Naked

Charly had always been a bit wild and reckless; she had a penchant for adventure, a trait that often led her down paths others would shy away from. Her impulsive nature thrived on the thrill of the unknown, propelling her to challenge herself with daring feats. Today, she had chosen a rather unusual destination for her curiosity: a meat processing plant. The mere thought intrigued her, stirring a mixture of excitement and apprehension within her. ...

Part One: The Preparation The factory was silent at 2 a.m. Allie stood on the metal grating, the hum of idle machinery the only sound. Above her, the dipping vat loomed, a stainless steel behemoth still warm from the day’s last batch. The air smelled of cocoa butter and industrial cleaner. The sign above the loading dock read Enrobé: Custom Confectionery. Nothing more. The building was unmarked brick, easy to miss, but the windows glowed warm yellow. Inside, stainless steel counters gleamed next to whimsical displays: a life-sized chocolate carousel horse, a sugar glass chandelier, racks of novelty molds shaped like dinosaurs and ballerinas. Photos lined the far wall, past commissions for weddings, art galleries, and one very elaborate birthday party. This was not a factory. It was an eccentric artist’s playground. ...

Chapter Two - Whipmaster Wu GrandMaster Karl Davidson was going to be Master of Ceremonies tonight. That wasn’t required by his position, but the reality is that powerful Masters and Mistresses often have delicate egos and would see great treachery in minor verbal faux pas. Thus someone with the diplomatic skills of the GrandMaster needed to make all of the introductions, explanations, and of course, the declaration of the winners. That was going to be even more important tonight since one of the four Whipmasters competing was actually a Whipmistress. ...

Becky’s Repairs, Part 6 Blinding light streamed into the window through the gauzy fabric. A pair of nesting jackdaws just outside annoyingly announced the sun had indeed come up. Becky blearily rubbed her eyes, rudely bumping the handcuffs against her cheek, making her flinch. She groaned and took a quick peek at her phone before fumbling around the nightstand to find the key, rubbing her wrists on the way to the bathroom. “Maybe they chickened out. Maybe one of them had second thoughts,” she thought as she brushed her teeth. Becky halted wide eyed, staring at her reflection. “Maybe they got caught! Maybe… Maybe something went wrong! No. No, Justin would have called… probably…” The notions gnawed at her despite her dismissals. Dressed in slacks and a sweater, Becky headed down to the lobby for coffee and a croissant. The landlady briskly handed her some cream, her husband nowhere to be seen. Becky sat in a corner, pretending to peruse the local paper and nibble the pastry while her curiosity slowly grew. Finally, she huffed and headed back to her room. ...

Chapter One - The Lady Emerges It was a very nice autumn evening and I was sitting on the back deck of my lake house sipping bourbon when the alarm on my phone sounded. That was immediately followed by a loud klaxon and an even louder speaker yelling out, “Intruder in the compound. Intruder in the compound.” I dove flat on the deck and grabbed the Glock that I keep in a waterproof holster attached under one of the benches next to the wall of the house. I punched a number into my phone and said, “Report!” ...

Being a superhero could be a tiring and draining job, physically and mentally. And right now, as she glided down towards the bank where a robbery was happening, it was the latter strain vexing Samantha, better known to the world as Crimson Nova. With her super hearing she could clock the distant approaching sirens of the local police. She’d beaten them here, which was par for the course. It helped she was already responding to an escaped convict, who seemingly had not only broken out of custody not twenty minutes ago, but was now in the process of attempting to rob the bank below. Even now, she could also hear the muffled voice in the bank reminding the civilians inside to hush. It was an all too familiar slightly nasally voice, Sadistica’s. ...

Chapter Six - Maximus Alpha Fourteen I was still chuckling at Spacer Bob’s continual mentions of him always having enough time when the shimmering and spinning stopped and we were at Maximus Alpha Fourteen. I am not often at a loss for words, but I sat there with my mouth open slowly saying, “What … the … hell?” I had never heard of Maximus Alpha Fourteen. I had never heard of any of the Maximus planets. I really didn’t know what to expect. But if I had a thousand guesses, I would never have guessed nearly a hundred, eighteen-meter-tall humanoids with almost perfectly formed bodies standing in a big circle. At least their arms, legs, necks and faces looked perfect. Our seats barely fit around the outside of the circle. They were all wearing a uniform shade of light brown with varying shades of dark brown hair. Their faces were basically oval shaped and their big brown eyes were round. ...

Chapter Five - Atlantis Alpha One As soon as the spinning and distortion stopped, Spacer Bob stood to address the crowd. “As you may be able to see,” he said, “we are not on the planet of the giants.” He paused to gesture out at a large octagonal ring that, except for its size and shape, resembled many of the fighting rings I have seen throughout the galaxy. The arena surrounding the ring was rather simple with a large area open to the sun and several rows of comfortable looking seats stretching up under wooden roofs that protected the crowd from the intense sun. There were only a few hundred spectators in the stands, all of whom were semi-concealed in the darkness created by the cantilevered roofs. Strangely, there was a large empty area above the seats which allowed Spacer Bob’s craft to adjust itself slightly and fit in exactly behind the seated crowd. ...

Sleep evades me. Like the night before Christmas when you were a child, hoping that Father Christmas had come and bought you just what you wanted. Except it wasn’t quite like that. This was no toy train set that I wanted, this had been a fantasy, a desire, a longing, for many years that I can remember. This time it was different. The research had been done. A quiet place in the sand dunes on the East Coast, where there weren’t too many visitors, hardly any. But still with the added frisson that we might be discovered. I also had Mistress there to keep me safe. We had been through all the consent and agreed what to do. As this was the first time out of what I hoped would be many, I didn’t want to take it too far. ...

Part Six - The Hunt Ball It had been a couple of weeks since the incident at Sam & Nic’s warehouse, where I had nearly ended up being sold, to be cooked and eaten at a festival by the crowds. It had only been Nic’s keen eye that she had spotted me hanging there in the storeroom and saved me from my ultimate fate. I was pissed off with Ollie leaving me like that after promising a weekend away where we could reconnect after my recent workload. ...

6 Valerie’s Homecoming Surprise Valerie’s key turned in the penthouse lock just after dusk, the city’s glow bleeding in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Mid-semester break had come early (professors on strike, dorms half-empty), and she’d taken the red-eye, every mile of the flight aching with the need to feel Jessie’s skin under her palms again, to taste the surrender she’d only been able to imagine through late-night texts and breathless phone calls. ...

Introduction Isla Del Sur, the Island Of The South, does not appear on any published maps. Satellite photographs show only an empty stretch of the Indian Ocean, assuming one knew where to look. There are no nearby sea lanes, and it is far from the air routes between Africa and Australia. There are a few historical references to the archipelago, though if those documents surface, they quickly disappear. Discovered in the 16th century by a Portuguese merchantman when it drifted off course enroute to Japan, the location was considered a state secret and locked away in the Portuguese royal archives, where it was soon lost. It was unexplored and uninhabited until the late 19th century, when a British utopian society purchased the location from an archivist in Lisbon. As with all such endeavors the great experiment soon failed and Isla Del Sur was once again banished to obscurity. ...

Chapter Three - Terra Eleven Zeta Everything again began shimmering and it felt like I was slowly rotating. Had I been alone, I would have reverted to my Ophugalian form to better track where I was. The Ophugalia evolved from migratory birds and our ears give us a great sense of movement and direction. I was now, for better or worse, shifted into the form of a Nine Gammite who was sitting docilely in the crowd watching Spacer Bob’s exotic holographic tour. Even without my Ophugalian ears, however, I was fairly sure that we were, in fact, moving. I didn’t know how, or what technology was involved, but I was absolutely certain that we had somehow moved from Terra Nine Gamma to Centauri Alpha Six and that we were now on our way to Terra Eleven Zeta. ...

Chapter 30 I took in the beauty of the countryside, we took a slow walk in order to fully absorb the area. Countless trees whistled as they moved back and forth, the leaves of their branches scratching as they clashed against each other. The luscious green grass covered the landscape, only broken up from the occasional collection of flowers, blues, whites, yellows and reds, each collection taking the attention of my sister and I, expanding the morning walk for a longer period. ...

5 1- Simmering Appetites Weeks blurred into a hazy rhythm after the Apex Grand’s near-catastrophe, Valerie’s dorm-room walls now plastered with photos of that last weekend—tangled limbs and tear-streaked grins frozen in time, a collage of bruises blooming like forbidden roses. College had swallowed her whole: lectures on postcolonial theory clashing in her mind with phantom pings of latex directives, her fingers tracing faint welts under flannel sheets during late-night calls with Jessie, the static crackle of the call a poor substitute for the polymer’s vice. ...

Chapter Two - Spacer Bob’s When I returned to Spacer Bob’s Fantasy Tours a little before midnight, there was a short line waiting to get in and more people standing around. The barker was talking softly to them. His microphone and speakers were turned off. “If you want to see the exotic wonders of the galaxy,” he was saying using his hands as if unrolling a large banner, “this is the show for you. If you take this tour, I guarantee that you will see things that you only imagined existed. And if you have already taken any of our regular tours you know that it is always as if you are actually there. This is your chance to experience what you previously only dreamed of in the privacy of your lonely rooms.” ...

Chapter 29 My eyes slowly opened, allowing my bedroom to come into view. The soft, morning light from the window was just bright enough to illuminate the area, lighting the bed and walls just enough despite the darkness of the outside world. My hand travelled around me, gliding across the soft mattress and open blanket and revealed that I was alone in the room. There was no one else sharing my bed. ...

Part 8: Second Thoughts The staff at the walk-in clinic didn’t seem any more credulous than the cop regarding the cause of Dan’s injuries. But they dutifully stitched the gash on his chin and straightened his nose. They gave him a script for pain killers and sent him on his way. By Monday morning Dan’s eyes were swollen to slits. His face had purpled around his nose and eyes. He called in sick to work, took a pain pill and washed it down with a beer. ...

Lillian found herself lying atop a round table, completely naked with her legs spread as far as she could make them go. She was vaguely aware that this was wrong. She shouldn’t be doing this–had never done anything this brazen, just…dirty. But she also knew she had to stay right where she was. She didn’t know why and found it impossible to even think about why. The man had told her to lay here, so she did. Looking around Lillian could see that other women apparently had the same thought. Two that she could see without altering her position (which she must not do without being told to!) were in chairs watching her and a woman on the next table: human centerpieces. ...

The weekend was approaching, and things at the Hargrove household were happening, the air hummed with anticipation of what could be their last chance to enjoy their shared fantasies, with Valerie due to leave for college soon. The air felt thicker now, laced with the faint, lingering scent of last week’s indulgences—the pantry still smelled of herbs and sweat and the sharp tang of arousal and surrender. “Mother, could I become a maidbot for the weekend again? I really enjoyed my time under the house systems control.” Valerie asked, “It helps me relax.” ...

Less than an hour after the homing beacon signal was first detected by moon base Gamma-Four, the news media began proclaiming, “Mystery Solved - Emergency Log Capsule Received from Deep Interstellar Probe One.” The mystery began a year and a half ago when a superburst transmission was received from Interstellar One. Because superburst transmissions use extreme amounts of power to transmit at greater-than-light speeds the transmissions are limited to two special three or four letter code words. Numbers were initially used, but possible distortion required redundancy so a list of words was developed for all possible contingencies that might occur in deep space. ...

1. Set-up “Stand over here for me, legs apart…” I lined up my feet with the cuffs. “How does that stance feel? Is it awkward, uncomfortable?” “Maybe a little wide…?” I said. She repositioned the chains, moving the cuffs closer together. “Yeah, that’s better,” I said. “Good, good. Hands above your head…? Yeah, that looks okay.” I nodded. “Alright, pretty self-explanatory: ankles go in those ones, hands in the handcuffs, blindfold over your eyes, ballgag in your mouth. Obviously, do those last two before the handcuffs.” ...

Finally, it was Saturday. I haven’t done a self-bondage session in months! But today was the day, I wouldn’t be called to work overtime and I didn’t have to attend some hangout or other. An entire day, all to myself! For some context, I rent a small apartment, which unfortunately sucks up a majority of my paycheck. I do not have the dough to indulge in much bondage equipment, but I did save up enough (money and courage) to buy a bog-standard red ball-gag, a thin collar and a venus butterfly a while back. ...

The Maidbot’s Duty The steam from the oversized bathtub curled lazily into the air, carrying the faint scent of lavender soap and chamomile—Mrs. Hargrove’s attempt at restoring some semblance of normalcy to the chaos that had unfolded in her kitchen. Valerie and Jessie sat submerged up to their shoulders in the warm water, the foam bubbles gently caressing their skin, as they exchanged tentative glances across the sudsy divide, the weight of their shared secrets dissolving into the steam like whispers carried away by the rising mist, leaving only the soft rhythm of their breaths to bridge the silence between confession and absolution. ...

Part 2 – A Longer Stay Even after hours like this, it was still so strange to Catherine to have her eyes wide open, but to see absolutely nothing. The darkness made time twist. She knew she had been here for quite a while, but there was no way for her to actually know how long it had been since Lia left, since she was left to live out her fantasy of being a prisoner suffering in a dungeon. The hours had been both the best and worst that Catherine thought she had ever endured in her 31 years among the living. ...

Chapter 1 – Danielle, Sarah’s Mom Sarah’s mom Danielle considered herself bi with a heavy leaning toward lesbianism. Danielle was a woman standing 5’8” with a very shapely C cup pair of firm tits with nipples that stood up a bit pointy. She kept her pussy bald because her lovers hated fur in their mouth when they ate her, and she wanted to be considerate. Henry stood 6’ with only an average cock, but because of their love they said that size didn’t matter. They were open minded sexually and neither were possessive. ...

Valerie had asked Jessie to come over while her parents were away and to spend some time hanging out. She suggested that they could spend time by the pool and listen to some music, chat and have fun. Jessie had been friends with Valerie since high school, and both had recently graduated and were onto the next stage of their lives. Valerie would be going to college, while Jessie was hoping to find a better job than waitressing, like her mother. ...

Part 4 Jackie and Tom’s shared passion for their intimate displays had grown steadily, each new creation pushing the boundaries of their trust and creativity. During a recent weekend getaway, they had visited a historic castle, its ancient stone walls steeped in stories of bygone eras. The highlight for both was the dungeon—a dimly lit chamber filled with relics of restraint, from rusted shackles to intricate iron devices. Jackie’s eyes sparkled with fascination as she explored, her fingers tracing the cold metal of chains and cages. Tom noticed her lingering gaze, particularly on a metal gibbet cage suspended from the ceiling, its human-shaped frame both foreboding and captivating. She seemed lost in thought, her breath catching as she imagined herself confined within it. ...

Part 21 Chapter 95: Last Night in Thoth Back in the studio, Ellie let the illusion fall and Honey shimmered back into view. She was cuffed again and he stood looking at her. ‘Ezio,’ Ellie said after a moment’s silence. ‘Do you…’ For a moment she was not a Seductress but Ellie Trapp, college student. ‘Do you want to see me again? Outside, I mean…’ She cringed inwardly. ‘You are a girl, right?’ He was joking but the comment jarred her. ...

Chapter Eight - Purchasing a New Slave Cycle 4378, Day 297 Master has been gone now for two months. Despite the many advances in thrust engines, it still takes a space liner that long to get to the Home Planet system. Master will be gone for at least another two months, and that is if his business on Home Planet is only a day or two. My body burns for him. If it were not for lucida relieving my fires each night I think that I would burn up like the straw figures on the fires at the Day of Remembrance ceremonies. ...

Chapter Seven - Another Night With Master Cycle 4378, Day 237 I can hear far away voices. Someone is calling me. “My little shishi,” the voice says. “It is time to wake up. I try, but my body doesn’t want to obey my mind. It is as if I am asleep and awake at the same time. “Give her more of the stimulant,” the voice says. I feel a sting in my arm and then a warm feeling that starts to wash over my body. My eyes flutter open to see Master and Madame Loretta standing over me. Both look very concerned. ...

Part 19 Chapter 85: Truths ‘Honey?’ Amanda could see her daughter and Maiko in the corridor ahead and she tried to work out what they were doing. They both seemed to be leaning against one of the tunnel walls holding hands. They’d both been behaving strangely since nearing the tower, appearing scared to cross the ditch then using Maiko’s grappling arrow and a rope rather than walking across the bridge. She’d watched as the pair had rolled together in the grass then Ellie had ripped off Maiko’s clothes. ...

Part 18 Chapter 80: The Call Amazonne knew she was being summoned and it was a summons she could not resist. Even in Fantasia, moving in bondage required considerable effort and she was panting hard when she finally thought she was far enough away to work herself free without disturbing the rest of the party. It took her nearly an hour more to escape, and she soon realised that tugging on the rope, rotating her wrists to seek out the knots was more effective and safer than trying to saw through the cords by rubbing them against her sword. Eventually she managed to free her left wrist and then untie the rope around her right one. Her elbows were still pinned together and the ropes that bound her ankles were tied to her elbow bonds but with her hands free she was able to use her sword to cut through the cords holding her in the hogtie and then, finally, able to extend her ankles, she sat up and, wedging the sword against a rock, managed to free her arms. This left the rope harness with its knotted crotch rope and intricate bindings designed to constrain and tease her breasts. She was about to cut it away when she saw someone move in the camp and crouched down behind the rock to conceal herself. ...

Chapter Four - Preparing For My Master Cycle 4378, Day 183 This morning lucida asked me something I had never really thought of. I had to look it up on the planetary knowledge source to answer her. She asked, “What is a month?” I had never thought of that. A month on Farpost is four weeks or twenty-eight days. There are seventeen months in Farpost’s solar cycle making a total of 476 days. Days are often noted as 78/01/16, meaning the sixteenth day of the first month of cycle 4378. But I had never thought of what a month was or why it has 28 days. ...

I’d been given the idea by one of my girlfriends; she had hired one of the new pleasurebots for her and her husband to enjoy one weekend; she told me that it had been one of the most enjoyable times in her life, the whole weekend was a delight and that she would be doing it again herself very soon, and she quickly recommended that I do this for my husband on our upcoming anniversary. ...

Part 7 – The Reset It had been a break to be away from Nick’s store, he had kept me as just another one of his sexbots for just over three weeks, at my request I might add, but all things come to an end and Nick felt that I needed a breather from being E-001, and I still had my robotic postgraduate studies to complete. Nick had said that I needed to finish my studies and to ground myself back into the reality of life as Emma and not as E-001. As much as I would have like to just continue as another sexbot in his shop, I could see the reasoning behind his statement, even if I didn’t agree at the time. ...

Looking for Lewd (in all the right places) Officer Escobedo opened the door of the adult movie theatre and stepped from the hundred-degree heat into blessed air conditioning. There had been a series of confused calls to the station house about lewd behavior, and Carlos had drawn the assignment. He looked around the lobby, which was empty save for the plump older brunette at the ticket and snack counter who was talking on a cell phone. He walked over and flashed his badge, explaining that he needed to go inside to check out some complaints. The woman shrugged and waved him toward the curtained entrance, still busy with her phone call. ...

Prologue - _The Part Nobody Reads*_642, The Mind Diary of a Judicial Slave* is the story of Xandar Deurue, who was once a lowly accountant with the United Space Mines office on an ore planet called Farpost. Then she was convicted of embezzling ten times her yearly salary from her employer and sentenced to judicial servitude for a period of two years, less time served. When she arrives at her new Master’s house, she begins a new mind diary to record the 642 days left on her sentence. With her age and beauty and sexual attractiveness– and the fact that her mind had not been closed to sexual enjoyment by the teachings of the angry ones– it is no surprise that Master Karl Burcroft has purchased her as his personal sex companion. What is a surprise is the fact that she is totally innocent, and that while the mysterious Madame Loretta is busy training her to be the perfect sex companion, others are busy trying to get her totally sexually degraded and buried away in the mines of Farpost. The Mind Diary begins with the night that slave shishi loses her virginity to her new Master. It follows her through a second wrongful conviction which puts her in with the deviants and degenerates in the dark cells of Farpost’s prison and then through an abduction and third wrongful conviction that sends her to the depths of the mines as a shaft cart slave. She manages to survive it all because she knows she is innocent; she knows that she loves her new Master; and most importantly, she knows that her new Master loves her and will ultimately rescue her. ...

3: Securing Ava Ava quietly opened the door to Cassandra’s bedroom to deliver coffee, just as she did every morning. Usually the maidbot found her mistress still in bed, but on this day she was up early. Thus it was that she was wearing panties and nothing else when Ava entered. A few weeks ago, she would have been terribly embarrassed about her maidbot, which was really her son Spencer, witnessing her in this state. ...

2 – Picking Up the Pace Heart pounding, breath ragged, legs fading, music blaring. Zoey could tell she had pushed herself too much. Her body was screaming at her to give up, to give out. It had been an eternity since she had last felt this way. Can’t stop, she told herself. She keyed the metal music in her ear up again, a beep indicating it wouldn’t go any louder. Frankly, it was probably already blowing out her eardrum anyways, but she needed something to push her the last quarter mile. Something to carry her to the familiar place on the trail that always caused her anxiety. Usually, it was that faint fear of something bad happening to her, a predator, human or animal, springing from the dense underbrush. Today though, the spot carried a different weight. A mocking, self-doubting voice prodded Zoey’s conscious mind laughing at her foolishness. It told her she had let her kinky thoughts get the better of her, and some poor woman named Tara was paying the price. This had been such a bad idea. It was too unsafe, and with her years of disciplined self-bondage, she should have known better, but the situation had been too tempting. ...

Shepard sighed, letting the hot water wash over her shoulders. That last mission had been stressful. Too many close calls, too many risks. The war with the reapers was going poorly already, and dealing with the constant harassment from Cerberus was only making it worse. If only she could get a moment to relax, a brief escape where the weight of the whole galaxy wasn’t resting on her shoulders, where she could just be a person. Sadly, the closest she got was these post-mission showers, alone in her cabin. In the steam, she could pretend the outside world didn’t exist. ...

1. Into the rabbit hole “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” said Sophie to her friend as the taxi closed in on their destination. “If you get past the initial impression, it’s actually pretty cozy, and the food is fantastic,” Tina answered, looking lazily through the cab window at the evening strollers thinning out as the neighbourhoods were getting worse. “The food. " “Yeah, kinda like pork, but more delicate. Healthier, too, or so they say.” ...

Part 7: The Consequences of the Game In an instant, the idyllic meadow vanished, dragging with it the soft grass and warm sun, not like a scene change, but as if reality itself were crumbling. The puppy suit, a second skin of nanolatex that had adhered to every curve of her body, didn’t disintegrate into a bright light, but dissolved with a cold sigh, a chilling sensation that spread from her hardened nipples to the base of her spine. Lindsey was left standing, naked and vulnerable in an absolute void, where the air smelled of ozone and the promise of a calculated pain. The silence of the holodeck was heavier than any sound, a silence that vibrated with a sinister anticipation. ...

The world has shrunk into a single, throbbing point of focus. Every fragment of my existence drawn to the molten core of my desire. My nerves hum, taut and trembling, every thought consumed by the exquisite heat pulsing between my thighs. That cursed point. My body hangs suspended, face-down, an unfamiliar, disorienting angle - hips elevated, thighs spread wide. I’m frozen in time and space, open, exposed, offered to the quiet, hungry void. ...

Chapter 27 “Oh, no! Oh, no!” I kept saying the same two words over and over as I finally gained the courage to leave the dressing room behind me. I closed my eyes and mentally counted in my head, when I reached the third number, that was when I pulled back the curtain separating me from the rest of the customers and ran towards the door. The second after I pulled the curtain back, my arms reached around my stomach, holding onto my sides with as much force as I could muster to hide the chastity belt away from the public eye. If even one person caught the steel material shining in the unnatural light, that could have been enough to get everyone’s attention. It was impossible to know how anyone would react to seeing the tight belt around my waist. Potentially, they have the power to ignore it, or put it down to their brain’s imagination. However, it was the other possibility that played over and over in my head. The potential that someone saw it who didn’t take too kindly with my kink being on display to the public. ...

Part Five The past few weeks had been very busy, so my chances of spending time with Ollie were slim. We seemed to pass each other in the short time between finishing work and going to bed, to be up and ready for the next day’s busy schedule. Even my meatgirl fantasies took a back seat; I was missing being tied up and stored away, my naked body on display, just another product waiting to be sold. I think even Ollie was missing having me bound and available for him to use, so too, I guess, was Matt down in the store, as I had to turn down his offer to be tightly trussed up by his firm hands, though it was tempting to give myself to him. ...

Part Four Having been away running the meatgirl processing facility while Marjorie took a break, running the shorter program for women to experience the way that meatgirls were kept, stored and run down through the production line, I had returned home to find that Ollie, my husband and owner of the meatgirl shop that we live over in the apartment upstairs, was still away at some convention that he’d been invited to, I think the fact that it was being held near to a golf course may have swayed his decision to extend his trip. ...

How We Found Our Mutual Burial Fetish What started out as a bit of harmless fun fooling around at the beach while on holiday, turned into a fetish that both myself and my husband began to explore and enjoy, and revealed some of our secret, hidden fantasies to each other, that I enjoyed being buried and that he got great delight from burying me. It fitted in with me being more submissive in nature and him more willing to take control, he was always the more dominant one in our relationship, which was fine with me, and I was happy with letting him take charge. ...

Part 13 Chapter 59: Slaves for Rent To the side of the square, Ellie spotted a man wearing the leathers of a drover. He was leading a blonde pony by rope halter. A little way down the street she could see the sign of a farrier, the owner of the premises sitting outside. Even from this distance, it was obvious that the pony was used for heavy work judging by her thick strong legs and the welts and scars across her back that suggests regular encouragement from the whip. She walked, Ellie noticed, with a slight limp. The man stopped in front of the farrier and there was a brief discussion before the drover dropped some coins into the other man’s hand then passed the blonde’s reins to him. Then he turned and left the pony behind, emerging back into the square and striding across to his cart where he picked up a heavy leather bridle. ...

“Hey Mom!” Oskar called out as he entered the house, “am I adopted?” Juliana had been dreading this day. She knew it would come, but she was hoping it would be after Oskar was a little older. He was a senior in high school, but still she hoped a few more years could pass before that question had to be answered . She had known for many years that the other children were teasing him for being… different. It wasn’t just the fact that he had dark hair while her hair was blond and his father, Seathrun, had red hair. No, there was another difference. That difference wasn’t really obvious at first glance and most adults didn’t notice. But the other children did… and children can be so cruel, even when they are almost fully men and women. ...

The crisp December air swirled with the scent of pine and smoldering sage, laced with something darker, more primal—a whisper of musk from the women’s skin, warmed by anticipation. Carrie led her coven through the shadowed back garden of their Brooklyn brownstone. It was Halloween, that velvet cusp between surrender and rebirth, and the four women had gathered as they always did: cloaked in velvet that clung to wondrous curves like a lover’s breath, their laughter a low, throaty hum that vibrated through the chill night. ...

Episode 8: Halloween Special Part 1 I am fleeing through the darkness, through a wood shrouded in fog, branches whipping at my body tearing at my skin through the thin shift I am wearing and catching my legs. I stumble on the uneven ground. The thump of heavy feet…paws…behind is relentless. I do not know what it is and briefly wonder if it can be as dark as my imagining, I do not know why it is hunting me, just that I do not want to be caught. ...

Episode 8: Halloween Special Part 1 I am fleeing through the darkness, through a wood shrouded in fog, branches whipping at my body tearing at my skin through the thin shift I am wearing and catching my legs. I stumble on the uneven ground. The thump of heavy feet…paws…behind is relentless. I do not know what it is and briefly wonder if it can be as dark as my imagining, I do not know why it is hunting me, just that I do not want to be caught. ...

The front of the invitation was black with big red lips angled across the front. In bright red letters that were supposed to look like dripping blood it said, “Let’s celebrate a 50th anniversary Rocky Halloween.” I had just started a new job in a relatively small, family-run business. There were only about a dozen or so employees in the office and another handful who were on the road or worked from home. I was unsure at first about fitting in because everyone, including my boss, Ralph, Jr, was younger than me. ...

Every room in the house is lit. There are lights outside shining on the house. Even the trees are wound with lights so there are no shadows. My grandmother is totally nuts about Halloween. And no, I don’t mean that she gets everything decorated and hands out candy to all the mini-extortionists who jubilantly cry out, “Trick or Treat!” She leaves that to me, standing with a small table at the end of the walkway so the little beggars– I so wanted to misspell that– so the little beggars won’t walk onto the property and accidentally cast a shadow. ...

Part 4: Beth One day I had a phone call from Beth, my real estate friend who had loaned us the use of the farm that weekend, she intrigued me with the promise of a wonderful surprise that she knew that I would love, and she also said that she had the final edited version of all the videos that she had taken when I was bound and kept a captive at the farm. We arranged to meet later that day. After arriving at her apartment and the usual greetings, kisses and hugs were exchanged between the two of us, I wanted to ask what the surprise was, but Beth anticipated this by telling me that all good things must wait, and only after watching the video would she reveal what she had in store for me. ...

Part 2 Chapter 5 I struggled to concentrate in all my lectures the next morning. Something had shifted inside me. Fear was in the background all the time, but I had woken to Luba’s soft golden eyes. And since then I had not been able to shift them. Weirdly I ran into her boyfriend, Piotr, who was studying in a different department, coming down the corridor. As he walked past, I did not know whether to laugh or cry at the thought of him fucking her up the arse. I caught myself with this new language in my brain, but then my heart went wild as I remembered Luba’s tears when Ludmilla had checked whether she had broken up with him. Did she love him? Was that jealousy? ...

Part 12 Chapter 55: The Slave Caravan The caravan broke camp long before dawn, the stars shining like diamonds, the constellations of the Slave Girl and the Sex Toy shining above them in the blackness of the sky, the air chill on the bare flesh of the chained slave girls. The Slavers riding camels and the slaves walking beside them, lines of ten or twelve girls chained together by their collars, new slaves separated from those who had been trained and the personal slaves walking on leashes beside their masters or mistresses. ...

Take It to the Limit* She sat on the couch, provocatively crossing her long legs below her short skirt. I am old-fashioned in some ways so I didn’t approve, though being a slave to male instinct I kept my eyes on her anyway. She’d come to me with another one of her wild ideas. This one was, potentially, far more dangerous than the escapade of being half buried in the ground with the concrete slabs. ...

Warden was uneasy. It wasn’t about the execution itself—god knows he oversaw too many of them, and as inhuman as it sounded, he was no longer bothered. It wasn’t about the secrecy either—the situation was what it was, and you either went along with it, or ended up on the other side of that big window. Still, something felt more wrong than usual. Part of it must have been the man who joined him on this occasion - or rather, the person who sent him. The little, restrained, perpetually smiling man sat straight, holding his briefcase filled with strange tools in his lap and sharing his attention between the monitoring screens and the preparations happening on the other side, calm and unflinching, like a lizard. ...

Taking Root* “Yeah, I’ve seen those old gangster movies, the ‘Chicago Overcoat’ and going for a swim in the lake. What you have in mind isn’t so extreme, and certainly won’t require you to hold your breath for days on end, but it does carry some risks.” I pondered the details of implementing her request. Her simplistic idea, based entirely on bad movies, was impractical at so many levels that I discarded it immediately. Pouring a massive chunk of concrete would require weeks to cure, and breaking it open afterward meant a jackhammer. ...

A Phone Call* “Thanks for the heads up, Gary,” the Director spoke into the phone. “It won’t alter anything but being informed Psycho Sally was behind her transfer is good to know. I’m aware of Sally’s reputation and what she does for a living. We don’t have any business dealings with her, since she would never agree to the conditions we impose on our female visitors. Anyway, my advice is to tread carefully. You’ve seen for yourself she isn’t someone you’d ever want to cross.” ...

Carl’s heart thumped while he waited. There was nothing unusual about that. It always beat hard when he waited for her to visit. The phone could ring. His wife could come home. Any number of things could disrupt the carefully planned rendezvous. He checked himself in the mirror for about the twentieth time in an hour. Everything looked right, but it would not do to forget one of Mistress’s orders. ...

Part 11 Chapter 50: Reckoning ‘So, what happens now?’ the Merchant said. She was still staring at Battle Babe. Amanda glanced around, the others were all busy searching bodies and cleaning weapons. She thought she should probably go and release Ellie but she was curious about the Merchant. There was clearly something going on here that she didn’t understand, an old score being settled perhaps. There were, she gathered, some unwritten rules around Party loyalty but this felt wrong and she didn’t want to be a part of it. There was something else too, something more than her own conscience as if the game was telling her this was wrong too. Even the tingle of Experience she’d felt from hitting the man in the leg had felt different somehow. ...

Lyra bit playfully at her bottom lip. She couldn’t help it, the exquisite sight beneath her was transfixing. The elf’s lavender eyes, half closed in pleasure, soaked in the visage of the tightly bound and completely nude knight beneath her chair. The redhaired woman, despite her athletic frame, could barely move in her bonds. Ropes lashed the human knight’s ankles and knees together. Though she couldn’t see it, Lyra knew another three coils of rope held the knight’s arms tightly restrained behind her back. One coil about her wrists. Another cinched just above the woman’s elbows, pulling them close until they painfully touched. The third wrapped around the nude knight’s upper arms and connected to the ropes that the mage had fashioned into a chest harness for her “victim” tonight. The ropes pulling tight around the base of the woman’s breasts causing them to bulge outward. ...

Part 9 Chapter 41: In My Lady’s Chamber Ellie followed Cordelia up the stairs as if her body was not her own, as if someone was controlling her movements and she wondered again if it might feel like this to be the target of her own Seduction. At the top of the stairs was a long hallway with wooden panelling and a deep red carpet that was worn thin in places; between the doors that lead to the upper rooms were various items on display, many in glass cases; some, she thought, looked magical: amulets and torcs; others mundane: a stuffed animal, a vase; some sections of wall were lined with portraits, all pale individuals with red lips and dark hair and gold eyes that seemed to follow her as if regarding her with suspicion, as if picking her out as an intruder. ...

VOLUME 1: TOMSK Chapter 1 It was so cold after the heat of the class. The cold that freezes your breath, stifles your nostrils and turns the world black and white. The sort of cold you never wait around in for long, unless instructed to. I had been told to wait. “The corner of Nikitina and Kyevskaya after your lecture,” the note said. I was not just cold but scared, standing there in the November dark, not knowing what to expect, but knowing enough that I could not ignore the instruction. I could feel all the suppleness in my body drain away as the ice worked its way under my coat and into my boots, just as a black Volga pulled up belching smoke and steam, its tyre chains grinding on the ice covered road, breaking the cocoon of silent struggle that real cold creates one. ...

Part 3 “You want to play what?” I gasped. It was Alison’s turn to choose a game and… “I thought you would want to play hungry hippos or something.” Wide eyed I met Claire’s gaze and she looked equally stunned, while Hanna just seemed bemused. Alison glared around at us. “It’s my month and it’s my turn! You going to play with me or what?” she demanded. Another Wednesday had come around and it was time for the girls to get together again. The rules of the night were simple, each month one of us got to pick a game and would play the first match of each evening. The loser of that first match would spend the night tied up… and erm “played” with. ...

Part 5: One of These Things is not Like the Other Alice watched as Dan disappeared out the front door, toting her suitcase full of toys behind him. She rubbed her fingers over lips that still tingled from his parting kiss. “Well, shoot,” she grumbled in disappointment. The day had its ups and downs (she never wanted to be that cold again.) But the session on the table had been a total mind fuck. She just had hoped for a bit of a “happy ending.” ...

Kayleigh Dougherty had reached the lowest point in her life! Her five-year old marriage was well and truly over, and only yesterday she was among six employees let go by her company! As she sat in one of the many eating places located in the open air market, she thought to herself, “I’m not going to go gently into the pit of despair, I’m going to pull myself together and make a new start!” ...

Part 3 “This is definitely my least favorite part of the job,” Cherri said with a grimace as she picked up the bucket, the weight of our collective waste making her grunt. The smell was nauseating, a foul odor that clung to the air as she opened the van’s door, the sun’s harsh light spilling in. From what I’d seen when Cherri had stood me up to do my business, we were in the middle of a vast desert, the kind you’d only ever see in post-apocalyptic movies. The sun was a blistering orb in the sky, casting a relentless heat that made the metal van feel like an oven now that she had shut off the van. ...

Part 1 “…There will be a high risk of snow and ice throughout the entire UK this weekend. We have a yellow weather warning throughout England, Scotland and some parts of Wales, so make sure you stay up to date with the forecast for any changes. From Saturday into Sunday, we are expecting more snow as well as a high probability of heavy rain, so make sure to wrap up warm when you go out, stay in if you can. Back to Matt in the studio.” ...

Part 6 Chapter 27: Reckoning Ellie swung her hips as she crossed the square heading back to the Saucy Adventuress. She was still on a high from her successes and meeting with Goldie and a little tipsy from the cocktail. She was conscious of the eyes that followed her, furtive looks from shadows and overt ogling from adventurers who passed her and it excited her. She was sure a dark haired, buxom Jewell, a slave lead past on a leash had winked at her seductively. Maybe, she thought, Caliban would be in the bar, and maybe she could hook up with him. She was sure she could seduce him now. Fuck she could probably seduce Felix now. ...

The Fall Izzy ran excitedly along the dusty forest path and waved to her father again before she was out of sight behind the trees. She had been eagerly awaiting the first day of school holidays for weeks, and at last it was here; the weather was wonderful, and the next few days were already well planned. She ran on dreamily and only a loud scream brought her out of her daydreams. “Watch out, girl!” shouted the coachman, a goblin, and pulled hard on the reins of his two horses, which were pushing against the heavy cart with all their might and, to Izzy’s shock, only stopped just in front of her. “Oh, it’s you, Isabel. Please be more careful. Let me have a look at you. You’ve grown up; Calling you a girl doesn’t really fit any more.” Izzy grinned. “It’s fine. It was my birthday last month. They say I’m an adult now, but when do you start feeling like one? If my father didn’t demand that I finish the school year, I’d probably have to look for work.” The horses looked angrily into her eyes. That wasn’t difficult either, they were about the same size, and only a little older. Without the ponygirl harness, you could have mistaken them for friends. The two young women wore a tight bridle around their heads and a horse’s bit in their mouths, which was connected to the driver’s reins. Their bodies were tightly attached to the bars of the cart so that they could pull it, while their arms were tied behind their bodies like it was common with ponygirls. The left horse stamped furiously with its sturdy hoof boots; the hooves made a metallic sound. Izzy looked down at the horse, her gaze following the leather straps that barely covered her privacy, and saw in disgust the brand on its buttock, which fit well with the registration number tattooed on her breast. All in all, it was a familiar sight in this part of the world, but Izzy shivered every time she saw a ponygirl. These poor girls, she thought, and took a step back. It must be terrible to be tied up like this all day. Izzy loved to run freely across the fields and go wherever she wanted. How could you lead a life in which someone controls you every second of the day? But it was difficult to avoid the ponygirls, as they were the only large transport animals in this part of the world. Arkynia, the huge but very long island on which she lived, was split like a cake into two equal parts: the empires of the humans in the west, and the realms of the goblins – to which the driver of these poor girls belonged – in the east. Her village was right on the border, it was divided between the two worlds, so there were numerous ponygirls here because of the goblins. This was no coincidence, as most animals did not tolerate the proximity of the goblins. No horse came closer than 10 meters, and none entered a place where they had stayed longer. Therefore, the people in the village had no horses, cows, dogs or other animals, too — but at least also no ponygirls, so they had no choice but to rely on the goblins for any form of delivery and longer journeys. “Now don’t stand around like that, the goods must be delivered. Don’t you have school today?” the driver asked. Izzy shook her head. “It’s school holidays after all!” “Oh yes … Good, then enjoy the nice weather. But you’d better be more careful in the future.” She looked after him for a moment: the goblins weren’t bad, but most people still didn’t like them, but as is so often the case, people were afraid of everything that was different. The usual goblin was barely three feet tall, had rough green skin, long fingers with short claws, and sharp teeth. Their eyes were large and black, the ears stood up, and long hair grew at the ends, which were almost the only hairs on their entire bodies. But they weren’t monsters, they didn’t smell bad, and most of them even took care of their claws so that they weren’t dirty or dangerous. And a goblin also knew how to behave, after all, they also went to their own school, which Izzy only knew from descriptions so far. That was also the reason Izzy had been excited for this day so much. Not only was she on school holidays, so was her best friend, Grall – a goblin! — had his first day of school holidays today and was probably already waiting for her. She ran on and reached a small clearing that was their secret hiding place. It was one of the few paths she really knew well and where she had never got lost, as it often happened to her. Grall sat on a stone and carved a branch with a blunt blade. “You’re late, Buttercup,” he murmured and continued to concentrate on his work, but Izzy noticed the big grin on his face as well. “Don’t call me that, I don’t like it!” she snapped. Even though they were best friends, she didn’t like it when he called her by a ponygirl name. It was one of those stupid little goblin jokes that she hadn’t gotten used to even after years. “You’d better be careful, or you’ll almost cut off a finger again. Besides, I’m not late, you’re way too early!” “The knife is too blunt for that.” He grunted and threw the almost untouched branch back into the forest. “My father wanted me to clean a few stables, so I ran away. Are you ready for our excursion? I have already planned the path exactly. One of the stable boys gave me a good tip. The ruins are only two hours away to the west, we can easily do that today.” “With your short legs, we can be happy if we make it out of the village by noon.” Grall stuck his tongue out at her — he was a few days older than her, but still often behaved terribly childishly — and collected his things. They ran from the clearing and used the wide dirt road for the first few kilometres. The birds chirped high in the trees, and the warm summer sun broke through the dense canopy of leaves again and again, warming their bodies and the forest. It was a wonderful day, at least until they ran into an unpleasant sight behind the next intersection. Grunhilda and her friends were on the way; the girl grinned with her terribly crooked teeth when she saw the two friends. Izzy had never understood why such a mean girl was more popular than she was. Was it just because she was so much bigger? Or was it because of her broad shoulders and strong legs? “Look, Grall is walking his ponygirl,” Grunhilda sneered, and Izzy rolled her eyes. It was the old story when someone saw her with Grall. In this world, friendship between goblins and humans was rare, apart from herself and Grall, she could only think of her father and Oozol – Grall’s father. “Shouldn’t she be tethered for this according to Goblin law?” “Shut up, you stupid cow!” Izzy shouted angrily. Grunhilda knew pretty well how to make Izzy mad. Her fuse was short when it came to this ghastly girl. “Otherwise, I’ll kick you!” “You certainly can. All horses can do that well. But your owner won’t like that.” Grunhilda grinned even wider as Grall pulled Izzy aside. “Don’t get angry!” he warned her and held her hand tightly. “We’re not going to bother with this garbage today, okay?” Izzy nodded, and they bypassed the group, but the girls still shouted mean things after her. “How do you actually ride bareback? Will he take you to the stable?” Izzy clenched her fists, but as always, Grall was the more level-headed of the two and just pulled them on. Of course, she followed rather than he could pull her – she was at least three times as strong as he was and could have thrown him through the woods with ease. But she allowed it anyway; otherwise the meeting would certainly not have ended so quickly and painlessly. She ran slowly after him, while his legs had to work overtime to make any progress at all. It looked almost funny how these short butts swept across the solid sand, and Izzy understood why the goblins liked to ride ponygirls so much — without the horses, the world would be far too big and hostile for such small creatures. Nevertheless, it was different with Grall, as she knew very well that he had never ridden a ponygirl. This was unusual for a goblin in general, but almost unthinkable in his case: not only had he grown rather unspectacularly even for a goblin – and didn’t even reach Izzy’s waist – he was also the son of the largest ponygirl breeder and dealer in the entire region. No one had more ponygirls in his stables than Oozol, there must have to be over 100 animals at least. That was also the reason Izzy avoided the farm – even though the old goblin was always very friendly to her. Grall’s unwillingness to ride a ponygirl had not only brought him the ridicule of many other goblins, but it was also often a heated topic of argument with his father. Although he liked and respected Izzy, a ponygirl was simply something wholly different to him. Grall, however, had made it clear time and again that he couldn’t be friends with Izzy and ride a ponygirl at the same time. The path led them to a popular swimming lake and Izzy looked through the branches. Her gaze followed the noise, and she saw something that made her heart beat faster: Dressed only in swimming trunks, Bastian ran through the grass by the water, took a run-up and jumped into the clear water with an athletic dive that was so typical of him. She had a crush on him for a while, but unfortunately, it has not been reciprocated so far. Before Izzy could watch some more, Grall tugged at her dress. “You’ll have time for daydreams later, Izzy,” he snapped. “Or you can go and talk to him. But standing around and staring at him is stupid.” The way to the ruins was further than Grall had suspected, and so it was already afternoon when they broke through the undergrowth and an old castle ruin appeared among the trees. It was burned to the ground, but you could still see the shape of the castle. “The fights must have been terrible,” said Grall, running his claws over the stone. “It’s good that humans and goblins now live in peace. So many have died …” The remains of a bridle sparkled in the sun, and Izzy picked it up carefully. She looked at the leather remnants for a long time. “It must be terrible to be driven into a fight against your own species with a rider on your back.” Grall looked at her thoughtfully. “For a goblin, a ponygirl is not a person, but … well … a ponygirl.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But you’re right, I would rather not be forced into a fight either. That’s not right. Come on, let’s keep looking around.” The old ruins of the past fascinated the two more than the others in the village. Most humans and goblins were not interested in history, and war was a taboo subject. The peace was too precious to endanger it with the past. But it was precisely this forbidden nature that particularly appealed to Izzy and Grall. It was a forgotten time full of secrets, and yet the truth was often within reach. “There’s something else up there,” Grall said, and clumsily climbed a wall. This was unnecessary, Izzy was almost tall enough to just reach there, but Grall, as always, was too proud to ask her. “I almost have it, only … Ah!” One of the stones was loose and Grall fell unchecked. The soft forest floor caught him gently, but his right leg hit a branch. He moaned loudly and whimpered. “Did you break something?” Izzy asked anxiously. She helped him up, but his face was contorted in pain as he put weight on his leg. “Maybe. It hurts like hell. I can’t run like that. You have to go back to the village and get help.” “I won’t leave you behind. There could be wolves in this part of the forest. You know full well that they don’t fear goblins as much as the tame animals.” Grall nodded slowly as he sat down on a stone and rested. “What now?” He looked at her helplessly with his large black eyes. “I will support you.” She grabbed him under the arm and pulled him to his feet. It was a pitiful sight, but they tried. The way out of the ruins was uneven and difficult. “We have to move to the right here.” “Nonsense, we came from the left. You’ll get lost in your own room,” he sneered, panting and tried to grin despite the pain. “It’s a good thing that you don’t run back alone. You’d run right into a river, and I’d starve to death here.” Izzy poked him in the side with her finger. “But that would take a few days.” She winked, but that was the only funny thing about the situation. They barely got 20 meters when they had to stop. The path was too rough to walk with a broken leg, and Izzy was just too big to support Grall. It was a misery for both of them. “If you describe the way to me exactly, I’m sure I’ll find it.” Grall shook his head. “You mean well, and I’m truly grateful to you, but we both know that you won’t find your way back. We need another solution. Let’s go a little further, we just have to go over this root there.” Izzy nodded, got down on her knees and, to his surprise, lifted Grall up lightly like a small child. She trudged over the tree trunk with long strides and just kept running. “You can let me down!” “I could, but you’re actually not heavy, I can carry you at least part of the way.” “And if I don’t want that?” asked Grall, grimacing his wrinkled green face. His ears twitched and the hair at the ends tickled Izzy. “Swallow your pride.” She looked down at him as he lay there like a swaddling baby with his head on her bosom. He was visibly uncomfortable, but since he was silent, he probably didn’t have a better solution. They made good progress with this method, even though his weight still pulled Izzy’s arms down over time. He clasped her neck to help at least a little, but it didn’t make it much easier. Soon her arms were burning, but they weren’t far from Oozol’s farm, and so Izzy fought her way through the pain. She reached the farm with the last of her strength. Two riders on ponygirls came riding up, one of them was Oozol. For a moment, there were three young women wearing goblins, and Izzy didn’t feel comfortable about that at all. She hurriedly laid Grall on the floor. “What happened?” asked Oozol, jumping off his horse and examining his son’s leg. “That’s probably a smooth break.” Izzy and Grall looked at each other sadly. “I guess the holidays are ruined,” he said. — For the next two days, Izzy walked alone through the countryside. The weather was still beautiful, the sun was shining, and the birds were singing their beautiful songs, but without Grall something was missing. Not only was his company important to her; without him, she had once again got into a heated argument with Grunhilda, from which both of them emerged with black eyes. Without Grall, she also couldn’t investigate the ruins any further—though she hated to admit it, he was right about her sense of direction. She still remembered a trip a few years ago when she got lost alone in the forest; she had wandered around for two days until a merchant found her in a clearing. She did not like to think back to it, and it had been a warning to her. On the third day, she was finally allowed to go back to Grall. The way from her father’s hut was not far, and she met only a few old women who were gathering wood with racks on their backs. She stopped at the entrance gate to Oozol farm and took a deep breath. “You can do it, girl. It’s just a yard full of ponygirls. Nothing bad, you see them everywhere. The poor bound girls, with bridles and riders with whips. Everything is perfectly normal …” It was not her first visit to the farm, but it had grown noticeably over the years. Grall had often told her what was happening there, when he wasn’t complaining about his little sister. The little goblin girl had to be a real devil according to his stories, but he was probably just exaggerating a bit. Whenever Izzy saw her, she seemed quite nice, if a bit stubborn – but she shared that with her brother. Oozol, her father, was famous throughout the country for his ponygirls. He bred them, bought them and sold them, but he also trained them. This was also necessary because not every ponygirl was born as such; some were spoils of war, some had simply been kidnapped in distant lands, others had been made ponygirls as punishment, and some were even claimed to be voluntary—but Izzy didn’t believe that for a second. There was only one unwritten rule that everyone adhered to: No girl was used as a ponygirl in the same region where she had previously lived, unless she agreed. It was just too strange for many to see a friend’s daughter as an animal; whenever this was done, there were quarrels between humans and goblins. Therefore, Izzy knew that she was relatively safe, after all, her father and Oozol were good friends, and even in the worst case, neither of them would send her far away as a ponygirl. She took the first step and immediately heard Oozol calling. “Finally, I thought you had a stroke. Come to the window, then you can talk to my son.” As expected, he did not invite her in. She hadn’t assumed that either, the houses of the goblins were tiny. Unlike humans, they didn’t like high ceilings, so their rooms were just high enough for an adult human to lie down. However, the rooms were rarely long enough for this to work — goblins loved the confinement, which was simply oppressive for humans. Izzy sat down in front of the window and looked into Grall’s room, where there was hardly space for a bed or a closet. “How are you? Does it still hurt?” “At least my leg doesn’t hurt any more. We goblins heal quickly, but it’s still going to take the whole holidays.” He falls back into his bed, which consisted of a box with the best topsoil, the goblins liked to be connected to nature at night. “My pride has been hit worse. But you have developed well in the past two years …” He looked at her breasts, which he now knew firsthand how comfortable they were. Both turned a little red, which was not easy for a goblin with their thick green skin. He stared at the ceiling. “It’s terribly boring here. That’s not how I imagined my holidays. But we still have so many ruins to find.” “Then we’ll do it anyway.” Grall looked at her in surprise. “That’s not possible, you almost didn’t make it back last time.” He swallowed. “I also felt like a child. I won’t do that again. If anyone sees us like that, I’m the laughingstock of all goblins.” “But I thought you liked to be carried by girls,” she teased him. “What are you talking about?” asked a squeaky little voice from the door. It was Saxea, Grall’s little sister. She looked curiously into the room, but Grall only threw a pillow at her and slammed the door. He sighed. “Goblins enjoy riding ponygirls, but this was humiliating.” Izzy thought about it. Apart from his pride, it had also been decidedly uncomfortable. The weight was poorly distributed, and her arms were not as strong as her legs. She’d heard a lot of scorn from the other girls for her strong thighs, but there was no doubt about it – she was born to run, but certainly not to carry. She looked around as her eyes fell on a few fallen branches at the edge of the courtyard. “I have an idea,” she said, and ran off before Grall could ask about it. He leaned out of the window and looked after her. After a few minutes, she came back and held a wooden frame in front of Grall’s window. “This should work.” “Do you want to go collect wood?” “No, you fool, I’ll take you with me. You sit in it and we’ll go.” Grall looked at her with his mouth open. A fly flew in, and he coughed. “You want me to ride you?” “No way,” Izzy declined firmly. “You sit in it, and I run.” “That’s called riding.” “No, that’s not true. I choose the path, and you’re just my guest. No reins, no whip. Understood! You are something like an annoying talking backpack. Now shut up; otherwise I’ll change my mind.” Grall bit his tongue and preferred not to say anything more. He slowly lifted himself up and hobbled along the narrow path between the bed and the closet and disappeared into the hallway. Izzy shouldered the rack and waited for Grall to come out. His father followed him, and they spoke to each other in the goblin language that Izzy didn’t understand. Goblins spoke most of the time in the common language that goblins and humans shared, only very private things were discussed differently. Izzy watched the scene nervously; she didn’t really like Oozol seeing her like that, but now it was too late. “Well, I’ll allow it, but it’s a stupid idea,” Oozol said sullenly and helped his son into the rack. “Thank you, Isabel, for helping him. He’s unbearable in the house. How do you put up with him? If he wasn’t my son, I would have sold him long ago.” The old man giggled and waved after the two. Izzy straightened up and swallowed. It was a strange feeling to have someone on her back. It was different from a backpack because it didn’t make any movements and didn’t breathe into her neck! “Stop it,” Izzy said, but Grall had little choice. “Your hair flies in my face,” he scolded. “Can I tie it into a braid?” “But do it quickly …” She waited until Grall was done and dared to take the first step. She had to find her new balance first, but Grall was too restless and kept causing her to stumble. “Now sit still, or do you want us to fall over?” “I’m sorry, but everything is so different from up here. You don’t understand, you’re so big, but it’s like seeing the world with new eyes!” “Good for you, but stop it, or we won’t get anywhere.” The next steps were easier, Grall had calmed down, and she realized that she only had to lean forward slightly to distribute the weight better. This was no surprise to her, most ponygirls ran like this with riders on their backs. She snorted and pushed the thought aside — she had nothing in common with them! She ran a little faster, and to her great delight, Grall was hardly a significant weight on her back. Her legs continued to whirl, and soon she was running with the same confidence and control as if she were alone. “This is so fantastic,” Grall exclaimed. “You’re really fast, most other ponygirls would have to work hard to keep up with you.” Izzy looked at him angrily over her shoulder. “I’m not a ponygirl.” “Of course not, that’s not what I meant. But you’re really fast. I’ve never been so fast, it’s unbelievable. Follow the road a little longer, and I’ll tell you if we have to turn.” Their journey took a few hours, but for Izzy that wasn’t a problem. Grall tried not to be too heavy for her, and the path was easy. The ruins were worth a visit, even if they didn’t find anything special this time, but the view from the cliffs to the sea was reward enough. On the return journey, however, Izzy noticed that while Grall was light, the wooden frame had not been built for such long journeys. The raw branches pierced through her clothes and chafed her back and shoulders. It was enough for a ride – she was annoyed to even think of this word – but certainly not for longer. Grall’s bones also hurt, the wood was unpadded and bored into his skin as well. When they arrived at the farm, Oozol was already waiting for them. He gave Izzy something to drink and took the rack off her, shaking his head, without commenting on the red welts on her back. Izzy pulled Grall behind a barn at the edge of the yard so they could speak alone. “When do we meet tomorrow?” asked Grall excitedly, leaning against the wall so that his foot was not strained despite the cast. “We can look at a ruin in the south.” “No, that’s not possible,” Izzy said and lifted her shirt up, and Grall looked uncertainly at her back. The skin was torn all over, red, and sore. “Sorry, I thought the wood collectors had it a little more comfortable.” “Wood isn’t as restless as you are,” Izzy said reproachfully. “Besides, they don’t wear it for so long, and not while running. It can’t go on like this, otherwise my whole back will be broken.” “My father has a few medicinal herbs for injured ponygirls, of course they would work for you too.” He limped off and came back with a solid ointment, which he applied to her bare skin with trembling fingers. He also had to rub her side and tried his best not to touch her breasts. Although humans and goblins had entirely different ideas of attractiveness – and to their knowledge there was no mixed pair of lovers in the whole world – shame was well known to both races. Izzy flinched when he touched her side. “Good, that should be enough.” “Then that’s it?” She pulled her shirt down. Her voice sounded as sad as she felt. The holidays had always been sacred to her, it was the only time when she was only with Grall and could escape the ridicule and scorn of the other children. Without him, it just wasn’t fun. Grall chewed on his lip. It was an unmistakable sign to Izzy that he was thinking, but that he was also uncomfortable with the topic. She gave him some time, there was no point in driving him anyway, and waited anxiously until he was ready to speak. He swallowed loudly and cleared his throat as if he were preparing a long and important speech. He stood up straight, shook his shoulders and looked her straight in the eye, with an intensity she had rarely seen from him. Something important had to follow, and she was really curious to see what he had to say. She raised an eyebrow and waited until he finally opened his mouth. His voice trembled slightly, although he visibly made every effort to appear self-confident: “We should try it with a saddle.” Izzy looked at him in surprise; the slap hit Grall before she herself realized that she had swung out. The Saddle Izzy looked at Grall in disgust. “Have you completely lost your mind? What’s wrong with you, did you hit your head?” Grall slowly turned his head back, half his face was glowing red, but he didn’t seem to be in the least offended or angry. He didn’t even look surprised, rather as if that had been precisely the reaction he had expected. He looked at her with a slight smile and waited to see if she would hit him again. When she didn’t, he limped back a step to be on the safe side. “A saddle is perfect.” He flinched briefly as her eyebrows furrowed. “They’re made for humans to carry goblins on their backs, aren’t they?” Izzy nodded very slowly, like a stone giant waking up from a long and deep sleep. “It’s just a kind of backpack, no different from the wooden frame, only much more comfortable. Many wear saddles, that’s quite normal.” Izzy’s grumbling was probably difficult for Grall to interpret, so he leaned back a little and waited for her answer. “Horses … Ponygirls wear saddles, but I’m not a ponygirl! Besides, you don’t really believe that I’ll follow you to your father and try on saddles in front of everyone. You must have completely lost your mind!” “We don’t have to,” he tried to calm her down, but her eyes burned like fire. “If you allow it, I’ll bring one here, then you can look at it. You then decide whether we do it. No one will see it, no one will hear about it. Come on, at least look at it. Otherwise, our holidays will fall through. Pleeaasssee.” Izzy inhaled heavily. “ Fine, get it here, but beware of anyone following you or seeing it.” She could hardly believe that she was willing to look at one of these monstrous saddles. She had seen enough of it on the backs of poor girls and women in her life, and never wanted to get too close to any of them. But on the other hand, he was probably right: without a solution, their holidays were ruined. It was the last school holiday together that they had left before they would finish school. Who would know if they even had time for each other afterwards. Oozol had made no secret of the fact that Grall should do more on the farm, and there was always something to do on a farm like this. She waited nervously for his return. It was all very strange. Impatiently, she looked around the corner and shuddered when she saw a ponygirl slowly bending forward and kissing Oozol’s feet. She had never seen anything like it before, but Oozol and the other goblins seemed thrilled. She turned away in disgust and was startled when Grall stood in front of her with the saddle. “This one will suit you. But first have a close look at it, then you can decide.” The saddle was made of dark, thick leather. A very fine and elaborate work, as even Izzy immediately recognized. The seams were all perfect, and the leather was flawless and extremely soft, it gave way elastically under her fingers, only to immediately jump into its old shape afterwards. Nothing protruded and could hurt the animal’s skin – her skin, she thought, if she wore it. You could certainly have him on your back for hours without any pain, she noted approvingly. The straps with which the saddle was tied to the horse were as finely crafted and felt soft and smooth, the buckles were made of fine metal and so masterfully crafted that Izzy wondered why there was such an expensive saddle on Oozol’s farm at all. This wasn’t your usual saddle for any ponygirl, it had to belong to a rich goblin. “Did you steal it?” Izzy asked uncertainly. Grall shook his head energetically. “We have a few special saddles in stock. They are never used, so no one will miss it. It won’t be noticeable when we use it. I just have to clean it in the end.” Izzy’s fingers ran over the leather again. The saddle was clean, even too clean. It was obvious that no horse had carried it before, she would be the first – she snorted again, and would have liked to hit herself against the head. Where did these thoughts come from? She knew that the straps all had a different purpose: One part would go over her shoulder and support most of the weight, while another part would go around her stomach so that the saddle would sit securely on her hips and butt. In general, the butt of a horse was an important feature for a ponygirl. A good saddle followed the natural curves and made use of them so that the horse could distribute the rider’s weight well. This is one of the reasons why Ponygirls were popular, while pony boys were only used for breeding – apart from the fact that they were much more difficult to keep. Izzy looked over her back and realized with shame that her curves and buttocks were certainly perfectly shaped for a saddle. “Do you want to try it on?” Grall asked quietly. “We try, but you stop immediately when I say so. Understood?” She looked around again. There was little reason why any of the grooms should come here, but she wasn’t so sure about Saxea. Grall nodded, terribly badly to hide a broad grin. “TACK!” he said loudly. Izzy looked at him in surprise. She knew the word, she had heard it several times before. Goblins used it to get their Ponygirls down on their knees – whether to get on or off, or to do something with their saddles. She was boiling with rage, and was about to stop everything, but she gathered all her strength not to slap him again. “Sorry, that was just out of habit. Sometimes I had to help with the saddle. It won’t happen again, I promise!” “You really think I’m a ponygirl, don’t you?” she said sharply. “No, no, you’re my friend Isabel, and I know that. Really!” She knelt down slowly and turned her back to him. “With clothes?” he asked and quickly added before Izzy could say anything: “With clothes, of course… stupid question…” It was a strange feeling when the saddle was placed on her back. The material felt wonderful, it hugged her body and adapted to every single curve, like a soft coat. She waited for Grall to continue, but he hesitated. She looked over her shoulder, and he stared at her with wide eyes. “Your arms…” he stuttered, as if these words carried the danger that he could lose his head. And he wasn’t wrong, Izzy jumped up and looked at him fiercely. “We talked about a saddle, not that you can tie me up!” She grabbed his arms and twisted them on his back. He grunted in the pain. “Do you think that’s nice, would you like it that way?” “Izzy, please, you’re really hurting me. You’re too strong for me.” Izzy awoke from her anger as if from a trance and let him go. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but why do you think I’ll let you do that?” He wiped a tear from his face and rubbed his arms. He looked at her with the look of a kicked dog. “All ponygirl saddles are like that, you know that. Or have you ever seen a ponygirl juggling balls while being ridden?” “How am I supposed to know that there is no other way? I thought you’d just tie the saddle on my back and that’s it!” Grall nodded. “You’re right, I didn’t explain that properly. But it has to be done, or it won’t fit properly. The arms give the saddle lateral support; otherwise they wobble around too much. It doesn’t work without it. If we want to try, then we have to do it right. But it’s okay if you don’t have the courage to do it.” I grinned at her. “That was cheap.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But did it work?” Izzy sighed once again and got down on her knees, turned her back to him and twisted her arms behind her back. It was probably the most humiliating thing she had ever done, but she would rather not be told that she was too cowardly to try something new. As long as no one saw her like that, it was harmless. Again she felt the saddle on her back, only this time it encircled her arms. At first, she feared that her arms would hurt quickly in this position, but the saddle gave her enough support and didn’t squeeze her arms together, so it was actually quite comfortable. Nothing that she always had to have, but it would probably be bearable. “May I continue?” She nodded, and Grall threw the straps over her shoulders. Thanks to her expansive buttocks, the saddle was already sitting securely on her back, but she preferred not to think about it any further. Grall went forward and put the straps over her chest. He divided them so that one part ran to the right of her bosom, one part to the left of it, and a last part right in the middle. He hurriedly tied the strap around her stomach and fastened the sternum straps to it. When tightened, her breasts almost popped out of the fabric, and both blushed. He hardly dared to look ahead, but there was still a problem. Luckily, Izzy was wearing pants that day, but even so, Grall was uncomfortable enough when he still had to attach an important strap. “Can you please get up?” he asked, and Izzy guessed what was coming. Grall walked around her and took the lumbar strap, passed it under her buttocks and passed it forward, getting dangerously close to her intimacy, which was only removed from him by the fabric of the pants. Izzy was shaking slightly, but Grall’s fingers weren’t very calm either. He threaded the strap through the buckle on her stomach and pulled it tightly until Izzy howled in surprise as the material dug tightly between her legs. “It has to fit a little tighter, or the saddle won’t hold.” Izzy felt something warm in her abdomen and fought with all her might to ignore it, which really wasn’t easy. “What do you say, does it fit well?” With uncertain steps, Izzy walked around a few meters behind the barn. It was strange to walk without swinging arms, but apart from that, it wasn’t really very different than usual. She didn’t even feel the saddle, it was light as a feather. Thanks to her arms, it even had some distance to her back and let enough air through so that she didn’t get too warm underneath. She went back to Grall and knelt next to him so that she didn’t have to talk down to him from above. “Not bad, it’s a nice saddle, even if I don’t know much about it.” “My Buttercup is slowly becoming an expert in saddles,” joked Grall, and swinging into the saddle with a quick movement despite his broken leg. What followed was a moment of complete silence. He had taken Izzy by surprise, she wanted to discuss with him whether he was really allowed to get into the saddle, but it seemed that he had taken it all as an invitation. And then he’d called her Buttercup again. She wavered back and forth between shame and anger, and needed a moment to collect herself. “Are you okay?” he asked cautiously, he hadn’t missed the rapid change of mood. “GET OFF – NOW!” “But…” “NOW!” He did as ordered. “What was wrong?” “You will never get into the saddle again if I don’t allow it first. I am not a horse on your farm. You don’t ride me, I’ll just take you on a trip. Understood?” “Should I take the saddle off?” Izzy breathed in and out slowly. Her heart told her to say yes, and then feed Grall with the saddle. But her mind prevailed this time. Actually, he hadn’t done much wrong. He ought to have asked, but on the other side she wore a saddle, and such a saddle is for riding. So why shouldn’t he be allowed to mount her saddle? Was a saddle so different from the wooden basket, on which he was also allowed to mount? “No, but you’ll ask me in the future.” “I promise,” he said meekly. Izzy was a giant to him, a mountain of muscles and full of strength. It wasn’t a good idea for a little goblin to annoy someone like that unnecessarily. Most people didn’t even understand how strong they were compared to a goblin, but at the same time they were careful with “real” horses themselves, and the balance of power wasn’t that different. “May I please mount your saddle?” She nodded and went a little deeper so that he could get on her back more easily. For the second time that day — and the third time ever — she felt his weight on her back. But it felt so much lighter than with the wooden basket. The saddle was truly fantastic, a masterpiece, even if it was meant to turn a poor girl like her into an animal. Izzy shook the thought aside. The saddle was only a backpack for her, and Grall only a guest in it. She was in charge, and it would stay that way. She dared a few steps, and as with the basket, she quickly found her balance. “Ready for an adventure?” He nodded and gave her a little kick, as one did with horses when one wanted to spur her on. “Careful, Grall, you’re walking on very thin ice!” She started running, but Grall tapped her on the shoulder. “We have to go to the left…” “Oh, shut up,” Izzy said, but went to the left anyway. The journey from the farm was the most exciting part of the travel for Izzy. It wasn’t easy to avoid the many curious eyes, but when they were finally half an hour away from the village, she relaxed a bit. Izzy felt surprisingly free, even though she had Grall on her back. The saddle did not bother her at all, and she quickly got used to her bound arms. She ran along the paths and slopes and enjoyed the loud laughter of Grall, who also had his fun. Only occasionally did they have problems, when the loud whistling of the wind in their ears made it impossible to understand Grall’s directions. But that was a small price. The ruin was again worth a trip, this time it was at the top of a small mountain, and the view of the valley below was incredible. They found old weapons and even a book in a box, but unfortunately, it had been destroyed by the water. There were no treasures to discover, but even so they were not disappointed. Since it was already late, there were hardly any people left on the streets, so Izzy managed to get behind the barn of Oozol’s farm unseen and let Grall dismount. Even though the saddle was very comfortable, her legs hurt from all the running. “The saddle is good, but my feet are killing me. How was it for you?” “That was pure madness,” said Grall and grinned all over his face. “You’re so fast. And the saddle was really comfortable. Wait, I’ll take it from you.” He undid all the buckles and Izzy felt the pressure between her legs loosen, which she almost regretted a little. When Grall took the saddle off her back, he made a short “Hmm”. “What’s going on?” asked Izzy. “The saddle is comfortable, but it still ripped your clothes.” She looked at her back, and the cloth down in shreds. “Damn, that was a good shirt!” “So that’s it?” Izzy shook her head. “I’m thinking about something for tomorrow.” Grall’s beaming grin could have blinded even a blind man. “So we’re going to ride again tomorrow?” “No one rides anywhere here, but I’ll be happy to take you in the saddle if you like.” — The next morning, Grall was already waiting for Izzy. The saddle was also already cleaned and lying on a stone ready for the next adventure. But when Grall saw Izzy, he looked at her confused. “Why are you wearing a long dress,” he asked. The dress had a lot of resemblance to a potato sack, and did not necessarily flatter her figure. “I can’t put the saddle on you with that.” Izzy didn’t miss the disappointment in his voice. “My father was pretty angry that I ruined my shirt. The pants were also chafed between my legs.” She blushed. “But I have a solution. But woe betide you if you laugh at me. Promise me.” Grall nodded. “I don’t laugh, no matter what it is. Big green word of honour!” Izzy closed her eyes for a moment and clenched her hands into fists as if she needed to gather strength. She looked around again, then grabbed the hem of the dress and lifted it above her head. As promised, Grall did not laugh, but he was visibly unable to do so. His chin had almost fallen to the floor, and he was staring at her with his big eyes. She wore only very skimpy skin-coloured underwear, it looked as if she were standing naked behind the shed. “This a … surprising,” Grall stammers and swallows. “Are you sure?” “Do it before I change my mind.” “Good. I’ve brought you something, too.” He handed her a pair of pony boots in her size. This type of boot was specially made for Ponygirls. The high boots gave a lot of lateral support and kept feet and thighs dry even in bad weather. They had a small heel under which a horseshoe was nailed out of tradition. All in all, they were considered the ideal shoes for a mount, and Izzy also found them to be very comfortable — much better than her shoes for a ride … again she was annoyed by the thought. Grall put the saddle on her, and brought the straps back over her bosom, which he got to know much more personally this time. The strap over her bare stomach was quickly pulled, but the one for her abdomen made Grall sweat. Izzy was his best friend, but his fingers were only a wafer-thin fabric separated from her most intimate area, which obviously made him very nervous. He dropped the strap several times, and had to try again. Izzy would have liked to help him, but her hands were already under the saddle. Whenever his fingers stroked her abdomen, she flinched slightly. Finally, everything was in its place, and Grall looked at his work. “You look incredible.” “If you laugh now, I swear to you, you’ll regret it.” “No, you misunderstand me.” He raised his hands defensively. “You are beautiful. I’ve never seen you like this before. The saddle helps your posture. And the straps and pony boots look fantastic on you. There is no such great horse on the whole farm.” Izzy bit her tongue. It was a really strange compliment, and she didn’t like the comparison, but it was also the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. Her heart leaped for joy, while her brain complained. Maybe she should be a little nicer to him today. “May I get into the saddle?” She nodded, but only looked at him with a grin. “Um… Tack?” Izzy winked. “But let’s not make that a habit.” She felt Grall mounting the saddle. When she stood upright again, Grall gave her a very light kick, and Izzy walked off, ready for a new adventure deep in the forest. This time, only Grall knew where she was going, but it wasn’t as if she had found her way on her own anyway. — The ride took them deep into the forest on the goblin side of the island. Izzy had rarely been there — it wasn’t the safest place for an unaccompanied human girl — but with Grall, the risk didn’t seem too great to her. The weather was wonderful again, and as she had to admit, the freedom without clothes felt quite good. It was unusual, but certainly more of an improvement. The wind tickled her stomach as she ran across the fields. The border region was sparsely populated on both sides as a result of the war, so to Izzy’s relief, they saw no one. Even though she knew that a half-naked girl with a saddle was not an unusual sight for the goblins, she still preferred not to have this experience. Instead, she preferred to enjoy the sun on her skin and talk to Grall while they explored the unknown territory. It was a wonderful trip, the best so far. The pony boots were much better than her old shoes, even if the unfamiliar knock-knock sound of her hooves reminded her with every step on solid ground that these were not normal boots, but actually belonged to a ponygirl. But like the saddle, these boots fit her like a glove. Grall had a real talent for finding the best and most suitable things for her from her father’s stock. And like the saddle, these shoes seemed to be new. If Izzy had been honest with herself, it would have been hard for her to deny that the whole situation was also a bit exciting. There was something forbidden about walking half-naked through the forest with a saddle and pony boots, a boundary that required some courage to cross – and also because it was risky. But of course, she would never admit that, especially not to Grall, who already had enough fun with the situation. For someone who didn’t really want to ride Ponygirls, the rides — excursions, she corrected herself — were a lot of fun for him. He visibly enjoyed the height in the saddle and the speed with which Izzy swept through the landscape as if the devil himself was after her. They had already been on the road for two hours when Izzy broke through the undergrowth and found herself in a small clearing where two goblins were already standing on the backs of their Ponygirls. Izzy stopped so abruptly that Grall almost flew out of the saddle. She stared at the two riders, who looked at the strange couple with interest. “Don’t say anything, let me speak. You’re a ponygirl here,” Grall whispered, and Izzy was too nervous to nod. Sure, a nodding ponygirl would have been a strange sight. Grall waved to the two riders, who drove their Ponygirls to Izzy and Grall. “Greetings, stranger,” said the older of the two. Izzy huffed because, as was to be expected, the goblin only spoke with Grall, and hardly paid attention to her. Why should you talk to a horse, she thought sarcastically. “I’m Krom, and the boy here is called Drex. And what’s your name?” “This is Buttercup, and I’m Grall,” he said. Izzy hated that he introduced her by that name, but in this situation it was probably appropriate. The two goblins laughed loudly, which irritated Grall and Izzy very much. Finally, Drex spoke, “You must be the first goblin on this island to name his ponygirl first, and then himself. It’s a beautiful animal, no question, you seem very proud of it.” Grall blushed and looked for an answer, but he didn’t seem to find one. As Izzy noticed, he slid around restlessly in the saddle. “All right, don’t worry, I would have sold my wife for such a beautiful ponygirl.” Now Izzy blushed. Goblins really did have a different taste than human-men. At least if you looked at a girl as an animal. “It’s a shame that you let her sweat so much. Why does she wear so many clothes, an animal has no shame.” “She’s still very new, it was easier that way,” Grall lied. “I see,” said Krom. “Did she break your leg?” “No, that was an accident.” “Ah, so. But you shouldn’t humanize a new ponygirl either, it’s not good for them. If you want to hear the advice of an experienced rider: With a ponygirl, it is best if you set the rules right away and clearly at the beginning. Then the animal can best adapt to it. Uncertainty makes them nervous and gives them stupid ideas; it makes everything harder. Be clear, fair, and tough if you have to.” “That is certainly correct,” said Grall. “I’ll remember that, thank you. See you.” “Not quite so fast,” Krom said, and his voice had lost some of its friendliness. “Where did you get this animal from anyway? Did you steal it from the humans?” He looked sharply at Grall. “I’m old enough to remember the war exactly. Many have died for peace, we have all lost something. You can’t just go to them and steal their daughters.” Izzy’s eyes twitched nervously back and forth. Should she say something now? Should she explain that she was here voluntarily? She was about to open her mouth, but Krom continued to speak. “Imagine her escaping you. Then she runs home and tells everyone. That would be a misfortune, wouldn’t it? Don’t be stupid. I caught my horse there too — there’s nothing like a horse that you have conquered for yourself with your own hands and a rope — but you have to be careful.” Krom’s ponygirl looked at Izzy sadly. The girl wasn’t old, maybe a few years older than Izzy, but she was branded and officially registered. There was no turning back for her. It was shocking to hear that she was once a free girl, that this Krom — despite peace and laws — had been snatched from its home. “W-W-What should I do?” stammered Grall. “She won’t run away, I know that.” “They all seem to be tame – until you’re not careful. My horse tried it many times. It wasn’t always nice to punish it.” His ponygirl neighed unhappily, and Krom laughed. “You also have to abide by the laws. Every ponygirl must always be tied up or controlled. Your horse lacks a bridle, especially the bit and reins.” Izzy trembled under Grall, who sensed this and stroked her shoulder reassuringly, but swallowed audibly, too. This ride went in an unexpected direction, Izzy was only too happy to get out of here, but that was probably not up for discussion. “Good, we — I — will get something.” Drex grinned. “You’re lucky, we still have a set here. We always have replacements with us, but since we’ll be home soon, we’ll give it to you.” He got off his ponygirl and searched in a saddlebag, from which he took a bridle including bit and reins. Everything was visibly old and much used, the sight disgusted Izzy. She certainly didn’t want to get too close to these things, or even have them on her head. She took a few steps back, and Drex looked at both of them seriously. He sprang forward and grabbed Izzy by the strap. She quickened up in surprise, but didn’t dare to do more. “Tack!” Drex said, but Izzy was too confused to react. “Tack, Buttercup. TACK!” Grall ordered and flicked her ear, which brought her out of her torpor. She looked around desperately, but then she got down on her knees, not without looking for help at Grall, who also seemed rather helpless. She trembled all over her body while Drex put the bridle over her head. It was a terrible feeling, constricting and utterly unpleasant. In addition, it smelled strong, of sweat and tears. He secured it behind her head, and it was clear that she couldn’t solve it without Grall’s help. She hoped that was all done – it was humiliating enough, after all – but of course the bit and reins were still missing. She was close to tears herself when Drex held the horse’s bit to her lips, but she gritted her teeth. There was a limit, this far and no further. She was not an animal that you could just… strong pain ran through her breast, and she howled with her mouth open as Drex routinely and firmly twisted her nipple. Her mouth was barely open when the bit wandered in and clicked into the holder of the bridle. The taste was disgusting, of dirt and old spit — Izzy had to gag. “With some animals, you have to help a little. You’ll learn these grips.” “Quiet, Buttercup, quiet,” Grall said, stroking her head sympathetically. That didn’t help Izzy at all, it just made her angrier, as did the weight of the reins on her bit, and the feeling of them being lifted over her head and landing in Grall’s hands. Her mind screamed loudly, but so deep in goblin land it was too dangerous to slip out of character, especially when you had a goblin in front of you who had already kidnapped a girl. Izzy’s saliva ran out of her mouth, the bit was horribly unfamiliar. She pressed against it with her tongue, but it didn’t move unless the reins demanded it. The wood was hard and rubbed unpleasantly over her teeth. “This is a normal horse bit, but for such an inexperienced horse I would recommend a practice bit, it makes steering a little easier. Now up with you,” Drex said, slapping Izzy on the bare bottom. What a humiliation, but already out of reflex, she obeyed. “Feels good with the reins in your hand, doesn’t it?” Grall nodded bashfully. Izzy wanted to look at him, but Grall pulled the other reins and she had to look ahead again, whether she wanted to or not. “They are such big and strong animals, but with the reins, we can steer them as we wish. It gives you a feeling of power.” He giggled. “Try it.” Izzy would have loved to see Grall’s face, but even so, she felt Grall’s kick and took a few steps forward. She expected an order with the trains, but at first, it was just straight ahead. Only when they were close to the first row of trees did Grall pull the reins and Izzy howled. “Not quite as strong, my friend,” Krom warned. “You don’t have to pull her head in that direction, it’s enough to show her where to go and how long to turn. Let go of the reins if she’s going in the right direction. They are clever animals, they would rather not run into a tree.” “Of course, thanks for the tip,” Grall answered, and Izzy didn’t like the fact that it sounded truly grateful. They rode on – Izzy had no doubt that she was really being ridden, and not just taking someone on her back – and they continued to practice for a while under the gaze of the two goblins. Her hooves made the well-known knock-knock-knock and Izzy finally felt like a horse for the first time, after all, she had all the signs of one. It was terrible, humiliating, and just plain wrong, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Krom seemed satisfied. “You two are naturals, a good team. She seems to be a born ponygirl, new ponies are otherwise not so tame and follow the reins so well. It must be in her blood. You have made a good choice, it will certainly serve you well for a long time. Where did you actually want to go?” Grall told them about the ruins, and the two goblins nodded. “It’s in our direction, we can ride together for a while.” And so they did. For more than an hour, the three of them rode together across the fields and roads, with Grall in the middle, who had a lot of fun. The three told jokes – especially about Ponygirls – and the two goblins talked about everyday life in this part of the world. Meanwhile, Izzy’s only contribution was that of a ponygirl: she had to carry Grall wherever he took her. She had nothing to say, and certainly no control. It was a new feeling to be ridden, and one she didn’t like very much. She couldn’t be further from freedom than she was here at this moment. The two other Ponygirls just stared blankly ahead. Finally, the path parted in front of them, and the two said goodbye. Izzy wanted to say goodbye out of habit, but nothing more than a murmur came out of it. Nevertheless, the two laughed as if a talking ponygirl were the funniest thing they could imagine. Izzy lowered her eyebrows, but the evil gaze of an animal didn’t seem to impress the goblin men. “One last tip: You should take care of your mare’s mane. Such wild hair is disturbing. A good tail could certainly be made from that.” Grall pushed Izzy a little further until the men were completely out of reach, then he stopped Izzy with the reins. “Are you okay?” he asked cautiously, letting go of the reins. Izzy tried to talk through the bit, but it was useless, except murmurs and a few incomprehensible shreds. Like everything that day, it was very irritating. “I don’t know how to put the bit back in, and out here we should leave it in. You heard what they said.” Izzy stomped, but Grall just shrugged. “If you like, we can turn around. We’re almost there, but I understand if you don’t feel like it any more.” He looked at her questioningly, and Izzy thought hard. “Do you want to go back?” She shook her head, but it wasn’t an easy decision. “Good, then move on.” He kicks her lightly in the side, which he didn’t seem to notice any more. The next half hour was uneventful, and to Izzy’s relief, Grall let go of the reins, only occasionally pulling lightly on one side when he wanted to draw her attention to something, and otherwise using words as usual to lead her on the right track. But soon he added the reins to the words, and sometimes he omitted the words altogether. At last, they reached the ruins, but to their disappointment they were not worth the long journey. There was hardly anything to see, and anyway, it had probably been more of a small camp than a real castle. They found a broken sword, but there was nothing there for Izzy to suffer such humiliation today. Grall had jumped off, limping ahead and leading Izzy behind him by the reins, although it was completely unnecessary. When nothing was to be found, Izzy let him mount again. “It’s a shame, but we can’t always be lucky.” Izzy grumbled, everything today seemed to bring her bad luck. Grall steered her around with the reins and gave her a little kick to get her moving. To her shame, she had to admit that these commands work quite well. Soon she was running like the wind down a street, and thanks to the reins, it was no problem that she could hardly understand him due to the rustling in her ears. They often had to struggle with this on the last ride, but now at least this problem was solved by this horrible horse bit. Still, she will never have it in her mouth again, she was sure of that. On a slower part, Grall leaned forward and hugged her neck. “Thank you for doing this for me. I know how unpleasant the bit must be. You’re my best friend.” Izzy sighed. Her holidays are losing very differently than she had expected. The Washing Arriving behind the barn, Grall hurriedly took the horse’s bit out of Izzy’s mouth. She stretched her aching jaw and took a deep breath. “This is an instrument of pure torture. Who comes up with something like that?” “Riders?” Grall answered cheekily and loosened the buckles from the saddle and laid it in a corner. Izzy was able to get the bridle off her head herself after finding the safety catch on the back of her head. Grall held his hands in front of his face when he noticed that her bra and underwear had not survived the ride well. Blindly, he handed her the dress. Of course, he’d seen a lot of ponygirls naked — that was their normal state — but Izzy was his best friend, whom he’d known since childhood, and that made it different. “That’s not funny. Burn this disgusting thing. Don’t you dare come near me with that again!” “Absolutely not, that’s junk. My father doesn’t allow something like that on the farm.” He handed her some water so that she could rinse the taste out of her mouth. “Are we going riding again tomorrow?” “But not with this horse bit!” “Understood, I’m going to throw it in the garbage right away.” Izzy was satisfied with that, also because she had missed the word “riding”. “But we were fast, you have to admit that.” She grumbled. “Yes, but it was still humiliating. Do you still have a goal?” “Sure, dozens! The whole area is full of ruins. But I have to warn you, most of them are on the goblin side. Think about it. If you want to continue, we’ll meet here again tomorrow morning.” — The night was restless for Izzy. Her dreams revolved around riding and being ridden. She almost felt the bit in her mouth, and the reins on her shoulders. She woke up in the middle of the night soaked in sweat and realized that she probably wouldn’t be able to get this topic out of her head so quickly. To her surprise, they hadn’t even been nightmares; instead, she ran free as the wind across the fields, hearing the loud laughter of Grall in her ears as goblins stood on the side of the road and clapped. What a bunch of crazy dreams. — The next morning, Izzy ran overtired towards Oozol’s farm. She’d had the wildest dreams as a ponygirl all night, and now she was ready to try it again. Only this terrible bit certainly didn’t come into her mouth any more, the taste was still on her tongue. “Careful, please!” a goblin shouted behind her, and Izzy made way for a group of riders on their ponygirls. Something tingled in her stomach when she saw the reins, saddles, bits and boots, which she had now come to know in a very intimate way. She must have looked a lot like those ponygirls yesterday, only the branding, the registration number, and the tail – she blushed even thinking about the possibility – really set them apart. She took a deep breath and looked at the horses again. “Oh, do you dream of being ridden one day?” It was Grunhilda’s nasty voice, and she wasn’t alone. Some of her friends stood with her at the side of the road and laughed at Izzy. Izzy clenched her fists, but she also felt strangely caught. She was sure nobody could see the dreams on the tip of anyone’s nose, but on the other side, she had also stared quite a bit… “Certainly, she doesn’t have to dream of it. She has this goblin, Grall. She is his little mare. He’s ridden her, for sure, just look how red she gets. I bet she’ll go to him now and get the reins put on.” “How do you know…” She bit her tongue, but it was too late, she had blabbed in a stupid way. The girls burst out laughing, and Izzy couldn’t think of anything better than to just run away. She didn’t stop until she was crouching in the shade behind Oozol’s shed, tears shooting from her eyes. What was wrong with her? She just wanted to help her best friend, and now everyone would think that she… well, exactly what she did to him. If she were honest, Grunhilda wouldn’t think anything of her that wasn’t true. But she had never wanted anyone to know about it. A rough hand stroked her head. “Shhh, everything’s fine,” Grall whispered and only stopped when Izzy sniffed loudly and looked at him with red eyes. Why had that worked, she asked herself. Wasn’t this just how animals were treated? She told him what had happened, and he listened, as befits a good friend. Only when she was done did he say something. “That was just a slip of the tongue. They have no proof and will have forgotten it tomorrow. These stupid chickens cluck all day. Don’t worry.” Izzy nodded and wiped away her tears. “Ready for a new ride, Buttercup?” “Don’t do that” She didn’t have the strength for more than that. He shook his head. “In Goblin Land, you have to play your part. It’s easier if we start right away, or we’ll have a problem. It can be dangerous if they don’t think you’re my ponygirl.” Izzy bit her lower lip. As much as she hated to admit it, but if they really wanted to cross the border again, he was probably right. “All right, but only when we … ride out… otherwise, not!” It was not a good compromise, but she had endured worse in the last few days. She pulled the dress over her head, but this time she was not wearing any underwear, which almost gave Grall a heart attack. “Don’t be so prudish, you’ve seen many ponygirls naked. On the last ride, my clothes suffered too much, I can’t pay for that.” Nevertheless, she held her arms in front of her breasts and between her legs until Grall had lifted the saddle onto her back. She sighed when she had to put her arms back; now she was completely unprotected, but of course, she had expected that. Grall’s hands trembled like leaves whenever he even brushed her breasts, and he was more nervous than he had been in years when he had to reach between her legs. Izzy was also a bit restless, now that the strap rubbed directly between her legs — no fabric offered her protection. But she just didn’t have enough underwear to ruin one every day. “And wash the saddle every day.” Grall nodded with a red head, his ears twitched wildly. Finally, he was done and as exhausted as after a long race. Izzy was still kneeling in front of him, but her bare breasts almost jumped out at him. The straps of the saddle pushed her forward, as with all ponygirls. He helped her into the pony boots and held something up. “We need that.” In his hand, he held a brand-new bridle. The straps were shiny and visibly unworn. “Otherwise, we will attract attention again.” “No way, I told you to throw the stuff away! Aren’t you listening to me?” “Yes, and I put it in the garbage as promised. You won’t see any of the two goblins’ stuff again,” he explained. “This is brand new. I know it’s uncomfortable, but otherwise we stand out. And it’s dangerous for a girl so far in Goblin Land, you’ve heard that. If we do it, you’ll have to dress up.” She took a deep breath, her heart calmed down, and her anger slowly subsided. “Don’t tell anyone about this!” Reluctantly, the bridle was put on. Unlike the one from the two riders, however, it smelled quite pleasant, a little like … she sighed when she realized that it was the smell of buttercups. Grall laughed when he noticed that she recognized the smell. “The most beautiful smell in the world, if you ask me.” Izzy wasn’t so sure, but in the end, it was his bridle – or hers, depending on how you looked at it. She opened her mouth to tell him something about it when, to her shock, he put a new horse bit in her mouth, which immediately snapped into place on the bridle. She shook her head wildly, and Grall sprang back in fear. “What are you doing?” he asked, waiting for Izzy to calm down. “You agreed to the bridle. A bit is part of it so that the reins work. It’s a new bit, I bought it this morning especially for you, it’s your bit, no other horse will wear it. I promise!” Izzy still glared at him wickedly, especially for the “other horse” stuff. Now she already had her own horse bit. That was madness! Nevertheless, she tried to calm down, after all, he wasn’t entirely wrong. She tried to feel the bit with her tongue, but she held something metallic down. “It’s a practice bit for inexperienced horses like you, who have to get used to the reins first. When I pull the reins, a plate presses on the palate and tongue depending on the direction, so it’s easier for you to notice my commands.” He seemed very proud, as if that was a good idea, and not just another stupid torture device to treat her like an animal. Izzy grumbled dissatisfied. “I don’t have another one, but I’ll take it out, and we’ll break off for today.” Izzy shook her head and finally let the reins be put on, completing her transformation from an unloved girl to an – it seemed – admired ponygirl. Or so Izzy thought because now Grall took another pen out of his pocket. “We will fake the registration number, too” He hurriedly drew a number on the upper half of her right breast, which was now freely accessible thanks to Izzy’s courage. He had great difficulty not to ruin the number with his trembling. In the end, it wasn’t perfect, but it would certainly deceive most, at least at a distance. Izzy looked down and neighed — she didn’t know another word to describe the sound the bit forced her to make — when she realized that he had painted her with his birthday as the registration number. It was one more step towards being just an animal, and she felt even more like “his horse” now that she wore his number clearly visible on her bosom. If someone saw her now, she would no doubt sink directly into the ground. Meanwhile, she wasn’t even sure if she really found the ruins THAT exciting to go to all this effort. But Grall was obviously having fun, and as a good friend, she would rather not be the killjoy. “Wait, I still have a surprise.” He grinned and pulled down his shirt and pointed to a number he had painted on his own flat chest: It was Izzy’s birthday, which he knew well, of course. She grinned. “Best friends forever,” he said, hugging her. He awkwardly climbed into the saddle because of his broken leg and spurred her on with a small kick as he had done normally, while he steered her with the reins without words. Izzy realized that this was her first real ride as a ponygirl and rider, after all, they were already starting with the reins, and Grall was in full control. The practice bit was very unfamiliar, the metal tasted – well, like metal – and she had to follow the reins immediately if she didn’t want the metal to press painfully into the roof of her mouth or tongue. Grall also had to learn to be even more careful with the reins. Even a small pull was enough to control Izzy. It was obvious that the practice bit taught both how to well, and Izzy soon reacted instinctively to the reins, and was otherwise able to let her thoughts wander freely during the ride. It was a new feeling, as if she was a passenger herself on this ride because direction and speed came as if automatically. She only had to get used to the lack of her bra. Her breasts swung freely with every step, and since she was well-endowed, it was a very new feeling. But she would get used to that too, she was sure by now. The ride to the ruins was uneventful. They kept bumping into other goblins and their ponygirls, but Izzy didn’t seem to be unusual — just one of the animals, nothing else. At best, Grall got some praise for his ponygirl, but no one had any doubt that she was real. For Izzy, this was a strange experience that was not on her wish list but had now come true, nonetheless. Unfortunately, the ruins were a flop again, but both had got used to it by now, and at Izzy’s pace it was still only a lost day; if someone could see a ride on a bright summer day as a loss. Even Izzy enjoyed the weather and the run. However, the journey had taken longer than expected, and the way back was no shorter. It was already dark, and Izzy was completely exhausted before they were near the village. For once, Izzy was relieved that she could rely on the reins. Her eyelids were heavy and fell shut again and again, while her burning legs galloped over the hard ground as if by themselves. “We’ll be home in a minute, then you can rest,” Grall said and steered her on. Sporadically, he gave her a little kick when she slowed down. She wasn’t mad at him; she could really use some encouragement right now. It was only a few meters to the shed, but a voice froze Izzy as if to ice. “There you are at last; I thought you were lost.” It was Oozol who was standing next to the shed and running towards her. Izzy would really have liked to sink into the ground, but unfortunately, the earth didn’t do her that favour. Oozol looked strangely angry as he took the reins from Grall. Izzy watched at him anxiously – was he mad at her disguise? Was that possible? But instead, he just patted her on the butt in a friendly way, as he did – she had often seen this – with most ponygirls. This thought made Izzy tremble even more, she could only stay on her feet with difficulty, mostly because she was exhausted. “Tack,” Oozol said, and Izzy almost fell to her knees from exhaustion. As soon as Grall had dismounted clumsily from Izzy, Oozol pulled his ears out – not only as a proverb; the goblin boy danced around howling, while his father almost lifted him by the ears into the air. “You are a terrible horseman, my son. Look at her, you’ve completely overworked her. It’s probably time to teach you how to ride properly.” He let go of Grall and shook his head. “Surely, you think you already know everything, but your father knows a few tricks. Take her reins and come with me. The poor thing needs some rest. I’ll show you how to take care of your ponygirl.” Izzy was too tired to oppose – and thanks to the bit she was unable to do so – and trotted powerlessly after the limping Grall, as the reins demanded. Still, she was sure that currently she looked like any other ponygirl who had been led across the court by her reins over the years. The path led across the large practice area to a building that Izzy didn’t know yet. Oozol took the reins and tied them to a stake, to Izzy’s surprise — Izzy hoped, probably out of habit. “After every ride, you have to wash your ponygirl,” Oozol said. “It’s not just about removing the dirt; you also have to take care of their tired muscles. You borrow their power while riding, and that’s the least you can give back for it. Always be good to the animals you use.” Grall’s eyes widened. “But that’s why we have grooms!” “Is the fine gentleman too fine to get his fingers dirty after a ride? Look at your horse, you’ve demanded a lot from her. A little warm water is the least. If you can ride, you can also wash!” “Of course, it’s just…” he stammered and looked at Izzy embarrassed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m well aware that it’s strange for both of you, I can see that in your eyes. But you’ve decided to explore the world as a rider and a horse,” he taps the surprised Izzy on the breast, exactly on the painted number, “then you have to finish it. Did you send Buttercup home dirty the last few rides?” He looked at his son sternly, but it was Izzy who was almost frozen in shock. How did the old goblin know this name? She also looked sternly at Grall, who was getting smaller and smaller under the gaze of father and horse. “I’m sorry. That won’t happen again. Promised. I will take better care of Buttercup in the future.” There was that name, and Izzy stomped angrily, but Oozol seemed to interpret her reaction differently. “You see, she agrees. Where did you get all the stuff from? You didn’t help yourself to our supplies, did you?” Grall shook his head hurriedly. “No, I would never do that! I bought everything new for her.” Oozol seemed satisfied. “Excellent. Maybe you’re not as hopeless as I always thought. Even though you’ve overworked her a bit, I’m relieved that you’ve finally become a ponygirl rider. I was afraid that you didn’t like riding in general, but now I see that you were interested in our Isabel.” He patted Izzy several times on her bare buttocks again. “You couldn’t have chosen a better animal. It’s difficult to find good livestock these days.” Izzy neighed, if not in agreement, but Oozol interpreted it differently again. “Come on, she’s getting impatient. It’s late, too.” Izzy looked around the corner and saw Saxea, who was watching her with wide eyes. “May I help? I’ve washed many horses!” “Not with this horse,” Oozol said. “She’s a friend of Grall, you know her.” Saxea nodded, but something seemed to be on the tip of her tongue. “Why is she a ponygirl now, did you catch her? Will you give her to me?” Izzy snorted angrily. Oozol laughed. “It’s… complicated. Go now, you still have some chores to do, don’t you?” The little girl grumbled and left, for which Izzy was deeply grateful. She didn’t need any more spectators, especially none who wanted her as a gift. The two goblins fetched warm water, sponges, and soap. The first thing they did was take the saddle from her, although Oozol was not as hesitant as his son. The saddle was quickly down, and the two goblins cleaned it thoroughly, while Izzy stood tied to the pole almost completely naked in the yard. It was a strange experience, also because some grooms looked over at her. Of course, they recognized her, after all, she was the best friend of the owner’s son and well known in the village. Izzy could only hope that they would shut up, but she wasn’t sure. After the saddle was clean, Oozol spoke directly to Izzy. “It will certainly be unfamiliar to you, but please join in. My son has to learn it, and then can wash you in the future after all your rides.” It sounded to him as if there would be many more to follow today’s ride, and Izzy wasn’t sure if she really wanted to be used as a mount for so long. But there was a certainty in Oozol’s voice that made Izzy feel very insecure. “To make sure he learns it properly, we do it like with every ponygirl.” He handed Grall a few handcuffs and shackles. They tied her hands behind her back, then they took off her pony boots, which were also washed thoroughly. Then Grall put the ankle shackles on her, between which a strong but short ribbon was stretched, which allowed only short stumbling steps. “That’s for safety when you’re working close to a ponygirls legs. Their strong legs can be deadly for a goblin.” Izzy hated that he was talking about “their legs”, but maybe he was just referring to humans in general? Next, he gave Grall a collar with a leash, which he put on her and secured to the stake. Only then was she freed from the bridle and bit and washed both. “Please don’t say anything so that it remains realistic.” Izzy nodded silently, but it was still a good feeling to have control over her mouth again. She stretched her jaw in all directions, and her tongue could wander freely again. “The collar is more for practical reasons, so that the horse doesn’t wander around. The ankle shackles are more important. When washing, you always start at the top. Tack!” Izzy knelt down without hesitation — something she was slightly ashamed of — and Grall poured some warm water over her head. It was a wonderful feeling, like a bucket full of sunbeams. She felt the first dirt flowing with the water on the floor. “Please close your eyes, the soap is not very pleasant. Most ponies learn that quickly, but I’d rather warn you.” Grall took a sponge full of soap and spread it generously in Izzy’s felty hair. “Your mane needs some love. We should take care of that soon.” Grall also washed her face, neck, arms, and shoulders with the soapy water, but then he stopped. “What’s going on?” asked Oozol. Grall was so tense that Izzy feared that he would break his bones. “She is… so… I don’t know if…” “You humanize her too much. When she’s out there as a girl, it’s certainly different. But here she is your ponygirl.” Oozol grabbed Izzy’s right breast with one hand without asking. He squeezed her slightly, but only in such a way that it was still comfortable for Izzy, apart from the fact that he was groping her without even asking first. “Hey!” she finally said and leaned back, causing her chest to slip out of Oozol’s hand “If you want to ride into Goblin Land, and Isabel here –” he emphasized her name conspicuously clearly, as if to make a point clear, “– doesn’t look like a real ponygirl, then you’re both in danger. What if someone claims Buttercup –” Izzy hadn’t failed to notice that he was now using her ponygirl name again “– for himself? If you want to continue, then take the matter seriously. You two are the most important things in the world to me, too important to put you in danger. Isabel, you took your first steps before my eyes – I will never forget how proud your father was.” Izzy swallows, she hadn’t known that the old goblin felt that way for her. When Oozol stretched out his hand again, she grimaced and rolled her eyes. If it was really just about their safety…. Nevertheless, it cost her some effort. She leaned forward and placed her chest in his rough green hand. Oozol nodded contentedly and beckoned his son over, who took her other breast in his hand. It was surreal for Izzy to have these two goblins knead their breasts in the open courtyard in plain sight, but it eased the situation for all three; nevertheless, she was grateful when the two of them stopped, as she was slowly getting a little warm in her crotch. Grall took the sponge again and began to wash Izzy’s breasts, stomach and back. He seemed to have completely lost his shame, and with vigorous rubbing, he made sure that everything about her there was sparkling clean. He moistened the sponge again, and Izzy howled in surprise as he went right between her legs. She looked down at him, but he was completely absorbed in his task of washing his horse. He rubbed the sponge back and forth, and Izzy was about to make it clear to him that he took his work a little too seriously. Luckily, he wandered on to her wide buttocks, where he had enough to do. Finally, her legs and feet followed, then she stood clean again as on the first day in front of the two goblins, who judged her work with satisfaction. Or Izzy herself, she wasn’t quite sure. In any case, she pressed her legs tightly together, even so it was uncomfortable enough for her that the two of them had obviously noticed her enthusiasm for washing. Oozol was a professional, but Grall still giggled like a little girl behind his hand. Oozol untied the knot of the leash and handed it to Grall, who led Izzy – who could only follow him with small steps thanks to the shackles – slowly to two long troughs. One was filled with water, the other with ponygirl food. “Do you really want me to…” Izzy began, but Oozol silenced her with a shht. “If you are on the road for a longer period of time, you may have to adapt to local habits. And ponygirls are not allowed into taverns. Don’t expect a warm bed or a table in a pub when you go riding and have to stay overnight somewhere. Indeed, Grall will get all of that, but not you. Horses belong in the stable.” Izzy’s stomach rumbled, she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for many hours, and the hunger and thirst was greater than the shame. Grall tied her to a post between the two troughs. She got down on her knees and put her head into the trough of water. It was challenging to drink in this way, but it was not impossible either. Then, under the watchful eye of Oozol and Grall, she went over to the feeding trough and managed to get some food into her mouth without using her hands. It was humiliating, and to make matters worse, the food didn’t taste very good, but it wasn’t to be expected that anyone would take that into consideration. “Take your time, we’ll go out to eat something ourselves. We would share with you, but our goblin food is simply indigestible for you. This food is the only thing we have for ponygirls,” Oozol said. “And don’t worry about the grooms, I’ll make sure they don’t tell anything. Thank you for being willing to adapt to our traditions.” He left her alone with that. Izzy watched them in surprise as they disappeared into Oozol’s house. Traditions? Was that what it was all about. Was it just a goblin tradition to use girls as mounts? Just that, a tradition of how others celebrated the New Year or painted their doors blue? Through the window, she saw how they both set the table and ate a pleasant dinner. She grumbled discontentedly and then continued to eat herself, she probably wouldn’t get more here today. An hour later, a groom came to her, loosened her shackles and handed her her human clothes. She dressed in a hurry and disappeared through the large gate and ran home, confused and uncertain. Nature calls The next morning, Izzy’s legs trembled as she marched across the yard. Oozol waved to her friendly, but Izzy tried to ignore him. The experiences of yesterday were still deep in her bones, she could even feel his rough hands on her breasts – at least that’s what she imagined, and that was just as bad in the end. How could he be so relaxed after seeing her naked, touching her and washing her, she wondered. But it was of no use, politeness commanded her to go to him and talk to him. Grall was nowhere to be seen anyway, and she certainly didn’t want to just stand aimlessly in a yard where she had been seen naked by everyone yesterday. “Come to me, Isabel. How are you?” he asked in a good mood. So, he was serious and made a strict distinction between Isabel, the girl, and Buttercup, the horse, she thought. “Good, I think,” Izzy croaked, her voice cracking, and she almost choked on her tongue. “Beautiful day… right?” The old goblin smiled. “You could say that. Anyway, warm enough that you would like to run around naked, am I right? But that’s only for ponygirls.” Izzy nodded, embarrassed under his sharp gaze. “How are things going for you at school, apart from the school holidays. Are your grades good?” This questioning irritated Izzy deeply. Yesterday she stood naked in front of him, as nature had created her, while he and his son kneaded her breasts, and now he wanted to know something about her school, as if none of it had happened? Goblins were sometimes strange; No, actually, most of the time. “Quite good, I think. This is my last year, then I’ll be done.” “Very nice, a good education is important, that’s why we always train our ponygirls so well. Ah, here comes my son.” Like Izzy, Grall also seemed a bit overwhelmed. He didn’t look her in the eye, instead he studied the exciting pebbles on the floor. “Hello Izzy,” he said and coughed. “Do you want to … go riding today?” Izzy swallowed. Of course, he had to ask. But after yesterday’s experience, that wasn’t something she really wanted right now. Especially not when it led to her being washed naked by Grall again. It wasn’t even the humiliation that stopped her, it was more the question whether she might like it at some point. “Maybe we’ll just walk?” She looked embarrassed at his cast and ignored his disappointed look. “There you see, you’ve overworked her. Now she no longer wants to do it,” warned Oozol, who was probably blind to the truth. “Ride her a little more carefully in the future. Well, you two certainly have a lot to discuss, I’ll go to the other horses. But I would like to tell you one more thing: This whole situation is visibly uncomfortable for you. That’s silly, though, it’s quite simple: Isabel is a human, and Buttercup is a ponygirl. You must learn that humans and ponygirls have nothing in common, at least not for us goblins. You can only be one or the other at a time. In the end, this has brought us peace with the humans; do not dilute this line, that would be dangerous. Isabel here is a human to me, there’s no doubt about that. But if you put the saddle on her, I will treat her as a ponygirl, and I recommend that you do the same, my son.” He didn’t want to know Izzy’s opinion on this, before she could say anything, he got up and went to the stables. — “Where are we going?” asked Izzy. She followed Grall through the dense undergrowth. “You didn’t want to ride today, so we have to spend the day differently.” His voice sounded a bit reproachful, but yesterday’s experiences were still too deep in her bones, and she needed some distance. Grall kept grimacing as he walked — he limped slowly over the forest floor with his broken leg and avoided the branches and bushes. “Have you always been so slow?” Izzy asked cheekily and ran ahead. Grall called after her, but she didn’t listen. Since her rides — she shivered at the thought — Izzy hadn’t been used to running so slowly. She got faster and after a few meters she almost ran. The wind blew through her long straw-like hair, and she only looked ahead, into the distance – whatever might be there. Her mind paused for a moment, and she ran straight ahead without even looking to the side. A large tree appeared in front of her, but she made no move to run around it — she didn’t even slow down when the tree approached dangerously; why doesn’t he steer me around him, she thought, but she woke up too late from her little dream. She ran into the tree with full force and fell backwards to the ground. She lay breathless on the withered leaves for a moment before rubbing her head and sighing loudly. Had she just kissed a tree because she had forgotten that she wasn’t ridden by Grall? That’s precisely why she had to take a break, it all just became too normal for her! It took Grall a few minutes to catch up with her. He looked at the bump. “What was that about?” “Don’t ask,” she hissed, but Grall grinned dirtily — he could probably read minds. “Come on, Buttercup, we’re almost there.” She grumbled angrily, but she had probably earned the name through this nonsense, but it still brought back unwelcome memories. The experiences of the last few days had changed a lot, even now, the dress felt unfamiliar on her skin, even though she had only been a ponygirl for a few days. Could she have got used to it so quickly? She had even chosen a very short dress so that at least her legs remained free, she usually only wore it when she was alone — it was quite provocative, even her buttocks were not completely covered by it. Now that she was walking next to Grall, she also realized that it wasn’t a good choice in this case: the hem was still above his head, and it wasn’t good for hiding anything from the prying eyes of such a small goblin. “We’re here,” he said when they arrived at a small clearing with low grass. He reached under her dress and patted her on the buttocks. She was shocked, he hadn’t done anything like that before… but he hadn’t washed her between her legs before either; he must have believed that he now had the right to do so. She slapped his hand away anyway and shook her head. “I’m not your ponygirl, don’t forget that!” she said sternly, and he just nodded. “But we’re still friends, aren’t we?” “The best. But keep your fingers to yourself. Look, there’s a nice spot up there.” She spread a blanket directly into the sun and lay down lengthwise on it. Grall walked next to her on the blanket and pressed himself against her. That was also new, but Izzy just sighed and scratched his head, which he acknowledged with a pleasant hum. “Do you sometimes think about the future?” He closed his eyes and enjoyed her crawl. “Every day. My father doesn’t give me a choice either. He absolutely wants me to take over the horse farm. He never asked if I wanted to do that at all.” “Isn’t that a good offer? It’s the biggest farm in the whole area.” “Yes… but it’s also a lot of work,” he sighed. “What else would you want to do?” Grall did not answer immediately. She saw him chewing on his lower lip. Finally, he found the courage. “Ride on you through the world.” Izzy didn’t stop scratching him. They were best friends, and honesty was important. “Why does it have to be me? You have a lot of other ponygirls.” Now, she had even described herself as a ponygirl… Again, Grall thought for a long time. “You’re better than them. Better than all of them. As a ponygirl and as a friend. You’re faster than them, you have more stamina, and you look better.” Izzy blushed, and breathed faster, which Grall didn’t miss. “I can’t talk to them either. If I rode out with them, I would still be all alone. With you, I always have my best friend with me. It’s the best of both worlds.” “I understand,” was all Izzy said about it. And she really did. It all made sense to him. It was a complete picture, and Izzy only had to become his animal, his ponygirl. It was easy for him, he wouldn’t give up anything, just gain something. The two were silent for a while until Grall asked: “And what do you dream of?” He had asked her this question before, but she had never had a good answer. “I want to be more than just a horse,” she said. “But is it enough that you don’t want to be something?” “First, I want to finish school. I’m good at that… except in maths, of course. But I can read and write well.” “And we both love history,” he added. “But what do you want to do with it?” “Maybe I’ll become a trader?” Grall laughed. “Traders in particular must be able to calculate well.” “Or I can look for a handsome husband, become a housewife and take care of the children.” Grall grimaced. “And that’s supposed to be better than being a ponygirl? Where is the freedom in that? Where do you use your schooling to cook soups and stews? And besides…” He bit his tongue and did not say the rest; there was no need to hurt her feelings. Izzy looked at the clouds. Maybe there was just no good place for her in this world. Both simply lay in the clearing for a few hours and slept a bit. It was a quiet moment, without major worries — just two friends spending some time together. Grall dreamed firmly, meanwhile his head was on her stomach; he looked almost like a little green child, and a strange desire arose in Izzy to protect this little creature. Did she have motherly feelings for her best friend? She continued to watch him as he slept until voices could be heard from behind the trees. It was Bastian and his friends. She jumped up and Grall flew half a meter and rolled through the grass. “That hurt!” He rubbed his head and looked at her sleepily. “Shhh,” she said, holding her finger in front of her mouth. Grall’s ears went up and he nodded. They crept up to the trees and peered through the undergrowth. In front of them, as expected, Bastian and his friends walked by. Bastian was the tallest of them, and the only one of the boys who towered over Izzy. She wouldn’t admit it, but that’s another reason why she liked him. “What do you see in him?” asked Grall, for whom all human men were formless, as he had explained to Izzy several times. Where were the appealing ears, the hair on the tips so popular with goblin women, the long claws, the scales or at least a little green on the skin? Humans always look so pale. “You human women at least have interesting curves.” He suddenly fell silent. “You don’t understand,” she said, but if she was completely honest, she wasn’t sure herself. Apart from its size, there were so many small things… his voice, his hair, his eyes, even his fingers. And how he smelled! But was he really that different from others? She leaned forward a little to see more, but almost lost her balance and broke a branch. “Did you hear that?” asked one of Bastian’s friends. Izzy retreated behind the tree, her heart pounding. She was not willing to talk to Bastian here and now! “Probably just a bird. Behind the trees is a nice meadow, let’s set up camp there.” The friends came right up to her. Izzy grabbed the surprised Grall and ran. She didn’t look back, instead she almost flew over the grass and swept through the undergrowth as if the devil himself was after her. The already short dress got caught in the branches and entire strips were torn out. Grall tried to stop her, but Izzy was trapped in her own head. It wasn’t until 10 minutes later that she ran out of breath; she stopped and let him down. “That was silly,” he grumbled, raising his eyebrows at the sight of her dress. There were only a few shreds left, her underwear was also torn, and red welts ran across her legs, where the branches had maltreated her. “That doesn’t look good, we should go to my father, we have to treat it with salve.” Izzy’s eyes cleared again, and she looked down at herself as her best friend examined her naked abdomen. She was terribly embarrassed, but at least he’d already seen her naked — and more. But then she was a ponygirl, and now she was a normal girl. She held her hands in front of her legs and turned away. “What are you doing?” asked an unknown voice. Izzy looked around, and only now did she notice that she was standing in the middle of a street. Her eyes widened in shock; the voice belonged to one of Oozol’s grooms. “You don’t have to be ashamed, there’s nothing I haven’t seen with hundreds of other ponygirls.” “Hello Gribat,” Grall greeted him. “Please don’t tell anyone about this.” “My lips are sealed, even though I don’t understand why your horse is wearing a broken dress. And why are her legs so bruised? Your father won’t like to see something like that, you know his opinion on animal cruelty. He didn’t become the biggest dealer of ponygirls through cruelty, I can tell you that.” As always, when someone thought she was a ponygirl, the goblin didn’t talk to her directly. But Izzy wasn’t ready to play along today. “It was just a minor accident,” she said, staring at him. Gribat raised an eyebrow. A talking ponygirl was probably suspicious to him. “Good, as far as I’m concerned. But go to the farm anyway, you don’t want the injuries to get infected, do you? The vet won’t be back for a few days, be careful.” He patted Izzy on the bare bottom and said goodbye. Grall took her hand. “He’s right. I know a shortcut.” “Wait,” Izzy said, lifting the dress over her head. Now she was completely naked. “It was torn apart anyway.” Grall had already suspected that she was not wearing a bra either. He looked at the number on her bosom with a grin. Before he could say anything, Izzy picked him up and pressed him to her chest, as you would with a toddler. He blushed but put up with it – with a mock protest. Izzy felt that tingling in her stomach again. Maybe it was her maternal instincts, or maybe not. She ran off and followed Grall’s instructions, while his head pressed lightly against her bosom with every step. She walked through the forest, and for the first time in days she was really a human being – albeit naked. — They didn’t repeat the trip the next few days — the walking was too strenuous for Grall and Izzy just didn’t want to sneak around like that. Both were bored. Without the long rides, something seemed to be missing; Grall was also unbearable, half the time he just grumbled or looked for a reason to start an argument. Izzy suspected that things couldn’t go on like this. “Fine, but just a short ride, alright?” she offered in the morning, and felt the saddle on her back faster than she could think about it again. Her friend was clearly well-prepared. Grall nodded. “Unless you like it, then we can go a little further, right?” “Don’t challenge your luck. Hey, what’s that on the saddle?” Something hard and cold hit Izzy against the side. “Stirrups!” said Grall, visibly proud. “They were still missing, now my legs don’t dangle too much, and I can get into the saddle better. Great, isn’t it? Makes me look like a real horse rider, don’t you think?” “If you think so…” Izzy grumbled, shaking at the feel of the metal. It was bad enough to carry a saddle, but now Grall added things to make the rides even more pleasant for himself. “But that stupid paint on my chest won’t come off!” Izzy scolded, while Grall fumbled the strap between her globes. As always, she felt warm in her crotch, but at the same time, she was too angry to think about it. “It’s already been a few days, and the numbers haven’t faded one bit! I tried it with extra soap and scrubbing… didn’t do anything except hurt my chest!” “Shall I give it a try?” he offered and grinned broadly. “But seriously, that’s the point of it. If it could be washed off easily, it wouldn’t fool anyone! Imagine I’m riding you through the forest and the paint is wiped away by the rain or sweat.” “But how do I get rid of it later when we don’t ride to the ruins any more?” He avoided her gaze. “Don’t even think about it! I’m not your ponygirl. This is only temporary! With the number, I can no longer go swimming with the others. They’re laughing at me!” “You never did that before,” Grall grumbled. “Only with me.” “Good, but it’s still not right.” “I’m sorry, but if you really want to go swimming, you can go down to the lake with us.” Izzy raised an eyebrow. “Don’t your ponygirls go swimming there when you let them out to pasture?” “Exactly.” Grall nodded eagerly. “You wouldn’t be noticed.” She crossed her arms under her chest. “And you really don’t find anything unusual about this idea?” He thought for a moment, but shook his head. “You should be naked, but you know that by now. It is the best swimming lake in the whole area. People often complain that it’s wasted on the livestock.” Izzy rolled her eyes and left it at that. “Wait here, I’ll get your things.” Izzy looked after him thoughtfully. The washing was a few days ago, but it seemed like an eternity ago. Maybe that’s why she had let herself be persuaded again to let him ride her to a ruin. Or was she maybe even missing it? Her excursions on foot had always been enough for her in the past, but now something was lacking … She leaned over a fence and watched the ponygirls do their exercises as everyone froze. Izzy’s eyes widened, too. Gribat led a magnificent stallion – he was completely naked except for his shackles and a collar – across the yard, and all the ponygirls stared after him. His strong muscles twitched with every step, but most of the gagged ladies probably didn’t notice that. Like Izzy, her eyes were almost entirely fixed on his abdomen, and there was no doubt that he not only enjoyed the attention, but that it aroused him. He only looked a little older than Izzy, and his self-assurance took her breath away. His firm steps seemed to shake the ground. Above all, however, her heart inherited in a way that she had not felt even with Bastian before. A loud snap brought her back to reality. “I thought that your standards were a little higher,” he said scratchily. Was he jealous? “Shut up. I was just curious.” “You stared at him like a piece of livestock. And I don’t mean him.” “And if so, he’s a man.” “He’s a horse. A pony boy. An animal. You heard my father; this distinction is important.” Izzy gave him an angry look, and said nothing more. She waited for his “tack” and got down on her knees, where he put the rest of the equipment on her. But she was ringing in her thoughts. “You stupid cow,” it screamed in her head. “How can you stare at an animal? He’s just a horse… Like me?” She shook herself as the horse’s bit wandered into her mouth. They had developed a real routine together, and now it went quickly. He led her to the square and was about to get into the saddle, but his father stopped him. “My son, I have a surprise for you.” The old goblin beamed all over his face. Behind him, he led a ponygirl by the reins. “You can’t imagine how happy I was when you finally started riding. It was a terrible shame that you had always rejected it so far. The other goblins have all torn their mouths, already thinking you were one of those human friends…” He coughed. “I also have a human as a friend, but you have to know the difference if you understand what I mean.” He winked. “This is Sunshine, I just bought her especially for you. She comes from one of the best hunting grounds, she is well-behaved, well-trained and very fast. What do you say?” Izzy shuddered. Hunting areas? Was she… captured? Of course, Izzy thought, that was to be expected, many ponygirls were not of breeding, but girls who had been kidnapped from distant countries. Oozol held the flat of his hand in front of Sunshine. On top of it lay a small, brown treat. Sunshine leaned forward and grabbed it with her lips without hesitation, although chewing with the horse’s bit in her mouth didn’t seem easy. Izzy froze. How humiliating to eat out of a goblin’s hand! How low did you have to sink to do this voluntarily? Would she do the same if … she was a ponygirl, like now? She brushed the thought aside. Sunshine was an animal, she herself was a girl who only looked like a ponygirl, and not a real ponygirl. It was something wholly different! She hoped… “You want to know what I have to say about that? Tack!” Izzy got down on her knees; Grall put one foot in the stirrup and climbed into the saddle. Immediately, Izzy got up again. Izzy’s eyes twitched nervously back and forth; the situation was strange and uncomfortable for her. What was going on here? Did Grall have to choose between her and this… girl? And why did her stomach twist so much — was she jealous of another “animal”? “What does that mean?” asked Oozol sternly. “That you can return her. I don’t want another ponygirl, Buttercup is the only horse I want.” Izzy neighed to remind him that she wasn’t his horse, but as always, she was misunderstood. “You see, she sees it that way, too! What am I supposed to do with two horses? I can only ride one.” Oozol snorted discontentedly. “Ponygirls don’t come with a right of return, my son. Now I have to find a buyer. Why don’t you ride her on your adventures, and Isabel just runs along?” “So that someone just snatches her away? No, it’s too dangerous.” “Well, of course that’s not possible,” Oozol said, raising his hands. “But what if Buttercup doesn’t feel like being your ponygirl any more? The holidays are almost over, and you’ll soon have to take on more responsibilities — that includes frequent riding. You can’t always go to school and take Isabel out of class to ride her.” Grall giggled. “That would be a strange sight. They would all look pretty stupid. If Buttercup doesn’t want to do it any more, then I’ll think about it. But until then, I’ll only ride her. There is no better horse anyway.” Izzy neighed again, and Oozol rolled his eyes. Grall gave Izzy a little kick and rode her out of the yard, leaving his father with the confused Sunshine. — The ride had already lasted several hours. Izzy enjoyed the warm summer sun and let her mind wander while Grall took care of the direction. Only subconsciously did she feel the slight movements of the reins, which her body now followed all by itself; Grall was like a puppeteer who controlled her over the ropes and made her dance. It should have bothered her, but somehow it was liberating and strangely calming. She hardly noticed the saddle and bridle, even less than the dress that had been torn by the undergrowth. She felt free and unbound, even if that didn’t correspond to reality, of course, but it was nice to be able to rely on Grall. All she had to do was move her legs; he made all the other decisions for her. The path itself was easy and straight, a large part of the route led along large roads, where they met ponygirls with their riders again and again, but also large carts, in front of which several ponygirls were harnessed. One of the riders greeted Grall warmly and accompanied them for a while. He introduced himself as Kemtik, and was on his way to his daughter. Grall and he had a casual conversation. Izzy was no longer uncomfortable with other riders around; she had long understood that she was only seen as a ponygirl – and there was nothing wrong with that in this part of the world. But something else became a problem: she had learned from the last rides and had drunk more than usual that morning so as not to run thirsty through the sun for half the day again, but unfortunately, she forgot that everything that comes in at the top has to come out at some point. And that’s precisely what her body demanded now. With every step, the pressure grew and she only danced the last few meters. She neighed restlessly, but Grall didn’t even seem to notice. So his father was right, Izzy thought, he was still too inexperienced to recognize the needs of his horse — in this case, herself. She was also absolutely not ready to just pee while running, especially since that would certainly cause trouble. As she neighed again, then Kemtik came to her rescue. “Your ponygirl seems to have to kick out,” he said, laughing as Izzy squeezed her legs together. Grall shook his head. “No, everything is fine. She’s a good animal that doesn’t hurt anyone.” Izzy rolled her eyes. What a fool. The goblin laughed. “She has to pee!” “Oh!” was the only thing he could say. Izzy looked over her shoulder and Grall stared at her with wide eyes. “You seem very inexperienced to me. Is it your first ride? Don’t take too long, she’ll pee on your shoes. That’s happened to me before.” “But can’t she just go into the forest?” stammered Grall. “That’s the idea, but you’ll have to help her. For one thing, you can’t sit on her back. On the other hand, you should open the strap between her legs; otherwise it’s a big mess.” Grall swallowed audibly. He had probably imagined animal husbandry to be a little easier. He rode Izzy between the nearest trees and got off the saddle. Both looked into each other’s eyes, but while Grall seemed insecure, Izzy was now ready to endure anything if she could finally get rid of this pressure. She felt like she was going to burst soon. “Is your ponygirl housebroken?” Kemtik asked, and Izzy blushed at the question, but finally, she took on the colour of a tomato when Grall also said no. “You have to teach her the rules, they are essential.” His ponygirl tapped her hooves in agreement. “You are responsible for the cleanliness of the paths. It is therefore important that she only empties herself when you allow her to do so – no matter how much pressure she feels. You have to train her well, ideally she can’t even if she wanted to, without your permission.” Grall nodded. He knew the words; his father often used them with the ponygirls. He went to Izzy and told her, “You can’t pee until I say, Rhida Kess. That means as much as water flows. Not before. Did you understand that?” Izzy nodded eagerly. She would agree to anything if only she could finally pee. Grall reached between her legs and opened the strap. It was a great relief. She knelt down and looked at Grall, who only looked at Kemtik. He, in turn, looked at Izzy, as did his horse. “Give her another moment, she has to learn that you’re in control,” the goblin said. Izzy looked at the goblin angrily, but he didn’t even seem to notice. This was probably also because Izzy had been grimacing the whole time, so the furrowed eyebrows no longer made much of a difference. “How long?” asked Grall who visibly did not enjoy watching his friend suffer. That was also his luck, the god of the goblins would not have been able to protect him from the wrath of the big girl if she had believed for even a second that he would enjoy it. “As long as it takes.” Izzy fidgeted back and forth more and more. She didn’t dare to ignore Grall, they were too deep in goblin territory. She was his ponygirl, and those were the rules. But it was terrible, her bladder was pressing and sweat was running down her forehead. “Just a few more seconds,” Grall lied, and Izzy nodded sweaty, but he kept her waiting. She was on the verge of really bursting when she saw Kemtik nod and finally heard the liberating words: “Rhida kess!” The relieved “ahhhh” echoed through the whole forest, and all three observers giggled. Actually, Izzy would have been terribly embarrassed that someone was watching her do it, but right now, she didn’t care about anything as long as this pressure finally eased. But she also felt like a good dog who pulled up to a tree in front of his master while walking her, and it was not far from the truth. Another thought also drilled into her head: Here in the land of the goblins, Grall really had the say, it was the law. Now he even controlled when she was allowed to pee. After she was empty, Grall secured the strap again and patted her lovingly on the bottom. “You did well.” She didn’t deign to answer. A few kilometres further on, the couple separated, but unfortunately for them, they had not found the ruins by evening. But Grall had learned from their last ride and steered Izzy back. “My father will kill me if I overexert you again,” he said, as if Izzy had no problem with that herself. “I have an idea: You can sleep on our farm. Then we can leave very early in the morning, and maybe we’ll find the ruins. It would give us more time if you didn’t have to come to me from home. You’ve never slept on the farm before; it’s going to be interesting.” Izzy thought about it for a moment. Although they were best friends, she had really never stayed with him before. That was almost strange. She turned her head to him, smiled as best she could with the horse’s bit in her mouth, and nodded. “Great! I’m excited for it. Tomorrow we will definitely find the ruins.” He hugged her neck and gave her a loving big kiss right on the neck. Horse training “Do you even have a bed big enough for me?” Izzy asked after Grall had taken the horse bit out of her mouth. “Your house is a bit small for me.” In fact, his father’s whole house was barely longer than Izzy, although it had several rooms. Goblins loved the narrowness of their dwellings, probably because their ancestors supposedly lived in caves. But that was no use to Izzy, unless she wanted to sleep in the dirt in front of his window. Grall giggled. “Not exactly a bed, but a roof over your head,” he explained, helping her out of her clothes. “This is a farm, and we have plenty of stables. Much more than we actually need; my father recently sold a few ponygirls for a good profit.” Izzy shuddered. She would probably never get used to Oozol dealing with humans. Ponygirls, she corrected herself, but was there really such a big difference? “It’s not a luxury hotel, but there is clean straw and it’s warm. Or is the princess too good for a little straw?” Izzy rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine for one night. But you leave the door open, understood?” “Fine, I’ll leave it open a crack. If it’s fully open, everyone will know something’s wrong.” “But I can open it myself, right?” “Only if it’s not completely closed. If it falls shut, it stays closed. Anything else wouldn’t be good for a stable for a ponygirl. After all, they’re not here voluntarily. But it’s only for a short night, that’s no problem, is it?” “Fine, let’s get this over with. But I’m not going to lie down in the straw with my clothes. Put them somewhere in your room.” Grall did as he was told and put Izzy’s dress from the morning in a corner of his room, where it took up a surprising amount of space in the tiny room. “Which stable should it be?” Although she didn’t like to admit it, the word stable gave her goosebumps. It was bad enough that she was used to a saddle and horse bit by now, but a stable seemed like very real — a place that could quickly become her home if she wasn’t careful. “The one right here in front, we hardly ever use it. It’s closest to our house, but also the furthest away from the other stables. That’s perfect for you, isn’t it?” He hobbled ahead and opened the stable door. “I’ll bring you a blanket so you’ll be a bit more comfortable at night. Ponygirls don’t usually have one, but I’ll make an exception for my Buttercup.” Despite the cast, he was quick enough to dodge her fist; both of them laughed, but not too loudly to attract anyone’s attention. The blanket was thin, but in the summer, it was warm even at night. Grall wished her goodnight and closed the stable door, but only just enough so that the lock didn’t snap shut. A little light came through the old boards; otherwise, Izzy lay in the dark. It was her first night in a stable, until now, she had always slept in the open air – if she was outside of her bed. In that sense, a stable was actually a little more comfortable, the straw was fresh and so plentiful that Izzy could use it to make a bed. Still, it was a strange feeling, after all, this was a place for an animal, not a girl. Or had she already crossed that line? Her hands wandered along her body. Why did this thought make her so nervous? Was it because of Grall, or was it the situation? She moaned softly and bit her tongue. “That doesn’t change anything,” she whispered into the night, her cheeks red. The wind howled and rustled the leaves, the air tugged at the door, and a final gust of wind pushed the stable door shut. “Damn.” — The night was shorter than Izzy had expected. This was not because she had not slept well — in fact, she was lying relaxed in the straw, the blanket had slipped to the side, and she was dreaming of wide fields and the reins that showed her the way. But this dream was abruptly interrupted when the stable door opened loudly and the first light of the early morning hit her face. Like an awakening giant, she turned around and blinked so that her eyes could get used to the blinding sunlight, but some sleeping sand still robbed her of her vision. Instead, she heard footsteps approaching on the straw. Yawning, she opened her mouth to ask Grall what time it was, when she felt a bridle over her head and the familiar feeling of a bit being pushed into her mouth. Before she could react, the visitor grabbed her arms and tied them almost effortlessly behind her back. Her legs were also quickly secured. All of this happened before her head had really woken up. Slowly her eyesight returned, and she realized with horror that it was not Grall who had woken her, but one of the goblin stable boys. He seemed strong for his small size. Her heart was pounding wildly, but she did not yet have the strength to fight back — and would that even be a good idea? “It’s good that I found you first. I must have made a big mess yesterday, why did I bring you into the stable without any security? The master would have ripped my head off if something had happened. You must be new, I don’t remember you; that was way too much beer yesterday.” He rubbed his head and seemed barely more awake than Izzy. “Wait, now I recognize you.” Izzy’s heart froze. “You are Grall’s new ponygirl. I wondered which stable he put you in. You always disappeared in the evenings, but I rarely look up here. The master said that his son wanted to go riding today, so I’d better finish you off right away.” He stroked her head and gave her a little pat on the bottom. Izzy was seething with anger. Of course, the stable boy had to think she was a horse, who else would be stupid enough to sleep naked in a stable? But it was actually her own fault, she didn’t have to get involved in it, and she knew that. Now she was in trouble and had to put up with this nonsense again. She took a deep breath and decided not to make trouble for the stable boy. It wasn’t his fault, and he actually seemed very nice. She had already allowed Grall to turn her back into an animal in the morning. The only difference was that now a stranger was turning her into a pony. Izzy felt her whole body warm at the thought. “Pexo, are all the horses ready yet?” called Oozol, who was working somewhere behind the barn. “No, master, one is still missing. I’ll prepare it right away,” Pexo replied. It was not the kind of greeting Izzy had expected that morning, but she had no choice. She would have liked to call Oozol for help, but tied up and with the bit in her mouth, that was impossible, so she had to follow the stable boy, who had put a collar and a leash on her. Her small steps were more strenuous than a sprint, but the stable boy paid no attention to her problems. He led her to a hut, where he tied her up naked in the open air. The fresh wind blew over her body, something she had got used to by now. Pexo laid Izzy’s riding clothes on the ground next to her — everything was clean and shiny — and put the clothes on her one after the other. It was the familiar routine, as with washing, there was no hesitation or shame. To him, she was simply a ponygirl who needed her clothes. The straps on her breasts were quickly done, and the one between her legs was also pulled in record time. She barely had enough time to blush. “You’re done with that,” said Pexo, holding out one of the treats that the grooms also gave to the other ponies. It was probably meant kindly, but Izzy snorted and declined. She hadn’t sunk so low that she would eat out of a goblin’s hand like an animal. But Pexo didn’t seem to mind; he put the candy back in a bag and slapped her a little too hard on the bottom, causing Izzy to neigh loudly. But it wasn’t just Pexo who heard that; Grall giggled too. He had just hobbled around the corner and was smiling. “This is a very welcome surprise,” he said enthusiastically, with a lightness that only someone who had not been woken up in the morning with a horse’s bit could have. “It saves a lot of time. I’ve never been greeted in the morning with my own saddled horse. I could get used to that. Maybe I will.” Izzy stamped her feet angrily. For her, it would remain an exception, and his jokes didn’t change that. “Your father said you wanted to go riding, so I got her ready right away.” “Good work. Everything looks right!” Grall praised Pexo’s work, as if it wasn’t completely insane that he had just equipped a human girl with a saddle and bit. “Was she good?” “Very well-behaved. She is a beautiful animal. Where did you buy her?” Grall bit his tongue. “Oh, she comes from far away. Very far away. They have the best horses there.” “You can see that! Great stature, very healthy. She must have cost a fortune.” Izzy’s friend grinned, “She’s priceless.” Pexo had just left when Izzy heard the familiar “Tack!” and let Grall climb into the saddle. “Don’t worry,” said Grall, stroking her hair. “You would have been saddled anyway, and Pexo did it well. Was it really that bad?” Izzy hesitated before nodding slightly. It didn’t really make much difference who saddled her, but it was a matter of principle! She stamped her feet firmly. “Well, if I don’t miss it, I’ll saddle you in the morning, okay?” That sounded fair, except that he was obviously planning many more rides. Izzy grumbled, but finally nodded. She felt his kick and was already on her way out of the yard before Oozol stopped her. “Not so fast. Remember when I didn’t approve of your abilities as rider and horse?” They both nodded, which looked silly, especially for Izzy with the bit and reins. But for once, Oozol really wanted to hear her opinion. “Good. Today we’re going to practice a few basic things. First, I want to know from Grall if he remembers what the different stages in training a horse are called.” Grall swallowed and Izzy looked over her shoulder. He had the air of a boy who was about to forget something he had known all his life. “Foal, young horse, riding horse, and…” He stuttered and stared at his fingers as if the answer was hiding somewhere between them. Izzy would have liked to help him, but she had no idea. “So… I’ve got it! Dressage horse and master horse.” Oozol nodded in satisfaction. “That’s right. A foal has never had a saddle before, most are too young, or have been recently caught.” Izzy snorted at this description. How could he pretend that it was okay to catch a girl and force her to live as a horse? But that was just how goblins were. “A young horse has been used to the saddle, but is not yet ready to be ridden normally. A riding horse is — as the name suggests — already broken in and can be used for rides. Buttercup here is actually such a riding horse, but you simply skipped the training as a young horse.” He looked at both of them reproachfully. “Dressage horses know a few tricks, and are also trained for competitions, while a master horse is the highest quality. That is rare, however. Master horses are docile and perfectly adapted to the life of a horse. Buttercup could reach that level if you both try hard.” Izzy snorted loudly; that was really not something she needed in her life. It was humiliating enough that for Oozol she was not just a horse, but a riding horse. How much nonsense did she have to listen to? She neighed loudly, but Oozol silenced her with a wave of his hand. “If you don’t want to train, then you won’t be allowed to ride any more.” “That’s unfair!” Grall complained angrily. “We did everything right. We know everything we need!” “Good, prove it!” He went into the shed and came back with blinders. “Here, put them on Buttercup. You can put them over the eyes, so the horse can’t see. Prove to me that you can handle her only with the reins.” As promised, the blinkers took away Izzy’s sight, at least as long as they were closed. It was an unpleasant feeling, especially when Oozol stuffed cotton wool into her ears. Now she was blind and deaf and had to rely entirely on the reins. Nothing happened for a few minutes, then Grall gave her a light kick and she ran off. But that was probably too fast, she felt a jolt to the right, but before she could react, she ran painfully into a pole. She was sure that the place had been free before, but Oozol must have set up a few obstacles for the exercise. Izzy shook herself while Grall stroked her shoulders. His voice seemed to come miles away through the cotton wool, and she understood nothing — except the new kick. Now she went a little slower until Grall gave her another kick and she ran a little faster. Without thinking, she reacted to the reins and went a little faster with the next kick. She was slowly becoming uneasy about how many quick commands Grall used to lead her around the obstacles that were invisible to her; only once did some wood scrape past her leg and leave a small wound. Grall brought her to a stop with a tug on both reins. Grall pulled the cotton wool out of her ears and opened the blinders again, but he didn’t take them off completely. “Satisfied?” His voice was unusually haughty, but Oozol seemed impressed. “That was probably more the horse’s performance, not the riders. But it was good, you’re well-coordinated. It’s not often that someone succeeds so quickly.” Izzy looked around and froze. The whole arena was full of obstacles, some of which looked like it would be very painful to run into them. Luckily for her, she didn’t have to experience that. But what was worse were the many spectators that had gathered around the arena. All the grooms had paused their work and watched her on her little ride. The first ones clapped and Izzy danced around on the spot, embarrassed. “Is she officially a riding horse now?” “Why not.” Oozol held out one of the treats to Izzy. At first, everything in her was reluctant to eat the small brown candy from his hand, but considering that she could probably flush any feelings of shame down the toilet today anyway, she put her concerns aside. The other horses seemed to like these candies very much, maybe they even tasted good? She got down on her knees and pressed her mouth against Oozol’s hand to get the treat into her mouth despite the horse’s bit. It was difficult, and Oozol did nothing to make it easier for her. She had to use her lips like a shovel, and felt the rough skin on Oozol’s not entirely clean hands. Finally, she managed it, and to her surprise, the candy was absolutely delicious! They reminded her a little of the sweets that the old goblin witch Hersia always gave her – she was a terribly nasty woman, but at least her sweets were pretty good. How strange that Oozol’s tasted so similar; it must have been a goblin recipe that was widely used. “All horses love our treats,” said Oozol dryly. Izzy concentrated on the taste; the candy was extremely creamy and tender, it almost dissolved on her tongue by itself. The taste spread throughout her mouth, it was a mixture of vanilla and herbs that Izzy couldn’t identify. Every time she moved her tongue, the taste changed and became even more intense. She nudged him and asked for another candy, which he gave her. “They taste horrible to us goblins, but ponygirls have different tastes. Buttercup, I congratulate you, you are now one of the horses who are allowed to carry a goblin.” A neigh was Izzy’s only response. It was not an honour she wanted, but hardly anyone asked her opinion any more anyway. — The ride took them deep into goblin country again, but they had set off early enough that this was not a problem. The roads were still empty and they were making good progress. The thump-thump-thump of Izzy’s hooves was often the only sign of civilization in this part of the world, and they both enjoyed the solitude: just them and nature, spreading out before them in all its beauty. For all the trouble Izzy already had to endure today, these moments were almost worth it. They both enjoyed the peace and quiet when a familiar voice cut through the silence like a whip. Grall brought Izzy to a stop with the reins and turned her in the direction of the man calling. “Drex, what are you doing here?” Grall asked cheerfully, as if he were seeing a good old friend again. Izzy grumbled; her memories of meeting this goblin and his father Krom were not as positive as Grall’s; the meeting had also given him control over Izzy, which she had lost in the process. “We’re going for a little ride, would you like to join us?” Drex laughed loudly. “You’re still acting like your horse is your friend. You two are a strange team, but I see you’ve listened to our advice. That looks much better. You’re sitting much more securely in the saddle, I can see that she’s obeying you now. Well done, you have to show an animal who’s the boss.” Izzy wanted to go for his throat, but she had to stay in her role and her hands weren’t free to do so. Nevertheless, she put him on her list of naughty goblins. “Which way are you riding — or both of you, if you prefer that?” “No, just me, of course. Buttercup is just a horse,” Grall corrected himself, earning a snort from Izzy. “There are supposed to be some good ruins nearby. We—I—love that kind of stuff. Do you know anything about it?” “Further to the east there are some larger castle ruins. If that’s what you’re looking for, you’re welcome to come with me, that’s the direction I’m heading too.” They both nodded to each other, and Grall urged Izzy on so that she walked next to Drex’s horse. It was a terribly boring trip for Izzy — with Drex they walked much slower and to make matters worse she had to listen to the senseless chatter of the two goblins; thanks to the saddle she couldn’t even put her fingers in her ears. Although when she thought about it, she would have much preferred to wring their necks, after all they spent half the time talking about her and how best to tame her. It was once again a humiliating conversation, and Grall did little to make it easier for her. In fact, he seemed genuinely interested in the advice, even though he kept emphasizing that Izzy was already completely obedient. To prove it he dismounted, let her go a few meters ahead and called her over to him with a “Come here, good girl!” as one would with a dog. Izzy was about to give him a good kick, but the risk of falling out of character so deep in goblin land was too great. So she went to him and obediently let him stroke her head for her servility. Her eyes flashed angrily at him, but he just smiled back cheekily, as if it were all just a harmless game and not the complete humiliation of his best friend. Drex coughed loudly. “All this riding around is making me thirsty, we should reward ourselves for our efforts. There’s a good pub in the next village, I’ll treat you to a beer.” Izzy rolled her eyes. What had the two of them accomplished other than sitting on their butts in the saddles while their horses did all the work? “Gladly!” said Grall and gave Izzy another light kick so that she ran faster to the village. Drex did the same, and they both rode at a gallop to the inn. The village wasn’t big, but the inn was impressive. It towered over the other houses by a whole floor and stood in front of an open space where a row of ponygirls were tied to a long horse pole. Underneath was a long trough of water, and Izzy already knew that she wouldn’t get any beer today. To her great annoyance, Grall tied her to the pole without hesitation and ran into the inn with Drex, not even looking back. Stupid, she thought, he didn’t have to take the role play so seriously! This was supposed to be their ride together, she wasn’t his horse, so he could have fun on his own! But now she stood under the warm sun, still with the saddle on her back, and could do nothing but wait for her rider. Her time was meaningless, as was her opinion of the situation. She existed only to serve him — at least according to the goblins who went in and out of the inn. Her eyes fell on a sign next to the entrance: “Animals are not allowed in — ponygirls must stay outside!” She grumbled, especially because occasionally humans came out of the inn, who were probably trading with the goblins. That also explained why the inn was so big — it had been built for humans, too. Luckily, no one paid her any attention; for the humans too, she was probably just an animal waiting for its owner with the other ponygirls… Hours passed, and the sun was already sinking dangerously close to the horizon, when Izzy noticed something strange: A goblin dressed in a thick coat had positioned himself at the front of the long line of ponygirls and had stepped behind the first ponygirl. He was not very tall and from his position he could see right between the girl’s legs, which he did with devotion. Then he even reached between the ponygirl’s thighs and fiddled around there. The ponygirl didn’t seem to mind, but Izzy was disgusted. What a perverted greenling! Did he have nothing better to do than fondle poor helpless animals? After a short time, he seemed satisfied and went to the next ponygirl, where he repeated his game. Izzy was getting nervous — only half a dozen ponygirls left, and he would touch her. Drex’s horse also stamped nervously. Both looked longingly at the door of the inn and neighed loudly — but how likely was it that these two drunkards would come to their rescue right now? Izzy had no hope, but then the door swung open, and Drex pulled Grall behind him. Both were slightly drunk. Izzy grumbled angrily, but Grall didn’t seem to notice, he loosened the reins and simply jumped into the saddle with a “tack!” as if he had every right in the world to do so. Strictly speaking, that was true in this part of the world, but it still drove Izzy mad. She looked one last time at the strange goblin, who made preparations to run towards them, but Grall and Drex gave their ponies a kick and rode them away at a gallop. “Damn tax inspectors,” Drex grumbled, spitting on the ground. Izzy whinnied confused, but got no further explanation. “Do you think we can still make it to the ruins?” Grall asked uncertainly. His look revealed that he had completely lost track of time. “You can forget about that. It’s too late for your — or yours if you insist — ride back. You could sleep in the inn, but it’s a beautiful night and I wanted to set up camp nearby. Would you like to join me?” Grall nodded and followed his new friend. Izzy neighed discontentedly, but the two riders ignored that, too. The ride took them out into the wilderness, through a swamp into a picturesque grove, between whose trees a small hollow offered them protection from wind and weather. At any other time, Izzy would have felt very comfortable here, but with Drex at her side, she was constantly being observed and had to pretend this degrading life of a ponygirl. “A beautiful place, shall we stay here?” asked Grall as he tied Izzy to a tree. “Tie up her legs too, she walked enough for today.” Grall did as advised, and Izzy lost a little more of her freedom for the evening. Drex nodded in satisfaction. “This is one of my favourite places. Your ruins are four hours down the road, so you’ll get there in time tomorrow. Come, help me gather some firewood. It’s actually warm enough without it, but the flames will keep the wild animals away.” They both set off and gathered as much dry wood as they could find. The fire was quickly made, and they sat next to it, while their ponygirls had to stand tied to the edge of the hollow. It was the usual injustice that she had come to detest in goblins. Wasn’t it enough that they were abused as horses, why did they have to be denied any comfort? “Your ponygirl looks a little restless.” Grall nodded shyly, and Izzy also became a little nervous. She remembered the last time well and knew that she had to stay in character. He took her to the edge of the grove and with a loud “tack” ordered her to crouch down. Again he untied the strap between her legs and Izzy was smart enough to wait for his order. He grinned at her and to her annoyance he waited a whole minute before finally allowing her to let go with the command “Rhida Kess”. The whole thing was slowly becoming an unpleasant habit, especially since Grall did not look away, although this was not even required. He fastened the strap and tied Izzy to the tree again. “We can share my pony’s food, I always have something for emergencies,” offered Drex. “I don’t see anything on your saddle, that’s not good. You have to take care of your horse; that’s the price we pay for turning them into animals. Come on, let’s take their saddles off and get them ready for the night.” Grall nodded and wanted to take the saddle off Izzy, but Drex stopped him. “You still have a lot to learn. You must always tie your ponygirls hands together under the saddle! That’s the only way to be sure that you can safely take the saddle off in an emergency.” “Of course,” Grall said sheepishly, and quickly tied Izzy’s arms together before they both loosened the straps and put the saddles under a tree. Then they removed the bits and fed both ponies by hand. Izzy wanted to jump out of her skin: it was bad enough that she had eaten a treat from Oozol out of her hand, but now she was being fed, like… well, any other animal. But the worst thing was that the mixture of seeds, grains and cereals tasted horrible, and only her hunger prevented her from spitting it all out straight away. Only Grall seemed to be having a great time, he seemed to be enjoying feeding Izzy very much. “She’s starving!” he said and shoved another handful of food into her mouth. The food was immediately followed by the bit again, so Izzy had no time to vent her displeasure at him, as he deserved. “Have you slept outside with your horse yet?” Drex asked, laying out a large blanket on the ground. It was far too long for goblins, and Izzy thought they had good intentions for their horses, but as always, she was quickly proven wrong. “Many like to sleep on the ground — what goblin doesn’t like a bit of good earth under their head — but out here it’s safer if we stick with our horses. They’re very comfortable, too.” Izzy looked at him confused, but the goblin just winked at her, sensing that she had no idea what he had in mind. He laid down a second blanket, then led his pony over and gave her a clear command: “Grexipel!” He stared Izzy straight in the eyes. “That means lie down!” His horse lay down on the blanket without further ado or argument. That would have been a relief for Izzy at first, after all, she probably didn’t have to sleep standing up, but something in the ponygirls look told Izzy that the matter was not over. The girl blushed and avoided Izzy’s gaze as she lay on her back. Her hands supported her bottom while her breasts rested freely above. What happened next was a shock for Izzy; although not the first one that day: Drex climbed onto the girl’s stomach and laid his head on her breasts, which served as a pillow for him. It looked like a green raccoon that had fallen asleep on the girl. “They really are very comfortable. Come on, try it too!” Grall seemed a little unsure. “Isn’t that a bit… much?” “No, not at all. It connects rider and animal, and it also helps the horse to understand who is the master. You are her master, her owner, aren’t you? Doesn’t she have to do everything you ask?” Grall nodded silently. “Say it.” “I am her master.” “Louder. More!” “I am the master of my ponygirl. And she must do what I ask.” Drex grinned broadly. “Say it again, with all your fervour, and look at her while you do it.” New energy seemed to have surged through Grall. He rose to his full small size, swallowed loudly and said, “Buttercup, look at me! I am your master, you are my horse. You will do what I ask!” Izzy neighed embarrassedly. In this part of the world, he was right, and she had to obey whether she wanted to or not. Still, that was not what they had agreed on! He walked firmly to her and untied her reins from the tree, then led her to the ceiling without looking back — she could hardly follow with her bandaged legs — and said, “Grexipel!” Izzy danced around and snorted. He was not her master, and she certainly did not want to be a bed for Grall, but she was also afraid of Drex. If he could manipulate Grall like that, what else could he do? She sighed and knelt down next to the blanket, then turned over on the floor. It took a moment to find a comfortable place for her arms and hands, but as soon as she lay still, she felt Grall’s weight on her stomach. As before, he was not heavy, but it was not his mass that was weighing on her, it was the insult of using her like that. But Grall seemed to be in heaven. He laid his head on her breast and hummed contentedly. “This is fantastic! Why doesn’t everyone sleep like this?” “Fear, I think,” said Drex. “My ponygirl was brought up hard, I can trust her. You seem to have a special bond with your horse anyway. Others wouldn’t dare do that, they’re afraid of their ponygirls. But there’s nothing like a night on your horse, am I right?” “Can horses sleep like that?” “Your Buttercup will get used to it. The first night is always hard, but that is the price they have to pay for our luxury. That is their role in life. Don’t worry, she will soon be happy to serve you. You have to practice it with her regularly. Ride out overnight more often and it will become normal for you.” Izzy felt Grall nod in agreement, and she wanted to hit him over the head with a frying pan for that. He shouldn’t think that there would be a repeat of this nonsense! If it weren’t for Drex, he would be lying under her now, then he could see how comfortable it is… The two goblins had turned to each other and talked for half the night, while Izzy and Drex Pony occasionally looked embarrassedly into each other’s eyes. They had no other choice, since they were not only the horses of these two greenies for the night, but also their bed and pillow. What a shame, thought Izzy, as she felt his ears and hands on her breasts. But there was another feeling, besides shame and anger. Was it her motherly feelings because she had such a small and weak creature at her breast? She thought about it for a long time, as she felt his body on hers, rising and falling with each of her breaths. She had just fallen asleep when she turned to the side out of habit and threw Grall out of his bed. He gave her a few light slaps on the bottom to remind her of her role, then whispered in her ear: “This is all just a game. Don’t be afraid. You are my best friend.” But he still lay down on her stomach, pressed her breasts together to form a comfortable pillow, and fell asleep contentedly, while Izzy stayed awake all night, staring at the stars. A ponygirls life was strange. A very private tax The morning came too early for Izzy; she had hardly slept and her back ached while Grall snoozed comfortably on her breast. Still, she tried to lie as still as possible to let her little friend sleep. She knew how absurd this was, but something inside her couldn’t bring herself to wake him, despite the absurdity of the situation. Still, she knew she would need to find a way to make him understand that she would never do this again. After everyone was finally awake, Izzy and her fellow sufferer were led into the trees, where they found relief again, commanded by “Rhida Kess”. To Izzy’s own irritation, she even waited for the order without being asked. Then they were saddled, and the ride started without much announcement towards the ruins. For the first few hours she had to listen to the chatter of the two goblins again, but then they went their separate ways and Grall and Izzy were alone once more, although he still didn’t take the horse bit out of her mouth. She remained an animal on this journey, but she knew that beforehand. At least the ruins were a reward for the effort: Grall rode her with wide eyes through dilapidated archways, across a large old square and admired a collapsed tower that lay shattered on the ground like a fallen stone dragon. Only when he tied her to a tree with the reins without saying a word and went to explore a cellar himself did the fun stop for Izzy. She was seething with anger again, but at least he apologized when he returned. “I’m sorry, but we’re still in goblin country. We have to keep up appearances.” This seemed like a cheap excuse to her, after all, there was no one around, but she had no choice. — They reached Oozol’s farm unseen in the early evening. It was already dark, but there was still some activity, as not all the horses had been prepared for the night. Grall led Izzy to the large square and had her kneel next to Pexo. “Please take care of her.” Pexo stroked her side and nodded. “I’ll take her to be washed right away.” Grall yawned and turned to Izzy: “That was a nice ride, but now I’m tired. I’m going to bed, goodnight!” He passed her reins to Pexo and left the astonished Izzy behind. This was not how she had imagined it. Sure, she had already been washed in the yard, but at least then it was Grall who had scrubbed the dirt from her skin. But whatever the case, she had no choice and had to follow Pexo to the washing station. Unfortunately for her, a few other ponygirls were already lined up there, and she was unceremoniously tied to a fence. The ponygirls eyed her with interest until it was each of their turn. It was a rapid process that was obviously well practiced. It was basically the same as with Grall and Oozol, only much faster, and no one was embarrassed when a hand wandered between their legs. They were only horses, Izzy thought sarcastically; even when she included herself in the thoughts. Finally, it was her turn. First her pony boots were taken off and her legs were bandaged again, then the saddle was untied, but her hands were still tied. She was given the collar and leash again and tied to the post. When the horse bit was removed, Izzy said, “thank you” quietly, but received a slap on the bottom and a stern shake of the head from Pexo. “If you do that again, I’ll have to report you. Talking ponies get their mouths washed out with soap.” “I’m sorry,” Izzy whispered and immediately bit her tongue, but Pexo just rolled his eyes. Before she could react, he shoved a whole bar of soap into her mouth; the taste was disgusting, and Izzy looked pleadingly at Pexo, who took his time taking the soap out of her mouth. “A talking ponygirl… really! Are you good now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Izzy nodded silently. She was too tired to argue with him, and she could really use a good wash right now; two days of dirt still clung to her. She noticed that all her pony clothes had been put to the side, while the other horses’ stuff was in a pile. She stood naked in the yard again, and Pexo started his work. The warm water felt wonderful, even though she would have preferred to soap herself. First, he washed her hair and head, his claws massaging her scalp pleasantly. He hadn’t done that with the other horses, Izzy thought, but did nothing to stop him. Then he turned to her upper body and cleaned her shoulder and then her arms. “Who’s a sweet horse? You’re a sweet horse!” he said, soaping her breasts. Izzy was very embarrassed, of course, but at the same time, Pexo was so playful that she couldn’t blame him. And his hands felt wonderful. “What does a happy ponygirl do?” he asked, and after Izzy giggled and neighed for him, he washed her between her legs, which left her speechless for a moment. “You like that, am I right? You all like that, you naughty things.” He winked and took his time. Since Izzy was the last horse in line, nothing seemed to rush him, and she certainly wasn’t going to interrupt him. Just when she thought she was hotter than boiling water, he switched his work to her legs, much to her dissatisfaction. “Don’t look like that, that’s what the stallions are for. I’m just here to clean you up after the ride.” He smacked Izzy on the bottom, and she neighed again, blushing. This time he hadn’t asked for it, but she had just slipped into her role as ponygirl; it felt completely natural, which unsettled her more than anything else. Despite everything, this wasn’t normal, she thought, and made a firm resolution to speak to Grall tomorrow. He needed to be more precise with his orders to the grooms. She looked at his house and noticed that the light in his room was off. Was he still sitting in the living room with his father? After she had been washed, Pexo led her not to the familiar troughs, but behind the stable into a small fenced-in paddock where the other horses were already standing. He closed the gate behind her and left her alone. Izzy looked around in surprise, but most of the ponygirls paid her no further attention; they were busy eating and drinking at the long troughs. Izzy’s stomach was rumbling too, but it wasn’t just the uneasy feeling of having slipped even deeper into the world of ponygirls — no, she was also simply hungry! Gritting her teeth, she trotted forward in small steps and searched for a free spot where she could find a place by the water or food. In front of her, she saw only a row of naked, broad butts, wiggling towards her. She had never cared for other women, but even she blushed with a warm feeling in her tummy at the sight of this obvious femininity. Before she could react, she felt a violent blow from the side and landed in the dirt. Sunshine stood above her and smiled evilly down at her. Izzy hissed, but none of the ponygirls dared to say anything. Just because they didn’t have a horse’s bit in their mouths didn’t mean they were allowed to speak, Izzy knew that. They glared at each other challengingly. Sunshine wanted to kick her in the stomach, but Izzy skilfully turned on the ground and kicked her legs out from under her. With a loud howl, Sunshine also flew into the dirt. “Stop that,” ordered Pexo. He came into the paddock, helped them both to their feet, and slapped their bare bottoms so hard that his hand left a clear mark. Sunshine growled angrily but retreated to the other corner of the paddock and left Izzy alone for now. Izzy, on the other hand, whimpered at being hit; she didn’t deserve that! To her consolation, she soon found a place at the water trough between two other ponygirls. She squeezed in between them, as she had seen others do, and drank as well as she could. It was strange to stand so close together, especially when everyone had their hands and legs tied while they were bent over drinking from a trough. This was not how Izzy had imagined her holiday. Shortly afterwards, she got a place at the feeding trough and ate as much as she could. The stuff still tasted horrible, but hunger drove it down. After eating, all the ponygirls — including Izzy, of course — waited for the grooms. To her surprise, most of the ponygirls were very nice. They all gathered in a corner and warmed each other up. Izzy didn’t want to join in at first, but one of the ponygirls gave her a few playful nudges until Izzy finally found herself almost in the middle of the pile. It was a strange feeling of security and connection that she hadn’t expected. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth and the quiet sound of the horses breathing around her, which she quietly joined in. Finally, Pexo brought one pony girl after another out of the paddock until Izzy was alone. It was lonely without the other horses, but at least she could lie down in what she hoped would be a comfortable bed and pull the blanket over her head. That was all she needed today to be happy. Grall must have given a groom the task of converting a stable into a room for her yesterday so that she didn’t have to sleep on the floor again — he was often very stubborn, but not stupid. After a few minutes, Pexo came back, put a night bit in her mouth and led her out of the paddock on the leash. She looked around for her things and didn’t pay any attention to where she was being led. “You’ll have some peace and quiet soon, you deserve it. But don’t talk any more, okay?” Pexo took the leash and collar off her and pushed her backwards inside. Izzy looked around for her clothes, but all she could find was an empty stable in front of her. Behind her, she heard the stable door slam shut. She looked over her shoulder and sighed deeply. How could she be so stupid… Grall hadn’t taken care of anything, and to the grooms she was just his mare who belonged in the stable. The stable only offered some straw, but even the blanket was gone — not even the most basic comfort was allowed for the animals on the farm, she thought angrily. It was all Grall’s fault; he hadn’t told the grooms what to do clearly enough, she thought. Now she was standing naked in a horse stable, her arms and legs tied and a night horse bit in her mouth, like any other horse. No, she wasn’t a horse… she wasn’t an animal after all! That was what she told herself as she walked slowly through her stable. The whole floor was covered with straw; otherwise there was nothing. No chair, no bed, no food or drink. It was simply a stable for a horse — and tonight she was one, there was no doubt about that. She ran to the door, the upper half of which was still open. She looked up at the moonless sky and then to Grall’s window. There was still no light there; or, as Izzy now suspected, no light any more. Grall had probably gone straight to his bed and was now fast asleep while she waited here in the stable. She looked at the stars for a while, then Pexo came and closed the upper half of the door in all the stables, leaving Izzy in the pitch-black stable. To make matters worse, while she had been allowed to pee on the ride — of course, only after Grall had given her permission with Rhida Kess — but there was still something that needed to be done. Izzy whined in discontent, but she had no choice. She crouched in a corner by the door and did what nature demanded. She pushed as much straw on it as possible and trotted miserably to the farthest corner and fell asleep. — The night was short for Izzy. She never managed to sleep for more than an hour, then she woke up from one of her strange dreams and realized that it was all true. To make matters worse, her back still hurt from the previous night, and the stable didn’t make it any better. She was used to laying her head on a pillow, or at least using her hands, but that was out of the question here. It was the third unusual night in a row, and she was beginning to wonder when she would finally see her bed again. In the morning, she was sore and terribly tired, and wondered if all the ponygirls in the stables felt the same way. She brushed the thought aside; she wasn’t a ponygirl, and a night in the stables wouldn’t change that. But she still felt a little more sorry for the women and girls who had to endure this every day. Why didn’t they at least give them a bed, what difference would that make to their usefulness as horses? Or was it — as Oozol and Drex had said — really just about the ponygirls recognizing and accepting their place? Was this all a game for the goblins? To her relief, the first timid rays of sunlight of the new day broke through the boards of the stable, and she was sure that Grall would come and get her soon. She waited anxiously and jumped up at every noise in front of the stable, but Grall did not come. The top door to her stable opened and Gribat — who had taught Grall Rhida Kess — looked in on her, probably to check if she had slept well. He saw what she had been doing in the corner and shook his head. “You’re not house-trained yet, Buttercup. We thought you had learned that as a human girl.” Izzy blushed and lowered her gaze as the groom came with a shovel and removed the dirt, only to fill the spot with new straw. “You have to do that on the rides. We’ll talk to your rider, Grall really is a little fresh behind the ears.” Izzy whinnied in agreement; he really was! While the other horses were brought out of their stables one by one, Izzy stayed behind and waited. The sun was already quite high in the sky when she finally heard Grall’s voice. “Go get Buttercup and get her ready for a ride.” She looked out of the stable and saw him at his window. That idiot must have overslept! All that effort and her night in the stable had been for nothing! Izzy was seething with rage, but there was no point in getting angry about it, there was nothing she could do about it now. She wrote it off as an unwanted experience that had revealed a few more sides of a ponygirls life to her. Izzy was quickly fetched from her stable and tied to a post with a collar and a leash, while the other ponygirls were already doing their exercises behind her. While Izzy waited bored, Gribat led the stallion Titan across the yard, who blatantly stared at Izzy’s bottom. Izzy blushed slightly, but even though she didn’t quite know why, she still wiggled her bare bottom for him. The stallion neighed happily and Izzy playfully stuck her tongue out at him. Pexo brought her things from the barn and patted her bottom. “You must be in heat,” he said, giggling, but Izzy just winked. A little fun was allowed, right? He saddled her quickly; the blinkers went back on her bridle but remained open. Just as she was done, Grall came out of the house. He had freshly washed and was smiling sheepishly at her. “I’m sorry, I overslept. Now we’re even late.” Izzy stamped her hooves angrily, but Grall just untied her reins from the fence, said “tack” loudly, and climbed into the saddle without further apology. “Did everything go well last night?” he asked Pexo. “She was very well-behaved and didn’t cause us any trouble. We were worried at first whether she would eat with the other animals, but it went completely smoothly. I’ve never seen a new pony that fits in so well with the group. She’s a natural. She didn’t cause any trouble in the stable, either.” Grall looked very pleased, while Izzy wanted to crawl into a hole with every further word. Now she was not only an animal to these goblins, but a particularly tame one at that. But of course, most girls would probably resist this treatment more, but she just played along, like the dumbest of all animals… she grumbled. “Excellent,” said Grall and patted Izzy on the bottom from the saddle. So it was no accident. Grall, you’re an idiot, thought Izzy. “However, she had a fight with Sunshine. The mare must have attacked her.” Saxea appeared out of nowhere. “What happened to Sunshine? Why isn’t she in her stable?” “She attacked Izzy,” the groom explained. Saxea shook her head vigorously. “It was definitely not intentional. Dad gave her to me because Grall didn’t want her. She is a sweet horse. Please, Grall, don’t tell Dad, or she’ll get into trouble.” “Our father must decide that”, Grall growled. “Pexo, tell him later about it, he will know what to do.” Izzy whinnied in agreement, but Saxea ran away howling. From a distance, Oozol beckoned them over. “You didn’t tell me about your trip. You were gone a whole day longer, what happened?” Grall told them about the ride and how they met Drex but omitted the inn and his night with Izzy. “That was all, doesn’t sound as exciting as I expected. Is there nothing more to report?” Izzy stamped loudly and snorted. “Ah, it seems to me that there is something after all.” Izzy leaned forward and Oozol took the bit out of her mouth under Grall’s worried gaze. He formed a few words soundlessly with his lips, but Izzy ignored it. He had let her down that night, what did she care about what he wanted? Wasn’t it enough that he was allowed to ride her? “Grall forgot a few things.” She emphasized the word “forgot”. “You didn’t tell your father you slept on me!” she snapped, but Oozol didn’t seem as surprised — or disgusted — as Izzy had hoped. “You used my breasts as a pillow! That wasn’t agreed upon, you can’t just get away with whatever you want!” Oozol jumped up and took the dangling reins, even though the bit was no longer in Izzy’s mouth. “Calm you down, Buttercup. That must have been a bit uncomfortable for you, but it’s quite popular with some goblins. I slept on many ponygirls like that when I was young. It’s good that he got his way; it’s the right way for both of you to sleep outdoors, I’m sure of that. It strengthens the bond between rider and horse.” “But you goblins love sleeping on the ground! Besides, I’m not a bed!” “Your beds are dead places for us goblins, so we prefer the earth — it’s full of life and nature; just like a ponygirl. And I’m sure you were very comfortable.” He slapped Izzy’s breasts with both hands, making her freeze in shock. “It wasn’t comfortable for me!” “That’s not necessary; you were a ponygirl there and had to do your duty. There were no other problems?” “No, that was all,” Grall lied quickly before Izzy could say anything. He quickly tried to put the horse bit back in her mouth, but Izzy shook herself. “Grall was in a pub and got drunk! And some lecher groped the ponygirls between their legs!” Oozol frowned. “What kind of man was that, and what exactly was he looking at?” Grall desperately fiddled with the bit, but Izzy clenched her teeth. “It was really nothing. Forget Buttercup, Drex and I didn’t see anything.” “He said something about taxes,” Izzy squeaked through her teeth. Oozol almost turned pale. “You fool, you should have stayed away from the villages! You only wanted to look at ruins, not have fun in inns!” Izzy nodded and stamped her feet in agreement, for a moment, she had completely forgotten that she could talk. But with the next words, all the colour slowly drained from her face. “Of course, the tax collectors check ponies wherever there are a lot of them. Haven’t you been paying attention?” He pulled Grall out of the saddle and hit him hard on the back of the head, almost made him cry. “Tax collector? But Izzy isn’t a real ponygirl, we don’t have to pay taxes for her!” “I don’t know who you inherited that from, but neither your mother nor I are that stupid. Look at Buttercup — even she understood it! You must pay taxes on every pony; at least if you find them outside a farm. The chances of being stopped on the street are practically zero, but in a village it’s different. Izzy doesn’t wear a tax tag! The fake registration number hardly bothers anyone, but tax evasion is a serious crime. Izzy would probably have been confiscated as punishment and auctioned off to settle the damages. What were you thinking?” He hit his son over the head again, and Izzy gave him a light kick on the shin. “You mean I would have really been sold?” Izzy asked, trembling. “Certainly, tax fraud is never taken lightly.” Grall seemed even smaller than usual. “We stay away from the villages, is that enough?” Oozol shook his head. “You’ve shown that I can’t trust you. No, we need a better solution. Luckily for you, this is a ponygirl farm, so we have everything we need to properly tax a ponygirl.” “Taxes, for me?” Izzy squeaked. “If you’re going to be a ponygirl, this is a must. Are you ready for this?” Izzy danced nervously back and forth. The thought of someone paying for her made her feel very uncomfortable. There was something official about it, as if Grall and she were suddenly getting serious. Oozol tapped his feet impatiently. “Will it take long?” “Not at all, you’ll be gone in a few minutes, and you probably won’t even notice much. The timing couldn’t be better, we’ve just taxed another ponygirl.” Izzy nodded uncertainly. “If it really isn’t much work…” Her voice broke as she said the words; it wasn’t what she wanted at all, but Oozol had made the danger clear to her. Oozol seemed satisfied. “Follow me.” He walked ahead with firm steps. Grall climbed into Izzy’s saddle and rode behind; he would never have been able to keep up on foot with his broken leg, but Izzy also that riding her as his ponygirl was now his preferred mode of transportation anyway. They walked around the stables and went to a barn further back that Izzy didn’t know yet. The room was small and dark, with only a frame in the middle. Grall dismounted and led her inside. “It’s just a small thing. Buttercup, please lean over the frame. It’ll be quick, I promise.” Izzy looked uncertainly at the metal monster. “Now don’t be like that, we won’t rip your head off, it’ll be quick, I promise, you can get going straight away.” Izzy swallowed and lay down on the frame. With quick moves, she was tied up, her legs spread. Now she felt uneasy, she tried to turn her head, but Oozol closed her blinders. “What’s going on?” she asked nervously, but Oozol ignored her. “Watch carefully, my son. You will have to do it yourself with the other horses one day.” “Tell me what you’re doing!” Izzy begged, but Oozol continued talking only to his son. “You have to put the ring in these pliers. See? The opening must face forward. Now you have to aim carefully. Do it quickly so that the animal doesn’t get nervous.” Izzy felt the strap between her legs being undone, then felt his hands on her privates, and was almost scared to death. But that wasn’t the worst thing that was about to happen. She felt something sharp on her outer lips and then an intense sensation, as if she was being pierced. She yelped loudly, but the two goblins didn’t seem surprised. “That’s it. It will be sore and painful for a few days, but with some ointment, it will be fine. Don’t worry, you can still go riding.” She felt Oozol applying something to her sensitive intimate area but couldn’t see it because of the blinders. “You monsters, what are you doing to me?” “Calm down, it’ll be over soon. You agreed to it!” said Oozol, and then ignored her again. Instead, he explained to his son: “The tax tag is attached to the ring and then the end is melted. You can only do that once, thereafter, it’s used up. The tags must stay on the horse, or you’ll have to keep paying for a new tag!” Oozol called out to another goblin, but Izzy couldn’t see him. Instead, she heard the suspicious rustling of a large cloak, but the goblin’s voice was unfamiliar to her. “This is Jedol, he is the local tax collector and responsible for the tax tags,” Oozol explained to his son — after all, Izzy only had to wear the tag, not understand it. “You can recognize the tax collectors by their cloaks, so pay close attention!” “I see, another horse. Your business seems to be going well, Oozol. That makes an old collector like me happy. I have one last token left for this month somewhere.” She heard the goblin rummaging in his pockets, then felt him fiddling with her new ring. His grip was rough, and his claws scratched her sensitive spot, then it got uncomfortably warm for a moment. He fumbled around with her a little more, it seemed to be common practice for collectors to use their work for their personal passions. Izzy wiggled her butt restlessly, but the goblin almost seemed to enjoy it. He giggled and only left her alone after a few more grips. “That’s it, the tag is perfect. Another horse finished.” “I’m not a horse!” Izzy cursed, shaking with anger. Jedol laughed. “I don’t really care. If I could, I would raise taxes on all women. Remember that you must not break the seal if the tag is to remain valid. See you, hopefully with valid tax tags on your horses!” “Disgusting man,” said Grall after Jedol had left. He stroked Izzy’s bottom to calm her down. “Are they all like that?” “Most of them. You probably don’t become a tax collector if you have a soul.” “How long is the tag valid?” asked Grall. “The tag has a starting month, and from that month it is valid for 12 months. That means we have paid Buttercup’s taxes for a year. Or rather, you will pay for them!” “Me?” stammered Grall. “Why me?” “Because she’s your horse!” Izzy snorted. “I’m nobody’s horse!” Oozol laughed. “Those are big words for someone who wears a saddle and is tied over a frame with a tax tag dangling between her legs.” He flicked the tag lightly, which made a metallic sound. “That doesn’t count, you tricked me!” “That’s nonsense, Buttercup. I asked you myself and you said yes.” Izzy was fuming. “But you didn’t tell me that you were going to pierce me down there with a ring!” “You could have asked any time. How was I supposed to know that you hadn’t noticed it with the other ponygirls? Besides, it was more than I do with other ponygirls. They aren’t asked at all,” said Grall’s father firmly. “I told you clearly and unambiguously: If you’re out and about as a ponygirl, I’ll treat you like one. If you were a girl, I wouldn’t have done that. But you’re ridden like a ponygirl, so you’ll be taxed like a ponygirl. The end.” Izzy was silent out of shame. What could she say? “How much does it cost?” asks Grall. “The tax tag or Buttercup?” his father joked, continuing to play with the tax tag with his fingers. “The tax tag costs 1,000 thalers a year. Looks like you’ll have to use your savings.” Grall swallowed loudly. “That much? I didn’t expect that.” “It was your own fault. Sunshine is already taxed. But you wanted Buttercup, now pay for her. Hopefully, you don’t end up paying for a whole ponygirl and only get her for a few days.” “Or ever again,” grumbled Izzy, whose most private part was still hurting despite the ointment. How humiliating! The goblins loosened her bonds and Izzy stood up. There was an entirely new feeling between her legs. The ring and the metal tag felt strangely foreign and cold, like something that didn’t really belong there. But with the blinders closed she couldn’t see anything, and she suspected that this was intentional — the two of them must have sensed her bad mood and preferred not to be seen. They were clever, Izzy had to give them that. Grall led her out, but Izzy was still a little in shock. It wasn’t just the utter humiliation of Oozol having provided her with a ring between her legs — without properly explaining it to her first! — no, it was the realization that Grall, of all people, had to pay for her. Like a commodity, a thing. An object. Something he could buy. It was for the tax, and not for her directly, but it still affected her. Didn’t that change everything? Did he now have a real claim on her? She shuddered at the thought. Whatever had happened to the fun rides that had started all this? In any case, swimming was now completely off the table, there was no doubt about that. Izzy wanted to say something, but Grall pushed the horse bit into her mouth and opened the blinders. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Just a small sting and now you’re safe,” Grall said to calm her down, but Izzy just snorted. She wanted to give up everything, but for now, she was happy just to get off the farm. She couldn’t stay here any longer. If that meant accepting Grall as her rider, then so be it. “Grall, you can work off your debts right away, or I’ll have to auction Buttercup off in the end,” Oozol suggested, laughing, but Izzy didn’t find that funny at all. “Well, since Buttercup has a tax tag, you can run an errand for me at the blacksmith. Take this order to Malsator and then deliver the things to me. You can do whatever you want for the rest of the day.” Grall told him about the problem with Sunshine. “I don’t like hearing that. Is that true, Buttercup?” Izzy nodded. “With other ponygirls, we would just give them a warning, unless Buttercup wants Sunshine to be punished.” Maybe it was the night in the stable that had ruined her mood, or the throbbing pain between her legs that she desperately needed a scapegoat for, but Izzy nodded vigorously. Or was she jealous after all? Izzy shook the thought aside. “Really?” Izzy stamped her hooves. Sunshine had attacked her for no reason, a little punishment wasn’t too much to ask, was it? How bad could it be? “Okay, let’s do it then. No one is allowed to annoy our Buttercup here, am I right,” he said in a voice usually only used for children, stroking Izzy’s flank. “Come on. Let’s make some money. You cost me a lot today. Animals are awfully expensive,” Grall joked, or at least Izzy hoped it was a joke, even though it wasn’t funny at all. Grall gave Izzy a little kick and drove her back down from the yard. Slowly it became a habit and Izzy realized how much she had lost control of her life — which was also reminded by the pain between her thighs with every step and the cold metallic feeling that would probably accompany her for the next few weeks. A carriage ride Grall led them onto one of the main roads in the area, and Izzy trembled — nowhere except right in the village could the danger of being seen by someone be greater than here. But on this morning the road was empty, no one was to be seen until the horizon, only the clop-clop of her hooves accompanied them on their journey. For Izzy, however, this was little consolation; the experiences of the morning were still stirring her up too much. The cold metal of the tax tag rubbed against her thigh and reminded her with every step that something important had changed. She hadn’t missed the change in Grall either, he was taking her more and more for granted as a ponygirl, and this ride was a good example. She had only got involved in this whole thing so that she could explore the forests and ruins together with him, but now she was simply his horse, and even had to go for a ride with him so that he could pay for her — and no one had asked her if she even wanted that. But then, you didn’t ask a horse where it wanted to be ridden, did you? She snorted discontentedly. To make matters worse, she’d been a ponygirl for days, and it didn’t look like that was going to change any time soon. If she wasn’t careful, he would surely put her in the stable every day just so she would be available when he needed her. She was happy to help her friend, but this was beyond the pale! A small kick snapped her out of her thoughts. “You’re slowing down, Buttercup. We’ll never get there like this.” He put her into a fast trot. She grumbled. After half an hour, it dawned on Izzy that something was different from the last few rides. Her poor sense of direction had struck again, and it was only the strong clues that put her on the right track: there were no goblins or ponygirls to be seen anywhere, and the houses were bigger than usual … they were human houses, and they were on their way to a human town! She neighed unhappily. “What’s going on?” asked Grall, confused. He followed her gaze and understood. “Malsator is a human blacksmith, I thought you knew that. He’s one of the few people who make things for ponygirls. One of the best in his field. You don’t have to worry; he works and lives in Udamos, it’s such a big town you won’t stand out.” Izzy wasn’t thrilled. While it wasn’t their first ride into the human world, it was the first time she would be seen by other humans nearly naked with a tax tag and in full ponygirl gear, with a rider on her back guiding her with her reins. It was humiliating. With the goblins it was part of everyday life, but with humans she would be considered a disgrace. How could he ask her to go there as a ponygirl? When exactly had the alternatives been swept off the table? She would have carried him in her arms a hundred times rather than humiliate herself like that! But what choice did she have? If she resisted the reins, she would probably have to walk back alone, and she didn’t have any spare clothes — without a saddle she would be even more naked than she already was now. Besides, Grall wouldn’t be able to make the journey without her. And despite the terrible insolence of the morning — again she felt the cold metal between her legs — he was still her friend, and she would rather not abandon him without a conversation. “I know what you’re thinking, but if I put something on you, people will look at you even more. But if you’re a normal ponygirl, you won’t stand out at all. Who pays attention to the horses that someone rides through the streets? You must be inconspicuous, and as a ponygirl you must be almost naked. Nobody will recognise you; nobody even knows you there. The town is so big that most people don’t even know their neighbours. Stay a ponygirl and you’re as good as invisible.” She grumbled, but he was probably right. Only if she blended in would she be overlooked. And it certainly wouldn’t be that different from the goblins; hardly anyone noticed her there either. And she was a little curious about the city; she had only known small villages before, but real cities were new to her. Two hours later, the impressive city wall of Udamos emerged from between the trees. Izzy stared open-mouthed — which was well filled by the bit — at the marvel that grew into the sky before them on the horizon. It was almost as high as the houses behind it and was only interrupted by a mighty gate that was currently raised. Carts and pedestrians gathered in front of it and waited for the gatekeepers to let them into the city one by one. It was a slow process, everything was inspected and, where possible, taxes were collected for entry. It was the usual bustle of a trading town and Izzy was about to become a part of it — but hopefully only as a visitor and not as a commodity, she thought and shuddered. They lined up at the end of the row under the suspicious gaze of the people, and to Izzy’s horror, she was the only ponygirl for miles around. All around her were men and women in modest and loose clothing that hid everything but their hands and faces under colourless and thick wool. She, on the other hand, showed almost everything that nature had given her, and it was obvious that she would not make any friends in this town this way; only a few of the men allowed themselves a few furtive glances. The queue made slow progress, but after almost half an hour it was finally their turn. A guard scrutinised them both critically before raising his voice: “Are you planning to sell this animal here, or are you taking it out of the city again?” Grall shrugged. “She’s my mount, I’m taking her back with me.” “Good, then you’ll have to pay a deposit for her. An animal of her quality costs…” he thought for a moment, “100 thalers.” Izzy raised an eyebrow; that was more than her father and she spent on food in a month, and it was only the deposit! Grall gulped too, but handed the money to the man, who in return slapped a stamp hard on Izzy’s bum, leaving a deposit number on her bottom. “Come back with the animal, and I’ll give you your money back. I see you taxed her properly.” To Izzy’s horror, he reached between her legs and held the tax tag. “Not that we care about that here, the taxes are for the goblins. But we don’t want any trouble with them. Don’t bring any horse or livestock into town that doesn’t have a valid tax tag.” Grall was about to urge Izzy on when the man raised his hand once more. “But remember, this is a clean town. If your pet goes anywhere, you’ll clean it up and pay a fine!” Izzy turned bright red, who did this man think she was? Oh yeah, a ponygirl… “And stay on this side of the river. The town is divided in two. Because you goblins are disturbing the real animals, you can’t cross the bridge!” At the word “real” he looked at Izzy patronisingly, which was the first time he’d ever looked her in the eyes. Even for humans in this form, she was just an animal that didn’t need to be talked to. Grall nodded and drove Izzy through the gate. The city was crowded, noisy and filthy — even if the guard had said otherwise. Izzy wasn’t used to this crowdedness, on all sides the houses rose two or three storeys into the sky and hid the sun better than the canopies of the trees in the forest. It was an impressive atmosphere, full of life and disorder that Izzy had never seen before. There was no quiet corner anywhere, and every house had a shop selling something different. There were cups, vegetables, chairs, weapons, books, and anything else a girl — or horse — could imagine. But although there were a few goblins to be seen here, Izzy remained the only ponygirl; not even a cart was pulled by one, instead the humans did it themselves. And contrary to what Grall had claimed, she was the centre of attention. People turned to look at her and whispered behind their backs. It was humiliating and one of the worst things Izzy had experienced in her short career as a ponygirl. The children in particular pointed at her and many laughed, the boys were especially cruel, while the girls stared at her almost angrily, like a traitor to her own kind. Only a little girl with a torn dress looked at them with interest. “Why are you riding that woman?” she asked in a squeaky voice that cracked with every word. “Was she bad?” Grall laughed. “No, she’s my horse. Have you never seen a ponygirl before?” “Yes, lots of them!” The girl obviously lied because she was still staring at Izzy full of curiosity. “Can I ride her, too?” Izzy’s eyes widened, but Grall held her head straight with the reins. The blinkers made it difficult for her to see the girl, but she felt the tug on both reins and heard the loud “Tack!”, which made her bend her knees as if of her own accord. She trembled nervously as Grall climbed out of the saddle and looked around for the girl’s mother or father, but no one seemed to be interested in the child. “Get in the saddle. Buttercup is very tame, you don’t need to be afraid,” Grall said cheerfully, seemingly ignoring the onlookers who were watching in disgust. But nobody stopped the child from climbing into Izzy’s saddle — which would have been fine for Izzy. What had been the plan — to blend into the crowd and not attract attention? Grall didn’t seem to remember, but he took Izzy’s reins and led her through the streets with the laughing child on her back. “Faster little horse. Giddy up, giddy up!” the girl cried loudly, kicking Izzy painfully in the side again and again. It was bad enough to have a goblin on her back, but in a strange way it was even more humiliating to be ridden by a human, even if it was a child. For goblins, there was no other choice, but this child was just using her for her entertainment. Izzy neighed in displeasure, but that only seemed to entertain the girl even more. “Good horse, good horse!” After a few minutes, Grall stopped Izzy outside a small shop on the main road. “End of the line, everyone dismounts, please,” he shouted and, to Izzys relief, helped the girl out of the saddle. At least that horror was over. “Mira, what are you doing here?” asked an exhausted woman who grabbed the girl. “I rode the horse!” said Mira proudly, but her mother was horrified. “You touched that… THING…? That’s terrible! Come on, let’s go!” Grall looked after her, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess you can’t please some people.” To her horror, he tied Izzy to a low fence in front of the shop and, to her surprise, also tied her legs. She looked at him questioningly, but he just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s the law here. I’m sure it won’t take long. Wait here for me and don’t go anywhere.” She neighed in shock. Grall patted her on the bum — which caused some laughter among the onlookers — and disappeared into the shop. A small crowd had gathered around her, and Izzy suddenly felt terribly alone and vulnerable. She stood bent over, realising how much she was revealing, and hurriedly knelt on the cold floor. The people around her kept their distance, but she sensed that this would not last if Grall did not return soon. When he was still not back after 10 minutes, a child — a boy of probably 10 — was the first to dare to come forward. “Get away from there!” shouted his mum, but like most boys, he didn’t listen. He hopped over to Izzy and poked her lightly in the side, then he darted back behind his mum and giggled. Soon other children followed him, and it became a test of courage to touch Izzy. At first, it was any place, but soon the children increased the risk and the places became more dangerous — sometimes it was her head, then her hands, and soon intimate places like her breasts or as close between her legs as they dared. Izzy tried to fend them off, but they were coming from all directions at once, and without her hands there wasn’t much she could do. A watchman stopped the game. “Stop it now! We don’t tolerate that kind of trouble here.” To Izzy’s surprise, he gave her a stern look as if it was her fault. “Any more nonsense like that and you’ll be fined!” Izzy looked at him with wide eyes, but the guard simply left her standing there. Thereafter, Izzy had a few minutes of peace, but the sun — which had risen above the roofs of the houses — was now burning mercilessly down on her. There was no shade and no protection, neither from the sun nor from the eyes of passers-by; even though the children were now gone, her ordeal did not end there. She was looking longingly towards the shop when she felt a hand on her bottom. Before she could turn around, the man had already run off. She growled after him, but another hand brushed across her chest, then another across her bottom. They came in quick succession, and she barely got to see the culprits. The men walked just past her, forming an impenetrable wall that hid her from the view of others. The utter helplessness and meanness almost drove Izzy mad! It was dreadful and absolutely humiliating. It took Grall’s loud shout to scare the men away like a flock of pigeons. “Get away, or I’ll bite your legs, you filthy scum!” Grall hissed at the men; Izzy had never seen him so angry. A woman stood to the side with her arms by her side. “That’s what happens to someone like that. Take her away and don’t come back,” she babbled, spitting on the ground. Her eyes revealed that she also thought the whole thing was Izzy’s fault. “Man-stealer!” Izzy’s eyes burned like fire. She didn’t want to be here, it was Grall’s idea! Indeed, she couldn’t throw that at her with the bit in her mouth. Grall would have to listen to a lot from Izzy for that stupid idea to come here! Only now did Izzy realise that Grall was heaving a couple of heavy saddlebags out of the shop. He attached them one by one to Izzy’s saddle, which was pulled down by the weight. Altogether, they weighed considerably more than Grall, and he wasn’t even sitting on her back. She neighed discontentedly, but Grall patted her on the neck and held out one of the treats. Izzy was torn. On the one hand, she was furious with him, but it was also one of those wonderful treats. But did she really want to eat out of his hand? That’s what she wanted to ask herself, but she had her mouth on his hand faster than her head could think. He chuckled at the touch of her lips and stroked her head, then swung himself halfway elegantly into the saddle. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long,” he said when they were already on their way to the city gate. “Some things weren’t ready. We’ll have to come back tomorrow.” She shook her head vigorously. “Only once more, I promise.” At the city gate, Grall got his pledge back, but the guard stopped him once more. “I told my nephew about your horse. He knows a goblin who would give you a fine price for a mare like that. Think about it.” Grall wrenched his arm from the man’s grasp and rode out of the gate without a word. He led Izzy on the long walk home — or rather, to Oozol’s farm, Izzy thought — while she groaned under the weight of the shopping. Only once did they have to stop for a quick pee, and Grall insisted they use it for exercise. Izzy waited for minutes until Grall finally gave the order. — The sun continued to burn hot and Izzy was glad when the farm finally appeared in front of them. Grall tied her to a post and waved a couple of grooms over to take her clothes off the saddle. “I need to discuss something with my father, you wait here,” he said, although tied to the post, Izzy had no choice anyway. But at least she no longer had to carry the shopping. As on many days, the courtyard was bustling with activity, but something was new: a large, festively decorated carriage stood in the square and was being lovingly cleaned by a few helpers. The large wooden rims supported the heavy frame of a white, closed carriage decorated with flowers and gold paint. It was the most beautiful and impressive carriage Izzy had ever seen — although carriages of this kind were rare anyway: Humans here lacked horses, and goblins preferred to ride directly on their ponygirls. But this carriage was unusual; it was clearly made for ponygirls, but at the same time big enough for humans to travel in. While Izzy stared at the carriage in fascination, Sunshine was taken out of her stable. The pony snorted angrily in Izzy’s direction as she was tied in front of the carriage. “Where’s the second horse?” shouted Gribat, but the other grooms just shrugged their shoulders. “Where’s Pexo?” “He rode into the village on a ponygirl,” replied one of the grooms, his eyes flashing. “That fool, he took Moonlight with him!” Gribat rolled his eyes. “Great, just what I need… We need a horse with similar strength, where do I get one now? The others are too inexperienced, untrained, or weak!” He hit the carriage and kicked a stone so hard that Izzy had to dodge it. “I’m sorry, Buttercup, you…” He hesitated. “You’re just what we need!” Izzy stepped nervously as Gribat untied her. She already suspected where this was leading; she neighed and braced herself vigorously against the reins, but Gribat slapped her hard on the arse. “Don’t give me any trouble, Buttercup, we’re already too late!” She snorted and tried desperately to find Grall somewhere, but Gribat slapped her bum again a few times until she finally gave up. Her eyes burned with fiery fury, but the goblin was unfazed; he was probably already well-used to unruly horses, and Izzy was certainly not the worst animal he had seen that day. He led her directly in front of the carriage, where he tied her to the side. Izzy glanced at Sunshine, who stared back with narrowed eyes. The news of her punishment must have already reached her, and that probably hadn’t improved her opinion of Izzy. Izzy swallowed nervously and felt her hands being secured and then the saddle removed. Next, a heavy wooden and leather harness was placed over her shoulder and tied across her body with wide straps. The harness wasn’t very heavy, but it was solid and had several rings and fastenings so that the cart could be attached to it — something Izzy knew only too well, after all, she could already see it on Sunshine. She followed Gribat to the front of the carriage, where she was tied to the harness on the drawbar with thick straps and lines. Izzy shivered slightly and avoided looking to her right, the closeness to Sunshine was particularly uncomfortable, and when Gribat didn’t look, Sunshine even gave her a little kick. Izzy snorted angrily, but Sunshine just giggled through her horse bit, which like Izzy’s was connected to the rider’s reins. “Good, now just a little decoration. I want you two to look good!” he said cheerfully, waving a goblin girl with a flower basket to join him. The two of them attached the fresh flowers all over Izzy and Sunshine: on their straps, in their hair, behind their ears and even in some more intimate areas. Both now smelled like a whole flower patch, and Izzy couldn’t help but grin when she saw Sunshine’s colourful decorations next to her with a sombre expression on her face. But what kind of ride was this going to be, Izzy wondered. Why such an elaborate carriage, and why all the flowers? Of course, she didn’t get an answer to her thoughts, although she wasn’t sure if she would have been told if she had asked. You don’t usually explain things to a horse. “We’re done” Gribat shouted, hastily changing into a black suit and putting on a tall hat, which looked a bit silly on a small goblin like him. Gribat, on the other hand, looked extremely pleased as he climbed into the driver’s seat. He released the brakes and let a long whip whiz through the air. The crack right above her head startled Izzy and she pushed with all her might, while Sunshine was not yet ready. The jolt pulled her feet out from under her and she hung bleating in the harness. Gribat immediately applied the brakes and scolded them loudly: “You two must do this together. It will only work if you’re on the same beat. Try it again!” Sunshine and Izzy glared at each other; it was obvious that this was not going to be an easy ride. In fact, Izzy would have preferred anything to taking on this humiliating role. She was human, for crying out loud, she thought, why would she be pulling a carriage anyway? This was Grall’s fault again, he just forgot too often that he had to take better care of her on the farm! The whip cracked above them, and now Sunshine pushed forwards with all her might, causing Izzy to lose her balance. The harness stopped her fall, but it also took her breath away for a moment. She gasped, and her feet dragged on the ground until Gribat pulled on the brakes. Sunshine almost doubled over with laughter. “You two are really going to get the whip if you don’t stop this nonsense. We’ll try again, but don’t you dare continue playing these games!” The whip cracked and the carriage slowly began to move. Izzy and Sunshine grumbled at each other, but both wanted to avoid the whip, so at least they tried to find a common rhythm. It wasn’t easy, they both wanted to set the pace, but eventually, they agreed. Their hooves went clop-clop-clop and the sound of their synchronised pace echoed across the square. “There you go! Now just watch the reins and we’ll make good progress.” Sunshine neighed angrily and was punished with the whip. The thin leather kissed her round bottom and the ponygirl squealed in surprise. “Don’t give me any more trouble, from here on, you have to be on your best behaviour!” The journey continued for an hour along the wide roads of the countryside and, to Izzy’s displeasure, led them back to the human side of the island. Their destination was a rich village behind a hill that the people of her own village usually avoided, but at least they wouldn’t recognise her there. Still, that was little comfort, her last experience with humans as a ponygirl was still deep in her bones, and she shivered at the thought of what awaited her in this village. Still, she had no choice, the whip would force Gribats will on her, she knew that only too well. The carriage rattled over the old cobblestones of the village street; the houses were empty, but loud shouts came from a large manor house at the end of the village, where residents had already gathered, all wearing their finest clothes — just like Izzy and Sunshine, only they were humans and not animals — and staring excitedly at the wide front door of the manor. Izzy and Sunshine looked at each other questioningly, but as always, there was no explanation. The mystery was solved when the door opened: a bride and a groom in their best clothes stepped out to the cheers of the audience. The two ponygirls gulped: They were the draught animals for a wedding carriage! Izzy neighed nervously and Sunshine wasn’t happy either. Izzy couldn’t blame her, it was a strange feeling being an animal for a human celebration; tethered to a carriage with a horse bit in her mouth while people in normal clothes celebrated around them, as if there was nothing unusual about two nearly naked young women who would feel the whip on their bums if they weren’t careful. There was no slavery in this world among humans, and yet here Izzy and Sunshine were now, and no one minded. The married couple smiled happily and waved to the crowd, only the bride seemed to notice the ponygirls and grinned at them. So it wasn’t a shock for her to see the horses — it seemed more like it was part of her dream wedding that her carriage was being pulled by ponygirls. That was rather unusual for humans, but some people must like the idea of having such power overs. But there was something else about this situation that made Izzy’s heart ache. As the couple celebrated with their guests, she realised how different her life at the moment and her possible future — like Sunshine’s — was from these people. A ponygirl would never get married, never find a man — at least not one who wasn’t a stallion — and never wear a wedding dress. None of this was meant for a ponygirl, an animal. Izzy looked at Sunshine, but she was just staring at the bride, weeping; Izzy understood well what was going on in her mate’s mind at that moment. She herself still had a choice, but for Sunshine, that was long in the past. Izzy gulped too; while this bride wore a beautiful white dress, Izzy had to make do with a few straps and a tax tag on a ring between her legs. And should she continue down this path, a brand on her bum would be the best she could expect. After the couple had climbed into the carriage, the whip cracked over their heads again. The two horses immediately found their rhythm, partly because Izzy now took special care of Sunshine, whose wet eyes just stared blankly at the ground. The journey took them through the dense forest and along an old path to a small harbour by the sea, where the bridal couple boarded a small boat. Without further explanation, Gribat turned the carriage round and steered it back to the farm. The whole journey had only taken a few hours, but for Izzy it had not only been exhausting, it had also shown her once again how much she, as a ponygirl, was just an object to be used and how unglamorous her future was with a horse bit in her mouth — but also what she would lose in such a life. Arriving at the courtyard, Oozol marched to the carriage. “You shouldn’t have taken her without asking me!” he scolded, pointing at Izzy, who was grateful for his words but would still have preferred to stay away from him; the metal between her legs was warning enough of what he was capable of. “She’s owned by my son, and she’s not one of the usual horses!” Izzy snorted at “owned”, but with the horse bit in her mouth, it was pointless — and kind of inappropriate — to argue. “The job was important after all, she survived it. Should I have left the carriage?” “No, of course not. Just ask next time!” Oozol grumbled and helped to free Izzy from the carriage. Once she was free, Grall joined them, but his father raised his hand before he could say anything. “I’ve already sorted it out. In future, he’ll ask before he uses your horse. But Buttercup did well too, you can be proud of her. Just one more request: My grooms are all busy with training at the moment, and we have a new ponygirl — Lisande — in the stable. Grall, would you please wash her? Take Izzy with you. I’m sure she’ll cause less trouble with her.” Grall led Izzy along, but she struggled against the reins when they were out of sight. The goblin looked at her confused, then took the bit out of her mouth. “What’s wrong?” “Take this stuff off me, I’ve had more than enough.” As requested, Grall took the ponygirl clothes from her and handed her a clean dress that she had stored with him. It was strange to be human again; Grall didn’t look entirely satisfied. “I liked you better as a horse,” he grumbled, and Izzy slapped him hard on the back of the head. “What was that about? Why are you being so touchy?” “You’ve earned it. For the tax tag, and for making me sleep in the stable as a horse because of you.” “It wasn’t my fault with the tax tag, you just needed one,” he defended himself, rubbing the back of his head unnecessarily hard. “They would have auctioned you off otherwise!” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Then you could at least have asked me. Besides, why don’t your stables have beds? Are you too stingy to give your horses at least a little comfort?” Grall laughed now. “What’s a horse supposed to do with a bed?” “Oh, so you think we don’t need one just because you tie our hands together?” “We? Ours?” Grall grinned mischievously, but under her stern gaze he preferred to answer the question quickly. “It’s not easy for many of the horses to part with their old lives. A bed is an unpleasant memory; it’s easier for them without it.” “And what about me?” “What about you? We simply don’t have any beds in the stables, there’s nothing I can do about that. I didn’t realise you were so sensitive!” “You’re an idiot, Grall. If we hadn’t been friends for so long…” She didn’t finish the sentence and walked towards the stable Oozol had pointed to. “I think my father wanted me to wash you both,” Grall remarked, but Izzy just shook her head. “I’ll wash myself later,” she said, and looked into the stable. Inside was a young woman, perhaps only days older than Izzy. Like all ponygirls, she had a bit in her mouth and her hands and legs were tied. She looked up and her big eyes gazed helpfully at Izzy, who must have seemed like a rescue to her. “She was captured a few days ago in Dexios, which is a land across the sea to the north. She’s only been officially registered as a ponygirl since yesterday.” “I know where Dexios is,” Izzy grumbled. “So she’s not from a breeding?” Grall shook his head. “No, foals born to a ponygirl are registered as soon as they are born.” Izzy watched the shackled woman — no, the shackled ponygirl, she corrected herself — in the stable thoughtfully. She swallowed. It was strange to see another human being treated like this, but she also knew very well that there was nothing she could do to change her fate. This was simply the reality in this corner of the world — she herself had had a horse’s bit in her mouth just a few minutes ago. “Do you want to wash her?” Grall asked cautiously, and Izzy looked at him in surprise at first, but then she nodded. Of course … that was at least something she could do for this poor creature. A little human closeness and warmth might make it easier for her to accept her future. Izzy gulped and struggled to get the words out. “Hi. Oozol sent us to wash you. Will you be good?” Izzy bit her tongue, she had heard this question too many times herself. The woman — the pony, Izzy corrected herself in her mind — stood up and came to the door; she tried to say something, but Izzy raised her hand: “Don’t talk, or you’ll get in trouble. I know all about that.” Izzy grimaced. The pony looked at her questioningly, but Izzy just took a collar from the wall and put it on the surprised pony. Izzy stroked her head, causing the ponygirl to tremble. The collar was followed by a lead, which Izzy used to get the pony out of the stable and lead her to the washing area, where she tied her to a post. It was a strange feeling, leading another human around like this, but if she didn’t do it, one of the goblins would. “Wait, I’ll help you,” said Grall, but the pony tried to kick him as best she could with her bound legs. “Calm down! Fine, then only Izzy here will do it. But you’ll have to stop doing that or my father will punish you severely. He doesn’t tolerate dangerous animals on the farm.” At the word “animal”, the pony tried to kick him again, but Izzy held her firmly. “Calm down. I’m going to wash you, he’s not going to touch you today.” At these words from Izzy, the pony relaxed a little. “Have you been washed as a ponygirl yet?” asked Izzy. The pony grimaced at the mention of her new title, then shook her head. “Well, they’ve only done it to me twice. But we’ll manage.” Izzy loosened the bridle and took the bit out of her mouth. The pony immediately started talking: “Please, you have to free me. These green creatures want to ride me! Like an ANIMAL!” “Relax, that’s completely normal here. You’re a ponygirl, Lisande, you don’t have to be afraid. They’ll train you well and you’ll be a good horse.” These words did not come easily to Izzy, but even if the truth might hurt, it was better than a lie. She looked compassionately into the young woman’s eyes — she knew there was nothing she could do to change her fate. What good would it do to give her unnecessary hope? “What, are you completely insane? Besides, my name is Nelia!” “Not any more,” said Grall, keeping a safe distance. Lisande hissed angrily at Grall. “You monsters even gave me a brand!” The pony turned her bum towards Izzy, and sure enough, there was a large brand there, which had also been filled in with colour to make it easier to see. “Please, you have to let me go.” “I can’t, you’re their property. Please be quiet now, or they’ll punish you,” Izzy said unhappily when she noticed the looks from Grall and the grooms. When Lisande opened her mouth again, Izzy put a bar of soap in her mouth. “If you spit it out, I won’t be able to help you. Please, I’m truly sorry about what happened to you, but you’re on a ponygirl farm. And you’re a ponygirl. Forever. There’s no going back.” Izzy feels a stab in her heart at these words. How close was she to hearing them herself? “Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be.” “Listen to Izzy, she knows what she’s talking about,” Grall said, but Izzy just pushed him aside. “Get out, you’re not needed here,” she snapped at him. It felt good to be free again and to be able to put Grall back in his place. “But…” “Go. NOW!” Izzy demanded. Grall looked at her questioningly once more, then limped away, cursing. Lisande glared at Izzy with hatred, then nodded. Izzy took the soap from her mouth again and gave the new ponygirl some water from a jug so that she could wash her mouth out. The disgust remained in her eyes, but at least she kept quiet. It was still uncomfortable for Izzy; how much this girl reminded her of herself — and the danger she had grown closer to with each passing day. Lisande was a few steps ahead, but also a few steps behind — only Izzy had a tax tag of them both, and only Izzy had already been ridden and pulled a cart. “The goblins are all a bit strange. But you’ll have to get used to them, you’re theirs now. I’m sorry for what happened to you, but don’t try to escape; it would be pointless with the brand. I’m going to wash you now. It’s probably going to be a bit awkward, but you’ll get used to it.” Izzy took a bucket of warm water from the fire, put the soap in it and grabbed a clean sponge. First, she poured some water over Lisandes head, who squealed with fright. She spread the soap over her mane and massaged it in thoroughly, just as she had learnt from Pexo. It was strange to do what had been done to her twice, but at least now she knew what to do. “You’re a good horse,” she praised in the same tone she hated so much — but it had an effect. Lisande calmed down and relaxed a little. Izzy took the sponge and washed the ponygirls face, then her neck, shoulders, and arms. “Did the brand hurt a lot?” Lisande nodded hastily and opened her mouth, but changed her mind under Izzy’s stern gaze and just grimaced. “This next step might be a bit weird, but the goblins will do the same. You’ll get used to it.” Izzy reached for the sponge and began to soap Lisande’s breasts. Her eyes grew bigger by the second until they almost seemed to fall out of her head. “It’s strange for sure, but it’s quite nice, isn’t it?” Lisande just shook her head vigorously. “Oh, I guess it’s just me then…” She moistened the sponge again and didn’t warn Lisande about the next step. How could she warn her, how could she say that? Sometimes actions were better than words. She reached between Lisande’s legs with the sponge and looked forgivingly into the other woman’s eyes as she howled loudly. “Stop that!” Lisande shouted loud enough for all the goblins in the courtyard to turn to her. Izzy acted quickly. She grabbed Lisande, bent her over one knee and gave her two hard slaps on the bum. It made her very unhappy, but she also knew it was better than what she had to expect from the goblins. “Be quiet. You could sing all day long for all I care, but the goblins don’t like talking animals.” Without further ado, she turned back to Lisande’s lower body and finished the job without further resistance, but under the ponygirls’ hurt gaze. Shortly afterwards, the legs were also clean, making the horse shine in front of her in all her glory. “You did a good job,” praised Izzy, ruffling the confused Lisande’s mane. For a moment, Izzy was almost proud of her work, but then reality came back like a hammer blow: Lisande was not here by choice, she had lost her old life to the goblin hunters. It wasn’t like Izzy herself, who endured everything willingly. Izzy’s heart sank into her stomach, and the pity for this poor woman was overwhelming, but before she could do anything stupid, Oozol stood beside her. His words startled her, and she almost jumped into Lisande’s arms had they not been tied behind her back. “You finished just in time. We will take Lisande to her stable, then we’ll punish Sunshine.” Lisande and Izzy looked at each other uncertainly, neither of them had noticed the change in the training ground, they were too busy with each other and the intimate experience they had shared. A dense line of ponygirls ran once in a circle around the arena, blocking the view of whatever lay at its centre. Izzy shuddered, her anger at Sunshine was long gone, and this parade could mean nothing good. The punishment The ponygirls around Sunshine filled the entire training area. They stood shoulder to shoulder — firmly secured in their ponygirl gear — and stared at Sunshine, who waited fearfully in their midst. The grooms stood in front of the ponygirls, but as they were all goblins, the horses could easily see over them. The atmosphere was tense, especially when Izzy was guided to the side. The other ponygirls’ gazes seemed to pierce her, not a single smile to be seen. It wasn’t difficult to guess that punishments weren’t very popular with the ponygirls, and those they blamed were even more unpopular. Izzy lowered her head in embarrassment — even if it wasn’t her fault that Sunshine had attacked her! Oozol pushed past Izzy and went to Sunshine, but Grall’s little sister Saxea threw herself at his feet. “Please, Dad, you can’t do that. She won’t do it again. You promised she was mine. Please don’t do that!” The little goblin girl had tears in her eyes, but Oozol stood firm. He gestured one of the grooms over and had Saxea brought into the house. Sunshine stood next to a special rack — which Izzy recognised from the tax tag and sent a shiver down her spine — and waited nervously. Oozol gave her a short command to lie down on the rack, belly first. She looked briefly at Izzy, then shakily obeyed the order and waited until Oozol had secured her well with several straps. The old goblin then went to a crate and pulled out a large whip that would have looked impressive even in the hands of a human. He whirled it around and a sharp, cutting crack broke the silence. Izzy swallowed. She had expected extra work for Sunshine, perhaps a hard slap on the bum, or some worse food, but not a whip like this; it was a sharp-tongued beast, made only to punish. The goblins’ riding crops looked like toys in comparison. Oozol waited until the first murmur had died down. “There are clear rules on this farm. They may seem harsh to some, but they guarantee that every horse understands its role. If a ponygirl breaks these rules, she will be punished. Sunshine has broken one of the most important rules: she has attacked someone. There is no tolerance for violence on this farm.” Some ponygirls neighed angrily, and Izzy knew why; she recognised the irony in the words, too. The goblins weren’t always gentle with the horses, they often used whips, spurs, or the palm of their hand — obviously animals and goblins were held to different standards. “As punishment, Sunshine is whipped: 5 strokes on the bum, 5 on the breasts.” The other ponygirls became restless, some stomping up furiously. It was clear that they understood the severity of the punishment well. Izzy caught a few nasty looks. Grall’s father stood behind Sunshine and lashed out. He swung wide and scratched a red welt on her bottom with the whip. She howled and he repeated it four times. Each stroke sent a jolt through the entire row of ponygirls, and Izzy was no exception. Some had tears in their eyes, but Sunshine stood firm. She turned onto her back with a fixed gaze and endured the next strokes. When the punishment was finished, Oozol took a healing paste and took his time to carefully treat all of Sunshine’s marks — even he seemed affected by the punishment, his face was red and his eyes moist. The other ponygirls also looked exhausted, and Izzy suspected that she hadn’t made any friends among the ponygirls today. The grooms took the mares back to their stables and left Izzy with Grall. “If you sleep here tonight, we could quickly pick up the things from the blacksmith tomorrow and then head back into the forest. What do you think?” asked Grall, as if nothing had happened, although he too looked a little battered. Izzy shook her head firmly; the farm had just lost much of its already little charm for her. She would rather not stay a second longer than necessary — because of Oozol, the other ponygirls, and the fear of her future that she had just clearly seen before her. “Forget it. No more riding!” “But…” stuttered Grall in surprise. “Why not, what’s wrong? Come on!” Izzy had a thousand good reasons, but she was still a bit in shock and couldn’t find a single suitable word. “Just … because I don’t want to! And the tax tag comes off tomorrow too!” “But…” Grall stammered again, yet he couldn’t fight her hard stare. “Then don’t!” He threw his hands up in the air angrily and marched off without turning round again. “So much money for nothing!” Izzy glared after him; what right did he have to be offended? He wasn’t risking a whipping, a night in a stable or a life with a bit in his mouth! Was the money for the tax more important to him than her friendship? She kicked an old bucket hard and disappeared from the yard. — The next day, Izzy marched through the gate of Oozol’s farm, her eyes fixed directly on Grall, who looked up in surprise. “You… changed your mind, didn’t you?” he asked hopefully, but Izzy shook her head. “If we’re still friends, I hope I’m enough for you.” He tilted his head. “Of course we’re still friends, I just thought…” “What? That one night would change my mind?” Grall nodded cautiously. “You changed your mind earlier. We have to go to Udamos again. It’s too far for me to walk.” Izzy felt a groom’s hand on her arm, but she pushed him away. “Don’t try that, nobody saddles me any more! If you have to go to Udamos, it’s definitely not on my back.” “Come on, you’re a good ponygirl, why can’t you see that?” “Oh, that’s exactly the problem! If it’s up to you, I’m your animal, I stand in the stable all day waiting for you. You don’t even think about what all this means for me.” Grall crossed his arms in front of his chest, but said nothing. “What’s wrong, you always have something to say,” demanded Izzy. “I’m not ashamed of the fact that I think you’re a good horse. No, the best! There isn’t another ponygirl on the whole farm that can hold a candle to you. I would be proud to have you in my stable! You can’t imagine how exciting it was for me when you were already saddled up and waiting for me in the morning.” “But that’s not enough for me!” “Why not? What’s so bad about being a ponygirl?” “It’s humiliating. You’re ignored, used and beaten. Besides, did you see the way people looked at me yesterday?” Grall grumbled. “Fools. You can’t let idiots like that affect you.” Izzy hesitated. “What’s the matter? You know you can ask me anything you want.” She took a deep breath. “As a ponygirl, would you punish me like Sunshine?” “Why would we punish you like that?” he asked, surprised. “You wouldn’t attack anyone, would you?” “I mean hypothetically. If I did…” “That’s silly, you’re not like Sunshine.” “But if I did!” Grall chewed on his lower lip. “Hypothetically speaking… if you were a ponygirl on our farm and attacked someone, we’d punish you. But that’s rubbish, you wouldn’t do that! You’re far too tame for that!” She snorted… tame only describes an animal, not a person. “Am I a ponygirl to you?” “None like the others, but if you were to attack someone whilst wearing a saddle on your back, you would be a ponygirl for us, at least at that moment. My father made that clear. And he’s probably right.” Izzy shivered. She had seen what had happened to Sunshine, and now it was clear that she was not protected from it. “Don’t worry, that will never happen. You’re a great and sweet girl.” “That’s the point, though, you don’t understand; you’ve never had a bit in your mouth or had to be scared of a whip. I’m not a ponygirl, and I never will be again.” “You’re right, I don’t know what that’s like. I’m not any good as a ponygirl — look at my short legs. Not even a mouse would want to ride me.” He grinned at her. “They really are a bit short.” Izzy giggled slightly. “Why did you ride me into town, anyway? Was there no other way?” Grall thought for a moment, then decided to tell the truth. “It was quick and easy. But I should have asked you, I realise that now. We only have to go one more time today. Can I ride you?” “No!” The goblin lowered his head. “All right. Then I’ll ask my father for a cart. It’ll take a lot longer, and not half as much fun, but if I have to… would you at least like to come with me? It’s a boring journey alone.” “It didn’t bother you on our rides, did it?” He playfully kicked her shoe. “You don’t need to rub any more salt in the wound, I get it. Besides, I was never alone, you were always right in front of me.” “Wait,” Oozol shouted and ran to them. “I need you to give me one last hand, then you can ride off.” “Izzy doesn’t want to be a ponygirl any more,” Grall explained. “We’ll take a horse and cart.” “That’s her decision. But you can clean out a stable, can’t you?” Izzy grimaced but nodded. He sent her to the furthest stables and she marched off immediately. Her path also led past the stable of the stallion she had seen a few days ago. She looked in sneakily and saw him sitting in the far corner. He was an impressive sight, but when he looked up briefly, she hurried on. Most of the stables were quite clean and only one was still occupied. To Izzy’s horror, Sunshine sat in a corner while Saxea combed her mane. They both looked up, and the air seemed to have become much colder. “Come on, let’s go,” Saxea said, pulling Sunshine behind her by her reins. Sunshine’s leg twitched and Izzy jumped to the side, but the other horse just giggled. Stupid mare, Izzy thought briefly, but then she felt a little guilty. The punishment was very harsh. Izzy pushed the thought aside and set about cleaning the stable. It took a while to get all the stables clean, and Izzy realised she was a little quicker than Oozol and Grall, who were still busy with their work. There was a lot of activity around her but no one paid her any particular attention. In fact, it was one of the few moments when she was unnoticed and free in the farmyard. Her eyes wandered around and lingered once more on the stallion’s stable. “He must be pretty bored,” she whispered to herself, as if she had to convince herself that there was a real reason to go to him again. A reason other than pure curiosity, anyway. Her legs moved as if by themselves, but she was careful not to be seen. It was probably not forbidden to go to him, but something deep inside her told her that it would not go uncommented. Her back pressed against the hard wood next to the open upper door of his stable, then she gathered her courage and half-turned to face his door. He looked up again and looked her straight in the eye. His muscles seemed to tense, while Izzy’s legs softened. “Hi,” she stuttered, feeling terribly stupid. It was the same stupid high-pitched squeak she usually laughed at other girls for when they talked to a boy. But this wasn’t a boy, that much was certain. He seemed quite excited to see Izzy, that too was unmistakable. But there was something else Izzy noticed: Not only was he tied up, but he was also tied to the back wall with a thick chain, obviously thought to be far more dangerous than the ponygirls. In a strange way, that made him even more interesting. She swallowed and licked her lips. “What’s your name?” she asked, but immediately cringed at the stupid question; how was he supposed to say that with a bit in his mouth, but he just nodded sideways, pointing to a sign next to his stall that Izzy had overlooked until now, “Titan. Breeding stallion.” Izzy swallowed again; the word “Stallion” had a strange effect on her. “Do you like him?” it came from the side, and Izzy’s heart almost stopped. It was Oozol, who had approached surprisingly quietly. She still felt very uncomfortable around him, but he didn’t seem to notice — or chose to ignore it. He climbed the steps by the door and looked in too. “I think he likes you,” Oozol said, and the stallion tugged at his bonds. “A mare shouldn’t approach him like that unless she’s willing to do what it takes to calm him down again…” He raised an eyebrow, and Izzy immediately took a few steps back. “I just wanted to check on him. He seemed so lonely.” Oozol smiled. “No doubt you would suit him as company. But believe me, stallions are not known for being romantic.” Izzy bit her tongue. It was bad enough being so close to Oozol, but for him to think of her that way … “Come, there’s something else you can do instead.” He led her to Lisande’s stall, who was crouching in front of the door with her head bowed. “Up you go, you’ll get your new gear today.” Lisande curled up and turned her back to them, but Oozol had no patience for that. He opened the door and slapped the ponygirl hard on the bum with his hand, right under the brand. “Up you go, or you’ll be punished,” Oozol said, “You’ve seen what that looks like today.” The ponygirl neighed unhappily and slowly pushed herself to her feet, which she was still visibly struggling to do without arms. It was strange for Izzy to see another ponygirl so early in her development and to compare herself to her. Why had this all come so much easier to me, she asked herself, shaking slightly. Oozol attached a leash to Lisande’s collar and led her out, tying her to a post next to a small pile of ponygirl gear. “Lisande is still a foal, but today she will take the first step to becoming a young horse,” he said to Izzy, then turned to the horse. “You’re lucky, Izzy here is already a riding horse — at least she was — few ponygirls are lucky enough to learn directly from one like her. Watch out when she puts your gear on.” “You want me to do that?” asked Izzy in surprise. Oozol nodded. “It will help you to understand ponygirls from the other side, too. Start with the saddle, then her hands are already secured.” “I know that,” Izzy grumbled, after all it wasn’t the first time for her either, only this time it wasn’t her arms that ended up under the saddle. The leather felt strange in her hands, not as high quality as her own. “The saddle will be unfamiliar at first, but you have nothing to worry about, they’re actually quite comfortable.” Lisande seemed less sure, shaking all over and looking at Izzy with wide eyes. But she nodded weakly and turned away so that Izzy could easily place the saddle on her back. The ponygirl shuddered at the touch of the leather. Izzy hurriedly walked around her and tied the top straps first, her hands shaking no less than Grall’s hands had done when he first tried to saddle her. “This next one is a little awkward, but it has to be done.” She grabbed Lisande between the legs, who yelped in surprise. Izzy held her by the shoulder with one hand and pulled the strap between her clenched legs, then fastened it to her belly and pulled it so tight that Lisande squealed. “That was the worst of it,” lied Izzy, who hadn’t failed to notice that a new horse bit was lying beside her — a training bit that would press into her tongue and palate. But first she let Lisande slip into her new boots, which she clearly liked. Her short steps on the lead caused the familiar clop-clop-clop and brought a smile to the young woman’s face for a brief moment. Izzy allowed her the short break, even though Oozol pawed his feet impatiently. Finally, she picked up the horse bit and held it in front of Lisande’s face. “First, we’ll take the old one out. But don’t talk!” She undid the fastenings and as soon as the bit was out, Lisande gritted her teeth. “You don’t need to be afraid. The practice bit isn’t that bad. I know what I’m talking about, I’ve worn it many times.” Izzy blushed a little, but it was the truth. “If your rider is careful, you’ll hardly notice it. You just have to follow the reins. Open your mouth, please.” But Lisande shook her head vigorously. “You’re too careful with her,” Oozol said, slapping the ponygirl’s bum again. “Stop it. Now!” Izzy ordered loudly and Oozol took a step back. “If you want me to saddle her, I’ll do it my way!” “Right, go on then!” said Oozol, and Izzy grinned slightly. She was enjoying putting the old goblin in his place. It was only right and proper that he quickly realised that the time when he could lead her around by the reins as a ponygirl was over! Now she just had to make sure she didn’t need a goblin to pee any more…. Izzy tried again, but Lisande remained stubborn; despite good words and a lot of sympathy, her mouth remained shut. Finally, Izzy sighed and resorted to a trick she had learnt from the other side. She hated to do it, but she wanted to get away from Oozol as soon as possible. She grabbed Lisande’s breast and painfully twisted her nipple. Lisande howled, and the horse bit immediately went into her mouth. The ponygirl gave Izzy a dirty look, but she just shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I know exactly how that feels, but it had to be done” She hurriedly attached the reins to the bit and pulled slightly to the right, and Lisande’s eyes widened. “You will get used to it. But if your rider is careful, you’ll hardly notice it.” She handed the reins to Oozol, who passed them directly to Gribat. “Let her gain some experience with the new bit. Later, put a few weights on the saddle to help her find her balance. Repeat this over the coming days until she gets to grips with it.” Izzy looked after Lisande. “Does it always take this long?” Oozol nodded. “With most horses, it can take weeks to get used to the reins and saddle. It’s difficult to find your balance with a goblin on your back. They also hate being ridden. From what my son told me, you must have been the most docile animal ever on this big island. It was remarkable how quickly you were tamed.” Izzy shuddered at the words — because of what they meant, but also how Oozol described it. Fortunately for her, he changed the subject when Grall joined them. “Saxea worries me, she’s too attached to Sunshine. That horse is trouble. It’s not easy for me, but I’m going to tell her tonight that I’m going to sell Sunshine after all,” Oozol said. “It’s hard to tell your little daughter something like that. Wish me luck. If I don’t survive, I want to be buried deep in the ground!” He winked, but Izzy still preferred to keep her distance from the old goblin. — Half an hour later, Izzy was on a cart with Grall, rumbling towards Udamos. It was a new experience for Izzy, despite her many years around the goblins she had never ridden in a ponygirl cart before — apart from the fact that she had pulled a carriage as a horse yesterday. Only once as a child had she ridden in a carriage, but that had been far out west, where carriages and carts were pulled by real horses. The ponygirl, Moonlight, who now walked in front of her, was slightly smaller than Izzy, but stockier in build. Her bum swung back and forth with every step, while Grall steered her with a loose grip on the reins. There was also a whip behind his seat, but to Izzy’s relief, he didn’t bother to use it. Still, it was strange for Izzy to see the ponygirl in front of her; after all, she had only recently swapped places with her. If Pexo hadn’t ridden her into the village at the wrong time, Izzy would probably never have known what it was like to pull a carriage — and would never have wanted to. Izzy swallowed. Grall snapped her out of her thoughts. “Here, take the reins,” Grall said, handing them to Izzy without any further explanation. Izzy didn’t really want to — she knew only too well from her experience yesterday what it felt like to pull a carriage — but it was too late; Grall had climbed to the back and was looking for something in one of the crates, and Izzy had to keep the cart on course. Her hands shook at first, but she soon got the hang of it, and there was something exciting about steering a ponygirl with just the reins. She gave a tentative tug to the left and she could clearly see the bit tugging a little at the left corner of her mouth; Moonlight immediately steered the cart in the direction she wanted and Izzy had to counter-steer. It was a strange feeling of power, and she was almost embarrassed. So often Grall had steered her with the reins — as Gribat had on the carriage — and now she was sitting on the coach seat, steering a tethered young woman through the world. It was completely crazy, but also exhilarating. She steered the cart for a few minutes, but when Grall returned with a small snack, she hastily handed him the reins before losing herself completely in the sensation. There was also something else that needed her attention. “Stop a minute,” asked Izzy, who had been squeezing her legs together since she left. There were no toilets for humans on the farm — there was only the straw of the stable or a paddock for them, but neither was very attractive; the forest was better. “We’re losing time,” Grall grumbled, but then he understood their plight. “All right, I’ll pull over.” He skilfully steered the carriage to the side of the road and stopped the horse with the reins. “But hurry.” Izzy rolled her eyes and jumped off. There was no one to be seen far and wide, so she ran to the nearest tree and lifted her dress before crouching down. That was all she needed. She’d tried underwear that morning, but the feel of the scratchy fabric was so strangely alien that she’d left it off. “Go on!” shouted Grall, annoyed, and Izzy looked up. Her friend stared back as if it was the most normal thing in the world to watch her do this, and she wasn’t even a ponygirl at the moment! She blushed slightly and waited to see if he would look away, but he did not. But she couldn’t and would do it while he stared at her! Finally, a light seemed to dawn on him; he raised his eyebrows in surprise and blushed slightly himself. “I’m sorry, that was stupid of me…” Izzy nodded in relief; once he turned around, she would finally be able to get rid of this pressure. But Grall thought very differently. “Rhida kess!” he said in a firm voice, and immediately — out of habit, perhaps, or because her body had really been waiting for it — all of Izzy’s dams broke. “I’ll think about it sooner in the future. Sometimes I forget how well you’ve adapted. Don’t worry, it’s quite normal for a ponygirl.” Izzy glared at him angrily, but it wasn’t easy, while at the same time she felt a genuine sense of relief. To make matters worse, she wasn’t sure if her body hadn’t been waiting for the command after all. Confused, she sat back down next to Grall. “What if the pony has to go, too?” she asked sympathetically, after all, she knew the situation only too well. “She’ll last a long time, you’ll learn too.” He chuckled, but Izzy wasn’t amused by the joke, and they both fell silent for the rest of the journey to town. — The sight of the high wall brought back unpleasant memories for Izzy, but at least the gatekeeper didn’t seem to recognize her. He greeted her with the usual friendliness that he probably showed to every young lady, which in his case only amounted to a curt grunt. But that was fine by Izzy, she didn’t want to engage in a conversation with someone who had recently mistaken her for an animal and grabbed her between the legs. She suddenly felt the tax tag between her legs again and rubbed her thighs together nervously. The ponygirl was less fortunate, however; the guard checked her with the same dedication that Izzy had had to endure, but the pony was probably more used to it and didn’t even make a face — which wouldn’t have been too easy with the horse bit in her mouth, anyway. After another suitable deposit had been paid — to Izzy’s pride, Moonlight cost less than 50 thalers — the cart rumbled undisturbed along the broken roads to the blacksmith’s store. But instead of stopping, Grall steered the cart into a small side street and then behind the store, where no curious townsfolk could ogle the ponygirl. Izzy nodded in satisfaction. “Sometimes I learn something,” Grall said, and Izzy helped him off the cart with his broken leg. When Grall wasn’t looking, Izzy went to Moonlight, put a finger to her lips and took the bit from the ponygirl’s mouth. Both winked at each other. Grall led Izzy back to the main street, where she felt the first glances on her and guessed that not everyone had forgotten her. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, snapping Izzy out of her thoughts. “Come inside.” She shook herself and felt like hitting her head. Of course, as a human, she was allowed in! How quickly she had forgotten… she followed Grall into the warm and stuffy store. After an hour, all business was done and Izzy was delighted to breathe some fresh air again. Her time as a ponygirl had accustomed her to a life in stables and under the open sky; workshops like this now seemed strangely hostile and unnatural. While Grall was still sorting out the finances, Izzy walked out the door alone and froze in shock. A small crowd was waiting outside and gawked at her as soon as she stood in front of the store. It was mostly men of all ages who seemed to undress her with their stares. Izzy arched her back and struggled forward, but she had barely taken a few steps when she felt the first hands on her body. The matter-of-factness with which these men grabbed her — and only her! — was disgusting and also frightening. This couldn’t be a coincidence, which was confirmed by the whispers of some men: “Does the horse want some sugar?”, “Are only goblins allowed to ride you?” “Why don’t you let me see your tax tag?” It was disgusting, and Izzy didn’t hesitate to ram her elbows into the bellies of the nearest men, who went down groaning. One of the advantages of not being tied down, Izzy thought, and proceeded to dish out kicks, headbutts and a few punches as well. It was the great luck of these men that Izzy wasn’t wearing hoofed pony boots today, or a couple of the guys would have had to greet the evening with busted kneecaps. Nevertheless, a few of the men lay thrashing on the ground after Izzy had successfully fought her way through the crowd. “Bloody Amazon,” one of the men hissed, but Izzy gave him another little kick and silenced him. “What are you guys doing? Get out of here, you scumbags!” hissed Grall, scratching the hard stone floor with his claws. The sound was ghastly, and so at least he had the attention of the men, who would otherwise have missed him because of his size. “What happened here?” asked a guard, the same one who hadn’t been much help yesterday. “Did your ponygirl do that? Why is she attacking these poor citizens?” “You mean my friend here?” grumbled Grall. “Can’t you see she’s been attacked? What are you doing about it?” “I recognize the horse, thank you very much, even a dress won’t change that. I’ll have to fine you for this trouble. 50 thalers. Now!” Izzy glared angrily at the guard. “That’s not right!” “Exactly, you can’t do that!” Grall agreed. “Whatever you say. I can also confiscate the animal, then you can release her later for a higher fine. Our stables aren’t very nice, though.” “You don’t have any coins with you, do you?” asked Grall, and Izzy shook her head. Even as a human, she was dependent on him. He sighed, reached into his wallet and grudgingly paid the fine. “You’re going to make me poor.” He took Izzy by the hand and hobbled to the cart. “Don’t worry, it’s not your fault — this town is just rotten! I hope they’ve left the cart alone.” To Izzy’s relief, they had woken the dozed girl — she hadn’t noticed any of the fuss — and stuck the bit back in her mouth before her friend noticed anything. Grall spurred the pony on and steered it out of the town as quickly as he could without any detours. “My father can do the next shopping alone. I’m not coming back here!” “You’re lucky, they didn’t feel you up,” said Izzy. It was a terrible experience — and a whole town now knew her as a ponygirl! Luckily, she was far away and no one would tell her village about it, but it was still awful. Grall preferred not to say anything, and the journey back was quiet. Once in the village, he dropped Izzy off with her father and thanked her for travelling into town with him. “If you like, we can meet at the lake tomorrow. Just to talk.” She nodded and disappeared quietly into the house, where her father greeted her with a smile. “Oh, a rare visitor. You’ve been making yourself scarce at home lately. Oozol still won’t tell me what Grall and you actually do all the time when you’re not here.” Izzy bit her tongue. “Oh, it’s… not much to tell. I’ll explain later… I promise.” Hurriedly, she ran to her room and hopped into her bed. As she noticed through the window, the cart remained outside the house for a few minutes until Grall drove the ponygirl off again. Like a few nights before, Izzy didn’t get much sleep that night. She stared at the ceiling and thought of all the strange things that had happened to her over the last few days. She had probably jumped off just in time — who knows where this path would have led her if she had become a ponygirl just one more time. She still hadn’t fallen asleep well after midnight when she heard a call from the forest. Grall limped over to her and waved his arms. “What are you doing here, it’s the middle of the night!” she shouted at him. But Grall didn’t stop, his face was contorted in pain. “Saxea is gone!” Pony heroine “Come in, you are completely frozen.” Izzy opened the door for him, and her father had also woken up. “What’s going on, Isabel?” Grall swallowed. “My sister Saxea has disappeared. It’s probably because of Sunshine, after…” He bit his tongue and his gaze darted briefly to Izzy. “We have to go and find her. “Does your father know about this?” asked Izzy’s father, Matheus. “He and the others are about to ride out, but they don’t know her hiding places as well as I do.” “Then help them!” Izzy snarled at him. “Then what are you still doing here?” “I want to, but I can’t do it without you, you have to… support me. I can’t get far with my leg. Please!” “Of course, Isabel will help you, am I right?” Izzy looked desperately at her father, who couldn’t understand why she was hesitating — it was Grall’s sister, after all. She swallowed and nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll help.” Even if that made me a ponygirl again, Izzy thought desperately. The ground seemed to give way beneath her feet. Matheus helped Grall to his feet. “Can I help, too?” Grall nodded. “Stay here, maybe she’ll come around. She’s run away many times, but never at night. Besides, she took Sunshine with her. Hopefully they won’t get far.” He took Izzy by the hand and pulled her out the door behind him, where she took him in her arms — unseen — and ran with him to Oozol’s yard. The night was particularly gloomy, and Grall had to stop her from running straight into a tree several times. “Why don’t you take one of the other ponygirls,” Izzy asked breathlessly. “You have dozens of them!” “Most of them are still untrained, the other goblins have taken all the good ones. Besides, I’ve only ridden you so far. We have to find my sister before something happens to her. I can’t do it without my horse.” Izzy snorted, but said nothing. She didn’t believe a word he said either, with so many ponygirls on the farm, there was bound to be one left for him to ride out on. No, he just didn’t want to ride any other horse but her. If it hadn’t been for his sister — and Sunshine, for which she felt guilty — she would have sent him to hell for it. But they could talk about that later. The farm was brightly lit, torches were burning everywhere and goblins were running around wildly. Ponygirls were saddled by the dozen, and goblins rode along the streets and into the forest in all directions. It was a great hustle and bustle in which no one paid any attention to her until Oozol called her name — or what was now being used as her name here. “Very well, my son, you have fetched Buttercup. Saddle her at once, you will investigate the coast.” Again, Izzy realised that she was only considered a horse, and only Grall was given the job. Grall nodded and Izzy was dressed faster than ever. It was strange how routine it was for both of them, she even opened her mouth before Grall had the horse bit in his hand. Izzy was a little ashamed of it, but in this case, it was necessary; she couldn’t see enough that night without Grall. It was true, they were a good team, she just had to give up her humanity, her freedom, and everything that had meant something to her so far… she sighed. Grall led her back to the yard, climbed into her saddle with the help of the stirrups, and had his father explain the way. Izzy listened carefully. The destination was the sea to the south, quite an impressive distance at night, but as Saxea also had a ponygirl with her, they had to assume that she had made it there. As Oozol explained, they had already investigated the immediate surroundings, now they were all riding to places Saxea knew. “Did you understand everything?” asked Oozol, and they both nodded, even though Izzy hadn’t been asked. “This is important. If you have to, you’ll ride down the whole beach, do you understand?” They nodded again. “Go on then!” He gave Izzy a firm slap on the bum and shooed her off. The ride went past the stables and out the south gate, which Grall didn’t usually use. The first few metres led steeply down a path to the lake, but Izzy wasn’t in the mood for a swim. They rode around the lake and crossed a bridge into an unspoilt forest that neither of them had yet explored — partly because they were generally convinced that there were no interesting ruins waiting for them there. Instead, the mighty trees stood close together, their canopies shielding the forest floor from the faint light of the stars. For Izzy, it was an impenetrable black wall, through which Grall pushed her onwards with small kicks. Here and there he pulled on the reins and Izzy could almost feel the trees against her skin as she narrowly missed them. It was a scary ride, and it required a lot of trust between rider and horse, but thankfully the two were well-aligned. Still, it was a long way through a dangerous darkness where even a small mistake could cause a painful fall at this fast pace. Despite the cold, Izzy was sweating with exertion and fear, and Grall was also shifting nervously in the saddle. The farm was already far behind them when Grall stopped Izzy. “There’s something in the darkness,” he whispered, his arm pointing into the blackness to her right. Izzy couldn’t see anything, but she felt Grall tremble. “RUN!” he shouted, his voice echoing throughout the forest. He kicked her with all his might and slapped her hard on the bottom. “RUN! FASTER!” Izzy heard a loud panting behind her. She didn’t have to turn around to know they were being chased by a pack of wolves. Her legs flew over the uneven forest ground; one misstep and they both wouldn’t reach the farm alive. Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest. What she wouldn’t have given for a lamp, but this way she had only Grall to rely on as she charged blindly through the forest, hooves pounding the dirt floor in quick time. “We’ve almost lost them, there’s only one left behind us!” That was just fine with Izzy, her legs were starting to get tired. He led her in a sharp right turn around a tree as he brought her to a halt with a sharp pull on the reins. “A dead end!” Izzy was breathing heavily, but even without seeing him, she knew the wolf was behind them. He, too, was winded and rattling as he came closer and closer with heavy steps. “You have to kick him!” Grall demanded. Izzy didn’t understand, what good would a kick do against a wolf? “Your hooves are made of metal, you can hurt him badly with them!” She nodded and got ready. She stood sideways and gathered all the strength she had left. Her leg was bent, and she waited for the command. “NOW!” All the strength of her trained legs was in that kick. Her leg was almost fully extended when she felt something hard under her hoof. The loud crack echoed through the forest and the wolf fell to the ground, not moving. “You broke his neck,” Grall said admiringly. “Move, before his friends arrive.” He led Izzy out of the dead end and rode on southwards. Izzy followed the reins, but her mind was still a few minutes behind. Had she truly run away from wolves and killed one with just a kick? She shuddered. She had never thought herself so strong — or dangerous, if looked from the perspective of the goblins who often worked right next to ponygirls legs. She swallowed. So that was why they were always tied up, for the goblins it had to be a game of death if a ponygirl was ever in a bad mood. Grall urged her on, but they were spared wolves the rest of the way, but Izzy sensed that Grall had become even more nervous. She couldn’t blame him either, if they had both narrowly escaped the wolves, what chance had Saxea had? Izzy pushed the thought aside, there was no reason to believe that the girl had come this way. The forest opened up and a long cliff with a beach deep below appeared in front of them. It was a fantastic sight, especially on this calm night, but neither of them was in the mood for it. Grall led Izzy slowly along the edge, and at first, it seemed like they were wasting their time, but then they saw someone in the distance, hiding behind a tree. Izzy ran off even without Grall’s command — which he acknowledged with a grumble. It was Sunshine! The ponygirl was tied to the tree and tugged at its reins. It was a sad sight, but as soon as Sunshine noticed them, she didn’t try to hide again but jumped around excitedly. “What happened,” Grall asked, and she looked towards the cliff. Izzy’s heart stopped. Grall limped to the edge and looked down. “She’s alive!” Izzy ran to him and leant forward on wobbly legs. Saxea laid unconscious on a small ledge just two metres below them, but from there it was a 30-metre drop. The ledge wasn’t much wider than the girl, she only had to roll to the side once and her life was over. “You have to lower me down!” ordered Grall, but they didn’t make it. He hung on to her reins, but there was still almost a metre to go. Izzy moaned, his whole face pulling at her head, but it just wasn’t enough. She backed up slowly and heaved Grall back onto safe ground. Grall hurriedly took the ponygirl clothes off her, but even so they had nothing with them to overcome such a great height. Grall could, of course, just jump down, but then there was no way up. “I have an idea,” said Izzy and ran to Sunshine, who was staring at her with wide eyes. “Please help us, we can only do it together.” Sunshine nodded without hesitation. Izzy took the ponygirl gear off her, too, a freedom she clearly wasn’t used to any more. She stretched out her arms, moved her mouth and looked longingly at the forest for a moment. “If you run, Saxea will die,” Izzy warned. Sunshine took a deep breath. “Good,” she said in a voice she probably hadn’t used in years. Izzy was momentarily caught off guard to hear her talk, but then she shelled herself for the thought. Of course, they could talk! “Why did Saxea ride off with you in the first place? You manipulated her, didn’t you?” asked Izzy sternly. “It was her idea, I just gave her a little nudge to make her do it. You can’t blame me, it sounded like a good idea. The girl is very stubborn, when she wants something, she won’t give it up — including me, I think. But now I feel sorry for her, I didn’t mean for something like this to happen…” Izzy nodded. “And I’m sorry about your punishment.” Sunshine walked past her. “It’s okay, I was an arsehole. I didn’t want Grall at all, I was just jealous. But…” “But what?” Izzy pressed on. “The others were all caught if they didn’t come from a breeding programme. Nobody else is a ponygirl by choice. But you are. It just felt wrong… like you were a traitor. That was silly of me, you can do whatever you want… even something so stupid.” She winked. “Just make sure you don’t get in too deep. The goblins will never give you up once they have you. You can take my word for that.” The two of them tied the reins together and let Grall down. Even now, there was still a stretch missing. Izzy grabbed Sunshine by the legs and let her down a little over the edge. It took a lot of trust, but it was enough for Grall to reach his sister. He took her in his arms and Izzy pulled as hard as she could. She moaned loudly; she had strong legs, but her arms were average at best — the long hours under the saddle hadn’t made it any better. Her loud cry cut through the silence on the cliff and she managed to pull Sunshine, Grall and Saxea to the safety of the ground. The four of them hugged each other and it was quite a while before they let go. Saxea was also slowly waking up. She had an injury to her head, but it didn’t seem too bad. Sunshine looked towards the forest again. It must have been the first time in years that she wasn’t tethered, Izzy thought. It was her chance to escape, to live without the goblins. At least in theory. Izzy’s gaze travelled down Sunshine’s body, from the registration number on her chest to the brand on her bottom. Here, in this part of the world, even many humans would heed those markings and return a runaway ponygirl to her rightful owner — for a reward, of course. The ponygirl’s eyes continued to dart back and forth between the forest and Saxea. Finally, Sunshine shook her head and took Saxea in her arms. With a slow trot, she made her way to the yard. Grall dressed Izzy again and the two followed her. — The journey back was less exciting than the trip there. Even the wolves stayed away from them this time; the hooves of two full-grown ponygirls seemed too dangerous for them, after all. Sunshine continued to carry Saxea in her arms, who had fallen into a deep sleep. This left Izzy alone with her thoughts — she kept thinking about Sunshine’s possible escape, and it brought back an old memory that she had almost forgotten. A few years ago, a young girl had appeared at their door… — It had been a cold autumn day, the leaves were almost all on the ground and the sun had lost much of its power, but a strong wind swept through the forest. Izzy had only been ten at the time, but of course, she had considered herself mature and grown up enough to cope with all of life’s difficulties. Therefore, it was only right that her father had not taken her to fetch wood, but had left her alone in the house. She was reading a book when she heard a noise outside the door. “Why are you back already?” she called out, leaning casually on the window, but to her surprise it wasn’t her father standing there, instead there was a girl — perhaps seven or eight years older than herself — who was wrapping herself in a blanket from the washing line. “Hey, they’re ours!” Izzy hissed, but the girl just glared at her wide-eyed and pulled the blanket tighter around her body. “What are you doing out there anyway? Are you stupid or why aren’t you wearing shoes?” The girl looked down and blushed. “They stole my things,” she said in a raspy voice, as if thick dust had settled onto it over the years. She coughed. “Can you lend me something? A dress, or a pair of trousers. And a shirt. I’m terribly cold.” Izzy frowned. The girl was a lot taller than her, her clothes certainly wouldn’t fit her. But maybe her mum’s clothes would. They were old and the moths had eaten away at them, but they might fit. “Wait a minute!” The girl nodded and looked around uncertainly. Izzy came back with some clothes, shoes and a shirt, and the girl put everything on — two dresses and the shirt on top. “You must be freezing!” The girl smiled weakly. “What’s your name anyway?” “Blue L…” she bit her tongue. “Whose name is Blue?” “No, forget it. It’s just a… nickname.” The girl thought for a moment, as if she had to search for her name deep in her memories. “Maria. My name is Maria.” “You’re not from the village, I’ve never seen you here before. Where are you from? You have a strange dialect…” Maria smiled. “From very far away. Very far.” “Then your family moved here?” She shook her head. “No, not my family. Just me. Have you any food? I’m hungry.” Izzy pondered for a moment. Politeness demanded that she invite a visitor into the house, but she didn’t know Maria, and what if she… wasn’t nice? On the other hand, the girl didn’t seem dangerous. Izzy waved Maria inside and led her into the kitchen, where she fired up the oven. Maria moved her chair to the fire and closed her eyes. She leaned forwards a little and Izzy saw a strange mark on the girl’s bottom in the corner of her eye. Her heart stopped. She had always stayed away from ponygirls, but she knew how to recognise them. Izzy walked quickly to Maria, pushed her shirt down and caught a glimpse of the registration number before Maria slapped her on the fingers. “Do you ogle every girl’s breasts?” Maria asked irritably, but Izzy wasn’t fooled. “You’re a ponygirl!” Maria bit her lower lip. “What does it matter to you!” “Ponygirls aren’t allowed to run around without a goblin. You’re a runaway, you escaped from your owner! You belong to Oozol, don’t you?” Izzy pushed her nose closer to Maria curiously. “Owner, pah. But no, I’ve never heard of him. My owner,” she spat snidely on the ground, “rode me here from the east. You have no idea what that’s like. I’ll never do that again. Why should I? Women aren’t animals!” “But you are his.” “Humans don’t belong to anyone.” It got louder outside the house, the voices of men could be heard. “Please don’t give me away.” Izzy walked wordlessly to the door and looked to see who had come. To her surprise, it wasn’t goblins, but some merchants from the village. She knew the men, they had all always been nice to her. “Hello Isabel,” said the watchmaker Sigismer, who had grown particularly fond of her. “We’re looking for a girl who may have strayed to you. Have you seen one?” “Why are you looking for her?” asked Izzy innocently. “She ran away. We just want to bring her back, so everything is in order again.” “Is she a ponygirl?” “That’s right. She attacked her owner and ran off. We can’t allow that, we all must respect the law. And she’s the property of a goblin. Have you seen her?” Izzy nodded and pointed to the door. The men went into the room and pulled the struggling young woman out. To Izzy’s great shock, Maria screamed terribly; she struggled against the men, but they were too strong. They took off her clothes and tied her up until she could only squirm like a worm. Whenever she struggled too much, the otherwise friendly men slapped her on the bum — the clapping echoed throughout the forest and made Maria whimper even more. Izzy stood intimidated at the door and watched everything. The last thing they did was to tie a bridle around the girl’s head and shove a horse bit into her mouth, which also made her lose her voice. Izzy trembled and made herself smaller and smaller in the doorway. Maria stared at her from behind the watchmaker as tears streamed down her face. “You don’t need to be afraid, Isabel, we’ll just get her back to her owner. Then everything will be fine. She’ll soon be a good horse again and will serve her owner well. She won’t escape him a second time and bother you, I promise you that. If you like, you can feed her later.” Izzy shook her head quickly and closed the door and windows. She only looked through a small crack and watched as the men and their prey disappeared into the forest. — Izzy saw Maria days later on a local road. Her owner was sitting high in his saddle, while the girl had deep red welts all over her body. She looked at Izzy with a sad expression while her rider drove her forward with a whip. Now that Izzy thought about it, that must have been the moment she no longer wanted anything to do with ponygirls. She had avoided them in the past, too, but since that day she had actively shunned them. How could she have forgotten that? Or had she repressed it? Whatever the case, one thing had certainly become clear on that day: Once you were a ponygirl, you would stay one. There was no escape, the brand, and registration were final, after that, humans and goblins would always bring her back to her owner; there was no escaping your own skin. Izzy wasn’t sure how close she had come to that future, but for now, she had a goblin on her back, leading her through the forest with reins, and she had to decide what to do next. But first Saxea had to get home, and to Izzy’s relief the forest finally opened up and the lake appeared before them. They ran around the water and tramped up the path to the farmyard, where some goblins — including Oozol — were already waiting. “They’ve found Saxea!” shouted Pexo and Oozol rushed forwards. Sunshine placed the girl at her feet. “Wash the two horses and take them to their stables,” Oozol ordered, after which he only cared for his daughter. Grall also had only eyes for his sister, neither of them noticed Izzy’s silent complaint, but she was actually too tired to go home and tolerated the renewed humiliation if she could at least sleep quickly — even if her bed was made of straw tonight. Sunshine also endured it in silence. She was immediately given a horse bit and her hands were tied behind her back. This ended her brief freedom, and Izzy suspected that she would not be released as a reward either. It was unfair, but it was the goblins’ law. Izzys stared at her stable’s ceiling. Sleep was impossible, her thoughts were racing in her head and were keeping her awake — as did the increasing pressure in her bladder. She crouched down in a corner, but nothing happened. She pushed harder, but it didn’t work. Damn Grall, Izzy thought, biting down on the night bit in her mouth; how could he have trained her so well so quickly? Goblins were considered magical created creatures, but they didn’t have magic of their own, did they? — Early the next morning, the upper part of their stable door opened. Grall climbed a few steps up to the door; he was grinning all over his face. “Has my favourite horse finally had a good night’s sleep? You’re the heroine of the yard, you should be proud of yourself!” Izzy, however, stood prancing in a corner and squeezed her legs together. That wasn’t necessary — after all, urinating was her problem to begin with — but at least it took some pressure away. She hoped that he would finally open the door so that she could at least go behind the stable, but Grall didn’t think that was necessary. Grall laughed and nodded. “I see, I’m sorry. Squat down, please.” Izzy almost dropped. “Rhida Kess!” Izzy didn’t care that someone was watching her this time, the feeling of relief was indescribable. Here we go then, she thought, but tomorrow it has to happen without him! Meanwhile, Grall opened the stable door and once Izzy was ready, he gestured her over, avoiding going into the stable himself. He attached a leash and led her across the yard, giving Pexo an embarrassing order: “Buttercup has flooded her stable. Please dry it out quickly, or we’ll all get wet feet.” Izzy neighed in displeasure, but her friend clearly enjoyed teasing her. Even some of the other horses were also giggling in their stalls. “I know you didn’t want to be a ponygirl any more, but you were really great this night,” he said, picking up her saddle from the shed. “You were just born for this. Without you, my sister would be dead right now.” He put the saddle on her back, and Izzy winced from the feel of it. To her surprise, he took the horse bit out of her mouth. “Is it all right with you if we go for another ride today? As a farewell?” Izzy hesitated. Was this really what she wanted? Where had all the anger from yesterday gone? Was it because of the stable, or Sunshine, who had decided in favour of Saxea and against freedom? She grumbled. “All right, one last ride. But don’t overdo it!” Grall smiled and hurriedly put the other parts on her as well. A new horse bit went into her mouth, followed by reins and boots. He then led her to Oozol, who was standing next to Saxea and Sunshine. Saxea seemed to have survived the night well and Sunshine was back in her role. The two of them seemed like a good team, and at least it had become clear that night that they could trust Sunshine, Izzy thought. “There’s our heroine. Buttercup, you’ve done well.” He patted her on the bottom and offered her a treat, which she ate greedily from his hand. She still hated being fed, but the treats had really grown on her and she was willing to endure a little humiliation for them. It was an addictive flavour, and she hummed contentedly as the sweet melted in her mouth. “Sunshine, too, of course. After the last trouble, I was actually going to sell her, but Saxea made it clear to me that I should think twice about it.” He pinched his daughter’s cheek. “Besides, Sunshine has done well. Few ponygirls other than Buttercup come back once they’ve been free. Actually, I only know Buttercup otherwise. Most girls would never voluntarily wear a saddle or a bit.” Izzy was almost in tears with shame. What was meant as praise struck deep into her heart. She turned away hastily so that no one would notice her trembling. “Grall, you should ask her father for his approval, you shouldn’t keep a girl like Izzy waiting unnecessarily, don’t you think?” Izzy looked at him, confused. What kind of approval? Was it what she thought he meant? No, that was unthinkable! There was no such “bond” between humans and goblins. No goblin had ever asked a human girl to marry him. And besides, she didn’t like Grall in THAT way. Grall fidgeted. “No, I can’t do that… It’s not the right time…” “You say that now and then someone else snatches her away from you. Look at her, you’ll never find another one like her.” Sunshine giggled in the background, and Izzy tried to give her a dirty look, but couldn’t do it. All she managed was a puzzled look while her best friend and his dad talked about her like that. “What if he says no.” Oozol laughed. “You won’t know until you ask him. He’s a modern man who knows us goblins well. If anyone says yes to this union, it will be him.” Grall hesitated further. “And if she doesn’t want to?” “You young people are strange. Since when does it matter? Every so often, you have to take what you want.” He patted Izzy on the bum and Sunshine almost fell over laughing. Izzy snorted. Goblins really were very unromantic. Where the heck were we when a girl had no say in her wedding? She had thought about it for a second — her mind had also wandered to Grall’s finger between her thighs — but no more. That was simply outrageous! She stomped off angrily. “Fine, I’ll ask him, but I’m sure he’ll be surprised when I try to register his daughter as a ponygirl.” This turn of events not only literally knocked Izzy off her feet; she landed painfully in the dirt and stared up at the sky. She had gone too far after all. One last trip… my ass! — The trip didn’t take them as far as the previous ones, but as it brought them to the goblin side of the island, they remained cautious. Both were still a little exhausted from the night’s exertions, so Grall took it easy. “Let’s take a little break,” he said after half an hour. He led her deeper into the forest and stopped her in a small clearing, where he climbed out of the saddle with the stirrups and took the bit out of her mouth. “Do you really think I’m going to let you register me?” scolded Izzy. “Of course not against your will!” he defended himself. “But it doesn’t hurt to ask, does it?” Izzy snorted angrily. “You say that so easily, but nobody wants to put a brand on your ass either!” Grall ignored the accusation and spread a blanket on the floor, but Izzy just grimaced. “You don’t want me to lie down for you, do you?” “We’re in goblin country. That, or I’ll tie you to the tree there. But then we can’t talk; it would be too loud, someone might hear us. If I lie on top of you, we can still whisper a little.” “You’re a fool, Grall.” “Oh come on, surely it wasn’t that bad.” Izzy glared at him defiantly. “If you say so, I can lie on top of you, can’t I?” “If you weren’t so heavy, sure!” Laughing, he dodged her kick, which wasn’t so easy with his leg, and playfully slapped her bum. Izzy was surprised at how nimble he could be — when he wanted to be — and pushed him over with her bottom, but unfortunately for her, she knocked him sideways onto a rock. “Ouch!” he cried, his face twisted in pain and holding his ribs. “I didn’t mean to!” Izzy moaned and knelt down to him. “Is something broken?” “I don’t think so, it just hurts. You sometimes forget how strong you are,” he reminded her and stroked her face, wiping away a small tear. “Don’t think I’d take advantage of it, but it would be really nice to lie on something soft right now.” His words came in little bursts whenever he got some air. Izzy rolled her eyes. “I suppose I owe you that. But this is still an exception!” Grall nodded, removed the saddle and allowed himself a quick “Grexipel!” for which Izzy would have liked to throw him on the stone again, and lay down on her back. “Keep your fingers to yourself; you can put your head on my breasts, but nobody said anything about touching me! There was that strange feeling again when he lay on top of her. She looked at him and gave him a little kiss on the forehead. “What was that for?” he asked in surprise. “A little apology.” Obviously heartened by the gesture, he reached for a breast and pressed it to himself as a pillow. As expected, Izzy said nothing in response. “I could sleep like this every night,” he said dreamily, almost falling into a half-sleep. “Then you’ll just have to find your own ponygirl for it. You can forget that with me!” “You mean like Sunshine? She’d bite my head off if I tried… No, you’re the only ponygirl I want. You know that!” “Where does Sunshine actually come from?” Izzy asked after they had both been quiet for a while. “She’s from somewhere far away, right?” “Probably. Some ponygirls come from breeding, but you’d be surprised how many goblins don’t want to ride a horse like that. It’s something we don’t really like to talk about, but most goblins want a captive ponygirl. They are considered more natural. It’s a matter of faith. Our great book says that humans were created by the gods as a gift to serve the goblins, and it’s our right and duty to make your kind our own.” Izzy shuddered. “I don’t believe that, of course!” he added quickly. “I wouldn’t do that to you!” “Good because I’m not your ponygirl!” Izzy rolled her eyes. “It’s not good for a ponygirl to be ridden where she was caught. It just gets people in trouble. So they sell them far away where nobody knows them. That’s probably what happened with Sunshine.” “Will she ever get home again? “Her home is here now,” he said quietly. “Luckily, we found her in time with Saxea. Speaking of which: I saw a ruin there during the night. Not big, but we should have a look at it. I’m sure the wolves won’t dare come near you again. And if they do, I have a surprise for them!” He pulled a long knife out of his jacket, which made Izzy a little nervous. “Impressive, certainly looks good next to your bitten-off arm,” she mocked. A wolf was twice the size of Grall, even with a knife he wouldn’t stand a chance, she was sure of that. “Fine, let’s ride there. But if I hear a wolf, I’m off! I’ve never seen wolves react where.” “That was down to me. Animals don’t like us, you know that. Most of them just flee from us, but some attack us; they go into a real rage. Then nothing can stop them. My grandfather once tried to stroke a goat when he was drunk — it tore him to pieces. It’s not like with humans, no animal will tolerate us near them. Never. It’s flight or fight.” Grall got off her belly — giving her bosom a little kiss that made Izzy blush — put the saddle back on her and climbed onto her back. The ride was slow and uneventful, and luckily for her, there wasn’t a wolf to be seen — or heard — anywhere. The forest was generally quiet and peaceful, with only a few birds chirping in the branches, a few squirrels running up the trees and the occasional deer peering between the bushes. Compared to the stress of the previous night, it was paradise. Afterwards, they rode on in silence. The ruins were hardly worth mentioning, but for today Izzy was content with that; it was good to have a lazy day for once. — Izzy was lost in her thoughts as they rode back to the farm and relied entirely on the reins, as she was used to doing by now. She only had to move her legs, with Grall leading the way. It was almost liberating, but above all it gave her enough time to think about her future; regardless of what she did, she always ended up as a ponygirl. This could not and could not go on like that. Hardly anyone knew about it yet, but it was only a matter of time before word got around. The road surface changed to the loose sand of a dirt track, and Izzy looked up briefly. Her heart stopped when she saw her father in front of his hut. He was looking at her with interest; his expression was difficult to read. Izzy’s eyes were wide open, her mouth was hanging down and only the bridle held the bit in her mouth. Grall steered her in front of her father and nodded to the man, whom he could look directly in the eye for the first time ever. Izzy, on the other hand, just stared at the ground, which, as before, simply refused to open for her. She stomped angrily, but it still didn’t do her the favour. She waited nervously for her father to make a sound. Her heart was pounding nervously, but she also felt a small glimmer of hope. What if he simply banned the entire thing? Then Izzy wouldn’t have to solve the problem herself. It wasn’t very heroic, but at least it would be over. “Hope you had a nice ride. Was my angel good?” her father said, ruffling her mane. His gaze flitted over her tax tag and for a moment he raised an eyebrow. Izzy’s eyes twitched upwards. How could he react so calmly to his daughter being tied up and ridden by a goblin? She snorted angrily. No one could be relied on any more! “She was wonderful, as always.” Grall stroked her head, and Izzy would have liked to bite his fingers off in return. Matheus nodded. “You can imagine my surprise when Oozol told me about Saxea’s rescue and Isabel’s part in it. Children… you never know what they’ll think of next. But now that I see you together, it all makes sense, you make a good pair. It’s rare to see a horse so well suited to its rider.” Izzy blushed. “It’s all voluntary, isn’t it? Oozol is a good friend, but he’s merciless when it comes to business.” “Of course, am I right, Izzy?” She bit her lip. Did she really have to tell that? Of course, it was the truth — no one had forced her to, at best there had been misunderstandings — but it still felt strange to tell her father that she had allowed herself to be turned into an animal without much resistance. They both looked at her expectantly, then Izzy nodded slowly. “Excellent. As long as it’s voluntary, I won’t stand in your way,” he said, patting Izzy on the head. He’d done that before, but now it felt different — like a beloved pet, and she hated it. Grall shifted nervously in the saddle. “There’s something else I want to ask you. “Do you want to come in? How do you do it, do you want Izzy in the stable until then or…?” Izzy glared angrily at her father. She knew he was not against goblin traditions, but this was going a little too far! “No, no, she should be joining us. It’s also about Buttercup.” Don’t use that name, Izzy wanted to scream, but with the horse bit in her mouth, it wasn’t possible. “Buttercup?” her father asked, raising an eyebrow; and for a moment his gaze seemed to wander into the distance. “I mean Izzy.” “You call her Buttercup?” He smiled. “That’s nice.” There was a dreamy glamour in his eyes. Grall searched in his pockets and showed Izzy’s father a gold ring of some kind. Izzy’s father’s eyes widened, not in shock, but in amazement. “This is a big thing you’re planning.” Grall nodded. “That’s why I’ve come to you. I want to ask you for your daughter to be my ponygirl.” This time, Izzy shook herself and neighed. “She’s a bit nervous, but the nose ring would suit her well! “Seems like she’s not quite ready,” her father remarked, and Izzy nodded. “You have my blessing, but you’ll have to get permission from your horse.” Izzy blushed again. It felt strange when he called her that. “All right, but one thing at a time,” Grall said, smiling. “She already has her own stable with us.” He patted Izzy on the flank and took back the nose ring. “I have a ring for me, too.” “This bond is for life, you know that, right?” asked Izzy’s father. “You wouldn’t even be allowed to sell her, even if she can no longer be ridden. You’d have to look after her for the rest of her life; it’s very different to just buying a horse. Think it through, it’s not a small step. For both of you.” He looked deep into his daughter’s eyes. “Come to think of it, we should have a father/daughter talk. There are some things I need to talk to her about. You can leave her here and I’ll send her to the farm tomorrow with the gear.” “Okay,” Grall said, and dismounted after a short “Tack” — which nearly drove Izzy mad. He limped off and looked back at Izzy from a distance. “She needs help with… well… she listens to Rhida Kess!” he stammered, before hastily disappearing behind the trees. It was one of those moments when she would have liked to twist his neck. To Izzy’s great surprise, her father was clearly very skilful at undressing a ponygirl. Every move was spot on, and it only took a few minutes before she was standing naked in front of him. As expected, she was very embarrassed, but he didn’t even seem to mind. He handed her a sponge and water — there was nothing else in the hut anyway — and let her wash herself. At least he spared her this humiliation. Then he handed her a dress and they sat down together in the kitchen. The oven was already glowing and spread a cosy warmth throughout the small room. “It’s not what it looks like!” Izzy blurted out when she finally found the courage to open her mouth, but her father only raised his hand. “You don’t have to explain yourself or be ashamed. But I want to make sure that no one forces you to do this. How did it even start?” Izzy gave a detailed account of everything that had happened in the last few days — only she preferred to omit her more private feelings. Apart from that, she put everything on the table, even her annoyance about the peeing. Her father listened in silence, nodding occasionally and grumbling. After Izzy had finished, she waited anxiously for his reaction. “You’re a wonderful friend to him. I don’t think anyone else would have done something like this. But I’m not surprised either … I should have seen it coming.” He picked up a glass and poured himself a whisky. Izzy watched as he poured himself a second and third glass. He wasn’t really much of a drinker, but she couldn’t blame him. He took her hand and led her out into the stable, which Izzy hadn’t often entered as a child. They had no animals, and nothing that had ever lived in the stable. Her father never went there either, but now he did, and Izzy was nervous about what he was going to show her. The whole world seemed to have become a little more intense — she felt the wind in her hair, the small stones on the path digging into the soles and a very subtle smell of sea salt that carried from the distant shore to her cottage. But her eyes were fixed on the darkness of the stable in front of her. Her father lit a large candle and placed it on the windowsill. The stable was as always — empty. There was some old straw on the floor, but that was all there was to see. Or so Izzy thought, until her father bent down, pushed the straw aside and opened a secret cellar. Izzy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. The room was dark and not big, but what she saw from above on the shelves and on the wall took her breath away: it was the gear of a ponygirl! “Wait up here.” He climbed down a shaky ladder into the cellar and brought up a wide saddle. Izzy knew, of course, that it wasn’t made for a human to ride on, but then what was her father doing with it? She picked it up reluctantly and immediately realised that it was of very high quality, even better than her own. The stitching was gilded and there was even an elaborate coat of arms in one place, as befitted a king. She turned the saddle, and her heart stopped when she read a name on it: “Buttercup!” “Y-you have a saddle for me?” stuttered Izzy, taking a startled step back. How far did this madness go? He shook his head and grabbed Izzy’s shoulders. She had never seen him so upset. “No, Isabel. That was your mother’s saddle! In the past Fog covered the narrow streets of Xedelia, the capital of the goblin kingdom of Hawa. Dark blood streamed down the cobblestones; like a small river, it ran from high above from the King’s castle down to the quarters of his impoverished subjects. Matheus shuddered and wrapped his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “Forward, soldier,” ordered the commander, who along with him was the only survivor from their company. The goblins may be small, but they were fearsome, fast fighters who could take a man by surprise with their superior numbers and tear him to pieces. “We’re almost there. We’ll gather with the others in front of the castle and finally put this pointless war behind us!” Matheus nodded. He hadn’t seen his homeland for three years. He had almost been a child when the soldiers had dragged him out of his house and thrown him on the cart. His mother’s screams still kept him awake every night — when it wasn’t the horrors of war he had encountered. Just a little peace and beauty in this cruel world, that was all he wished for, but all it presented him with were blood and death. The commander pushed him onwards, past burnt out houses and things Matheus preferred not to even look at. A few larger shadows darted past in the distance. “Get back!” the commander ordered, pushing him into a doorway. “Goblins?” Matheus asked quietly. “With their horses.” The commander spat on the ground. Matheus knew all too well how he felt about the ponygirls. It was one of the worst things about this war: not only did they have to slaughter their enemies, but often these innocent girls and women died, forced into cruel slave labour as mounts by these little green monsters. What a terrible fate, Matheus thought: tied up all day, controlled by a petty demon and treated like an animal. What had these girls done to be tortured like this? Perhaps their swords were a salvation for the girls, but they couldn’t show any mercy anyway. When a ponygirl and her rider approached them, they had to act, one way or another. Their blood also flowed down the street that day. After the goblins had ridden on, Matheus sneaked on with his commander. The town was already almost conquered, but the goblins fought to their last breath. There was no defeat for them, only death. That was also what made them such formidable opponents, there was no negotiation, no dialogue — only screams, weapons, and war. Who had started this madness was long forgotten. The war had been going on for many years, and in the end nobody cared. The only question many soldiers asked was whether it was possible to win at all. A loud horn sounded and Matheus looked up at the palace with wide eyes. The goblins’ flag was lowered, and a new flag was waving in the wind: it was that of his king. So they had won after all! “Don’t rejoice too soon,” warned the commander. “You can still die in this shithole. One goblin is all it takes.” They walked on and came across a group of soldiers running down from the hill. “The king is dead?” The first soldier shook his head. “That would be nice. We’ve taken the castle and most of the goblins are dead; all his guards are spread out in many small pieces in the throne room. We have the old king’s head, but his son — the prince — has escaped. He is now the new king, and will continue the fight if we don’t catch him. We send seekers in all directions, but he had a ponygirl with him. She looked fast — if we’re unlucky, he’ll be over the border into Potsch in a few days. Their goblin ruler will surely harbour him.” “But I want to go home,” Matheus pleaded, and the other soldiers nodded. “When will this be over?” “When they’re all dead, or we get a peace after all. But with goblins? Unlikely. Go back to the camp, you’ll get new instructions there.” — The camp was outside the city, which was now ablaze. Nothing was to be left of Xedelia, that was the order — and so it was done. But that was not the end of it, the king was still on the run, as Matheus learnt. “Tomorrow, you’ll search the forest in groups of two, maybe we’ll be lucky and he hasn’t got as far as we fear. And if that’s not the case, then you’ve had a nice walk.” Matheus raised his hand. “What do you want to know?” Matheus cleared his throat. “Did any of those… ponygirls survive?” Some of the soldiers laughed. “Try to concentrate on your task and you’ll have more blood in your head.” “No, I mean… they were victims of the goblins too, weren’t they? Did we at least save a few?” No one laughed any more. “No, none. Most of them fell in battle, we gave them an honourable burial. We managed to capture a few alive, but they wanted nothing to do with us. They attacked us, some chose to protect their goblin rather than help us. We had no choice.” “Not a single one?” The soldier shook his head. “Not a single one. I guess the goblins know how to deal with the ponygirls. Maybe they’re not used to a different life. Or maybe they fear us even more than those little monsters.” Another soldier raised a glass. “Then these ponygirls are smarter than I thought. I bet we’d ride them even better than those goblins — if you know what I mean.” Most of the soldiers understood very well, and apart from Matheus, they all laughed. — A cold wind swept through the dense forest. It was not strange for Matheus, this forest was the first familiar sight he had seen in months — it looked exactly like the forest back home; it was the same trees, bushes, and plants. Even the birds could have originated from his forest. Their journey to Xedelia had taken him out of his forest and through deserts, over mountains, along the sea and through deep valleys. He had never realised how big the island really was and how much there was to see. But a war was not the right time to marvel at nature. Even now, Matheus barely had an eye for the beauty of the world — what was a goblin king like, Matheus mused. Like a normal goblin with a crown, or was it a separate species? Perhaps such a goblin looked entirely different. But he couldn’t shake off another thought: what would happen if they found him? They said they wanted him dead or alive, but the commander had only winked at “alive”. So dead it was. But what about the ponygirl? The soldiers’ words still sent a shiver down his spine. They crept on and came to two large rocks that formed the entrance to a small valley, like a portal in the middle of nature. They scurried up and, to their surprise, saw a human tied to a tree. A ponygirl! Matheus gulped. She was beautiful, at least to his taste. Most people would have described her as crude, but Matheus had never cared for porcelain dolls. Her strong legs stood securely on the ground while her mane fluttered in the wind. Her hands were hidden under her saddle, while her feet were in high pony boots. She turned to the two men and, as expected, a broad horse bit was stuck in her mouth. “Be careful, there will be a goblin around here somewhere.” Matheus nodded. He went through the gap first — it was just wide enough for him to squeeze through — and studied the surroundings, but all was silent. His companion followed him, but he was barely in the narrow passage when a goblin leapt out of the shadows above them and killed the man. Matheus jumped back and drew his sword. It was old and rusty, but that was all he had as a soldier, only the officers had decent blades. The goblin skilfully rolled off the corpse and held his sword in front of him. To a human, it would have been just a knife, but on a goblin it looked large — and very sharp. It was a quality blade, better than any steel Matheus had seen in this war. “You’re the prince, or king now, am I right?” asked Matheus. “And you’re about to be dead. You humans are getting on my nerves. What have we done to you that you can’t leave us in peace? Is it just the ponygirls? Then why are you slaughtering them too? They’re innocent!” “You started this war!” shouted Matheus, although he was far from sure. “Do you really believe that? Why should we, or are you believing that we are winning? Your kind wouldn’t even talk to us. Destroy just want to destroy us, that’s all. But what do I tell you, in the afterlife you can ask your comrades about it yourself!” The goblin king leapt forward and missed Matheus by a hair’s breadth. Their blades crossed on the next blow, cutting Matheus’ sword deeply. “If you surrender, I will kill you quickly and painlessly. Your people weren’t that generous to mine!” Matheus dodged again, using his quicker legs. Goblins were nimble with their arms, and their light weight meant they could survive impressive falls, but they were inferior to humans when it came to running. He sprinted to the ponygirl and cut through her reins. “Run away!” Matheus shouted, but the ponygirl just looked at him with wide eyes and stayed put. “Fool, she will never leave my side. Buttercup is a royal mare. The last horse you didn’t murder.” “I haven’t killed anyone who didn’t attack me first!” The king laughed. “Good for you. But that doesn’t change anything.” The next blow hit Matheus’ sword again. He took a step back and stumbled over the ponygirl’s outstretched leg. He only managed to save himself from the goblin’s blade with a quick roll. “Don’t do that, you’re human too!” hissed Matheus, but the ponygirl only neighed. “How about a compromise: you run away and I’ll chase you with Buttercup. If you’re faster, you can go. If not, you’ll pay the price for your cruelty.” The goblin spread his arms and grinned broadly, but there was one thing he hadn’t considered: a soldier had more than one weapon. Matheus pulled a small knife from a pocket behind his back and threw it at the goblin so quickly and skilfully that the goblin fell over backwards with the grin still on his face. Before Matheus could approach the corpse, the ponygirl pushed him aside and threw herself over the fallen king. It was a heartbreaking sight, had it not been so repulsive to Matheus at the same time. She was human, weeping for her slave master; was it just habit that made her do it? “I’m sorry, but I had to do it. You heard him.” He carefully approached the bound girl — actually more of a young woman, he realised. She wasn’t listening and seemed to have completely forgotten about him. “What am I going to do with you? If I take you to the others, you’ll probably suffer a fate almost worse than death. If it’s true and you were one of the king’s special ponygirls, you won’t be treated well.” Buttercup — as Matheus remembered the king had called her — turned to him and glared at him hatefully. “If you promise not to scream, I’ll take the horse bit out of your mouth.” Her eyes continued to burn like fire. He came closer and after a few attempts managed to remove the horse bit. “What’s your real name?” She looked at him blankly. Her jaw moved back and forth as if she hadn’t been without her bit for a long time. Matheus waited for her to speak, but she remained silent. “You can’t talk at all, can you? But do you understand me?” The young woman nodded slowly. “At least something. Where did they catch you… I mean, are you from far away?” Buttercup tilted her head and looked at him like he was a terrible fool — which probably wasn’t far from the truth at that point. “You’re from here? Are you,” he hesitated, using that word for a human seemed fundamentally wrong, “from a breeding farm?” The girl nodded, and Matheus dropped to the dirt. Humans who were bred. Until now, he had thought it was a fairy tale to make the goblins look even more like monsters, but so it was true. What other surprises did this war have in store? “You don’t need to be afraid any more. I will take you to a safe place where no one can harm you.” Buttercup’s gaze wandered back to the king. “But first we’ll bury your goblin.” — “And then you went home and you married her?” asked Izzy after her father had taken a long break. He was visibly exhausted by the story. “It wasn’t that simple. The war wasn’t over yet, and as a soldier, you can’t just leave the battlefield when it suits you. It made no difference that the king was dead — or rather, the young king. It was not for me to decide the end of the war. Then there was your mother: the prince had grown up with her, which is another reason why his death was such a shock to her. From what she told me, their relationship was similar to yours and Grall’s, except she was officially a ponygirl from birth.” “But I’m not his ponygirl.” “At least earlier, you were one.” Izzy made a face but said nothing. “Can you imagine how difficult it is to get from there to our home if you desert? No, you can’t. And I’m grateful for that. But I can tell you a few things, including how I met Oozol.” Izzy nodded and sat back down in the straw while her father walked around the small stable, remembering. — “What’s wrong?” asked Matheus as he held Buttercup’s reins. It was still strange to lead her with them, but it had soon become clear that there was no way round it. She was a ponygirl all her life; she trembled as soon as he took the saddle and bridle off her. It seemed to him that she was afraid of the world without her gear, almost as if the freedom threatened her. The bridle had become a part of her personality, and he quickly realised that she felt as naked without her ponygirl gear as he would without his trousers. But since they were in great danger, it appeared wiser to him to postpone the solution of this problem until later, and to put as much distance as possible between himself and the other soldiers for now. But that was no easy matter; he knew from the officer’s descriptions that soldiers were looking for the king everywhere. It was only a matter of time before they ran into a troop — there was no doubt that he would be recognised immediately as a deserter, and then Buttercup would be done for. He looked back at her and blushed. A ponygirls clothes hid little, especially the things that mattered. Especially her… — Izzy interrupted her father. “You don’t have to tell EVERYTHING!” She had gone pale. Of course, she realised how others saw a half-naked ponygirl, but she really didn’t want to know what her father thought about her mother’s body. That was just disgusting. Old people shouldn’t be allowed to have such thoughts, not even in the past! “Well, let me put it this way: it was love at first sight. First the primitive kind, but later the real one.” “Go on. PLEASE!” Matheus smiled, clearly taking some pleasure in teasing his daughter about it. It was one of the few pleasures that all parents shared. — To his surprise, Buttercup didn’t seem to be cold despite the thin clothing. He offered her his coat several times, but she always refused — and he guessed that she thought he needed it more, even though he was already wearing trousers, a shirt and a vest. He led her further through the forest; for hours they walked crouched through the undergrowth, always careful to avoid any major path. It was a strange mixture of the absolute peacefulness of nature and the horror that hid somewhere behind it. Buttercup was nervous too; she may have been a ponygirl, but she seemed to understand exactly what was at stake. She made no unnecessary noises as she trotted across the dry leaves in her hoof boots. It was an impressive sight to see how elegantly the ponygirl ran through the forest despite the heavy constriction. But a few hours later, Matheus noticed a tug on the reins. Buttercup neighed softly and led him behind a large tree. She squeezed her legs together and pranced around slightly. “What do you want?” asked Matheus. His thoughts were all about their escape, and he overlooked the obvious. “Come on, we’re far from safe.” He wanted to move on, but Buttercup refused. She crouched down and looked him straight in the eye. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” Matheus blushed all over as he released Buttercup from the strap between her legs. He turned around, but Buttercup just neighed again. “Go on, we don’t have time!” — Izzy giggled. “You really had no idea, did you?” “Not the slightest. You’ll let me know if you… you know…?” “Don’t you dare to say it!” Izzy bit her tongue. “Maybe later…” Matheus laughed. “Let me continue, now comes the important part!” — Buttercup wriggled around, but Matheus had no idea what was wrong. His eyes wandered past the trees with concern. They shouldn’t stay here too long, otherwise the danger of being found was far too great. A soft giggle made them both freeze. They looked around, but they were alone. Someone giggled again. Buttercup and Matheus stared at each other, then both raised their heads at the same time. Their gazes locked on a goblin hanging upside down from a rope above them. The goblin put his hand over his mouth, but his eyes were already watering with laughter and he couldn’t hold back the sniggering. “How does a fool like you get a fine specimen of a ponygirl like that? Isn’t that one of our prince’s saddles? Oh, you’re in big trouble! Soldier or not, this won’t end well!” “Shut up, we’ll be heard. Do you think you’ll be spared then?” “Oh, and you will? You’re a soldier of the humans, what have I got to lose? But thank you for this little show, you’ve given a doomed man a last reason to laugh.” Matheus rolled his eyes. “If you know what her problem is, why don’t you say so?” “What good would it do me?” “Your life.” The goblin laughed snidely. “You humans are all liars. You’d just take me to your commander, who’d cut off my ears and then my head.” “You’d have to get in line, my head would roll first,” Matheus said, running his finger along his throat. “What’s your name? “Oozol. And you, what is your name, and what have you done to be so unpopular with your own kind?” Matheus told him what had happened, and the goblin fell silent. “Then all is lost. Our king was a terrible fool, but his son — the prince — was a good goblin. But that’s war, I suppose, the good and the bad die. Let me down and I’ll help you.” “First tell me what’s wrong with the ponygirl. “Fine. She wants to pee, but a ponygirl can only do it if she’s allowed to. You’re her master now — after all, you killed her owner and claimed her — so you have to let her.” “I freed her!” “Looks to me like she’s still a ponygirl.” Oozol shrugged his shoulders as best he could while upside down. “Here’s what you need to say: Rhida Kess. Then it’ll work.” Buttercup looked at him suffering, she had heard the words but was waiting for Matheus to say them. “Rhida Kess,” he said, and immediately the forest floor got damp. He looked away and instead searched for the end of the rope that hung Oozol from the tree. It had been thrown over a high branch and knotted at the bottom of the tree trunk. The knot was quickly undone with the knife, and Matheus carefully lowered the goblin down. Before Oozol could do anything, Matheus tied his arms behind his back and fastened a rope between his legs so that he couldn’t run away. “What are you doing, I helped you!” “That’s why you’re still alive. Nobody said anything about freedom. Maybe later, when I trust you — if I ever trust you. I grew up with a dog who could judge people very well; and like all animals, he couldn’t stand you goblins. Without a lead, he would have torn any of you to shreds. What is it about you that animals hate you so much… For now, you stay with us, I can make good use of your knowledge.” Oozol spat on the ground. “How do I know you won’t end up handing me over to your soldier friends? I’ve seen what they do to goblins, you might as well kill me.” As the two argued, Buttercup paced nervously around them. It was obvious that she wasn’t comfortable and was waiting for a new order. “Zhrak!” the goblin shouted, and Buttercup dropped to her knees and bowed her head. “What are you doing?” hissed Matheus. “She was restless, I ordered her to sit down. You know, like dogs. Sit, stay and so on. That will calm her down. She won’t run around again until we tell her to.” “Don’t do that, she’s not an animal!” Oozol laughed. “You humans really don’t understand ponygirls. So, what’s next?” “As soon as we’re safe, you can go. I can’t offer you anything more than my word. How do you know so much about ponygirls?” The goblin stared angrily up at Matheus, but eventually, he grunted and answered. “My father traded ponygirls, it runs in our family. Can I have the ponygirl when we’re safe?” “No. And your arms will stay tied until I no longer need you. Otherwise, you’ll ride off on her. Isn’t that what you want, am I right?” To Matheus’ surprise, Oozol nodded. “That’s what they’re there for. It would get me to safety quickly. Don’t kid yourself, you’re the reason we’ve been in danger here for so long. Without you, we’d have been up and gone already.” Matheus paid him no further attention; he took Buttercup’s reins and led the way. “Come along, or are you going to wait here for the soldiers?” Oozol grumbled and followed them. “You’ll lead us at night, then we’ll see how good your eyes really are.” — The next few days remained quiet. With Oozol’s help, they managed to get past the humans unseen at night and made good progress. Although they were in goblin country, they only met a few of Oozol’s kind, and to Matheus’ surprise, he also led them past them, although the humans often only noticed them when they had already left the troop of greenskins behind. On the fourth day, Matheus thought he had seen a human village and ventured forth alone from the others, but the humans there turned out to be nothing but ponygirls and stallions. He crept back slowly, but his heart froze at the sight of his king’s soldiers with their boots on Oozol and Buttercup’s necks. With a leap, he hid behind a tree and nervously surveyed the situation. “What have we caught here: a goblin and his ponygirl. Disgusting. Rotten. But that won’t be a problem for much longer,” said the taller of the two men. “Last words, greenling?” Oozol rattled, obviously the man was squeezing the air out of him with his heavy boot. Buttercup was also turning blue. Matheus drew his sword, but a loud growl stopped him. A large dog had crept up behind him and bared its teeth. Before he could bite, his master called him: “Brutus, to me! We’ve got a little fun for you while we’re having ours.” The dog howled and ignored his easy prey, but as soon as he got close to the goblin, he almost went into a frenzy. The big man grabbed the dog and barely managed to stop it from tearing Oozol apart on the spot. The sword in Matheus’ hand gleamed in the sun; it was clean and reflected the warm rays on the weathered tree bark. But Matheus knew that was about to change. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and for a brief moment savoured the songs of the birds in the trees and the gentle breeze that would blow through his hair for perhaps the last time in his life. The little moments were often so precious and simply not honoured enough, he thought, before leaping forward with a long jump and striking the big man’s head off his shoulders. The man’s hands tightened around the dog’s collar, holding him down as Oozol struggled to free himself from under the powerless boot. But the second soldier was not so easily defeated, he also drew his sword and a fierce fight broke out. He silenced Buttercup with a swift kick to the head, then crossed swords with Matheus. The noise of battle raged through the forest and most of the animals fled, only the dog tugged wildly at his collar to pounce furiously on Oozol. The swords cut deep gashes and sparks flew with each clash, but neither fighter gained the upper hand — they were evenly matched, and only chance could help one of them to victory; chance or a ponygirl which had awoken and kicked an attacker hard right into Matheus’ blade. The man gurgled blood, then the spark of life in his eyes extinguished just as the dog managed to free himself from his dead master’s grip. “Please don’t leave me behind!” pleaded Oozol. Matheus looked at Buttercup, but she only nudged him with her head in Oozol’s direction. Matheus nodded. He jumped at the goblin and skilfully cut his bonds before they both dodged the dog, who only had eyes for Oozol. With a quick grab, Matheus pulled the knife from its sheath and tossed it to Oozol. The dog turned around on the spot — in a blind rage, it charged forward and ran straight into Oozol’s waiting blade. Matheus and Oozol fell exhausted into the dirt. They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long time, neither of them saying a word as Buttercup watched them wait. She pawed nervously with her hoof shoes, but eventually the two men shook hands. “You killed people of your kind for me,” Oozol said quietly. “Actually, I did it for Buttercup. But I know people like those two. They’re almost worse than the war itself. If they had survived it, they would have brought the horror of war with them to their families. No, it’s better this way. Believe me.” Oozol was silent, but then he asked: “Where do you actually want to go?” He spat some blood on the ground. “Only to the west. Somewhere where I don’t have to be afraid of goblins. Or humans, like these two. And what were you doing in the forest?” “I just wanted to get away, somewhere where I wouldn’t have to be afraid of you giants any more.” They were both silent for a moment. “But it looks like this isn’t the right place yet. The war is too close.” “The war can’t go on forever. Anger and hatred eat away at a soul.” Oozol handed him the knife. “Thank you.” “Keep it. Just don’t cut my neck in my sleep, all right?” “Could you do without a few fingers?” They both laughed, and Matheus guessed that he no longer had to be afraid of this goblin. — Their journey took many weeks, during which they managed to escape the dangers of war through cunning, prudence, and a lot of luck. They were only days away from their future home when Oozol crept back through the darkness of the moonless night, bringing news with him. He snuck up to the ancient ruins and — once he was sure no one was following him — walked along the collapsed walls and squeezed past the statue of a fat goblin king with a broken nose from times bygone. “What have you found? Have we finally put the war behind us? Tell me, Oozol!” asked Matheus excitedly. They hadn’t met any soldiers — humans or goblins — for a few days now, and slowly he allowed himself a little hope in these cruel times. “Tell. Oozol. Tell!” Buttercup also squeaked. It still seemed unusual for Oozol to hear a royal mare speak, but Matheus had insisted that she learn to talk. It had not been easy, after all, she had spent her life listening at best, but never saying anything herself. The first words came slowly and with effort, but like a small child imitating its parents, Buttercup had become good at mimicking Matheus. She still insisted on having the horse bit in her mouth most of the time, but even she was curious enough now. Matheus smiled at her, every word was a great victory for him, and brought the woman a little closer towards her freedom. “Patience, you two, I’m telling you!” he explained, deliberately slowly, to annoy his now dearly endeared companions a little. “We’re almost safe!” He raised his hand before the cheering became too much. “At least Matheus and I are. In this part of the world — close to the border of the human world and goblin country — peace is already a reality. There’s a village a few days away where humans and goblins live in peace. That’s where we should go.” “Then what are we waiting for?” asked Matheus in surprise, who couldn’t help but notice that Oozol was looking worriedly at Buttercup. “It’s safe for you and me. But Buttercup is a ponygirl. She won’t be allowed to live free. Not the way she looks now.” He pointed to the saddle and the bridle with the bit and reins hanging down. All this had often been useful to them in the last few weeks, after all Oozol was too small and slow to keep up with the humans without Buttercup — besides, the ponygirl clearly enjoyed being ridden — but now there was a problem with that. “If you really want her to be human, she has to stop being a ponygirl.” — “She liked being ridden?” asked Izzy in surprise, blushing slightly at the thought. She herself had enjoyed a few rides, but… “It was her life. It was what she was used to. In fact, Oozol still rode her often later when she wanted to. Being useful to someone gave her life meaning. She told me it filled her with a purpose, a reason to exist. Imagine how hard it must have been for her to give up everything that had made her happy. The saddle there is not her original one, but Oozol had it made as a gift for your mother.” Izzy nodded slowly. She understood that well. It had made her feel good to help her friend when he was in need. — Buttercup neighed nervously, even though she didn’t have a horse bit in her mouth. It was probably pure habit, and yet she sounded very anxious. “It’s time,” Matheus said and put his hand on Buttercup’s shoulder. He would have liked to hold her hand too, but as so often, she had insisted on the saddle and that her hands were tied underneath. None of this was necessary, but Matheus had long since understood how much she needed these things to keep her from losing her mind. But it had to stop now. “We’ve talked about this. You deserve to be free. Nobody knows you here, you can start a new life!” “Or you can give her to me,” Oozol suggested, as he had done many times before. Buttercup also nodded eagerly. “No!” Matheus shouted far too loudly, and the others looked at him reproachfully. “No,” he repeated more quietly. “I’m walking this path with you so that we’ll all be free in the end. Including Buttercup. Freedom can be scary sometimes, but at least you should experience it. If you still want to be a ponygirl later, I won’t stop you. But you should make that choice of your own free will.” — Izzy swallowed, but she didn’t interrupt her father. — “Let’s get started,” Matheus said, and loosened the first strap from Buttercup’s saddle. She whimpered softly, even though this was not the first time her saddle had been untied. But she knew that this might be goodbye forever. Matheus lifted the saddle from her back and placed it on the ground, but Oozol hissed loudly. “That’s not the way to do it. It’s a sin to free a ponygirl. If we’re going to do it, let’s at least put the gear under the statue. Maybe that will appease our god. The statue isn’t dedicated to him, but that’s as good as it gets.” Matheus nodded and placed the saddle in a large niche beneath the statue. Then came the bridle, the reins and finally the bit. Buttercup gritted her teeth so that he couldn’t take the bit from her, but Matheus was patient and waited until her strength gave out. A tear ran down her cheek as Matheus placed the bit in the alcove. “No. No,” she begged, but Matheus just shook his head. “Did you get what I asked you for?” asked Matheus, and Oozol nodded. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a crumpled, thin summer dress. “Here, this is for you. You can still keep your boots on, nobody will see them under the dress. But we need to remove the hooves.” That was quickly done, and for the first time in weeks she was no longer announced by the tap-tap-tap of her hooves. He helped her into the dress, and although she was beautiful to him in it, he couldn’t help but notice how unhappy she looked. “I promise, you don’t have to be human if you don’t like it. I’ll take you to Oozol and you can be his ponygirl. But do you trust me, and will you try?” Buttercup nodded. “Try. Briefly.” “That’s good enough for me.” Oozol slapped his thigh. “Then it’s time for us to go to our new home. Let’s hope we can finally find peace there.” The Party Izzy looked at her father in amazement. “You’ve left a lot out. An awful lot…” “There were a few adventures and problems afterwards — your mum couldn’t even boil water! — but that’s not relevant now. The village welcomed us with open arms, and we were all able to make a new home here. No one ever knew — except Oozol and probably Grall — that your mum was a ponygirl, although I think a few suspected it. But it was also a little easier than with a normal ponygirl: the prince’s mare didn’t have to be registered or pay taxes — the privilege of the nobles. Only her brand could give her away, and her missing teeth because of the horse’s bit.” He hung the saddle on a hook and stroked it carefully. “But once, horse hunters came to our village and your mother narrowly escaped them. If anyone in the village suspected the truth, they didn’t give your mother away.” Izzy bit her lower lip. She herself had once surrendered a ponygirl… a feeling of deep shame spread through her. She had denied a poor girl the protection that her own mother had probably received. “After that, we secretly registered her to Oozol, so we were covered in an emergency. Within a few months, your mum could speak quite well; and whenever someone asked us about it, we simply explained that she was from far away and had to learn our language first. It probably convinced most people. Apart from the three of us, only old Hersia ever knew the truth for sure, but she also helped you into the world, so it was hard for us to hide the brand. However, after that, it was no longer important…” They both looked sadly into each other’s eyes. They had rarely spoken about Izzy’s mother’s death, partly because it was difficult for a child to understand that it was not their fault if their mother died in childbirth. Today Izzy was older, and understood things better, and yet she felt a burden on her that wasn’t really hers. “It would be so wonderful if she could see you today. I’m sure she would be able to give you better advice than I can on this subject. But you’ll have to make do with your old father. But as you can see, I trust Oozol and his son. To the extent that I’ll entrust you to them too, if that’s what you want.” She chewed hard on her cheek until she could taste some blood. “I’m not sure. It’s… not as bad as I thought. And somehow it’s also…” “Liberating? Your mum always told me that life as a ponygirl was more carefree. As a horse, you don’t have to worry about many things, the difficult issues are taken off your hands. She described it as a positive emptiness; she only learnt about real worries and hardships during the war and as a human. That’s why she often went to the stables later in difficult times and occasionally let Oozol ride her. Maybe it was just nostalgia, but something about her old life had real meaning for her.” “In her former life, did she…” Izzy chewed on her lower lip. “Am I her…” Matheus cleared his throat before answering. “She never wanted to tell me about that. I’m sure she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. You have to understand that as a ponygirl, she had no choice. But the truth is also that even if you had siblings out there, the war will probably have eaten them. We all lost something in those years.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “While we’re on the subject, hopefully you’ll give your old dad many grandchildren one day. Bastian always looked good to you.” Izzy suddenly blushed. “Yes, but he’s also a cocky bastard. Besides…” “Oh, grand foals would be fine too, of course.” “Stop it…!” Izzy gulped, preferring to change the subject hastily. “Has she ever forgiven you?” “You mean about the prince?” He stared thoughtfully out of the door. “No, never really. It was a hard blow for her. It never tarnished our love, but it was still painful for her. That’s why I have an inkling of what it’s like between you and Grall. Everything I did for her was out of love, even if it didn’t always feel that way to her straight away. But she trusted me and in the end she was happy. Give yourself time to think. It wasn’t an easy choice for your mum. She often thought about going to Oozol in the stable. But our love grew with each passing day — it was a long journey, but you can believe me when I tell you that we were both happy in the end. She would have loved you very much.” He wiped a small tear from his eye and took a deep breath. “I’ll go to Oozol and tell him you’re ill and can’t come. That will give you some time to think. But before you go to bed, I’d better take you behind the stable again.” Izzy blushed, but nodded gratefully. — Two days later, Matheus and Izzy were sitting down for breakfast. The bread was fresh and the cheese homemade. They ate it in silence, but both sensed the question in the air. They had not exchanged a word since their conversation in the stable, although they had often met — as was inevitable in such a small house. But Izzy was still unsure of herself, and Matheus seemed to sense this. He gave her the time she needed. But something was different at this breakfast. Izzy felt strangely alone, unneeded. As if she wasn’t doing what she was supposed to be doing. She gritted her teeth. “Do you want to try again?” her father finally asked, as if he had noticed his daughter’s thoughts. Izzy was almost startled by the sound of his voice. Two voices were shouting at each other in her head: Her emotions and her mind. Her feelings were about Grall, the rides and the fun they had often had together as ponygirl and rider. And then there was her mum… but at the same time her mind was screaming what a stupid cow she was to even think about it! The road could only end one way, and that wasn’t good. But for a moment, her emotions got the better of her and she nodded. “But you have to understand one thing, Izzy: goblin law is different from ours, especially when it comes to humans. There is a clear separation between humans and ponygirls, and that separation is irreversible. Only the goblins determine who is a human and who is a ponygirl. But most importantly, habit can lead to ownership in goblins. If too many goblins see you as a ponygirl, you’re a ponygirl. Then Grall can declare you his property, even if you don’t want him to.” Again, Izzy nodded dumbly. Her mind screamed even louder, but she didn’t listen. They both finished breakfast in silence, then wordlessly walked out into the yard and into the stable. “You know how to do that?” she asked, even though she knew the answer. Her dress fell to the ground, and he skilfully put the saddle on her, then the bridle and boots. He held the horse bit in his hand. “Are you sure you want this?” “Not forever. But I want to try again.” “You don’t have to do it just because your mum was a ponygirl.” Izzy thought for a long time before answering. It was a strange feeling, and maybe it was true — it wasn’t just about Grall, her mum was a reason too. “I want to understand how she lived. Just one more time. Then I’ll stop.” — Matheus led them along a narrow footpath to Oozol’s courtyard so that no one could see them. They both stopped in front of the entrance. “Have fun, Buttercup,” her father said before tying her to a post and walking back. It was still very early and dark, the yard was asleep, so she had to wait until almost dawn to be found. It was strangely humiliating to have to wait tied up like that, but of course, she had no choice — but somehow it was also exactly the kind of life she wanted to experience again. Her time was meaningless; she was only there to be available to her rider at all times, and otherwise wait to be needed. Izzy endured it without grumbling — her mum had grown up like this and she wanted to feel what it meant again; it was the first time in her life that she felt truly connected to her mother. Does everyone else feel like this when they follow in their parents’ footsteps, Izzy wondered, shuffling her hooves. With the rising sun, Pexo found her and, yawning, loosened her reins. Without a word, he led her across the yard and past her usual stable. “Your stable isn’t clean yet, you’ll have to wait somewhere else for a moment,” he explained, his eyes dropping. “This one should be fine.” He put his hand over his mouth, then opened the door, pushing Izzy inside and slamming only the bottom door shut behind her. The sun was rising behind the stable, so it was still gloomy inside despite the open top-half of the door, but Izzy was used to that by now. She sighed and was about to sit down in a corner when she noticed a movement in the darkness. She startled and pressed herself against the door. Although her eyes were still used to the night, it was not enough to recognise more than a shadow, but she knew by instinct that she was not alone. Another pony was in the stable with her. But who? She lifted her nose into the air and detected an unfamiliar odour — it was pleasant and tart, strange and yet familiar. She ventured a step forwards; was it Sunshine? No, she smelled different. All ponygirls smelled different. Her legs became soft. She neighed softly, it sounded shrill and anxious in her ears too. The answer was also a neigh — it was deeper, more powerful. A stallion. Izzy trembled. Was it Titan? The stallion she had seen before? He was big, powerful, strong, interesting… and exciting. She swallowed and took a step into the darkness. By now, more light was coming into the stable and she could make out the first outline. The stallion rose slowly and Izzy sensed that he was studying her closely. She was already more in the light and must be a pleasant sight for him. She knew very well how men reacted to women — in this case, that probably translated well to a stallion and a mare. She neighed once more and the stallion took a step forwards. It was only a small movement, but with his muscular legs he crossed half the stable until the chains stopped him. The sun revealed more of his form, and also the enthusiasm he showed for her. Izzy blushed; but wasn’t it also flattering? Had she ever been able to get another man so excited for her? She didn’t know for sure, but here it was right in front of her. The stallion grinned through his bit. There were still a couple feet separating them, but only for as long as Izzy wanted. Something drew her to him, close to him, to his strong chest. She licked her teeth and took a step towards him. Not enough to be with him, but enough to make him tug wildly at the chains. “What’s going on?” shouted Grall. Izzy turned around on the spot and stared at Grall and Oozol, who were leaning over the stable door watching her. Horrified, she took a few steps backwards and bumped into the stallion, who enthusiastically thrust his manhood between her thighs, but didn’t quite reach his target. She was startled and hopped forwards again; she stumbled and hit the door. “Take it easy, Buttercup. What are you doing in the stable with Titan?” He turned to the yard and shouted, “Who put my horse in the stable with Titan? “I’m sure it was just an accident, son. Calm down. Nothing happened after all. Although Buttercup looks a bit disappointed,” Oozol sneered. Grall was upset like he rarely was and Izzy looked at him with wide eyes. “How could you look at that so calmly? You know her — did you want her to have a foal?” “She’s not a ponygirl, like she always says. She can decide for herself. Are you telling me she wasn’t interested?” Izzy’s head was spinning. Oozol really was a true goblin. Would he have watched if… if… no, it wouldn’t have happened! She was just curious. Nevertheless, she felt something wet on her bum that the stallion had left behind. Was that what a ponygirl felt like? Her mum had too… — she quickly suppressed the thought. “Look how unhappy Titan is. You should give them some more time,” Oozol suggested, but Grall shook his head vigorously. The young goblin opened the door and pulled Izzy roughly by the reins behind him. “How could you! You really offered yourself to him!” he scolded, visibly indignant. “You… oh, I should have known. You ponygirls are all the same.” He took her to her own stable, which, to her surprise, now even bore a plaque with her name and a few dates — her ponygirl name, of course: Buttercup, Riding Horse. Tame. She rolled her eyes. Tame; of course, what else could a goblin think of her? Grall walked away without a word, but he threw his arms in the air several times on the way and grumbled something unintelligible. While she waited for Grall, the other horses were prepared for their day, and then it was her turn. Grall seemed to have calmed down a bit, he even smiled a little. “I’m sorry I was so rude — I was just surprised. Fortunately, nothing happened. But it’s nice to have you back. You did choose me, didn’t you?” He took the horse bit out of her mouth. “You only have me for today, then I’ll stop,” she explained, and Grall nodded disappointedly. “My father told me everything about my mum. It’s just too much for me. I can’t and don’t want to be a ponygirl forever. Besides, school starts again tomorrow. You only have a week’s holiday left, too. When we’re finished, I’ll get rid of this stupid tax stamp, it always rubs my leg!” She blushed slightly when Grall looked at it. “How could my mum live with that?” Grall put the bit back in her mouth with slumped shoulders, but something about his eyes told Izzy that he hadn’t quite given up yet. But ultimately, it didn’t matter, this was her decision. “If she was the prince’s horse, she certainly didn’t have any. A prince doesn’t pay taxes. As a farewell, I have something special planned,” he said. After a quick “Tack”, he sat in the saddle and rode her out of the courtyard. Izzy was determined to let every experience sink in today. She was already completely used to the horse bit, but today she concentrated again to taste the metal and the wood, to feel the sensation on her tongue and never forget any of it. Grall pushed her along and soon they were on a short ride on the goblin side of town, but still far enough out so no one could see them. Her hooves kicked up dirt from the footpath, while birds sang softly in the trees. It was another beautiful day, and a pleasant farewell to the holidays that had changed so much for Izzy. She was lost in her thoughts again and Grall stopped her with the reins before she even noticed the goblins ahead. She froze in shock. “So you really weren’t lying. Well, well, a real ponygirl,” said an ugly little goblin boy. Izzy always had a hard time guessing the age of goblins, but this one had to be about the same age as Grall. Izzy had heard about these goblins before, they were from Grall’s class, but that didn’t make it any better that they saw Izzy like this now; slowly the names came back to her: The boy in front of her was called Kreks, next to him — slightly taller — was Yreo and behind them were two girls: Mexi and Lidea. “I always tell the truth. This is Buttercup I told you about,” Grall said with pride in his voice. Izzy’s blood froze in her veins. She wanted to look at him, but the reins prevented it. How dare he tell others about her like that! Oozol had promised her that no one would find out, and now her own best friend, of all people, was betraying her. “Looks good,” Yreo said as he walked around Izzy, patting her flank and bum repeatedly. “Gorgeous build, good stature. Good round saddle bum. Decent breasts; the bit sits well in the mouth, only the mane is a bit wild.” Izzy closed her eyes at this description, but her ears remained open to her displeasure. “It does make me a little envious, my father just won’t buy me a ponygirl. You’re one of the few in the class to have your own, lucky you.” He doesn’t have his own ponygirl, Izzy thought, but discussing it with the horse bit in her mouth was impossible. Besides, she wanted to know how a ponygirl felt, and that was the way it was. You were judged and evaluated, but had no say in the matter. But she also remembered her father’s warning well; she had never been so dangerously close to the real life of a ponygirl — and, to her shame, she felt a warm feeling in her underbelly when she thought about it. “Tack!” Grall ordered and got out of the saddle with the help of the stirrups. “You’ve trained her well,” Yreo remarked. “She’s very docile,” Grall boasted to Izzy’s displeasure. “Does she sit too?” “Why not? I haven’t tried it yet, but I’m sure she listens. Zhrak!” Izzy blushed. She had only recently heard the command in her father’s story, but she knew exactly what was expected of her now. She bit her lip, looked angrily at Grall for a moment, then dropped to her knees and bowed her head. It was humiliating — like so many things before — but she probably had no choice if she didn’t want to give herself away. The girls watched Izzy at a distance, but Kreks was less shy. “Come on, let’s go for a ride too. You said she was fast.” “She’s the fastest horse in my father’s stable.” “You can tell a lot!” Grall pondered, and Izzy was beginning to hope he would turn it down, but a sharp “Tack” showed her he wasn’t. What a fool! “Ladies first!” He grinned at the two girls; Mexi in particular blushed. Izzy was fuming, but Grall just stroked her bum — and even briefly between her legs to her horror — and made soothing noises that only excited Izzy more. “Please play along. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, I’m sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” He turned to the others. “You don’t have to be afraid, Buttercup is a very tame horse, she won’t harm you.” Izzy stamped her feet. The girls approached her uncertainly; there was genuine fear in their eyes. Izzy was a little ashamed that she had frightened them so much and lowered her head. Mexi mounted Izzy first. Grall held Izzy’s reins tightly so that she didn’t jump up in fright. It was still a strange feeling for Izzy to have a rider besides Grall in the saddle. The girl took the reins with trembling hands and gave Izzy a kick so light she almost didn’t notice it. Now she really had become a ponygirl — she no longer allowed her best friend a place in the saddle, she was ridden without being asked. The girl was lighter than Grall, so light that Izzy almost didn’t notice the weight on her back. She trotted along the road for a short loop before Mexi dismounted again. “That was so exciting, my first ride on a ponygirl. Thank you, Buttercup!” She gave Izzy a little kiss on the forehead and received a friendly neigh and a place in Izzy’s heart in return. She was followed by Lidea, who was already a little more seasoned. They travelled halfway down the road with, as did Yreo, who was clearly an experienced rider. He held the reins lightly and only intervened when necessary. Grall could learn a thing or two from him, Izzy thought, and she realised that she could now even judge the qualities of different riders; what a strange experience. “She has a good gait, if still a little raw. I’m sure your father can still train her a little more.” Last up was Kreks. The boy was very excited, he immediately jumped into the saddle and gave Izzy a good kick before she had fully risen. Grall warned him to be careful, but Kreks urged Izzy on. Behind the last row of trees, he pulled hard on her reins and steered her painfully onto the next road, out of sight of the others. As soon as they had disappeared behind the trees, Kreks took a thin elastic twig out of his shirt and cracked it like a whip on Izzy’s bottom. Izzy howled loudly, but at the same time she jumped forwards as if she could escape the whip. That was nonsense, of course, as her tormentor was sitting on her back, and yet it worked with every stroke. The whip alternately cracked against her buttocks and sent Izzy galloping across the gravel track like a whirlwind. “Faster, faster!” Kreks shouted and tormented Izzy until her bum was covered in welts. The loud clop-clop-clop of her hooves echoed through the forest. Kreks led her in a wide arc back to the others, where she stopped, exhausted and in tears. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her whole backside was burning like fire; she didn’t even notice the horrified looks on the faces of the other goblins when Grall pulled the boy out of her saddle. The first blow hit Kreks directly on the nose, which broke with a loud crack. Kreks cried out loudly, but Grall didn’t let go of him. He hit the boy again and again until his hands must have hurt and he hit the boy with the same branch he had maltreated Izzy with. Izzy, on the other hand, was too shocked to do anything. Not that she really wanted to stop Grall, but his anger still surprised her. Finally, Grall was satisfied; he threw the stick into the Wood, leaned against an old tree and took a deep breath. Izzy had never seen him so furious. Was it just because of her, or was it because Kreks had damaged something that Grall considered his property? She looked at him for a long time and could only hope it was a sign of his true friendship. “Nobody beats Buttercup — without my permission. And certainly not like that!” His voice cut the air like a sharp blade. The other goblins nodded hurriedly. Kreks was still lying on the ground, whimpering and hiding his face. “Can I have a look?” Mexi asked, carefully walking around Izzy. “That looks bad. A branch is not a good riding crop. I’ve brought some ointment, can I apply it?” Izzy was about to nod when she realised, grumbling, that the question was addressed at Grall. How could it be otherwise? Grall nodded, and Mexi spread the healing ointment on Izzy’s bum. It felt strange the way the girl massaged the ointment in, but Izzy tried to smile at her through the horse bit anyway. “Tack,” Grall said, taking Izzy’s head in his arms. He wiped the tears from her eyes, then whispered, “You were really fast. Incredibly fast. We need to talk about this.” Izzy rolled her eyes. She was certainly never going to let anyone ride her with a branch in their hand again! Or ever… But she also noticed the pride she saw in his eyes, and if she was completely honest with herself, she was a little proud too. He mounted her saddle and was about to ride off when Mexi stopped him. “We want to make it up to you!” she said, and the others — except Kreks — nodded. “We’re having a big party at my house today, does that sound good?” Grall appeared to be thinking. He tapped Izzy on the shoulder, who turned her head towards him. She’d never been to a goblin party before, but there’s always a first time, Izzy thought, and these goblins owed her one. She nodded slowly, then Grall nodded too. He gave Izzy a little kick and she trotted off alongside the goblins. Izzy’s mind raced. What was a goblin party like? She had known goblins all her life, but outside the village feasts most goblins kept to themselves. Grall was a goblin, but he was more of an outsider there and, like Izzy, still very green behind the ears when it came to partying — even more green than usual. Surely, they had their own drinking games and music, she thought, and was actually starting to look forward to it. It was about time she got out of the ponygirl stuff again. The experience just now had made it clear to her that the life of a ponygirl — her mum’s life — just wasn’t for her. They turned away from the forest path and, to Izzy’s horror, the ride also took them through a neighbouring goblin village. The people hardly noticed them, only a few had a closer look at the interesting ponygirl. Izzy blushed slightly. As a ponygirl, she was used to being half-naked among goblins by now, but she had seen some of the goblins here in the village before — and judging by the looks on their faces, they recognised her too. Her father’s warning echoed in her head, but it was too late now anyway. Her destination was not in the village, but on a small hill further on: It was a magnificent estate that towered above the trees, exuding power and influence. Mexis’ family must have a lot of money to be able to afford a house like this, Izzy thought. At the top, they stopped in a large courtyard, with the manor house to the left and a row of warehouses and stables to the right. Mexi waved to a man — a human — to whom she handed Izzy’s reins. “This is Buttercup, my new friend Grall’s horse here. Please take it to the stable and look after it. We’ll be at the party and pick it up in the morning.” Grall nodded and stroked Izzy once more, then disappeared into the manor with his new friends. Only Kreks gave her another dirty look. Izzy’s heart sank to her knees. She had been a fool again — the invitation was of course only for Grall, not his animal; it was a goblin party, and would probably remain so. How could she even dream of that? Now she would spend the night in a strange stable while her best friend partied wildly. The man led her to a small stable and freed her from her clothes, but not without keeping her tied up — as was customary with the goblins. Still, it was more humiliating than usual; it just made a difference whether a human or a goblin washed her. “You’re a really good horse,” he said in a tone befitting a groom. Izzy hated it, but she had no choice. His hands were big and rough, and it was obvious he thoroughly enjoyed his work. “Take it easy, you’ll be clean in no time. They’ve done a number on you, you poor thing.” To her relief, she soon stood shining in the square, ready for her night quarters. “Come on, you’ll love the stable. No one will bother you there.” Izzy neighed and the man laughed. He led her on a lead to a wide door, through which he pushed her into the stable. But she wasn’t alone — this wasn’t her stable at home, it was a group stable of all the guest ponygirls. The other horses barely looked up when Izzy arrived. Why should they, they were all just animals waiting for their owners. It was dark and windy in the stable, so the other horses stood in a corner and warmed each other up. One mare neighed briefly and nodded in their direction, and Izzy quickly realised that she should stand there too. She didn’t really like being this close, even the saddle was often too much for her, but as a ponygirl you had to get over yourself. It was actually a little cold in the stable, and the rosy skin of the other ponygirls looked promisingly warm. Like Izzy, they were all tied up at the arms and legs and had a night bit in their mouths — so there was no need for false shame. She plucked up her courage and pressed herself against the other horses. It was a strange feeling, a bunch of unfamiliar bodies all rubbing against each other. Most of the ponygirls were silent as they did so, but a few seemed to be taking great pleasure in the situation, and Izzy couldn’t blame them, she too felt that odd warmth in her belly again. — The hours passed and the music from the house became louder and wilder. The party crowd roared into the night and many a couple sneaked past the stable into the woods. For Izzy and her new friends, however, the evening was no reason to celebrate, even if she herself at least had a new experience — she had wanted to know how her mother must have felt, and now she was right in the middle of it. The party had been going on for many hours when Izzy heard voices outside the stables. Her heart froze — it was Kreks and Yreo, and they both sounded very drunk. They were slurring their words and ran into the stable door laughing several times before they could open it. Izzy stamped anxiously, but the groom from earlier came into the stable with them. “Which one is it?” the man asked. “That one there… Buttercup!” Yreo slurred. “We want to apologise to her owner…” He burped, but then managed to hold it in his stomach. “… We have a great idea!” The man nodded slowly. “Remember, she’s not your ponygirl. I’ll get her out of the stable for you, but you’re not allowed to ride her!” Izzy was grateful for the man’s kindness, even if she would have preferred to stay in the stable altogether. He led her out into the frosty night and, on the instructions of the two goblins, tied her over a special rack beside the stable, just as Izzy had seen Oozol do. She had to lean over a cold iron bar at waist height, then her lead was tied to a second, lower bar behind it. Before Izzy could react, the man tied her legs to two poles. Her legs were well spread and Izzy tugged at the restraints, but to no avail. She was helpless, and her most private part was stretched upwards against her will. It was terribly humiliating, especially as she felt the eyes of the two goblin boys on her. Surely, they weren’t going to…? Izzy squeaked excitedly. “What are you going to do now?” “You’ll see in a minute,” said Kreks. “You really messed her up,” said Yreo and hit Kreks over the head, who moaned softly. “Grall just can’t take a joke…” “Cruelty to animals is no fun!” grumbled Yreo, slapping his friend again. The two disappeared briefly into an old warehouse, but Izzy couldn’t see what they came out with. “That’s it?” the man asked. Izzy noticed Yreo beside her. To her horror, he grabbed her breasts and stuck two bells directly onto her nipples. It was terribly silly; she wriggled around and the bells rang loudly. The man grumbled. “She doesn’t seem to like that.” Neither of the goblin boys minded. “Did you see the mark on his shirt?” Izzy couldn’t see what Yreo did next until she felt a damp pencil on her bum. It was still very sensitive due to the welts, but Yreo still drew an intricate pattern on her bum with abandon, then went back and looked at it with satisfaction. “Grall should tip me well for this.” Izzy guessed that they had put some sort of brand on her bottom; they were colourless scars in themselves, but most owners added colour after a while to make it more visible. Completely unnecessary on her, but also somehow… she pushed the thought aside. “Not bad,” Kreks agreed. “But here’s the important part! Again, Izzy couldn’t see what the boys were doing, but the man raised his hand in warning. “You have to start small, you don’t know if she’s used to it.” “Oh, nonsense. Look at her, she’s an experienced ponygirl. I’m sure Grall has just lost hers. We’re starting big!” He slapped Izzy lightly on the bum, who immediately whimpered. “Which colour fits best?” He walked with Yreo to Izzy’s side and — to her great misfortune — held a series of ponytails to her hair. She’d seen this sort of thing in the past; some ponygirl wore them deep into their bums, and now Izzy saw how they were attached: The hair was stuck in large wooden plugs, and she had no doubt where they were going, and who was about to endure it. She wriggled and tugged at her restraints, but it was of no use. “This will make it a little easier.” The man hands them both some butter, which they spread on the plug more sparingly than Izzy would have liked. The piece of wood seemed huge, as if it would split Izzy in two. Kreks went to her bum and pressed the wood against her entrance. Izzy whimpered, but Kreks pushed harder and harder. Without a choice, the wood pushed into Izzy, opening her wider and wider, penetrating deep inside her where no one or anything had ever entered before. She had never intended to, but now she was bound over this hideous frame and had a ponytail shoved up her bum by a strange boy. She wanted to know how her mum must have felt, but not that much! With a plop, the plug disappeared into her bum and was so securely there that she would probably never be able to remove it again. Izzy’s forehead was dripping with sweat and her head was bright red with exertion and heat. She felt the unfamiliar foreign thing inside her, taking its place and pressing into her with every little movement; how was she supposed to be able to walk with it? As a ponygirl, she had already suffered many humiliations, but this was the worst of all! But something else irritated her deeply… this new feeling seemed strangely familiar, like a memory from another life. She shook the thought aside and focussed on the here and now. “Ready!” shouted Yreo. “Come on, let’s go party again. Grall will be surprised tomorrow morning!” Kreks giggled drunkenly. “Keep your tail inside, little horsey. Ponygirls who lose their ponytails get punished hard!” The man led Izzy back into the stable, where the other ponygirls were already waiting for her at the door. “Listen to his warning,” he said. “If I catch you without a ponytail tomorrow, I’ll have to report you. Those are the rules!” Izzy neighed and hugged herself to the other ponygirls who had been watching her ordeal from the stable. The warmth among the horses was a harsh contrast to the terror outside the stable, and only the other ponygirls seemed to really understand. School lesson The next morning didn’t come quickly enough for Izzy. The ponytail in her bum robbed her of sleep that night, plus the unfamiliar surroundings — even if the other ponygirls did their best to welcome her. The bells on her bosom were not very helpful either; whenever she moved too much, she woke up the other ponygirls, so it was a long and sleepless night for everyone, but at least the other ponies were understanding. One by one, they were taken out of the stable and handed over to an overtired Goblin, while Izzy started to get nervous. Today was the first day of school, and even though she didn’t have a watch — why would a horse need one — it was clear by sunrise that time was running out. She certainly didn’t want to be late on her first day, especially as Mrs Flinchel, her teacher, had it in for her anyway. There were only a few months to go before she could finally leave school — and the other pupils — behind her, but until then, she had to hold out a little longer. She pawed nervously and kept looking towards the house, but there was no sign of Grall. She had been the only ponygirl in the stable for an hour when the little goblin finally staggered down the grand staircase from the manor house and ran to the stable. “Get me my horse!” he slurred so loudly that he covered his own ears. He obviously had a hangover, but Izzy didn’t care, after all, she had had to endure a lot during the night while he had been enjoying himself at the party. She was hastily saddled by the groom — it was the man from yesterday again. His fingers stayed where they belonged for the most part, only once brushing unnecessarily between her legs. To her displeasure, the ponytail stayed where it was. “You look good,” Grall said, propping himself unsteadily against Izzy’s bum, running his fingers briefly through her tail as well. His breath smelled of expensive wine. Izzy knew all too well that goblins couldn’t tolerate much alcohol. “Kreks wasn’t lying… it looks good on you. So does the mark.” He swayed slightly. “But the bells are a bit much. Zack er Tack!” The groom lifted him into the saddle and he gave Izzy a light kick as usual. He waved goodbye once more to the manor and Izzy was sure Mexi was waving back from one of the windows. The ride wasn’t far, but for Izzy every meter was a new experience. It was the first night with a plug in her bottom, and now it was the first ride since her rear deflowering. The ponytail was big and hard, her buttocks pushing it back and forth inside her; it was simply impossible not to notice it with every step. A burning heat spread through her abdomen. They hadn’t gone far when Grall stopped her. “You need to walk a little smoother, those bells are way too loud!” he grumbled, as if it was Izzy’s fault that she had the bells on her breasts. “Try walking a little softer. Don’t stomp like that.” He yawned, not seeming to realise how patronising those words were. But since Izzy was also annoyed by the tinkling, she did as he asked. It wasn’t easy to keep her upper body still, but after a few steps she got the hang of it. But even apart from that, there was a tension in the air that even Grall noticed in his condition. He cleared his throat and searched for the right words, which probably wasn’t easy with a heavy head. “You know I really care for you… I’m sorry you had to sleep in the stables, but it was a goblin party… no ponygirls allowed in there, I’m afraid. They think you’re my horse, so I couldn’t take you to the party. You understand that, don’t you?” Izzy shook her head and neighed discontentedly. He took a breath and collected his thoughts. “Kreks didn’t tell me about the ponytail until it was too late. Don’t be angry with him, he’s a bit rough, but you can get along with him. I’m sure he meant well about the tail; it was his way of apologising to me.” He cleared his throat. “It’s not customary for us to ask a horse’s permission for something like that beforehand.” He coughed sheepishly and continued to search for the right words. Izzy only half-listened, her ponytail demanding much of her attention. “The painted brand looks good, and the tail looks great on you. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to wear it all the time.” Again, Izzy wasn’t really listening, she just nodded under the reins and tried to keep a clear head. But Grall was happy with that. “Very well, I’ll have one of my own made for you straight away!” He leaned forward in the saddle and gave her a kiss on the neck. From a great distance, they heard church bells ringing over the forest. Izzy lifted her head and neighed nervously. “What’s going on? Is my little ponygirl up to something today?” he asked jokingly, but then it hit him like a hammer blow. “The school!” He gave Izzy a harder kick and spurred her on. Her feet flew across the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them. “I’ll ride you straight to school!” Izzy shook her head vigorously. “You’re right, that would be stupid. We’ll take a shortcut to your house, then maybe you can still make it!” He slapped her lightly on the bum, and it was surreal for Izzy: Grall seemed completely exhausted while she was doing all the work. He yanked on her reins and led her along a track, but to Izzy’s great shock, Grall had forgotten that this was also a popular route to school. Izzy raced across the junction, only to hear Grunhilda laughing loudly behind her. Damn! “Crap,” grumbled Grall. “But I’m sure she didn’t recognise you. You’re much too fast! Just forget about her!” He steered Izzy into the forest and led her through the countryside to her house. Izzy came to a halt in front of it, her soles burning. Grall immediately took her gear from her while her father threw her a shirt and a pair of trousers. Izzy ripped the bells off her nipples and threw them straight onto the rubbish heap. “Neglecting school wasn’t part of the deal,” her father murmured, and Izzy nodded. “That’s Grall’s fault, he’ll explain it to you!” She got into her trousers and, to her great shock, it was only then that she felt the ponytail that was still stuck up her bum. She turned bright red and disappeared behind the house before returning with her trousers on. “Grall, we’ll talk about that later!” “Don’t worry, your own will fit you better” Izzy grabbed him by the collar. “Forget that quickly! That’s it, I’m not your ponygirl any more. Tell the goblins what you want, but I’m out.” Matheus scratched his chin. “Did you find out what you wanted? Did you get close to your mother?” Izzy closed her eyes briefly. “More than I wanted. It was very intense, but I’ve had enough. For a lifetime.” She picked up her school things and ran off. She gave every child a wide berth and arrived at the small school just as the bell rang. Mrs Flinchel stood at the front door and tapped her pocket watch. “Late on the very first day, that’s what we like! You all always want to be so grown-up, then behave like it!” “That won’t happen again,” said Izzy and was startled when Mrs Flinchel slapped her on the bottom as she walked in. She had never done that before! The pupils stared at her — Grunhilda in particular grinned and whinnied softly as Izzy sat down. So they had recognised her after all. Izzy buried her face in one of the schoolbooks and didn’t look over it again until the first break. It was awful, what was she supposed to do now? Although the other students had probably guessed it beforehand — and a few of the goblins certainly hadn’t been able to keep their green flaps shut — now they had actually seen her doing it. During the break in the courtyard, Izzy kept to herself as usual, but the sight of her table for the next lesson made her heart freeze. There were oats all over the table — exactly the kind you would give a ponygirl. To make matters worse, there was a large bag of them on her chair. “Take your food away from there,” ordered Mrs Flinchel after she had called everyone back into the classroom. “It’s not mine!” barked Izzy. “It’s hardly likely to be from one of the students. Come on, let’s get this class started.” Izzy carried the bag out of the classroom to the laughter of the other students; they were all the same age as Izzy, yet they were behaving terribly childishly. It was humiliating, but as she was soon to realise, the problems didn’t stop there. — After school, Izzy fell into her bed, exhausted and humiliated. The others had been making fun of her all day and it was clear that this was not going to end any time soon. It was all Grall’s fault; if he hadn’t ridden past the other students with her, it certainly wouldn’t have happened! She took off her dress and was about to pull the covers over her head when she noticed something on her arms. There was a strange mark on both forearms, the silhouette of a ponygirl, and she guessed where it had come from. She jumped out of bed, ran naked out of the door and grabbed the saddle that Grall had left behind. Indeed! There were symbols right where her arms had been tied. The saddle must have been pressing the mould into her skin for days, and now they weren’t fading even after hours. She examined the saddle more closely and her heart stopped at the sight of more stamps. Just above her bottom — where the saddle pressed past her arms — was Grall’s personal mark, which had also been painted on her bum, and a word that made Izzy want to explode: Buttercup! She felt over her back and could feel the mark and her name with her fingers. “That bastard!” she hissed so loudly that her father stuck his head out of the window. “What’s wrong, do you want me to saddle you?” he asked, confused. “Have you looked at the saddle? It has my name on it. That’s my saddle!” “I know that, Grall had it made for you.” “No, I mean he made it for me BEFORE I became his ponygirl. It was always my saddle! He had a saddle for me, even though I never wanted to wear one.” She slumped against the house. “Were we ever even friends, or was I always just an animal to him?” Matheus put a blanket over his daughter’s shoulder. “Goblins and humans have a difficult relationship. Especially when it comes to ponygirls. I’m sure he’s always been an honest friend to you, but there’s probably no denying that he’s always wanted a ponygirl of his own — you. How was your day at school?” Izzy only reported the good things, she was too embarrassed to talk about the other things. “You’ll be graduating soon, then the whole world will be open to you.” “Or I’ll become a ponygirl,” she said sarcastically. “Grall has already planned it all.” “You think too badly of him. Besides, it’s not a bad thing from his perspective. Remember, he’d even make it official. But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Go to school tomorrow and we’ll see.” Izzy nodded. School wasn’t her favourite place at the moment, but at least it was better than sitting here in the dirt. If she wanted a future, she had to study, and she needed a degree; otherwise she really might end up with a real brand on her butt and a registration number on her breasts. She went to bed, but she couldn’t sleep that night. But even worse, she was missing something — something she would never admit to missing. She had only worn the ponytail for a few hours and a short ride, but it was already dominating her thoughts. It was as if he had left a void inside her, and now she wondered if that feeling would ever go away. — The next day greeted Izzy with its warm rays of sunshine through the open window. A little squirrel perched on the windowsill and watched the sleeping girl before her father woke her with a loud knock on the door. “Come on, get up. You don’t want to be late again, do you?” he asked, yawning tiredly himself. Like every day, he had been up for two hours tending to the farm. Life in the country didn’t allow for late sleepers, and Izzy had had to help often enough. “Just one more hour, please,” Izzy grumbled, but her father shook his head. “Get up. Go!” His voice had taken on a commanding tone that Izzy knew only too well. There was no point in arguing. “You’re worse than the grooms…” Izzy slipped into some clean clothes and threw on a light summer dress with long sleeves so no one would notice the imprints from the saddle. Her teeth were quickly brushed — strange, she thought, it was rarely done on ponygirls. “I wonder if there was something in the feed that protected the teeth?” She took her school things and ran out. It was a beautiful day, the sun was warming her skin and the leaves on the trees were a bright-green colour. If only it wasn’t for school… Goosebumps were running down her spine. Hopefully, the others were getting bored, or she was in for a bad few months. She avoided the most common routes to school and reached the building just in time. Mrs Flinchel was standing at the door, waving the pupils in. “There’s Isabel,” said one girl, giggling. “What’s she still doing here?” “Mrs Flinchel,” Grunhilda chortled in a honeyed voice. “What do you actually do when you find a lost animal?” Mrs Flinchel ignored her: “Inside, we still have a lot to learn today. It’s a special day.“ The way she emphasised the special made Izzy shudder. The first lesson was reading and writing, which Izzy would have happily done without. While reading was still possible, writing was too repetitive — grammar often just didn’t make any sense; the rules seemed random and based purely on the gut feeling of some old monk who had decided on a windy Sunday hundreds of years ago that you had to put a comma right there, even if all the other rules said otherwise. And she didn’t even want to start on the strange spelling of some of the words — she didn’t even want to imagine what nasty goblin had come up with this nonsense. But at least the other pupils had to listen closely, so they didn’t have enough time to get into trouble again. After the break, there were some oats on her table again, but Izzy swept them down carelessly and sat down in her chair without a word. She was determined not to give anyone the satisfaction of responding to this nonsense. The next few hours continued as before and Izzy thought she would get through the day — apart from Grunhilda’s comment and the oats — without too much trouble. But at the beginning of the last lesson, Mrs Flinchel gave her a strange glare that didn’t bode well. She knew her teacher well and was aware of her strict and often even unfair attitude, but this was a particularly bad sign. “For the last lesson today, I have invited a guest. Due to some unusual developments, it seemed appropriate that you all learn a little more about the traditions of our neighbours — the goblins.” She looked Izzy straight in the eye, who could hardly get any smaller in her chair. So this humiliation wasn’t over after all. The other students laughed quietly, Bastian in particular — who was sitting in a corner at the back — was having a great time. That hit Izzy the hardest, but what else did she expect? The teacher opened the door and invited an ancient goblin into the room, pulling a wheelbarrow of old ponygirl stuff behind him into the classroom. “This is Mr Werdox, and he’s going to give us a demonstration on ponygirls today. As you’ve all seen many times, goblins ride these animals. In the past, this was a big point of contention between our species, but today there is peace — partly because we know the clear difference between a girl and a ponygirl.” Mrs Flinchel smiled at Izzy, who buried her face in her hands. Please let this day pass quickly, Izzy thought, but the lesson was only just beginning. “Thank you, Mrs Flinchel,” boomed the goblin. “I’d best show you how to saddle a ponygirl first. Is there a volunteer?” “Izzy will do it!” shouted Grunhilda. “Shut up, I’m not doing anything!” snapped Izzy back. Mrs Flinchel hissed reprovingly. “Watch your language in my classroom! Isabel, come to the front!” “But why me?” whined Izzy. “Why not you? It would be far too humiliating for all the other girls here. Now come here or you’ll be expelled from school.” Izzy swallowed. She had a good idea where this lesson was going, but what choice did she have? She stood up shakily and walked with weak knees to Mr Werdox, who smiled kindly at her. He nodded. “You’ve got a good physique for a ponygirl, this will work well.” The praise made Izzy blush, and the class could hardly contain their laughter. Only a loud admonition from Mrs Flinchel brought some calm to the excited pack. “Please be so good as to take off your dress.” Izzy almost died of embarrassment as she lifted her dress over her head in front of the others. Although she still had her underwear left, it wasn’t enough to stop her feeling almost naked. It was strange, but even as a ponygirl, clad only in a few straps, she had never felt so observed. But unlike usual, she knew the people in this room — besides, the social rules for humans and ponygirls were entirely different. Here she was a human, at least for now, and felt the piercing glances of the other students on her. “Oh, how exciting. You’ve already been ridden, I’d recognise the signs of a saddle anywhere. I recognise the symbol there too, so you’re a ponygirl from Oozol’s son Grall. Wonderful boy, we all feared he would never find a horse.” These words were enough to drive the class completely mad for a whole five minutes. Even Mrs Flinchel was lying on her desk laughing. Izzy could only stand there and wait for it to finally continue — or until she found the courage to simply walk out of the room. But what was the point, she had already gone this far, what else would happen. And besides, her schooling was more important than any shame. “So you really are his little mare,” Grunhilda mocked. Another girl grunted with laughter. “Do you sleep in his stable too?” The old goblin didn’t seem to understand the uproar, but he waited patiently until he could continue. “For a good ponygirl, a saddle that fits is important. You’re a bit too big, but it has to work. Tack!” Izzy immediately went down on her knees, which sent the class into an uproar again. She closed her eyes and wished herself somewhere else, but nothing happened. The goblin hoisted the saddle onto her back, where Izzy had already crossed her arms. Practice was practice. Unlike her own saddle, this one was a poor fit. It pinched and pressed everywhere, and the material was rough and brittle — and Izzy realised how high quality her saddle was, and could only guess at the sums Grall had spent to keep her, and therefore his horse, comfortable. Grunhilda scoffed: “Is the saddle comfortable?” A fire flared up inside Izzy. “No, mine is more comfortable! But wait until I’ve got the pony boots on, then I can give you a good kick up the ass!” The class was silent for a moment before the usual laughter rang through the room. “Please, that’s unnecessary,” pleaded the old goblin. “I have a solution for that.” He took the bridle and put it over Izzy’s head, fastening an old, hard wooden horse bit into Izzy’s mouth. He was right, at least Izzy wouldn’t be able to object now, and from his standpoint, that was all that mattered with a horse. Mrs Flinchel nodded. “We probably should have done this earlier. She never had anything important to say anyway.” Next came the pony boots and, much to her annoyance, he tied her legs together too — he didn’t want to take any risks. “She sounds like a real horse,” shouted a boy as the clop-clop-clop of hooves rang through the room. “Are they finished with that?” “Almost!” The goblin took something else out of the box. The class was amazed. Izzy turned round and, to her great shock, saw a ponytail on a large plug. It was even bigger than the one at the party and would surely split her in two. She whimpered softly. “Not every ponygirl has a ponytail, but I’m sure our… what’s her name?” “Buttercup,” Mrs Flinchel replied, confirming Izzy’s worst fears. “Anyway, I’m sure our Buttercup here has had a ponytail or two in her bum. I’ll show you how to insert it now.” So far, Izzy had at least been allowed to keep her underwear on — although some of the boys had loudly pleaded for a better view — but now the goblin was cutting the thin fabric with his claws, which he carelessly threw to the floor. “She even has a tax tag!” yelled one of the girls, who was probably more familiar with ponygirls than Izzy. “What an animal!” Werdox smeared something slippery on the plug and guided it to Izzy’s bum. “It’s important that you always push hard against it. You also have to twist the plug a little so that it slides in more easily. Watch carefully.” The boys especially liked doing this, even if they hadn’t usually praised Izzy for her looks; but a naked girl was probably a naked girl, Izzy thought. She could feel the plug against her bum, pressing harder and harder against her entrance. She tried to resist, but it was no use, the wood was stronger and slowly she opened up against her will. It was too late to escape, also thanks to the restraints, and she no longer had her reputation to lose anyway. The plug pushed harder and harder, stretching her beyond anything she had known before; then there was a pop and the plug sank into her bum. It was that strange, warm feeling again that the first ponytail had already given her. “She likes it,” shouted a boy, and he was probably right. Fortunately, the strap of the saddle protected the rest of her from any prying eyes. “That was easy, she must have had bigger ponytails up her arse. “That’s quite possible,” confirmed the goblin, who had probably missed the obvious insult. He seemed to have completely misjudged the situation. “You must be proud of your classmate. An excellent ponygirl, she’s her rider’s pride and joy. A ponytail is one of the unmistakable signs of whether you have a ponygirl or a human woman in front of you. For a ponygirl it’s a kind of reward, but a woman wouldn’t put up with something like that.” “I can promise you that,” scoffed Mrs Flinchel. “But we’re not here to admire Isabel’s secret passion, we’re here to learn something. Class, tell me, what makes a ponygirl?” “The saddle!” said a boy. “The horse bit, and the reins!” shouted a girl. “No, the registration number!” shouted someone else. Mrs Flinchel shook her head vigorously. “Not at all, what does the animal itself matter!” The class fell silent for a moment, then a girl raised her hand. “She’s submissive?” A boy shouted, “Rough!” and that broke the dam. “Stupid!”, “Simple-minded”, “That’s the same thing!”, “Housebroken”… Izzy’s head was buzzing. How had they gone from the first humiliation to complete annihilation? There was no stopping the class, hardly an adjective was even remotely kind. Izzy had to endure it all while standing tied up next to the blackboard. Mrs Flinchel hurriedly took notes. “She’s not human,” Bastian finally said, which finally broke Izzy’s heart. “But not at all! Ponygirls have countless good qualities,” Mr Werdox stammered, but no one listened to him. “Enough of this. This demonstration is over for today. Mr Werdox, please take the horse outside and tie it to the tree.” Her broad grin almost split her face in two. “And you, Isabel, don’t need to come back here. This school can’t teach you anything you can’t learn better with a horse bit and whip from your goblin master. You are hereby expelled from the school!” “It almost makes you envious… No more school,” Bastian mused aloud. Mrs Flinchel grimaced. “Anyone who wants to follow Buttercup is welcome to do so. You’re all grown up, do what you think is right. But you won’t get a proper degree in a stable… anyone want to join the ponygirl?” All the students shook their heads. Mr Werdox handed Izzy, who was trembling and close to tears, a treat on the flat of his hand, and despite the giggling class, she ate it gratefully from his palm. He stroked her flank and legs to calm her down a little and led her out. “Humans have a hard time accepting something they don’t understand. We goblins know all about it; the great war taught us many things. Come on, I’ll ride you home. Your owner will know what to do.” Izzy got down on her knees and let the goblin mount, now nothing mattered anyway. Not even the reference to her owner bothered her any more — was it far from reality anyway? He gave her a light kick and rode her gently and kindly from the yard under the gaze of the class. The crop As Izzy quickly realised, Werdox was a kind and cautious rider. His interventions were calm, level-headed, and never stronger than absolutely necessary. The old goblin could be accused of stupidity, but at least he wasn’t cruel. But that hardly reassured her; after all, a stranger was still sitting on her back and using her as nothing more than a horse — and she was at his mercy like any other ponygirl. An animal that only served to be useful to its rider. And to make matters worse, she had come a good deal closer to a future as such — after a few goblins had already seen her as a ponygirl, she had now even been seen in this degrading form by people close to her. She had even been observed being saddled and fitted with a horse bit; she had not even been spared the ponytail. It was a deep humiliation that would probably not remain without consequences. She was deep in thought, blindly following the instructions of the reins by habit by now, and was standing in Oozol’s yard before she even realised it. Of course, Izzy thought bitterly, where else would a goblin take a horse if not to the stable where it belonged. For Werdox, the school must have been the exception, and not Oozol’s farm, to which she clearly belonged for Werdox thanks to Grall’s markings. A groom promptly appeared and helped the old goblin — after a snappy tack! — out of the saddle. “What’s going on, why isn’t she at school?” asked Grall, who had stormed out of the house, confused. Werdox seemed surprised by the question. “They didn’t want her there any more. But a school isn’t a good place for a ponygirl anyway. Especially not such a gorgeous one.” He patted Izzy’s shoulder in praise, but she wasn’t receptive to it today. Grall took the bit out of Izzy’s mouth. “Tell me what happened.” Izzy did, and Grall’s eyes narrowed with every word. He turned to Werdox, who looked at him uncertainly. “This is your fault! You old fool, why did you do this?” The old goblin was visibly overwhelmed and stammered. “But… she’s a horse! And the teacher wanted a demonstration… I didn’t mean any harm!” Grall wasn’t satisfied. “It was meant to be a secret from the humans. Haven’t you thought about it?” “Nobody told me -” Werdox began, before Izzy interrupted him. “Don’t act so pretentious, Grall; as if he was the only one not thinking something through…” Izzy grumbled. “You presented me to your friends first. And if you hadn’t ridden me onto the big road, we wouldn’t have been seen at all! Damn it, it was your fault we were late in the first place!” Grall got a little smaller, as if the air had been let out of him. “You’re right, that was stupid of me. But that doesn’t give your teacher the right to treat you like that. When we’re done here, I’ll go and complain about Mrs Flinchel! We goblins have no power over these people, but my father still has some influence. Nobody tricks a friend of mine just like that!” Izzy snorted angrily. “Oh, is that so? Then you can surely explain why you had a saddle for me long before you were allowed to put it on me.” A bright fire burned in her eyes, and Grall took a few steps back. Izzy must have been a mountain of muscle on the verge of exploding in his eyes. Even some of the grooms were putting down their work and getting ready to calm that wild horse. Izzy’s eyes twitched to the side, and she realised that despite their long experience, many of them were quite mindful of her presence. Strangely enough, that was a quite good feeling for her. “Did it leave you speechless?” Grall swallowed and his hands plucked restlessly at his clothes. Gotcha, Izzy thought, even if she didn’t enjoy it. He was still important to her, but there was a good chance that this would be the end of their friendship. “You’d better have a good explanation, or I’m walking off the farm and never coming back!” Grall understood; he swallowed, nervously wiped a few stones away with his feet and began to speak quietly: “It was just an idea; my father always talked about me choosing a ponygirl… but I didn’t want to, also because we are friends. How could I ride a girl when you were there? But somehow — deep down inside — I was probably hoping that you would become my ponygirl one day.” His gaze was fixed on his feet. “One day I was supposed to order saddles for my father; it was from one of the best saddlers on the island, and I had a lot of time to look at his craftsmanship. The fine leather, the perfect stitching, the curved shapes and the firm straps. They were perfect, something you’d give a ponygirl as a gift if you really cared. But my father had given me too much money, and as luck would have it, there was enough for another saddle — thinking about it, it was a bit suspicious. But as it is, I then had another saddle made — just for you. It was simple, but still of good quality. It was just for fun, I just wanted to tease you a bit. But when I held it in my hands, I knew I couldn’t do it. You were and are too important to me for a joke like that. So I put it in the stable, where it stayed until you got too big for it; you grew up awfully fast.” He chuckled lightly and Izzy nodded too. Her growth spurts had almost driven her father to despair too; in the end, better turnip sacks were almost the only solution, but they also brought with them some ridicule and scorn. On those days, Grall was often her only comfort — and only friend. Now it was strange to know that the most expensive clothing for her at that time was a saddle, which Grall hid in a stable. “I looked at the saddle a lot, and later bought a new one. It was just a daft idea, but it made me happy somehow. Then you got too big again and I bought another one. Each one was pricier and better than the last, and I always wanted to show it to you — but I never dared. Your current one is the fourth saddle, the best of all, for the best friend in the world.” But if Grall had hoped that these words would appease Izzy, he was mistaken. “You mean for the best horse…” Her gaze hadn’t softened. Her head was burning, but in a strange way, so was the rest of her body. The thought that her friend had a saddle for her all this time, and secretly thought of her that way, should have shaken her beyond belief, and yet it made her feel warm more than anything. Was it just the tail that irritated her with every step? Or was there more to it? “Don’t flatter me. Why does it fit me so well, if you only commissioned it?” “Because I just know you well,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “Everything about you. You’re just important to me.” Izzy snorted. “Our neighbours care about their dog too, but he’s still just their pet. And I’m probably yours. You’ve even marked me already.” She turned round and showed the marks on her arms and back. “What do you have to say to that?” She had expected at least some shame from him, but he just smiled and bit his lower lip. “It was just part of the saddle. But it does make me proud to see you sporting it.” “You could at least have asked me!” She took a quick step forwards and the grooms did the same. One more move and they would probably be all over her. Let them, thought Izzy, today I decide! “I just hadn’t thought about it,” said Grall, raising his hands apologetically. “But what’s the big deal? The marks will disappear again. It’s just part of our culture. You humans always say you’re tolerant.” Izzy looked at him menacingly. “Don’t you dare portray yourself as a victim here! You’ve always been able to tell me everything, but I have the right to decide for myself. Why do you care so much about riding me?” Werdox ventured forward slightly. That seemed unusually bold for a man like him to Izzy, but she had no intention of hurting him anyway. “Good…girl, that’s what you’re made for…isn’t it?” There was no doubt in his last word, but real fear. Again, Izzy realised how big the difference was between a human and a goblin. It was no wonder the greenlings trained the ponygirls so much — an uncontrolled pony was a considerable danger to any goblin. But Izzy was in no mood for such talk. “Shut up, just because Grall isn’t innocent, didn’t mean they had to saddle me in front of the whole class. Why couldn’t they at least do without the ponytail!” She growled angrily, but turned her bottom away when Werdox tried to remove it. Before the argument could escalate any further, Oozol rode into the yard. He jumped elegantly out of the saddle and looked at the group in amazement. “What’s going on here? Why is everyone staring at my son and his horse? Get back to work, you’ll realise when there’s something to do here!” The grooms immediately dispersed again and Izzy also felt the words take some of the wind out of her sails. The goblins’ fear had given her a boost, but there was no sign of it in Oozol. His gaze was like a cold bucket of water over her head. Grall hurriedly reported what had happened, then Oozol nodded. “Dear Werdox, you are truly the cleverest fool on this island. How could you believe that humans would want to know about our traditions?” He raised his hand and silenced Werdox before he had even opened his mouth. “That wasn’t a question. Now go away before I pull your ears out. Just because you’re older doesn’t mean I won’t still treat you like the naïve boy you obviously are in your head!” “I am truly sorry. I obviously misjudged the situation. The humans and us goblins are probably still a long way apart. But I’ll tell you one thing, good girl: A few of your classmates would make good horses.” He winked and hurriedly ran from the yard before he was thrown out. Izzy grinned slightly. “Now for you,” Oozol said, looking Izzy seriously in the eye. “Shall we take you to your father?” This question came as a surprise to Izzy; she hadn’t even thought about it in all this time, but Oozol gave her some time to think. “I’m sure he’ll be disappointed when he hears about me not getting a degree.” “Then stay with us for a while. I’ll send a messenger to your father to excuse you. Good, then that’s settled. Grall, we have some chores to do too, you can play with Buttercup later.” He waved a couple of grooms over to take Izzy for a wash. They looked nervous and, to Izzy’s annoyance, the horse bit was put back in her mouth. But as Oozol had also called her Buttercup, this was to be expected. She was a horse on this farm, there was no doubt about that by now. If she wanted to be a human — then this was not the place for it. — Grall stayed busy until nightfall; obviously Oozol didn’t want him to go to Izzy that day either. She saw through the stable door, which was open at the top, how the light in his room faded, then it was dark and quiet everywhere in the yard. That left plenty of time for a lost girl to find her favourite dark spot in the stable and stare at the ceiling with heavy thoughts in her head. Of course, her arms had been tied behind her back again and a horse bit had been stuck in her mouth; even her ponytail was still in her bum — although that may have been because she had always playfully turned away when the groom tried to pull it out. Even a horse was allowed to have some fun in the evening, thought Izzy and grinned sheepishly. She would never have dared to do something like that before, but life as a horse was relieving in its own ways — as restrictive as it was, you could get away with a few things that were unthinkable for a human. Nevertheless, she now had to think about what her future would look like. But whatever she did, in the end she always found herself back in this stable as a horse. This place was like a magnet, exerting an invisible force on her. Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was just in her blood… or… she brushed the thought aside angrily. It simply couldn’t be that she herself wanted it that way. That simply wasn’t true! She shook her head. No, she thought, it was just coincidence and a friend who would like to have a horse. She was deep in thought when footsteps sounded outside the door. Izzy lifted her head at the soft squeak of the stable door. It was Grall; he had a blanket with him, which he carefully spread out in the centre of the stable. The little goblin sneaked silently to Izzy, released her arms and took the horse bit from her mouth, but before she could say anything, he pressed a finger to her lips. He lay down on the blanket and patted the space next to him. Izzy gladly accepted the invitation; perhaps not everything had broken between them after all. She hoped so because she could hardly imagine life without Grall. They had known each other practically since birth, and hardly a day went by without them exploring the world together. Strange how quickly things could change, she thought. The two of them fell asleep quickly, but Izzy woke up after a short, wild dream with a light weight on her breasts. She opened her eyes sleepily and found Grall in her arms, lying on her breasts like a small child. She must have cradled the sleeping goblin in her arms like a stuffed animal during the night because she would surely have noticed if he had climbed on top of her. She looked at the sleeping greenling thoughtfully as she felt his heartbeat. It was a fast drumming rhythm in a 6 beat, which was typical of goblins. He was so small and vulnerable, almost like a child, and yet already an adult. She kissed him on the forehead, hugged him a little tighter, and sank into a dreamless sleep. — The next morning, Izzy leaned over the door of her stable and watched the hustle and bustle of the large yard with a blank expression. Grall had woken up before her and — probably so as not to wake her — had quietly slipped out of the stable. The trainers were practising walking with saddles with some of the newest ponygirls, while other horses were being harnessed to a cart. She sighed. This farm was really becoming her home more and more. Where else would she go without a degree? She had a room with her father, but he wouldn’t be able to feed her forever. The stable was at least a retreat — even if it came with a price called saddle. “Hope you slept well,” Grall called as he hobbled across the yard, and Izzy made way for him to open the door. “Are you still angry with me?” he asked as he carefully closed the door behind him and spread the straw again with his foot. It was one of those little gestures that got on Izzy’s nerves — why would he distribute the straw if he didn’t think she needed it… She snorted. “How could I not? Look at me, I’m a horse! In your stable — heck, in my stable!” “You can always go home if you want. But I don’t want to lie to you — I like having you here with me.” Izzy snorted again, but said nothing. “I’m deeply sorry about the saddle, I should have told you the truth. But how do you tell your best friend that you want to ride her half-naked through the forest? How do you start a conversation like that?” Izzy smiled slightly, she would have liked to see him try, knowing full well that she would have ripped his head off. It was hard to believe how much their relationship had changed. They used to be eye to eye, despite their size difference, and now it was usually the smaller one who set the tone. But in moments like these, everything seemed normal again — apart from the fact that she had her arms behind her back and could be saddled up as an animal for a ride in a matter of minutes; even against her will, as happened to other horses all the time. “Thank you for being a better friend than I am a friend to you,” Grall said with a pale, wet gleam in his eye. “What can I do to make you feel better?” “You could untie me.” But to her surprise, he didn’t. “Most grooms are a bit scared of you. You’re strong, and unlike the other horses, you’re not trained. Not properly, anyway. Most horses fear goblins — I don’t need to explain why. But you are… a strong girl. They told my father they won’t work if you’re not secured.” “They’re really that scared of me?” asked Izzy, irritated. She had seen the grooms’ reaction, but thought it was just the unusual situation. “Let’s call it respect.” He winked. “Sorry, but if you want to stay, you’ll have to be secured like any other horse. The only thing we can probably do without is the horse bit. Although it looks good on you!” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Oh, how generous. Good, whatever. But I’m going crazy here in the stable, I have to get out of here.” “I’ll get your saddle,” Grall squealed a little too happily, but Izzy stopped her friend abruptly. “Forget it. Can’t we do anything else without you riding me?” asked Izzy snappishly. “Yes, but I won’t get far with my leg. I can’t do more than a walk around the farm.” Izzy nodded dumbly. “Good, I just need to get something. Shall I take your ponytail out first?” “No!” she said a little too quickly and turned away from him. “I mean… it’s easier if it stays in, isn’t it?” Grall smiled cheekily. “Good, but you shouldn’t always wear it overnight in the future.” After a few minutes, he returned with a leash and collar. He looked at her sheepishly, but after a short sigh, she leaned forward and let him put both on. Her hands remained tied behind her back. “If you want, I can take you to your father at any time, but your arms must remain tied in the yard” The sun outside the stable was wonderful, the light breeze tickled Izzy between the legs and ruffled her mane. She felt almost free, apart from the fact that her best friend was walking her like a dog on a leash. In a strange way, this was more humiliating than life as a ponygirl — saddle, horse bit and reins were completely normal for humans on this farm, whereas this walk made her an oddity here. This was also because, unlike ponygirls, she was having a relaxed conversation with Grall. All eyes were on the unusual couple taking their walk across the courtyard, talking about the weather, the birds and some nice ruins in the forest. Everything was normal except the situation; the leash, Izzy’s slightly bent posture and the naturalness with which Grall led her behind him. It was a stark and profound contrast to the topics of conversation, and no one in the yard failed to notice. For a brief moment, Izzy almost wished she was back in the stable — only to bite her tongue just before she found the courage to ask for a horse bit. The pressure to be normal was great, even if that normality was the life of a ponygirl. Her mind wandered as Grall went on. Had her mum felt the same way when her life as a ponygirl was taken from her? Had she longed for life as a ponygirl, or did she just want to be normal again — as normal as she knew it? Izzy continued to feel the stares of the others on her, and something else dawned on her. She stopped and squeezed her legs together. “What’s wrong?” asked Grall, who was engrossed in his monologue. “Don’t ask such stupid questions, you trained me!” The little goblin winked. He led her for a walk to a tree and to her relief, he didn’t hesitate with the “Rhida Kess”. Obviously, he thought that she was already a well-behaved animal in that respect. Since she was bareback, as nature had made her, he didn’t have to undo any straps. Peeing in the yard was nothing unusual for Izzy by now, but in this case, it felt different. She wasn’t his pony, she was his friend on a leash — and that made it almost as bad as the first day. She blushed, and some of the other horses giggled. They did a few more short laps, then Izzy was back in the stable. A wave of relief washed over her after the door closed behind her. “Are you sure we don’t want to go for a ride?” he asked cautiously. “So that more people see me?” “Once your reputation is ruined, you can ride it without shame, right?” he sneered, but Izzy didn’t smile. “Are you going to sit in the stables all day? That’s nothing for a…” He stopped in time before he finished the sentence. “I mean, that must be boring for you. Wait, I have a surprise. Think about it until then, I’ll be right back.” — As promised, Grall returned to her stable half an hour later, but Izzy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw him. “Someone must have put your head on your neck the wrong way around!” she barked at him as Grall ran up to her in his finest riding gear. He had never worn special riding clothes before, and it reminded Izzy even more which of them was the rider and which was the horse. He was wearing a solid brown shirt with his mark embroidered on it — which was also painted on Izzy’s bum — and sturdy breeches, as well as dark riding boots that shone in the sun. Izzy gave him an annoyed look, especially as his outfit included two other things that made her blood boil. “Do you own another ponygirl, or do you really think you’re allowed to use that nonsense on me?” Her furious gaze fell on a riding crop on his belt and impressive spurs on his shoes. It took her a few seconds before she realised what she had just said… do you own ANOTHER ponygirl… she shuddered and hoped he hadn’t noticed. He looked at her apologetically. “These are part of the set, my father commissioned it for me — he says a rider should never look worse than his horse. What do you think, do I look good?” Izzy just grumbled, but she couldn’t help a little nod. As much as it bothered her, the clothes suited him well. No doubt he would look good in them on his ponygirl — which would be her. “You’ve got your own riding gear too, now we finally fit together. I didn’t want the whip, but my father says that sometimes you have to put a horse on the right track.” Grall scratched his neck, embarrassed. “Your father said that about me?” Izzy frowned. “I guess it was just generalised. He likes you a lot, but… when I ride you, you’re a ponygirl to him. You know that.” “It doesn’t matter, I don’t want to go riding any more. It’s only got me in trouble. Besides, it’s too boring for me, I can’t even talk because of the horse bit!” “Then let’s just leave it out. Wait, I’ve got something else for you.” Only now did Izzy realise that his riding gear wasn’t the real surprise. Instead, he took a golden coin out of his pocket, which must surely be very valuable. But it wasn’t the nominal value of the coin that interested Izzy, it was the minting. The coin must have come from a goblin kingdom, as a goblin rider and his horse could be seen on the reverse. The stamping was of the highest quality and the coin looked almost new — apart from two small teeth marks on the edge. “Why are you showing me this?” Izzy asked, but her heart was beating faster. She had an inkling of what it was, but she needed to hear it from him. “My father found the coin by chance. We’re sure it’s your mum and her prince. Look how much the horse looks like you.” And the rider like you, Izzy thought, her breath stopping for a moment. There were no pictures of her mum, but there was one right there. Pressed in gold for all eternity. “I’ll put it in your saddlebag and you’ll always have it with you when you go riding. That’s good, isn’t it? What’s wrong, why don’t you say something? We could go for a short ride, then you can think a bit.” Izzy took some time to think about it. That coin seemed like a nudge from times past, but Izzy wasn’t sure if she had needed that nudge at all to agree to go again. Despite the dangers that came with every ride and her outward reluctance, she was almost magically drawn under the saddle — she could hardly deny that it must be more than just coincidence if a girl ended up with a horse bit in her mouth as often as she did. Sure, she thought, Grall had a big part in it too, but her mother’s influence on her seemed almost overwhelming. “You’re not going to use the spore, are you?” she finally said. It felt like a defeat, even though she had decided on it herself. Why was it so difficult for her to just say no? “Actually, they’re a good idea. You’ve already got bruises from all the kicking,” he pointed to a few places where his feet had often hit her, “and they don’t hurt at all. Unless I kick properly, but that’s certainly never necessary.” “Then at least leave the crop behind.” Grall fidgeted. “Or we could give it a try… ?” Izzy jumped up and almost knocked him over. “You’re crazy, my bottom still has red welts from the branch. And it also hurt terribly. Give me the crop and I’ll show you what it feels like!” “Wait!” he squealed and jumped back a few steps. “That with Kreks was terrible, but this is different. The branch was rough and far too thin. The crop whip won’t leave a mark. I promise.” He showed her the crop, which she examined with a harsh look. “So she’s just stroking me gently?” The sarcastic undertone was unmistakable. “No, it hurts — otherwise it would be pointless — but it doesn’t leave any marks.” “Oh, that’s good then. If my best friend’s whip only hurts like hell but leaves no marks, then of course you can whip me half-naked in the forest.” Unfortunately for her, the heat between her legs returned; Grall also turned away, embarrassed. She hastily deflected. “I’m not in the mood for that now. Forget it!” “Come on, you were much faster than usual with that branch, even Kreks was impressed. Besides, it’s quite normal for a ponygirl — I’m sure I can get you to ride even faster with the crop and spurs.” “Why should I care?” “Because you still want to know how your mother felt, am I right? Besides, you’re curious to find out what you’re made of. The humans think you’re bad because you’re not like them, but together I can show you what you can do as a ponygirl. I can tell by the tip of your nose that you want to know too. Your mum was supposedly the fastest in her stable. I bet you’re faster. And you can be proud of that.” “I am fast,” she replied defiantly, thinking curiously of the coin. The prince’s whip had been clearly visible. “But why do I need you for that? I can run fast on my own.” “But not as fast as with the riding crop!” “You’d lose that bet. She realised exactly where he was trying to push her, but unfortunately for her, he pressed all the right buttons. It was never good when a friend knew you too well. “We won’t know until we try it out. What have you got to lose but a bit of pride?” Izzy’s eyes burned like fire. Grall looked at her challengingly. She knew very well that she was right, but perhaps it was time to show Grall that she didn’t need a rider. “Fine, but only once! Then you’ll see that I can manage just fine without you. And we’ll go somewhere where no people will see us!” As all the grooms were busy, Grall fetched her things himself. First, he put the saddle on her back; he looked into her eyes as he ran the strap between her legs, not missing the opportunity to run his fingers through her ponytail. With a pen, he once again drew her false registration number on her breasts — just in case, he assured her. The pony boots and bridle followed, but without the horse bit and reins; he nevertheless put the horse bit in a saddlebag. He did without the bells, which otherwise would have cost him his life that morning. “Crap, I forgot something. Wait a minute,” he said, shouting a loud “Zhrak!” as he ran, at which Izzy dropped to her knees and bowed her head as if of her own accord. She waited for him to return until she remembered that there was no reason to obey him like that! They weren’t in goblin country… she didn’t have to obey him here — and yet, she had done so, like a well-behaved mare waiting for her owner. She shuddered. Before she could get up, he was already standing in front of her, beaming, with a bag from which he took a new surprise. “A ponytail, just for you. You already have one from Werdox, but it doesn’t suit your mane. So I had a new one made.” Izzy’s gaze pierced Grall like a harpoon. “Well, the truth is… I had it done months ago. Don’t be angry with me. Come on, I’ll put it in you.” Izzy looked uncertainly at the new ponytail. The colour matched her hair perfectly, but the plug was even bigger than the previous ponytails. She was sure it would never fit inside her — although she had thought the same about the others before. “You’ll look like a queen with this. Or a queen’s horse,” he said, pulling gently on the old tail. Izzy whimpered and finally, her bum gave way and the plug slipped out. Grall threw it carelessly into a corner. “Get on your knees, please, it’ll be easier.” Izzy’s eyes glowed with shame, but she knelt down and laid her upper body in the straw so that her bum was pointing upwards. It was the perfect height for Grall to admire everything about her. What a strange development, Izzy thought as Grall pushed the large plug into her bum. Little more than a fortnight ago they were just best friends, sitting by the lake and talking about the world; now she was lying with her face in the straw and her butt up in the air while her goblin friend stuck a plug up her bum. Even though she knew exactly what had happened between those days, none of it made any sense. With a plop, the plug disappeared between her round buttocks and Grall playfully slapped her ass. He gave her a treat on his palm — which she ate greedily as always, having lost all shame by now. “Remember: only a goblin is allowed to remove your plug. If one of the other goblins sees that you’ve lost your tail, you’ll be in trouble. Tack!” Izzy nodded, Grall climbed into the saddle and tapped her with the spurs. She took off. It was true, the spurs didn’t hurt as much as they looked; still, it was humiliating. They passed Oozol’s house, who watched them both with interest. “You look good Buttercup, like a real ponygirl. And you, my son, are a very noble rider. You make a good team. But don’t be back too late.” He puffed his pipe. “Son, don’t be too generous with the crop, your animal isn’t used to it yet.” Izzy grumbled at the word animal, but in her situation a protest made no sense. Grall gave her the spurs again and they rode into the forest, past small rivers and under the crowns of mighty old trees. It was the kind of leisurely ride that Izzy knew well by now — and if she was honest, even enjoyed a little. Her ponygirl clothes were all comfortable, thanks to Grall, and her rider light as a feather; even the ponytail was a familiar companion by now, and not unwelcome to her — though she would never admit that openly. He turned with her onto a long, dusty, arrow-grace dirt track that would be ideal for their next attempt. The path seemed deserted, but they hadn’t gone five metres when they heard familiar voices from behind the trees. Izzy stopped so abruptly that Grall almost flew out of the saddle over her head. “What are you doing, inviting your friends?” She had almost forgotten that she didn’t have a horse bit in her mouth and hadn’t said anything out of habit. So much for a ride with a good conversation, she thought sarcastically. “No, it’s just a coincidence,” Grall replied. “That’s the truth, I didn’t know they were here today.” Maxi came running around the trees and waved to them. “Crap. They’ve seen us. Can I use the horse bit? They think I own you. Please!” Izzy rolled her eyes. So it was the same as always. Something happened, and then she was just a mount again — the whole world had conspired against her. But at least this was only about his friends, and they had already seen her as a horse. So it couldn’t get any worse. She sighed. “Just the attempt with the crop, no more, got it!” After Grall promised, she opened her mouth and accepted the horse bit. He gave her a little kiss on the forehead. She remembered too late that she had not yet spoken to him about his friends. Hopefully, he wouldn’t take it too far this time — but knowing Grall, she had to expect anything. Every so often, he was just a little too boastful. “Look who we have here,” Kreks said, leaning against a tree. Izzy’s heart sank into her stomach — she could have done without Kreks. Now and always. It was bad enough that she had allowed Grall to whip her like a common horse, but now there were witnesses to this terrible humiliation — and Kreks on top of that! And all because she wanted to prove to him that she was fast without him. “What are you up to, this isn’t just going to be a little ride, is it? The new tail looks good. Has your mare got used to it? Some take a while before they can walk properly with it.” “She’s a natural,” Grall replied, stroking Izzy’s head to her frustration. “You’ll see, it doesn’t bother her when she walks. In fact, I think she likes the tail a lot.” He chuckled as Izzy’s cheeks burned like fire. How dare he, just because she… she sighed. “I wanted to test how fast she is.” Mexi came forward. “Can we watch? Wait, I’ll mark the start and finish line for you. It’s best if you ride your horse round the tree back there and then come all the way back. I’m sure Buttercup is as fast as an arrow!” The girl patted Izzy’s thigh affectionately. Izzy pawed nervously with her hooves. She certainly didn’t want to lose to Grall, but even more, she didn’t want these goblins to think she was an easy horse to whip. But if she was honest, it was too late for that anyway. Kreks had already done it, and the others were only horrified because he’d overdone it, not because he’d done it at all — after all, those goblins were also responsible for the ponytail in her arse. She wiggled her bum back and forth, lost in thought, causing the tail to dangle between her legs and brush against her thighs. A shiver travelled up her spine. She neighed nervously and Grall stroked her head again, while Maxi stroked her bum tenderly and ran her fingers through the tail. “She’s already very excited. Are you sure Buttercup is ready for this?” Maxi asked anxiously. “You can still see a few welts from the branch.” She gave Kreks a reproachful look. “Absolutely!” replied Grall. “You’ll see, with the whip, she’ll be the fastest horse in the neighbourhood.” Izzy neighed again, but everyone just laughed. “You seem to be taking this very seriously,” Yreo sneered. “I made a bet with Buttercup about it. I don’t want to lose to my horse.” Yreo raised an eyebrow. “You’re betting against your horse? Don’t you have to… talk to her to do that?” It was obvious that this idea was as likely to him as the moon being made of cheese. Grall, however, was not impressed. “A good rider needs to get along with his horse.” Izzy was extremely uncomfortable with this conversation again, especially because Kreks was strangely silent about it; instead, he stared at Izzy, and there was something about his look she didn’t like. Yreo had Grall give him the whip, which he let whistle through the air several times with rapid movements. Izzy winced. “Well balanced. The leather on the handle is very soft, you’ll be able to use it for hours without your fingers hurting. That’s how it should be: Comfortable for the rider, powerful for the horse. The flap is also good, the right size and hardness for your horse to feel it well. Can I try it out?” Izzy widened her eyes. “No, it’s not a toy,” Grall said, but he chuckled. “Here, take this watch and use it to stop the time.” “Wow, a fine piece. Where did you get it?” “My father gave it to me as a reward for finally riding. He said that a real rider needs a horse, a whip, and a watch.” “How did you get such a good horse? Some say she’s not from a breeding farm, but a girl from the village,” said Yreo, and everyone looked at Grall in awe. Only Kreks continued to stare. A brief smile flitted across his face. “You turned a local girl into a ponygirl? I thought that was forbidden!” said Maxi, walking round Izzy with wide eyes, who was very uncomfortable about it. It was bad enough that she was a horse in front of these goblins, but so far at least they didn’t seem to have recognised Izzy. “That’s right,” Grall said, as if it was a given to talk about such a thing. There he was again: Grall, the braggart. “She voluntarily became my horse.” His voice brimmed with pride, and Izzy would have liked to strangle him. She neighed angrily through the horse’s bit, but the others only took her sound as confirmation. “So you got the watch for making her a ponygirl?” “Not exactly, but for riding her!” replied Grall, and Izzy would have loved to stomp on the watch. “Let’s get started. I can feel how excited Buttercup is. First, we’ll run without the whip. I don’t want anyone to accuse me of gaining an advantage!” Izzy was indeed trembling, but not from excitement: Oozol had richly rewarded Grall for putting her in a bridle and under a saddle, while her reward was a crop on her bum, oats for breakfast and a ponytail in her butt. The world was unfair and crazy. But at least it was another warning to stop playing games. It was already unwise for her to get involved in this bet, but nothing more would happen. You have to get stronger, she reprimanded herself, and say no sometimes! “I’ll give the start signal,” Mexi said and stood in front of Izzy next to the track. She smiled at Grall in a way that made Izzy a little nervous, but they would have to talk about that later. “Get your horse ready. On your marks, get set…!” Izzy felt the spurs at her side and ran. She pushed off from the start line with all her might and jumped towards the tree in more strides. It felt good to canter freely and without constraint over the course. She would show Grall how little she needed him. Her teeth pressed into the horse’s bit and she sped on along the dusty track towards the tree. Grall steered her around it in a tight turn and she made her way back with full concentration, a thick cloud of dust hot on her heels. Her eyes were narrowed to slits; her gaze was completely focussed on the rapidly approaching finish line. It was almost there, and then Grall would hear how little she needed him. She was enough for herself: fast, intelligent and independent. Not a horse that needed to be ridden or driven with a crop. He’d be eating dirt in no time once he heard the time. With steaming hooves she came to a halt behind the finish line — Gralls friends surrounded Izzy and cheered. “That was amazing, you really flew over the sand!” said Maxi, and for a moment Izzy thought the girl was going to talk to her — she had been running after all — but of course she wasn’t. No one spoke to a horse… she had done her job and made her rider proud. Nothing more was needed. “Good girl, take it easy,” Grall said as Izzy pranced around, patting her on the head. “You were really quick, you must be the fastest mare in the neighbourhood. What does the clock say?” “It took you 25 seconds. That’s a good time.” Izzy lowered her head in disappointment. That wasn’t her best time on a course like this, she’d often been faster at school. It must be Grall’s extra weight, she thought, grumbling. But at least she wasn’t going to get any faster. She already felt exhausted, it was unthinkable that she would get any faster. “Ready for round two?” Mexi asked excitedly and Grall smiled. “This is it!” he said, leading Izzy back to the start line. “Get ready!” Izzy snorted, as if Grall really had a lot to do. She felt everyone’s eyes on her, and Grall pressed deep into the saddle. He had the crop in his right hand and was already raised it high in the air, ready to give her a good crack. His legs twitched nervously with the spurs. Time seemed to stand still, even the birds flew more slowly across the sky. The smells were more intense and even Grall’s breathing seemed louder to Izzy. She closed her eyes and waited for the sign. She could have tried to cheat, of course, but that wasn’t her way. If she was going to win here, she was going to do it the honest way. “Go!” Grall spurred Izzy hard, and she took an exhausted first step. She no longer had the energy of the first race, and there was no doubt in her mind that Grall would lose his bet. But her rider must have sensed this, after the second step, the crop cracked hard on her bottom. It was a nasty pain, it exploded on her bum and made her jump forwards with a yelp, with an energy that she had never thought she had in her. She would have given anything at that moment never to feel it again, but even before the next stroke she knew that these two hundred meters or so would bring her many more blows. After a few more jumps, Grall struck again. Again Izzy leapt ahead, just to escape the pain for a moment at least. New strength coursed through her body, she was ready to give everything just to finish this race quickly. Her eyes grew damp, but that didn’t matter, she didn’t need to see, just run; direction and pace were dictated by her rider. After a few strokes, her rump slowly went numb — for which she was grateful, but Grall seemed to have expected it. He changed hands and slapped the other buttock. Izzy yipped again and Grall drove her round the tree at a fast gallop. Half the distance had been covered, but her legs and bottom were already burning. To make matters worse, the ponytail vibrated between her bum cheeks with each of the long jumps when the crop struck again. Izzy’s head was overloaded with pain, pleasure, and one thought: was this what had happened to her mother? Was this the life her mother had longed to return to? She thought of the coin and the whip in her beloved prince’s hand. Was love sometimes full of pain, or did that only apply to horses? “You can do it!” shouted Grall encouragingly. “Go on, we’re almost there. You’re doing great!” As if in reward, he hit her extra hard; but there was nothing but enthusiasm and joy in his voice, he seemed to be oblivious to her pain — or to think it was a normal part of a ponygirl’s life, which he was certainly right about. That’s how different their worlds were, even though they were so closely connected: For him, it was an adventure, a race in which he controlled the outcome. He steered her, drove her and would earn the honour in the end. Izzy, however, only got a sore bottom and the realisation that you were an animal, especially when you lost control of your life — and she had never felt that more than on this dusty road. Grall drove her on and on, the blows with the crop came fast, while he repeatedly gave her hard kicks with the spurs. Both drew a strength out of Izzy that she had previously thought impossible. “Hooo, stop!” he shouted and yanked so hard on the reins that he pulled Izzy’s head back. The metal plates in the bit pressed painfully into the roof of her mouth and onto her tongue. She planted her hooves in the dirt and skidded a few meters until she finally came to a halt. The spectators formed a circle around Izzy again, pulling Grall off his horse and congratulating him. “You’re good with a whip,” Maxi said, a special gleam in her eye as she looked at Grall. “It didn’t leave any marks on your horse either. I’m sure Buttercup barely felt it.” Izzy neighed in displeasure, but the others just laughed. “Well done,” Grall praised, but Izzy was nervous. She suspected it was going to be closer than first thought. “Unbelievable, you’ve improved it to 23 seconds! Now Buttercup really is the fastest horse in the neighbourhood!” A wild storm raged inside Izzy. On one hand, she was proud of her achievement — as Grall had predicted — but then there was also this deep shame that she really had to rely on a rider to do her best. What a disgrace! She had accomplished something great, but only because she had allowed herself to be turned into an animal. It was the horse that had won, not the human. Grall will surely remind her of this to the end of her days. “The crop made Buttercup two seconds faster,” Maxi cheered, hugging the bright red goblin, and Izzy hung her head. “That really is a big difference, she responds great to whipping, you should always do that from now on.” Izzy’s heart sank into her non-existent trousers. What a ghastly realisation, Izzy thought, but Grall looked extremely pleased. He tapped her bottom playfully with the crop and winked at her. “Don’t worry, Buttercup, we’ll talk about this later, I promise.” His friends looked at him in amazement again, but at least this time he hadn’t completely forgotten that she wasn’t really his property; and that he only had her permission for this ride. Kreks grumbled. “There you see what a rider can do. Imagine how fast she would have been with a real rider. No offence, Grall, but you’re mediocre at best. My father wants to buy me a new horse. What do you want for her?” “How much are you offering?” asked Grall, and Izzy struggled against her reins. How could he think he could sell her? “Easy Buttercup, I was only joking. Sorry, you’re not for sale, of course. I wouldn’t even sell you if I could. Never!” “Rubbish.” Kreks crossed his arms. “Every animal has its price. Come on, what do you want for her? Or is she not yours at all?” Grall stared at him, speechless. “What? No, what are you talking about…”, he fumbled around. He looked around for help, but the other goblins also seemed to be waiting for an answer. Izzy stood rooted to the spot and listened. “Of course she’s mine! She’s my ponygirl. Everyone knows that!” Mexi nodded with satisfaction. “There you see it. She’s his property.” “That’s right,” Grall said in a thin voice and stroked the trembling Izzy’s shoulder. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m not selling her. She remains in my stable, eats my animal food and wears my saddle. She’s my horse and she’ll stay that way forever. That’s it!” Another shiver ran down Izzy’s spine. Grall’s words were well-intentioned, but they were almost more of a warning to her than a clarification for Kreks. “Then I’ll speak to your father. He deals in ponygirls, he might see it differently,” Kreks said firmly. He pulled out a piece of paper and copied down the number of Izzy’s bosom. “What are you doing?” asked Yreo. “I’m going to check her details in the ponygirl registry, so I know her bloodline. Then my father can make a fair offer for her.” “You can’t do that!” shouted Grall excitedly. “That’s none of your business.” “Anyone can look at the register, it’s public. All horses are catalogued there. Or…” Kreks looked sharply at Grall. “You know what the penalty is for simply turning a normal girl into a ponygirl and not following the rules. Did you force her?” Izzy looked over her shoulder at Grall, who shifted nervously in the saddle. “All the better. Then you’ll go to prison — or worse — and I might be able to get her anyway. From the look of her, she’s enough of a ponygirl that she’ll be confiscated and auctioned off, so her family can get compensation. A ponygirl is always for life, even if she became one involuntarily. But you’ll get in trouble for it!” “Don’t talk nonsense!” hissed Grall. “I didn’t force her to do anything.” “Then she’s cleanly registered?” Kreks probed. “We’ll see about that. And even if she’s not, I’ll get her anyway.” “Fine, then check. You’ll see, she’s mine and you’ll never get her!” Grall trembled with tension. “She belongs to ME! And ONLY ME!” Kreks laughed dirty. “I hope you’re right, otherwise your Buttercup will soon be standing in my stable, feeling my whip as she rides!” Izzy looked after him anxiously. Was that really possible? She felt herself losing her footing. Once again, she had led herself into a trap. Silly girl, she chided herself, you knew the danger and yet, you let it happen again. She looked over her shoulder at Grall, but his ashen face almost froze her heart. A bad solution Grall hurried Izzy away from his friends. That was fine by her, she wanted to get home as quickly as possible — or rather, back to the farm. “Crap. Crap. CRAP!’ he shouted upset; she could feel the trembling in his hands from the reins and how they pulled more roughly than necessary on the bit in her mouth. But worse than that, she felt the sting of the whip on her bottom; she grumbled, but whatever got her out of here faster was fine with her for now. Her tired legs drummed over the dusty path at a fast pace and Izzy’s mind raced with them; it was a wild jumble of ideas, hope, and worries. Even without the bit, she wouldn’t have been able to get a word out. The courtyard was the usual bustle of activity as it always was at this time of day, and only Oozol took any notice of their return. The old goblin sat in his rocking chair, enjoying the day and puffing on his pipe. “You’re back early, did the whip work well?” He laughed lightly. “Don’t hold it against him, Buttercup. I remember getting my first whip as a youngster. The poor ponygirl had to endure a lot over the following weeks. But that’s the way young men are; you’ll get used to it.” She grumbled; why did she have to get used to it? But of course, she knew why: he was the rider with the whip, she was the horse that was driven with it. “Something’s wrong, I can see it in your eyes. Go on, tell me.” “Maybe it’s nothing whatsoever…” Grall mumbled, forcing a fake smile. Izzy shook her head vigorously until Grall finally took the bit out. “Kreks wants me as his ponygirl. But I’m not a ponygirl, I don’t belong to anyone!” She stamped so hard that one of the horses was spooked and threw its rider off. The groom looked angrily at Izzy, but she didn’t care. To hell with them, this was about her future! The old goblin sighed. “You two are still young, you don’t understand how the world works. Everything has its rules, and you can’t always choose them. People see you as a rider and a horse, so they expect you to behave like that.” “It’s all your fault Grall, just because you had to show them that you had a ponygirl!” “I’m really, deeply sorry!” he blurted out. They had developed a certain routine with these conversations, which got on Izzy’s nerves. She couldn’t buy anything from his apologies either… “You have to tell them that you don’t own me and that I’m not a ponygirl!” “There’s another way of looking at it,” Oozol disagreed, to Izzy’s horror. “We goblins are governed by customary law. Buttercup, you can’t let a goblin ride you almost every day — even with a horse bit, whip, and ponytail! — and then think you’re not a horse. For crying out loud, even at this moment my son is riding you! That’s just silly. Make it official — or stop it altogether. You’re both confused and don’t know where you belong. But if you’re not careful, that choice will be taken away from you.” “I can’t go on!” said Izzy, her whole body shaking. “Kreks wrote down the registration number and said I’d be confiscated if there was anything wrong with it. Oozol crossed his arms. “Kreks’ father visited the farm recently to inquire about Grall’s horse. That struck me as a bit odd. Tell me exactly what he said.” Grall swallowed and didn’t miss a single detail. “So he’s serious,” Oozol said thoughtfully. “They must have planned this together, it’s unlikely that Kreks knows the law that well. That leaves us little time to act.” “They’re not really going to confiscate me and put me up for auction, are they?” Izzy shouted anxiously. “That’s not possible!” Deep wrinkles appeared on the old goblin’s forehead, the likes of which Izzy had never seen before. “We live close to the humans here, and many of our rules and laws are not enforced for the sake of peace. We don’t capture girls here, and we don’t force them under the saddle. All the ponygirls come from far away, so they don’t have a family and history in this land. If Kreks’ father claims that Buttercup was forced, my son could be punished for it. A lack of registration is a strong argument in his favour. But even if Buttercup was a ponygirl by choice, it wouldn’t change anything because there are now too many goblins who have seen her as a mare; they’ll argue that she’s already a horse and forced registration is necessary — if Kreks beats us to it, Buttercup becomes his property. You must understand that there is a deep belief among us goblins that a ponygirl is no longer human and therefore cannot return to its kind. Whether you are a human or a ponygirl would be decided by a council that has never released a girl. In other cases, perhaps the humans would intervene, but your school should be a warning to us that this may not happen to you.” Oozol paused and looked Izzy straight in the eyes. “If Kreks’ father lays claim to you, you may soon bear his brand.” He slapped her on the spot where Grall’s symbol was painted on. Grall had gone completely pale. “We have to protect Izzy. There must be something we can do!” “Kreks’ father is a tough guy. He didn’t get rich by passing up opportunities. No, this is a serious situation. There’s only one solution: we need to register Buttercup as soon as possible. We need copies of the official documents, and we also need the number on her. Only when we are sure that everything is in order and up to date will she be safe.” “That’s impossible!” Grall objected vigorously. “I promised her that I wouldn’t force her! I won’t break that promise. Never! To hell with Kreks, if he gets too close to Izzy, I’ll crack the whip across his face!” “I don’t want that!” A tear ran down Izzy’s face. “There must be another way.” Grall stroked her head reassuringly from the saddle, and Izzy pressed herself against his hand. It was clearly all his fault, but the touch still felt good. Oozol crossed his arms. “If only you had ridden her unseen, we would have options. But there are too many witnesses and evidence. None of us here is forcing Buttercup, but we can’t change the laws. If we don’t do it, Kreks’ father will.” The conversation had not escaped the notice of the grooms or the horses; they stood conspicuously unobtrusive nearby, listening. “It’s Buttercup’s choice. She must decide.” Grall shook his head. “She’s not a real ponygirl, she’s just playing!” His voice cracked; Izzy knew that tone all too well — it was the voice of the little boy she’d known for so many years, desperately rebelling in the evening against the fact that the sun was already setting and their fun was about to end for the day. Izzy nodded vigorously. “I’m not a horse!” she said again, although of course she realised the irony of her situation. It wasn’t easy to say something like that with the big plug of a ponytail stuck up your bum and a tax tag paid for by Grall rubbing against your thigh. “I hope you both realise how stupid that sounds,” Oozol grumbled. “We’re goblins, we ride humans. We’ve been doing it for hundreds of years; it’s part of our faith! It’s a very delicate matter when you live so close to humans, as we do. There are laws — those of the humans, and those of us goblins — that protect our peace, including making a clear distinction between humans and ponygirls. With Buttercup here, it should be clear by now which side she belongs to.” “Then I’ll just stop. We deny everything!” Izzy howled again. “You’re welcome to, but even then, common law applies. You would be an unregistered ponygirl that Kreks’ father will register on himself. As I’ve just explained, you can’t escape that truth. You’ve drawn too much attention to yourself — the game has become serious. You are a ponygirl, the rest is a formality. The registration only determines who becomes your owner. Either you’ll be our horse or Kreks’.” “You should have warned us,” grumbled Grall from the saddle. His eyes narrowed to thin slits. “I don’t remember suggesting you show yourselves to God-and-the-world as horse and rider. That was your choice. Besides, Matheus has told me that he taught Izzy about our customs; she was aware of the customary law, and so were you. You are both adults and must live with the consequences of your actions.” “But…” Izzy began. “Zhrak!” Oozol commanded in a loud, sharp voice and Izzy moved into a kneeling position as if of her own accord — which annoyed her terribly, but she remained in place anyway. He stroked her cheek tenderly. “It’s too late for a BUT. The best I can offer is silence. At least with the humans. With us goblins, you have to become a ponygirl, one way or another. You humans are good at ignoring the obvious; with any luck, you will be able to lead a halfway normal human life after a while — but as Buttercup, you must become a horse. It’s risky, but that’s all we can do.” Izzy swallowed. “So it’s like my mother?” “Not quite, only a few goblins knew about the registration back then. It won’t be that easy in your case, but it’s not hopeless. We still must act quickly. However, we do have an advantage over Kreks; do you know what it is?” She shook her head and stared at him with wide eyes. What did they have that Kreks didn’t? The mean little goblin must already be sitting with his father, searching out the most painful brand for her. The thought made her sick to her stomach. “The lineage is officially continued through the mother. Since your mother legally belonged to me — even if only a few people knew that — I have a claim to her foal. To you. Only on paper, of course, your father and I agreed that you were human.” Izzy’s whole body trembled. This thing was turning out to be an absolute horror, and it was getting worse with each passing day. She was slipping deeper and deeper into this world and there seemed to be no way back. “Do I have to live here?” “Horses don’t live in a stable, they are kept in a stable,” Oozol corrected her. “I’m sorry, but I think it will be easier for you if you accept the truth. It will be better if you stay with us until things have calmed down a bit. But that also means that you will be a ponygirl during this time; without any ifs or buts. Grall should ride you regularly to strengthen his claim on you.” He waited for Izzy to digest this news; a thousand thoughts flitted across her face, but Oozol gave her all the time she needed. “One warning, though: if a goblin sees you later as a human with the number, he’ll think you’re a runaway ponygirl and recapture you. If you’re lucky. But if you’re unlucky, you’ll end up with a horse thief. It would be better if we brand you straight away. Then you’d be harder to steal.” “No!” Grall and Izzy shouted together. Oozol just shrugged his shoulders. “That’s your risk then. But you’ll have to take responsibility for the consequences yourselves.” “And after registration, I’m Grall’s…” Izzy almost choked on the word, “… property?” “Actually, you’ll be mine, but I’ll quickly gift you to him.” All this news overwhelmed Izzy. Now she was at the point where she could be gifted away. A few more days and she would become the property of her best friend and officially live in a — his, no, her! — stable. What madness still awaited her? “Only the registration number is compulsory, it will be painted under the skin and will never disappear. That’s the price for your foolery.” “And what price does Grall pay?” Izzy asked mockingly; she looked over her shoulder at Grall, who was sitting in her saddle with his head bowed. “My dear child, you are the animal in this world, not him. You lose your freedom, he gains an extremely valuable ponygirl. That’s the way it is and there’s nothing I can do about it. But even if it seems unfair to you, I assure you that we will take good care of you. I promised your mother that back when you were born, and I’m sticking to it.” This truth hit Izzy hard. “What if I just run away?” “Then they’ll probably put Grall in prison and hunt you down.” “But… but… I don’t want that!” pleaded Izzy. “Grall, you didn’t want to force me!” “I’m not forcing you; but I guess I can’t protect you from the world either.” Grall’s voice was weak and several times he sniffled and wiped his face dry. He took Izzy’s head in his hand and rested his forehead against it. “It’s too late, we’ve made a big mistake. But I’ll look after you, I promise!” He leant forwards out of the saddle and gave her a kiss on the lips. He had never kissed her like that before! She opened her eyes wide and looked straight into his soul as the taste of earth and friendship wandered over her lips. Something in his gaze told her that she had no choice; but also that there was no other goblin she could trust as much; despite the many mistakes he had made in recent days and weeks, he was still her best — and only — friend. He was her anchor in the storm, albeit one that was dragging her down slowly. She didn’t take her eyes off him. “If there’s no other way, then we’ll do it. But I only agree because I have no other choice. I want to continue being human whenever possible!” “That’s how we’ll do it!” said Grall firmly. “You’ll only ever be a ponygirl for the first few weeks, after that, we’ll find a way.” He reached into his pocket, but Izzy stopped him. “Just the bare minimum, no ring!” she ordered in a clear tone. She wasn’t prepared to give up more than was necessary. Oozol waved a groom over. “When will the veterinarian be back at the farm? He can officially apply the registration number.” “Tomorrow, my master. He’s moved the appointment up because he’ll be out of the country for a few weeks. If you want to register Buttercup, it’s the last chance. But there won’t be enough time to…” “Don’t worry about that. The papers and the number will be there in time. My word carries a lot of weight when it comes to things like this, after all, most of the ponygirls on the register come from my farm.” This news took Izzy by surprise. “Tomorrow already?” “Better get it over with quickly.” Oozol sent the groom away. “You don’t have to worry, registering a new ponygirl is a routine here.” Izzy snorted. So it was just routine for Oozol to turn her life upside down. Of course, she thought, even though she often ignored it, Oozol was dealing with women who had been ripped from their lives and were now forced into a life as a horse. In that sense, she was still doing well — at least she was asked. Sunshine hadn’t had that luck. “That settles everything. Tomorrow Buttercup will officially become a ponygirl, and you, my son, will soon get your first horse. Despite the difficult situation, it also makes me a little proud that you will be getting such a good mount. Her mother was a magnificent mare in all respects. The best there ever was in these lands.” Once again, Izzy looked to her best friend. “You’re never going to… sell me, are you?” “No, never!” he assured her with fervour. “Screw Kreks! Besides, I’d never get a horse that good again.” He tried a weak grin. There he was again, the silly little boy tripping over his own feet. Izzy looked deep into his eyes once more. “Tell me you’re not happy with this.” The young goblin shifted unsteadily in the saddle. “I don’t want you to be forced into this.” “But…?” Izzy asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “I want you to be free and decide for yourself what you do with your life. But maybe it’s your destiny. If there hadn’t been a war, you’d be the prince’s official mare now, while your mother would be the king’s horse.” He stroked her hair. “I’m almost sorry you can’t be that. But at least you can be the best horse in the whole neighbourhood. I may not be a king, but you’ll always be special to me. Come, I’ll take you to the stable.” He gave her a little kick, but it took Izzy a few minutes to make a move. He let her take her time; she was completely lost in her thoughts — he really got her thinking. What could have been if it hadn’t been for the war? What would her life have been like as the prince’s ponygirl, in a royal stable full of other horses; admired, loved, ridden and groomed? It was a strange thought, and although it frightened her, she also felt cheated of that life in a strange way. Now she had her own life as a ponygirl in front of her, only there was no prince or king to be seen in it. — Matheus sighed. “You two have never known when enough is enough.” He leaned on the lower half of the stable door and examined his daughter. “You’ve always looked a lot like your mother, but as a ponygirl, you could be her sister. It was always important to me that you had the opportunity to grow up as a human — but perhaps you were always destined for this path; your mother was from one of the oldest recorded lines of ponygirls, after all. Who knows what traces breeding leaves on us humans. We all claim to have free will, but then there are these inexplicable instincts deep inside us…” A loud gulp from Izzy was the only response. She had a bit in her mouth again and lowered her gaze; her father made no move to remove the bit, there was probably nothing she needed to say about it. But the truth was that she wouldn’t have allowed him to take it out — as much as she didn’t like the horse bit otherwise, at that moment it reassured her and was like a small step towards a future that she couldn’t prevent anyway. She ran to him and he hugged her tightly. “Don’t be afraid. There’s no shame in being a ponygirl, your mother was a horse for most of her life and never spoke ill of that time. I think she even missed the ponytails — but please don’t ask me how I know that.” He giggled. “If that’s your future, then I’m here for you. Don’t worry, your mother also belonged to Oozol and there were never any problems. To be on the safe side, I’ll talk to him anyway. When things have calmed down, you can return home if Grall doesn’t need you for a ride. Remember that you are his in the future; surely he will use you as he sees fit. That’s what ponygirls are for.” Izzy whimpered. “I’m travelling for the next few days. I only came to say goodbye, but now it’s good that we could talk again. I love you…” Izzy’s father seemed to ponder for a moment, as if two figures were sitting on his shoulder, arguing over the next word. “… Buttercup. At least you’ll have to be that for the next few days, then we’ll see.” Izzy made a face. This wasn’t the kind of conversation she was used to – but as a ponygirl it would probably always be like this now. Her father closed the stable door and left Izzy in the dark, only her name — her horse’s name — lingered in the silence. — Izzy stood nervously in the stable and waited. It was already early morning and no one had told her when the veterinarian would be coming. She had been talking to Grall all evening and had finally asked him not to be there for the registration. She was simply too embarrassed to have him watch her being registered. In the morning, Oozol and Grall had taken a cart with two ponygirls and travelled to Udamos. The sun was already high in the sky when a large cart — pulled by three sturdy ponygirls — rolled into the courtyard. The grooms made the necessary space for him and the veterinarian set up his temporary station next to his cart. It was a wild hodgepodge of glasses, instruments, a strange rack and various books and notes. Everything seemed disorganised and chaotic, and yet it seemed to follow an inner logic that was probably only apparent to the veterinarian himself. The man was a stout, middle-aged goblin, his drooping ears were larger than average, but his eyes were hidden behind thick glasses. “Hello everyone, I hope you haven’t missed me,” he piped cheerfully, waving to the ponygirls in their stables, some of whom were even blushing. He tucked his hands into two thick gloves and threw on a leather coat. “Please bring me the first horse, then we can start straight away.” To Izzy’s surprise, Pexo went straight to her stable. “We’ll start with you; he gets a bit sloppy over time, so we always start with the registrations. Please be good, this is an official task,” Pexo explained, and Izzy nodded. It wasn’t common among the goblins to explain things to a ponygirl, but in this case, she was truly grateful for it. “I’ll have to secure you, it’s common for horses to do so in such examinations.” He put a particularly tight ankle cuff on her, and made sure her arms were tied behind her back. She was also given a muzzle instead of a bit. “The muzzle is mandatory for new ponygirls during the inspections.” He also added the usual collar and leash so that he could lead Izzy to the veterinarian. “Luckily for you, your papers arrived just in time. The master really does have excellent contacts with the authorities.” Izzy snorted. Luck…. as if! They had barely left the barn when new visitors arrived at the farm. “Hurry, we’re almost too late!” shouted an elderly lady, followed by a couple of girls like a flock of goslings. They were all human. “It’s been a long journey, I know, but this is the best ponygirl farm in the area. Class, please spread out around the veterinarian’s workspace.” Izzy recognised the school class from a distant neighbouring town and whimpered. She didn’t know the teacher or the pupils personally, but she had seen the lady before; she couldn’t do more than hope that nobody recognised her. It was a strange feeling to be led naked to a vet in front of so many people, but Izzy swallowed the thought. She didn’t have a choice anyway, this wasn’t voluntary after all. The girls stared at her. “Is that a ponygirl?” a red-haired girl quipped. “This here is Buttercup,” Pexo explained, stopping with Izzy in front of the schoolgirls, much to her displeasure. “She’s being registered as a ponygirl today. She has voluntarily chosen to become a ponygirl.” Izzy’s ears turned red with embarrassment. He didn’t have to say that, too! “Who does something like that? Is she… stupid?” asked another girl with freckles on her face. “But no, that’s a good thing. She’s doing an important service for us goblins, and we’re thankful to her. If more girls volunteer, it would be of immense value for the peace between humans and goblins. She’ll be registered today, but first she’ll get a full physical examination, which will go on her record.” Izzy grumbled. Nobody had told her anything about this, including the spectators. Was there any other misfortune in this world that hadn’t happened to her? She looked around for help, but as Grall and Oozol were not there — at her request — there was no one to talk to about it. She looked towards the stables and Sunshine watched her sympathetically. “Tie the mare to the rack, please,” the vet asked. “My name is Doctor Sekor, and today you will learn how a veterinarian examines livestock, and in particular a ponygirl. Take a good look, ladies, perhaps you would like to follow this ponygirl’s example and register yourselves too.” “What if a girl decides to try being a ponygirl but doesn’t like it? “Then she’s made a mistake,” said Pexo, laughing out loud. “Ponygirls are registered for life, like Buttercup here.” He patted her lightly on the bum, then led her to the rack. It had a few attachments on a metal plate, and a few more — height-adjustable — tubes that Izzy had to bend over. She quickly realised how it worked: her hands and legs were tied to the metal plate on all fours, while the frame ensured that she maintained as straight a position as possible. Her head was secured in a special restraint; she could no longer move it and could only stare straight ahead. Nevertheless, she felt the eyes of the girls on her, who could now really admire everything about her in all its splendour. She shook the restraints slightly, but nothing moved even a little. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t move again until the vet had finished with her. “Aren’t you worried that she’ll… well… go everywhere?” one girl asked, her face grimacing. “Not at all. Ponygirls are conditioned very early on to ensure that this doesn’t happen. Our Buttercup here won’t do anything like that outside her stable without instructions, am I right?” He stroked her back, which gave Izzy goose bumps. “Let’s get started then,” he said and stood next to the well-secured Izzy. “As you can see, the animal has been tied to the rack — this is to make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone while we examine it. Many horses are anxious when they first visit a veterinarian. But this horse here seems very tame to me, which is not unusual for volunteer ponygirls. As you can see, it’s also a gorgeous specimen.” “Well, I think she’s a bit… rough,” one girl mocked. “It may be true for you humans, but different rules apply to a horse. Look at her wide hips and round rump. That’s ideal for a saddle, as are her strong shoulders. Her robust build allows her to pull heavy carts and ride long distances. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought this animal was a breeding pony. What a stroke of luck that she volunteered.” There was no end to the children’s laughter, and Izzy felt transported back to her school. But here the situation was more serious, and she didn’t really care about the children. This was about her, and that was much more important. “Let’s start with an initial assessment. The skin looks good, but we need to remove these silly drawings and give it a real registration number.” “The owner wants the number to be adopted, it has a personal meaning,” Pexo interjected. “We’ve just received the papers.” He handed the vet a stack of slips of paper, which also already bore an official seal. “All you have to do is confirm that the horse has been registered.” “Fine by me, there’s just one thing that’s strange,” said the vet, adjusting his glasses. “The date of registration is just a few days after her date of birth.” Pexo coughed sheepishly, and Izzy also listened carefully to the groom’s explanation. No one had told her anything about backdating the registration. “You have good eyes. Buttercup is the daughter — the foal — of a mare with a long lineage as a ponygirl. But unfortunately, because of the war, Buttercup didn’t become a ponygirl straight away. In order not to jeopardise peace with the humans, Mr Oozol wants her registration to be backdated. That way, we can treat this case as if Buttercup had always been a ponygirl. Her mother belonged to my master, so surely something can be done, right?” Izzy was amazed at how logical it all sounded — probably also because there was some truth in it. She looked eagerly at the doctor, who smiled quickly. “Why not, we’ll do anything for peace, after all. But first I want to hear from the horse that she’s really doing it voluntarily.” He looked Izzy in the eye. “You really decided to become a ponygirl of your own free will? Without coercion?” Izzy nodded. “Please be so good as to say it out loud. The audience will serve as witnesses. There must be no doubts about such serious matters. If you say no, you will be released immediately, and I will personally ensure that you are taken to a safe place.” Izzy nodded gratefully, even though this was not her way out. With her face contorted, she managed to get out the necessary words. “No one is forcing me; I’m here by choice and I want to be a… ponygirl.” That wasn’t the truth, but she knew the alternative all too well. A loud murmur went through the audience — many of the girls looked disgusted. “Thank you very much, then we can continue.” He seemed to have quickly forgotten that she was intelligent and could speak. “This horse looks very alert, that’s a good sign. Let’s have a look at her teeth.” He released the muzzle and Izzy instinctively opened her mouth. “Good girl. You’re well-behaved. Your owner will have a lot of fun with you.” Izzy turned even redder at the praise. “Your teeth are in good condition, they’re all still there. Slight signs of a bit, you’ve probably been ridden a few times.” He fastened a bulky horse bit into Izzy’s mouth and secured it with a strap behind her head, then turned to the other girls. “That’s not uncommon, most volunteer ponygirls have a history, and don’t make up their minds blindly. Let’s have a look at the other end. Just as I thought, you can see traces of saddle straps between her legs; in fact, she also has marks on her back and arms. This animal has been ridden a lot; the marks on her anus clearly show that she was wearing a ponytail not so long ago.” Again, the pack burst out laughing, but Izzy had already endured too much to be shaken by this. “It’s very nice for many ponygirls to be ridden. If you’d like to try it, I’m sure the farm could organise something.” The girls all declined politely. “However, it’s unusual to tax a ponygirl before registration. All right, let’s move to the first tests.” Izzy heard a few surprised “Ohhs,” behind her, then she felt something ice-cold against her bottom. It slid right in. “The thermometer is very unpopular with some animals, but it’s a must. Rules are rules.” The glass flask was cold and thick, and a humiliation she would have gladly done without. But worse than the flask in her bottom was the realisation that she had absolutely no say in the matter. This wasn’t her first visit to a doctor, but it was the first time that a doctor had spoken to her as if she were a human being, only to shove a glass flask deep up her bum shortly afterwards — without asking. The brief moment as a human had deceived her about how much she really had no say as an animal. She wiggled her bottom in irritation, which was immediately commented on. “She seems to like that,” said the teacher. “It’s probably one of THOSE girls. Watch out carefully, or you’ll end up like that too!” “Behave yourself, lady. This horse will be part of a stable with the best reputation. No need to be mean,” warned the doctor, who was clearly proud of his work. “I agreed to your visit on the assumption that you wanted to inform your students neutrally about the subject of ponygirls. If you don’t show the necessary seriousness, this demonstration will end immediately. This is honourable work with animals.” “But that’s a girl!” exclaimed the girl with the freckles. Sekor swayed his head back and forth. “That was certainly true in the past, but now — here and at this moment, and from now on, for all time — she is an animal. A horse. A ponygirl. This is the way that has brought peace to humans and goblins. If you are interested in this peace, then you should not look down on her, but ask yourself if it is not worth doing the same!” Izzy would have loved to warn the girls about this and share her story with them, but this was not the place or the time. But it seemed the girls were scared off enough as it was. Good! “Never!” shouted some of the girls. “Then at least be quiet while I do my work,” said Sekor angrily. “The thermometer can stay in for a while — she really seems to like it — and we’ll give her a few injections meanwhile.Vaccinations and the necessary ones against worms and other vermin. It’s the law for all ponygirls.“ He gave her the injections directly into her buttocks — dozens, Izzy counted unhappily. In the end, he also took out the thermometer and inserted a couple of large suppositories instead; again, of course, without asking. Finally, he pressed a large “Veterinary exam passed” stamp directly onto her forehead. “Now just a few small jobs — I see this horse doesn’t have breast rings yet. These are common nowadays, do you want her to have some?” Pexo shrugged his shoulders. “I wasn’t told about that, but a few of the other horses have them too. But why not? Is there anything else to do?” “She still has all her teeth, which is unfavourable for bits in the long term.” The young groom was visibly overwhelmed. “Do whatever you think is right!” Izzy trembled. Was the registration not enough, what was all that about? What kind of breast rings, and what was wrong with her teeth? Before she could think about it any further, the doctor bent down to her sagging breasts. “She will be able to nurse many foals with them. But for now, there are breast rings so you can control her better.” He took a pair of large metal rings and a special plier with which he attached the rings to her nipples. It hurt terribly, but tied up like this, Izzy had no choice. “The next step is a little more painful, but we have some good medicine.” He held a small bottle under Izzy’s nose, which made her dizzy for a moment. Before she knew what was happening, she had a large frame in her mouth, forcing her jaw open. The doctor reached into her mouth with a force, and she felt a strong tug that she would never have expected from this man. He propped his legs up against the frame, twisted and squeezed, then the first tooth came loose. He threw it to the side and continued. Izzy’s head was still spinning, the pain seemed to come from a great distance. One tooth after another followed, then 8 molars lay on the floor, and Izzy’s mouth had a lot of new space for a bit. The doctor sprayed a thick liquid on the wounds and the distant pain immediately subsided, Izzy’s head also cleared up. “Brave girl, you’ll soon be through it.” He had a pile of sheets brought to him and hurriedly filled everything in. He was also handed the declarations from Oozol and Matheus, as well as the documents from Izzy’s mother. “So mother and daughter have the same name. That’s wonderful. Buttercup, I like it.” He stroked Izzy’s head and smiled at her with the sincere warmth of a man who had dedicated his life to animals — of which Izzy was now one. Izzy stared nervously at a small device into which the doctor was pouring some colour. “Let’s move on to the last step.” With skilful hands, he removed the old number from her breasts and put the machine on. It stung terribly, each needle digging deep into the sensitive skin of her breasts, and it seemed to take hours before the number was finally finished. In reality, it was only minutes, but Izzy had lost all sense of time. She hung powerlessly in the rack and just waited for him to finish. The doctor smeared a protective paste on her chest, then signalled to the groom. “Now Buttercup is a ponygirl for life. That’s worth a little reward, don’t you think?” He took one of the treats out of a bag, which Izzy was almost addicted to by now. She ate from his hand without hesitation. “There you see, a good horse knows when it has earned a treat. These sweets are made according to ancient goblin methods: Their recipe has been passed down among the goblins for centuries; they are said to make the ponygirls big and strong, but also tame and more docile. That’s quite possible, and my observations confirm it.” Izzy almost choked on the candy. Did these sweets really have this effect? Was that why she had become so willing to put up with all this? She swallowed the sweet and grumbled. “Then again, it could just be a nice story to make us goblins feel a bit more comfortable around such strong animals. Who knows for sure? Would any of you like to try one?” All the girls declined, especially under the stern gaze of their teacher. “Good, then Buttercup can go back to the stable now. It’s been a big day for her.” He slapped her lightly on the bottom and the schoolgirls laughed as Izzy was taken back to the stables — her official home — with little tripping steps. She was now a ponygirl, a horse; an animal owned by a goblin and now wore Grall’s personal number permanently on her breast. Soon she would officially belong to him too, but until then, she was the property of Oozol. She looked out of the stables and watched the girls leave after an hour, chattering — free people who could do whatever they wanted, while Izzy stayed behind as a horse. The punishment Izzy’s heart raced as she stood back in her stable. It had really happened — she was officially a ponygirl. A horse. An animal according to the goblins. She looked down and stared at her body: she really was a ponygirl, through and through, there was no longer any doubt about it. On her feet were the sturdy pony boots with their hooves, which announced her every step with an unmistakable knock-knock-knock. The tax tag dangled between her legs — paid for by Grall, a disgrace she would not soon forget. On the other side, she felt the large plug stuck in her bum, the ponytail sticking out and tickling her thighs. Further up, her eyes caught two shiny rings that would soon be used to tie her up somewhere; above them, a number with jet black numbers was tattooed on her breast, telling everyone immediately that she was nothing but cattle. She belonged to someone; like a chair, a house — or a cow. She sighed. That was all she had left because the horse bit in her mouth — held by a tight bridle around her head — was the last missing piece of the puzzle that was necessary for her transformation into a horse. Only the saddle and reins were missing, but a ponygirl didn’t wear such things in the stable. Ponygirl, it echoed in her head. It was unbelievable and utterly wrong. And yet, it was true, she was standing in a stable waiting for her owner. O-W-N-E-R! Her stomach turned at the mere idea. Even she — who had accepted each of the many changes far too easily until now — was struck by this notion like a hammer blow. She leant against the wall and took a deep breath. But whose fault was that? … Her own, Izzy had to admit with sagging shoulders. As much as Grall had a part in it — and there was no doubt about that, he had had the saddle made in the first place — she had to accept her own part in it. She would have liked to slap herself for it, but with her arms tied behind her back, that wasn’t an option. Another sign that she was a horse. She berated herself for being so foolish and allowing a saddle on her back just because of her mother. No, she corrected herself, she had wanted it. That was the final mistake — that, and thinking goblins would take her — a ponygirl — to a goblin party. It had all gone down the drain after that. The ponytail, being seen on her way home, the school… her life had been like a row of dominoes, and that night the first dominoes had finally fallen. If only she had listened better to her father’s warning. She slid to the floor and felt the ponytail in her bum. Well, not everything was bad, she had to admit, and she didn’t mind the rides per se; nature was wonderful, and Grall as a rider gave her the opportunity to let her thoughts wander freely. But that didn’t change the fact that she was about to lose her future. No tail up her bottom could make up for that. — The hours passed slowly, and it was almost evening when the cart with Oozol and Grall pulled into the courtyard. The young goblin immediately jumped down and ran to Izzy. He stormed into her stable — but first put something next to the stable door so that Izzy couldn’t see it — and found her huddled in a corner. “How are you?” asked Grall; his voice was full of concern, but also a hint of excited curiosity — which was not surprising, after all, he got a precious ponygirl that day. He carefully sat down next to her in the dry straw and gave her a gentle hug. Izzy allowed it; Grall straightened up again and looked at Izzy closely. “He did the number well, the digits are finely worked. He knows his trade. Before you say anything, nobody said anything about rings. I promise!” He bit his lip. “But… maybe it’s quite practical… wait, listen to me first, please! My father is serious about you living as a ponygirl for the first few days or weeks. It’s safer that way. But it also means that you’ll always have to be tied up like all the other horses — I mean, like the real ponygirls, of course. Otherwise, you would always need a collar or a horse bit, but this way I can secure you just like that. I know it’s annoying, but you’ll have to get used to it… for sure” Izzy grumbled angrily, trying to tell him something through the horse bit. As always, it sounded more like a whinny, but Grall was smart enough to take the horse bit out of her mouth in a hurry. She stretched her jaw before she spoke. “Great, then I have something to look forward to…” she said sarcastically. The words came out with difficulty, her tongue felt strangely wide because of her missing teeth. “Besides, that’s not all!” She opened her mouth wide so that Grall could see the vet’s dirty deed. “It looks good,” he complimented, as if he was admiring the paint job on a new house rather than Izzy’s missing molars. “We didn’t ask for that either, of course, but I was worried about the bit damaging your teeth. Nobody likes a horse with toothache; my father says it’s very uncomfortable when wearing a horse bit. The bit will also fit better now, so you can keep it in for a longer on lengthy rides.” He was right about that, Izzy knew, but it didn’t really reassure her. There was something dangerous in her gaze, and Grall raised his hands so quickly to reassure her that a small book fell out of his trouser pocket: Animal husbandry for beginners — From buying to breeding. Izzy jumped up quickly. Her menacing shadow darkened the world around Grall, just as the moon sometimes obscured the sun. “Wait!” Grall squeaked and made himself a little smaller. “It was a joke.” He scratched his head sheepishly, and his innocent smile was disarming enough for Izzy to sit back down. “I guess my sense of humour isn’t the best. Although there are some useful tips in the book…. all right, I’m sorry, this is all my fault.” Izzy leaned forward and hissed at him. “Your fault? Of course, it’s your fault too, the saddle didn’t get into your barn on its own.” Grall lowered his eyes, embarrassed, but before he could say anything, Izzy continued. “But it’s my fault too. I let it happen and kept ignoring the warning signs. I should have drawn the line at the horse bit. I can see that now.” Her voice trailed off; it felt strange to talk about it so clearly and distinctly. It was almost liberating. “Still, we have to do something, I don’t want to be a horse forever.” “It’s not forever,” Grall tried to reassure her. “We’ll find a way to make it like it used to be. Just with occasional rides. It would be a shame to let the saddle gather dust.” He winked at her, but Izzy didn’t respond. She looked at her breasts. “But how? People have seen me as a horse. You don’t have to lie to me, I know there might be no going back.” “But you wanted to be human again!” “Of course I want that! But… How is that supposed to work? Look at me, I live in a stable and look like any other ponygirl. What makes me different from the other horses?” “I know something!” He turned round and hurried to the door, where he bent briefly to the side and hid something behind his back. “Close your eyes!” “If that’s a new whip, then…” she said, but she dutifully closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Grall was holding a large bouquet of flowers in his hands — including buttercups, of course. “What makes you different from the other horses? Well, for one thing, you’ll be mine, and for another, they don’t get flowers from their best friend.” Izzy bent down and smelled the flowers. It was a pleasant odour of wilderness and freedom that she had always cherished, wafting into her nose and instantly lifting her spirits. Grall wasn’t wrong, no one brought a gift to a simple animal in a stable; none of the goblins were usually interested in what the ponygirls liked. For a moment, all was right with the world again for Izzy, even if her arms were still tied behind her back and she was squatting in a stall with her future owner. “When it’s all over, we’ll go for a nice ride together and everything will be fine,” Grall said, tucking the bouquet between the wooden planks so that it wouldn’t fall to the ground. “Then you understand that I don’t want to be a horse, even if I officially belong to you?” “Absolutely. I would love to have you as my ponygirl — not just on paper — but I understand that you don’t want that. You’re more important to me as a friend. Nevertheless, we have to keep up appearances over the coming days. My father insists on it.” He had this special gleam in his eyes that made it clear to Izzy that at least this solution wasn’t keeping him awake at night. She couldn’t even blame him, from his perspective the thought must be quite pleasant. “So you’re going to be treated like a horse for the next few days. I have to ride you, too, so that the goblins see that you are mine.” She neighed out of habit before remembering that she could still speak. “After this, we’ll find a way?” “If there is one, we’ll find it!” After a sharp call from his father, Grall prepared to set off. He also put her horse bit back in, which to her displeasure found its perfect place in her mouth behind her teeth and pulled her cheeks back slightly. — The next two days were largely uneventful. As announced, Izzy was handled like any other horse: In the morning they cleaned her stable, then got her ready for the day. She was given a light bridle and, as always, her horse bit, which was placed behind her teeth. Apart from that, she only had her arms tied and her own ponytail tucked into her bum, after which she was taken out to pasture, where she was also given food and water. There was plenty of time for her to have fun with the other horses, who had now firmly accepted her into their herd. However, she was the only ponygirl who always wore a ponytail; Grall had insisted on it. Izzy whinnied, but in truth she wasn’t particularly unhappy about it — even if she would never have admitted it. New ponygirls were picked up every day for long training sessions — Lisande was always there too, but there was nothing that could be done about her fate. So far, Izzy had been spared these exercises, but like most of the ponygirls, she was requested and saddled by her rider at any time as required. Grall followed his father’s instructions to the letter, using Izzy even for short rides so they could be seen together. Sometimes it was just a ride to the edge of the village so he could buy some sweets. Otherwise, he had never been there that often, but the freedom of a ponygirl probably made things easier. He was always friendly and treated her well — sometimes he even apologised to her when he had to ride her — but ultimately, she was still an animal that was useful to him. These were no longer the rides of two friends with a common goal; these rides were all about what Grall wanted and needed. When goblins were around, which was almost always the case, he didn’t speak to her either, which she wasn’t surprised about, who spoke to their mode of transport? At his destination, he usually tied her up somewhere or ordered her to wait for him with a short “Zhrak”. To make matters worse, the whip had also become a normal part of her rides — but what really bothered her about it was the realisation that it continued to work excellently on her. Izzy counted the days and hoped that things would soon calm down enough for her to be human again, although she had little doubt that Grall was slowly getting used to life with a mount in the stable. Izzy was sitting bored in her stable, staring at the ceiling, when an unfamiliar voice caught her interest; visitors were rare on the farm and most new arrivals were prevented from speaking by a horse’s bit. But this voice was strong and confident, it resounded across the yard and seemed to be coming closer. With a click, the door opened and Oozol invited a guest into the shady stable with a sweeping gesture. Izzy’s heart stopped. Behind Oozol, a well-dressed, older goblin entered the stable, clearly reluctant to step onto the straw, but Izzy’s shock was directed at the second visitor: Kreks! The young goblin grinned broadly and meanly, but luckily kept his mouth shut. “That’s the one,” said Oozol reservedly. Whatever was going on here, he didn’t seem entirely happy with it either. “I wasn’t promised too much. She is magnificent. Get the animal up so I can have a closer look at her.” “Why, she’s not for sale,” grumbled Oozol. “I want her,” Kreks croaked to the man who was obviously his father. “You’ve seen her papers, she’s too good for this farm — and Grall!” “Oozol, please do me a favour, or my son will not give me peace.” Oozol sighed and signalled to Izzy, but she wasn’t willing to be a puppet for these goblins. What was the point anyway? “Stand up, Buttercup, so Vepox can look at you,” he said with a certain sternness in his voice, but Izzy shook his head and retreated deeper into the stable. His gaze darkened. He went out for a moment and came back with a riding whip. “Buttercup, you’re making me look bad. Get up.” When she still didn’t do it, he gave her a good smack on the bottom. She jumped to her feet instantly. “Behave yourself in front of my guests, Buttercup.” Izzy grumbled unhappily. Old Oozol had never beaten her before, but she had never been his property before either. Had he done the same to her mother? No, her father had said he was good to her. That must have had something to do with Kreks and his father. Maybe her mum was just a little better behaved than she was, Izzy thought, rolling her eyes. Vepox, who looked like a wrinkled version of his son, took his time. He walked slowly around Izzy and looked at her with interest from all sides, as one would judge a — well — horse. He pinched her buttocks, allowed himself, after a loud “Zhrak!” a close examination of her breasts and also looked into her mouth, commenting favourably on the absence of her molars. He even reached between her legs, and it was only the threat of Oozol with the whip that made Izzy sit still while the guest gave her a light internal examination — front and back. “Easy, Isabel, easy,” Vepox said as his fingers stroked between her legs. She squeezed her eyes shut; so he knew who she had once been. That knowledge only made things worse — it was one thing to be groped by someone who thought you were an animal, but quite another when they knew for a fact that you were actually a human from this area. Vepox even waved his son over and he did the same. It was more humiliating than even the visit to the veterinarian; at least he was a professional, but neither Kreks nor his father Vepox seemed to be looking for anything besides their own entertainment. The young goblin in particular grabbed her all over and until Izzy shivered. Her head was spinning, the changes coming at her so fast she barely had time to think. Days ago, what these goblins were doing to her would have been a crime, but now she had to endure it, and was even punished if she resisted. “Excellent. This is what I’ve been looking for.” Vepox raised his hands as Oozol was about to say something. “Let’s talk about this later. I’d like to ride the horse, if it’s allowed.” “She’s fast and worth any money!” Kreks boasted, as if Izzy was already his. His father looked at him discerningly. “Restrain yourself, my son, so much enthusiasm raises the price!” Izzy snorted. She had no price, she was not for sale! Oozol seemed to think for a moment, but then he nodded. “Fine, but only a short ride.” He handed Izzy one of the sweets as a reward for her compliance, which she greedily took after a moment’s hesitation. It was too late for shame anyway, plus something inside her craved the sweet; it was that particular smell and the lure of the melting candy on her tongue that almost drove her wild — plus she could do with some cheering up right now. He leant forward and whispered: “Don’t worry, it’s just out of courtesy. Play along, there’ll be no problems and it’ll be over quickly.” Izzy nodded — even though the courtesy was obviously not extended to her — and allowed the grooms to saddle her without any resistance. With bridle, ponytail, and saddle, she stood in the arena and waited nervously to see what would follow. At least it wasn’t Kreks, Izzy thought. The little goblin stood on the sidelines and seemed to be visibly enjoying the show. “Tack,” Vepox shouted and Izzy was on her knees before she’d fully heard the word. Whatever she thought herself, she was a well-trained ponygirl. Izzy looked around for help. Where was Grall? The old goblin climbed somewhat awkwardly into the saddle and let Izzy stand up. He was a little heavier than Grall, which was probably due to his big belly. Still, he was a lightweight to Izzy; her unwillingness to carry him wasn’t because of his weight, she just hated having someone other than Grall as a rider. If she had to be a horse, she at least wanted to be Grall’s own ponygirl. The old goblin gave her a good kick and steered her from the yard with a rough pull on the reins. He wasn’t a very skilful rider, or he didn’t trust her — he controlled and corrected her every move with a rough hand. On the first straight, he took the whip and cracked it on her bottom. “Let’s see if you’re really that fast!” Izzy jumped forwards as usual, driven by the whip and her wish that it would stop soon. She flew over the sandy ground again and let her rider drive her in circles around the yard. The heat was burning on her skin and sweat was pouring down her face. “Faster!” the man called, beating her without pause. It was degrading, a long string of humiliations, and yet she could do nothing about it but follow her rider’s wishes. As much as she loathed it, the number on her bosom made her an animal that had to obey. Eventually, he steered her back through the gate and stopped her just short of Oozol. Izzy breathed heavily through the horse bit and was relieved when the “tack” came. “Very impressive, she’s really fast.” Oozol looks at the other goblin’s handiwork, visibly displeased, but doesn’t mention it. “She’s my son’s pride and joy, and I must say: Rightly so. The best horse in my stable.” Izzy’s ears burned at this praise. It was clearly heartfelt, and yet it robbed her of all humanity. “She would certainly win numerous races, but your son is probably not interested. An animal like that is a waste on him — no offence. He’s a good boy, but any other ponygirl would do for him.” Oozol nodded slowly. “I’ve always told him that too, but he only wanted this one. You have no idea how much he always got on my nerves with that. Isabel here, Buttercup there. I showed him dozens of other ponygirls, but I only wanted this girl.” Izzy listened attentively. But it was no longer a surprise to her how much Grall wanted her as his horse. Now he had what he wanted. “Grall has good eyes for horses, I’ll give him that. Still, you should at least listen to my offer.” Kreks stood next to his father and nodded eagerly. Despite how cheeky he usually was, he had good control of his tongue around his father. Izzy could only assume this had taken a few painful lessons. She savoured the thought. “She’ll be my son’s soon, so she’s not for sale — until he wants to sell her. Besides, she’s the daughter of a good friend. She’s like family.” The old goblin laughed. “You’ve really gone soft over the years. In the past, you wouldn’t have hesitated. Look at her, you’re wasting her talent. She should be a racehorse and win races. Just two or three years on the racecourse, and she’d make big profits as a broodmare.” Izzy’s ears burned with shame. She tugged at the reins, but Oozol gave her a light tap with the whip, flicked the blinkers shut and quietened her — luckily for her, he’d been a bit sloppy about it, so at least she could still see around the edges. “Come on, if you don’t want to sell her, at least lend her to me for the races. We’ll split the proceeds from the breeding. Look at her hips, she’d produce many healthy foals.” Izzy neighed unhappily. How could this goblin talk about her like that, right in front of her? But of course, he could because she was just an animal to him. If Oozol had wanted it, she would have a stallion behind her and deep inside her that very evening. The thought made her nervous, in more ways than one. Her legs trampled nervously over the sandy ground. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. How long has your son had his eye on her?” Oozol asked and laughed. “Kreks has wanted her for a long time, long before he saw Grall on her saddle. None of us would have expected a girl from these lands to become a ponygirl. You know me, I’m ready for any mischief, but that surprised me. Without Grall’s daring, we wouldn’t be negotiating with each other here today. In our family, we know what we want. Tell me the price and we’ll negotiate.” “She’s not for sale,” Oozol repeated, but his voice revealed that these words gave him as much pleasure as a toothache. “Nothing is not for sale. How about my son riding her a little while we have a cosy chat about the final price? I’m sure he’ll ride her home today.” Izzy neighed unhappily again, but Kreks was already getting ready to climb onto her saddle. He even had his whip in his hand, which looked unusually thin and painful. “Soon you’ll be mine. The whip is brand new, especially for you, like a nice, fine, thin branch,” he whispered in her ear after he sat down in the saddle. Izzy was still kneeling, but her heart was already racing. She could feel him in the saddle, almost smell him! Her worst nightmare — apart from everything that had happened so far — had come true. Kreks, that bastard, was back in her saddle, and he was obviously determined to make a habit of it. Izzy would have loved to jump up and throw him into the sand, but she knew full well that trouble would follow. She struggled to control herself, but Kreks only laughed harder when he felt her trembling. “Enjoy the feel of your new master on your back.” His father wasn’t finished yet either. “How about a hundred thousand thalers?” The surprised squeal from Izzy made both men laugh. “Don’t stare at me like that; a good horse — especially one that produces many foals — doesn’t come cheap. Come on, agree and we’ll seal the deal.” The old man raised his hand and Oozol’s hand twitched too, but before Izzy could see if he would really give it up so easily, a loud shout stopped the two goblins. “Stop!” shouted Grall across the square; he hobbled over to Izzy and yanked Kreks out of the saddle, flinging him into the dirt. Next, he slapped his surprised father’s hand away. “What is this?” His head was as red as a tomato. “My son, if I may introduce you…” “I know who that is,” Grall interrupted his father coldly. “Kreks won’t get Buttercup! You have no right to sell her!” He stroked Izzy’s leg and stood protectively in front of her. It was almost a comical sight, the little goblin trying to protect the much larger Izzy, and yet it impressed three other goblins at once — and Izzy herself, who for a moment felt almost as safe behind him as behind an iron shield. Oozol coughed in surprise and straightened to his full height, still not reaching Izzy’s waist. “Son, in business you at least listen to an offer before you turn it down — which is what I was going to do!” “You can’t sell my best friend for a few measly thalers.” “10000 thalers is hardly shabby. That’s the price of a whole new stable, including a few ponygirls.” Oozol looked sternly at his son, who had almost gone pale. “You’ll never see that kind of money again in your whole life,” sneered Kreks, but Grall — without looking — slapped him so hard that the other goblin fell to the ground, dazed. “One hundred thousand thalers,” Grall stuttered and swallowed. “That really is a lot of money.” Izzy stomped angrily — narrowly missing his foot — and snapped him out of his thoughts. “Never mind, you can’t do that, she’s MINE!” Izzy wasn’t entirely happy with that either, but at least it was better than all the alternatives. At least she wasn’t exclusively an animal to Grall. “My boy, my name is in the register. She eats my food — that’s not for free either — and she’s in my stable. She is, after all that is good and right, my property. And if I wanted to sell her, I would be allowed to. In theory, of course.” “And the fact that she grew up in front of you has no meaning to you? Grall’s voice had become shrill, full of fear and even disgust. Izzy was trembling too, the situation was serious, she realised all too clearly. She was just an object, an object with a price tag, hardly any different from the dress she was wearing just a few days ago. But the fact that Oozol was discussing it at all made her even more speechless than the horse bit in her mouth… “My son, I have helped foals into the world, which I later personally brought in for mating; I then brought their foals into the world too. Buttercup is my friend’s child, she is dear to me — but a ponygirl always has a price.” “What would Matheus say to that? “He’s well aware of the rules for ponygirls.” Oozol crossed his arms. Grall walked right up to him and pressed a finger into his chest. “Then you would have sold her mother in front of him too? She was yours, too.” “Well, that was different…”, the older goblin fumbled around. “Oh, and what was different about it?” asked Grall, looking sternly at his father. Izzy did the same. Oozol grimaced. “You’re worrying unnecessarily. Just like I said: I was just listening to an offer, like a good businessman does. But Matheus visited me before the registration and asked me not to sell Buttercup. Believe me, I wouldn’t make such a promise to just anyone. Nevertheless, you should know that such a promise is not binding. Everything has its price, even friendship. I’m surprised that you of all people don’t understand that. After all, she’s here today as a ponygirl because of you.” He looked at his son very sternly. “You seem to have forgotten that you took the first step yourself — or do you remember a moment when I even showed Izzy a saddle? You started this, not me.” Izzy and Grall both shook their heads in silence. As much of a hard businessman as Oozol was, he had never led Izzy down this path. Oozol had never even invited her to the horse farm or asked her about ponygirls. He had only been her best friend’s father over the years, and had never tried to lure her into the ponygirl life. Meanwhile, Vepox helped his staggering son to his feet; the slap from Grall had worked well, and when Kreks tried to open his mouth once more, Grall only had to raise his hand to silence him. Strangely, Vepox didn’t seem to mind, he was probably tired of his son’s squeaky voice too. “Perhaps we will come to an agreement another day. Rest assured, Oozol, that this conversation is not over. With all due respect for the reputation of your farm, a mare with royal pedigree and her qualities is not in good hands on this farm. You’ll soon realise that. If it’s all about the money, then tell me your price.” He looked Izzy straight in the eye; a shiver ran down her spine. With this man, she had to expect anything. But Kreks was certainly not hunting her for the last time either. Life as a horse brought nothing but trouble! Meanwhile, Kreks had pulled himself together. “You beat another goblin for a horse?” He laughed dirty. “She’ll be mine soon anyway.” “With any luck, you’ll never have a horse. You don’t deserve one either.” Kreks tilted his head. “Didn’t you know? My father gave me a ponygirl a few weeks ago. She responds well to the whip, just like yours. But Buttercup is something special, she has noble blood and is also from here. No one else has a horse that comes from this area. Everyone would envy me if I rode her through the streets.” “You have a horse? The poor animal…‘ was Grall’s only comment on the matter, although it hadn’t escaped Izzy’s notice that his chest heaved slightly at the mention of envy over Izzy. Oozol grabbed his visitor by the shoulder. “We shall see. Come, we have another very new horse for sale,” he said, pulling his guest towards the stables. Izzy’s heart froze at the next words. “Lisande isn’t fully trained yet, but someone like you will surely recognise her value. She could pull your carriage.” For the next hour, Izzy had to watch as Lisande was ogled and ridden by Vepox and his son, only to end up being sold like a piece of livestock — which, to the goblins, she was. The young horse looked to Izzy for help, but she was trapped in this life herself. The ponygirl was led from the yard with loud shouts, and Izzy had to learn to accept that this too was part of the fate of most ponygirls. Not only had Lisande been brought into this life as a horse against her will, but her future afterwards was not in her hands either. Kreks gave Izzy one last look, then ran after his father. — Izzy couldn’t sleep again that night, the experience of the day was still too much in her bones. She kicked the door with force and tried to scream, but the night bit prevented her from doing so. Even the ponytail didn’t lift her spirits. It was all so frustrating — why had she allowed that stupid saddle to be put on her back in the first place? She knew where it could lead and now she was in this mess with no way out. To make matters worse, Grall was busy for the next two days and she had no choice but to wait bored in the stable — or lie in the sun in the pasture, but even that quickly became boring. She wanted to go out into the world, search for ruins and learn something; not have to wait for her owner, or fear that Oozol would get the idea that he preferred quick money to the affection of his son. Her frustration grew with every day and every hour, and the other ponygirls also moved out of her way more and more often to avoid getting bumped or kicked by her hooves. It wasn’t until the third day that Pexo finally took her out for a ride. It was humiliating how much she now longed for these moments under the saddle to at least escape the monotony, but that was probably how her life was going to be from now on. He put her bridle, bit, boots, and saddle on and Izzy danced around excitedly on the spot. “Calm down, girl!” said Pexo, laughing, but Izzy was still frustrated. It was humiliating that a ride was the only special thing in her life, but it was better than nothing. Fittingly, Titan had just been led across the yard too — a welcome sight for a starving mare, Izzy thought to herself somewhat foolishly, and she lusted after him. “Concentrate!” admonished Pexo as Izzy squeezed her thighs together because of this and he couldn’t secure the saddle between her legs. But she still didn’t listen and it took a slap on the buttocks to bring her back to reality. As soon as the last strap was fastened, Gribat brought bad news. “You can take them off again, the master’s son has to get ready for school. He doesn’t have time for his horse.” Izzy lost her temper — nothing could be relied on! She swung and kicked with all her might, narrowly missing Pexo, and smashed a table with her hard hooves. “What’s going on here!” Oozol shouted across the entire courtyard, and immediately everyone was quiet. The old goblin came running up and looked at the broken table and the two grooms who had jumped to one side. “I’m sorry,” Izzy wanted to say, but the horse bit prevented her from apologising. Pexo looked at her with wide eyes, and Izzy was heartbroken to see this nice little goblin groom terrified. What had she done? Gribat turned red. “Your dangerous mare nearly kicked us. She must be tied up,” he demanded angrily. Oozol nodded, and Izzy soon found herself in an even tighter restraint than usual; she couldn’t have walked a step if she’d tried. “Zhrak!” Oozol waited until Izzy had dropped to her knees and laid her head on her chest in shame. “Buttercup, we don’t tolerate that sort of behaviour on this farm. The same rules apply to you as to all animals. I have to make sure that no livestock on the farm endangers one of the grooms like you just did. So you’re forcing me to do something I don’t like doing either.” He had a small tin filled with a thick paste brought to him. Oozol took some of it on his fingers and ordered the grooms to loosen the strap between her legs. His fingers penetrated deep inside Izzy in one swift movement and she howled in shock and shame. She felt the goblin spreading the paste inside her, deeper than any man had ever penetrated her with anything before. Pexo watched them sympathetically as a terrible burning and itching sensation spread through Izzy’s abdomen. It wasn’t the good kind of heat, it was just hot and painful; but worse than the pain was the realisation that Oozol wouldn’t have done this to her just a few days ago — but she was human back then, and now just a ponygirl. This knowledge burned more intensely than the cream. With her hands still tied behind her, she couldn’t even reach between her legs, and rubbing her thighs didn’t make it any better, the ointment was spread too deep inside her. “Take her to her stable and give her some time to think. If you do something like that again, you’ll get it in your backside too. When we come back for you and you’re tamer again, you’ll get the antidote.” From a distance, he watched as Izzy rubbed her lower body against the stable. — The hours passed sluggishly, and her stall offered no way to relieve the burning. It was real torture, and — she was sure — it was meant to be. It was meant to make her docile, controllable and tame. And even if she didn’t like to admit it… it worked. She would do anything just to make it stop. Finally, she heard the lock of her stall and saw Grall coming to her with a new paste. She whimpered — out of pain, but also because she didn’t want her best friend to do it, but she had no choice. Without him asking her to, she knelt in front of him, pressed her upper body into the straw and presented her wide bottom to him so that her private parts were easily accessible to him. It was the most humiliating pose she could imagine, but she wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Even Grall looked unsure as he took the paste on his fingers, brushed the ponytail aside and slowly entered her. Izzy neighed loudly through the horse bit. He turned his head away as he spread the paste all over her with careful movements. She felt his fingers and pressed against him so that he could spread the ointment deep enough. The burning slowly subsided and was replaced by a new heat, but Grall hurriedly pulled his fingers out of her. He wiped his hands clean and stood up. She saw immediately that something was wrong. “Some grooms — especially Gribat — aren’t satisfied with this punishment. Pexo has spoken out in your favour, but the others have stood their ground. They are demanding a harsher punishment. I’m so sorry, but my father has no choice. He’s dependent on the men, and they’ll go on strike if you’re not treated like the rest of the livestock. They’re afraid it would set a bad example for the other ponygirls. And they fear you.” Two grooms came to her side and secured her well again, but this time at least she could walk. Still, she felt like a criminal being taken to the judge. Grall attached a lead to her two breast rings — probably so she wouldn’t forget what she was — and led her out into the yard where, to her horror, everyone was already gathered. Grooms, ponygirls and Oozol stood in a circle around the table she had smashed. It had been hastily repaired, but the cracks were still clearly visible. Izzy stopped in front of Oozol and immediately dropped to her knees after a sharp “Zhrak!” from Grall. “That’s good,” said Oozol unusually gently, stroking her head. “You will receive another punishment for your misbehaviour. Lie down on the table and you will get five strokes of the whip on your bottom.” He hesitated briefly and looked grumpily at his grooms, who were watching everything expectantly — only Pexo looked unhappy. “If you refuse, we’ll tie you up and you’ll get five extra strokes.” Izzy’s whole body trembled. What kind of choice was that? But she recognised the whip in his hand and knew he was serious. So it was the same punishment as Sunshine’s; now she really was an animal herself to be beaten like this. She looked at Sunshine, who was standing at the other end of the ring, but there was no gloating or satisfaction in her gaze — just genuine pity, like all ponygirls had in their eyes. “What do you decide, Isabel?” Izzy’s eyes widened. What was that all about? Why did he have to use her real name now of all times when she was more removed from it than ever before? Was he mocking her? But there was no sign of that on his face — he seemed almost as unsure as she was. Was the name supposed to comfort her? If so, it missed its target — no, it was only the thought of hiding behind the role of ponygirl that gave her the courage to look at the table and accept the punishment. It was a horrible thing for animals — but normal — but it would be unthinkable for a human to be treated like this. With trembling legs, Izzy hobbled over to the table and lay down on it. The wood was rough and full of splinters that dug into her stomach and breasts. That alone was almost punishment enough, but she knew only too well that it didn’t end there. She looked at Oozol, who handed the whip to Grall with an unsteady hand. “No, I can’t do that!” the young goblin said, startled, and stumbled back a few steps, but Oozol pushed him forwards again. “One day you’ll have to run this farm. You’d better learn what it takes. Buttercup will survive, only her pride — and her butt — will be hurt. If you don’t want to do that, you’ll be responsible if a ponygirl injures someone. You’ve learnt to ride with her — now learn what it means to own an animal.” Grall looked at his father in bewilderment. “You’re just afraid to do it yourself!” he hissed, but his father didn’t even disagree. “If you don’t do it, Gribat will,” Oozol finally replied, Izzy had never seen him so torn. Not that she felt sorry for him at that moment. One look at the keeper was enough for Grall to decide. He gripped the handle of the whip tightly and let the rest dangle downwards. His whole body shook and sweat ran down his forehead, stinging his eyes and turning them red. “I’m sorry.” The whip whistled through the air and hit Izzy’s bum surprisingly timidly. “He didn’t hit her properly!” Gribat nagged, and other carers joined in. Scumbags, Izzy thought, and Grall hissed too. “Fine,” Oozol grumbled, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Grall, if you don’t do it right, the strike must be repeated. Until you have mastered it.” The young goblin nodded and swung again. The whip shrieked in the air and hit Izzy much harder. A red welt was left on her bum. Izzy yelped in pain, also at strike two. But strike three had been too gentle again. “What did I just tell you?” Repeat the stroke. No more games.” Izzy stared at Oozol with a burning stare; grooms or not, this was silly! Where had the nice old goblin gone who had given her a doll as a child? But even Oozol’s forehead was covered in sweat. Izzy’s head exploded with pain when the new blow hit her bum. Grall had hit her with all his might and it was worse than any spanking before. The other ponygirls howled as if the whip was kissing their bottoms too. “Three!” Again Grall apologised, but it lost its meaning under the blows. Izzy’s head buzzed under a cloud of red pain and Grall’s shouts. The riding crop was a soft feather in comparison. “Four! Five!” “Is that enough for you?” asked Oozol bitterly, and most of the grooms nodded, only Gribat shook his head. “Don’t be an arsehole!” shouted Pexo, who was after all the youngest and least experienced of the grooms, and ran to Izzy. “Five strokes are enough! She’s a good horse.” Even some of the grooms who had voted in favour of her punishment nodded. Gribat was fuming with rage. “Then you’ll be responsible if she does it again!” Grall threw the whip into the dirt. “Pexo’s right, that’s enough. I’ll take full responsibility for Buttercup, no matter what happens! She’s my ponygirl, and my duty!“ The ponygirls around Izzy stamped their hooves in agreement. Izzy barely noticed, the blood was still pounding hard in her ears. “Good,” Oozol said, smiling at his son. “So you do understand what’s important after all. Quick, bring me some ointment, we need to tend to her wounds.” Izzy tried to get up, but she wasn’t quite up yet when the world spun before her eyes and everything went black. — “Give her some time,” Izzy heard Oozol’s voice as someone rubbed lotion on her buttocks. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not a monster, it didn’t bring me any pleasure either. I never enjoy it when a ponygirl has to be punished. It’s even worse with Buttercup, I remember well when she was a little girl — once she put a dress on me so we could have a tea party with her dolls. She was a sweet child, and not half as exhausting as you! But today she’s a ponygirl; an animal on my farm. Whether I like it or not, I have to keep order. No matter what the cost.” “The punishment was too harsh!” “Perhaps.” Oozol sighed, “Certainly. But we also have a responsibility to the grooms. The ponygirls are much bigger and stronger than any goblin. If we are not careful, they can hurt us badly. The grooms have to trust us and the animals; Buttercup has paid the price for her mistake, and hopefully learnt something from it.” “And hopefully you’ve learnt that family isn’t for sale!” grumbled Grall. Izzy blinked. She would have liked to rub her eyes, but her arms were tied behind her back, as they almost always were by now. Oozol sat behind her, gently treating her wounds. The deep marks of the whip were red reminders of what she now had to expect as a ponygirl if her owner thought it necessary. She sobbed and Grall took her head on his lap. “You have to be good from now on. You’re officially registered, so all the ponygirl rules apply to you. Especially on our farm.” Izzy didn’t manage more than a brief nod. “I’ll leave you two alone,” Oozol said in a brittle voice. Only then did Grall took the bit from Izzy’s mouth. “How do you feel?” Izzy stared at him. “What do you think? My best friend just whipped me senseless. How am I supposed to feel about that?” Grall’s eyes grew moist too, the first tears streaming down his face. “That’s not what I wanted!” “Do you think that makes it better?” He shook his head. “Are you sometimes afraid of me, like the grooms?” asked Izzy. “I’d trust you with my life!” he replied without hesitation. “I mean it. If you want to kick, I won’t fight back. I promise!” But Izzy shook her head, more violence was not what she felt like now. “I really was a bad friend to you today.” Izzy turned away from him in the straw and stared at the ceiling for a long time. The silence was uncomfortable for both of them, but Izzy knew she had to sort out her thoughts before she could say anything else. Something fundamental had changed today; the days since their first ride had brought many changes, but the whipping today was one step too many. Something had broken between them — at least for Izzy. Grall waited tensely, and finally, she was ready. “I don’t think we’re friends any more.” These words hit Grall like a bomb; he jumped up and stumbled back with his mouth open. “How can you say that? I didn’t whip you voluntarily! Izzy, please!” She realised he was calling her by her real name again, but eventually, it didn’t matter. Here and now she was Buttercup, whether she liked it or not. “That’s not the problem — and somehow it is. You have far too much power over me. A friendship can’t work like that.” “But…” stammered Grall. “It’s… you have to…” He searched desperately for an answer, but finally gave up. “What now?” “Now I’m just your horse, I guess, or do I have a choice?” She didn’t miss Grall’s trembling, but perhaps it was time to speak the truth. You can’t be a friend to your horse. You can love it, care for it, look after it. But friendship can’t work if one person can tie the other up somewhere or even whip her; or even sell her at their own whim. “Please leave me alone.” “But…” “You wanted me to be your horse. Now you’ve got what you wanted. And take the flowers with you; a ponygirl doesn’t need any.” A new strength flared in her. Even if this wasn’t the way she had wanted it, but at least for the moment it felt like she was in control again. It was a good feeling. Grall did as asked and walked to the door, but turned round once more and put the horse bit in Izzy’s mouth — as was required. “Are you sure?” The bunch of flowers hung limply in his hand. Izzy nodded mutely as her knees went weak. She hurriedly turned away from him. She couldn’t admit it to him, but she did it for him too. If this was her life in the future, he had to see her differently, too. For the next few weeks, at least, it was better if they played their parts. A goblin simply couldn’t be friends with his horse; it was silly to even try, Izzy knew that by now. “Alright, if that’s what you want… but I’ll still keep my promise. You’ll be a ponygirl for the next few days, but when that’s over, I’ll find a solution. Then we can be friends again! If I had wanted a stupid animal, I would have been happy with any other ponygirl.” He gave her a gentle hug and then left her alone. Izzy looked after him thoughtfully. Maybe he really would find a way, but until then, she had to learn to accept what she was now. The Belt Grall stared sheepishly at Izzy’s butt the next morning. “Still doesn’t look good. Well, I mean the wounds, not… you know.” He blushed slightly. At least he hadn’t lost all sense of shame, Izzy realized, yet she rolled her eyes. He had come to her first after getting up in the morning with a healing paste and had taken the horse bit right out of her mouth. Her arms were still bound, but that didn’t surprise her — as Grall had warned her, she was now considered a ponygirl on the farm. There was no exception when it came to safety — especially not with her — but at least he was trying to make the situation more comfortable for her. Not that it would, or could, change Izzy’s decision. He still had too much power over her, even his sheepish smile couldn’t change that. “Don’t wriggle around like that,” Grall complained, but that was easier said than done. Her bottom still ached — which was why the night hadn’t been very pleasant — and the rough skin of his green fingers wasn’t particularly gentle on her bruised bottom. She shuddered at the thought of his fingers; life as a horse had brought some changes, but this intimacy with Grall still unsettled her deeply. Of course, she knew that something like this could happen, but it was different when you were actually confronted with it. Oozol had also touched her in this way, but Grall had been her friend and lacked the necessary distance and professionalism. She pushed the thought aside. None of that mattered to a horse, and Grall would soon be her owner anyway. If they couldn’t find a way out for her, she would probably have to get used to moments like this. She sighed. Grall looked past her wide bum. “I’ll be done in a minute. It’s quite a lot of space to cover.” He laughed, and Izzy couldn’t help giggling too. There was nothing actually funny about it, but the sight of the little goblin disappearing almost entirely behind her mighty buttocks was strangely entertaining. “You’re sure you don’t want to change your mind?” Izzy tilted her head. “To make you feel a little better? If you want to know how I feel, have a closer look at my bum.” “It would be beautiful without the welts,” Grall replied as he spread some ointment right between her legs. He almost choked on his words. “I mean, for a horse, of course.” “Of course…” “But seriously, it’s not just about me. I’m sorry that…” “You’ve said that before. Thank you, but that doesn’t help me. Besides, I don’t believe you don’t take some pleasure in the fact that I might always be your horse.” He put on a mischievous smile that he used to have when he was caught doing something forbidden. “It’s great to have a horse in the stable. But you’re not like the other ponygirls. I’m only happy if you are too. We’re friends.” “We were,” Izzy interjected harshly. Grall swallowed. “You’re still important to me, and that hasn’t changed. Even if you don’t see it that way.” “I didn’t say you aren’t important to me. But we can’t be friends like this. We just can’t. You have too much power over me and I don’t know if I can trust you.” “Then I’ll prove it to you. I promise!” “That I’m worthy of being your horse, or your friend?” He thought for a long time. “If it’s up to me, then both. That’s my dream. Don’t laugh, I’m serious!” Izzy actually had a big grin on her face. Grall was a dreamer, she knew that. But how was something like this supposed to work? The strangest thing about this pondering for Izzy, though, was that she hardly cared about her life as a ponygirl any more. Something about it felt almost normal by now, even if it hadn’t been her first choice. But in a life like that, there was simply no room for friendship between animal and owner. She didn’t even know what Grall could do to help her. How could she be human again if the whole neighbourhood knew she was a horse in Grall’s stable? The hope of one day being human again was too tempting not to cling to, but now it seemed more like a burden that kept her from acknowledging the truth. But even if she could be human again, albeit on a part-time basis, Grall was still officially her owner, and such a thing required a great deal of trust — or outright submission, but at least Izzy was sure he wouldn’t demand that of her. — A few hours later, Grall saddled Izzy himself to ride her to the village. Izzy put up with it, after all, this was her designated role, at least for now. Besides, it wasn’t the first ride of its kind — and yet, it still felt strange that Grall was using her as nothing more than his means of transport. He brought her to her knees with a short “Tack!”, climbed into the saddle and gave her the spurs straight away. His wallet jingled and she guessed that it would be another short ride to the shops. But she didn’t really mind — at least she got out of the stable and could enjoy the warm summer sun, and Grall was usually a friendly rider, especially when he spared the whip — even if, as she would never tell him, she now understood when this form of motivation made sense from a rider’s standpoint. Even if she was the horse, he was spurring on with it. Not all horses had the luck of a careful rider that day. The loud neighing of a ponygirl made Izzy stop. Grall also turned around at the sound. “Animal abuser,” he growled gruffly, forgetting that he too had ridden Izzy hard. But something about the neighing was different, more pleading. They both caught a glimpse of it through the trees; it was Kreks, who was charging through the forest on Lisande. The poor animal was being whipped by its rider and driven on at a fast gallop. It was a terrible sight that broke Izzy’s heart, but with the horse’s bit in her mouth, she couldn’t even say anything about it. Grall seemed to share her thoughts. “Bastard. Lisande is still too inexperienced, she needs guidance, not beating.” Izzy neighed in agreement, and Grall stroked her head. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do, she’s his. Poor thing.” He gave Izzy the spurs again and she trotted on with her head down. Poor Lisande, she thought, nobody deserves this. When she arrived in the village, she was again the centre of attention, even more than in the previous days. Word must have got around by now that Izzy was a local girl. Such a thing was extremely unusual, but even if Izzy had liked to have done without this attention, the reactions were at least positive — which in essence almost worsened it. Izzy saw a glint of hope in their eyes, and she could well imagine that most of the goblins in the village were wondering how they could get more girls under saddle for free. The thought of receiving a valuable animal at no cost from the human ranks had to be like a godsend, especially for the poorer goblins. Izzy could only hope that she hadn’t led any of the other girls from the area down this path. It wasn’t always good or right to be a trailblazer, some doors were better left closed. Without giving it a second thought, Grall tied her up outside the sweet shop, as was required of a ponygirl like Izzy, and disappeared briefly into the shop. The wait was awful, especially being secured to her breast rings in public was hideously humiliating. The light chains offered her little room for manoeuvre and pulled on her sensitive nipples with every movement. She could only stand bent forward and wait while her rider chose sweets for himself at his own whim, while only oats and water awaited her. The sun burned hot on her skin; without shade, even the best weather soon became too much. Hurry, Izzy thought, before Grall came out of the shop again. He had already taken one foot out of the door when Kreks rode past at the edge of the village with Lisande. “He’s been doing that all day,” the shopkeeper said. “You wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Poor thing. I hope he loses the fun of it soon.” Grall nodded in agreement, as did Izzy, though of course no one noticed. Only now did Izzy realise that Grall had two bags with him — she immediately straightened up a little, until the chains stopped her painfully. For a moment, she pushed the gloomy thoughts aside; two bags could really only mean one thing… “Don’t mix up the bags; otherwise you’ll only end up with sweets for ponygirls. And don’t eat too much, I’m sure your horse doesn’t want a fat rider,” shouted the salesman, and Grall got a little smaller as Izzy whinnied with laughter. She had indeed noticed that Grall had become a little chubbier due to the lack of exercise — unlike Izzy. My little chubby one, she thought, and went down on her knees even before the “Tack!”. As much as the situation annoyed her, she had been trained well. “He was joking,” Grall grumbled to Izzy, but she shook her head vigorously and poked him in the stomach with her nose. “Don’t do that!” He was obviously embarrassed, but Izzy didn’t care. After all, it was his own fault — as was the fact that her legs had become much more muscular in the meantime. It was probably only natural that horses were more trained than their riders. When she thought about it, Grall had always been a little wirier than goblins with ponygirls; but that time was probably behind him now. “If you’re not good, you don’t get a treat.” Izzy huffed angrily, but Grall just grinned and gave her two sweets at once. For a moment, they really were just horse and rider, and Izzy couldn’t deny that it almost felt right. It certainly had its good parts at the best of times, she mused, savouring the taste of the treats on her tongue as they spread around the horse’s bit and filled her whole mouth. — When they arrived at the yard, Grall tied Izzy to a post near the training area and left her there for a short time. This gave Izzy enough time to have a look around. As usual, some of the newer horses were being trained at this time: they ran behind their goblin trainers, had to trot with practice saddles or obey real riders. Some also pulled small training carts behind them. But their real attention was focussed on Titan, who was being led across the yard again. This didn’t seem to be a coincidence, Izzy realised, but part of the training. The mares were probably supposed to deliberately ignore him and concentrate on their task, and it seemed to be his job to distract them from that. Izzy, on the other hand, had enough time to have a closer look at the magnificent stallion. Titan soon realised this too, giving her all his naked attention. The goblin on his lead apparently didn’t care, and so Izzy and Titan gave each other more than a few clear glances. Perhaps the vigorous wiggling of her bum in his direction was a little too much, but his attention did her good. The unaccustomed attention of a man — even if he was a pony stallion — made her skin tingle pleasantly. Some of the ponygirls giggled at the sight of the excited Izzy, and her behaviour had not escaped the attention of a few of the trainers either. They were not alone in this. “What are you doing?” Grall shouted. “So that’s what’s going on here. And I thought you just didn’t want to be a ponygirl.” Izzy didn’t quite understand what he meant, but his voice cracked, and a look of genuine pain travelled across his face, as if she had betrayed him personally. “What do you have to say about this?” He took the bit out of her mouth. “I was only joking!” Izzy defended herself, but she had to admit to herself that she had completely forgotten about the audience for her little demonstration. Her whole body turned red. Not only that, but the other signs gave away the lie — anyone looking between her legs or at her chest could clearly see how Izzy felt about Titan. Grall’s whole body shook. “You humans have no decency. That you would trade me for a stallion…” Izzy snorted. “You want me as a horse… what do you expect? That I wait for you every day and have no life of my own without you?” “Of course not!” Grall blurted out, but some uncertainty showed in his eyes. “That’s… don’t be silly. I just don’t want anything to happen to you. This is going too far. You want to be human again, what do you want with a stallion?” “I don’t want anything from Titan. I was just joking!” But her body still betrayed her and showed the truth clearly. “You said you didn’t trust me, but now you’re lying to me. Everyone here has seen what you’ve done.” “Then there’s nothing more to talk about,” Izzy hissed. “Are you sure? If we can’t talk any more, I’ll have to treat you like any other ponygirl.” He looked her closely in the eye and waited for her response. Izzy knew he was challenging her. That wasn’t a surprise, but she wasn’t ready to back down either. He had to finally realise that this power difference was real, and had truly changed — even ended — their friendship. “Do what you have to do.” Grall bit his lower lip. “Fine, but I really don’t like doing this.” After a short sigh, he walked off, leaving Izzy with her thoughts for half an hour. Titan was back in his stables and Izzy waited agitatedly — in more ways than one — for Grall’s return. When he finally turned the corner, he had a strange metal object in his hand, visibly freshly polished, with a particularly shiny spot right in the centre. Izzy’s blood ran cold. “Are you sure we shouldn’t talk about this?” he asked again. He didn’t seem happy either, but Izzy wasn’t prepared to budge from her position. If he wanted a friendship with a ponygirl, he had to figure out how to make it work himself. Or find a better way. “You know what this is?” “A chastity belt,” Izzy grumbled, the words coming out of her lips with great difficulty. This was not a common topic for humans, but obviously for ponygirls. She looked at him challengingly. “No other horse wears one.” “Because no one minds if they get pregnant. A few more foals won’t make my father miserable. But with you, I do care.” “You could just trust me. He sighed again. “After you just lied to me? I’m not blind, I can see what’s happening here.” He nervously moved a few small stones around with his feet. “You’ve changed. You say I have too much power over you, but you’re also acting like a ponygirl — even when you don’t have to. What am I supposed to think?” Izzy avoided his gaze. He had hit a sore spot. “If I have to do this to protect you, then so be it. You might even thank me for it one day.” He swallowed, then undid the strap of the saddle, revealing what he was about to hide. A warm breeze wafted between Izzy’s legs and she guessed it would soon be a distant memory. He pressed the cold metal to her most intimate place. The tax stamp — the deepest humiliation yet in this region — was barely recognisable under the metal; any tax inspector would probably have to look extra closely, but after Izzy’s experience they certainly wouldn’t be worried. The iron pressed against her thighs and Izzy quickly realised that she would almost have to relearn how to walk with it. Once all the straps were secured, Grall stroked the metal almost lovingly, but Izzy felt nothing of it. “How long do I have to wear it?” she asked uncertainly. The feeling of the still cold metal between her legs was an unpleasant and humiliating reminder of how much freedom she had lost. “We’ll take it off you when we wash it. It’s built so you can wear it all the time otherwise.” With a deft touch, he also placed the strap of the saddle over the metal, but Izzy — almost to her displeasure — couldn’t feel it either. “But for how long?” “For as long as it takes. Until you can be human again — and I can trust you — or until I get you…” He bit his tongue and didn’t finish the sentence, but Izzy’s wide eyes told him that she understood. He was clearly not happy with this outcome either, but Izzy couldn’t and wouldn’t change that. He needed to see her problem clearly; too often he had only focussed on the positive, it was time he saw the bleaker side too, even if that meant things got worse for Izzy before they could get better. He offered her the horse bit and Izzy opened her mouth. Everything had been said anyway. — It was another night full of new experiences. The metal had warmed up in the meantime, but that didn’t change its hardness. The belt rubbed against her thighs and kept her awake for a long time until she had found a new position in which neither her tied arms nor her thighs complained. She was completely exhausted when Pexo took her out of the stable and tied her to a post using a light chain on her breast rings. Unlike the other grooms, his behaviour towards her had not changed. First he took care of her morning problems — peeing under supervision had become an everyday occurrence for Izzy — then she let him saddle her without resistance; although she did wonder where Grall wanted to ride off to so early. “Good morning,” Grall called across the arena, still slightly sleepy, and Izzy’s jaw dropped. “You want to ride me to school?” she tried to say through the bit, but little more than mumbling and neighing came out. Grall was wearing his finest school uniform, a backpack full of books and shoes with detachable spurs. “Of course,” she chided herself in her mind, his holidays were over too, and she had made it clear herself that she was his horse in the current circumstances. So why shouldn’t he ride her there; she had only herself to blame for that. “Do I look all right?” he asked playfully, turning in front of her so quickly that his backpack lifted off his back. “A new uniform, for all students who ride a horse.” Izzy tilted her head. The uniform looked good on him, only the spurs weren’t to her taste. “How was the night with the belt?” Izzy just neighed. “You’ll get used to it. When you’re ready to talk to me, I’ll be there for you. Mostly on your back.” He winked, but Izzy just lifted her nose in the air and ignored him. He looked at her expectantly, and Izzy clearly realised that despite everything, he still didn’t quite understand what her problem was. He took the bit out of Izzy’s mouth, which still made Pexo visibly uncomfortable. Talking horses were certainly unusual — almost unnatural — for all goblins. “You really don’t want to understand, do you? “There are only two ways: I can make free decisions about myself again, or I trust you so much that I can live with you having so much power over me. Neither is true right now. Or do you think a chastity belt is a sign of trust?” Grall was clearly not satisfied, but he put the horse bit back in her mouth and climbed into her saddle after a “tack”. After a kick with the spurs, she ran off. “You’ll see, I’ll find a way to make you happy.” Izzy whinnied ambiguously. — The chastity belt took some getting used to for Izzy, riding with a piece of metal between her legs was a wholly new — and wholly unwelcome — experience. The metal demanded her full attention with every step; although the iron was quite narrow, it was wide enough that Izzy had to change her gait to avoid rubbing. Grall stopped her at a small crossroads. She looked over her shoulder, but his gaze was fixed on a gate at the end of the path that stood slightly open. Nothing happened for a few minutes, then Mexi came riding out unsteadily on an elegant mare. This surprised Izzy — and probably Grall too — as Mexi had told them that Izzy was her first horse. The ponygirl’s skin and hair were the colour of light limestone, while the straps and saddle were midnight black. It was a handsome contrast that lent the animal a touch of elegance, which was emphasised by her feather-light gait. Against this horse, Izzy felt almost like a pack mule, but of course, she knew that goblins held their ponies to different standards than humans would. “What are you doing here?” Mexi asked shyly, beaming at him. “Have you been waiting for me?” She leant forward and stroked Izzy’s head affectionately, who was happy to oblige. As unhappy as Izzy was with her situation, at least Grall seemed to have good taste in Mexi. The girl had always been kind to her — you can always tell a good character by the way someone treats animals, Izzy thought bashfully. “That was just a coincidence.” He winked. “Actually, I was going to offer you a ride on Buttercup, but I doubt that’s necessary any more.” Mexi smiled sheepishly. “Albaea was my aunt’s; I’ve known her for a long time, but I’ve never dared to ride her before, but we always got on well. My aunt was so happy that I finally started riding, she gave me Albaea straight away!” “She’s gorgeous!” said Grall. The ponygirl neighed contentedly and Grall stroked her cheek. “Is she fast?” “Find out!” Mexi spurred her mare on and rode off. She was clearly not a skilful rider, she let the reins hang down and did her best not to fall out of the saddle. Grall gave Izzy a little kick and rode off after her. Mexi’s pony was fast, but she was no challenge for Izzy, as she quickly realised; good looks weren’t everything. Grall kept Izzy level with Mexi. “We still have some time, shall we go down to the river?” “You ride ahead,” said Mexi, which Grall was happy to do. It was better that way, as Albaea could simply follow them while Mexi continued to cling to the saddle. Grall spurred Izzy on and steered her along a narrow path between the trees that led through the dense undergrowth to a small branch of the wide river. It was a quiet spot, with a tiny beach extending right into the riverbed. A few frogs sat among the reeds, croaking at each other and the new visitors. Grall jumped off Izzy and wordlessly tied her to a tree with a tight knot, as if she would otherwise run away from him. Izzy rolled her eyes, but Grall just shrugged his shoulders. Mexi did the same to Grall and secured Albaea to a branch; the horse hardly seemed to notice, she looked around with wide eyes — whether leaf or bird, everything was examined closely and with great curiosity. It was almost cute, Izzy thought. Albaea must be a little older than Izzy, but she still seemed innocent, almost childishly naive. “Don’t look at me like that,” Grall whispered to Izzy. “That’s what you wanted.” Before he could say anything else, Mexi’s voice struck him like a slap in the face. “What have you done to Buttercup?” the girl asked indignantly, stroking Izzy’s sore bottom gently. “That’s cruel!” She shoved Grall into the dirt, and Izzy immediately liked her an extra bit more for it. “Tell me that wasn’t you!” Grall bowed his head, embarrassed. “Unfortunately, I did. Buttercup nearly kicked a groom. I didn’t mean to, but my father — or rather, the grooms — insisted.” “Rubbish, ponygirls aren’t so stupid that you have to whip them so cruelly. That’s pure barbarism!” Mexi’s horse agreed vigorously. “You’re right, I’ll never allow it again!” Grall defended himself. “She’ll officially be mine in a few days, then I can protect her.” Izzy neighed. That may have been true, but it actually made the problem between them worse, and Grall still didn’t seem to fully understand. “You don’t have to promise that to me,” Mexi barked, “but to your horse.” He nodded slowly. “I already have. She knows I won’t allow it again. But this punishment has broken things between us. It’s going to take time for us to trust each other again and be friends once more.” He avoided Izzy’s gaze, who was listening carefully. Mexi raised an eyebrow. “You’re really friends with your horse?” There was nothing malicious in that question, Izzy realised with relief, but a genuine wonder. After all, she had seen that Grall had treated her like any other horse so far. No doubt many goblins loved their animals, but friendship was probably unthinkable — and by now Izzy quite understood why it was seen that way. Grall seemed relieved at the change of subject. “She was my best friend until very recently, but I’ll find a way to make it up to her. Ponygirl or not, she means a lot to me.” He smiled at Izzy, whose stone-cold shell around her heart melted a little. “Maybe you’re right. After all, some ponygirls used to be human, and some of them are quite clever.” Her ponygirl neighed in agreement and Mexi laughed. “Albaea, you’re my favourite in the world, but as a breeding pony, you don’t know anything about this sort of thing.” Albaea snorted playfully, gave her rider a kiss and let her mistress scratch her head. “You have a beautiful horse. Does it come from the Far East? I’ve heard that these white horses are specially bred there.” “That’s true. She was very expensive, her breeding pedigree goes back over a dozen generations. Your Buttercup is a stunning ponygirl, how can she be so perfect but not be bred?” Izzy’s ears turned red at this praise. “She also comes from a long breeding line, her mother was the ponygirl of a king,” explained Grall proudly. “Her father is a free man. You could say I snagged a priceless pony for free.” He stuck his tongue out cheekily at Izzy, who responded to this provocation with feigned arrogance. She lifted her nose as high into the sky as her tied reins would allow. “Come on, I didn’t pay anything for you, did I?” She playfully nudged him aside with her broad bum. What else could she do, he was right after all. She was — she knew this by now — a valuable ponygirl, and she had simply put herself at his mercy for nothing. “Come on, let’s go to the water.” With that, the two left their ponygirls by the tree. Being left behind like this would probably never become normal for Izzy; but she was, after all, just an animal that should — even had to — wait for her rider. She looked after the boisterous goblins thoughtfully. A wild storm still raged in her head; despite the anger, it felt good that her — former — friend had found someone so well suited to him; but at the same time, here she was, tied to a tree, and if this were her future, she wouldn’t be able to share that happiness. No boy would court her, give her a kiss or take her somewhere so romantic. Not that Izzy had hoped for anything like that to happen before; her daydreams of Bastian were never more than that: dreams. Although, nothing would happen with the damn chastity belt anyway until its owner allowed it. In her mind’s eye, she could already see herself tied to a hard rack while a stallion pleasured himself to his heart’s content. This was not the kind of romance she had always dreamed of, and yet it might well happen, the metal between her legs left no doubt about that. A pleasant warmth spread through her lower body. She hurriedly tried to push the thought aside, but it wasn’t as easy as she had hoped, partly because the memory of Grall’s rough fingers and how they had felt between her legs came back to her mind instead. A ponygirl had a lot of time to think, Izzy realised, and cursed the reins for it. Grall and Mexi rolled down the beach — already stripped to their underwear — intertwined and tumbled into the water laughing. Their mouths appeared to be fused. Neither of them seemed to be bothered by the fact that two girls tied to a tree were watching them. But why should they mind being seen by their animals, humans showed no shame in front of their cats. “That was nice,” Mexi purred and lay down on the beach, but something didn’t seem right. “What’s wrong?” asked Grall, overprotective. “Have you been hurt? “No, but there are lots of small stones in the sand.” Her green lover looked around frantically; Grall was probably afraid that their brief snogging would end abruptly if he couldn’t find a blanket or something similar. His search became more and more desperate, and Izzy could only roll her eyes: he was really ill-prepared, and if he didn’t try, his fun would be over quickly. She would kick his ass with her hooves if he messed up with Mexi. She watched him for a moment, then she had an idea. She neighed loudly, but Grall waved her off. She continued neighing and kicked the tree so hard that an acorn fell and landed on Grall’s head. “Ouch! Stop that,” he hissed and stomped over to Izzy. “What do you want, I’m busy.” He took the horse bit from her mouth. “You’re the clumsiest boy in the world,” she whispered in his ear. “Untie me, I have an idea.” “Where do you get a blanket from?” He didn’t have to emphasise the “you” so much, Izzy understood perfectly well that she was just a ponygirl. Izzy sighed, “What have I done to deserve you. Untie me and lead the way.” He put the horse bit back in her mouth and led her cluelessly to the bank, but his face immediately brightened when Izzy lay down on her back next to Mexi and looked at her invitingly. “Oh! I mean…” he grinned sheepishly, “if you’d take a seat, please?” He held out a hand to Mexi and pointed invitingly at Izzy’s breasts. “You mean you want me to lie on her?” Mexi asked uncertainly. Grall half threw himself onto Izzy — who was slightly breathless — and pulled Mexi towards him with vigour. “You’re pretty bold,” Mexi whispered, looking him straight in the eye as they both rested their heads on one of Izzy’s breasts. It was a strange sight for her to see the two goblins gazing lovingly at each other while lying on her stomach, but there was also something strangely beautiful about it. The love between the two was so fresh and pure that it warmed Izzy’s heart even in this odd situation. However, she also hoped that nothing more would happen; despite the warm feeling in her stomach, she didn’t want to become their love nest. The two goblins lay on their backs and, holding hands and with their heads softly cushioned, looked up through the treetops into the morning sky. The forest was already wide awake and life was celebrating its daily dance above their heads. It was a beautiful spectacle, Izzy had to admit. The two goblins were light, and the sand was by no means hard for them; Mexi had probably exaggerated a little to give Grall a chance to be gallant, Izzy surmised. Clever girl. “Will that work with Albaea?” Mexi asked dreamily, but the pony neighed discontentedly. “It’s not for every ponygirl, but it’s fine with Buttercup. She’s plump enough that her bones don’t poke you and she’s very well-behaved.” Izzy was about to snort, but there was nothing malicious or spiteful in his voice. It was just an observation, and it was true. Grall looked at his watch. “It’s time to get going.” The two goblins were dry by now and slipped into their clothes — although Grall accidentally pulled up Mexi’s dress first, much to the amusement of the other three. “I’ll get Albaea,” Grall offered, but Mexi only whistled briefly. Her pony pulled on the reins, which immediately loosened. “You haven’t tied her up?” “Why should I, she won’t run away. She likes to be with me. Don’t you trust Buttercup?” Grall scratched his head. Izzy could clearly see him struggling with an answer. “My father requires her to be secured at all times,” was his only explanation in the end, but Izzy knew he had evaded the question. “Then I guess your father doesn’t know anything about ponygirls after all; dealer or not. But that’s to be expected, you deal with so many ponygirls that you never really get to know them. But Buttercup is your own ponygirl. Look her in the eye and you’ll know what she’s thinking. She’d never run away without a good reason. Right, Buttercup?” Mexi rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small packet of the treats and Izzy ate it from the flat of her hand faster than Mexi could shout stop. “You’re pretty greedy, no wonder you’re so soft.” Albaea hadn’t missed the scene either, she stomped around jealously. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten you, you little brat,” joked Mexi, throwing one of the sweets in a high arc to her mare, who caught the sweet elegantly — and despite the horse’s teeth — in flight. Izzy watched the spectacle with wide eyes; she couldn’t have done it. It wasn’t easy not to feel like a clumsy mule afterwards, Izzy had to admit to herself, but Albaea’s disarming grin dispelled any envy. “We’d better hurry or we’ll be too late,” Mexi adjusted her dress, which Grall’s hands had really messed up, and climbed into the saddle. “I bet I’m faster at school,” Grall quipped, urging Izzy on, but he whispered in her ear, “Please let her win.” Izzy nodded slightly and took off running, but not so fast that Albaea couldn’t keep up. Stupid, stupid bet The goblins’ school was hidden by a small hill behind the forest on the edge of the village; it was a flat building made of mud bricks and an old thatched roof that blended in nicely with the landscape. A low hedge framed the school grounds and also enclosed a stable and a couple of sheds belonging to the school. “You’re doing well,” Grall praised Izzy, who didn’t have much trouble keeping close behind Albaea. The bred pony was visibly excited and pleased to be in the lead in this little race. With every other stride, she took a small jump, which of course only slowed her down. Luckily for Izzy, Grall also refrained from using the whip, but he didn’t want to win anyway; nevertheless, it was a relief for her battered bottom to get a little break. The main gate was on the other side of the school grounds, and Izzy followed Albaea down the hill. They had almost reached the bottom when a loudly screaming Kreks whizzed past them. “You’re too slow, Grall!” he shouted, spurring Lisande on with hard blows. One of the blows hit Izzy on the rump as she rode past, who howled angrily. “I’ll show you!” He kicked Izzy in the side, who immediately took off running. As soon as she started moving, she was hit with the first blow of the riding whip, motivating her to gallop faster — the time for recovery was over. She stormed past Albaea and took up the chase. “Faster. We’ll catch him!” But that was easier said than done; Kreks had a good head start and the path was narrow and ran close to the hedge. Small branches protruded and cut open Izzy’s arm. They were rounding the last bend when it happened: a mole had dug a hole in the ground, and Izzy stumbled halfway into it. She was lucky to avoid a fall, but her foot twisted painfully despite the sturdy pony boot. Izzy groaned and Grall immediately jumped out of the saddle. “Calm down, Buttercup, let me have a look first,” he said, feeling her leg through the boot. Izzy whimpered at the touch. “Nothing seems to be broken. We just need to take it easy on you and I’m sure it will heal soon.” He led Izzy by her reins into the school grounds. They were both limping. “You can rest for the next few hours. We’ll have a closer look when we get home.” Izzy gave him a dirty look, but then she nodded. There was nothing more they could do anyway. “It wouldn’t have happened with a real rider,” Biscuit sneered patronisingly. He obviously had no sympathy for Izzy’s pain. “That wasn’t a fair race, you had a head start.” Grall gritted his teeth. “She’s wasted on you. Now she’s even limping because of you,” Kreks sneered. His voice left no doubt that he still didn’t really care about Izzy. Through it all, he held the whip in his hand and, even standing up, slapped Lisande’s butt if she moved too much. Izzy’s eyes burned with anger. “Look how well I’ve already trained Lisande, soon I’ll be doing the same with Buttercup.” Lisande looked pleadingly at Izzy, who was almost heartbroken. Kreks looked mockingly at Izzy’s bottom. “Have you finally understood how to train an animal? Perhaps you’re not a lost cause after all.“ Izzy growled angrily, but unfortunately that didn’t impress Kreks. Mexi had also arrived by now and pushed her way between the arguing boys. A fiery glare met Grall’s eyes. “You wanted to let me win. I know Buttercup is fast, you didn’t have to trick me.” Grall blushed. “No, I just wanted to ride with you for a bit. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?” “Don’t ever do that again, or else…” said Mexi and rode past him. Albaea also snorted angrily, which seemed rather comical in her case. It was hard to take offence at the white mare. Saxea, who had so far kept to the background with Sunshine, trotted up slowly. “What a disaster,” she mocked. “Do you like her? Admit it, you’re in love!” The little goblin girl grinned and winked at Izzy, but Grall just rolled his eyes. Until now, Izzy hadn’t thought about the fact that Saxea had to go to this school too — but it made sense, there was only one goblin school in the neighbourhood after all. Like Izzy, Sunshine seemed a little nervous, after all, it was also her first ride to school as a horse. The two nodded knowingly to each other, waiting anxiously to see what happened next. A goblin teacher with big glasses and a walking stick came out of the school, ringing a small bell in his hand. “Come in quickly. Tie the ponygirls to the post, the caretaker will look after your animals.” The pupils tethered their horses as instructed, with Grall briefly informing the caretaker of Izzy’s problem. “Nice horse,” a boy called out to Grall. “So it’s true, you’re finally riding. Congratulations!” Several other goblins also looked at Izzy, Sunshine and Albaea with interest before the teacher herded them into the school with a broom. Apparently, new horses were not common, and three in one day was probably very unusual. Yet, Izzy would have gladly done without the attention, it still made her nervous when new goblins only saw her as an animal — even if it was true. The beginning of the first lesson not only marked the start of a new school day, it was also the dawn of a whole new day for Izzy. While the children of all ages studied hard for their future, she and the other twenty ponygirls would have to wait for their riders until the end of school. Izzy guessed that it was a daily routine for most of the ponygirls, but for her, it was unfamiliar, and it wouldn’t be long before it became a mind-numbing routine for her too. The caretaker turned out to be a petite, wrinkled and, above all, stone-aged goblin, who walked towards them bent over with a short walking stick. Izzy watched him with interest as he took the first horse. He seemed to be well-experienced, as his first move was to bandage the ponygirl’s legs — making escape unlikely. He took the horse with him and led it into the stable. Soon most of the other ponygirls had gone — including Sunshine and Albaea — and it took a while before it was Izzy’s turn. That gave her enough time to have a closer look at the school building. It was an old building, older than her own former school, and had no glass windows, but there were shutters to protect the students and teachers from the weather. Thanks to the glorious sunshine, all the shutters were wide open, allowing Izzy an intimate view into one of the classrooms. The floor was made of solid clay — as always, the goblins loved to be directly connected to nature — and the students were perched on small mounds of earth with their writing utensils right on their laps. They sat in a large circle and the teacher stood in the centre and told them about the cities of the humans. Most of the students listened with interest, but Grall only seemed to have eyes for Mexi. His chin was propped up on his arm and he stared at her without blinking, which some other students commented on relentlessly. Izzy rolled her eyes; once this boy was obsessed with a girl, he forgot everything else in the world. Her stomach clenched, and a thousand emotions swirled around in her head. Anger, joy, jealousy, hatred, love… how many thoughts could one actually feel for a single goblin? The whip, the chastity belt, the night in the stables, his mischievous grin, the rough fingers and the realisation that he was meant for Mexi and not her… Izzy sighed. The shackles on her legs dragged Izzy back to reality. The caretaker untied her reins and led her slowly into the dark stable with small steps, careful not to strain her aching leg. Once there, he untied her leg restraints, opened her pony boot and applied a little ointment to the joint. “Don’t put too much weight on it, it’ll take a few days to heal. Don’t look at me so surprised, I know you’re not a bred pony. You’re a girl from the village, I recognise you. Strange to see you here now, but we’ll take good care of you, don’t be afraid.” Izzy nodded gratefully, yet she felt horribly uncomfortable that she had been recognised once again. She lifted her gaze and looked around after her eyes had adjusted to the dimness. The stable was a small building with barely enough room for all the ponygirls. The windows were small, and the roof was low. It was not a nice place, especially not as pleasant as the classroom, and to make matters worse, although he took off her saddle — under which her hands were now additionally tied as usual — Izzy was now, like all ponygirls, almost completely naked. Only her chastity belt gave her some privacy, and she was almost grateful for this terrible construct. There was some food and water in a corner, but as the horse bit remained in — as did the ponytail — eating and drinking wasn’t much fun. But Izzy had another goal, and it was already looking at her for help. Lisande was waiting at a window and neighed with relief when Izzy pressed against her. Shaking hands was out of the question anyway, even a normal conversation was impossible. But they both knew what it was all about: Kreks and the suffering that Lisande had to endure at his hands. Sunshine also joined them and gave Lisande a friendly nudge. Despite the horse bits in their mouths, they soon found a common language of neighs, deep looks and the occasional letter that they drew in the straw with their hooves. It turned out that Lisande’s reality was even worse than Izzy had feared. Her stall was tiny and bitterly cold at night, plus Kreks’ riding gear was deliberately uncomfortable and his riding style harsh and cruel. It was obvious he wasn’t just trying to make her compliant; his aim was to break her completely. Lisande begged Izzy in every way she could to help her, but what could a ponygirl do but feel pity? It was the fate of horses to be at the mercy of their owners and riders. Another thought slowly but relentlessly crept into Izzy’s mind: despite everything that had happened, she had been very lucky with her owner — the thought still felt wrong — after all. Grall was young and wild — and he often didn’t think before he acted — but he never acted out of cruelty. The whip was unwelcome to Izzy, but even she recognised how useful it often was, but apart from that, he cared for her lovingly. And yet, above all, he was now her owner, or soon would be officially; and her rider, who had once been her friend. The remaining ponygirls spread out in the communal stable and dozed off standing or sitting. Izzy marvelled at this ability to completely surrender to doing nothing, but she quickly became bored. She looked out of the only window and watched the birds in the trees as time passed at a snail’s pace. Only Albaea provided some diversion. She kept joining Lisande, Sunshine and Izzy like a playful puppy, where she was often completely blind to when she was interrupting. She seemed to have chosen Izzy as her new big sister and absolutely nothing could change that. Sunshine in particular seemed deeply irritated by the bred pony; her naive playfulness didn’t fit in at all with Sunshine’s rather rebellious nature, who accepted her life as a ponygirl, but certainly didn’t view it with the same devotion as the snow-white ponygirl did. Sunshine always turned away from her, but Albaea seemed to see this as a game and gave the grumbling mare even more of her undivided and highly energetic attention. — The school break brought new life to the courtyard. The goblin students fled noisily from the actually very nice classrooms and filled the courtyard like a green plague with laughter, teasing and a real playfulness that Izzy wouldn’t have expected from them. Grall also came storming out with Mexi, but Kreks was hot on their heels. “Leave us alone!” hissed Grall. Izzy pricked up her ears. “Not until you’ve listened to me!” Kreks snapped, grabbing Grall roughly by the shoulder. “What’s so bad about a race? Are you afraid you’ll lose?” Mexi crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Get lost, Kreks, we want to be among ourselves.” “You can smooch around later,” said Kreks — and Saxea, who was listening to everything from a safe distance, giggled. “Still, I’m right. Lisande has only just become a riding horse, but thanks to me, she’s already faster than Buttercup. You wouldn’t stand a chance.” Grall wiped Kreks hand off his shoulder and put his arm around Mexi instead. “Too bad we’ll never find out.” He led Mexi to the stable and they stood in its shadow, right under the window. It wasn’t a visit to Izzy, she quickly realised, the house only provided a good cover — but she still listened carefully. “He’s a really annoying idiot sometimes.” “That’s what people say about you too.” “Only the people who know me.” Grall sniggered. “Why is it so important to him who’s faster?” Mexi rolled her eyes. “Ignore him, he just wants to tease you. He’s jealous, that’s all. Don’t you have more important things to do?” Grall looked at her confused, then he understood. Izzy turned away, she wanted to give them some privacy, even if they both didn’t care. Albaea was less restrained, she pushed Izzy aside and watched her master unabashedly and free of any shame. Izzy regarded her thoughtfully; had mum always been as much of an animal as Albaea, or was this an outlier? What did such a long breeding line do to a human like her — or even herself? A loud shout from Lidea across the yard separated the two, obviously to Grall’s displeasure. Izzy headed for the window and neighed until Grall opened the window wider and took the horse bit from her mouth. “We can’t talk here, I can’t speak to my horse here,” he reminded her. “Thanks for reminding me, I’d totally forgotten about that. I wondered why they put a ponytail up my butt!” Izzy explained sarcastically. “Listen, we have to do something for Lisande. She can’t stay with Kreks, he’s cruel!” Lisande agreed, whinnying, and Sunshine nodded too. Albaea stood a little further back in the stable; it was obvious that she was uncomfortable with a horse-to-rider conversation. “That’s not possible, she belongs to Kreks, or rather his father. I don’t like what he’s doing either, but there’s nothing I can do.” “You’d better think of something. You said I could trust you. Prove it. Show me that you really care about a tortured ponygirl. Earn my trust,” she said brusquely. Albaea neighed uncertainly, she was probably not used to an animal making demands — that was even worse than speaking. Her hooves trampled nervously on the straw floor, and her eyes were as big as tea plates. The little greenling was silent for a while before finding an answer. “That’s not fair of you.” He was right about that, Izzy knew that too, but the wretched sight of Lisande did not leave her heart untouched. “Well, I’ll see what I can do. But I can’t promise you anything. What he’s doing is legal.” Lisande stood next to the window and sobbed a little. “Promise me you’ll take it seriously.” “Is it really that important to you?” asked Grall. “Absolutely. No matter what it takes, you have to help her.” “I promise you!” With that, he put the horse bit back in Izzy’s mouth, stroked her and Lisande’s cheek once — and ruffled Albaea’s hair, who whinnied and fought her way to the window — and closed the window. Only Sunshine had stayed in the background; Izzy had often noticed that she only accepted Saxea, while the other goblins were still not very popular with her. Grall walked around the school, visibly thoughtful, and Izzy realised with a grumble that he hadn’t even asked about her leg. — The rest of the school day was as boring as the first half. While the students concentrated on their lessons, the ponygirls had nothing to do but wait. The sun was already high in the sky before the caretaker struggled to push open the old stable door. The weathered wood swept aside the loose straw and fresh air flooded the small, stuffy room. Izzy was standing in a corner with Sunshine, Lisande and Albaea; the four of them were dozing peacefully, leaning against each other and blinking at the bright light coming in. The caretaker took one of the ponygirls out at a time, saddled them up and tied them again in front of the school so that the students could ride home. That was what the ponygirls were there for after all; it was their purpose to be a means of transport for the students, that was the only reason they were here in the first place. It was still a strange thought for Izzy, partly because it made her own time seem so insignificant. Waiting for hours so that a child had to spend a few minutes less on the way to school seemed utterly silly to her, and yet it was the reality of this place. Albaea was jumping around so excitedly that the caretaker gave her priority treatment, followed later by a very unhappy Lisande, Sunshine and finally Izzy, whose leg was still hurting. The teacher opened the door and let the students out. One by one they jumped down the small staircase; most of them ran from the yard on foot, while others mounted their horses and rode off. Saxea also ran to Sunshine, both greeting each other with an affectionate kiss on the nose. Only Mexi and Grall were nowhere to be seen, instead Izzy heard a loud discussion from the door. Before she fully understood what was going on, Kreks flew down the stairs. He had a black eye and was rubbing his head, but he quickly picked himself up and seemed ready for a fight. His small fists were aimed at Grall, who was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at him with a burning gaze. “You’re a coward, Grall,” the other boy shouted. “And you’ve got a big mouth, but I’ll shut it if you don’t stop!” hissed Grall with clenched fists, Mexi barely able to stop him from jumping down to Kreks. “Besides, it’s not about that stupid bet. You should stop telling your lies!” “It’s not a lie, I’m sure of it. We can all see the way you look at her. And she looks at you. No, there’s something going on between you and Buttercup!” Izzy stomped off in horror, Grall had also turned red again. The remaining ponygirls — apart from Albaea and Lisande — neighed in disgust at Izzy, who gave them a dirty look in return. Even Sunshine grimaced, even though she stayed silent. “I would never touch an animal like that!” shouted Grall. That was the truth, Izzy knew, unless he was forced to, but the disgust with which he had said it was still hurtful. Did he really feel that way, or was it the accusation of breaking such a well-known taboo that he was so angry about? It was considered unthinkable among the goblins to have an intimate relationship with a human, especially a ponygirl; still, it was one thing to know a rule, but quite another to have it thrown at you with such fervour. He turned his head briefly towards Izzy and his gaze softened. There was something apologetic in his eyes. “There’s that look again! Disgusting. Prove she’s really just an animal to you and get in on the bet!” “Shut up, Kreks, my brother’s not like that,” Saxea hissed from Sunshine’s saddle. She clearly towered over the older goblin boy, but he seemed unimpressed. “You have no clue! Are you telling me they’re never alone? Has he ever slept in her stable?” “Yes, but…” Saxea stuttered. Izzy swallowed. She had hoped that no one on the farm had noticed. “There you have it. Grall, what do you say?” shouted Kreks. A mean grin split his face in two ugly halves. Mexi stroked Grall’s arm gently, but he was still looking at Izzy, and Izzy at him. Their eyes kept meeting and there was something about it that Izzy didn’t like. What was he up to? It was obvious to her that he was struggling with a decision; what was he thinking about? “I don’t have to prove anything to you. And to no one else here!” Grall finally shouted. His gaze briefly jumped to Lisande, then he said more calmly. “Buttercup is my horse, and she means a lot to me, but what Kreks says is a lie. But I’ll take the bet. After this, you’ll never talk such bullshit again!” “When it’s over, my lips are sealed. I promise!” Kreks pulled at his ears, which among goblins was considered a sign of an important oath, even if it looked very silly to Izzy. Kreks really meant it. That sealed the deal. Grall gave Mexi a kiss on the cheek as he went past and ran wordlessly to Izzy. He loosened her reins, jumped into the saddle after a “Tack!” and gave her the spurs before Mexi could say anything. Izzy limped from the yard, but Grall hardly seemed to notice. Although he spared her the crop, his shaky hands roughly guided the reins as he kept giving her the spurs. Something was very wrong, Izzy realised, but what had just happened? Why had Kreks claimed this nonsense, and what was this ominous bet? It was only after five minutes — they were already deep in the forest — that he stopped, clumsily climbed out of the saddle and ordered her with a weak “Zhrak!” to kneel in a waiting position, which she did out of instinct. Izzy watched him confused. She, too, was trembling at the accusations — and also because she herself was still unsure how she really felt about Grall — but something about him was different. Grall had leant against a rotten tree and began to sob terribly. Tears ran down his face. A deep pain ran through Izzy’s heart: her — former — best friend was sitting so close and crying, but she couldn’t help him; their roles in life were like a wedge between them. She would have loved to comfort him — despite all the trouble of the last few days — but with her arms under the saddle, she couldn’t even hug him. With a ponytail up her butt, she was probably not made for comforting a goblin, she thought bitterly. Above all, she was puzzled by her own calmness — it was she who was the animal waiting for her rider, yet he seemed helpless and vulnerable in this situation. Was that a sign of strength, or had she already distanced herself so far from him that his tears no longer touched her as much as they used to? She shook her head slowly. No, it wasn’t that. Even if she hardly admitted it to herself, she was actually upset too; it was more of a deep tension that made her almost silent — but she felt that could change at any moment. After a particularly loud sob, he wiped his face dry. “I did something stupid,” he said in a brittle voice. “Kreks really wanted to have a race. Him against me, you against Lisande. I didn’t want to, but he started telling his lies.” Izzy lifted her head and snorted angrily. She didn’t want to become part of a stupid bet, or race for the entertainment of goblins. She felt the tension turn to anger. What was he thinking! Grall, you’re an idiot, she thought. She couldn’t tell him through the horse bit, but no doubt her eyes revealed her thoughts all too clearly. Grall lowered his head and gulped. “That wasn’t all,” he whispered, turning away as if he could no longer look her in the eye. “It wasn’t a normal bet, there was a stake too. I didn’t really want to do it, but then I thought about what you said about Lisande and… I wasn’t really thinking it through. He knew exactly how to make me angry. He set a trap for me and I walked right into it. The worst part is that I forgot about your leg. I was so sure you were going to win…” Slowly, Izzy’s anger gave way to deep concern. It wasn’t the first time Grall had made a stupid mistake, but it had never made him cry so much. It had to be something bad, and she guessed the answer to the unasked question even before he opened his mouth again. But she had to hear it from him. She formed a word around the horse bit with her lips. He nodded slowly. “We bet on Lisande.” He shivered. “And on you. The winner gets both horses.” Izzy neighed and jumped up. Her leg protested, but she ignored it. She tried to say something, and finally Grall took the horse bit out of her mouth. “You dumbass, you should be helping Lisande, not surrendering me to Kreks!” hissed Izzy shrilly. “Besides, I don’t belong to you, I belong to your father. You have to cancel the bet, I can’t win with my damaged leg.” “I can’t do that, everyone has heard that I’ve accepted. For my father, bets are sacred. Once made, they must be honoured. He’ll punish me severely if I lose you, but he’ll give you up anyway. You know how he is. He loves you, but he also sees you as a ponygirl and will do what he thinks is right. I’ve held it against him that you don’t sell family, so you can imagine his reaction when I tell him now that I bet you.” Izzy bit her lip. She had wanted to help Lisande, and once again her willingness to help had blown up in her face. Maybe she should stop trying to help others, Izzy thought, but she knew all too well that it was probably just too much in her horse’s blood. She turned pale and slumped down into the moss. “What happens next? “We’ll ride home and get you ready. The race is in three days, so we don’t have much time. We have to concentrate on your leg. Remember, if we win, you’ll both be safe.” He was about to climb back into her saddle, but Izzy turned away from him and stayed seated. “Tack!” he said irritably. Izzy shook her head. “Not so fast. There’s something else we need to talk about. I mean, what Kreks said…” Now it was Izzy’s turn to gulp loudly. Grall avoided her gaze. “You want to know if I love you?” Izzy noticed his cheeks blush and she unconsciously did the same. “Do you?” “Of course!” he said without hesitation, but he didn’t look her in the face. Something was wrong, Izzy realised. She waited impatiently until he finally continued: “I love you, with all my heart. More than a goblin has ever loved a ponygirl — or a human. But… it’s not that particular kind of love — that way I love Mexi. You’re…” “A pet?” asked Izzy, immediately hurt, though he hadn’t even implied that. “No, it’s different.” “Like a sister?” Izzy asked, and the tremor in her own voice didn’t escape her either. “Not like my stupid sister either,” he replied, grinning again. His red eyes were a stark contrast to that. “Of course, I love Saxea, but it’s different with you.” He was visibly desperate to find the right words. “In the end, doesn’t it matter how I love you? You are important to me. You have always been. I’d go to hell and back for you if I had to. And you, do you love me after everything that’s happened?” Izzy knew this question had to come, but she had no answer. She dusted off the deepest corners of her soul, dug into hidden depths that she herself had almost forgotten, and looked at more than one precious memory from a new perspective, but nowhere was the answer to be found. So she had no choice but to listen to her heart. “You’re… I think I’m…” she paused for a moment. “You’re the only goblin I’ll ever love.” It wasn’t an easy answer for her, but it was the truth. “But… I guess you can’t give me what I need.” She nudged him as he laughed filthily. “That’s not what I mean! Well, not just… but I need a human, I guess. Or maybe not, it’s all so confusing.” Grall exhaled deeply and sat down next to Izzy in the moss. “So you’re not jealous about Mexi then?” “Hell no! She’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a long time!” She gave him a little bump with her head that almost made him roll off the moss. “You’re right, I’m very lucky with you two. I’m marrying Mexi, and you’re getting my brand.” He stuck his tongue out at her teasingly, knowing exactly how she would react. “Careful, don’t take it too far. But if you don’t love me like that, what’s with the chastity belt? I thought you were jealous of Titan.” “Maybe I am,” he admitted to her surprise. “But you really have changed. It’s just to protect you. There’s no evil thought behind it, that’s the truth. Are we friends again now? After all, we’ve just confessed our love for each other.” But to his disappointment, Izzy shook her head. “I guess love is sometimes illogical and painful. I’m not ready to be friends again yet. Not as long as you still have so much power over me. You know I’m right, you just bet me!” Her voice had become sharper, and Grall bowed his head. “When the race is over, everything will change. You’ll see, I’m a man of my word. We’ll win and free Lisande — then we’ll finally be friends again.” “But first you go to Mexi and tell her that you love her. I swear to you, if you mess up with her, I’ll kick you to the mainland!” “You’re right, I should show my love more clearly.” He leaned forward and gave Izzy an intense and long kiss on the mouth. Only his tongue held back, but his rough lips pressed tightly against hers. She looked puzzled into his eyes after the kiss. “What was that about?” she asked uncertainly. Everything had seemed clear until just now, and now she was as confused as she had been at the beginning. “So that you never forget how much you mean to me.” He smiled warmly and licked his lips. “I just have to find a way to explain all this to her. You’re sure you can live with the fact that I love Mexi?” She grinned broadly. “She’s nice — much nicer than you, actually — and a good match for you. Hopefully, I’ll find someone who suits me that well, too.” His taste lingered on her lips. “A nice stallion, perhaps?” joked Grall, but Izzy just rolled her eyes, yet she didn’t refute him. This was not what she imagined love to be, but the thought alone had an effect on her. Apart from that, it was good to have spoken to Grall. Her problem was not solved, but the certainty that Grall felt so much for her gave her a feeling of security. Especially because she believed him without any doubt. He wasn’t fooling her, she knew that; he wasn’t perfect, but who is, Izzy thought, and let him climb into the saddle. For a moment, the future seemed brighter again, but then she thought of the bet, and the dark clouds gathered on the horizon once more. In three days’ time, her future would be decided. Either a friend would be waiting for her afterwards to help her regain some freedom, or Kreks would show her the darker side of life as a ponygirl. — Back at the farm, Pexo lovingly tended to Izzy’s leg. It was swollen, but the medicine eased the pain. Nevertheless, the race was close and it was foreseeable that she would not be fully recovered by then. In full health, she would no doubt have left Lisande far behind, but now that was no longer so certain. That evening, Izzy heard Oozol shouting at his son half the night for this stupidity, although he was probably more concerned with business than with Izzy. He obviously wasn’t a big fan of his son losing a ponygirl on a bet, especially one as valuable as herself. But for Izzy, it wasn’t about money, it was about her freedom — her whole future. But it wasn’t just her freedom that was at stake, she also had to be strong for Lisande. If she won, they would both be safe, but if she lost, they would face a bleak future together. — Izzy stood in her stable and thought hard — the night was still young, and the sun had only just disappeared behind the mountains — when she heard soft footsteps outside her stable. The door was opened carefully and Pexo beckoned her out. This was very unusual, but Izzy did as he asked. He didn’t even have a lead for her, instead he simply waved her behind him, like a good friend to whom he wanted to show an exciting secret hiding place. That was nonsense, of course, but Izzy was curious and a little excited about what he wanted to show her. Finally, he stopped in front of Titan’s stable, and Izzy’s jaw dropped. She neighed excitedly. Pexo winked. Izzy looked around confused, but there was no-one else to be seen — just Pexo and her in the yard, and Titan in his stable, she smelled. It was a strong and pleasant odour, exciting and inviting. Pexo opened the stable door and stepped aside. He gave her the choice. This wasn’t breeding, it wasn’t forced, it was an offer she could refuse. But she was already standing in the stable and heard the door close behind her before she had finished thinking. Her body had answered for her. Pexo closed both halves of the door. Suddenly, it went dark. All was silent for a moment, then Izzy heard the familiar sound of Titan rising from the straw. Although she had come to the stable voluntarily, she was nervous at the thought. He was big, almost enormous even compared to her; and in more ways than one. She heard his rapid breathing and his approach. There was the sound of the chains again, so Pexo hadn’t untied him from the wall; that left Izzy with a retreat if necessary. The big stallion came closer and closer until she could feel his breath on her neck. She stood with her back to him and he pressed lightly against her. His muscles quivered on her back; they were hard and hot. She shivered pleasantly. His scent was overwhelming, clouding her senses and making her head feel light and terribly heavy at the same time. She felt him getting excited, his hardness pressing against her soft butt, the contrast of the two igniting a fire between her legs. How much she had longed for this moment, more than she had ever dreamed of Bastian. Titan had dominated her dreams for days, he was a perpetual presence in her thoughts. Had she become so much of an animal that this was necessary for her to feel pleasure? Or was it simply because of how undeniably more masculine Titan was compared to all the other men in the village? Like herself, Titan also had a horse bit in her mouth, so kissing was out of the question. Not that horses were known for that anyway, and yet she longed for it. She felt her knees slowly soften, but then Titan took a few steps back and neighed. Izzy looked over her shoulder into the darkness and understood. He wanted her to come to him. She was to be a good mare and come to her stallion, let him mount her at her own will and devotion. It was a game of power and he knew he held the better cards. He wanted to dominate her, and deep down she wanted it too. Izzy sighed, at that moment she probably would have done anything. She turned away from him again and took a few steps back, deeper into the stable and butt first to a stallion that wanted to pleasure himself on her. How much more of an animal could she become, she thought, but ultimately, it didn’t matter. She needed him. And he needed her. Titan was now pressing against her for good. His chin was above her head, and she felt terribly small and weak. He must weigh almost twice as much as she did — and he didn’t have an ounce of unnecessary fat on his body. He bent his knees a little and pressed his magnificent body between her legs, then neighed in displeasure. Of course, Izzy cried to herself, she was still wearing the chastity belt! Then Grall had probably been right about her needing it after all, if not for the belt she would certainly have marched back to her stable that night with a foal under her heart. Her other gate was also sealed with the ponytail, and her mouth filled with the bit. Whatever Titan could have of her, her innermost was denied him, at least for this night. But that didn’t seem to upset him much. He gave Izzy a little push and she landed on her knees. She understood what he wanted. She was an animal and so she had to give herself to him; and to make matters worse, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. It was honest, pure and somehow also very arousing. Just a few days ago, such a move would have been unthinkable for her, but something about the conversation with Grall had changed her. She now knew that he loved her, but in a way he had also released her, just as she had released him. They could love each other in a pure way that was not in competition with their love and lust for others. Their love was not exclusive, and therefore probably particularly deep. While she was thinking far too hard, Titan was only focussed on himself. His arousal dripped slightly from his hard steel and as he rubbed between Izzy’s legs, it was enough to slide between her thighs. It was no substitute for the real experience for Izzy — which she had not yet been granted — and yet, it was unique. Feeling him, smelling him, knowing he was behind her and above her almost took her mind away. He rubbed himself further and further between her thighs, close to the metal that hid what longed so much for him. But it was still overwhelming for Izzy. When he finally spurted between her legs against her stomach and breasts, she almost collapsed under the sensation. Her heart raced in her chest and she lay down on the fresh straw with him, exhausted. Although he was a stallion, he could not be accused of being cold-hearted. He pressed himself against her from behind and his closeness soothed and warmed her. They were almost asleep together when the door opened once more — albeit only the top half. Izzy looked out and the moonlight shone on Grall, who looked down at her with a warm smile. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. They both knew that Izzy had taken another step in the life of a ponygirl, but even he recognised that she felt no remorse in doing so. Yet another thought flashed through Izzy’s mind as she looked at Grall’s silhouette against the moonlight: who was it that was looking back at her? Was he her friend, happy for her to enjoy a night of fun; or was he her future owner, giving his mare a taste of her future? Was there even a difference? The race “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Grall said over the edge of the door and smiled at the sleeping Izzy. The rising sun was behind his head, giving him the appearance of a halo — which, in Izzy’s opinion, he certainly didn’t deserve. She blinked confused, tossed and turned a little and managed with difficulty to sit up, but to her shock there was straw stuck all over her body; not that she was entirely surprised, she quickly remembered the wild and long night that lay behind her. Titan, for his part, was snoring away in a corner, clearly not yet re-energised for the day ahead. Izzy came to the stable door on shaky legs, and Grall removed some straw from her face. Her eyes stared at him uncertainly. “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. A little fun never hurt any ponygirl… well, it won’t hurt you. I hope.” Izzy lowered her eyes and whinnied softly with the horse’s bit in her mouth while Grall scratched her behind the ears. This was new, but she liked it. He opened the stable door and led her by the hand to the washing area, where he secured her to her breast rings with a lead before taking everything else off her — including the bit. Only her arms were secured behind her back again, as was the rule. “Zhrak!” She went to her knees on instinct. “How’s your leg?” he asked as he poured a bucket of warm water over her head. It was strange to Izzy how normally he talked to her while treating her like a horse. The duality of such situations was still hard for her to grasp — especially when her whole body was covered in dirt due to Titan’s sticky love. She swallowed quietly. “It hurts again, the night was a little rough.” His wide grin was no help to her. “You’ve really pushed him, I’ve never seen him so tired. Usually, he’s only with the mares for a short time, a whole night with you must have satisfied his hunger for days.” He playfully slapped Izzy on the bum, who neighed out of habit, which amused Grall even more. As a human she would have been terribly embarrassed if Grall had even thought such a thing, but as a ponygirl it seemed strangely unimportant who knew. The love of horses seemed more public and less private. “We’ll give you some new medicine right away and your leg will be better. I’ll take it easy on you until the race, you’ll stay in the stable. I’ll walk to school, that used to work too.” “I didn’t want to go there anyway,” Izzy grumbled, but of course, she knew it wasn’t her decision. While she was thinking about it, Grall undid the chastity belt and her gaze drifted briefly to Titan’s stall. “Don’t even think about it, as long as you’re a horse, it stays on. You clearly showed why that’s necessary that night.” There was a certain sternness in his voice. “You promised that you would find a solution after the race. Then I can decide for myself again!” He nodded slowly. “I promise. When we’ve won, we’ll go on a trip, just like before. But you can forget about Titan, no human is allowed in his stable. I’m sorry, but stallions are for mares.” She noticed his intense gaze, he must have guessed her thoughts. While he washed her between her legs, he continued: “If you still want to be my horse from time to time, I might forget the ponytail occasionally. Purely accidentally, of course…” Izzy’s mind split in two at this offer. One side was desperate to be human again, but the prospect of a night with Titan was promising. As so often, Grall held the door to life as a ponygirl open for her, and that no longer surprised her. But what was more important now was whether he would really keep his promise. Once she was halfway free, she could make a new decision for herself without coercion or influence. The day alone in the stable was hardly more exciting than waiting in the school stable. Although there was more to see in the yard, it was still lonely without direct contact with other horses. As was to be expected, Saxea came back first with Sunshine after school, and to Izzy’s great surprise, the little goblin girl led her ponygirl straight to Izzy’s stable. “Here, Sunshine, you can keep Buttercup company for a while,” the girl whispered and even took the horse bits out of their mouths. “But no talking!” She winked and closed both halves of the stable door to give them some privacy. Sunshine stretched her jaw. “How are you?” “I’m bored out of my mind. Besides, my leg still hurts. How am I supposed to win a race with that?” “You should have kicked Grall’s ass for that. A little kiss from your hooves would make him think twice.” Izzy grinned and nudged Sunshine playfully. “You wouldn’t do that to Saxea either.” “She’s not as stupid as your owner.” “Oh, so Miss I’m-a-special-horse doesn’t have an owner. Nonsense, you belong to Oozol, and he’s going to gift you to Grall.” “Still, Grall isn’t my owner yet,” said Izzy grumpily. “How is Lisande?” Sunshine paced around the stable and seemed to avoid the question, but Izzy followed her until Sunshine realised that silence was pointless. “She wasn’t there. Kreks was missing too, his father excused him. I’m sure they’re practising while you’re just standing here with a damaged leg. Shall I give Grall a little kick? I don’t mind a few smacks on the butt.” “If you try that, then…” Despite all the fun between them, Izzy’s look left no doubt as to what was meant. Sunshine’s eyes travelled back and forth between Izzy’s powerful thighs and her own rather meagre legs. “It’s okay, I was only joking. But it’s bad at school without you. Albaea never leaves me alone, she’s so…” “Cute?” “Annoying!” scolded Sunshine, but Izzy just giggled. “She’s just a breed pony, she can’t help it.” “But she’s so… naive! She wouldn’t even run away if you forced her to.” Sunshine rolled her eyes. “You’re some kind of breed pony too, and you don’t act like it!” She bit her lip. “At least not in the same way.” “What are you saying?” Izzy looked Sunshine straight in the eye, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. “It’s like this… you’re the only volunteer ponygirl in the whole area. Besides…” Sunshine swallowed. “We all overheard your night with Titan. You weren’t exactly quiet. He’s handsome, no question, but he’s an animal. A stallion and not a man.” Izzy blushed slightly, then arched her back. “So what? Most of the ponygirls have been with Titan.” Sunshine tilted her head. “Actually, no. Usually, the goblins take him to the mares that are tied up the most. You’re the first one to spend a whole night in his stall.” “Oh.” That was all Izzy could manage. She had suspected it, but hearing it like that felt different. “Don’t worry about it. We all do what we have to do to survive as ponygirls. You’re registered and, like us, you have no choice, so don’t get upset.” “What if I did have a choice?” asked Izzy uncertainly. Grall had promised her a piece of freedom that Sunshine would never have again. Was that unfair? Sunshine took a step back. “You’d be crazy to stay a ponygirl by choice. You felt on your bottom, how stupid that was of you. Do you want to be whipped again? Or wait until Oozol sells you? Breed pony or not, don’t throw your life away.” There was real fire in her words. Sunshine took a deep breath and swallowed. “But maybe that’s just the difference between a captive ponygirl and you.” Izzy felt those words deep inside her. Even though Izzy had only slipped into this life herself, this fact seemed to put a wedge between Sunshine and herself. “Cheer up, you’ll make the right decision, whatever that means. You’d better concentrate on the race. Lisande is inexperienced, but fast. You’ll still win. Why should she do her best and then stay with Kreks? She’ll probably stumble on the first lap accidentally and let you win.” “I hope so,” said Izzy and grinned — but a small yet intense spark of doubt blazed inside her. It couldn’t really be that easy. Kreks was a monster, but he wasn’t stupid. “You need to tell me a bit more about your night with Titan, I can even smell him on you. Grall still needs to practice washing,” Sunshine joked, and Izzy was only too happy to share the night’s experiences with the other mare, who was yet to have her encounter with the magnificent stallion. Although Sunshine clearly didn’t appreciate life as a ponygirl, she didn’t seem completely averse to TitaWhat are we doing n. — There was only one day to go until the race and Izzy’s leg was still not fully healed. The tension could be felt throughout the yard. Pexo and Grall came to her stable every hour to check her leg — as if anything would change that quickly — but with the heavy hoofed boots, a clean trot was simply not possible, let alone a fast gallop. “An injury must be enough reason to cancel!” shouted Grall across the yard, but Oozol, who was walking slowly behind him, just shook his head. “She was already injured beforehand, that was your mistake. You have to make the best of the situation.” “And if we lose? Am I going to go to her father and say: sorry, but I lost your daughter?” grumbled Grall. “But that’s precisely what you did. Besides, he probably won’t be back for another two or three days. Let’s hope we have better news then. This is your fault, my son. But in this family, we honour bets. No matter how the race turns out, one of you will lose a ponygirl in the end.” Grall turned around on the spot and looked his father straight in the eye. “Even if it’s Izzy?” “Even if it’s Buttercup.” It hadn’t escaped Izzy’s notice that they both couldn’t agree on her name, but eventually, it didn’t matter. She was Oozol’s property, and he chose Buttercup. “There must be a way! You have so many books, isn’t there something in any of them?” The old goblin crossed his arms. “Don’t look at me like that, I don’t want to lose her either. But she’s a registered ponygirl, and you bet her. That’s how life works. But look through the books if you think you can find anything. How’s her leg?” “Not good, the boot makes it difficult to walk. But there’s not enough time to get another one. All the other boots we have are too small for her. Hers were the only ones that fitted. Her breeding line is just very different from the other horses.” Izzy snorted in her stall. The thought of being nothing more than a bred animal still angered her deeply, even though she knew it was the truth. The humiliation was just too deep. Oozol lowered his eyes and seemed to be thinking. “Maybe I have an idea after all.” Izzy tried to listen carefully, but the old goblin whispered the rest. — “What are we doing here,” Izzy asked as she followed Grall. He led her behind him on a leash by the breast rings. It was far from pleasant, but Oozol had insisted if riding wasn’t an option. She looked at her father’s house and a sting ran through her heart. Not long ago, she would have described it as her home, but even to her that no longer seemed right. Her home was the stable at Oozol, she knew that. “What did your father whisper to you?” “I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but maybe there’s something in the barn that can help us,” Grall replied, tying Izzy to the front door of the barn out of sheer habit. “Untie me, or are you afraid I’ll run away?” she complained. “There’s no one here to see us!” Grall nodded hurriedly and freed her, also untying her arms. “What are you looking for?” It was an unfamiliar but extremely welcome feeling to be able to use her hands freely again. She stretched and the blood finally circulated properly through her whole body again. Grall pushed some straw aside and opened the secret door in the floor before climbing down the rickety ladder without saying a word. “There they are!” he called loudly after searching for a while. Before he was more than halfway back up, Izzy grabbed him by the collar and lifted him out with ease. “Hey!” he shouted in surprise, almost dropping the pony boots in his hand. He hung wriggling in the air and looked at her with wide eyes. “Put me down!” “What’s the magic word?” Izzy grinned broadly. She had only wanted to help him up, but holding the squirming goblin in her hand felt strangely good. After the hardships of the last few days — and the power he had gained over her — a little role reversal did her good. The little goblin flailed his arms and legs, but eventually gave up. “Dear Butter-… Izzy, PLEASE put me back down.” As he had asked, she carefully set him down on the straw and stroked his head. “This way we could become friends again,” she mocked, but Grall didn’t seem satisfied. “That was mean, I only want to help you!” he grumbled sulkily and threw the pony boots at her feet. “Don’t be so overdramatic,” Izzy said, pricking him with a finger. “You hit me with a riding crop, but if I lift you in the air, the world is about to end.” “That’s not the same at all. You’re much bigger and stronger than me.” Izzy snorted. “You know damn well I would never hurt myself.” “That’s not the point. Never mind. Let’s go check on the pony boots instead. My dad told me they’re your mother’s. Unlike the other things, they really are from the royal family and not imitations. They are of such high quality that no shoemaker in the whole area could make anything comparable. What’s more, they only fit your mother — and with any luck, you.” The shoes were made of the finest leather, and slightly larger than usual for ponygirl boots; just what Izzy needed. They were unusually light, although they seemed even sturdier than her usual boots. There was not a seam to be seen, and the material appeared to mold perfectly to the skin: it was robust on the outside and soft as a cushion on the inside. Izzy put her old boots to one side and slipped into her mother’s pony boots. Her leg immediately felt a little better. The boot supported her and still gave her the freedom of movement she needed to run long distances as a horse. Grall had a closer look at her leg. “Looks good. Fits perfectly, you must really look a lot like your mother. Try it out!” Izzy took a few steps through the stable, but the pain had not completely disappeared. Nevertheless, she felt a warmth rising in her body that had nothing to do with the material. She had taken another step closer to her mother, shared a bit more of her life and was now almost literally following in her footsteps. The shoes must have accompanied her mother for hundreds of kilometres, and now they would hopefully lead Izzy to freedom — or at least spare her a life under Kreks. New courage drove her out of the shed and before Grall could stop her, she was running in a wide circle across the yard, her arms behind her back as if by habit, as if she had long forgotten how to run with her arms swinging. She stopped in front of Grall, who looked at her uncertainly. “What’s going on? Did you think I was going to run away from you?” “No, of course not!” he lied badly. “You just left so quickly all of a sudden.” They were both silent for a moment. The possibility of running away was not completely off the table for Izzy, she would rather try her luck in the forest than suffer under Kreks; nevertheless, it surprised her how much Grall already seemed to be suffering from the thought. Izzy looked across the yard and noticed a strange symbol in the mud between the imprint of the horseshoes. “The hooves leave the coat of arms of a king,” she said in amazement. She didn’t know the coat of arms, but as it was her mother’s pony boots, it could only be the sign of royalty. “My father had the hooves made especially for her. It was a stupid idea, but he probably wanted to make her happy.” Grall shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t worry, no one will notice on the racetrack.” He closed the trapdoor to the secret cellar and pushed some straw over it again. Before Grall could say anything, Izzy got down on her knees and opened her mouth. But the goblin waved her off. “How about we take a little trip just as friends? You’ll get your horse bit back soon enough.” He smiled at her and they both went for a walk through the forest before Izzy slipped back into the role of horse. — “Are you ready?” asked Grall after he had saddled Izzy. His fingers were trembling slightly, which Izzy couldn’t help but notice. He also looked tired, which was no surprise as she had seen the light from his room through the boards of the stable during the night. He must have hardly slept, although she didn’t understand what he had been doing there all this time. “Not really, but I guess it doesn’t matter, does it?” replied Izzy, opening her mouth so that Grall could insert the horse bit. From here on, she was just a horse again, albeit one whose future was uncertain. She felt the wet ointment on her ankle as her mother’s soft pony boot nestled against her leg. This little piece of family on her feet gave her at least a little support for the challenge ahead. “Good luck to you both,” Pexo said as he walked past, patting Izzy lightly on the bum. Izzy neighed gratefully. “Don’t worry, you can’t lose at all,” Grall assured her, wearing his riding clothes again. “Besides, I have a plan.” That was all he told her. He climbed into the saddle and steered Izzy to his father, who was mounting a horse. “We’re done.” “You have to forbid this,” Saxea scolded, riding up on Sunshine. “Why should Buttercup suffer because of my stupid brother?” “A true goblin honours debts. Besides, nobody forced him to make the bet, did they?” “And if he loses?” “Then he no longer has a ponygirl.” Izzy neighed unhappily and Grall wasn’t happy either: “That’s not right, she’s not like the other ponygirls.” Oozol crossed his arms and looked sternly at his son. “She has a registration number on her breast and my name is on the register. You’d better hurry. You can lose if you’re late, too.” Izzy swallowed through the horse bit. Oozol was completely serious, there was no doubt about that. Her only hope was to win the race, or she would be a tortured beast of Kreks for all time. She stamped lightly, but the familiar pain returned immediately. The six — or three, if you counted only the goblins Grall, Oozol and Saxea — rode through the strangely deserted village; even the grey goblin women who usually sat in front of the huts were nowhere to be seen. A faint wind swept through the streets, banging the shutters on the abandoned houses. Izzy shuddered, where was everyone? It was almost spooky. She neighed nervously, not helped by Grall’s occasional stroking; how could he understand her feelings, after all, it wasn’t his freedom and entire future at stake! It was bad enough to be the pet of a — former? — friend, but a life under the whip of Kreks could not be good; the beating with the branch had been enough to make her hate him for the rest of her life, and she could see all too clearly in Lisande what was in store for her too. They turned onto a small avenue at the end of the village with a wide line of trees that led them straight to the place where Izzy’s future would be decided. Although Izzy lived not far away, she had never been here before — what was the point, she never wanted to watch poor young women being driven and humiliated by their owners for the entertainment of others. The racecourse was a place where no human normally strayed — except with a saddle on their back. — The racecourse turned out to be an ancient arena from a dark past, of which only two overgrown grandstands and a well-maintained circuit in the form of a gravel track still bore witness today. Centuries ago, half-naked ponygirls had to be driven around the bends with whips to entertain the green masses. There was an air of eternity about it all; the stone borders at the bends were decorated with weathered goblin runes that no one could decipher today, but alongside them were drawings of young women being ridden hard by goblins. Before long, Izzy would join the long line of horses being raced around the track for the fun of the greenskins. The two decaying grandstands were already buzzing with activity. Apparently, word of the race had spread rapidly among the goblins, which also made it clear where all the villagers had gone. The atmosphere was great and some spectators shouted a few small bets to each other. The goblins stood on the hills all the way down to the racetrack, waiting eagerly in the morning sun for the riders to arrive. Cheers erupted at Grall’s arrival, and Izzy blushed slightly — the celebratory mood of the goblins didn’t match her feelings at all. It was strange for her to have so many eyes on her. The goblins clapped enthusiastically and witnessed Izzy being ridden with reins by one of their own, who would soon be using her as a racehorse. She had actually got used to the experience by now, but there was a difference between having a dozen or a hundred eyes staring at you. The start and finish line was painted just after the first bend; Kreks was already waiting on Lisande and was celebrated by the spectators. His father held the reins and talked to his son before pointing to the new arrivals. To Izzy’s amazement, Lisande wore a tight hood over her head, covering her eyes and ears; only her mouth and nose were exposed. “Look who’s here. Your ponygirl is still a bit limping, hopefully you’ve said goodbye to her,” sneered Kreks. “Surely, you don’t mind walking home.” “Buttercup will never be yours,” Grall growled, and Izzy stamped her feet in agreement. Izzy glanced over her shoulder and noticed an incongruous confidence, as if he was absolutely sure of himself. “I didn’t realise NEVER was in just a few minutes.” “Hello Oozol,” Kreks father said, ignoring Grall and Kreks bickering. “May I assume that you will honour the bet?” “Of course,” replied Oozol. “She’ll be mine!” Kreks nagged again. “Be quiet, son. Show me what you can do at the races and don’t let me down. Don’t you dare lose an expensive ponygirl on this childish bet.” Kreks turned pale. He stuttered with the next words. “I’ll win, father, you’ll see. I’ll make you proud!” His father huffed. “It’ll take a lot more than that.” Kreks had no choice but to bow his head. Izzy would have liked to laugh at this, but it wasn’t the right place or time. The general murmuring among the spectators intensified, but Mexi easily drowned them out. “You can do it! I believe in you!” she shouted at the top of her lungs and Grall immediately beamed. In her hand she held the reins of Albaea, who was prancing around excitedly on the spot. “Buttercup, Buttercup!” The crowd joined in, and her name — her horse’s name — kept going back and forth between the hills. Izzy was blushing; this much attention made her uncomfortable, even as a human it would have been bizarre, but as a horse it was absurd! Above all, it was strange that so many of the spectators thought she could win as a ponygirl — she, the simple girl who had avoided ponygirls like the devil avoids holy water just a few weeks ago. Grall led her on and only stopped before the starting line. Did the goblins know about her mother, or did they just have a good eye for her lineage? Izzy was trembling. This was perhaps the most critical moment of her life. She had been through many crossroads in the last few weeks, but this one was particularly decisive — here and now it was decided whether there was another chance of freedom, or whether she would spend the rest of her life as a common ponygirl under the whip of Kreks. Her heart was beating wildly before she could even take the first step, and her senses were running at full speed: she heard the spectators, felt the hard sand under her hooves, smelled the grass on the hills and felt Grall’s restlessness in the saddle. “Once you’re mine, I’m sure my father will be proud of me,” Kreks whispered to Izzy, grinning grimly. “And you’ll be wearing my brand tonight. Then this belt will come off too, you’ll bring me a lot of money.” Izzy neighed nervously and avoided his gaze, which wasn’t easy with the reins on the horse’s bit. Grall led her to the side and, to her surprise, took the bit out of her mouth. “Does your leg still hurt?” he asked. “What do you think?” she replied snappily. “Let’s get this over with. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible.” “May I…” Izzy nodded. “If you skimp on the whip and I become Kreks pony because of it, I’ll kick the living daylights out of you!” Her eyes burned like fire. “You’ll owe me one after that!” It was a strange thing for her to say; asking him to hit her as hard as possible was really not something that had been on her wish list a week ago. It was almost as if she was talking about another horse, but of course, she knew she was about to feel the hard leather on her rump. “Just one more thing…” She bit her lower lip and grimaced. Grall nodded and led her to a nearby row of trees, where he undid her strap and a small flap on her chastity belt. She knelt down and realised how many of the onlookers were still watching her. It was ghastly, but on hearing “Rhida Kess” she still peed automatically without being able to stop it. “Please line up,” she heard from the side, and Grall quickly got Izzy ready again. It was Werdox, who had saddled Izzy at school; he gave her a friendly nod. “Everyone except the riders and their horses, please leave the track. Good, then we’re ready to go. Today will determine who has the better horse, and is the better rider: Grall or Kreks. The rules are as follows: The race lasts two laps, no one is allowed to interfere and the horses must stay on the track with their riders on their backs. If a rider falls off, he loses. Whips and spurs are permitted, as are horse bits and reins. Ponytails are optional, but I see Buttercup is still having fun with hers.” Izzy lowered her eyes, embarrassed. “Did you get that?” Grall and Kreks nodded, as did Izzy, which amused the onlookers greatly — after all, Werdox hadn’t been talking to the animals, but to the riders. She was just the wager and an animal, but a sport was performed by the athletes — in this case, the riders. “Do both parties agree on the wager?” “I agree,” said Kreks. “Not me!” Grall’s voice was firm and determined. A murmur went through the rows of spectators. Izzy looked over her shoulder, eyes wide — she knew what Oozol would do if he chickened out of the bet — but Grall looked her straight in the eye, then shouted, “I demand the right to Dom’Boxem!” Grall held up a book: “The Dictionary of Ancient Traditions and Customs.” The older members of the audience — who probably knew what it was all about — jumped to their feet and a wild argument broke out, although Izzy understood nothing of it. She had never heard of something called Dom’Boxem, but it seemed to be a big topic of discussion among a small group of goblins. Oozol ran towards them with long strides, his head was red and Izzy wouldn’t have been surprised if smoke was about to come out of his ears. “Have you lost your mind?” the goblin hissed. “You can’t risk everything for a ponygirl! Buttercup means a lot to me too, but you’re my son! Stop this nonsense, right now!” “Father’s right,” Saxea hissed from behind Sunshine’s back. “Buttercup will win just the same, you don’t have to take such a big risk.” “She’s not just a ponygirl,” Grall disagreed, stroking Izzy’s head. “She’s my best friend, and I’m proving it here and now!” The words did not fail to have an effect, a pleasant shiver ran through Izzy and she neighed. Oozol did not calm down. “You could lose everything!” “Better than Buttercup having to go to that monster. I will never allow him to torture her.” Izzy stamped her feet, confused. When would someone finally explain to her what was happening? Grall leaned over to her, “Dom’Boxem means you change the stakes on a bet: I traded you for all my possessions. It would be dishonourable for Kreks to refuse, after all, that’s all I have to offer. It’s the only way I can force him to leave you alone. Since you belong to my father, you are safe.” Izzy stared at him in surprise, even without the horse bit she would have been at a loss for words. It was an affectionate gesture, but in the end it was the same stupidity he had used to get her into this situation. He was still the foolish little boy from before, just a little bigger and older, Izzy thought. “But that only applies if the new stake is higher than the first,” Oozol warned. “Even if it is, I won’t allow it. Withdraw it, or… or -” Oozol seemed to be desperately searching for a suitable threat, and to Izzy’s annoyance, he found it “- I’ll give Buttercup away to Kreks right here and now! Then at least this nightmare will be over.” Grall jumped off Izzy’s back — ignoring his damaged leg — right in front of his father, who took a step back in surprise. “If you dare…” No more was needed, Oozol only had to look into Grall’s eyes to understand the consequences. The old goblin swallowed; Izzy had never seen him so agitated, and Grall never so serious. Finally, Oozol nodded. “Fine, she’ll stay with me. But this is a mistake, but at least you’re taking it seriously. I’m strangely proud of you.” Werdox waved Grall and Kreks over. “The stakes have been changed. Kreks horse for Grall’s possession. Are both sides in agreement?” Kreks laughed meanly. “What’s the point, why do you want to get rid of all your stuff too? What’s in it for you?” “Buttercup will never be yours. That’s enough for me.” “I won’t accept that — if you bet everything, you’ll bet her too!” Grall shook his head. “She’s officially my father’s and not mine. You know the register.” “I want Buttercup,” Kreks insisted. “She’s more valuable than all your thalers and rubbish. You’re a nobody and you can’t claim Dom’Boxem like that!” “Can you prove that you have enough property to claim the right to Dom’Boxem?” asked Werdox uncertainly. “Then I offer myself as well.” “You, as my servant?” asked Kreks, visibly shocked, but he quickly collected himself. A dirty grin flitted across his face again. “Five years, and you must do everything I ask. You’ll only be slightly better off than a ponygirl.” His voice dripped with scorn and derision. “If that’s what it takes. Fine by me.” Grall spat at his feet, but they both shook hands. Izzy got down on her knees for Grall so he could get back up, but he pressed his face to hers instead and gave her a kiss, to the amazement of the onlookers. “Is that proof enough of my friendship for you? We will save Lisande, as I promised you. And the risk is mine alone. Fuck the money. Fuck the farm. Fuck people like Kreks and his father. Only Mexi and you are important to me.” It hadn’t escaped Izzy’s notice that he had mentioned Mexi first, but she felt no bitterness. Fittingly, Mexi fought her way through the thick wall of spectators and hugged Grall. “What a stupid idea, but I love it! Kreks doesn’t deserve a horse like Buttercup. Besides, you’re not in any danger, you’ll win no matter what. See you — both of you — at your victory.” Izzy neighed in agreement, even if she wasn’t so sure about her leg. Her eyes fell once more on Lisande, who was strangely unconcerned. Her head was still hidden under her hood, but now Izzy noticed that something seemed to be stuck in the mare’s ears. She must not have been able to see or hear, which explained why she hadn’t reacted to anything so far. “Prepare the horses.” Grall climbed back into the saddle; a groom came to Izzy and tied a thick black cloth around her head. Complete darkness enveloped her. “Relax,” Grall said. “This is to stop the horse from controlling the race. You have to trust me blindly now. Just watch the reins. A flag is the starting signal, so wait for my spurs.” Izzy nodded, but her mind was still spinning. Until a moment ago, she was sure it was all about her, but now Grall’s future was at stake. Was that better, or worse? He had got her into all this, but… he was her best friend; again. It was bad enough having to fight for her future, but she certainly wouldn’t let Grall down. Hopefully, Lisande wasn’t as quick as she looked. “Just a moment,” a voice Izzy vaguely recognised called from the ranks. All she heard was him apologising many times and the loud “Hey!”, “Ouch” and “Careful” from some goblins. The speaker was probably struggling down the stands and literally stepping on some people’s feet. Izzy heard a cloak rustle beside her and remembered the voice: it was Jedol, the tax collector. “I hope these pretty little horses are still properly taxed, aren’t they? I remember Grall’s, but it never hurts to check.” Izzy felt his cold hand between her legs and shivered, but the goblin kept fumbling until he found the tax tag. He seemed to do the same with Lisande, who whinnied discontentedly herself. “Forgive this brief interruption. But everything must be done properly, right?” He slapped Izzy hard on the rump and left. “Attention!” Werdox’s voice echoed across the arena, silencing the crowds in the stands for a brief moment. It was the same silence that had reigned in this arena for hundreds of years, whenever a new race was about to start and poor girls were waiting outside to be whipped by their masters. Izzy shivered. Time was standing still, then again everything seemed to happen at once. Grall gave her the spurs and she ran off. The wind blew through her mane and she felt the explosion of the whip on her bruised bottom. The race was in full swing, but she had no idea how it was going. With the bandage on, she was blind, but she couldn’t hear Kreks through the noise of the spectators. Was he behind her, or so far ahead that she no longer had a chance? She howled under Grall’s blows and jumped further and further forwards. Her leg complained with every step and she felt herself losing speed after the first few strides. It wasn’t like usual when her legs simply flew over the sand, here she had to push herself and fight against an inner resistance that now decided Grall’s and Lisande’s future. Grall struck harder than ever before, even during the punishment he had not put such force into his blows. The spurs also found her flank again and again. It was terrible, and yet she was prepared to endure anything that would get her across the finish line first. She reached the first bend and willingly followed the reins round the hedge and sprinted on under the pelting blows of Grall. The spectators had quietened a little and Izzy heard the familiar clop-clop-clop of hooves — her own, but also Lisande’s. They were to her left and close behind her; so she was leading, albeit narrowly! But why was Lisande trying so hard, Izzy thought between the lashes of the whip. Surely, she had nothing to gain and only something to lose? Was it too much to ask if she just stumbled for a moment? “Faster!” shouted Grall and struck again. He held on to the saddle with all his strength, while Izzy’s whole body was dripping with sweat. The blood was pounding in Izzy’s ears and she found it difficult to think, but luckily, she only had to run and concentrate on the reins. She was even grateful for that today, as she wasn’t able to do more under this pressure. Grall seemed to take the next bend tightly. The first round was done, but Lisande was still very close. Kreks was certainly not a good rider, but Izzy’s leg was not as fast as usual. The pain increased with every step, and Izzy sensed that the race had better not go on too long. The spectators cheered as Izzy and Lisande were driven hard by their riders. The whip hit her on the bottom again and again, but then a second blow hit her on the breasts at the same time. She howled and the spectators also cursed. Had Kreks just hit her during the race? Was that even allowed, Izzy asked herself, but by then she had already been hit a second time by the other rider. Scumbag. Cheater. Animal abusers, thought Izzy, already planning what she would do with Kreks after the race, but then a light dawned on her. Of course, Lisande knew nothing about the bet. Izzy had only found out about it in the forest. Lisande certainly believed that she would be severely punished if she lost, rather than being set free. Kreks, you monster! “You monster!” shouted Grall, as if he had heard Izzy’s thoughts, but he too howled as if he had been struck by Kreks” whip. “I’ll show you!” Now it was Kreks’ turn to shout, but Izzy no longer felt any blows. The two riders had to fight hard, and Izzy and Lisande often came so close that Izzy could feel the other horse’s breath. The race entered the penultimate bend and the battle became fiercer. More and more spectators roared and the two riders howled under their mutual attacks. It was no longer a race; it was a battle of the riders in which the ponygirls had little part. They reached the final bend and Izzy felt that she was slightly in the lead, but there was no time to cheer; her leg was burning like fire by now and she felt herself losing her balance. She tumbled forwards and her legs tangled with Lisande’s — both fell to the ground, whinnying. Izzy lay dazed. The world seemed to have frozen. It was only when someone removed her blindfold that she realised what had happened. Lisande, Kreks and Grall were lying in the dirt like her and everyone watching held their breath. Grall was the first to get up and limped over to Izzy. “Are you all right? What happened?” Izzy looked at her leg and Grall beckoned a vet over who applied a new ointment to Izzy’s leg. Nothing seemed to be broken, but the pain continued for a while. Werdox pushed forward and looked down sternly at the two riders. “That was a dirty race. You two should be ashamed of yourselves! The crops are for the ponygirls. You don’t hit a goblin with a whip!” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Who won?” asked Oozol. “Both riders have fallen off their horses and the horses are on the finish line. Is it a draw?” “I’ll have to discuss that with the other referees,” said Werdox, retreating under a tree with a pack of goblins while Izzy slowly stood up. Her arms and breasts were cut up by the gravel, but at least she hadn’t broken anything. Lisande seemed to have had less luck, she screamed loudly as a couple of goblins helped her to her feet. Kreks hit her with the whip until his father took it from him and lashed it across his face. “You have disgraced me today. How could you let yourself be thrown from your horse in front of so many people!” grumbled Vepox, Kreks father, grabbing him by the ear. “What do we do if it’s a draw?” asked Oozol. “We could forget the whole Dom’Boxem thing and just swap the ponygirls. That would only be fair, wouldn’t it?” said Vepox. “We can’t do that, I promised my son that Buttercup would stay with us. Let’s wait for the verdict.” Izzy grimaced. Oozol seemed to be honouring the agreement, but everything was still at stake. Grall didn’t look thrilled either, even though he was holding Mexi in his arms. “Keep your fingers crossed. It’s going to be close!” Albaea pranced nervously behind the two of them, whinnying nervously. She kept trying to run to Izzy, but Mexi held her reins tightly. Saxea had also joined her brother and — quite uncharacteristically — held his hand, while Sunshine rested her head on Saxea’s shoulder. Everyone was tense. Finally, Werdox came back and quietened everyone down with a grand gesture. The tension among the spectators was palpable, but Grall and Izzy in particular were trembling with fear. Izzy was breathing heavily through the horse’s bit. “We’ve reached an agreement that, we felt, was the fairest solution under the circumstances,” Werdox said, and Izzy’s heart slipped into her stomach. It didn’t sound like a clear victory. “As we understand, both riders fell off their horses, which should disqualify them — not to mention the heinous use of the whips against another goblin. But there is a small but subtle difference: as we unanimously recognised, Buttercup fell on the finish line, after which Grall fell off her. Kreks, on the other hand, touched the ground in front of his horse. First, in fact.” Everyone held their breath. The result could be guessed, but nobody dared to cheer until it was clearly stated. “So Kreks has -” Izzy’s heart stopped “- lost the race!” Izzy was speechless for a moment, but remained silent afterwards because of the bit, but the spectators stopped her cheering. They lifted Grall high into the air and carried him across the track, shouting loudly; Izzy was also surrounded and hundreds of little hands stroked her, someone even spread some new cream on her battered bottom. Only one goblin seemed more interested in the track, while the rest celebrated. Kreks stood on the sidelines, boiling with rage. He rushed back to Lisande and was about to hit her again, but Grall jumped forward and gave him a good punch. The other boy fell to the ground unconscious. “Stop hitting my ponygirl — Lisande is mine now and we’ll take good care of her.” “You did well,” said a warm voice from right beside Izzy. She turned round and looked her father straight in the eye. “I guess I came back just in time. You truly are your mother’s daughter. I was told what happened here. I’m very proud of you for helping the other ponygirl.” He hugged his daughter tightly. “You’re even wearing her pony boots. They look good on you.” It hadn’t escaped her notice that he hadn’t taken the horse bit out of her mouth again. As much as he loved her, she really was a ponygirl to him by now. But something else was more important to Izzy. She got down on her knees next to Lisande and gave her a friendly nudge while someone took off her blindfold. Lisande obviously didn’t understand what was happening, but Grall explained it to her in short words. The sobbing horse’s eyes were wide open and she pressed herself against Izzy. Sunshine also joined them, while Albaea pranced around the three of them with wild leaps like a young foal. Sunshine rolled her eyes, then took a step back and pressed Albaea against Izzy and Lisande. All four ponygirls neighed contentedly. Izzy smiled broadly; everything was almost all right again. If Grall kept his word, she would soon be in a dress again. Lisande was safe and Grall hadn’t lost everything. It wasn’t perfect, but things were better than they had been a few days ago. She looked around at the spectators when she recognised Bastian on one of the hills. Her heart froze. Horse thieves “Where are you looking at?” Matheus asked his daughter, who turned to him briefly. She looked back at the hill, but Bastian was gone. His face, however, was burnt into her retina and would probably remain so for a while. She had expected anything, but seeing curiosity in his eyes had thrown her completely off balance for a moment. Of course, there was the familiar look of disgust that she was all too used to seeing in people, but curiosity? What had he expected from her life after seeing her as a horse in the school lesson? And why was he interested at all? What had he been doing on this hill when no human ever came here — except as an animal? If he wanted to see her humiliation, why this reaction? Izzy blinked and remembered that her father had asked her something. She tilted her head and mumbled something until her father finally got the idea to take the horse bit out of her mouth. “It’s… I’ve seen Bastian.” Her father scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It’s not like no one amongst the humans knows what happened to you. But I understand why it makes you uncomfortable. Do you want to talk about it?” “Not today,” Izzy replied, but before she could say more, Kreks had woken up and was obviously in a fighting mood. “This isn’t over yet! I’m going to get Buttercup, you’ll see!” But to Izzy’s astonishment, it wasn’t Grall who knocked some sense into him, but his father. He slapped him hard on the back of the head and hissed: “Haven’t you brought enough shame on you and me yet? Forget this horse already, it will only bring you bad luck. No horse is worth that.” He dragged his shrieking son behind him by the ear, and Izzy could only hope that was the end of the matter. “What are you looking at me so strangely for?” asked Matheus as Izzy focussed on him again. “Did you leave the horse bit in with my mother if you didn’t want to listen to her, too? Matheus suddenly blushed. “Well… maybe sometimes. She must have felt the need in her later years to make up for everything she couldn’t say before. She was an angel, but the horse bit was occasionally a blessing.” He looked at her guiltily, but Izzy just grinned. Her father was a good-natured man, and she could well imagine her mother accepting it just for his sake, to keep him happy. “Anyway, I’ll go congratulate your rider.” — “You really are the fastest horse in the whole neighbourhood,” Grall slurred. It must have been his third beer, and the spontaneous celebration was only just beginning. Word of the victory had spread quickly among the goblins — even among those who weren’t interested in horse racing. The celebration was spontaneous; everyone brought something, a small group played music and the rest danced, celebrated and laughed. Izzy and Lisande were extremely popular, they were always being given treats and stroked, but they were still not guests: they stood — together with Albaea and Sunshine — tied to a post at the edge of the square and could only watch the hustle and bustle. Izzy hadn’t expected anything else by now, but at least they had been treated by a vet beforehand and given a few medicinal herbs so that they were no longer in pain. Lisande had become visibly more relaxed since the race, now that she had realised that her life was back on a better course — even if she would remain an animal for all time. “You deserve a reward, my sweet. What do you want?’ said Grall, taking the horse bit from Izzy’s mouth, which had been reinserted meanwhile. She stretched her jaw and relished the freedom. “You promised me that I could be human again. You owe me something for this trouble here. I want to be human among humans again. But not here, too many people know by now that I’m…” “That you’re a horse? Fine, fine, if that’s what you want, we’ll do it together. I promise! We’ll travel a bit further away, where people don’t know you.” “Can’t I go alone?” Izzy asked sharply. Grall raised his hands in defence. “Yes, but I also have to take a few things to the bank, and I thought you’d like to do something with me again. As friends, of course.” “Friends don’t bet each other,” Izzy reminded him, grumbling slightly. “Won’t happen again.” He turned to Lisande, swaying. “Welcome back. You did well at the race, congratulations. Nice of you to lose, though.” He hiccupped. “After the party, you’ll be in a nice, clean stable. Strange, last week I didn’t have a ponygirl, now I’ll soon have two.” Lisande neighed uncertainly. “Do you look after your horses?” asked Oozol in a warm voice. He obviously liked his son in this role; not unusual for a man who wanted to inherit his farm at some point. “It’s good if you practise.” Grall crossed his arms in front of his chest and Izzy guessed what would follow. “While we’re on the subject of experience with ponygirls, you could use a little practice too,” he said in a voice loosened by alcohol. “Your training methods are bad. Bad, bad, bad!” Mexi listened in the background and nodded. “What?” asked Oozol, surprised. “You want to teach me a lesson about ponygirls?” The old goblin puffed himself up, but Grall stabbed him in the chest with his finger so hard that his father literally ran out of breath. “Exactly like that! Admit it, you’re afraid you’d like a ponygirl as much as Buttercup’s mother again. That’s why you haven’t had a steady horse for all these years.” Grall waited for his father to say something, but he just looked at him with wide eyes. “Gotcha! You need your own ponygirl again so you don’t forget what it’s all about. And as luck would have it, I’ve got one here! You need to change a few things about yourself, and that’s a good start.” He attached a lead to Lisande’s horse bit and handed it to his father, who continued to look at his son speechlessly. “Have fun. And no excuses. Lisande is your permanent ponygirl now. Be good to her — she’s mine, and I’ll be furious if you’re not nice to her!” Izzy watched the spectacle in silence and admired Grall’s courage in standing up to his father. Even though Oozol was rather small for Izzy, she also had respect for him — and not just because of the whip. Oozol kept looking from his hand to Lisande and back. “That’s… you never cease to amaze me, my son,” he finally said, scratching Lisande’s head. “All right, I’ll give her a chance.” “No, I’ll give you one,” Grall said, chuckling. Another small beer had disappeared into his stomach. “She’ll serve you well, I’m sure of it. Why don’t you take her for a ride right now?” Oozol swung himself into the saddle and actually took Lisande for a short ride, and Izzy couldn’t help but smile as he did so. Although Oozol had all the horses in the world at his disposal, something seemed to have changed for him. Perhaps he really hadn’t got over her mother all those years, Izzy mused, and Lisande was now a new beginning for him. The connection of goblins to their ponygirls would probably remain a mystery to Izzy forever; the strange mix of submission and affection — at least among the good goblins — just didn’t make much sense if you weren’t a goblin. The party then continued to develop splendidly. Luckily for Izzy, there were no humans to be seen, but that was little consolation after Bastian’s gaze from the hill. Hundreds of goblins already knew her as a ponygirl, she was registered and even living that life, and it was only a matter of time before the last human knew about it. A way back seemed increasingly difficult, even if Grall agreed. It was a depressing thought, but she wasn’t ready to give up hope just yet. There was always a possibility, no matter how unlikely it seemed. Even if Grall was now her friend again, it was still the life of a ponygirl, and she didn’t want to rule out the possibility that one day she might have to take a more extreme step. But how far would she have to travel before no one knew her any more and she would no longer be returned to the goblins — and her owner? — Late in the evening, Izzy was taken to the stables with Lisande. They shared a stable for the night and, to their surprise, both had their horse bits taken out of their mouths on Grall’s orders. They talked excitedly until the morning. As expected, Kreks hadn’t told Lisande about the bet or the conditions, instead he had threatened her with a severe punishment if she lost. “He tricked me,” Lisande grumbled. “You almost got caught too!” “It doesn’t matter now, he can’t hurt you any more,” Izzy reassured the other mare. “You’re Oozol’s horse now.” She bit her lower lip. It still felt strange to say something like that to another human, yet it was the truth. Like Izzy herself, Lisande was a horse, and Grall had every right to lend or give her away like that. As the hours passed, they found new topics and eventually Izzy dared a peek at Lisande’s butt, something she had strictly avoided until now. She already knew from shy glances out of the corner of her eye what she would find there, and yet it felt like a harbinger of her own future. It was a brand. Kreks mark was emblazoned on the pale skin and would forever remind Lisande of her former owner. “Did it hurt much?” Izzy asked cautiously. “Are you asking out of pity, or because you’re unsure when you’ll get yours?” Izzy raised an eyebrow. “That’s not going to happen!” she said seriously, although of course she knew it might not be her decision forever. “If you have any say in the matter,” Lisande said. “The branding was terrible. It’s one of the worst things the goblins can do to us. And they’re so terribly proud of it. You’ll see, Grall will press the hot brand on your ass with his own hands.” “Never!” Lisande laughed out loud. “You’re sitting here with a tail stuck in your ass and you really think it’s up to you? It’s all right, you’ll survive. Still, I’ve never quite understood why they’re doing this to us. I’ve seen ponygirls with multiple brandings. What’s the point?” Izzy shrugged her shoulders. “I think they just like to see us with their mark. Especially if it’s forever.” Lisande looked at Kreks’ mark. “Forever…” She swallowed. “Do you think Grall will give me his brand? Or Oozol?” She shivered, but Izzy didn’t know the answer to that. In the morning, Lisande was taken out of the stable first — her wounds were already well again thanks to the medicine — while Izzy was freed from her bridle and got her dress back. Her leg was a little better by now, but she was still left in the pony boots to protect it further, but Pexo removed the horseshoes. The boots disappeared almost completely under her dress, only those who looked closely could see them. It was strange for her to be able to swing her arms while walking again after such a long time. Some other things were also unusual, her ponytail was missing, even her head felt unusually light and free without a bridle. There was only one thing that still bothered her. Izzy reached between her legs, undid the last straps and threw the chastity belt across the square into a corner. It was a liberating feeling, but she also felt strangely naked now. Of course, everything was covered, as it should be, but the loose fabric did not give her the same security as the tight straps and her saddle. Lisande seemed to notice and neighed in amusement. Titan looked out of his stall and didn’t look amused that his mare was dressed up. Izzy winked at him and looked at the chastity belt lying in the dirt, and the stallion snorted happily. Izzy grinned back, even though she remembered Grall’s words well… as a human, she wasn’t meant for a stallion. Grall hobbled over to her and waved a piece of paper. ‘My dad just brought me this, it’s the new ownership documents.’ He was beaming from ear to ear and his eyes shone bright as the sun as Izzy read the certificate of ownership with her name — Buttercup — and dates. So it was official: Grall was her owner. How strange that felt, Izzy thought, her whole body shaking; she was wearing a dress and yet, she was property. Her friend, on the other hand, was beside himself with joy, but he had also just received a valuable animal and hadn’t been given away like a sack of potatoes. But she couldn’t entirely blame him either, she understood by now that this certificate was also a sign of his affection for her, even if she didn’t share his enthusiasm. But at least she was no longer owned by Oozol. She had respect for the old goblin, but she couldn’t help the feeling that she was safer with Grall — despite his many stupidities. Grall would never sell her, she was sure of that. “So, where are we going?” asked Izzy to change the subject. “To Udamos. Wait. I know what you’re going to say, but it’s a good start. They’ve probably forgotten about you by now and no one from the village will meet us there. If there’s any trouble, we’ll leave immediately. I promise.” “And how do we get there?” asked Izzy uncertainly. She actually wanted to ask about the brand for Lisande too, but it seemed better if the other horse wasn’t around in case the answer was bad. ‘We’ll take a cart,’ Grall explained and Izzy noticed Lisande being harnessed to a small carriage. The mare looked uncertainly at Izzy, who could only smile back awkwardly. Sometimes things change quickly. “Don’t worry, we can always go for a ride. You miss it already, don’t you?” he said in a silly tone and she blushed, even though she knew it was just a joke. Or so she hoped. He gave her a kiss on the forehead. “If necessary, I can even ride you back. My father reminded me of a little trick.” With nimble fingers, he pulled a travelling horse bit and some straps from his pocket. “I can ride you bareback anytime with these, isn’t that great?” “What, no! No way!” hissed Izzy, who had the strangest feeling she’d seen these things before. Something at the very back of her mind screamed out loud, and she was absolutely certain that she wouldn’t just let him make her his horse anytime, anywhere — even if she was legally always his ponygirl anyway. “Don’t worry, I’ve got Lisande with me today. But hopefully, we’ll try it out soon, it’ll be fun!” he said, but Izzy just rolled her eyes. Of course, he would have fun with it, but he wouldn’t be turned from human to horse in seconds either. Goblins, Izzy thought, and snorted. The two climbed into the wagon and Grall signalled Lisande to start running. The ponygirl looked over her shoulder at Izzy once more, then trotted off. It was obvious that she was inexperienced at pulling carts, but Grall gave her enough time to slowly get used to it. “Take good care of both of them,” Oozol called after his son. He looked at them from his rocking chair. “And don’t lose Izzy again right away. A city is dangerous, keep her close to you.” Izzy guessed that the old goblin wasn’t too keen on this trip — she could see it in his eyes — but at least he wasn’t preventing it. “Bring me Lisande back safe and sound, too. I’m not giving my heart away carelessly to a ponygirl.” Lisande stamped her feet, which was probably a sign of approval. For the first few meters, Saxea accompanied the carriage on Sunshine. It was a nice feeling for Izzy to be among friends — the two goblins, but also the two ponygirls. It was a rare peace that everyone had earned; even if Grall did have that awful travelling horse bit in his pocket. Just for a moment, Izzy thought back to Bastian; she pushed the thought aside. The class had already seen her as a ponygirl, how much worse could it get? “Udamos is far away, we should hurry,” Grall said, spurring Lisande on. She sprinted off while Saxea said goodbye and disappeared into the forest with Sunshine. Izzy felt the breeze under her dress and leaned back and relaxed. It was nice not to have to do the work herself, even if the sight of Lisande’s rhythmically swaying buttocks reminded her of what it felt like to pull a cart. She knew she wouldn’t be able to run as fast in the dress, but it was a small price to pay for her freedom. The word lingered in her mind; it wasn’t easy to think about it openly while another woman had to pull the cart in front of her as an animal. She knew very well the feeling of being just a means of transport, a workhorse at the service of the goblins. And now she was benefiting from it herself. But on the other hand, it was also a pleasant day, and Grall would have used Lisande for the journey anyway. Nevertheless, she decided to buy Lisande a small gift at the end of the journey if there was enough money left over. The three of them had been travelling for hours before the city walls appeared before them. Izzy gulped as she recognised the guards: They were the same ones from her previous visit, and she didn’t like that at all. But as Grall had noted earlier, with so many people it was practically impossible for most of them to recognise anyone. The guards were more concerned with Lisande — who cost 80 thalers deposit after all — and waved the empty cart through. The town was as noisy and crowded as ever, and Grall suggested they split up; he wasn’t a big fan of shopping sprees anyway, especially not for women’s stuff, he noted with a grin. “But your father warned us,” Izzy reminded him, and Lisande nodded in agreement. “He’s overreacting as usual. Besides, you’re very strong now. One kick and all will be well. Meet me at the gate in two hours, all right?” he suggested. “If you say so. I just want to buy a new dress. Speaking of which… I forgot to bring money!” His big grin really got on Izzy’s nerves, but at least he took a wallet out of his pocket and tossed her a few coins. “You’re not allowed to have money either, it’s forbidden for a… you know… to have money. That’s my money there, and you’re buying something on my behalf.” He winked, but Izzy wrinkled her nose. ‘Yes, master,’ she said, making an exaggerated curtsy. “You’re being silly. See you in two hours.” Grall urged Lisande on again, and Izzy watched the cart go by. The other ponygirl braced herself against the weight of the cart, sweat pouring down her body. They had been so similar that night, and now their lives were so different again. She felt how unfair that was, and a slight pang of guilt rose inside her. Sure, life with Grall was better than under Kreks, but a ponygirl was still a ponygirl. As a horse, she would never wear a dress again, or be truly free. The only question was whether Izzy could be free again, or whether this was just an illusion. The city was buzzing with life, merchants everywhere selling their wares, people doing their business — sometimes in more than one way… — while humans and goblins rushed through the streets. No-one seemed to remember Izzy, but that was a silly idea really, with thousands of people wandering the streets seemingly aimlessly. On her last visit, they had probably only recognised her because they had gone back to the blacksmith in a short time. Today she had a different destination: she had learnt that there was a separate district where mainly clothes were sold. Surely, there would be a shop there with some pretty dresses? She asked for directions and soon found herself in an alleyway where one shop followed the next. The houses were tall and cast deep shadows on the broken cobblestones. The shops were busy — with humans and goblins — and Izzy browsed through them. Some, to her disappointment, only had things for goblins, others were exclusive men’s shops, others only sold hats, shoes, or handbags. She probably had little use for the latter anyway — her arms were usually hidden under a saddle, after all. But a ponygirl in a hat would certainly look funny. “Excuse me,” Izzy asked three goblins who were talking outside a shop. The first one turned round and Izzy took a step back. The goblin was filthy and glared at her. He was missing a few teeth and his clothes were full of holes. “What do you want, human?” “It’s just… oh, not that important. I just wanted to know if there were any shops for dresses around here.” “Do I look like I know?” He spat on the floor. Izzy thanked him and hurried on, but the goblins looked after her and whispered until Izzy disappeared round the next corner. Luckily for her, she found herself in a large square full of nice little restaurants. She sat down at a free table and ordered a warm tea — she hadn’t had any for weeks and it smelled fantastic. But her belly was warmed even more by the smile of a young man from the neighbouring table. “First time in town?” he asked directly, probably used to talking to strange girls. “No, but I’ve never been to this part of town before,” replied Izzy, who was very familiar with this type of young man. Confident, direct, charming, and often hideously deceitful just to get into a young woman’s panties. But she wasn’t concerned about that today, she needed contact with people, and this was an easy way. “Are you always here talking to women?” “Every day,” he said cheekily. “Most people know that I’m a no-good guy. So do you, I can see that in your eyes. But you still talk to me. My name is Jonatan.” ‘Maybe I like that today?’ she whispered, rubbing her legs together. The lack of a chastity belt left her with a few options. How long was two hours really? Jonatan stood up and walked over to her table while Izzy adjusted her dress. His eyes travelled over her body and he already had the chair opposite her in his hand when his movement froze. “You’re… I don’t want anything to do with that.” He turned on the spot and marched out of the restaurant. Izzy looked after him in surprise, then looked down at herself. Her dress had slipped down slightly and the upper part of her number was exposed. So he had recognised what she was. She jumped to her feet and pulled her dress back up, only to hurry out of the restaurant before anyone else noticed. Her heart was pounding in her chest; this was close. She had to be more careful, the city was not a friendly place. Now a little more cautious, Izzy walked down the streets, finally finding a shop that offered what she was looking for. “Huberta’s Best Dresses” promised a lot: the shop window was decorated with gorgeous dresses, pictures, and fabrics; Izzy entered the shop to the ringing of the shrill doorbell, which jolted the old dressmaker out of what must have been a rather sweet dream. She greeted Izzy in a high-pitched singing voice and beckoned her deeper into the shop. — Choosing a suitable dress took well over an hour; Izzy had lost her sense of time. She slipped from one dress to the next — careful never to let her number slip — and each one she liked better than the last. Her fringe boots went uncommented on, even though they rarely went well with the dresses. In the end, she opted for a dress with a plunging neckline that only very barely concealed her registration number. Despite the initial shock, she wanted to enjoy the day to the full, and a little skin would certainly do her no harm, she just had to be careful. She hadn’t brought a brassiere — a horse just didn’t need one any more — so she had to make sure the dress stayed in place. The rest of Grall’s money was barely enough. She thanked the shopkeeper and stepped outside with renewed courage. She had not made it five meters when the three goblins came out of the shadows and blocked her path. “Please forgive me,” said the goblin from earlier. “We were a bit rude. My name is Udexo, and these are my brothers Pikex and Qax. You wanted to know where to buy nice clothes, did I get that right?” Izzy nodded slowly, but there was something about this situation she didn’t like. Other passers-by had also stopped, but that didn’t seem to bother these three goblins in the slightest. “I’ve already bought a new dress.” “We can see that. It looks good on you. Tell me, where are you from?” “None of your business.” The goblin smiled broadly. “Something about you caught our eye. Two things, actually. This place is a magnet for all kinds of folk, and the three of us are wondering if you don’t have something to tell us.” The goblins scattered around them. “Leave me alone or I’ll scream!” “There’s no reason for that. Why don’t you be a good girl and show us your right breast?” “Like hell I will!” Izzy hissed, but the goblins jumped on her. Their skilful hands pulled down her dress, revealing the registration number and her nipple rings. “What’s going on?” a guard demanded, rushing over. Izzy looked at him frantically, but before she could say anything, one of the goblins gagged her and another tied her hands behind her back while Udexo bound her legs. “Oh, I see you’ve captured a ponygirl. Those stupid things. How do they escape so often anyway? How can they be smart enough to do that, but then come to our town, which is full of horse-catchers?” He laughed and turned around. Izzy looked after him in despair as the goblins cut the dress from her body, exposing the tax tag. Hundreds of eyes stared at Izzy as she was dragged naked and bound by her arms and legs through the city by the goblins. There was no pity in the eyes of the humans and goblins; it was disdain — the humans looked down on her and the goblins spat on her because she had escaped from her master and owner. There could be no doubt in their minds about that, why else would horse-catchers be leading her — who had the markings of a ponygirl — around the city. “Your owner will surely reward us well; you’re a magnificent animal, you’ll be worth a lot of money to him,” Udexo said greedily. “Why don’t we sell her ourselves?” grunted Pikex, and Izzy howled unhappily. “She’s not branded yet, that’ll increase her value, surely a buyer will be found quickly.” Udexo scratched his chin. “That may be true, but if the guard finds out, we’ll no longer be welcome here.” So at least they weren’t necessarily horse thieves, just horrible creatures, Izzy thought. Qax swatted her on the rump, scratching her with his claws. “She needs to run faster. Faster!” Qax said. The three of them led her down a dark alley in the worst neighbourhood of the city. Izzy had looked around for Grall on the way, but he was nowhere to be seen; no wonder, they were on the other side of town and what reason would he have to look for her here? She was led into a filthy stable and tied to a post with her back to it, then her gag was removed. “Tell us where your stable is and we’ll bring you back,” Udexo offered. “You don’t need to be afraid, horses run away all the time, I’m sure you’ll only be lightly punished for that.” “I didn’t run away!” Izzy hissed. “My… owner wanted me to be here.” Although it was the truth, the word owner still hurt. Grall had taken on that role before, but now that it was official, the echo of the words drilled deep into her soul. She was her best friend’s property, and that wasn’t just a theory; she could see in his eyes that this was of great importance to him. She was his ponygirl; his possession, like a pair of pants or the magnificent riding shirt that made him so proud. She thought briefly of Lisande and the brand; a shiver ran down her spine. Now that she was standing here, tied to the post, the whole journey as a human felt like a game that had abruptly ended. The reality of a ponygirl was back. Why did it have to be Udamos? “No goblin lets his horse wear a dress. That’s unnatural. Humans don’t give pigs hats, and we don’t give ponygirls dresses. Now tell me, where is your stable? Speak, otherwise we’ll have to ask the registry, and that costs money, which we’ll get from your master. Then he’ll be even more angry. Why don’t you have a brand anyway?” “I don’t need one, he trusts me.” The goblins laughed out loud. “That obviously worked out well.” “He wanted me to buy a dress!” Izzy stomped on as best she could with the restraints. She would have loved to kick the three of them. As if her thoughts had been read, Udexo grinned. “Don’t get your hopes up, we know how to deal with an unwilling horse. So?” Izzy sighed, she just wanted to get home. “My owner is Grall, son of Oozol. Our village is…” Udexo raised his hand and silenced her. “We know where the farm of Oozol is. Everyone knows that. We’ve brought a few ponygirls to him over the years. He doesn’t pay well. But where else would such a magnificent animal come from? Are you a broodmare?” “Are you an idiot?” “Don’t be so cheeky. You’ll have to spend some time with us.” “Grall, he’s in town. Take me to him.” “No, we’ll take you straight to the farm. More effort, more money. Besides, I think I know who Grall is. The boy is still pale behind the ears. He has no money to pay for you. We’d better speak to Oozol directly.” He went into an adjoining room and came back with a bridle and saddle. “We’ll ride you back. Then we’ll see.” As before, when she wore a different saddle, Izzy quickly realised how uncomfortable they could be. It was a blessing that Grall had a better one made for her. As much as the thought still nagged at her, she couldn’t deny that he had taken care of her in that regard. Perhaps it was more a sign of love than she had previously acknowledged. The leather of the new saddle pinched at every turn and her arms barely fitted under the seat. The bridle didn’t fit well either, it rubbed against her head and the horse’s bit was old, grey and tasted disgusting. But none of that mattered once she was out of the city. All she had to do was throw off the goblins and run home. But the three of them weren’t going to make it that easy for her. Before she had even finished thinking about it, they replaced her shackles with two new ones connected by an iron chain. It gave Izzy enough room to walk, but running was out of the question. “Don’t look so disappointed, you’re not the first horse to try to throw us off at the gates,” Udexo said, tying two leashes to her nipple rings and wrapping them around his arm. “So you don’t run away from us. They say it hurts a lot when the rings are torn out.” He took a large whip, tucked it under his armpit and led Izzy out of the stable on a lead. “You two get your own horses, meet me at the west gate.” Izzy grumbled. That wasn’t the gate where Grall would be waiting for her. These goblins stank and were nasty, but unfortunately probably not as stupid as Izzy would have liked. “Tack!” Izzy went to her knees on instinct, hating herself for it. Even this scum could easily control her like any other ponygirl. Udexo climbed into the saddle and she stood up. The feeling of a new rider was still unfamiliar to her. Whilst this hideous goblin wasn’t her first new rider after Grall, it just felt wrong to have someone other than Grall riding her. Riding created a very intimate connection between horse and rider, Izzy knew that by now from personal experience, and nothing was quite as irritating as having another greenling on her back. The weight was wrong, the movements weren’t right, the breath smelled different; everything was unfamiliar and unwelcome, but the reins and whip left her no choice. She was not an equal partner on this ride, but once again just an animal. A horse. A ponygirl in the service of a goblin, whether she liked it or not. After a quick kick, she reluctantly started moving. Now that she was dressed as a ponygirl, most people no longer paid any attention to her, only her anklet still attracted some attention. But even now, people were still disgusted by her — as if it was her own fault that she had let herself be ridden by a goblin. She had no way of knowing that in her case there was a spark of truth in this. Udexo pulled on the reins and skilfully led her through the dense crowd out to the west gate. They had to wait a while, then Pikex and Qax joined them on two for-hire ponies. The two horses looked a little older and worn, and Izzy’s stomach tightened when she noticed the blank look on their faces. “Here we go then.” He gave Izzy another kick and rode them out of town. With the short chain between her legs, little more than a slow trot was possible. “We’ll have to spend the night halfway. Boys, keep your eyes open.” The journey was particularly arduous with the chain between her legs, and Udexo didn’t spare the whip, although Izzy couldn’t help the speed. He was a restless fellow on her back, and the conversations with his friends often made her shudder. She soon realised that these three also worked as thieves — if you could call them that — and generally never missed an opportunity, however disreputable, to earn a few thalers. Above all, however, she was only being used like an animal on this ride; again, she was just a means of transport, albeit one with value in this case. This was not about her personality, her humour, her looks or what she had to say; it was only about her usefulness as a mount and her value as a merchandise; nothing more. — The sun had already disappeared deep behind the trees before Udexo steered them towards a small clearing at the side of the path. “We’ll do the rest of the route tomorrow. I hope you don’t have a problem sleeping standing up, do you?” Izzy neighed miserably. Could a human even sleep standing up? As much as goblins loved to treat humans like ponies, they usually knew very well that ponygirls weren’t real horses either. “Pony can lie down after drinking,” Qax mocked, pulling his trousers down only to pee a little at Izzy’s feet. “Thirsty?” Izzy turned away with utter disgust in her eyes. This was too much to ask, even for her, who had already experienced so many humiliations. This was a line she simply couldn’t cross. To her horror, her two companions were less shy; life as a rent horse must have brought its own challenges. The two horses got down on their knees and took what the goblins offered them, only to be allowed to lie on the ground as a reward. Izzy, on the other hand, remained tied to the tree, standing; Qax had thrown her reins over a branch and made sure Izzy couldn’t lower her head. “Grall, save me!” she pleaded unintelligibly through the horse’s bit, but it was hopeless. — The night was unpleasant. Cold wind whipped past the trees, and Izzy found it impossible to sleep standing up. Not that she felt safe enough to do so with these goblins around, but even as it was, it was dreadful. The next morning, the goblins didn’t share food or drink — at least not the kind Izzy would tolerate — with their horses, and so Izzy’s next ride began with aching bones, hunger, and thirst. Despite the slow pace, they couldn’t be far from Oozol’s farm, Izzy thought, after all they had already walked a long way yesterday; but she wasn’t sure if that was really a good thing. They were on the main road and it was only a matter of time before the first people from the village would see them. She looked around uneasily, but she heard the laughter before she saw the familiar faces at the roadside. “You were right, she really has become an animal,” Grunhilda mocked and poked Bastian in the side, who laughed along loudly, but his eyes remained strangely serious. “That’s what I told you. She ran a real race and won.” For a moment, Izzy thought she heard something like astonishment in his voice. That was impossible; why would he feel anything other than pure disgust? His eyes followed her closely. “Is that your horse? Has Grall finally sold the useless cow?” Grunhilda asked Udexo, who had been ignoring the students until now. “No, she just ran away. Horses often do that.” Udexo gave Izzy one with the whip, who neighed loudly to her own displeasure. It was an instinct, and hideously embarrassing. “I’ll bring her back, for a reward.” “Someone’s paying for her?” “Of course. She’s a valuable object.” Grunhilda gave a dirty laugh. “At least as an animal, you’re worth something.” Izzy would have loved to kick them, but unfortunately that was out of the question with her legs tied up. The unwanted onlookers accompanied them for a while, then to Izzy’s relief they parted ways. She looked after them briefly, but only Bastian turned round again. It was strange; only yesterday she had wanted to go back to humans, but now it seemed almost safer among goblins. She practically longed for her stable, where she would no longer be stared at, laughed at or regarded as a curiosity. She was a ponygirl in the stables, but that was normal there. — “What’s going on here?” asked Oozol as the three riders rode through the gate. “Where is my son?” “Oozol, my best, don’t you recognise your old friend Udexo, who has already brought you back so many horses?” Grall’s father’s eyes narrowed to a slit. “You mean the horse thief who first stole them from me and then kindly offered them to me for a reward? “If that’s the way you want to put it, maybe we’ll just take your horse with us again.” Udexo patted Izzy on the side and leaned on her shoulder. “Where your son is, we don’t know. We picked up his horse alone in the city. Anything could have happened to her there. Just imagine!” “I don’t have to, I can see it right in front of me,” Oozol murmured. “I’m warning you: If you have done anything to my son, the island isn’t big enough for you to hide.” The four eyed each other suspiciously. Luckily for Oozol, the yard was full of grooms, who slowly spread out around the square. They may be small, but for goblins they had strong arms due to the hard labour. Sunshine skirted the horse thieves and stood in front of the yard gate where she stamped her hooves threateningly; no one would leave the yard without her permission; and certainly not with Izzy. A wave of relief washed over Izzy. As many unpleasant memories as the farm brought, she could still rely on the horses — and Sunshine in particular. “Now we can talk.” “No need for trouble, I’m sure he just needs to walk.” Just at that moment, Grall came riding up on Lisande — he had obviously left the cart behind. He was as pale as night and his eyes widened when he saw Izzy. “There you are. I thought you’d run off. I searched the whole town for you, but no one knew where you were!” Izzy neighed nervously and tried to throw the goblin off her back, but Udexo cracked his whip hard and kept a firm grip on the reins. “You are Grall, I remember you. Then you own this mare?” “She’s mine, she’s my property!” said Grall sharply, and the pride in those words didn’t escape Izzy. It was a clear statement, but also something he would certainly like to shout to the whole world. “Hand her over!” Udexo laughed. “She shall be yours again, but first I want to see some money for my troubles. After all, she ran away from you in the city and we had to go to some lengths to get her here. 5,000 thalers certainly isn’t wrong, is it?” “What?” Grall almost fell out of the saddle. “Who do you think you are?” “A horse-catcher; and you’re a boy who can’t look after his pony. You may outnumber us here,’ he hurriedly counted the grooms, “but we can cause some problems too.” As if in passing, he took a knife from his pocket and cut off a strand of Izzy’s hair. “It’s only a small finder’s fee.” Grall looked at his father, but he just snorted. “That was your stupid idea, son,” said Oozol. “You’ll have to pay for it. “Wait here,” said Grall and ran into the house, from where he emerged after a while with a bag full of coins. “Thirty-five hundred thalers. That’s all I have.” Lisande joined Sunshine and looked at the horse catchers with a gloomy expression. Udexo leaned forwards out of the saddle. “Then you can have just as much of your horse. We could cut off her arms and keep them. She doesn’t need them, does she?” Izzy bristled and struck out, but the goblin would not be thrown off. “A wild animal. Someone like you can handle that? Five thousand thalers, or we have a serious problem.” “Fine, I’ll keep looking.” Grall threw the money to his father and disappeared back into the house, after which he walked the stables and even disappeared into the forest. It took him over an hour before he had collected a pile of coins, some of which still had dirt on them. “4290 thalers. That’s all I’ve got. Are we in business?” “Don’t let anyone say we’re being unreasonable.” He brought his knife to Izzy’s head to everyone’s shock. “Don’t be so nervous, I just want a trophy.” He yanked at Izzy’s mane and cut off her long hair. “That hair was terrible anyway. You need to take better care of your mare.” He tied the mane in a knot on his belt and jumped off. Then he grabbed the money. “We’ll keep an eye on your Buttercup in the future in case she escapes again.” He winked and a shiver went down Izzy’s spine. “You can keep the saddle.” “Have you learnt your lesson?” asked Oozol as they both took Izzy to the stables. “The outside world is dangerous for a wandering ponygirl. You’ve ventured too far out. A town may be anonymous, but you don’t know who you’ll meet either. I’ll send a rider to Matheus. We were both worried yesterday when you two didn’t come back.” “Why didn’t you help me? They tried to hurt Buttercup!” Oozol shook his head. “These men are rough and have bad manners, but they’re not fools. They wouldn’t have risked a fight for a few thalers, besides, they would never have left the farm with Buttercup, Sunshine and Lisande would have made sure of that. Besides, I knew exactly how much money you had. I know your hiding spots.” “Owning an animal makes you poor quickly!” Grall lowered his eyes, then led Izzy across the yard. “I was terribly afraid for you. Where’s your dress anyway?” He took the old horse bit out of Izzy’s mouth and threw it in a bin. “My old dress is in the bin and the new one — it was so beautiful — they just cut it up.” “We’ll buy you a new one. But we have to be more careful. Udamos was probably not the right place. Or…” Grall bit his tongue. “Or what?” asked Izzy sharply. “Or we can leave it at that. I know I promised you, but I’m scared for you too. What if they don’t bring you back here next time?” “You want me to be just your ponygirl?” “And my best friend. We now know what we have to do. Isn’t that enough?” Izzy shook herself. “It’s not enough for me!” She sighed exhaustedly. “Can I go into my stable?” “Later. But if we want to get back into the human world, we need a plan. With guys like these around, we need to be prepared. We’re not splitting up any more. And I need to be able to prove you’re my horse if necessary.” He took the travelling horse bit out of his pocket and Izzy snorted unhappily as he took the saddle from her. “Give it a chance. If it helps us get you walking around as a human again without danger, it’s not so bad, is it? I’m sure you’ll like it,” he said as he put the horse bit in her mouth. Izzy folded her arms behind her back of her own accord. “You know how to do that, don’t you?” he asked in surprise, but Izzy just shook her head; she didn’t know herself how she’d guessed how to ride bareback — and she didn’t want to think about it either. He climbed onto her back and slid his legs under her armpits, resting his bum on her arms. It was a strange sensation for Izzy, one she would have gladly done without. Without a saddle, he was unusually close to her, with nothing but thin fabric separating them. Over the next few hours, they both practised finding their balance as she felt him close to her skin and heard his breathing in her ear. It was a different kind of riding, and Izzy strained to think why it seemed so familiar. Soon Grall left his shirt behind as well and they both swept through the warm forest as one being. It wasn’t as bad as Izzy had feared, and yet it was humiliating in its own way. Because even if he decided to give her another day as a girl in the future, she knew he would always have something with him to make her his animal again and ride wherever he pleased. She was only one reach into his pocket away from having him on her back again, and the thought would never leave her. Was that still freedom, or just an illusion, a nice little lie they were both allowing themselves? And did she even want to go back to the humans? She had experienced nothing but ridicule and rejection from everyone except her father and the ponygirls lately. Maybe there was no way back. As she continued to run through the forest, she thought of Bastian again. That strange look in his eyes, what did it mean? A special kiss Izzy watched the morning activity on the farm thoughtfully from her stable, as she had done dozens of times before. All of this had become her new normal; she was a part of the farm, and the farm was a part of her. But there were differences, she knew — things that applied only to her, but not to any of the other horses. The chastity belt was wrapped around her groin again; Grall had promised her that he would always take it off when she was travelling as a human, but as a horse on the farm he insisted on it — and as her owner he was allowed to. She was also the only mare who was occasionally allowed to be in the stable without a horse bit, and only she was sometimes asked for her opinion. Even Lisande, who was now Oozol’s horse, would probably not enjoy these advantages. But no matter how you looked at it, she was still standing with her arms tied in a stable whose door was locked so that she could look out, but she couldn’t go anywhere without her owner’s permission. This was not a punishment, as it would have been for a prisoner, but simply practical thinking on the part of the goblins, who always wanted their property — their valuable possessions — to be precisely where it belonged. Just as you put a shoe outside the door, an unused ponygirl belonged in a stable. Even though Grall wasn’t lying when he called her his best friend, she was also his ponygirl, and for him — and for all goblins — she belonged in a stable. The separation of ponygirls and humans was apparent in this way, not to mention the other clear signs. She could still hide them, but how long would it be before there were marks that remained visible? Her way back would be blocked forever. She thought of Bastian again, and something deep in her heart tightened. That strange look… “Good morning,” Pexo fluted, snapping her out of her thoughts. “How’s your leg?” He opened the stable door and patted her on the bum, but — of course — didn’t take the horse bit out of her mouth. Instead, he ran his hands down her leg and lifted her foot to examine the joint. In fact, the pain had almost subsided by now, but she wished she could just tell him that. “That looks good. This calls for a little surprise! Close your eyes. Tack!” Izzy looked at him uncertainly, then got down on her knees and squeezed her eyes shut. She felt his rough fingers on her face and a gooey liquid that he was spreading all over it. She would have liked to see what he was doing, but she didn’t dare open her eyes for fear that something might drip into her eyes. More and more of the liquid covered her skin until Pexo was finally satisfied. She felt him drying her face with a cloth, then heard him take a few steps back on the straw, which to her deep shame was a little damp. “Open your eyes.” She blinked and stared in shock at the small hand mirror he held in front of her face, in which her brightly painted face was reflected with her eyes wide open. Pexo hadn’t left a single piece of skin untouched, and fine patterns adorned her cheeks and forehead. She swallowed. In this part of the island, it was customary for humans and goblins to paint their animals brightly once a year and parade them through the villages so that everyone could marvel at the wealth of their owners. Izzy had never liked it much. She could understand it with cows, chickens and horses, but this close to the goblin border, it was mostly half-naked women who were paraded through the villages by their owners. The pride in the goblins’ eyes when dozens of colourfully painted women followed them on a lead was etched deep in Izzy’s memory, and yet she hadn’t thought about it for a long time. Oozol was one of the few who had never joined in, though with so many ponygirls on the farm it would probably have been impractical. More importantly, Izzy had completely forgotten the date; or rather, it had lost all meaning to her. There was no calendar in a stable, and there was nothing to plan when you were an animal. Only humans and goblins did that. It was more proof of how far she had drifted away from it. “Is something wrong?” asked Grall — wearing his finest school clothes again — from the doorway, then he stopped abruptly. “No, Pexo, I wanted to ask her first!” He ran to Izzy and hurriedly took the horse bit out of her mouth. “Really? I thought it was a joke. I know she’s different from the others, but why would you ask her first?’ Pexo said uncertainly and patted Izzy lightly on the bottom again. “What’s wrong with that?” Izzy snapped at him. “It’s not the sort of thing a horse should decide,” Pexo said, and it didn’t escape Izzy’s notice that he had said it to Grall and not to her. “It’s too late now, but it looks good, you’ve got talent.” Grall took Izzy’s face in his hand and looked at Pexo’s work from all sides. “What do you say Buttercup, do you like it? It’s the best colour I could find.” Real pride resonated with his words, and again Izzy realised that as a goblin, he had such a wholly different view on such matters. For him, it must be a sign of love and devotion to see her painted in this way — after all, he would be out in public with her like this. He smiled as if he had given her precious jewellery and not had a clear sign of submission painted on her skin. Izzy grumbled and turned her head to examine the whole work in the mirror. Her lips were obscenely red, as were her ears, while her cheeks were covered in a surprisingly intricate pattern that she wouldn’t have given Pexo credit for. On her forehead, he had painted a simple version of Grall’s mark that made their connection all too clear. She hardly looked like a human in such colourful make-up; but she would certainly hardly stand out in a herd of similarly painted cows. “There’s a little celebration later, and as the winner of the race, I wanted you to be especially pretty,” Grall squeaked. He rubbed his arm and avoided her gaze, like a little boy who had given his mother a bouquet of flowers, but had briefly forgotten that you weren’t allowed to steal flowers from your neighbour’s garden even for such noble purposes. “Wash it off,” Izzy demanded brusquely. “Right now.” She stamped furiously, enjoying the little jump Grall and Pexo made at that. She might be Grall’s horse, but she was a horse that couldn’t be easily ignored. “I’ll do it myself,” said Grall and sent Pexo to fetch a bucket of water and a sponge. But no matter how hard he rubbed, the colour remained stubborn. It may have faded a little, but it was still clearly visible. “It won’t come off,” he whined. “This colour is worth the money…” “You didn’t test it first?” Izzy shouted in anger. “You…” “Is there any trouble here?” asked Oozol from the doorway. “Why aren’t you in school yet?” “The paint won’t come off!” grumbled Izzy. “And why exactly is that a problem? The colour lasts a few days, or longer. Besides, you look fantastic with it, as you should. Get on your way, I don’t want Grall to be late for class.” “I’m not going out the door like that!” shouted Izzy. “No way!” Oozol crossed his arms. “And why not? Because then everyone would think you’re a ponygirl?” His smug grin annoyed Izzy, partly because he had hit a sore spot. “It’s humiliating!” “Buttercup, it’s a tradition here, you know that. Besides, it’s a bit silly to complain about a bit of colour while your ponytail is swaying between your legs. Get going, you’re already late.” He gave her one of her favourite sweets on the flat of his hand and stroked her head. Izzy’s gaze could have lit a fire, but as always, the ponytail was too clear a sign of where she belonged. The tail was both a curse and a blessing: she loved the feeling, but it also left no doubt that it was far too late for shame. Grall hurriedly saddled Izzy and rode her at a fast gallop to the school. Mexi must have ridden ahead as the gate to her estate was open. At the school itself, unfortunately for her, Izzy was the only painted ponygirl that morning, although she guessed the others would be painted later that day. Still, it felt strange for Izzy to be particularly recognisable as an animal even amongst the other ponygirls. Albaea seemed oblivious to Izzy’s worries, always bouncing around excitedly and looking at Izzy’s colour with great curiosity; as Izzy suspected, it was her first festival of this kind — such a thing was by no means common everywhere. Sunshine, on the other hand, just grumbled. The only bright spot of the day was that Izzy soon learnt that Kreks hadn’t turned up at school today. After the defeat, he had probably switched to homeschooling for now, and Izzy wasn’t particularly unhappy about that. “You look good,” said Matheus. Grall had just taken Izzy to the stables, where her father was already waiting for her. He gave his daughter a kiss on the forehead. “Grall can paint well with his fingers, I wouldn’t have thought he was capable of that. His father is a complete failure at everything artistic. A good man and friend, but he couldn’t even draw a house if his life depended on it. He simply lacks imagination. He’s very practical, but I’m sure you’ve realised that by now.” Izzy tried to correct him, but with the horse bit in her mouth, she couldn’t. Instead, he patted her lightly on the bottom, as was customary with ponygirls. A simple gesture of comfort that didn’t require an intelligent response. “You’ll be the most beautiful ponygirl in the whole village.” He noticed her uncertain look. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be able to be human again. Your trip to Udamos was very unfortunate, but it doesn’t always have to be that way. He told me about the travelling horse bit, that’s a good idea. That way you can wander around the forest, but if necessary ride back quickly. You have to adapt a bit, life doesn’t always take the straight path; sometimes it takes twists and turns that we don’t foresee.” He still hadn’t taken the horse bit out of Izzy’s mouth, and she was beginning to suspect that he was doing it on purpose. Maybe it was just his way of making her life easier by treating her “appropriately”, but it didn’t make a real conversation any easier. She mumbled something through the horse bit and wiggled her linked arms. “Better not, Grall told me he wants to take you for a ride soon. He’s your owner now, you have to listen to him. You two are good friends, I’m sure you’ll find a way for you both to be happy with it. I trust you will.” Izzy rolled her eyes, but her father just grinned at her. “Smile for me. Just once.” She grimaced as best she could with the horse bit. “That’s good.” But Izzy grumbled again and looked over her shoulder at her bottom. Matheus was clearly skilled at interpreting the words of a ponygirl with horse bits in her mouth. “I’m sorry, my angel, but the whip is just part of it. Your mum was my everything, but every so often she was also Oozol’s ponygirl. I often saw her with a red bottom after a ride. She never complained because she knew it was normal for a horse. You’ll get used to it and maybe even miss it. Once Oozol didn’t need her for a while, I had to whip… no, let’s not go into that,” he said, and Izzy’s eyes widened. “There’ll be lots of painted ponygirls in the village today, but you’ll be the prettiest. Make Grall proud. Goblins care a lot about their ponygirls, you know that. Always remember, you are his ponygirl. And he is your rider.” Izzy neighed. “You’re right, you are different from the other ponygirls. I’ll talk to him so he doesn’t forget that. I promise. Your mum wasn’t a normal ponygirl, and neither are you. You’re special.” — “Where’s Buttercup?” Mexi’s lofty voice rang across the courtyard. Izzy lifted her head and saw the smiling goblin girl waving to her. Next to her stood an already very excited Albaea, but also Saxea with her Sunshine, who was clearly very unhappy. A couple of pots of colour stood next to both horses. Grall took Izzy out of the stable and tied her up next to the other two ponygirls, while Pexo brought Lisande. She didn’t seem too keen either, but all four ponygirls had no say in the matter — except perhaps Izzy, but Grall’s enthusiasm had already provided her with plenty of colour. Oozol was nowhere to be seen, which was no surprise to Izzy after her father’s explanation. “Who’s going first?” Mexi asked, but before Saxea could say anything, Albaea had already jumped forward and knelt in front of her owner. “I guess that means we have a volunteer.” Lisande and Sunshine rolled their eyes and both looked briefly at Izzy, who understood perfectly well that they were both lumping Izzy and Albaea together as breed ponies. Izzy couldn’t even blame them, after all she was standing in front of them with her already colourful head. “But red is mine!” Saxea said and brought Sunshine to her knees with a Zhrak. Sunshine took her time, it was almost comical how long Saxea had to wait before Sunshine was on her knees, snorting and grumbling. “Little drama queen. You’ll see, you’ll look great!” It didn’t take a mind reader to realise that Sunshine disagreed, but what difference did it make when you had a horse bit in your mouth and your hands tied behind your back, Izzy thought. After all, she herself was no different. Bit by bit, the girls spread colour on the faces of their ponygirls while Grall painted Lisande. To her surprise, he achieved an astonishingly attractive result. Soon the faces of the other ponygirls were as colourful as Izzy’s. Albaea’s skin was adorned with a filigree light-coloured pattern that alternated with dark lines and followed the natural shapes of her finely cut face. Mexi looked rightly proud of it, and Albaea was also delighted. Sunshine’s mood had not improved, partly because Saxea had turned her into a fiery red dragon. It wasn’t a very good job, but at least Sunshine would still be easy to recognise from a great distance. The mare couldn’t breathe fire, but her look was enough to scare away even the bravest knight. Lisande, on the other hand, just seemed relieved to have it over with. Her pattern was similar to Izzy’s, but with the colours and shapes of Oozol’s own mark. The three goblins looked at the ponygirls with great satisfaction. “You should colour Izzy a bit more, she won the race after all. You should celebrate that!” Mexi suggested, smiling warmly at Izzy, who only grumbled. “That’s a great idea,” said Grall, but then he noticed Izzy’s look and added hastily. “But I should lead her behind the stable first. Wait a minute!” He untied Izzy’s lead, which was attached to her breast rings, and led her behind the stable, where he hurriedly took the horse’s bit from her mouth. “Lesson learnt, I promise! This time I’ll ask you first. Will you allow it?” “No, of course not!” hissed Izzy. “The colour on my face is bad enough. Why do you want it anyway?” Grall squirmed and scuffed his feet in the dirt. “I would like to write a little message on your bottom… something for Mexi, if you know what I mean.” “I don’t know!” Izzy barked, and would have liked to cross her arms, but of course, that wasn’t possible. Not for a ponygirl. “Oh come on. Please. Please, please. Please!” he begged, prancing in front of her. It was a bit annoying, but also cute, she thought. “No!” “What do I have to do to get you to allow it?” Izzy grinned. “Tack!” He dropped to his knees in front of her. “Hey, wait a minute…!” he stammered, looking up at her from below with wide eyes. He immediately jumped up again and patted his trousers clean. “Come on, don’t be so mean.” Izzy struggled to swallow her laughter. “It’s okay, you can, but only because I like Mexi. Don’t think you’re always allowed to do that, it’s an exception!” “Thank you! You’re the best friend in the whole world!” “Tack!” He went down on his knees again, letting go of her lead. Before he could say anything, Izzy rushed back to the others, laughing, while Grall ran after her with dirty knees. — “Done!” said Grall proudly, and finally Izzy was allowed to turn around. Her whole body was adorned with splendid colours, only her breasts were painted in a single, bright yellow that made them stand out clearly from the rest of her body — even more than usual. She was a little ashamed of it, but as a horse you had to put up with it. More important, however, was the large heart emblazoned on her bum, bearing the initials of Grall and Mexi. “You’re hopeless romantic,” Mexi whispered and gave Grall an intense kiss, which visibly disgusted Saxea in particular. “Enough, or I’ll puke!” Saxea said loudly. “Mexi, that’s my brother. Eww!” But Mexi just smiled. “We’ll continue this later. Come on, let’s show the village our beautiful horses. They’ll be amazed!” Izzy neighed unhappily, but it was clear that she had no choice either. Grall dressed her in her mother’s pony boots — to calm her down a little — which once again had the hooves with the royal coat of arms nailed to them. “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry, this is normal for a ponygirl,” Grall reassured her, and strangely enough, these words did not fail to have an effect. Here, in this group, it really was normal; and normality brought stability and security. “Later, we’ll see how we can get you back into a dress, all right? Don’t think I’ve forgotten. As long as you want that, we’ll find a way.” Oozol joined them and the four goblins gave their horses a kick. It was strange for Izzy to be ridden in such a large group, but being around the other horses actually gave her some strength. She had never been a member of such an intimate and strong group as she was with these ponygirls and goblins. Before, she had been a loner whose only friend was Grall, but now everything felt so much bigger and more meaningful. Life as a ponygirl wasn’t all bad, she thought. While Grall led the way with the reins, her gaze wandered a little. The streets were crowded, but as usual, the humans kept their animals away from the goblins to avoid any trouble. Nevertheless, Izzy noticed a farmer and his daughter chasing two cows along a forest track further away from the road. He, too, must be on his way to a festival where there were certainly no goblins present. Like Izzy, the cows were brightly painted, their heads shining, and their coats painted with elaborate patterns all over their bodies. The daughter, on the other hand, wore a simple dress and gave the cows a good reason to run with her whip. Although the girl herself was quite stocky and strong, it didn’t escape Izzy’s notice that she herself now had more in common with the cows than with the young woman. Like the cows, she was a farm animal that had been controlled by someone and was now being led to the celebration, brightly painted so that everyone could marvel at her owner’s wealth. One of the cows looked over at Izzy and their eyes met; never before had Izzy looked into the eyes of a cow, and never before had she felt the thoughts of another being so clearly, even without words. Grall gave Izzy a light tap with the whip as she slowed outside the village. “You don’t need to be afraid. Get it over with and you’ll feel freer afterwards,” he said. Oozol agreed. “Sooner or later, they’ll have to accept you as a ponygirl.” That wasn’t Izzy’s problem of course, she didn’t doubt that they would accept her as a ponygirl, it was more that she didn’t know if she wanted that herself. But goblins were goblins, and thought differently to humans — or ponygirls. “I’m sure people have heard about your victory, no one will be surprised to see you under a saddle. Keep your head up, show them that you’re proud to be a horse.” That was easier said than done, yet he was quite right; her best chance was not to draw any attention to herself. She walked slowly into the village and felt the first glances on her. People turned around to look at her, whispered and pointed their fingers at her. Some even ran off to tell others about it. With every meter, there were more people on the street, obviously the gossip had faster legs than Izzy — which was a surprise in itself. Sunshine cuddled Izzy lightly to cheer her up, and Lisande did the same. As always, Albaea was overdoing it a little, but Izzy also suspected that she didn’t really understand why Izzy was so uncomfortable. Albaea was clearly enjoying the attention, but for her, life as a ponygirl was the only life she knew. But Izzy noticed one thing in particular: There was no surprise on any of their faces. So the news of her life as a ponygirl and probably her race had long been known everywhere. Instead, the faces of the humans were filled with a mixture of mockery, disgust, and a look given to someone who, through their own fault, had reached rock bottom. But maybe it was just the shock of seeing a girl from their village being ridden by a goblin. The ponygirls were usually strangers; it was easier not to see them as human, woman, or girl. Izzy, however, was well known, and yet she wore a saddle, a horse bit, a ponytail and was steered into the village with reins. The truth about the ponygirls was probably only now being fully realised by some. Izzy quickly realised something else: no matter how much attention she received, no one was coming to rescue her. It was as she had suspected; the goblins’ law was respected by all — even if it wasn’t loved. On their way, they also passed Izzy’s former classmates, Grunhilda in particular giggling loudly. “Here comes our little horse again. We’ve told everyone about you, am I right, Bastian?” Bastian nodded silently. The laughter followed Izzy, who would have loved to hide in the nearest pile of straw — but it seemed to have come straight from the stable of a horse that wasn’t quite housebroken yet. “Just ignore them,” said Oozol calmly. “They’ll soon get bored. Humans don’t understand ponygirls.” Ponygirls. Humans. Izzy sighed. There was that separation again; and hearing the certainty with which Oozol said the word ponygirl left no doubt as to where Izzy belonged. But at least the four ponygirls weren’t alone in the village. Other goblins had also brought their horses, even Kreks and his father — albeit without horses — were present. Kreks gave Izzy a dirty look, but said nothing after his father gave him a stern look. Still, it was enough to send a shiver down Izzy’s spine. The festival was already in full swing and they had to force their way through the crowd. Izzy received some compliments from the goblins, who probably didn’t just like her new colouring. Her performance in the race — despite her injured leg — received many favourable comments, as did her general appearance. Grall thanked them many times and rode Izzy to a free post far at the edge of the square, where he tied her to the nipple rings with a short lead, as was customary with horses, even if it was a particularly humiliating way to be secured. But here and now she was a horse; not just for Grall, for everyone present. The other mares were tied to another post a few meters away. But there was one difference that Grall had not forgotten, much to Izzy’s relief. She had to bend over for him briefly, then he took the horse bit out of her mouth. “Don’t look so grumpy,” he said, stroking her leg. “It’s a celebration, enjoy it!” Izzy rolled her eyes. “And how am I supposed to if you tie me up here?” He looked at her awkwardly. “I’m sorry, you know what the rules are. But you can still talk to people and you can listen to the music all the same.” Before she could object, he disappeared into the crowd with Mexi in his arms, probably to get his first beer. Saxea and Oozol had also left, leaving the four ponygirls to themselves. But that brought a new problem. While the goblins had already forgotten about them, Grunhilda headed straight for Izzy with Bastian and some other students from the school. She turned away in a hurry, but secured by the nipple rings, there was no escape. “How is our good little horse? Everything all right with you?’ Grunhilda asked with a big grin on her face before slapping Izzy hard on the ass. “No? That doesn’t surprise me. After all, your owner doesn’t trust you. Why else would you be standing here tied up and wearing a chastity belt, am I right?” There was more venom in her words than in the fangs of a snake; but above all, Izzy noticed how Bastian’s eyes wandered over her colourfully painted body to her chastity belt. Again and again and again. “Get lost and leave me alone,” Izzy threatened, almost burning red with anger, but it would certainly have been more impressive if she hadn’t been bent over and tied to a stake with a ponytail stuck deep in her bottom; another detail that got some attention from Bastian. Grunhilda grimaced. “Do you talk to your owner like that? You’re a naughty horse! Bastian, what are you staring at?” “What? Oh, I… she’s such… an animal!” “That’s right. Disgusting, isn’t it?” “Of course… disgusting!” Bastian said curtly. Izzy scuffed her hooves. She would have loved to kick Grunhilda, but she knew that wasn’t a good idea; it would bring her into conflict with humans AND goblins. But maybe, just maybe, it was worth it after all… “Look at her ass and her tits. The naughty little horse has to be punished often,’ Grunhilda continued, and the girls in particular laughed, while the boys — especially Bastian — took the opportunity to have a closer look at the situation. “She even has a registration number. At school, it was painted on, but this is real! You’re a disgrace to all of us girls. How could you degrade yourself like that and willingly turn yourself into an animal?” She took Izzy’s ponytail in her hand and gave it a quick tug. Izzy glared angrily at Grunhilda. “It wasn’t like that… you’re too stupid to get it!” “Oh, then you’re not a ponygirl? Look at me.” Grunhilda took Izzy’s head in her hands and turned her around to face her. “Go on, tell me what you are.” Izzy pressed her lips together. “Choke on it!” Izzy hissed. “Say it!” she demanded again, and Bastian slapped her ass. She felt his rough fingers on her flesh and noticed how he swallowed. His hand had left a red mark on her rump. “Say it!” “All right!” Izzy grumbled. She was used to worse beatings, but this was the first time a human had done it. It wasn’t that the pain was the problem, rather, she felt a now familiar warmth rising inside her. Bastian’s touch had awakened something in her… “I’m a… ponygirl” Her voice trembled. “Louder. Tell us everything!” “I’m a horse…” She swallowed. “A ponygirl of the goblins,” Izzy said, and they all waited for her to continue. “I belong to Grall, and he rides me.” With each word, she found it a little easier, partly because each new word distanced her further from these people who tormented her. Anything was better than being like them. It was as if a dam had broken and the truth roared down into the valley. The cards were now on the table, but the others didn’t even understand what had happened. They thought it was just a mean joke, but for Izzy, something had changed in herself. “See, that wasn’t so hard after all,” Grunhilda said, but Izzy just spat at her feet. Much to Izzy’s displeasure, her humiliation did not end there. Behind her, she heard a familiar and unwelcome voice that sent a shiver down her saddled spine. “Well, well, there’s our class horse. Saddled and tethered, waiting for its owner,” Mrs Flinchel sneered, pushing the students aside. “Normally, I only teach you at school, but here you can see what happens when you take the wrong path. Take a good look, you’d better not have to learn this lesson yourselves. You can’t sink any lower.” “Leave the horse alone,” a goblin snarled from the side. Izzy looked up and recognised Grall’s teacher, who looked strangely improper in the village in a fine suit and walking stick. “Cruelty to animals is only for people with bad morals.” “Colleague Aridos,” said Mrs Flinchel in a cold voice. “Your heart for the unloved is impressive as always. How is your class?” The goblin teacher walked with leisurely steps around Mrs Flinchel, who had to turn slowly with him. The man took his time to answer and Izzy waited anxiously for his words. Mr Aridos seemed completely relaxed, his walking stick swinging casually through the air as he looked smugly up at Mrs Flinchel from under his hat. “Surely, you remember our last little competition before the holidays…” Mr Aridos stopped, adjusted his large glasses and leaned on his walking stick; the smile had not left his face. “The tests we gave our students alike. It was a difficult test, and all the better for testing their aptitude; and ours.” Mrs Flinchel drew her eyebrows together, which only made Mr Aridos grin even wider. “In any case, the evaluation has shown a clear picture. I’m sorry to inform you that most of your students failed, while my students all passed. Interestingly, only this horse here did well in history. Maths was not her strong point, but that can be said of all your students.” Mrs Flinchel was almost boiling with anger. “To hell with you, you little monster.” “Judging by your test, neither you nor your students would find the entrance to it even if it were right behind your school. No offence, my dear colleague, but Buttercup has it better here now than at your school.” Izzy was surprised that the teacher knew her name, but Grall must have told him about her in class. She stuck her tongue out at Mrs Flinchel. “You’ve been a terrible teacher. And besides, we all knew you came to school drunk every Monday.” She didn’t know where she suddenly found the courage to say that out loud, but it was enough to make Mrs Flinchel turn pale. Her students preferred to look up at the sky. Mrs Flinchel turned around on the spot and marched off without looking back. Mr Aridos bowed slightly. “Don’t give this horse any more trouble, all right?” The students nodded, then he left Izzy alone with the others again, much to her dismay. She was still tied up as a ponygirl, the verbal thrashing for Mrs Flinchel hadn’t changed that. But the loud conversation had caught the attention of Grall, who fought his way through the crowd and came to a halt beside Izzy with his arms folded. “What’s going on here? Why are you teasing my horse?” “We were just having a friendly chat with her. But she was a bit unruly.” Grall untied Izzy from the post and turned her on the lead so that she could look towards the village square. To her horror, many people, and goblins, had already gathered there to watch the spectacle. “Let everyone hear,” Grall called out in a loud voice. “This here is Buttercup, she’s my horse. Anyone who has a problem with that is welcome to say so now, or shut up forever! But I’m warning you: anyone who causes her problems will have to deal with me!” Although she was grateful to Grall for his moral support, she would have gladly done without the increased attention. Almost all eyes in the village were on her now; most conversations had fallen silent or were only about Izzy. It was unpleasant and ignited a new rage inside her. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? The friends around Grunhilda sniggered and made new dirty jokes at Izzy’s expense; with every word and every laugh, the fire inside Izzy burned hotter and fiercer, the flames clouding her mind and driving her wildest thoughts before her like a pack of panicked animals that simply trampled down any resistance. All this fuelled a resistance in Izzy that surprised even herself. “How do we know she’s doing it voluntarily? It could be some kind of goblin trick,” shouted an old man. “If she really wants to be your ponygirl, she can just tell us, can’t she?” Grall looked eagerly at Izzy, who let her gaze wander between the humans and goblins. All eyes were on Izzy, but only in the goblins’ faces did she recognise anything like warmth or affection. There was genuine love in Grall’s eyes, while Mexi smiled kindly at her; the other goblins also showed no hatred, no rejection, no evil. Only the humans openly despised her. At that moment, she realised again how far she had strayed from life as a human. Here she was, with her hooves in the dirt, brightly painted, and a leash attached to her breast rings, leading to her best friend’s hand. None of it screamed human, but everything about it screamed ponygirl. She lifted her gaze and looked at Lisande, Sunshine and Albaea, who looked sympathetically at her. These three were the most like her, and they were ponygirls, animals in the service of the goblins. There she had her new friends, there she was normal; unlike with the humans, where she was an outcast. An abomination that was laughed at and tormented. But Izzy noticed something else as she looked around: Bastian was one of the few people looking at her with interest, almost hungrily. And she finally understood; he was genuinely interested in her. But not in Izzy, the girl, but in Buttercup, the ponygirl. She had longed for him for so long, had learnt to hate him in the meantime, but now — as a horse — he was interested in her? What a strange turn of events. Was that a sign? He avoided her gaze, but his eyes travelled over her naked body like the warm rays of a candle in the dark. Izzy swallowed, and suddenly, there was this thought; it rose from the farthest corner of a long-forgotten shadow. A memory so small and faint that it should have already vanished; but in that one moment it fought its way to the surface, driven by hatred for Grunhilda, pushing everything else — especially her common sense — aside. Something that would decide her future; ponygirl or human; free or among friends; sheltered or on her own. She felt her body drop as if of its own accord, as if the earth was calling to her or the gravity beneath her was increasing tenfold. She couldn’t have stopped it even if she’d wanted to. The pull was too strong, and her knees hit the sandy ground hard, leaving deep imprints, deeper than the tracks of her royal hooves. The sound echoed across the square. The silence that followed was overwhelming, only her heartbeat pounding thunderously in her ears. The onlookers held their breath; the humans and goblins sensed that something momentous was happening before their eyes, and no one dared to disturb it. Even Grunhilda kept quiet; Izzy looked into her eyes with a challenging, cold stare. Grall watched Izzy open-mouthed; it took him a blink of an eye before he realised what she was up to. Izzy, on the other hand, had not taken her eyes off Grunhilda, still locked on the other girl. She leant forward and only broke her gaze at the last moment… — … and kissed Grall’s feet. — The silence deepened, even the birds stopped singing. Izzy lifted her head slightly and kissed his other foot. A sandy taste lingered on her lips. Grunhilda and Bastian’s faces fell — they stood at the edge with gaping mouths and turned pale; the other humans were also shocked, some turned away in disgust. The reaction of the goblins was entirely different; they rushed to Izzy and Grall and surrounded them, laughing and celebrating. Izzy looked up at Grall, who had tears in his eyes. He bent down and kissed her on the lips. “You are now my ponygirl for all time. Tomorrow, I will give you my brand and the nose ring. Your father will be delighted. I actually wanted to give you a present, but you’ve clearly outdone me.” Only now did Izzy realise that he was holding something behind his back; she was so focused on herself and Grunhilda that she had completely forgotten the world around her. Grall opened the small, flat parcel and inside was a beautiful dress. “I ordered it for you days ago. It just arrived a little too late; otherwise we could have saved ourselves the trouble with Udamos. But you won’t need it any more. That’s behind you now. I’m giving it back. A dress would only cover your brand, and that would be a shame, wouldn’t it?” “Brand?” Izzy repeated and swallowed. In her brief moment of rebellion, she had completely forgotten the consequences that awaited her. But no one listened to her, she had made it too clear what her decision was. She looked at the other ponygirls and saw genuine surprise in Lisande and Sunshine, while Albaea — quite the sweet and exuberant mare — jumped around enthusiastically as far as her lead allowed. “It’s going to be great. They say that a brand almost magically binds a goblin and his horse. I’m sure that’s nonsense, but it’s a nice thought, don’t you think? I’ll send someone straight to your father.” “We’ll have the fires lit as soon as we return,” Oozol said, and Izzy couldn’t help but notice that the old goblin looked relieved, as if a difficult episode was finally over. “Did you hear that? This will be wonderful!” cheered Grall. Izzy swallowed again. Grall’s unbridled enthusiasm was one thing, but her future was something else entirely. Her eyes flicked round, looking for a way out. On the run Izzy’s heart was racing. “You might as well have lit the fire for the brand,” she thought, biting her tongue. Grall, on the other hand, was still beside himself with joy, but he hadn’t exactly given away his entire future either. He jumped around like a little bouncy ball and fell into the arms of anyone who didn’t dodge him fast enough. His happiness was infectious, but Izzy didn’t catch on to it, partly because he kept pointing at her bottom and making burning noises, which really annoyed her. Her friend just never knew when he was going too far. But she couldn’t and wouldn’t blame him, this was her own fault. Once again, her stupidity had set off an avalanche that was now dragging her down into the valley — whether she wanted to was no longer important. She could only wait and watch, but in this case, she knew what was waiting for her at the end of the journey: a branding iron with Grall’s mark, which he himself would press onto her arse with a broad grin so that it would proclaim for all time that she was his. To make matters worse, the goblins gave their friend a lot of good advice, which made Izzy even more nervous: “Don’t be shy, it has to smoke!”, “She’ll be a bit loud about it, but you have to keep it steady until it takes effect” and “Make sure your mark isn’t too small. She needs to feel it well, so she knows you’re her master.” Izzy grumbled. Goblins… “She’s submitted to you, now make sure she stays down,” said a goblin in dirty armour. But here, at least, Grall clearly disagreed. “No, she’s not like other ponygirls, I won’t do that!” Izzy nodded silently, but it didn’t change anything. Even as her friend, she had submitted to him, and now he was going to do what was natural for goblins in such situations. She was already his property, of course; after all, she bore his number on her bosom, which was also filed in an official register with her horse’s name, but this mark was even more personal; above all, more painful. The idea that he would press a burning metalmark into her skin with his own hands so that it would leave a scar made her stomach revolt. To make matters worse, she would soon be wearing his gold nose ring, making it impossible to hide the truth about her status. She felt slightly nauseous again. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel love for Grall, and she had to admit to herself that it felt good to show him her own affection so clearly, but the price was too high. Until now, she had had at least some hope of being able to be human occasionally, but there was nothing left of that after the kiss. Besides, she still had the taste of his feet in her mouth. She looked around; the world was divided in two. The humans stood at the back and kept as far away from Izzy as possible — their faces showed nothing but disgust and sometimes even hatred. That was unusual even for the people in this village, but no girl had ever been stupid enough to allow herself to be humiliated and domesticated voluntarily before. Allegedly, a few young men had occasionally allowed themselves to be turned into stallions, but that didn’t surprise Izzy, as it offered the men their own special appeals. Besides, they were virtually invisible to the human world later; quite unlike the ponygirls who walked half-naked through the villages every day. Undoubtedly, the kiss was just the last straw that broke the camel’s back. She raised her nose in the air rebelliously; this wasn’t all her fault after all; Grunhilda had provoked her to the brink, as she often did, and had given her the idea in the first place, but no one seemed to care. The goblins, on the other hand, still reacted completely differently; they cheered and celebrated; the voluntary devotion of a girl as a ponygirl for a goblin was considered a great honour, and it was celebrated thoroughly. It had to be a good precedent for them, one they hoped many would follow. Izzy knew by now how expensive ponygirls could be; they were beyond the reach of some goblins. The prospect of getting one for free must have seemed like a godsend. Of course, it didn’t matter to the goblins that a girl would have to give up her dreams and her freedom, they were only thinking about the benefits. Izzy couldn’t even blame them, who would refuse a gift? Apart from the remarks about the brand, the goblins were kind to her, stroking and praising her incessantly; there was hardly a spot on her that wasn’t patted, even those that made her blush. There were also all kinds of treats, which Izzy was only too happy to devour. She felt like she was at the centre of this celebration, which was slowly and steadily taking her away from life as a human. Her colourfully painted face, reflected in the windows of the houses, left no doubt about it, too. “That was wonderful,” Mexi whistled, jumping around almost as excitedly as Albaea. The playful mare kept trying to get down on her knees, but Mexi stopped her. “Don’t do that, sweetheart, you just want to copy her. That doesn’t count. Besides, you’re too immature for that.” She gave her pouting horse a little kiss and then turned to Izzy. “You’re a good horse too. Grall is very lucky you like him so much.” She stroked Izzy’s head the way Izzy used to pet dogs. It was humiliating, but at least Mexi obviously meant it nicely. Grall gave Mexi a kiss and hugged her. Over her shoulder, he gave Izzy a strange look, as if his neck was aching and his eyes were twitching. He turned Mexi round to face Izzy and kept looking at her feet. “Oh, I’m sure she likes you just as much.” Izzy breathed in heavily. So that’s what he wanted. It was almost cute how desperately he bobbed his head, but at least it wasn’t an order, she had to give him credit for that, just a plea between friends. It was a pitiful sight, how much he wanted to impress his crush, and Izzy rolled her eyes. “What could possibly happen now,” she thought, “It doesn’t get much worse than with Grall.” She smiled at Mexi, got down on her knees, looked up at the surprised girl once more and kissed both of her clean shoes. It was an impressive sight, not least because the difference in height between the two of them surpassed that of Izzy and Grall. It was like an elephant bowing to a human. Just as soon as Izzy was back on her feet, Mexi jumped around Grall, squealing and cheering. “That was so great, that was so great!” she shouted, stumbling into his arms and their lips locked. Only Albaea whinnied unhappily, as if a toy had been taken away from her. “I’ve never seen such a well-trained horse.” Izzy grumbled softly. “I bet your brand will look great.” She tapped the spot on Izzy’s bottom, and Izzy flinched under the touch. “Do you think she’d like my brand too?” Grall was clearly still in a good mood and before Izzy could object, he said, “I’m sure she’d love it.” Izzy would have liked to kick his ass, but there was plenty of time for that later. The humans still hadn’t come any closer, with one exception: a little girl had squeezed past the goblins and was looking at Izzy with wide eyes. “You’re beautiful,” the girl said, beaming. “Thank you,” Izzy stuttered after remembering that she didn’t have a horse bit in her mouth. She looked at the girl sheepishly; she wasn’t used to people thinking she was beautiful. Not as a ponygirl, and not as a woman either. “Do you like doing this?” Izzy gazed into the girl’s bright eyes, not daring to say anything bad. “You get used to it. Some of it’s quite nice,” Izzy said, unconsciously wiggling her bum. Grall smiled proudly. “When you grow up, you can be a ponygirl too,” he said, and Izzy gave him a brief evil glare. The thought of other girls following her example made her deeply nervous. She didn’t want to be a role model, especially not for this. “That’s not going to happen!” hissed a plump woman, pushing past the goblins. The goblins had nothing to oppose her mass. “Careful, greenlings, peace ends with our children. You can have that stupid girl there if you like, but keep your hands off the rest.” These words should have offended the goblins, but most of them just rolled their eyes or shrugged their shoulders. “We’ll see about that,” said a wiry goblin next to Izzy. “The young women can decide for themselves later. If we’re lucky, we’ll never have to pay for a ponygirl again.” The other goblins cheered at the idea, and it became clear to Izzy that perhaps she hadn’t just condemned herself to this fate. Grunhilda watched the spectacle open-mouthed; she hadn’t said a word since the kiss, much to Izzy’s delight. It was obvious that the shock had worked, but unfortunately that was no longer the case. The girl shook herself and, after clearing her throat loudly, exclaimed: “Disgusting! Revolting! Crazy!” She spat on the floor, but unfortunately for her, she hadn’t realised what was happening behind her. Saxea had untied Sunshine and was leading her straight past Grunhilda. Neither of them took Buttercup’s insult lightly; a quick tap on Sunshine’s bottom was all it took for the horse to give Grunhilda a shove with her wide bum. It wasn’t hard enough to get her in trouble, but it was enough for Grunhilda to lose her balance and land face first in a large pile of very heavily used straw. The girl screamed, but nobody helped her, even the humans preferred to keep their distance. Izzy laughed uproariously, and Grunhilda’s angry looks didn’t change that — in fact, it made it even funnier. Grall also grinned broadly. “How clumsy of you, dear sister.” Grunhilda wiped a brown piece of straw from her face. “That horse attacked me! That’s forbidden, I know your laws. Punish her!” Grall climbed into the saddle, put the horse bit in Izzy’s mouth, and leaned over her shoulder so that he could look down at Grunhilda. “Thank you, but we know our laws very well. No ponygirl will be punished for your little mishap. Sunshine is a good animal. You just have to be a little more careful around horses.” He turned to the other goblins and waved them over. “It stinks here, let’s go to our side of the village, the air is certainly better there. The pack of goblins ran off and Grall rode ahead on Izzy. “Hopefully, we won’t see them again so soon.” Izzy neighed in agreement, she’d had enough of humans for the moment, but unfortunately Grall didn’t make it that easy for her. They didn’t take any shortcuts, but even made a few detours so that every human could see the girl who had voluntarily submitted to a goblin. Izzy would have gladly done without it, but at least the ride wasn’t far. Grall tied her by the reins to a post at the very edge — but didn’t release her from the horse’s bit — and rejoined the other revellers; jugs of ale appeared out of nowhere, while wine, cheese, and bread were served everywhere. It was a lively party and after a short time, a small band was playing a catchy tune. The spontaneous party was in full swing and Oozol arrived a little late. Saxea, on the other hand, was still fully occupied with Sunshine, whom she had even taken the bit out of the mouth. “Please, it’s just a little thing!” she squeaked, but her horse just shook her head. “Buttercup did it too!” Sunshine visibly rolled her eyes, and Izzy understood how the other horse felt about it, but she didn’t make a sound, as a good horse should. “I command you!” Oozol laughed with a rumble. “That’s one of the few things you can’t order a ponygirl to do. She does it because she wants to, or not. You can ride a ponygirl, hit her with a whip, tie her up somewhere, and generally control her whole life -” Izzy gulped at these words “- but you can’t force it to like you. If you want Sunshine to submit to you like Buttercup, you should try to be kinder.” “Even more?” Saxea grumbled, then nodded. “Good, I’ll be even nicer to her. Then she’ll really like me!” Sunshine neighed contentedly and gave Saxea a kiss on the forehead before the horse bit went back into her mouth. “Sister, you still have a long way to go. Buttercup doesn’t just like me, she loves me,’ slurred Grall from further away, who was already far too drunk again after only a short time. The little goblins couldn’t take much. “She was my best friend, and now she’s my best horse. Sunshine is wonderful, but the bond between Buttercup and me is something special.” Saxea crossed. “Sunshine will do the same for me, you’ll see.” Behind her, Sunshine shook her head vigorously, and Izzy had to grin. Sunshine was tied next to Izzy and they both shared meaningful glances, but Izzy was busy with her own thoughts. Lisande and Albaea were also tied next to Izzy again. “One small question,” came an unfamiliar voice from the side. It was a goblin Izzy had never seen before. His clothes were as unusual as his accent, and she quickly realised that he must have come from far away in goblin land. “This horse, is it something special?” He emphasized the S in a very strange way that Izzy had never heard before, almost like he was a snake. Since Grall was already celebrating, only Saxea could answer his questions. “She’s my brother’s mare. Not as good as my Sunshine, of course, but something special. She’s a girl from the village.” “Is her pedigree known?” Saxea thought for a moment. “My father told me that her mother came from far away.” “So the hooves are no coincidence?” he asked with interest, moving to the floor to trace the royal pattern left by Izzy’s shoes with his fingers. She didn’t like it at all, something about this man made her nervous. Why was he interested in this? “An extinct noble line. Very unusual. Is she for sale?” Izzy snorted uneasily, but Saxea paid it no mind. “No, I don’t think so. But my father has many other horses. Come on, I’ll introduce you to him.” With that, the girl pulled the man along with her, who continued to look thoughtfully at the hoof prints. Again, Izzy felt like a commodity, something to be bargained for. From that standpoint, perhaps it was better if Grall gave her the ring after all. Sure, a nose ring wasn’t very pleasant, but at least then she would belong to him in a way that nobody could buy her any more. — The party turned even wilder at midday and really came to life in the evening. As the sun went down, the goblins’ spirits rose and new guests joined them. Sunshine and Izzy’s peace ended when old Hersia joined them. The goblin lady wore an old apron and yellowed jewellery in large quantities, and she had coloured the tips of her ears. Izzy had often noticed that the old woman cared little for the opinions of other goblins, but she had always been friendly to Izzy, and she often had a few sweets with her. Even now, she handed Izzy a handful of treats, which Izzy was more than happy to eat. Her sweets were still the best sweets in the village, but Izzy now wondered if they had the same effect as the ponygirl treats. “Look at you, standing here proud and gorgeous.” Hersia patted Izzy’s bare bottom lovingly and smiled warmly at her — something she didn’t do with many others. “I’ve delivered many foals over the years, but you’ve always been something special. No wonder with a mother like that.” Izzy snorted at the word “foal”, but old Hersia just giggled. “It’s the truth! You were a little foal, so cute and full of potential. Luckily, you ended up under a saddle, as you should have; it’s in your blood. Don’t look so harshly, you were born the daughter of a ponygirl, so of course you were a ponygirl from birth. The line is passed on through the mother!” Izzy raised her eyebrows in astonishment. She had actually heard that before, but had never thought that it applied to her, after all, her father wasn’t a stallion, but a normal man. She shook her head vigorously. “You probably think this old woman in front of you is out of her depth, but you’re wrong, as everyone is! Your father doesn’t matter, neither do the ponyboys. It’s always about the mother. No, no, you’ve always been a ponygirl, but it just took you a little longer to realise it.” Hersia winked, giving Izzy time to process this news before she continued. “Luckily for you, Grall is a few days older than you. You can’t imagine how happy Oozol was when he was able to gift his son his very own ponygirl so soon after birth. You were officially registered on the same day, as is customary for all foals, with Grall’s birthday as your number.” Izzy took a step back in horror, only the reins holding her in place. She gave a startled neigh. No words were needed for Hersia to understand her thoughts, Izzy’s eyes shouted them out to the world. “It was your destiny, or did you think a man like Oozol would pass up an animal like you? How well do you know him anyway? But your father was stubborn; brought stupid new ideas to this village. He wanted you to live as a human first and then make up your mind. He insisted that no one should know about the registration, not even Oozol’s own son; what a waste of time, hopefully he has realised that by now. A horse like you will always long for the saddle.” Izzy was only half-listening, her mind was racing. Why hadn’t anyone told her? Not even now? Had Grall really not known? Was it all just a game for Oozol to make her what she already officially was? But then was the emergency registration also just an excuse for Izzy to accept something that was already a reality? Everything around her was spinning, but Hersia kept talking. “Most people think I’m cranky, but take it from an old woman: always live your life the way you want to. Don’t listen to anyone and don’t bow to anyone.” Those were terribly silly words to say to a ponygirl, but Hersia didn’t seem to notice. “I would have told you all this much sooner, but I had to promise not to at the time. And I know when to keep my mouth shut. Still, hopefully my sweets have helped you on your way. You always loved eating them, just like a good horse should. If I’m lucky, I’ll deliver your foals too. I hear you’re not opposed to Oozol’s stallion Titan.” The old woman gave the rigid Izzy a pat on the butt and marched off. Sunshine neighed and cuddled Izzy for comfort, but she was completely detached from the world. So she really was born to be a ponygirl; she had always been Oozol’s property. Everything else was just an illusion — and if she didn’t do something about it, Grall would very soon press his brand into her skin. Izzy swallowed. The following conversation with the other horses was unpleasant for Izzy. Not that it took many words to have this discussion — and with the horse bits in their mouths, no real talking was possible anyway — but even so, Izzy clearly saw in the eyes of Lisande and Sunshine what they thought of the development. Betrayal was written all over their faces. If Grall and Oozol were lucky, they would only spit in their faces, but Izzy wasn’t sure about that. She had some trouble calming the other two mares, while Albaea just howled under the angry snorting of the other horses. She was probably not used to so much upset. But Izzy was grateful to the two mares, at least she didn’t have to feel this betrayal alone. A deep sting went through her heart. Oozol and her father had kept the truth from her all this time; and even if Grall hadn’t known, it felt like the last few weeks had been built on a big stinking pile of lies. She had never been free. Not when she took her first steps. Not when she drew her first scratchy letters at school. Not when she sat on the grass one summer and watched Bastian bathing and realised what the difference was between a boy and a girl. And certainly not when Grall had put a saddle on her back for the first time. So even then she had been his horse, legally speaking. His date of birth was listed in the register as her number from the day she was born. Lisande and Sunshine stamped their feet angrily, and Izzy did the same. Until now, she had only thought about running away because she feared the brand. But now it seemed madness not to. But she was also well secured as a ponygirl. She needed a way to escape, but there was nothing to be seen far and wide. No goblin would help her. Albaea’s eyes were still wet, and Izzy would have loved to comfort her, even though technically, it was her pain. But the mare was so affectionate that Izzy would have happily hugged her. But now she had to think of herself first and find a way out. — The party was still in full swing, and Izzy continued to search for a way out. If she didn’t find one, she would soon feel the burning kiss of the brand and be trapped forever in the yard of the traitor Oozol. As important as Grall was to her, she simply could not allow that! Her eyes jerked around, travelling from the celebrating goblins, over the thatched roofs, a few old carts, Bastian, a pile of dirty straw and… her gaze darted back. Bastian? She hurriedly turned away and only watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was crouching half hidden behind the edge of a house, staring at her; it was that strange look again, the one she had seen when she was racing. But by now she had an idea why he was looking at her like that. It was lust; desire; his thirst for her body. And his own disgust about it. But maybe, just maybe, she could make something of this. The other ponies hadn’t noticed him and Izzy slowly turned her butt towards him. She knew the effect she had on stallions by now, and maybe it would work on Bastian too. Slowly, no faster than absolutely necessary, she circled her wide bottom and formed a lying eight with it. Lisande looked at her confused, but Izzy was unfazed. She sped up a little and the ponytail, whose plug was still deep in her bum, swung slowly with her. She bent forwards a little and her breasts sagged slightly. She dared to look over her shoulder, but Bastian was gone. Her heart froze, and for a moment, this rejection hurt her almost more than the betrayal of Oozol and her father; but only almost. She was about to stand up when she felt a warm hand on her bottom. It was Bastian! He must have been running around the houses like a wild stallion, his breath was coming fast and he was red in the face. He didn’t say anything, but his surprisingly soft but strong hands travelled along her bottom, following the natural contours, and his fingers slid over the cold metal between her legs. Or it should have been cold, but Izzy herself heated it with her burning body. She neighed softly, bringing Bastian out of his own trance. He swallowed. “You… look good… as a horse, I mean.” They were the first truly kind words he’d ever said to her, but right now, Izzy had no ear for them. What he could do for her was more important. She pressed herself against him and one of his hands went to her breast, where he grabbed it without thinking. Sunshine neighed unhappily, but Izzy silenced her with a growl. On any other day, Izzy would have been in heaven, but today she had a goal to achieve, and Bastian was her tool. She looked deep into his eyes, neighed and tried to make him realise that he had to take the horse bit out of her mouth. It wasn’t easy to make him understand that, and with the goblins nearby there wasn’t much time. Still, it took him a while to explore enough of her body to understand what she wanted. And unfortunately for her, he was terribly clumsy at removing a bit — he clearly had no experience with ponygirls. “Thank you,” Izzy said and as soon as she had said it, he took a step back as if he had awoken from a dream and now realised that she wasn’t a thing, but a person. This was either good or bad for Izzy, but she had to act fast. “Come back here, it’s cold without you.” That was a lie, of course — summer wasn’t over yet, and Izzy was used to being naked by now — but Bastian was only too happy to accept the invitation. It was strange how awkward he suddenly seemed; Izzy had always thought he was a model of masculinity. But he had probably always been like that, but now she saw him as he was, without any flirtation or rose-coloured glasses. “If you untie me, we can go into the woods and… you know… have some fun.” Albaea gave a startled yelp, but Izzy and Bastian ignored it. “I can’t do that, you’re an animal of the goblins,” Bastian said, swallowing as if the thought excited him even more. She couldn’t blame him, it was the same reason Titan was so interesting to her. “You’ll take me back, won’t you?” she said and winked. But their private time was over. “What are you doing?” shouted a goblin from the feast. “Boy, if you disturb the horses, you’re going to get into a lot of trouble.” Bastian straightened up, but before he left, he quickly untied Izzy’s reins. He nodded to her and ran into the forest. Izzy’s heart was pounding. If the goblin came to check on her, he would surely tie her up again, but luckily for her, he didn’t. She waited briefly, gave the three mares a final glance, then ran off. Behind her, she heard Albaea getting restless, but Sunshine seemed to take care of it. Strangely, neither Sunshine nor Lisande had tried to come with her. Perhaps it was for the best; those two would be pursued no matter what, but whether they did the same with Izzy wasn’t entirely certain. She hoped Grall would leave it at that, but with Oozol anything was possible. Her hands were still secured under the saddle, she was a mount after all, but she didn’t have to walk long to see Bastian behind the first row of trees. He greeted her with his hands on her bosom. She almost melted on the spot for him, but she had to be strong. “Untie me. Please,” she had to command him, otherwise he would probably have taken her as a mare right there and then. She could see from the mark on his trousers how excited he was. He awkwardly took the saddle off her and untied her arms. Izzy looked back to the party one last time — she saw Grall, still laughing and telling everyone about a fantastic future that would never come; to her three friends who couldn’t share her freedom; and Oozol, who she thought could burn to a crisp in hell. Before Bastian could touch her again, Izzy sprinted off. She didn’t even look back at him. Her legs pounded over the loose forest floor, carrying her deep into the woods at lightning speed, far away from the goblins and anything connected to them. All she had to do was put enough distance between herself and the goblins and all would be well. The big cities weren’t safe, like all areas on the border; the experience with the horse catchers was still ingrained in her bones, and she didn’t want to repeat that mistake. But deep in the land of men, there had to be places where she was safe. Somewhere she would be given shelter, she just had to walk far enough. But as so often happened when Izzy had a goal, she missed it. Her poor sense of direction played a trick on her again and made her run in the wrong direction; her fast gallop took her deeper into the realm of the goblins with every step — still with a registration number on her bosom, a ponytail in her bottom and colourful paint on her body that made her easy to spot even in the dark. But something else escaped her notice: not all the goblins had lost sight of her. Two small eyes peered through the forest; they followed her shadow between the trees until the distance became too great, then the watcher began the pursuit. — Her legs carried her through the dense forest for hours without a break. She travelled far from the roads, careful not to run into any humans — and especially not goblins. While she had no fixed destination, or even an idea of how far she had to travel to a safe place, she would not stop until she had left all the goblins behind her. The sting of betrayal was still deep in her flesh, but it also gave her a renewed vigour that propelled her forward. Moreover, she had the energy of a mount used to long rides — the irony did not escape her, but for the first time it was to her own benefit. The sun had long since disappeared behind the treetops and the forest was dark and menacing; the shadows of the trees hid the roots and other dangers that lurked on the ground. Without Grall, she lacked good eyesight at night, so she had to rely entirely on her own intuition. Still, she didn’t allow herself a break; if Oozol tried to catch her again, the goblins’ sight would give them an advantage, and speed was her only chance. It was only at that moment that Izzy realised that the goblins would probably question her friends; hopefully they wouldn’t punish them if they kept quiet. Surely, they had noticed her absence by now. Grall might be gullible enough to wait a few days for her return, but Oozol would gather a party of hunters before the village was fully searched. But even if the night gave the goblins an advantage, at least she had fewer people — humans the goblins — to avoid in the dark. The greenlings also preferred to stay indoors at night. This meant Izzy made good progress unseen, but a faint light in the distance attracted her almost magically. It was the flickering of an old lantern, swaying back and forth in the wind on a pole next to a house. The courtyard was quiet and everything was already asleep, with only the lantern to show that there was any life here at all. Still, this was no place for a brightly painted runaway ponygirl to show herself, but something about this yard called to Izzy. Something that made her stomach grumble. She bit her tongue and sighed softly. The thought of spending the next few days or weeks without one of the treats made her hands tremble — the goblins undeniably knew how to control a ponygirl after all, Izzy thought bitterly. Despite the danger, she approached the yard and looked around cautiously. Sure enough, there was a stable for horses, and a small, promising sack hung at the side. She crept over, reached into the bag and popped a few of the treats into her mouth, which immediately melted and spread their wonderful broad flavour across her mouth. Her hand wandered back to the bag, but a voice stopped her. “Hilia, have you escaped from the stable again? Wait, you’re not my horse. Where did you come from? Stop, you can’t just wander around here!” The old goblin farmer waved a pitchfork around, but Izzy only had eyes for the sack she had to leave behind. She briefly wondered if she was too fast for the goblin, but then changed her mind and disappeared into the night. She spent the next few hours wondering how she could have taken such a stupid risk when her legs finally gave way without strength. She braced herself and slid exhausted down a tree trunk. Her breathing was rapid and her heart drummed wildly in her chest. “This will have to do,” she whispered to herself. A deep darkness engulfed her, swallowing the world a few metres away from her. Her heartbeat calmed down, but a new shock drove it up again: in her exhaustion, she had forgotten the direction! “Crap!” she grumbled, but it was too late now. She would have to decide on a new direction in the morning, which would hopefully lead her to safety. She yawned loudly and leant back against the tree trunk, even a ponygirl needed rest. She was just about to lie down when she heard a crack behind her. Before she could react, something was pulled over her and a strange odour hit her nose; her eyes went black. — “Where did you find her?” an unfamiliar voice asked. Izzy woke up slowly; she felt a cold stone floor beneath her and it was dark around her, with only a few rays of light filtering through the tight sack that had been placed over her head. Her hands were bound tightly again and her legs were also tied. Her mouth was still free, but she didn’t dare make a sound. Her captors probably thought she was asleep, so she listened closely. “It would be so much easier if all humans were already domesticated. It’s a shame that our God gave them to us, but we still have so much trouble with them. If I could, I would force them all into my stable.” The voice was foreign to her, perhaps it was a hunter from Oozol. “She’s officially registered, what should I do with her?” “Don’t play dumb. Look at her, she’s something special.” Izzy had to fight hard not to tremble. She knew that voice; his unconventional emphasis on “special” had given him away. It was the goblin who had inquired about her at the party. “Surely, there will be someone who has a use for such a noble pony.” It was only with great difficulty that she managed to lie still. The floor was cold and the room smelled of old manure and dirt. It was a strange feeling, knowing that you had been caught. Had Sunshine and Lisande felt the same way when they had first lain bound at the feet of their new masters? Helpless, hopeless, afraid they would never see their friends and family again? Of course, Izzy had run away herself, but now there was something final about it; if they really were horse thieves, there was probably no going back. “So its owner would take me to prison? Where did you steal her?” The other goblin spat audibly on the ground. “Stole them? What do you take me for?” “A thief, like you are.” “Good, fine by me.” The thief laughed dirty. “But it’s different here. I found her in the forest, she ran away from her owner. Believe me, that’s far away, he won’t come. Besides, she’s valuable, look at her hooves, watch out for the symbol! Surely, her owner doesn’t even know our town, you won’t have any problems.” The other goblin’s heavy breathing told Izzy that he was thinking seriously about this. “What if there’s a finder’s fee?” “Then you’re in luck. Give me my money and you can find out. That’s your risk. Otherwise, I’ll go to Fezon, he’ll pay for her.” “Like hell you will! All right; it’s a deal. She’s mine.” Izzy heard a bag of coins being passed around. So now it had happened after all; someone had paid for her. She had become a commodity, an object defined only by its value through its utility. They put a collar on her and woke her up with a kick. “Get up, we know you’re awake.” She stood up on wobbly legs, but the sack remained over her head. “You’re sure no one will come for her?” “Absolutely. She was alone. I followed her on my horse. Luckily, I knew a local farmer who lent me a cart and a helping hand before she woke up. She was heavy and it took a long time. Even if someone was looking for her, why would they come here of all places?” Her buyer led Izzy by the collar with small steps out of the room and into the sun — she could feel the warming rays on her skin — and tied her up somewhere, then took the bag off her head. The bright light blinded her and she had to squint for a while until her eyes had adjusted. She was standing in front of an old stable on a farm that had seen better days. She shook herself at the sight, it was one of the moments when she really appreciated life on Oozol’s farm. As much as she didn’t really want to be there, it was one of the best places a ponygirl could wish for — even if the owner was a treacherous monster. But this was the opposite. The goblin next to her was barely younger than the buildings, but something in his look told Izzy that he wasn’t joking; the whip in his hand made that clear, too. Her gaze followed the lead on her collar, it ended at the saddle of a tall ponygirl that towered over Izzy. “Don’t make trouble, I have no patience for difficult animals. You will feel my whip immediately if you don’t do as I ask. Understood?” Izzy nodded, intimidated. “I’m going to free your legs now. Don’t make any quick moves or Rainbow will break your legs.” The ponygirl in front of Izzy pawed her hooves, there was something dangerous in her gaze. Izzy obeyed — she remembered well how her hooves crushed the wolf’s head. No doubt Rainbow would be able to break her leg with one kick of her heavy hoofed boots. After freeing her legs, the goblin climbed into the saddle of his ponygirl and spurred her on. Izzy had no choice but to follow the two of them. She looked back once more and gulped at the sight of the hoof prints with the royal mark that could now be her downfall. The journey took them back out into the forest, but now they were following a narrow path that wound its way between the trees. She kept looking around, but there was no sign of rescue. Even if Grall was looking for her, how on earth was he supposed to find her here? She had run too far — straight to her doom. “Not so slow,” the goblin told her off. “If I see the leash tightened again, you’ll feel the whip.” Izzy whinnied and walked closer behind his ponygirl, who had a few deep scars on her rump herself; her obedience was probably not entirely voluntary, but in the end it made no difference to Izzy. As long as the sturdy horse obeyed him, she too was at his mercy. They travelled all day and only stopped in the evening. “Are you thirsty?” the goblin asked, but Izzy hurriedly declined — she remembered the ride with the horse catchers only too well. The goblin looked at her, shaking his head, then took a drinking tube from his ponygirl’s saddle and shared the water with his horse. Izzy grumbled, but after that, he didn’t offer it to her again for the night. — Their journey took three whole days before a large valley opened up in front of them. It was an impressive sight and Izzy sensed that they were close to their destination. She was exhausted, smelly and her legs were burning, but she wasn’t looking forward to her destination one bit. In the centre of the valley lay wide fields of crops and wildflowers, with a small town looming in the middle, crouching almost fearfully behind a high wall. Izzy had no idea what this town was called, or where they were, but it didn’t matter, she would only get out of here as a horse with a rider anyway, she was sure of it. The goblin led his horse at a gallop down the path and past numerous other goblins and ponygirls, but there were no other humans to be seen. You had green skin, or a goblin on your back, there was nothing else. So it was as Izzy had feared: she had walked deep into goblin country, from where she would never return. Her damn sense of direction! Just once, it could have done her a favour and not led her straight to her demise. The journey ended near an old farm just outside the city gates. The houses formed a wall around a hidden courtyard, and even the heavy gate was guarded. Words were written in goblin script above the entrance, but Izzy couldn’t read them. The gate closed behind her with a loud rumble and it was clear that it would not open again for her any time soon. “Durix, what are you bringing me?” asked another goblin, his face scarred and missing an eye. So that was the name of her new master, Durix. “A stupid name, for a stupid man,” she thought, but it wasn’t that simple, as she quickly realised. “Greetings, Pelkor. I want to sell this horse behind me at the auction. Look at her, she’ll bring us good money.” Pelkor leaned to the side and looked past Durix. “It has a registration number. That’s a dangerous piece of merchandise you’re bringing me. But it looks good, I’m sure it will fetch a tidy sum. Still, the risk is high, I’m asking for 50% of the profits.” Durix jumped up in his saddle so violently that his ponygirl was startled and took a step forwards. The lead tightened and Izzy almost fell. “No way! Cutthroats. Criminal! You’ll usually only take 30%, and that’s already too much.” “Then get lost. Why don’t you take her and stick her where the sun doesn’t shine?” “You’re an asshole, Pelkor. 35% and no more, otherwise you’ll feel my whip.” Pelkor laughed. “45%, my last offer, or I’ll have you drowned in the river.” Izzy listened in disgust as these men haggled. It was vile, especially since it was about her! They wanted to sell her on. She should be disgusted by this, but Durix was so awful that it could only get better. Her new — albeit probably only short-term — owner spat on the floor. “40%. That way or nothing.” “Good, 40%. So you’ve come to your senses after all.” He waved two helpers over. “Take the pony to the stable, give it the number 16. She’ll be a surprise at the auction tomorrow. We rarely have such a beautiful animal here, they’ll be amazed.” “Look at her hooves, she has a royal mark.” “Anyone can do that, the house no longer exists, nobody will complain.” “No, it must be something else. Look at her, she’s not a normal animal. I’ve seen this breeding line before, she matches the mark.” “You see what you want to see. They all died in the war.” “We don’t know that. Let the buyers decide. But tell them about it. It’ll drive the price up.” Izzy swallowed. That was not good. Not good at all. Her bloodline had already brought her under the saddle, would it now condemn her to life as some foreign goblin’s dumb animal? But today she was too weak to fight it. “Alright, that’s what we’ll do,” Pelkor said. He took another goblin aside while Izzy was untied from Durix’s pony. “You go into town and see our usual bidders. Tell them to bring some more thalers, there’s a good reason. Tell them there’s a particularly royal pony on offer. A little excitement will increase their interest. It’s all for business, my son. Now go!” The son studied Izzy briefly, then disappeared from the yard. Izzy’s next stop was the stable, where she was first given food and water — both of which tasted awful, but that was probably all that could be expected in a place like this — and then quickly washed so that at least the worst of the dirt was off. No one spoke to her, but she was used to that with normal goblins — none of them even thought it might be worth talking to a horse. Maybe it was easier for the goblins that way, Izzy thought, to make a girl their animal if they ignored its intelligence. Goblins weren’t without morals, but something had to allow them to treat a human like this without tripping over their own values to land face-first in the obvious injustice. The stable itself was cramped and stuffy. The fifteen other ponygirls were standing close together and didn’t look enthusiastic when another one was brought into the stable with them. They were all older than Izzy and some of them made her wonder what use they were as horses at all. Many looked weak and tired, scarred from a long life under saddles and with horse bites in their mouths. Izzy understood why Pelkor was so interested in her — she had nothing in common with these poor creatures, except that they were all ponygirls. But she herself was in the prime of her life, while the others had already lived a lifetime as animals. Izzy hardly dared to look at the others. Was this her future too? Would she be back in a stable like this in many years’ time, after she was no longer of any use to her owner? For sale to… to whom? She knew rumours of what some goblins did with old ponygirls, but she pushed the thought aside. She found a quiet corner and waited anxiously to see what the new day would bring. A falling friend With a heavy crack of the whip, the goblin drove Izzy up the stairs to the grandstand. The rotten wood creaked with each step like the wailing of the many ponygirls who had already travelled this path. She followed the goblin’s reins until he stopped her right in the centre of the platform. The eyes of dozens of goblins were fixed on her; most of them scrutinised her with interest, as one would a piece of livestock — and she had to admit that in this case that applied to her — while others hid their faces under hoods. It was probably not a place you wanted to be seen in; horse theft and dealing with stolen goods was undoubtedly a serious crime. As Izzy had expected, all the goblins were men; it was common among the goblins to keep women out of the horse trade — probably one of the reasons, apart from their beliefs, why the goblins preferred to ride women, they just liked it that way. Perhaps a human male reminded them too much of themselves. Of course, they also feared the strength and ferocity of human men, Izzy thought, there were good reasons why Titan was so well secured at Oozol farm, but that left the hard lot of the mounts to the human women. “Number 16, a horse from the forest. She’s registered, but I’m sure that won’t bother anyone here,” said the auctioneer, and the crowd laughed. “She was given to us from a good source. Her origin remains a mystery, but as you can all see, she is a magnificent animal. She is healthy, young and strongly built, with a powerful body suitable for any task: be it riding or working. A noble animal, no doubt from good breeding.” Izzy blushed as the interest in her increased. Most of them came a little closer to the stage to see more of her. Their gazes literally undressed her, had she not already been naked. But those eyes were piercing through her flesh just to judge whether she was worth the money. “Really magnificent,” said an old goblin right by the stand, scratching his chin. “She reminds me a little of a horse I saw many years ago in the king’s stables in the neighbouring kingdom. What was she called…” The old man stared into the distance, then a light seemed to dawn on him. “Of course, the prince’s gorgeous mare, Buttercup! I wonder if she’s one of her foals. Her stature and facial features are practically identical. I never forget a good horse.” Izzy’s heart almost broke at the mention of her mother; why did he have to mention this now, but to make matters worse, the interest of potential buyers increased. “Are you sure? The prince was killed, wasn’t his horse murdered with him?” “I wasn’t there, but as far as I know, the horse was never found.” The auctioneer had listened carefully and looked extremely satisfied. “There are real connoisseurs here. It was presented to us with hooves of the royal mark of the old house.” “Anyone can nail them to a horse,” grumbled another goblin, but a hooded goblin brushed him aside harshly. The new goblin didn’t say a word, but he held up a gold coin like the ones Izzy had seen before. It showed her mother and the prince, and Izzy already knew the resemblance was undeniable. “They really are like sisters. Or mother and daughter,” said the auctioneer after he too had studied the gold coin. “Who wouldn’t want to buy the foal of a princess mare? But that’s not her only advantage. Come closer and take a good look at her. Tack!” Izzy only went to her knees after a hard blow with the flat of his hand. His ring scratched her skin and she yelped. “Their udders are large and full, they will give you plenty of milk if you want it. Human milk is healthy and nutritious. But she can also feed many foals. Look at her wide hips too. Perfect for any saddle, but also giving birth, she will throw you foal after foal and make the buyer rich and respected. Find the right stallion and you’ll be drowning in royal horses!” Izzy shuddered. The possibility of being mated against her will was not new to her, but so far, it had only been a theoretical danger, but now it seemed terribly real. Not that she disliked men, she still got warm just thinking about Titan, but there she had some choice. But not here. “Look how much she likes that idea,” the auctioneer mocked, grabbing Izzy’s stiff nipples and her wet crotch. “I’m sure you don’t even have to tie her down, she’d just bend over for him herself.” Izzy lowered her eyes, what more insults did she have to endure? Was there no hole in this world where she could hide? To these goblins, she was just an animal that could be mated to throw them children to sell. What a terrible idea; and yet maybe it was her future. And to make matters worse, the goblin was right, as much as it shamed her, it also excited her. Her thoughts flitted to Titan, and the short time in his stables; it was enough to make her blush. “She probably hasn’t had any foals yet either, surely, yours will be the first.” He lifted Izzy’s head up by the chin and looked her in the eye, and Izzy shook her head to the cheers of the crowd. “There you see it. Open your mouth.” After a crack of the whip, she obeyed, and the goblin stepped aside. “This animal has healthy teeth, and as I’m sure you can see in the front row, her back teeth have already been removed, so she can wear a horse bit permanently.” Izzy closed her eyes and tried to just endure all this humiliation, but whenever she thought it couldn’t get any worse, the auctioneer found a new humiliation. “Turn round and bend over,” he ordered, and lashed out before she could hesitate. She yelped and turned her bottom to face the spectators. Her trembling didn’t seem to bother anyone, especially not when she slowly bent over to present her most private parts to the goblins. For the first time, she wished she had her chastity belt back. She had so often disliked the metal, but now the protection would have been even more welcome. “She’s already used to ponytails, even the biggest ones will suit her. Just how well it fits.” The auctioneer grabbed the hair of her tail and pulled. Izzy moaned, the large plug sucking at her insides, but her ass held it with an iron grip. The goblin yanked on it with all his might, but the plug stayed in her bottom. “Impressive, isn’t it? I’m sure your stallions will have fun with it.” He winked and Izzy would have liked to put her hands over her ears, but as usual, they were tied behind her back. The crowd whistled and clapped; there was no doubt that these men knew what he meant. “She seems to like it,” shouted someone from the crowd. “I’m sure she does,” the auctioneer confirmed, running his finger between her moist lips directed at the crowd. Izzy shuddered, and to her misfortune, she pressed herself against him. “Don’t be so hasty, big girl. I’m sure your new master will get you a stallion for this.” He addressed the crowd again. “As you can see, she’s an obedient animal, all she needs is a little encouragement. Certainly, not a sign of resistance, more of low intelligence. But who needs a clever horse, am I right?” People sniggered, and Izzy hated it. Did these people think ponygirls were stupid? Only someone who didn’t know them could believe that — but that was probably the problem. Grall and Oozol knew about the ponygirls’ intelligence — but they still used them for their own purposes, but maybe here it was different. Anyone who never talked to a ponygirl could quickly believe that they really were just dumb animals. “Would anyone like to examine the animal more closely? Only seriously interested buyers, please!” A goblin in the front row raised his hand and came onto the stage. “Beautiful beast, big and noble. Could it actually be from noble stock?” He examined Izzy closely, who still knelt. He felt her breasts — more intensely than was really necessary — and looked into her mouth. When he’d finished, he went to her other end and, to her shock, stuck two fingers in her; one in front, one behind, and slowly pulled them out, then pushed them in again. “She’s responding well. I have a dozen stallions I loan out for breeding, but a mare on the farm might bring some calm. The stallions are too aggressive, but with a mare like that in the stable, they’d be able to let off steam more often. If the price is right.” Izzy barely listened to the words, her whole world consisted of his fingers, and the shame she felt at how much she enjoyed his touch, pressing against him in rhythm. “When can we bid for her?” The auctioneer looked down at her with great satisfaction and casually tucked the whip under his arm. “Right away. Please climb down and we’ll start right away.” The bidder wiped his fingers clean, and Izzy had to stand back up. Most of the goblins had dirty grins on their faces, but some just seemed to look at it with an almost business-like indifference. They had probably, Izzy thought, watched many horses being mated before, so this wasn’t new to them here. “Turn round again for your audience,” he ordered, and Izzy turned slowly on the spot. It was awful, everything about her was being ogled and rated. She was just a commodity for sale, not a human being; above all, she was not their equal. She was just an animal, something useful with which these men wanted to make money. “We’ll start with the first bid. Who offers 5,000 thalers for this magnificent animal that will undoubtedly make the buyer rich. Remember, it comes from the stables of a prince. You won’t find anything this special for sale anywhere else.” “My stallions don’t care,” the goblin from earlier remarked; his fingers were still a little shiny. Nevertheless, he raised his hand. “If I buy her, I’ll name her Oxolia, after my ex-wife. At least one with that name who will listen to me.” “And the only one who will squeal with joy! Or why did she leave you?” another goblin quipped, almost starting a brawl. Izzy, on the other hand, was still shocked. Now they even wanted to take her name — or rather, the name Grall had given her. She had hated it at first, but that was before she knew it was her mother’s name. It was one of the few connections to her, and now even that was in danger. But as always, no one asked her for her opinion, and once she was sold, that would probably never happen again. Not since she had become a ponygirl had she ever missed Grall as much as she did at that moment. If she were to be a ponygirl, then only for him! Not even Oozol could change that. But now this was probably not her future. “Excellent. We’ll increase the bids in increments of 1000. We’ll start with 5000 thalers, who’ll bid 5000 thalers?” The figure in the dark cloak, still clutching the gold coin, raised his hand. “”5000 was bid.” More hands quickly shot into the air and Izzy’s eyes widened in amazement as the numbers poured in: 6000, 10000, 15000, 20000, 30000, 40000… The crowd was unstoppable, even the auctioneer was surprised. “We’ve already reached the highest bids ever at these auctions, but I see an even greater hunger among you. Whether a mount or a broodmare, this horse will serve you well. Or should she share your bed?” The crowd booed — at least some did, while others blushed slightly. “40000 was bid, who offers more?” And they bid more. 50000, 60000 and it went on and on. Many hands went up, but no one raised their hands as quickly as the cloaked figure and the man with the stallions. Both only lowered their hands so that they could raise them again immediately afterwards. It was a tough battle, and the goblin with the stallions began to sweat. Both raised their hands again and again until they were the only ones left to make a bid. 70000, 100000 and it went on. The other goblins watched in bewilderment as the bids continued to rise into the sky. Izzy’s head was spinning as the numbers went on and on. Was she that valuable? She knew the price Kreks father had offered, but that was an official bid, legal and therefore high. This was about a stolen ponygirl — herself! — which was supposed to bring the price down, as it excluded many legal uses for her. But that didn’t seem to bother anyone. In the end, the man with the stallions gave up — he shook his head and left the yard with a fuming head. “”We have a winner, with a bid of an incredible 150000 thalers. As I have to remind you, we expect a quick payment, until then, the animal will remain in our custody. Where would you like the animal delivered after payment?” The figure under the hood remained unrecognised but called out in an unusually croaky voice: “Take her to the nearest blacksmith. She shall receive my brand there immediately.” Before Izzy could resist, her legs were tied together, and the desperate girl was taken back to the stable. — “Wake up, you sleepyhead!” Izzy rubbed her eyes tiredly. She was still lying in her bed — it was the weekend after all, and she didn’t have to help on the farm today — but someone must have thought she’d had enough rest. She yawned heartily and stretched out in all directions when there was another knock on her window. The shutters were still closed, so she couldn’t see who it was, but even so she had a suspicion. She poked her ears with one finger and scratched her itchy back. “Leave me alone, Grall, I don’t have to get up yet.” For her eight years, Izzy was already quite tall, which her bed reflected. Her room, on the other hand, was that of a little girl: there were dolls everywhere and everything was a bit more colourful than the boys’. But Grall didn’t stop, so she opened the shutters and looked out. The little goblin boy had to jump to even reach the window; he was tiny compared to Izzy, as was usual for goblins of his age — he was also eight years old. They didn’t grow very tall as adults, but as children they were even easier to overlook. “Come on, I’m bored.” “Go play with someone else.” Grall grimaced. “They all don’t like me and are stupid. They think I’m a fool for playing with you. It’s your fault!” “But it’s the weekend and I want to sleep.” “The other children aren’t as lazy as you!” complained Grall, and he was right. For her eight years, Izzy was surprisingly sluggish, as if she was already a few years older, but she had an idea why that was. “They don’t have to grow as fast as I do.” She stood up out of necessity and indeed, she was certainly the tallest girl in the whole neighbourhood. She had had a few growth spurts in the last months and the latest one had thrown her completely off balance. Even walking was difficult for her, her legs seemed to be a different length every day. Most people found this funny, but Izzy was just annoyed by it. If she continued to grow like this, she would soon have to bend under the door frame — even if there was still a long way to go. Still, she was getting surprisingly close even to her father, although he wasn’t a particularly tall man. “All right. Wait for me, but I wanna eat first.” “If you must…” he grumbled, looking for some interesting insects to watch. That was his favourite thing — he was terribly interested in animals, but as a goblin that was more of a curse than a blessing; after all, animals couldn’t stand them. Apart from the ponygirls, that is. But insects didn’t show the same disgust for them, probably because they were just too stupid for that. Grall played with worms, woodlice, butterflies and all the other creepy-crawlies that Izzy didn’t even want to touch with a stick. She made herself comfortable in the kitchen for a moment and ate a large loaf of bread and cheese without rushing before throwing on her summer dress and trotting out to Grall in the yard. “So, what are we doing?” Izzy asked, crossing her arms. “It was very cosy in my bed. You better have a good idea!” He held up a snail. “We could play with these. They’re funny. We could let them have a race!” “Ewww!” said Izzy, shaking herself. She knelt down and had a closer look at the snail anyway. “What do you see in them?” “I like animals. They’re nicer than humans and goblins. Plus, they’re useful.” “Animals don’t like goblins, right?” It was half a question, half a statement. At eight years old, she understood the world very well; except when she didn’t, which of course she wouldn’t admit. After all, she was eight years old, and knew everything. Sometimes. “That’s why I play with insects. The only animals we goblins have are ponygirls.” Izzy crossed her arms. “Ponygirls aren’t animals, they’re girls and women.” “They’re animals to us. You don’t understand that. Besides, it’s not bad for them. I’m sure it’s fun.” “Sure, it’s great for a goblin. But not for the ponygirls.” She leant forward and supported herself with her arms. Grall looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “I bet I’m faster than you. We’ll run all the way to that tree back there!” He jumped up and got ready, but Izzy just laughed. “You have short legs and besides, you’re totally clumsy. You can’t win.” He stuck his tongue out at her. “Are you afraid you’ll lose?” She stood up and looked down at him. “Fine, give the signal and we’ll run!” “Go!” They both ran at full speed. Izzy kicked up some dust behind her and took a big leap forwards. Grall’s little legs whirled around, but it took him nearly four steps, whereas it only took Izzy one leap. It was hopeless, and Grall was barely off the starting line before Izzy hit the tree with force; a few leaves fell and landed on Grall’s head. “That was close!” “It wasn’t,” Izzy cackled. “Back to the house, but I’ll give you a bit of a head start.” — Izzy grinned in the present. She had long forgotten all about it, but now some old memories came flooding back, just in time to give her a little comfort. Grall had been her only real friend for a long time, there was hardly a day when they hadn’t been up to some kind of mischief. “But what happened next?” she asked herself, trying to remember. — Grall nodded and they both got ready. “Go!” he shouted again and sprinted off. He had already travelled half the distance when Izzy leapt ahead and overtook him with ease. It wasn’t that she was really fast — it took her some effort not to trip over her own legs — but Grall was just so terribly slow, his legs weren’t made for sprinting. She reached the house well before him. “You should go back to playing with the snail. You’re a good match,” she quipped, giving him a light poke, but it was enough to knock him over. “That was luck. But I bet you won’t make it on all fours!” He grinned broadly at her, but she just smiled smugly back. “Then I’ll get my dress dirty!” He shrugged his shoulders. “Then just take it off. There’s nobody here who cares. I see ponygirls in our yard all the time.” “I’m not a ponygirl,” Izzy said indignantly and instead knotted the dress tighter around her hips so that at least her knees remained free. “Don’t you dare tell anyone!” “Not a word, I promise! So, are you ready?” — That little bastard, Izzy thought and grumbled softly, but then smiled again. Looking back, it all seemed so innocent, who knew where it would lead? When she thought about it more closely, her journey as a ponygirl had probably started before the saddle. As strange as it was, it was good to know in this terrible situation that at least someone out there would always be thinking about her. — She nodded and got down on her knees, then leant forward and fell on her hands. Her eyes were fixed on the tree and as soon as she heard the “go”, she ran off. Even on all fours she was still fast, and to her great surprise she reached the finish line well before her friend. Grall really was a snail, she thought, and celebrated her victory loudly. “Oops, you lost! Now what? Do you want to lose again?” “That was just luck. Again!” On another “go”, Izzy sprinted off, while Grall barely kept up. He reached the house exhausted and leaned against the door. “How are you doing that? You’re way too fast for a human.” “Or you’re too slow.” “No, really. You’re strong and I’m so light. I’m sure you wouldn’t even notice me on your back.” The victories had given Izzy some confidence. She nodded patronisingly and said, “You don’t weigh anything. I bet I’m no slower with you!” Grall tilted his head. “Rubbish, I’m not that light either! But if you want to give it a go…” He fetched a blanket from the shed and put it on Izzy’s back. ‘So it doesn’t rub,’ he said, and climbed up. It wasn’t exactly like a ponygirl, but the big grin on his face told that he was pleased. — Izzy swallowed in the present. It hadn’t seemed so strange at the time, but now it all made sense. That must have been the moment he’d first seen her as a ponygirl. It wasn’t that he had asked for another ride like that afterwards — he hadn’t been brave enough for that — but only a few months later he had called her Buttercup for the first time. He had stamina, Izzy had to give him that. She should be angry about it, she knew, but so much had happened in the meantime that these children’s games seemed harmless compared to her current problems. — “Go!” shouted Grall and Izzy galloped off. It was a wild ride, with no real saddle and only a blanket on her back, Grall had nowhere to hold on to. Halfway down the track, he tumbled off Izzy and cried out loudly. “Ouch! Wait, you lost me!” She made a full stop and came back to him on all fours. “What are you doing, why didn’t you hold on?” she asked mockingly. “It wasn’t my fault, you were too unsteady. You need to be more careful with me on your back.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll try my best.” They tried again, and this time they almost succeeded, but just before the finish line, Grall fell out of the would-be saddle once more. “You’re really clumsy!” she scolded. “Was I at least fast?” “Yes, but it only counts if I don’t fall off.” Izzy rolled her eyes. “But it’s your fault if I slow down.” Again she set her sights on the house. “Go!” said Grall and she took off running. He laughed at her back and she felt his light weight on her back with every step. Her legs and hands kicked up dirt and mud flew off in all directions. “See, I’m fast!” He looked at her dreamily and nodded. “You’re quick, you must be the fastest… er… the fastest in the whole neighbourhood.” This praise was like a balm to her soul. “Izzy, Grall, what are you doing?” asked Matheus, who had just returned from the forest. Grall hurriedly jumped off Izzy’s back and took the play saddle with him. “Did you have fun today?” Grall nodded eagerly. “A lot of fun! Izzy is really fast.” “I thought so,” Matheus said, and Izzy noticed him raising an eyebrow. “Come in, I’ve brought some food. Izzy, clean your hands and knees first.” — Izzy stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t blame Grall, they had both been just children at the time. But why hadn’t her father said anything, stopped it, or at least explained it to her? Had he always suspected that she would end up under a saddle? Sure, her mother had been a ponygirl, but was that the only reason she was destined to be one? He should still have told her the truth! Same with Oozol She had trusted them, but they had lied to her and watched her slowly turn into an animal. She felt like she was about to explode. She kicked the stable door with force, but then her anger cooled abruptly; she slid down the wall and rested her head on her knees. As long as she was locked up here in this stable, waiting for her new master, such thoughts were silly. She would kick Oozol and her father in the ass, but she had to get out of this stable first; for now, though, her future looked bleak, and the only red bottom would probably be hers when her new owner branded her butt. She had only made things worse by running away. — Izzy waited three days for her new owner, while the other horses were picked up one by one by their buyers. But she was always left behind, only to end up being the last ponygirl in the stable. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for her — she didn’t want to be sold — but her future remained uncertain. What would Pelkor do with her if the buyer didn’t pick her up? The goblin seemed to be getting nervous, Izzy kept hearing him asking about the buyer, but no one had seen him again. The days passed slowly, and even slower for a ponygirl in a stable. With no occupation or task, her gloomy thoughts were her only company; again and again she looked out of the stable, looking for a hint that someone — Grall, Oozol or her father — had come running to rescue her, as in one of the stories her father had loved to read to her as a child. But no one came. It wasn’t until the third day that Pelkor himself came to her stable and stood in front of her. “You’re lucky, we thought we’d have to sell you again. But your buyer actually brought us the money. Nobody here was expecting that.” Pelkor looked at Izzy, but she quickly realised that he wasn’t waiting for an answer. It was a monologue, like talking to a dog but not believing the animal understood. A better soliloquy, nothing more. Izzy stood up with trembling legs and swallowed. So her future was set; no one had come — no prince in shining armour would rescue her from her plight, or at least ride her home. Even if that home was the stables of the cursed goblin Oozol. Pelkor put a collar and lead on her and led her out of the stable. She knew exactly what her destination was, and her whole body was trembling, but with her legs tied together and Pelkors sharp whip, escape was out of the question. Their route continued through the heavy gate out onto the street, and from there through the portal into the city; it was slightly smaller than Udamos, but that was to be expected in a goblin city, its inhabitants were smaller after all. The houses had more floors, but each was lower than typical for humans. Only a few shops had the full height — whenever a ponygirl could be brought in. In general, the two worlds merged in the city: Everything noble and clean was small and made for the goblins, while stables, watering troughs and smithies were the size needed to support a human — a ponygirl. There were more than enough humans in this city, but they all wore saddles or bridles; there wasn’t a human to be seen who didn’t serve the goblins as an animal. At least this way, Izzy didn’t have to feel strange being dragged naked on a leash through the city in triple steps. It wasn’t even an unusual sight; to her surprise, she even saw a few rather small young women being led through the city on all fours, wearing collars with dogs’ names on them. She shuddered. The goblins’ grief at not being able to have other animals led to strange solutions. But what was worse: life as a horse or as a dog? Was being a dog also whipped, ridden and given a ponytail? But a dog’s tail was probably no different, and for the safety of the goblins, this girl even wore a muzzle. In the end, they probably all shared the same misery, just in different forms. Pelkor plucked at her leash as Izzy slowed, pulling her towards a blacksmith’s old workshop in a dingy back alley inhabited by some sinister goblins. They eyed her gloomily, but Pelkor dragged her into the smithy before any of them could say a word. “Good morning Pelkor, what are you bringing me?” asked the blacksmith, who was unusually strong for a goblin. His arms were wider than the thighs of most others of his kind, and his skin was black with soot and his eyes cloudy. “A ponygirl? Is it the animal you told me about? You’ve come at the right time, the fire is hot and willing.” Izzy shuddered at the words. She had never been so close to her doom. This place would finally seal her fate. Here, today, she would end her journey from which there was no turning back. Sure, she was already registered, but this felt different, partly because she now knew that the registration had been valid for her entire life. It was more personal. More final. More painful! It was the end of her previous life. Her stomach rebelled. “Shall we get started?” the blacksmith asked. “No, we’ll wait for the new owner. He’ll bring his own brand.” “Good, but we should already secure her in the rack. Pelkor directed Izzy to a metal rack, which she quickly recognised: it was used to secure the horses so that they did not move too much during the ordeal. It was a cruel instrument of her submission, but she lay down on it anyway without resistance. Escape was out of the question in this town; the gates were well guarded and they were certainly used to ponygirls fleeing. She felt the cold metal on her stomach and legs, while her head was secured at the other end with several straps. A piece of wood was placed in her mouth and tied behind her head. It tasted of fear and despair — at least she imagined it did, but it was actually just walnut wood with some chipped varnish. Still, it was a flavour she would surely never forget. The two goblins tied her upper body down, and her legs were also bound to the frame. Izzy couldn’t move an inch after that, she was completely at the mercy of the two goblins. “That looks secure. Now for the plug so she doesn’t mess up the floor. You’d be surprised how many ponies can’t hold it in when we’re branding them. Silly animals.” He retrieved a large plug from a cupboard, lubed it with a shiny liquid and, without further warning, thrust it painfully into Izzy’s ass, securing it with a couple of straps to keep it safely inside her. What she only found out later was that the plug was also stretching her buttocks, which made the branding even more successful. But she wouldn’t have cared at that moment; her whole body trembled and she tried to see what was happening around her, but the straps were too tight and she could only look straight ahead at a bare wall. Still, she could feel the heat of the fire next to her, and could hardly believe that soon a brand would be blazing in it just for her. “Ah, there’s our buyer,” Pelkor said, leading him into the room. Izzy noticed that he didn’t ask for the buyer’s name; I guess that wasn’t common among criminals anyway. “Thank you for your patience,” the buyer said in a croaky voice. It was strangely fake, as if born out of effort, and Izzy allowed herself a tiny spark of hope. She heard the whirring of a small gold coin being tossed into the air again and again. “It wasn’t easy to raise so much money in such a short time, but she’s worth it. Something about her immediately fascinated me, from the first moment I saw her.” Izzy’s stomach tightened. No, it couldn’t be… “Did you bring the brand with you? Or did you come out of politeness to warm yourself by the fire?” The buyer laughed, grumbling. “I always have my brand with me. It’s something special.” Izzy heard him hand it to the blacksmith. “Very personal, I see. But why not, the horse has no choice anyway.” At the words, the blacksmith placed his hand on Izzy’s bottom, right on the spot where he would brand her, then he stuck the brand into the fiery coals and everyone waited in anticipation until the metal glowed hot and was ready to force Izzy into her new role forever. Meanwhile, the buyer kept walking around Izzy. He hadn’t lifted his hood, and she still couldn’t see his face. Why was he hiding from her so skilfully? Was it possible that…, she thought again. No, she pushed that thought aside, into a dark corner where he couldn’t hurt her. This was no place for hope or dreams. “Do you want to do it, or should I?” the blacksmith asked. The buyer replied immediately: “I will do it. This is my brand and my horse. I’ve waited a long time for this. Far too long.” He took one last turn, then stopped in front of Izzy and looked her straight in the face. He raised his hands and pulled his hood back. The sounds of the forge faded into the distance as her heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. The buyer was a stranger. A wide scar ran across his throat and explained the strange voice. “Do you also want to tell us why she is so valuable to you?” asked Pelkor. The stranger nodded. “We all lost a lot in the war, but contrary to what is often said, not everyone in the royal house was murdered. A few of us survived.” “Oh, and where do you stand in the rankings? Behind or ahead of the master of the chamber pot?” the blacksmith grumbled. “Nowhere, I was born out of wedlock. But who cares, all those who are bothered by it are dead,” said the stranger. “Today I’m the first in line.” “Too bad you don’t have a kingdom any more.” “Oh, the kingdom still exists, it’s just ruled by strangers. But I’m going to change that.” The stranger audibly tossed the coin into the air. “Kings need symbols because symbols represent power, and power is what a ruler needs. If I ride this horse, it will bring me a little closer to the throne.” “Or you’ll be laughed at,” Pelkor mocked. “That’s hardly your problem. Let’s get started, but first let’s give the horse my lucky charm.” Izzy squealed as the stranger shoved the coin deep into her private parts. The coin was cold and rough, but that was probably not the worst thing Izzy had to endure that day, even if she felt like a piggy bank. Nothing and no one would be able to save her now, her fate lay in the flames and in moments would be pressed against her rear until the mark remained on her skin forever. She shook the frame once more, but even her bottom wouldn’t move an inch. She was ready. The blacksmith added more wood, which cracked and creaked in the flames. The heat in the room and around the brand was rising. It had to be red-hot already, Izzy thought, but she still couldn’t see it. What kind of mark did he have, she thought further, and was startled by the blacksmith’s voice. “The sign is hot enough. We can begin.” The stranger nodded and walked behind Izzy so that she could no longer see anything of what was going on. She closed her eyes and waited. She heard the blacksmith hand her new master a special pair of tongs, which he used to remove the brand from the hot coals. The embers rustled to the side and the air shimmered above the glowing iron. With a quick movement, her new master turned away from the fire and aimed the brand directly at Izzy’s butt, at the free spot that would bear his mark in the future. It would make her his property forever, his ponygirl, his animal. The number might say otherwise, but that didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. He would rob her of her last shred of humanity, and yet she had no choice — no say or voice in the matter. Her role was to lie tied to the rack and wait to see what the goblins who were her lords and masters did. This little creature controlled her future. Everything inside Izzy tightened as she felt the heat of the brand close to her skin. “Wait!” someone called from the door, and Izzy’s eyes snapped open. That voice… light, uneven footsteps echoed through the room. “I don’t want to disturb your nice little gathering, but I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” Izzy felt the heat of the branding fade from her bottom. Her heart drummed rapidly in her chest. Was it possible that…? “Who are you and what do you want?” the buyer asked. “This is private. Get out or you’ll pay the price.” The new visitor just laughed cheekily. “Funny you say that. Because you’ve got something there that belongs to me. Give her back or I’ll get her.” His voice seemed tired, but determined. Izzy tugged at the straps, making the frame wobble, but she couldn’t break free. Thousands of emotions rushed through her; hope, fear, love, hate, and everything a human or ponygirl could possibly feel. There was so much to talk about, but all that mattered now was her freedom. She neighed loudly through the gag. “Grall!” she tried to call out, but apart from a loud whinny, nothing could be heard. “This horse? No way,” Pelkor said, and Izzy heard him draw a knife. “Good, then so be it,” said Grall. More knives were drawn and Izzy heard a fierce battle begin. The goblins leapt wildly across the room, knives hitting each other and raw flesh. Blood splattered everywhere, then Izzy felt a few cuts from the knives split her straps again and again. The leather gave way under the sharp metal and Izzy was able to half sit up, only her legs and arms were still bound. The fight was cruel. The blacksmith already lay dead in the corner, but Grall was still fighting with the new buyer, while Gribat — whom Izzy only now noticed — was crossing blades with Pelkor. They had all already taken cuts and were bleeding profusely, but to Izzy’s surprise Grall and Gribat were holding their own against these dark figures, despite both being visibly inexperienced, but that was probably true of their enemies too. Grall’s passion and youth in particular made up for a lot. The knives whirled through the air at breathtaking speed and Izzy realised why the goblins were such fearsome warriors; their hands were made for playing with knives and made up for their small size with ease. The iron hissed through the air and it sometimes seemed to be just luck if one of the fighters narrowly escaped death. As much as the humans were superior in strength and running, this was where the goblins were in their element. Grall knocked the brand out of the buyer’s hand, picked it up, and thrust it directly into the goblin’s face. The man cried out and stumbled over a stool, almost falling to the ground. Grall took advantage of the distraction and cut another strap, allowing Izzy to move at least one leg. It wasn’t enough to escape yet, but it was a beginning. The buyer screeched with rage, leaping forward and driving Grall back towards the door, stopping just short of Izzy. “I paid 150000 thalers for this animal. I will ride her to my throne. I’d rather kill you than give her to you,” he hissed. Grall spat some blood on the ground. “The toilet is the only throne you’ll ever see. The money’s your problem, just don’t shop with horse thieves. But Izzy’s coming with me, and I’ll walk over your dead body if I have to.” Despite his leg, he skilfully dodged the attacker and hurriedly cut the straps of her gag. He had called her Izzy, she realised, and her heart beat faster. “Quick, free me,” she shouted, but as happy as she was to be rescued, she had to tell him something else; all this couldn’t have been pointless. “But I’m not going back with you. Never.” She felt silly arguing at that very moment, but it had to be said. The betrayal weighed heavily on her and she couldn’t and wouldn’t go back to a place where she couldn’t trust anyone. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Grall replied breathlessly, and only now did Izzy realise that something was wrong with him. His skin was pale and deep worry lines stretched across his face. He was also dirty, as if he had only been riding for days. “Then why are you here?” she asked, confused as the fight continued. A spark of dangerous hope ignited in her chest; had she misjudged him again? It took a moment for Grall to find the time to answer. “What do you think? I thought you had been kidnapped. That you were in danger and I had to save you.” “Nobody kidnapped me…” Izzy looked away, embarrassed. “I ran away. From you with your stupid brand and your father.” “Could you please be a bit quieter, I’m trying to slit a throat here!” Pelkor shouted in annoyance as his blade narrowly missed Gribat. “You’re all mad!” growled the buyer. “Shut up, I’m talking to my friend,” Grall hissed and kicked the stranger in the stomach. It was almost funny, Izzy thought, but she preferred to use the brief pause in the fight to ask another question. “Then you won’t take me back and punish me?” “What? No! I was just terribly worried about you. We searched everywhere in vain and even rode far into goblin country — but then there were rumours that a royal horse had been sold here in the city.” His blade missed the buyer and left a deep gouge in a support beam. “You could have said you didn’t want my brand.” It didn’t escape Izzy’s notice that not even the stranger’s knife caused him as much pain as those words. “But you were so happy about it. Besides, that’s not all…Hersia told me that your father registered me to you when I was born. I’ve always been your ponygirl!” That was a mistake, Izzy realised, this news upset Grall and a deep cut in his arm was the reward. “Impossible. He would have told me that —“ His gaze darkened. ”— or not. Anyway, I’ll get you out of here, then you can decide for yourself.” All the fighters looked exhausted, they were bleeding from multiple wounds and it didn’t look like it was going to end well. “You can still leave,” Pelkor shouted, jumping away from the door. “Just get out of here and we’ll forget about this. The blacksmith was a scumbag, no one will miss him.” The buyer nodded mutely. “You go and we’ll keep the horse and everything will be fine.” “No way,” Grall gasped. “I’m not leaving without Izzy!” Gribat spat on the ground. “I’m not going to die for a horse! We were going to look for her, not end up six feet under for her.” “Can we settle on a draw?” asked Grall, half grinning. “I’ll take Izzy, but I’ll get you the money.” The buyer seemed to consider, but Izzy saw what he was really doing. As Grall eyed him, he pulled a second knife from his waistband. Before she could warn Grall, the goblin raised his hand quickly. The story of her father ran through Izzy’s mind. Had her mother felt like that when the prince was killed? Had she seen her father draw the knife and sensed that her beloved master would be dead a moment later? Time seemed to pass in slow motion. Izzy swallowed hard. All the hatred of the last few days fizzled out in a wave of deep fear. Nothing that had happened, not even in the last few weeks, was stronger than the fear for her best friend. The goblins were quick, and the buyer was no exception. In a few moments, the knife would slip from his hand, fly through the air and — it seemed — rip Grall’s heart to pieces. Izzy had no doubt that this goblin knew what he was doing, and the knife would kill Grall. As if by reflex — but she wouldn’t have done otherwise if it had been a conscious decision — she kicked the buyer in the back. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, her position was too unfavourable for that, but it was enough to throw him off balance. The knife had already left his hand, but her thrust was enough for one last finger to alter the trajectory by just a few centimetres. The knife whizzed through the air with a screech and sank effortlessly into Grall’s body. Just like the prince, Grall fell backwards, lifeless. Izzy screamed until her lungs burned. The branding The hard slam of Grall’s limp body on the cold stone floor echoed through the forge, kicking up dust that covered the room like a veil. Izzy was still screaming, but no one paid any attention to her — the fight wasn’t over yet. Unbeknownst to her, Gribat had shifted the battle with Pelkor to Izzy’s side, and he took the only opportunity to sever the last strap. She jumped to her feet. Never before had she been so focussed on a single target, her gaze fixed on the buyer as if through a tunnel: He was kneeling next to Grall and was raising his knife high in the air, ready to plunge the sharp metal into Grall’s stomach and become a murderer for good — if there was any life left in the fallen goblin. Izzy lashed out and hit the villain with her horseshoe in the head, which exploded like a watermelon. It was a terrible mess, but Izzy wasn’t done yet. She lifted her other foot and shattered Pelkors spine. The goblin’s scream was terrible, but Gribat put an end to it with a quick cut. It was a cruel few minutes, far removed from anything Izzy had ever experienced, but the silence afterwards was almost worse. Gribat looked at Izzy, they were both trembling. The groom was wounded and released Izzy’s hands with his last remaining strength. Izzy took the gag out of her mouth and went to her knees beside Grall, who was lying on the dirty floor. Her whole world was shaking. Until now, she had thought this was all about her life, but now it was about him too. It was bad enough that he had offered his freedom on the bet, but now he had risked his life for her. Deepest shame flooded her body, without her escape, none of this would have happened. Perhaps as a friend he should have told her the truth earlier and listened more carefully, but this here was undeniable proof of his friendship. And yet everything seemed to have come to an end here. She leant forward and placed a hand tenderly on his chest; his heart beat faintly for her. “He’s alive!” Izzy shouted loud enough for half the town to hear. “Keep it down,” Gribat warned her with a groan. “Stupid animal.” He held a bleeding wound on his stomach. “We must leave quickly, we have no friends in this city. Can you carry him? Good. Sunshine and Lisande are waiting outside.” Izzy carefully picked Grall up, his face twisted in pain as he groaned with every movement. Enough goblins had already died that day, Izzy thought, and she certainly didn’t want to lose her best friend — the only one she really needed. Despite her size, she was surprisingly affectionate as she hugged him to her chest, giving him some warmth as well. She felt his heart adjust to her rhythm and calm down. Together, they crept out to where Sunshine and Lisande were waiting for them. To Izzy’s surprise, they were not tied up, even their horse bits were hanging loose. “Surprise!” exclaimed Sunshine and Lisande at the same time, but their faces froze at the sight of the goblins. Izzy’s heart leapt, but it wasn’t the right time for a warm greeting. “What happened? Wait, tell us later,” Sunshine asked with wide eyes. “We have to leave quickly. I saw guards back there, they must have heard the noise. Gribat, hurry and jump in the saddle,” she demanded sharply, and Gribat followed his mount’s command. “Put Grall in my saddle,” Lisande demanded, but Izzy shook her head. “Grall stays with me!” she said more harshly than necessary, but the other horse understood. Gribat was barely in the saddle when Sunshine set off, leading the five of them through side streets and dark alleyways to the well-guarded main gate. “My first owner lived near the city, so I know my way around a bit. A bastard called Pelkor.” Izzy laughed. “A goblin with no backbone. Forget him, he’s history.” “Good!” said Sunshine. “We have to get through the gate. They won’t let us out like this; not with Grall in Izzy’s arms. We have to run through, but they’ll come after us. Best we distract them and you just keep running.” “What if I’m against it?” asked Gribat in a huff, clearly not very fond of the role of weight in the saddle. “You’re really rebellious for a ponygirl…” “Then you’re welcome to walk. But if you don’t have a better suggestion, then put the horse bit in my mouth and hold on tight because it’s about to get wild! Are you ready?” “Ready,” Gribat replied tight-lipped. “Not you, you blockhead! Buttercup! You’re only needed in the dark,” Sunshine snarled at him, clearly enjoying giving a goblin a piece of her mind. Gribat probably didn’t have the strength to argue further that day, and not just because of his wound. “It’s all right, you don’t have to be mean!” Izzy took a deep breath. She looked at the unconscious Grall against her chest and nodded. Whatever happened, she would not share her mother’s fate — she would save her goblin, whatever the cost. “I’m ready.” She glanced briefly at the gate and readied herself; even if it might mean running straight into Oozol’s arms and him never letting her go. For a brief moment, an unwanted thought entered her head: why not just run away again? Who would stop her? Her freedom lay beyond this gate, but if she brought Grall home, everything would be the same. She didn’t just shake the thought aside, instead she took it, folded it into a neat little package and tore it into a thousand little pieces. To hell with freedom, what was it worth if you didn’t have the ones you loved with you? Besides, she still had a few things to say to Oozol. “I’ll run ahead, you slip through the gate as soon as they follow me,” Sunshine said. “Is it bad that I’m a bit scared?” asked Lisande uncertainly. “We’re all scared,” replied Sunshine. “I don’t want to get caught in this shithole either. Don’t worry, they won’t catch us.” Gribat put the horse bits in their mouths. He rattled and some blood ran from the corner of his mouth, it was a harsh contrast to his green skin. The ponygirls ran off and all of them — including Gribat — made a hell of a racket, attracting the attention of the guards at the gate. The goblins in their armour tried to stop Sunshine and Lisande, but the ponygirls simply knocked them over and ran past them, whinnying loudly, but not too fast so that they still had a chance to mount their horses and follow them. Izzy crept up and slipped out almost unnoticed. She was already outside the gate when she heard one last guard call out behind her. Her legs flew over the cobblestones and she took off at a gallop down the street. The shiny coin slipped out of her intimate parts with the sudden movement — she had forgotten all about it in the excitement — and was left behind as a reminder for the town of the precious ponygirl they would never see again. The guard’s horse had no chance against her and soon Izzy disappeared into the forest. All that remained was some dust, an unused brand and the bodies of the men who had tried to steal her freedom. — “Sunshine? Lisande? Gribat?’ Izzy called into the darkness, but nobody answered. The night was cold and dark, but most importantly, Izzy had lost her sense of direction again. She had been running straight ahead off the road, hoping that this would take her home, but she wasn’t sure. Without her companions she would probably never find the way back, she feared and continued to search, but she remained alone. She found herself a little hollow and laid Grall on her bosom so that he would be comfortable and warm. It was a terrible sight: without medicine and bandages she could not treat his wounds, only the knife lay somewhere in the dirt far away near the town. The healthy green colour had disappeared from his face, giving way to a pale grey. “Izzy…,” Grall stammered deliriously. Izzy startled. They were his first words since the injury. “Grall? Grall, can you hear me?” She gently stroked his boiling forehead, but he didn’t open his eyes. “Dad, the other kids are so mean, but Izzy is my best friend… Dad, she let me ride her. It was wonderful… Dad, I don’t care what horses you have, I just want her. She’s the only one in the world I want to ride on… if she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t have to… Father, we have to find her, she’s probably in danger…. I won’t bring her back if she doesn’t want to… I’ll never let her down.” She gave him a kiss on the forehead. “And I won’t let you.” There was that strange feeling in her chest again, but now it was joined by a mother’s fear of losing her favourite child. But she wasn’t ready to give up just yet. — The next morning, she ignored her growling stomach and picked herself up with aching bones. She took Grall in her arms again and set off in the only direction that seemed suitable. Despite her hunger and thirst, she put one foot in front of the other and her legs carried her for many kilometres during the day, and more at night. The journey demanded all her reserves, but she knew the clock was ticking for Grall and she had no time to waste. There was no sign of her friends or Gribat, they must have taken a different route — she could only hope hers wasn’t the wrong one. It was day again, and finally evening; her legs were burning like fire and there was no denying it: she needed a break and somewhere to hide. The low sun shone through the dense foliage and the outline of a ruin loomed before Izzy. Izzy sneaked up slowly, but the place seemed deserted. She darted past the collapsed walls and laid Grall down on a bed of leaves and branches in front of the statue of a fat goblin king with a broken nose. The place seemed strangely familiar to her, as if it came from a memory born of a dream. She shook off the thought. “No one will disturb us here tonight,” Izzy whispered and lay down next to Grall, who was plagued by feverish dreams again. She held him close and could do nothing more than hope that he would live to see the next morning. She prayed silently, although she never did, and asked for rescue or for someone to lead her home. Her whispered words drifted like mist through the forest and disappeared into the darkness. — “Good morning, Buttercup,” a familiar voice whispered directly into her ear and Izzy cracked open her sleep-dusted eyes. The world was a blur and her head was as heavy as her legs. “Grall, you’re…” she began, but then she recognised the voice. “Drex!” She swallowed. “How did you find us?” Izzy shivered, this wasn’t the kind of help she’d been praying for, but now he was here. His ponygirl stood tethered to a tree, watching her curiously. “What happened to him? And where’s your saddle?” “We were attacked,” she said briefly. She slowly straightened up, ready to defend herself against the goblin if necessary. Her hands were free and she wouldn’t let him catch her; nothing would stop her from getting Grall home and to safety. She put one foot back and tensed her muscles. Drex raised his hands. “I didn’t expect that either. You two were a good team, besides, ponygirls rarely carry knives. That wouldn’t do any good to the throats of us goblins either.” His ponygirl giggled and winked. “Can you help him?” “No, it looks too severe, and there are no doctors or medicine in this area. Your farm is three days away, maybe two if we hurry. A long way, but probably the best I have to offer.” Izzy eyed him suspiciously. “How did you find us anyway?” “You snored loud enough to scare all the birds away. Besides, your fervour for the ruins has rubbed off on me. They are very fascinating. And you can even find valuable treasures in some of them. Worthwhile treasures, if you know what I mean.” “So you’re a treasure hunter…” “If you don’t need me, I’ll be happy to leave.” “Wait.” Izzy sighed. “Please help us. We can’t let him die.” “Fine, but what’s in it for me? No offence, but a few short rides don’t make us friends.” Izzy chewed on her lower lip and searched for a long time for something she could offer him. But as a horse she owned nothing, everything belonged to Grall, including herself. In this world, she was just a valuable animal, nothing more… of course! she thought. “I am your reward. Or rather: the finder’s fee. I ran away from my owner. He will reward you if you bring me back.” “Your owner is lying half-dead in front of me.” Drex tilted his head slightly and scrutinised her. “His father will pay, Oozol’s farm is known everywhere.” “Good, that sounds fair. How much will he give me for you?” His grin was wide enough that Izzy would have liked to shove her horse’s hoof down his throat; but she was depending on him. Later, perhaps. “At least 5,000 thalers. Certainly more if his son arrives alive. He’s generous when it comes to his son.” “That would be a lot of money for any other animal, but you’re something special. Why shouldn’t I leave your rider here and just take you with me?” Izzy jumped forward and looked down at the goblin. “Because nothing in the world could save you from my wrath if anything happened to Grall. I crushed one goblin’s head and broke another’s back to protect my -” she swallowed, remembering who she was talking to “- owner. Help me, or I’ll make you! You have a choice. Or not, actually.” The goblin had taken a step back at the words. “You’re probably the most unusual ponygirl I’ve ever met. Agreed, I’ll take you back to your stable and I’ll save Grall’s life — if I can. But you’re too dangerous for me like this. You have to be a ponygirl, or I won’t help you.” “And where am I supposed to get the gear for this?” asked Izzy harshly, snorting. “If you delay and anything happens to Grall, you’ll pay for it.” Izzy looked around and the realisation hit her like a lightning bolt; she stumbled back a few steps as her father’s words raged like a thunderstorm in her mind, “A Fat Goblin King with a broken nose from times past.” She covered her ears, but the words didn’t stop, finally she shouted them into the world so that they would finally be quiet. “Your statues are hardly any prettier…” Drex grumbled, but Izzy simply pushed him aside. She knelt in front of the statue like a supplicant and pushed aside a few small plants that hid the view of a niche beneath the stone feet. She swallowed and pulled out her mother’s ponygirl clothes. Drex whistled in surprise and took the saddle and bridle from her. “How did you know that?” “This is my mother’s gear, it was stored here when she stopped being a ponygirl.” Drex nodded slowly and looked her straight in the eye. “A ponygirl for a ponygirl.” His voice had taken on the power of a storm and a thousand little stars flashed in his eyes. He blinked and it was gone. “That makes sense. Our God takes strange paths sometimes, but the goal is always clear: you humans are subject to us, and so it shall always be.” It took a moment for Izzy to recover. “Oh, shut up!” she grumbled, but she just wanted to get away from the statue as quickly as possible. Without resistance, she had the saddle placed on her back. As soon as it was on her skin, a sharp wind swept through the forest and made the trees tremble. But she hardly noticed, her thoughts only centred on her mother and the strange feeling of carrying more of her stuff; she took her place, even their shared name was engraved on it. Only the Prince’s mark made it clear that this saddle had belonged to someone other than Izzy. Goosebumps ran down her back as the still amazingly soft leather wrapped around her arms. Every curve of the material nestled gently against her body, the saddle seemed made for her — so it was true, she looked like a sister to her mother, the saddle left no doubt about that. Izzy shivered at the thought, despite the many changes of the last few weeks, she felt particularly close to her mother at this moment, she could almost smell her in these clothes. Would she be proud of her, of a daughter who had submitted to a goblin without much coercion, to follow his reins and whip under his saddle? The saddle was followed by the bridle and finally the bit. Izzy hesitated before opening her mouth. “Take us straight to Oozol. We’ll only sleep if we absolutely have to!” Izzy ordered before the horse bit robbed her of her voice. It was a very intimate experience to share a horse bit with another ponygirl, but especially with her mother, who was probably not much older than when she had last taken it off. The taste was surprisingly neutral, and yet Izzy thought she recognised something familiar; it was probably just her imagination, and yet it had a wonderfully soothing effect. It was strange, but despite the many rides, they had never really found anything in the ruins; most had been looted long ago, or had never been more than an old outpost anyway. But now she realised that sometimes it wasn’t the destination, but the journey. The ride. The adventure. Travelling to the ruins had shaped her into what she was today. And whatever lay ahead of her in the coming hours and days, at least her mother was now by her side. Nothing bad could happen. As if in confirmation, the sun rose above the trees and bright sunshine warmed her body. “Tack!” shouted Drex and Izzy instinctively obeyed. She was a ponygirl one more, and her body reacted on its own. It felt familiar, normal and predetermined. She felt Drex place Grall in the saddle and secure him with some straps he took from his ponygirls saddlebag. Before Izzy could react, he tied her reins to his horse’s saddle. Izzy snorted angrily, but he only slapped her lightly on the bottom. “You are my pledge that my efforts will be worthwhile. Therefore, I will make sure that you reach your master.” Izzy didn’t like that, of course, but if it was necessary for Grall to live, it was acceptable. She nodded and got ready. Drex climbed into his saddle and gave his animal the spurs. The ride that followed surpassed everything that both ponygirls had ever had to endure in their lives. Drex spurred his horse on non-stop and could only give the ponygirls the absolutely necessary breaks. The whip remained in his hand and was used extensively whenever his horse slowed down even a little. Izzy, on the other hand, would have liked to run even faster, but her stamina was probably much better than her partner’s, even though she had been travelling for longer. Perhaps it was her disposition, or perhaps it was simply that her concern for Grall drove her on, but there was something else that gave her the strength she needed. It was a presence like a shadow in the corner of her eye that she felt beside her. A twin, with a magnificent bridle, mighty hooves and a powerful neigh that called directly into Izzy’s mind. Her mother had lost her prince, but now it felt like she wouldn’t allow her daughter to feel that pain. Izzy grinned and neighed enough as the hot sun burned on her back. Maybe it was all in her head, but ultimately, it didn’t matter; as long as it helped her save Grall, anything was fine with her. — Light was followed by darkness, darkness was followed by light. They only ate when they had to and only drank when they couldn’t help it. The nights were short and the hours on the move long. Izzy’s legs burned like fire, while her feet bled in her boots. Sweat had not run down her body for a long time, her body was too thirsty to spare the precious liquid. Her breathing was short and fast, veils were moving around in front of her eyes, and she could only guess how the exhausted ponygirl in front of her must feel. The monotonous sound of the two horses walking in unison rang through the forest and it was the only thing that kept Izzy sane. She had never been so absorbed in her role as a ponygirl; she was on the verge of summoning every last ounce of strength in her body just so that her rider — even if he was half-dead in the saddle — would reach his destination. It was the complete devotion of an animal to its master, but all that mattered to her right now was that Grall survived. She swallowed with a dry mouth and continued to put one foot in front of the other as the weight on her back became heavier and heavier. Grall was actually as light as a feather to her, but after such a long and intense journey, everything about her felt heavy as lead, even the perfect saddle failed to distribute the weight enough. All in all, it was more than any horse could bear, and yet there was no alternative. She had to do it, and she would make it. With every meter, she wondered again how far it was, but with the horse bit in her mouth she couldn’t ask — if Drex even knew the distance. He, too, hung weakly in his saddle, staring ahead while Izzy was fixated on him. On the evening of the second day, Drex pulled on his horse’s reins and raised his hand for Izzy to stop. She looked at him in surprise, but he just pointed ahead. Izzy glanced past his ponygirl and tears of relief streamed down her face. Faster than should have been possible, they had reached their destination. Oozol’s farm was right in front of them. Oozol was the first they saw, sitting in his rocking chair and staring up at the sky. His gaze was blank, he looked feeble and older than before. For a brief moment, Izzy felt a little pity for him, but then she remembered his lies and the feeling fizzled out immediately. She neighed loudly and the old goblin jerked his head in her direction. He snapped his eyes open, jumped out of the rocking chair with renewed vigour and ran to Izzy. Before he got to her, she turned round and went to her knees. “Grall!” said Oozol in agony and carefully laid his son on the ground. “Get help. Quickly! GET HELP!” “So I’ve kept my end of the bargain. Where’s my money?’ said Drex, who obviously had little regard for tact. Izzy nudged him angrily and showed him to take the horse bit out of her mouth. “What’s happened? Who’s that with you, Buttercup?” asked Oozol as they took his son to the doctor. “Izzy,” she hissed, and Oozol took a step back, then she explained everything to him briefly, as the old man was obviously eager to follow his son. “Drex, you’ll get your money, but not until later. Find a room in the village, I’ll pay for that too. Buttercup, you go to your stable.” “Izzy!” It was silly, really, but to her, the old goblin had lost the right to her ponygirl name with his lies. “And, no, I won’t.” “But…” said Oozol, but Izzy cut him off. “I’m going to see my father. There’s a lot I need to discuss with him. And with you later. Take care of Grall.” With that, she turned and left the stunned goblins behind, none of whom were used to a ponygirl giving them orders like that. She looked one last time at Drex, who grinned slightly. Izzy galloped off alone to her father, who was visibly surprised at the sight. She marched straight into the stable and collapsed just behind the door. — “Now tell me what happened out there,” her father asked after Izzy had devoured her third bowl of soup and three jugs of water. Or rather, after he had fed her with it, as he didn’t have a trough in the stable. Even now, he hadn’t taken the saddle from her, and she hadn’t asked for it. “Why did you run off?” Izzy thought long and hard. It would be easy to shout at him directly, and everything inside her demanded it, but he was also her father and he had earned her respect many times over. “I found my mother,” she finally said, turning her head to the side and pointing at her saddle. Matheus stared in amazement at the prince’s symbol while his mouth fell open. Until now, he had only had eyes for his exhausted daughter, but now he realised what she meant. “How… where… but, that’s impossible!” “I prayed for help, and I got it. The god of the goblins must have an ear for the beasts of the greenlings.” She laughed bitterly. “Drex said that’s what the goblin god wanted. One ponygirl in exchange for another. Do you believe that?” Her father tilted his head and remained thoughtfully silent. “You guessed what would happen, am I right?” Matheus pursed his lips, his eyebrows moved downwards and he took his time answering. “Your mother was an impressive woman, and an even more impressive ponygirl. With each passing year, you became more like her, there’s no denying it was more than fate.” “A fate you and Oozol helped to bring about!” hissed Izzy. She didn’t want to, but the fire in her belly was hard to contain. “What do you mean?” “You knew I was registered when I was born. I was always Grall Ponygirl. ALWAYS! Tell the truth!” Her father lowered his eyes, embarrassed. “It’s true, but we had to do it. Your mother was registered, though hardly anyone knew it. If we hadn’t done it, someone else could have registered you, against our will. We didn’t know for sure how widely the rumours about your mother were known. Your mum’s last wish was for you to grow up as a human and then decide for yourself which path to take. We all stuck to that.” “All except Oozol, of course.” “That’s not true. He also respected your mother’s wish until you ventured under the saddle yourself. He’s a goblin and deals in ponygirls, what did you expect his reaction to be?” Izzy huffed angrily. “Still, it was a lie that the registration was necessary!” “Not necessarily. If the goblin boy had looked at the register, it would have been spotted. Nothing would have been different.” “Yes, you wouldn’t have lied to me. There’s a big difference!” She jumped up and looked down at her father, realising for the first time that the weight of the last few weeks was weighing heavily on his shoulders. He seemed smaller than usual, leaning forwards more. “You’re right, I should have told you. But there was never the right moment and then it was too late. I will never lie to you again, I promise. But you have to believe me, we all wanted the best for you. Tell me, did any of us ever influence you to become a ponygirl before you did it by yourself?” Izzy shook her head slowly. Even Oozol was innocent in that regard. “I apologise to you for keeping quiet for too long, but we — Oozol included — wanted to leave the way back open for you. But there simply came a point when it was no longer possible.” “But why did it have to be Grall? Why did you register me on him?” Now her father smiled faintly. “As fathers, it just seemed right to give our children a connection along the way. We always hoped you would become friends. It was stupid, but it felt right at the time. We — or at least I — didn’t fully consider the consequences. Please understand, but I had also lost my wife that day, your connection to Grall gave me a strange feeling of protection for you. I didn’t know what the future would bring.” Now it was Izzy’s turn to be thoughtfully silent. The anger at her father had subsided, and even her hatred of Oozol no longer burned as strongly. The lies of the past remained unchanged, but they seemed less important. “Do I have to go back to Oozol?” He nodded slowly. “But as long as Oozol allows it, you are always welcome here.” “No, I mean, can I stay as long as I want to?” “He won’t like that.” Izzy laughed dryly. “That’s his problem then. You’re friends, I thought. What am I supposed to do in his stable if Grall isn’t there?” A stab went through her heart. “But please ask him how Grall is doing.” “Every day.” “Every morning and every evening,” Izzy demanded, realising how much had changed between her and her father. Not only had she become a ponygirl, she had really grown up. She would never have talked to him like that before, but now she was her own person who had made her own mistakes. And in a strange way, she was proud of it. Her father also looked at her with a look he had never given her before — for the first time she felt equal to him, and the saddle on her back didn’t change that. — Over the following days, Oozol arrived punctually every morning to collect Izzy, but Matheus sent him away empty-handed. At least Izzy learnt that Lisande, Sunshine and even Gribat had arrived at the farm the day after Izzy, exhausted and wounded; one less burden to carry. But Oozol kept coming back. It wasn’t that Matheus denied that Izzy was with him — often Oozol could even see her in the stables where she was staying at the moment. But as Izzy heard, her father refused to hand her over, citing their friendship. But with each passing day, the demand became clearer, and Izzy realised that their bond had its limits. “Why is this so damn important to you?” Matheus asked his friend out loud. She had rarely seen her father so upset. Oozol crossed his arms. “Because she’s a ponygirl, and I need to know she’s safe. No offence, but…” “You’re afraid she’ll run away again?” “Shouldn’t I be? But that’s not the point. I’m worried about her, that’s all.” “If you really care about her,” Matheus said, “you’ll wait until she’s ready.” Oozol nodded. “How’s Grall?” called Izzy from the stable, but didn’t join them. Being around Oozol still disgusted her, and her father’s explanation didn’t change that. “Unchanged. He’s alive, but only just. The doctors don’t know exactly what’s wrong with him. They say it’s more than just medicine. They were able to snatch him from the shadows, but now it’s up to him.” — After Oozol had left, Izzy stared up at the sky. Her thoughts were racing. Not only was her best friend fighting for his life, but her own future was still uncertain. Meanwhile, her mother’s items rested cleaned in the stable, where they were an everlasting reminder of her past. Izzy often watched her father go into the stable and take a long look at the things; she could only imagine what it felt like for him. On days like this, she preferred to do a bit of wandering in nature. It was one of the few times during the day that she would wear a dress; even the thinnest fabric felt strange and improper, like a prison against her skin that she only wore so that everyone wouldn’t be immediately reminded that she was a ponygirl. Still, the fabric was as skimpy as possible, leaving her arms exposed and even her strong legs barely covered. The breeze caressed her knees; it had been a long time since she had felt so unbound, but also so lonely. Whenever possible, she avoided humans and goblins, content to be near birds and squirrels. It was a beautiful day, the sun was high and the sky was clear of clouds, while a balmy breeze shook the leaves in the trees. She turned around one last tree and ran straight into Mexi, who landed on her bum in surprise. “Ouch,” Mexi grumbled, but then her face brightened. “Buttercup!” “Izzy,” Izzy replied a little annoyed, she was tired of correcting people by now, although in this case, it was a little different, as she realised from Mexi’s face. “Oh, well… you… of course…, if that’s what you want,” the goblin girl stuttered. “You’re wearing a dress,” Mexi realised. There was an undertone to her words; as always with Mexi, it wasn’t malicious, but it was also more than pure surprise — it sounded more like she’d just seen a cow wearing a hat wishing her a good morning. “Shall we go and sit by the lake?” Izzy asked, leading the way without waiting for Mexi’s reply. She would follow her if she wanted. “Please don’t run so fast… Izzy!” Izzy sat down in the soft sand just before the water and waited until Mexi had caught up with her. “How’s Grall?” Mexi could visibly just stop herself from scratching Izzy’s head. Old habits die hard, Izzy thought, and realised that Mexi was clearly having a hard time not seeing her as a ponygirl. “He hasn’t woken up yet, but he sometimes talks in his sleep. Often about you. I was at his bedside every day, but the doctor said I had to think about myself too and sent me away. But what am I supposed to do, I can’t have fun somewhere while he might be…” The girl began to cry bitterly, even more so when Izzy took her in her arms. “I know.” Izzy’s tears came too, and together they wept for the silly little goblin they both loved so much. Finally, they wiped the tears from their faces. Mexi smiled at Izzy and, lost in thought, reached into her pocket and held a treat out to Izzy, who ate it out of her hand without hesitation. Izzy froze when it was already half chewed, but it was too late anyway. They both looked at each other embarrassed. “So you’re not his horse any more?” Mexi asked, realising too late that this was perhaps not the best moment for it. She suddenly turned red, while Izzy swallowed the treat. The answer to that seemed so obvious, Izzy thought, but when she tried to open her mouth, she choked on the words. Yes, no, maybe? What was the truth? “I don’t know,” Izzy finally said, because that was the truth. “I liked the name Buttercup, but Izzy’s pretty too.” Mexi avoided Izzy’s gaze, her head still all red. “Actually, my name’s Isabel, but no one’s called me that for a while. Except when someone was angry with me — although a ponygirl is more likely to get the whip.” Now Izzy blushed slightly and Mexi giggled. “Are you going to visit Grall? After all, it could be that…” “Don’t say it!” grumbled Izzy. “I don’t want to hear that.” “Go and see him. Please. Isabel, Izzy. Buttercup. Whoever you are then, just go and see him.” Izzy nodded slowly. “I can’t. If I went to Oozol, I’d probably stay there. Where’s Albaea anyway?” “In the stable. She can sense when I’m not feeling well and I didn’t want to upset her. She’s a good horse, just like you.” Izzy looked her in the eyes, but quickly realised it was simply an observation, with no ill intent. “Let me know if — when — he wakes up.” With that, Izzy said goodbye, but her mind was still racing. Izzy’s dress had ridden up and Mexi tenderly stroked her bottom in farewell and gave her a pat before she realised what she had just done. She turned a little redder and apologised a thousand times, but Izzy just sighed. Old habits, Izzy thought again. But what if Grall woke up, she pondered further. Would she become his horse again? How would she decide if he gave her the choice again? Freedom seemed tempting, but what would happen then? The whole village had seen her as a horse, and her reputation was ruined. But even if that wasn’t the case, without a school certificate, she was denied the good professions. What’s more, she had few talents that would make her working life easier. The only thing she was good at was carrying a little green goblin around the world. She was unbeatable at that, and for Grall she even liked it, if she was completely honest with herself. It was a nice feeling to be useful to a friend. But if Grall died — and she dreaded that thought more than anything else — it was a moot point anyway. She would never submit to another goblin, Oozol could believe what he wanted. Maybe she would do it for Mexi, but she already had a horse. — It had been days, and the weather had cooled noticeably when Mexi ran to Izzy’s father’s farm. Her head looked like it was about to explode and it took her a few deep breaths before she found her voice. Izzy rushed out of the stable and was waiting spellbound for her first words. “He’s awake,” was all she could say, but it was enough. Izzy, who had been staring at the ceiling in the stable for days without any strength or hope, stood up straight and looked her father straight in the eyes. “Saddle me quickly, Mexi is riding me back to the farm”. “Are you sure? If you go there, you’ll probably stay there. I can send Oozol away, but I can’t kidnap you from this farm.” “I’ve never been so sure of anything before.” She gave her father a kiss. “Why didn’t you come to Albaea, anyway?” she asked Mexi. Mexi bit her tongue. “She wasn’t saddled and I didn’t want to wait a second longer than I had to.” “You left his side for me?” “Of course, that’s what he would have wanted.” “Thank you,” Izzy whispered. Her father reached for her mother’s saddle and bridle, and Izzy felt again the soft matter that connected her so intimately with her mother. She got down on her knees for Mexi and the goblin girl gave her the whip to drive her quickly to the farm. It was the first time Mexi had done this to her, but Izzy was grateful. She had no time to waste, not when it came to Grall. Again, it felt unfamiliar to have someone other than Grall riding her, but with Mexi it still seemed strangely familiar and right. The little goblin girl had earned Izzy’s trust, and now they rode together to their goblin. — “Open the gate!” Mexi ordered as Izzy swept through the undergrowth. The reins hung dormant and the horse’s bit wasn’t in; but that wasn’t necessary, this was one of the few routes Izzy knew by heart — and she wouldn’t have obeyed anyway. Izzy sprinted into the open square and pressed her hooves hard into the sandy ground. Stones and dirt whirled up and enveloped the surprised grooms in a thick cloud of dust. They coughed and waved their arms, but no one dared to reprimand Izzy for it, they were too impressed by her tall figure and serious look, which made even the experienced grooms take a step back. “Take me to Grall,” she ordered, and Mexi jumped out of the saddle rather than bring Izzy to her knees with a short “Tack!”. She led Izzy by the hand — without even looking at her reins, let alone touching them — past Oozol’s house to a guest cottage that was slightly larger than the rooms in Oozol’s house. The cabin was still too small for a human, but there was enough room for a clean bed — which was not made of earth — and large windows that let in enough light for a sick goblin who struggled with death every day. Oozol opened the door and looked at Izzy with a gaze that was hard to interpret. “He’s still asleep.” His voice was soft, almost tender, but Izzy knew it was for Grall and not for her. “I want to see him.” “After everything you did to him?” Oozol grumbled, and some life came back into him. “He loved you and you stabbed him in the back. Figuratively speaking. Don’t think I’m going to forgive you so easily just because you brought him back to me. He would never have gone off without you! He threatened to search the whole island until he found you, even if it had taken years — you know he would have done it.” A small tear ran down the old goblin’s cheek. A second and third joined in; they gathered at the edge of his chin and burst like Izzy’s dreams on the hard ground of reality. His mouth trembled with the next words. “I was wrong, I don’t want to see you any more. Get out of here. And don’t come back.” “I want to see him,” Izzy insisted stubbornly. She didn’t move an inch. “So you can break his heart again? Go away!” Oozol reared up to his full height. “Get out or I’ll sell you at the Miridos horse market tomorrow!” he shouted at Izzy. His whole body shook and his eyes burned like fire. “I want to see him.” “Open the door,” came a weak voice from the room and Oozol turned round unhappily. “I want to see her.” “But…” Oozol began, before pushing the door open and stepping aside. Grall lay weak in bed, his eyes almost closed and the colour had not returned to his face. He was emaciated and visibly barely escaped death, and Izzy feared that he could still lose the fight. The sight was like a punch to her gut and her eyes grew moist; it took all her strength not to drop to her knees here and now. Instead, she crouched slightly so that Grall could see her better through the low door. Mexi had hurried to his side, sitting on a small stool at the head of the bed and holding his hand. To Izzy’s incomprehensible surprise, he smiled warmly at her. “Grall it -” With obvious great difficulty, he raised a hand and silenced her. “Please don’t apologise. You don’t have to do that. You’re my best friend in the whole world — at least among humans,” he looked at Mexi and winked, “and I thanked you by luring you into a stable. I wanted you to be my horse because I thought it would make us both happy, but it only made us miserable.” He coughed and Izzy saw Mexi wince at that. The goblin girl must have sensed how close to death he still was, but Grall kindly refused her help. “Please forgive me.” “You need to rest,” said Oozol and Mexi at the same time, but Grall paid no attention. Under the astonished stares of his onlookers, he pushed the blanket aside and slid one leg out of the bed, then the next. With a loud groan, he pushed himself up and straightened to sit on the edge of the bed. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not dead yet,” he mocked, but he still needed Mexi’s hand on his back to keep him from falling over. Oozol looked sternly at Izzy. “You’re overworking him, Isabel. This is my farm and I want you to leave.” Izzy raised an eyebrow. Isabel… he hadn’t called her that for a long time. Had it become so serious for him that he could jump over his shadow and revoke her status as a ponygirl? Shouldn’t she be happy now, wasn’t that what she wanted? A return to human life — if that was even possible? She pawed her hooves uncertainly. “But then she’d have to take me with her,” Grall said, some colour returning to his face. “You played a dirty trick on both of us when you kept the truth from us. You’re my father, but I don’t know if I can forgive you.” Oozol stared at him with wide eyes. “It was necessary, and yet only for your own good…” “We’re not children, you had no right to keep it a secret. If you think I’m going to let Izzy down again, you’re wrong. We’ll never part again. I’d rather leave you behind than Izzy.” Oozol didn’t answer for a long time, but Izzy realised that Grall’s words had affected him deeply. Good. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say in the end, but it was enough. His slumped figure was clear evidence to Izzy that he really meant it. “What now?” “Now Izzy can decide what she wants to be in the future. No more lies. No more secrets,’ Grall demanded, his voice become a little firmer. She swallowed. So Grall was still serious. She was human again, at least for the goblins on this farm. There was a way back from a trap that really knew no exit. All she had to do was turn around and go home. To her father and a life full of… nothing. Just like the last few days. The freedom she had been willing to give up everything she had known in her life suddenly seemed so empty and unimportant compared to what she had gained in the last few weeks. As difficult as it was to describe, she had often enjoyed the intimate closeness with Grall. He was, undoubtedly, her best friend, and this summer she had become closer to him than ever before. And if she was really honest with herself, there was no coming back from that. The fear for him had almost killed her, and she would never leave him alone again. From now on, she would always be by his side. That strange feeling in her stomach came over her again, which must have been like a mother seeing her sick child, but in the end it didn’t matter. She would protect him in the future. Always. Something inside her head shifted; a change that was probably visible from the outside, as all the goblins were watching her closely. None of them made a sound. “Am I right, Izzy?” asked Grall. She plucked up all her courage. This was a big step — not the first, but the last in a long line that began innocently. But this was her choice, and unlike before, she was surprisingly lucid. She even took some time for her emotions to slowly subside. What remained was a deep sense of peace and the knowledge that her life had a clear purpose from now on. This time she would not be tempted by rush or pressure; this was a choice of her heart and mind. “Buttercup,” she said without remorse. “What did you say?” asked Oozol. “My name is Buttercup,” she repeated louder and smiled mischievously. A heavyweight fell from her heart and she felt her shoulders lift of their own accord. She straightened her back and looked Grall straight in the eye. “My name is Buttercup. It was my mother’s name too, and it’s the name my…” she hesitated briefly, but the warmth in Mexi’s look gave her the strength she needed. “… my owner gave me. Grall, you knew how important the name would be to me — how important it is to me.” Buttercup’s words were followed by a moment of complete silence. Everyone was aware of what had just happened, but none of them dared to disturb the moment. It belonged only to her and Grall, who looked deep into each other’s eyes without blinking, reaching into the furthest corners of their souls. Then Grall pressed his arms against the bedstead and lifted himself out of bed with renewed vigour. Like an awakening — albeit tiny — giant, he stretched his cracking bones and heaved himself onto his wobbly legs. “A miracle!” exclaimed Pexo, who had gathered with the other grooms around the house, and Oozol patted him on the back approvingly. Grall’s father seemed to be searching for the right words, but he couldn’t manage more than a faint whisper. “What saddle do you have on your back, it’s not mine, is it?” asked Grall, whose eyes were not yet fully open. “Your god gave it to me. It belonged to my mum, I brought you home with it,” Buttercup explained, and although that shouldn’t really make any sense, the goblins nodded. “A ponygirl for a ponygirl,” Oozol stammered quietly, and his eyes lit up briefly like the stars in the night sky. Grall took a step forward and almost fell, but Mexi caught him in time. But the young goblin was not ready to go back to bed, his goal was clearly in front of him. He put another foot forward and slowly found his rhythm with the following steps. While Buttercup feared that Oozol was right and that she was torturing him more than helping him with her presence, Grall reached the door frame and held on tight. His face was already quite green again and his ears were sticking up. “Brother, you’re up!” squeaked Saxea, who had just ridden up on Sunshine. She jumped over Sunshine’s head, rolled across the ground and hugged Grall so tightly that Buttercup was afraid it would put the goblin under the ground for good. But Saxea probably knew the limits and let go of her brother before it was too late, giving him a kiss on the cheek. She only had a cold shoulder for Buttercup, however, and Buttercup couldn’t blame her. Sunshine, on the other hand, had that special look she always gave Buttercup when she was about to throw her life away. But here and now it didn’t matter. This was her decision and Sunshine would have to accept it. But Grall still wasn’t done, he pushed away from the door frame and took three quick steps towards Buttercup, who stood up in surprise. She couldn’t catch him with her bound hands, but she didn’t need to. “Careful!” she shouted, but Grall stopped in front of her and purposefully got to his knees. He just gave her a cheeky smile, then bent down and kissed her hooves to the astonished “Oooh…” of the goblins. Buttercup was speechless, too — goblins didn’t do that, at least not ones in their right mind. Perhaps the injury had robbed him of his mind after all? “Don’t look at me like that,” said Grall after he had pulled himself to his feet again — with Buttercup, his horse, to support him. “She did it to me, too. Equal rights for everyone!” “Equal rights for everyone,” Buttercup confirmed and did the same. “Two to one in my favour.” The goblins laughed. Meanwhile, Sunshine had trotted over to Buttercup and pressed herself against her. Saxea looked at the two of them thoughtfully, then a decision seemed to have formed in her little head. She went to Sunshine, knelt down in front of the surprised horse and gave her hoof boots a kiss too. Sunshine looked wide-eyed at the little girl, but for that day at least, she left it at that and laid her head on the girl’s shoulder instead. Saxea seemed happy with this too, she stroked Sunshine’s mane and they both observed the situation in silence. “So you’re going to stay with me then?” asked Grall, although he certainly already knew the answer. “If I leave you alone, you’ll catch another knife.” Buttercup giggled, but immediately became more serious. “But I demand some changes!” She ignored the loud snort from Oozol. Grall, on the other hand, tilted his head and listened. “Firstly, I want no more public flogging of ponygirls. You’ll find a better way, I’m sure.” Oozol nodded, and for a brief blink Buttercup was sure he was relieved too. “Besides, all stables get a bed!” At this point Grall laughed. “No.” “No?” Buttercup asked in surprise. She had expected resistance to the whipping, but not to the beds. “Whipping is cruel, but beds would remind most ponygirls of a life that’s behind them. I’d give you one, of course, but then everyone else would be unhappy. Counter-suggestion: a lot more soft straw and a blanket. We’ll also heat the stables better in winter.” Oozol wanted to say something, but Grall put a finger over his mouth. “I won’t give you a choice.” Buttercup looked at him thoughtfully, then nodded. “It’s a deal. I’d shake your hands, but you know why I can’t.” “Good, I guess that makes you officially my ponygirl again. But you don’t have to worry, the brand is off the table.” He looked at her and noticed a strange gleam in her eye. “What’s going on? You can tell me anything, really.” “About the brand… it terrified me, and still does, but… when the knife hit you, I thought of my mother, and her prince…” “And I’m your prince?” He grinned broadly and straightened up. “You’re my little twat who’s ruining everything with his silliness.” Buttercup stomped angrily, but a smile flitted across her face nonetheless. “If you still want it, you can do it.” Grall’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. “You want to wear my brand?” “What else do you want to hear, should I beg for it?” He waved it off. “No, I just wanted to make sure. Do you know why it’s so important to me?” “Because it shows on my bum that you own me,” Buttercup replied. “That’s important too, it will look great on your bottom. But we goblins also say that it creates an almost magical bond between rider and horse, at least if both want it equally. We’ll see if that’s true.” The uncertainty was gone from his step and he almost looked like her best friend from days gone by: young, lively and with a childish grin on his face that carried him through the day. Buttercup’s heart warmed, almost as much as her ass would shortly. It was only for her that he jumped off the brink of death once more; her presence alone gave him new courage to face life. Oozol patted Buttercup on the butt. “That’s a great decision. I’m proud of you. We’ll send someone to the blacksmith, I’m sure he’ll have time for us tomorrow.” Buttercup shook his head. “It has to be now. I might not have the courage tomorrow. Please, we have to do it right away.” “We have a fire burning at the back, but it’s not near enough to the rack, the brand would be cold before we get to you,” Oozol warned. “I don’t need a rack — I’ll stand very still, I promise,” Buttercup said, recognising the doubt in the goblins. “Really!” “It’s extraordinarily painful,” Oozol warned, and Sunshine agreed with him, whinnying. “We all believe you mean it, but you can’t know how you’ll react when you feel the brand on your skin.” She flinched and jumped a little to the side when something icy cold touched her bottom. Grall stood next to her and held the brand in his hand, laughing loudly. “Why is it so cold?” she asked angrily. “It was on my chest the whole time. Now you know how bad it was for me,” Grall said thoughtfully, before smiling again. “But you don’t have to worry, it’ll be a lot warmer soon, then it won’t be a problem.” Buttercup rolled her eyes and, after a “Tack!” she got down on her knees for him so that he could climb into the saddle. She could still feel a slight tremor in his grip, but there was little else left of the half-dead goblin. She wanted to get going, but Grall stopped her. “First the horse bit and the reins,” he warned, and put them in her mouth. Buttercup neighed. “The saddle is really comfortable and it fits like a glove. Now I really feel like a prince on his mare.” Oozol muttered in agreement. “She looks frighteningly like her mother, they could be sisters, the clothes fit her accordingly.” Buttercup shuddered at the words, but she felt the bond with her mother again. She was wearing her saddle and bridle, and had a beloved young goblin on her back; it must have felt the same with the prince. She could almost feel her mother beside her — accompanying her daughter on the way to the brand, giving her strength and almost audibly encouraging her. Buttercup felt nothing but peace and calm at that moment, despite the pain that awaited her. “Are you really sure?” asked Grall again, and Buttercup nodded; everyone realised that her stubbornness would win out in this case. “Get a table so that the height is right,” Oozol ordered and the whole courtyard got moving. The news spread and Pexo even opened the doors of the stables so that all the horses could come out and watch the spectacle. The goblins in the yard clapped loudly and some of the ponygirls stamped their hooves, while others just shook their heads at Buttercup. But none of that was important, this was all about her and Grall, even the laws of the goblins didn’t matter. She could have left if she had wanted to, but instead she marched with her head held high towards the table, next to which a large fire was blazing. At the sight of the table she paused briefly; the repaired cracks were still clearly visible, even the rough wood had hardly changed, she could almost feel the splinters on her skin again. This table had introduced her to the harsh realities of a ponygirls life, and now it would accompany her as she completed this journey. Grall steered her right next to the fire, which bathed his surroundings in a flickering orange light. The warmth spread like a mist and made Buttercup shiver. The young goblin jumped out of the saddle full of energy and it seemed as if he had never been ill; only the wound on his shoulder was a reminder of the past days. “You look well again,” Oozol said with moist eyes and hugged his boy. “Our God banished you from the realm of the dead so that you could do what we were created to do. And Buttercup, what she was born for.” Buttercup neighed, and Grall took the horse bit out of her mouth. “Have you changed your mind?” “No, but we always talk about the god of the goblins, but what’s his name anyway?” All the goblins laughed at the same time. “He doesn’t have a name,” Grall explained. “He doesn’t need one either. He is our god. That’s all that matters. Would you give a river a name if there was only one? That would be useless. He is our God, we know that.” “But how do you know he exists?” Grall looked deep into her eyes. “Isn’t it enough proof for you that you’re standing here in front of the fire with your mother’s saddle, willing to be marked with my brand? Every ponygirl is dedicated to him.” Buttercup bit her lower lip. ‘You want to dedicate me to your god? Oozol chimed in. “We don’t have to, you were already when you were born; and it obviously worked. You were the foal of a ponygirl, it was only right to do it directly. Today was destined for you.” Grall beckoned Buttercup down to him, he took her head in his hands and looked at her seriously. “Are you completely sure you want to do this? No one is forcing you. If you want, I’ll take your gear off you, find you a dress and take you back to your father in a cart. We’d all never talk about what happened again and you’d go back to being a young woman who could do whatever she wanted.” “Just like that? Why couldn’t you do that before?” “Because my son makes it easier than it is. But if we talk to the village, give people plenty of expensive gifts and do a few things I’d rather not elaborate on now… let’s put it this way: it’s hard, but it could be possible. But it remains very risky, and if it fails, you might become the property of a stranger.” Buttercup snorted. “Thank you, but I’ve made up my mind. I want it this way!” That was the truth. Still, it felt good to have the choice, it made this moment truly meaningful. Something fundamental had changed for Buttercup with Grall’s attack at Pelkor’s forge: He had risked his life for her — because he feared for her, not because he wanted his ponygirl back. Life as a ponygirl had brought Buttercup closer to Grall than all the years before. And she wasn’t willing to give that up, even if the price was a saddle and a horse bit. “I better not regret it later!” “Are you sure?” “Not if you wait any longer.” Buttercup hissed and gave Grall a light push. At first, she feared that she had overdone it and that he wasn’t strong enough yet and would fall, but he made a sidestep and stuck his tongue out at her. With a mischievous grin, he placed the brand in the fire and watched intently as the metal slowly changed from an ashen grey to a fiery red glow. The coal crackled and shared its burning heat with the metal that in a few moments would turn Buttercup forever and irreversibly into Grall’s ponygirl. She might already be on paper, but this was more personal, more real — more important. Buttercup lay down on the table, trembling, feeling the first splinters digging under her skin; but compared to what was about to happen, it was unimportant and almost enjoyable. “How much longer?” “In a minute, just a minute more,” said Oozol, moving to her side. “We have to put your horse bit back in or you’ll bite your tongue. You may think you’re strong, but this pain will overwhelm you.” He pressed the horse bit into her open mouth and stroked her cheek sympathetically. “Don’t be afraid, we’ll take good care of you. Just one more little thing.” He snapped his fingers and Pexo brought him Buttercup’s ponytail. She shivered at the sight, even though she was used to it by now, it remained strange to have it inserted in front of so many spectators, but she offered no resistance as Oozol pushed it into her ass. The welcome feeling of fullness returned and Buttercup neighed softly. Although Buttercup had voluntarily laid down on the table, she was growing tense. Everyone could see her trembling and her hands twitching under the saddling. Lisande and Sunshine also noticed and ran to the table, where they lay down on the table opposite Buttercup and pressed their heads against her to her left and right. They both knew the pain, and Buttercup was grateful for the gesture. “Just one more thing. It’s a bit silly, but probably the only thing Pelkor had done right,” Grall said, but Buttercup didn’t understand. She was about to look at him, but then she felt a cold, round piece of metal between her legs. It was a coin, and Grall nonchalantly inserted it deep into Buttercup. His fingers lingered a little longer and more restlessly than necessary, but it was also a welcome change from the growing fear of the brand. She neighed, but Grall just smirked. “Something from your mum for your big day. You mustn’t move under any circumstances,” he said and Buttercup closed her eyes. She felt the rough wood beneath her, the warmth of the two ponygirls comforting her, heard the rapid breathing of everyone present as they waited anxiously for the big moment — and felt the burning heat of the brand as it approached her bottom. It took all her strength not to flinch, even though she knew how terrible the coming pain would be. Or rather, she thought she knew. The fire that kissed her bare bottom burned hotter than the surface of the sun itself. The terrible hiss as the iron touched her skin echoed throughout the yard, breaking the silence and causing all onlookers to inhale sharply. Even the experienced grooms and ponygirls, who had seen it all dozens of times before, didn’t say a word. Never before had a horse offered itself voluntarily without being secured, and nobody knew what would happen. They waited anxiously for Buttercup’s reaction. Many dozens of pairs of eyes were fixed on the table, the brand, and Buttercup as the iron dug deeper into her hide. At first, it only seared the hair, then it coloured the top layer of skin midnight black. The skin rippled and receded before the red-hot metal, which continued to eat into it under Grall’s focussed gaze and steady hand. “You’re doing very well. Keep still,” Grall praised and guided the brand further into Buttercup’s skin. It almost sank into the flesh like ice, melting under the heat. “It’s almost over, hold on a little longer!” Buttercup’s jaw pressed with all her strength against the horse’s teeth, whose wood cracked softly. Her whole head shook with exertion as she whimpered loudly. Only the proximity to Lisande and Sunshine, both of whom were also howling softly, gave her the strength not to jump up. For Buttercup, the whole world consisted only of the pain on her bottom — and a friendly face that she saw smiling down at her against the blackness of her closed eyes. At first, she thought it was her own face, but the woman was a little older and her posture was tighter and a little more refined. Her lips moved, but no sound came out, and yet Buttercup understood every word: “That’s a good girl. Keep still. Take good care of your goblin. I love you.” The coin inside Buttercup glowed at the words. The pain ended as quickly as it had come; the change took Buttercup from her thoughts and her mother vanished. Grall withdrew the brand and dropped it carelessly into the dirt. “Careful, or you’ll break the brand,” his father warned, but Grall waved it away. “I don’t need it any more. Buttercup will remain the only horse that carries my mark. She will always be with me — if anyone wants to see the mark, let them look at her bum.” Buttercup slowly dared to open her eyes again at the feeling of cold ointment on her rump. The two ponygirls at her side looked at her expectantly, and Buttercup gave them a pained smile. She turned her head over her shoulder and dared to have a quick look at the brand, but the ointment covered the scar completely. She would probably have to wait a little longer to see it for herself. But in the end it wasn’t for her anyway, it was just something that shouted her belonging to Grall to the world for the rest of her life. “Good horse,” praised Grall. “When it’s healed, we’ll fill the brand with colour, then it will be even easier to see. Every goblin and every human should know immediately that you are mine.” He seemed very pleased with the words, even if Buttercup only rolled her eyes. Still, she couldn’t deny to herself that this idea also gave her a deep sense of comfort. “Just one more thing, then we’re done.” Buttercup neighed questioningly, but Grall — of course — didn’t take the horse bit out of her mouth. Why should he, she was his horse, and even as his best friend, the horse bit was in its rightful place. Grall waved Mexi over, who had been watching everything with wide eyes from a safe distance. At her side stood Albaea, who was shaking back and forth in complete disarray. Buttercup gave the agitated mare a grin that calmed her down a little. The goblin girl rummaged in her pocket and handed Grall two golden rings, which Buttercup recognised immediately. Mexi asked the question that was also on the tip of Buttercup’s tongue: “Are you sure?” “Absolutely,” Grall replied without hesitation. “I wouldn’t sell her anyway. She’ll stay with me forever. So why shouldn’t we make it official then? Do you agree?” Izzy nodded, but Grall just grinned. “I already knew that, but your father should say something about this too.” Matheus stood on the sidelines, watching his daughter with a look that was difficult to interpret. “I’m probably a little late, but an old man is not a ponygirl. Anyway; I approve. Izzy wants it too, so I agree.” Grall shooed the two other ponygirls aside and stood directly in front of Buttercup, who barely dared to look him in the eye. He held the golden nose ring and waited until Buttercup stretched out a little towards him. “It’ll only hurt for a moment,” he said. The pain was a breeze compared to the brand, but it still felt strange to have something hanging on her face now. It was even more humiliating than the brand, because now everyone would recognise her status just by looking at her face. But Grall was overjoyed, while Mexi slipped the counterpart over his finger. “Now you are goblin and horse,” she quipped excitedly, and Buttercup smirked. Albaea was also beside herself with joy, racing wildly across the courtyard and jumping in the air, making Sunshine roll her eyes. “But don’t worry, I won’t stand in your way when it comes to stallions,” said Grall and winked, while Buttercup turned bright red and immediately looked at Titan, who had been watching everything closely from his stable and neighed contentedly. One more horse for his harem was certainly not unwelcome. The ring marked the end of Buttercup’s journey from a young woman born to a ponygirl to her own life with a horse bit in her mouth and a saddle on her back — to her own surprise, she was happy with it. She was Buttercup. Grall’s ponygirl. Now. And forever. Epilogue “Good morning, Buttercup,” called a little girl, waving cheerfully. “Where are you going?” Buttercup slowed down a little. Although it was already autumn, the still pleasant temperatures allowed her to spend a little time outside without freezing in place. “Grall sent me out to get a few things from the village shop,” she replied, pointing with a brief gesture of her head to her empty saddle. “Your owner let you wander around on your own?” “He trusts me,” Buttercup said with a certain pride in her voice; in the past she would have been terribly embarrassed by the question alone, but as a horse it no longer bothered her. Besides, the question was justified, after all it was quite unusual, most ponygirls weren’t allowed to go a single meter without a goblin. Grall, on the other hand, really did trust her, but nothing else was to be expected between good friends. “Besides, he knows I’ve had enough of the outside world for now.” She would have liked to wave back at the girl, but of course, her arms were still tied under the saddle. This was completely normal for Buttercup, she had last used her arms months ago, but as a ponygirl there was nothing they were needed for, apart from the fact that she sometimes liked to scratch herself. A small wind came up and drove her along the road a little faster. Unlike before, she no longer bothered to avoid the more crowded paths. Everyone had seen her as a horse by now anyway, and her belonging to Grall was well known. Shame was not a good quality for a ponygirl, she had realised by now, and many of the villagers had also become accustomed to her. If she was lucky, a few of the people along the way — goblins as well as humans — would give her a few treats as snacks. Grall often mocked that she would get fat from it, but that was unlikely with all her running; it was probably more of a small distraction from his own belly, which she had also contributed to with her service to him. As was so often the case when she was travelling alone on Grall’s behalf, she didn’t have to wear a horse bit, as there was no one in her saddle to steer her. However, her ponytail and hoof boots remained part of her outfit, which was rounded off by the colourful brand on her bottom. The scar was unmistakable, but the colour tattooed deep into the skin with fine needles made it look even more magnificent. There was no one far and wide who wouldn’t immediately recognise that Buttercup was Grall’s horse — his only one, as everyone knew. The tattoo was a little less painful than the brand, but it was still strange for her to have such a colourful mark on her rump for her whole life. But that was just the way it was for ponygirls. — As always, the village was a hive of activity. Autumn required great effort to get everything ready for winter. The farmers’ ponygirls in particular had a lot to do, and Buttercup was once again glad that her owner didn’t make such harsh demands on her; compared to a draught horse, her life was luxurious and relaxed. Nevertheless, a few of the people handed her treats and stroked her head. It was unmistakable that she was just an animal here in the village, but as strange as that had felt at first, Buttercup felt quite comfortable in the role now. Most humans and goblins were simply nicer to animals than to humans, even if the animals walked upright and some could even speak. However, Buttercup had also quickly learnt that most of them preferred their animals mute. Whenever she said something, people looked at her a little strangely, as if she had broken an unspoken rule, or unintentionally reminded them that ponygirls were women after all. Accordingly, she now preferred to keep quiet in the village, enjoying the treats and having her head scratched when people felt like it. Today, however, she had a job to do and it was important for her to prove her usefulness. The village shop was right in the centre of the main square, and so she headed there, with only the absolutely necessary detours to a couple of old ladies with the best and tastiest little treats. Once these had been properly devoured, she stopped in front of the shop and kicked a small bell on the horse post that had been placed there just for her. She had no other choice, as she knew the sign on the shop door well: “No access for animals of any kind — including ponygirls!” In the past, she had only smiled at the sign when she had done some shopping for her father, but now it applied to her and the shop was taboo for her, as were most other shops and pubs. Ponygirls had to wait outside or in the stables, even those who were once regular customers. “Isabel!” shouted Mr Sigismer, who was actually the watchmaker in the village. But he also ran the village shop as a side business — or actually, it was the other way around, a village needed much more general merchandise than watches, but his pride probably demanded that he saw himself as a watchmaker. He slapped his stomach in satisfaction. ‘The order is already completed. “Buttercup,” she corrected him, knowing full well that he was only having a bit of fun with her. “Of course, a good name for such a splendid mare. I’m just surprised you haven’t got a round belly yet.” He climbed down the small staircase with two pouches and pricked Buttercup’s belly with his little finger. Buttercup jumped back in surprise and suddenly turned red. “Don’t worry, he’ll find a good stallion for you.” “We have Titan on the farm,” Buttercup said, before realising that wasn’t a good answer. “Then I hope you have fun with him.” Now Buttercup’s ears were also glowing the finest shade of red. “Are these the things for Grall?” she quickly diverted before she sank completely into the ground. “Right, both bags are for him. Don’t give the little bag to anyone else, do you understand? It’s only for your owner.” With that, he reached to her bosom and unfastened the small pouch dangling between her breasts, where Grall had put the money for the purchase. The man’s fingers brushed her skin, and Buttercup knew damn well that it wasn’t an accident, and that Grall had put the pouch there for that very purpose. A few months ago she would have smacked the man for it, but now not only were her hands tied behind her back, she actually didn’t mind. It was one of the perks of being a ponygirl that touch had an entirely different meaning. His fingers were rough and pleasant, and she couldn’t resist pressing against them a little. “You really need a stallion. I need to talk to your owner about this.” He patted her on the bum and sent her off again. “Thanks,” Buttercup said, and she wasn’t sure herself whether that was for the shopping or for the pat. — The way back was uneventful but pleasant. Few ponygirls enjoyed the same freedom as she did, but they weren’t volunteers either, after all, though that made no difference to her by now. There was no doubt that she was legally the property of Grall, and she would be returned if she ran away. It wasn’t the life she had imagined as a little girl, but it certainly had its perks. She had often worried about her future, but now she had no worries at all. Grall would deal with such problems, she only had to serve him as a mount and was otherwise allowed to ignore all the little miseries of the world. It was liberating and quite enjoyable. She continued along the path and passed the large horse paddock where her friends were already playing together. Although they were all — including Buttercup — actually too old for it, it seemed quite normal for ponygirls to play catch like little girls again, and to have fun for hours in the most ridiculous way in the paddock. Even Sunshine and Lisande, who were still rather grumpily accepting their existence as ponygirls, were completely unfettered and carefree in this respect. Buttercup called out to them and all three — Sunshine, Lisande and Albaea — came running to greet her, Albaea in particular almost tripping over the fence with joy. The other ponygirls weren’t wearing saddles, but as usual, their hands were tied behind their backs and they had horse bits in their mouths, which made conversation a little difficult. But Buttercup had learnt well by now how to carry on a conversation with just a look. “Just a little shopping for Grall,” Buttercup explained in response to Sunshine’s questioning look, who rolled her eyes in return. Buttercup knew the mare’s opinion that if they were going to be used as animals, the goblins should at least be there. But maybe it was just because she liked spending time with Saxea — as evidenced by the nose ring. It had only taken a few weeks after Buttercup’s brand for Sunshine to get down on one knee for her goblin. Now she wore two brands: Oozol’s farm’s, and Saxeas personal one. Buttercup was still surprised that Sunshine had given herself up for this, but sometimes things were more complicated than they looked at first. The path led along the fence to Oozol’s farm, and so all four of them arrived at the gate together. “You’re back quickly,” called Pexo and welcomed Buttercup. “No distance is too great for a fast horse,” she praised herself, and Pexo shrugged briefly. Like most goblins, he still had a hard time with a talking horse, but Grall had insisted that she be allowed to — as the only one. At first, the other grooms had objected, but by now Grall was officially co-owner of the farm, and therefore their superior, so it was accepted with a grumble. At least by the grooms who had stayed; Gribat and a few others couldn’t and wouldn’t accept that the harsh whipping of horses was forbidden. “Where’s Grall?” “He’ll be here soon. Wait, I’ll take the groceries off your saddle.” “But not the little bag!” she said sharply. “That’s only for Grall.” Pexo flinched briefly. “If that’s what you want. Who am I to disagree with the owner’s mare.” He threw his arms up in the air dramatically, then slapped Buttercup’s bum with vigour before she could dodge. It was a game between the two of them, and this time she hadn’t seen it coming. She stuck her tongue out at him, but before she could answer, Grall came walking up with Mexi, Saxea and his father. “Just at the right time. Pexo, take the big bag, then saddle the other horses. We want to go for a little ride.” “What’s in…,” Buttercup began and leant forward, but Grall just put a finger over her mouth and silenced her. “You’ll find out soon enough.” She opened her mouth for another question, but Grall just stuck the horse bit in her mouth and brought her to her knees with a “Tack!” She grumbled slightly, but stopped immediately when he gave her a light tap with the whip. It wasn’t a nasty gesture, just a rider’s reminder to his horse that it had to behave. Before Grall could mount, Mexi ran past him and jumped into Buttercup’s saddle. “It’s my turn today!” she squealed and gave Buttercup a little kick to get her up. Grall just managed to grab the bag. Buttercup neighed confused, but Mexi seemed determined. “It’s about time Albaea got another rider. Come on, you get used to it.” With that, she steered Izzy with a light hand to her mare and scratched her head. “Grall is clumsy, but you’ll survive.” Albaea puffed discontentedly, but then she got down on her knees for Grall, who hurriedly climbed into her saddle. Buttercup’s stomach tightened. She didn’t particularly like it when Grall rode another horse — jealousy was probably the right name for it — but at least in this case it was a good friend. Saxea climbed into Sunshine’s saddle and Oozol also went to his horse. He kissed Lisande on the forehead and then climbed into her saddle. The mare was the only one of the friends not yet wearing a nose ring, and Oozol had made it clear that he would not force the issue, but it was an open secret how much he loved his horse. Although Oozol generally had a rather practical and matter-of-fact view of the ponygirls, Lisande had some special liberties with him, which the mare occasionally took advantage of. — The ride was gentle and rather slow, even though Mexi was still an unusual rider for Buttercup. The goblin girl was a lot gentler than Grall, and also a little lighter. What’s more, she had never received so many cuddles on a single ride before; something Buttercup could certainly get used to. Albaea, on the other hand, kept looking longingly over at Mexi, much to Grall’s annoyance. Apart from that, the four horses enjoyed the slow walk and listened to the goblins sitting on top of their saddles while their horses did the work. Everything was as it should be, it seemed; one of the last opportunities of the year to go out together before the weather turned. The trees had already lost many of their leaves and the birds had become quieter, but here and now the eight of them were happy, especially with each other. The four ponygirls let their eyes wander as they followed their reins purely on instinct, but then Buttercup stopped abruptly. “What’s wrong?” Mexi asked without even reaching for the whip. “You have to keep going.” But Grall was a little more receptive to his mare’s mood, he followed her gaze and he too snorted in surprise. On the path ahead of them, a ponygirl came running up, pulling a heavy cart. They all recognised her immediately, or rather, the girl she had once been. “Grunhilda,” he marvelled aloud, and Buttercup nodded in agreement; it was the mean girl from Buttercup’s old school. She was naked like all ponygirls, had a registration number on her somewhat small boob and a huge ponytail in her butt. There was also a particularly large and nasty brand on her rump. Various rings all over her body labelled her as a farm animal for field work and, as Buttercup had to admit, she had become visibly stronger in the meantime. But none of this explained why she was a ponygirl in the first place. Buttercup looked to Oozol, who most likely knew the answer. “So she’s arrived,” the old goblin said thoughtfully. “The second girl from our village to become a ponygirl.” Buttercup neighed. Had Grunhilda become an animal voluntarily? No, that was unthinkable. She had heard about the girl’s disappearance, but what had happened? “Come on, let’s ride on. I’ll explain later.” The four ponygirls rode close to Grunhilda and their riders greeted the coachman. He saluted back briefly and gave his horse a swat on the bum with a nasty whip to make her run faster. As Buttercup realised, this was probably a frequent occurrence; Grunhilda’s bottom was already covered in welts. Their eyes met, and Buttercup immediately lost all sympathy. Even as a horse, Grunhilda was still unbearable. She lifted her nose high into the air — as far as the reins would allow — and pretended that even now, she was still better than Buttercup. How silly, and unbefitting for a horse, Buttercup thought, but she left it at that. They were both animals of the goblins, controlled by their masters with reins — now and for all time to come. Their bottoms learned the language of the whip and their arms were only useful for stabilising saddles; whatever Grunhilda thought of Buttercup, it was completely meaningless. The goblins steered their horses a little further, and even through one of the neighbouring villages, where the rest of the story about Grunhilda slowly unravelled. A small gathering of humans and goblins had gathered in the main square. As Buttercup quickly realised, there was a good reason for all the curiosity: A tall human stood in the centre, a middle-aged man in fine clothes, holding a short leash that ended at the collar of a goblin. This time, even the goblins were shocked; such a thing was completely unusual, and yet it was not the only reason for their surprise: they knew the goblin. It was Kreks! “Sit!” the man ordered and Kreks sat down with his bare bottom on the stone floor. “Give paw!” Kreks obeyed again, although it was visibly difficult for him not to bite the man’s hand. “That’s outrageous,” hissed one of the goblins in the crowd. “Why, you have women for horses, and as it turns out, you goblins make good pets, am I right, Fluffy?” “Yes, master,” grumbled Kreks, or Fluffy, as Buttercup now knew. There was a tail in his butt too, although in this case it was for dogs. The man hit him over the ears with a rolled-up newspaper. “Dogs don’t talk!” Fluffy barked apologetically. “Come on,” said Oozol and steered Lisande past the spectacle. Once they were out of the village, he declared: “So it’s true. After Buttercup had become unattainable for Kreks, he wanted to make another girl his ponygirl. Grunhilda was probably a random victim, the horse catchers from the east paid by Kreks were not picky. But as you know, it is forbidden to catch a girl here. Of course, goblins everywhere catch girls as ponygirls…” Lisande and Sunshine snorted discontentedly. “… but it’s just not allowed to catch girls from your neighbourhood. Kreks thought he could get around that rule with strangers, but that was a mistake.” “Then why is the girl still a ponygirl?” Mexi asked in amazement, partly because she must have read this question in her mount’s eyes. “The horse catchers weren’t guilty of anything, their actions were legal, but Kreks shouldn’t have hired them to catch a local girl. Then he must have tried to bribe a judge. Let’s put it this way: as you could see, it wasn’t a good idea. Although I don’t like that goblins are treated like that.” Now it was Buttercup’s turn to snort angrily, she didn’t like the goblins’ arrogance on this point, as if they were something better. Oozol ignored it. “Be that as it may, Grunhilda was bought back by her family before they understood that she must remain a horse. It seems they’re trying to make up for the loss with labour. I’m sure some farmers could make good use of a loan horse.” Buttercup chuckled softly. So there was justice in the world after all. She looked briefly at Grall and could well imagine him on all fours. The young goblin noticed her gaze and shook his head vigorously, but Buttercup was sure that she would make him do it one day. His ears drooped sleepily, a clear sign that he feared this too. — Mexi gently steered Buttercup to the lake, but none of the goblins dismounted. “It’s a nice place, but why are we here? You don’t do things like this for no reason!” She looked deep into her boyfriend’s eyes, who just smiled mischievously. “I can’t fool you,” Grall replied and steered Albaea right next to Buttercup. The two horses nudged each other’s noses affectionately, as was customary for them by now. Buttercup didn’t like to admit it, but Albaea was her favourite of the three. She was like a little sister, but the good kind, with whom you could share all your secrets and who never stabbed you in the back. Saxea and Oozol were getting visibly nervous in their saddles, as Buttercup suspected they knew what was going to happen, and she suspected it too by now. Only Mexi seemed to be completely unaware. Grall cleared his throat. “Under the stars of the night and the rays of the sun, on the ground of the earth and on the backs of horses…” he began and Mexi’s jaw dropped. As a goblin, she — of course — knew what these words meant. “…we shall always be united. I hereby ask you to become my wife.” He pulled a very finely crafted, wooden necklace from his pocket. While humans favoured metal for their rings, the goblins preferred a material that connected them more strongly with life and nature. Nevertheless, Buttercup recognised immediately that this necklace must have been expensive, surely the merchant had had to get it from far away. Mexi jumped around in the saddle and Buttercup could only grin. It was wonderful to see how happy the girl was. Grall was also visibly relieved. “What should I do?” Mexi asked, overwhelmed. “It’s customary for you to say yes if you want to.” “YES!” Mexi shouted and jumped into Grall’s saddle on Albaea, who had tears in her eyes but stood still for her owner while the two goblins kissed in her saddle. But not only Albaea had tears in her eyes, Oozol and Saxea were also crying slightly, and as Buttercup herself realised with some surprise, her cheeks were wet, too. She pressed herself against Albaea and the goblins gave their horses a few kisses. — The wedding was lavish and opulent. It wasn’t the first celebration of its kind Buttercup had seen among the goblins, but it was the first that lasted so many days. Oozol didn’t hold back, and neither did Mexi’s parents, so it was probably the biggest celebration the village had ever seen. Albaea and Buttercup, as Mexi and Grall’s horses, were of course deeply involved in the ceremonies, but Buttercup soon realised that it went a little further than she had suspected. Not only was it her job to pull the beautiful wedding carriage, she was also an important part of the wedding itself. When a goblin had a horse of their own, Buttercup learnt, it was customary to incorporate it into the ceremony as the couple saw fit. In this case, Grall and Mexi chose to have their wedding day tattooed directly on the horses’ still-free bosoms. Buttercup would have been only too happy to do without this, but as a horse, it was her duty to serve her owner. She held out bravely as the number was slowly inked under her skin. — After the wedding carriage had arrived back at the farm, Grall released the two mares, but had them saddled immediately. Buttercup nodded to him knowingly; they had discussed what was to follow days ago. It was customary to give something personal to a wedding couple, but as Buttercup owned nothing as an animal, she had had to think long and hard about what she could offer, after all she was also Grall’s best friend, and wanted to contribute something more than just pulling the carriage or being a memento with a date. That was all important too, but nothing she personally contributed of her own accord. She had briefly considered offering Mexi her other buttock for her brand, but Grall was against it. As much as he loved Mexi, Buttercup was his and his alone. When it came to Buttercup, Grall was still quite possessive, but by now she even liked it, it was good to know that there would always be someone who wanted her with him without ifs and buts. Someone who would even die for it if necessary. “You look stunning,” Grall cooed as he helped Mexi into the saddle. Her dress was impractical and large, but he had insisted. “Where are you taking me? You’re not up to anything naughty, are you?” she asked cheekily, but he just winked. “Lightning shall strike me if I’m well-behaved!” He gave Buttercup a little kick and she took off running. She could feel his nervousness and even some of his excitement — or arousal? — through the saddle. He had got married today and now Mexi was his wife. “I still can’t believe it. She really married me!” he whispered to Buttercup, as if he still couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream. Of course, she couldn’t answer him with the horse bit in her mouth, but she didn’t need to. He gave her a little kick and a few lashes to get her up to speed, with Albaea close on her heels. The ride didn’t go far, their destination was only half an hour away, but that was also because both horses were very fast. Their ride ended in the middle of the forest, in a deep hollow that could not be seen from the outside. It was the perfect place for a goblin: close to nature and yet well protected. Albaea was tied to a tree at the top, but Buttercup descended into the pit with the pair. “What are we doing here?” Mexi asked, giggling, but above all she looked at Buttercup in wonder. “A little surprise. Buttercup couldn’t give us anything… except herself.” As agreed, Grall took the saddle from her, then Buttercup lay down on the soft, damp ground and got ready. There wasn’t really much for her to do, but it was still something very intimate. It wasn’t as if the two goblins had lived a life of abstinence — or cared whether their horses could see them. But this was different. Grall had already slipped out of his clothes and was sitting naked on Buttercup’s stomach. She could feel the heat of his lower body and didn’t have to look to know he was aroused. Mexi needed a little more time, but Grall waited patiently, visibly enjoying every centimetre of skin that slowly emerged. Finally, she lay down with Grall on top of Buttercup and they began an intimate session full of love and passion. Buttercup closed her eyes, but it was impossible to ignore what was happening on her stomach. She felt the rough skin of the two goblins on hers, the heat emanating from their bodies and the movements were unmistakable. The initial slow rhythm and Mexi’s moans made Buttercup’s ears burn, but the goblin girl once again proved to be a good choice by Grall. While Buttercup tried to lie as still as possible, one of Mexi’s toes slowly travelled between Buttercup’s legs, who immediately opened her eyes. A quick glance down was all it took to see Mexi’s wide grin as she shared her pleasure with Buttercup. “That’s really nice,” Mexi moaned. “We should do it like this more often.” She turned her head to the side, stretched and gave Buttercup a deep kiss while Grall was fully focussed on her. — The next few days brought some changes to the farm. Mexi had officially moved in, which meant that Albaea had also found her new home in one of the stables. Buttercup was only too pleased that Albaea spent the first few days with her in the stable. It was nice to have some company in the stable at night, also because Grall was now increasingly busy with Mexi. Only sometimes Albaea was taken to another stable because, as Buttercup quickly realised, the two goblins had taken a liking to her marriage bed. Albaea always seemed truly grateful not to be invited to these occasions; the mare was still visibly irritated from her wedding night. But something else had changed, too: Titan had been taken away. Buttercup looked after him with a broken heart as he climbed onto the carriage and left the farm for good. “It was about time,” explained Grall, who knew exactly what was going on inside his mare. “He wasn’t right for you. You deserve something even better. Besides, he’s sired too many foals already, we need fresh blood.” But Buttercup just snorted; she didn’t care, she liked him! She needed him! Now there were only other mares on the farm, and as much as she liked them, they didn’t help her in this regard. “Don’t look so sad, you’ll get mated eventually.” He chuckled and Buttercup blushed again. “Aren’t you going to say something about that?” She stared at him open-mouthed; of course, she had once again forgotten that she could and was allowed to speak. The horse bit had simply become second nature to her. “Mated…” she snorted, “thank you for your great sense of romance.” “Romance, with a stallion? You’ve been a ponygirl for a while now, where did you get such a stupid idea?” “Besides, who said I wanted that?” “Your eyes, and a few other parts of you. Now don’t tell me you have something against it.” “I’m not ready for a foal yet!” “That’s not a no,” he huffed, earning a nasty look from her. He held out his hand to her and she bowed her head. “You’re my best friend and I love you. Trust me, it’s almost time. It would be a shame not to let a mare as good as you mate.” “Stop saying it like that!” she hissed. Mating… how that sounded. Like an animal! Well, it was appropriate, but that was still no reason to say it like that. “It’s just the right word. You’ll get used to it.” With that, he gave her a very intense kiss. “What if I don’t like the stallion?” Grall laughed again. “You’re not supposed to marry him! All you have to do is put up with him for a few minutes. You can manage that, can’t you?” He winked and left her in the stable. “Have a little faith, I know exactly what you like.” — A few days later, the sun had not yet emerged from behind the Horizon, Pexo fetched Buttercup, still terribly tired, from her stable, but instead of saddling her up for the day as usual, he led her across the yard to Titan’s old stable. Her heart was pounding in her chest, even though she knew full well that the stable was empty. Still, the place smelled like a stallion, and that alone made her bottom burn. “You wait here until we need you,” he said, pushing her in backwards before slamming the door shut. As always, the stable was pitch black, and Buttercup remembered her first time with Titan — even though she was alone, she could still almost feel his presence; his size and the heat of his rough skin. She swallowed and shook the thought away. The straw was fresh and she found a comfortable spot to wait for Grall, who was surely planning another ride with her today. The darkness lulled her and she was back in dreamland before she could hear the cart outside. Even her dreams were those of a ponygirl; she ran across wide meadows with her arms linked, savouring the wind on her bare skin and whinnying to people, goblins, and horses whenever she whizzed past them. It was a beautiful dream that was interrupted by the slamming of the stable door. It took her a moment to get her senses halfway back in order, but even so she instinctively sensed that she was no longer alone in the stable. Whoever it was — and she knew it was male — was too big for a goblin. She straightened up carefully, but the new visitor remained at the door, she could feel it. She took a deep breath and swallowed; it was a stallion, there was no doubt about that. Titan? No, she just knew it wasn’t him. The smell was different, but still familiar. She whinnied softly once, and a deeper neigh was the answer. The top half of the stable door flew open and light flooded the stable. Grall looked in and grinned, but Buttercup’s eyes were fixed only on the stallion. Her heart stopped for a moment, then beat twice as fast, only to tighten a moment later. A thousand thoughts raced in her head, but her lips formed a name around the horse’s bit. Grall shook his head. “He doesn’t have that name any more. Please say hello to Thunder, our new stallion.” Bastian — now Thunder — stood indecisively in the corner, avoiding Buttercup’s gaze. “He’s still a bit shy. As far as I know, he hasn’t been with a mare yet. So it only seemed right for you to help him a little.” Buttercup walked around the stallion and her eyes blazed with countless questions. Her eyes kept darting to Bastian — Thunder — and Grall nodded knowingly. “Don’t you like him?” Buttercup neighed and blushed slightly. “Then it’s all good. He’s part of the farm now, I officially bought him. He was a bit expensive for being so slight, but nothing is too expensive for you. He’ll settle in just fine.” Again Buttercup looked Grall straight in the eye, both knowing he was avoiding the most important question. “It’s… complicated. It’s a crime to help a ponygirl to escape. We didn’t press charges, of course, but some crimes are still prosecuted. He was found guilty, but of course, that alone didn’t make him a stallion. You won’t believe it, but he then volunteered. You must have made quite an impression on him.” Thunder neighed and pranced awkwardly on the spot. His gaze kept jumping to Buttercup, and she could see between his legs that he liked the sight. But it wasn’t enough to really do anything with it yet; the stallion was visibly nervous and she couldn’t blame him. Grall took the horse bit out of her mouth and stroked her head. “You’ll probably need a free mouth, it looks like you’ll have to give him a bit of a boost. You’ll both certainly need a few days practice, I’ll leave you together in the stable for now.” “Don’t say it like that!” hissed Buttercup, who understood exactly what he meant. Grall just laughed and leaned on the door. “Wait, are you going to watch?” “Why the shyness? I have to make sure you two are compatible, don’t I?” Buttercup swallowed. That was just the way it was for a horse, she had understood that quite well by now, and yet there were always moments when her old life briefly reasserted itself in her head and asked a simple question: Is this really the right way? She took a deep breath and pushed the question aside. It certainly wasn’t right for a human, but she wasn’t human any more. She was Grall’s ponygirl, and she was happy with that. He was her best friend, but also her owner. As her boyfriend, he had brought her the man she had dreamed of for so long. But as her owner, he wanted to see her with a foal under her heart. Both were true and right at the same time. There was no contradiction. Besides, she knew full well that a simple “no” would get her out of the stable again. He wouldn’t force her; it was just an offer she couldn’t refuse. Thunder neighed uncertainly. She had almost forgotten him in her thoughts, and now she even felt a little sorry for him. He was good-looking, she had to admit, albeit differently than Titan, who was taller, more muscular, but also a little older. Compared to Titan’s weather-beaten, sharp-edged face, Thunder’s skin was soft and fine-pored, almost like that of a boy. But he was a man, his arousal left no doubt about that. And Buttercup knew what she — as a mare — had to do here. She had a role to play, and she was only too willing to do so. Her whole body trembled, her breasts rose and fell in a rapid rhythm that Thunder watched closely as if hypnotised; he hadn’t looked her in the eye for minutes, and she couldn’t blame him either. His eyes were burning with desire. With swaying hips, she walked to him and nudged him to make him look her in the eye. There was little left of the confident Bastian, here and now Buttercup was in charge. The smile on her face grew as she dropped to her knees in front of him; their gazes remained fixed on each other, and Thunder responded to every little action Buttercup made — a faint blow, her soft tongue, and of course, her whole, warm mouth. His taste and the texture of his hot skin coloured her cheeks a deep red. She had let herself become an animal for Grall, had become his — and even Mexi’s — bed and had shared some intimate moments with them; but this was different, more intense and even more pleasurable. She heard Thunders moan, felt him getting bigger and harder, his hips thrusting into her mouth. She really only wanted to get him in the mood, but she quickly learnt that a stallion in full arousal couldn’t stand a long foreplay. Before she could react, her mouth was filled with his salty-tasting love. His eyes were rolled up, and she didn’t dare pull back until he was finished. She was his mare, and he was the stallion, and just as she had to serve the goblins in one way, she had to serve him in a very different way. It took some time before Thunder was ready for a second round, but Buttercup gave him no choice. She was — one could say — like an animal that couldn’t wait any longer. She went to him again and again and tried to stimulate him, which finally succeeded. She saw the new lust in his eyes, while his intense flavour continued to wander over her tongue. There was a special fire in her gaze, too, as she got down on her knees for him again. But this time, she bent forward and offered herself to him completely. She remembered her experience with Titan, but here there was no chastity belt to protect her. Nothing stood between Thunder and her. He approached her with heavy steps and got down on the floor behind her. His legs pressed against her bottom, he leaned forward and snuggled up to her with his whole body. His hardness first travelled between her legs, as Titan had done, then he aimed again. Buttercup’s whole body trembled. She was ready. With one swift motion — which lacked any romance, but she was clearly ready for him — he penetrated her, and the whole court heard about it at the same moment, thanks to her loud moans. But she didn’t care, neither now nor during the many repetitions on the following days. The love of a horse was no secret. She was sure to be the envy of the other mares. She looked at Grall, who was still watching her. He leaned on the door and watched his best friend complete her journey to becoming a horse. An affectionate smile played around his mouth and he nodded in agreement before closing the stable door completely. The feeling of Thunder deep inside her body overwhelmed Buttercup, it was nothing like the goblins fingers or anything she had experienced before. His thrusts were fast and hard, but that didn’t bother her. Her whole head was spinning as her body was pressed against the floor. Thunder was young and inexperienced, but his passion easily made up for it. The only thing he needed to work on was his stamina. Faster than Buttercup would have liked, she heard his loud moans and felt him come inside her. A thousand thoughts raced through her head as they both struggled for breath. Perhaps this was the moment she had conceived her first foal. They both lay down in the fresh straw and Buttercup felt his sticky love between her legs and looked at him. How many days and nights had she dreamed of him, imagining what her children would look like. Now he was with her, and yet everything was different, but somehow everything was exactly as it should be. Although he was a big fool, he had given up his life for her. Was that so different from what she had done for Grall? Perhaps the reason was more primitive, but he was here now, and if Grall was right, it was only a matter of time before the first offspring would arrive. — “Why does it hurt so damn much?” Buttercup cried. She was lying in the straw of her stable with her mane sticking to her forehead. It had been almost 9 months since the wedding and the night with Thunder, and now it was time to start a new chapter in her life. And like her brand, it was a painful journey. Autumn had been followed by winter, which had been driven out by spring, which had made way for a new summer. But that day it was unusually cold, a frosty wind blew across the yard and blasted the straw from the large square. Nevertheless, the fireplace that warmed their stable — and all the other stables in a similar way — was not in use that day, as the temperatures were still too pleasant for that. In winter, however, the fireplace was fuelled from outside by the grooms, with a tight metal grille preventing the embers from setting the stable on fire. The fire provided a cosy warmth, and for the first time ever, the ponygirls were no longer freezing in their stables even in the deepest snow. Buttercup squirmed in her bed and moaned again. Grall had only promised her a little more straw, but the cheeky little goblin hadn’t told her that he was planning to weave real beds out of the straw, with a large pile of particularly soft straw in the centre. It was amazingly close to a real bed, and Buttercup was grateful for it at the moment. She lay on her soft blanket and cursed. “Push,” said Hersia. The old goblin lady had actually done it and hadn’t died yet out of sheer spite. The desire to really show the others in the village what she was made of was probably like a fountain of youth for the old goblin. She crouched between Buttercup’s legs and waited for her cue. “Try harder, an old woman doesn’t have forever! Keep on squeezing.” With skilful fingers, she removed the tax tag; a small price to pay for a safe delivery, Buttercup would simply receive a new one later. Grall held Buttercup’s head and stroked her cheek. “You’re doing fine, it’ll be over soon.” “Shut up, this is all your fault!” “You liked it,” Grall defended himself, offended. “Or why were you shaking your butt like that? Besides, how else were you supposed to get foals?” “You’re an asshole, Grall, you know that?” Buttercup howled and squeezed again. “Animal abuser!” He rolled his eyes and continued stroking her. “Take my mind off the pain, stupid!” “Do you remember how I rode you through the desert of Erebia? And then through the snow-covered valleys of Setos? I miss that time a bit, we galloped through the world alone for days on end. The things we saw…” “And then we travelled to the nearest village, where you slept in a soft bed while I was chained up in the stable next door. We saw the whole world, and I saw all the stables from here to Poschk.” Buttercup snorted. “Mexi should never have let you go so soon after the wedding.” Grall chuckled. “The people in Poschk had never seen a ponygirl before, and yet you ended up in the stables. You were instantly recognisable as an animal, even to those people.” “They put me with the cows. With the cows!” grumbled Buttercup, but she also had a faint smile on her face. “You didn’t even ask where the milk for your tea came from. And the next time we ride into the desert, you’d better bring enough water for both of us.” “Oh, come on. I’ve shared with you.” “Sharing means you do it before you drink it yourself…” Buttercup suddenly blushed, she still had his flavour on her tongue — she had never expected that she would actually do something like that. “Stop babbling, you’re even worse than your parents,” Hersia snapped. “But don’t worry, Buttercup, the birth is going well, I can already see the head. Push!” That was actually one of Buttercup’s biggest fears. Her mother had lost her life in childbirth; Hersia had been there then too, but the old goblin lady quickly made it clear that things would be different this time. It took a few more painful minutes before she held the little foal in her arms. It was still inconceivable to Buttercup that this child had been born directly into the life of a ponygirl — at least if it was a girl. The boys were often given to humans, only a few remained in the stables as stallions. You simply don’t need that many of them. Buttercup’s heart was still pounding from the birth, but also because that very question was in the air. “It’s a mare!” announced Hersia and Grall cheered. Buttercup wanted to reach for her child, but Hersia passed it to Grall — the owner — first. “I’ll call her Blossom,” said Grall, smiling at the little girl. “You’re naming her without asking me?” complained Buttercup. “That’s the tradition. She’s mine because you’re mine, and as her owner I have to give her a name. Besides, it’s a nice name. Unless you want me to name her Buttercup too, like her mother and grandmother.” Buttercup looked thoughtfully at the back of the stable and her mother’s ponygirl gear that hung there. That was the name that had started her ponygirl journey, and therein lay the problem; this child should be allowed to go her own way, but the name Buttercup would never allow that. “No, don’t do that. Now give me my daughter.” Grall carefully placed the child on her chest. The stable door flew open and the father came in — or rather, he was led in by Oozol. Thunder knelt next to Buttercup and looked at the child with wide eyes. Oozol crossed his arms. “It’s not usual for the stallion to have contact with the foal, but we’ll make an exception in this case. Thunder, say hello to… what’s her name?” “Blossom,” Buttercup said, grumbling softly, partly because she actually really liked the name; it suited a human and a ponygirl. Still, she didn’t want to give Grall the satisfaction of admitting that right away. “Say hello to Blossom.” Oozol himself looked lovingly at the child, and he gave Thunder the time he needed. Buttercup was still puzzled that Bastian of all people had allowed himself to be made a stallion, but by now she was fine with that. He was a good stallion, always ready and usually quite gentle. He was also very popular with the other ponygirls, and at that very moment there were a dozen or so ponygirls with round bellies standing in their stables. Buttercup wasn’t jealous, it was just part of the ponygirl life. Her journey had changed a lot in the village: while it had previously been unthinkable for a girl from the village to become a ponygirl, humans and goblins had now become accustomed to it. Another girl had followed her, apart from Grunhilda. Buttercup had often seen her pulling a plough while working in the fields and admired the many red welts on her bottom. Things had also changed at school. After Grunhilda had become a horse, Mrs Flinchel had hastily resigned from her job and moved out of the area. Buttercup had never asked Grall about it, but whenever the woman’s name was mentioned, something sparkled in his eyes. But there was one important difference between Buttercup and the other ponygirls who had stood pregnant in their stables, nervously listening to the birth of Blossom: Their foals would one day be sold so that the farm could exist, but Blossom — and all of Buttercup’s other children — would always be the property of Grall and his offspring; that was guaranteed by Buttercup’s nose ring, and the ring on Grall’s finger, but it was also a firm promise that Grall had made to her. This union and this promise were more sacred than marriage. As if in keeping with this thought, Mexi also came into the stable, holding her own child in her arms. Goblin pregnancies were similar in length to those of humans, and Buttercup guessed that she herself had been present at the conception as a bed. Accordingly, Mexi’s child was only a few days older — just like Grall and Buttercup’s back then. “You have a beautiful foal, Buttercup,” Mexi said with her typical affectionate manner, with which she had grown fond of Buttercup by now. It was amazing how much they could both love Grall without it leading to jealousy. She was a good girl, just right for Grall, Buttercup was sure of that; and she would defend Mexi with the same fervour as she would Grall. The child in her arms was a boy, and Buttercup knew what future awaited him: he would grow up with a ponygirl that he would one day ride. Just like his father and his ponygirl. A knock announced a new visitor. Matheus opened the door and knocked some sand off his shoulder. “The storm has got stronger, it’s even raining a bit, but I see you’ve quite cosy in here.” Oozol went outside the door, gathered some damp earth and trickled some of it onto the crying little child. “We hereby consecrate you in the name of the Nameless One, our god, for a life of service to the goblins, as has been handed down to us for centuries.” He looked at Matheus. “What follows is not really intended for humans, only the goblins and animals are usually included, but for you — as a grandfather — we make an exception. You’ve heard it before anyway.” He took a few thin sticks of incense out of a pocket and lit them. They each received one and stood in a circle around Buttercup and the foal. “Hidox Ari Brom Valariy! Gabby Blossom Eredum.” He gave the little one a kiss on the forehead and drew a horseshoe on its belly with some charcoal. “Valariy Rose Hidox.” The others repeated the “Hidox” five more times, then the short ritual was over. “Now our god will watch over the little child forever, as he did with Buttercup.” Buttercup remained silent, but something inside her tightened. She had chosen this life for herself, but this child had no choice. Would she have to suffer the goblins’ whip in the future just because her mother had chosen it for herself? Matheus gave his daughter a kiss on the cheek and took a small gift out of his pocket. “For my little grand foal. I thought it was going to be a girl. Your mother once told me that she comes from a breeding line where most of the children are girls. You must have inherited that too. Her genes are strong, I can see that clearly in your face. In fact, sometimes I don’t think you’ve got anything from me.” “Yes, your terrible sense of direction. But you should have kept it! Just look at the trouble it got me into…” Buttercup chuckled and returned the kiss. She took the gift and her face immediately darkened. “You’re giving her a horse bit?” “Practice makes perfect. A ponygirl can’t have a pacifier, can she?” Something inside Buttercup boiled, although none of this came as a surprise. “Thank your father,” Grall demanded sternly. “Thank you,” Buttercup said curtly. Grall was indeed still Buttercup’s best friend, even though he now used her as a horse as normal, but when it came to animal husbandry, they had established the usual division of roles between owner and horse. And often enough she was grateful for this, it was the only way this arrangement worked well; it gave her security and a set of rules that she could hold on to. But the old Izzy hadn’t completely disappeared, and it was here — sitting in the bloody straw — that some of it came back. “Why can’t she be human?” The question silenced everyone else. “The same nonsense as when you were born,” Hersia barked, crossing her arms. “Hasn’t anyone here learnt anything from that? Grall, bring her to her senses. Or forbid it altogether, you’re her owner! Oozol, say something!” But the old goblin preferred to avoid her gaze. After a moment’s thought, Grall took the little girl in his arms and looked at Thunder, who was still watching everything. “Do you want her to grow up as a human too?” The stallion, who had once been Bastian, nodded silently — that was all he could do with the horse bit. “Then so be it. Too bad, I thought my son would grow up with a ponygirl of his own.” “If she wants it, she can be one. But I want her to have a choice. It worked for me, didn’t it?” Grall grinned. “Fine. We’ll register her officially — I’m afraid we have to — and then she can grow up with her grandfather. If that’s what he wants.” Matheus took a deep breath. “I’ll probably have to get used to having a small child in the house again, but if that’s what my daughter wants, then that’s what we’ll do. What will we say when she asks for her mother?” “The truth,” Buttercup said immediately. “That was your big mistake. You shouldn’t have kept it from me. There’s no shame in being a ponygirl, and I had a right to know. Give her the choice, but don’t lie to her. She’ll know for herself what’s right for her.” “Can she have our son’s date of birth as her registration number?” Mexi asked cautiously. “Of course,” Buttercup replied. “It’s a family tradition.” She winked at Mexi. They all agreed. Mexi placed her son on Buttercup’s chest with Blossom. “Blossom, this is Zoxx. I hope you’ll be as good friends as your mum and dad.” To everyone’s amazement, the little girl immediately stopped screaming. Instead, she looked at the goblin boy with interest, squealed happily and immediately chewed on his ears. Zoxx seemed to enjoy this, laughing loudly and squeezing his new playmate awkwardly with his short arms. There was one last knock at the door for the evening, and Saxea came into the stable with Sunshine, Lisande and Albaea. Lisande and Albaea were quick to reach Buttercup, but Sunshine’s big belly didn’t allow her to move quite so quickly — Buttercup could still see the shame in her eyes whenever she looked at Thunder. The proud ponygirl, whose stubbornness had often driven the grooms to despair, was ultimately just a mare who couldn’t resist a handsome stallion. “Can we see the foal too?” asked Grall’s sister with unusual caution, and the three ponygirls also looked on curiously. Sunshine in particular studied the scene with curiosity, her own birth was not far off, but it was the amount of blood that took the colour out of her face. The ponygirls snuggled up to Buttercup and they all looked very content. The colourful group of goblins, humans and ponygirls spent many more hours together in the stable, while the storm outside rattled the trees. But all was quiet in the stable and nobody paid any attention to the wild weather. The world kept turning and everything was as it should be. THE END Bonus: The Christmas Ponygirl The first night as a ponygirl in the stables brought Izzy the craziest dreams. Most of them were so wild that it was almost impossible to describe them. But one of the dreams was different — more real, colder, more believable — as if it was a portal to another reality in which life followed its own laws… — A sharp wind blew through the cracks in the stable, making the small, warming fire in the fireplace dance around like a ballerina. The flames provided the only warmth in the small stable that Izzy had for herself. She lay curled up on the straw near the fireplace, blinking her eyes at the tinkling of some jingling bells. “Let me sleep a little longer, Papa!” she whispered, making herself a little smaller, but the feeling of the rough straw under her bottom silenced her. “What’s going on here?” she asked in a tired voice after she had cleared the sand from her eyes and recognized her surroundings. “Who builds a fireplace in a stable?” Not that she wasn’t grateful for it, the cold air made it obvious that it would have been bitterly cold without it. At least it was quite pleasant by the fire, even if there was no bed, pillow or blanket. “Hello? Is anyone there? Why am I here?” Her voice trembled, but it wasn’t because of the cold, but because she couldn’t for the life of her remember how she had got here. She had fallen into her bed at home after visiting Grall — her best friend, a scrawny goblin — and now woke up here in the stable. What nonsense was going on here? Was this the work of Grall, who was playing a joke on her? He knew only too well how little Izzy thought of ponygirls — and until now, he had been no different. But this was a stable, the fireplace left no doubt about that. But something else was strange: the evening had been a beautiful summer night, why was it suddenly so cold; no, almost frosty! Something was wrong, she knew it for sure. She pulled her legs up to her chest and froze. There was something else wrong too: she was stark naked! She held her hands in front of her chest in indignation and squeezed her legs together before she remembered that she was alone, and no one was watching her. That didn’t change the fact that she had turned as red as a tomato. A tomato sitting naked in a stable by a fireplace, waiting to see who was waiting for her at the door. Had she been kidnapped? Or had she run into the stable herself while drunk? But she didn’t have a hangover, and nothing about the night was special. She moved a little closer to the fireplace and pondered, and after a short while she heard the sound of small boots outside the stable. So it was the goblins after all! She jumped to her feet, held one hand in front of her crotch and one arm in front of her breasts, and the upper half of the stable door opened with a loud squeak — a goblin looked in at her. “Merry Christmas, Vixen,” chimed the goblin, who was wearing a silly green pointed cap and sucking on a candy cane. “Today is the big day, I hope you’ve had enough sleep!” “Let me out of here right now, you damn bastard!” Izzy hissed, but the goblin just laughed. “And don’t call me Vixen. My name is Izzy!” “Fiery as always. The master is getting ready, the other reindeer girls are almost ready too. You’re the last one. Are you causing me trouble, Vixen?” “Stop calling me that! You goblins can’t just kidnap a girl and put her in a stable!” Only then did she think about what he had said… Reindeer girls? Was that something new? She knew — and didn’t really like the idea — of pony girls, but what were reindeer girls? The goblin rolled his eyes. “That’s your name. Izzy? That’s not what you call an animal… Besides, I’m not a goblin, I’m an elf. You know that… Come on, we don’t have much time, the master will be furious if we don’t get away in time because of you!” He opened the stable with a quick movement, but Izzy was prepared. As soon as the door was open, she jumped over the goblin elf and ran off. The area in front of him was a semicircle of small stables, from which other young women stared at them in surprise. These monsters had already tied bridles around their heads and shoved large horse bits into their mouths. At this thought, Izzy lost all awareness of her surroundings for a moment, and so she noticed the cold under her feet too late. “What is that stuff?” she yelped as her feet lost their grip. She slipped over a thin layer of ice and landed hard on the ground. A few snowflakes melted on her head and Izzy stared up in wonder. “Is that… snow?” That was a huge surprise because there was no snow in her homeland — or rather, it was so rare that Izzy had never seen any despite being 18 years old. There were stories of terrible winter storms that buried all the houses, but for Izzy these were little more than fairy tales. But here, in this place where nothing seemed familiar to her, it snowed incessantly. The whole ground was covered in snow and ice, even the houses and windowsills rested under a thick blanket of white splendour. Only the flickering fireplaces in the stables offered some protection. Izzy turned awkwardly on the ice and looked back at the goblin who wanted to get her out of the stable. His heavy boots found better traction on the ice than her bare feet, and so he approached with firm little steps. Izzy tried to get up, but the goblin elf just reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a brightly painted glass ball, which he casually threw in Izzy’s direction. The ball flew through the air, whirring, until it hit the ground right in front of Izzy and burst into a thousand small crystals. For the blink of an eye, time stood still, then the goblin was already behind her, tying her arms behind her back and binding her legs with a short string before she knew. “Every year you give us the same trouble. You have slipped on this floor more times than is appropriate. Now calm down, the sleigh is waiting! And it really shouldn’t be… You know how impatient it gets when it has to stand around in the open. You would think that the spirit of Christmas is in it, but the old wood has become as grumpy as it’s rotten!” “Monster!” Izzy grumbled, thrashing around on the ice like a fish. “What is this supposed to be… Christmas?” “You must have hit your head really hard this time. Don’t worry. Luckily, you don’t need to be smart for your job.” That was the only explanation she got. Not that it would have made any difference, after all, she wouldn’t help those goblins even if she knew what this Christmas was all about. But still… what was going on here? Where was she, and how had they brought her here? And why her of all people? “Get up,” the goblin said, pulling out a small rod and hitting her bare bottom. The branch left small marks on her pale skin, and Izzy glared at him angrily. “What’s that supposed to mean!” But the goblin only struck again, albeit lightly. “Get up, or we’ll never finish!” he shouted, and the girls in the stables joined in. “Don’t make it harder for me than it has to be!” He struck twice more, and then Izzy stood on shaking legs. Her gaze burned warmer than the fires of hell, but the goblin didn’t seem to mind. While she stood freezing in the square, other goblin elves came and fetched the other girls from the stables. They all let themselves be led out with leashes without resistance. Apart from their bridles, they too were naked, like the day they were born. Well, not quite like the day they were born — the last 18 years of growth had changed them a lot, but their appearance hid nothing from the eyes of the goblins and other girls. “Kneel so I can put the bridle on you,” the goblin ordered, but Izzy shook her head vigorously. “Forget it, you definitely won’t do that!” But before she could say more, he pressed his candy cane into her breasts and Izzy immediately froze as if her muscles had frozen to ice. Only her eyes were still twitching nervously, but the rest of her was stiff as a board. The little goblin took the bridle out of a box and climbed her deftly, like a squirrel up a tree. He used every support he could find — her knees, hands, her breasts and finally even her nose for a moment, although he was actually high enough. The last one was probably just revenge for the trouble she caused, and Izzy was seething inside. Not that it was enough to thaw her out, but a little anger was all that kept her sane at the moment. He put the bridle around her head and quickly fastened it to the back of her head so that Izzy, with her arms tied, had no chance of freeing herself. It was a strange feeling, so foreign and yet strangely familiar, as if this wasn’t the first time she had had something like this happen to her. How could that be? What had she forgotten, how many days and experiences were missing from her memories? Was that even possible? While she was still wondering if there were weeks that had disappeared from her memory, the goblin held the horse bit to her mouth. Now Izzy was a little grateful for her stiffness because at least that way he couldn’t get that horrible thing between her teeth. But the goblin didn’t seem surprised, instead he put his candy cane to her chin and pressed against it. Immediately, Izzy felt that her mouth was free. “What…” was all she could say before the goblin took advantage of the opportunity and pushed the horse bit deep into her mouth, where it clicked into the bridle. Izzy snorted angrily, but he had won. “It’s slowly becoming routine with you. If you were good for at least a year… what does the master see in you? We could have any girl in the world, but he only wants you!” The goblin attached a leash to her bridle, then skilfully climbed off her, playfully slapping her round bottom, which wobbled around like pudding. Izzy blushed again with embarrassment, but she couldn’t do anything about it with his magic. He had control over her, she was helpless and completely at his mercy, and in a strange way this thought warmed her almost as much as the fire in the fireplace. “You’ll be able to move again soon, but you’ll give me more trouble, won’t you?” Izzy wiggled her eyes — that was all she could do. The goblin was small, but tricky, and obviously, he was always one step ahead of her. He reached for the candy cane and grinned slightly. “Removing the spell requires a different approach. But you’ve always liked this part.” There was something mischievous in his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Vixen!” He guided the warm candy cane between her legs and slowly entered her. Izzy’s eyes darted wildly as her body awoke from its rigidity and her muscles began to obey her mind again. It was a strange feeling, but her mind was completely focused on the goblin’s activities between her legs. The cane had almost disappeared completely inside her when he pulled it out and guided it all the way in again. “Can you feel your arms again yet?” Izzy hesitated, not sure if she really wanted to answer — what if he stopped then? A small box fell from one of the other goblin elves with a loud clatter, reminding Izzy that there were many eyes in the square, and she noticed that most were focused on her. She nodded quickly, and the goblin elf shoved the candy cane all the way into her, then snapped his fingers, and it was gone. “For the holiday spirit, if you know what I mean…” Izzy swallowed and nodded sheepishly. “Come on, it’s time we got you ready.” He fetched two large, heavy leather boots that reached up to her knees; nailed horseshoes under the heels made it clear that these were not normal boots. Izzy quickly slipped them on, and to her great surprise, the boots offered a wonderful grip even on the ice. “They’re magical,” said the goblin and winked. He led her to a small hut, in front of which the other girls were already waiting. Green fir branches were nailed to the roof, as well as a string of lights with small candles burning on them, their flames fighting against the wind that also swept between Izzy’s legs and tickled her. “First, you get your harness. That’s the most important thing besides the bridle!” He put a series of straps on her, tightening them with a firm grip. They were tight, but not too tight to dig into her skin. The straps pushed her breasts forward and ran along the inside of her thighs, offering no privacy where it should have been. “That already looks good. Now come the bells!” Izzy almost froze again as he attached two large — much too large! — bells to her nipples with two painful clamps. She grunted angrily; how humiliating that was… even the slightest movement made the bells roll over her breasts and jingle back and forth. The other girls were also equipped in this way and soon there was non-stop jingling and tinkling outside the hut. While Izzy found this horrible, the other girls made a great effort to shake their upper bodies with even the slightest movement. Izzy scolded as best she could through the bit, but nothing came out except a strange neigh. But to her horror, it didn’t end there. She looked around and noticed that all the other girls were bending over and sticking their butts out at the goblins. “It’s your turn,” said the goblin, patting her on the bottom, and Izzy leaned forward as if by itself. “Good vixen. So you do remember!” She felt something cold and large at her back gate, and a look at the other girls told her what was happening to her: These horrible goblins were sticking large plugs into the poor girls — and hers! — butts, to which short brown-white tails were attached. She felt the wood rushing in again, then there was a pop and the plug was safely inside her. She whimpered, but she couldn’t do anything about these strange goblin elves, who were jumping around in celebration as if something wonderful had just happened. For Izzy it was just a disgrace, especially because the plug felt unusually good… “Now the icing on the cake!” The goblin elves fetched a box full of antlers from the hut and attached them to the girls’ bridles with practiced movements. It was completely silly, inappropriate, and impertinent, but without her hands, Izzy couldn’t do anything about it. She shook her head in annoyance, but the antlers just hissed through the air and narrowly missed her goblin. “Watch out!” he scolded and hit Izzy hard on the bottom with the rod. “Here comes the master!” A strong wind came up and blew some snow into the girls’ eyes. They all blinked nervously and looked into the storm, from which a small figure in a red cloak emerged. It was a goblin — or elf? — with a red hat with a white pompom hanging from it. He also wore red trousers and black boots with gold straps. Izzy narrowed her eyes and snorted angrily. It was Grall! She scolded him again through her horse bit, but the goblin at her side just laughed. “Calm down, he’ll be right with you!” The other girls were excited too, although probably for a different reason than Izzy. She would have loved to just knock Grall, but her legs were still tied up. All of them had to wait until the little storm had died down and Grall was standing in front of them all. “Ho Ho Ho! It’s time to get the sleigh in the air!” he announced in a voice that was probably meant to be deep and growling, but in the end was just the usual squeak of a goblin. “The night is starting; we must get going.” The goblin elves led the girls, including Izzy, around the hut to a wide-open space that stood at the edge of a long road that seemed to lead into the darkness. On the road stood a large sleigh with a huge sack on top, from which a few well-wrapped presents were already sticking out. The girls were led to the front one by one and, much to Izzy’s shock, were harnessed to the sleigh. The girls giggled and enjoyed it, but Izzy’s blood froze when it was her turn. She was led past the sleigh and for the first time she noticed the large eyes staring out into the world on either side. “Vixen, oh you poor thing. The only one of you who can understand my suffering,” the sleigh growled like an old tree about to fall. Everything about it shook at the words, and some snow fell from the surrounding trees. “Just one night, they say. Just one night every year. But do they ask us if we even want that? No, they just decide. Who on earth wants to be a sleigh, even for just one night?” The sleigh continued to hum, and Izzy nodded sympathetically. Whatever was going on here, at least one person was normal — even if it was a talking sleigh with iron hooves that she was about to be harnessed to as a draft animal. She lined up next to the other girls, trembling, and felt the uncomfortable weight of the sleigh as the poles and ropes were attached to her harness, including the reins to her bit. Her legs were finally untied, but it was useless to secure them like that. The other girls were still in high spirits, ringing and giggling, while Izzy stood stiffly. These stupid cows, she thought, when will they finally stop? She felt a weight in the sleigh and turned her around as best she could — which of course was almost impossible when tied to the same sleigh. She felt a slight tug on her bit and knew that Grall had climbed into the driver’s seat. “Are you all ready?” he asked in a high voice, and the other girls responded with satisfied neighs, while Izzy just stomped her feet in annoyance. “What if we don’t want to go, Christmas Goblin?” asked the sleigh. “This is our night, and we will do what we all came here to do. Get ready! It’s Christmas, tonight we bring the presents to all the good children who deserve it.” Izzy snorted. Whatever Christmas was, she had never received a present like the one in the sack. Her father gave her everything she needed and gifted her something when he could. There was no special night for that. Wherever she was, it wasn’t her world. — Izzy waited nervously in front of the sleigh while there was a lot of activity around her. The goblins cleared everything around the sleigh and discussed a few final steps with Grall. All she saw was the night and darkness that disappeared into the distance of the road. It was a strange sight: the row of trees ended next to the sleigh, behind it the entire path was flat and seemed to end in nothing. But that was probably where their destination lay because behind them the road only led to a large workshop, where Izzy saw countless goblins with their silly hats running around through the windows. Grall raised his voice. “Get ready! Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen… and Vixen!” Izzy heard a hiss in the air, then the biting tongue of a whip hit her on the bottom! She yelped and pushed herself forward against the weight of the sleigh. The other girls — or reindeer girls, as the goblins had called them — followed suit, and the sleigh slowly began to move. The skids sprayed sparks across the hard ground until they finally hit enough snow to allow the sleigh to move forward more easily. “Where are we going with so many presents?” Izzy thought, continuing to push against the weight of the sleigh; even if not entirely voluntarily, the whip motivated her a lot, especially since she seemed to be the only one of the reindeer girls to feel its kiss. The sleigh glided down the road into nothingness and Izzy tried to see something in the distance and darkness, but to her great horror there was less there than she had hoped. Only a few meters in front of her, previously hidden by the snowstorm and the night, the road ended abruptly at a slope that went steeply down for hundreds of meters. Izzy pushed against the sleigh with all her might, but the other girls — how could they be so stupid? — kept running with all their might, dooming all of them! With a final loud howl, Izzy was pushed over the slope and felt the ground disappear beneath her feet. What followed was a deep fall into the night without even being able to see the ground. The other girls were now screaming too, even the sleigh had come back to life. “You have to fly, Vixen!” he shouted, setting off an avalanche. As Izzy now realized, the stables and the workshop were high up on a mountain, right on its peak; but now they were on their way to the valley, where they probably wouldn’t arrive alive. “Stupid thing, you don’t have to hate Christmas so much that you’d kill us all!” The whip whistled through the darkness again and hit Izzy. “Vixen, you can do it,” Grall shouted. “You’ve flown many times before. This night is no different. Believe in yourself and run!” Izzy had almost forgotten how to breathe in fear, but the whip woke her up again. In a panic, she kicked her legs in the air while the sleigh pushed her down. But something strange happened. The faster she kicked, the harder it became. Sparks flew past her hooves, and it almost felt as if she was walking on something soft. She looked around — the other girls did the same — their hooves also sprayed sparks. They were only a few meters from the ground when the sleigh raised up and Izzy felt the treetops beneath her hooves for just a moment before they soared into the sky again. “Christmas Goblin, you stupid idiot, why do we have to play this game every year?” growled the sleigh angrily. “Because that’s the only way to awaken the Christmas spirit in my animals. It would be boring if they just flew away, wouldn’t it?” The sleigh shook angrily. “Remind me that one day I’ll run you over when you’re not careful.” Izzy couldn’t help but nod in agreement. — High above the treetops and the mountain peaks, the sleigh sped through the cool night beneath the clouds, but to Izzy’s surprise, she wasn’t cold. But plenty of strange things had happened that evening, maybe this was just part of it? Was it magic, or was she so numb that she no longer noticed it? Grall steered the sleigh through the night with the reins and the whip, while Izzy still looked down with her heart pounding. How could she fly? And with a whole sleigh? The wind blew over her body and caressed her between her legs. But was it even important, how it was possible? “The first hut is down there, we’re landing!” Grall shouted excitedly as they circled above a small hut in a forest, far from any civilization. The sleigh began to dive, and Izzy screamed in fear while Grall, the other girls and even the sleigh just cheered loudly. Just before the ground, Grall pulled the sleigh up and the girls’ hooves and the runners glided elegantly over the snow. Izzy and the others dug into the ground and got the sleigh to a stop in front of the hut just in time before it smashed into a big tree behind it. Nearly passed out, while the other girls just neighed excitedly. Grall jumped elegantly from the sleigh with two small gifts and scurried to the hut, where there was no light. He climbed the house and jumped — small as he was — into the chimney. Izzy raised an eyebrow. What was that about, she thought, after all there was a door. But Grall came out of the chimney a short time later, and to her great surprise he was as clean as before, although chimneys usually had a habit of being full of soot and dirt. The little goblin hopped into the sleigh and gave Izzy another whip, only for them all to rise into the sky again a short time later. They repeated this many times during the night. They landed on lakes, on the open road — strangely enough never to be seen — on roofs and once even on a ship in the middle of the sea. None of this should have been possible, but what did that mean when you had a flying sleigh, Izzy thought, and noticed that the night was also longer than usual. They had probably been on the road for twelve hours, but there was still no light at the horizon. — After what felt like days of travelling at night – without the need for sleep, food or drink – the previously large sack lay flat in the sleigh. “Just one last present and then we’re done. It’s a farewell, but it must be done” announced Grall, and the sleigh just creaked. Their destination lay alone in a valley, surrounded by tall trees, mountains, and rivers that ate their way through the old rock. The sleigh rushed through the cold air towards the ground once more with momentum and came to a stop in front of a small house that had seen better days. Apart from that, there was only a nearby young tree and an abandoned stable in which no animal had lived for a long time. Grall took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do what needs to be done.” He took a large red ribbon and walked to the front of the sleigh. “Come, Vixen. You have a special role to play tonight. Are you ready?” The days before the sleigh had put Izzy in a good mood. The many presents, the trips through the sky and the closeness to the other girls had ignited a warmth in her belly that still burned inside her. She nodded and let Grall untie her from the sleigh. He went ahead and she followed him without hesitation. What else could she do? She had no idea where she was and without him there was no way she could go back — neither to the mountain with the stables nor to her own life, wherever that was. He took a pair of reins and attached them to her horse’s bit, then tied them to the small tree and placed the large bow on her chest. “Merry Christmas, I hope you’re doing well,” the Christmas goblin said kindly, gave her a kiss and left her alone in the night. The sleigh drove across the snow, made a small turn, and then sped off – under the tinkling of many bells — across the sky while Izzy watched in amazement. A final “Ho Ho Ho” echoed through the night, and then Izzy was alone. As soon as the sleigh was gone, she felt the cold again. She shivered and looked at the hut, but as soon as the “Ho” had stopped, the sun slowly rose on the horizon, as if it had only been waiting for this strange sleigh to finally disappear from her sight. Izzy blinked nervously and neighed excitedly, which was probably heard in the hut. The lights came on and the door flew open. A small goblin girl stood there in a nightgown and with tired eyes, staring at her. Her eyes grew, then the little thing squeaked and ran through the cold snow to Izzy without thinking. “Mum, Dad, the Christmas Goblin gifted me a horse!” “But no, my angel, that…” said the father, but he stopped when he saw Izzy. “He really did it! He gave you one of his ponygirls.” The little girl jumped excitedly around Izzy, who smiled kindly down at the girl. She got down on her knees and the goblin girl hugged her. “You’re Vixen, am I right?” the girl asked out of the blue, and Izzy nodded. Why not, what was there to lose? “We’re going to have so much fun. I’m going to ride you everywhere. And you can pull our cart and live in the stable. I love you, Vixen!” Izzy wasn’t sure if it was really such a wonderful idea, but tied to a tree, she didn’t have much to say about it. With a final “Ho ho ho” from far away, Izzy followed the girl into the stable. — Dreams are strange things. Many are pure nonsense, but some are so real, as if we see a strange world — a life that was never lived, but with the right magic, might have been possible. — Merry Christmas, everyone! Bonus: The bareback ride The first night after a long time as a ponygirl can bring many strange dreams. Mostburst quickly like soap bubbles, but some are difficult to shake off; unusual thoughts in particular seek a way into the conscious mind when the doors to the subconscious are the widest open… — Just another normal summer’s day with Grall, Izzy thought as her eyes drifted shut. — Thecart rumbled along the old main road to the north, and the ponygirl visibly struggled whenever the wooden tires sank into the depths of one of the many potholes. But the driver was experienced and didn’t hold back with the whip, asIzzy realised to her dissatisfaction. Yet as a guest, she preferred to keep her mouth shut before she found herself in front of the cart herself. “Thankyou for giving us a lift,” Grall said for what must have been the hundredth time on this journey, but it really was worth a mention. Not only was this route little travelled, but it was unusual for anyone to offer a ride to wanderers at all — especially when it was a human and a goblin. It was a mixture that made humans and goblins alike uneasy, which was one of the reasons why Grall and Izzy had avoided taking a lift so far, even though they often had no choice anyway. “We don’t have to go far, we just want to go to Lake Schrupp.Is it as good as they say?” Izzy raised an eyebrow. Thecoachman, an ancient goblin — older than the war — nodded. He was friendly, but not much of a talker. “It is. A bit lonely. Few people. You’re not doing anything naughty, are you?” “No!”blurted Izzy, blushing instantly. “We’re just friends.” “Unusual.In every way. But not my business.” The old goblin nevertheless gave her aside long glance that made Izzy very uneasy. There was no disgust in it, rather it seemed to her that the goblin would have liked to swap places with Grall.But that only worsened it for her. “I’ll be back in three hours. I’ll give you a lift if you like.” Theyboth nodded and jumped off the cart, but before she could say thank you, the driver had already given his ponygirl the whip and the cart rattled away quickly. “Strangefellow,” said Grall, grinning. “He liked you. Must be one of “those” goblins. Izzypreferred not to comment on it, she already guessed what kind of goblin he was,and that was all she needed to know. Sure, she liked Grall, a lot, but not in that particular way. “You didn’t tell me about a lake,” Izzy grumbled, pointing at her dress. “Do you think I’m going into the water in this?” “Nonsense,we’re just going in the way we were made!” He grinned broadly and limped ahead.”You know how much we goblins like nature —“ ”—and how little nature likes you!” “Not important. But if I’m going for a swim, it’ll be like this!” They had just arrived at the water, and Grall threw his clothes behind a tree surprisingly quickly. Izzy hurriedly turned away and gulped. They had gone swimming naked together before, but they were both much younger then. Today it felt wrong to still do that, but Grall probably didn’t share those concerns; she only heard him jumping off a rock into the water, cheering. “Come in, it’s marvellous! Or are you going to stand there all day? What have you got to lose, it’s not likeI haven’t seen you naked.” Izzy bit her lower lip. He was right about that, of course; as his ponygirl she was almost always half-naked, and he had even washed her thoroughly. Their friendship had undoubtedly changed. She grabbed her dress by the hem and lifted it over her head. With a movement that was unusually elegant for her, she threw it onto the pile of Grall’s clothes; her underwear and shoes followed in quick succession. “You’re an idiot, Grall! Next time, you warn me! Besides, we don’t have any clothes with us.” “What’s the point, it’s lovely and warm, we’ll dry off quickly.” With cautious steps, Izzy ventured into the unfamiliar water, but Grall was right:it was really pleasant and extremely clean. She slipped in and rolled onto her back so that she could drift slowly and watch the clouds. — “What time is it?” Izzy asked, startled. They had been in the water for hours — their skin was wrinklier than an old cow’s bum — and the sun was already slowly setting behind the horizon. Grall surfaced with a small crab in his mouth. “What did you ask?” “What time it is.” Thegoblin widened his eyes. “Shit, I completely forgot the time too. If it’s getting dark, we must have been here for at least four hours. Quick, if we’re lucky, the cart was late too.” They both paddled hurriedly to the shore and trotted up the embankment, dripping. It wasn’t a long way to their stuff, but when Izzy went around the tree, she stopped dead in her tracks. Grall limped up and could tell from her posture that something was wrong. “Where are ourthings!” he shouted when he finally saw the problem. He dropped to the forest floor but found only his pants and a few scraps of his trousers, which wouldn’t be enough to put on. There was nothing left of Izzy’s clothes, not a shred was left behind. “It must have been an animal,” Izzy speculated. “But I thought they didn’t like goblins. Shouldn’t your scent have driven them away?” Grall shook his head. “It’s not our scent that bothers them. It’s us ourselves. It’s like an aura. However, I take it personally that the culprit left my undies there… I just washed myself this morning!” They lifted every leaf and branch, but to their great misfortune, the clothes had disappeared. And without the sun it was getting noticeably cooler, although they were both still a little wet and could have done with some warmth. Grall slipped into his pants and stood with his legs apart in front of Izzy. “What are we going to do now?” “Why are you asking me that? This is your fault because you didn’t tell me where we were going! Now I have to freeze naked in the woods while the fine gentleman stands here in his undies.” Hegrimaced. “As a ponygirl, you’re used to being half-naked. It’s much more unusual for me.” His whole body trembled slightly. “Half-naked!But not completely naked! Anyway, we have to get to the road.” “Noway!” said Grall and crossed his arms, rubbing his upper arms with his hands to warm himself a little. “We can’t let anyone see us like this. That would be too embarrassing! Besides, the cart driver won’t give us a lift like this.” “Maybehe’ll take me with him anyway,” Izzy sniggered, but also growled. “Come on,let’s hide at the side of the road and wait.” Gralltook Izzy by the hand and led her through the darkness of the forest until they were right next to the road. They looked up and down, but there was nothing to be seen, nor did they hear the usual loud rattling of the wheels of a cart or carriage that announced the vehicle for kilometres. “Crap! We’re too late.Nobody drives through the dark at this time of night. It’s far too dangerous.But it’s way too far to walk.” “If you think I’m carrying you, then…” Izzy warned. “My arms have been hurting me for days.” Herfriend grinned slightly. “Then it’s a good thing you hadn’t needed them.” The light slap afterwards didn’t change his grin, but luckily for Grall, she couldn’t see it in the darkness. “All joking aside, we need to do something, or we’ll freeze to death out here. Can I ride you?” Thisquestion caught Izzy off guard and made her stumble a little. “How is that supposed to work? We don’t have a saddle with us!” She was happy about that; it was only meant to be a trip with friends, but why had the subject of riding come up again? Was it following her everywhere? Was it no longer possible to be anywhere with Grall without her becoming his little horse? She was good at it,she knew that, but that didn’t mean it always had to happen everywhere! “If you let me, I’ll ride you bareback. It’s possible, my father told me about it.It’s not very popular because most goblins don’t trust their horses, but of course, it’s different with you.” Izzy grumbled, but continued to listen. “The ones that like it do it a lot, though. It’s probably not bad for the horse, but you have to know the right technique. I didn’t know it before, either,otherwise I would have suggested it to you instead of the saddle.” “Youdon’t have any other ideas?” Izzy asked uncertainly. “Fine, but I’m not your horse! It’s like at the very beginning, I’m just giving you a lift. You’re like a stupid backpack that I’ll throw into the nearest pond when it gets on my nerves!” “Gotit — no ponygirl!” he said, nodding in the darkness. “Tack!” The sharp slap was well deserved, they mutually agreed later, and still, he whimpered. “Alright,sorry, that was just out of habit! Thanks for sitting down.” Izzycould dimly see Grall rubbing his cheek as she stared at him angrily in the darkness. “I told you I’m not your ponygirl. Watch out, greenling, or I’ll leave you here! Friends or not, I can walk home, but you can’t! So much for anice trip…” “Youhave to cross your arms behind your back,” Grall explained, slightly offended,and corrected her position. “Leave a little more space between your upper arms and your side so that I can put my legs between them. Exactly, that should work.” It was an unusual position for Izzy. Normally, her arms were bent slightly differently, and as a ponygirl this had become second nature to her. But it was even stranger when Grall first climbed onto her calf and then sat on her arms.It was an entirely new experience, unlike anything she had ever had with him before. Holding him was intense and personal, but she had been in control, and the saddle and wooden frame acted as a natural barrier between them. When Grallsat on her arms, however, it felt quite unfamiliar. His still slightly wet skin pressed against hers; she felt his stomach against her back, could feel his heartbeat, heard his breathing surprisingly close to her ear — but most of all she felt his bum and his … him on her arm. She swallowed and tried to ignore the sensation, thankful that Grall was at least wearing pants, even if they felt dreadfully thin. What she would have given for thick woven trousers for him now. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Your heart’s racing, I can feel it.” “It’s just a bit strange, I’ll get used to it in a minute.” That’s what she said anyway, but at that moment Grall relaxed his legs, resting them against her breasts. “Hey, take those off!” Izzy hissed, but Grall didn’t. “What can I do, my leg hurts, I can’t stretch it out all the time. Don’t be like that, I’ve already washed your breasts. Why are you so touchy now?” “Oh,shut up!” She straightened up and tried to ignore his cold, wet feet on her breasts — which wasn’t easy — and took a deep breath. His weight on her arms wasn’t very comfortable, but it was better than having to carry him. At least her back could take some of the weight. Still, they were stuck together, which didn’t solve another problem… “Don’t wriggle around like that, I can barely keep my balance!” She had to make a sidestep to avoid falling over. He wasn’t sitting exactly in the centre and his bottom was sliding all over the place. “What are you doing?” “I’m sorry, but it’s harder than with a saddle, it supports better. We’ll have it in no time!” It wasn’t quite that quick — the first few steps were as difficult as on their very first ride, only this time Grall had to do more himself to keep them balanced. That was probably why some goblins liked it so much, Izzy thought,the connection between rider and horse was much more intense — almost intimate.But for the horse, for Izzy, it was above all more work, but that was never important to goblins anyway; to her annoyance, she wished for a saddle, and immediately cringed at the thought. Shetook the first steps in the dark, but it was not easy for Izzy not to stumble over invisible obstacles. Even more unpleasant, however, was another problem that was digging into her back. “You’re a pig, Grall! You’re no better than that cart driver,” she hissed, wishing for nothing more than a saddle between her and him. “It’s not my fault, it’s the friction. Do you think I enjoy it? I’m cold and miserable, but nature intended it that way. It’s got nothing to do with you!” Izzy rolled her eyes, but the whiny tone in his voice had won her over. No one could do that and then sound so pathetic about it, unless it was unintentional.Nevertheless, she liked the situation even less now. As a good girl, she had tended to stay away from men so far, so it was all the worse that this firstexperience was like this and with Grall of all people. “Besides,you’re no better,” Grall said. “What?” “Yournipples are hard, they poke me in the feet!” Grall probably didn’t realise how dangerous those words were, but luckily for him,Izzy took it with humour instead of throwing him into the nearest hedge when it briefly crossed her mind. “Then I suggest you keep his feet away from there,”she said in the sweetest tone, but he probably hadn’t missed the slight threatin her voice because from then on, he tried a little harder not to touch her there. “Careful,there’s a tree,” warned the goblin. “And there’s a branch. Crap, you’ve hit it.But to your right at eye level… yeah, that one… but…” “It doesn’t work that way. I can’t see enough!” Grall grumbled. “That’s why I usually steer you. Let’s try something.” Izzy keptwalking and Grall tugged her hair lightly, but immediately Izzy hissed. “Fine,let’s do this differently then.” At the next obstacle, he tapped her on the shoulder to make her swerve, but it wasn’t precise enough. A horse bit allowed him to control the intensity and duration of the steering, but it wasn’t possible with just a tap. After an unpleasant stumble over a branch, this plan was also off the table. Once again blessed with more courage than sense, he kicked her right breast with his bare foot as a control, but it was a mistake. Immediately,Izzy let go of her arms and dropped a screaming Grall to the forest floor. Sheturned with the speed of a cougar and grabbed him by the neck. “What didn’t you understand about my warning?” Hestared at her with wide eyes and felt her powerful hands. She would only have to squeeze, and his little life would be over here in the dark forest. That was the risk of any goblin — the humans were so much stronger, even the ponygirls they rode. But Izzy was his friend, and although he knew how to recognise her strength, he didn’t fear her. “You nearly tripped over a root,” he said,leading her over. The root had grown slightly above the forest floor and ifIzzy had got under it, she could easily have broken her leg in the fall. “Oh,”Izzy said after a brief moment. It wasn’t a very clever answer, but they both knew what was meant. “We won’t get anywhere like this, it’ll take too long.” “Ihave one more idea, but you’ll hate me for it.” Shegrumbled. “Getting to be a habit today. What are you thinking about?” Withoutfurther explanation, Grall searched the forest floor, which of course Izzy couldn’t see. She then heard him tearing up the remains of his trousers and making something. “Ta…I mean, please kneel, bend over and open your mouth.” “Grall,if you really expect me to —“ “No!”he squeaked. “This stallion is really messing with your head! It’s a horse bit,or rather a branch with a few strings on it.” He handed it to Izzy, who carefully felt it. The bark had been removed from the branch, but it was still not completely smooth, and the splinters would certainly not be pleasant in her mouth. But it was also true that both of them had good success riding with a horse bit — they knew how it worked, and it had got them out of many situations. She sighed unhappily, biting down on the wood and throwing the strings on her shoulder; then she put her arms behind her back again and let Grall mount. The little goblin seemed immediately in his element. As soon as Izzy stood up, he gave her a little kick — for his well-being, however, against Izzy’s side and not against her breasts — and immediately led her safely through the darkness. “You’re doing well!” he praised, and Izzy neighed. So ended a day as equal friends again as rider and ponygirl, only now he rode her bareback. Always ready, it was true of a good horse. If it took nothing more than a stick and some rope to turn her from human to animal, her future looked bleak. Still,the emergency horse bit wasn’t very pleasant. Resin was coming off the branch,and it tasted horrible; plus, as expected, splinters were digging into her sensitive gums. As with the saddle, she almost longed for a practice horse bit,even with the metal pressing into her palate. But if this branch brought her home to her bed, then it was meant to be. Butbeing close to Grall had at least one good side effect: the warmth of their bodies together dispelled the cold of the night at least a little. — They made good progress with the new horse bit, especially as the large path was quite flat and comfortable for a horse, even if the animal was barefoot, which was not usual for ponygirls. Grall steered round the deepest holes and Izzy wasable to concentrate fully on her rhythm. After an hour, Grall estimated that they had covered half the distance, so Izzy’s warm bed was within reach.However, the two had become even closer on the track. They had developed a rhythm of their own, and Grall matched Izzy’s stride, leaning into bends and generally becoming almost one being: She was the body, he was the mind. Whichwas also because the sweating and exertion made them stick to each other.However, it was still a little more uncomfortable for Izzy, as Grall was at least wearing pants, but she was still completely naked. As a ponygirl, she would at least have the saddle covering her somewhat, even if it was less than Grall’s clothes. Here, however, she was as naked as an animal, while he wore a least the bare minimum of clothing to be considered civilised. — Theirjourney took another half an hour when Izzy heard a call from the darkness. “Who’s out there?” The call was accompanied by the pounding of hooves. “A rider and his horse on their way home,” Grall said, ignoring Izzy’s grumbling.They weren’t on the goblin side of the island, there was no need to call her that here. If he did, it was only because he meant it. The other goblin lit a small torch and now Izzy saw him too. There was nothing unusual about him, but he looked at her all the more surprised. “Without a saddle? I haven’t done that for a long time. I used to love it, but you have to have the right animal for it.” His ponygirl neighed, shaking her head, and it was immediately clear that she didn’t think she was that animal. “It’s all right, Pearl, I know your opinion on that. My name is Ederok.” “This here is Buttercup,” Grall said, again ignoring her grumbling, “and I’m Grall.” “Interesting, you don’t just introduce me to your horse, you name it first. You don’t hear that every day. But you ride her without a saddle and a bridle, so you have some kind of bond. How long have you been riding her like this?” “First time today, but it’s fantastic! It’s so exciting, I feel very close to her, I can even feel her heartbeat. I can feel her muscles under me with every movement and her breathing is like my own; I can also control her much more finely because I notice how she reacts earlier. It’s the best way to ride!” Ederok nodded. “You’re spot on. But unfortunately, it’s forbidden in many regions because the ponygirl isn’t secured enough. Still, there’s no harm in doing it from time to time. If the ponygirl allows it. Unlike other types of riding,here it’s an act of mutual trust!” Izzy was ashamed of these words, but they were true. She felt Grall very intensely on her back, and it wouldn’t work without trust. “If you like, I can show you a trick. You can link her arms a little, then the ponygirl doesn’t have to hold your weight with her hands. It’s not a restraint like under a saddle, but it makes her life easier. All you need is a travelling horse bit and this stuff, and you can ride her wherever and whenever you want.”He showed Grall how to tie her arms in, much to Izzy’s displeasure, but she had to admit that it really was easier that way. She was still able to get her arms out of it. He also gave them a travelling horse bit that didn’t need a bridle.It just stayed in their mouths as long as Izzy didn’t spit it out. All in all, it was still its own way of riding, but Izzy almost feared it. The lines between human and horse blurred even more, and it felt very dangerous,like she might lose her bearings for good. As she pondered this, Grall leant over to her. “This is wonderful, the best night of my life. Tomorrow we’ll ride out like this again, and then every day if nobody’s watching. But then I’ll be naked too!” — Izzy woke up in a cold sweat and stared out of the window. The dream disappeared from her mind as quickly as it had come, and before she had properly woken up,she could hardly remember what had happened. She only knew one thing: a good horse needed a saddle. Always. She preferred not to think about the alternative… — Dreams are strange things. Many are pure nonsense, but they allow us to play with reality in a way that is not possible outside of dreams. They allow us a taste of a life that may never exist, but was at least worth visiting once. Bonus: The Wannabe Pony “Wake up, lazybones,” grumbled the Horox as he opened Timothy’s stall. Age had left its deep marks on the wrinkled skin of the emerald-green goblin. The morning had long since dawned and the ponygirls were already running around in the paddock, enjoying the warm sunshine. Timothy had always been a late riser, partly because he had no job on the small farm. “Just one more hour, please,” Timothy begged, but Horox, as usual, was not so easily swayed. His heart may be big for Timothy, but on a farm, there were rules that applied to everyone. “No exceptions!” he said sternly, pushing back the straw that Timothy had shoved aside during the night. This was not unusual, Timothy was well known as a restless sleeper. “Up you go, Timothy, I’ve got Tiger to look after too.” Timothy yawned and stretched. “Firedragon,” Timothy grumbled. “I’m not going to call you that,” Horox replied, rolling his eyes. It wasn’t their first discussion on the subject, and it wasn’t the right topic today. “You’re not a horse, at least not for much longer. We’ve talked about this. Now get up and get dressed.” “But the clothes are itchy.” That might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but it wasn’t easy for Timothy to get used to clothes. They were restrictive and hot. Sure, goblins wore clothes, but goblins weren’t humans either. “Timothy…” “Firedragon!” “No! We’ve talked about this. You can’t stay with me. You should have been sent to the humans years ago. There’s no need for another stallion in our village — even if you were good at it… ERROR Horox paused briefly and cleared his throat. He didn’t mean to offend the young man, but it was no secret that he was no good as a stallion. “You have to get used to clothes; otherwise you can’t live with humans.” “There are humans everywhere, and they’re all naked!” Horox sighed. “They’re ponygirls and stallions, not humans like you.” “I’m a stallion too, just like my father.” Now Horox laughed out loud. “You might want to be, but you’re not. Your mother was my favourite mare and I always took good care of you. But you know as well as I do that we need fewer stallions than mares. And the peace with humans demands that we send the boys we don’t need to them. You should have left years ago.” “But I don’t want to,” Timothy protested in a quivering voice. “This is my home!” “Timothy…” “Firedragon!” “Enough of this!” shouted Horox, silencing Timothy. “You’re not a stallion, you’re a scrawny young man who needs to find his place among humans. You have that name for a reason. If I wanted you to be a horse, you’d have a horse’s name too! I wish you well, but you can’t stay.” He turned his head away, so Timothy couldn’t see his wet eyes. His ears lay close to his head, as they always did when the weight of the world was heavy on his narrow shoulders. “I wish I had the money to keep you on the farm. But I’ve used up all I’ve got. I can’t afford an eater with no use. I’m sorry. I truly am.” Timothy wanted to say something back, but the old goblin had already left the stable. That gave Timothy no choice but to dress as ordered. The clothes were clean — he only wore them when he absolutely had to, after all — and although they fitted him well, he didn’t like them at all. How could he, after all, they were the mark of the humans on him, and he hated everything about that? How could people feel free with something like that on their bodies? It hid everything good about him — even on a lean young bloke like him — and he sweated terribly in it. Plus, all those pockets… What was he supposed to put in them? “You look good,” Solaria whispered and winked at him. Timothy smiled back. She was the youngest mare in the stables, and they got on well together, as they were both almost the same age and had only recently matured. But that was also the problem. “Come here, let’s talk.” Timothy swallowed and did as asked. Solaria was always very nice to him, perhaps nicer than anyone else. He stood uncertainly by his side, and she grinned broadly. “Horox told me that today is your last day on the farm.” She stood behind a low fence that enclosed the ponygirls’ paddock. It didn’t secure them very well, but the mares didn’t want to be anywhere else anyway. Horox was the nicest goblin far and wide, he gave the mares a lot of freedom, and they were even allowed to talk; things could only get worse for them from here. She leant forward and pressed her ample bosom against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Come to us, no one would see us behind the bushes there. I dare you, Timothy.” He swallowed. She had often made this invitation to him, but he had never accepted — much to the mockery of the ponygirls and Tiger. Even the other stallion wanted to make him follow her, but something deep in his heart kept him from doing so. “Firedragon,” he stammered instead. The name seemed to give him some strength, but not enough to climb over the fence and have fun with Solaria behind the bushes. Horox wouldn’t even have minded; he always said he didn’t care which stallion knocked up his mares, and Solaria was scheduled to have a foal. “You’re not going to do it, are you?” Solaria asked, whinnying in amusement. She took a step back, turned round and bent over, only to present her most intimate parts directly to Timothy. “Tiger would be right inside me by now.” She stepped back and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “Maybe Firelily would be a more appropriate name for you.” Timothy blushed. “I… I… I’m just not in the mood!” “At your age, you should always be in the mood. You haven’t touched any of us at all,” Solaria said, but there was no malice in her voice. It was just an observation. The other mares, who held back a little, also neighed in agreement. “I truly wish you all the best, Timothy. Please find happiness.” — While Horox prepared the mares for the day, Timothy took the opportunity to bring Tiger his feed. The old stallion was often a bit rough, but Timothy knew that he would never hurt him. Although he had never been like a father to him, he knew that the stallion liked him. “Good morning,” Timothy called out and knocked on the stable door. Unlike Horox, he had no special rights on the farm, and he knew that he’d better only go into the stables if Tiger allowed him to. “Come in,” came Tiger’s deep voice from the darkness. Timothy swallowed. They both lived together on the farm, but he could count their time together on one hand. As a stallion, Tiger was usually tied up in the stable — even with Horox. “I’ll bring you your food.” “Doesn’t Horox have time for me today?” the old stallion said with a laugh. “I didn’t ask him. You might even get two feeds today,’ Timothy replied with a chuckle, taking the bag of pony feed into the stable and filling up the trough. As always, Tiger was secured to the wall with an iron chain. You could fill the trough from the edge, out of Tiger’s reach, but Timothy didn’t see the point. The stallion rose and stood right next to his son. He towered over him by a full head, and had to weigh at least twice as much — the least of which was fat. He exhaled heavily, ruffling Timothy’s hair. “So this is goodbye?” he asked, and for the first time Timothy heard something like sadness in his voice. “You’ve been here far too long. We don’t need a second stallion — if you had been one. You look so much like your mother.” Timothy didn’t dare to look the stallion in the eye. He felt his powerful presence next to him. It took all his strength not to tremble. Weakness was not welcome among stallions, not even if you were not accepted as such. “The human world is supposed to be exciting,” the old stallion continued. “Just imagine it: You can go anywhere you want. A house of your own, and if you have a farm, there are no goblins to boss you around. It must be wonderful.” Timothy heard the tremble in his father’s voice, but he didn’t share the sentiment. What did you do with a day when nobody told him what to do? He was often bored on the farm, what would it be like if no one was in control? A strange fear travelled up his spine. Could freedom be scary? “I don’t want to go,” Timothy whispered. “You have to!” Tiger demanded and Timothy became even smaller. “You should have joined the humans when you were a little boy. Horox was too soft with you, you’re hardly a man anyway.” Tiger had built himself up to his full height beside him. “We don’t need a second stallion on this farm. Go! Go and get a life of your own!” Tiger had shouted the last words. Timothy had run out of the stable and only came to a halt in the dirt behind the nearest shed. “Don’t tease him,” Horox called to Timothy, who remembered well how he had often sneaked up to Tiger as a little boy. “I was just saying goodbye!” Timothy defended himself. “Then you’re ready?” Timothy shook his head. “I’m afraid that doesn’t change a thing. The cart’s coming in the afternoon. Get ready.” — Timothy wandered aimlessly around the yard, his head low between his shoulders as he watched the ponygirls — though not in the manner befitting a stallion, even though that would have been no disgrace here. None of the mares were related to him; Horox had always given away Tiger’s other daughters and sons. Only he had stayed. His mother had died giving birth to him, and he knew how much Horox had loved that mare. That was probably why he had waited so long. But Timothy wasn’t ready to give up so quickly. He knew the rules among the goblins well: men were stallions, women were mares. Only the latter were used for riding, field work and carts. That’s how it was, and that’s how it would always be. But what was the point? He was at least as strong as the mares, and if the others were to be believed, even tamer. He loved that word: “tame”. It felt good, like a warm blanket that gave him protection and security. And it described him well; he wasn’t like the wild stallions that were tethered in the stables. If you only let him, he would carry any goblin round the world once, he was sure of that. Of course, he had never been able to prove it; apart from a few children, for whom he had trotted across the courtyard on all fours a few times, no goblin had ever ridden him, not even Horox, much to his displeasure. But the feeling of little green creatures on his back had been glorious; like a call to a better future that was denied him for a completely nonsensical reason. While Horox went about his duties on the farm, Timothy crept to the horse shed where the mares’ riding gear was kept. There was far more stuff than was needed for the horses, much of it was old and only spare. He swallowed and ventured into the darkness, which offered him some protection. He hurriedly took off the hideous human clothes, but as they were expensive and important to Horox, he carefully placed them in a corner where they would remain clean. After all, he wanted to please Horox and not offend him. When he was naked again, as the god of the goblins had intended for humans, he reached for a harness first. He knew from experience that this one fitted particularly well. The old leather felt good against his skin, it pressed easily into his face and after a short fumble was secured to the back of his head with a tab. Without hands, it would be impossible to open it again. Timothy swallowed again, partly because he was about to have something stuck in his mouth. His favourite bit was particularly large and made of shiny, polished wood. The taste was exciting and strange, but for him, it was one of his favourite objects on every visit to the shed. He moistened his lips and opened his mouth to welcome the intruder. Unfortunately, as he still had all his teeth, the horse bit remained resting on them, but the soft click as the bit clicked into the bridle sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. The horse bit pulled the corners of his mouth back and formed a broad grin on his face that he could feel deep in his heart. There was hardly anything more beautiful in the world than this wonderful feeling. His next move was to grab two reins from the rack and attach them to his bridle directly on the horse’s bit so that Horox could control him. He shivered at the thought. Just once, he would want to feel Horox on his back. To feel the weight of the saddle and the goblin as he steered him through the world with the reins. It was an intoxicating thought, but so far, it had only ever been a dream. Until now, he had never dared to go further than this. Bridle and reins, that was all. But there were still many things in the shed that made his heart beat faster. His eyes wandered to the boots, most of which would probably be too small for him; he looked at the horse’s tails and the plugs, which almost made him lose his breath; but above all, he stared at the saddles that meant the world to him. So often he had looked enviously after the mares when Horox had ridden them out of the yard. His rump was somewhat narrower than that of all the mares, but for a stallion it was probably quite wide, as Tiger had occasionally remarked snidely. Surely, there would be room for a saddle, right? He simply had to dare. There was no tomorrow; if he couldn’t convince Horox of his usefulness this morning, he would probably never see him again. His fingers ran over the rough leather that had already been on many backs. He lifted the saddle and was surprised at how light it was, even though it seemed so large. Both sides were well padded, so Horox gave the mares some comfort too. With unsteady hands, Timothy lifted the saddle onto his shoulders and back, but it wasn’t easy to saddle himself. Timothy knew only too well that his arms belonged under the saddle, but how was he supposed to fasten it? Well, it would have to work that way today. Once Horox saw how useful he was, he would saddle him properly. Then he could stay here, with his family. The leather nestled softly against his back, but he also felt the gap it left for his arms. In front dangled the straps with which the saddle had to be secured to him. As he was no taller than most mares, they should be enough, although Timothy realised immediately that the shape didn’t quite fit. They made a curve on his chest that wasn’t necessary on him. Nevertheless, he pulled them down and secured them first by the belly strap, which worked well. The next step was less pleasant. Timothy had grown up around naked animals, so of course he knew exactly what the difference was between a stallion and a mare. And in this case, his difference got in the way when it came to the strap between his legs. So he had no choice but to place the strap next to his member and testicles, which wasn’t exactly pleasant. Every pull on the saddle irritated his sensitive area and he almost envied the ponygirls. Why had nature made them so perfect for this task and denied him this fortune? But as it was, now that the saddle was halfway on his back, Timothy dared to try on some boots. He had to search for a long time to find a pair that fitted his large feet. They were still too small, but at least he was able to slip them on, albeit with his toes bent. The boots were bright red and painted with a colourful floral pattern, which Timothy was particularly fond of; a preference that had earned him a few sharp comments from Tiger. In general, Tiger was not a fan of Timothy wanting to be ridden. He had often made it clear that this was not appropriate for stallions, but Timothy had long since stopped listening. Once again his eyes wandered to the horses’ tails and his whole body began to sweat slightly with excitement. It was probably just the heat in the stable, he thought to himself, but that was a lie he liked to tell himself. He shook himself briefly and tried to slide his arms under the saddle instead, and to his surprise he actually succeeded. The saddle sat somewhat loosely on his back, and so he was able to push his arms under the flexible leather, albeit with great difficulty. Anyone who saw him now would have clearly recognised the joy between his legs at his success, but Timothy was blind to it. Instead, he walked straight out of the shed with his head held high, ready to face his new future. It was an incredible feeling to step out into the world as a riding horse. He could feel the wind on his body, and for a moment, it seemed as if even the birds in the trees were singing just for him. Of course, he hadn’t missed the irony of having to tie himself up so tightly to feel free, but some things in life were complicated and that didn’t bother him in the slightest. He trotted — he loves the sound of that word — across the yard at a fast pace, right past the mares, who stared at him with wide eyes. No doubt this was not what they had expected today, but should they just stare, he thought, soon he would be waiting there with them and be useful. “Run, Firelily, run!” Solaria cheered him on. Timothy rolled his eyes, even at a moment like this she had to make fun of him. But ultimately, it didn’t matter, he just needed the approval of Horox, who was preparing a mare for fieldwork. Timothy made a wide circle, then neighed loud enough for Horox to hear him. The old goblin turned around in amazement and stared open-mouthed at Timothy. “What are you doing, Timothy?” he asked in a serious voice that felt like a bucket of cold water over Timothy’s head. Immediately, his energy and joy evaporated, and he felt hideously stupid jumping across the yard like that. He stammered something through the horse’s bit, but apart from a whinny, nothing came through. “Tack!” Horox ordered, and Timothy went to his knees with a tingling sensation in his stomach. Horox had never used that command on him before, and it felt good! “You’re not a mare, Timothy. I know how much you don’t want to go, but you can’t change it.” He took Timothy’s head in his arms and squeezed him lovingly. “This is a place for mare and stallion. You are none of those things. I’m sorry, but you can’t stay.” He took the horse bit from Timothy’s mouth. “Please, I would rather not leave!” Timothy pleaded. “I’m useful. I can be ridden. Really!” But Horox shook his head. “Goblins don’t ride stallions. And not human men either. I’m sorry, I really am. If there was a way, I’d keep you. But I don’t have the money to feed you and…” “What?” asked Timothy. There was something Timothy had noticed for a long time, but had never quite understood. “And you’re not registered. At least not like this. Do you see the numbers on Tiger and the ponygirls? Those are their registration numbers, you know that, right?” Timothy nodded. “You don’t have one. Until you came of age, you were registered as a foal and therefore protected. But that’s over now. You’ll get a travelling number from the coachman, which will protect you in Goblinland under his watchful eye. But that’s only for a short time. Otherwise, anything can happen to you if you get caught.” “But I want to be a pony!” said Timothy, stamping his feet. “Believe me, you don’t want that with some folks. You have to go to the humans, only there are you safe. You have no place with us goblins.” Timothy neighed unhappily. “Master, please ride me at least once.” “Stop calling me master!” growled Horox. “You’re not my pony. I’ll take this saddle off you, it doesn’t fit you properly anyway.” Although Timothy was used to being naked and hated people’s clothes, losing a saddle was a new experience. It was like having the skin ripped off his body, and now he was standing there in the square with his insides exposed. It was a horrible feeling. “Get dressed again, the carriage must arrive soon.” — Half an hour later, the cart rolled along the narrow dirt track, its four wide wooden wheels kicking up a lot of dust that covered everything. A single, sturdy ponygirl pulled the cart, fighting the weight with impressive stamina. Timothy couldn’t take his eyes off her, though he certainly wasn’t looking at her like Tiger was. Her powerful legs pounded over the path as she braced herself firmly against the wide straps that connected her to the cart. The goblin in the driver’s seat steered her casually with the reins in one hand as he swung a long whip that cracked repeatedly on her ass. This was what heaven looked like to Timothy; if, unfortunately for him, he didn’t end up on the loading area. “Are you ready?” asked Horox, holding Timothy’s damp hand. He, too, had a lump in his throat, while the mares wept bitterly in the background. Even Tiger had come to the stable door — as far as his chain would allow — and looked at his son with sad eyes. He had seen many of his children move, but none had he come to know as well as Timothy. “No,” Timothy replied curtly, coughing as the cart came to a halt in front of him and the dust enveloped him and Horox. “Is this Horox’s farm?” asked the goblin from the driver’s seat. He was wearing a wide hat and had a scar across his face. “Is that the cargo? “That’s Timothy,” Horox said, his voice cracking. “He needs to go to the human side. Do you have the necessary documents with you?” “He’s a bit… old. What happened, did you forget him in the stables?” Horox growled. “Why should you care? Are you doing it or not?” Timothy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. “It’s all right. I’ve got everything here. This is your copy. Do you have the number we need to paint on his back?” Horox nodded. “Timothy, take off your shirt for a minute,” Horox demanded. “Tack!” Timothy was sure that Horox had only said that to make Timothy feel better, and it did indeed help. He got to his knees and felt the other goblin draw a number right between his shoulder blades. “This will let the soldiers on the line know why I’m taking him out of our country. Pray no raiders attack us. They don’t care about that sort of thing.” “Does this happen often?” asked Timothy, who wasn’t sure whether this was good or bad for him. “Rarely. But it happens,” said the goblin. “Up you go, we don’t have all day. “Master, I don’t want to…” Timothy began, but Horox cut him off with a quick wave of his hand. “Stop with the stupid master. You’re not my pony.” His eyes softened. “On the cart with you, or I’ll get the whip.” He smiled at Timothy, knowing full well that the young man didn’t necessarily dislike the idea. But Timothy obeyed and climbed up, finding a place among the pots, pans, sacks, and crates. It wasn’t very comfortable, but goods had no say in the matter. The coachman gave his mare the whip and the cart set off. It hadn’t even left the yard when Timothy panicked. Sweat ran down his forehead, and his whole future seemed to turn black before his eyes. Without thinking, he stood up and jumped off the cart. Behind him, he heard the cart screech and skid to a halt. “Timothy, what are you doing?” grumbled Horox. “If you want to be my pony, then obey me. I order you to climb onto the cart. Fine, I’ll make it a little easier for you. You can take off your shirt and trousers, but the rest stays on. Put them both neatly on the cart, understand?” Timothy nodded and, relieved, did as ordered. At least he had regained some freedom. But before he could climb up, Horox stopped him. “Not so fast. You still seem to need something.” The old goblin smiled broadly and held up a thin rope. He walked behind Timothy, took his hands and tied them behind his back, just like you would with a ponygirl. Timothy’s heart beat faster. It was a loving parting gift from his friend, and he was truly grateful for it. “Thank you,” Timothy whispered and gave the old goblin a kiss on his bald head. “I’ll miss you,” Horox said in a trembling voice. “I wish you had been born a mare.” Timothy didn’t answer, partly because he didn’t know what to say. Not only did he not have the words, he simply didn’t know what to think. Instead, he clambered awkwardly — without hands — onto the cart and sat down next to the hideous human clothes. The carriage set off again, but this time Timothy remained seated. He closed his eyes and ignored everything around him. He knew that if he looked back, he would jump down again. It was hard enough to control himself as it was, one last look at his family would be too painful. “My name is Feriox, by the way,” said the coachman. “And up ahead is my impetuous mare Ironfoot. Believe me, the name fits, no one has a harder kick than her. But don’t worry, she may be wild, but she won’t hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” Timothy only had a feeble nod in reply, his thoughts were bothering him too much. — The journey had already taken over three hours, and they were approaching the furthest point Timothy had ever travelled. His world had been small, but it had always been enough for him. But now he had to go out into the great distance, and he would be all alone. He was boredly studying the trees at the side of the road when he noticed a small light darting between the broad trunks. It zigzagged around, sometimes up, then down, and even stopped in midair. Timothy had never seen anything like it before, and it couldn’t really exist. Unless it was… no, Timothy thought, those were just stories. Almost as if the light had heard him, it changed course and headed straight for the cart. Timothy ducked, and the light shot right over his head. What the hell was that? He raised his head, but then the light turned around and raced straight towards him. Timothy closed his eyes out of reflex, but then nothing happened. Only a strange buzzing or hissing sound could be heard, and he dared to open his eyes again. A fairy was fluttering in midair in front of him! That was impossible. Yet, the little flying girl scrutinised him closely as he stared at her with wide eyes. “You’re pretty skinny for a stallion,” she squeaked in a high-pitched voice. “Where are they taking you?” Timothy swallowed loudly. “What are you?” That was a stupid question, of course, the answer was obvious, but his mind hadn’t quite caught up with him yet. “A fairy, you blockhead! I’m Minoria the Magnificent,” she cried theatrically, fluttering around his head. Timothy looked at the driver, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Don’t worry, goblins can’t see fairies. Only humans. And even among you, very few; or the horses ignore us. You were watching me fly, I noticed that straight away. You look sad, what’s wrong?” Timothy told her everything. He didn’t know why, but he just had to get it off his chest. “You want to be ridden? That goblin god’s nonsense must have really screwed with your head. Be glad you’re joining the humans. At least you’ll be free.” “I’m free with Horox!” shouted Timothy, but again the driver didn’t react. “You can’t understand that.” “Obviously. But if you’re not a good stallion and you want to stay, why don’t you become a mare?” Timothy screwed up his face. “How is that supposed to work?” “I don’t know, I’m not human! Can’t you transform or something?” “No! And besides…” Timothy began, but then there was a loud bang and he almost flew out of the carriage. “What happened?” This time the coachman must have heard him, or he just said it because it made sense anyway: “The road’s bad, Ironfoot got stuck somewhere. The poor thing has fallen.” He jumped off the cart and looked after his horse with surprising affection — for being a goblin who liked to use his whip. “That doesn’t look good, her leg is probably broken, and we’re hours away from the nearest camp. This area isn’t exactly densely populated. A farmer will have to lend us a mare.” Timothy sat unsteadily on the flatbed and watched as Ironfoot dragged herself around the cart. It was a terrible sight that softened his heart. “You have to take her place,” Minoria whispered in his ear. “You can be his ponygirl. Do it.” Timothy swallowed again. He wasn’t a ponygirl, but… he could be useful. Be of service to someone. Fulfil a purpose. Be free. “I can help,” he blurted out, loud enough to make Feriox and Ironfoot flinch in surprise. “What did you say?” Feriox asked. “I can pull the cart.” “You’re not a ponygirl. Sit back down.” Minoria fluttered around him. “You have to convince him! Be his ponygirl. It’s silly, but if you want it that badly, do it!” “I can do it, I promise,” Timothy said. “Even if you could — which I don’t think you can — you’re still not a girl. Only ponygirls pull carts. It’s a legal issue, but also one of faith. We goblins have morals too. We only use humans as animals because our faith tells us to. There are clear rules for this, and one of them states that only girls and women may be used as riding and working animals. No offence, but you may be skinny, but you’re not a girl.” “He’s almost convinced,” Minoria said, landing on Timothy. “Be stubborn!” “But this is an emergency. My arms are already tied. All you have to do is dress me up and I’ll be fine.” “Why do you want this so badly?” Feriox asked sceptically. “You’re supposed to be with the humans. What do you see in pulling a cart?” “That’s none of your business, Timothy hissed, and Minoria praised him quietly. “Do you want to sit here in the dirt and watch Ironfoot bleed, or do you want me to pull you both to camp? My arms are already bound, you just have to do the rest.” Feriox thought about it for a long time, then nodded. “Fine, my faith allows me that much flexibility. And if not, it’s a small sin. You obviously want it, so what the hell. Come down and we’ll get you ready.” Timothy’s heart beat wildly in his chest. This was what he’d dreamed of — at least it was a start. He’d rather be dashing through the forest with Horox on his back right now, but being a useful pony at all was a good step. He stood behind the cart and, despite his arms, managed to help Ironfoot into the back. Feriox had taken the pony’s things off her first: The boots, the bridle, and the horse’s bit, still wet with her saliva. Ironfoot stretched her jaw and then said: “I’ve never met anyone like you. But thank you. Have fun with the whip.” “Quiet, Ironfoot,” she admonished Feriox, but the mare only stuck her tongue out at him playfully. The two were obviously a well-rehearsed team, and now it was Timothy’s turn to take over her role. “First we need to dress you up a bit. You’ve got a good physique for a woman — no offence — except for a few things that are missing, or too much. I’ve got some wide straps that hide everything between your legs. I’ve got a trick for around the top.” To Timothy’s great shame, he fetched a long scarf and a few scraps of cloth. He wrapped the scarf around his upper body so tightly that it hugged his chest. He stuffed the scraps of cloth into it until the outline of two rather ample breasts formed, making Timothy blush deeply. Ironfoot burst out laughing, but she also praised his rack. Timothy wiggled his new breasts, and it felt oddly fitting. “They look good on you,” Minoria said, still perched on his shoulder. “I guess you’re going to be a real ponygirl after all. All you need is a ponytail… or another stallion?” “Shut up!” Timothy hissed, but the fairy just chuckled. “What should I call you? With Timothy, everyone knows something’s wrong.” “Fire…” Timothy began out of reflex, but he bit his tongue before he’d finished saying it. “Firelily.” “A fitting name,” said Feriox with a grin. “You must have thought about it before. Interesting.” Timothy grumbled, but he preferred to concentrate on standing still while Feriox put on his boots — which fitted surprisingly well — and then the rest. The bridle was a little tighter than necessary, but the horse bit took him straight back to heaven, even if he would have gladly done without Ironfoot’s spit. Again he grinned broadly and bit down on the pleasant wood, which in this case had a wholly different flavour. He liked it. Meanwhile, Feriox fastened the straps between his new breasts, which bounced outwards even more. It wasn’t entirely convincing, and would certainly raise some questions, but it was better than nothing. Shortly afterwards, Timothy stood in front of the cart as Firelily and was finally harnessed to the cart by Feriox. Firelily could hardly believe it, she really was a useful ponygirl now — at least for now. It was strange what paths the world sometimes offered you, but you either followed them or you didn’t. “You look good,” Minoria complimented. “Very pretty. I’m sure you look a lot like your mother, Firelily.” She just neighed and prepared herself for the start. She felt Feriox climb onto the cart, then heard the cutting screech of the whip in the air before the leather tongue kissed her buttocks hard. It was an indescribable feeling, and she should hate it, but for Firelily it was a promising invitation to a whole new life. If she could convince Feriox that she was useful here and now, maybe she wouldn’t have to join the humans. She braced herself with all her strength against the cart, which was much heavier than it looked. She moaned in high-pitched tones around the horse’s bit, but then the cart started to move. The whip hit her again and again, and she was always grateful for it. A ponygirl needed the whip, a ponygirl wanted the whip. She giggled around the horse bit, picking up speed until she reached a slow trot. It wasn’t fast, but enough to pull the cart to the next camp. “Good girl, keep it up,” Feriox praised, and Firelily wiggled her bum. It might not be as wide and shapely as the other ponygirls’, but it was good enough for a whip. Maybe even for a ponytail. A pleasant shiver went down her spine when she thought about it. She walked on without thinking, feeling the first tug of the reins, and yet she reacted entirely on instinct, as if she had never done anything else in her life. Feriox guided her reins lightly and gently, but it was enough for his new ponygirl. She responded excellently and quickly. “You’re doing very well. Good girl. When we get to camp, maybe I’ll consider letting you stay after all.” Firelily neighed loudly and contentedly, bracing herself against the cart once more. She would be useful. She would become a horse that always listened obediently to her master’s reins while serving him. “Have fun, Firelily,” Minoria whistled and dashed back into the forest. But above all, she would be free.

Part 20 The square had an eerily still silence to it. The sun hadn’t even risen at that point, but I already left Chloe’s apartment to start the day, there was nothing else I could have done as my brain refused to give me a long rest after the news Hamish gave me… how could anyone have a good night’s sleep after the news that their parent was soon going to die. I told Chloe everything that was said over the phone, I couldn’t exactly hide the information from the person who was lying in the same bed as I was, but she did her best to console me afterwards. No words were said for the rest of the night, but she held me close until she fell asleep on top of me… I managed to get a few hours afterwards, but it didn’t last long. ...

Part 4 Chapter 17: Out of the Frying Pan Everything looked different when Ellie emerged from the alley clutching the torn and soiled remains of the peasant dress to her body. The view was the same albeit that the sun was higher and the shadows shorter; there was the market, the square, down the street ahead she could see the tavern where she’d spent the night but the details were different, sharper as if a filter had been applied to her vision so the details she’d noticed before became clearer and new ones caught her attention. ...

Chapter 25 I watched as a ladybug crawled across the collection of leaves in front of me, I steadied my breathing whilst I examined how it crawled across the plants, easily moving from one side of my vision to the other, the last thing I wanted to do was to accidentally breathe too heavily and push it off it’s path. The bug had been the most entertaining thing that happened to me within the last ten minutes, I had spent most of the morning chasing my sister around this new playground we found ourselves in, we seemed to have lost Thea rather quickly, unsure on whether the woman genuinely couldn’t find us or if she let us roam around her parents garden as she went on to do something else. Soon, chasing Emily around became a struggle, the young woman managed to stay out of my grasp despite enjoying the chase and wanting to be captured by me; instead I turned to hiding in a nearby bush and then, waiting for her to crawl past, I would strike. ...

Arnold Davidson sat on the stage-front barstool at the Krazy Kat Klub just as he had done every night for the past two and a half weeks. He was relatively young– mid to late twenties– and there was a military bearing to the way he stood and walked. But his slight limp and some obvious, but muted, scars on the right side of his face made it clear that his fighting days were behind him. ...

Maya entered her favorite stretch of the woods with a bounce to her gait that mirrored her good mood. Finally, after all the stresses of the week, she got some time to herself. The old-growth trees felt welcoming to her, their branches reaching high into the sky as if celebrating something. They were drinking in the sunlight and fresh air in a way that she longed to imitate. The rolling hills made her think of very slow waves, and briefly imagined them flowing back and forth in her mind’s eye. She’d made a point to dip her hand into every stream she’d crossed, and loved the fields and meadows for their softly flowing grasses and wildflowers. The time simply flew by as she floated from one location to the next. Hiking here was as close as she could usually manage to feeling one with nature, but today, she had some additional plans to let herself truly feel free. ...

The courtroom is dimly lit, the air thick with anticipation. I stand before the bench, the polished wood gleaming under the stern gaze of Judge Emma. Her reputation precedes her—whispers of her ironic punishments have spread like wildfire since the government unleashed these “incentive judges” to tackle petty crimes in an overcrowded system. She adjusts her robes, her piercing eyes locking onto you as the faint hum of the crowd fades into silence. The gavel rests in her hand, poised for judgment. ...

Part 2 …My improvised cutting-board paddle was only so bad, even with the surprisingly strong Alice wielding it, but what was most profound for me was laying my naked-self across her lap like a naughty child to receive my punishment; I’m talking serious flashbacks back towards my naughty-years youth. The sound was more intimidating than the sting itself - just as it was back then with Mrs. Henderson - but Alice was setting the obvious precedent of corporally punishing me for even minor social misbehavior, therefore correcting my bad behavior, not truly wishing to physically injure me. She had held her left hand firmly between my shoulder blades while her right did the deed with a near-athletic efficiency and follow-through, telling me this wasn’t the first time she had ever paddled a naughty adult. I didn’t know exactly what to do with my hands during my punishment either, but I had a pretty good idea what not to do with them! So in short, I wasn’t left crying like a little boy by the time Alice was done with me, but I most certainly wasn’t laughing either… ...

Part 2 “Let’s go already,” Oswald growled, his voice growing more aggravated in the dark, “Daylight is coming and we won’t have this opportunity for a good long while.” The cold night air stung my skin as I stumbled out of the car, the heels of my stilettos sinking into the soft dirt of the roadside. The leather cuffs around my ankles and knees had been unlocked, but the collar remained tight around my neck, the chain leash jerking me along like a dog. The forest loomed ahead, a wall of darkness that seemed to swallow the dim light from the car. The fear of the unknown was a living entity in my chest, beating in sync with my racing heart. ...

The Select Bank headquarters slouches toward the riverbank, nothing like its competitors’ skyscrapers in the core of downtown a couple miles away. The office we’re sitting in, though, is just as sleekly appointed as any of its counterparts I’ve seen in the last four months. Below the huge windows of the top-floor office, its strip of landscaping gives way to the tangle of undeveloped land it neighbors. I’m sure the clientele appreciates the privacy. The river here is wide and sluggish, a single small boat picking its way upstream. ...

As she heard the downstairs door close, Sydney reviewed her situation. The lights were dimmed and a couple pleasant-smelling candles were lit. The pleasant ambient heat was making the linen sheets feel cool on her skin. And she had a lot of skin exposed to it, too. She had removed all of her clothing about twenty minutes before, in order to set the mood for her wife’s arrival. “Syd? You home?” Alyssa called out while setting her things down. ...

Epilogue It was an absolutely beautiful night. The skies were clear and the stars twinkled overhead like a vast and glittering blanket, so bright that even the city’s light pollution could not hide the awe inspiring scope of the firmament. Moreover the heat of the day had finally faded into a gentle and comfortable warmth while a light breeze stirred the balmy air and eased the heavy humidity that had settled during the day. And yet the slender figure slowly making her way down the mostly abandoned streets, flitting from shadow to shadow like a ghost as she passed through the pools of light cast by overhead streetlamps, was hardly paying attention to the view. ...

Part 1 Chapter 1: The Predicament ‘Say ‘yes’!’ Valerie tugged on the chain connecting Amanda’s nipple clamps. ‘Nggghh!’ Amanda shook her head even as she arched her back growling defiance into her gag. Amanda was spread on the bed, held on her back by leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles that were tied by leather thongs to the bedposts. She was naked save for a black leather collar that was padlocked around her neck and her smooth, tanned skin glistened. ...

Sarah Jackson sighed as she parked her car in her usual parking spot behind the office of the Warwick Times. “Oh well, another day another dollar,” she thought, grabbing her travel cup full of coffee and walking into reception. So far, being a journalist wasn’t what she had expected at all. Far from writing damning exposes about the government or revealing the sordid secrets of some minor local celebrity, to date she had covered three school events, a case of rubbish bins going missing, and a piece about a very wet day standing outside the local community centre on election day. ...

…“You really got yourself into a pickle this time Gary,” my sometimes snarky inner voice observes, all while I’m straddling a storm-uprooted two foot diameter oak tree while just as naked as the day I was born. This was a state forest and near no trail system that I knew of, but still close enough to the roadway that if one listened carefully you could still hear the passage of a particularly noisy truck or motorcycle. It also happened to be summer where I lived, so motorcycle season, and the forest was just perfectly magnificent on this particular morning too. ...

William was your average middle-American teenager, living with his parents in a modest home in a quaint, friendly neighborhood. His family purchased the home when he was three years old, and throughout his childhood, he became acquainted with most of his neighbors, both young and old; he trusted them. Like his own parents, they were hardworking, honest people. They did each other favors, looked after one another, and gathered during the holidays. It was an idyllic community, a relic of a bygone era. William was particularly fond of an elderly, childless widow named Olga. Olga, who would never reveal her true age, had immigrated to the United States from Russia - likely after World War II. ...

Part 16 I could still feel the soft touch of Saffron’s hands on my body, each one eagerly exploring every last inch of what I had to offer. The bound state I found myself in fully allowed every intent both of the women had, giving little to no resistance as they used my nude form for their own pleasure. All I could do was arch my fingers as several different feelings travelled over my body, my wrists being bound together allowed little more movement than that, my torso was constantly lifted up under the power the two women held and my legs were fully controlled by them, moving them into as many positions as they liked as if I was some sort of puppet. ...

Part 15 I struggled to contain my breaths as my movements increased. I felt sweat begin to travel down my neck as I pushed myself harder than I have ever done before, I knew I needed to get better at this, I knew who I was right then wasn’t enough, I knew I needed more strength. The trees whipped by me at a rapidly growing rate. The cool morning air flew through my hair, whistling through my ears and pushed against my tired body. I took two large breaths before my body begged me to cease all movement, involuntarily forcing my legs to stop in place. It was a much calmer morning, a collection of clouds covered the entire sky and blocked the world from the burning sun. ...

“…So what happens now?” a very sated and perplexed Master Henry asks; his mind perhaps seeking an island of normalcy in the sea of insanity and debauchery. He’s really not a bad man - a mere villain of convenience - despite what one watching at home might think based on the “show” he’s provided, with me obviously as the reluctant proverbial “whipping-girl” star. There’s also a kind of clarity that happens, post orgasm for men in particular, when men start thinking with more of their intellectual brain, and less with the caveman one, or to be a bit crude; the little head that all that blood was just rushing into. To also be fair, men aren’t the only ones to have this little temporary sexual insanity; so I recognize this change in his eyes for what it is, a “what have I done?” look ...

1: How Did I Get Here? …The year was twenty fifty seven, crime had skyrocketed, the prisons were full, and space was needed for the more violent criminals. Society had already decided that coddling criminals didn’t work, after a series of violent and grisly crime scene videos were released to the public; only when these kinds of things started happening to the wealthy and connected inside their gated communities - as they were the only ones with things worth stealing - did a true solution emerge. It had been no accident, the elites had wanted to cause such behavior, upend society, but they foolishly didn’t envision that horror ever coming to their own proverbial neighborhoods… ...

Part 12 The last thing that Brianna Wilde remembered was passing out, or more precisely slipping into the endlessly comforting warmth of subspace as she was pushed to the very edge of her endurance by a wonderfully skilled and wickedly pierced tongue. It was not exactly an unfamiliar experience, truth be told, but even now she could not help but smile just a bit at the memory of a slender, latex clad figure pinning her in place as she struggled within the confines of her bonds. And yet, even as she reminisced about the strange juxtaposition and intense pleasure to be found in being dominated by a woman confined in a bitchsuit, a faint tremble wracking her body as ghostly sensations seemed to run over her skin, the blue-haired girl began to realize that she could actually move again. ...

Chapter 1 The bar at the hotel lobby was grand and palatial. I sat down at a quiet table in the corner and ordered a scotch on the rocks. A few minutes after they served me my drink, I saw her standing at the open double doors looking around. When she noticed me, she took a deep breath and wound her way around the other hushed conversations until she reached my table. ...

Volunteering to Watch Her When a man catches his girlfriend getting ready for camming, an accident happens that causes her webcam to break. He didn’t know about her camming, but is ok with it, so he somehow turns himself into a camera for her to use. It was an evening like so many others for Ashley. Her boyfriend, Sam, was at his place playing video games while she was by herself at home. Some girlfriends might be jealous or upset that he wasn’t there to pay attention to her, but she wasn’t. In fact, it was convenient because she had to work that evening and she didn’t want him to know about it. ...

I want to let you all know about an experience I had recently that I think you will enjoy (more than I did). My previous stories were almost entirely fiction, but this one has a lot of elements that really happened (although I have embellished a little) I’m a very shy, conservative girl, who has always been deeply embarrassed about my body and would never change in a public changing room for example. I would only wear conservative clothes and if I did go swimming would wear a bathing suit rather than a bikini. It’s not that I have a bad body. I’ve just always been really self conscious and embarrassed about it being seen. ...

Part 23. A Taste of Brandy With Master Robert Emma and Kit left the suite after getting ready post dinner. Well, Emma had to get ready at least. Emma was in a sheer black bodystocking that encased her from collar to toes. It was long sleeved that stretched to extend over the back of her hands and held by a loop of fabric over her middle finger. A black leather under bust corset with three gold buckles on the front constricted her waist, but not as tight as many others she has worn. Princess figured that they didn’t know what would happen, so she would be dressed in a way things could easily be removed. A gold micro miniskirt barely covered much of anything, and her chastity belt was definitely on display even under the bodystocking and skirt. The finishing touch to match the theme was the black pumps with a gold sole and heel on each. All other accessories were left behind and her hair pulled into a ponytail. ...

Chapter 21 I finally breathed a long sigh of relief the moment the van pulled back up to the stable. My body was exhausted from a day of delivering parcels and I still had a long journey until we were back home. The sun was beginning the descent down the horizon, bringing the beautiful blue day to a bright orange, looking as if the star had set the sky on fire. Whilst it was amazing to look at, the dark clouds floating above me began to make me nervous, realising that the weather might not be as good for the journey home; I was getting desperate to return Becky back to Tanya’s. ...

…“What do you want to do for Halloween THIS year dear?” I asked my significant other. “I’ve got nothing, literally not a clue,” he responded back. I feel the same way to be honest, so I can’t find fault, I’m just not into it at all this year particularly. We simply don’t get near the volume of trick-or-treaters like we used to back before covid; there used to be easily a hundred, but last year that number was maybe fifteen total, to include the little ones on our block and their precious costumes though. It was at one time a great way to get reacquainted with the neighbors, just a fun party-like night, but if last year was any sign of the times we knew it would be all over shortly after dusk, and we’d be left with far too much extra candy in the house… ...

Sid is a good friend of mine from days long past. He has fallen on hard times. A lot of the men… and women… who have been the places we have been and done the things which we have done, have been overwhelmed by what has been burned into their memory once they try to “return to society.” Many, like Sid, try to drown the memories of what they saw… or did. When that didn’t work, he fell totally apart… booze, broads, drugs, everything, until he ran out of money and then did whatever it took to get another bottle or another fix. Sid became a homeless bum. But he was there with us. So he is still one of us. So we are still there with him. ...

John has the best Halloween parties ever. I attended the first one of his parties ten years ago. I’m not on the guest list, never have been, but no one knows that. There are always a lot of party crashers at John’s Halloween parties. Part of the thrill of John’s parties is that everyone is totally anonymous. Many years ago such masked parties were quite the rage, but modern costumes and disguises are so much better. In fact, reasonably priced modern latex masks and stage makeup are so good that some guests can arrive, participate in hours of decadent pleasure, and then leave without anyone ever knowing who they are. ...

Belinda Barnotti, known to her friends as BB, stood at the entrance to the Witch Hill Nunnery Museum silently debating with herself. She was almost a Doctor of Anthropology. All that was left for her to gain her PhD was to complete her thesis. Then she had to make a name for herself by turning that thesis into a book. That would make her a well-known anthropologist. Well-known anthropologists get teaching jobs in prestigious universities. Unknown anthropologists end up in the basement of a museum cataloging things that no one will ever see. ...

You are in a forest. It is night. The place is oddly familiar but you are confused by the darkness. Your arms are bound behind you and, when you look down, you see that you are naked. You know that you are being hunted and when you hear the baying of the hounds and shrill wail of horns you begin to run. The loam of the forest floor is soft and cushions your bare feet but you quickly realise it also saps the strength from your legs, hampering your progress, slowing you and fuelling your fear. Oddly, the fact that you are bound is comforting. Your lover enjoys binding you and you enjoy it when she restrains you. She is a skilled lover and when she teases you while bound, her cool fingers caressing your bare skin, tracing down between your breasts and across your belly, your body burns with desire long before the those slender fingers find their way between your thighs to stroke your eager sex and push your body to a pleasure that sometimes makes you scream. ...

The Karodang house has been on the side of the hill… forever. There are some old frontier pictures of great-great-great-grandma’s sod house from when they first settled their farm and the old stone house is in the background sticking out of “Granite Hill” as the locals call it. Some people from the state university came down and dug around a little both inside and outside of Karodang. Their only conclusion was, “It’s old.” They also said, “Maybe it was used as a hunting shelter.” But they couldn’t find any evidence of anyone having actually lived there. There were no fire pits or pieces of pottery or arrowheads or anything like that to indicate it was used as a dwelling. “Maybe it was supposed to be a tomb,” one of them said as they gathered up their things to leave. He added just before he left, “That word carved into the stone above the door is Kerudung. It’s an Indonesian word for mirror or something like that, but it’s written in what appears to be a variation of an old Indonesian alphabet. I wonder how that language got way the hell over here. I wonder even more how people around here knew to call this… whatever it is… something so close to that.” ...

Witch’s Vibes Valentina Banesman let out a moan as the bells of the front door jingled. Her assistant was between her legs licking her pussy. She was nearing an orgasm as the interruption happened. It was disappointing as she was actually enjoying her assistant’s ritual that turned her tongue into a fleshy vibrator while reaping the benefits of it. Valentina Banesman was only her current identity. She had been cursed by a rival witch who was a scorned lover once upon a time. Her curse had been quite nasty and took her years to counteract parts of it so she could be back in society unnoticed. The last part of the curse has left her immortal, but she was no longer an ugly, plague-infested hag. She had found a way to change her appearance to whatever she preferred these days. ...

Part Nine: Conclusion …I was left both hanging in my bonds, and dripping and drooling all over the deck by the time the nine Begorians were finally done with me; it was truthfully an experience like no other. This also left a biological sample of each of them filling me, and obviously overfilling me as well, not to mention the unique feeling of something hot being forcefully delivered time and again deep within my depths… ...

It was Kate who came up with the idea of adding a little bondage to spice up her marriage to Sam, but he who took her suggestion much farther and much faster than she expected. Not that she minded, for from the very first time he handcuffed her and she felt cool, hard, inescapable steel tighten on her limbs, Kate was immediately hooked on the addictive pleasures of being made a helpless captive and having no choice but to submit to his will. ...

It was the start of the month, and time to make the spousal support payment. The only problem was that Laura, my ex-wife, was working at a summer camp way up north in the woods. She had told me I needed to drop the money off in cash Saturday afternoon at 3:00 in person, just putting it in her bank would not do. I couldn’t figure out why the specific time, then I found out that everyone else at camp was going to be on a trip, and Laura was going to be practically the only one there. Unfortunately with the divorce decree she could get away with that, but I could always fight it. Krista was real unhappy about all of this. She had the almost insane conviction that Laura was going to try something, to try to seduce me; if not to steal me back then to drag me through the mud over it to damage my relationship with Krista. ...

Chapter 20 “Oh, come here you silly thing!” Tanya said. Becky’s thin body was enveloped quickly by the large shop owner, with the young woman’s head being placed between Tanya’s enormous breasts. It wasn’t a normal day, I cannot think of any other time there had been this much hugging between us three. Becky herself wasn’t much for contact or touching in general, yet here she was, cuddling both of us as if she was saying goodbye. ...

Chapter 1: Handing Over Far away from civilization, in a field near the dark goblin forest to the east, a host of strong and young knights clad in shining armor sat atop their noble horses, their faces twisted with horror and disgust as they watched what was happening before them. Standing a mere dozen meters opposite the knights was a band of snickering goblin raiders. These wretched creatures had yellow teeth, wide-eyed ugly faces, and hunched backs; they wore rags and wielded rusty knives and clubs as weapons. Rather than horses, they rode on enslaved elven and human women tightly bound and moaning in constant, humiliating lust. ...

3: Sirocco Don got the strangest phone call from Greg. Nel had asked him to come out to a spot in the desert near the area they called “the canyon”. Not there, but nearby and equally as desolate while still only a few miles outside of the desert town where they lived. Don was fine with it; it sounded interesting and he didn’t have anything else going on that Saturday summer morning. ...

“If you would please sign here, Lady Croft.” The delivery driver said, handing her a clipboard. Lara Croft signed for the package, a white cardboard box roughly the size of a DVD player. He handed it to her as she returned the clipboard, and then with a polite smile and a nod, he returned to his truck and drove away. Lara walked back into the manor house and went immediately to her study. She set the box on her desk and examined the shipping label. Strangely, there was no return address. Could it be a bomb? That seemed unlikely. If the package contained explosives, the new security sensors she had installed at the manor would’ve detected them and raised an alarm. Still, might there be some reason to be concerned about what might be inside? ...

…I love to hike in the woods, always have ever since I was a child, many times with my dog for both company and protection. It’s an amazing bond that one can form, and it may be terrible to say but I sometimes prefer the company of dogs over certain humans. So she’s a good dog with an incredible nose, but not what you’d call aggressive, although if somebody put their hand on me she’d probably get pretty nasty and protective. Anyway, where I live there are things in the forest that can potentially eat you, especially if you present yourself as an easy meal, and as insurance against that I not only have my puppy dog - with her very good nose - but also a revolver in my day pack, just in case. ...

Burning Bridges Intro Ariana Inoue is a 25 year old Japanese woman. She has a naturally slender body and cute face. Both are the envy of many men and women. She has a small B-cup and she stands about 140cm tall. Long black hair flows down to about her butt and she rarely wears makeup other than some eye liner. Ariana has been working from home, doing contract jobs she finds online. Often she sorts out administration problems. Or doing account reviews before tax submissions. She does Japanese and English translations from time to time as well. ...

Jill sat quietly in the passenger seat as Rick accelerated down the open stretch of route 192. It was a Wednesday afternoon. Traffic was light. She toyed absently with her short black hair. “Nervous?” came the question from the driver. It startled Jill from her thoughts. “Yeah, a little,” she lied. She was actually freaked out, but didn’t want to disappoint her lover. Rick reached over to stroke her bare leg. “Good,” he said calmly. “It adds to the excitement.” He worked his hand up till he was toying with the button on her shorts. ...

Part 7 Alice and I had put Eva into slave storage a couple of hours ago after she’d tidied away the breakfast dishes. She was naked, lying on a mattress in the spare room with her hands bound behind her back and ankles tied together. She was kept in place by a short rope tying her collar to a pipe next to the wall. “Good morning slave,” said Jeannie as we entered the room. ...

Lady Lucille’s Bar & Grill has been a fixture down on Second Street for many years. Supposedly it was once even closer to the river, but back in the big floods of ’93 it survived only because the owner and patrons got together to sandbag a six foot high flood wall all the way around it. Once the floods went down, the owner picked up the building and moved the bar three blocks– and about twenty feet in elevation– up to what was then three vacant lots on Second Street. A couple of floods have come and gone since then, and there is a new owner and a lot of new regulars… including me… but Lady Lucille’s is still going strong. ...

20: The Horror in the Sewers Ava had actually wanted to stay at home this evening and do some tests with her living clothes in peace. Although she had already covered many of the combat aspects of her uniform with her friend Summer, she hadn’t gotten around to trying out a few outfits with Greed. His shape-shifting abilities had so far been limited to her cheerleading uniform and, for fun, a superhero costume Summer had come up with. Ava was currently testing out a few outfits she had seen on the internet. A cute pink dress, a blouse with an elegant pencil skirt, out of curiosity a skin-tight latex suit with a mask that only left her eyes open and a sexy cocktail dress that she had fallen in love with. It was black, came down to Ava’s thighs and had a window of sheer fabric that went from her neck to her belly button. It was expensive, not that she lacked money, but she had more important things to buy. It must have been fate that while she was wearing the dress, her friend Summer called and invited her to go out for cocktails with the others from the cheerleading squad. It would certainly have been a nice evening if Ava had taken Greed off, but the black dress had cast a spell over her. Now she was sitting alone at a table in the club. While her comrades raised their glasses and partied more and more, Ava remained sober, despite all the cocktails and shots she drank. Instead, she was regularly reminded that she was wearing Greed as he got drunk instead of her and kept trying to get at her crotch. Every time she felt a tentacle creeping up her thigh, she would give her dress a slap and the tentacle would hastily retreat. ...

Chapter 19 One…last… time. It was an agreement that my sister and I made when we first started getting serious about each other. That one day, she would become my slave full time. She would wear the collar pretty much all the time, she would be more than happy to do everything I commanded and I would always take charge. However, it was clear that she had to get something out of the way first and that was her education, only after that, then she would forfeit her freedom to me. ...

Chapter 29 – Breaking my Fiancée Dinners with all the group in attendance were becoming more and more infrequent. Tim was gone, of course, so Lucija was spending more evenings at the dorm where she could study. Carl had moved in with Dr. Ana. It was no surprise when Mal announced that he was planning to head back and take over his father’s construction business. It was also no surprise that Reese was going with him, especially since she could continue being out graphic designer working remotely. ...

Part 22. GiGi Emma had been walking multiple decks with Janice in tow on a leash. Emma was still in her small yellow bikini with the bottoms over her chastity belt. Her high heels were the only other things she was wearing, and her feet were feeling them between the demonstration and the amount of walking, with more to go. It was something Emma happily endured as she wanted them as a part of her lifestyle including the ballet boots she had finally been using on this cruise. She would have a break from being on her feet at dinner. She wasn’t sure what her night with Master Robert would entail. But first she needed to finish her time with Janice and hoped that Janice enjoyed her surprise. ...

Chapter 28 – Nurse in a Hole It was obvious that our little community at the Chateau was about to change. That’s not to say that change hadn’t been almost constant since I inherited the run-down Chateau in Croatia and then discovered the group of English cyclists squatting on my ‘estate.’ I allowed the group to stay, we imprisoned Heather in a consensual non-consensual arrangement, I met and hired Lucija, I moved my sex toy business to Croatia and put a lot more of the group to work. After a while we met more and more locals and included Dr. Ana and her nurse Sara in the circle. ...

Chapter 25 – Sex Toy Catalog Lucija had suggested that our company’s sex toy catalog pictures, both for the web and print, were sterile. They were just pictures of our products sitting on tables or against solid backdrops. “They show the products clearly, but they don’t incite the imagination of the customers,” she argued. “Besides, we should be using short video clips, especially on the more complex electronic products.” “But we don’t have the sets, lighting or photo equipment to take the kind of shots you are suggesting.” I countered. ...

8 - A concrete plan As had happened before, having a more extreme adventure seemed to satisfy Jenny for some time, during which the less extreme games continued (and it’s odd that being buried under the shed is considered to be in the ’less extreme’ category). Mike and Liz still came round some times to indulge in either burying Jenny, strapping her to the floor boards, or locking her in either the plastic crate or the wooden box. She also continued to put her name down to go in the floor display at the club although she didn’t always get picked, and even had a second session under the wooden floor boards during a standard nightclub evening. Eventually though, Dave knew that she would be craving something new so had checked her browsing history to get an idea of what sort of thing she might find exciting. He found that she had been reading more stories about being buried, where a concrete floor was laid above the victim. Sometimes this was supposed to be permanent, but other times part of the fun was that it would take time for the floor to set, and then more time to break it open enough to retrieve the victim. ...

…It was a little bit fun, a little bit crazy, but the ocean was particularly warm for this late in the season, and almost all the tourists were thankfully gone for the year. That left us locals… Between Memorial Day and Labor Day ‘they’, meaning the endless tourists, felt a bit like an invading army, but they were also the lifeblood of the local economy too, so a little bit good, a little bit bad, all at the same time. The beach was once again ours though, just us, and the very early morning surf-casting fishermen a few hours from now; no daily passes to be paid for, but no lifeguards either. ...

Part 21. Demo With Janice 2 - Emma Tops “I better not hear any bad reviews. You will please all the paying customers beyond your best ability. You have multiple people keeping an eye on you for safety. Is there anything you need before I go, slut?” “No Miss Emma,” Brenda answered from her position restrained to a pillory. Emma swept Brenda’s hair aside, “It’s a shame you hide your beautiful face. But enjoy your afternoon before you are back in chastity.” ...

Chapter 24 – The Cistern After lunch, Mal came back to the Chateau with a large hammer drill, two large steel hinges, a large steel hasp, a huge high security padlock and a bag of long bolts. “Do you want me to have someone bring the slut up?” I asked. “No, I need to do this myself, I don’t think she’s strong enough to handle this drill and it requires a bit of experience anyway,” he replied. ...

6 - A public(ish) burial Over the next few months, Liz and Mike got to help with putting Jenny in various boxes and burying her on a number of occasions. She did some more of the sex club events where she went into the floor display box, sometimes with the shackles and other times without. Without shackles, it left her able to play with her pussy while others danced and watched and she would inevitably bring herself off several times during the hour, while those occasions with the shackles usually meant she had a vibrator stuck in her pussy for the entire time, sometimes managing to come just from the situation as the vibe was usually only set on low. The one time they left the vibe on high power she almost blacked out with the number of orgasms she had and had to be picked up and carried away from the box at the end of her hour. She couldn’t monopolise the box though, as pretty much every month saw several other people that wanted to spend time in there as well. The whole concept had been a great success and the bingo machine was called into play quite regularly to ensure fairness. ...

7 - Out in the open Jenny had thoroughly enjoyed her burial at the club, and it was made even more enjoyable when Mike gave her a copy of the video he had secretly taken of her being buried and then exhumed. She had spent many an hour playing with herself while watching that video when Dave was at work and she was at home. She also got to know Julie and her husband Frank at the next couple of club nights, as they had been at the burial as well and also had an interest in extreme bondage. Liz and Mike still came around for some of the burials that Jenny had under the shed as well and sometimes they used either the plastic crate or Mike’s box with the foam to restrain Jenny without actually burying her (as it was a lot less work), so for a few months things seemed to be fairly settled. ...

Part 6 I lay on the cold concrete floor, naked and helpless. My hands were tightly tied behind my back. My ankles were roped together with a foot of slack between them. A heavy metal collar was locked round my neck and attached by a short chain to a ring on the floor. The room was dark and windowless, the only light coming in from the cracks around the door to the adjacent room. ...

Part 12 “Shit, shit shit!” Jade kept yelling to herself as she sped down the country roads. The day had only just begun and already I was exhausted. Staying awake nearly the whole night with Jade and then spending the morning being teased with her tongue burned out pretty much all my energy before we even got to the stables. Although, I did not mind too much as it showed how much the dark haired girl craved my body, she took alot of pleasure in drawing out my torture, making me wait for any pleasure she can give me, either that or make the experience almost unbearable as she heightened all my senses with her tease and denial techniques. ...

Dave and Jenny had recently found that Jenny really wanted to try being buried in the garden, and Dave was equally keen to bury her (just for a short time). But they had found that she needed to be buried in a box rather than just have the earth piled in on top of her, as she was worried about being able to breath with anything heavier than a couple of inches of loose sand. ...

5 - The visitors After the events at the club where Jenny had been trapped in a box and then shackled to the floor of the pit while everyone else danced above her, she decided that while being buried was her ultimate turn-on, being restrained in a way that she couldn’t get out of was the next best thing. Once they had got home, she and Dave had a long chat about it before going to bed. The net result was that being buried would continue to be something that they would only do now and again, simply because it was the ultimate and they didn’t want to make it something commonplace. And then in between burials, they would explore more around being restrained or confined, like the session in the box with foam cutouts to keep her immobile. The obvious thing to try would be variations on that. ...

3 - The nightclub Dave and Jenny had been having fairly regular fun with Jenny being buried under the garden shed every few weeks. They didn’t want to do it too often, as it would have taken some of the fun away from it, so they kept it for those special weekends when neither of them had anything else planned and when they knew that neither set of parents would be coming around. After a while, Jenny wanted to try going for a whole day, so they got hold of some catheters and waste bags and experimented with using those, along with having a drinks bottle with a long flexible straw to keep Jenny hydrated. They also got a fitness tracker that would allow Dave to monitor her pulse from either his phone or his laptop, and it even showed if she was sleeping, so he didn’t have to worry as much if she stopped moving around. Using these, Jenny eventually worked her way up to staying buried for a full 24 hours, although the first time they did that Dave seemed to be in more of a mess when she came out than Jenny was. He hadn’t slept at all despite having the tracker set to alert him if her pulse went too low. ...

4 - Restraining order? The next morning Dave and Jenny talked about what Liz had said, regarding being restrained. “Most of the BDSM videos I’ve seen on the internet have been about either inflicting pain or humiliating someone, and I’ve never found those to be exciting, but the idea of not being able to move is pretty close to what I feel when buried, so maybe the two together would intensify the experience for me,” said Jenny. ...

Part 6 Despite all of her earlier bravado, some part of Brianna Wilde had wondered if she would come to regret her bold, and quite possibly foolish, decision to wear her chastity belt and literally nothing else as they headed to the convention floor. Had wondered if, as exciting as the prospect had seemed at the time, she’d freeze up as they grew closer and closer to the reality of being so utterly naked in front of a crowd. It wasn’t even the idea of being embarrassed that had bothered her, not really. She’d embarrassed herself plenty of times in the past after all. No, what had truly gotten under her skin was the thought of failing as strange as that sounded. She knew that her mistresses would not have offered a hint of protest, would have turned back instantly and without question if she’d asked, but giving up like that felt so wrong. Especially after she’d been so confident in the face of Roxanna’s gentle concern and Sofia’s bright enthusiasm. And so, despite the familiar swirl of butterflies in her stomach, and the almost thrilling tingle of nerves under her skin, the blue-haired had simply taken a deep breath and kept walking, the feeling of carpet beneath her bare feet an oddly grounding sensation. ...

Chapter 21 – Another Demerit Trial When I checked the security camera’s later that afternoon, Lucija and Paula had tied the slut’s left ankle to her left thigh, holding her left foot up to her ass. They had her standing on just her right foot. Her wrists were in suspension cuffs, I guess Lucija didn’t want any more handcuff marks. Her arms were pulled back in a strappado and tied high up on the bars. If they had tied her in this position right after I sent them downstairs, she would have been in this stressful position for about 20 minutes. I was about to get worried when I checked another camera angle and saw Paula, sitting just out of the cell, watching the slut carefully. Well, I wanted them to take the slut’s mind off her troubles. I was quite sure she wasn’t thinking about anything except when Paula was going to let her down. ...

4: Show Time II …I tried to follow our journey with the very limited visibility that I now had, but my active mind soon had little to crunch over, so I drifted mentally, like a boat untied from its moorings, or perhaps a slave accidentally detached from her indoor run. I realized that without knowing where we were going, nor how exactly we got there, any of the humans in charge of me could so easily maroon me. I’d be like a helpless abandoned castaway, and impossibly grateful if one day I was rescued. That was my level of commitment here, for the next few hours at least I was living this adventure, even if I suddenly decided that I didn’t want to… ...

Chapter 18 “Happy birthday, Baby,” a voice came from beside me. I felt like I was awake but my eyes refused to open, I felt as if I was so tired that I could go back to sleep within seconds. Even though my eyes were still closed, I could tell it was still dark out as the room was pitch black with no natural light shining through the window. “Mmmmm…” I said to agree, making myself more comfortable on the chest I was sleeping on. ...

Part 20. Conjugal Visits SLAP! Emma felt the impact across her cheek knocking her out of her slumber. SLAP! Emma felt the sting on her cheek again becoming more aware. She tried to lift her hands to protect herself, but they only moved a couple of inches as the chain clattered. She felt them pull taut with the metal bracelets encircling her wrists leaving her exposed. She barely realized her head was being held up by her hair. ...

Chapter 20 – Hard Labor & a Doctor The weekend was pretty lazy. We locked a grateful but still worn-out slut back in her cell and then fixed a big brunch. Most of the crew just laid around the Chateau or went down to the beach, relaxed, read, or listened to music. Monday should have been a slut-walk day for Heather, but Mal wanted to find out what was under the grass next to the fire pit. After breakfast he took a wheelbarrow with a mattock and a flat shovel out to the fire pit, then went and brought the slut up in her chains. When they got to the backyard, Mal used a long piece of chain to attach the slut’s ankle to one of the rebar stakes. He then handed her the keys and told her to take off the handcuffs, leg irons and transport chain. She would need her limbs free for the morning’s work. It wasn’t particularly hot, but it was a sunny day. “Here’s the sunscreen, slut, slather up, you’re going to be out here a while. ...

Part 3 Chapter 1.) Adapting to Bondage Madison had been at the beach, submitting herself to Brag for the past 14 days. During the first two days, he had solely trained her by forcing her to pull a heavy palm trunk over the sandy beach close to their camp. Later on, he instructed her to serve as a pack animal by carrying heavy jugs of water from a spring in the jungle back to campsite and pulling heavy logs and stones for the construction of a small shelter and carrying equipment and loot when he went on hunting trips. ...

Part 2 Chapter 1.) Realization A day had passed since Madison had fled into the jungle. At first, she had run away, attempting to hide, certain her tormentor would pursue her. However, after a while, she noticed he was nowhere to be seen. Confused, she decided to venture deeper into the dense green foliage, anxiously aware of the possibility of dangerous predators, and uncertain what her next move should be. ...

Getting Ready* The small camping site where the paved road ended was deserted, as usual for this time of year. It was late Sunday night, when everyone was home, so a perfect time for an outdoor stroll. There was a three-quarters moon providing a decent amount of light, without the need for flashlights to light the way. This was one of my favorite places. It was quiet, secluded and unspoiled by manmade structures, other than the rest area. Why the County had built a road out here, and added a modest camping area, was a mystery. Fortunately the road was still maintained, including a single lane dirt road that wound further out into the desert valley. That road didn’t go anywhere. It eventually deteriorated into barren desert. It was graded, at least for the first five miles, which made it ideal for walking. ...

“Shepard!” The asari Liara T’Soni woke up in a cold sweat as she had that dream again, the one she had been reliving since their last fight together. Her breathing was fast and shallow as she stared at the ceiling of her bedroom on the Normandy. She closed her eyes and held her forehead to remind herself that the time of fighting was over and Shepard was no longer there. She had sacrificed herself to save all life in the galaxy and stop the Reapers. They still weren’t sure what had happened on the Citadel, but there was no trace of Shepard’s body and she was declared dead after a long investigation. It was thanks to her sacrifice, however, that organic life could exist side by side with artificial life. ...

Chapter 17 I did not know whether I wanted to laugh or cry, the fact that I got myself into this situation was a testament of my love for my sister. It had been nearly a year since I had arrived at the new house, where I’ve explored my sexuality and my fetishes for latex and pet play. During that time we have even brought other people into our sexual world. ...

Part 19. An Unworthy Turn Emma was returning to the suite after dinner, some of the other guests greeted her along the way. She was still sore and tired from her earlier activities. Her evening was just beginning so she needed to suck it up. She got what she asked for even with the twists involved. Emma could hear a bit of yelling as there must be some commotion nearby in her mind. A few people came around the corner and hurriedly passed her. Emma soon reached the corner and turned down the corridor towards the suite. Further down the corridor and heading in her direction was a man dragging what looked like a woman by her hair. ...

Chapter 15 – New Products and Testing The next day it was business as usual around the chateau. Paula did put off Heather’s Saturday exercise walk to let her ass heal but did bring her up and let her lay in the sun all morning. Most of the group went on a half-day bike ride then spent the afternoon at the beach. More than a few times Reese, Maggie or Paula had spotted local boys watching them from the rocks as most of them didn’t have swimsuits and they tended to sunbathe nude. Being nude on beaches wasn’t that unusual around the Adriatic but it didn’t surprise me that these three bodies drew teenage boys like moths to flame. The women just waved and kept sunbathing. I wished we could take Heather to the beach, but locals would hang out there on weekends and sometime in the week. I doubt the locals would have maintained their high opinion of us if we had taken Heather, in full chains, to the beach. ...

Chapter Three - Amanda All of the staff except Julie and Jennifer were done with breakfast and at their posts by the time Rogue had showered. He hadn’t shaved because he didn’t trust the razors that Darlene and Amanda had sitting in holders next to the sink. He would shave when he got back to his ship. There were several choices from the automated food dispenser. Rogue chose an egg omelet, which was surprisingly good for something out of a food synthesizer. The two security women sat at a separate table and watched him eat. After he was done, Julie– he knew it was Julie because her name was on her uniform– Julie said, “You can take some coffee back to your ship with you. We assume you have final adjustments to make before battle.” ...

As I walk into my garage I hold out the lamp and peer into the darkness that crowds round its feeble light. The whole garage smells of oil and petrol and paraffin. A faint whiff of perfume lingers in the air, not a smell I get in here as it’s not really a woman’s place. Old Mrs Duffin from the farm came down with her van now and again but she smelt of cows and horses. ...

Chapter 14 – Demerits Trial Since we put the demerit system in place, Friday nights were ‘trial’ nights. After dinner Heather was brought upstairs in full chains and required to atone for her demerits earned in the previous week. Sometimes she was allowed upstairs to eat dinner with us. Of course, she ate on the floor next to us. Other Fridays she wasn’t fed at all. The first time Paula didn’t feed her, Heather was told she had so many demerits that her punishment would be severe, and Paula didn’t want her to throw up. Gotta love a good mind-fuck. ...

Chapter 13 – Lucija Takes Charge of Tim It was almost dinnertime so when I finished my 47th e-mail of the day I stopped work and went to find Maggie again.” “Are you going to take Lucija her clothes back, it’s almost dinner time?" I asked. “Wasn’t planning on it,” she said, handing me the handcuff keys from her pocket. “What are these for?" I asked. “I wasn’t planning to go back downstairs. Why don’t you go down and release her.” She said with a smile. ...

Part Eight: Prisoner of the Xlant II …The unyielding frame I had been attached to wasn’t going anywhere, and I felt like a part of this inanimate object because of this, my rotations eventually coming to a near frictionless stop. In other words I was little more than a thing, really a thing trapped within a thing; almost like a butterfly caught in a hungry spider’s web. If not quite a device myself, then something affixed and mounted to that device, and therefore still an integral part of it. I had been an actual new crew member onboard the Fortunate, at least for a very short period of time, but then I had been made - or one could say remade - into something much more fantastic and useful for the crew to use; and use me they did! I’d been used before though, so the precedent had already been set, but I digress. Anyway, this almost made me a technological accessory device aboard the Fortunate as well, perhaps an organically breathing and desired one - maybe even a needed one to help maintain a highly skilled crew at peak efficiency - but this is the direction my mind drifted towards when it was quiet and I could think just a bit introspectively. ...

Chapter 10 – Hiring Lucija As I headed back to my apartment for the night, Lucija called. I was a little surprised but kept cool. “OK, can you meet me at my parents’ house at 7, you can talk to my father then, not that it will do you a lot of good,” she said. “I’ll be there,” was all I said. At 7pm I rolled up to an older home but one befitting the mayor. Lucija and her mother were sitting on the front porch, obviously waiting for me. Her mother was an attractive, trim woman, I’m guessing in her mid to late 40’s. She reacted shyly but smiled warmly as Lucija introduced her. I couldn’t help but wonder how much Lucija had already told her and if I had an ally or adversary. ...

oo- Prolog -oo Samantha Henley balanced precariously on the kitchen chair, trying to clean the upper right most corner of the window. The large window, the one that looked out onto the front area of the house. It wasn’t a bad view, although a bit more cluttered than looking out the back, but Sam had always thought that with just a little work it could be transformed into a peaceful and serene view. But she was never allowed out there unescorted, he never had any interest in landscaping, and when he did escort her out there, it was for something very different than cleaning. ...

As kids, my friends and I would play ‘Hide and Go Seek’ around the neighborhood. The object of course was to find somewhere that was the perfect hiding place where nobody could find us. Our newest neighbor had just moved in and had purchased two shiny new garbage cans with lids next to a telephone pole. I opened up one of the lids and saw that it was just the right size for me to get into. I climbed in and pulled the lid on top. ...

Chapter 5 – A Bondage Orgy Preparation Now that I was largely caught up on the events in the cellar by watching the camera feeds, I closed the tablet and went to find Paula. I found her in the kitchen chopping ingredients to go make a salad to go with the steaks. “Ever played with hoods?” I asked, unpacking the stuff I bought at the bondage store. “Yeah,” she answered, “but my local dungeon in London didn’t have one that nice. That looks custom made.” ...

Part 2 - Severance Package Soaring through the air, I joyously fluttered about the jungle foliage, my glistening feathers reflecting the sun’s rays like tiny prisms of light. I let vibrant melodies fill my heart with joy, and my songs spread throughout the canopy. In that moment, I felt a deep sense of awe that such beauty could exist in this wild place, and I marveled at the lush vibrant green of my surroundings. ...

Part 3 Slowly and carefully Brianna Wilde opened her eyes, the gentle light flooding her vision forcing her to squint as the expanse of an unfamiliar ceiling came into focus. Blinking a few times to let herself adjust and clear away the last traces of sleep, the blue-haired girl fought down the urge to yawn as she instinctively stretched, arching her back and rolling her neck, wincing ever so slightly at the jolt of pain that shot through her stiff shoulders. It was only then, as she allowed her body to collapse back into a boneless heap on the sinfully soft bed she found herself laying on, a wonderfully overstuffed pillow as soft as a cloud propping up her head, that she realized she had been unbound. The monoglove that had pinned her arms so tightly behind her back all day was gone, as was her gag. Moreover, someone had gone to the trouble of fixing her clothing, wrapping the skirt back around her waist and adjusting her bra though, to her slight disappointment, she could also feel that her chastity belt had been locked back on. ...

Former supervillain Shego was lying in her bathtub, relaxing in the hot water after another day at work. After leaving the path of evil behind her, she went back to Middleton High School to teach the students there. A job that sometimes pushed Shego to her limits and made her wish she could teach the little shits some manners. Today had been one such day and she’d almost pulverized her teacher’s desk with her powers, but had managed to hold back at the last moment. Instead, all that had happened was a dent in the wooden desk. Her class had also become very quiet afterwards. Shego let herself sink deeper into the water and tried not to think about school anymore; after all, she finally had a weekend off. At that moment, her cell phone rang and Shego groaned in annoyance. She lifted a slice of cucumber from her right eyelid and squinted at her cell phone to see who was interrupting. It was her favorite redhead. ...

I don’t know what caused it, or why it happened to me, hell not even if I’m the only person with this ability, this blessing, or curse, not sure what to call it. I just know it started one day, and my life has not been the same – nor will it ever be. Now, when I tell you the story, you will most likely say: Why are you complaining, it’s a dream come true – well, for some time that’s what I thought, too … ...

Her First Boyfriend Intro Ariana Inoue is an 18 year old Japanese woman. She has short black hair. She rarely puts on makeup but recently learned to use eye liner and finds drawing cat eyes intriguing. Her Cute facial features and petite body are the envy of many classmates. She has a small B-cup and stands about 140cm tall. Ariana lives in the college dorm sharing a room with another girl. She’s been in a somewhat serious relationship with her boyfriend for the past few months. ...

SEARCHING FOR THE PART Jack was always attracted to power. And even though he was just 28 years old, he had already gained a good amount of it. The kind of power that had made him rich enough to own a very comfortable condo downtown. From the 12th floor he could look down at all the poor, weak souls that could never reach him and his status. He always felt like a king whenever he looked down that balcony. ...

Part 16. Something About Mary Emma found herself in the shower but not alone. The petite, adolescent-looking Kit was suspended by the manacles in the shower. Her legs draped over Emma’s shoulder with Emma’s face buried in her kitten’s kitty. Emma was sure Kit was truly mewling over the pleasure she was receiving. Emma wasn’t the only one pleasuring Kit in the shower. Janice had been waiting for them along with Ophelia when they returned to the suite. Though Ophelia hadn’t joined them, Janice’s face was buried in Kit’s backside, her tongue buried inside the tight ring of her outer sphincter. Lady Chastity was still taking control of her damsel. ...

Chapter 46: Puppy Maggie Clair and Fred rarely disagreed and almost never argued. In fact, Clair couldn’t remember a time when she or Fred had raised their voices to each other. But they did have a respectful disagreement about pets. Clair wanted a dog; Fred would compromise on a goldfish. “We can’t keep up with a pet while we’re in college. Besides, The Married Dorm is no place for a pet,” He would argue. ...

Chapter 45: Crucifixion Picnic, Crux The winch on the Jeep had pulled Peggy’s near naked body so that she was in a perfect position; perfect to be crucified at least. Her arms were pulled almost to the eye-bolts through which the cables ran and that put her arms at about a V with a 45% angle. Peggy was immediately surprised at how much strain this put on her shoulders. She should have grabbed the wood dowels built into the suspension wrists cuffs before they started to lift her, but she was too surprised. Her ankles were bound together with a leather strip, so she bent her knees and felt for the small, sloped platform with her feet. She found it, but when she tried to stand up, her feet slipped off. The platform sloped down at about 45% and her feet were sweating and dirty. Trying again, she got her heels dug into the very narrow ledge at the back of the platform and she was able to push up with her legs enough to reach the dowels in the cuffs for a little relief. ...

My husband and I were not exactly regulars in the local BDSM environment, but several of my friends were, so we kept in touch. For us the play happened in the bedroom. Adrian, my husband, often came up with new things to try, but he quickly lost interest and moved on to other activities. That meant we have tried a lot. But we absolutely enjoyed the BDSM activities. It was always me being the dominant. That was natural because I don’t have a shred of submissiveness in me. The furthest we went with him dominating me was a pair of handcuffs and an afternoon of play. Neither of us enjoyed that, so we left it at that. ...

The Problem “So here’s the problem we face,” the Director began his explanation for calling in Robert and Big Mike. “A serious situation is developing that threatens to expose the Center, one that forces us to act immediately. There’s an investigative reporter who uncovered some potentially damaging information. Fortunately we have someone on site who is working to deflect the reporter’s attention, but that’s not going to buy us much time. We do have a long term solution, but to implement it we need your help.” ...

The town of Mystery sits in the middle of a valley of extremely good farmland. Nowhere else in the area has such bountiful crops. And no other town in the area has such a large park located right in the middle of town. It is almost as if the town of Mystery grew up around the park. The lush grasses and wildflowers of Mystery Park make it a great place for picnics and impromptu sports. Sometimes lovers come into the park after dark to take advantage of the soft, thick fields of grass and the ability to hide, if necessary, behind the many trees which form a grove in the very center of the park. Almost every day amateur photographers come to the park to take pictures of the wildflowers, the occasional animals who wander by and, of course, “The Screaming Tree.” ...

Box of Trouble Intro Ariana Inoue is a cute 24 years old Japanese woman. She has shoulder length black hair. Currently her favorite hair styles are either having it loose, or one or two short ponytails. Usually she has her hair done up for work in a ponytail. She rarely puts on makeup, but really likes the look of cat-eyes with dark eye liner. Her face is made up of soft lines with dark eyes which along with her effortlessly slender body are the envy of men and women alike. A small B-cup adorns her chest and she stands about 140cm tall with a cute butt. ...

Part Three The playtimes continued, either by my own hand or by my husband’s. I again often found myself naked, bound and stored away downstairs with the other meatgirls, I was now just another product waiting for the next customer. Or I was kept bound to either of the beds in our apartment above the shop, waiting for my ‘Master’ to come and take his ‘slave-girl’ for his pleasure, some of the times leaving me tied to the bed the entire night or placed away in our very own storage area, the cupboard in the spare room, usually that was used when we played my objectification fetish during the week and one of the other workers would be down in the shop the next day. ...

Part One My first weekend of becoming a meatgirl was very nearly my last, I had finally managed to persuade my husband Ollie to keep me naked, bound and gagged while being stored away with the other meatgirls, something that I had wanted to try for a very long time. Things were going as planned but then the trouble started… I think my fascination with meatgirls first started in my childhood, I used to look at them while they were displayed in the store windows and I was in awe at their beauty and physique, the way that their bodies were presented while they advertised what was available inside the store, to me they looked very powerful and proud of what they were, well as a small girl that’s was the impression that I got from seeing them. ...

Chapter 8 – Paul’s First Tea Dee knew It was time to talk to Paul about attending The Ladies Tea Society meeting next Sunday. She didn’t know why she was putting it off, perhaps it was because she was afraid Paul would refuse. She was the dominant and they were developing into a very solid Female Led Relationship. But it was, as it must me, a consensual relationship. And this was a BIG step. ...

The Foundation Khail embarked on their journey as a friend, taking the time to truly understand Sameera’s world—her likes, dislikes, and boundaries. With every interaction, their comprehension of each other grew, like pieces of a puzzle coming together. As time passed, Khail built a strong emotional connection between them, step by step. They were consistently there for Sameera, creating an environment where she felt safe and supported. Trust and comfort were their priorities, and they ensured Sameera always felt those things. ...

Part 1 There was something oddly satisfying about physical exercise, a sentiment that Brianna Wilde would have found very strange once upon a time. The truth was that she had never been a particularly physical person when she was younger. Oh, to be sure she’d run and played like any other child and had ridden her bike just about everywhere before she’d gotten old enough to drive, though she’d never actually had a car of her own. In fact, the little motorcycle she kept tucked away in her mistresses’ garden shed was the first vehicle she had ever actually owned. However, beyond those youthful adventures and the occasional camping trip, as well as physical education in school, Brianna would certainly not have considered herself particularly athletic in any real sense of the word. She’d been painfully average at best and had been inching ever so slightly toward out of shape as high school came to an end. Once again the blue-haired girl could not help but marvel at how much could change in as little as a year. It was hard to say if it had been anything more than curiosity, and a certain ingrained obedience, when she’d accepted Sofia’s offer to join the blonde’s morning jogs. A combination of both probably, as well as a certain unspoken promise of… other things to spice up the experience. An unspoken promise that had been kept in spades. And yet, as difficult and exhausting as those first few days were, Brianna was still a little shocked at how much she had come to enjoy the experience and how much she had begun to look forward to those morning runs. It was more than just the aroused thrill of exercising in bondage, or the sense of accomplishment as she reached new milestones. No, it was something both more and less tangible than that. She would probably never have Sofia’s sheer enthusiasm, much less Claudia’s abs, but at the same time the blue-haired girl could not help but marvel at the changes wrought in her body since she had started accompanying her mistress on her runs. The physical changes alone were interesting enough, especially the steadily increasing tone of her leg muscles, her thighs in particular, as well as the slight narrowing and firming of her waist, though her growing exploration of corsetry probably also played a role in that as well. ...

Part 3 Chapter 16 Natalie The next day brought new challenges. When she saw the breakfast set up in front of them, she couldn’t help but be amazed. Trixie made an effort to try everything at least once. The sausages and stewed tomatoes tasted very good to her, but when she was offered tippers, she went on strike. “Today I have to spend most of my time talking to my asset managers about some things,” Antje explained. “I’ve asked Frank to drive you around London a bit and show you the main sights. I can’t say exactly how long that will take me, but when I’m done, I’ll call Frank and you can pick me up.” ...

Part 1 Chapter 1: Getting to know each other A week after her birthday, Trixie would finally put this nightmare behind her. A few years ago, she had fallen in love with Miroslav, a Serbian. He was constantly in need of money, and Trixie had manipulated invoices at her company, where she was responsible for data processing, and thus embezzled a lot of money. When the whole thing was discovered, Miroslav disappeared to Serbia and was never heard from again. Trixie was left to pick up the pieces. The receipt was three years in prison. She would be released next Monday, and she had no greater desire than to leave her past, and especially prison, far behind. ...

Chapter 3 – First Time Sunday, at exactly 2:00 pm, an extremely nervous and excited Dee pulled up to the gate and entered the code Julie had given her into the keypad. She noticed that a van had gone in right before her, and another car followed her in. As she got out of her car, a woman she thought she recognized from somewhere opened the back of a van. ...

Ding-a-ling! With a jingle and a slam, another gaggle of children entered Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes and proceeded to set about the place. Hermione was beginning to regret accepting George Weasley’s offer of a temporary position running the shop. She was filling in for him while he traveled to Northern Africa in search of ancient practical joke spells and talismans. But, she needed the work and it coincided with the spring break of Magoolick’s Graduate School of Magical Studies where she was working on her Master’s Degree in Witchcraft. ...

Chapter 2 – Dee’s Invite It had taken several years after their marriage for Paul to convince Dee to play chastity games with him. He had stumbled across some femdom porn back in college and ever since he had been fascinated with both femdom and chastity. But being the shy and submissive type, he never got up the courage to tell Dee. At one point he bought a cheap, black plastic cage that he hid from Dee. It wasn’t very comfortable or secure but wearing it excited him in ways he couldn’t completely explain. When Paul finally got the courage to show the cage to Dee, she didn’t react much at all. It wasn’t that Dee thought there was anything wrong with the cage, she just couldn’t understand why Paul wouldn’t want to have sex with her. Dee didn’t lack self-confidence, she knew she was hot, so why on earth would Paul not want to fuck her! ...

Episode 5 “She is my critter doll!” “I don’t care! Let her out!” “No! She loves it.” “That’s what concerns me the most.” “Tomorrow.” “No, now!” “Tomorrow!” “Now!” “Nyaaaa! Stop it, you two. Jaina, X is Silver’s girlfriend. Let her do whatever she wants for once.” Critter doll? Was that what I had become? As Nekko inserted her small body between the much stronger Silver and angry Jaina to separate them, I rolled back the tape inside my head and tried again to understand what had happened to me. ...

Part 2 …The bike ride home was uneventful, except that I could feel the tension building within me every mile closer we got towards the town we all grew up in. My happy place was almost certainly someplace else one day, but where? I wanted a life with my boyfriend turned one day into my husband, but this happy go lucky riding on the back of Ken’s Milwaukee vibrator-life was fun too. Away from home, away from that environment, no real responsibilities; did I really have to go back? ...

Part Thirteen 7 Day 51 After the long, lonely night in the holding pen, Emma found herself being carried back to Steve’s office, she didn’t want to go and tried to protest when Andy picked her up, she wanted to remain with the other meatgirls, and maybe finally end her days. But she found herself again placed in a chair, with Steve, Susan and Andy looking at her, she feeling slightly more submissive and accepting now in Steve’s presence. ...

I was already lying across the spanking / fucking bench when the first partygoers arrived. Julie Ann, called J by everyone… and Mistress J by those in the inner circle… was there to meet them. She quickly explained, “Mistress Regina was called away on urgent business, but she didn’t want to cancel the party, so she asked me to act as hostess.” She pointed to me and said, “Besides, we have already arranged for slut zara to be here tonight. I’m sure everyone will enjoy themselves.” ...

Part 7 I whistled to myself as I stood in the queue. Despite being back here for a while, I had never gone out into the town, I was either at Chloe’s apartment or at Harriet’s Stables. This morning, I woke up before my friend and decided to go to the local coffee shop to grab some food and a drink for breakfast. The events of yesterday landed me in good spirits, I felt like I accomplished something with Jade and started to strive into a new direction. Despite the small amount of time we spent doing it, I really enjoyed the idea of being a dressage pony. ...

Part Thirteen 6 Day 46 Finally, the journey was over, the rear doors opened and she was carried out, she then realised that she had made it to the store that Andy ran, she saw him as she was unloaded from the truck by the driver, and Emma happily watched as he scanned her into the stores inventory with a smile. She was then placed inside the storeroom where she spent another blissful night sharing the space with the other meatgirls. It had been great to see a friendly face again, even though briefly and she wondered what Andy would be doing with her while she was here. Emma managed to sleep well that night, her dreams were much easier than previously, though she still ended up being cooked and served, this time it was to Andy and Susan, who delighted in tasting Emma’s flesh. ...

Part 10 If there had been a palatable air of excitement in the car before, it was nothing compared to the sheer swell of emotions that Brianna Wilde felt well up inside of her now. As if she might burst at any moment from sheer anticipation. What was worse, no matter how much she had asked and pleaded and very nearly begged as they made their way back to the car at what felt like a painfully slow pace, neither Roxanna and Sofia had deigned to explain themselves beyond the playful promise made back in the shop. That they were going someplace quiet to play with their toys. Indeed, they’d gone so far as to threaten to gag her if she kept it up and, as playfully as they may have said it, Brianna was still fairy certain that they weren’t joking and had dutifully closed her mouth. Still, the questions roiling within her mind simply would not let her be and as she sat quietly in the back seat of the car, watching the world go by while also having no idea where in the world they were going, her imagination took flight. Of course, the blue-haired girl was fairly confident that she and Claudia were the ‘toys’ being referred to and that their recent purchases would certainly play a role in whatever games were planned but it hardly took a leap of logic to realize that. No, what she was left wondering was just how much of all this was planned in advance and how much was spontaneous? After all, it had been less than a day since she’d idly suggested they go out for the evening, how much preparation could really have been done in that time? Then again, they’d certainly surprised her before. Were the odds and ends they’d picked up central to some larger scheme, or were they just wild impulses? It was impossible to say and, again and again, it led her back to the same thought. That she had no idea what either of the achingly beautiful and deviously clever women she’d given herself to were about to do to her and while that was not an unpleasant thought in and of itself, it was somehow very frustrating at the same time. For all she knew there could be an entire trunk full of devious devices ready and waiting. ...

Jake, Dave and John had been close friends since high school. Actually they were friends long before high school. Jake and Dave had known each other since forever and John became their friend when his parents moved into the neighborhood just before he started school. The three boys were originally part of a much larger circle of friends, but in high school things slowly began to change. The change occurred when their friends began to gradually merge into the dating and party scene until it was just them… and Doreen. Then at the end of their Junior year Doreen left. She stopped by Jake’s house to say goodbye. As usual, Dave and John were also there. ...

The last time I saw Priscilla was an afternoon to remember. We originally met at work where she was a supervisor in a department at one of my customers. We hit it off sexually right away. She was a big girl, about 240 pounds, but it was all where it should be and she had a wildly erotic imagination. Her figure was more voluptuous than simply fat, and she was really in very good physical shape. ...

Once upon a time there was a slave named Brianna. She scrubbed at a particularly encrusted piece of rice in the bottom of a metal cooking pot, her long black hair getting a bit soaked at the tips by the water flowing from the nearby sink’s faucet. The chicken dinner she had prepared had been a success, and now she was barely listening as her Mistress and their newfound male friend chatted on his couch about life, the universe and everything. ...

Part Thirteen 5 Day 9 Emma was woken up by the feeding system, relieved to find that she was still safely stored away, with the lovely feeling of the other meatgirls gently rubbing up against her. She was happy that It was just another dream, though Emma wondered if they were a foreshadowing of things to come for her. Her contemplations were suddenly interrupted by the workers entering and grabbing the next meatgirl for their display, it signified that this was the start of another day. The storeroom again went dark when they left, leaving the remaining meatgirls to continue enjoying their final moments. ...

I heard a knock at my house’s front door. I wasn’t expecting anyone this evening, definitely not so soon after getting home from work. I opened the door to see my fiancée, Heather. She could dress to the nines and give a dead man a woody. Heather at the moment was dressed to the twelves. “Promise me tonight you’ll do anything I ask. Stephen. Anything.” she demanded. I normally was inclined to give her the world, looking like this even more so. ...

A good marriage always involves compromise. Couples who don’t understand this are usually headed for divorce or at least a lot of arguments. Compromise is the reason I’m standing in my garage, in the dark, naked, sporting a huge erection, with my hands cuffed behind my back with thick leather cuffs, and chained to the bumper of my Jeep. Get your attention? Then sit back and let me tell you my story. ...

Part Thirteen 4 Day 4 – The first storeroom* The next morning Emma awoke from her nightmare with the familiar feeding cycle, the other meatgirls waking and starting to move their bodies against each other, the gentle moans of each meatgirl as she sought closeness, pleasure and comfort from the ones standing next to them. This is what she remembered, her many days spent hanging in the storerooms, getting and giving what pleasure that she could to the others strung up there with her. Eventually their pleasure was interrupted when one of the store workers entered the storeroom, she seemed to recall their names as Bill and Todd, but she couldn’t be quite sure. ...

Part 9. An Unworthy Development Emma woke up in a panic. She tried to move but she was face down with her breasts smashed underneath her making it harder to breathe. Her neck seemed immobile with her face in a cushioned ring that opened up and let her see the ground below. Her arms were strapped straight out from the sides of her body. Her legs had a little play as her ankles were strapped down about a foot apart. Her knees and hips were not and she had some wiggle room to move. ...

Chapter 41: The Weekend, Varieties of Impact Play After a morning of rope bondage in the basement of Clair’s parents’ home, Regina, Clair and Fred made their way back upstairs for lunch. The women were both nude and wearing very tight crotch ropes. Regina was still feeling the gentile and somewhat annoying buzzing of a remote-control vibrating egg in her vagina. As they reached the top of the steps, Fred picked up the end of what he thought of as ‘the first-floor chain’ and attached it to Regina’s ankle. Regina understood that dragging this chain, the other end of which was firmly attached inside a hall closet, was Fred’s way of making her feel controlled. It was working. Although the chain was long enough to reach almost anywhere on the first floor, it was a physical reminder that Fred was in charge. ...

Part Thirteen 3 Day 2 – Moved from the auctions. The next morning Emma woke up, the dream that she had been having was not real, thankfully she was still here in the holding pen in the auction yard. She then felt the movement from the others around her in the pen, the cool liquid that was now feeding them waking them all up from their slumber. Emma realised that she had managed to fall asleep, she thought it was mainly due to her extended periods of being kept like this, her prior experiences giving her an advantage she guessed, while the others seemed to have a restless night. Though the fact that the other meatgirls seemed to gather closer together and rub each other’s bodies against the others, either for warmth or comfort, she thought may have contributed to the lack of sleep on their part. ...

Part Thirteen 2 When Steve eventually returned after taking his time, there before him stood the vision of loveliness that a now very naked Emma’s body presented to him. She had removed her dress, shoes and wig, placing them on the desk and sat there with her hands in her lap, with her eyes cast down, looking every part the submissive slave girl that Steve knew that she loved to be, waiting for him to return. He had seen this docile side of Emma before, so he now knew for sure that she had given in to her own compliant thoughts and desires, the inner meatgirl in her winning out and coming to the fore. ...

Part 1: The End “…more damn docs?” He checked the clock and sighed to himself, “Well, no rest for the wicked.” Seated behind his desk, the Major glanced through the blinds into the grassy field beyond. A steely eyed highly trained product of the Cold War, he was now a relic pushed into a corner office and forgotten by the very military he was once so devoted to. He manned a civilian/government contracting office which maintained obsolete radar systems. His body remained toned, but he was developing a paunch as he didn’t get to gym as often as he should, and the temples of his fine brown hair were starting to gray. His time was coming to an end, and he knew it. At least this last station was near the rocky wilds of the mountains where he could escape. He was on twenty-two years of service having been enlisted up to Sergeant, then commissioned officer in a college program. Major Justin was a consummate tactician and missed being amongst his fellow warfighters, almost all of them now faded away into civilian life, others buried under flags and white marble. ...

I was asked to tell this story from my perspective some time ago, and seeing how I am presently suffering from a minor bout of writer’s block on and off, I thought it might make a good detour from the other purely fictional projects I have going on. I will tell this story as I remember it, and there is some fiction here too, but such is necessary to keep the real-world players from realizing it’s about them, as there were a few others involved in this particular one. I’ve played with the locations to keep consistency too, but this is more about actions, our actions, rather than the actual locations. ...

Mortification Lay aside your passing pleasures, Look beyond what cannot last Luxuries are mere distractions, Mundane comforts soon are past. See in Bliss a grand horizon, And a life more rich and vast They came for her in the night, long after the faintly glowing lamps in the corridors outside her small chamber had been extinguished. Elise had just completed her evening rituals; clad in the heavy, transparent rubber of her nightgown, rising from the foot of her bed where she had been meditating. She had been contemplating the Bliss now almost constantly thrumming through her body along with the events of the last week and all that had happened since she had completed her Baptism. All of those thoughts were interrupted, though, as a knock came pounding at her door. ...

The room was so silent that I could hear my heart beating in my ears. I sat defeated at the table, with my feet on the chair, I had wrapped my arms around my ankles and rested my head against my legs. I had lost. Just less than an hour ago I was sitting in the courtroom with a strict judge peering down at me behind her golden spectacles, causing her wide white eyes to contrast against her ebony skin. It had felt like we were sitting in that courtroom for ages, however, the judge had quickly come to a conclusion. ...

Chapter 38: The Weekend Begins Regina had no idea what to expect when she met Clair’s parents for dinner on Friday night. Clair had explained that her parents would leave after dinner on Friday and be gone for the weekend so they would have some privacy for the weekend. Regina was looking forward to Clair and her husband Fred dominating and grateful that they could use Clair’s childhood home for their adventures since their dorms at the university weren’t exactly private. But she wasn’t prepared for the strange mixture of an American suburban home and family that also just happened to embrace a full-time dominance dynamic. It was just hard to wrap her mind around how normal it all seemed. Yet here was Clair’s mom Jill, her hands cuffed together, her ankle chained to something? (All Regina could see was the chain seemed to run into a hall closet). ...

Part Twelve: Pre-packed meat for sale After spending the entire day looking after her baby, now growing more each day, Emma finally had the chance to relax and spend some time with her husband Nick, she had looked forward to some alone time with him, and with the baby now settled it was the perfect time to indulge in some adult things. Even just talking about how his day had been seemed to be much more exciting than her day, filled with baby talk and other things, so when the baby finally drifted off to sleep, she told Nick that she was heading off to the shower, and teasing him that maybe she could have a little surprise waiting for him in the bedroom. But when she left the bathroom, she saw waiting for her were some ropes on the bed, and Nick standing there waiting for her, it seemed that he had his own plans for the evening, maybe something that she would enjoy. ...

Part Eleven After the birth of her new baby girl, Emma spent all her waking hours devoted to taking care of the new arrival; her thoughts of her time as just another meatgirl now put well back in her mind, and when not taking care of the baby she spent time working on getting her body back into shape. There were the rare and wonderful times that, while the baby was asleep, content after feeding from her, that she and Nick got to spend some alone time either playing with each other in bed or with her tightly bound to the bed and available to him to use her. She liked those times and recalled the many hours and days that she had spent bound up previously, bringing back some very happy memories as well as the long-forgotten bad ones, but she didn’t focus on those; that was a whole world away now. She was quite content to stay home and take care of Nick and the baby that had come into their lives. ...

Part One I sat on the pavement trying to get comfortable. My owner had left me here some time ago before she had gone into the shopping mall. She had left me tethered to one of the thousands of posts installed and maintained by the City, for owners who wished to leave their slaves outside while they shopped and dined. My owner had been kind to me this morning. Each post is about two meters tall and has a slightly longer length of chain welded at one end to the top. Each length of chain has a combination lock attached at the other end. The lock has the combination engraved on it so owners simply undo it using the combination and refasten it to a slave’s collar. All slaves must, by law, be fitted with a steel collar that meets certain standards. They must also be fitted with a suitable standard chastity device. I wore both items and nothing else. ...

Chapter 37: Sr. Year, Regina’s Turn “Regina, Fred and I have been talking and we really appreciate all the research, medical expertise, and equipment you brought to my Mummification scene, but we have a lot more experience in BDSM that you do and we honestly think a mummification scene would be way too intense for your first experience as a sub.” Clair said. Fred, Clair, and Regina had just finished off a couple of large pizzas and a bottle of wine in Regina’s dorm room. It was a little cramped for three people but since the last two times they had a ‘dinner party’ had been at Fred and Regina’s she thought it only fair. ...

Part 1 I want to begin this account of my experience in the Panzher Station CIGI (we pronounce it “siggy”) by saying for the record that I’m not like most of the other girls who get sent there. I didn’t drift around from failed training program to failed apprenticeship through my late teens and early twenties, whether from a lack of direction, emotional instability, criminal behavior, or any of the other qualities that saw my classmates at the CIGI fail to hack it. I’m not a dropout or a basket case. As far as I know, anyway, which in fact isn’t saying much. ...

6: Phoebe’s First Case Phoebe grinned from ear to ear as she climbed the creaking stairs and a door blocked her path. She read her name. “Phoebe M. Wynters Private Investigator” was written in gold letters on the small glass panel of the door. She pulled out the key her landlord had given her and put it in the lock. Phoebe pushed open the door and entered for the first time her small three-room apartment in what her landlord had assured her was the best neighborhood in all of Leon City, Falenplaza. ...

…With a foreboding feeling making me sick to my stomach, I realized that this man’s few words to me, combined with his further acts of restraint, not to mention silencing me as he had, led me to the conclusion that I wasn’t going anywhere in the short term. The cops WOULDN’T be called either, this man and his employers dealing with me directly, and likely far more viciously than the law could possibly allow. Just as a common burglar rightly fears an armed homeowner far more than the police, I would have been wise to fear this eventual outcome myself. The cops had rules to follow, where this man was setting me up to just up and disappear, the only apparent rule for him, and his employers, was to protect their collection at any price. ...

Chapter 1 Do you sometimes think there should be more to life? Do you sometimes think you’d like less routine and more excitement? I did, and got more than I bargained for. Here’s my story. I should introduce myself. My name is Emma, I’m 34, happily married with two lovely children. I trained as an accountant and now work from home part-time doing the books of a number of small businesses. This fits in nicely around my family commitments. Both children are now at school and my husband Peter is a high flying corporate tax specialist in a multinational company based in London and who frequently spends a day or two in various other European cities. He’s driven to become his company’s next Finance Director and works long hours. I love him and the children dearly, more than I can express in a few words, but his hard work and long hours have had consequences. And those consequences have most certainly affected me. ...

Karen, Deena and Sandy had been friends since college. All three had degrees in Home Economics and enjoyed cooking. They would host dinner parties at each other’s houses inviting other couples to join in. These adventurous women would occasionally take special food classes, sometimes for fun, sometimes to learn unique foods. “Well, good afternoon, ladies. The Exotic Meat Company welcomes you to our special personalized cooking class featuring unique meat products from around the world. Today we have a very special treat as we will feature meals that are prepared by the MegaBooba native tribe from the Snatchapora Island off of Africa.” ...

Part 7. Warden and Inmate Epsilon Emma was still basically naked except for her chastity belt and needle filled chastity bra. The four cuffs on her wrists and ankles as well as her collar were still shackled together by heavy chains. Her leash was pulled taut as she followed Miss Keys through the corridors of the ship barefoot. Emma at least got an amazing view of Miss Keys’ backside as she gracefully walked ahead of her. ...

Part Nine Emma knew that deep down that she would eventually end up like this, her weird fantasies bringing her to her own downfall. Here she was hanging upside down naked, her bound ankles had been attached by the men working here in the factory to the chain that would carry her to her last moments. She watched as she hung there as the line of meatgirls before her move towards some distant machine, the dark interior looked very menacing, the whole production line turned the meatgirls into processed meats. ...

Part Ten Today was a day for some good and some bad news for Emma, the bad news was that her many wonderful times spent as a meatgirl were going to come to an end, which was really disappointing to her, she loved spending time either on display or kept in the storeroom with the other meatgirls, her wrists bound and held above to one of the hooks in the ceiling. Spending some quality time rubbing her naked body against the other meatgirls, it was a blissful way to spend the day, her mind lost to her desires and fantasies, any other thoughts forgotten about until she was brought back to reality when Nick brought her back out from the storeroom to take home at the end of the trading day. ...

Part Eight It had been a few months since the day that Emma had been taken from the store by the gang of thieves, and then transported and on-sold to several locations, before eventually being rescued by the Livestock Squad. And since then, there have been a number of changes around her little world. Steve has taken on more business and has moved across into managing all of the stores, and also becoming a wholesaler with the purchase of the one that Emma had been taken to. The owners were now in jail for their part in the stolen meatgirl trade or sent off to become processed meats themselves. ...

Part Seven Emma woke up and felt that familiar itch that she gets from time to time, snuggling up next to her sleeping husband, Nick, she knew that she would soon be asking for him to bind her and place her inside the storeroom, it was going to be another one of those days with her as part of the inventory, her wrists bound to the ceiling hook and her naked body rubbing gently up against one or two of the other meatgirls inside the storeroom. ...

Part Six The last few months had been wonderful for both Emma and Nick, after their wedding they had grown much closer to each other and having moved all of her belongings into Nick’s tiny apartment above the store, it felt more like home to her now. And after finding out more about Emma’s time over at Steve’s store in his display, and the reasons why it happened, Nick had reluctantly allowed himself to relax more with Emma and her desires about being another meatgirl. ...

Part 2a – The Maidbot is my Mistress Hello there, you join me as I’m getting ready for my Mistress; I have to be in place before she walks into the playroom, naked, wearing only my collar, on my knees in a submissive posture. Legs spread, hands turned upwards and resting on my thighs, with my head down and eyes looking towards the floor. It’s nearly time for the changeover, where my maidbot turns from domestic servant to my dominant mistress, and where I have to follow her commands instead of me giving them. ...

Book 2 Chapter 01 A gibbous moon illuminates the mountains and valleys below. Its light only shines through the canopy of evergreen in brief patches. Somewhere, in the dark spaces between, chains are rattling. There is a rhythm to the sound. Soon the chains are accompanied by grunting, and another voice panting. Occasionally a muffled moan. There is a voice - soft, melodic - broken occasionally by pops and clicks. ...

After hearing from a friend of mine who had traveled off-world a year or so ago, as we spoke she told me that besides having fun, earning lots of credits, and learning new things, she had found the whole life-changing experience something that she thought that I needed. She told me that she had spoken with her manager and that they were willing to offer me a job in the same mine where my friend worked. ...

Chapter 11 “What the hell is that?” I asked, looking at the two small shipping crates that filled the backroom of the shop. Not a single day was the same whilst I worked at Tanya’s shop, it was nearing the end of a busy day when a delivery man knocked on the door, after a short conversation with him and watching him try not to glance at the sexual objects that littered the shop as he loaded the two large objects onto a pallet truck and took it to the warehouse, I had never seen a grown man blush so much as he passed dildos, latex clothing and a barrage of other sex toys. ...

Episode 4 BUUUUUZZZZ! “Come on, X. Get on the truck! There is a Critter outbreak. We need you to film it.” “No!” “Whyyy? Why are you grumpy again?” “I’m not going anywhere until you give me a pair of pants and a T-shirt.” “Oh, enough with that!” Silver grabbed me by my harness and pulled me inside the truck. Since the Critter Squad had turned me into Silver’s sex slave and forced me to wear this very BDSM-like outfit consisting of a leather harness, kinky boots and gloves, and a snug collar, that was all I have been wearing. And now, we had a job to do OUTSIDE the barrack, and they didn’t seem remotely interested in letting me wear anything else. ...

Part 3: Next Day Kelly woke as Beth released the rope that held in her a tight hogtie. Kelly groaned in relief as her stiff legs could finally straighten even if they were still tied together. Kelly was still exhausted and sore from yesterday but there was no rest for the weary as Beth pulled the vibrator whose batteries died hours ago from Kelly’s ass. Kelly grunted as it came out and felt a sense of emptiness even though her ass was quite sore. Beth did not disappoint Kelly too long as she grabbed the plug from last night. It was clean now and Beth mercilessly shoved it into Kelly’s ass. Kelly screamed out but Beth gave Kelly a solid slap on her ass that caused her bound body to buck. ...

Chapter 25: Farm, Morning Fred overslept. “OH SHIT!” He awakened with a start. Looking at the clock he realized it was 9:30am, not awful but he should have thought to set his phone alarm. He never intended to leave Clair for, what, eight hours. Two glasses of wine and all the excitement of last night and he slept like a baby, he realized with some guilt. “Well,” he thought, “I need to stop thinking like Clair’s boyfriend and start thinking like her Dom.” ...

Episode 3 “Is this really necessary?” “Yes!” “Yes!” “Yes!” “Yes!” Everybody was against me; Silver, Nekko, Jaina, and even Hacksaw. It was all Nekko’s fault. She came up with this strange scenario that would allow Silver to date me without destroying her online image. The Critter Squad was a precious brand that needed to be preserved, and since the whole internet community hated my guts following my disastrous first mission, it wouldn’t have been good for Silver to announce to her fans that she was dating their number-one public enemy. Instead, the plan was to make them believe I had become her sex slave as a punishment for my mistake, which had caused Silver to get encased in space critter skin and get humiliated on CritterTube. ...

Chapter 24: Farm, Clair’s Chain One afternoon, on one of Clair’s regular Facetime calls with Gran, Mr. Franklin answered the phone. Clair thought: “I’m really going to have to start calling him Leon, since he’s sleeping with my Gran.” “Oh, hello Clair, Lou can’t come to the phone right now, she’s uh, tied up.” Leon said. “You mean Chained up, don’t you?” Clair giggled. “Well, I might as well admit it, since she’s going to be there a while.” Leon replied, “Do you want me to take her the phone?” ...

2: In case of emergency, break glass “… One ring, that just means they’re leaving the market, we still have some time to get put back together here.” “Why not just call?” “I think Dana was being frugal, the phone company charges for actual completed calls by the minute, AFTER you pick up, so if we don’t answer she gets her dime back from the payphone. And this way as well, if we were ‘busy,’ one of us wouldn’t have to stop to answer.” ...

With the advances in technology, the ability to transform oneself into whatever they desire has become more commonplace. The transformation stores and the machines that they use seem to be everywhere these days, and it is becoming more acceptable to enjoy being whatever or whoever that you want to change yourself into, though there were limits applied to ensure that the person being transformed wasn’t being misused, abused or tricked into becoming something that they didn’t want to become. ...

It was an overcast but warm August weekday and I had the week off and my husband Steve was out of town, so I figured it would be a great opportunity to do some nude, outdoor bondage. I went to my bedroom after grabbing three zip bags from the kitchen and started assembling the accessories for this adventure: some locks, their keys, some chains, leather cuffs, spandex hood, ring gag, and two kitchen safes (time locking containers). ...

Part Five It had been a few days now since Emma had left his store; a weekend had passed by and he still hadn’t heard from either Nick or Emma. Steve’s part-time worker had just returned from leave on Tuesday, and this left him able to take some time away from serving and concentrate on other things, one of the most pressing was what was happening over at his other store that Nick ran. He thought that he would check out what had happened, and why he hadn’t heard from either one about his little trick. ...

Part Three And as Emma walked out of the store, she couldn’t help but feel the slight itch that she had for her old fantasy life; the sight of the meatgirls, bound and naked, as always, did stir some long-forgotten part deep inside her, and memories of happier times too. It didn’t take Emma long to realise the old familiar desires had returned. Now that she had met with Nick again and knew that he still had a store that sold meatgirls, the idea came back into her salacious mind that she needed to once again allow herself to be bound naked and put on display in the store. She had often dreamed of her days back on display in Nick’s old store and even had to admit to herself that she had enjoyed her time as nothing more than another meatgirl in the new store, used by Nicky and the other man as nothing more than a product to be displayed and sold. ...

Chapter 18: Cell, The Jill Keeper After Helen accepted the position of ‘Jill Keeper’, Bob asked, so when do you want to start? “Can I come around Sunday Afternoon and bring my stuff. Then I can spend Sunday night here and start Monday morning?” Helen asked. “Works for us!” Bob responded. “We probably have some more details to go over if you have time?” “Awww, let me show Helen her room first!” said Jill, still very excited. ...

Chapter 17: Cell, Helen’s Job Offer Jill had been thinking all day. She was excited that Bob had kept her locked in the cell since Friday night. She had blown him Friday night after he had abused her nipples with some nasty alligator clips he picked up at the hardware store. Bob found them in the electrical department and bought them when he couldn’t stand to clamp them on his little finger for more than a few seconds. ...

Chapter 15: Cell, Jill Cheats on Bob The projects with the Schwartz Iron works continue and Jill discovers she may be bisexual. Enjoy. After a few weeks, Bev called to tell Jill they had the decorative gate done and ask if Jill would like to drop by their workshop and see it. Jill was so excited she was over within an hour. Helen saw her coming and took her back to Bev’s corner of the shop. Jill was amazed at the work of art Bev had created but Helen was amused that Jill kept stealing glances towards the door to their living quarters. ...

Part 8: the Slave Girl Following on from our session with Valerie, with me dressed in a latex catsuit dominating and punishing her, my thoughts had drifted on to what either our next of a future scenario would be, with me as the submissive slave girl, my more natural place in the order of things and being dominated by my husband Jerry, using the new dungeon items that he had purchased. ...

Part 3. Jake was one of the party semi-regulars, he wasn’t part of the main party crowd, and he had PolySci, one of my morning classes, and Economics, one of my afternoon classes, with me. Coming out of PolySci the next day, he called me over. I was very cautious, what happened in the basement was supposed to stay in the basement, but it turns out I worried for nothing. He asked to walk with me wherever I was going (to my car), he had a question for me. ...

Part 4. The plane landed with a loud bump and a subdued squeal of tires underneath us, and we rolled out to a stop. New York City. Bucket list item – check. I had been looking at the Statue of Liberty as we flew around for the offshore approach, Antonio promised me I’d get a lot closer look tomorrow. OK, I mentally braced myself. Girlfriend. Look loving. Make it good. Starting now. ...

Part 2. Antonio Meraz was a quiet, standard intense Italian guy. Liz told me he played rugby like he did everything else, looked it over, planned his steps, then made things happen. He was scary good, she said, when he wanted to be. He had shown up at a few of the parties, kept an eye on me from a distance, but never did anything with me. Two or three of the players didn’t want anything to do with what was being done to me, and he was one of them. Happy to socialize, happy to drink the beer, wasn’t into abusing the furniture. He took crap from some of the guys for never doing anything with me, even when they taunted him to come up and kiss me or feel me up or have sex with me, but he pretty much just waved a beer bottle at them and laughed them off. They all did respect him, he was almost a 4.0 student, came from some manufacturing family in New York City, was a marketing and management double major, and everyone had penciled him in as one of these “take over Dad’s company when he gets old enough” stories. And by all the looks of things he could. And he could kick a rugby ball, Liz told me, half the field and quite often land it in a four-foot circle. ...

Storycodes: Part 1. I knew I hadn’t much time. None, in fact; it had run out. The team had won another away game and most of them would be here within fifteen minutes. Especially the ones that were here last week. Who saw me absolutely ruin my life. It’d been made quite perfectly clear to me. No more snotty bitch. No more arguing about the parties. As a matter of fact, I was now expected to have one keg set up and a second keg handy, snacks or something laid out on the table, and… ...

Running a large company takes a lot of time and effort, having to control the day to day running is very tiring, especially when you never get the chance to take a break and enjoy some more personal time. I was looking for a way to have some time away from controlling everything, when I spoke to a friend who is in the same boat as me; she told me about a discrete personal service provided by a company to help alleviate the stress build-up that she had used. She said that the outfit provides whatever service the client needs, in her case, to be taken away and kept as a bound captive. ...

Part 5. Fallout Miss Keys had Emma strip naked before cuffing her hands to a suspension bar over the bathtub she ended up standing in, within the middle of the room. Her chastity belt was removed before Emma was required to step each leg on either side of the tub, one at a time. A winch lowered her hands about a foot to allow her legs to be more than three feet apart from each as her knees bent in a slight squat where the upper part of her calves rested against the tub. Miss Keys put ankle cuffs on Emma and the locked chains from the ankle cuffs and the eye bolts just under the lip of the tub. Miss Keys used the winch again to raise Emma’s hands forcing Emma’s legs and feet to readjust until she was standing on her toes with little movement allowed and her legs barely touching the sides of the tub. This position left her in a small squat that was straining her arms, legs and toes. ...

Courtney Latham, 27, admired herself in the bedroom mirror. She possessed black hair and matching eyes, weighed 120 lbs, and stood five feet four inches tall barefoot. Her breasts were a B cup that perfectly matched her figure, a narrow waist, flat stomach, attractive pussy and legs. “Pain before pleasure,” she said to herself in the mirror. She had just finished with a scorching shower that left her perspiring and her skin tingling, and now she briskly toweled herself off. Next she dried her hair, and tied her tresses behind her hair with a crunchy. This way her hair wouldn’t get in the way, when she placed a ball-gag in her mouth after she had placed herself in bondage. ...

Part One Sitting at home feeling bored and lonely, Emma was currently in the last semester of her time at university; her work had been completed and assignments submitted, so she had nothing to do and no one to do things with. Living away from home, while she enjoyed the freedom it gave her, she missed having family around her, especially at times like these when her friends were all away. Her apartment felt empty. ...

Lorraine Baker turned her head sideways and looked at herself in the playroom mirror. She was restrained lengthwise on the padded horse, with her wrists and ankles locked to the four legs of the wooden device. Resting on her chest was far better than sitting upright on the horse, even with the padding. When seated on the horse with her entire weight bearing down on her sex it seemed like she was being cut in half. ...

Chapter 13: Cell, Schwartz Iron Works Life was good for Jill and Bob since Clair had gone off to college. Jill’s weight was under control thanks to regular walks and rejoining her tennis team. Bob was also building a reputation at work as an outstanding salesperson, and one who went out of his way to help others. Bob never hesitated to coach or help younger or less experienced salespersons. It was obvious to both management and his coworkers that Bob was more concerned with the company’s success than his own. ...

Part 2 The journey to my new owner took just over two days; my box was delivered to a very surprised couple, as they found out when they opened the outer box to find my dolly form tucked away inside the sex doll box, along with the note from my sister explaining about the spell, and also my note to ‘DollyMaster’ that I hoped that he would keep me as just another dolly in his collection. They had expected to see me, but not like this. ...

“And this way we have our wall of debt” I looked at the owner of the fetish club with a blank look on my face. I was writing this piece for my magazine about the fetish nightclub scene and had secured myself an invitation and tour to the town’s best known venue. Well, I say best known. In fairness it was best known to those who enjoyed its very specific services and tastes. I did not know such places actually existed outside of fiction, but here I was getting the tour. And what an eye-opener it was. ...

Chapter 12: Backpacking, Spread Fred admired the image Clair made drying in the sun with the light glinted off her wet skin. She saw him looking, smiled and struck a pose and shook her tits at him, to the extent she could with her hands tied over her head. Going to the tent, he pulled four of the eight stakes out of the ground and went to an open area of the forest floor. He estimated distances and drove the four stakes into the ground. Clair watched him with interest, and she didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know what Fred had planned next. ...

…My body shook and vibrated, and it certainly hurt to be sure, although this too was doable. I was right on the edge of something, although what exactly was not entirely clear to me. I could hardly catch my breath, wailing out lungs-full of precious air with every stroke, certainly something like this couldn’t possibly be doing THAT to me. It was like I was both here, and someplace else, all at the same time. ...

“I’m tired of watching other women paw all over you,” Tabitha complained. “No one is pawing me,” her boyfriend replied. “Karl, I watch the tapes.” Having a girlfriend in security can be a little complicated sometimes. “Those are just lonely older ladies looking for a safe flirt. Nothing more.” “You don’t have to flirt back all the time.” “I do if I want tips.” Tabitha just did not understand. This was what you had to do if you wanted to make it as a towel boy. Greentree Spa did not pay enough to live off in my current position. So, what if I flirted? It was not hurting anything. ...

Roger Winslow stopped his car at the massive iron gates and stood fumbling with a ring of keys, searching for the one that would give them entrance. His secretary, Marcie, sat waiting patiently in the car. Beyond the gates, the Wentworth mansion looked exactly like you would expect a mad scientist’s lair to look in a grainy 1950’s horror movie. Maybe that was because it had been built near the end of the nineteenth century when Neo-gothic was the IN* style for the nouveau-riche. Or maybe it was because no one had lived there since Hector Wentworth had passed away and the lower two floors were securely boarded up. Or maybe it was just because tonight was Halloween and everything looked decrepit and spooky in the light of a full Halloween moon shining through a slightly cloudy sky. ...

What the fuck am I doing? Trick-or-Treating? I’m eighteen for fuck’s sake. A sexy college girl on her way to some party in a slutty little Tinkerbell costume passes me on the street. Oh yeah, that’s why. Smiling dumbly, I knock on the next door. Not closed all the way it swings open. My pillowcase hits the floor. My jaw nearly follows. Two of the sexiest women I’ve ever seen are framed perfectly in the doorway. A busty blond in only white lacy lingerie is kneeling on the couch, praying, I think. On her back are fluffy angel wings. Kneeling on the floor before her is the sexiest Latina I have ever seen. Her ass is massive and barely covered by the red thong she’s wearing. The attached demon tail does little to cover her. She’s clutching a toy pitchfork in one hand and has a little devil horns headband on. She must feel the breeze, ‘cause she turns and looks at me. ...

It happened on Dark Night, as all such extremely magical things must. It was a long time ago… long before the invaders came from England… long before the invaders came from the north… even before the invaders with their iron weapons and shields that locked together to form the shell of a turtle came from the south and conquered Britain before invading the green isle. It was the invaders with their turtle shells who took the practices of Dark Night back to their homeland. But the calendars of Rome and the calendars of the green isle were not the same. And the Romans didn’t recognize the purpose or power of Dark Night. So they lit their fires and celebrated with dance and revelry on the last day of their harvest month. But those who remember still light their fires on the first dark of the moon following the day when the sun stops its march across the heavens and begins to return to shine with warmth upon the green isle. ...

“This place is creepy, Mike.” Melissa said to her boyfriend Mike as they snuck through the fence of an abandoned amusement park. Pickle Park was a popular amusement park until two young couples died when a roller coaster car sped off the tracks killing all four. The four people killed 17 years ago had also attended the community college that the couples sneaking into the abandoned park were attending. Yeah, guys, this is a really spooky place” Deb said to her boyfriend Sean. ...

“Evocative, isn’t it? Unfortunately, I only have the first few lines.” Kristen Simms nodded. She was a grad student specializing in Arachnology, the study of spiders, and aside from the occasional digression into the study of insects, her interests didn’t extend beyond her own field. But she had a very specific reason for investigating the colonial folklore that Professor Bothal specialized in. A reason that she would rather the professor not know. ...

Darin groggily lifted his head and looked around him. “Whoa!” he said loudly. “I must have really gotten wasted at that Halloween party.” He quickly checked to make sure that his costume, a large cloth leaf, was still in place. He then lifted his head and looked at the black and orange crepe paper hanging in big loops from the ceiling of the dimly-lit bus and at all of the other costumed riders. He didn’t remember getting on this bus. The last thing that he remembered was sneaking out onto the balcony at Astra’s party with Karina for a little moonlight sex. ...

Doria looked down at the text on her phone and started to cry. “He doesn’t understand,” she softly sobbed. Nobody understood. The few people she had told about her condition didn’t believe her. How could she possibly convince Mark that there was a real reason that she absolutely couldn’t go to the big Halloween party next week? She went with him last year. He knew that she was at the party the year before with Jaime, her then current boyfriend. He remembered her at other Halloween parties from when they were growing up. He thought she liked Halloween. ...

Chapter 9 – Freshmen Their freshman year was tough for Clair and Fred. Not only did they have to adapt to being away from Chain, but academic life was very different, more self-directing and requiring self-discipline. Both were also aware that the freshman class made up almost half of the university. That meant that there were a huge number of their classmates that would flunk or drop out before the year was over. Fred was convinced that some of their classes were just designed to weed out the low performers, especially Calculus. ...

Chapter 8 – Google It After too short of time, Clair’s summer was over, and it was time to head back to the “real world” and her first year at college. Besides, her mom was planning a huge 18th birthday party for her the next weekend. As Clair was saying her goodbyes and packing the car, she made a point of saying: “so, did Grandfather give you that perfume you were wearing when Mr. Franklin took you to the movies?” ...

Jackie & Wendy have a small unique dungeon set up where they entertain their submissive clients and attend to their needs. One of those clients happens to be Denise, who was also enjoying a part-time relationship with Jackie & Wendy, even though she was a client of the two. They all three enjoyed more of a sexual relationship rather than just a business arrangement between them. But it was always strictly business when they had Denise bound and gagged; she was their little submissive plaything, and they practised on her for whatever they needed to perfect before acting out on a paying customer. ...

New Arrivals Prologue Isla Del Sur, known simply as the Island to its inhabitants, was first discovered in the 16th century when a Portuguese merchant ship bound for Japan went off course after rounding the African Cape. Lost in the Indian Ocean, the ship stumbled across the uninhabited island group. The captain marked it on a chart, refreshed his supplies of food and water, and headed due west, eventually finding the African coast, where he continued on his way. Upon his return to Portugal the chart of the new discovery was forwarded to the Royal Archives and became one more state secret. It was lost until the 19th century when a minor clerk checking historical records discovered the well-preserved chart with the hand-written notes detailing how the islands were found. He immediately recognized the worth in what he had found and sold the secret to an English businessman, one of the many who came to Portugal each year to buy port wine. ...

I hope I don’t have to kill him. He’s walking towards me, maybe 50m away now. The single light on the loading bay to my left is not helping much, but his body language is still wrong, he’s tensed up, walking fast and leading with his right shoulder. “Oi, dipshit. Calm the fuck down, ok?” I shout it loud enough for him to hear easily. He stops as if he’s run out of power, then he looks around as if confused. Daft cunt. ...

Part 4. Pet Play and Cum Receptacles Emma continued holding Unworthy’s leash as they navigated through the large hall for the first “meet and greet” of the cruise. As they headed towards the N & M ranch and pet play booth, they began picking up a small crowd following them. Many were looking to talk to Emma and the elusive Miss Keys as well as their interest in Unworthy, also known to most as Miss Victoria, the brothel owner and part owner of the Subspace cruise ship. ...

The captain lit her milky scented candle. She applied the clay between her legs. She massaged the baby oil onto her B-Cup breasts. “Save us, oh goddess!” The storm raged outside. Her dildo got to work. “Olyria! Olyria! Olyria!” she shouted with each thrust. As the cruise ship was tossed up by a powerful wave, the front end leaving the water entirely, the power went out. All aboard the ill-fated cruise ship regretted ever coming aboard. ...

“Now we can proceed,” I say firmly. I click my heels on the wooden floor to where Vanessa is hanging naked from the ceiling, a position that I am very familiar with. I have been here many times myself; naked and vulnerable to the whip. “Repeat your name.” I demand of my naked captive. “Vanessa Ross.” “Do you willingly submit to the discipline that you are now to receive?” “Yes, Mistress Crystal.” ...

“Hands behind your head, Crystal,” Mistress Morgan Blair ordered. I’m standing totally naked in front of my Mistress in her library. The sun is just coming up in the Library windows. Today will be the most important day in my new career as a submissive. I do as I am told, and place my hands behind my head. I wait for her next orders. “Have you showered and dried your hair, Crystal?” ...

Juliana once again lay naked on her bed. The covers and upper sheet were pushed down to the end of the bed so that she was flat on her back uncovered on the lower sheet. Her hands were slowly sliding up and down her body as she listened to the noise of the party going on above her. This was rapidly becoming her Friday night routine. The building was very old and the walls were definitely not sound insulated, but it was all that she could afford. From her living room, she could often hear the TVs blaring in the adjacent apartments and sometimes even from the floor below. But there was never any noise from the apartment above her. ...

Chapter 10 I ran into the room, out of breath and gasping from sprinting across the large building. I found myself in a bland, white skyscraper, no colour filled the void apart from the white room and the dull, blue sky that stood at the horizon. The room I entered was an office, a large, white chair sat at a large, white table and the rest of the room had nothing else inside it. It wasn’t the room I was interested in, I ran to the other side where a plate of glass blocked me from the outside world. ...

Chapter 5: Transgression Clair was as busy the following week as a usual school week. She had several clubs, softball practice and new to the scene, she and Fred had started dating. That had caused some family discussion, but Jill defended her maturity to Bob and so, a 10pm curfew was set along with a limit of no dates on school nights unless it was a special event, like a school play or something. ...

Chapter 4: Gran Knows Jill was never sure what exactly set her daughter off, but she suspected it might have been Clair’s Psychology advanced placement class. Perhaps a discussion of family life, or sexual fetishes, or some similar topic. But for sure, when Clair came down after school that day, Jill could see that she was deep in thought, quiet and perhaps sad. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” “Oh nothing,” Clair said. ...

Chapter 3: First Week Sunday was uneventful. Clair still couldn’t get up the nerve to go down to the basement and visit with her Mom, so she worked on a school project, talked with friends, rearranged her closet. Bob slept late, then spent most of the day in his woodworking shop refinishing an antique from his Mother-in-Law’s farm. Clair offered to cook some pork chops for dinner and Bob, as was their deal, did the dishes. Bob did show Clair how he prepared Jill’s dinner and suggested that she do it herself for practice on Monday. But Clair still wasn’t interested in taking the meager cup of dinner down to her Mom. ...

Chapter 2: The Basement Bob had a tote in the basement with the equipment from the last two times they had used the “program,” which included four lengths of carefully measured ½ inch high strength steel chain and six high security padlocks. Bob would wrap one short chain tightly around Jill’s waist and padlock it. Their unfinished basement did have a few unpainted sheetrock walls, one divided the basement roughly in half between the “daylight” part that had windows onto the back yard and the front part that was mostly underground with poured cement foundation walls. The daylight part was mostly used for storage plus Bob had a simple workbench and some tools. The front of the basement had no windows and only one insulated door to enter the space. Along the front of the area was an 8 X 8 alcove that was under the main front door stoop. This alcove had a cement roof that supported the tiles in the entryway. This room was intended to be a basement half bathroom and had a simple sink and toilet. Clair had always been told the toilet was there for when they finally finished the basement into a rec-room and had not thought much about it until now. “So THAT’s what that toilet is for” Clair exclaimed when she finally figured it out. ...

Chapter 1: Jill’s Chain Jill was sitting on a slightly rusty, army surplus metal folding bed. A ½ inch chain was wrapped rather tightly around her waist and padlocked there. One end of a longer chain was locked around a steel pole with a high security padlock; the other end was locked to Jill’s belly chain. They were, of course, all products of Chain Manufacturing, Inc. Jill’s husband Bob was scurrying around the basement room busy with all kinds of tasks. Jill was deep in thought. She knew what Bob was doing was exactly what she had asked him to do, but she also knew, with great certainty, that in four or five days she would regret her consent. ...

It’s Saturday night, and by now most girls are looking forward to have sex with the men (or women) in their lives. For most, that would be regular vanilla sex. But not for me. Not anymore. Ever since my current boyfriend, Carl introduced me to the joys of bondage and discipline and made me his submissive. I now crave what I once considered perverted and degenerate. My name is Sabah Jenkins, and tonight I’m twenty-six years old. I have black hair and eyes, I’m 5 foot 4 inches tall and weigh 120 lbs. I have a nice body, with modest breasts, a thin waist, and a firm bum. ...

Part 7: This Masquerade “Since Kevin and I are the only man and woman here who are actually allowed sexual intercourse, I think we need to show you young ladies how it’s done. Close up and personal. Your mother can watch.” (We had collectively decided the previous night that the twin teens would remain virgins – technically and vaginally – and I would not be fucking Page – at least for now.) ...

The Plan She had planned it all very carefully. The time, the location, weather, equipment, even the phase of the moon for light; everything was perfect. Now she faced the one last decision to put her plan into action, the final moment at which she could stop, back out, and change her mind. Little did she realize how a simple weekend outing would turn into an adventure that profoundly changed her life. ...

Part 4 Later that day, after a roast dinner at a lovely village inn, they walked hand in hand down a green lane, chatting. Outwardly they were just a standard young couple enjoying each other’s company. But a fly on the wall would have blushed at the subject of their conversation. “So I’m thinking we’re gonna need a bigger place when we move in together after the wedding, let’s start looking right away! Estate Agents near me are always wanting to value my flat and both our places together must add up to a good sized house. I’ll get some appointments, don’t worry I dont need you to come along this is the kind of decision a sub needn’t trouble themselves over. And once we’re married it’s all official! Our lifestyle rules are going to be turned into a legal contract, not that we really need that since you’re currently in a locked cage and steel collar but, I do like to be thorough. You’re very quiet, what’s on your mind?” ...

September 30, 1960 Valeria sighed a sad little sigh as she watched Richard succumb to the sedative in his drink. She was going to be twenty-one in just a few hours. Why was she still doing these stupid little heists? She should be further on in her life by now. Once Richard was good and out, she strolled around the man’s apartment. The lawyer deserved to be robbed, she reminded herself. He was old enough to be the father of the girls he was picking up at that bar. Herself included. Relieving him of some minor Earthly trinkets would set him right. ...

CHAPTER THREE I WASN’T SURE at first whether or not I’d returned to the waking world. The sight of the clean, white room before my eyes was warped and fuzzy, none of the details quite clear. People moved through the room in front of me, but I couldn’t see who, or what they were doing, or really anything but vague shapes and colors. I thought maybe I was experiencing some kind of sleep paralysis. I tried to move, but there was a heavy pressure closing in on me from every side that kept me completely immobile. I could move my eyes, but I couldn’t blink, and yet my eyes hadn’t dried out. The pressure extended into my mouth, keeping me from moving my jaw and forcing me to breathe steadily, and even up my asshole. ...

1 “…I don’t understand sir, they just left me here without even saying goodbye?” “First off, could you do me a favor and not call me ‘sir’ when they’re not around?” “I didn’t want to be disrespectful to you; but yes obviously.” “Thank you, I don’t really feel like a sir at this particular moment, so Dennis is fine. So anyway, are you okay with all this? I built this contraption just to see if I could, but actually seeing you hooked up to it, and seeing again the way they treat you, I just need to hear you tell me that you’re good with all this.” ...

Janet had finally finished the harness having already made the sleeves of the heavy coat look like they had arms and hands and felt she was ready to try out her latest public bondage torture. Janet loved bondage especially public self bondage and every year when the temperature dropped she was ready with multiple outings planned using her heavy coats as cover. Over the last few years Janet had found or created many different props for her outings with a few of them becoming regulars. Now she was ready to try a different approach, adding a large variable: her very excitable Labrador. The idea had grown from watching him pull at his collar choking himself and the hidden desire that she had always wished she was the one being led around on a short leash with a tight collar. As the idea grew she figured out ways to use her favorite gag, her heavy nipple piercings with her custom leg braces and even the modified bark collar she often wore when she was actually walking him. ...

The body lay at the bottom of the ravine. An unnaturally twisted leg indicated broken bones. Sightless eyes stared at the distant sky. The man’s weathered face revealed that he had spent much time outdoors, maybe working on a ranch as his cowboy-style clothing suggested. Blood had oozed from his fractured skull, matted the greying hair, and formed a pool on the rocky bed of the dried creek. The side of his head was smashed in. Frank whistled soundlessly while he looked around. If the man had cracked his temple on a boulder, the latter should have been in evidence nearby. ...

Part 2 The first week was a rush. The steel cage was heavy, and he felt it all the time. It was a constant reminder of her, and this was a good feeling. Not so helpful were the dirty messages and photos she kept sending him, as trying to get hard in this cage was totally impossible and it quickly became uncomfortable when he got physically aroused. In his old cage there was maybe an inch of spare space and the slit at the end was large enough that the very tip could poke out and reduce the discomfort. Steel does not yield however, and this cage was just the right size to allow no lengthwise growth at all, just a thickening which made him bulge through the bars. It looked hot a fuck. ...

A Bad Night I woke up with a headache and a bad taste in my mouth. That wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but I had no idea why. Try as I might I could not remember a single thing after eating lunch yesterday. I think it was yesterday; I wasn’t even sure of the date. That’s when I fully woke up. Something was very wrong. I was lying on my stomach, with my hands and arms behind my back. Or rather fastened behind my back; I recognized the bite of handcuffs locked on my wrists. The moment I tried to move my hands I discovered the chain around my waist, holding the handcuffs in position in the small of my back. I knew what that meant: transport chains, enhanced security, and a serious problem for me. ...

…“Sir?” I asked, and there was no response from the evil machine standing before me. I then spit out the switches that were in my mouth, thinking perhaps that Sir didn’t understand my mumbled attempt at speech. “Sir, this is urgent!” “DID WE NOT JUST DISCUSS THE ONLY PROPER WAY FOR DOGS TO SPEAK WITH THEIR MASTER”? “Master?” I questioned in my mind, didn’t masters own slaves, or were we still on this ridiculous dog thing exclusively? ...

CHAPTER THREE Finn’s Fetish Factory Funhouse Finn stood in the spotlight looking at the crowd for a moment as a bevy of black clad stage hands rushed out and completely cleared the stage area. There was then some creaking and groaning as a large hexagonal ring slowly wheeled itself into the middle of the area. The ring had thick padded sides which extended up about a foot over its floor creating a swimming pool like area that was filled about half way with a clear liquid that had the sheen of oil. Obviously the ring was intended for oil wrestling, but there were no contestants yet visible. ...

Part 7b She woke from complete exhaustion to find Carlos moving the blanket off of her. He was naked and had a huge erection. “The code didn’t work, bitch.” He snarled at her as he rolled her on to her back. “Now you’re going to pay.” Gina took stock. Her shoulders still hurt pretty bad but could be used. She was wearing a collar and looked to see the chains running from it to either side of the garage, holding her in place. She still had both sets of suspension cuffs on. As she was rolled on her back she felt a bit tender but really not sore anymore and not in pain. And Carlos wanted his normal Saturday morning wake-up call. Goody! ...

Part 7c They got back home and went back to the garage. It was about 2 pm on Saturday. Gina stripped off, painfully pulling out of the sports bra, then put the suspension cuffs back on her wrists and ankles and let Carlos put her back where she had been, strapped spread-eagled to the plywood. She wasn’t happy when he put the nipple nooses back on but stretched out by wrists and ankles she couldn’t stop him. ...

(story continues from Indecent Proposal 6) Part Seven …As I lay there on that beach sleep wouldn’t come to me this time, but I wasn’t exactly awake either. I heard the seagulls and the distant surf, and even my own relaxed heartbeat as well; I almost felt like a dormant computer in standby mode just waiting for somebody to accidentally bump the desk and shake my mouse awake. I was blissfully relaxed with Jack watching over me, like the most comfortable I’ve ever been, and this is saying something as I was stretched out on a nude beach in public while thinking about it, all while pretending to be Jack’s lusty wife. Laying there I also smelled both the coconut oil and Jack’s manly scent, and even the less intrusive smells of the beach. I felt the heat of the sun cook my naked back side like an oven, but what really seemed profound to me was that I FELT Jack next to me. Not his physical body, but his presence. ...

Part 5: Mouth “Mom, it looks like so much fun, so Renee and I wondered; would it be alright if we got tied up?” The ludicrously uninhibited woman from a decade past who called herself “Jewell” would have immediately grabbed for a set of cuffs. But Page thought for a moment, and, to her credit, told the girls, “Let’s put a pin in that. We’ll consider it for later. The idea is that you girls are in control, moving at your own pace, never forced into anything. Especially by this brute.” ...

Day 2.1 - Her Turn Cassy woke up feeling fairly rested. She had been so tired that she had slept curled up, only turning occasionally. Each movement would remind her that she was a very happy sex slave, chained to her masters’ bed with a boat lock. The chain’s thickness was almost ridiculous, but it was in line with the extra massive metal collar she also wore. As she blinked her eyes open, trying to adjust to the beam of light that seemed focused just on her place on the floor, she saw two eyes blinking back at her. Amy looked like a kid in a candy store, or a kid waiting ‘patiently’ by their parent’s bed on Christmas morning. The amount of excitement in her eyes was almost ludicrous. ...

Day 2.2 - His Turn Cassy had to get the idea of what she would do at the end of the week—to get out of this mess—out of her mind. After all, she was only on day 2, and it was still morning, and she had only been fucked by one of them so far, and not fucked by the couple, and not done all of her chores. Maybe some boring chores, led and controlled by the computer, would help her clear her mind and give her time to think. ...

Can’t sleep? Desperate for a little rest? We here at the Temple of Domina suggest praying to the Demi-Goddess “The Sitter”.* Fuck it. I was desperate. I hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in weeks. My body was ready to collapse but my mind just would not allow it. I searched online for anything that would help. I tried it all but to no avail. So, when I found a link to this strange page, I was ready to try it. ...

Day 1.2 - Evening Cassy could only think about what had just happened to her, in her own master bedroom, with her own husband, and her housemaid. Distracted, she had not realized that she was walking. She had not noticed that she had had to turn her body sideways to proceed slowly down two flights of stairs, one slow step at a time. She hadn’t felt the pain that the insanely high heels she was wearing were causing her. She didn’t notice when she had just entered her new room in the basement, but she did notice how bare and lonely it was without Amy or her husband. She had a fleeting thought of fucking the bed again, simply to stave off her impending boredom. Her libido had not been sated even after two powerful orgasms today. First things first though, she needed to get these ballet heels off before she tore a muscle. ...

Part 1 When I pressed my thumb on the reader, my personal info appeared on the computer screen sitting on the shiny white desk. The lady behind it seemed detached from the moment as she punched a few things in her system, making sure to make me feel unimportant. A bit of good customer service wouldn’t have hurt, but somehow, I couldn’t blame her; her job recently got very dull and depressing, and it was no fault of her own. Going from a skilled bot customizer to an irrelevant cashier in a matter of a day was probably not what she had in mind when she got this job. ...

My Master is making me write this story about my latest punishment. He says he will make me read it out loud at the next munch as a warning to all of the other slaves to behave and listen to their Masters. He doesn’t punish me very often, partly because he thinks I like it. He said to tell the absolute truth in this, so I guess I have to admit that if it’s a spanking, I usually do like it. Sometimes when he spanks me, I like it a lot. ...

Chapter 6 “Mmmmm,” I whimpered softly to myself. We had only been in the bedroom for ten minutes but Emily already had me completely naked and on the bed. Emily was nearly naked herself, wearing only her bra and panties, a collection of our clothes were laid out on the floor. My orders were to lie completely still and close my eyes, I was happy to oblige as I was slowly fading to the realm of sleep anyway. ...

Chapter 5 - Punishment is Happiness “Leave us.” “Yes, your Majesty.” Clunk! The heavy reinforced wooden door closed behind the Queen. Everything that would happen in this room located deep within her dungeon would not be witnessed by anybody other than her victim and herself. Graciously, she stepped deeper into the candlelit chamber. After carefully removing the wolf mask that concealed her identity and placing it on the nearby desk, she began to take off her complicated yet light dress. When it dropped down on the floor, the cold and humid air of the dungeon brushed against her naked skin, but she didn’t mind. Cold didn’t affect her. She slowly walked to the central table on which a black-skinned girl was securely tied up with chains fastened to each corner. ...

Chapter 5 “Em?” I whispered groggily as I gently woke up from my dream. Last night, Emily laid in my arms as we fell asleep together. Admittedly, It was a nice moment, but now she was nowhere to be seen. I rose up slowly from my blankets with a mixed feeling of the day before in the pit of my stomach, I remembered the fun we had with the sex shop, Emily buying a butt plug for the first time and me coming home with the dominatrix outfit. ...

Chapter 29 - Cooking Pets It was early in the morning, too early. I could have stayed in bed and rested because, frankly, spending time with ALL the petgirls out of costume all at once wasn’t easy. My little friends could be sexually demanding. At night, they gave Oreo and me some privacy, but it was a different story during the day. I never had as much sex over two days. I was wondering if there was a correlation between that and Oreo’s cute BDSM outfit I borrowed. Maybe that new look had made me more desirable. ...

Every summer, mothers of local Gopher Scouts volunteer to serve as senior advisors at an all boys camp. For the last three years, these three housewives have stayed together in a separate cabin that has become known in the camp as “MILF Mansion” of “Playtime Pussy Palace”. It is common knowledge these fine ladies only come to the camp to get away from their husbands or party for a week. They have become the featured entertainment in the evenings with the senior male counselors. Wild nights and wild sex have become an annual event for the three suburban soccer moms. ...

…“JESSICA, YOU WILL GO TO THE FAR SIDE OF THE ESTATE AND FIND A SUPPLE GREEN TWIG THREE TO FOUR FEET IN LENGTH, THE WILLOW TREE BY THE STREAM WOULD BE A GOOD FIRST CHOICE, UNLESS YOU WISH TO BE WANDERING AROUND IN YOUR EXCESS SKIN ALL MORNING. YOU WILL THEN BREAK IT FROM THE TREE AND RETURN TO ME WITH IT CLENCHED IN YOUR TEETH LIKE A GOLDEN RETRIEVER THAT HAS BEEN PROPERLY TRAINED, ALL SO I CAN BEGIN YOUR OWN TRAINING. IN THIS WAY YOU WILL ASSOCIATE THE STING OF THE SWITCH WITH YOUR SOUR MOUTH, THE IRONY OF HAVING YOU SELECT AND DELIVER THE IMPLEMENT OF YOUR OWN PUNISHMENT JUST TOO SWEET TO PASS UP.” ...

…It was nothing but a Sunday morning summer hike, or at least that’s the way we had planned it. We like to get out together, away from cell phone signals, and the hustle and bustle of everyday life. These little day hikes are almost like therapy for a married couple like us, and I truly like spending time with my husband, he’s a great guy, very giving. He generally likes to be the one doing the giving, but every now and then he surprises me, reminding me that there are two of him inside that one body, just like there are inside myself. ...

Once again it’s been a long time since I’ve written so over the next few weeks I’m going to try to catch up with some of the things that have happened over the last year and then some. And, as I’ve said in the past, everything I tell you about is true and the conversations, while they may not be word for word, are, as best as I recall, accurate. ...

Part 18: Owned My first full summer of dares was actually coming to a close, the girls brought me back to the abandoned hospital on our way home and we three retrieved my things without incident, although while I was still naked with my arms cuffed behind my back in their well dressed presence, all because I had asked for such. I think my “asking” for this treatment confirmed for my two pretty friends that I was still “into” this, but by this point we were, in all reality, well past the “asking” phase of our new relationship. The place also still had a certain “feel” to it for us girls, magnified for me I think because of my nudity and restraint, but that was a subject better left for another day. ...

I fell back to the bed, with a thin layer of sweat that coated the entire length of my naked body. Sexual moans and groans had once filled the room but now had been replaced by an aftermath of heavy breaths, nothing sexual but to get air back into my lungs. Heat radiated from my body and caused the sweat to leave my body, soaking the messed up sheets that laid underneath me. ...

Chapter 4 - The Sun Warrior “Let me look at you. Why are you so pretty? Your hair is so blue. I love it so much.” “You are pretty too, Evelyn.” I loved my life this morning. Last night, Nam and I returned to our cabin, leaving Aria and Bethany to their fun, and we had torrid sex all evening until both of us passed out from exhaustion. Earlier, when Nam woke up, she had tried to sneak out to go mining, but I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back in bed. I needed more out of her little tongue. ...

Paul and Jen were a young couple looking for their first home together. They had searched long and hard for the perfect place and had one hard to fulfill requirement. They were kinky and enjoyed bondage, and they wanted a space in their home that could become somewhere to enjoy themselves away from their vanilla lives, a part of the house if they could find it that was secure. They didn’t really know what they wanted, yet they did. ...

“Is this Abigail Scranton?” the woman on the phone asked. “Yes,” I answered sleepily. I tried to keep my voice down so I wouldn’t wake my pets. The boys were happily laying their heads on my tits, nipples just inches from their mouths. Once they woke they would be suckling waiting for their mistress to play with them. “This is Carol from the local Temple of Domina.” “How can I help you?” ...

Chapter 4 “What do you think of this one?” Emily asked, picking up a white shirt with a cute cat pattern on the front. “It looks okay” I gave it a quick glimpse. The small town my father forced me to move into had hardly any decent shops. It was a quiet place that had lost many of it’s buildings to time. The high street, which was once full of life has now transformed into a wasteland of empty windows. For every one store that was open and serving customers, two stores were completely abandoned. As none of the open shops were clothing stores, me and Emily had to look through a few charity shops instead, most of them interested my sister… but to me they were all ugly. ...

One of the things you may notice about my fantasy writing is that a lot of the same themes play over in them. Part of that is because we’re dealing with my fantasies, but it’s also because when it comes to describing a particular scene I tend to base it off my experiences. I try to remember what things felt like, tasted like, smelled like and while I may change things around or amplify the BDSM aspects of the scene in my story, I’m writing based on what I can see in my head if that makes any sense. ...

Carol and Diana had been friends since their schooldays and even now, in their early 20’s were seldom seen apart. Even their birthdays were on the same day. It was a joke that both sets of parents said that they had two daughters. They were even able to share their clothes, being almost the same sizes. Diana was a honey blonde and Carol’s hair was so black it shone almost blue, and both kept their hair in a neat page boy style. When Diana’s parents were killed in an accident, it was only natural, as there were no other family members that she moved in with Carol’s parents. Shortly after they had turned 19, Carol’s parents also died, leaving her also with no family and alone in the world apart from Diana. Sadly, due to poor investments, there was nothing left for Carol to inherit, so both girls went out and found jobs at the same store. They were able to rent a flat near their place of work and settled down together. They both found that they were uncomfortable with men so seldom went out and even slept in the same bed. Although they often kissed and cuddled each other, it never progressed any further. ...

It takes a lot to surprise me, but having a six-foot tall leprechaun dressed in a green baseball hat, green running shoes, green sweatpants, and a white Notre Dame sweatshirt ring my doorbell did it. He didn’t look like a leprechaun, but I knew that’s what he was. I’d recognize Danny Boy anywhere. Especially since the stylized, fists-up little man on the Notre Dame sweatshirt wasn’t the true Notre Dame logo. Instead, it was a fairly accurate portrayal of the Danny Boy who had visited me in the middle of the night a few years ago. ...

Chapter One: Sunny Side Up I’m not sure why I pulled my rented, blood red, economy car off the highway, in a fateful decision to explore the small town of Sunnyside. Maybe it was because I was ahead of schedule in my drive back to my university from visiting a friend in a neighboring state or perhaps it was because I had heard so many amazing stories about how beautiful and affluent the town was that I just had to see it for myself. ...

…I woke to the sunshine coming into the bedroom window of the lake house sometime late the next morning, how exactly I got there, and inside, a mystery to me. I thought last night might have been a nightmare, but Sam sitting up in the chair next to my bed, and obviously having slept there to keep watch over me, gave lie to that notion. My legs were still loosely bound together too, but my wrists had been untied, although I don’t know exactly when that happened either. ...

Each year at Halloween, two neighborhood families get together to have a unique Halloween adventure. In past years, they have traveled around the county visiting advertised haunted houses and escape rooms to add some excitement and sometimes unusual adventures to celebrate the day of ghosts and goblins. Mark and Maggie Newsome and their daughter Tina found an advertisement for a new haunted house that also provided costumes to re-enact some historical people and the events that led to their demise. This very unusual haunted house piqued the interest of the Newsome family to explore for this year’s Halloween excursion. After talking to the next door neighbors about reading the ad, Joe and Marcie Leed decided to join the Newsome’s and check out the Halloween Haunted House of History Horrors. ...

…Sleep didn’t come easily to me that night. I was mentally excited, and physically struggling for a comfortable way to lay on the cot while being cuffed. I even resorted to helplessly pulling the blanket back up with my teeth when I repositioned myself. I also had a long afternoon nap earlier in the day, so that must also factor in there someplace. In Jane’s commanding presence all this felt almost normal to me, but to anybody else watching it surely wasn’t. Not many normal people would appreciate being cuffed and locked up alone for the night, nor stripped naked for such either, but I have long since discovered that I’m not normal. ...

…Sleep didn’t come easily to me that night. I was mentally excited, and physically struggling for a comfortable way to lay on the cot while being cuffed. I even resorted to helplessly pulling the blanket back up with my teeth when I repositioned myself. I also had a long afternoon nap earlier in the day, so that must also factor in there someplace. In Jane’s commanding presence all this felt almost normal to me, but to anybody else watching it surely wasn’t. Not many normal people would appreciate being cuffed and locked up alone for the night, nor stripped naked for such either, but I have long since discovered that I’m not normal. ...

My story starts way back at the turn of the millennium. For clarity, I probably should have just said, “My story begins in the year 2000,” but I really want people to read my story and the turn of the millennium sounds so much more foreboding than the year 2000. Maybe it would be even more ominous to say that my story begins on the first Halloween of the new millennium. ...

David Atkins stirred in his sleep and lazily almost opened his eyes. The steady thrum of the aircraft engines was such a lulling sound. Then it hit him. Jet engines don’t thrum, they purr. He came fully awake with a start and looked frantically around. If his seat belt hadn’t been holding him tightly in the seat, he would probably have jumped to his feet. He stared out the window at the silver wing and the two rapidly spinning propellers. The wing was straight and shaped differently from what he normally saw. It looked more like something from an old movie. ...

Chapter 3 - Plums and Nuts “NAM! NAAAAM! THERE IS SOMEBODY OUTSIDE!” “Yes, I saw the hand on the window.” I jumped back on the bed and quickly pulled the blanket over my head. “Why is there someone else in my world? I selected SOLO! Not multiplayer!” “I don’t know, Evelyn. Shouldn’t you let that person in and ask?” “WHAT!? ARE YOU NUTS? What if… What if he kills us?” ...

Chains of Ink There were times, and places, when a person had to reflect upon the situation they found themselves in and ponder just how they had ended up there. For Zoe Sharpe that moment came one morning, or at least it felt as if enough time had passed for it to be morning, when she found herself in the somewhat uncomfortable position of sitting naked on a hard wooden floor, every inch of her pale skin completely bare and the tattoos that ran up and down her arms and legs as well as across her chest and back on full display. The room that she found herself in was cramped, little more than a closet really, with plain white walls and a bare bulb hanging overheat to cast stark, blaring bright light across every surface. The place was also a little chilly, goosebumps covered her bare skin and her pierced nipples stood out proudly, but that discomfort was secondary in her mind. No, the thing about her current predicament that Zoe felt more keenly than the hard floor beneath her or the cool air were the ropes that bound her almost uncomfortably tightly. A harness of the rough hemp cords had been tied around her chest and ample breasts before being woven around her torso and pulled between her legs, tight enough to be both mildly arousing and to ensure that even the tiniest movements made them dig into her sensitive flesh. Her arms had also been pulled sharply behind her back, secured in a box tie and affixed to her chest harness in such a way that she could not move them even a little despite what felt like hours of trying. Finally, her ankles had been bound together, forcing her to sit cross-legged, with the trailing ends of that rope tied around her neck in such a way that she had to hunch over slightly. Adding to her discomfort a large ring gag had been forced between her lips, stretching her jaws wide, before the thong she had been wearing was stuffed into her mouth and layers of black tape had been wrapped over the gag to ensure she had no hope of working it loose. After struggling for what felt like the hours, as the dark bags under bloodshot eyes and the streaks of mascara running down her cheeks attested, Zoe’s body ached and her jaw was throbbing. ...

Sunday morning, Nicole was awakened by a commotion outside. She looked at the clock. It was only 6:30 in the morning and Annabelle wasn’t in bed. Nicole hurried into the kitchen and then yelped slightly. Annabelle, Frank, and three farmhands were sitting around the table drinking coffee and eating donuts. “It’s OK, cowgirl,” Annabelle said quickly. “Frank knows everything and so do the farmhands.” She pointed across the table and said, “I think you’ve met the three M’s. ...

Turnabout is Fair Play The music was practically a living thing, the base thumping in time with her heart in a steady rhythm that seemed to settle into her very bones. In combination with the dim lighting and garish flashes of neon the atmosphere was somehow both familiar and surreal all at once as the gathered crowd swayed and thrashed to the beat. The heat and implacable press of bodies created a wild, almost primal pressure that seemed to rush in from every direction and overwhelm the senses, a raw sensuality that tingled along the skin like a set of ghostly hands. And yet, as she moved in the center of this inescapable mass Zoe was only barely aware of it. Eyes closed, all of her attention was instead focused on the woman in her arms. Alexis swayed to the music with a sinuous grace that was intoxicating in its own right, the woman shaking her hips back and forth in a slow and steady rhythm as she ground her ass against Zoe’s own hips, a silent promise of things to come. Biting the corner of her lip as she reveled in the sensation, a familiar ache pulsing in her loins, Zoe allowed her hands to roam over the tattooed skin of the other woman’s bare stomach, exploring the exposed flesh between Alexis’ sinfully short skirt and crop top, the heat of the other woman’s body betraying her excitement. From months spent etching each and every one of those tattoos she knew Alexis’ curves by heart and all the places to touch that beautifully bronzed flesh to make the woman moan or twitch or even scream. And, as she explored the other woman’s sensitive spots, feeling more than hearing the redhead purr in response, Zoe almost could not believe how lucky she was to have such a beautiful creature in her arms. Of course, that was not all. Even as she felt Alexis writhe against her from the front Morgan’s tall, lanky form pressed firmly against her back, the coffee-colored woman’s hands resting on her hips as she guided their bodies to sway in time with the music. ...

Bloody Kiss As a famous, or rather infamous, club located in a busy district near downtown, most would have thought that Delirium never closed. Indeed, that impression was only stronger among those who had spent any time gathered there, crowded onto its dance floor or fighting for a seat at the tables, swimming amid the seas of humanity eager for a drink or a place at the theater. However, that impression was wrong. While it was normally closed during the day, the doors only opening once the sun set, there were rare occasions in which the club did not open at all. There was never any explanation as to why, it was just one of those little mysteries that all the most interesting places seemed to have. Most assumed that there was some practical, mundane reason. Certain holidays, cleaning, maintenance, supply deliveries or even just a chance for the staff, who were busy on the best of nights, to rest and relax. Other preferred wilder speculations of secret gatherings and private shows that crossed what few lines that Delirium seemed to have. No one on the staff ever commented, beyond the occasional coy smile, and that lack of an explanation served the club’s mystique well and certainly seemed to make it more popular. But it still left the question of why. All of these things were on Brianna’s mind as she rolled up to the mostly empty parking lot behind the club. Coasting as close to the building as possible she slammed down the kickstand of the old Honda motorcycle and killed the engine, letting it sputter to a stop before pulling off her helmet and spending a moment tossing some life back into her bright blue hair. Gazing up at the large edifice, its neon sign illuminated only by the nearby streetlights, she could not help but wonder. Under most circumstances she probably would have agreed that there was some mundane reason for the club’s periodic closures, but now? Given what she knew of Delirium’s owner she was more inclined to think that there might be more to it than that. And when she had a personal invitation to ‘stop by’ on one such night? Well, perhaps she might get an answer. ...

‘Shit!’ Michael thought, ‘this doesn’t look good’. An old pick-up truck stuck in a snow bank at 11:00 at night wasn’t the problem. That it was minus 28f degrees, combined with a girl walking around in a t-shirt was. This girl was suffering from severe hypothermia, and he had to act right now. He had read about this, and knew that she was in serious trouble. He pulled his car up beside her, stopped, and opened his door almost at the same time. He grabbed her and dragged her to the passenger side of his car, opened the door and practically threw her in. He then turned to the stuck truck, and ran over to it to see if anyone else was in it. It was empty. ...

Master gave me a task today. To document my typical day. Maybe I’ll introduce myself first. My name is Jade. Wait no my name is Emily. Jade is the name that Master gave me. I think it is because my eyes are bright green. Master has never told me. I have always just been Jade. I don’t know Master’s name. Actually I don’t really know anything about him. I have never really met him. I answered a job ad, it was like any job ad - professional seeks full time personal assistant for specific role. It noted 24/7 live in position but I assumed that was to be on-call at all times. I guess I am on-call but wasn’t expecting this level of on-call. I had an interview via Master’s lawyer who went through the entire role in very specific details. I had to complete a physical and mental health assessment, as well as drug, alcohol and STD tests. Payment terms and conditions were negotiated. The remuneration package was very generous. Very generous! Some very weird items had to be signed off. This is so weird but somehow now just feels normal and right. I have been here for 3 months now, with 9 months to go. The agreement was simple and clear. I would be Master’s pet dog for 12 months. ...

Chapter 1 “It’s Monday night and that can only mean one thing…it’s time for Kneel or No Kneel!” the announcer’s voice boomed across the soundstage as thunderous applause from the audience erupted. Spot lights instantly came to life, shining hot lights upon the stage where I stood in silence. “Now here’s your favorite host, the one…the only…Horny Bondel!” “Thank you, thank you, it’s great to be here for another episode of Kneel or No Kneel,” Horny said as he confidently strode to the center of the stage where I awaited him. “Tonight we have the lovely Kristin Kailey competing. It’s great to have you with us Kristin.” ...

…You never know what life will throw at you, case in point my next customer was apparently new in town, and wanted an alarm system for her fine new home. This wasn’t “my town,” and wasn’t some cookie cutter Mc-mansion in a sub-division either, but a beautiful massive stone building way out in farm country that reeked of wealth, both the original owner’s well over a hundred and fifty plus years earlier, and apparently this older woman’s who was to be my next customer. The stone construction was timeless, and I like the aesthetics of such buildings personally, my own humble stick constructed home - that wasn’t really mine any longer - almost certainly dust one day, where this fine home will still likely be standing long after we’re all gone. ...

Nicole arrived at the farm at exactly eight o’clock. At Annabelle’s direction, she parked her car at the house and stepped out naked. She left her small purse and the yellow and white sundress on the floor in front of the passenger seat. “So, my naked little cowgirl,” Annabelle asked, “did you drive all the way naked?” “Yes,” Nicole replied, “and my car wasn’t parked right next to the back doors of the apartment. It was at the back of the parking lot.” She took a deep breath and then said, “Maybe next time I will park out front.” ...

Chapter 2 - Best Parasite Ever “Aaah! That felt good, Alli.” “Tell me about it, Sky.” “Did… did I mess up? I just wanted you to feel good while I was feeding.” “Oh, it felt good, alright. Did you eat enough?” “More than enough. There was a lot of dead skin on your chest. I will soon be as strong as I used to.” After Skylar retracted to the back of my neck, I ran my hands on my boobs, and they were SO soft, almost glowing. That had to be the best skin treatment in the entire universe; what else to expect from a hungry alien? ...

…At first it had been a thrill, and nearly custom made for one with my specific skills. I was a gymnast after all, tiny and lithe by modern standards, but apparently just not good enough to keep my spot on the university’s team. They cut me in favor of another with far wealthier parents. Has money even changed hands to lubricate the process? I wondered, surely this was not a first for university athletics. I was, upon reflection, just a little bitter at the time, but at the same time not to be dissuaded from my goals either… ...

Chapter 2 - Progress “Morning, Nam!” “Morning, Evelyn.” “You slept a lot. You must have been tired.” “Yes. Because you played with my body in a very pleasant manner until late last night.” “NAM! You could have mentioned your exhausting mining trip first!” “No, mining wasn’t so bad. But when you played with my…” “Alright, alright! Enough. Look… I got 734 points now.” “So you can spawn the Building core item, then.” ...

Chapter 24 - Comfort Pets “Alright, Clara. Let’s put your hat back on, so you are well disguised when we walk back in the building.” “Oh, and her raincoat too!” “Right!” It was a terrible idea when we left the building, and it was still a terrible idea now that we tried to sneak back in. To reach the pethouse at the top of the big insurance building, we were about to enter using the back door, but we would still have to walk through some common areas before reaching the elevators near the lobby. ...

Part 14 With a soft groan and still mostly asleep Brianna rolled over, entangled in the blankets haphazardly thrown over her naked body and yet inexplicably cold despite that. Frowning softly she reached out, almost blindly for her companions and the warmth of their bodies. However only an empty mattress greeted her and, frown deepening, she mumbled wordlessly in confusion before finally opening her eyes. It was still deep in the night and the room was nearly pitch black, lit only faintly by the glow of the alarm clock that cast a strange red tinge over everything. Reaching up to rub sleep from her eyes as she propped herself up on one hand, Brianna looked about the room. Across from her the blankets and sheets had been thrown back and indentations in the mattress confirmed that she had indeed not been alone when she went to sleep. Moreover, looking down at her arms revealed the faint lines of rope marks on her wrists and elbows, to say nothing of a lingering soreness between her legs from the rather… vigorous love-making of earlier, stood as proof positive that she hadn’t just been dreaming. While that confirmation brought a faint smile to her lips it still did not answer the question of why she was alone. More awake now, she rolled over to sit up in bed, allowing the blanket to pool around her waist and scanned the dark room more thoroughly. While it was difficult to see clearly, the floor was still strewn haphazardly with clothing, most of which was not her own, and the door was now wide open. Kiera and Murial likely had not gone far then if they were still naked, a thought which brought a small blush to Brianna’s face. Shaking her head she glanced at the alarm, bright red numbers flashing 2:00 AM. No more than a few hours since she had fallen asleep then. Odd that she wouldn’t have noticed her companions leaving though, to be fair, she had been fairly exhausted earlier. ...

Bored. I was so unbelievably bored. Today was particularly dull, as many of my days often are. School was as monotonous as ever for me, I usually got top grades, and nothing challenged me. I never really participated in any sports teams, preferring to keep to myself, and though I had my share of friends, I was often by myself with just my thoughts and my laptop to keep me company, by choice rather than circumstance. Oh, but where are my manners? My name is Sarah, I’m 24 years old and I live in Toronto, Canada. Life in the city is pretty good, but dreadfully boring most of the time, and the nightclubs and restaurants and other entertainment available rarely did much to quell that boredom. There was one thing though that did however: the garbage. ...

Part 11 If she was being completely honest with herself Brianna knew that on that long ago winter morning when she’d lain naked and bound on her mistress’ couch with Claudia, equally naked and bound, lying on top of her she had not fully believed the other girl’s tale of being mummified and edged for an entire week. It wasn’t that she’d thought Claudia was lying, she believed that the event had happened but she hadn’t really been able to wrap her mind around it. Brianna certainly had a frame of reference, she’d been confined in very strict bondage numerous times and even been mummified more than once, in fact she’d discovered that she really liked being mummified, and certainly knew what it felt like to be edged. That seemed to be her mistress’ favorite pastime some days and she’d certainly experienced a wide variety of toys that both Roxanna and Sofia seemed adept at using to bring her to the very brink of climax and hold her there for as long as they liked. Hell, she’d spent the very night she’d heard that story as a mummified body pillow, Roxanna clinging to her helplessly wrapped form while a vibrator buzzed away inside of her. Even so Claudia’s almost visceral descriptions of being so horny she felt as if she were about to burst and, when it was over, cumming so hard she’d passed out had felt so strangely unreal. Oh, if she looked back at her experiences Brianna could sort of understand. The incredible frustration and overwhelming need for release as well as the strange way that denial seemed to amplify the intensity of her pleasure, Brianna had experienced all of these things to varying degrees. But when the seed of the idea of recreating Claudia’s experience had formed, to know for herself what such incredible and total submission felt like, she hadn’t really known what to expect. And though she doubted that she would ever admit it part of her was certain that Claudia had been exaggerating. ...

Part 12 From her position, slightly curled up in the chair as if to make herself as unobtrusive as possible, Brianna watched as Kiera took another step into the room and her smile widened just a little as she did so. It was not the sort of teasing or mischievous smile she might have expected in this situation but rather it seemed as if the woman was honestly happy to be here and perhaps just a bit amused at the knowledge that she was interrupting something. As she stopped, about a pace away from Roxanna’s barely covered form, she paused for a brief moment as her golden brown eyes roamed over the other woman’s body, paying special attention to the amount of cleavage that Roxanna’s robe exposed, but the olive-skinned woman did not seem moved at all by the attention, just continued to fix the unexpected guest with an almost flat stare as she waited for her question to be answered. Still not deigning to speak just yet, Kiera’s eyes briefly glanced across the room and Brianna felt her face heat up with a heady mix of embarrassment and a flush of arousal as those eyes spotted her peaking just over the back of the chair she was sitting in. Although part of her wanted to duck down and hide Brianna found herself unable to move, pinned in place by those oddly intense eyes like a deer in headlights. At that the dusky woman’s smile shifted into a tiny smirk, her soft pink lips parting slightly as she turned her head back toward Roxanna. Letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding Brianna felt herself relax as those eyes finally left hers, but her heart was still racing and her body practically on fire. ...

Arrival Once the police had me in the van I had nowhere to go. The seat belt held me down, with the buckle out of my reach so I couldn’t take it off. The reason for that were the handcuffs on my wrists, keeping my hands secured behind my back. Although I knew the arrest was staged everything was by the book. The officers who took me into custody played their part well, almost as if they weren’t aware it was all preplanned. ...

Part 4 Brianna found herself floating in darkness, her mind strangely quiet while her body was distant and relaxed. She thought she could feel something warm and pleasant pressed tightly against herself and there was a faint sense of pressure, almost like being wrapped up in a blanket on a lazy afternoon, but it was vague at best. It was nice though. All that she really, truly felt was a sense of contentment and an all consuming weariness that felt right and comfortable somehow. Time was impossible to tell as she drifted through the darkness, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, until a new and foreign sensation reached her. It was slight at first, distant, like something pressed against her shoulder, but it slowly grew, demanding more and more attention from her consciousness. It felt almost as if someone was shaking her arm. There was a sound as well, one growing louder and louder as it echoed in the darkness. Curious, she focused on the sound, trying to puzzle out why it was so familiar to her drifting thoughts. Eventually the sound resolved itself into a voice, though the identity of the speaker danced just outside of her perceptions. ...

Part 6 The heat of the summer had finally faded as August bled into September and began to turn cold as the days of October slowly passed. Brianna was honestly of two minds about that. On the one hand she certainly didn’t miss the heavy and often oppressive heat, to say nothing of how easily her pale skin burned in the sun, but on the other hand she couldn’t deny that after this last summer? It had certainly become her favorite season and she was sad to see it go. Even thinking back on it now brought a smile to her face and a shiver up her spine. Of taking that desperate plunge and admitting her desires, finding them returned and experiencing a whole new world of sex and bondage, pleasure and self discovery as she submitted to her mistresses and their relationship slowly formed as they spent more time together. The memories of it were never far from her mind and even now it all mingled together to create a warm and nostalgic feeling in her chest. Of course time had moved on, as it always did, and the day that Brianna had dreaded came at last. The summer ended and she packed her bags to continue her education. It had been a tearful departure but Roxanna and Sofia had never been anything other than encouraging and, as with so many other things in life, the anticipation had proven far worse than the actual event. Even so as the weeks passed she found herself thinking about it more and more often, the memories lingering in the back of her mind and the ghostly sensations she could still feel on her skin combining in a way that was both pleasant and distracting. Truth be told she’d caught herself daydreaming about it more than once, to say nothing of her actual dreams about all the things they had done. Some were so intense that she still woke up sweaty and panting and, for that brief instant between wakefulness and sleep, thinking she was still there in their bed and in their arms. ...

Part 5 It had been 7 days, or 168 hours, or 10,080 minutes since Brianna Wilde had found herself first locked in a chastity belt. It seemed like a lot longer than it actually was when she thought about it like that but while objectively speaking she knew that her experience had been relatively short there were moments when it had felt like an eternity. If nothing else she had gained a new appreciation for how cavalierly Claudia had spoken of wearing her belt for months on end and, once again, she could not help but be impressed. Part of her wondered if she could manage such a feat herself, while another part wondered if she might get the chance to try. A daunting, but exciting prospect that she still wasn’t certain she relished or feared. When this had started she honestly hadn’t known what to expect and over the course of the week it had actually surprised her just how often her thoughts were drawn to the bands of steel imprisoning her loins, its familiar pressure a constant companion. The belt itself wasn’t painful, not truly, and she had more or less gotten used to wearing it, mastering the surprising number of techniques it took to walk and sit and move normally in the thing even if wearing a steel thong was still awkward at times. Truth be told, there were actually moments when she had almost forgotten about it, a testament to how accustomed to the device’s presence on her body she had grown. But such moments never lasted long. Always, always she would suddenly shift in a chair or stand up too quickly or try and twist at the waist and the metal bands would either press into her skin or brush against her imprisoned sex in a way that was still surprisingly pleasant. At first such instances had been a shock, often accompanied by a hiss or a wide-eyed gasp of surprise but thankfully she was getting better at controlling her reactions. Honestly, in those first days that had been her biggest fear, that some awkward movement or involuntary reaction on her part might give the game away even if some part of her was secretly turned on by the idea. ...

Part 2 The problem, Brianna decided after weeks of thought and indecision was that something that made sense while half asleep often didn’t hold up to scrutiny in the morning. The dream, the hope, of being with her neighbors, of becoming their lover, their plaything… It was a wonderful dream, long cherished and long dismissed as impossible but then there was her discovery, the discovery that had changed everything. Even now she could easily summon up the images when she closed her eyes, the incredible sight of the two women she had wanted for so long engaging in a BDSM threesome with an unknown woman in heavy bondage. Just the thought of it made her knees weak and lit a fire in her very core. The sight may well have been the most arousing thing she had ever seen and each night she replayed it in her mind over and over, fingers deep within herself as she fantasized about being in that woman’s place, of being cruelly bound and gagged and used. Even just thinking about it now left her feeling a bit flushed and horny. Thankfully no one had noticed her little distracted daydreams, but the truth remained. And yet, for all that she hoped and dreamed and prayed that this discovery might mean she had a chance at making those fantasies, both old and new, come true Brianna still hesitated. Even if Sofia and Roxanna were in an open relationship, even if they were willing to indulge in a threesome on occasion (and the proof seemed fairly conclusive) what was she going to do? Knock on their door, mention she had been spying on their sex life and ask if there was room for one more? The very idea sounded ludicrous, even in her head. She wasn’t exactly a blushing virgin but Brianna’s romantic experience was still somewhat limited and while she couldn’t say for sure, she had a feeling that was a less than ideal method. ...

First Day Jitters “I am the instructor for this class. You will address me as Miss Cathy. Learn what I teach you, and you will be able to leave this place.” For emphasis she tapped the pointer on the floor. “Nice touch, but be sure you look around the room. Try to make eye contact with everyone.” Robert sat on the couch while Cathy rehearsed her first class, only two days away. “Remember, when you come in they’ll all be watching you. You’ll be an unknown quantity; they don’t know what to expect. Don’t rush; slow, confident and deliberate till you get to your spot at the head of the class. Make sure they wait for you. Don’t look down, and don’t look away from them. Keep telling yourself that you’re in charge. You can do whatever you want, so by definition you can’t make a mistake.” ...

I am by nature a very private person. I had kept my taste for bondage and pain to myself for my entire life until I met Cheryl, or as I call her now mistress. Now my tastes and my life are anything but private. With no one to live out my fantasies with me, I do my self bondage and self torture in my basement. I have it all stocked with everything I need to bind and torture myself. I have a dedicated computer that I only used for connecting with women online and that runs punishment programs. I spend a lot of time down in the basement. I’ve had several custom videos made where the mistresses would lead me in torturing myself, but never had I ever played with a woman in real life. I had tried several times to gather the courage to ask my assorted girlfriends and one nightstands to indulge me in my fantasies but I always chickened out at the last moment. ...

Chapter 1 - Attaching “Mmph!” Stupid suitcase. It was so full that it was hard to lift it on top of the bed. Back from a two-week trip in Brazil, I may have brought back a bit too many souvenirs. At least I had fun and got to do pretty much everything I had planned, including a lot of sex from the locals; traveling while single was awesome. I stripped naked and jumped in the shower to get rid of that layer of dry sweat that I had brought back with me. It was so good to finally be home and to enjoy MY shower that I had missed so much. It was not like the one at the hotel, and certainly not like the one in the jungle when I spent four days visiting ruins and shit. ...

Part 2: The Countess Alexis balanced the tray of pastries and mimosas carefully as she stepped out onto the pool deck. She wondered for the tenth time if she should have hired someone to serve for her. Too late now, she thought as she put the tray down before her two guests. Actually one guest and one simpering toady, she thought. The guest was Paige, the undisputed queen of the local social circle. Long black hair, a killer figure, and a designer outfit that made Alexis feel like her yellow sundress was a rag. The toady was Betty. Not quite fat, but heavy enough to highlight Paige’s perfect curves. She had short brunette curls and wore an off the rack pantsuit. Alexis felt comfortable ignoring her. ...

Part 17: Temporarily Back to Almost Normal …When the animated conversation fades off into silence I expect to be let back in, so I can at least find out what’s going on. With this in mind I hear the front door lock being actuated, but instead of being let back in, or even having some kind of explanation for my harsh treatment, I instead get a rough wool army type blanket tossed in my general direction at face level. It’s so dark out on that porch, and I’m at the same time so startled by this burst of back lighting that I don’t even see who tossed it at me. But I do hear the door being locked once again, the message clear; I’m sleeping on the porch tonight, chained up like a dog, a naughty and naked one… ...

Annabelle awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon. When she walked into the kitchen, Nicole was standing at the stove fixing breakfast. “Good morning, cowgirl,” Annabelle said cheerily. Nicole spun around in surprise. “I’m sorry, Mistress Ann,” she sputtered. “I’m not naked… but I’m only wearing this apron because of the bacon.” She took a deep breath and then said in almost a sob, “I tried, but the bacon spits and spatters and it burns.” ...

Hindsight Cathy leaned back in her seat, resigned to her fate. In hindsight it had been childish and stupid; she should know better. But she’d done it anyway, and now she must suffer the consequences. If she had only stopped to think, listened, made the effort to understand, none of this would have been necessary. As she sat there, under the guard’s watchful eye, she thought back to how it began. Was it really only a day ago? ...

Continues from chapter 26 27 Dear reader, I must apologize again. My writing has withered in both quantity and quality since my recent time away from the keyboard. The free flow of words has been supplanted by the pulling of proverbial teeth, every sentence a painful chore. Worse yet, I’m becoming tempted to spend one of my weekly three hour sessions of ‘freedom’ doing something else for a change, rather than trying to hack through the jungle of my mangled wordplay. A strange craving for french fries has beset me and I picture myself watching some mindless sitcom or comforting old movie whilst idly nibbling on the crispy, greasy fingers of umami. ...

Chapter 8 – The Honey Trap Nicola was at the clinic for her first consultation with Dr Nichols, Amy and Betsy had tagged along, Amy needed to attend for an overdue check-up anyway. Plus, she wanted to be there to support her friend. The three of them sat in a private lounge waiting for the Doctor. “Can I ask you two a personal question?" said Nicola to Amy and Betsy. ...

Chapter 7 – A Well-Deserved Break The next few weeks passed relatively quickly; Amy and Betsy had moved into Amy’s place and continued to grow ever closer. Betsy was amazed at Amy’s talent for drawing and encouraged her to do more. Amy however tried to explain it was a spur of the moment hobby, and she only did it when she had an idea about something or was thinking about people in her past. ...

Nicole arrived exactly on time at eight on Friday night… and she was already naked. Because she didn’t want to risk being late, she had left early, pulled into the small glen near the farm to strip off, and waited there until just before eight. She felt very vulnerable sitting naked in her car, but at the same time, it excited her. She really wanted to pleasure herself, but she was afraid that she would get too distracted and not leave for the barn in time. ...

I didn’t even plan for this session. Stars just aligned, I’ve got some spare time and a bag of bondage paraphernalia at ready, some particularly bawdy post on social media triggered my kink spring and next thing I knew I was riding my bicycle through the nearby woods imagining my upcoming adventure. Could have happened to anyone, right? No, of course not. It takes exposure to the right stimulus at the right age, the right amount of pressure from parents raised in more prudish times and maybe certain genetics underneath of all that to truly enjoy binding oneself in compromising positions in the middle of the woods. I do this quite often. ...

…The twenty dollar cab fare I had been left to use delivered me near enough to the address that I had been given just this day, the cab dropping me off two city blocks short of my final destination, after the driver asked me twice on the way if I was sure this was the right address. I told him it was (hoping I had memorized it correctly) and paid my fare with the bill I had stashed in my high heel, telling him he could keep the change. I wouldn’t need it where I was going, my manner of dress and lacking pocketbook likely telling him I was a purchased commodity, and his cab merely the most practical method of delivery this particular time. ...

Chapter 2 Brett was lying in bed very pleased with how things had gone. He had successfully kidnapped the woman of his dreams and her first evening of slavery had gone surprisingly well. She even thanked him for giving her incredible orgasms. It amazed him that such a repressed woman could be so quickly turned into a needy slave. She had begged him to do it again, but he was spent and had masturbated before he went down when she awoke so that he could keep himself under control. Three times in such a short time was a record. He wished he could have held out and then possibly been able to use her velvety folds a third time, they felt so much better than his hand. In the morning he would force her to give him a blow job. He was pretty sure she had never done that. He fell asleep, dreaming of pussylips as his well-trained slave. ...

Chapter 1 Dori was a twenty five year old administrative assistant at a mid-sized company. Her given name was Doris, after her grandmother but from a young age, she had insisted on Dori. Who names their child Doris in this day and age? Her name sounded like she was a seventy year old grandmother. Though not unattractive, Dori was not a popular girl, nor did she make herself up or wear clothes that drew attention to her womanly curves. Though her light brown hair was lovely, her well-formed hips and full C cup breasts were nearly hidden under her conservative clothing. Her soft curls framed a lovely face with pink lips and expressive brown eyes. Her makeup was understated and she always kept her head down and barely looked at anyone around her unless they were directly in her path or she was talking to them as required for her job. She was shy and didn’t go out of her way to talk to anyone, though she did have friends, they were few, and not part of the popular crowd. ...

Nicole carefully pulled her car around the back of the barn so it could not be seen from the road. She had spent months looking for a farm that was recently abandoned. The Owens’ farm was perfect for her purposes. It was over an hour’s drive from the city with no close neighbors. The Owens, an elderly couple, had died a few years ago. The house was empty, and so was the barn. ...

Chapter 2 - Inspiration, Perspiration I didn’t waste any time before starting the new project. The story had taken root in my imagination as no other before it, possibly given momentum by the close call with Paige. “Daniel and Pam,” I reminded myself as the ancient, non-networked, desktop reserved for kink writing booted. Unbidden, my fingers had already typed in the working title ‘Bondage Marathon’ and waited, hovering over the keyboard. ...

Chapter 3 (part 3): Charlotte is Cropped “Before we begin, there is one final question: what is your safe-word?” questioned Mistress Jaclyn. “Virgin,” Charlotte. “Appropriate,” observed Jaclyn. “Yes, Mistress, thank you,” Charlotte said, apprehension clearly in her voice. “Kiss the riding crop,” ordered Mistress Jaclyn. For Charlotte, this was now the moment of truth. Everything that had happened, or had not happened to her since she had decided to voluntarily wear a Chastity Belt had come down to this singular event. ...

Chapter 4 (part 2): Tammy in Chains Tammy did not understand the full impact of her decision until the following Saturday night, which was to be her first D/s session with her new Master, Craig. During the week, she had met twice with Craig after work. Once for a short dinner, the second time for coffee and cake. Tammy had called him to say that she was scared by the idea of becoming a submissive. Craig had reassured her that she was just getting a case of cold feet, and that once they did their first scene, she would feel differently. ...

Chapter 5 (part 2): Not A Hint of Scandal Dr. Allen and Nurse Alexandra were having a meeting in his office. “That idea never occurred to me,” said Dr. Allen, “that Victoria and Tammy would discuss her submission to Craig.” “Men aren’t the only ones who discuss sex,” observed Nurse Alexandra, “get a group of women together with no men around and the talk will be very honest and straightforward, with none of the lies that men tell about their exploits.” ...

Chapter 7: Through a Glass, Darkly Courtney and Charlotte had started their evening at a local restaurant with dinner, drinks, and finally dessert and coffee. They had avoided any serious discussion about their meeting, instead talking about clothes, movies and music. Once dessert had been consumed, Courtney said that they should now drive to her nearby condominium for more serious and private conversations. Courtney made a pot of coffee for the two of them, and placed a plate of cookies with it. They sat together on her living room couch. ...

Chapter 9 (part 1): Veronica in Submission Friday night had finally arrived, and for Veronica Blair it had not come a moment too soon. All week long, with rising anticipation she had looked forward to the night when Master Craig and her friend and fellow submissive Tammy would again place her in bondage and under the lash. If one of her staff had performed the way that she had all week, they would have been in for a Notice of Discipline. But it was Discipline that Veronica now craved. She had dreamed of The House of Discipline where a Master in leather mask had whipped her to a frenzy. Then she had begged her friend Tammy to let her Master, Craig place her in bondage and under the lash. ...

Chapter 3 (part 2): Compelled Into Bondage Charlotte had no way of knowing how much time had elapsed since Annette had taken her into Mistress Jaclyn’s Dungeon. She had given up wearing a watch long ago, dependent on her phone for the time. She would rise from the cot, and pace back in forth in the jail cell, her steps limited by her ankle chain. Twelve inches did not allow for a great deal of movement, but then again, she was now confined behind steel bars. Charlotte would try again and again to open the door, but naked flesh was no match for cold steel. ...

I didn’t intend to become Denise’s slave. I really didn’t. It was all sort of an accident. It even started out with an accident. No, that’s not exactly true. It wasn’t an accident that I posted a naked picture of Denise online. That was intentional, but it was sort of an accident that I took that picture in the first place. I live with five other girls and everyone is really casual about how they are dressed unless they are downstairs in the living room or kitchen. We live in a three story house just off campus that has three bedrooms on each of the top two floors. There is one shared bathroom on each floor. Downstairs there is a large double living room, a kitchen, and a dining room. It isn’t unusual for everyone to be wearing nothing but a P & B outfit upstairs, often less than that. ...

Chapter 6 (part 1) - The Sacrifice In the days after the departure of Boris and Arkady, suddenly Sir Ian took a new interest in Davinia. Previously, he had left most of her training to Lady Samantha. But now, with his two guests gone, Davinia became the center of his attentions. Davinia and Erin shared a jail cell in their slavery, and one morning, Erin was taken away by Lady Samantha. Her wrists had been locked behind her back, and a red ball-gag placed between her lips. Lastly, Lady Samantha had locked a leash to Erin’s collar, and her companion was led away to whatever fate awaited her! ...

Chapter 7 (part 1) - The Oil Minister Davinia’s next surprise came one morning when she was awaiting Sir Ian in the Day Room. Yvette had conducted her there and Davinia had put up no resistance as her hands were locked behind her back and a red ball-gag placed between her lips. In the last few days, Davinia had noticed a marked change in her owner. He seemed to be spending more time away from both Davinia and Erin, and she wondered why. ...

Chapter 5 (part 1) - Lady Samantha and the Lash Davinia knelt naked in front of Lady Samantha in the Dayroom; her hands held behind her back, but unlocked. As a slave, that was the position she had learned to assume in front of her Master and Owner. In the months that Davinia had been taken prisoner by Sir Ian her will to resist had been broken, and she had changed into a submissive sex slave, eager to obey all commands given to her! ...

Chapter 5 (part 2) - Signing Bonus Davinia had been to many business meetings in her years as an environmental activist. First had been the staff and fundraising meetings of her own and other groups; then the protests they had staged at shareholder meetings of the oil companies they were protesting against. Usually, Davinia was outside protesting; but sometimes they were able to sneak in and unfurl a banner, or display small foldable signs, or blast air horns until they were removed by Security. ...

Chapter 6 (part 2) - Davinia’s Reward After the sense of exhilaration that Davinia had felt after her use of Erin in the Day Room, the hours afterward seemed like a bit of a letdown. Both Yvette and Lady Samantha had to work together to let Erin out of her suspension and chains. She was drenched in sweat, and her naked body was scored by numerous welts from the whip and the other instruments of torment that Davinia had used on her without mercy. ...

Part 16: Consequences …Gregory returned me to the summerhouse sore and exhausted, but wonderfully sated as well at some point early in the morning, the untying part of any bondage always seeming anti-climatic to me though, and perhaps the only low point of the night for us. It was also a personal low point for me because it meant that he had to return me to the girls, and a small part of me wanted to stay with him, like forever. Had I been capable of deeper thoughts that night in my satisfied exhaustion, I might have seen this as a version of “puppy love,” ironic if one thought about it… ...

Chapter 3 (part 2) - A Harsh Mistress Indeed The bright sunlight streamed into the Dayroom as Davinia knelt naked in front of Lady Samantha, who was seated on her wooden throne. Davinia was collared and wearing her bondage bracelets as usual. Lady Samantha was wearing a black latex dress that hugged her feminine figure perfectly! “Well, Davinia, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time. Ever since I saw you on TV leading that protest march I knew that one day you’d wear Sir Ian’s collar; and I was right!” ...

Chapter 3 (part 3) - A Close Shave The next morning, Davinia was awakened by Yvette, who conducted her for a morning bath. Davinia was bathed and her hair washed, and her underarms and legs were shaved. But what happened next would change her forever! Davinia stood up in the bathroom after her legs were done, only to have Yvette look sternly at her. “Not finished, Mademoiselle! Lady Samantha has ordered me to shave ze pussy!” ...

Chapter 4 (part 2) - Davinia in the Dungeon Bound and helpless, Davinia had no alternative but to walk behind Erin when she felt a tug on her collar chain. Blindfolded, she could not see where she was being led to, and gagged, she had no means of communication with Erin as well! She tested the steel holding her wrists together, and as usual, found them to be unyielding! Naked female flesh was no match for leather and steel! ...

Chapter 2 - Erin’s Submission “I Think The Devil Will Not Have [You] Damned, Lest The Oil That’s In [You] Should Set Hell On Fire” William Shakespeare When Davinia finally awoke the next day, she wasn’t sure where she was. After the pain and pleasure of the previous day, she had finally fallen into a fitful dream filled sleep where she had relived the day’s events. Opening her eyes, she imagined that the entire ordeal had been a horrible dream, and that she was going to awaken back in her London flat. ...

Chapter 3 (part 1): Lady Samantha and the Crop Davinia had been chained to the wall, with her hands locked behind her back, naked, as she watched as her companion, Erin, had been beaten and violated. She had seen Erin cropped and caned, and her mouth and bottom used by Lady Samantha and Sir Ian. Davinia could not believe how Erin had so willingly been punished; how she had let her body be used and violated. ...

Part Seven: Prisoner of the Xlant …Rok the teenage Begorian started setting out metallic pieces on the bench where I was both laying, and nearly cooking. He pulled what looked like scrap metal left over from some repair project from under the bench, as if this magnificent body of mine didn’t deserve “fresh and new” materials for whatever he had in mind. That was selfish and impractical of me though, because little of what was on the Xlant actually looked new at all. In other words, this ship was OLD, and the fact that it wasn’t presently under tow was a testament to the men that somehow kept it running. ...

Early Morning She was awake long before the alarm clock went off. How had he found her at the cabin? That thought kept going through her head. No one had known where she was going, no way could anyone have followed her up the mountain road without her noticing, yet there he had been the next morning. Automatically she stretched out her arms to relieve some of the tension in her shoulders. At least she could be certain it was no dream this time. That last session on the cabin floor, trussed up in a painful hogtie with her arms behind her back, had been no fantasy. ...

Part 1 It’s the year 2520 and our planet and the way it’s treated by the human race have completely changed in the last five hundred years. There are no longer wars between nations because it is females only who run the planet. More than four hundred years ago, with constant warring taking place simply depleting and wasting our planet’s valuable resources, a momentous decision had to be made. The Earth and mankind was on the brink of destruction due to the very way mankind had behaved and treated it. ...

Morning After Sunday night found her still staring first at the mark on her leg, then to the telephone, to the front door, and back to the faint red streak. It could have been a dream, except for that one tiny abrasion. Had it all been real? How else could she explain the outline of the leather strap? It had been so tangible: the smell of the leather, the sound of his voice, even the aches in her muscles from being tightly bound. ...

Looking Out The moment she opened her eyes she knew something was very wrong. A single bulb above her provided the only illumination in the room. Beyond the pool of light centered on her the room faded into an all concealing darkness. Dazzled by the glare of the spotlight shining overhead she couldn’t even make out the walls. Her arms were bound behind her back. Something was wrapped around her hands and forearms, holding them tightly to her waist. From the touch of her fingers it felt like roughly finished leather. A quick jerk proved her wrists were secured by wide leather straps of the same material. ...

Thursday nights I reserve for something special. It’s always for the two of us, with the express goal to bring us closer together. Marriage can wear out if you aren’t careful. It has to be kept alive, nurtured, and it takes attention and effort. That’s my job, to be proactive and take the initiative. From the beginning we agreed on certain roles in our relationship, privileges for each of us balanced by individual responsibilities. I got the short straw, the one where you win the dominant role. Not that I mind, in fact I wouldn’t have it any other way, and neither would she. ...

Techie’s part After my hours locked in a one-bar-prison, my friend Jenine - who is a blacksmith specializing in dungeon gear and bondage devices - decided one afternoon that there should be a similar device for men. It only took a few hours of sketching, then cutting, heating, bending and drilling holes for locks. Made from several bars of ¼ inch thick steel bars, a 3 foot by 3 foot square of ⅜ inch steel, and 1 inch steel tubing with a piece of ¾ inch steel rod that slid into its centre. Two hours of construction later, our fiendish instrument of torture was complete. ...

(story continues from Indecent Proposal 5) Part Six …With both motivation from who knows where, and no real good other choices that preserved my “husband’s” confidence, I felt myself doing as he commanded. I playfully stripped off my towel and tossed it at him. It almost felt as if I were in a trance, but there was a familiar comfort in being ordered about like this, and I had of course asked him to man up a little. This little show of mine was powerful, and empowering, I felt like the entire room could burst into flames at that very second and Jack wouldn’t even blink, nor look away from me. It was of course one thing to tease him, like I had flauntingly done in my bikini the day before, but quite another to actually strip naked for him in broad daylight. ...

Hi, I’m Erin, I’ve always been a little taller than most other girls, by the time I was fourteen I was as tall as I am now, standing five foot eight inches. I was terribly thin back then and everyone made fun of the tall skinny girl with jet black hair and pale as snow skin with the haunting green eyes. I’m still self-conscious about my height around other women, but most guys are taller than me, and I don’t often wear heels because it makes me that much taller and then some guys are intimidated by that. I didn’t date much in high school, I was still really lanky with not much meat on my bones and most guys just weren’t that attracted to me. I think my face is pretty, and my emerald green eyes catch men’s glances, but I only dated a few guys and one seriously, he was a nerd, but he treated me like a queen. Unfortunately, he was only an inch taller than me and if I wore anything other than flats I looked a little taller and he hated that. He tried wearing lifts in his shoes but they were uncomfortable. ...

Part 2 Alexis stepped from the shower dripping wet. She had just grabbed her towel when she saw the man standing in her bathroom. With a gasp she clutched the towel to her naked body. “Who the hell are you?!” she cried. “I’m Ed, the cable guy, Ma’am,” he said quietly, “nobody answered the door so I let myself in.” Alexis eyed him warily. Work boots, faded denim jeans and a tool belt told her he was what he said he was. “Well,” she said in annoyance, “the TV is in the living room. So if you’ll excuse me I need to get dressed.” ...

Event 2: The Carousel Slave puta ran ahead of us to the Carousel. When we got there, Master went up to Herr Dunkler and handed him an envelope. The Dark Lord– that’s what Dunklermeister, his full name, means– The Dark Lord held it in his hand for a moment and then said with a smile. “I know that you aren’t planning on buying any of my major offerings this year. Why don’t I allow your slave to ride on the Carousel and the Ferris Wheel for free this year and we will call it even?” ...

Event 1: The Dolphin Rides Welcome to my blog. I asked Master if I could have a blog. He told me that I was just an exhibitionist slut who wanted the whole world to see my ass. I told him that was true, but what I wanted for a blog was more like a diary for all the world to see. So, he said I could create a blog. Master wants me to post everything interesting that goes on in my life but with the following rules: One, he is the moderator for my blog and has to approve everything I post; two, I can’t post pictures… ever; three, I can’t say his name, I can only call him Master; and four, I have to be totally honest about what I see and think and feel. ...

Love “Mmm… It’s been nine hours… I… I have to let her out… She is going to be exhausted again. Hehe.” April had lost control again. After placing Tracy in the isolation box for just one hour, she couldn’t help herself and left her in it for an additional eight hours. She walked to the box and quietly opened the door. As expected, Tracy had curled into a ball on the cushioned rubber floor and was either profoundly asleep or in a trance; it was hard to tell with her full leather hood on. Tracy looked amazing with her shiny black latex-covered body and with one of her hands resting on her crotch well protected by a chastity belt. ...

Sensual Robert In the far future Earth has been at work with the Insectoids, an alien race that lives in the Gamma Ceti star system 10 light years away. The space war has cost 100 million lives and the Earth alliance is on the brink of disaster. Earth and its citizens may have to surrender to the Insectoids, ending mankind’s freedom and the beginning of our enslavement. A last minute negotiation has ended the war and a truce between Earth and the Insectoids was ratified. The last remaining details must be completed on the Insectoid home world followed by a celebration and special feast. ...

Part Two Slave slut continued to thrash and scream every time a crab ran across her body. If she had not been self-gagging by holding her mouth tightly closed, the beach patrol, anyone on the beach, and probably the Coast Guard would already be here. I called out to her, “slut! Get control of yourself.” “But there are bugs running all over me,” she whined back. “They aren’t bugs,” I replied. “They’re crabs. And the only danger is if they get near your mouth or nose, which they won’t do to you because you can hold your head up.” ...

Over the years Techster and I have played some adventurous XXX rated adult games. Usually I was the one in control and Techster was my submissive; but this time I would be the submissive locked up in an inescapable device that would leave me naked, helpless and on display. It all started when Techster got a call from Domina Bonita asking him if he had ever made a female restraint device called a “one bar prison”. He replied that he had not so Domina Bonita sent him a video of a woman who was locked in one. ...

Part One The Bunker has always been my own little private place of perversion. It is technically located on an island in a federal park– actually a gulf shore island preserve– but I live nearby and always buy a season pass so I can come out to the beach as often as I want. Up on the north end of the island, near the entrance to the park, there is this great public beach, which is where most people go. It’s pretty crowded there most days, but if you wander about four miles down to where the bunker is, the beach is pretty deserted. ...

The Bargain It was a beautiful spring day, but Sandra wasn’t enjoying it. It had all started off so well. One of her fellow convicts had managed to get her the last part she needed to short circuit the cellblock door. The guards had been lax, and she was able to sneak out of the prison with surprising ease. Only when she got outside, she found that the car her confederates were supposed to leave for her wasn’t there. The prison complex was in the middle of nowhere, so she had to run for it on foot through the woods. Her orange prison jumpsuit stood out in the greenery like a sore thumb. Sandra could hear dogs in the distance, and she wasn’t optimistic about outrunning them for much longer. ...

“Well ladies, this is what you’ve been waiting for,” said Mistress Lois. My Domme’s expert fingers undid the roller buckle at the back of my leather blindfold, and I blinked in response when the light hit my eyes. Focusing, I could see a woman dressed as a Maid (in a black rubber outfit) standing holding a teapot; and my Mistress’s three guests, seated in the living room. They were all wearing brightly colored designer dresses. ...

Part 6 Back to the present… I realized now why Lois had shown me off to her friend, Colleen. She had wanted to see if I would acknowledge my slavery to her in front of another Domme, and if I would allow myself to be used by her. Colleen had proven to be a tough and demanding Domme, and I had to summon all of my resolve in order to perform properly for her and not to embarrass Mistress Lois. ...

Part 4 “Honey, what’s going on?” asked my husband, home from one of his business trips. “What do you mean, sweetie?” “Why are you working at K-Mart?” “Because I’m tired of sitting home on my ass doing nothing. The maid can come in two days a week to clean – there really isn’t enough work for her to do all week, and the gardener works outside. I was bored silly, so I went back to work!” ...

Part 2 I sat in the lobby of the Uniondale Marriott not knowing what to expect. I had made a room reservation the day before, and now I sat alone, waiting for Mistress Lois to arrive. Would she come? Or would I get stood up as part of some test that she was performing on me? Why had she told me to reserve a hotel room? I knew that she owned a house, and I certainly had one as well. So what did we need a hotel room for? If we were going to have a romantic tryst somewhere, surely there were better places to do so than a crowded Long Island hotel? ...

Part 2 …“We’re agreed on this ’little incident’?” the older man asked his younger counterpart as I listened in, my fate apparently sealed. “Yup, it never happened. Let me chip her with one of the unassigned ones so we can keep track of her movements, while you write out the tag… You sure nobody can trace that thing back to us?” “Absolutely. The brass tags are generic, as is the mounting stud, farmers and ranchers have been using them on their own animals for decades. It’s the game commission’s printing machine with it’s stamped serial number and specific font - that I’m obviously not using - that makes this identifiable to us. It would of course be safer to not tag her at all, but where’s the fun in that?” ...

19. Concussion, Coma, a New Slave and Twins? A few days later Ben had taken them all shopping for a new car for James. He couldn’t keep driving that old wreck, it was about to die any day. They got to the lot and Ben went to look at the new trucks, thinking he might buy a new one. He could still use the old one he had customized for off-roading. As he was looking, Chloe had wandered ahead of him and suddenly gave a squeal of delight, standing by a brand new black truck with red trim. ...

18. Kira’s tribulations Ben woke with a foreboding feeling, something seemed off and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Chloe was still blissfully asleep next to him, chained to the bed but he had this uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He got up and checked the other bedroom where James was still happily snoring away. He came back into his room and turned on the closed circuit TV to see Kira standing near the end of the chain’s length screaming and crying. Chloe awakened at this and looked at the monitor. ...

Introduction: About me Sharing some background about me, my desires, needs and motivation. First, English is not my first language, so this text may lack some variation and nuancing natural to a native speaker, and probably also contains some directly translated expressions that may sound funny. I have tried to check that spelling and grammar is OK, so it should be intelligible, but those looking for the next great English novel should probably look elsewhere. ...

Heading into the darkness as midnight approached, Alice Tunrida slipped a photograph, a piece of paper and a handwritten map of a cemetery into her white rabbit purse. It was Halloween, the night every year that Rolf Pfluger’s death metal band played in her hometown of Detroit. The taxi driver resembled a cartoon character, his head swiveling wildly, as he spotted Alice waiting on the sidewalk outside her apartment. Alice rarely wore a costume on All Hallow’s Eve and never had worn a sexy one until now. ...

…It was a foolish ordeal, but one that the newly discovered exhibitionist in me couldn’t refuse for more than one reason, my girlfriend Sam’s presence there to ensure I did the deed in its entirety should I suddenly lose my nerve and then beg for some easy out. There was but one day of the year that one could get away with such a costume in public, Halloween in our part of the country chilly, but the farm girl in me was used to the outdoors and the temperature swings of fall. ...

Kong’s Dong Jessica Monique Lace, a young and beautiful blonde, who happens to be the world’s leading explorer/adventurer. Throughout the 1920s and the early 1930s, Jessica has ventured into different parts of the world and had many exciting stimulating adventures. She is known for her legendary adventures, including the time she was an Egyptian mummy inside a pyramid, forced to walk a plank with her hands tied behind her back only wearing her silk cream lacy tap panties and camisole and the time she was nearly sold into a harem to be the sheik’s sex slave. ...

Continues from chapter four Chapter Five Countess Alexandra Gladstone saw the shadow seconds before the white, bony hand gripped her face. The handkerchief was soaked with chloroform. Her next memory was of a tall, thin man with an abundant nose, locking her into a cage atop a wagon. Her kidnapper drove a Landau carriage; the wagon had metal bars to prevent escape. Alexandra’s screams for help were rendered silent by a steel spider gag, the ring inside her mouth attached to a wide black leather strap around her head. ...

He was furious with me, but I had it coming. “I screwed up so bad, Mitch! I’ll never drink at a party again. I’ll never go to a party without you either. I screwed up really bad and I just want to make it up to you and make it go away!” I was deeply, helplessly in love with him. Maybe too deep for my own good. Marcie had certainly told me that every chance she got. And it was I that had screwed up. Enormously. We both knew it. I couldn’t undo it. I was never going to put myself in that sort of situation again, EVER. I just had to find a way for us to get past it. Anything. Anything he wanted. Anything at all. ...

Lori giggled inside. What a wonderful idea! She and her best friend (and roommate for the weekend) Sandy were here in the hills in a huge hot tub all alone with four really cute guys all in their early 20s just like Sandy and herself. One of them was Chuck, Sandy’s boyfriend. Everyone in the hot tub was at least pleasantly drunk. They were up on a weekend leadership retreat, hanging out after classes Saturday evening. They had free time to socialize and network so a group of them had chosen to enjoy the hot tub. As the night wore on people had petered out from the pool area and the ranch house until there looked to be one or two, maybe three older people in the house visible though the huge windows in the dining area there and the six of them still out in the hot tub. The air was crisp but not really that cold yet; it wouldn’t get that cold this time of year. The beer was flowing freely and everyone was taking advantage of it. The light in the hot tub was on but the water was rolling to the point nothing could be seen under the surface of the water, but the light below provided enough light to see the faces of everyone in the hot tub. The rest of the pool area was dark so all those stars could be seen. ...

Part 4 It was nearly 11:00 and Anna was anxious to prove herself in the lake, so we headed outside, me in my boots and winter coat and Anna wearing absolutely nothing. I led the way to the top of the hill heading onto the lake and Anna followed in my footprints. I lined up the toboggan on the hill and invited her to sit in front. She sat down as easily as she would have if she were wearing a full snowsuit. I climbed on behind her and pushed us off down the hill. The snow was quite deep so we did not move very fast until we reached the final descent that was a lot steeper. Anna screamed as we picked up speed. She had to deal with the relative wind we felt and the snow blowing up on her. We came to a rather abrupt stop when the steep hill ran into the lake and Anna ended up sitting in snow almost up to her breasts. I helped her up and we trudged the last 15 feet over to the large hole in the ice. ...

Desert Run It’s really not wise of me to say exactly how and where I came up with this device, let me say it was a tool of the cold war and it wasn’t ours. The code word for the project was “Nightshot.” I, as a military pharmaceutical analysis contractor was assigned to analyze it, apparently seized from the Russians but even I am not 100% sure. Mechanically the device was pretty simple. it was basically a high-pressure immunization injector, with a few modifications to make it damn near noiseless. The chemical was an enzyme held in a delivery chemical base. The enzyme was like nothing I’ve ever seen and nothing I could find in bio-chemical literature, and it was clearly brilliant. The chemical neutralized the enzyme that controlled the critical thinking portion of a person’s brain. In short, if you got shot with this, for the next five to ten minutes you became completely suggestible and anything said to you while under that influence would be completely accepted as truth. The Russians had perfected a mind control drug! ...

CHAPTER TWO - A Mistress on Trial By the time Doc got back from the restroom, the center of the ballroom had been cleared and set up again. This time, there was a big table sitting near David. Further out were two smaller tables with chairs behind them. To one side were a dozen chairs similar to desks used in schools. The writing surface was folded down on most of the chairs, but as people filed in and sat down, they raised the surface up and set small notebooks on them. ...

Part 3: The Set Up With her sister slave May works on her party plans for her Duke’s pleasure Brigit had brought three chattel slaves with her when she came over to help May get the party set up. With cleaning and leather treatment supplies she had them take out all the whips, canes, paddles, crops, quirts, cuffs, and straps and perform regular maintenance. Brigit also had one of them wash all the ropes in the washing machine, dry them in the drier and then spend the time to unravel the Gordian knot they made coming out of the dryer. ...

Chapter 8 - An Ocean of Pets It was the middle of the night, and I couldn’t sleep. She was so warm. Her silky skin pressing against mine was something I had never experienced before. She was so peaceful that I was even wondering if she was still breathing. Her mouth was so close to my neck, and she even drooled on me a little. Never in a thousand years, I could have expected this… Going back home with a pet girl who was not hiding her true self within the confine of a cute animal costume. Trixie, the white rabbit, was my friend. But… Who was she to me as a human girl? ...

13. Kidnapped Chloe was struggling against the two hooded men wearing cloth over their faces as Ben walked down the hall. They had entered the bedroom and surprised Chloe as she lay there, already bound helplessly. The men crept in as Chloe rested, nearly dozing off after her multiple orgasms. The two things that kept her awake was her need to drink and replenish her fluids and use the toilet before bedtime. Chloe tried to warn Ben but the larger man grabbed her and clamped his large hand over her mouth, preventing her from crying out around her gag. Unaware, Ben plodded down the hall and the other man hit him over the head with something as he entered the room and he went down in a heap. ...

Art Project “Please Danni? I really need your help. My college art project on Egyptian Mummies is due in like 4 days. All I need is a body to wrap really quick. All you have to do is to stand for a few minutes, and then lie there for a few, and then that is it. I wrap you up, draw a few hieroglyphics on the wrappings, take some photos, and then I cut you out.” ...

Part 15: The New Deal Dana called her parents while Gregory waited with us, and after a lengthy back and forth she got their permission for us to use their summerhouse as an off campus dorm to attend the local and much less expensive Cromwell University together. There would be conditions, but they would be announced later, the matter left open ended and really pissing Dana off, especially since her brother Peter’s name had come up. She liked being in charge of things, this having somebody else, even if it was her parents, making rules for her, and by extension, us, was irritating for her. ...

Stacie thought it was turning out to be another average Friday night for the two of them, her boyfriend Jeff and herself. They were watching an old series they both liked on TV in his dorm’s deserted (on a Friday night) common room. They’d watch some TV, drink imported beer until the shows were over and they both were pretty well buzzed, then retire to his room and screw each other’s brains out before they both rolled over and went to sleep. ...

You hand in the stack of forms to the young secretary behind the desk. It took 10 minutes to fill out the information sheets on the top. They sure wanted to know a lot about me, you think. You spent a few minutes glancing over the many pages of dense legal language then hastily write your signature on the bottom right of each page. Probably just a formality to maintain their official status as an asylum. ...

Part 5 - Earlier days Sheila from time to time would open up about her past. She had told me about her and Skip, her boyfriend when she was an older teenager and the one who had widened her bondage horizons immensely. She was sixteen, still a junior in high school, he was a senior there, a year older than her, and he was the kinkiest person she could ever dream of meeting at that point in her life. He was her first real love and she would, like most girls with their first love, do anything he wanted, no matter how extreme. Well, they did some really extreme things, which pretty much set the tone for the rest of her life so far. ...

Part Two With little choice I left Ken’s side to check on my future husband, knowing this was something I had to do myself. Ken was nearly asleep anyway with all the energy he had expended, and truth be told I would rather have been sleeping myself - or for that matter doing almost anything else - rather than inviting this looming conflict that surely must be coming. I also had a mess to contend with, not to mention the lingering taste of Ken in my mouth, but my bound boyfriend had to come first. ...

Part 2 - The Dinner Date We settled in for a nice Italian dinner. It could easily turn out to be more that Sheila had bargained for. I thought back to how Sheila and I had gotten here. We were both college students, her a Psych major, me in CIS. She had this body that men jack off over when they weren’t drooling and she got off on making them drool now and most likely run home to do the other. She was about 5-10, and had long straight blonde hair that ran down to her waist. She kept all of the unneeded fat off of her bones, except for her 40D bust which was quite up and firm at 20. She loved to wear short skirts and outfits that showed off her large chest and long tan legs. ...

Continues from part four Part 5 Gina walked into Calc class, finding herself holding her breath. She knew what she wanted to happen. Scott would be there. She fingered the collar locked around her neck. That this was going to be interesting didn’t even begin to cover it. She and Scott had been involved in a torrid, horribly kinky relationship for about a year. He was her first real serious long-term love and there had been times she had thought it might go on until the end. Back then she had been ashamed, worried about her body. Not that, when she was honest, she had any grounds for that. But she wouldn’t go outside their houses in anything too terribly revealing, such as short skirts or minis or low-cut tops. She was happy to do and wear pretty much anything Scott wanted at one of their homes but it ended at the door. Indoors. They had an incredible sex life back then and a good friendship and had done lots of things to stretch each other’s boundaries. ...

I guess that you could say I get my just desserts. My husband Jerry is pretty fair about it. He understands that every once in a while I’m going to sleep around on him. He tells me, “It’s the price he pays for being married to a sexy blonde nymphomaniac.” I don’t think I’m a nympho, I just like sex and every once in a great while someone other than my husband catches my fancy and starts my juices flowing and I go get him. Ok - I’m weak in that area. But I keep Jerry, my husband, quite satisfied too. Maybe sometimes it’s the thought of what he’ll do to me when he finds out that makes me want to sleep around too. I get the choice of accepting a divorce or a punishment. He can be pretty imaginative when it comes to dreaming up punishments and they can be pretty wild. And if you couldn’t tell by now, I really like wild. ...

Part 3 With the snowmobile coming down onto the lake, Anna panicked and tried to run off the lake. She did not want anybody to see her naked, but she had no place to go. As the snowmobile came out onto the lake I saw Anna literally dive into the snow and vanished from my sight. The snowmobiler slowed down when he saw me and stopped beside me for a quick chat. ...

Dorothy Williams looked slowly around her dining room table before solemnly saying, “I call this special meeting of the Executive Club Steering Board to order.” She then slammed her gavel sharply against the pad which protected the surface of the walnut table. Because of the secrecy of the meeting, her slave, trixie, was safely tucked away in her bedroom in firm isolation bondage. A blindfold covered her eyes. Her ears were blocked with soft wax. To further ensure that she could see or hear nothing, her head was covered with a slave hood with the ear and eye holes firmly zippered shut. And to prevent her from removing any of that, she was face down on the floor with her arms and legs hogtied behind her back. ...

Continues from chapter ten (part 1) Chapter 10 - The Cookie of Love (Part 2) Click! “There you go.” “Meow!” We were ready to go back to Erika’s home for a longer stay. I made my two girls wear their latex catsuit, just because I liked it. Kitty, of course, didn’t argue one bit, but Erika was not as cooperative. It allowed me to give her a good spanking to make her more docile. For good measure, I locked them in their suit using small padlocks. They were now both kneeling on top of the bed, looking as cute as ever. ...

Continues from chapter nine Chapter 10 - The Cookie of Love (Part 1) “Aaaanh! Aaannnh! Mark! Aannh!” It was one of those mornings when I just really wanted to fuck Kitty’s brain out. Actually, for the past two days, we have been at it non-stop. Erika and Syr were not around, so I got my small pink latex catgirl for me alone. “Aaaannh!” Since my birthday, my love for Kitty reached new highs, and I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Having her hogtied on the bed allowed me to take her from behind, and there was nothing she could do to stop me. That said, her moans were proof enough that she didn’t want to do such a thing. ...

Part 2 I went into my place, found a chilled bottle of white wine and put it into its own thermal bag. I dug out a few other things that we might need and tucked them all into a backpack. I looked out the back window and it looked like Anna was busy putting together a picnic. Good for her, I thought. It looked like she was at least preparing to go out. ...

Continues from part six First Night of Slavery Chloe dressed and followed Ben up to her apartment, then she unlocked the door and they went inside. Ben quickly grabbed Chloe and forced her against the wall, kissing her even more passionately than he had in the elevator. They kissed for several minutes before they finally came up for air. “Oh god, Master, no one’s ever kissed me like that before!” Chloe exclaimed. “Of course, no one has ever owned me before either, I love you Master,” Chloe added. ...

It began one evening while she was taking a shower. Anna lives behind my house and her bath is right under the bathroom window. Anna is in her mid twenties and worked in town. I often saw her on the train in the morning when we would exchange pleasantries. On this hot July evening Anna had the window in her bathroom opened and she had not drawn the bathroom curtains back across the window. ...

Donna is a young, tall, beautiful blonde who has been very successful in her career. However, she has gotten to the top by using and betraying other people, but without having to sleep her way to the top. There are many people within the company who hate and despise her for how she has treated them, for how she has even stolen other coworkers ideas and passed them off as her own. She has been caught trying to embezzle money from her own department. ...

The Beginning: Donna Reynold’s nineteenth birthday had just passed. I-Day was less than a month away. She was rapidly approaching the most important day of her life. I-Day was exactly one year from the date of her graduation. She had to make her decision by then. I-Day was the deadline for her to decide whether or not she would be implanted. It was quite an accomplishment for Donna when she graduated from her Third Level schooling. Only one third of the students made it that far. She remembered the culling when she finished First Level. At the end of First Level, the lowest one third of the students were selected as Drudges. Her parents had used the culling as a threat to make her study when she would rather be playing outside. “You have to study,” they would say, “or you will end up a Drudge.” ...

This past Monday two of our new friends – Michele, the “wife” who is an intersex woman of mixed race and Clyde, her husband, who is a professional conditioning trainer at a local gym and a “normal” male – invited Techster and I to be their “drivers” at the annual pony-play festival at the Hupony Farm located about 100 miles away from our home in the foothills. We had told them that I myself had been a pony for Techster. I won a few races and the dressage contest; we had a good time. ...

“So, let me get this straight?” I asked the teenager that would one day become my husband, notably while giving him a hand job in the backseat of his own car. It was my time of the month and I wasn’t feeling the least bit sexy, but he begged me, telling me he needed to cum with his great big puppy dog eyes pleading his case for him. “No” was always an option for me though, and I had said so often enough during our time together, but this time I was feeling charitable. I suppose it could have been worse, he could have snuck off someplace to do the deed solo. While that would have been less work for me, I would have wondered what, or who he was fantasizing about while doing so. ...

Continues from part one –> Part 2 It was a long, silent three weeks and things were rough with Scott. With no communication from Carlos she was easing into the conviction that Carlos wasn’t going to call and it was just a very fun weekend fling. Midweek of the third week she almost squealed when she found she had a text from Carlos. He had been up and down the entire time: He had really enjoyed the weekend with her but was wary of how Maria finding out would affect his relationship with Samuel. But Gina had been on his mind almost constantly and just the memory of that weekend had helped him past a few rough spots. Maria had announced she was going on another visit “to her mother” this weekend. He had to see Gina again even if it was only for a meal at a restaurant somewhere. Was she free? ...

I came to my senses with a start and quickly analyzed my surroundings. It was daylight and seemed like midday. Quiet, distant sounds of nature reached my ears. It was pleasantly warm with a gentle wind blowing across… my naked body? I was in a meadow surrounded by tall oak-type trees laying on the grass. Buck naked. What the hell? Actually that wasn’t completely true. I had some sort of metal anklet on my right ankle. It was just bent and closed around my ankle; if I had some metalworking tools I could take it off. I shook my leg, it didn’t feel too heavy, but my leg didn’t feel as heavy as it normally did either. Weird. ...

Continues from chapter three Chapter 4 – Captivity and Slave Training: Day 2 Tawny slowly awakened the next morning feeling very tired and somewhat stiff and sore. Another feeling was one of contentment and satisfaction, like a job well done. She noticed that just like yesterday morning, she was not tied or chained in any way and was free to move about the cell. She quickly folded up the cot and began getting the slave ready for the daily training she was sure would follow shortly. She looked at herself in the mirror and noticed the heavy makeup. Stepping into the shower she grabbed the washcloth there and tried to wash off the makeup using water from the sink. The makeup did not seem to be coming off. She added some shower gel thinking the soap might cut through the grease of the makeup and help it come off, but this was to no avail as well. As the panic rose through her body and her eyes stared widely at the slave in the mirror, the voice came through the speaker: “Slave, the makeup you used contains a staining agent that causes the color to remain on your skin for several days, it will not wash off. Now, get in the shower and cleanse yourself for today’s slave training activities.” Tawny just stood there staring. “Get moving slave!” barked the voice through the speaker she recognized as black pants voice. ...

Continues from chapter two Chapter 3 – Slave Training Tawny awakened to find herself completely unfettered. This surprised her, but she was still locked in the small cell. It had three concrete walls with bars across the front. It had just enough room for the cot she had slept on, the toilet, a sink and a shower with a clear glass door. She supposed the glass door was functional to keep the water in, but still be able to keep an eye on her. There was no one around so she used the toilet and as she finished washing her hands she heard a voice through a speaker say, “Good morning, slave.” ...

Continues from part four Part Five Tina got a call one afternoon from Shack. It wasn’t super unusual but it was still a little odd: they normally talked after he had stopped for the night. She worried for a second until Shack quickly assured her everything was fine with him. He was in Ohio and on track and on time. But John and Carla had called him asking for her phone number or email. They had gotten an audit letter from the IRS and Monday after next they wer going to go over Shrewsbury’s books. Carla and Julie could keep the fires out and manage the books but they weren’t up to this. John and Carla were wondering about her availability and if she had ever gone through any of these before. They could get someone local but Tina already knew part of their system and they’d prefer her. They just needed to know if she was available and what her rates were. ...

Dave Roberts fingered the dozen roses on the car seat next to him when traffic came to a stop on Northern Blvd. He had gotten off work early in New York City, and had decided to come home early as a surprise to his wife. They shared a home together in the wealthy section of Roslyn, and on the way he pulled over and bought a dozen red roses as a gift.Dave Roberts fingered the dozen roses on the car seat next to him when traffic came to a stop on Northern Blvd. He had gotten off work early in New York City, and had decided to come home early as a surprise to his wife. They shared a home together in the wealthy section of Roslyn, and on the way he pulled over and bought a dozen red roses as a gift. ...

Gail Bell sat in her cubicle, eyes focused on the computer screen in front of her, her fingers furiously typing out a program on the keyboard. One line of code after another appeared on the screen, she hoped that she would be able to do a test run before the end of the day. Or else she could simply log on from home and finish the program and do a test tonight; or come in on Saturday to finish it. After all, in the IT field you can work any eighty hours you want! ...

…It was the craziest dream I had ever had, but I had been taking melatonin lately for my sleep, and it had given me some strange ones… This first part wasn’t part of any dream, this part really happened, I struggled myself with what was real, and what wasn’t. I challenge the reader to determine for themselves where the reality ends, and my crazy dream then does. We had been having some problems lately with what they commonly call “nuisance bears,” these being black bears anywhere from the size of a large dog, to eight hundred plus pounds of hungry, destructive omnivore. These were the least dangerous kinds of bears indigenous to our country, and the only ones to roam my particular part of it. Still, these animals could be dangerous, if provoked, not to mention destroying bird feeders and scattering garbage pails and their contents to hell and back. ...

Continues from part two Part 3 I hung from my wrists in the darkness as my legs just couldn’t support me. My body felt completely drained and for the first time I shivered; not from fear or excitement but because I was actually cold. My body was soaked with sweat which had beaded and was now running down my body, it tickled a little bit as it ran down between my shoulder blades; made even more enjoyable by the fact that there was nothing I could do to stop it. My front was even wetter because of the drool from my tortured mouth. The bridle kept my jaw in a constant state of discomfort but what was worse was this unending stream of drool running down my chest, over my stomach and pussy, before finally dripping off and mixing with the puddle between my legs. ...

Continues from chapter one_ ### Chapter 2 - Easter Cats “Wear it!” “No, Kitty. I’m busy right now. I have to finish this online management course. Maybe we will play later.” “No, wear it now!” Erika wore her new furry suit for Mark’s birthday, but she never put it back on after, to my great despair. It’s been three weeks already, and I didn’t get to cuddle again with this soft cat a single time since. ...

Chapter 1 - Cat Education “NO!” “Well, you don’t have a choice!” I’m Kitty, and this evil person next to me is Erika. For one week already, she has been at our place, and some things were starting to change. I spent a lot of time with her because Mark, our boyfriend, was at work during the week. When he was around, wearing my full latex catsuit was the norm, which meant padded cat paws were attached, and I couldn’t use my hands. I decided a long time ago I would not let Mark see me out of this suit; he loved me too much as is. The only time he saw me out of my costume was for a few minutes on the first day we met. Since then, I had been exclusively a cute and rubbery catgirl. ...

Penelope had been working at the local grocers for the last few months. She was nineteen, fairly pretty, with brunette hair that went to her shoulders and had a short fringe that stopped before her blue eyes. The store didn’t require any uniforms, so she was free to wear her assortment of simple, but lovely clothes. Most of the time she wore silk frocks with skirts that were of equally light colours. On hotter days such as this she opted for thin white dresses. These were often accompanied by black stockings with cute designs patterned across them, her kitty leggings being her favourite set. ...

Those simple words led me down the deepest erotic chasm you can imagine. They were spoken so innocently and light heartedly to who I hoped was going to be my latest girlfriend. She was such a tiny thing with long dark hair pulled back into a severe ponytail that hung well below her shoulder blades. She was almost toylike in her daintiness, barely coming up to my shoulder yet so perfectly formed she made me both weak at the knees and hard at the groin. ...

When female slavery became legalized and commonplace across the civilized world nearly a decade ago, it left the average woman in a tough spot. Freedom and citizenship rights could be maintained by renewing an annual license, although the yearly cost for renewal alone rivaled most middle class incomes. Most women couldn’t afford it, and if they could afford it free women were treated as second class citizens anyway. No voting rights and rampant workplace discrimination and harassment were only the start of a free woman’s worries in the new world. Marriage was now a literal trap, wherein a woman would become the legal property of her husband. With the cost of freedom as high as it was to maintain, it’s no surprise many girls sought out additional, less legitimate, sources of income. Ironically, prostitution was still illegal. Not for the same reasons of course; since slave relief stations were provided everywhere as a service, government sponsored corporations sought to control all revenue in the market. Any women found guilty of even minor legal infractions could find their freedom voided and sent off for slavery processing, training, and auction. ...

You stand at the door. It is heavy, oaken, crossed with iron straps. Pierced solely by a tiny grille at eye level, displaying the merest hint of a glow from within. Buried in the cold stone basement of the old manor, its appearance alone fills you with trepidation, to say nothing of the step you intend to take when the door opens. The air is clammy, moist. You shiver in your thin shirt and bare feet. You gather your resolve and raise a hand to strike the iron knocker in the center of the door. Just as your hand is about to grip the metal ring, you hear – ...

Continues from chapter twenty Chapter 21: The Vote Grooms try to persuade the High Ones to accept Duke while May kneels cringing As the crowd dispersed to find refreshments and chat amongst themselves, grooms went to each of the High Lords and Ladies that they had worked with to plead their case to allow Duke to advance. Many of the High Lords were in favor of it and they in turn went to other High Lords and Ladies that were uncommitted. Between these High Ones and their grooms, votes were gathered for Duke. On the other side of the same coin, those that had vetoed his petition were out trying to strong-arm more of the High Ones to throw their veto in with their group of eight. Terms like fascist, and elitist, were used more than once by some of the High Lords, in reference to those trying to deny Duke. Arguments on the subject became very heated in some instances. ...

Continues from chapter nineteen_ ### Chapter 20: Pomp and Promotion May spent her morning getting mentally prepared for Duke’s promotion. Duke woke up to a very horny slave trying to gobble his hard-on as deeply down her throat as she could manage with her hands tied behind her back. He allowed his mind to fully rev-up and appreciate what she was doing before he disengaged from her, flipped her over on her bound arms and took her with long and powerful strokes that shoved her, little by little to the head of the bed, eventually banging her head against the headboard. Exploding the morning-load into her, he bent down and after scraping his teeth over her areola, he bit down on her nipple just hard enough to elicit a squeal. ...

I met my latest boyfriend in Social Studies class and the module we were studying was all about social norms and what our society sees as acceptable and unacceptable behavior. There were a lot of unacceptable behaviors, like assault, sexual assault, forced confinement. Some nerds didn’t know what that was and the teacher explained that it could include kidnapping, being left locked in a room or being tied up, things like that. Then some guy trying to sound smart calls out, “but what if she wants to be tied up?” That got quite a laugh from several boys, but not my boyfriend. That pretty well ended the class and we all left. ...

My husband and I had played at our unique adult games in the woods several times when the weather was warm, each turning out well enough for me, and him as well judging by his repeat performances. Ordinarily he was a once and done kind of man at home, but in the woods far enough from the road so as not to be able to hear it, (and of course in combination with our rope kink) he turned into an absolute animal. ...

Continues from chapter five_ ### Chapter 6: Her Best Efforts Needing to please him she works hard to learn her job and to make him proud. Back in the refresher, Duke took off her cuffs and replaced her blindfold with another type. This one had an inner foam pad with circular eye holes cut out of the dense foam, and a flexible opaque plastic cover that blocked out all light. It was held on the head by two plastic straps that buckled for security. One went over the ears and the other was fitted under the ears. ...

Continues from part five Part Six: Sampling A Foreign Brew …Once the Xlant was safely under way the captain came down himself to collect my shipping container, he got an eyeful as he opened the top and looked down at my bound and naked form. His position over my own exemplified our relative size difference, and while he was larger in the flesh than on the bridge’s view screen, he wasn’t so big as to be inhuman to me. ...

Part 1 “Enter,” Mistress Stephanie commanded from inside the library. Her Maid Camille opened the library door for Allison Robbins, Stephanie’s newest prospective client. Allison was twenty-one, just out of college, well built and attractive, a Greenwich socialite, heiress of a modest fortune, and unfortunately for her, getting into trouble and being chased by the paparazzi. “Mistress Stephanie, Allison Robbins is here,” said Camille. “Thank you, Camille. Allison, so nice to meet with you, please take a seat,” Stephanie offered. ...

Continues from part one_ ### Part 2 Exactly one week later, Allison had gone out to dinner with two of her girlfriends at a local restaurant. Halfway through dinner, she looked over – and there was Mistress Stephanie having dinner with another woman! Suddenly, Allison broke out in a sweat! What should she do? Should she simply ignore Mistress Stephanie and company? Should she walk over and say hello? Just what sort of etiquette was involved in seeing a Dominatrix? ...

Continues from part two Part 3 One day, Allison had promised to meet with two of her girlfriends in New York City to explore some fashion boutiques. After visiting the Prada and Max Mara stores, she feigned a headache, declined dinner, and said that she was going home to Greenwich. Instead, she retrieved her car from the parking garage and drove downtown, a particular address burning a hole in her pocketbook. ...

“Creation arose out of primordial darkness,” said Yadu. She alone had her mouth unveiled. Her habit hung down over her head like the up-turned hood of a sweatshirt. It poured down to her shoulders before the glossy latex reformed as a cape, one that sashayed around her waist as she walked back and forth. “The sacred light that is Order is present in every living being.” Yadu’s dark skin was punctuated by glossy lips of icy blue and eyes that seemed to glow with sky-shaded vigor. The white and black rubber of her habit kept her hair tucked beneath the hood. In fact, it kept all skin save that around her face totally enclosed in glorious, unyielding shiny black. ...

I think Techie knew it would happen: namely her being on display as a serving slave for me (Techster) and six of my friends as we watched a soccer game. It started off when she asked to see how bondage mitts felt. Of course I accommodated her wishes, but before she could say a word I pulled the laces tight, locked the straps around her wrists, using the small clips and chain her hands were bound behind her back. ...

Continues from part one Wednesday came in even hotter than Tuesday and we were all in our bikini bathing suits again. Around noon the girls asked me if I was going to stay in my bikini for the afternoon tie up game. I said that it was the most natural thing to do given the heat. We met up at the sandpit for the regular game. The boys counted to 50, my friends scattered, but I just stayed there until they had finished their counting. I said that this would save them having to catch me. They immediately ‘caught’ me and this time tied my hands together, palm-to-palm, but this time in front and pulled me along down a new trail for a few hundred meters. ...

Continues from chapter ten_ ### Chapter Eleven: The Test #### Part One: The Betrayal ##### Friday October 2, 1998 It was good, Janet thought, to get out of the house and her normal routine. The pressures of her job, her Domme duties, and now training Cheryl, all added to up a frustrating combination that threatened to overwhelm her. So Janet had asked Tina if she wanted to change and go into Greenwich for a little shopping as a break. Tina had declined, so Janet had gone alone, eventually finding herself at Saks Fifth Avenue. ...

Continues from chapter thirteen_ ### Chapter Fourteen: The Legacy #### Part One: Borrowed Time ##### July 1992 “Mistress, are you all right?” asked Andrea, concern and worry on her face. “What?” answered Erica, struggling back to consciousness. Erica realized that she had fallen asleep at her desk, resting her hands on the desktop, her arms for pillows. She had gone into the library to write a report on that new girl, Janet Davis who she had used the previous weekend. Then she had dropped off to sleep, exhausted. ...

Continues from chapter six_ ### Chapter Seven: Invasive Procedures ##### July 17, 1998 When the limousine arrived to bring Cheryl to Janet’s Estate, it was Mistress Janet herself who opened the front door. Cheryl had been picked up as normal, and driven to the Estate like any other week. “Please come in, Cheryl,” welcomed Janet. “Mistress?” asked Cheryl, puzzled that Tina had not been the one to greet her. “Enter.” Cheryl did as she was told, and Janet closed the door behind her. Janet looked over her slave very carefully. It had been just one week since she had disobeyed Janet, and Cheryl had been severely punished. ...

Continues from part one Fiona Martinez was in a difficult position, in the basement of the small house she rented. If you asked her, she would be hard put to tell you if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. If you asked her, she would be hard put to tell you anything at all. That was because her mouth was filled with a large rubber ball, attached to a leather strap buckled tightly behind her head. Her eyes were covered with a leather blindfold, and both of those were in turn covered by a snug rubber hood, pushing the blindfold against her eyes and the ball deep into her mouth, leaving only a hole for her nose so she could breathe. ...

He sat in the easy chair with his feet up, watching Remains of the Day. He took a sip of his Scotch on the rocks and replaced the glass on the end table. The balmy temperature of the living room allowed him to indulge in the comfort of bare feet, jeans and a simple, black t-shirt. He looked to his left. She sat in a similar chair, legs curled under her in silvery gray leggings, adrift in an oversize sweatshirt. She stared vacantly into the space above the television, the glass of red wine he poured for her earlier untouched on the table between them. ...

Continues from chapter two_ ### Chapter Three: The Interview #### Part One: The Gordian Knot ##### Monday June 8, 1998 Mistress Janet sat behind the library desk, staring at the photographs and file on the blotter. The pictures and personal information had been delivered to Janet’s estate Monday morning by a messenger service, and Tina had signed for them and given the large envelope to her Mistress. When Janet opened the envelope and removed the manila folder, it had taken all of her strength not to display her shock to Tina. ...

Continues from chapter three_ ### Chapter Four: Rejection #### Part One: That Feeling of Power ##### February 1983 Erica Riken sat at her desk, a cup of black coffee in front of her, papers neatly organized, and the IBM PC humming away. Trouble was, she just couldn’t concentrate on her work. In her new job of bookkeeper she was managing the finances of the liquor distributor, which handled hundreds of cases of hard liquor every day. Oddly, all she ever drank was perhaps wine with dinner or a whiskey sour once in a great while. ...

Continues from chapter five Chapter 6 The day before I left for the United Arab Emirates, Phillip Goldstein, my boss at the hedge fund and my Master, said he wanted to bid me farewell. We met in the massive Library in his mansion. A large, old book with a drawing of a large key on the cover rested in front of him. “I’ll be gone for only a month, Master,” I told him. Despite his celibacy - or more likely due to it - I wore a short black leather jacket without a blouse or bra underneath, a skintight royal blue leather miniskirt, and black leather thigh-high boots with a platform heel. ...

The game had gone like this for several days; the boys chased the girls, the boys caught me and then the boys tied me up. After the boys had their fun they left me tied up either to escape by myself or wait until the other girls found me. It started off as easy ties, which I usually got out of by myself, but as the boys discovered how flexible I was, the ties got tighter and more restrictive. By the end of the first week most of the ties were inescapable. I had a few conversations with my girlfriends and told them that I didn’t mind being the one to always get tied up, but they had to be sure to come and rescue me because the boys were getting too good at tying me up. The other three girls in my gang promised to watch where they took me and to get me out as soon as the boys left. As long as I continued to get tied up it meant they didn’t get tied up and that sat very well with them. With only one more week in my vacation at the cottage I was pretty sure I could take anything the boys could dream up. ...

Continues from part two Part Three: The Barn After the events of last week were the two of them had left me naked, bound and gagged inside a trunk and then stored away in a public storage facility, they had been forced to leave me there overnight as they had missed the closing time of the facility unintentionally, but to me, it was what they had planned for me all along, and I had enjoyed my night secured inside the trunk, and even more when they finally retrieved yours truly the next day from the locker. Once they safely got the trunk back home, they opened to find me still tightly trussed up, and with my arousal in spite of everything still high, I insisted that they take me for their pleasure and keeping me their bound plaything, using me however they wanted, my special reward for them both leaving me as a trussed-up package overnight. It was only after they had sated their and my own desires, that they told me the whole story of what had occurred. ...

Continues from chapter six Chapter Seven: A Terrible Phone Call Janet Davis turned uneasily in her bed, as she had not been able to get any sleep at all that night. It was not the traffic or anything in particular that was keeping her awake. Rather, it was just a feeling that something was wrong. She had tried everything to get to sleep, even taking a pill. But nothing had worked, and the digital clock by her bed mocked her as it recorded the passing of time. ...

Continues from chapter eleven Chapter Twelve: Two Days Till Doom The entire world had shrunk to the confines of the library. Janet sat behind the desk, a pitcher of coffee in front of her, a pile of Journals there as well. The television set was tuned to the financial channel, and Janet watched dumbly as the ticker scrolled across the screen. ‘I’ve lost,’ Janet thought to herself, ‘it’s the end.’ Now there was nothing to do except watch the clock tick away her last few remaining hours of freedom until the meeting with Blanca in Manhattan, which would decide who would inherit Erica’s estate. ...

Continues from chapter nine Chapter Ten: The Recovery It had been months since Janet had traveled to New York. For someone who had grown up in NY and spent their entire life in the shadows of Manhattan’s skyscrapers, Janet missed the city greatly. But now, on board the Metro-North train, she wondered if coming into the city had been a good idea after all. In her purse were the things that she had collected. That Erica owned stock in her former employer’s company. The empty envelope that Janet had found from her employer to Erica. The letter that she had found in Erica’s computer directing them to fire Janet upon her return to work. Most important of all was the document outlining the contest for Erica’s legacy between Janet and Tiffany. ...

Continues from chapter two Chapter Three: Janet’s Double Life For the next few months, Janet’s life took on a strange double existence. After her first weekend with Mistress Erica, she had been given a strange looking ring that had a chain around it’s entire circumference. Janet had slipped the ring on her index finger, where Erica had ordered. From Monday through Friday she worked at her regular job in NY as a secretary. On Friday night, however, when most people were looking forward to a normal weekend Janet would be preparing for something quite different. She would shower and clean up, shave her legs and eliminate as much body hair as she could. No bikini lines for a slave girl! ...

Continues from chapter seven Chapter Eight: The Competition Part One: A New Life Janet Davis sat her desk at her job in Manhattan. It had been a two weeks since Erica’s death and a week since she had returned to work. Chewing on a pencil, her mind kept returning to the events of the past two weeks. She had returned to work to partially continue her familiar life. Tiffany, however, had quit her job immediately. ...

Chapter One: Bondage Introductions Janet Davis had returned from work early from her job, as her girlfriend Sally Belmar was going to pay a visit. Janet had known Sally for a long time, and at their last meeting, her friend had said that she was going to make a special proposal to her. That previous evening, the two women had gotten drunk together, and Janet had admitted that she had been rather dissatisfied with her sex life. Sally had listened to her friend’s complaint intently, nodding with each point that her friend had made. ...

Continues from chapter five Chapter Six: Role Reversal Part One: Switch When the limo left her in front of Erica’s house one weekend, Janet was eagerly looking forward to seeing Erica. Over the past few weeks, Erica had been placing her in more stringent and difficult bondage positions. In addition, the Mistress had been punishing her in many more different ways. Janet had learned the cat and the flogger, and had been able to stand many more strokes than she had before. ...

Continues from chapter one Chapter Two: Introduction to Discipline The next day’s beginning could not have been more surprising for Janet. She had slept deeply in her jail cell, and so had Tiffany. Janet had rolled over bed, finally coming awake. Abruptly she realized where she was and what she had seen the previous night. Janet felt the collar around her neck, and the chain leading to the wall. Just for emphasis she pulled on the chain which had no effect. There was nothing that a naked girl could do against the implacable nature of steel. ...

Continues from chapter four Chapter Five: Return to Erica Part One: Friday The following weekend, Janet had her usual date with Mistress Erica. After her time with Stephanie, she wondered how she would feel about seeing her original Mistress again. There was no doubt that she had an exciting time with Stephanie. What could she say about a three-week period in which she had been treated as a slave girl, then given the opportunity to dominate another slave girl? In all of her time so far, she had never had such an interesting and painful time. ...

Continues from chapter ten Chapter Eleven: Janet Ascending Spring was giving way to summer, and the heat had begun to increase as the days got longer. Winter coats were shed for lighter spring ones, then finally for jackets and even going without. The heavy clothing of winter was gradually being replaced as the seasons changed, and Janet watched as the trendy women of Greenwich wore the newest fashions that season. But not Janet, who would wear either a full blouse or dress, in order to conceal the scars on her back. Unlike the scarlet letter of colonial times, Janet wore hers on her back, and it was marked into her skin. Janet could only wonder about the reaction that she would cause if she were to wear a tank top or something else that exposed her back into a public place. ...

Continues from chapter eight Chapter Nine: The Ordeal Janet looked outside her bedroom window at the dark winter sky. She had been sleeping in Erica’s bedroom now for months, and fortunately Tiffany had not made an issue of it. But it still felt strange sleeping in Erica’s bed, wearing her clothes, and living her life. It had been six months since her death last summer, and the time had gone by quickly. ...

Continues from chapter three Chapter Four: Slave Girl on Loan Time passed as Janet continued to lead her highly unusual life. From Monday through Friday, she worked at her job and lived normally. She worked, shopped, did laundry. She refused the advances on men at her job, and stopped socializing with her female friends. Gradually, she acquired the nickname of Ice Queen. When Friday came, she couldn’t wait for the arrival of the limo to take her to Mistress Erica for her bondage session. Little could her co-workers imagine just what she was doing on her time off. Normally, they would all go out for happy hour on Friday. Janet would refuse, since she had to get ready. ...

Part 14: Forgiven “…Well, to continue the story,” Gregory said, “Dana I think said something about her and Tracy’s bed being squeaky, she asking Dennis if he had his toolbox with him, and if he did would he be willing to look at it for her. Dennis’ eyes predictably lit right up with that for several obvious reasons, and of course he offered to help…” “What man wouldn’t though?” Gregory asked rhetorically as almost an afterthought when he saw the look on my face. ...

I was scared. Really terrified, sitting in the middle of the campus coffee shop in mid-day waiting for my fate. But I had no choice, did I? I had broken the rules in my sorority. And now this young sorority member gets to pay. I fidgeted as I sipped my latte. Waiting for someone, a male acquaintance, maybe a friend, at the moment almost a stranger, to come find me. The next four hours I had to do everything anyone said to me. Two of my sorority sisters, Jean and Kelli, were at a close-by table, monitoring me. Maybe there were more, perhaps somebody’s boyfriend I didn’t know. There was no way to cheat. They would know if I didn’t do everything anyone told me to. So I had to. My one safety was that I knew my two sorority sisters were strictly there to observe, not interact or interfere in any way. No one around me knew that I would immediately obey any command given to me. Except for Sam, who knew and was coming to meet me here. And I had no doubt what he’d want to do. ...

4: Scare Me Nel was an actress as well as Greg’s girlfriend. She had a strange request for him: Scare me. She had a role coming up in her current play and as hard as she tried, she could not wrap her head adequately around her character’s situation. Part of the play involved her character being betrayed and captured by a former lover who was now with the bad guys and left her tied to a chair in a room with a ticking time bomb. Nel was having trouble wrapping her head around the desperation, the emotions around being left in that sort of situation. Of course, in the play she gets rescued at more or less the traditional last second by the hero. So Nel asked Greg to find a way to help her, safely of course, to experience that so she could relate to her role. They were wildly kinky in their very active sex life. They had sex constantly it seemed and often she was tied up, usually naked. Which was fine with her. Above and beyond the fun and orgasms there were often acting opportunities. She spent so much time out of her clothes - especially out in the desert hills where no one else could see them - that her full-body no-lines tan was starting to be difficult to explain. ...

Continues from chapter eleven CHAPTER 12 - PEACH I woke up to the sound of loud fast-paced beeping. I blinked and groggily looked around. I was in Katie’s room at the health clinic, seated in the padded armchair next to her bed. I glanced up toward the health monitor to my right that was emitting the loud beeping. Flashing in red at the top of the screen was the word “ALERT” and a horizontal red line scrolled across the middle of the screen next to a symbol of a crossed-out heart. ...

story continues from part one. Part Two Monday found us back in the training routine with Cathy and Mary. Listening to Mary and Cathy, it became obvious that their main aim was to build up our strength and stamina. It was exhausting but enjoyable, even if all we wanted to do at the end of the day, was eat then sleep. However, as the days progressed, the aches and pains disappeared and the work became easier, then one day, as we were being put back in our stalls, Lady Elizabeth appeared and asked how we were doing. It was Mary who replied. ...

Story continues from part 5 Part 6: Back to Reality The next morning I awoke with a slight sore head due to all the alcohol I had consumed the day before. I wasn’t drunk but, I could feel him watching me. “Good morning master” I said sleepily. “Good morning darling….we need to talk” I could sense something was in the wind. “Well I am all ears master” “What are the key principles of BDSM?” ...

Halloween, First Time, Group Sex, Male-Female, Female-Female, Daisy Chain, Deep Throat = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A young woman narrates her Halloween Tri-Delta adventure. In this story we follow a young woman’s adventures as she crashes the Tri-Delta’s annual Halloween party. She has heard that it would be the greatest fuckfest of the year and is determined to experience it all. ...

Authors note: The images for this story can be found on my deviantart page A Mistake on the Contract This is a story about how my life changed overnight because of a silly mistake. Just because of a stupid number, I was doomed, and nobody has the ability to get me out of my predicament. But let’s back on when all started. My name is Steve, I’m 22 years-old student living in a small city with my mom. Actually, my parents are divorced, and now, my dad lives in a foreign country in Europe. ...

Amy closed the door behind her. She turned around, and there it was. The residential trash compactor, home to the garbage of the local block, consisting of 20 flats. One man, the caretaker, would bring everyone’s trash to the compactor at the end of each day. This meant Amy would be less likely to be disturbed, and didn’t have to worry about the potential of many different neighbours walking in on her. ...

story continues from Part 2 Part 3 Caroline woke up with a start and banged her head, “Bloody hell,” she muttered with difficulty then her senses started to kick in. Moving her arms she realised that she couldn’t move them far from her waist as her wrists were locked in metal cuffs and coupled to her waist. Her mouth was full of a rubber cock and she couldn’t see anything as her head was laced into a leather hood. Not that she could go far either as her ankles where manacled with a short chain between them and as she felt around with her feet she remembered that she was locked in a cage. ...

story continues from Part One Part 2 Caroline Grey sits and looks out over the river Ouse. The warmth of her apartment comforts her as she glances up at the clock for the tenth time that hour. Looking down by her feet she sees the small bag she had packed for the weekend that is about to begin in fifteen minutes. That is if she decides to go through with it. ...

story continues from Part 3 Part 4 Three weeks later Caroline is sitting in the workshop naked and wearing metal shackles on her ankles and that’s all apart from a smile and some leather. The past three weekends had been so much fun and she had finally got Daz to shag her. She had been too sore after the van ride and the number of orgasms had left her drained. So much so she hadn’t been much good to him on Sunday. Sleeping her way until tea time. So, they had waited until midweek before he tied her to his work bench and had her and it was worth the wait. ...

The clock read 1:00 on her watch… she had waited enough. She approached the fence keeping an eye on her surroundings. She glances up and saw the camera… nimbly climbing the fence she perched and examined it. She had been sneaking into houses for a few years now. She learned to spot security devices real quick. She deactivated the camera and noted the model… the type was typical meant there was at least three others around. Most girls had gone to college at her age and we’re either piss drunk or working on a degree. Not her. She didn’t want to do school again. She’s been great at hide and seek and sneaking in and out of the house growing up. She figured she was a natural to be a burglar. ...

Spanking, Fantasy, Anal, Wagers, Public Exhibition, Public Orgasm, Romance = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Joan-e meets Sailor and gets the spanking of her life. This is a spanking fantasy story with touches of amputee fantasy mixed in. It is primarily about spanking and it is totally a fantasy. If you are dumb enough to actually try this at home, you will discover that your breaking point is well below Joan-e’s 460+. But if you are smart enough to read this as a fantasy– and accept it as such– you will enjoy it. And whether you enjoy giving or receiving OTK hand spankings, reading this story will give you a nice, warm, internal glow as you think about Joan-e’s glowing red ass. ...

Story continues from part 4 Part 5: Positive Steps It had been a month since our demonstration and a lot of things had or were about to change in that short amount of time. My master was away with a friend on a special trip, code for we are going to do a job that will take half a day and we will spend the rest of the time in a bar getting drunk! He thinks I button up the back however its almost adorable seeing him squirm as he makes up his excuses as to why this trip is going to take 4 days. Nothing really changes when he is away. I still wear only stockings, garter belt and heels around the house & I always wear my collar, cuffs and chains as if he were here, I just become my own master for a few days but, I do long for him and the mere thought of him makes my juices begin to flow uncontrollably. ...

Fetish, Fantasy, Spanking, Machine = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = What would you do if you didn’t know where husband worked? A newlywed bride doesn’t know where her husband works, and wishes that she knew. Perhaps she never heard the phrase, “Be careful what you wish for… you just might get it.” And oh, does she get it. ...

It wasn’t the cool breeze off the ocean that was giving Nicole the shivers. She hadn’t seen Carla in nearly two years, not since they had graduated from the arts academy together. Carla had scored a job with some big production company that ate up all her time. Nicole, on the other hand, had a series of near-misses and also-rans that made her wonder if she was ever going to have more than the menial jobs she worked to barely made the rent. Between her hectic schedule and the hush-hush nature of Carla’s job they’d had little time for socializing and had drifted apart. So it was with no little amount of excitement that Nicole accepted when Carla called out of the blue and mentioned a “fun opportunity” she wanted to put to her old roomie. The idea of hooking up with her old friend for a bit of adventure caught her fancy. ...

As always when it comes to this sort of kinky thing… don’t try this at home (or at school, for that matter). And if there’s a sexy janitor in your life, find a way to tell him you like him without going to the sort of trouble Tina did… This story features incredibly unrealistic and impractical forms of technology and trash disposal systems, for the sake of being that much kinkier. ...

Story continues from part three Part 4: Its never too late After taking a lovely warm & relaxing shower I dried myself and slipped on a red silk robe that covers me, but certainly doesn’t leave much to the imagination! I went downstairs into the open plan kitchen and prepared a platter of cheese sandwiches and 2 large glasses of fresh orange juice, without the bits! I got a strange feeling whilst waiting for mum. Today had been quiet a day of revelations for her and I had an idea that she would have some revelations of her own to share with me. Mum and I always had an extremely close bond and we shared everything with each other, well I had thought. ...

Part One Miss Kennedy, I would like to offer you a position for which I believe you are eminently suited. However, the position would require you to live here on my estate for a period of approximately one year. As I value privacy, you would be required to sign a Non Disclosure Agreement before terms and conditions are discussed. However, if you feel that you are unable or unwilling to continue when you have heard what I require, you may choose to leave with no hard feeling on my part. ...

I have been enjoying self-bondage for quite a while along with being naked in semi-public places. Often I would start my days with a naked run on trails in nearby woods interspersed with short runs down regular public roads that link two trail entrances. All of this was fun and quite risky. Then I read and was inspired by a story I read here. A gentleman across the pond had related a story of combining a type of bondage and being naked in public. He would select a risky spot to hide a key then walk a set distance away and chain his clothes to a tree. The key to the lock releasing his clothes was the hidden key. ...

“I’m sorry. I just don’t like you that way.” Matt had heard a variation of those words a few times in his life. As many as the times he tried to approach a girl. The girl looked at him awkwardly saddened as she said those words. They always did. He wasn’t that unattractive, just chubby. But he could never seem cool around girls and most nights ended up with him on the couch, watching anime and movies, or playing video-games. “All these stuck up sluts!” Matt thought to himself. He was fed up with women. Finally, they would pay for rejecting him. ...

It was going to be the longest mile of Sally’s life yet she’d wanted to do it this way to prove devotion to her lover. A walk along a deserted beach dressed in a flowing white nightdress… …while restrained at the wrists in broad daylight! “You’ve gotta be joking!” she’d exclaimed when Judith Curran, her partner had told the girl about it earlier in the ferry queue. They’d had a marvellous time up in Orkney. Nobody seemed to care a jot at seeing two lovely girls holding hands. Possibly assuming they were sisters despite the fact Jude was six years older than Sally Marlow. Neither cared a jot what people might say and certainly they’d not been troubled while touring around. At least nobody knew about the box of bondage restraints that was sitting in the boot of Judith’s motorhome as she bounced it off the ferry at Loth, the southern most point on the island of Sanday. Both girls surprised at how many people were here as the boat was full up. A question to a ‘hunk’ in a tearoom at the Social Center and nearby school provided the answer. It was the Island’s Fair today so the Mayor was undergoing the Ice Bucket Challenge, and nearly everybody had turned up to witness this and attend the biggest event in the social calender. Also as it was a former popular singer who’d retired here then a few people wanted his autograph too. “There’s probably nobody left beyond Skeelbay ladies,” he said when Sally asked him was this all the population. The girls smiled at each other, nodded then bought another couple of food items to take north. Returning to the van, this time Sally was to be driving as she grabbed the keys off her buddy. “Guess I can trust you on roads this quiet!” Judith chuckled as they left the port behind them. It took ten minutes before they saw another car, this also heading for Loth and by the time Sally passed Northskaill the vehicle count was down to zero except a tractor. The place was indeed deserted and arriving at Whitemill Bay, an hour from the port she sighed with pleasure as the engine was switched off and the diesel rattle faded. A check of the map and they found another carpark at the far end. “That’ll be quieter even than this one. More sheltered too so I’ll go there” Sally said firing the wagon up again. A few bumpy minutes along the clifftop track they arrived back at sea level and now she knew it’d be safe here. Only the call of a few gulls broke the silence, a faint swish as waves broke across the deserted golden sand. But Sally knew this was only postponing her walk. “Right missy… time to get changed, girlie,” Judith said with a glint in her eyes and Sally Marlow grinned and nodded. Standing by the side of the van she still looked round before undressing! Her tanned skin glowing in the afternoon sunshine, blonde hair doing the same as she finished up and finally stood naked, hands almost shyly covering her midriff and breasts. Judith opened the case containing the frock then carefully handed the underwear over then the diaphanous gown last. The fact she’d made Sally change outside was just another cruel thing that would need to be avenged! Laughing at how quickly Sally got into it as the garments were whipped away in turn! Barely two minutes later she watched those burnished cheeks blushing with relief that nobody except Judith had seen her naked. The older girl reached behind Sally’s back and slooowly drew up the zip then secured it into the slot. “Thanks,” Sal murmured as they came for a kiss, Judith’s fingers stroking hips through the flimsy material. Under the sun you could clearly see her lacy bra and briefs but at least it ‘felt’ covered as she buttoned up the sleeve cuffs by her wrists. “You do look stunning wearing that honey,” Judith said and Sal blushed. This was her special dress, normally worn for their anniversary nights or birthdays, the first time it’d been used in a bondage scenario and she hoped it wouldn’t get damaged. Judith had bought it for her and given it to the lass on the celebration of their first year as a couple. “Box… now,” Judith ordered and Sally shuddered as she fetched the key from her handbag, surrendering it with another sigh as the container was positioned where it could be unpacked. Tomorrow this would be reversed when Miss Curran would take her turn in bondage again. The lock was undone and opened, the glint of steel shining as both girls looked down into it. Judith Curran smiled at her friend… and having remembered being forced yesterday to run naked round the moonlit Ring of Brodger this was payback time… “One of everything today…” she said and Sally’s heart froze as she knew this was in the rules. Whatever the ‘dom’ handed over, was to be worn, so this afternoon it appeared that she was to be bound… By a collar. By a belt. Her wrists cuffed together. Her ankles cuffed together and attached by a chain to the belt. Gagged. Veiled. ‘Well at least I’m gonna be barefoot, cannot walk in heels on sand,’ Sally thought as Judith lifted the belt out. Both girls had the same waist size and used their bondage equipement as slimming devices. If the belt seemed tight it was time to hit the gym harder! A quiet groan as Judith applied it, the click of the lock audible to both girls and they were smiling as the leg cuffs were undone. Sally felt those slid round her ankles, a finger stroking her leg as it traced northwards… but she was still smiling as they were secured. Jude putting the thin chain on the loop at the rear. Next it was the cuffs and she asked Sally did she want her bound arms free or these also connected to the belt by a snaplock. Sally grinned and nodded that yes she’d like them attached, but careful not to use one of her ten-word allowance while wearing restraints. Another of the conditions each had agreed since starting their relationship three years ago. Judith did her bidding, applied the collar and got the tiara and veils ready to adorn her head, as the penis gag would be the final piece of the bondage. Soon Sally stood trembling as Jude worked to weave the tiara into her long blonde locks. Leaving the veils up at the moment so she could apply the gag. Stepping back at the end she fetched the device from the box and returned to her bound lover. “OK sweetheart? Time to speak…if you want to.” Sally Marlow had thought and counted her words and got it right. Knowing that Judith would be impressed at her with this one. As she’d normally been a bit shy doing outdoor bondage it’d taken a while for her to get used to it. But today, with nobody except Miss Curran within miles… it’d be OK, wouldn’t it? “Judith, would you relock my wrists behind my back… please,” she said slowly. Counting each one and smiling at her partners’ surprised expression as she digested it. She too had silently totted up the number and knew Sally would not be able to say stop now. “Wow Sal. I am impressed love,” she said at last. Their fingers entwining as they had a long smooch. Breaking off Judith took the keys off Sally’s collar and unlocked her wrists again. This time an embrace followed, hands rubbing the others’ butts and the older girl could feel her lover shaking, possibly with nerves, or maybe excitement perhaps as those captivating eyes looked at her. “OK, as you wish, wrists behind you, now please,” Judith ordered and Sally froze, then slowly placed them at the small of her back. Jumping as the first was enclosed by steel, then repeated for the second and now she really was trembling. The keys were hung by a snaplock on Sal’s collar, another tease for the captive, as it’d mean she’d have to be careful. Snaplocks were designed to be safe but naturally with freedom… and one set of keys then no chances could be taken. But still she was determined to go through with this so obeyed the order to open up. Judith sliding the gag inside then buckling the straps around her head. Lastly the two veils were lowered and the outer one pinned into place both front and behind. This was enough that Sal could not turn her head or she’d rip the pins out. The inner silky layer was to flutter in the breeze against her nose to torment her. But a slightly surprised Sally saw how little vision she had. No wonder brides get escorted up the aisle! She thought as Judith closed the lid of the box. She grabbed the binoculars and checked the beach was still empty then returned. “Right sweetheart, there is no time limit and the tide is still going out. All you have to do is walk, from here to the other carpark where we were earlier, OK? I’ll be there waiting for you. I promise.” With that she led Sally onto the sand, patted her ass, pointed in the right direction then walked away leaving her lover bound and gagged… and loving the feeling of helplessness. This growing as Judith soon drove off and the gulls returned to squawking at each other rather than the van engine. Sal stood there sighing then turned to her left and began. Pacing slowly across the golden sand, her dress flicking round both legs, the clink of chain hiding the rustle of silk while the keyring jingled from the collar and Sally was smiling nervously. Already planning tomorrow’s session where Judith would be tied up naked somewhere and exposed to the elements! However Sally was still scared of being seen like this, surely there was… No. It was impossible she thought and wondered whether to bottle out. But she couldn’t lose face so a frustrated groan and carried on walking. The sand lovely and warm on her bare feet with no crabs or rocks to injure her toes. No bloody shelter either and before long Sally Marlow was heading for the cliff edge where the sand stopped. This meant if she saw someone coming the other way, it might be possible to find a cave and take cover. Trouble being it also meant Sally had to walk a lot further too. Whitemill Bay was on a curve and by hugging the cliffs rather than cutting directly across open sand it easily doubled the distance and surely Judith knew that… then realised of course she had, so that made it worse then! ‘I’m gonna make you squeal’ she muttered behind the gag… The distance seemed more than a mile and Sally mentally ’ticked off’ the craggy outcrops as she passed each in turn. No sign of the carpark yet, the sunshine now straight into her face making the veils almost opaque now and bloody hard to see through! Daydreaming she paced onwards, a real large rockfall to her right and nervously Sally headed away from the cliff and got round it then headed back into shel… and she stopped dead. There was a TENT in there barely fifty feet away! A single bloody tent and a horrified Sally saw a shadowy figure standing nearby. Though it appeared from his stance he was looking up the cliff face rather than out to sea. She dithered and was stepping backwards when she trod on a half-buried seashell… and the stumble made her fall over. She squealed in pain and despite the gag he must have heard. Sally nearly burst into tears as he came and stood over her prone body. Of course her bindings prevented any chance of running away and she lay there waiting… “What the hell…” he said trying to discerne what lay at his feet. A pretty girl all chained up… and crying now as the emotion got too much for her. He paused then lifted the struggling lass to her feet and stared into her face as she wept. Discovering to his amazement that she had something stuffed into her mouth as well! Now Wally Slimmon might be one of Scotlands leading geologists but he did have a normal if rather monastic lifestyle these days. Too much fieldwork and weeks away had led to divorce but at 46 he still cut a rakish figure. So now… no, but of course he was fascinated at what had stumbled into his camp. Sally stayed still as this guy stared at her, then flinched as his hands reached for the pins on her veil. “It’s alright missy, I’m not going to harm you. Just curious as to what you are doing here like this,” he said. A rich but oh so musical timbre in his voice and Sal was impressed. Miss Marlow worked in a theatre so was used to people with resonance in their speech and this man was the same. He freed her from the veils, lifting them carefully over to the back then reached for the gag, tapping the keys at the same time as he realised what they were for. “Oh, I see you’re one of that sort,” and now Wally was smiling as the girl blushed. “I’ve read a bit about… ladies who do self-bondage, never thought I’d see an example in real life and certainly never out here.” The gag slid out and Sally coughed and spluttered her thanks, asking for a drink if he had any spare. Wally surprised she wasn’t begging to be freed. She drank half the glass and said that was fine. “Guess I’d better explain then,” she grinned and sat down on a stool having been invited to rest her feet. The lass not minding as his hands had helped her down, both just brushing her breasts and it was his turn to glow as he apologised. “Yeah right,” she chuckled, “but you’re not the first either,” and then Sally told all. That she was in a happy lesbian relationship with Judith, though both girls were allowed ’to have some of the other’ as long as they confessed to the partner. Admitting that on at least one occasion they’d had the guy at the same time! “Really, I bet he thought all his luck had come at once!” Wally grinned and now Sally was comfortable enough to laugh as well. Pleased that he hadn’t come out with a ‘such a waste’ comment like so many others when telling someone that they ‘batted for the other side. The guy still amazed she was happy to be cuffed like this. Saying that Judith was the one who’d put her into this and that she would be waiting to free her once the walk was done. “She’ll be wondering where I am. But could you do me a favour… I’m busting for the loo…” Sally said jangling her wrists and looking pleadingly at him. Wally laughed and took the keys off her collar and went behind, unlocking Sally’s wrists and the girl groaned as she flexed both shoulders. Taking the keys back then reaching down and removing the leg restraints with the belt last. “Thanks, now where do I… go,” she asked, the guy saying that partway down the rockface was a portaloo that his team had dropped off for him two days ago. He was to be here a fortnight and “Hardly got time to walk a mile down to your car-park each time.” Such a blessing and it was a smiling Sally Marlow who returned minutes later saying what a relief and that she should have gone before starting the walk. Seeing Wally giving her the once over and she couldn’t help an extra sway, allowing her dress to ebb and flow. They had a chat about his work and though the finds here in the fall were disappointing so far he was determined to check what he could. “I get paid for working like this, you two have to spend money to come here… playing bondage games, yes?” Wally grinned, saying she was wearing a nice outfit, despite the current usage. “Yeah, does feel good,” she replied, running both hands over her hips again to tease him. The guy grinning at her starting to blush when he said, “Shame I cannot check for myself eh?” Sally did smile a little more warmly now as she relaxed, then amazed herself by saying he could! She was that thankful for him not attacking her when she’d been restrained that maybe she owed him. He paused as she stood there, the girl nodding then slowly reached for her as Sally walked forward. Those hands gently touching her waist then sliding round onto her butt and tenderly rubbing all over. She closed her eyes and puckered up to hopef… and almost swooned as their lips met. “It’s been a long while since I did anything like that,” he murmured while taking a breather moments later. She nodded and said the same. “Judith’s lovely and I couldn’t be without her, but there’s something a guy has… and I know she wouldn’t mind…” she began, then paused… “Be gentle with me… but I need… all of you… now,” she whispered. Sally’s heart was pounding as he removed her headdress then lowered the zip on her. The girl stepping elegantly out of it then coming closer to allow him to finish undressing her. The lacy bra freeing two lovely breasts then his hands went below and soon a naked girl was being led to his tent. “Sand gets everywhere and a blanket’ll be a damn sight more comfortable.” He stripped off and… wow… was all she could think of. It was a special as she’d hoped as Wally took her that afternoon. Though out of practice he made her feel special and the squeals proved it. “Not too loud or you’ll bring more rocks down,” he chuckled as she gasped and groaned away. A shriek of laughter at that and he commented that maybe she should have worn her gag. Sally grinned and once they’d finished with a sensual shared shower under the waterfall streaming from the cliff asked what the time was. Slightly concerned that she’d been here an hour! “Judith will squeal even louder,” Sally joked as she tossed over the towel used to dry her hair. Working the tiara and veils back onto her head then doing her underwear before applying the dress. Like a true gent he zipped her up, then turned Sally round for another rub and kiss. “Time to chain up I guess,” she said and did the belt and leg cuffs herself leaving the guy to do her wrists. “Feels OK?” he asked once they were secured and she blushed and nodded yes then allowed him to gag her. Once she was safely restrained he kissed her, then pinned the veils into the right place before telling Sally something… She stared at him for ages then nodded, turning away and shuffling off, being stopped and sent the right way as she’d started to head for the wrong carpark! Judith Curran was concerned as surely Sally should be in sight by now? A bright sunny afternoon and a white-clad lass… you can see miles here but the horizon was clear as she leaned over the railing to look down to the left… and finally smiled. “You little chicken…” she exclaimed, seeing her lover shuffling alongside the cliff face, dodging out of sight now and again and Jude realised what she was doing. Keeping close to cover and only exposing herself as briefly as possible. Least it explained why she’d been so long as the girl drew closer. Judith looked around and was pleased the carpark was still deserted, even the gulls had cleared off now. With Sally probably within earshot she called out, seeing her jump at first, pause then start to hurry… well with only a few inches of chain it was a fast shuffle and soon the girls were together. Jude hugging her tight and saying well done. She’d tease her later about not going straight across. A last check and she led the tired lass up to the carpark and safely into the motorhome. Sally was exhausted at her endevours and pleased to be inside. Judith unpinning the veils then reaching for… “Sal dear… where are your keys honey…?” she said at last, shocked that somehow the snaplock had failed. Then having seen Sally wasn’t concerned… the faintest of grins there… “OK Missy, what are you up to? How the… oh, better get the gag out and you’ll need a bloody good explanation young lady!” So Sally, refreshed after a drink told her lover that halfway back, she’d met a hunky geologist who waylaid her, let the lass use his toilet then given her one! Now he was waiting for the so-called friend who’d done this, to come and rescue her keys in person! Only problem being was that Judith was to walk there NAKED and bound! It was her turn to squeal “You’ve gotta be joking!” But the grin on Sally’s face meant that she wasn’t. “Yes, he’s promised that if you go tonight, as it’ll be dark in three hours anyway, then he’ll return them to you. Plus he’ll make sure you get back here safely. And Jude, he IS a bit dishy too…” Sally laughed, seeing Judith’s expression of… lust perhaps starting to emerge? ...

Continues from part two Part Three Tina sure had some wild adventures. Probably why she was always smiling when she got home. One time they were nearing a large coastal city and it was about 3 PM, if they kept going all that would happen would be them getting stuck in rush hour traffic. The load didn’t have to be delivered until 9 PM so they decided to take two and a half hours parked at a truck stop instead of the traffic. ...

Continues from part one Part Two Tina on the average was gone with him every other weekend for the next few months. Sometimes it was midweek, normally when he was running to the coast and back but not always. She bloomed, blossomed right up, was back to the happy-go-lucky person I knew and hoped for. One four-day weekend he took her to show her where he lived in South Dakota. Tina told me he had an apartment in Rapid City, comfortable enough but not too big. It was more a place to crash since most of his life was in his rig. Tina was happy to report she saw no recent traces of a feminine touch in the place. One couldn’t be sure, but so far he looked to be just what he said he was and Tina was just head-over-heels. Really bad, even for her. ...

BDSM,Techno-Nerd Mystery, Reluctant, Non-Consensual, Slave, Electro-Pain, Electro-Sex, Megavibrator, D/s, = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A very interesting, naked messenger shows up on W’s doorstep. In order to save the life of a naked messenger, W is forced to hold a demonstration party for his new Orgasmatron Ultra. This is a BDSM techo-nerd adventure/mystery. There is a non-consensual Master-Slave relationship, and consensual participation in the demonstration of the Orgasmatron Ultra which does what its name implies, takes women to orgasm multiple times. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * ...

story continued from part one Part 2 My mind wandered as I knelt in my bondage; I had played with self-bondage before but never to the point where I couldn’t release myself in moment’s notice and never with any chance of been discovered. But now I had leaped without thinking into situation that I realised was ridiculously dangerous. I didn’t know Elif at all and here I was butt naked in inescapable bondage awaiting punishment. How could I be so stupid? How could I let my curiosity override my basic common sense? ...

James watched. He could not help himself. He wanted to look away but what he saw pulled at him. Before him lay a woman. Spread eagled on a bed. Bound by ropes and chain. Blind folded and hardly moving. Wires running to her vagina and breast. He was not ignorant. Just that you hear about these things and sort of dismiss them. Not in my backyard sort of thing. A retired Navy man with over twenty-two years in the service. He thought had seen it all. ...

story continued from chapter 8 Chapter 9: The Auction I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing loudly in my ear. I ignored it until the ringing finally stopped. Moments later, the phone rang again. Barely awake, I groggily reached over to the nightstand, lifted the phone into the air and slammed it back down onto the receiver. I exhaled in relief as the incessant ringing stopped once more. Rolling onto my side, I felt oddly disoriented. Despite the plush mattress beneath me, my back ached as if I had slept the night on a concrete slab. My eyes opened just wide enough for me to see the red lights of the LED clock next to me. The time read 2:49pm. Opening my eyes wider, I could see that I was back in my suite. I laid in silence contemplating how I had gotten here. The last thing I remembered was… shit… What was the last thing I remembered? Every muscle in my body ached simultaneous as I used my arms to push myself upright into a seated position. I was completely naked. I groaned as I delicately shifted my legs to hang over the edge of the bed. I felt as if I’d been hit by a bus. Staring blankly at the wall in front of me, I continued wracking my brain to find my bearings. Why on earth did I feel so horrible? Suddenly, everything came flooding back. The kennel, Brandy, Annabelle, Katie, the extractor… The day prior had been both a physical and emotional hell. From Brandy enslaving me, to Katie planting drugs in the suite, to all three of us being thrown into the kennel, to me having my pussy vibrated to oblivion while I was trapped in a strict hogtie. Fuck, it really had been an awful day. No wonder I felt so sore. But how did I get back here? Still staring blankly at the wall in front of me, I vaguely recalled being driven by security guards back to my suite in a golf-cart. It was dark outside, so it must have been sometime late last night. Or early this morning. I remember him saying something to me as I was carried into the suite, but I couldn’t remember what… After he laid on the bed, everything went blank. I stood to my feet, clenching the down comforter to help me maintain my balance. I walked gingerly to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet to take a piss. Damn, even my crotch ached! The extractor had really done a number on me! Standing up to wash my hands, my heart skipped a beat as I saw my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles encompassed my eyes and my hair resembled a disheveled bird’s nest. But as beastly as I may have looked, my appearance was not the cause of the pit that had suddenly formed in my stomach. It was the bright red collar around my neck… My heart momentarily stopped beating. I was wearing a collar again! My hands shot to my neck in terror. What the hell?! I ran my fingers frantically around the collar, searching for a buckle or clasp to unlock. But the collar appeared to be mechanically locked, just as my previous collar had been. “What the fuck?!” I said out loud. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to focus… Think, Ally. How did this happen? Who did this? Why was this collar red? After nearly a minute of staring at my reflection, the phone rang again, snapping me out of my contemplative state. I spun around in frustration and stormed back into the bedroom. “What?!” I said loudly into the phone. “What is it?!” I heard a click on the other line followed by a cheerful recording of a woman’s voice, “Hello. This is a prerecorded message reminding you about your disciplinary hearing at… 3 o’clock PM… at the Administration Bureau. Please arrive 10 minutes prior to your appointment. Thank you.” My heartbeat continued to race as I processed the words. Disciplinary hearing? What the fuck did that mean? “If you would like to hear this message again, please press 1.” I hung up the phone, and merely stared at it. I was still too disoriented to grasp what was going on. Disciplinary hearing??? Had the security guard explained this to me last night? Shit, it really did seem like I was living one nightmare after another. I kept replaying the words “Disciplinary hearing at 3 o’clock PM” over and over in my head, desperate to trigger some sort of memory. Just then, I glanced back at the LED clock that read 2:56pm. Shit. Wherever the Administration Bureau was, I was supposed to be there in exactly 4 minutes. Technically, I should have been there 6 minutes ago, if I was abiding by the instructions to arrive 10 minutes early. I quickly turned and walked back into the foyer where I’d left my shopping bags from the day prior. But to my surprise, nothing was there. I spun around, frantically scanning the suite. C’mon, Ally, I thought. Where the fuck did you put them? I walked back into the bedroom and opened the door to the walk-in closet. Nothing… Storming back into the foyer, my eye caught a piece of paper on the entry hall table that I’d missed earlier. It was a hand-written note… Dear Jodie, In the event that your addled state of mind caused you to forget, please note that your disciplinary hearing is set for 3:00pm at the Corrections Office. Please arrive 10 minutes early dressed ONLY in your probation collar. Once you have signed over custody of Ms. Michaels, your belongings will be returned to you and you will be free to go. See you soon, Mistress Annabelle Beneath her signature was a brochure map. A red circle had been drawn around the old wine distillery on the opposite side of the castle. While we knew it as the “catacombs”, a dot at the entrance now read Corrections Bureau. The catacombs did seem uniquely fitting for a location that dealt with “corrections”. It was basically an underground dungeon. Of course Annabelle would have her office in a dungeon. Fucking vampire. I reread the letter quickly, flipping it over to make sure I didn’t miss anything on the back side. Dressed only in my probation collar? She expected me to go there naked?! Dammit, this woman really was a bitch! With a deep sigh, I snatched the lanyard with my keycard off of the table and marched angrily out the door. It was raining outside. Not too hard, but hard enough to piss me off that I was forced to experience it without any clothes on. Not wanting to know what would happen if I arrived late, I jogged down the stone staircase of the castle. To my relief, the square was relatively empty of guests. Likely, due to the rain. You could almost smell all the sex that was going on while everyone was staying dry in their rooms. After a short jog around the castle, I reached the cobblestone ramp that descended beneath the castle bridge to the catacombs. A sign hanging above the door read “Corrections Bureau”. I walked through the door and shivered as a gust of cold air met my wet skin. An entry bell jingled as the door closed behind me. The air felt dingy and dank down here. Stone lined the floors, walls, and hanging wrought iron lamps gave the long entry hall an eerie orange glow. In the middle of the hallway sat a woman at a semi-circled desk. Behind her at the end of the hall stood two security guards on either side of the large wooden door. Despite my nakedness, I took a deep breath and confidently approached the woman sitting behind the counter. She was dressed just as Katie had been dressed when I first met her- White blouse, grey vest, and a burgundy choker. Her hands were handcuffed in front of her as she typed on a keyboard. “Hi, how may I help you?” She asked pleasantly. “Yeah,” I replied slightly out of breath, “I’m here for a hearing or something.” “A disciplinary hearing?” the receptionist asked. “Sure,” I answered, rolling my eyes. Were there really other kinds? “Very good. Please take a seat and Mistress Annabelle will be with you shortly,” she replied, gesturing both cuffed hands towards the benches that ran along the entire length of the wall. I walked over to the nearest bench seat and sat down, still shivering from the cold dank air. The receptionist returned to typing feverishly on her keyboard. I crossed my legs, attempting to cover myself as much as possible. Less than a minute later, a loud buzzer sounded, causing the guards in the back of the room to enter the office. Moments later, they reappeared through the doorway dragging a naked bald guy in a red collar. He shouted into a large ball-gag, twisting and tugging to escape their grip, but the guards seemed relatively unfazed. Behind them followed Annabelle, dressed in a tight-fitting purple pantsuit. “Don’t fight it, Mr. Leland. Be a good boy and you’ll find that a week in the kennel will go rather quickly,” Annabelle said patronizingly. She followed them as they walked past the front desk and exited the building. Leaning out the doorway, she shouted after him- “I’ll stop by in a few hours to make sure you’re settled in properly.” With a satisfied grin, Annabelle let the door close and walked back to the semi-circled desk. “Mistress,” the receptionist greeted her quietly, bowing her head. Annabelle ignored her picking up the clipboard. “Who’s next?” She asked. “Me,” I replied, standing to my feet. My face was expressionless and I attempted to look as tough as possible. Turning toward me, Annabelle’s face suddenly lit up. “Miss O’Connell!” she replied. “Long time no see!” “What’s the deal with this?” I challenged, pointing to my collar. “It’s only temporary, dear,” she replied. “I’ll remove it once you’ve signed our agreement.” “Was it really necessary to force me to come here naked?” I asked. Annabelle paused and looked back at the clipboard in her hand. “Hannah, Is there a reason that Miss O’Connell’s name isn’t on the sign-in sheet?” She asked the receptionist, placing it in front of her. “I’m… sorry, Mistress. I forgot to ask her to sign in,” the girl replied sheepishly. Annabelle leaned forward, placing both hands on the desk. “You forgot?” she asked. “Yes, Mistress,” the girl replied. “What do you suppose might help you not forget in the future?” Annabelle asked, leaning forward and placing her hands on the desk. The girl hesitated. “I don’t know, Mistress,” she answered quietly. “I think I know just the thing that will help,” Annabelle answered. She reached forward and pressed a button on Hannah’s office phone. “Security, this is Annabelle. Please send a replacement for Hannah at reception.” “Yes ma’am,” a male voice on the other end answered. “Do you have a preference for her replacement?” “Uh, yes, actually. Shannon if she’s available.” “Yes, ma’am,” the male voice replied. “And please send a guard to escort Hannah to the kennel,” Annabelle added. “She’ll be spending the rest of her shift in corrections-“ “Oh good grief,” I said, storming over to the desk. Annabelle’s eyebrows raised in surprise as I grabbed a pen and scribbled my fake name on the sign-in sheet. “She didn’t forget to ask me. I refused.” Annabelle stared at me for a moment, contemplating her next words. “Is this true, Hannah?” She asked. The girl named Hannah hesitated, her eyes glancing nervously back and forth from me to Annabelle. Then she gave a slight nod. “Yes, Mistress,” she whispered. Annabelle and I continued staring at each other until the male voice on the phone interrupted us, “Um, is that all ma’am?” After a pause, a sinister smile came across Annabelle’s face. “Yes,” she answered. “In fact, please inform Shannon that she will be my new acting secretary. Hannah has been reassigned.” “Yes ma’am,” the voice replied, followed by a click and dial tone. “Oh come on,” I interjected. “I just told you that it was my fault. You don’t have to be a bitch.” “Hannah, repeat after me,” Annabelle said coldly, still staring at me. “Miss O’Connell-“ The girl stared down at the desk and softly replied, “Miss O’Connell-” “Thanks to your insubordination-” Annabelle continued. “Thanks to your insubordination-” Hannah repeated. “I have lost a coveted desk job that I worked very hard for.” “I have lost a coveted desk job that I worked very hard for.” “You may have thought that you were helping me by lying on my behalf-” “You may have thought that you were helping me by lying on my behalf-” “-but you have actually made my circumstances much… much worse.” “-but you have actually made my circumstances much much worse.” The girl’s voice was now shaky and it sounded as if she was now on the verge of tears. I glared silently into Annabelle’s eyes, feeling my face flush with anger. “What was originally set to be a mere two hours of corrections-” Annabelle continued. “What was originally set to be a mere two hours of corrections-” the girl echoed. “-has now become 24 hours in the kennel.” “Please, Mistress- I didn’t mean to-” Hannah interjected softly. “-has now become 48 hours in the kennel,” Annabelle corrected herself. Hannah took a deep sigh and continued, “-has now become 48 hours in the kennel.” “Followed by a permanent reassignment as…” Annabelle tilted her head, staring off into the distance in thought, “resident at the Laughing Place”. Hannah began to whimper. “Please no,” she begged in a whisper. “Finish it,” Annabelle ordered forcefully. Hannah continued, now in tears, “Followed by a permanent reassignment as resident at the Laughing Place.” Hannah sobbed and hung her head in misery. From behind me, I heard the wooden door creak open. A security guard escorted a young petite Indian woman to stand next to us. “Guard, please see that Hannah finds her way to the kennel,” Annabelle said. “I’ll be along shortly to see that she’s processed and settled in.” “This isn’t necessary,” I said forcefully, “She didn’t do anything wrong!” Annabelle’s finger suddenly shot up to my face. “Another word and her kennel visit turns into a week.” I could do nothing but grit my teeth and scowl. I couldn’t ever remember hating someone so much. She was torturing this poor girl just to hurt me. After witnessing me vouch for Katie last night, she had obviously realized that I was an empathetic person. And now, she was using that against me… The guard grabbed Hannah by the arm and pulled her to her feet. “I’m sorry, Mistress,” she said through tears as she was tugged away to the door. Annabelle ignored her as she walked past A few moments later, both Hannah and the guard disappeared through the door and into the rain. The girl named Shannon sat down in the empty seat behind the desk without saying anything. “If I remember correctly, poor Hannah had only one request listed on her application. Please no tickling.” Annabelle gave an exaggerated shudder. “She’s not going to enjoy the Laughing Place.” Then, Annabelle turned her gaze back to me. “Okay!” she said, cheerfully, as if nothing had happened. “Follow me to my office.” She promptly turned and walked toward the office door. I followed slowly, shocked at how someone could turn such cruelty on and off with such ease. This woman had to be the closest thing I’d ever witnessed to downright evil. We made our way to the end of the hallway where Annabelle opened the door and motioned me inside. Trying my best to appear confident, I walked in without hesitation. Annabelle closed the door behind me and crossed to the tall leather chair behind her desk. I had no choice but to stand facing opposite her, seeing as how there was no chair for me to sit in. I imagine this was intentional to force her guests to stand in her presence. “You’re an enigma, Miss O’Connell,” Annabelle continued, lifting her spectacles to her face and looking at her computer screen. “Looking at your records from last year, I see that your previous owner graded you highly submissive. ‘A natural-born subby,’ he writes. ‘Never resists, never talks back, never objects. A true slave at heart.’” Annabelle looked up from her computer and studied me. “It almost as if he’s describing an entirely different person…” My heart skipped beat as I felt a pit form in my stomach. Did she know that I wasn’t actually Jodie? I held my breath, attempting to appear as expressionless as humanly possible. “People change,” I replied. Annabelle stared back at me and said nothing for several seconds. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. My mind raced, suspecting the worst. “Clearly,” she finally replied, breaking her stare with me. “Well, whatever the reason is behind your new misguided sense of self-worth, I’m thoroughly looking forward to being done with it.” She picked up a folder on her desk and slid it toward me. I stepped forward and picked it up. “Inside are transfer documents for Ms. Brandy Michaels,” she said. “Once you’ve signed on the last page, she’ll be transferred into my custody.” “And Katie?” I replied as I opened the folder. “Yes,” Annabelle said, removing her spectacles and leaning back in her desk chair, “Katie Huff… After several hours of research and legal consultation, I’m afraid that there is… no mechanism in place for directly transferring Miss Hoff into your custody.” “What?” I challenged, blinking dumbfounded at her. “We had an agreement-” “I’m aware of what we agreed to, but I misspoke,” Annabelle replied, almost sounding exhausting. “I’ve looked into every possible option and believe me when I say-” “That’s just it. I don’t believe you,” I cut her off. “Look, it’s a simple trade. Brandy for Katie. It’s what you agreed to.” “The problem…” she began, taking a breath to seemingly compose her impatience, “-is that she is not mine to trade. She is not anybody’s to trade.” “Oh for fuck’s sake,” I replied. “Then, don’t trade her to me. Just let her come stay with me. I don’t give a shit about custody.” “That’s not possible,” Annabelle answered. “Why?” I challenged. “Because she has already been tried, convicted, and sentenced for being in possession of illicit drugs,” she explained. “She pleaded guilty in front of our magistrate and was sentenced to 21 days in corrections.” I stared at her with my jaw open. This was all so absurd! “So, you’re telling me that there’s no way to commute her sentence? She’s just stuck in the kennel for the next month?” I asked. “There is a way,” Annabelle answered. “But it would require her officially change her status from a staff member to contestant. “So, what’s the problem?” I asked. “The problem is that she did not participate in the hunt,” Annabelle fired back in an aggressive voice. “She wasn’t a contestant during the hunt. Therefore, having never been captured, she cannot be treated as property. If she were a contestant who’d been caught, she could be traded. If she’d been collected by a gamesman, we’d have been happy to trade her to you. But she doesn’t belong to us. And even if she became a contestant at this point, she still wouldn’t be ours to trade.” “This is so fucked up,” I muttered, stroking my hair out of my face and staring at the ceiling. “Believe it or not, these rules were put in place to shield employees from unwilling enslavement by their superiors. They protect the staff from being traded or gifted against their will,” Annabelle explained. I simply stood there in silence, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. Annabelle finally broke the silence. “According to our attorneys, there’s only one solution to this predicament.” I looked back at her, waiting for her to explain. “Which is…” “Katie would need to officially become a contestant…” Annabelle paused before finishing with, “And submit herself into the auction this evening. At that point, you would have the opportunity to buy her.” “What?” I spat incredulously. Annabelle simply stared back at me with her hands crossed on the desk in front of her. “No way! Are you serious? I’m not gonna let Katie be auctioned off. Are you crazy? What happens if I lose?!” “Then she’d belong to someone else,” Annabelle replied matter of factly. “But that’s unlikely, given your newly acquired fortune. The most any contestant has ever been auctioned for is 800 grand. And let’s just say that she was significantly more endowed than Miss Huff.” “This is so fuckin’ ridiculous,” I said, rubbing my forehead in thought. “There has to be another way.” “There’s not,” Annabelle replied bluntly. “If you want Katie, this is your only option.” I shook my head in disbelief. Annabelle waited patiently as her words sunk in. “So, what’s it gonna be?” she asked. “Hold up-” I replied suddenly, stepping toward her and placing my hands on the desk. “If you’re telling me that I’m going to need to essentially buy Katie at the auction, why would I ever sign Brandy over to you? What kind of deal is that?” “You’ll sign over Brandy to me because if you don’t, I won’t authorize Katie’s status change. You won’t be able to bid on her tonight because she won’t be eligible to be auctioned off. She’ll be forced to serve out the entirety of her 21-day sentence in the kennel and you’ll remain on probation for the next 42 hours.” I scowled at her and opened my mouth to object. “Careful-” Annabelle interrupted before I could utter a word. “Your mouth has gotten you into trouble at every turn. Contrary to what you might believe, I’ve bent over backwards to make this deal for you. It’s not the solution you dreamt of, but it’s all you’ve got if you want your girl.” She was right. My impulses to mouth off really hadn’t benefited me up to this point. In fact, they’d mostly managed to cause more trouble for everyone… As much as I hated to admit it, my smart-assery wasn’t helping anyone. I needed to start choosing my battles more wisely. “Sign the paper, Jodie,” Annabelle pressed, holding out a pen. I hesitated, studying the pen in her outstretched hand. ...

story continued from chapter 10 Chapter 11: Hun (Brandy’s Story) Soaking wet from the rain, I tore through the trees, hurtling over fallen branches and roots. A latex hood with cutouts for my eyes, nose, and mouth encompassed my head, keeping the hair out of my eyes. As frustrating as it was to be naked, collared, ring-gagged, crotch-roped with a rubber G-string, and have my arms restrained behind my back, such hindrances had little affect on my speed. And thanks to a lifetime of walking outside barefoot, my feet were far too callused to be daunted by the occasional sharp stone or twig. I panted heavily as I scanned my surroundings. I needed to find the unlocking station! Once I could free my arms, I knew this would be a completely different ballgame. Hearing what sounded like the loud snap of a twig behind me, I instantly ducked and scuttled behind the nearest tree. I held my breath for several seconds, listening intently for any signs of life. Hearing my pursuers through the latex hood was proving to be quite the challenge. Not to mention the torrential downpour that drowned out virtually every other sound in the entire forest. After a few seconds, I inched my head outward to see around the tree trunk. All I could see was rain and heavily wooded forest. I exhaled, standing once more to my feet. Just then, I felt something cold and hard press against the nape of my neck. “Game over,” said a deep voice. Dammit, I thought. I recognized the object pressed against my neck as the tip of a rifle. Unlike most rifles, however, this one did not fire bullets or rounds. Instead, this rifle emitted infrared beams. Sounds harmless, right? Wrong. In any normal setting, being hit with an infrared beam would be as consequential being shined on by a flashlight. But this was no normal setting. The wearable technology I was sporting had basically turned me into a target for laser tag. If an infrared beam were to make contact with any part of my body, it would trigger an electrical response in my collar and butt-plug. Oh, didn’t I tell you? The rubber G-string I was wearing had a built in butt-plug. Fucked up, huh? So, upon being hit with an infrared beam from one of these rifles, 3,000 volts of electricity would be distributed simultaneously to both my neck and anus. I sighed and allowed my head to drop forward in a sign of defeat. Statistically, this technique has tested the highest probability of prompting an attacker to lower his weapon. As poor luck would have it, however, the tip of the rifle remained firmly pressed against my neck. Time for plan B. In one swift move, I turned my head to the side and kicked off of the tree in front of me with my dominant foot. The result was me hurtling backwards and colliding forcefully into my assailant. With my head turned, the tip of the tip of the gun slid across my wet skin and beneath my ear. With the weapon no longer aimed at me, I had milliseconds to execute my next move. My assailant had been knocked off balance, but was still on his feet. This needed to change. Without hesitation, I parried left nailed him in the side of his knee with my heel. Crying out in pain, he dropped hard to the ground. Seizing what would likely be my only opportunity to knock him out, I spun and leapt into a tornado kick. No sooner did I leave the ground, my assailant managed to aim his rifle towards me and pull the trigger. Agonizing pain shot through me from my neck and anus, causing me to suddenly lose all muscle function. Instead of rotating my torso and landing the kick at his jawline, I merely collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes, twitching and convulsing in the mud. Keeping his finger firmly planted on the trigger, I watched helplessly as he stood to his feet and casually stepped behind me. Dammit, I thought. Did he have to keep the trigger pulled? I was completely powerless as I felt him grab me by the back of my collar and yank me to my knees. Once I was kneeling in a doggie-style position, my assailant finally released the trigger. I moaned in relief as the electric shocks subsided. But though the pain had ceased, the grimace on my face remained as I braced for the fucking that was soon to follow. I gave an involuntary gasp as I felt him tug my G-string to the side and plunge forcefully inside of me. My eyes suddenly shot wide open. Dammit, the cock was huge! Huge and ribbed… Fortunately, the rain had kept my vagina fairly lubricated. Otherwise, a cock of this size would have gone in quite uncomfortably. I clenched my fists beneath the armbinder, digging my fingernails into my palms. I growled into my gag as I felt him slide in and out. In and out. After about a minute of this, I heard a loud whistle to my right. My assailant pulled out of me and released the back of my collar, causing me to topple forward onto the ground. “Bastard!” I yelled, face down in the mud. But with the ring-gag in my mouth, it came out more like, “Aathawd!” I rolled onto my side and laid panting in a fetal position. Wouldn’t you know, he pulled out just as I was beginning to actually get something pleasurable out of it… My assailant straightened up and stood at attention with hands by his side and feet together. I glared at the large black rubber dildo that was strapped to his naval. Why the fuck did it need to be so large? I wondered angrily. After a few seconds, several men stepped toward me through the tree line. In front was an older man in his late 70’s dressed in military attire and a rain-repellent trench coat. I recognized him as General Leonard Hersh. “Congratulations, Sergeant,” he said in a growly voice. “You’ve been claimed. Again.” General Hersh stared down at me the way a dog owner looks down at an accident on the kitchen floor. Despite his reputation as a stoic and emotionless leader, his gaunt face was etched with dissatisfaction at my repeated failures to overpower my assailant. I dropped my head in a mixture of shame and resentment. This was my fourth time being captured this morning. This meant that I had been raped four times by a fellow navy seals wearing strap-ons. As debasing as that was, it was far more infuriating to be expected to complete a task that was so implausible. There was simply no way I’d be able to get the jump on an armed attacker while my arms were restrained behind my back! Real field conditions or not, this exercise was fucking rigged. Hold up… Before I go any further into this story, I should probably introduce myself. My name is Debra Nolan. I’m 26 years of age, blonde, 5 foot 10 inches, and 139 pounds of pure muscle. My code name is Delta November Foxtrot and my mission alias is Brandy Michaels. About a month and a half ago, I was hand selected to join a special operations task force codenamed Mantis. I was one of 5 women tasked with going undercover inside an international human trafficking syndicate. While I’m hardly a stranger to special ops task forces, nothing could have prepared me for the training I’d receive for this mission. Over the past month, under the command of General Hersh, I had endured just about every type of sexual stress test imaginable. But given the sexual nature of the role I’d be playing, this particular area of training would prove to be critical. Sexual endurance was essential to success. The objective of this mission was to infiltrate the trafficking syndicate, duplicate data files from their main servers, and then get the hell out. Simple enough, right? I wish I could agree. The fact of the matter is- our statisticians awarded this mission a mere 20% chance of success. Typically, special ops won’t even consider missions with less than 60%. But as you might have imagined, extenuating circumstances played a big role in this particular case. Almost one year ago to the week, technology industries celebrated the invention of AI quantum encryption. In non-geek speech, this translates to artificial intelligence-based security software that renders devices and databases virtually unhackable. If you’re someone who’s thinking that this sounds like a good thing, you should probably think again. In eight months from now, the anonymous creator of this software, who goes by Harpocrates, vowed to make his creation open-source and available to the world. When that happens, every criminal on the planet will have been given the gift of electronic invisibility. As someone in the military who relies on data interception to keep the world safe, this poses obvious complications. But regardless of how you feel about the Patriot Act and FISA, a crime wave was almost certainly on the horizon. The announcement of the software’s creation sent shockwaves through Washington. The joint armed forces suddenly had a hard deadline for making their move against their highest priority criminal organizations. Kicking the proverbial can down the road risked the possibility of watching these cartels and syndicates become virtual ghosts. The clock was now ticking. That’s where I come in. My infiltration into this particular syndicate had begun with my enrollment in a ‘hunger games’ style hunt. Along with roughly 200 other women from across the world, I would be transported to an undisclosed location in the woods, believed to be somewhere along the continental southeastern coast. Here, we would be naked and restrained in similar fashion to how I currently found myself. Wealthy male hunters armed with infrared rifles would proceed to scour the woods, hoping to capture and claim one of us as their own live-in sex slaves for the following three months. ...

“I’m off to work now, see you later” said Zoe in a raised voice. “Okay, bye” shouted Emily from her bedroom. Emily heard the door close and with that, she was alone in the flat. She was sharing student accommodation with three other people - Zoe being one of them. The other two were Stephen and Robbie, who hadn’t long left for the quiz night at the pub. Emily watched as Zoe entered her car and drove off, out of sight. A few hours of peace were now guaranteed. ...

Katya is obsessed with small spaces she wants to be forced into ever smaller things and her friend is more than willing to indulge her. “I have seen something in a shop window Vanessa that I want to buy can you come with me to advise me.” “I bet it’s something small.” “Yes very but i’m not sure I will fit in it.” “Knowing you it will be a struggle.” ...

The large man grabs my legs and wraps them around him. I keep them there because I know I’m supposed to. Fuck dolls are supposed to stay as they’re put, and as the permanent marker scrawled across my exposed stomach reads, I am a “fuck doll,” at least for the night. The stranger unzips his pants and roughly shoves himself inside of me. I actually love the way he feels inside of me, but manage to resist the urge to gasp and moan. “This one doesn’t feel too bad,” he calls to one of his friends nearby, as he pounds in and out of me, making my pussy wetter and wetter. He doesn’t even look at me while he makes me feel amazing. A fuck doll doesn’t deserve to be looked at. Still, I’m aware that a couple of other people at Master’s party are looking at me right now, as I silently fight not to move and not to cum, a task this man is making harder and harder. He’s big and he keeps pounding into me even deeper, until finally my pussy is filled with a hot stream of his seed, and he immediately tosses my legs down and leaves me on the ground, wanting to moan and beg him for more. But I know my place. “You should try her,” he advises his friend before departing to get food, or mingle, or be with a worthier girl. I know Master has private rooms where his better girls are allowed, girls who are allowed to do more things. But tonight, I’m just a fuck doll. It feels like mere seconds before this next man is on top of me, and attempting to fill me with his rather small dick. He doesn’t look attractive, and part of me just wants him to get away, but I willingly take his dick all the same. After all, it gives me a chance to recover from how hard the previous man had been on my poor pussy. I know tonight will be a lot of harsh, nonstop fucking, and my mind wearies on the thought of not being able to move or cum the whole night. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to last. Even this man is starting to push me to the edge. I bite my tongue to keep from shouting out when he cums inside me. For a small man, he came a lot, the powerful streams almost eliciting my own climax, but I know I mustn’t. Next, an attractive middle-aged man decides to play with me. He actually looks at me and smiles, calming me down a little, before he disgustedly looks away. I wish I could ask him if I’ve done something wrong, but before I can worry about it for too long, he’s ravishingly biting and sucking my right nipple while he roughly gropes my left breast and runs his thumbnail in circles over my left nipple. It feels so fucking good. I can’t help it. I moan. Quietly, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. He chuckles a little, and stops, releasing my now-burning nipples, and stares at me. He winks, and then continues his assault on my breasts. I know he knows how much trouble I would be in if Master finds out I was making sounds, but I trust him, and I can’t really help it, so I keep quietly moaning. When my breasts begin to ache to the point I can’t bear, he graciously stops. He looks my whole body up and down; I am completely naked except for the writing on my stomach. He slowly reaches his hand up my thigh, teasing me, knowing how much I want him, and lightly passes his finger over my slit, where my own juices are mixed with the other two mens, and I’m pathetically soaked. “My, my, aren’t you just begging to be fucked,” he soothingly says as he wipes his finger off on my stomach in delicate swirls. He takes my lack of response as a yes, and soon undoes his pants and starting fucking me, slowly at first. I think he is still just teasing me. He plays in my entrance, and slowly enters me just a little more at a time, but I know I’m not allowed to move. I’m not allowed to push myself closer no matter how much I want him fully inside me. Finally he’s inside me, and he starts fucking me hard, steadily increasing his speed. I feel an orgasm building inside of me, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t ask him to stop: not only can fuck dolls not speak, but I don’t want him to stop at all. I can’t cum either though. Master would be furious. As I start to lose control, he whispers in my ear “You can cum. Master won’t know.” That’s all the encouragement I need as I let my orgasm come, doing my best to hide it so anyone else watching won’t know how bad of a slut I am. The man continues to fuck me deep and hard, prolonging my orgasm and my chances of getting caught. It’s not until after I finish completely that the man pulls out. I am surprised he hasn’t cum inside me, until he stands above me and smirks before letting jets of his hot, amazing seed cover my body. I can’t help but smile, even though his gaze has now shifted elsewhere, and he soon walks away. The next hour or so goes similarly, with man after man just using me, and treating me like the worthless toy I am, and me being a good little fuck doll, following all my rules, even when some guys make me want to cum more than anything. Of course, some make me want to run away and hide more than anything. But I don’t. I am a good fuck doll. Except for when that man uses me again. Thank god he does, because I’m desperate to cum, and I do cum on him again, grateful for the escape from my punishment. After he’s done, it is time for dinner, and all the guests sit at elegant tables covered in splendid white tablecloths. I lay on the floor with my legs spread apart, as I know Master wants. I find myself surprised at how wet I’m getting during dinner, and I want to wipe away the numerous juices that are now flowing down my thigh, my wetness adding to their movement. But I’m not allowed to move. After dinner, I get fucked by guy after guy again. At one point, I see Master walking across the room, and I look at him, trying to tell him with my eyes that I want this to end, trying to beg him to not let these strangers do this to me anymore. I only want him. Master sees me staring and angrily walks over, while some guy continues to fuck my pussy. Master roughly grabs my hair and jerks my head to the side, so I’m not facing him. “Fuck dolls aren’t good enough to look at Master,” He whispers before walking away for the night. Two more times before the night ends, the man that agreed not to tell Master comes back, and I get to cum like the naughty slut I am. He doesn’t say anything anymore, doesn’t bother teasing my nipples, or even looking at me. But I need to come so badly by the time he shows up, that he barely has time to fuck me at all before I climax. When everyone leaves, I am still on the floor. I wait for Master. After what feels like an eternity, He comes into the room and looks at me. “You are a mess,” He announces, shaking his head and leaving the room. Moments later he comes back with a naked young man. I recognize him as one of Master’s subs, but I don’t know his name. “Sebastian, clean my fuck doll,” Master states, as the young man gets on the floor next to me, and starts licking up my thigh, sucking some of the cum that coats my filthy body. His tongue feels amazing, especially as he starts licking up the juices from my sopping pussy, and flicking his tongue around my sensitive clit. I manage not to cum, though, and soon the man moves on to the rest of my body, licking me completely clean as Master watches. Once my entire body is cleaned, Master brings me into his bedroom to “speak privately” with me. I see he is fully hard as he talks, which admittedly distracts me. “How did you enjoy being a filthy fuck doll?” he asks with a sweetness in his eyes. I hesitate with my answer, but then decide it’s best to be honest with Master. “Not very much, Sir. I only want You.” “Is that so?” He starts to stroke himself. “And I bet you’re tired of not getting to move?” “Yes, sir,” “Would you like to move?” “Yes, sir,” I smile widely as he gives me a nod, and I start sucking his enormous cock. I swirl my tongue around, enjoying His taste, and then take him even deeper. He’s not like the others at the party. Everyone else was a stranger, but He means the world to me. I start to fuck him with the back of my throat until I gag, but I push through it and deepthroat him hard, my pussy getting soaking wet again. He moans a little, and I delight greatly in His pleasure. “Do you remember why I made you a fuck doll tonight, slut?” I release his cock so I can answer, but he grabs my head and shoves his cock back into my throat, fucking me even harder and deeper. Tears stream down my eyes as I gag and struggle to breathe, but I feel more and more turned on. “Did I say you could stop?!” He barks. Even though he’s not even touching my pussy, I still feel all the fucking from that day and Master down my throat, and I start to need release again. “I made you a fuck doll because when I told you to cum, you didn’t. You tried to fake it, you whore.” He fucks my throat even harder as I keep crying and start getting dizzy. “This time, when I say to cum, you better fucking cum, my bitch.” He’s merciless to my throat, and I’m just begging he’ll tell me to cum already. “Cum for me, whore,” he demands, and I let myself cum, screaming out with pleasure as I do. It feels nice to be loud again. Master cums into me, and this sends me cuming again, a feeling of euphoria completely consuming me. Master deeply kisses me and I kiss him back. His lips are strong, but gentle, and I know he’s done torturing me for now. Or so I thought. “You’ll be a fuck doll at my next party too,” He says to my surprise. “What? But I came! I did everything you said!” “Did you? My little spy says you came for him four times tonight.” I look down, ashamed. He lightly kisses me on the cheek. “It’s okay, doll. Just don’t let it happen at all next time and you won’t have to be a fuck doll again.” “Yes, Sir.”

story continues from part twenty-four Chapter 25 “It’s not right, Suzi. You know that tomorrow is your wedding, and your plan to spend the night with Paul is just wrong!” Mom was giving me the business about my decision to spend the night before our wedding in Paul’s bed. “Mom, I’m going to say this once and only once: my life started when I met Paul. I have no intention of pretending that I want to even spend one night without him by my side. Everybody knows I’ve been living here with him. Why should I spend tonight alone?” ...

story continues from part sixteen Chapter 17 I was glad that the table was the old wooden one from the old days as the clamps on Suzi’s nipples where scratching the top. Her body was writhing with pleasure as she neared the top of her plateau. I could see it in her little hip thrusts as she pushed back against the crotch rope, and it aroused me. I loved the way she sounded; her animal grunts and groans. They were so base and wild that I decided to prolong the sweet agony and let go of the crotch rope; stopping the dildo at the same time. The hood moved as she listened to my retreating foot steps. ...

story continues from part twenty-three Chapter 24 The candlelight shone in Suzi’s eyes as the waiter bent before her offering the dessert tray. She looked stunningly happy. She was dressed in a low-cut dark number, her hair silky and smooth glistening and reflecting her healthy tan. Sun beds are quite useful in a British winter. “Well darling, not long now,” I smiled at her as she declined a Pavlova and asked for ice cream instead. ...

story continues from part twenty Chapter 21 ‘Oh dear,’ I thought as I slipped a finger deep inside her anus. She had such an embarrassed look on her flushed sweaty face. “Double or quits?” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Paul was offering me a chance to redeem myself, so how could I refuse? I mean, I wanted to be his obedient slave, and today’s failure had hurt my cause. So I agreed to a double or nothing dare. With my determination, I was sure that this time I could win. Besides, now the edge was off. That orgasm had slowed the fires a tiny bit. And if I failed, how bad could twenty be? ...

story continues from part twenty-one Chapter 22 ‘Whoa, girl,’ I thought as she screamed out her joy. Specifying the leather seats again pleased me, as they wouldn’t show any of the stain that her pussy juice would leave. The whole car stank of sex. Suzi was so far gone that she hadn’t noticed that we had pulled up to the barn. I picked up the bag out of the boot and walked inside, leaving her to recover in the car. The sweet smell of cows on hay swept over me as I walked up to the hayloft. The warmth these barns provide never failed to amaze me. ...

My name is Linda Kennedy. I’m 22, blonde and with an attractive figure, even if I say so myself. I have no family, my parents having died the previous year in an accident. To help overcome my grief, I dived into my studies at university and had recently graduated with a degree in hospitality management. Oh yes, I discovered at an early age that I prefer my own sex to men. In fact, if it hadn’t been for someone walking their dog several years ago, I would have been raped. That experience has made me extremely nervous in any male company. ...

story continued from part two Part 3: The Pony Girls Play Some More “You should try it on” I physically jumped at the unexpected voice. I turned round to see Elizabeth standing in the half-open doorway to my office. A doorway I should have latched securely rather than just closing it. I was holding the heavyweight leather harness that she had seen in use at least twice. On both occasions it had been wrapped and buckled tightly about my muscular lover. Or rather he had been tightly wrapped and buckled into it. It was never intended to be a simple toy. Once inside it and all those gleaming buckles and dark leather straps were fastened you were it’s prisoner until such time as you were released. I was very firmly the dominant in our relationship, but something about it spoke to a deep, submissive side of me that I hated to admit existed. Yes, damn my soul, as it hung there wafting the smell of fresh leather to my nose I was getting turned on. As I held it up the straps were curving themselves towards me as if both inviting me while reaching out to entrap me. ...

It was Saturday, around 10:00 a.m., and Emily Walker sat on the couch of the small house she rented watching television and drinking coffee. She was dressed in loose light-gray workout pants with thick pink socks. She wore a sky-blue t-shirt that came to just above her navel, exposing her flat stomach. The tight t-shirt hugged body like a second skin, emphasizing her breasts, making it obvious that she wore no bra. She had her long legs pulled up in front of her on the couch, and she peered over them at the television. She shook her head a bit to clear her bangs from her eyes, setting her blond, asymmetrical bob in motion. ...

Leaving work, I waved goodbye to the receptionist and walked out onto the college campus. The field was covered by students sunning themselves in the cool spring weather. I couldn’t help but notice that many of them were encased in sleek chrome fembot suits. Some were clearly doing a bit more than sunning but I laughed it off as I hopped on my bike and headed home. My wife and I were both professors at the university, and I served as the faculty advisor to the Greek system, including the newly formed STB sorority, which comprised of only fembot women. As I rode home, I thought back to the meeting I had had with one of girls. She came into my office clad from neck to feet in one of the suits, and upon me asking explained the various functions of it. I was intrigued and I told my wife about it, who also seemed excited at the possibility. As I parked my bike and walked inside, I could hear the faint hum of machinery as I opened the door. Suddenly, before me stood a beautiful fembot unlike any I had ever seen. She was sleek, chrome in color, and her lips stood out like any I had seen before. She came up to me and spoke. “Greetings, my name is Laurabot. Your wife Clara wanted me to wish you a happy anniversary and to allow you a chance to try out your gift. Sadly, she cannot be here this weekend due to a conference, but she has asked me to “experiment” with you. Welcome, May I take your coat Rachel?” Stoked that my wife had thought of such an amazing gift, I let her take my coat off, feeling her cold metal rubbing against me as she did so. Additionally, I took off all my clothing except for my latex underwear, ready to take her on. I lead her into our bedroom, which had enough BDSM gear to make anyone faint, and began to make out with her on the bed. I could feel her cool metal body over every inch, and the inside of her mount felt metallic and sexy. We experimented for a while, at one point I locked her to the chair and ate her out like there was no tomorrow. Her moans and mine sounded beautiful, and our pleasure kept on rising. At one point we took a rest and laid down on the bed, each of us with fingers in the others vagina. Moaning, I could feel her cool metal creating the perfect rhythm of pleasure down there. If we hadn’t been on leather sheets, we’d have stained everything. Even so as we stood up we were both slick from our pleasure juices. She then spoke. “Now that you have, shall we say, experienced the suit, are you ready to become one yourself?” Shaking my head yes, she lead me over to two new items in the corner. One looked strangely like a pod while the other had a box shape to it. I went up to the box and placed my hand out onto it as I felt Laurabot remove my underwear. As the door opened I stood there stark naked, really to be received. The arms inside grabbed me and turned me around. The last thing I saw was Laurabot smiling at me as the doors closed with a click. I felt my shoes being put on first as I was held in the air under my armpits. My feet were put up into the heels and slotted in before another piece of metal closed them in. They were sexy and sleek, just like the rest of my body would be. It slowly moved up my legs, with each piece having been custom fitted to my body. It would accent and improve all of my parts, making me an extremely sexy fembot. My joints were put into place, allowing me a full range of motion, just in a more robotic way. My leg components were a bit thicker, allowing me to have a much bigger, but natural looking, butt and hips. As it reached my private regions, I prepared for what was to come. The machine held nothing back, and it shoved a piece right into my butt, forcing me to stand up as straight as I could from the force. Additionally, sensors were placed throughout my vagina, and a large rod was shoved in. From the outside there was a slot that could be opened to allow more objects to increase the pleasure to the bot. I felt the machine test it, and would have fallen over from the test had it not been for the support from the arms. Next the corset came on. It was tight and fit so well against my body. It was layered into place, with each one getting progressively tighter. I was in heaven from the feelings. I love the feeling of tight clothing all around my supple body, it made me feel even more sexy and feminine. Next up came the boob plates. The main component curved upwards, giving me an even more perfectly fem body. I felt the back attach with a click as the front came on as well, leaving only my tits exposed. The machine covered my nipples with sensors and then covered my boobs in large cups, turning my B sized boots into sexy D cups. Combined with everything else, I now had the body of a true model, but I wasn’t finished yet. My arms were covered in more metal, and my hands were encased in perfect metal gloves, covering every inch. The fingers could also vibrate for extra sensations down there. The arms then grabbed my head and applied the next corset, before proceeding with the rest of the helmet. The faceplate was beautiful, and I opened wide as it shoved a piece into my mouth. The lips would function as mine would, my actual lips would just be kept open by the rod which now occupied my mouth. With a click the faceplate attached and I could feel various wires plug in. With a hiss all of the air was expelled from my suit and it went tight against every inch. Soon it activated all of the sensors for testing and I shook like crazy from the pleasure. I got two orgasms out before the machine slowed down and released me into the arms of Laurabot. “How do you feel?” “Amazing and Sexy.” She shook her head happily, “Good, now for the next stage. Due to spring break there is no school next week so your wife has asked me to lock you into the pod for the weekend until she returns. You’ll be trained as a dominatrix. Are you willing to do this?” So thrilled by the possibility, I said yes and was lead into the pod. She hit a few buttons and the pod opened, showing a sort of recliner with slots for my legs, arms, and head. She helped me into position and then activated the pod. Suddenly straps came out, locking me into place. Panels covered my arms and legs, leaving only my torso and head exposed. I looked like I was part of the machine, but it wasn’t done yet. Wires attached themselves all over my body, and I felt something enter me from the rear. As the door closed the pod lowered a piece down into my vagina, which opened up to accept it. My sides began vibrating, and the machine covered my boobs with a special pleasure piece. For my head, I was locked into a hood, leaving my face featureless from the outside. Another rod attached itself into my mouth, and I felt nutrients enter my body to keep me alive. ...

Brian’s phone rings. “Brian I have a really unusual request.” “I bet it’s not, nothing you want is unusual.” “I’m willing to bet to haven’t heard of this one before.” “Surprise me.” “Ok here goes, I need a girl who is willing to go into an alligator skin.” “That’s not what I was expecting, how is that unusual?” “It is because the girl would need to stay in the alligator skin for a couple of months.” ...

“Damn it, I can’t remember if we needed eggs” Kaylee said to herself as she walked around the supermarket. She reached for her mobile phone so she could call her boyfriend, Alex. She checked her bag. She checked her pockets. However, her mobile phone was nowhere to be found. “Crap. I must have left it at home. I’ll buy some more eggs just in case”. Little did she know how grave this error would be. And we aren’t talking about the eggs. ...

My Name is Echo, and I am a Fembot fetishist. I successfully parked my car in the lot and began walking down main street. It was a pretty night, crowds of people out enjoying the nightlife, many of them decked out in Fembot gear. It was amazing at how popular and widespread the suits had become, and as an owner of one of them I was one of many happy clients. Tonight was a special night as well. One of the new services Fembot Inc. had begun offering was group Fembot sessions, of which any number of people could rent out the specialty Fembot suite and enjoy a night of pure Fembot bliss. All six of us, all owners of suits, had arranged to rent use of the space for tonight’s activities. It would be a night of kinky and sensual pleasure, and as I rode the elevator up to the lobby I was shaking in anticipation. The doors opened onto an area with a front desk, where a lovely Fembot secretary was waiting for me. She greeted me in that sexy robotic voice, and let me know that the others had yet to arrive but that I was free to check out the space while I waited. Passing through the door, I entered the suite of rooms that was to be our play area for tonight. It opened onto a central living space, with a few couches and various pieces of kinky furniture laid out around. It was clear that this was a space meant for pleasure, and quick charging spaces were laid out around. A set of four doors lined the back wall. The first one was clearly for storage, and contained space for the more human wear as well as countless items of latex and other fetish clothing. Running my hand along one the cat suits, I had to resist the urge to put it on immediately, and wait until I had been robotized. The next room contained one large bed for all of us to pile onto, and the room next to it had a number of beds cordoned off as well as a few Fembot hookup chambers for self or dual pleasure. However, it was the last room that shined though all of them. Unlike the others it was circular, and around the center table were six capsules. I quickly realized that this was the transformation room, and that within those capsules the transformation would occur. They were crisp and white, and quite large considering that each held a robosuit ready for a user as well as space for the user themselves. All of them were closed in anticipation for everyone to show up. Knowing that I’d have to wait anyway, I returned to the couch and waited for the others to show up, shaking in anticipation. I didn’t have to wait long as soon Sarah and her trans girlfriend Bree showed up and joined me. They were both dressed up, and had clearly be out on a night on the town prior to this. We hugged and chatted for a bit as eventually Amy showed up, followed shortly by Anna and Kaylee. All of us had met via connections at the university, and soon found out about our mutual love of fembots. This night would be the first one in which we were all together outside of one of our houses in our suits, though we had done prior Fembot gatherings in our various homes. Since we had all arrived our secretary directed us to undress and store our clothing. You could feel the excitement in the room as bras and clothing flew around as we all desperately got changed. Soon we all returned the room stark naked, ready to begin the process. “Excellent bots, please follow me to your respective pods” She said, leading us to the transformation room. Above each pod one of our names had appeared, and we all moved towards our respective pods. I brushed past Bree and could feel her shaking with excitement. Upon arriving at our pods our host pressed a button on the wall and with a hiss, all of the pods opened up. In each was a comfortable seat and was molded to fit the body of the individual. With some help we each successfully laid down into our pods. I could only see up but I could hear the others giggling in excitement as they got comfortable in their pods. I soon heard out host call out “all clear” and suddenly all of the pods clicked closed. It was still somewhat light inside due to a few LEDS scattered around but otherwise it felt like I was in a different word. I didn’t have long to enjoy it though as the process of fembotization soon began. My seat was taken away and I was held in place by a number of arms, gripping me in cool unfeeling metal. The boots came on first, coming in tight around my feet. I could feel the coolness of the metal holding me in place as I shook with excitement. After they were firmly attached I felt wires plug into the bottoms of the heels, beginning to charge the suit. The knee joints and upper leg components surrounded my legs and held them tight. I began moaning from the pleasure of it on my body, and I knew the exciting part was coming up next. I stiffened up as my cod piece was attached to me. I knew that the long, phallic object would penetrate me but still function as a robotic vagina, allowing for double the pleasure. Meanwhile my butt was made to look larger and rounder. I braced myself against my restraints as the machine penetrated me. It was so cold but at the same time I felt like I could taste the metal inside of me. It was a feeling I never got over, and just putting on the suit made me feel even more powerful. There was something in becoming robotic that made me feel both more feminine and also so much stronger. These thoughts soon left my head as I felt the corset being attached. Fitting somewhat loose at first, it had been made to my measurements. Now that my body was mostly covered in that black, metallic surface, I felt the restraints on my arm release and hold me up by my body. My arms came next, feeling the tightness of the metal surround my arms and my fingers covered in the flexible metal. Wiggling my fingers, I could feel the sensation of metal in all of its glory. Next my back, containing an extra spinal cord and battery, was maneuvered into place at the same time my hands were locked to the sides of the container. I lifted my had as my boob plate was moved into position, the machine carefully ensuring my boobs fit into their respective containers. The suit also would make my B cup boobs turn into a pair of D cup beauties. I felt a click and my body shook as it locked into position. As my shoulders were covered and my neck corset fitted into place, I could feel the machine wiring me up. A charger was placed and penetrated me, boosting the power of the suit. I was plugged in, ready to finish and be the machine I knew I was. The headpiece came in two parts. A back component that would cover up the back of the head as well as containing an extra brain, and a front faceplate. My eyes would simply be green, and I prepared my mouth to accept the mouth rod. The back piece clicked into place, and I could hear the programming boot up. Next the machine covered my eyes with a visor, and I began to read the binary code, beginning the process of Fembot programming. My mouth was opened and accepted the rod, sucking it as the faceplate clicked into place. Suddenly all of the air was expelled from the suit and it grew tight around me. At the same time every vibration went off, allowing me to be more accepting of my programming. I eagerly read every word and every zero. “I am a sexbot, I am a Fembot, I live to be programmed.” ...

Jasmine and Greg have been going our for months and Greg had moved into her house full time they are both very like minded and have a really good relationship. “How was your day today Jasmine.” “Really good I did a bit of shopping and visited a friend, so yes I had a very good day what about you.” “Yes I had a good day as well it probably wasn’t as good as yours though just delivering stuff to rich people. Ok what rubbish have you bought today?” ...

Story continued from part four Part 5: The Latex Nun. (or Bad Habits) Snake swallowing female It was time to feed my very special pet again, I had grown to love my own pet snake that we kept down in the basement in an enclosure, this was the modified snake that my husband had bought me to fulfill my fantasies of being devoured by a snake, but one that I could experience over and over, as the snake was genetically made to digest only the special feeding gel and not my flesh and bones. The last time I had him bind me and feed me to the snake, the video we made was of me dressed as a harem girl, and I was being punished by being fed to the snake, it was very erotic for me being forced to be eaten, and I did cum several times whilst the snake was swallowing me, and also more whilst I was deep down inside of the snake’s belly while it digested the feeding gel that coated my bound body. The video was one of those that I watched over and over again, my fingers rubbing at my hot, wet sex and giving me more shuddering orgasms as the events unfolded on the screen. This time I was feeding the snake while my husband was away on business, he would be gone for the whole week, so I thought why not spend some quality time inside of the snake. Let’s see, I had been a maid before, and then the harem girl, so what would I dress up as this time? I did this more to tease & arouse both myself and my husband, who would be watching the video I would make to show him what I had been up to while he was away. I looked through the wardrobe at the costumes that I had managed to gather, knowing that I would be wearing them to entice my partner in bed, but now also to star in our little video sessions we have when I feed the snake. There was a schoolgirl outfit. I took this off of the rack and held it against my body, ‘Mmm’ I thought, ‘Not today!’ Placing it back, I moved over several others until I found the sexy nun’s habit made of all things from latex, “Now that’s wicked!” I said to myself. I had originally worn this to a ‘Vicars & Tarts’ fancy dress party, the guys dressed as tarts while the girls were the vicars and nuns. ‘That will do for today’, I thought. Then I also thought that I would wear it with no underwear, just like a naughty nun would be. With the outfit for today’s feeding session chosen, I went around the house making sure that the place was secure, as I would be down in the basement inside of the snake for the night. Once I was happy with things upstairs, I headed down to see my special friend in the basement. There was the snake and upon seeing me, nudged the glass wall of its enclosure, letting me know that it was hungry and wanting to be fed. “Patience my scaly friend, I will be feeding you shortly,” I said, my hand touching the other side of the glass where the snake’s head was. I was already dressed in my costume for this session, the latex swishing as I moved around the room, the light glistening off of the material; I prepared the video cameras, lighting etc., and made sure that everything was ready, as I had done many times now it seemed part of the pre-feeding ritual. With the cameras now rolling I stepped out of view and then walked back in and started to act as my character. I walked into the shot of the camera and looked around, my latex habit brushing against my naked flesh underneath arousing me. Then I turned and spotted the snake, “Oh my!” I exclaimed, “It is the devil’s disciple come to test this poor nun.” My hands now at my face in mock shock, “Oh please, what should I do?” Yes not very original, but I was ad-libbing here. The snake again banged on the glass, wanted to be fed but also playing into my role. “What do you wish of me serpent?” I asked, and dropped to my knees, my hands clasped in a prayer-like position. The snake again poked at the glass, its tongue darting out testing the air, looking for its next meal. “Oh, you’re hungry Mr Snake, whatever do you feed on?” I asked turning from the snake back to the camera, asking my video audience what I should do. Again the snake seemed to bang against the window whilst looking at me, showing its intent on what food it likes, making it clear that it wanted me as its food, as usual. “Oh, you wish to eat me,” I said turning to the camera, “The snake seems to be testing me, it wants me as its dinner, whatever shall I do?” Standing up I walked closer to the snake, my hand touching the glass, “Don’t tempt me, foul creature, you must know that I have been wicked and deserve to be punished.” And I reached up and pulled the latex habit off of my body, it pooled around my ankles leaving me standing there naked, except for the rope harness I had tied on myself in the bedroom, the rope crisscrossing my body from my shoulders to between my legs, running around my breasts and tightly holding me in its embrace. “See, I am sinful, my body cries out for you, take me serpent and do what you will to me. I need to be punished for my wicked, sinful ways.” Then I walked over to the storage area where we keep the jars of feeding gel and selected one of the new ‘standard-plus’ ones and started to rub it all over my body, the gel would feed the snake for the next few days, and I would be inside of the snake for the next 10-12 hours, or overnight basically. A lovely way to spend the night in my books, I get some of my best sleep while feeding the snake, that’s after all of the orgasms, of course, they wear me out. Now coated I tied my ankles together, and put my wrists through the pre-prepared looped rope that was also threaded into the rope harness, my hands would be tightly held against my crotch, where my fingers would dance their tune on my little nub. I then hobbled over to the enclosure door and opened it, the snake sensing that the door was now open, started to move and look for its dinner - me. I lay down in front of the cameras and waited for the snake to find me, my wrists tugging gently on the crotch rope, building my arousal. The snake slithered out of the enclosure and using its tongue sensed that its food was ready, the meal was laying waiting and that there was no danger to the snake. Soon its tongue found my feet, the probing of which tickled them, sending delightful tingles through my bound body. The snake now happy started to prepare, opening its jaws to feed on the meal before it. Soon my feet were inside of its mouth, the flesh enclosed within the snake’s throat. Working quickly, the snake was soon over my knees; the snake seemed to be getting better at eating me I thought. But now came the tricky, more difficult parts of my body, first up was my thighs, now they are not massive but the muscles there are meatier than my calves. The snake slowed down as it swallowed them, my fingers now rubbing the folds of my sex and the little pleasure button more vigorously. Next came my hips, and as before the snake managed to lift up my body to ease the passing of them into its mouth. Soon my waist was inside as well, leaving only my breasts, shoulders and head left. The snake repeated the process of lifting me and using gravity to enable it to swallow a large body mass; my breasts disappeared into the soft interior of the snake’s mouth. I could feel my legs and hips sliding down inside of the snake, the internal muscles moving its meal down towards its stomach. It felt like an intense, soothing massage. Now that my breasts were safely inside of the snake, my shoulders presented no obstacle, and soon they too were inside of the snake, the process of swallowing its prey now almost over. The snake stopped to rest while I had one of my intense orgasms, my body shuddering inside of the snake, held tightly by the internal walls of the snake’s body and the tight rope harness that I wore this time around. “Take me snake; I am yours,” I said, mainly for the camera audience. And my head then was drawn inside of the snake’s mouth, the light from the room fading from my vision as it disappeared inside of the snake. I was now on my way to the snake’s stomach, where I would lay while the snake digested the feeding gel, but on the way down I would bring myself to another wonderful climax or two. The snake once it had finished swallowing the last part of me, lay still and waited for my body to pass down into its stomach, only once there would the snake move back into its enclosure and the safety of its crate, which it lived in. It would then curl up with me inside and sleep while it digested its stomach contents. *** The next morning I was awoken by the movement of the snake, it had begun to move out of its crate and over next to the door of its enclosure, I was soon finding that I was on my way back out from its stomach, the feeding gel now absorbed, the snake regurgitated the remains of its meal, the unwanted parts. I should feel rejected, but I know that it’s part of the process and I would soon be back inside the comfortable, enclosure of the snake once more the next time it needed feeding. Laying there naked and still bound, I usually wait for my husband Jerry to come down and retrieve me from the enclosure, he would then use me for his pleasure, but this time he was still away, so I would have to release myself and finish up. I crawled out of the enclosure and found the knife I left ready to cut the ropes that bound my wrists. Once free I would make sure that the cameras were off and head upstairs for a much-needed bath. After some breakfast, I headed back down and closed the glass door to keep the snake in its enclosure, and then I gathered the hard drive that records all of the action and headed upstairs to watch the video I had just made. I wanted to surprise my husband with the new video, I even thought about sending it to him for him to enjoy in the privacy of his hotel room, but I was the one about to get a surprise. I sat down on the computer that Jerry normally uses to process the videos and the editing program to take out the parts that were boring and not part of the scene that I’d played out with the snake. It was only when I’d opened up the computer browser that I discovered a snake-vore website that I hadn’t seen before. I got the shock of my life when I clicked on the link and saw my image on the screen, there I was dressed up in costume, and then stripped naked and bound, before being fed to the snake. This was the recent harem girl scene we had done together. At first, I wondered how they had gotten hold of our video, but then looking at others on the site, they were all of me being eaten by the snake. I sat there transfixed at the images on the screen, even though I had lived every moment, it still turned me on watching the woman being eaten by the creature., the same as I had when watching the playback with Jerry, while curled up next to him on the sofa. After getting over the shock of the discovery, and the usual arousal that comes with me being devoured, my thoughts then turned to why they were on the internet. The ‘who’ had done this was becoming evident to me, my husband must have done this I reasoned, there was only myself and him who knew about the playtime we had in the basement, and the videos we’d made to capture it and enjoy together later. I needed to know, and the best way to find answers was to ask. I rang my husband’s mobile phone, he picked up and said, “Hi Darling, is there anything the matter?” I answered, “Well yes dear, it seems that we have a little website of my adventures online, with all of the images and videos of me being eaten, do you know who’s responsible?” “Ah! That…” he responded sheepishly. “Yes, that!” I started to get a bit angry with him. “I can explain.” He said. “Please do, and quickly or else.” I spat. “You know that there are websites out there that cater to our fetish, you know, women being eaten and such.” He paused, waiting for me to respond. “And…” I eventually replied. “Well, the videos you’ve made were so good, that I had to share them with others, I posted some images of the first video on a forum, and it went on from there, the demand for videos of you being swallowed are very popular, it just sort of took off.” He stated. “So you like sharing images of your wife naked and bound on the web, without even asking me if I wanted to be involved, isn’t there a law about that or something?” I said, “Besides which, what if people who know me see me on the street after watching the videos?” “The chance of that happening are remote, and even if they did see you, what would they say to you, ‘Gee, great video, nice to see you being eaten.’” He laughed. “Sure laugh all you want, but I’m the one with her face and other parts on the screen.” I cried, “And I’m masturbating and cumming too!” “Have you seen the reviews and comments that you’ve been getting?” he said, trying to switch the conversation around. “No, I haven’t; it seems that you need to be a member or something to see those,” I said, my embarrassment at images of me on screen cumming, my fingers poised over my little nub in clear focus, over took all other thoughts. “You can log in on my user account.” He replied and gave me the information. I logged in and began reading the comments, my husband still talking to me on the phone and telling me which ones to look at first. It did seem that I was very popular online and my scenes with the snake were enjoyed by many, though I did wonder who was watching me being eaten and then thought, ‘Hey, you also watch other women getting devoured, and you found it a turn on too.’ “So you see, there are many out there wanting to see you being eaten, and they want more, including me,” Jerry said. “I know that I should have asked you, but things took off so rapidly, that it took a life of its own.” “And people pay to see me being eaten?” I asked, wondering what sort of benefit there could be for me out of this. “Yes, they do, and we have many monthly subscribers who pay each month to watch you being eaten. And as you can see by the many requests, that they have many ideas for outfits and scenes for you to use for more videos.” Jerry replied. “Plus I know that the snake and the fixing up of the basement was my present to you, which I loved giving to you, but the website has paid for both and will also allow for more money for you to spend on costumes and yourself.” He added. “I guess we will continue this conversation when you get home,” I said, still in shock at what he had done to me. “I’ll get things tidied away today and catch the late flight home; I’ll be home soon. Please don’t do anything until I get there.” He asked. *** Later that evening Jerry arrived home, he rushed in expecting to see mayhem and things thrown around, especially the cameras and computer, he’d been building up his expectations on the flight home and was relieved to see that nothing had been touched. He found me sitting in the lounge, a glass of wine in hand, watching the videos we’d made of the snake and me. He was pleased that I was awake and seemingly not upset, he took that by the video I was watching. “HI, Darling.” He said, trying to gauge my temperament. “Hi.” Was my terse reply, followed by a gulp of my wine. “So…” he started to say. “You bastard! How could you do this to your own wife? I thought that the videos we made were private, just for us to watch and enjoy. What gives you the right to post them online without asking me?” I spat out with the pent up anger that had been building all day. “I’m sorry…” he said, his posture changing, he looked defeated, and his face was ashen. I have never spoken to him like this before; I think it came as a bit of a shock to him. “Sorry, sorry doesn’t even start to make amends!” I was speaking louder now, “I’m upset and angry with you, you should have asked me…” “I didn’t know what to do…” he said, “The site just took over…” “That’s no excuse.” I sobbed, “I trusted you.” He rushed over now that I was crying, he placed his arms around me and hugged me. I fought to get him off of me but ended up crying into his shoulder. We sat there in silence for at least twenty minutes, I having calmed down now, curled up in his arms, my anger spent. “Take me to bed,” I whispered. It was a surprised husband who carried his wife in his arms upstairs to bed that night, he made passionate love to me and brought out a couple of orgasms before he finished himself, not that I was in the mood for sex, I just wanted to feel close to him at this moment. *** In the morning he found the bed empty, he wondered where I was and, after checking my wardrobes still contained my clothes and I didn’t appear to have left him, he walked around the house to look for me. I was on the computer in his office looking at the website again and reading everything on there. “Morning.” He said, making sure to leave the ‘good’ part out for fear of creating another argument. “Morning,” I replied, my mood now lighter after last night. “Looking at the website again?” he asked. “Huh-huh,” I grunted while still looking at the screen. “I expect that I need to take down the site today?” He asked. “Why?” I answered. “Because I never asked you, and also because you are so upset…” he started to say. “No, there’s no need to take it down; the images once posted online can never be erased; they always remain somewhere on the web or someone’s computer,” I stated. “We might as well let them enjoy the images, I did and so did you, so I can deal with it when the time comes if I know someone who sees this.” “Oh…” he was speechless. I knew that I had won, even though I was angry I had reasoned to myself that I had enjoyed making the videos, I had also watched online several websites that catered to my fetish, and it gave me a little thrill to know that someone was out there watching me being eaten by the snake, and enjoying watching it too. “Now I know about the site, are there any other secrets?” I asked. “No, nothing else.” He said very quickly. “So, what did you discover on the website?” he asked. “I have read all of the comments; they seem to be very complimentary of both the snake and me, there are several good ideas for different scenes that we can use, I just need the costume. And there are some, that well, are best left to the imagination.” I said, looking at him with a wry smile on my face. The thought of real snakes eating me, while erotic, would be a one-off deal and not something I would want to do. I was content with my own snake. “Yes, there are some weird people out there.” He laughed. “And I don’t want to lose you.” “You had best show me how you edit the videos, so I know how it’s done and can post them when you’re not here,” I asked. “Sure, no problem,” Jerry said relieved that I seem to be so accepting this morning. “And here’s the latest video I’d made to surprise you, the Latex Nun and the Serpent,” I said handing him the hard drive with the latest unedited recording on it. The shocked look on his face was priceless. ...

There is a surprise winner to a bet on Super Bowl LII. This is a VERY mild story about two women who work as section heads in the same office and attend a Super Bowl weekend business retreat together. I had a totally different story outlined and ready for this year’s Super Bowl, but the game ended up being a very low scoring, almost boring game. My story idea wasn’t going to work, but I was intent on keeping with a Losing story every other year, so I started over and made the game itself a rather minor part of the story. Actually, that is almost the way it has become for the game. The hoopla and commercials and everything else surrounding the game has become larger than the game itself. ...

story continues from chapter seven Chapter 8: Carly and Selena Play Carly came in my house all out of breath. “Selena and I went shopping for some new clothes. After the shopping, she invited me in for a drink. We got to talking about how much fun we had at the cast off party. We both admitted we liked it when you tied us up, all three girls tied up by you, you little devil you,” she snickered. ...

story continues from chapter eight Chapter 9: My Dungeon Carly showed up today. After the usual chit chat, she asked me, “When are you gonna show me your dungeon? After having wild sex with Selena, I think I’m ready to see your dungeon.” “Excuse me?” “Your dungeon. I have watched several videos you have made and I recognize the background as your playroom in some but not all of them, so you must have another place you shoot videos. I know it’s not the barn either. Is it in the basement?” ...

story continues from chapter six Chapter 7: Carly wants to dominate me A few days later, Carly stopped over. “Now that I have experienced being tied up a few times, I want to expand my horizons a little. Friday, when I come here, I want you to be tied up and blindfolded. Are you in shock?” she asked. “Yes, I’m in shock. Delighted and excited would be more accurate. Do you want me to tie myself up and blindfold myself or do you want the honor?” ...

story continues from part twelve Chapter 13 She seemed pissed at me and I felt guilty. It was then I realized that she hadn’t been able to say or even hum the safe word. The gag was too effective. Suzi saw that I felt horrible at the way this had turned out as I carried her to the water trough and gently placed her into its cool reviving water. I washed her sweat and cow shit stained body and rinsed her hair with the cold tap. The poor girl was nearly blue when I pulled her out. ...

story continues from part ten Chapter 11 I got up early and dressed quickly as I needed to get to the market for shopping and things before our guests departed. So, leaving the keys on the pillow, I got the dogs and went shopping. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Suzi? Are you awake, dear?” My Dad’s voice right outside the door jolted me awake. “Uh, yeah, Dad, I’ll be up in a minute.” ...

story continues from part fifteen Chapter 16 We took our leave of my friends and piled back into the car. I looked at Suzi and we both broke out laughing as I asked, “Was you rogering last night, Suzi?” “I was rogering the man I love! And I’m proud of it!” she exclaimed. She then blushed a beet-root red and I kissed her nose. It was going to take a little while for her to get used to the military way of life. ...

“Hey Babe what’s up?” I say as I walked inside of my house. On the couch I could see my beautiful girlfriend Kaylee on her computer furiously typing. Her body was encased in a black, latex catsuit that hugged every inch. It was clear she had put it on right after work as was her habit, and she looked up at me and smiled. “Hey Anna, remember you said you were looking for a way to make our lives a bit more technological?” I shook my head yes, remembering how we had spoken about our mutual love of Fembot and how much fun it would be to become one. “Well I was on the internet and I found this company.” She turned her screen so I could see the page. On the very nicely designed page the words Fembot Inc. were clearly visible, as well as an image of a very beautiful Fembot. She explained that this company made suits that an individual could wear comfortable, and have the abilities of a Fembot. My heart starting to beat faster as I thought about it. Becoming a sleek Fembot would be the ultimate dream maker, and I could see that my girlfriend was eager about it as well. She said, “I think we should order them as an early gift for both of us, what do you think?” I shook my head vigorously, “Yes of course!” We worked through the forms, getting ourselves measured and adding on various add-ons, including box machines that would apply the suit to our bodies. After completing the payment, we cleared out a space in our spare bedroom and waited anxiously for the bots to be delivered. About a week later we were sitting on our couch watching tv when the doorbell rang. I went up to it and standing before me where two Fembot delivery folks. I signed the electronic form and they gestured me to sit down while they set up the bedroom. After indicating where it was supposed to go I went and sat down with my girlfriend, grabbing her hand as we both shook with excitement. After what seemed like forever but was only about 15 minutes, the Fembots waved goodbye and left, leaving us to our own devices. Together we ran to the room and were amazed at what was there. Alongside the bed were two stands, specially built to handle us in our suits. Inside the closet was an assortment of different clothing and Fembot specialty items, made specifically for the suits. Finally, at the front of the room stood two, human sized boxes. They were technological marvels, sleek in their metal construction. On each lay a handprint, which we were supposed to touch when we wanted to be transformed. I grabbed Kaylee and asked, “Are you ready Kaylee bot?” She smiled and yes, “O yes my Annabot, may our transformations go smoothly” We stripped down and stepped up to our boxes, fully nude and ready to begin the process. I placed my hand on the handprint and the door opened, with many mechanical hands welcoming me into the chamber. I gave one last smile to my girlfriend before allowing myself to be taken into the box. The door closed, symbolizing the start of my transformation. I felt the cool metal arms lift me up, and hold me in place to begin the process. I was so ready for this, more ready than I had been for anything. First the machine placed me into a set of ankle boots. Despite having my head anchored, I knew that they were made of chrome metal with a plush inside, made to expand and encase the wearer once the process had finished. My feet felt so good inside of them, and I honestly wondered if I would ever have to take them off. Next came the lower legs and the knee joints. They were locked in place until I became charged up. As the upper legs became attached I groaned, it felt so very nice. Next up came the lower sections. The arms lifted the two pieces in front of my eyes, showing me what was to come. ...

Part 1: A Ritual Cleansing “Ah, coming around, are you dear?” a honeyed voice cooed. I almost thought I knew the voice, but couldn’t quite place it. “Yes, I know it’s not very comfortable for you,” she continued sympathetically, “but that’s part of the scene isn’t it?” Scene? What was that supposed mean? I continued to feign unconscious while I tried to take stock of my situation. From the motion, the uncomfortable hump beneath me and the woman’s voice above, I was fairly certain I was on the backseat floorboard of a car. I thought it must be a very nice car, since the road noise was almost imperceptible and there was a fair amount of floor space. There was a thick ball of fabric in my mouth with the ends tied securely behind my head, and my hands seemed to be bound behind my back with a soft rope. I waited for the car to hit a bump and used the sudden lurch to disguise my attempt at pulling my hands free. The rope held firm and a sudden strain on my ankles told me I was in a hogtied position. ...

story continues from chapter five Chapter 6: True Love The first day Carly came to see me after the party I could tell things were different. I knew now, without a doubt, that I was in love. I don’t use those words loosely. I hoped Carly felt the same about me. I felt more comfortable discussing sex and bondage with her and I could sense she was more relaxed about it too. ...

story continues from part six Chapter 7 Why did he have to talk in military time? I used my fingers to count up from noon to finally figure out that he’d be home at 5:30. I bathed and dressed casually in my jeans and a tee shirt; nothing to brand me as “weird” to the locals. Then I had some hot tea and toast before taking the boys for a walk through the countryside. ...

story continues from part eight Chapter 9 Paul told me about his childhood and teenaged years. He spoke of the reason for his career choice. He talked about his former girlfriend, Sophie, and how she’d introduced him to love bondage. He discovered then that he really enjoyed being sexually with a bound woman. I listened quietly, drinking it all in. Then he asked me to share my life and experiences. I chatted about my childhood and painful teenaged years. I told him about how hard it had been to be the “smart girl” instead of the popular girl. We talked about my college classes and my early introduction to BDSM. ...

story continues from part seven Chapter 8 I raced Paul to the house, but let him win. It wouldn’t have looked right for the slave girl to beat her Master, but I probably could have done it if I’d tried. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Wet to the core, we sat in front of the aga to get warm. I untied Suzi’s arms, freeing her breasts in the process. She gently shook out her arms and breasts while I watched, mesmerized. ...

With her sentence passed and confirmed, they sent Elarra Onga’s-Daughter at once to the Chamber of the Barrel. Her only guard was a goblin, a scrawny fellow who even a flighty princess could have overcome – if she were a human or elven princess. But Elarra was a goblin woman herself. Green-skinned, with big purple eyes and long mobile ears, she stood even shorter than guard-goblin Glum. Furthermore, she had her wrists bound behind her, and was nude beneath her prisoner’s poncho of undyed cloth. And then there was Master Lutz. ...

I stepped off the metro and headed into town, intending to do a bit of shopping with the bonus I got from my promotion. I was giddy with excitement, just wanting to find that perfect item. As I cruised down the street, a few shops caught my attention but none of them had the items that I was searching for. Suddenly I came across a very futuristic looking shop, with what I presumed were naked mannequins in the window. Upon closer inspection however, I came to realize that these were Fembot, and beautiful ones at that. Already getting excited, I moved into the store. Inside were numerous models of Fembot suits, in all sorts of dazzling colors and uses. One of them came up to me and said, “Welcome to the first Fembot Inc. store, how can I assist you today? I looked her over, noting the perfectness of her red metallic body. She had the body any girl would dream of, and exactly the kind of thing I was looking for to spice up my life. I asked her, “Are you a robot, or someone wearing a suit?” She smiled and with a hiss, removed her faceplate. Her face was so perfect and you could see how much she loved being in the suit. She explained how the suit functioned, and how only the user could set the amount of control they had over it, with other various safety features included. She took my hand as we walked through the store. I could feel the coolness of her hand, and knew that this would be utterly perfect. We picked out the newest version of the suit, and a selection of latex clothing items as well as a special Fembot stand. We went up to the front checkout and I happily paid for my suit, ready to feel like a powerful metallic woman. She told me that my customized suit would be delivered in a number of days, and that if I had any problems to come back at any time. As I walked back to the metro, I marveled at the Fembot women I passed along the street, ready to become one of them. A few days later I was sitting at home, watching one of my favorite films when the doorbell rang. I opened it up and there stood a Fembot, holding out a form for me to sign. I eagerly signed it as she brought the boxes in and left in on the living room floor. With a quick smile and a kind gesture she left to go make more deliveries as I turned off the tv and turned my attention to the boxes in front of me. Grabbing a pair of scissors, I cut open the boxes and laid the different items on the ground. ...

For the most part, I typically ignore popup ads. Often they are scams trying to sell you something that you really don’t want. This one was different, however, as it showed what could only be described as a fembot with the words “Become One Today!” Intrigued at the possibility, I clicked on the link and was lead onto the website for Fembot Inc, a company specializing in making fembot dreams a reality. The testimonials dropped massive praise on it, with one saying, “Three of us all got suits and they were all perfect, I’ll never regret my purchase. Fembot Love forever”. By this point, I was beyond convinced and promptly ordered a suit for myself, including a selection of leather and latex clothing to go with it. I clicked rush delivery and waited for my order, excited to become a fembot at last. Two weeks later I stood on my front porch as the delivery van arrived. Having been custom made, it took a while but once it was done it was sent to me. I eagerly signed the form and brought the package into the living room. Opening the box with my keys, I took each component out and laid them on the couch, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Before me lay the pieces of my suit, metallic but also black in color as I had requested. As I held one of the pieces in my hand, I felt the coolness of the metal and the padded interior, making sure it would fit me perfectly. I read through the instructions carefully, noting how each piece went on. I then proceeded to close all of the shades and strip down, leaving my naked body ready to be transformed. I took one of the boots and carefully placed the two parts across from one other. These ran up to the knee and would form a seal, encasing my body within. It also had a wicked heel, one that could be adjusted even higher. The magnets connected and I groaned as I felt the boot encasing my leg in its metallic glory. I did the same for the other leg and found that I was limited in motion on account of the lack of power. The knee joints came on next, followed by the upper thigh pieces. I now had my legs encased in metal, and got very excited when I saw the next part coming. I lifted up the pelvis section and giggled when I saw the interior. The outside was clearly a mechanical version of my private parts but on the inside lay a rod that would penetrate my body. It was the same on the rear part, just a bit smaller. I held my breath as I slid the pieces in, hoping that the vibrations would be everything the company had promised. It felt a bit strange to have it in, but I quickly got used to it as the corset came on. While it did fit me, it didn’t provide the kind of waist I was hoping to get. However, the instructions said that it would come once the unit was done being assembled. ...

(story continues from The Sex Dolly Factory 4) Part 5: Punishment Becky and her new automatronic sex dolly Keisha were cleaning up her lab from the incident that happened last Friday night, as well as Abigail’s weekend tryst with the new hermaphrodite sex dolly. She couldn’t believe that prim and proper Abigail would spend two whole days locked in a room boffing a sex toy. She had a hard time wrapping her head around the thought that Abigail even went to the bathroom on a regular basis! The boss must’ve really liked what she had seen, considering that the Becky’s small nap bed was completely desheveled and smelled of female sex. And the sex dolly smelled like dead fish. Becky had Keisha carry the dolly, Charlene, over to the showers at the other end of the lab and clean it up. Keisha vehemently objected at first, but, now being only a self-aware automated latex dolly that had to obey it’s owner’s orders, begrudgingly set about the task. Keisha picked up Charlene by it’s left arm and, while holding it out at arm’s length, carried it over to the showers. Becky, meanwhile set about to change the sheets. She thought that she should wait for Abigail to come back and make her do this. Really. This is Abigail’s mess, and she should take some responsibility. “Mistress?” Charlene asked as she was carried to the showers, “Can my cock cum now? It’s so hard it hurts… Please, let me cum.” “Charlie, knock it off!” Keisha yelled. Before last Friday, The sex dolly Keisha used to be Reggie Jefferson, and the sex dolly Charlene used to be his best friend, Charlie Hauptmann. The two of them, and a third person, broke in last Friday night in hopes of finding a lot of money in the lab. All they were their own fates as sex toys. Reggie, now responding to Keisha, got the best deal of the three of them. It still retained it’s former memories of when it was human. “Stop talking like that, man! I’m not your mistress!” Keisha dropped Charlene onto the shower’s floor with a thud. It was obviously disgusted with it’s task, thinking that it had to bathe another man, particularly one with an enormous erection. “This sucks,” Keisha exclaimed as it took a step back. It turned to it’s owner and asked the most poignant question of our times, “Do I use soap to clean this freak?” “Well, duh,” Becky replied, still making the bed, “And clean all of it’s holes, too. There’s a wash rag on the bench behind you.” With a disgusted looking frown, Keisha set to work. The only clothes it had were the sexy french maid costume it had on, and it tried hard not to get any part of it wet. It washed Charlene all over in the same manner as an eight year old would if you asked the child to clean a toilet. Keisha gave a little groan as it started cleaning out Charlene’s lower two holes, finding some kind of lubricant in both of them. Charlene let out some sexy moans, as well as begging to be used again. Things really got strange when Keisha started cleaning Charlene’s penis. “Oh, yes, that feels soooo good,” Charlene cooed as Keisha ran the wash rag up and down Charlene’s penis. As it’s fingers, through the rag, felt the girth and pulsing of Charlene’s penis, Keisha slowed down and became fixated with the erect member. Charlene strted moaning louder, “Yesss, please make me cum!” “See something you like?” Becky asked. She had heard Charlene’s moaning and walked down behind Keisha to see what was going on. “I didn’t think that you were ready for dildoes, but I have a few strapons at home we can try.” Startled, Keisha snapped back to reality. “NO! NO WAY!!! NEVER!!!” Keisha replied as it threw the wash rag at the shower’s wall. “Methinks thou doth protest too much,” Becky chided with a Shakespearean quote, “C’mon, let’s get finished. I have a lot of work to do today, so the sooner I get it done, the sooner we can go buy you new clothes. Dry off the dolly and take it back upstairs to the factory. I didn’t lock the door, so just set it on the bench inside, then immediately come back down, and don’t molest it any further. Got it?” “Yes, ma’am.” *************** Abigail returned to the factory at 11 AM, before the regular employees arrived for their shifts. She went home to take a shower and put on clean clothes. She spent the weekend in Becky’s lab having marathon sex with the shemale sex dolly she asked her friend Becky to make, and it was the best decision she ever made. The dolly turned out perfectly! Now, she had a decision to make: keep it, or sell it for a huge profit. She decided that she needed more time with the dolly before making a decision, so she intended to have Eric bring it to her home later that evening. Right now, she had to make preparations to get rid of a sudden thorn in her side. Juanita Montanez has been working at thhe factory for over seven years, and she was a model employee. Always on time, always cheerful, and never said anything bad about anyone else. She seemed extremely loyal to the company, but she did divulge company secrets to an outsider, despite having signed a confidentially agreement. She didn’t give away company manufacturing techniques or information about their exclusive clientele, but she did make it possible for three losers to attempt a robbery. This was unforgivable, and firing her would only lead to further leaks of information. Disgruntled ex-employees will gladly spill their guts for money, as well as getting revenge on their former employers. This was a drastic situation, and it called for a drastic solution. Abigail had a plan in mind, but she needed Eric’s expertise to help pull it off. Making sex dollys or mannequins out of targeted women for wealthy patrons was one thing, but making one of her own employees disappear would draw too much unwanted attention from the autorities. This had to be worked out in minute detail, making it look like she left town on her own accord. There was no room for loose ends. She ‘guesstimated’ that her plan would take seven days to come into fruition, but allowed two days give or take as a leeway. Her target for completion was next Monday morning. She pulled into the parking lot and stopped in her regular parking space. Without hesitation she immediately went inside to her office. She closed the door behind her and locked it. She knew that Raul, the warehouse foreman, would be in soon for the shipping orders that came in over the weekend, so she had to work fast. She called her lawyer, Brian Vickers, to enlist his help. She knew that he would be on board, considering that she transformed his cheating wife into a sex dolly four years ago. To keep him on retainer, she waived the regular cost in making a grade 4 dolly and charged him only the cost of materials. After four rings, the phone was finally answered. “The law offices of Schneider, Vickers, Cohn, and Miller, how may I direct your call?” the voice of a young woman asked. “Brian Vickers, please,” Abigail asked politely, “Tell him it’s Abigail Gillen.” “I’m sorry, Ms. Gillen, but Mr. Vickers will be in court all day. Would you care to leave a message?” “Yes,” she replied, with a little agitation in her voice, “Please ask him to meet me at my house tonight around 8 PM, and have him bring a copy of the confidentiality agreement he drafted for me. I need to go over the specifics of it, and I may need to add a new clause or two.” She hated leaving messages for people, especially answering machines and voicemails. It’s one of her little pet peeves, but talking to Brian is a dire necessity right now for her plan to work. The secretary took the message, as well as Abigail’s other contact information, said a closing pleasantry, then hung up the phone. As soon as the handset hit the receiver, there was a knock at the door. It startled her, and she gave a little jump in her chair. She walked over and opened the door to see Raul standing there with a smile. “Buenos Dias, Boss!” Raul beamed, “And how are you on this lovely day?” “Oh, a bit frazzled, Raul,” Abigail replied, “I haven’t printed up the orders yet. Sorry. It was a wild weekend. I’ll send them directly to your printer in the warehouse in about ten minutes or so.” Raul’s smile quickly went away upon hearing this. “Did something happen?” He asked with some concern in his voice. He really liked working for Abigail, and he treats all of the employees like family. He honestly cares when something goes wrong in their lives. “We had an attempted break in Friday night. Nothing was taken, but whomever did it left a big mess on the second floor. Dr. Evers should be finishing up the cleaning by now.” “Dios mio! Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve been here in like two minutes! What did the police have to say? Are there any leads?” “We didn’t call the police,” Abigail said as she returned to her desk and start up her computer, “Nothing was taken, and nothing expensive was damaged, so we figured calling the police would be a waste of time, and all it would accomplish would be a raise in our insurance premiums. Mr. Biggs has found how they got in and is in the process of fixing that gap, as well as updating our whole security system. You’ll have to think up a new code for the alarm panel as soon as it’s installed. Now, if you don’t have any more questions, and I’m not trying to be rude here, but we both have a lot of work to do. It appears that we have almost 300 orders to go out today, with twelve grade twos going to one address in Alabama. Three grade 3 dollys also have to be shipped out. It’s going to be a long day for both of us.” “There’s also a large shipment coming in,” Raul added, “I schedeuled it for 2 o’clock. I’ll have six people set aside to unload it rapido so it won’t interfere with the outgoing stock. Oh, and there’s more ‘Paula’ dolls in this shipment, so we won’t run out for at least another week. Those suckers are really popular!” And with that, Raul left the office. Abigail turned back to her computer to send the pull list and shipping orders out to the printer in the warehouse. She didn’t like not having everything ready in time for the employees to start work right away. It goes against her meticulous nature, as well as not being professional. Plus it makes her employees stand around and do nothing while on the clock. She finalized the orders and sent them to the other printer in fifteen minutes or so, give or take a minute, then set back to the other task at hand: Plotting her revenge against Juanita in a way that would not lead back to her or her company. She pulled up Nita’s employment record that she had on file and e-mailed it to an address that Eric had given her. She was told that the URL for the address cycled every five minutes, so a trace to or from it would be impossible as long as she cleared the ‘sent’ file after it went through. She was also told to not to look for a confirmation or a response. The next part of her plan had to wait until later that night, when she would meet up with Brian Vickers, so she printed up a copy of the records to take home. The rest of the day went pretty fast for everyone else but Abigail. Raul had the warehouse running like a Swiss watch, getting all of the orders ready to ship before the truck from the shipping company arrived and, at the same time, unloaded and restocked the shelves with the new product that arrived at 1:40 PM. Becky had her lab cleaned in record time, and had already started on the creme to make the new mannequin. She said it would be ready Thursday morning. Abigail’s plan called for it’s use on Monday, so it would be in storage until then. Around 3 PM she and her dolly Keisha left the warehouse to buy it some new clothes. She promised to be back at work the next morning to continue with all of the other projects that were already lined up, and, with her new ’lab assistant,’ she should be able to get things prepared faster. The reason why the day dragged for Abigail was because of Juanita. She was furious about what she had done and was afraid for what else she might do, but she couldn’t do anything about it-yet. She tried to keep an eye on her without looking suspicious. Well, having the boss sticking around one employee the whole day for no reason would seem suspicious, right? The day finally ended and Abigail went home. Becky was probably diddling her sex dolly right about now, and Eric hopefully was working on the little task she sent him on, so this was the first night in a long time that she was home all alone. She made herself a light dinner, then waited for Brian to show up. Brian Vickers arrived at 7:30 PM, driving his white Porsche. He pulled into Abigail’s driveway all the way up to her front door. He stepped out of his car wearing a tailor-made three piece suit, striped shirt and silk tie. He was carrying a typical lawyer’s briefcase. Abigail heard him pull up, and she met him at the door before he could ring the doorbell. “Hello, Brian,” She said as she took a step to the right, “Thanks for coming. Please, come on in.” Brian smiled as he walked past her and into the living room. “Hi, Abigail,” He calmly replied, “How are you? There must be something wrong to call me out here at this hour.” “There is. I have an employee who leaked information about my building to someone who tried to rob the warehouse over the weekend…” “Do I want to know what happened to him?” “Well, it was a ’them,’ and no, you don’t. I just want to know what my legal options are before I take any actions.” Brian went over to the sofa and placed his briefcase down on the coffee table. Abigail walked around to the other side of the sofa and sat down herself. Brian opened his case, rifled through some papers in a folder, then pulled out the one he was looking for. He read it dilligently, even though it was a document he composed for Abigail’s hire packet. “Did the employee divulge any information about your business practices?” “No.” “Did the employee release any trademarked formulas?” “No.” “Did the employee attempt to sell any materials used for production or technical data that would help your competiton reproduce any of your products?” “No.” “Then legally all you can do is fire the employee. You can’t sue them because what they did did not fall into the parameters of the confidentiality agreement. Not much I can do about that.” “Shit,” Abigail sighed. Luckily, she had a backup plan. “Look, Juanita Montanez, the employee, told her lover that there would be $750,000 in the factory’s locked lab. She also told him and his accomplices how to get in, the code for the alarm system, and what kind of lock was on the lab’s door. I don’t want the police involved, but I do want to take care of her. What I need is for her to come to me, desperately needing help.” Brian leaned back into the sofa. “Well, there’s really not much I can do.” “I think there is,” Abigail replied as she got up and walked over to her own briefcase by the front door. She pulled out the employment records of Juanita and handed them to Brian. He looked over them as she took her previous seat on the sofa. “As you can see, she’s an immigrant from Brazil. She is legal, been here for almost ten years, and is applying for citizenship. Thanks to the Republican party, it’s been extremely difficult for Hispanics to become United States citizens, so I was hoping that you could fudge some paperwork to make the INS label her an ‘Undesirable’ and schedeule her for deportation. And I need it done by this Friday.” Brian went off into deep thought. He rubbed his chin and the side of his face while contemplating what he just heard. “That wouldn’t be too hard,” he finally replied, “I have some connections inside the INS, but why? She would just go back to the lawyer handling her citizenship application.” “I have someone else taking care of that,” Abigail replied, “The less you know, the better off you’ll be. As a thank you, I can give you a $25,000 donation to the ‘Brian Vickers for Mayor’ campaign war chest. I know you want to run next year.” “Deal,” Brian said as he put the employment records in and closed up his briefcase then stood up, “I’ll make some phone calls tonight and file some documents tomorrow. I’ll call you Wednesday morning with an update. However, there is something else I do need from you. Last week, I had Maryann posed bent over at the waist with her hands stretched out on a table and legs spread. I got drunk and decided to beat her ass. I was swinging away on her, but, in my drunken state, I lost my balance and fell on her. Her left leg is loose at the hip and just stays straight out when laying flat. When I pick her up, her leg hangs limp. It won’t pull back up into her natural position anymore.” “It sounds like your dolly has a dislocated leg,” Abigail replied as she too got up from the sofa, “Give me a time that I can send Mr. Biggs over to pick her up. He’ll bring her back to the factory and Dr. Evers can repair it. I can’t guarantee how long it would take, but we will make it a top priority. Just let me know when.” Both Abigail and Brian started towards the door. “Also, can you program her with different sayings? Her current comments are getting boring.” They reached the door and Abigail opened it for her lawyer. “Sure. Write down what you want it to say and send them along with the dolly. That I know only takes about a half hour.” “You are a godsend,” Brian said as he leaned over and kissed Abigail on the cheek, “Thanks so much for everything.” “No, thank you! You’ve been a very big help with this, Mr. Mayor! Good night!” Abigail closed the door after Brian’s Porsche left the driveway. Feeling content that her plan was about to proceed, she went to bed with a slight grin on her face. *************************** Juanita Montanez was having the worst week of her life. First, the police raided her apartment for a suspected cocaine stash on Tuesday. On Wednesday, her electricity and phone were shut off for some reason. On Thursday, she was informed that her application for citizenship was denied and that she was to be deported in thirty days. Later that night, she returned to her apartment to find the locks were changed and that an eviction notice was on her front door. The reason printed on the notice stated that there was illegal activity being conducted by the tenant, specifically the use and sale of illegal narcotics. Her landlord wouldn’t even talk with her, let alone go inside the apartment to get some of her things. She tried calling her boyfriend Charlie, but he hasn’t been answering his phone all week. It was all rolling over to voicemail. She decided to get a motel room for the night and try to straighten out everything in the morning, but her credit cards were all declined and her debit card had no money in her bank account. She was royally screwed. She spent the night sleeping in her car, which she had parked in an ‘Open all night’ supermarket parking lot. She was awoken Friday morning by the sunlight creeping through the windshield. She went inside the supermarket’s women’s room to get cleaned up as best she could, under the circumstances. She also used the little money she had in her pockets to buy herself a modest breakfast, consisting of a pack of junk food cakes and a soda. She took a look at her cell phone and noticed that it was a little after 7 in the morning. She decided to drive over to her lawyer’s office to see if anything could be done to straighten out her life. Juanita’s lawyer, Anna Flores, specializes in immigration law. She has helped over a hundred immigrants become citizens in her brief legal career, and had helped a lot more with their visa and passport problems. Being a daughter of immigrants herself, she did her best to help those who had an American dream but were having difficulty achieving it. She was very attractive, and has had many suitors, but has always been married to her job. Most men can’t take being second fiddle to a stranger who can barely speak his language. Juanita knew that Anna didn’t get into the office until 8 AM, but she was there waiting. Although she cleaned herself up as best as she could in that public bathroom, she still looked desheveled, and Anna immediately picked up on this. “Dios Mio! Nita, what happened?!?” Anna asked as Juanita approached her outside the office building’s doors. “Everything!” replied Juanita, “Can we please go inside? I really need some help!” Anna silently nodded her head ‘yes’, and ushered the woman inside the office building. They walked past the security desk, where Juanita still had to sign in, then went straight to the elevators. They got off on the third floor, and Anna helped Juanita down the corridor to her office. The door was already unlocked, and Anna’s secretary, and older woman named Rosa, was waiting with a full cup of fresh coffee. “Buenos Dias, Senora Flores,” Rosa said cheerfully. Her demeanor quickly turned sullen once she got a look at Juanita. “Gracias, Rosa,” Anna replied, not stopping for the coffee but headed straight for her office with Juanita in tow, “Please, hold all my calls, and bring in some coffee for Senora Montanez. I’ll check my messages later.” In the office, Juanita plopped wearily down into the nearest chair. Anna put down the briefcase she was carrying and took off her coat. Rosa quickly came in with two cups of coffee, sat them down in front of their intended drinkers, then whisked back out of the office. She shut the door behind her. That’s when the full tale of woe began. Juanita told her everything that had happened over the past three days. Anna listened with disbelief that this could have happened at all. Anna asked if she had any proof that these things could have been done in error, like cancelled checks showing the bills being paid, the search warrant from the police, or a copy of her tenant’s lease. Juanita explained that her landlord won’t let her back into her apartment to retrieve anything, let alone a change of clothes. “I see,” Anna finally said. “I’ll call INS and find out what’s going on there. All of your paperwork with them is correct and filed properly. What you have good going for you right now is that you have a stable job that you have had for more than five years. See if your employer will give you a letter of recommendation on your behalf with a brief work history with them. That would help with INS. As for your other problems, I’m really not equipped to handle those, but I do have a colleague who might be able to. Let me make some phone calls. We’ll get this fixed. Keep your cell phone on and I’ll call you later today. This will be my top priority. Try to relax, and don’t worry. You’ll be back in your apartment by nightfall.” “Oh, gracias, Anna!” Juanita exclaimed as she stood up, “Thank you very much!” “My pleasure. Do you have someplace to stay in the meantime?” “I have to be at work at noon. I can walk around a mall and window shop until then.” “Do you have any money on you?” Anna asked as she reached for her wallet, “Here, take this.” She reached out with two twenty dollar bills in her hand. “Gracias, no,” the proud woman replied, “I can’t take your money. Besides, today’s payday. Luckily, I never signed up for direct deposit. I’ll have my paycheck at the end of the day.” “Okay, if you’re sure,” Anna put the money back into her wallet, “So, go, take it easy for a while, then go to work like normal. I’ll call you as soon as I get results.” Juanita gave a weak smile, then left the lawyer’s office. It was 9:30 AM when she walked back out into the sunlight. She felt a little better, or, more accurately, she felt less depressed, as she walked back to her car. She decided that instead of going to the mall, she would enjoy this beautiful day at Lakeside Park, and watch the ducks swim around until she had to go to work. She took position on a park bench that overlooked most of the park. She let her mind go blank as she watched the world slowly drift by her in such a serene setting. All of her worries melted away as she watched the children play on the swings and jungle gym. The ducks on the lake did their daily dance through life, without a care in the world. She was completely relaxed and was now strong enough to face whatever else the day might throw at her, until she noticed her cell phone was shut off. She suddenly shifted into a mild panic mode! What if the lawyer was trying to call her? How will she get in contact with anyone? Wait…what time is it? She jumped up and stopped the closest person to her, an elderly man with a cane, feeding the pidgeons. “Excuse me, sir,” Juanita politely asked, despite going a mile a minute inside, “But my cell phone died, and I don’t have a watch. Can you please tell me the time?” The elderly man rolled up his sleeve to show an extremely old watch on his wrist. “Why, it’s quarter to noon.” Mild panic was now pole vaulted over. She was now in full panic mode, and was already running towards her car as she yelled ‘Thank you’ over her shoulder to the elderly man. She was going to be late for work! She fumbled with getting her keys out of her pocket, fumbled with getting them into the lock, and fumbled with getting them into the ignition. Once she got the engine started, a little voice in the back of her head told her to drive carefully with no speeding. She definitely didn’t need to be pulled over by the police right now! She arrived at the factory about twenty minutes late, thanks to the lunch time traffic. She hurried through the front doors, but was immeditely met by Eric. “Ah, so nice of you to join us,” He sarcastically said. “I know, I’m very late,” Juanita replied apologetically, “I’m sorry, and it will not happen again.” “Come with me, please.” Eric held the inside door open so she could go through. Once past it, he directed her to Ms. Gillen’s office. Ms. Gillen was sitting behind her desk, going through some papers as Juanita entered. After Eric entered, he closed the door behind him. “Please, sit,” Ms. Gillen said as she motioned to a chair opposite from her. Juanita slowly walked over and sat down. “I know I’m late, Ms. Gillen, and I’m sorry, but…” “Stop,” Ms. Gilled tersely said as she held up her hand in as stopping motion, “I have a report from my lawyer that you were dealing narcotics, and that your work visa has been revoked.” “I can explain!! It’s all a big mistake!! I don’t…” Ms. Gillen held out her hand again to stop her from talking. “Nita, you’ve been here for several years with an impeccable record. I wish I had more employees like you. I feel like I can trust you with any task I give you, and it would be done quickly and correctly. I do not believe this narcotics charge levied against you, and I agree that it is a mistake. However, the work visa is a problem. This company’s policy is to only hire legal workers. You are presently labelled as an ‘Undesirable’ by INS. Hopefully, this is a mistake as well, and that you can get it rectified in short order. Until such time, I can’t allow you to work here. You’re fired.” “WHAT?!?!” Juanita yelled as she slid to the edge of her seat. This can’t be happening!!! “You can’t do this!!! I’ve done nothing wrong!! Someone’s doing this to me!! I was hoping you could help me with this!!” She started crying uncontrollably. “I’m sorry,” Ms. Gillen said with genuine sympathy in her voice, “But I must do what my lawyer suggests. When you get this straightened out, I’ll gladly hire you back, and I’ll even give you a dollar an hour raise because of the inconvenience. Please try to see it from my point of view.” She got up from behind her desk, walked around to Juanita, stooped down, and hugged the weeping girl. “I’m so sorry I have to do this,” Ms. Gillen consoled the girl, “But it’s something beyond my control. The lawyers rule the world now. I know everything will turn out all right.” She pulled away from Juanita and looked into her eyes. “I have your paycheck for last week, as well as your pay for this week. I hope it can hold you over for right now, until you get this taken care of. Also, I wrote my home phone number and address on the back of a business card I attached to the checks. If there’s anything you need, do not hesitate to contact me.” “Can… can… can you…can you give me a… a..letter of recommendation?” Juanita sobbed, choking back her tears. “Sorry,” Ms. Gillen replied as she held the girl again, “But I can’t give a letter to someone who is technically illegal. I’m so sorry.” Juanita continued to cry, even as Ms. Gillen let her go. She felt Eric’s hand on her shoulder. She looked up between the tears to see him motioning towards the door. She cried harder as she stood up, and Ms. Gillen handed her two paper checks. She took them both, and Eric led her out the doors slowly, as if leading a prisoner to the gallows. Outside again, she slowly wandered over to her car, and cried for almost a half hour behind the steering wheel. She finally summoned up the energy to go and cash her last paychecks. The bank that they were drawn on did not have a branch in the county, let alone the state, so she decided to take them to a check cashing store. She knew that she would have to pay 15% of each check’s value, but she didn’t want to take the chance that her bank might confiscate them if she went there. When she arrived, she put Ms. Gillen’s business card in her pocket as she took out her driver’s license and social security card. To her surprise, the store only charged 12% to cash them, so at least one thing was going right this week. She left the store and, with cash in hand, went to get some drive through burgers for lunch. After eating, she headed back to her lawyer’s office for hopefully more good news. Instead, she saw a few different law enforcement cars parked in front of the office building, and one had markings of the INS on it’s doors. She cautiously drove past them all, trying not to draw any attention to herself. After driving for an additional mile, she felt safe enough to pull over and find a payphone. You’d be surprised how few of those things are still around! She finally found one after almost an hour of searching, and it was inside a seedy bar over by the railroad tracks. She had to buy a beer to get some change. She left the drink on the bar as she went to call her lawyer. “Law offices of Anna Flores,” Rosa said cheerfully when she picked it up, “How may I help you?” “My name is Juanita Montanez,” Juanita whispered into the reciever, “I have to talk to Senora Flores immediately!” “Si! Si! Yes, Senora Montanez! We have been trying to get hold of you! Uno Minuto, por favor!” Juanita was put on hold briefly, and suddenly Anna Flores exploded into the phone. “Nita! Nita! If you can hear me, don’t talk,” Anna said in a low whisper, “The police found out you were here earlier. Someone saw your name on the sign in sheet. Dialing your phone number says that your phone is disconnected. You can not come to my office right now. Do not tell me where you are for any reason!” Juanita stood with the phone to her ear in stunned silence. ‘Why is this happening to me?,’ she thought. “I got fired today…,” she said, still in a bit of a daze, “I’m undesirable…” “The police are still here. Go find a place to hide. Contact me again in about five days or so. Hopefully we can talk then. For now, please stay out of sight!” With that, Anna hung up the phone, leaving Juanita so stunned that she couldn’t even move. When she did finally move, she walked slowly over to the bar, gulped down the beer still sitting there, then walked back out into the early afternoon sun. She half staggered back to where her car was parked, only to find it gone. A pile of broken window was in it’s place. ********************* Abigail Gillen was sitting in her living room late Sunday afternoon, watching an old romantic comedy on TV. Comfortably curled up in loose sweat pants and t-shirt, drinking a glass of red wine, and munching on some cheddar crackers was all she wanted from the day. Total relaxation from all of the hard work she had put in for the week was what the doctor ordered, and she always listened to the doctor. Her bliss was interrupted by the doorbell. It wasn’t an unexpected incursion on her day, but it was one she was expecting to come earlier. She walked over to the door with a slight spring in her step. If it was who she hoped it was, it meant her plan was working perfectly. She pushed aside the curtains that hung over the window to the left of the door to see who it was. It was an unkempt Juanita Montanez, still wearing the same clothes she was had on last Friday. She looked dirty, and her clothes had a few rips in them. When Juanita saw he looking, she gave a weak and demoralized smile. Abigail let the curtain go and giggled to herself a little. She quickly composed herself, and opened the door. “Juanita!” Abigail gasped in surprise, “What happened to you?” “Por favor, I need help…,” Juanita pleaded, “I lost my apartment, my car, my money, my citizenship, and the police are looking for me… I have no family here… all of my so-called ‘friends’ turned their backs on me… I didn’t do anything wrong… I’m so hungry… I have no where else to go…Please help me…” “Yes, anything,” Abigail replied, “Wait here.” She turned and headed back inside the house, leaving the door open. She was amazed how bad Juanita had sunk so quickly. She looked and smelled like a bum! Abigail went over and took some money out of her purse and grabbed the box of cheddar crackers. She returned to Juanita, holding out everything in her hands for the girl to take. “I can give you this for right now,” She handed over sixty dollars in cash plus the crackers, “But the police have been around here several times. They even questioned me about you. You can’t stay here too long.” “Do you have anyplace I can stay until next week?” Juanita begged, “I have no place to go… any place at all…” Abigail took her time and made it look like she was in deep thought. Finally, she made it appear like she came up with an answer. “The factory!” she blurted out, “The lab has a bed and a shower in it. No one would think of looking for you there!” “Really? Can I stay there?” “Yes, for a little while. Can you make it there by yourself?” “I think so, but… can’t you take me?” “No. If the police find us together, it would be prison for the two of us. Try and get there as fast as you can, and avoid any surveillance and traffic cameras. Hide around the back in the bushes by the dock entrance. I’ll let you in back there shortly after sundown. Now, go, and be careful!” Abigail literally spun Juanita around and gave her a light shove back down the walkway. The girl looked back at her old boss before she started walking. She took two steps then shoved some crackers into her face. After the girl was far enough away, Abigail closed the door and started to laugh. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Becky. “It’s me… Yes, she just left… Like a charm!…Yes… Is everything ready?… Fruit punch? I thought she liked grape… Okay! Okay! I’m not trying to argue!… Tonight, so we’ll be doing it tomorrow morning, if your synthetic alchohol works… Right… See you around 3 AM then… Okay…Bye.” Abigail pulled into the factory’s parking lot shortly after 8 in the evening. She quickly went inside and disabled the alarms. She made sure that she had locked the front doors after she came in before heading to the receiving dock. She opened the emergency door and peeked her head outside. “Juanita!” she loudly whispered, “Are you there?” She looked all around the area in the darkness, trying to detect movement. It didn’t take long to get a response. “Yo soy,” Juanita replied before coming out from behind a bush, “I’m here.” She ran to the back door and rushed past Abigail, who quickly closed and locked the door behind her. “Thank you, Ms. Gillen,” Juanita said as she caught her breath, “I don’t know how to repay you.” “We’ll find a way,” Abigail replied, “And enough of that ‘Ms. Gillen’ stuff. Please call me Abigail. Now, let’s go get you something to eat and drink. Dr. Evers keeps a stash up in the lab.” She started walking back to the stairs, and she put her arm around Juanita to help her along. As they walked, Juanita would not stop thanking her. “I know how much trouble you could be in for helping me, and I’ll never forget it to my dying day. Not many people would take this kind of chance for another person.” “Well, I know that you are innocent of the charges against you, and I’m hoping you will clear them up quickly. I need you back at work.” “Thank you so much, Ms. Gil-er Abigail. I really appreciate that.” This continued the entire walk to the lab. She didn’t stop talking until they got to the big metal lab door with the retinal lock. Abigail quickly opened it and ushered the girl inside. She followed behind her and closed the door. She locked it, and turned around to Juanita already sprawled out on the small twin bed. “Eat first, then sleep,” Abigail said as she picked Juanita up off the bed, “Come now, the fridge is over here.” She walked the girl towards the back of the lab across from the showers. There was a large industrial fridge against the back wall, and it was loaded with fruits and other snacks, as well as an ample supply of fruit punch drinks. Juanita immediately reached out and started manhandling a bottle of fruit punch. Once she got it opened, she drank half the bottle in a single swig. She then launched herself at an apple, followed by a banana, then a peach. In a short amount of time, she downed seven different fruits and two bottles of fruit punch. She started to stagger a little when she finished off the second bottle. “Mio Dios, este jugo es bueno!” she exclaimed as she reached for a third bottle. She had a little trouble removing the cap, but that was understandable, considering every bottle of fruit punch in there was spiked with synthetic alchohol and nanites keyed to her DNA. “English, please,” Abigail said, trying not to sound insulting, “My Spanish is extremely limited.” “Lo siento…uh, I’m sorry,” Juanita replied, “I just said that this juice is good. You should have some.” “Fruit punch does not agree with me. I’ll stick with the cherry.” Abigail took a bottle of cherry water and started drinking. She knew that the cherry drinks were safe, and she had to try and match Juanita drink for drink to get the desired effect. The girl had to be very drunk for what was to happen next. So the night went on, and Juanita had about eight bottles of fruit punch and Abigail had about six cherry waters. Aside for a few staggering trips down to the women’s room, everything was going according to plan. Juanita was very drunk, and, luckily, she was a happy drunk. “Abigail! Abigail! Did I ever tell you that I think you should sell more men sex dolls?!? You know, guys with big cocks?!? Big, fat, long, donkey jealous, Tarzan swinging boners?!? They’d sell great! I’d even buy one! It’d be better than my boyfriend! The perro ain’t called me in a week! Well, fuck him…his loss…,” Juanita drunkenly stammered while hardly taking a breath. She was so drunk, she could barely stand. She was stretched out on the bed with her head propped up by her elbow. “What a coincidence!” Abigail replied, “We’re testing a new dolly right now! Stay right here… I’ll be right back!” She went out the door, and returned a few minutes later carrying Charlene. When Juanita got a good look at the oversized Barbie doll with the huge penis, her eyes got as big as saucers. “Oh, Dios mio!!! Oh, my God!!!” She exclaimed as she sat up, “You’re going to start selling those?!? That dong is huge!!!” “We’re thinking of selling them. Would you like to try it out?” “Oooh, I’d like to, but I don’t think so…” “Please, Mistress,” The dolly said with it’s typical recorded sounding voice, “Please play with my cock… Let me make you cum.” “Wow! It talks!” Juanita said as she stood up. She walked over and grabbed it’s penis. “Oooohhhh, yes… Please, fuck me…” the dolly begged. “Go ahead,” Abigail said as she directed both Juanita nad the dolly over to the bed, “You know you want to. I know you want to. You need this right now. You just said that you wanted one, and the only difference is that this is a woman instead of a man with a huge cock. Drink some more fruit punch and I’ll leave the room. Just knock on the door when you’re done.” Abigail left the room to give Juanita some privacy. In about five minutes, she was hearing moans from both the girl and the dolly. An hour after that, things went quiet and there was a knock at the lab door. Abigail went back in to see Juanita wearing nothing but her panties and an unbuttoned blouse, sitting on the edge of a stool, drinking another fresh bottle of fruit punch. “You were right,” she said in an extremely drunken voice, “I did need that. Charlie can go fuck himself. I want one of these. Did you know that if you put your tit in its mouth, it’ll start sucking?” “Charlene,” The dolly retorted. “Yes, it was designed to do that,” Abigail replied as she went over to silence the doll with a wadded up piece of clothing, “This particular model will sell for $250,000 dollars once passes the safety tests.” She picked up the remaining clothes and handed them back to Juanita. That’s when the time for the chemical shower came to mind. “Phwew!” Abigail remarked when she got close to Juanita, “I think it’s time for you to take a shower! You smell like a wharf at low tide during an oil spill!” She again took the girl by the arm and led her down to the showers. The bottle of mannequin creme was already sitting on a small plastic table in where the showers were. “I do smell a bit funky,” Juanita stammered, “But I don’t have anything else to wear.” “There’s a bathrobe and slippers here you can wear until we get you clean clothes,” She replied, trying to get her inside the shower before Becky and Renee arrive, “There’s also a bathing cap so your hair doesn’t get wet. We also have this wax that makes your eyebrows look fantastic.” She quickly spread the wax on her eyebrows before she could complain. “I never had this done before,” Juanita said as Abigail appied the wax, “If I had known, I wouldn’t have shaved my bush Friday morning!” With some difficulty, Abigail finally got the drunken Juanita into the shower with all of the precautions in place. She used rubber gloves to apply the creme to every part of the girl’s body, despite the staggering and tilting common with drunken people. Once it was fully applied, and the proper amount of time for it to take effect went by, the water was turned on to rinse it all off. Abigail then helped towel the drunk girl off to reveal the plastic sheen of her skin. The next part was tricky. The transformation into a mannequin had begun, and it would cause her drunkeness to clear up very fast. She had to work faster. She slipped on the bathrobe and slippers, then led her to the door to the lab. “Hey, you want to see something cool?” Abigail asked. “Sure, Abby, always!.” Juanita replied. Being called ‘Abby’ caused Abigail to cringe. She hated being called that with a passion, but she was on a tight schedeule here. Her anger can be addressed later. “I’ll show you where we make the mannequins.” “Cool, with a capital ‘C’!” Abigail led Juanita out of the lab. They turned immediately to the right, and staggered the short distance to the mannequin room. The door was unlocked, and they had some difficulty getting in. It was hard to open a door while still holding up a drunk. Luckily, this is when both Becky and Renee arrived. “Dr. Evers! So glad to see you!” Juanita blurted out when she saw them, “Who’s your friend? Hi! I’m Nita! That Charlene dolly is incredible!” “I take it that this is her?” Renee asked as she helped hold Juanita up by her left arm. “Yep, that’s her,” Becky replied as she took Juanita’s right arm, “What do you think?” “Let’s finish, and then I’ll decide.” They finally made it inside the mannequin room. As of right now, there were only five mannequins left in storage. All of the others have been sold to lakeside resorts that sold bikinis and other swimwear, so they had to rebuild their backstock soon. But that is for another day. Right now, they had to finish making the one they started on. The three women dragged the staggering girl over to the metal support rods. Becky had set them last Friday morning in accordance with the height listed in Juanita’s employment file. They decided to make her a jointed mannequin, so the supports were placed accordingly. As they headed over to them, Juanita looked around the room at the remaining nude mannequins. “Wow, they’re so lifelike…,” She commented as she was whisked past them. “Would you like to pretend to be one?” Abigail asked as they reached the supports, “It’ll be fun.” “I dunno…,” Juanita replied, “Can I play with Charlene again?” “Sure, but later. First, I need you to take off your slippers and stand on these slanted blocks. Also, take off your bathrobe and place your elbows in these brackets with your neck against this brace.” “My bathrobe…?” Juanita was starting to sober up. “Yes, you have to be naked to play mannequin. If you don’t then you will not get to play with Charlene again. Besides, it’s just us girls here. You don’t have anything we don’t have ourselves.” In reality, the terrycloth in the barthrobe will make cloth pattern marks in the mannequin’s plastic skin as it forms, thus ruining the mannequin. After some thought, Juanita slowly removed her bathrobe. There was something about Charlene that she was attracted to, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She gave the robe to Abigail, who in turn gave it to Becky. As she handed it over to her, she leaned over and whispered something into her ear. Becky smiled, then left the room. Abigail and Renee proceeded in placing Juanita into the braces. It was difficult trying to keep the girl’s head up as she was drunk, but the nanites started working overtime making her jounts stiffen. Finally, her head stayed inside the neck brace. As it did, Juanita became more sober by the minute. “Abby? Abby…I can’t move,” Juanita said through a closed mouth, “What’s happening to me?” “We decided instead of letting you play mannequin, we chose to make you one instead,” Abigail replied, “Your whole body is being turned into thick hollow plastic. Once it finishes, we’re going to cut you into pieces and glue joints into you so you can be posed.” “Wh-wh-what?!? Why?” Juanita asked, “Why do this to me?” “Because you betrayed me. You told your boyfriend Charlie all about my building and it’s alarm system. He and two of his friends tried to rob us Friday of two weeks ago, and he said that you were his source of information. He said that you gave him the alarm code, directions on how to get in, described the retinal lock on the lab door, even that there would be over $750,000 dollars in cash here. He mentioned you by name. You even said your bofriend’s name was Charlie, and you haven’t heard from him in over a week, right?” “C-C-Ch-Char-lee?” Juanita sruggled to say out loud. As she said that, Becky returned pushing her computer cart. Behind her followed Keisha, and it was carrying Charlene. Keisha was no longer wearing the French maid costume, but was instead in red skin tight hot pants, a pink tube top, high heeled sneakers and pink socks. This was the first time Abigail saw the dolly dressed like this, and it made her laugh. This was the first time Renee had seen a moving dolly, and was fascinated. Keisha immediately had a comment for the laughter. “Don’t blame me for this,” Keisha said as it put the Charlene dolly on the floor, “I didn’t want to dress like a 1970’s Manhattan hooker.” “Oh, you look great!” Becky replied as she pushed the cart in front of Juanita. “I look like I should be trolling the men’s room at ‘Studio 54’.” “Renee,” Abigail asked between giggles, “Is this acceptable the way it is, or do you prefer changes?” Renee was still entranced by the walking, talking dolly, but the question snapped her out of it. “Give her two cup sizes bigger and soft, and make her have a bright and welcoming smile,” Renee replied, “Then let’s see what we have.” She then returned her attention to Keisha. ...

My father in law was out of town and it was my job to go to his house and feed the cat. Lonesome cats need some personal attention so I figured I would hang around a while to give her some company. The bed in my father in law’s house is a fancy king size with smooth steel bars at the foot of the mattress and nice wooden posts at the head. This is such a great opportunity, I decided I can tie myself up for a while and keep the kitty company at the same time. I took my clothes off. Using some soft flat nylon rope, I tied my feet to the bars at the foot of the mattress. Then tied rope to each wrist. I could almost reach the corner posts at the head; but not quite. I threw the rope over the posts so my arms were now stretched out to the corners. ...

Lindsey Stirling had woken up that morning in a lovely little beach cabin she had rented. From the bedroom window she could see the wonderful waters of the Mediterranean Sea. As she gazed at the waves from the soft plush bed she was laying in she suddenly felt the inspiration to go and play a song of hers on her violin. She quickly hopped out of bed slipping into a simple black one piece swimsuit that was modest and showed very little skin. What it lacked in the showing skin department it made up for by enhancing and glorifying her every curve. ...

Betrayal: Bondage Trap Part 1 It’s a beautiful warm mid summers day in a quiet secluded parkland, trees all around me providing shade. I look around only to see trees, open spaces and a drive path just ahead of me that passes me from left to right that has a large shelter on the left side with park benches in it and a car park on it’s left side. The right side of the drive path leads out of my view, is the exit to this area leads to the main road. A walking trail passes from behind me on the left of me about 5 meters away which leads to the drive path and directly to the shelter with the benches in it. ...

story continued from chapter ten Chapter 11: This could be fun!!! Update 5 from my prison “So, you want to participate in a domination session with Jules and me, is that correct?” I asked. “Yes, I would,” Master replied. “Very well then, but first you must learn my name. Call me Mistress,” I ordered. “Yes, Mistress,” he replied. “Good, let’s get started then,” I said. “Jules! Jules get in here. I have a surprise for you,” I hollered. ...

If You haven’t read the first part of The Gamble I would recommend it. The following might make more sense that way. Part Two I had to try to insert it three times into the padlock due to my trembling hands but it slid in easily enough and when I twisted the key I received a click and the padlock opened releasing the chain from my collar. The relief was enough for me to fall to my knees and to start crying again, but this time out of happiness. ...

I own a small repair garage in north central Indiana. It’s a modest place, but it keeps food in the table. Every morning before I open, I go get some breakfast and coffee with a bunch of the local boys. The food is passable, but the highlight of the day is when Lucinda comes in the joint. Lucinda, or Cindy as she likes to be called, is the wife of Caleb Fisher. Now, Caleb is at least 50 years old, kind of grizzled old fart that has a big farm. We all can’t figure out how he got Cindy. Cindy is this 25 year old vixen. She has a pretty heart shaped face with a turned up nose, and a figure that is absolutely flawless. I mean I get a hard on just glancing across the diner when she walks in. …and, Oh God, the way she walks! ...

Pain and gain. Come here. That right my dear, Come to your master. You have been a bad girl. You now you will be punished. You signed the contract. In return for you services as a maid for one year. Your beloved sister is saved from nasty leg breakers. As a dancer by profession that would ended her career. But she did rack up a huge amount of gambling debts. ...

Chapter 1 My head pounded and I felt cold. I opened my eyes, but everything was dark. At first, I thought that I was still asleep, but as I grew accustomed to the dark, I could see a faint background glow to the room I was in. Further exploration revealed that I was naked, locked in a frame all around my body. On all fours, with my hands and toes flat on the floor and my back in the air and my head held up and pointing forward. ...

story continued from part one_ #### Anna’s Punishment, Day 2 It had not been a good night. My head was pounding and I felt dehydrated even though I had drank all of the water that had been left on my table. The snacks I hadn’t really touched, even though I knew I probably should’ve eaten something. But they were dry snacks, so I knew they’d stay good even if I saved them for later. ...

story continued from chapter six Chapter 7: So this is my station in life now…… In case you don’t remember from previous chapters, my b/f, now ex b/f, has sold me to a man who keeps me locked in a cell in his basement. So my story continues…. I have been held captive for about seven months now and have settled in to a routine which is tolerable. Actually, tolerable is too nice of a word. Survivable would be a better description of my life. The first five or six weeks were terrible. I was very defiant and downright angry all the time. If I was rude, I was beaten. If I was loud, I was beaten. If I was defiant, I was beaten. Food was withheld from me, as was sleep, whenever I did anything that annoyed my Master. I was forced to perform oral sex on my Master whenever he chose and was raped whenever he felt like it. My life was basically a living Hell. ...

Part 1 It was early afternoon on the second Sunday of November, 1931. His Lordship, Henry, the 5th Earl of Harrisford, heard footsteps on the polished floor of the hallway outside the library of his London townhouse. His wife, Elizabeth, the Countess Harrisford, had left the room about 30 minutes earlier and he thought that it must be she, returning. But something didn’t seem quite right. The sound of the high-heeled boots which his wife had been wearing made a sharper click; these footsteps were softer. ...

story continues from part five Chapter 6 I was held tightly to the old chair. Oddly enough, this position made me feel more secure than when I was just standing around freely. Now I was once again at Paul’s mercy, and it felt right. But still, in the back of my mind was a doubt and it was worming its way back to the front of my thoughts. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ...

story continued from Willingly Transformed into Fembot It had been a long day at work, designs for the new airplane were going well and we were on track to complete it ahead of schedule, which would certainly both give us time to handle any potential issues as well as making our bosses happy. However, as I arrived home I noticed a box sitting on the porch, with a label that said from it was from Fembot Inc. I knew exactly what it was, as a coworker had shown me the website and mentioned how she knew that I had been looking for something to change up my life a bit and knew I would like it. ...

story continued from Willingly Transformed into Fembot & A box from Fembot Inc Monday at 1pm I had just finished grading papers and was walking out of the building when I ran into an old colleague and close friend of mine named Bree. Bree and I had started working here at the same time and were both transwoman, though I was post-op. We were on friendly terms and often had lunch together, discussing various different manners at hand. “Good afternoon Bree” “Good afternoon to you as well Amy, heading to lunch?” “Yes, would you like to join me?” “Sure!” As we walked across the campus to our favorite lunch spot, I couldn’t help but notice how happy she seemed to be. I assumed it was because she had just finished her book and was getting ready to submit it. As we arrived at our lunch spot we ordered and continued to chat. “You seem awfully happy today, new book finished?” Sara smiled, “No, but my girlfriend did surprise me with something” She looked around first to make sure that nobody was listening in. Intrigued I moved closer, interested in hearing what she had to say. “Have you ever heard of Fembot Inc?” She asked I shook my head no, though I had heard about Fembots. You see I always had a fascination with them, and always wanted to one day temporarily become one, just so I could feel the metal covering my skin while radiating mechanical perfection. She continued, “My girlfriend surprised me with a Fembot suit made by them, while also wearing one herself. You can only imagine the weekend we had.” She said while raising her eyebrows in a suggestive manner. “O wow that sounds amazing! Out of curiosity how much did they cost?” She smiled again while looking at me, “Why? You interested?” I subtly shook my head yes, a tad bit embarrassed about my interest. “You should order one! In fact, my girlfriend Sarah and I don’t have anything going on this weekend, you should have it delivered there!” I thought long and hard about it and realized that I had some cash saved up for just such an eventuality. I said yes and together pulled out my laptop and placed an order for a beautiful chrome fembot suit, to be delivered to their house. We split ways afterwards and agreed to have me come over that weekend to put it on. Saturday at 11am I showed up after I had gotten a call that my suit had arrived and that they were very excited to have me come over. I arrived at 11am, grabbed my purse, and headed up to the front door. I rang the doorbell and was shocked when it opened. Before me stood two beautiful fembots. The taller one, which I presumed to be Bree on account of her height, was clad in a black, latex catsuit with a leather harness running along the entire body on top of her silver fembot suit. Even with the catsuit on, it was clear that this was a happy woman in her fembot suit. The smaller one, Sarah, was completely naked, and her chrome body looked marvelous against the light of the morning. They got me inside and welcomed me. “Welcome to our house, do you like what you see?” Sarah said, gesturing to her body. “I love it, does this mean I’ll get to look like that too?” Bree shook her head yes, “Of course, powerful women forever!” She said smiling. “Are you ready to be transformed?” They said together “O yes, I can’t wait!” I said, very excited about what was to come They ushered me into their spare bedroom, where three stands stood on one side of the room. On the bed lay my fembot suit. It’s dulled chrome look was colored pink, as I had ordered, and I couldn’t help but touch the metal. It felt cool to the touch, while the inside was padded to give me the correct fit. Bree told me to undress myself while Sarah and her got the pieces ready. I took off all of my clothing and stood in the middle of the room, shaking with excitement at the idea of becoming a beautiful fembot. Sarah and Bree both picked up boot halves and brought them over. ‘We are going to have to have you sit down for this first part, as the feet need to be off the ground to be properly put on.” They then lowered me down onto the ground and together put on my new boots. They glistened in the light and I could feel them get closed and then clamp down onto my legs firmly. Bree explained that while the heels were up right now, they could be adjusted if the user desired. She also mentioned how these were electromagnets, which added an extra safety feature. “Say you are in the suit and the power source dies. Instead of trapping you in the suit, the magnets simply become depowered and the suit falls off, leaving you free and clear.” They then lifted me up and I had the chance to feel firsthand how these new boots felt. Surprisingly I found I didn’t have any mobility in the ankle joints, which I asked Sarah about. “The suit hasn’t been set up yet, so you’ll be stuck at first, once it hooks up it’ll give you back normal motions.” They continued to work their way up my legs, cladding my legs with sleek, pink leg pieces. Finally, we came to the private areas, and I saw immediately that both pieces had items that would stick up into my body. Bree stopped and asked if it would be ok to install these. I replied yes and braced myself. The combination of both pieces coming in at once felt cold but also exhilarating. I could only imagine how I would feel once the suit powered up. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: Francesca’s Punishment “See you tomorrow, bye” said Francesca to her fellow canteen workers as they said their goodbyes at the end of another shift. Francesca began the short walk home. Across the car park. Past the supermarket. She passed the pharmacy. Two minutes later she crossed the road and entered an alley which would lead towards her flat. An alley she had entered many times without bother. But today she was met with a sudden pain in the back of her neck, as if something sharp had been stabbed into her. ...

I had been sitting on my couch working on a new book on the history of the transgender community. I was in the editing stage of it so my mind was naturally wandering. I had been told by my doctor that we would have to delay hormone therapy because they needed to do more checks, though it was clear I would be able to get them once that had passed. It was just another tough step in the process of being transgender. I so wanted to see myself as female but even when I went all out I still was bugged by the fact that I looked like a man. My partner understood that, though she wasn’t transgender. She was an engineer, working at big time job at the nearby aerospace place. ...

Rape Fantasy, Semi-non consensual, Oral, Anal, King’s Crown, Queen’s Crown, Public Nudity, Public Sex, MMM/F, MMF/F, M/F = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Modern technology helps solve a modern problem. The #metoo movement is helping to right many wrongs in our society, but it is also making it much more difficult for men and women to interact, especially in flirting or casual pickup situations. But modern technology is always ready to offer a solution to any problem. ...

Non-consensual, Public Bondage, Public Humiliation, Public Shaving, Naked in Public, Public Sex, Public Spanking, Public Threesome, Mouth to Ass, Public Anal, Mouth to Cunt, Masturbation, Pain Slut = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Olivia’s alter ego Oyly is released in a public performance. Olivia Franklin awakes to find herself in a strange theater where she is forced to participate in an erotic performance involving humiliation, spanking, masturbation, and several other interesting sexual practices. At the end of the performance she is called upon to make what is perhaps the most important decision of her life. ...

Story continued from part three Part 4: Harem Girl Snake swallowing female I had wanted to act out a scene that I had been fantasising about for a while, one that had brought out many wonderful orgasms whilst the images had flooded through my mind. I had made sure that the snake would next need to be fed when Jerry, my husband, was home from work, he would become part of my fantasy scenario, though he didn’t know that just yet. ...

story continued from chapter four Chapter 5: Fido I had asked Richard to build me a dog house, one that was large enough for a very big dog, maybe like a Saint Bernard. When he gave the excuse that we didn’t have a dog, I told him that I was thinking about getting one. I told him I wanted the dog house set on a concrete pad. He built a form for the concrete pad and I watched as the concrete was poured. While the concrete was still soft, I buried a large eye bolt deep into it with just the “eye” sticking out. I had bent the eye bolt before sinking it into the concrete, so there was no way it could come out. It took him the next few evenings and half a weekend building the dog house, until he finally finished it, and what a fine dog house it was! ...

story continued from chapter three Chapter 4: A Day in the Country After being purely a sex object for Krissy and her three girlfriends, I had all the sex I wanted for a few days. When all the girls left my house in the wee hours of the morning, I untied Richard and he and I slept into most of the next day. It wasn’t until the following weekend that I suggested we take a drive out into the country. I had put a shovel and some bondage toys in the trunk of my car in preparation for my plan. ...

story continued from chapter two Chapter 3: You like shoes, right? I wanted to play a little game with Richard, something kinky, something really different. I have always had this fantasy about going shoe shopping and having the shoe salesman (not Al Bundy) end up giving me a foot massage. In my fantasy, it would start with a touch of my instep and gradually, with each pair of shoes I tried on, would get elevated to a full foot massage. My idea was for Richard to pose as a shoe salesman and live out my fantasy, but not with me. With some unsuspecting hot lady! ...

Richard and I have been dating for about 6 months and our relationship is starting to get very serious. We have many interests in common and our values are very similar, except for politics, but that is not that important in a relationship. It is not my fault if he is wrong. We have vacationed together twice. I think this is a good test for a relationship, and we have survived both times. ...

story continued from chapter one Chapter 2: The Chicken Dance I have been doing a lot of thinking about my training of Richard lately. He certainly has not complained at all about the recent changes in our play sessions. (I can’t call them love making sessions because there has not been what I call love taking place.) I did decide that I wanted to make my life easier, of course. I wanted some leather wrist cuffs so I would not have to tie knots. I found some very nice toys at the Stockroom.com on the net. They have a very nice selection, decent prices, and prompt delivery. (I recommend them highly.) I also purchased some ankle cuffs while I was online shopping. I had already purchased some keyed alike padlocks. I have found the sound of the lock clicking closed to be quite stimulating. Something about the total security of the bondage, knowing that escape is not possible when the lock snaps closed. ...

story continued from part five Chapter Six Handcuffs. Ball gags x2 Rope of 3 different types. Gaffer tape. Nipple clamps. Hoods x2 Dildos of various lengths etc 4 Butt plugs x3 including 1 electro. Tens unit. Whip Straps x6 Leather harnesses x2 Sounds like a rape kit, but no this is all what you have to take on holiday if you are going with Claire. That’s also why we can only go in the UK if we are intending to play. Anyway being a master and film producer is not easy. I mean for god’s sake the pressure to come up with new story lines and different styles of bondage are to be honest so hard. Yes I know not a good reason to moan but it adds to the pressure to entertain. ...

Chapter 1 (A Window Worker Story) The majority of business students at Jessica’s university had decided to make their fortunes in the city upon graduating. The usual corporate types who buy and sell on the stock markets, shifting piles of clients’ money around in a glorified gambling house, betting that China would not do as well as Russia in trade negotiations with the West, or that the new Alaskan oil field would produce a tidy return for its investors. Bankers, financiers and the usual cliché that graduates could look forward to with a 1:1 degree that Jessica was, unless she messed up badly on the final term, projected to get. However profitable this life promised to be, it held little interest for her. No, the way Jessica saw her talents being used were in the production field. Although many Western countries manufactured a variety of high tech engineering products, like cars and satellites, the real opportunities were in the East. Japan had enjoyed a high level of economic growth for some time. Malaysia was fast catching up and many high tech metal and carbon fibre components had been produced in these countries. China had looked promising for a time, but their growth had stalled. However, oil and gas from Russian pipelines, combined with minerals and natural resources from Africa, which China had been grooming since the 50s, meant that when the country eventually got its butt into gear, it would be very dangerous indeed. So since this was where the future was, this would be where Jessica would be. She had therefore learned several languages. Although her Malay was a little weak, she was fluent in Japanese and Chinese Mandarin and was quite strong in several other dialects and languages. She was therefore confident, having also spent a gap year working in a global cycle manufacturing plant in Asia that she could land the career that she wanted when she qualified. Her parents had also travelled widely when she was growing up, which is why Jessica was able to pick up languages quickly. In addition to study, Jessica spent her free time enjoying the benefits of a university town with broad range of societies. Because she was studying at Cambridge she might have expected to join a rowing club. However, cycling is quite popular in the city and so she joined the Cambridge Union Cycling Club, who would do regular rides into the fens. This would involve a midweek evening ride of about two hours and then a Sunday ride of four or five hours, or around fifty miles. Somehow these rides always ended up at a pub in the middle of nowhere. She also liked running and had won a few medals with the running society. Between the running and the cycling, it was fair to say that her legs were quite strong. She also indulged her creative side by joining the Cambridge Union Pottery Society. CUPS enjoyed a reasonably equipped studio in the basement of one of the colleges, with three electric wheels, a couple of kick wheels, wooden benches, a drying cupboard, a large front loading kiln and enough raw materials to mix up a wide variety of glazes. Jessica like to throw large pots on the wheel. Centring and throwing 12 kg of clay at a time takes a lot of effort and this helped her to develop a reasonable amount of strength in her arms and actually helped to develop her abs. This diversity of activities, along with long hours of study, meant that as well as gaining a good degree, she was popular, had a good circle of friends and was quite fit. During the final year Jessica applied for several positions and also showed her face at the college milk round, where companies come to the university in an employment fair, to attract the brightest and the best that Cambridge had to offer. Tanaka was high on Jessica’s wish list, as they were a long established international manufacturer specialising in electronics. As well as the usual consumer items, Tanaka also boasted a robotics division and a medical division. The fact that this company diversified into several branches meant that there was plenty of opportunity for a young, ambitious woman like Jessica. Another reason why she was targeting a Japanese company, who had traditionally safeguarded the high ranking jobs for the Japanese, was that a falling birth rate on the mainland had opened up avenues which were usually closed to Westerners. Jessica shared her dorms with Holly. Holly, although bright, was easily led and influenced. A bit ditsy at times, but still great for a girls night out and generally a good housemate. Jessica had just finished up Tanakas application and had gone into the lounge for a coffee. “God Holly, I have got so much work to do. But this is a dream job. What about you?” “I don’t have much on at the moment. I have a few jobs that look interesting. I have also applied for Tanaka. All of these applications are pretty much all the same, so it should be a matter of just copying a lot of the text from one of the other forms,” Holly offered. Jessica considered for several moments before answering. “No I think I will do an individual application. If you could have a look at the last one and let me know what you think I would be grateful though. I have pretty much completed it. Just a silly psychological questionnaire to fill out and it’s done. That would allow me to go over my assignment one last time before moving onto the class project for Friday.” Holly readily agreed and within minutes had taken Jessica’s place at the computer looking at the multiple choice questionnaire. She must have done a reasonable job, Jessica mused as she sat on the plane, some six months later, heading for one of Tanakas production facilities on a small pacific island. Not only had Jessica got the job, but Holly had flown out a few weeks earlier. So, she mused, her proof reading and ideas for Hollies application must have been reasonable. Holly was not in the production facility though, so she may not be able to hook up with her old room mate straight away. Looking out of the window the view was not overly inspiring. It was a typically self-contained, workers island, where everything belonged to the company. It was similar, in many respects, to the industrial towns of the 19th century, but with better beaches and better workers cottages. In any event, having Tanaka on her CV would not hurt and it offered a great deal of opportunity for the graduate. Strangely, when it came, the interview had been remarkably straightforward. She had splashed out on an interview suit from a second hand shop, in a deep green that showed off her eyes to the best, making them appear larger and deeper. Her long black hair held up by a chop stick arrangement, allowed her freshly curled hair to cascade down her neck, while simple drop gold ear rings subtly stated her elegance. The short skirt helped to show off her long legs, as did the three inch black court shoe. Overall, she was pleased with the effect. It had taken a reasonable effort to get her to this stage, starting with the application form, she had then carried out a telephone interview where she had to answer a series of stock questions. She was then invited to a group interview at the regional offices, where along with thirty people, she was to spend the day performing various group related tasks that eventually led her to be shortlisted for a more traditional panel interview the following week. The panel itself consisted of a regional manager, a member of the HR team and then another manager from, well she was not sure, but she would say that he was from the corporate side of the business. A probing series of questions filled the next hour as Jessica put all of her communication skills to best effect. They asked her about her course, her plans and career goals, as well as her sport and interest in fitness. They seemed particularly pleased with her running prowess and felt that she may be a good candidate to join Tanaka. This was confirmed in writing shortly after and now, just a few weeks after the interview, Jessica Reynolds found herself looking out of the window of the twin engine turbo propped aircraft as it lost height and banked on its approach to a small airfield on the North of an Island owned by the company. To say that she had been whisked off of her feet was an understatement. She had very little time to arrange for furniture to be sold, or gifted to her friends, while her entire life had been crammed into two suitcases. Twenty four years of life and all that she had to show for it was compacted down into the hold of a small aircraft, her life lost amidst the luggage of the three passengers who she shared the cabin with. She idly wondered if they had an equally fast life changing experience. They had made pleasant conversation about nothing in particular, but the talk had quickly subsided now that they approached their destination. It had been a gruelling series of flights to get her this far, flying half way around the world before eventually landing in Tokyo, staying overnight in a hotel near the airport, before climbing onto a charter flight out to one of the islands owned by Tanaka. The island itself, as far as she could see, looked quite modern. Although she had watched the corporate videos, she had still expected palm trees and dirt roads. There were palm trees, but the roads looked well paved. In addition to this she could make out the urban sprawl of modern workers accommodations, shops and parks. The aircraft banked again and lined up for final approach. As it banked she could make out industrial buildings and warehouses rushing towards her as the small aircraft fell from the sky. As the plane levelled out she eventually lost site of the crystal clear turquoise sea, to be replaced by a yellow flash of sand and then the final descent onto tarmac, jarring her from her comfortable contemplation as buildings on the other side of the airport rushed past to the sound of the engines and the sharp squeal of tyres. Eventually the headlong rush slowed and a simple one story terminal building came into site as the plane taxied closer, stopping at its designated parking area. As the plane eventually stopped Jessica unbuckled her seat and retrieved her hand luggage. She hated waiting, but knew that she would be unloaded and deposited at the speed set by the crew of the aircraft as they completed various checks before leaving the cabin and opening the door to the front of the aircraft, having first watched a small vehicle approach and align its boarding steps up with the aircraft door. The peace and quiet were now shattered as she disembarked and worked her way through customs, retrieving her luggage beforehand and, along with the other passengers, being met at the terminal by a small Japanese woman holding a placard containing Jessica’s name, along with those of the other passengers. She had expected heat and she had expected some discomfort, having come directly from a moderately cool Cambridge, to a much warmer Japanese mainland airport, she thought she knew what the climate would be like. However, the southward journey to the actual island felt like the temperature had ramped up to gas mark 5 on the oven and she was blasted by a wall of heat as she stepped out of the plane. This was the height of summer though and she had been expecting something of this nature. But reality was always different to your expectations and she mentally groaned as she noted dark sweat patches start to form under her arms. Another hour in a seven seater car saw Jessica the third person to be deposited at her lodgings on the other side of the island. She was met by another company representative and shown to her apartment complex which boasted a swimming pool and, according to the representative, a small shopping area on the other side of the complex. Jessica was too tired to care. Having said her goodbyes to her guide, who would come to collect her the following day for her orientation, Jessica found herself showered, wearing a comfortable light cotton nightie and collapsing into bed. Jessica awoke in the early morning with the sunrise just pouring through the open window of her apartment. She had not pulled the blinds and that was the reason for her early awakening. Leaning over she grabbed her mobile phone to check the time. At the moment her phone was quite useless, but once she could set up WiFi she should be able to access the internet. She was not sure about telephone contracts on the island, but would ask about this during her orientation. The apartment had the feel of a hotel suite, as well as a guest information brochure. Reading through the brochure enabled her to access the employee social internet on her phone, but could not access the employee sections of the company site until she had completed her induction. During breakfast of a fruit salad from the basket she had found, as a part of her welcome pack in the kitchen, she had watched the news while she marshalled her thoughts for the coming day. The international news was the usual mixture of wars and politics. The local news held more interest. Jessica had been following the story, since she left England, of a Japanese athlete who had been struck by meningitis. She had become a quadruple amputee. Jessica could not imagine what she was going through, but she was recovering slowly and she had stated that she intended to resume her running career and enter the Paralympics. Jessica could not help but be inspired. After a longish shower, where she took care to shave her legs and arm pits, Jessica sorted through the outfits that she had unpacked yesterday. A simple lightweight skirt and jacket in light choral, combined with an ivory blouse gave the correct business impression, while remaining lightweight enough to stay comfortable, she felt that she would make a good impression on her first day. Twenty minutes later, having made up her face, brushed her hair and selected simple jewellery, she was ready when she heard a knock at the door. A small Japanese man in a lightweight business suit stood at the door smiling broadly. The Orientals are typically smaller than westerners. Jessica being quite tall for a woman anyway, at five foot ten, but even so she doubted that the skinny businessman standing before her could have been more than four foot five. “Ohayō gozaimasu Townsend San?” the man stated before bowing to the precise angle required for a formal greeting. Jessica smiled before answering that she was, returning the bow. “I am Mr Yamato. I am your induction co-ordinator and trainee liaison. If you will follow me, we will head over to the main offices and start your induction”. Jessica was instantly grateful for all of the time that she had spent learning the language and, after exchanging a few pleasantries and retrieving her hand bag, she followed Mr Yamato out of the building towards one of the many bus stops around the island. They did not have long to wait before a small bus arrived. Although there were a few people on the bus it was not what Jessica would consider crowded. Not after some of her experiences with public transport in England. However, soon she was seated next to her diminutive colleague, exchanging the usual bland pleasantries that fill the time and help to forge business relationships. The next seven hours were to prove a whirlwind of activity. After signing in at reception and going through security to get an employee ID and become registered on the IT systems, she had to sit through an hour long induction speech. This was followed by a whirlwind tour of the head office and surrounding buildings, before being shown to the office where she would be working. Mr Yamato proved to be an invaluable guide, easing her through the various stages of induction. “So how long will you be with me Yamato San?” Jessica asked. “Typically I will be working closely with you for the first two weeks. After that I will leave you to settle in. Since you are a part of the management training program, I will act as a liaison between you and the company to ensure that you are able to gain all of the training, throughout the various departments, for the remainder of the course. You are not the only management trainee that we have on the island. In fact all of the trainees are in your apartment block. I live in apartment 7a, so that you can talk to me at any time. As well as the monthly one to ones, I like to have an open door policy for those in my charge, so that they can come and find me at any time to discuss issues that they might have.” Staggering through the door some hours later, Jessica felt exhausted. She had come home on the same bus as her liaison, but had stopped at the corner shop to get some essentials in. In addition to this she had been given two sets of the company uniform, a nondescript grey trouser and jacket affair, with a peaked cap. The company logo was emblazoned on the left breast. Despite the bland mouse grey colour, she still liked what it did to show off her curves. After making a cup of tea she put the radio on and began to cook her evening meal. After lunch she spent her time reading the company literature and induction booklets, while listening to the TV on the background. Over the next few weeks Jessica got into a routine of jogging, before breakfast when the day was still moderately cool and then heading for work after a quick shower. She started to make friends and generally find her feet as she settled into the company. She had met Holly on the occasional Sunday, for a get together and meal, as well as texting every other day. But other than that, at the weekends she shopped, pre-cooked ready meals and also explored the local area for things to do. She even found a traditional potter and went to visit him in his studio. Unlike western wheels, the Japanese use kick wheels that are sunk into the floor so that the potter sits over the wheel and kicks a wheel attached to the lower part of the assembly below ground level. It was fascinating to watch and she was even permitted to have a go on the wheel. She bought a traditional tea set for her home. Unlike a British tea pot, the Japanese have a handle protruding out of the side, similar to a soup bowl. This has been thrown as a cylinder before being stuck on to the side, rather than the rear of the pot, at a 90 degree angle to the spout. A simple Celadon glaze finishing off the pot and handle less cups nicely. This, she felt, would be an importance piece of ceramic to own if she invited friends around for tea. Unfortunately, cycles were a bit of a luxury item on the island, given how much it would cost to get one shipped over from the mainland. As such she would not be able to indulge in her passion for some time. She therefore had to be content with jogging until such time as she could order a bike, since she had already seen some likely trails for training. She did not limit her jogs to the local circuit that she used in the morning and would usually explore further afield at the weekend. One such foray gave her pause for thought. Jessica was out jogging on one of the footpaths that linked the various worker villages on a Saturday morning when she came to a main park. As she was jogging along she thought she saw a Pokemon. Stopping in her tracks she looked more closely and no she was not mistaken. A Pokemon was walking on four stubby legs along the path ahead of her, being led on a lead by a young Japanese woman. The pair disappeared into the trees ahead of her, on a path that branched towards a series of worker cottages. She was tempted to follow them, but did not want to appear rude. However, she had trouble gaining her rhythm for another half a mile. Although perplexing, she did not want to disturb Mr Yamato and so waited until Monday morning before questioning him about it. They still travelled in on the bus and so she brought up the subject when she sat next to him. “Yamato san. I saw something quite extraordinary over the weekend and hoped that you could help me”. Mr Yamato considered. “I would be more than happy to help you with any questions that you have. This is what I am paid for after all Townsend san”. “I was out jogging the other day and, while running through one of the parks, I thought I saw a woman leading a Pokemon on a lead along one of the parks. Ummmm. I know I did not imagine it, but what is going on? Why would somebody dress up in costume?” Mr Yamato smiled before answering. “You have heard of Aname?” “Yes. It is a major part of modern Japanese culture. I have heard that people like to dress up as characters and go to conventions. Is that what is happening here?” “Yes. Many of our workers love Aname and like to dress up as their favourite characters for parties or functions. We even have two Commicon events each year, which some of the staff love to attend. The next one is due next month. I can send you the details if you would like Townsend san?” Mr Yamato beamed. Jessica considered before beaming a wide smile in return. “Yes. I think I would like that. Thank you Yamato san.” ...

Trevor had been making wicker baskets for more than twenty years and had built up a thriving business exporting all over the world with his standard and bespoke lines, he prided himself on being able to make a basket to almost any design and had created some really amazing ones. He has several commissions to complete this week so time to get stuck in. Before he could get going the door bell rings and who should it be but Lori, the last person he wanted to see, she hangs around the workshop regularly and is a bit of a pain, although she is a stunner, very small but with a stunning figure and a really beautiful face, but she is still a bloody nuisance always turning up when he’s really busy. ...

story continued from part one Part 2 Nina was paralysed with terror. Shit, shit, shit! For a while, she couldn’t and didn’t want to believe what had just happened and what it meant for her. She was in deep trouble! Without that key, she stood zero chance of freeing herself and being bound, blindfolded and almost unable to move she would not able to recover it, not even if she had a hundred years and already knew the hiding place of Christian’s hoard – which she did not. Given how she had put on the blindfold, there was no way for her to get it off her head and in this regard she could rely on a rich treasure trove of pertinent experience. She would not be able to operate her smartphone in this state and the locked front door likewise represented an insurmountable obstacle. No one would miss her before Monday and so her only hope was that her parents, colleagues, neighbours or someone else would notice her disappearance and alert the authorities before she died of thirst. Or was it more likely for her to die because of an embolism first? Nina realised that she had begun to hyperventilate and with an effort brought her breathing back under control. Fainting was only a reasonable survival strategy if there was a dashing hero around ready to save the distressed damsel. With some considerable effort she pushed her fear aside and gave in to her rage and anger instead. ...

Part 1 It was time once again. Nina had left for the weekend two hours early because she was certain she would burst if she did not do something about the frustration that had accumulated over the working week. Especially about the sexual frustration: She’d left Robert almost four weeks ago and had not had sex since. It was not the case that no willing partner had offered himself though; on the contrary, there had been no shortage of advances since word had spread that she was ‘on the market again’. If she’d accepted all invitations for coffee, she probably would not have been able to sleep for weeks - the customary fate of an attractive woman working in a predominantly male domain. Then again, nerd biotope would probably be a more apt description; Nina could not fathom why many of her colleagues apparently tried hard to match the characters from ‘The Big Bang Theory’ in both appearance and habitus. Consequently, among her would-be consolers, there had been mostly consolation prizes, and not a single man she would have considered fit to satisfy her very special needs. Those which Robert had satisfied like none before him - and perhaps none after. ...

This is a fantasy of mine that I decided to write up. Describing myself if you haven’t read my true bondage story “Thursday at 7”, I’m 6ft 4, 210 pounds. I lift and stay in shape, as you’ll see when you start to read, hope you enjoy 😊 My muscles strain as I try to pull myself up to the bar, 3 quarters of the way up I let go and plant my feet on the ground. Not good enough I think to myself ascending my wooden staircase out of my basement. Biceps bulging, back tense, legs a little shaky from deadlifting I drink my post workout shake and jump in an ice-cold shower, the feeling of the cold-water invigorating as it touches my skin. I thoroughly clean myself and hop out of the shower and glimpse in the mirror the changes I’ve made. The dad bod is gone, replaced with broad shoulders, a v tapered back, defined arms and chest, still no six pack but any progress is better than none. I give myself a quick dry off and wrap the towel around my waist, walking down the hall towards my room, I walk in and collapse on my bed without even bothering to get dressed. I lay on my side and close my eyes, drifting off into sleep… ...

Chapter 1 My name is Anna. I just had the most incredible, fantastic, spectacular, awesome sex!!! Before I tell you about it, I have to give you some information leading up to this moment. I have been married to a great guy for almost three years. He is handsome, smart, kind, and considerate. He is a hard-worker, has a good job, is well mannered and has good personal hygiene. He is almost perfect and most women would say I am lucky to be married to such a great guy. I suppose I should be happy to settle for a guy so close to perfect, but I just can’t. His only fault is in the bedroom. His idea of love making is plain old boring sex or no sex at all. ...

(story continues from The Sex Dolly Factory 3) Part 4a: The Criminals Part 1 The town was becoming more populated as the decades went by, with more people entering and being born than leaving or dying. In a few more years, the town could be reclassified as an actual city, which is what the local politicians want more than anything. There were now more than 200,000 people living within the town’s borders. New building construction inside the center of town has begun on buildings that were over ten stories tall. Public transportation now included over 60 busses. The new city hall is schedeuled to open next year with over fifty offices, not including the mayor’s office, ten criminal courtrooms, holding cells, a bail bondsman on site, a fully stocked cafeteria, and a daycare center for the town’s employees who can’t afford a sitter. The only problem with this growth spurt is the inherent rise in crime that goes along with it. ...

Part 1 A week of chaperoning a class of high school kids around a bunch of museums and art gallery in Istanbul; what could be easier. Especially with the fact that this was a History trip and I’m a PE teacher, so all I had to do was make sure we didn’t leave any kids behind. So, for the past 3 days all I had been doing was counting to 24, after 3 other teachers had counted to 24. I was dying of boredom and to make matters worse we were staying in a Hotel in Arnavutkoy, miles away from the centre of Istanbul. So, my evenings were filled with unruly teenagers with nothing to do and the endless droning of the history / art faculty debating some pointless topic from the day’s events. All I could think was ‘Welcome to Hell’. 3 days down 4 to go. ...

Mathew and Ashley had been friends since childhood, they lived right across the street from each other and did everything together. Ashley was always in the lead, dragging Mathew to almost every adventure she wanted. Mathew was timid and most of the time just did whatever Ashley told him to do. Growing up, Ashley turned into a bombshell blonde, the perfect DD rack, just the right height at 5’5”, and a curvaceous body toned with hours spent in the gym. Mathew never really bit much bigger, barely breaking the 5’9” mark, always skinny but toned just enough from his hard, labor intensive jobs, and a ratty looking man bun acquired from years of not cutting his hair. Ashley graduated high school and proceeded to move onto college with a full scholarship while Mathew had to work days to afford his night classes. They weren’t joined at the hip like they used to be but Ashley still made the effort to hang out with him, despite his social awkwardness and her sorority’s dislike of beta males. Ashley was moving into her capstone project for her senior year, being the extremely intelligent girl she was she had taken on a massive project, building a machine that could be used to hypnotize people. That was the simplest way she could describe it. The focus was set to help people overcome fears or bad habits, for example smoking or the fear of flying. The machine would take in a “patient” as she liked to put it, then expose them to audio and visual, sometimes even physical stimulation, to essentially rewire their brain to accept what ever they wanted. With tests, they were finding that even people that showed strong resistance to hypnosis could be hypnotized and in little as one session quit smoking for example. The machine was getting a lot of attention and buzz around campus, and Ashley was close to publishing her research, she just had to test how far the machine could be taken, spending countless sleepless nights writing a variety of programs for any number of applications. Now she just needed a willing subject. Ashley approached Mathew on a Wednesday night, waiting for him outside of his last night class. “Hey Pat, so I was wondering, would you be willing to give my machine a test run for me, I know you’ve been wanting to quit smoking for awhile now and the machine could help you kick the nasty habit” she said, her innocent smile always Pat’s first warning when she was up to something. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: The Pony Girls Strike Again She caught up with me in an unguarded moment while I was lost in thought. I was looking at her stallion. Her real stallion. A huge, dark brown beast of a horse standing quietly in his stall. He was harnessed in a specially made dark leather harness of especially sturdy straps to tame the wilful beast. A sturdy leather harness that made me go weak at the knees. Straps thicker and stronger than she needed for any of her other horses because he was a strong beast and given to be uncontrollable. ...

“I have heard you have a fantastic lava cake.” “Quite correct, it is rather legendary.” “Excellent, I’ll have it.” “Good choice, Sir, what about you, Madam?”. You seem conflicted as we had a big main course and you wanted to watch your weight over the weekend after all. “Would you bring us two spoons so we can share?”, you finally ask. “Very well.”, The waiter scuttles off and I raise my eyebrows at you. ...

story continues from part three Day 4 After the torments of day 3 were over and I collapsed onto my mattress I was unable to get any sleep at all. I had just lay there awake all night crying and thinking about my situation, about how trapped I was. I had never felt more helpless and alone in my life, I doubted anyone ever had. Everyday of my sentence so far I had made some infraction of the rules and earned more days to my sentence. I was terrified that my torment might never end; I would be tortured here day after day until I finally died in misery and pain. ...

story continued from part three Chapter Four It was cold; very clear and frosty. Claire was standing looking at the trees as the morning’s light glowed off the sun’s first rays as it reflected off the shiny white sheet of the lawn. I saw her in silhouette as she pulled the curtains back. Her breasts were white and topped with those nipples that I’d kissed and sucked on only a few hours before. The curve of her hips and buttocks showed gloriously in the shadows. Seeing me looking at her, she moved to the bedside and slid under the covers. ...

story continued from part four Chapter Five Naked and hog tied on the barn floor the girl struggles to reach the open door. Bits of straw are sticking to the mud that smears her bulging breasts. The rope around the base of each rounded red orb makes them throb in time with her pounding heart. A look of fear and pain is able to be seen in her eyes which are tear-streaked. ...

The characters and situations in this story are a work of fiction. Permission to use the characters in this story has been given by their original creator, Andy Latex as noted in his blog Smooth Slick N Shiny. This story is meant as an ‘alternate reality’ of his fictional universe. continued from part 9 Part 10 Will was holding Andy in his arms as he slowly woke. Andy, his oh, so sweet and gentle Andy. Despite that Andy was a sissy, William had never felt someone so feminine and responsive before. Andy wanted to please Will as much as possible and shared himself without hesitation or guilt. His soft moans as William thrust inside him. His lips gently travelling up and down Will’s shaft; providing hours of pleasure. Where DID Andy learn this? ...

Story continued from part two Part 3: Alice Snake swallowing female “Errm, Honey, I don’t know how to say this, but the gel you used is the concentrated version, it’ll take much longer for the snake to digest and absorb. I hope that you haven’t had anything planned for the next day or so, I don’t know how long this stuff will take to be digested by the snake.” I’d just been informed by my husband that the gel I’d covered my naked body with to feed the snake was a longer lasting, more concentrated version, and that I would be stuck here inside the snake’s belly for longer than I first expected. Not that the news was bad, I was happy and contented here inside the belly of the beast, it was warm, snug and comfortable, and I enjoyed my time inside of the snake, if you know what I mean! ...

story continued from part one Chapter Two I awoke to find a naked woman in my bed. Well when I say naked I mean she was wearing a tee shirt and nothing else; and her hair was tumbling in a mass on the pillow beside me. I rolled over and kissed her nose. I felt sorry for her. Yesterday’s revelations must have shocked her. I meant to find out. She’d just learned that her grandparents were perverts. That’s one thing, but to find out that they ran a successful porn company was another; not to mention the thousands of photos, clamps, whips etc. that went with it. ...

story continued from part two Chapter Three The week had been hell for me at work. The whole time I couldn’t take my mind off the past weekend’s events. To be truthful with you I’d wanked myself silly over the couple of videos I’d smuggled out from the house. We’d talked a lot over the phone and she was looking forward to the weekend’s trip to Belgium. The frustration of Debbie turning up had added to the sexual tension that was growing. ...

This story is told exactly as it happened and is true. I am a professional Dominatrix. I can be contacted by anyone at [email protected] My website is www.Empressraquel.com I am Empress Raquel. I have the most well-appointed dungeon in all of South Florida. It is known as The Keep. I am booked for weeks and even months in advance. Whenever a new couple first contacts me for a session, one of them has usually agreed to play the role of the spokesperson. This does not necessarily mean the other is reluctant, although I am told that I can be a bit intimidating. ...

(story continues from The Sex Dolly Factory 2) Part 3: The Model Mannequins Mary was both excited and nervous about her first modelling job. She couldn’t sit still and she also felt like she was going to throw up. She wasn’t exactly plain, nor was she cover girl material, but she was offered the gig nonetheless. She chalked it up to her best friend, Paula, the raven haired second generation Italian beauty who has been her best friend since the second grade. Paula was the super model while she was ‘The girl next door that you have a chance with.’ It was Paula’s idea to move to the city and become models. Mary wanted to go onto college, but without a scholarship there was no way that her family could pay for it. Paula argued that she would have plenty of cash within two years to pay for any college she wanted. All they had to do was walk around in frilly dresses or skimpy bikinis, and people would literally throw money at them. Seemed like a sweet deal at the time, but that was three months ago, and now a job at a fast food restaurant sounded appealing. Neither girl knew anything about the modelling world, and the lack of knowledge caused them to run through all of their savings really fast. Without a reputable agent behind them, they weren’t getting any offers. Disreputable agents were everywhere, and they wanted the two nineteen year olds to do porn. They both agreed to each other, “Shit shovelers before porn stars.” It was 4:30 in the morning, and Mary kept looking out the window of their small, one bedroom fourth floor apartment, looking for the car that was coming to pick them up. They had been hired to pose for mannequin molds for Flozell’s department store. The gig started at 5 AM and was going to take all day to do. Some type of body casting so they could make several mannequins based on their bodies. They even took hair samples to make sure they got the wigs to match as well. She heard of body molds of actors being made for movies, but never of a whole body. She did some research on the internet and found out that NASA did something similar to their early astronauts to make their suits and seats inside the modules. She found this interesting, whereas Paula simply asked, “Will it cause my skin to break out?” Paula was sitting on the worn out, third-hand sofa, watching her friend pace back and forth like a panther in the zoo. Of the two of them, she was the calm one. Not that there was anything wrong with her mentally, it was just that she was so attractive that she never had to wait on anything or anyone. She was more dismissive, yet dominant in her demeanor, which was an extreme contrast to Mary’s excitable yet submissive outlook. Confident to Mary’s uneasiness. That’s probably why they’ve been friends for so long. They just complimented each other so well. “Will you please stop pacing?” Paula asked as she got up from the sofa, “You’re gonna walk a hole through the floor.” “I’m sorry,” Mary replied as she looked at her cellphone, “But it’s 4:35 and no one’s here, and no one’s called. They must’ve cancelled. They cancelled and they didn’t call. They think we’re not worth calling.” Her pacing picked up speed, and her face took up a very worried look. Paula let out a little giggle. She reached out and grabbed her friend on her next pass and pulled her close into a big hug. “Oh, what am I gonna do with you? Calm down. They show up when they show up. If they don’t show up, well, that’s their loss. Worrying only leads to early facial wrinkles. Take a few deep breaths and relax, will you?” She held Mary until she finally calmed down enough to stand still on her own. She then pulled her away to arm’s length and looked into her eyes. “There. That’s better. I was afraid that I was gonna hafta slap you, Plain Jane.” Mary giggled a little herself. “You may be bigger than me, but I will defend myself, Topheavy.” Both girls started laughing. As is with all good friends, tensions are easily diffused with some good-natured ribbing. Mary was nicknamed by Paula “Plain Jane” in high school for her plain body build and Paula was nicknamed by Mary “Topheavy” since the sixth grade when she quickly developed breasts almost overnight. Heaven help the soul that ever tried to use these nicknames on them because both girls defended each other like sisters. No one picked on Mary while Paula was around, and no one picked on Paula while Mary was around. Suddenly a car horn sounded outside the window. Paula looked this time to see a large black luxury car double parked outside. It looked like a Cadillac, or maybe a Lincoln. It didn’t really matter what kind it was, it was here to take them into their dreams. The money was about to start flowing in like a river, and the fifty thousand each were getting for this job was like opening up the dam. Paula turned to Mary and gave an incredibly huge smile. Mary smiled back, and then both started for the door. Mary shut off her cellphone and placed it on the table next to the sofa. “Hey,” she called to Paula, who was halfway out the door. “Remember? No cellphones. Leave it here.” “No way. I don’t go anywhere without my phone.” “Remember what we were told? No phones, cameras, or recording stuff at the factory, or we don’t get the job.” “Stupid rule,” Paula said with a huff, as she came back into the room. She removed her cellphone from her purse and put it down next to Mary’s. “I don’t see why we can’t have it. It’s not like we’re gonna call in an air strike or something.” “Fifty thousand dollars,” was Mary’s only reply. Paula stared at Mary for a few seconds. “Great argument. I’ll concede that fact. Now let’s go. Our chariot awaits!” The girls gave each other a giddy hug, then rushed out the door. They went down the four flights of steps as fast as their high heels could take them. Mary was so excited, she thought she was floating down the stairs. Paula had to go more carefully because too much bouncing made her heavy breasts hurt after a while, but she made it down in good time. Once at the bottom of the stairs, they quickly composed themselves as they went for the front door. They both checked their clothes for wrinkles or imperfections, and Paula had to retuck her blouse back into her skirt. Mary had to push her long brown hair back behind her ears so she could see again. With a simple nod to each other, they flung the front door open. ************** Renee Flozell has been the merchandising manager for the department store chain her grandfather started since graduating college. You could say that it was nepotism that made her a vice president, but she liked to think that it was her hard work and determination. A twenty-seven year old woman sitting on the board of directors is almost unheard of anywhere, unless that woman got there on her back. This was not her case, and she has the diplomas and track record to prove it. Ever since she took over the merchandising and displays of the stores, sales had risen at least 30% across the board, with a 50% rise in women’s clothing. Most of her success had come from simply making the products more appealing to the target customers through attractive and innovative displays. This was especially true with the new mannequins she made the stores buy. The previous mannequins were simple generic faceless white plastic statues with no real features to accentuate the clothing they were wearing. She thought it was like tacking the clothes to a wall. No one could really tell how well they would hang on a real human body. She fought with her father, the current owner and CEO of the chain, to get more realistic clothing displays. Throwing down the gauntlet, he told her that he would buy three of them as a trial. She bought three female mannequins four days later from a friend that she went to college with, and all three had different body types, sizes, and heights, as well as lifelike hair and faces. She used them for the summer bathing suit roll-out, and they were a big success. Within a month, sales of bathing suits in the store the mannequins were placed in jumped 70%. Suddenly, Renee had a blank check and was a vice president. The first thing she did was to sign a contract with Exclusive Products Co. for all of their current and future mannequin needs. Her friend, Dr. Rebecca Evers, was the lead scientist with this company, and was the major contributor to both sides of the contract. Flozell’s would come to Exclusive Products for all of their mannequin needs, and Exclusive Products would give steep discounts. Also, Flozell’s would recommend Exclusive Products ‘in stock’ mannequins to other companies and stores. All in all, it was very beneficial to both parties. Renee did know about how they made the mannequins, and that they made deluxe sex dollies almost the same way, but this didn’t bother her. She had her fill of stuck-up prissy little beauty queens since boarding school. She was a beauty herself, and a nice body with a luxurious head of light brown hair, but she had a very bad case of acne as an early teen, which left her face with several pock-marked scars across both cheeks, her nose, and her forehead. She was picked on mercilessly by the other girls because of this superficial deformity, and she never forgot or forgave. Some of the deepest scars can’t be seen. There were only two things that helped her keep her sanity when she made it to college: A kid genius lesbian, Rebecca, who was a kindred spirit from also being picked on, and an incredibly sensitive nerd boy, Tommy, who saw the real woman inside. She had remained a good friend with Becky, even though one time Becky got drunk and made an aggressive pass at her while they were sophomores (Becky apologized profusely later, then they both had a good laugh). Tommy had proposed to Renee last Christmas, and their wedding is planned for two weeks after he earns his Phd, which is hopefully this fall. Right now, Renee is waiting for two inexperienced models to come down to the car she was sitting in. The driver, Eric, works security for Exclusive Products Co., and he helps procure the new talent. He has been doing this for a long time, and he knows how to do his job. After they leave here, no one will ever see this car again, especially not the real owner, who will probably report it stolen when he wakes up in a few hours. He was also nice enough to bring her a coffee before he picked her up this morning. He honked the horn as they pulled up, and they didn’t have to wait very long. It was only about a minute when he said, “Here they come.” The front door on the apartment building swung open and Renee watched the two girls emerge. Both she and Eric stepped out of the car and waved to them. Both girls had on wide smiles as they quickly approached, and Eric turned around to open up the back seat door of the car. The girls made a beeline directly for it without any invitation. After all, doesn’t the chauffeur always open the car door for the models? “Good morning!” both girls said almost in tandem as they climbed into the back seat. Mary slid in first, then scooted over for Paula. Once both were in, Eric closed the door and climbed back in behind the wheel. Renee slid back into the front passenger’s seat all the while never taking her eyes off of the girls. “Morning ladies,” Renee said cordially, “Are we ready to make some magic?” With a rousing chorus of “You Bet!”, “Can’t wait!”, and “I’m so excited!” escaping the girls lips in no discernable order, they prepared to take girls to the factory. “Girls, this is Eric,” Renee said as she nodded to the man behind the wheel. “He’s going to drive us to the people who will make the mannequins and then bring us home. He’s an excellent driver, and he’ll have us there in no time. The sooner we get there the sooner we can get done. This will be a long day, not including the paperwork you need to fill out. But first, I’ll need your giddy butts to put on your seat belts! We can’t have you bouncing around back there like a couple of four year olds, especially while we’re moving!” Everyone had a laugh as the girls did what they were told. Once secured, Eric started driving. The two girls kept on chattering away with both small talk and aspirations of grandeur the entire car ride. Renee tried to be pleasant and answered their silly comments as they went, but inside she wished that they would just shut their vapid little holes. Eric had a look of contempt as the girls just droned on and on and on… The ride took a little over fifteen minutes to get to the industrial complex where the factory was. It was barely noticeable in the early morning darkness, mostly because of the lack of street lights in the area. There was only one light in the small parking lot they pulled into. Their car parked next to the only other car in the lot, a black Mercedes. There was a small sidewalk path that led from the cars to a set of darkened glass double doors. There were small rays of light coming out from the gap between the doors, proving that someone was in there. Eric got out of the car and opened the back door again. Both girls slid out of that side and looked around. Renee climbed out of the passenger’s seat and started towards the door to the factory. Eric closed the back door and stood behind the girls as they tried to figure out what they were doing here in this run down area. “This is it?” Paula asked as she tried to catch up with Renee. Mary wasn’t far behind. “Yes, this is the place,” Renee replied without stopping her stride. She reached out and pulled on the door’s handle, but it was locked. “Were you expecting a factory that uses toxic materials like polypropylene to be built smack dab in city center?” She released the handle and turned to Eric, who was still standing next to the car. “Eric, the door’s locked. Can you buzz them or something?” “Oh, they’re probably upstairs getting things ready,” he replied as he started over to where the three girls were standing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of about twenty keys. He found the one he was looking for and opened the door. He held it open so the women could enter into the lobby. Once everyone was in, he turned and locked the door again. He then searched the ring for another key and walked over to the door on the opposite side of the room. “I’ll go find them, let them know you’re here. All of the contracts are on the two clipboards on the coffee table if you want to get them started. I put your company’s paperwork on top, and ours underneath. Be right back.” He quickly unlocked the door and disappeared through it like a ghost. The two girls both had confused looks on their faces. Renee didn’t appear to notice. She simply went over and picked up the two clipboards. “Hunky guy aside,” Mary said, “This seems a little strange.” “Yep, the guy’s a sploosh,” Paula added, “But sometimes you gotta deal with some strange to get where you wanna be. I can deal with a little strange if he’s willing to scratch my itch later.” “Paula, you would do just about anything humanoid with a penis!” “You say that like it’s bad or something.” “Can we please dispense with the girl’s high school bathroom talk for the time being?” Renee asked, with obvious frustration in her voice. “Not trying to be rude, but this is costing my company a lot of money for this, and we need to get started. Or would you two rather I have Eric take you home?” Both girls were taken aback by the sudden change of attitude in Renee. “Chill out, lady. This is who I am, and I don’t change for anybody,” Paula exclaimed. Mary let out a loud gasp upon hearing her friend’s retort. “PAULA!!!” Mary shouted with anger in her voice. “I’m sorry for my friend’s out burst, Ms. Flozell. It’s early, she hasn’t had any coffee yet, and she doesn’t have her cellphone on her. She didn’t really mean that, did you?” She gave Paula a mild but firm slap on the arm. “No. I’m sorry,” Paula said with humility in her apology. She really didn’t mean it, but it was enough to fool Renee, or so she thought. They really needed this job, and mouthing off is not something she should be doing right now. “It’s okay,” Renee replied, almost nonchalantly. “Early morning modelling sessions can be tough, even for experienced models. So, let’s get you started filling out your paperwork. The papers on top are basically the modelling contract, your W4 form, a release saying that Flozell’s has permission to use your likeness in our stores, and a direct deposit release. The other papers are from Exclusive Products, Inc. They have a disclosure agreement, a liability waiver, another likeness release form, and I believe what they call a ‘Dolly’ form.” She handed each girl a clipboard. A pen was attached to the top of each one. “Excuse me,” Mary asked as she took the clipboard, “A ‘Dolly’ form?” “Exclusive products makes other products than just mannequins. They also make inflatable and solid rubber sex dolls, what they call ‘Dollys,’ and that agreement lets this company use your likeness to make a sex doll based on your looks. Since they will already have the mold of your bodies, it isn’t too difficult for them to make a dolly of you. I’ve seen some of the finished products and they do excellent work with them. It’s really quite flattering.” “EWWWWW!!!!” Mary exclaimed while in full disgust mode. Paula instead formed an evil grin. “Sounds kinky,” she said, “They can do it, as long as they give me one for myself. And give me a life sized one of Eric, too.” “Lady, sometimes you make me sick!” Mary said to her friend. “Hey, do you know how many people told me to go fuck myself in my lifetime?” Paula asked rhetorically as she took the other clipboard, “I’d just be giving into popular demand.” Renee just shook her head as the two girls took seats in the chairs against the one wall and started writing. She was grateful for the momentary peace and quiet. The paperwork was pretty easy to follow, so neither one of these idiots should have problems with them, as if it matters. She had to keep stringing them along until they were upstairs. As they were finishing up, Mary asked how to fill out the ‘Dolly’ form to NOT letting them have permission, that’s when the interior door opened again. Out walked Eric, Abigail Griffin, and her friend, Dr. Rebecca Evers. Eric was pushing what looked like a large box that could’ve held an old 32 inch tube television with a hand truck. Renee didn’t notice that. She noticed the black eye and cast on her friend’s wrist. “Oh, my God! Becky!” she exclaimed as she rushed over to hug her friend. She threw her arms around her and, because of their slight height difference, she almost knocked her glasses off her face. “What happened? Who did this? Why didn’t you tell me?!?” “I was attacked by someone I met at a bar,” Becky told her friend as she hugged her back. “I didn’t want to worry you. You’re a worry wart, and you would’ve never let me get back to my work until the cast came off. I love you to death, but sometimes you’re a pain in the ass when it comes to illnesses.” “Yes, yes, you’re right,” Renee replied as she let her friend go. “Did the police catch who did this to you?” “No, they are still looking,” Abigail answered with a slight smile. Once Renee made eye contact with her, Abigail gave a slight nod towards Eric. “Don’t think they ever will,” Eric added as he pushed the box towards the glass double doors. “Can someone help me with the doors?” Becky started towards the doors. “Yeah, I will,” she said, “It’s nice to feel useful around here.” Abigail turned to the two girls sitting in the lobby chairs. “Are these two your new discoveries, Renee?” Both girls stood up as to introduce themselves, but Renee took charge. “Yes, they are,” Renee replied. “This is Paula Miletti,” she said as she moved her hand towards the black haired beauty, “And this is Mary Lind,” moving her hand towards the average brunette. “Hello!” Mary said warmly as she put her hand out in greeting. Abigail took it and gave a polite shake. “Mornin’,” Paula simply stated as she gave a little wave. “Nice place you got here.” Abigail gave both of them a polite smile. “I’m Abigail Gillen, the owner of this establishment. Over there is our lead scientist, Dr. Rebecca Evers.” Becky looked up and waved her free, non-broken hand. “As you can see, she is injured, so this process may take a little longer than normal. If we do run into a longer time than you have been quoted, I will personally pay for your overtime. Does that sound fair?” “More than fair!” Mary blurted out without thinking. Paula rubbed her hands together greedily and smiled. “Good! After Eric finally gets through the door, we’ll get started.” Abigail motioned for the clipboards. Both girls handed them to her, and she handed one to Renee while she looked over the other. “Everything seems to be in order, Mary, but you do not want a dolly made from your mold?” Abigail asked. “No way!,” Mary said strongly, “Those things are disgusting! Anyone who buys one is a slimy pervert!” “Well, Paula is acceptable to the idea as long as she can have one for herself,” Renee said as she showed the paper to Abigail, “Her reasons for it are… well… colorful, to say the least.” As this was going on, Eric was finally out the door and Becky closed and locked it. “That’s one less problem I’m going to lose sleep over,” she mumbled out loud to herself as she walked over to the other girls. “Are we ready to get going?” “Not yet,” Abigail said as she gave her clipboard to Renee. “Ladies, before we continue, I need you to empty your pockets and purses here on the table. Also I need you to remove your shoes. Before you ask, we need to see if you‘re carrying any recording devices or cameras. I will also be frisking you to make sure there‘s none concealed in your clothing.” Mary did what she was told without questioning. Paula thought about it for a moment, then also complied. Abigail frisked both women quickly as Renee stood in an authoritative pose before them, as if to give the impression that she was protecting the girls from any improprieties. Satisfied that both of them were ‘clean’, she told them to gather their things back into their purses. It was time to go to work! ****************** The walk through the warehouse floor over to the freight elevator was somewhat uneventful. Paula made a few jokes about the inflatable dolls in the boxes on the shelves, while Mary kept silent and just averted her eyes. Abigail, Renee and Becky were catching up with what was going on with their lives as they walked. They got into the elevator and took it to the second floor. The door opened and the first sight the novice models saw were rows of pews with what looked like women wrapped in plastic sitting on them. The scene made Mary give out a shrill scream. “Hey! Hey! It’s okay! They’re only life size dolls!” Becky consoled in a loud voice towards the shaken up girl. She reached out with her good hand and pulled Mary towards them. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” As they got closer, Mary started to see the differences between living and latex tissue. She reached out with her other hand and touched one through the plastic bag. It felt like a thick balloon filled with corn syrup. She quickly calmed down and apologized for her outburst. “Sorry about that,” she meekly said, “But it looked too much like ‘Night of the Living Dead’ for a second there.” “You’re such a pussy,” Paula snidely said. “It’s understandable,” Abigail replied, “But those aren’t the top of the line models we have. We have others that look like they could have a conversation with you. But we’ll save that for another time. Let’s get to the mannequin room, then we’ll go over what’s going to happen today.” The five headed over to the hallway that was between a row of shelving and a wall that had two doors on it. The closer one was a heavy metal door and the farther one was like a normal door. This was the one they walked towards and went through. The room they entered had about twenty mannequins lined up four deep against the left wall. They were all naked and extremely detailed. Some even had pubic hairs! Paula and Mary had seen the mannequins in Flozell’s when they were there for the interviews, so they weren’t really shocked in seeing these. Mary was a little unnerved, especially after the scene she did a few minutes earlier, but she quickly regained her composure. Both girls walked further into the room and noticed a bunch of what looked like microphone stands and large round metal bases at the far end of the room. Next to them were eight tall thin light towers, covered with a whole lot of red LED lights on one side. “Okay,” Abigail announced to get the girls attention, “Mary, Paula, this is where we’re going to make the mannequins. To explain the procedure, I’ll let Dr. Evers have the floor. If you have any questions, please wait until after she goes over everything.” Both girls nodded, and came closer to Becky. “The procedure is pretty simple,” Becky started, “But it is time consuming. What we’re going to do first is have you strip down to your underwear so we can take some measurements. After that, we’ll have you get into the poses Ms. Flozell has in mind for each of you, and we’ll set up the supports to help you keep those poses. The supports are those thin metal rods with the bases over there. There are also some triangle blocks to place under your feet in case the mannequins will be wearing heels. Next you’ll be taking a shower with my special formula crème that has three functions: Softens your skin, removes all unnecessary hair, and leaves a thin waxy film on your skin. The wax is there for the next step. You’ll be brought back in here and reset into the poses again. While you’re in position, we’re going to be using a new 3d printer scanner to capture every nook and cranny on you. The wax helps reflect the scanner’s laser. This is what’ll take the most time, so you will not be able to move until the scan is completed. There will be a chance to use the bathroom before the shower stage, and after the shower you will both be given a bottle of flavored water. This water was also developed by me, and it is designed to keep a person from dehydrating over a 24 hour period. It also has a lot of potassium in it to keep your muscles from cramping while in your pose. When the scan is completed, you’ll take another shower to remove the wax. After that, it’s home to bed, or to whatever you might wanna do. Now, any questions?” Paula Shook her head. “Nope, just tell me where to put my clothes.” Mary was hesitant. “No one told me about any nudity,” she stammered. “And what about this ‘hair removal’?” “We have to make your skin as smooth as possible,” Abigail said. “The human body has hair follicles on almost every part of their body except the soles of their feet. Even the smallest hair on your body can cause havoc with the scan. We do have a thicker wax for your eyebrows, and pubic hair if you want to keep it. The crème will not be used close around your eyes themselves, so your eyelashes will be safe. The hair on your heads will be covered with a shower cap throughout the showers and scanning process. The top of your heads will be covered with a wig anyway, so the little bumps and valleys will be hidden up there. “The nudity part should be self explanatory. We make lifelike mannequins. You had already known that Flozell’s wanted lifelike mannequins. We cannot make them lifelike if you do not want a complete mold of your body created.” Mary didn’t seem convinced, as she clutched the top of her blouse tightly. “Will you get over it?” Paula complained as she was already down to her stockings, “It’s no big deal. I’ve seen you wearing bikinis smaller than the underwear you have on right now. Stop being a baby and become a professional model!” The cajoling of her friend was enough to spur Mary on. She started to slowly remove her clothing. Renee was already gathering up Paula’s things as Abigail took Mary’s blouse. Becky headed over to the supports and started moving them around the floor. “Are either one of the mannequins going to need joints, or are these solid ones?” Becky asked Renee. “One and one,” Renee replied as she picked up the last of Paula’s clothes. “Paula is going to be solid pose and Mary will have ten joints. Both will be in four inch heels.” “Gotcha. Paula, come over here, please, and stand on this display stand. Careful, the metal is a little cold.” Becky motioned with her hand to the metal disc on the floor to the right. She walked over to the far corner and picked up four metal triangles. These were the feet supports for the future use of the shoes. She came back and put two of the triangles on the disc Paula was tiptoeing across and the other two on the disc next to it. The two triangles slid into small slots in the bottom of the disc about 8 inches apart. Paula was directed to turn around and rest her feet on them like they were shoes. “Now describe the pose you want,” Becky asked, “And try to be a little more specific than last time, will you?” She walked over to get one of the supports to balance Paula on the stand by placing it against the small of her back. “She gave you a hard time?” Paula asked, “She seems like the type to do that.” “No I didn’t!” Renee retorted, defending her honor, “You didn’t hear very well! “Whatever,” Becky replied, “So how do you want her?” Becky walked over and lifted Paula’s right arm at the wrist up to slightly above her right shoulder with her elbow fully bent, her palm facing her shoulder. She took the girl’s left hand and put it in front of her, like she was carrying a beach bag in front of her legs, but held her hand right above the level of her crotch. She then turned the girl’s head slightly to the left then took a step back to take a look. Not satisfied, she stepped closer again and turned the girl’s hips slightly to the right. “Can we take her right leg back a bit? Make it look like she’s walking?” “Sure,” Becky replied. She bent down and moved the triangle under Paula’s right foot back three slots. Paula repositioned her weight as best she could without losing the pose. Renee stepped back again and liked what she saw. “That’s perfect. Hold it right there. Would you like my help to set the supports?” Renee offered. Becky nodded yes, and they set to work. They used two supports for the left arm and one support with a cup on the end for the right elbow. Another with what looked like half of a halo on the end of it was adjusted to fit right behind her neck, in order to keep her back straight. Becky now realized that she would’ve taken forever setting this up by herself with only one good hand. Once they were finished, Paula was free to step off of the stand. Now it was Mary’s turn. Because Mary’s was going to be jointed, the pose was simple. She just had to stand on the base with her legs eight inches apart but parallel, her arms out from her side on a thirty degree angle with her palms facing forward, and a slight bend in her elbows. After they set the stands for Mary, both girls had their measurements taken. Mary was five foot four inches tall, 108 lbs, 34 inch chest C cup, 26 inch waist, and 36 inch hips. Paula was five foot eight inches tall, 115 lbs, 36 inch chest D cup, 26 inch waist, 34 inch hips. From there, they went to take a shower. The shower was in the lab, which was the next room over. Mary wasn’t too happy about walking through a warehouse in her underwear, but her friend shamed her again into doing something that she wouldn’t normally do. Because Becky’s eye had not healed enough from her incident, Abigail had to open the retinal scanner lock. The door opened and everyone filed inside, with Mary being the fastest. Becky led them all past the tables with the scientific equipment to the row of showers on the far right wall. “Here we are,” she said triumphantly. She opened a box on the table closest to the showers and pulled out two bathing caps, two bath robes, and two pairs of slippers, all still in their original packaging. Renee placed the clothes from both girls inside the now empty box. “First thing we have to do is protect your hair. These caps should fit tight enough so they won’t move on your heads. They have little drawstrings in the back to get them tight, like surgical gowns. Abigail, Renee, please help them with these.” While they fumbled with the shower caps, Becky went over to a cabinet under another table and collected two white tins and a dark plastic bag. One tin had a black lid and the other had a brown lid. She carried all three items over to the girls. The shower caps were firmly in place by the time she got back to them. “In this bag,” she explained while holding it up for all to see, “Is beeswax. This is what’s going onto your eyebrows to protect them. It’ll also be used for your pubics, if you still have them and wanna keep them.” “There’s a bald beaver over here,” Paula announced while raising her hand. “I have a bikini wax,” Mary squeaked with a hint of shame. “I don’t need to keep it, unless if it hurts to remove it.” “The hair removal is painless,” Becky said, “There’s lidocaine inside the crème, so you won’t feel a thing.” Mary meekly nodded her approval. The beeswax was applied to both girls eyebrows and they were directed towards the showers. First, they cleaned themselves with regular soap to remove all of the loose dirt and oils. The water was turned off and they dried themselves. Abigail and Renee put on rubber gloves and started applying the crème to both girls. The black lid tin was used on Paula and the brown lid tin was used on Mary. It was applied liberally to every part of their bodies, including the soles of their feet. Both girls were instructed to apply it to their own nether regions and breasts, but to not place it inside themselves. Once completely covered, they had to wait five minutes before washing it off. The crème washed off rather quickly, and it seemed to Mary that less went down the drain than went on her body. Both girls did have a waxy appearance to their skin now, and their skin was the smoothest it has ever been. “Wow!” Paula exclaimed, “This stuff’s incredible! I wanna buy a gallon of it from you!” “I have to admit,” Mary added, “My skin has never felt this soft or creamy before in my life. You should sell it in your stores, Ms. Flozell.” “That’s a discussion for another time,” Renee replied. “I agree,” Becky added, “But let’s get finished here. Who needs a potty break? As soon as we start the scanning, we can’t stop for a couple of hours.” “I’ll take them both down, just to be safe,” Abigail said. “We’ll be right back.” She gave each girl a bath robe and slippers. They put them on and all three headed for the door. “Bring them back to the mannequin room,” Becky said as they started walking. “What flavor of water do you two want? Cherry, grape, fruit punch, lemonade, or watermelon?” “I’ll have the fruit punch,” Mary answered on her way out the door. Paula followed closely behind, but stopped at the door and looked back. “I’ll take vodka,” she replied. “If you don’t have that, I’ll take grape.” **************** Paula and Mary both drank down their flavored waters fairly quickly, probably now eager to get this job done. Mary definitely was no longer comfortable with doing this any more, and was going to tell Paula later that evening that she wasn’t going to continue to pursue the modelling career. This experience was not what she expected, nor wanted, and didn’t want to go through it again. Paula simply had an uneasy feeling about that scientist. She could’ve sworn that little nerdling was ogling her while she was in the shower. The faster they got out of there with their big payday, the better. As soon as the last drop was out of their respective bottles, they were directed to their stands and told to take their previous poses without the bath robes or slippers. The shower caps were to remain on. While they were down in the bathroom on the first floor, Becky and Renee had set up the scanning light towers, with four scanners to each girl. They took to their poses, then Renee took one final inspection of each girl. Satisfied, the girls were given final instructions. Now is the hardest part of all,” Becky said. “Neither one of you can move at all. Smile as long as you can and keep the blinking to a minimum. Do not speak to each other because that makes the front of your neck and most of your face move. Any movement at all will make us have to start all over again. We’re gonna leave the room to keep from distracting you, but we will be monitoring you from the lab. Good luck!” And, with that, the three women left, and closed the door behind them. A few seconds later, the red lights on the scanner towers came alive. ‘Good, almost done,’ Mary thought to herself, ‘I can do this. Fifty thousand dollars and then I’m done.’ ‘After I get my money and blow up doll,’ Paula thought to herself, ‘I’m gonna break that little dyke’s other hand. Who does she think she is? What does she think I am? What a freak!’ About ten minutes went by without either girl moving. To Mary it seemed like six months. She was starting to get antsy, as well as a little lightheaded. Her eyes were also feeling dried out, and, for some odd reason, she couldn’t shut them. ‘That’s it, I’ve had enough,’ Mary thought, ‘No amount of money is worth this hassle.’ ‘Stay put and stop talking!’ ‘Who said that?’ Mary asked in her head. She immediately believed that standing still like this had made her insane. Normal sane people don’t hear other people’s voices in their heads! ‘Who the hell do you think?!? It’s me! Paula! Now shut up before they hear you! I don’t wanna start this over!’ ‘Paula? I’m not talking out loud. This is in my head. I am officially going insane. Doing this is making me insane. Paula, if this really is you, I’m getting off this stand and going home.” Mary tried to take a step forward, but nothing happened. She tried to swing her arms forward for the momentum. Again, nothing happened. Her fear of insanity suddenly gave way to panic. ‘Stay where you are, Plain Jane! You can do this!’ ‘Paula! I can’t move at all! My body won’t move! I can’t even close my eyes! Help me! Please, help me!’ Mary went from panic to full-fledged terror. ‘AAAAHHHHH!!!! HELP ME!!!!’ ‘Mary, I can’t move or shut my own eyes too! I’m not talking! Can you hear me?!? What the fuck is going on?!?’ ‘You’re now mannequins, dip shits.’ ‘Who said that?!?’ Mary cried, ‘Please help me!!!’ ‘Yeah, help us!!!’ ‘There’s no help coming, so give it up. Quit shouting, you’re gonna give us all headaches.’ ‘Who the fuck are you?!?’ Paula demanded, ‘Why the fuck don’t you get off your ass and help us!!’ ‘I can’t help because I’m the blonde mannequin close to your friend there.’ ‘I can’t see no one! Stop fucking with me!’ ‘Wait,’ Mary whimpered, ‘The corner of my eye… shoulder length blonde hair, large breasts?’ ‘Yep, that’s me. In all of my now plastic glory.’ ‘What’s happening to us?!?’ Mary pleaded, ‘How can we talk but not move?!?’ ‘My name’s Taylor, by the way, thanks for asking. You are being turned into lifelike mannequins. The evil cunts who work here turn real live people into lifeless store window dummies for profit. They made me like this at the request of my boyfriend. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. He never came to get me. Now I’m hoping someone comes along and buys me. I’d love to be wearing something silky against my skin. Something sexy. ‘When they change you, they let you keep your mind intact. I don’t know if it’s intentional to be cruel, or if it’s just a side effect of the transition. We do however have the ability to talk to each other through telepathy. We can’t communicate with living things, but we can keep our sanity through chatting. You two are only half transformed, so the range of your telepathy will get larger. Some of these other mannequins are okay, and you’ll get to like them if you stay here long enough. ‘Another thing you’ll find is that all of your physical sensations will be increased dramatically, and I do mean dramatically. Did you ever have an orgasm from someone simply brushing by your nipple? Soon you will. Flip side is that you’ll get the same results from pain. Nothing can kill you, aside for fire or shredding, but you can feel like you were shot in the skull just by falling over. By the way, what’s the weather like outside?’ ‘Help me, God! Please Help!!!’ Mary screamed. ‘Oh, we are so fucked,’ Paula said. A little time later, the door opened and in walked Abigail, Renee, and Becky. Becky was pushing her computer table in and headed over towards Paula. “Abigail, can you please unplug these lights before I have a seizure?” Becky asked as she pushed the cart in front of the Paula mannequin. Abigail walked behind the new mannequins and the light towers went dark shortly afterwards. Becky took two electrode pads out of the drawer of the table and placed each one under both of the mannequin’s nipples. “So, Eric carried her out this morning in that box you helped him move?” Renee asked, obviously continuing a conversation from earlier. “Yep,” she replied as she continued to work on the electrodes, and now the leads from them to the computer, “I beat on her for almost a week, but didn’t penetrate her. I left her a virgin for his crew. It was great therapy for me. Now, how big did you want these?” ‘What are they doing to me now?’ Paula asked. “How about two more cup sizes? Bigger but not humongous,” Renee replied. “Leave them soft as well. The rest of the body can stay hard, but it would work out great if its tits had some bounce.” “Big and bouncy. Check.” Becky typed on her keyboard for about thirty seconds, then Paula felt a burning pressure build across her chest. It was a mix of pleasure and pain, but mostly pleasure. It gave her the greatest orgasm of her life, and she never wanted it to stop. Sadly it did, as soon as Becky pulled off the electrodes. “How’s that?” “Excellent,” Renee said quietly. She then reached out and grabbed a handful of the newly expanded tit flesh, sending another orgasm through the mannequin. “Yes, this will do nicely.” ‘Oh my God, Paula, did you just cum?!?’ Mary scolded. ‘Twice, and not by choice, but I loved every second of it. I hope someone grabs my tits again! I’ll even settle for the dyke!’ “We won’t be able to put the joints on the other one for another hour, so you up for some gin rummy?” asked Becky to Renee. “Sure,” she replied, “But first, tell me about that black mannequin back there. Do you have any more? I would like to put more ethnic looking ones in our stores. It should increase our sales in our northern stores.” “That’s the only one we have right now,” Abigail replied. “African American material is hard to come by in this town. We have to search farther away to get viable molds. If you can get your own molds, and some new molds for us, we can possibly rework our contract. I can let you have that one for five thousand.” “Deal. I’ll also take this blonde with the big tits here. It’ll look good in our automotive department, selling windshield wipers from the gap between her tits.” “Good. Let’s go do some paperwork. Becky, do you need help putting the computer away?” “Nah, I’m good. I’ll meet you in your office in a few minutes.” With that being said, all three women left the room. ‘Adding joints?’ Mary asked, ‘What do they mean by adding joints?’ ‘I don’t care,’ replied Paula, ‘I need someone to grab my tits! Please! Anybody!’ ‘So much for your friend there,’ Taylor said, ‘She’s gone now. Sucked up into the big O. I’ll be there soon, too. All those men pulling and putting things between my tits…ah I can’t wait! You, on the other hand, should be scared shitless. In order to add joints, they have to cut your body up. See these gaps between our body parts? They didn’t grow there. The cunts used a large hacksaw and cut us up. They then use plastic glue to add the pivots and hinges to the open holes that used to be our bodies so we can be posed the way they want us. They have to wait until you turn totally to hollow plastic, then they’ll begin dissecting you. It will take a few hours, and you’ll feel every tooth in the blade. First, the hole in your back for your support rod. Then the cuts begin. Three cuts in each arm, one cut in each hip, one cut across your waist, and finally the hardest cut: across your neck. Even after all of that, the worst thing that can happen is that you can’t die from it, no matter how much you wish for it. Try and be brave kiddo, and hopefully we’ll be set up in the same store.’ ‘Why me?’ Mary sobbed, ‘I never wanted to be a model to begin with!!!’ ...

It was a lot of work, but worth it. I was in a public park, but thirty yards from the closest trail, and invisible to anyone on any trail. There was no sign of man. It took me weeks to find a spot that fit my requirements, and another couple of weeks to make sure no one else went there. I was naked. I was sitting against a smallish tree with my waist tied to it. My ankles were tied to two other trees, keeping my legs open about ninety degrees. My mouth was taped shut and there were two pieces of gaffer’s tape holding my eyes closed. My handcuffed hands were way over my head and behind the tree with the cuff just over a low limb. I also had a good sized butt plug in me. It would be an hour or so until the ice melted and the key dropped into my hands. ...

Grand Junction, Colorado Margie finished strapping the kayak down to the roof rack, then clipped the bicycle into the hitch carrier rack. After making sure that all was secure she went back into the house to collect the last of the items that she would need. The last step was to empty the ice maker into the ice chest. From her house in Grand Junction, Colorado, it was a 32 mile drive to the miniscule town of De Beque along Interstate 70, which took only 25 minutes, given the 75 MPH speed limit. From there it was a short drive down Old Highway 6 to where the highway crossed the Colorado River, where she left the bicycle locked to a tree. Another 9 miles up Old Highway six was another spot where she could access the river, via the road that led to the stone quarry, where she parked the car and unloaded the kayak. Within minutes she had transferred everything she needed into the storage compartment of the kayak and had started paddling downstream. ...

“Oh, c’mon, he won’t bite.” Brianna giggles as you watch her anxiously as she drapes her pet python over your shoulder. You’ve always been a little wary of snakes and ever since finding out your girlfriend of 1 year had one, coming to her house always brought out your nervous side. Most of your dates wound up ending at your place. Brianna had decided to fix that. She had invited you over to help her feed her snake, Bruce, on the promise that if your fear wasn’t cured, she’d never bother you about it again. ...

(story continues from part 6) Part 7: New Deal “I don’t know how much ‘more’ there is right now” my barbarian sheepishly confessed with a relieved smile once he realized he and I were on the same proverbial page, and that instead of going too far, he hadn’t gone far enough… yet. I for my own part felt guilty for even asking, what man of almost forty could wow a younger woman two days in a row with such a rip my clothes off kind of passion, and still be up for more immediately afterwards? Men needed to recharge, like a battery, where I could do this until I was too sore to go on, and then perhaps even a little longer if the lust were high enough. Jim had shown me this side of myself, or perhaps he had just reminded me of it’s existence, but in either case I found myself becoming a very sexual being, and selfishly I wanted more. ...

This story is strictly fantasy! Although some of the sorts of trash play in the earlier parts of the story may be somewhat safe to try out for real with a person you trust, understand that this story doesn’t fully account for the realities of things like needing to breathe, and so it should not be used as a template for real-life trash play! The text of this story is released under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International license, meaning that you may share and modify this story so long as you credit the author, “Disposee”.

For the third month running Gemma was short on her rent and in desperate need of some money. Her part time job at the supermarket wasn’t enough to cover the bills, so Gemma often found herself acting in porn films to gain some extra money. She had been involved in nine films in the past so this idea was nothing new to her. In fairness the films paid her well, and it looked like she was going to have to find film number ten to get through her bills for the next few months. ...

SciFi, Alien, BDSM, M/F, Spanking, Bullwhip, Oral, Anal = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = An Intruder takes over Starship Invincible for some BDSM fun. The Star Council Starship Invincible is exploring the furthest reaches of the galaxy when it encounters a unique lifeform which takes over the bodies of the crew members. The female crew members are bound naked to various BDSM devices. The male crew members are then forced to do what many males would do normally when presented with bound, squirming, extremely turned on females. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * ...

story continued from part one Part 2 Synopsis: I serve Lady Marlow as a BDSM acolyte - then Pony Sally and I service Lord Marlow with our arses It seemed only a few minutes later that my trainer Philip walked into my stable and pulled the blanket off me. “Wake up Pony, time to start a new day.” He bent down and, using a special key, released the steel ring around my neck. He gave me his hand and lifted me to my feet. My body ached all over from the excesses of the previous day. “Follow me, Pony,” he snapped and we walked out of the box and headed towards the barn. When we got inside he stood me under the chains and attached the cuffs to my wrists and pulled the chains taut. “Let’s get your beating out of the way first.” he said, more gently now, “Now, do you want to scream or shall I gag you?” ...

Part 1 Synopsis: I was just a secretary - then my Mistress’s obedient slave - now I am a pony girl Of course I let him fuck me on our first date. How could I not, we had been talking in this bar for only five minutes but already I could feel my pussy getting damp – he was so HOT! Then he calmly took my hand and placed it on his crotch, and I could feel the gorgeous outline of a simply massive prick – bigger than any cock I had ever experienced - I knew I had to have him inside me as soon as possible. ...

story continued from part two Part 3 Synopsis: Teaching Joanne the pleasure of anal sex - culminating in Race Day and the Marlow Cup - and the Epilogue Sure enough, his Lordship continued to bugger me splendidly for a long while and eventually I felt his lovely prick pumping still more of his spunk into me – for those of you who haven’t experienced sodomy, get your man to do it to you as soon as possible - it is the most exquisite pleasure for both of you. Sally squirted her piss copiously onto us both as we climaxed, but by then it was clear that his Lordship’s energy was waning and we needed to make our way home. He carefully replaced our pony tackle and fitted us back into the cart and we set off down the hill. As we were trotting, I could feel a steady stream of spunk running down the back of my thighs, and glancing at Sally, I saw that she too had legs covered with cum and spunk – everyone at the House was certainly going to know what we had been up to! ...

It was another nice afternoon and I had some time to enjoy some time in the woods. I loaded up my small backpack with my wrist and ankle shackles and headed out from my house. Living close to some amazing woods and trails affords me the opportunity to walk out my door and within a five minutes walk I am on a trail. The first section of trail goes behind some houses so I must remain clothed as to not get caught. After about 10 more minutes of walking I turned onto a seldom used path that I use occasionally for my naked adventures. I’ve never seen anyone on this trail and it is about a mile long coming out on another heavily used trail near a farm. ...

The characters and situations in this story are a work of fiction. Permission to use the characters in this story has been given by their original creator, Andy Latex as noted in his blog Smooth Slick N Shiny. This story is meant as an ‘alternate reality’ of his fictional universe. continued from part 4 Part 5 After leaving Lady Jane’s William walked back home in a slight daze. He could hardly believe what he had done. Why did he kiss Andy? Why did he let Andy kiss him? He kept telling himself ‘I’m not gay… I’m NOT gay!” Yet he WAS attracted to Andy, or at least the feminine creature that resembled him. It was odd that he never felt that way towards any of the girls he dated. Yes, they would kiss, fondle and even have sex with him. But with Andy it was a different feeling. ...

The characters and situations in this story are a work of fiction. Permission to use the characters in this story has been given by their original creator, Andy Latex as noted in his blog Smooth Slick N Shiny. This story is meant as an ‘alternate reality’ of his fictional universe. continued from part 5 Part 6 William closely followed Bulldyke down the corridor. The anal plug moving inside him as he walked. He didn’t enjoy its presence, even though it was now easier to endure its intrusion in his rear. Well, maybe it was a bit pleasureable. He just felt so humiliated and ashamed for allowing this to happen to him. They took the lift up to the 30th floor. Bulldyke turned and placed her hand on his chest, gently pushing him to the back of the lift. Smiling she said “Display!”. Quickly William assumed the Display position. The doors to the lift opened and Bulldyke walked out. The doors then closed, and William was left alone. After several seconds he thought that Bulldyke was playing a joke on him. He considered pressing the button to open the doors, but then saw the camera looking down at him. He decided to stay as he was. ...

Story from the 2018 Halloween Special The dawn of the last day of October broke pale and weak. It tore ineffectually at the thick fog filling the vale. Hidden in the gray mist a faded mansion huddled, forgotten and alone. ****************************** Haley screamed in rage and wrenched the steering wheel hard over, the tires squealing as they clawed at the pavement. She fought to keep the car on the road, and, as she came out of the turn, the tires suddenly gained traction, and the vehicle shot forward. Haley smiled grimly as something did as she told it to. The angry blond pounded her fist against the steering wheel. “How dare they! HOW?” She had worked so hard, planned and schemed, and they did nothing. She had slept with all their boyfriends and planted rumors, done so much to bring them down. And those bitches came through smelling like roses. Those damn Tri-Delts, she had done so much to get them kicked off of campus. And what did the university do? Did they suspend the bitches? No! Did they bar them from school activities? No! Did they… Haley’s angry rant was cut short as the next turn caught her off-guard. This time the rear end of the roadster convertible slid off the pavement and dragged the rest of the car after it. The car spun round and round, the greenery slapping noisily on the fenders in protest of the car’s the violent passage. Then everything went dark. Haley slowly opened her eyes wondering why her head hurt. She tried to shake her head to clear it, the sudden pain telling her that was a bad idea. She waited a few moments for the pain to subside before slowly looking around. She was still sitting in her car, but there were dirt walls all around her. Finally, it sank in that she was in some kind of pit. Looking up, she could barely see the sky for all the stupid plant shit. Taking stock, she first tried to call the service built into her car to tell them to send a cab to whatever godforsaken spot she was at. It took her a minute of yelling at the car’s dash before she realized that the stupid thing was as dead as the car itself. Swearing about useless junk that cost a fortune, Haley started looking for her purse and the cell phone in it. Tossing aside the piles of leaves filling her car, she discovered that her purse was missing. In frustration she leaned forward and gingerly laid her head on the steering wheel. After several minutes of rest, she felt like doing something more active. Releasing her seat-belt, the disheveled blond stood up and looked closely at the dirt walls. Upon close study, she realized that what she first thought was a pit was actually a deep gully. The sides were steep, and the rear as well, but to the front the slope was shallower. She should be able to climb out that way. It took her far longer than she expected, but Haley finally managed to climb out. Looking around, she could see where her car had slid off the embankment above her and landed in the deepest part of the gully. She quickly realized that she was not going to be able to climb back to the road that way. Turning, so that her back was to the embankment, she looked for another route. In the late afternoon light she couldn’t see much besides bushes and trees. After a few minutes study she shrugged and moved off to her left. She vaguely remembered something about rivers running downhill and leading to towns. The ground sloped down in that direction. She was getting tired when she noticed the light fog lying low among the vegetation she was walking through. As she continued, the fog became thicker, and the daylight dimmed. The light was fading when Haley finally found the mansion. She could barely glimpse the outline of the roof through the fog. As she got closer, she found the vine-covered fence that marked the boundary of the property. She called out for help, demanding that someone let her in. The fog seemed to throw her voice back at her or steal it away to silence. She couldn’t tell if the fog was preventing her from being heard or if no one was close enough. She started wandering along the fence-line trying to find a way in. She almost missed the gate. It was heavily entrapped by vines, but opened when she tried it. The gate was small, just large enough for a person to get through, and the vines made the way narrower. With an effort, she was able to push her way through. Once inside, Haley took in the surprisingly well-manicured grounds, at least what she could see through the fog. The gate let in on the side of the building, to the rear of which was what looked like a hedge maze on the far side of a wide patio. Since these areas appeared empty, Haley decided she would make her entrance through the front. After all, there was bound to be some kind of receptionist at a place… like this, though she couldn’t be sure what “this” place was. She made her way to the front door… or doors. They were wide and tall, built for intimidating anyone seeking entrance. The part of Haley that demanded to be the center of attention welcomed such doors. Coming in through such a portal was perfect for a grand entrance. Haley’s dream of parading in grandly to be acknowledged as a damsel in distress completely evaporated as the doors refused to budge. This was the final indignity. The distressed blond started screaming as she yanked and kicked at the offending barriers. Her tirade moved them not at all. Finally falling against the right-hand door, tears streaming down her face, she begged to be let in. In despair she gave the door a single last try, and it opened easily. Haley stared dumbly at the slightly open door before coming to herself and quickly slipping inside. She looked about a large foyer that resembled the receiving lobby of a moderate if old-fashioned hotel. There were several couches and a number of plump chairs around low-slung tables. To the back was a large desk where a greeter or receptionist could see the entire room. Even farther back were several open hallways. On the far wall there was a tall mirror, angled so that it could be seen but not reflect the room. Haley never having met a mirror that wasn’t her friend, immediately made for this one. As she stepped before it, she gasped in horror at the almost unrecognizable figure that appeared. She looked hideous! Her hair was a complete shambles, windblown with leaves and twigs and tangles. And her face…. Dirt-covered and smeared with sap from the plants she had slaughtered when her car slid off the road. Her yellow silk blouse was stained and wrinkled beyond repair, her skirt ripped and dirty. This was going to take a major effort to put to rights. There was something off to her right, to which Haley responded, “Yes, a shower would be good….” When she realized that she was speaking to a wisp of mist that was eddying at the hall opening to her right, she drifted off into silence. She could have sworn that someone had said that there were showers down the hall, but there was no one around but her. The oddity of the fog making its way into the building never occurred to her. She gave herself a shake and immediately regretted it. Her head had not forgiven her the precipitous exit from the road her car had taken. Putting a hand to the wall, Haley used it to support herself as she made her way down the hallway, not quite realizing that she was following the wisp that she knew could not have spoken to her. (The self-centered woman failed to notice that a different shred of mist had swirled around the dirt and debris she had tracked in. As the wisp coiled and twisted across the floor, the room was restored in its wake to a pristine appearance. Continuing as before, it swirled over the pile, which disappeared just as completely as all the other debris.) Haley was lost in thought as to what she would do tonight to make up for the terrible day she was having. She planned on finding a good party and teasing all the jocks, making them want her before blowing them off and picking up some nerd to leave with. She chuckled with anticipation over screwing the poor nerd then raking him over with snide comments about how lousy he was. All the while she was planning, the wisp was leading her down the hall past several staircases to the floors above. Presently they arrived at a changing room with benches. At the far end was an opening that led into the showers. Haley saw a large pile of towels and looked forward to wrapping herself in a large fluffy one after a long, hot shower. She quickly peeled herself out of her grimy clothes and stepped into the showers. The wisp that had been following her down the hall entered the locker room and cleaned up the pile of dirty cloth as completely as it had everything else. The showers were in a most odd configuration, the doorway being in the short wall, which was barely wider than the door. The side walls angled outward, and the wide far wall was entirely glass, a large window running the full width of the room, floor to ceiling. The showers reminded Haley of a sort of reversed auditorium, as if anyone in the showers were showcased for those in the observation room beyond the window. As Haley stood in the doorway, she could feel that she was being watched, and she turned to hide her front against the side of the doorway. The icy cold tile pressing against her large, full breasts was a shock. With a squeal, she jumped away and accidentally bumped against the other side of the doorway. Her backside found the tiles there no warmer, which brought another squeal and caused her to stumble into the room. She attempted to recover her dignity as she covered herself with her hands. She glared about, looking for whomever was there. She could feel eyes watching her, but, look as hard as she might, there was nothing more than some wisps on the far side of the glass wall. Forcing herself to forget the odd feeling that it was the wisps that were watching her, Haley turned to the nearest shower head. She turned the taps on each of them in turn, but the only one that released water was the one closest to the glass wall. Giving the flow a few moments for the water to get warm, she took the time to look for some soap. There were several bars of a nasty disinfectant-smelling stuff, but it was the only soap to be found. She kept looking about, not being able to shake the feeling that she was being watched. But the only possible observers were those wisps in the viewing room. Focusing on getting clean as the most important thing, she stepped into the spray. The hot water hitting her skin was a sensual release, her aches and pains melting away. She hated the smell of the soap, but needed it as the green stains refused to wash away with just the water. As she washed, she again felt that she was being watched. Covering herself, she glared about, looking for whomever was intruding upon her privacy. The only things she saw moving were those odd wisps, of which there were an increasing number in the room overlooking the showers. Thinking that, if she indulged the fantasy, she might drive away this ridiculous feeling of being watched, Haley started playing to the crowd of wisps. She stretched out first one leg and then the other, languidly running her hands up and down them. From there, she continued doing all the things she knew guys would use for their fantasies of her. As she was shaking her breasts at the window, she flinched as if her unseen audience had erupted in cheers and rude comments. The humiliation of being leered at this way crushed her usual sense of being in control. She now felt like a helpless object, something she had never felt before. Always her rich and powerful family made everyone afraid to upset her, let alone outright offend her. The wisp, having finished with the girl’s clothes, came into the shower room and, with a lunge, wrapped itself about Haley’s ankles. This anchored her feet in position at the exact moment the water turned icy. Haley squealed wanting to jump clear, but her feet were immobile, and she couldn’t get out of the freezing stream. After several seconds of flailing she managed to turn off the water. The wisp drifted off to one side, releasing her feet. Teeth chattering, Haley quickly made her way back to the towels. When she got to where she thought she had seen some large, fluffy towels, instead she found several stacks of small, worn hand towels. Taking several at a time, she used them to wipe herself dry. Not having anything large enough made dealing with her hair difficult, but she managed to get herself dry enough. Not looking forward to putting on her filthy clothing, the naked girl turned to where she had dropped them. She stared at the spot for several seconds before it finally hit her; the clothes not being where she knew she had put them could only mean that someone WAS here. Haley’s head snapped up, and, for the first time since she climbed out of her wrecked car, she actually looked at the world around her and saw what she was looking at. The mansion was OLD… like old when her grandparents were born. The place was worn and faded, with a creepy vibe so that if she had been driving down a street and saw it… she would have turned around and never driven on that street again. She realized that she was standing in a windowless room, and no lights were on, but there was still light to see by. Not a lot, but a source-less presence that let her see while leaving lots of shadowed corners. And the Silence! In a place where the only real sound was her panting, her mind was filled with screams and moans and insane giggling and other sounds she didn’t want to identify. Haley opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The feeling of being leered at returned stronger than ever. For a time, she blacked out. When she became aware of things again she was huddled, whimpering, in a corner of the changing room. Her fears warred within her. Part of her was afraid to move, but the other part wanted to run as fast as she could. This second part might have won straight off had she been clothed, but the thought of running through this place naked kept her pinned. Eventually the thought of hearing all those sounds that weren’t sounds, finally drove her to move. Creeping along, she slowly made her way to the hall. Just before reaching it, she found a plain white dress, but nothing more, no underwear or shoes. Slipping it on over her head she could feel the cheap cloth scraping across her sensitized skin. She had never worn anything like it. Her chill-stiffened nipples were constantly being scratched and teased. No matter how she tugged and pulled, the cloth kept her aware of her flesh, kept her on edge. With a shake, she pulled her mind back to the now, to escaping from this horrid place before those voices took up permanent residence. So she crept down the hall, trying to remember how she got to the showers from the lobby. Each corridor seemed endless, with countless crossing corridors each as limitless as the others. Haley was becoming frantic. There was no way this place was large enough to hold all these hallways. Stairs. She remembered passing some stairs. She started moving faster and faster, running around corners and bolting down side corridors. As she turned a corner she stopped dead in her tracks. Before her was a crazy woman, wide-eyed, with fly-away straw hair. It was only as she turned to run away from the creature that she realized that it was her own reflection. As always, her reflection mesmerized her. But, this time, instead of being thrilled by the immaculately groomed image, she was horrified at her transformation. She slowly reached out less afraid of meeting another person’s hand and more afraid of…. “What have we here?” A harsh voice came from behind her, and she spun about to face the speaker. It was a hatchet-faced older woman, her hair pulled back so tightly that it left her face looking stretched. A quick glance over Haley’s shoulder showed her own reflection, but not the woman standing directly before her. Looking closely, she could see that the woman was pale, washed out. Haley looked down at what should have been the woman’s feet, but there was nothing to see. The woman had on a very old-fashioned nurse’s uniform, one that should have gone all the way to the floor. Instead, the skirt just faded into a large wisp. The nurse shook her head and gave Haley the same look a housewife would give a nasty bug found crawling across her kitchen floor. “What are you doing out of your room? It’s late, and you girls are supposed to be secured after dinner.” Haley felt lost, unable to snap back with her usual arrogance. “What do you mean? I was….” “No excuses!” the nurse thundered. “You are out of your room with no excuse and no escort!” The incensed woman almost vibrated with intensity. Haley would have fled, but her arms were grabbed. To either side was a vaguely man-shaped wisp. Both were burly, but, while solid enough to hold her, neither was quite opaque. Their grip was like cold wrapped around her arm, a vague impression that was still solid enough to actually lift her up on her toes. Despite their chill touch, she felt flushed. An anticipatory gleam entered the woman’s eye. “Your disregard for the rules has earned you a punishment. You two bring her this way.” The woman’s tone was peremptory. She turned to lead the way down the hall. The two figures flanking Haley ensured that she kept close behind. “What do you mean… punishment? I’m a victim. I need help! Please help me.” The laugh that came from the weird woman chilled Haley to the core. “My dear, we ARE helping you. Harlots like you are self-destructive and need a firm hand.” The grips on her arms shifted, and Haley could almost feel individual hands holding her. But, oddly, even as her flesh chilled, she could feel herself becoming excited. Whereas she had been panting in panic, now she was panting in arousal. The group traveled down the hall that Haley had just come along, but this time there was a door. It hadn’t been there before. Inside the room was some kind of bench resembling a saw-horse – a narrow, padded top, perhaps two feet long, with four splayed legs. The nurse stood to one side and gestured. The two male figures half-dragged, half-carried Haley over to the bench. Her feet were bound to the back legs of the bench, and she was then pulled forward, bent at the hip, until her face was pressing against the bench. Her hands were pulled down and secured to the front legs. “Wha… what are you doing?” Haley’s voice came out barely louder than a whisper. She began to frantically tug and squirm against her bonds. “Sweeting, we are doing what we can to help you.” The nurse bent and jammed a wooden rod between Haley’s teeth and fastened it firmly. Then the nurse took a moment to pull Haley’s skirt up to expose her flexed ass cheeks. “Now, you be a good girl and wait for me right here. I have to consult with the Director.” With a firm pat, she was gone. “Hgr, gdthmdt! Sthdg hhdk…,” Haley tried to call out, giving up when she realized it was impossible for anyone to understand a single word. Once again, she struggled against the bindings holding her to the padded bench. As she struggled, her pussy ground against the end of the bench. Without conscious thought, she pushed and rubbed, getting herself more and more excited. As Haley’s excitement rose, the two male wisps stood close by. She was shocked that she could hear them conversing. “Juicy, isn’t she?” a whisper came from her left. “Ja! Zis von ist special.” A Germanic-sounding reply drifted from her right. As it spoke, an icy sensation tracked up the inside of her thighs. Such a chill touch should have been painful, or, at the least derailed her building passion. Instead she responded as if a flesh-and-blood man were drawing his hand slowly up her leg, getting closer and closer to her steaming pussy. Earlier their grip on her arms was a vague sensation, such that she couldn’t feel anything more specific than pressure. Now she was able to feel individual fingers as they traced specific paths along her flesh. Haley shuddered and moaned in response. Hearing the two laugh at her was possibly the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to her. Despite the shame – or maybe because of it – she became even more aroused than before. For the next several minutes, the two stroked and teased her, driving her insane with desire. With what little movement she had, she flexed her ass, trying to press her burning flesh into their chill grip. Then the nurse’s voice interrupted. “Ahem! It is time for the girl’s punishment. Wait outside. I’ll summon you when we meet with the Director.” Haley heard the two men leave the room, and the door close behind them. The woman stroked Haley’s exposed ass as if checking for damage. “You are the center of a whirlwind, sweeting. I will have to keep you very much under my eye.” Haley was startled to realize that she could hear the woman’s steps as she crossed the room. Struggle as she might, though, she could not see what the nurse was doing behind her. An ominous swishing sound raised Haley’s apprehension. “The Director has determined your punishment. Shall we begin?” Haley grunted and shook her head to deny her consent. The only warning she had was another swish as whatever it was flew towards her. The strike was freezing cold, but, instead of pain, she was thrust into a memory. Last night she had been at a party, and, while there, she had teased her way through all the guys. She made sure that no one suspected that she was there for Mark, the boyfriend of that bitch Katie, the President of the Tri-Delta sorority. Haley was there to seduce him and nail shut the trap she had been working on for weeks. But this time, as she tried to seduce the boys at the party, SHE was the one rejected. With each rejection she became more frantic, looking for someone to find her acceptable. Her final chance was Mark. She managed to get him to a bedroom. But, despite her best efforts, she just couldn’t please him. Laughing at her, he threw her naked out of the bedroom and her clothes out the window. As she fled the party, everyone there laughed at her, the humiliation was terrible. The orgasm she had was staggering in its intensity. Haley had no time to recover as she heard the swish of the next blow. Again, a memory of her taking a man and using him flashed past, but in a different way that left her ashamed, abused, and humiliated. With each blow she had another orgasm. Haley had lost count by the time she finally passed out. She was awakened by a very unpleasant smell as the nurse waved something under her nose. “You will not keep the Director waiting. You would not like what happens if you disappoint him.” The woman went to the door and snapped her fingers. The two orderlies returned to the room and released Haley from the bench. The exhausted girl was unable to stand on her own, but the two men easily lifted her and carried her along between them. Haley was taken down a short hall and up two flights of stairs. She was not sure how, but she knew the hall they were in led to the rear of the building, that the office to which they were heading would overlook the gardens and any activity there. The nurse knocked in a perfunctory manner, then entered. With Haley between them, the orderlies followed. The office was wide and would have been well-lit if there were daylight, but the only thing outside the windows was the thick gray mist. In the office, there was a couch to one side, which Haley had a good view of as the orderlies went in one behind the other and their movements turned her so she went through the door sideways. As they lined up properly behind the nurse again, Haley could see a heavyset man behind a large desk that looked proper for such a large office. The nurse gave a curtsey to the man. “Director, here she is. Her response to the treatment was excellent. But I must point out….” The man waved her to silence. “Yes, Mrs. Jones, I am aware of your dedication to our guests. Now, James, Hans, please present the young woman. I wish to examine her response to the treatment.” He indicated the space right in front of his desk. Mrs. Jones moved to one side, making space for Haley. The two orderlies set Haley in the spot indicated and backed away. Something about the Director, and the way he looked at her, terrified her. The terror gave her strength to stand, but her legs trembled with the effort. The man stood up and came around the desk. For some reason Haley couldn’t remember, it did not seem odd that he had no feet. Her exhausted mind couldn’t seem to hold a thought. But, as he glided around her she could feel the chill that came off of everyone in this place. And, as before, she could feel her body stirring. Her breathing deepened. Stopping, he leaned back against his desk and took a moment to look down and smile at his feet. As he looked back up, his eyes settled on the front of her dress. “Mrs. Jones, is that what I think it is?” He gestured toward Haley’s fluid-darkened crotch. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Mrs. Jones nodded in reply. “Yes sir. As I said, the girl responded surprisingly well. She juiced herself multiple times. I’d say a right perfect harlot she is. She’ll be needing lots of discipline.” “Mrs. Jones, I know you take your duties as head matron very seriously, but you will have plenty of time for that later.” Mrs. Jones nodded as a smile came over her face. Haley really didn’t want to know what the woman was thinking. “But first things first, as they say,” the Director pulled a watch out of a pocket in his vest and, after checking the time, did a count-down on his fingers. As he pulled in the last finger, there was a shudder and the room… rippled. The Director smiled, and Haley liked that smile even less than the one Mrs. Jones had. “My dear young woman, I feel it proper that you know about where you find yourself. This Institute was a place where wayward young women were brought, where they were given purpose. Here they were accepted and given a home.” He leaned in so his face was just inches from her own. This close she could see that his skin was pale and unnaturally smooth. “This is now your home.” He reached out and pushed her chin up. As his fingers touched her flesh it was if molten ice were poured down her skin. The icy flow traveled to her nipples, and they became dagger-hard. The flow continued on down to her pussy, and, when it arrived there, her muscles spasmed in lust. As close as the Director was, Haley could clearly see how his face changed. His skin took on normal tones, and she could see pores appear. “Ah yes, you are a special girl. All kinds of delicious sexual energies in you.” He took a deep sniff of her neck. With his fingers never breaking contact, his hand stroked down her neck. His touch kept her body vibrating on the edges of orgasm. “Oh, yes, this is now your home. We will feed off you. We will feed, and, in return, we will keep you young and vital for all eternity.” He laughed. ****************************** The dawn of the first day of November broke chill and bleak. A thick fog filled the vale. Hidden in the gray mist a faded mansion huddled, forgotten… but no longer alone. Edited by C. Lakewood

What happens when you summon female Leprechauns? This short story takes on the question of why all Leprechauns are male… sort of. I knew the Pixies were messing with me earlier. They waited until I published my first story before bringing me this one. Like all my Celtic stories, some of this is historical fact, some is Irish myth, and some is straight out of my warped and twisted imagination. I will leave it to you to figure out which is which. ...

The late evening gloom that hung over the empty parking lot was swept away by the glare of headlamps and blare of music as the white minivan careened across the empty expanse and parked at a side door of the darkened factory. Gears ground and lights dimmed as the seven members of the Phi Lambda sorority tipsily stumbled out of the vehicle. Each was dressed identically in Phi Lambda tee shirts and denim short shorts, and all sported shaven heads. ...

The dawn of the last day of October broke pale and weak. It tore ineffectually at the thick fog filling the vale. Hidden in the gray mist a faded mansion huddled, forgotten and alone. ****************************** Haley screamed in rage and wrenched the steering wheel hard over, the tires squealing as they clawed at the pavement. She fought to keep the car on the road, and, as she came out of the turn, the tires suddenly gained traction, and the vehicle shot forward. Haley smiled grimly as something did as she told it to. The angry blond pounded her fist against the steering wheel. “How dare they! HOW?” She had worked so hard, planned and schemed, and they did nothing. She had slept with all their boyfriends and planted rumors, done so much to bring them down. And those bitches came through smelling like roses. Those damn Tri-Delts, she had done so much to get them kicked off of campus. And what did the university do? Did they suspend the bitches? No! Did they bar them from school activities? No! Did they… Haley’s angry rant was cut short as the next turn caught her off-guard. This time the rear end of the roadster convertible slid off the pavement and dragged the rest of the car after it. The car spun round and round, the greenery slapping noisily on the fenders in protest of the car’s the violent passage. Then everything went dark. Haley slowly opened her eyes wondering why her head hurt. She tried to shake her head to clear it, the sudden pain telling her that was a bad idea. She waited a few moments for the pain to subside before slowly looking around. She was still sitting in her car, but there were dirt walls all around her. Finally, it sank in that she was in some kind of pit. Looking up, she could barely see the sky for all the stupid plant shit. Taking stock, she first tried to call the service built into her car to tell them to send a cab to whatever godforsaken spot she was at. It took her a minute of yelling at the car’s dash before she realized that the stupid thing was as dead as the car itself. Swearing about useless junk that cost a fortune, Haley started looking for her purse and the cell phone in it. Tossing aside the piles of leaves filling her car, she discovered that her purse was missing. In frustration she leaned forward and gingerly laid her head on the steering wheel. After several minutes of rest, she felt like doing something more active. Releasing her seat-belt, the disheveled blond stood up and looked closely at the dirt walls. Upon close study, she realized that what she first thought was a pit was actually a deep gully. The sides were steep, and the rear as well, but to the front the slope was shallower. She should be able to climb out that way. It took her far longer than she expected, but Haley finally managed to climb out. Looking around, she could see where her car had slid off the embankment above her and landed in the deepest part of the gully. She quickly realized that she was not going to be able to climb back to the road that way. Turning, so that her back was to the embankment, she looked for another route. In the late afternoon light she couldn’t see much besides bushes and trees. After a few minutes study she shrugged and moved off to her left. She vaguely remembered something about rivers running downhill and leading to towns. The ground sloped down in that direction. She was getting tired when she noticed the light fog lying low among the vegetation she was walking through. As she continued, the fog became thicker, and the daylight dimmed. The light was fading when Haley finally found the mansion. She could barely glimpse the outline of the roof through the fog. As she got closer, she found the vine-covered fence that marked the boundary of the property. She called out for help, demanding that someone let her in. The fog seemed to throw her voice back at her or steal it away to silence. She couldn’t tell if the fog was preventing her from being heard or if no one was close enough. She started wandering along the fence-line trying to find a way in. She almost missed the gate. It was heavily entrapped by vines, but opened when she tried it. The gate was small, just large enough for a person to get through, and the vines made the way narrower. With an effort, she was able to push her way through. Once inside, Haley took in the surprisingly well-manicured grounds, at least what she could see through the fog. The gate let in on the side of the building, to the rear of which was what looked like a hedge maze on the far side of a wide patio. Since these areas appeared empty, Haley decided she would make her entrance through the front. After all, there was bound to be some kind of receptionist at a place… like this, though she couldn’t be sure what “this” place was. She made her way to the front door… or doors. They were wide and tall, built for intimidating anyone seeking entrance. The part of Haley that demanded to be the center of attention welcomed such doors. Coming in through such a portal was perfect for a grand entrance. Haley’s dream of parading in grandly to be acknowledged as a damsel in distress completely evaporated as the doors refused to budge. This was the final indignity. The distressed blond started screaming as she yanked and kicked at the offending barriers. Her tirade moved them not at all. Finally falling against the right-hand door, tears streaming down her face, she begged to be let in. In despair she gave the door a single last try, and it opened easily. Haley stared dumbly at the slightly open door before coming to herself and quickly slipping inside. She looked about a large foyer that resembled the receiving lobby of a moderate if old-fashioned hotel. There were several couches and a number of plump chairs around low-slung tables. To the back was a large desk where a greeter or receptionist could see the entire room. Even farther back were several open hallways. On the far wall there was a tall mirror, angled so that it could be seen but not reflect the room. Haley never having met a mirror that wasn’t her friend, immediately made for this one. As she stepped before it, she gasped in horror at the almost unrecognizable figure that appeared. She looked hideous! Her hair was a complete shambles, windblown with leaves and twigs and tangles. And her face…. Dirt-covered and smeared with sap from the plants she had slaughtered when her car slid off the road. Her yellow silk blouse was stained and wrinkled beyond repair, her skirt ripped and dirty. This was going to take a major effort to put to rights. There was something off to her right, to which Haley responded, “Yes, a shower would be good….” When she realized that she was speaking to a wisp of mist that was eddying at the hall opening to her right, she drifted off into silence. She could have sworn that someone had said that there were showers down the hall, but there was no one around but her. The oddity of the fog making its way into the building never occurred to her. She gave herself a shake and immediately regretted it. Her head had not forgiven her the precipitous exit from the road her car had taken. Putting a hand to the wall, Haley used it to support herself as she made her way down the hallway, not quite realizing that she was following the wisp that she knew could not have spoken to her. (The self-centered woman failed to notice that a different shred of mist had swirled around the dirt and debris she had tracked in. As the wisp coiled and twisted across the floor, the room was restored in its wake to a pristine appearance. Continuing as before, it swirled over the pile, which disappeared just as completely as all the other debris.) Haley was lost in thought as to what she would do tonight to make up for the terrible day she was having. She planned on finding a good party and teasing all the jocks, making them want her before blowing them off and picking up some nerd to leave with. She chuckled with anticipation over screwing the poor nerd then raking him over with snide comments about how lousy he was. All the while she was planning, the wisp was leading her down the hall past several staircases to the floors above. Presently they arrived at a changing room with benches. At the far end was an opening that led into the showers. Haley saw a large pile of towels and looked forward to wrapping herself in a large fluffy one after a long, hot shower. She quickly peeled herself out of her grimy clothes and stepped into the showers. The wisp that had been following her down the hall entered the locker room and cleaned up the pile of dirty cloth as completely as it had everything else. The showers were in a most odd configuration, the doorway being in the short wall, which was barely wider than the door. The side walls angled outward, and the wide far wall was entirely glass, a large window running the full width of the room, floor to ceiling. The showers reminded Haley of a sort of reversed auditorium, as if anyone in the showers were showcased for those in the observation room beyond the window. As Haley stood in the doorway, she could feel that she was being watched, and she turned to hide her front against the side of the doorway. The icy cold tile pressing against her large, full breasts was a shock. With a squeal, she jumped away and accidentally bumped against the other side of the doorway. Her backside found the tiles there no warmer, which brought another squeal and caused her to stumble into the room. She attempted to recover her dignity as she covered herself with her hands. She glared about, looking for whomever was there. She could feel eyes watching her, but, look as hard as she might, there was nothing more than some wisps on the far side of the glass wall. Forcing herself to forget the odd feeling that it was the wisps that were watching her, Haley turned to the nearest shower head. She turned the taps on each of them in turn, but the only one that released water was the one closest to the glass wall. Giving the flow a few moments for the water to get warm, she took the time to look for some soap. There were several bars of a nasty disinfectant-smelling stuff, but it was the only soap to be found. She kept looking about, not being able to shake the feeling that she was being watched. But the only possible observers were those wisps in the viewing room. Focusing on getting clean as the most important thing, she stepped into the spray. The hot water hitting her skin was a sensual release, her aches and pains melting away. She hated the smell of the soap, but needed it as the green stains refused to wash away with just the water. As she washed, she again felt that she was being watched. Covering herself, she glared about, looking for whomever was intruding upon her privacy. The only things she saw moving were those odd wisps, of which there were an increasing number in the room overlooking the showers. Thinking that, if she indulged the fantasy, she might drive away this ridiculous feeling of being watched, Haley started playing to the crowd of wisps. She stretched out first one leg and then the other, languidly running her hands up and down them. From there, she continued doing all the things she knew guys would use for their fantasies of her. As she was shaking her breasts at the window, she flinched as if her unseen audience had erupted in cheers and rude comments. The humiliation of being leered at this way crushed her usual sense of being in control. She now felt like a helpless object, something she had never felt before. Always her rich and powerful family made everyone afraid to upset her, let alone outright offend her. The wisp, having finished with the girl’s clothes, came into the shower room and, with a lunge, wrapped itself about Haley’s ankles. This anchored her feet in position at the exact moment the water turned icy. Haley squealed wanting to jump clear, but her feet were immobile, and she couldn’t get out of the freezing stream. After several seconds of flailing she managed to turn off the water. The wisp drifted off to one side, releasing her feet. Teeth chattering, Haley quickly made her way back to the towels. When she got to where she thought she had seen some large, fluffy towels, instead she found several stacks of small, worn hand towels. Taking several at a time, she used them to wipe herself dry. Not having anything large enough made dealing with her hair difficult, but she managed to get herself dry enough. Not looking forward to putting on her filthy clothing, the naked girl turned to where she had dropped them. She stared at the spot for several seconds before it finally hit her; the clothes not being where she knew she had put them could only mean that someone WAS here. Haley’s head snapped up, and, for the first time since she climbed out of her wrecked car, she actually looked at the world around her and saw what she was looking at. The mansion was OLD… like old when her grandparents were born. The place was worn and faded, with a creepy vibe so that if she had been driving down a street and saw it… she would have turned around and never driven on that street again. She realized that she was standing in a windowless room, and no lights were on, but there was still light to see by. Not a lot, but a source-less presence that let her see while leaving lots of shadowed corners. And the Silence! In a place where the only real sound was her panting, her mind was filled with screams and moans and insane giggling and other sounds she didn’t want to identify. Haley opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The feeling of being leered at returned stronger than ever. For a time, she blacked out. When she became aware of things again she was huddled, whimpering, in a corner of the changing room. Her fears warred within her. Part of her was afraid to move, but the other part wanted to run as fast as she could. This second part might have won straight off had she been clothed, but the thought of running through this place naked kept her pinned. Eventually the thought of hearing all those sounds that weren’t sounds, finally drove her to move. Creeping along, she slowly made her way to the hall. Just before reaching it, she found a plain white dress, but nothing more, no underwear or shoes. Slipping it on over her head she could feel the cheap cloth scraping across her sensitized skin. She had never worn anything like it. Her chill-stiffened nipples were constantly being scratched and teased. No matter how she tugged and pulled, the cloth kept her aware of her flesh, kept her on edge. With a shake, she pulled her mind back to the now, to escaping from this horrid place before those voices took up permanent residence. So she crept down the hall, trying to remember how she got to the showers from the lobby. Each corridor seemed endless, with countless crossing corridors each as limitless as the others. Haley was becoming frantic. There was no way this place was large enough to hold all these hallways. Stairs. She remembered passing some stairs. She started moving faster and faster, running around corners and bolting down side corridors. As she turned a corner she stopped dead in her tracks. Before her was a crazy woman, wide-eyed, with fly-away straw hair. It was only as she turned to run away from the creature that she realized that it was her own reflection. As always, her reflection mesmerized her. But, this time, instead of being thrilled by the immaculately groomed image, she was horrified at her transformation. She slowly reached out less afraid of meeting another person’s hand and more afraid of…. “What have we here?” A harsh voice came from behind her, and she spun about to face the speaker. It was a hatchet-faced older woman, her hair pulled back so tightly that it left her face looking stretched. A quick glance over Haley’s shoulder showed her own reflection, but not the woman standing directly before her. Looking closely, she could see that the woman was pale, washed out. Haley looked down at what should have been the woman’s feet, but there was nothing to see. The woman had on a very old-fashioned nurse’s uniform, one that should have gone all the way to the floor. Instead, the skirt just faded into a large wisp. The nurse shook her head and gave Haley the same look a housewife would give a nasty bug found crawling across her kitchen floor. “What are you doing out of your room? It’s late, and you girls are supposed to be secured after dinner.” Haley felt lost, unable to snap back with her usual arrogance. “What do you mean? I was….” “No excuses!” the nurse thundered. “You are out of your room with no excuse and no escort!” The incensed woman almost vibrated with intensity. Haley would have fled, but her arms were grabbed. To either side was a vaguely man-shaped wisp. Both were burly, but, while solid enough to hold her, neither was quite opaque. Their grip was like cold wrapped around her arm, a vague impression that was still solid enough to actually lift her up on her toes. Despite their chill touch, she felt flushed. An anticipatory gleam entered the woman’s eye. “Your disregard for the rules has earned you a punishment. You two bring her this way.” The woman’s tone was peremptory. She turned to lead the way down the hall. The two figures flanking Haley ensured that she kept close behind. “What do you mean… punishment? I’m a victim. I need help! Please help me.” The laugh that came from the weird woman chilled Haley to the core. “My dear, we ARE helping you. Harlots like you are self-destructive and need a firm hand.” The grips on her arms shifted, and Haley could almost feel individual hands holding her. But, oddly, even as her flesh chilled, she could feel herself becoming excited. Whereas she had been panting in panic, now she was panting in arousal. The group traveled down the hall that Haley had just come along, but this time there was a door. It hadn’t been there before. Inside the room was some kind of bench resembling a saw-horse – a narrow, padded top, perhaps two feet long, with four splayed legs. The nurse stood to one side and gestured. The two male figures half-dragged, half-carried Haley over to the bench. Her feet were bound to the back legs of the bench, and she was then pulled forward, bent at the hip, until her face was pressing against the bench. Her hands were pulled down and secured to the front legs. “Wha… what are you doing?” Haley’s voice came out barely louder than a whisper. She began to frantically tug and squirm against her bonds. “Sweeting, we are doing what we can to help you.” The nurse bent and jammed a wooden rod between Haley’s teeth and fastened it firmly. Then the nurse took a moment to pull Haley’s skirt up to expose her flexed ass cheeks. “Now, you be a good girl and wait for me right here. I have to consult with the Director.” With a firm pat, she was gone. “Hgr, gdthmdt! Sthdg hhdk…,” Haley tried to call out, giving up when she realized it was impossible for anyone to understand a single word. Once again, she struggled against the bindings holding her to the padded bench. As she struggled, her pussy ground against the end of the bench. Without conscious thought, she pushed and rubbed, getting herself more and more excited. As Haley’s excitement rose, the two male wisps stood close by. She was shocked that she could hear them conversing. “Juicy, isn’t she?” a whisper came from her left. “Ja! Zis von ist special.” A Germanic-sounding reply drifted from her right. As it spoke, an icy sensation tracked up the inside of her thighs. Such a chill touch should have been painful, or, at the least derailed her building passion. Instead she responded as if a flesh-and-blood man were drawing his hand slowly up her leg, getting closer and closer to her steaming pussy. Earlier their grip on her arms was a vague sensation, such that she couldn’t feel anything more specific than pressure. Now she was able to feel individual fingers as they traced specific paths along her flesh. Haley shuddered and moaned in response. Hearing the two laugh at her was possibly the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to her. Despite the shame – or maybe because of it – she became even more aroused than before. For the next several minutes, the two stroked and teased her, driving her insane with desire. With what little movement she had, she flexed her ass, trying to press her burning flesh into their chill grip. Then the nurse’s voice interrupted. “Ahem! It is time for the girl’s punishment. Wait outside. I’ll summon you when we meet with the Director.” Haley heard the two men leave the room, and the door close behind them. The woman stroked Haley’s exposed ass as if checking for damage. “You are the center of a whirlwind, sweeting. I will have to keep you very much under my eye.” Haley was startled to realize that she could hear the woman’s steps as she crossed the room. Struggle as she might, though, she could not see what the nurse was doing behind her. An ominous swishing sound raised Haley’s apprehension. “The Director has determined your punishment. Shall we begin?” Haley grunted and shook her head to deny her consent. The only warning she had was another swish as whatever it was flew towards her. The strike was freezing cold, but, instead of pain, she was thrust into a memory. Last night she had been at a party, and, while there, she had teased her way through all the guys. She made sure that no one suspected that she was there for Mark, the boyfriend of that bitch Katie, the President of the Tri-Delta sorority. Haley was there to seduce him and nail shut the trap she had been working on for weeks. But this time, as she tried to seduce the boys at the party, SHE was the one rejected. With each rejection she became more frantic, looking for someone to find her acceptable. Her final chance was Mark. She managed to get him to a bedroom. But, despite her best efforts, she just couldn’t please him. Laughing at her, he threw her naked out of the bedroom and her clothes out the window. As she fled the party, everyone there laughed at her, the humiliation was terrible. The orgasm she had was staggering in its intensity. Haley had no time to recover as she heard the swish of the next blow. Again, a memory of her taking a man and using him flashed past, but in a different way that left her ashamed, abused, and humiliated. With each blow she had another orgasm. Haley had lost count by the time she finally passed out. She was awakened by a very unpleasant smell as the nurse waved something under her nose. “You will not keep the Director waiting. You would not like what happens if you disappoint him.” The woman went to the door and snapped her fingers. The two orderlies returned to the room and released Haley from the bench. The exhausted girl was unable to stand on her own, but the two men easily lifted her and carried her along between them. Haley was taken down a short hall and up two flights of stairs. She was not sure how, but she knew the hall they were in led to the rear of the building, that the office to which they were heading would overlook the gardens and any activity there. The nurse knocked in a perfunctory manner, then entered. With Haley between them, the orderlies followed. The office was wide and would have been well-lit if there were daylight, but the only thing outside the windows was the thick gray mist. In the office, there was a couch to one side, which Haley had a good view of as the orderlies went in one behind the other and their movements turned her so she went through the door sideways. As they lined up properly behind the nurse again, Haley could see a heavyset man behind a large desk that looked proper for such a large office. The nurse gave a curtsey to the man. “Director, here she is. Her response to the treatment was excellent. But I must point out….” The man waved her to silence. “Yes, Mrs. Jones, I am aware of your dedication to our guests. Now, James, Hans, please present the young woman. I wish to examine her response to the treatment.” He indicated the space right in front of his desk. Mrs. Jones moved to one side, making space for Haley. The two orderlies set Haley in the spot indicated and backed away. Something about the Director, and the way he looked at her, terrified her. The terror gave her strength to stand, but her legs trembled with the effort. The man stood up and came around the desk. For some reason Haley couldn’t remember, it did not seem odd that he had no feet. Her exhausted mind couldn’t seem to hold a thought. But, as he glided around her she could feel the chill that came off of everyone in this place. And, as before, she could feel her body stirring. Her breathing deepened. Stopping, he leaned back against his desk and took a moment to look down and smile at his feet. As he looked back up, his eyes settled on the front of her dress. “Mrs. Jones, is that what I think it is?” He gestured toward Haley’s fluid-darkened crotch. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Mrs. Jones nodded in reply. “Yes sir. As I said, the girl responded surprisingly well. She juiced herself multiple times. I’d say a right perfect harlot she is. She’ll be needing lots of discipline.” “Mrs. Jones, I know you take your duties as head matron very seriously, but you will have plenty of time for that later.” Mrs. Jones nodded as a smile came over her face. Haley really didn’t want to know what the woman was thinking. “But first things first, as they say,” the Director pulled a watch out of a pocket in his vest and, after checking the time, did a count-down on his fingers. As he pulled in the last finger, there was a shudder and the room… rippled. The Director smiled, and Haley liked that smile even less than the one Mrs. Jones had. “My dear young woman, I feel it proper that you know about where you find yourself. This Institute was a place where wayward young women were brought, where they were given purpose. Here they were accepted and given a home.” He leaned in so his face was just inches from her own. This close she could see that his skin was pale and unnaturally smooth. “This is now your home.” He reached out and pushed her chin up. As his fingers touched her flesh it was if molten ice were poured down her skin. The icy flow traveled to her nipples, and they became dagger-hard. The flow continued on down to her pussy, and, when it arrived there, her muscles spasmed in lust. As close as the Director was, Haley could clearly see how his face changed. His skin took on normal tones, and she could see pores appear. “Ah yes, you are a special girl. All kinds of delicious sexual energies in you.” He took a deep sniff of her neck. With his fingers never breaking contact, his hand stroked down her neck. His touch kept her body vibrating on the edges of orgasm. “Oh, yes, this is now your home. We will feed off you. We will feed, and, in return, we will keep you young and vital for all eternity.” He laughed. ****************************** The dawn of the first day of November broke chill and bleak. A thick fog filled the vale. Hidden in the gray mist a faded mansion huddled, forgotten… but no longer alone. Edited by C. Lakewood

What happens when you summon female Leprechauns? This short story takes on the question of why all Leprechauns are male… sort of. I knew the Pixies were messing with me earlier. They waited until I published my first story before bringing me this one. Like all my Celtic stories, some of this is historical fact, some is Irish myth, and some is straight out of my warped and twisted imagination. I will leave it to you to figure out which is which. ...

I had been planning this day for a little while and the weather was cooperating. It was just about 60 F and there was a light misty rain so there wouldn’t be too many people out on the trails where I was headed. A little while ago I had purchased a full body leather harness. I wasn’t sure if I would like it, but after getting it adjusted and figuring out the best way to fit my balls and cock into the ring I was hooked. It felt so good and the smell of leather is so intoxicating. ...

I had experimented with self bondage for a while. It had been restricted to solo experiences. Then I discovered a site where I could post naked pictures of myself and there was also a forum with local sections. I posted on the forum I was looking for others to join in outdoor naked photo sessions. A few answered they were interested and I emailed back and forth with one guy for a bit expressing what I was looking for. ...

Techster and I are always looking for some new piece of “gear” to use when we play our XXX BDSM games. Last weekend I was stuck in traffic watching a new chain link fence being erected at an RV dealer’s storage yard and I looked at the eight tall by ten foot long section that would be used as a gate and a fiendish idea came to me. Then the manager of the RV storage lot came up to the men installing the fence and screamed, “Stop right now! I need a twelve-foot wide entry gate! These RV drivers will tear that up in a second!” ...

Don’t trust him. Chapter 1. “He is sweet!” Anna whispered to her best friend Helen. Helen looked across at the retreating back of a shortish man wandering off. Helen had a slight history with the man and wouldn’t call him sweet. Dangerous maybe a fun nice guy but once he got to know you he was scary. They had only spent a couple of weeks as a couple but she had enjoyed it and would have had a longer relationship if he had wanted her to. But she didn’t dislike him that much considering he had decided to end it. So he must be something like sweet as she didn’t normally like her ex’s. ...

story continues from part two Part 3: Hell For Danielle Thursday Evening Hours had passed since Danielle had been disposed of in the dumpster. There had been no sign of life since the lids slammed down on her. Danielle had finished work at 4pm, so it was very likely to be late evening now, and the cleaners had probably gone home. This meant she was going to have to gruel out all night inside this dumpster. The thought of such an idea nearly made Danielle sick. There wasn’t a large amount of trash alongside her, but what was there of it was stinking, mainly of poo and rotten food. There was no choice here, Danielle was going to have to wait until the morning for the cleaners to find her and help her out. She would have to sleep here tonight. Jennifer’s plan was a decent one but surely she hadn’t considered that Danielle would easily be found in here by the cleaners? ...

Story continued from part one Part Two 2 Snake swallowing female I had been surprised by the gift my husband had given me for my birthday, not something you’d expect as a gift, but I had revealed one of my deepest hidden fantasies to him one day after sex, Jerry had since that time planned the whole thing to surprise me for my birthday. What was the gift you ask? A Snake, you see my fantasy was to be eaten, swallowed whole and devoured by a snake, I have had this fantasy for a long while, and whilst I knew that it would never be possible in real life, I would die if I tried, in my fantasy I would enjoy the swallowing until the final part of me disappeared, then my orgasm would crash over me. Now that you know my secret, I will get back and tell you what happened after the surprise gift. In the basement Jerry had constructed a glass enclosure, this contained the snake and was its home, it had a very large crate in one corner in which the snake had been delivered and was now its bed, so to speak, it was where it took itself off to after feeding, to sleep off the meal it had just swallowed, which was me. It was scary at first being swallowed by the snake, it all looked so real and final, with me tightly bound, at my request, naked and covered in the feeding gel for the snake to eat. If I wasn’t tied up I think I may have jumped up and run away, but in the end I found I was content to lay there and let the snake swallow me, my fears drifted off and I felt that I was happy to be the snakes food. It felt wonderful as my body was slowly swallowed inside of the snake, the tightness of the internal muscles moving my body down towards the snake’s stomach brought out a couple of excellent climaxes in me. Jerry had stood there watching his wife being eaten by the snake, his hand on his own snake bringing himself off just as the last part of me disappeared inside the creature. The video he made of me being eaten was enjoyed several times that evening by him, and unknown to me at the time, several like-minded people on the internet, they all enjoyed watching me being devoured by the beast. What Jerry hadn’t told me when he explained the whole genetically modified/engineered snake thing was, just how long I would be inside of the snake? The gel food that covered my body was the actual food that would feed the snake, not my own body thankfully, though I did seem to be disappointed to Jerry that this wasn’t a real snake, and that I wouldn’t be totally consumed by the snake, he even offered to buy a real one, but I told him that I wanted to live a long time to come yet. Just how long did it take for the snake to absorb the gel inside its stomach? I had no clue, Jerry hadn’t told me that part, but I figured I would eventually find out. And after another wonderful orgasm inside of the snake I drifted back off to sleep again. The snake had felt me playing with myself inside its tummy; and it had tightened its grip with its internal muscles, thinking that its food was trying to escape. But the tightening walls brought out more in my orgasm, my body spasming with the overwhelming climax that ran through my body. Many hours later I was awoken as I felt the snake move, it had slivered out of the crate that was its home and moved over to the corner nearest the door. Here it started to regurgitate the left-over food that its body could not digest – me. This was what the snake was apparently engineered to do once it had absorbed the feeding gel, the rest was just waste to the snake, something to disposed of. I awoke to find that I was now travelling in the direction I had come from, back up to the snakes mouth, the internal muscles of the snake moving me closer to the opening that had swallowed me in the first place. Soon I saw the light change, the opening of the snake’s mouth was close now, it didn’t take long for the snake to regurgitate me, quicker I guess than the whole swallowing I had experienced before. My head was shortly followed by my body and then lastly my legs emerged and my feet popped out and fell to the ground. It was like being reborn again. I was now out of the snake, still bound, gagged and naked, but feeling wonderful for the experience I had just been through, I was content to lay there in that spot until Jerry, my husband, would find me later. The snake meanwhile, now content with feeding went back to its crate and went back to sleep, it no longer had any interest in me. Jerry found me still in that spot later when he came down to check on the snake and me, he picked me up and carried my still bound body over to a spot on the floor outside of the enclosure. He then unzipped his trousers and pulled his now hard penis out from its own enclosure, then he wasted no time in bending me over on my knees, my head and shoulders pressed onto the cold floor as he pushed himself deep into my hot, wet and wanting vagina. I was just a trussed up package to him, something to be used and enjoyed, which he did. * * * A couple of days later I entered the basement to check on the snake, as I did every morning, sometimes I would just sit there and stare at the creature, watching it as it moved or just as it laid still and watched me back, its eyes meeting mine. Except this morning the snake was more active, this I knew would mean that the snake was getting hungry and would need to be fed its next meal very soon. And my tummy was having a wonderful butterfly effect on the thought of me again as its food source. Luckily I work from home, so I my plan was to work as quickly as I could on the more important stuff and leave the other non-urgent work until later. I would then have the afternoon free to feed the snake and enjoy some fun time for myself. Quickly devouring my own breakfast, I was soon busy working, though my mind was still thinking about what was going to happen this afternoon. After completing what I wanted to, I ate a quick lunch, I didn’t want to waste time as I knew that I wanted to experience the wonderful feeling that I had the first time I was eaten by the snake. But the problem was that Jerry was still at work, and I didn’t want to wait. I thought that if I timed it right, Jerry would find me in the basement just as my head was the last thing that the snake was going to devour. I quickly wrote him a note explaining that I was feeding the snake in the basement and left it for him in the entrance hall to our home. He’d know what that meant. Now I was ready, I headed up to the bedroom; I planned to tease my husband first before allowing the snake to have me for its dinner. Showered and dried, I didn’t want the snake to eat me whilst I felt unclean, I headed to my part of the walk-in robe where I keep all of my sexy outfits, I decided when planning this that I would be a maid, so the maids costume was brought out along with the stockings and heels. Pulling the stockings up my smooth legs always turns me on and I had to resist the urge to play with myself, I had things to do so that enjoyment would have to wait. Now the costume, adjusting the dress to fall in the right spots, the frilly apron was next and then the matching white frilly knickers, I have teased Jerry many times wearing these, bending over to pick things I dropped on the ground in front of him. He has even spanked me in this outfit, the delightful memory of him pulling me over his knees and pulling the knickers down to my knees before soundly spanking my exposed fleshy rear, bringing a warm ,wet feeling between my legs. Bringing my thoughts back to the project at hand, I slipped my feet into the heels and then placed the maids bonnet on top of my hair, I was now dressed as a sexy maid and admired what I saw in the mirror, this would tease Jerry no end I thought. Walking downstairs and then down to the basement was difficult in the high heels but I made it without injury. The snake was moving inside its enclosure, seeing something moving outside, waiting for its next meal. I would soon be that next meal, but first I had some other plans. I went around and got things ready, I switched on all of the cameras, I wanted to record all of this for Jerry to watch later and for me to enjoy again and again, but more so to tease my husband, hence the outfit. I walked over to the stairs again and knew that I was out of shot of the cameras, now it was time to play the French maid that Jerry loves so much. I walked back into the basement, the cameras recording my every move. I began tidying up various things, putting things away and muttering to myself in a vague French accent, more comical than real. Then I looked from the cameras to the rear where the glass snake enclosure was, and I began to clean the glass, stretching upwards to reveal the stocking tops and bending to expose my frilly covered rear for all to see. In my acting the part of the maid I spotted the snake moving, it was watching me cleaning the glass, following my every move. I watched it back to and in my mind I said, “Soon my lover, I will be yours.” I spoke out loud for the benefit of the cameras and my later audience of my husband, “Ma we! You look very hungry Mr. Snake, would you like me to feed you?” Turning back to the cameras I gave a smile. “It seems that the beast needs to be fed, what do I feed this hungry snake?” By now the snakes face was against the glass, its tongue flicking out to sample the air, but I took this as a sign it wanted me as its food. “Mon due! You wish to eat me Mr. Snake?” I said in my poor mock French accent, my hand covering my mouth in pretend shock. “Oh my, it seems that I am destined to be the snake’s next meal!” I played up for the camera. “Oh well, Mr Snake if you want to eat this poor maid, who am I to argue.” I then walked away from the glass and towards the camera, “Okay Mr Snake, let me get myself ready for you.” I then started to strip in full view of the cameras, I turned and bent over revealing my frilly knickers as I unbuckled the shoes, my rear nicely presented to the camera. Next I stood up and started to remove my maids’ apron, followed by the dress, leaving me just in the frilly panties and stockings. The striptease continued for the audience with me sitting down on a chair to slowly remove the stockings, each one flicked towards the camera to tease Jerry. Then standing again, I turned and bent over as I pulled my knickers down to my ankles, taking my time doing so and revealing the hidden inner treasure that was located between my thighs. Now naked I walked over to the cabinet where we kept the pots of feeding gel for the snake, I reached in and grabbed the first one to hand, not aware of the significance of the color of the pots. I hadn’t taken much notice the first time to see that this pot was gold rather than silver, I would later learn the difference. I walked back holding the pot to the center of the basement and started to apply the gel to my naked body, it felt cold at first and it seemed thicker than I recalled from the first time, but put that down to being more interested in the snake the first time rather than the gel. Now covered from head to toe in the feeding gel, I had even teased the cameras by bending over and exposing my sex to the lenses when applying the stuff to my legs. I also spent more time rubbing the gel into my breasts, all the time taking great pleasure in the feelings I was experiencing and also teasing the audience via the camera. Next I picked up the ropes that I would use to tie myself up with. “Nearly zere, Mr. Snake, soon you vill be able to eat this poor maid.” I spoke in my maids’ accent. I bent over and tied the rope around my ankles, again exposing myself and delighting in knowing I was doing so. More rope went around my knees and then I made the final piece to the bondage puzzle, the wrist rope. This was just a double loop with a cinch rope that I had used many times when tying myself up, pulling on the ropes would tighten them against my skin and hold my hands bound in front of me, well I wanted to ‘enjoy’ my time being swallowed, just like last time, I knew my fingers would be kept busy. Fastening the gag around my neck, I was now ready for the snake to eat me. I hopped over to the glass enclosure and pulled open the door for the snake to exit and find me, and hopped back into the center where all of the cameras could watch me being eaten. Noting the time I would expect Jerry home in about an hour or so, I would only be so far inside of the snake judging by what happened last time, I was hoping for him to find just my head and he could watch as it too disappeared inside the snake. “Okay, Mr Snake, I am ready for you to eat, please be gentle with this poor maid.” I spoke again, mainly for the cameras, I didn’t know if the snake could understand me. I reached for the gag and popped it into my mouth, adjusting the fit and closing the strap as tightly as I desired, the straps pulling into my cheeks, the flesh cut into by the tight straps. Now I placed my hands through the loops in the rope bondage and pulled them, the rope tightened perfectly, I could get out if I wanted to but once inside the snake this would be impossible, this was my last chance to change things. Content with what I had done so far I lay down on the floor and waited for the snake. The snake meanwhile had caught the scent of the feeding gel, and its next meal – me. It began slithering its way to the now open door, soon it found its way onto the basement floor and worked its way over to where the delightful smell was coming from. I lay there watching the snake come out of the enclosure; I was fascinated by the way it moved, to me at that moment all there was in the basement was me and the snake, we were soon to become one. The cameras kept recording as the snake found its way to where I lay, it explored the air for the scent that the gel was giving off, mixed in with my own body odour and arousal. My finger absent-mindedly playing with my little pleasure button as I stared transfixed by the snake. Soon its tongue sampled the taste of my toes, the gel covering them was to its liking and it began to prepare for eating the meal laid out for it to devour. My fingers were bringing out wonderful sensations from between my legs, my arousal building from their ministrations and also the thought that I would soon be inside of the snake’s stomach, just another meal for it to digest. To it I was just food, it didn’t care about me or my life, my fantasies were not its concern, here laid out before it was its next meal, I was just prey and would soon be swallowed and on my way down deep inside of the snake. The snake would then carry my body inside of it back into its enclosure and then its lair, there it would slowly digest what it had eaten, content for the next few days and slumber whilst the food was dissolved in its belly. Soon my feet were again inside of the snakes’ mouth, shortly followed by my lower legs and then my knees. The snake seemed to enjoy swallowing me; I was certainly enjoying it swallowing me and looked forward to all of me being inside of the snake again. My thighs followed my knees and then we again came to the widest part, my hips, the last time the snake had learnt to pick me up and use my own body weight to help my hips slip inside the snake’s mouth. It did the same this time too, I felt the snake lift my body off of the floor, my head at first bumping on the cold surface but eventually the snake managed to hold me up long enough for my hips to slide inside its open mouth. Again my fingers had done their work and I climaxed as the snake swallowed both my hips and my bound hands inside its mouth, the shuddering as I came gave the snake concern to stop swallowing and laid there waiting for its meal to stop moving, patiently waiting for me to have my sexual high. Coming down from the wonderful orgasm I looked down to the snake to see why it had stopped. “Sorry Mr Snake, please continue to eat me.” I said. The snake again started swallowing and my tummy was soon inside along with the rest of my lower body. As the snake approached my breasts I looked up to check the time and hoped that Jerry would be here soon. The snake again used my body weight to devour my soft round breasts, these now pressed tightly against the inner walls of the snakes’ esophagus. Now all that was left was my shoulders and head. The feel of the tightness against my breast brought out another climax in me, my fingers still working my little nub between my thighs and again the shuddering brought the snake to a halt in eating me. Either that or it was resting after swallowing the major obstacles it found in my body, anyway we both lay there, with most of my body now inside of the snake, with just my head visible to the cameras recording the event. I again looked at the clock and thought that Jerry should be here by now, but unknown to me was held up by traffic on the way home from the office. Now the snake was happy that it had rested and the prey had stopped moving so much, it began again to start swallowing me. It didn’t take long for my shoulders and then my head to disappear inside of the snake, the last view I had was of the empty basement and then the inside of the snakes mouth as my head was pulled into the waiting maw of the hungry beast. I was now totally inside of the snake and on my way down to the final destination of its empty tummy. Once I was swallowed whole, the snake just laid there as I was moved further inside the creature by the internal muscles down into its stomach. That’s where Jerry found the snake, the bulge that was his wife evidence that I had been eaten by the snake again, I was now just the beasts food. He ran his hands over the outside to feel for me, I could feel him touching me through the snakes’ skin and after playing with my breasts again, and my playing with my clit some more I was brought to a delightful, yet powerful climax. The snake now fully rested after consuming its meal headed back to the enclosure; soon it would curl up with me inside it in the crate that was now its bed. We both now content with ourselves, the snake happy with another meal and me just happy to provide that meal for the snake. Jerry began cleaning up after closing the door to the enclosure, he watched as the snake moved over to the crate and again curl up inside. Jerry saw the costume on the floor and also noticed the cameras recording, he was very happy that I had done that and couldn’t wait to see the video, and of course share it with others on the internet. Then he spotted the gel I had used, he knew straight way what I had done. He walked over to the enclosure and walked inside over to where the snake with me inside were contentedly dozing, my body now adjusted to being bent like a pretzel inside of the snake. I felt his hand on the outside again and then heard him speaking, “Honey, thanks for the video, I look forward to watching it. Sorry I couldn’t be here to watch you slide down the throat of the snake.” He said, and then in a different tone spoke to me inside of the snake. “Errm, Honey, I don’t know how to say this, but the gel you used is the concentrated version, it’ll take much longer for the snake to digest and absorb. I hope that you haven’t had anything planned for the next day or so, I don’t know how long this stuff will take to be digested by the snake.” Meanwhile I was at first concerned about spending more time inside of the snake, I did have things to do, but now it seems that I would have to wait. I brought myself off again on hearing the news, this day had turned out much better than I had planned it seemed. I was happy and content inside the belly of the beast, the snake was happily feeding off of me, it all seemed so perfect to me. Jerry meanwhile closed the door to the glass enclosure, taking one last look at the snake with the bulge of his wife inside of its belly, he switched off the cameras, picked up the hard drive and headed upstairs to watch what was on the recording, turning off the light he closed the basement door and headed for his computer. “The plan seems to be going well,” he said to himself, “Another snake swallowing video for the growing customer base. I knew this would be a good idea after watching all of those online images.” ...

story continues from part three Part Four Chapter Seven (added: 05/12/2009) Tammy awoke once more behind the steering wheel of her car. The corset of the green latex dress tightly hugged her. She could also feel the pressure on her lower face from the mouth and neck corset. And she could tell that the gag plug had been returned and fully inflated. As had the inflatable dildo and butt plug which were deeply entrenched in her lower orifices. And to her body’s delight they were producing the desired effects of their designers. She sighed and let her head fall backward against the headrest. Looking up into the rear view mirror, she saw that the elf hat and ears had also been replaced. Then, fragmented visions suddenly flashed in her mind. Shane Thompson pulling the Catwoman mask from her head while she was strapped to the gynecology examination table she had seen in their studio. Chad Willows’ smirking as he tightly wrapped her legs with bondage tape securing them to the stirrups, making sure they were spread as wide as the table allowed. His cousin, Thad tightening the cuffs that secured her arms at her wrists, elbows and biceps along the sides of the table. And Riley holding a video camera, taking extreme close-ups of her face and body as the four men loudly laughed at her. Then darkness, as the blindfold was returned plunging her once again into the world of unseen mysteries. She felt the sting of needles, pricking each of her breasts. Then more of the painful pricks tantalized the shaven area just above her still very moist and wanton love box. Another flash and she time-leapt forward to them securing her to the table with more straps and tape. The blindfold had been removed and above her a large mirror hung from the ceiling; in its reflection she watched them completely restrain her entire body. She could barely wiggle a finger or bend a toe. Nor could she see any exposed flesh, except for her still growing nipples and her very open and available pussy. They had forced 2 soft foam balls the size of grapefruits through the ring gag and wrapped an entire roll of rainbow colored bondage tape around her lower face, silencing her pleas even more than before. Then, a foot long thin sharp needle was waved menacingly in front of her and she heard them laugh as they pierced her. “OH MY GOD, NO!!!!” Tammy silently screamed reaching up and turning the rearview mirror down to see bold red letters on her huge breasts and a 3-inch diameter golden ring dangling through each nipple. “NO! NO! NO! NO!” She followed the golden chain connecting the rings in her nipples together to the similar ring running through her clit. Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. On each of her breasts permanently tattooed in bright red were the words: TIE ME, GAG ME, FUCK ME And, below them just above her pussy it read: BROUGHT TO YOU BY VOYEUR VIDEO Tammy knew there was no way she’d be able to get rid of these or hide them from Mike. She couldn’t stop staring at their reflections in the mirror. She was now a walking advertisement for the twin’s video store. “They kept you longer than I had planned, Mrs. Dufrane… But, I must complement you on your new jewelry and artwork… They look very exquisite on you…” VanNorkin’s voice returned to her ears. “However, poor Chandra hasn’t much hope left. And you’ve a few more concerns to deal with as well. You let those ‘crazy boys’ go and ruin all the presents you had left to deliver. It saddens me that there are going to be several well deserving people to miss out on seeing you in costume… But such is life, I have no choice now… We’ll make this next stop your last….” The GPS sprang to life. Tammy reluctantly glanced over at it. Through her tears she saw Chandra still bandaged, but lying in less than an inch of fluid. “I’m so sorry, Chandra…” Tammy whispered as her face drooped even more. Then the GPS screen changed and started her directions to her next stop. With tears still rolling down her cheeks, Tammy zombie-like followed them. She could feel her spirit had been beaten down and her future hopes looked destroyed. She even stopped paying any attention to where she was driving. “TURN LEFT INTO THE PARKING LOT!” The male voice of the GPS ordered. And the despondent feeling inside her increased a hundred fold. The sign next to the parking lot entrance screamed at her in large bold black letters: WELCOME TO BRANSWORTH COUNTRY CLUB MERRY CHRISTMAS EDMUNSEN TRUST EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE AND BOARD OF DIRECTORS “The annual Christmas party for the board and special customers,” Tammy breathed into the gag. She had forgotten about it, seeing as how she and Chandra weren’t going to be there this year. All of the members of the Board of Directors and Executive Committee, as well as many of the city’s top officials and most of the bank’s primary customers and their spouses would be in there. Anyone who is anyone with the bank or the city always attended. Tammy hesitated at the parking lot entrance debating about going in. James VanNorkin read her mind. “I am an invited guest here as well, Mrs. Dufrane…” His voice triumphantly said. “Bring me my diamonds, save your beloved Chandra and show everyone the real you!” Tammy pulled into the empty space at near the front of the lot, right next to the short walkway to the Country Club’s front door. She was at a complete loss. Why would he be invited to their banquet? And by whom? She looked at the stately building and remembered the many times she and Mike had come to this party since their marriage. She enjoyed going shopping with him to get that special gown for the occasion. The one that screamed tie and gag me to him, while looking refined and dignified to the crowd. Posing and primping for him, sensually teasing him with her body as she dressed for the banquet all the while knowing he would have her tightly trussed and gagged in the trunk of the car afterward on their drive home. But this time, Tammy knew she wasn’t quite as appropriately dressed for the occasion as before. Of course, as she had known they would the moment she left the car her arms snapped together behind her back. Once more forcing her to thrust her huge breasts forward and sending them scouting on ahead of her. The gold rings immediately absorbed the cold and transferred it to her nipples and clit. This in turn sent an unwanted signal of sexual arousal through her entire system alerting the dildo and butt plug to dutifully follow their mission. The golden connecting chain swung against her with each half step she took. Her boots had locked together from her knees to her thighs forcing her to once again take many short steps rather than fewer longer ones. Tammy could feel her face flash pass an embarrassed blush to a deep bright humiliated hue as all eyes turned toward her entrance into the large banquet hall at the announcement of her name by the Country Club Maitre d’. “Follow me. You have been expected.” He simply said, after announcing her. Tammy had to quicken her pace to keep up with him. This gave the gawking eyes even more of a show, for she had to swing her hips more causing her breasts to flip-flop back and forth and the golden chain to gyrate in rhythm to her saunter. As she made her way through the crowd, their laughing voices burned in her ears as they read and commented on her tattoos and glared at her new jewelry. An enormous television was to her right as she entered a room at the far end of the banquet hall. Seated behind a long table on a raised platform were Mr. and Mrs. Edmunsen, Mayor Hamond and his wife, several board members and their spouses that Tammy recognized and James VanNorkin. Tammy would have given an evil glare at the mustachioed man, but standing next to him was Chandra, dressed in the gown Tammy had worn to last year’s event. And next to her wearing a very debonair tuxedo, her beloved husband Michael Andrew Dufrane stood with his arm around her. Tammy stopped dead still, staring into Mike’s blue eyes. Her mind raced for answers to the thousands of unanswerable questions that flooded in. “You did bring the diamonds in with you, didn’t you, Mrs. Dufrane?” The man beneath the black beret asked. Tammy barely heard him, nor could she move in response to him, for her eyes were locked onto Mike’s. “Did you not hear him, precious?” Mike said after a seemingly hour long minute passed by. “You did bring the diamonds in with you, didn’t you dearest…” Tammy blinked her eyes. And on the fourth blink the fact that he spoke of the diamonds sunk in. “He knew about the diamonds…” Tammy’s mind quietly whispered to her. “Did he also know what had happened to me? Was he a party to all of this as before? Is this really happening? Is any of this real?” “Your dear husband and I planned this over 10 years ago…” James VanNorkin laughed stepping from the stage, moving next to her and reaching behind her took the backpack filled with diamonds from her hands. “We needed a patsy to take the blame for the disappearance of the Organization’s gems.” ...

(story continues from My Summer Of Dares 12: Embracing my Canine Transformation) Part 13: A New Kind Of Torment It was a forgone conclusion that I would be riding in that cage on the back of a truck on the way back to the summer house, but something had happened inside of me, a further mindless following of orders that felt quite natural. There was a point where I could have objected obviously, but I had chosen not to for reasons that it would be hard to explain rationally. I was the center of attention though, and a part of me I think liked taking that away from my pretty friends, although I should have known that there would be an obvious price to pay at some point for upstaging them so. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A few final surprises await Walter and Holly at Pond Cove. The saga comes to a close as Walter and Holly return to school… now as teachers. How they get their new teaching positions, who their principals will be, and where they will teach is all discovered in this final chapter of Summer at Pond Cove. ...

Logan turned the shower nozzle to the right, unleashing a cascade of warm water over his body. Immediately, his tense muscles loosened under the soft pressure of the shower head and the steam that billowed up around him. He squeezed a dollop of body wash into his hands and lathered it on his naked skin. Using his fingernails, Logan gently freed the dirt that had stuck to his body during baseball practice. The particles ran down his legs and escaped down the drain in a spinning cyclone of mud. ...

story continues from part one Part 2: Preparing For Revenge The Day After The Landfill Escape After saving Jennifer from her burial at the landfill site, Anita drove them back to her house. Unsurprisingly Anita allowed Jennifer immediate use of the shower. After a shower and a cup of hot chocolate Jennifer went straight to the spare room and crashed out, evidently exhausted from her trashy experience. After a long lie in, Jennifer got out of bed the next morning and headed for the kitchen. There she found a note from Anita saying to help herself to some breakfast. Jennifer cooked up sausages and bacon and wolfed down her food. After all, she hadn’t eaten anything apart from trash for 4 days. After her breakfast, Jennifer laid herself down on the sofa. She began to think about her experience as a piece of garbage, and wondered how to go about gaining revenge on Danielle. Ideas came into her head seeing Danielle in various bins and dumpsters. She imagined Danielle tied up inside a black trash bag. Then Jennifer’s mind wandered to imagining herself throwing Danielle into a trash compactor. In her mind she pressed the start button and Danielle would be squished among the garbage inside as she pleaded for help and forgiveness. Jennifer couldn’t settle on any ideas though. She also had a fear that one wrong move could turn the tables and Danielle could once again be throwing Jennifer away, this time permanently. A new image appeared in her mind, one of Danielle tossing her in the compactor and pressing the dreaded start button. She could hear Danielle’s laughter as the compactor squashed Jennifer in amongst the trash. This ended up killing off Jennifer’s train of thought. Danielle was taller and stronger than her, and she was very capable of overpowering Jennifer. ...

(story continues from The Investigative Reporter 13) Part 14: Little Fugitive’s Racing Career (part one) (Sorry for the delay on this story, I have had a few projects running at the same time and thought that there wasn’t all that much interest in my finishing this particular one… I have since been corrected, Jackie.) Little Fugitive looked tan and more muscular in her stall as I inspected her the following day, endless paperwork and a tiny bit of apathy keeping me away until then. She didn’t recognize me though, again her eyes told the tale with her vacant stare and accompanying mindless expression, but this time for me face to face. Sam was with me and evidentially proud of his work, I praising his resourcefulness and clever use of her harness time in front of Little Fugitive’s stall just in case some small part of her humanity were still in there (as unlikely as that was), she then knowing I was ultimately responsible for her new lot in life and not he. ...

story continues from part one Part 2: The Jailbreak In the morning the sheriff and the town’s mayor visited me in my cell, I having been provided a course wool blanket that I had kicked off after I discovered it’s rough texture and my abused backside didn’t get along well. The ferocity of my punishment made me feel quite warm anyway, like a sunburn, and I slept on my belly to try to find the maximum comfort all things considered. The sheriff had let me shower off in the jail’s open shower stall before putting me up for the night in my cell, and it was there that I removed the sadistic but wonderful little balls that I had been given as a consolation prize by my one time professor and temporary executioner. ...

story continues from part one Day 2 The cell door opened with a creak. It would take a much louder noise to awaken her after the day she had yesterday. She had fallen asleep quickly despite the considerable pain she had been in. Once asleep she hadn’t moved a muscle. “Wake up Ms. Thompson.” Mr. Carson said No reaction she was still sound asleep. “Ms. Thompson, wake up!” he nearly shouted “Or you’ll get another day.” ...

Summary: A young woman with a thing for truckers, a love of handcuffs and a broken heart goes riding off to the beach for a weekend with her best friend to salve that broken heart. Along the way she encounters someone who may just be a match for her made in heaven… Tina was my best (female) friend, we’d been friends since 5th grade, so that was, what, over a decade now? She and I were housemates right now and driving from our desert home town to the coast to hopefully fix a problem. ...

I woke up on the first morning of my two week unpaid “vacation” thinking about my long flight beginning the next afternoon and the terrible week at work I had just put behind me. A good portion of the terrible week fell square on my shoulders for missing some key reporting deadlines costing the company several thousand dollars in fines. That combined with my bull headedness and mouth not wanting to fully take the blame for my failure almost cost me my job. The only thing that I am sure saved me from an outright dismissal was the one time while working late the owner and I wound up fucking in the break room. We met up there waiting for our internet to come back online after a temporary outage and were showing each other pictures on our phones. I had forgotten that there were some on there of me getting a spanking at a swingers club in town and he discovered them while swiping. He offered to make my ass as red as my cheeks and I accepted. It made for some uncomfortable meetings for a while but for the last year or so things were ok, that is until this week when I screwed up so bad. ...

Snake swallowing female Since my early teenage years I have had this sexual fantasy of being taken by a snake, eaten, swallowed down, and I frequently masturbated to the images in my mind, of me being swallowed down by the snake as its food, I was nothing more than its food, it’s prey, and many wonderful orgasms were rubbed out by me living this fantasy in my head. But after one very arousing sex session with my husband, many years later and I revealed my inner-most secret fantasy of being eaten by a snake. But more of that later, I’m Janice and I’m married to the most wonderful guy in the whole world, Jerry, we play out our fantasies together, his is mostly me being a submissive slave girl to his master, which I love playing. I would also tease him in the bedroom, lounge or even in the car, I would have my hands behind my back, with my body nicely present to him in some sexy lingerie or costume. “I have a present for you… Master.” I would say, my eyes looking from him down to the floor, in my best submissive manner. “And what would that present be?” He would ask, thinking that I had something hidden behind me. “ME!!” I would say and jump onto his lap, or the bed and quickly find my way down to his hardening penis, taking it in my hands and giving him pleasure inside my warm, wet mouth. I’ve even visit him in his office, a coat covering the sexy underwear beneath; I was soon under his desk showing what a good secretary I would be. Luckily he’s the boss, so no one disturbed us whilst I was hard at work. I love playing role-playing games; I’m usually the victim, kidnapee, damsel, or call-girl etc, whilst my husband plays the more dominant role in our games. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love being submissive to him, it turns me on and makes me very horny even thinking about it. I especially love it when he ties me up, gagged and bound and taken by him. We’ve had many, many enjoyable sessions where I’ve been tightly tied up and used by him. So after recovering from one of our sessions, we were speaking about long held fantasies, he told me some of his, mostly having a female victim tied up, used by him and tormented with denied orgasms, until finally she was begging for him to make her cum. Which we’ve done in the past. He also mentioned spanking a bound female as well as another of his deep fantasies, we’ve done that one too I reminded him. “Well, I’ve told you just about all I can recall of my fantasies, what are yours?” he asked me. “I’m tied up and used by my Master, denied orgasm and spanked.” I replied. Laughing. “Yes, that’s my fantasy, but what deep hidden secret do you hold in the pretty little head of yours?” he said. “Well…” I started to say, “No you’d think I was silly or deranged.” Embarrassed I buried my head in his shoulder. “No whatever it is I’d like to know, maybe we could act it out.” He encouraged. “No, it’s not something we could act out.” I relied. “Really, now I want to know what it is.” He smiled, eager to find the hidden gem in my fantasy mind. “It’s not something that most normal people would even think about, sorry but I’m too embarrassed to tell you. You’d think I was crazy or something.” I said, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow me. “I can’t…” “Let me guess then.” He asked. “Okay big boy, try to find out my fantasy.” I teased. “Look, is it having two men taking you, or maybe another woman in a threesome, or just you and the woman.” He beamed. “No, not that! Trust you to think of me with another woman.” I said, giving him a gentle smack with my hand on his chest. “Well, I can hope…” he laughed as he replied. “Is it something to do with animals, maybe a donkey or something.” “NO, there’s no donkey!” I said, shocked, but the vision of me entered my head… “No, there’s no sex involved.” Shaking the vision out of my mind. “Well, you’ve got me beat, what is it?” he again asked. “You’re not going to stop until I tell you, are you?” I questioned, hoping that I could get out of this hole I had dug myself into. “Nope!” he smirked, “You’re not going anywhere until you reveal this juicy secret.” “Okay, just don’t think of me as weird or kooky…” I paused, trying to summon up some courage. “I want to be eaten.” “What as in cooked and eaten, on a spit maybe?” he said. “I know where you’ve been looking on the internet!” I said, knowing that he loved looking at some of the darker parts of the web. “No cooking involved.” “Sushi then.” He quickly said, making me feel hungry all of a sudden. “No, not sushi or cooking, it’s a snake.” I whispered the last part. “A snake?” he asked, “Why would you want to be eaten by a snake?” “I don’t know, I’ve had this fantasy since I was a teenager, I am gradually swallowed and eaten by this large snake, I’m its prey, just food for the hungry beast.” I said, my head again buried in his shoulder as we both lay there in bed. “You would die.” He said. “Obviously, but I don’t want to die, just the experience of being taken, swallowed is enough to bring out an orgasm in me.” I revealed. “It’s not something I would want to do in real life knowing that once the snake had devoured me I would basically be dead. And I love you too much to leave you like that.” “Yes, I don’t want you to be eaten either, though it would be fun to watch you slowly sliding down into the snake…” he teased. “OH really, you’d love to see me digested in the belly of the snake.” I stated, knowing full well that in my fantasy I would love the once in a lifetime experience too. “But then you’d miss me.” “That’s true.” He said, “Until I get my next wife…” “Oh you!” I again hit his shoulder but this time much harder. “Anyway, all this talk of you being devoured by a snake has got my own snake aroused, maybe you could swallow it instead?” he smiled. “Yes, Master.” I teased, and headed under the bed covers to seek out the one-eyed trouser snake hidden below. Now relieved that I had gotten my fantasy out, and was now living out another fantasy of mine as his slave girl. * * * Many months later, the night long forgotten by me, it was the day of my birthday. One of the gifts he had gotten for me was a few days away at a health spa with a couple of girlfriends, all paid for by him. We’d had a great time away and I felt refreshed and rejuvenated when I returned that day. But whilst I was away, my devious husband had been planning and getting things ready for my big birthday surprise. “Welcome home darling, I hope that you and the girls had a wonderful time.” He said with a knowing, boyish smile. “Oh yes, we had a great time…” I winked, knowing that he was thinking of me in bed with my girlfriends, his dirty mind working overtime. “Well, while you’ve been away, I have been busy with a very special surprise for your birthday.” He teased. “Oh you needn’t have gone to any trouble; you could just tie me up and fuck me.” I suggested. “Well maybe later.” He winked, “But first I need you to put this blindfold on.” “Kinky!” I replied suggestively, “Yes Master…” “Okay, now I will take you to your surprise.” He said, making sure that I couldn’t see. He grabbed my hand and led me through the house. I wondered what he had done for me, what was the big surprise? We then stopped, I heard a door open and he guided me through. “Careful there are steps down.” He said. He helped me down the stairs; I wondered what he’d been up to in the basement of our house. Maybe he’s made a dungeon or something, some bdsm themed fantasy room of his to keep me bound and captive, my arousal building at the thought of that. “Okay, stand here.” He said, moving me to face in one direction. He took off the blindfold to reveal the surprise, I was still lost in the fantasy of some type of dungeon, I opened my eyes to see a very large glass wall in front of me, there seemed to even be a door to one side, and the glass went from the floor to the ceiling, dividing part of the basement off from the rest. I looked back at my husband not knowing what it was. “Don’t dungeons have walls, well not made of glass.” I asked. “It’s not a dungeon.” He replied, “though come to think of it that’s a good idea…” he smiled. “What is it then?” I asked. “Have a closer look.” He suggested. I walked a couple of yards for a closer look; there at the back something caught my eye. There was something large, long and brown with specks, and as I looked it moved. “It’s a snake!” I screamed. “You’ve gotten a snake in our basement.” “It’s your birthday gift from me.” He said, “Remember your fantasy?” “You’re going to feed me to the snake?” I stood there transfixed by the vision of the snake. “I wanted you to live your fantasy.” He said with a smile of his face, “While I watch…” “But I don’t want to die!” I said, “If I’m eaten…” “I don’t want you to die either, silly.” He said, “But I do want to please you. You mean everything to me.” “But seeing me eaten, and then slowly digested…” I replied, still staring at the snake. “Stop, you’re turning me on!” he laughed. “Me being food for the snake is a turn on for you?” I replied. “Yes, why not, a very sexy women slowly sliding down the throat of the snake, I can see the attraction in that.” He again laughed. “But…” I was too stunned for words. “Sorry darling, but you’re now just nothing more than snake food, better get undressed and ready for your fantasy.” He said, a teasing smile on his face. I still could not take my eyes off of the snake, it had started moving, and maybe it was sensing me as its next meal. I was too stunned at this moment and absent mindedly started to take off my clothes, leaving them in a pile around my ankles. All of my focus at that moment was on the snake. My husband just stood and watched me strip off, amazed at how I was willingly getting myself ready for my encounter with the snake. As soon as I was naked he again spoke. “Well seems like you’re ready there, all naked and ready to feed the snake, just like in your fantasy.” He said. “But, I haven’t told you everything.” “Whhatt… “ I said, still distracted. “The snake isn’t a real snake.” He said. “It’s a genetically modified version of a snake.” “Sorry, a what?” I asked. “I had the snake made for you, it is a genetically altered version of a snake, grown in a laboratory, so it’s not a real snake in a sense.” He said. “Not a real snake, it certainly looks like one.” I said looking from him and back to the snake. “Yes, in way it looks like any other snake, but this one is modified not to devour its prey.” He said. “Not devour, then how does it eat?” I asked, stunned at what modern science can come up with these days. “It’s this.” He said holding up a tub in his hand. “A modified protein gel, that the snake absorbs inside its stomach.” “Poor thing, how do we feed it the paste?” I asked. “Gel, we spread it all over something that it swallows.” He said looking at my naked body. “You mean me?” I asked. “Well yes, it’s your fantasy to be eaten by a snake, this way you get to experience it and not be digested.” He replied. “So my body is coated with the paste, sorry gel, and then the snake eats me?” I questioned him. “Yes.” He said. “But I’m still snake food, I’m swallowed by the snake, I’m covered in its food, what happens to me then?” I queried. “Once I’m swallowed I’ll die.” “No, I would never allow that to happen to you. Yes the snake will swallow you, but then as you enter it’s stomach the snake will digest the gel, its real food, and then once done it will regurgitate the left over waste, or uneaten food – that’s you, back out through its mouth.” He said with a smile. “So let me get this straight, I’m covered in the goo, the snake then swallows me, I end up in his stomach and it digests the goo off of me, won’t the stomach acids burn me as well?” I asked. “No, there are no acids in the snakes stomach otherwise you would, the snake uses an enzyme to digest the gel, leaving you with no harm.” He told me. “But what about breathing?” I asked. “You will be able to breath, the enzymes in the snake’s stomach when they absorb the protein gel give off oxygen, but also the snake’s skin is slightly porous, you will be able to take enough air in through the snake’s skin. Like if you were under a couple of blankets, or so I’ve been informed.” He told me. “So, I live through the whole thing then?” I said in reply. “You sound disappointed, did you expect to die inside the belly of the snake?” he looked shocked as he said that. ”Oh no… sorry, just lost in my fantasy…” I laughed. “I can get you a real snake if you wish, but you only get to try it once!” He said to me. “No, I’m not wanting a real snake…” I said, my mind still lost in my fantasy. “No, I want to be with you for a long while to come.” “Well do you want to try out your fantasy?” he asked me. “I’m still nervous; it all seems so real…” I stuttered, “But you’ve gone to so much trouble for me. Thank you.” I turned around and pressed my naked body up against his, my breast mashing against his chest as I kissed him deeply. I could feel his member getting stiffer against my thigh, “There’s just something I want to take care of first…” I smiled as I dropped down on my knees, eagerly seeking out his growing cock; my mouth was soon around it, teasing and sucking until he came. “Okay, are you ready?” Jerry asked me, now sated from my quickie oral session. “Yes, Master…” I said, looking back up at him from my submissive position on my knees, looking much like the cat that had gotten the cream, which I had and swallowed too. “You need to rub this gel all over your skin; I will help you where you can’t reach.” He said, handing me the pot. Opening it, it smelled yeasty, not unpleasant but it did have a strong odour. I reached in with my finger, the cold gel gathered up in my hand, a slimy paste, it gave me thoughts of Jerry’s cum, sending a wonderful tingle throughout my body. I was turned on by submitting to him and blowing him off, but I hadn’t climaxed, I just wanted to please him and I gained great pleasure & satisfaction from that. I began rubbing the gel over my legs, the slimy goo seemed to cling onto my flesh and give it a sheen, my skin tingling as the gel covered it, goosebumps appearing as I spread the gel over my skin. Once both legs were coated in the stuff, I stood back up and looked at the snake. ‘I’ll be your dinner soon!” I thought, my arousal rising and more wonderful feelings spread over my body. Jerry interrupted my deep thoughts when he started to spread the gel over my back; I was away in my own fantasy world. I then began to apply the gel to my tummy and up over my breasts, whilst Jerry’s hands had drifted south and were playing with my soft, round derriere, his fingers teasing the flesh he found there. His fingers soon slipped between my thighs to find the hidden treasure that lay beneath. What with me rubbing my breasts with the gel and Jerry supposedly rubbing the gel on my vagina, but seemingly more intent of finding my clitoris, I felt my knees give way as a small climax ran over my body. Once we had finished playing with my naked body, and I was suitably coated in the gel, the whole tub had been used on me, which apparently was the instructions Jerry had been given by the lab that created the beast, to properly feed the snake, one tub was enough to feed the snake for a few days, Jerry informed me. “So, the snake has to be fed every couple of days?” I asked. “Yes, that’s what the lab guys told me.” Jerry said. “And I have to feed it?” I asked. “Well yes, how else will it get the gel?” he said to me. “I didn’t think of that.” I replied. “Oh, so I’ll have to do this again in a few days.” “Great isn’t it, you can live out your fantasy as many times as you wish.” Jerry beamed. “I guess I will…” I said. “Okay, are you ready for the snake?” he asked me. “I’m still nervous…” I stammered, “I don’t know if I can do this.” “The snake is hungry and ready to be fed; you’re naked and ready to feed him, what’s wrong?” Jerry asked. “I just feel…” I replied, “I need something…” “What?” he asked. “Could you tie me up, I don’t want to hurt the snake if I thrash around, and I’ll feel more comfortable bound.” I sheepishly said. “Master…” Jerry knowing what that meant, quickly had some rope in his hand, seemingly already prepared for this it seemed. He began tying my ankles, wrapping it around and cinching between my legs, making it tight but not too tight. He did the same around my knees, to hold them together. “Hands!” he ordered. He then tied them too in front of me, the rope ends trailing back down to bind around the knee tie. “Open” he commanded me, I opened my mouth as he pushed in a ball gag, the straps went around the back of my head, now securely bound and gagged, there was nothing to stop my Master from doing what he wanted with me. He then lay me back down on the floor, ready to be the snake’s next meal, trussed and ready. He walked away to the corner of the room and opened the door to the glass enclosure, the snake sensing that the door was open and sniffing the air, finding the aroma of the gel that covered my body to his liking, the snake moved towards the door. I was transfixed watching the snake slide out of the tank, and onto the floor, making its way to where it’s next meal lay, a tasty bundle of bound female flesh covered in goo. Jerry meanwhile had moved back to the rear of the room, he had set up several video cameras to record the action that was about to unfold, that being his wife being eaten in front of him. I didn’t know at the time that he would be recording this for me to watch later. He was also masturbating, his hand stroking his cock as he took in the scene before him. The snake had finally figured out where the smell was coming from, me, its nose sniffing the air around my toes, it tickled as its tongue licked the underside of my feet. I was glad that I was bound; I would have jumped up as soon as the tongue touched me. I had to dig deep to overcome my fear, this was something I had dreamt, masturbated and fantasised of for a long while, and here I was about to experience this in real life. Not long after that the snake had now figured that I was its food, this was a new thing for it as well as me. I lay there watching the snake check out my toes, my hands bound in front of me began to seek out the little nub of pleasure between my legs, gently teasing the little guy in the boat to come out and play. The snake meanwhile, satisfied that it had found its next meal, and that there was no danger that it could sense from its prey, decided to taste the food in its mouth. The snakes mouth took in a couple of my toes, testing the taste and no doubt savouring the delightful meal laying there waiting to be eaten. Happy with what it found, the mouth started to engulf my left foot, it got so far down and then realised that it couldn’t go any further. Moving back up it opened its mouth wider to take in the other foot as well, now it could eat the rest of me. Soon the snake had covered both of my feet with its mouth and began working its way up my legs. I was watching the snake eat my feet, seeing it figure out how to eat them and my finger was eagerly working between my thighs, sending wonderful feelings throughout my entire body. I settled myself back and waited for the snake to continue to swallow me. Jerry was still watching me, his hand still stroking his dick, delighted in what he was seeing in front of him. The snake had now gotten my ankles inside its mouth and began to move up my legs. Each time it moved upwards it seem to push me along the floor, only slightly, and something that maybe we should look at in the future. Maybe I could get Jerry to push me down into the snake’s mouth, the thought sending delightful tingles through me. The snake by now had reached my knees, it seemed to be hungry for me, or maybe it was making sure that I couldn’t get away. The pace quickened up my thighs, but when it got to my hips the poor creature had to slow down, this being my widest point, not that a lady would admit to that. My fingers now began working overtime, I could feel my legs inside of the snake, the tightness as it gripped and pulled them inside, the muscles working to get the prey inside of the creature’s stomach. The snake lifted itself upwards, moving me up off of the floor, this was a shock to both me and Jerry, I didn’t think the creature would have been powerful enough to do that, but it seemed I was wrong. The snake having figured out how to move the larger part of the animal it was eating into its mouth, using the weight of the animal to help slide it further down into the inside of itself. My hips popped inside when the snake lifted itself and me off of the floor, I felt myself slid further down inside the snake, the tight muscles inside the snake began to pull and tighten against my body, making me, the prey slide closer and closer to the snake’s stomach. I hadn’t realised, what with the snake lifting me off of the ground, that my hands, bound as they were to the ropes around my knees had also slipped inside of the snake, they were still playing with my clit, but now they were pressed tightly against my sex. The snake sensing that the obstruction had now been cleared, it decided to press on and devour the rest of its meal. It made short work of my stomach and was soon encountering my breasts, I am not a big breasted woman by any means, but they are a fair size for my height, even flattened as they were with me laying down, this would be the snakes next problem. But again the snake lifted the prey in its mouth into the air, causing me to slip down further inside the beast. Now that part was over I would soon be inside the snake, and on my way down into its belly. The snake, happy now that it had overcome the last obstacle in its meal, was now speeding up devouring the last parts of the animal that was its food. I could see the snakes eyes as they came closer to my head, I had laid still whilst the snake swallowed me, I think the ropes helped too, now I was about to come face to face with the creature of my fantasies. The eyes looked cold and expression-less, I was just food to it, something to be consumed and digested inside it’s belly. Jerry was blown away by the way the snake had figured out how to eat its meal, the way it had lifted not only itself but the prey too, to make it easier to swallow. His hand was now speeding up rubbing his cock, he watched transfixed as his wife was being swallowed, eaten by the snake, and she seemingly accepting her fate and not calling out for him to help. Not that I could, with the gag in place and anyway, now that I was virtually inside the snake what would poor old Jerry do to save me, not that I wanted to be saved at this point. As the snake moved up over my neck and then began covering my face, my fingers brought out the most wonderful orgasm I had experienced in my entire life. Whether it was the tight confines, the way the snake was eating me or the fact the I was living my fantasy at last, but this climax went on and on, especially as the snake covered my head, all I could see now was the inside of its mouth. Soon the mouth closed over the top of my head and I was now fully inside of the snake, and on my way down to its stomach. Jerry watched as the snake finished eating his wife, he saw the look in my eyes as the climax overwhelmed me; I looked at him with the most sexiest eyes he had ever seen, he told me later. He too came as the last part of me was swallowed by the snake, now just a bulge in the snake. Inside the light was now gone, although I could still see, the pink internal walls and muscles of the snake as I travelled down inside the beast. The snake now satisfied that it had swallowed its prey, it lay there contented whilst it used the internal muscles to shift the food down into its waiting stomach. Jerry, now recovered from his own climax, walked over to see where his wife was inside of the snake, he could see a bulge moving down in the snake, every once in a while it would shiver. I was having more orgasms as I moved further down into the snake, the tight muscles of the snake moving me ever closer to my final destination. I could feel Jerry running his hand over the outside of the snake, feeling the bulge that was his wife as she continued moving down in the snake. His hands at one point finding my breasts, he began to play with them, the scales on the outside making it feel different to the soft fleshy globes that he was used to, he later told me. The feeling as he ran his hands over me caused me to go into yet another round of orgasms, they were like a rolling tide, each crashing down through my tightly held body. The snake lay there allowing Jerry to play with it, the soft stroking giving the snake delightful feelings, much like a pet being pampered by its owner I guess. Meanwhile my body had moved into the final chamber that was the snakes stomach, the muscles stopped moving me any further down into the snakes insides, I guessed that I was now in its tummy and it would start digesting its meal – me. The snake now happy with the meal safely stored away in its belly began to move, it headed back towards the enclosure where it came from, this was its home, somewhere where it could safely digest the lovely meal if had just eaten. I felt the snake move with me inside it, the inner walls of the snake constricting as it moved around, making it even tighter for me inside. I squealed as another orgasm crashed through my body, the only signs outside was that the bulge shivered slightly, such was the tight confines I now found myself in. The snake contented now curled up as best it could inside the large crate that was inside the enclosure, this was its home, it would sleep now whilst the prey inside its stomach would be digested, it wouldn’t need to eat again for a few days. Jerry watched as the snake moved back into the enclosure, he didn’t stop it from going inside, why would he, after all that was where the snake was going to live from now on. He closed the door to the glass room and locked it, he didn’t want the snake getting away with its precious cargo in its belly. He watched for a short while as the snake settled and the bulge in its belly, his wife, seemed to stop moving, thinking maybe she was asleep now. He then turned his attention back to the cameras, switching them all off, he retrieved the hard drive with the recordings on it and headed towards the stairs. He took one last look back at the enclosure, the snake now asleep, he switched off the light and headed upstairs. Meanwhile in the snakes belly, I had felt the snake move itself back into the enclosure, making its way inside and then into the crate near the rear of the enclosure, though I didn’t know that until after I watched the video. It then curled itself up as much as it could, and making me bend too inside of the snake. It was a tight fit with me inside of the snake, but the creature felt comfortable in its new home. ...

Dark Version Snake swallowing female This is a darker vore version of my original story, if you’re not into females being eaten, then please read the other one. I just had to write this whilst the story was in my fevered brain - enjoy, note if you’ve read the original and want to skip to the dark part, scroll down to *** Darker part *** Since I was in my early teenage years I have had this fantasy of being taken by a snake, eaten, swallowed down, I frequently masturbated to the images in my mind, of me being swallowed down by the snake as its food, I was nothing more than its food, it’s prey, and many wonderful orgasms were rubbed out by me living this fantasy in my head. One very arousing session with my husband, many years later and I revealed my inner most secret fantasy of being eaten by a snake. But more of that later, I’m Janice and I’m married to the most wonderful guy in the whole world, Jerry, we play out our fantasies together, his is mostly me being a submissive slave girl to his master. I would also tease him in the bedroom, lounge or even in the car, I would have my hands behind my back, with my body nicely present to him in some sexy lingerie or costume. “I have a present for you… Master.” I would say, my eyes looking from him down to the floor, in my best submissive manner. “And what would that present be?” He would ask, thinking that I had something hidden behind me. “ME!!” I would say and jump onto his lap, or the bed and quickly find my way down to his hardening penis, taking it in my mouth and giving him pleasure inside my warm, wet mouth. I’ve even visit him in his office, a coat covering the sexy underwear; I was soon under his desk showing what a good secretary I would be. Luckily he’s the boss, so no one disturbed us whilst I was hard at work. I love playing role playing games; I’m usually the victim, kidnapee, call-girl etc, whilst my husband plays the more dominant role in our games. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love being submissive to him, it turns me on and makes me very horny even thinking about it. I especially love it when he ties me up, gagged and bound and taken by him. We’ve had many enjoyable sessions where I’ve been tied up and used by him. So after one of our sessions, we were speaking about long held fantasies, he told me some of his, mostly having a female victim tied up, used by him and tormented with denied orgasms, until finally she was begging for him to make her cum. Which we’ve done in the past. He also mentioned spanking a bound female as well as another of his deep fantasies, we’ve done that one too I reminded him. “Well, I’ve told you just about all I can recall of my fantasies, what are yours?” he asked me. “I’m tied up and used by my Master, denied orgasm and spanked.” I replied. Laughing. “Yes, that’s my fantasy, but what deep hidden secret do you hold in the pretty little head of yours?” he said. “Well…” I started to say, “no you’d think I was silly or deranged.” Embarrassed I buried my head in his shoulder. “No whatever it is I’d like to know, maybe we could act it out.” He encouraged. “No, it’s not something we could act out.” I relied. “Really, no I want to know what it is.” He smiled, eager to find the hidden gem in my fantasy mind. “It’s not something that most normal people would even think about, sorry but I’m too embarrassed to tell you. You’d think I was crazy or something.” I said, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow me. “I can’t…” “Let me guess then.” He asked. “Okay big boy, try to find out my fantasy.” I teased. “Look, is it having two men taking you, or maybe a woman in a threesome, or just you and the woman.” He beamed. “No, not that, trust you to think of me with another woman.” I said, giving him a gentle smack with my hand on his chest. “Well, I can hope…” he laughed as he replied. “Is it something to do with animals, maybe a donkey or something.” “NO, there’s no donkey!” I said, shocked, but the vision of me entered my head… “No, there’s no sex involved.” Shaking the vision out of my mind. “Well, you’ve got me beat, what is it?” he again asked. “You’re not going to stop until I tell you, are you?” I questioned, hoping that I could get out of this hole I had dug myself into. “Nope!” he smirked, “You’re not going anywhere until you reveal this juicy secret.” “Okay, just don’t think of me as weird or kooky…” I paused, trying to summon up some courage. “I want to be eaten.” “What as in cooked and eaten, on a spit maybe?” he said. “I know where you’ve been looking on the internet!” I said, knowing that he loved looking at some of the darker parts of the web. “No cooking involved.” “Sushi then.” He quickly said, making me feel hungry all of a sudden. “No, not sushi or cooking, it’s a snake.” I whispered the last part. “A snake?” he asked, “why would you want to be eaten by a snake?” “I don’t know, I’ve had this fantasy since I was a teenager, I am gradually swallowed and eaten by this large snake, I’m its prey, just food for the hungry beast.” I said, my head again buried in his shoulder as we both lay there in bed. “You would die.” He said. “Obviously, but I don’t want to die, just the experience of being taken, swallowed is enough to bring out an orgasm in me.” I revealed. “It’s not something I would want to do in real life knowing that once the snake had devoured me I would basically be dead. And I love you too much to leave you like that.” “Yes, I don’t want you to be eaten either, though it would be fun to watch you slowly sliding down into the snake…” he teased. “OH really, you’d love to see me digested in the belly of the snake.” I stated, knowing full well that I would love the once in a lifetime experience too. “But then you’d miss me.” “That’s true.” He said, “until I get my next wife…” “Oh you!” I again hit his shoulder but this time much harder. “Anyway, all this talk of you being devoured by a snake has got my own snake aroused, maybe you could swallow it instead?” he smiled. “Yes, Master.” I teased, and headed under the bed covers to seek out the one-eyed trouser snake hidden below. Now relieved that I had gotten my fantasy out, and was now living out another fantasy of mine as his slave girl. * * * Many months later, the night long forgotten by me, it was the day of my birthday. One of the gifts he had gotten me was a few days away at a health spa with a couple of girlfriends, all paid for by him. We’d had a great time away and I felt refreshed and rejuvenated when I returned that day. But whilst I was away, my devious husband had been planning and getting things ready for my big birthday surprise. “Welcome home darling, I hope that you and the girls had a wonderful time.” He said with a knowing, boyish smile. “Oh yes, we had a great time…” I winked, knowing that he was thinking of me in bed with my girlfriends, his dirty mind working overtime. “Well, while you’ve been away, I have been busy with a special surprise for your birthday.” He teased. “Oh you needn’t have gone to any trouble; you could just tie me up and fuck me.” I suggested. “Well maybe later.” He winked, “But first I need you to put this blindfold on.” “Kinky!” I replied suggestively, “Yes Master…” “Okay, now I will take you to your surprise.” He said, making sure that I couldn’t see. He grabbed my hand and led me through the house. I wondered what he had done for me, what was the big surprise? We then stopped, I heard a door open and he guided me through. “Careful there are steps down.” He said. He helped me down the stairs, I wondered what he’d been up to in the basement of our house. Maybe he’s made a dungeon or something, some bdsm themed fantasy room of his to keep me bound and captive, my arousal building at the thought of that. “Okay, stand here.” He said, moving me to face in one direction. He took off the blindfold to reveal the surprise, I was still lost in the fantasy of some type of dungeon, I opened my eyes to see a very large glass tank in front of me, the seemed to even be a door to one side, and the tank went from the floor to near the ceiling. I looked back at my husband not knowing what it was. “Don’t dungeons have walls, well not made of glass.” I asked. “It’s not a dungeon.” He replied, “though come to think of it that’s a good idea…” he smiled. “What is it then?” I asked. “Have a closer look.” He suggested. I walked a couple of yards for a closer look; there at the back something caught my eye. There was something large, long and brown with specks, and as I looked it moved. “It’s a snake!” I screamed. “You’ve gotten a snake in our basement.” “It’s your birthday gift from me.” He said, “Remember your fantasy?” “You’re going to feed me to the snake?” I stood there transfixed by the vision of the snake. “I wanted you to live your fantasy.” He said with a smile of his face, “While I watch…” “But I don’t want to die!” I said, “If I’m eaten…” “I don’t want you to die either, silly.” He said, “But I do want to please you. You mean everything to me.” “But seeing me eaten, slowly digested…” I replied, still staring at the snake. “Stop, you’re turning me on!” he laughed. “Me being food for the snake is a turn on for you?” I replied. “Yes, why not, a very sexy women slowly sliding down the throat of the snake, I can see the attraction in that.” He again laughed. “But…” I was too stunned for words. “Sorry darling, but you’re now just nothing more than snake food, better get undressed and ready for you fantasy.” He said, a teasing smile on his face. I still could not take my eyes off of the snake, it had started moving, and maybe it was sensing me as its next meal. I was too stunned at this moment and absent mindedly started to take off my clothes, leaving them in a pile around my ankles. My husband just stood and watched me strip off, getting myself ready for my encounter with the snake. As soon as I was naked he again spoke. “Well seems like you’re ready there, all naked and ready to feed the snake, just like in your fantasy.” He said. “But, I haven’t told you everything.” “Whhatt… “ I said, still distracted. “The snake isn’t a real snake.” He said. “It’s a genetically modified version of a snake.” “Sorry, a what?” I asked. “I had the snake made for you, it is a genetically altered version of a snake, grown in a laboratory, so it’s not a real snake in a sense.” He said. “Not a real snake, it certainly looks like one.” I said looking from him and back to the snake. “Yes, in way it looks like any other snake, but this one is modified not to devour its prey.” He said. “Not devour, then how does it eat?” I asked, stunned at what modern science can come up with these days. “It’s this.” He said holding up a tub in his hand. “A modified protein gel, that the snake absorbs inside its stomach.” “Poor thing, how do we feed it the paste.” I asked. “Gel, we spread it all over something that it swallows.” He said looking at my naked body. “You mean me?” I asked. “Well yes, it’s your fantasy to be eaten by a snake, this way you get to experience it and not be digested.” He replied. “So my body is coated with the paste, sorry gel, and then the snake eats me.” I questioned him. “Yes.” He said. “But I’m still snake food, I’m swallowed by the snake, I’m covered in its food, what happens to me then ?” I queried. “Once I’m swallowed I’ll die.” “No, I would never allow that to happen to you. Yes the snake will swallow you, but then as you enter it’s stomach the snake will digest the gel, its real food, and then once done it will regurgitate the left over waste, or uneaten food – you, back out through its mouth.” He said with a smile. “So let me get this straight, I’m covered in the goo, the snake then swallows me, I end up in his stomach and it digests the goo off of me, won’t the stomach acids burn me as well?” I asked. “No, there are no acids in the snakes stomach otherwise you would, the snake uses an enzyme to digest the gel, leaving you with no harm.” He told me. “But what about breathing?” I asked. “You will be able to breath, the enzymes in the snake when they absorb the protein gel give off oxygen, but also the snake’s skin is slightly porous, you will be able to take enough air in through the snake’s skin. Like if you were under a couple of blankets, so I’ve been informed.” He told me. “So, I live through the whole thing then?” I said in reply. “You sound disappointed, did you expect to die inside the belly of the snake?” he looked shocked as he said that. ”Oh no… sorry, just lost in my fantasy..” I laughed. “I can get you a real snake if you wish, but you only get to try it once.” He said to me. “No, I’m not wanting a real snake…” I said, my mind still lost in my fantasy. “No, I want to be with you for a long while to come.” “Well do you want to try out your fantasy?” he asked me. “I’m still nervous, it’s all seems so real…” I stuttered, “but you’ve gone to so much trouble for me. Thank you.” I turned around and pressed my naked body up against his, my breast mashing against his chest as I kissed him deeply. I could feel his member getting stiffer against my thigh, “There’s just something I want to take care of first…” I smiled as I dropped down on my knees, eagerly seeking out his growing cock; my mouth was soon around it, teasing and sucking until he came. “Okay, are you ready?” Jerry asked me. “Yes, Master…” I said, looking back up at him from my submissive position on my knees, looking like the cat that had gotten the cream, which I had and swallowed too. “You need to rub this gel over your skin, I help you where you can’t reach.” He said, handing me the pot. Opening it, it smelled yeasty, not unpleasant but it did have a strong odour. I reached in with my finger, the cold gel gathered up in my hand, a slimy paste, it gave me thoughts of Jerry’s cum, sending a wonderful tingle throughout my body. I was turned on by submitting to him and blowing him off, but I hadn’t climaxed, I just wanted to please him and gain pleasure from that. I began rubbing the gel over my legs, the slimy goo seemed to cling onto my flesh and give it a sheen, my skin tingling as the gel covered it. Once both legs were coated in the stuff, I stood back up and looked at the snake. ‘I’ll be your dinner soon!” I thought, my arousal rising and more wonderful feeling s spread over my body. Jerry interrupted my deep thoughts when he started to spread the gel over my back, I was away in my own world. I then began to apply the gel to my tummy and up over my breasts, whilst Jerry’s hands had drifted south and were playing with my soft, round derriere, his fingers teasing the flesh he found there. His fingers soon slipped between my thighs to find the hidden treasure that lay beneath. What with me rubbing my breasts with the gel and Jerry supposedly rubbing the gel on my vagina, but seemingly more intent of finding my clitoris, I felt my knees give way as a small climax ran over my body. Once we had finished laying with my naked body, and I was suitably coated in the gel, the whole tub had been used on me, which apparently was the instructions Jerry had been given to properly feed the snake, one tub was enough to feed the snake for a few days, Jerry informed me. “So, the snake has to be fed every couple of days?” I asked. “Yes, that’s what the lab guys told me.” Jerry said. “And I have to feed it?” I asked. “Well yes, how else will it get the gel?” he said to me. “I didn’t think of that.” I replied. “Oh, so I’ll have to do this again in a few days.” “Great isn’t it, you can live out your fantasy as many times as you wish.” Jerry beamed. “I guess I will…” I said. “Okay, are you ready for the snake?” he asked me. “I’m still nervous…” I stammered, “I don’t know if I can do this.” “The snake is ready to be fed, you’re ready to feed him, what’s wrong?” Jerry asked. “I just feel…” I replied, “I need something…” “What?” he asked. “Could you tie me up, I don’t want to hurt the snake if I thrash around, and I’ll feel more comfortable bound.” I sheepishly said. “Master…” Jerry knowing what that meant, quickly had some rope in his hand, seemingly already prepared for this it seemed. He began tying my ankles, wrapping around and cinching between my legs, making it tight but not too tight. The same around my knees, to hold them together. “Hands!” he ordered. He then tied then too in front of me, the rope ends trailing back down to bind around the knee tie. “Open” he commanded me, I opened my mouth as he pushed in a ball gag, the straps went around the back of my head, now securely bound and gagged, there was nothing to stop my Master from doing what he wanted with me. He then lay me back down on the floor, ready to be the snake’s next meal, trussed and ready. He walked away to the corner of the room and opened the door to the glass tank, the snake sensing that the door was open and sniffing the air, finding the aroma of the gel that covered my body to his liking, he moved towards the door. I was transfixed watching the snake slid out of the tank, and onto the floor, making its way to where it’s next meal lay, a tasty bundle of female flesh covered in goo. The snake had finally figured out where the smell was coming from, me, its nose sniffing the air around my toes, it tickled as its tongue licked the underside of my feet. I was glad that I was bound, I would have jumped up as soon as the tongue touched me. I had to dig deep to overcome my fear, this was something I had dreamt, masturbated and dreamed of for a long while, and here I was about to experience this in real life. Not long after the snake now figured that I was its food, this was new for it as well as me, I lay there watching the snake check out my toes, my hands bound in front of me began to seek out the little nub of pleasure between my legs, gently teasing the little guy in the boat to come out and play. The snake meanwhile, satisfied that it had found its next meal, and that there was no danger that it could sense from its prey, decided to taste the food in its mouth. The snakes mouth took in a couple of my toes, testing the taste and no doubt savouring the delightful meal laying there waiting to be eaten. Happy with what it, the mouth started to engulf my left foot, it got so far down and then realised that it couldn’t go any further. Moving back up it opened its mouth wider to take in the other foot as well, now it could eat the rest of me. Soon the snake had covered my feet with its mouth and began working its way up my legs. I was watching the snake eat my feet, seeing it figure out how to eat them and my finger was eagerly working between my thighs, sending wonderful feelings throughout my entire body. I settled myself back and waited for the snake to continue to swallow me. Jerry was watching me; his hand was stroking his dick, delighted in what he was seeing in front of him. The snake had now gotten my ankles inside its mouth and began to move up my legs. Each time it moved upwards it seem to push me along the floor, only slightly, and something that maybe we should look at in the future. Maybe I could get Jerry to push me down into the snake’s mouth, the thought sending delightful tingles through me. The snake had now reached my knees, it seemed to be hungry for me, or maybe it was making sure that I couldn’t get away. The pace quickened up my thighs, but when it got to my hips the poor creature had to slow down, this being my widest point, not that a lady would admit to that. My fingers now began working overtime, I could feel my legs inside of the snake, the tightness as it gripped and pulled them inside, the muscles working to get the prey inside the creature’s stomach. The snake lifted itself upwards, moving me up off of the floor, this was a shock to both me and Jerry, didn’t think the creature would have been powerful enough to do that, but it seemed I was wrong. The snake having figured out how to move the larger part of the animal it was eating into its mouth, using the weight of the animal to help slide it further down into the inside of itself. My hips popped inside when the snake lifted itself and me off of the floor, I felt myself slid further down inside the snake, the tight muscles inside the snake began to pull and tighten against my body, making the prey slid closer to the snake’s stomach. I hadn’t realised, what with the snake lifting me off of the ground, that my hands, bound as they were to the ropes around my knees had also slipped inside of the snake, they were still playing with my clit, but now they were pressed tightly against my sex. The snake sensing that the obstruction had now been cleared, it decided to press on and devour the rest of its meal. It made short work of my stomach and was soon encountering my breasts, I am not a big breasted woman by any means, but they are a fair size for my height, even flattened as they were with me laying down, this would be the snakes next problem. But again the snake lifted the prey in its mouth into the air, causing me to slip down further inside the beast. Now that part was over I would soon be inside the snake, on my way down into its belly. The snake happy now that it had overcome the last obstacle in its meal, was now speeding up devouring the last parts of the animal, that was its food. I could see the snakes eyes as they came closer to my head, I had laid still whilst the snake swallowed me, I think the ropes helped too, now I was about to come face to face with the creature of my fantasies. Jerry was blown away by the way the snake had figured out how to eat its meal, the way it had lifted not only itself but the prey too, to make it easier to swallow. His hand was now speeding up rubbing his cock, he watched transfixed as his wife was being eaten by the snake, she seemingly accepting her fate and not calling out for him to help. Not that I could, with the gag in place and anyway, now that I was virtually inside the snake what would poor old Jerry do to save me, not that I wanted to be saved at this point. *** Darker part *** It was at this moment that I was distracted by the footsteps of a pair of heels walking into the room, I watched as the legs came more into the light and saw my younger sister Louise, standing there, looking at me. Then my husband Jerry walked over to her and they kissed, I was shocked, it wasn’t a platonic kiss on the check, but a full blown, smouldering passionate kiss on the mouth. His hands reached around her waist and pulled her closer to him, whilst she placed her arms around Jerry’s neck and pulled him into the kiss. “So dear sister, you’ve finally got to live out your fantasy. Jerry told me all about it, so we planned this little surprise for you.” She stated. I lay there in the snake’s mouth and mummpphed through the gag at her. “What’s that dear sister? You’re enjoying your fantasy of being eaten?” she smiled, in her cocky manner that she always had when she spoke down to me. “Or is the fact that me and Jerry have been having an affair behind your back, without your knowledge, for a few months now.” She sounded very cold when she said that, she has always been spiteful towards me, and resented the fact that I was married to Jerry, mostly because he was wealthy, from an old moneyed family and owned his own company. She was always attracted to those types of men, rich, what’s the term I would use about her habits of going out with older, affluent, married men, well the word ‘gold-digger’ comes to mind. “Well it seems that the snake has most of your body well and truly swallowed now, with only your head left, though the poor thing seemed to struggle with the wider parts of you, I was watching on the screen upstairs. Oh yes, we’re recording this for posterity and our amusement later on. See the cameras are all around.” She stated as she pointed out the cameras. “Mummph!” I tried to say bitch, but the gag muted my words. Louise turned to Jerry, “Oh my, this is making me so horny, watching my big sister being devoured by the nasty snake, I need something…” And she reached down to his crotch, his penis was already hard from masturbating whilst watching me, soon she dropped to her knees and took his hard member in her mouth. I was astounded that she was doing this in front of me, and that Jerry was encouraging her by running his hands over her hair, and pushing her head to take more of him in. All I could do was watch the scene unfold before my eyes, the snake meanwhile had stopped swallowing, and the effort of eating such a large meal must be taking a toll on the poor creature. Louise meanwhile stopped what she was doing with my husband’s cock; she turned to look at me with an evil grin, one where she knows that she has won over me, taken something away from me for her own ends. Her hand still playing with his penis, as she tormented me, like she has done since we were teenagers. And then she dropped the bombshell. “Jerry lied.” Was all she said. “Mmph?” I tried to question, a frown on my forehead. “You’d better tell her Jerry.” She said as she teased his cock with her hand, never letting go of it. “Urgh… “ Jerry tried to engage his other higher brain when he heard his name, the other was now back in Louise’s mouth. “Sorry Janice, but Lou’s right. There’s no genetically modified snake, never has been, who’d believe that story anyway, when I suggested that, Lou said that you’d be gullible enough to believe it, seems she was right.” “MMMpphhh!!” I tried to struggle, the snake feeling the movement tightened up its muscles, holding me even tighter than before. Tears began to form in my eyes. Louise took his penis from her mouth, “That’s right stupid, who would think something like that, oh that’s right - my dumb sister! That’s a real snake dummy, and you’re being eaten!” “Muugrhh!!” I tried to curse at her. “And the best thing is you consented to it, you even asked to be tied and gagged, I couldn’t believe that when I heard it. The video will show the whole thing. Hey, maybe we’ll post it online and make some money off of it.” Louise ridiculed me as she said those words. “Maybe if we make enough, we could have more gullible victims like you!” “Sorry Janice, but this is the end for us, and you.” Jerry said, “Though I’m sure that your sister will take care of my needs for the foreseeable future.” The snake meanwhile had recovered enough to continue swallowing down its meal, the muscles inside began to pulse and ripple against my body, and I started moving further inside of the snake. The snakes’ nose was now brushing up against my jaw, the gag holding my mouth open wide slowed it down a little, but I knew that it would easily overcome that obstacle after swallowing my hips and breasts. I could also feel a tingling sensation on my skin, this I thought would be the digestive juices starting to work on my flesh. Louise meanwhile, had decided to get my husband to fuck her in front of me, so horny was she at watching me being eaten that she just had to have Jerry inside her, and add the final insult. They both lay on the floor where I had direct sight of the two of them, I couldn’t avert my eyes. Jerry was soon inside her, pumping away like a demented demon. Louise meanwhile, just watched me and looked into my eyes, the look was pure evil, and her hands moved over Jerry’s bum and encouraged him to push himself deeper into her. The snake had now moved on from my neck, it had overcome the gag and was now closing over my nose. I looked up and could see the inside of the snake’s mouth; the fangs pushed back, no need for them with this prey. My body was moved down deeper into the snake now, this was the last part for the snake, the meal now safely inside of it, soon it would be able to rest whilst the food was dissolved inside its stomach. I cried out as the mouth closed over my eyes and was now over the top of my head, I could not move, escape was impossible and the last sight I saw of the outside world was my sister’s evil smile, as my now former husband banged her on the floor, she’d won over me, the final victory in our long running battle. Louise watched as her sister disappeared inside of the snake, Jerry was too engrossed in his sexual frenzy to see the last sight of his wife disappearing into the snake. She came as the last part of my head was engulfed by the snake, all that was now left of me outside was my hair, and soon that went inside the snake too. As the snake moved up over my head and covered my face, I figured that this would be the last chance to experience my fantasy; I had been strangely turned on by the truth of the situation, and then watching Jerry bang my sister. I know it seems perverse, but my fingers brought out the most wonderful orgasm I had experienced in my entire life. Whether it was the tight confines, the way the snake was eating me, the lack of oxygen or the fact the I was living my fantasy at last, but this climax went on and on, especially as I was now fully inside of the snake, and on my way down to its stomach. Jerry climaxed into Louise just as the snake finished eating his wife, he never saw the look in my eyes as the snake finally overwhelmed me; Louise had enjoyed not only the orgasm that he had given her, but also watching me being swallowed by the snake. She had seen the look of fear be replaced by lust, acceptance and the final orgasm of my life. Inside the light was now gone, the pink internal walls and muscles of the snake moving my body as I travelled down inside the beast. The snake now satisfied that it had swallowed its prey, it lay there contented whilst it shifted the food down into its stomach. Jerry, now recovered from his own climax, walked over to see where his wife was inside of the snake, he could see a bulge moving down in the snake, every once in a while it would shiver. Louise joined him in running her hands over the snakes skin, feeling for her sister, now snake food, moving inside the creature. I was having my last ever orgasm as I moved further down into the snake, the tight muscles of the snake moving me ever closer to my final destination. I could feel them running their hands over the outside of the snake, feeling the bulge that was once his wife and her sister. The snake lay there allowing them both to play with it, the soft stroking giving the snake delightful feelings, much like a pet being pampered by its owner I guess. Meanwhile my body had moved into the final chamber that was the snakes stomach, the muscles stopped moving me any further down in the snakes insides, I guessed that I was now in its tummy and it would start digesting its meal – me. The snake now happy with the meal safely stored away in its belly began to move, it headed back towards the tank where it had came from, this was its home, somewhere where it could safely digest the lovely meal if had just eaten. The final feelings I had before my last breath was the snake move with me inside it, the wall constricting as it moved around, making it tighter for me inside. My skin now starting to burn, luckily I could no longer feel any pain. The snake contented now curled up as best it could inside the tank, it would sleep now whilst the prey inside its stomach would be digested, it wouldn’t need to eat again for several days. Jerry watched as the snake moved back into the tank, he didn’t stop it from going inside, why would he, after all that was where the snake was going to live from now on, his wife now just snake food, no longer part of his life. He closed the door to the tank and locked it, he didn’t want the snake getting away with its precious cargo in its belly. They both watched for a short while as the snake settled and the bulge in its belly seemed to have stopped moving now. He then turned his attention back to the cameras, switching them all off, he retrieved the hard drive with the recordings on it and they both headed towards the stairs. He took one last look back at the tank, the snake now asleep, he switched off the light and headed upstairs with Louise. She took his hand and led him up to the bedroom, after what she had just witnessed she needed to work off her pent up sexual energy. Meanwhile, with its meal safely now in the snakes’ belly, the beast moved itself to the back of the tank where it felt comfortable and then curl itself up, making my body bend with it inside of the snake. The long, slow digestion process had begun, my body now just nutrients for the snake.

(story continues from Undercover 2) Part Three Joey woke feeling more rested and refreshed than he could remember ever feeling before. For a moment, he simply basked in the warmth from the body pressed against his. Then, with one hand, he reached up and softly squeezed one firm breast, his touch drawing a soft murmur from the head on the pillow in front of him. “Morning,” he said softly. “Morning?” Raising her head, Esmerelda turned and looked back over her shoulder. “Impossible,” she whispered. “I saw the sun coming up before we fell asleep.” ...

It took me a few minutes to notice something wasn’t quite right. I was slowly coming awake after what felt like an excellent night’s sleep. I stretched and yawned, and I as yawned, I brought my hand up to cover my mouth, just like the polite girl I was brought to be, so the furry paw that was covering my hand was something of a surprise. Then I noticed I was naked under the covers and not wearing my usual PJs. I sat up and brought both hands in front of me, both now encased in furry mits that looked like cats paws and more importantly did not have fingers in. ...

(story continues from The Friend 2) Part 3: In the Hands of Heather Heather has hold of the end of my leash and she is leading to along as naturally as if she had a dog to heel. The leash is part heavy chain and is the most subtly evil leash I have ever had a pleasure to wear. My girlfriend has leashed me many times over the years as part of our kinky games, both to a collar and to a wickedly constructed body harness she found online at some website I never manged to locate. But this one is evil beyond belief. As to what Heather had done with my girlfriend I could only guess. We had both been passed into slavery by her friend and who knew what future we had before us out here in this countryside retreat. ...

You have been to the fitness club twice now and the first few times are always the hardest. “It would be really nice if I could keep this up for a few months”, you contemplate after the latest workout. “Well, I’ll help if I can. Tell you what, every time you work out I’ll reward you with sex afterwards.” “What!? How is that a reward!? You’re the one getting some.” ...

I made a big mistake, a BIG mistake. I thought it would be over quicker and so it would be easier. Wrong. How hard could it be? Oh my God! I had eight more days and after one day, actually 8 hours, I thought I was going to die. Let me explain… In 2033 the crime rate was sky high. The prisons were overflowing. So a law was passed that gave convicted criminals a choice, do much longer time than in the past or do much shorter time in a correctional facility where you would be punished during your sentence. The punishment was in keeping with your crime. For example, my crime was perjury; I was to be punished for speaking falsely so I was to be punished by being gagged. You don’t even want to know the punishment for prostitution, holy shit. Anyway I chose the punishment facility; I figured how hard could a gag be? This is my story of my first day. ...

Sunday Morning. I love Sunday mornings. This one is a lovely sunny still day. It’s the sounds of it. The warmth of it too! The sun is beaming in through the upper bedroom windows warming the house. I know its doing the same through our patio windows as I can feel the warm air rising up the staircase. Outside I can hear my husband cutting the grass with our old petrol mower, just as he has for the last ten years of our marriage its muted roar echoing around the buildings the tone changing with his change of direction. ...

(story continues from G Man At The Kennel 3) Part Four “Package received.” Tonya reading the simple cryptic text message with a smirk as her friend Mrs. G man looked on oblivious to the significance of the text. “Everything okay?” Mrs. G man asked over the bumping din of the club’s over loud sound system, her pretty face flushed and glowing after a dance with a particularly energetic dance partner ten years her junior who had brazenly bought her first drink for the privilege. ...

Author’s Note: This story sprung from a story by another author here on the Plaza. Many stories from this author can be found in the Doll Stories section and elsewhere under the name “SparkyMira”. The story “A Prank Gone Awry” was fascinating and my thoughts on how I would handle the same situation led to this story. Permisson was kindly extended to work from the same premise for which I am grateful. If you like this story you will doubtless also like the works of SparkyMira as well. I certainly do! Summary: A young college woman with a dolly fetish pretends to be a high-end sex bot at a sex-bot store for a day. If she’s caught she goes to jail and her life is ruined. Can she play the sexbot and handle all that is required of her until closing? ...

Josh looked at the help wanted ad again: Seeking testing assistants. No experience needed, we’ll train. Uniforms, meals and housing provided. Minimum 1 year commitment. Apply in person at 4611 Industrial Way, New Ironton. Then he looked at the stack of unpaid bills. And the eviction notice on top of them, with a sigh. His life had gone to hell since he got fired from his job at the supermarket, but it wasn’t all that great to start with. At least his car still ran. New Ironton was an hour’s drive away, but he figured that it was worth a try. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Walter settles into a routine as Mistress Gloria’s submissive Walter’s story continues. In this chapter, he tells of how Mistress Gloria punished him and holly for screwing around and not paying attention to their work. He also talks about a contest between the slaves which results in one of them being reduced to a bald, submissive, sex slave– the lowest you can be. ...

Hi, everyone! I know it’s been a long time since I last wrote anything, but a lot has gone on in my life in the last few years. But no matter what happens, know I’m still crazy into bondage! So, without further ado, let’s get to why we’re all here! I give Gromet permission to provide my email address here, “linnndsay” (with 3 n’s) at hotmail dot com. No direct link, please, I don’t want any more spambots to find me than necessary. ...

I was walking along the dirt track in my thin cheap flip flops, wearing a short skirt that covered my chastity belt, that locked a butt-plug into my ass and rigid dildo in my pussy. Under the thin t-shirt top I wore my metal chastity bra completely covering my pert breasts. The only thing that was seen and that was a bit out of the ordinary was my stainless steel collar that fit tightly around my neck and that had a d-ring at its front. The keys to my chastity devices were at home in an envelope on my dinner table with a letter explaining were I had gone, including the GPS coordinates, and what I would do when I got there. ...

Woman to Sexdoll TF Natasha was a lot of things. Beautiful, smart, and fun are just a few of the traits she claims for herself when asked. But she knew she wasn’t as talented as other people. Here she was, a recent college graduate with a degree in programming and yet she was working a boring desk job instead of something exciting. Her name was Natasha Brown, a 5’5 woman at the age of 23. Short black hair sat atop her head and framed her pale face and green eyes perfectly. She always dressed in business casual with tighter tops to accentuate her large B-cup breasts more. Her hips and backside draw enough attention as is so she doesn’t tend to worry about showing off in that regard. She was tempted to just give up and go work for some random small time company until one day she received an email. “Dear Miss Brown, We here at the Shadytree Toy Company love what you could potentially bring to our company. We wish to offer you a full-time position with our team as the lead machine operator and programmer. If you accept our offer you can start one week from today at the factory in South San Francisco. Hope to see you there, Darryl Shadytree.” After reading the email she was over the moon. Finally, an opportunity to show what she could do and make a profession out of what she loves. She immediately packed up her things and handed in a rather rushed resignation letter. She wasn’t concerned with that though, she was ready to get home and prep for her new job. The week passed quickly and she could not be more excited to arrive at her new workplace. She hopped in her car wearing her usual attire and drove to the company. Upon arrival, she parked her car outside of a rather large building that had both an office section and what appeared to be a large factory. Grabbing her purse, she walked into the large double doors and came face-to-face with a gorgeous blonde-haired woman in a tight black business dress. “Um… hello ma’am. I am here for my first day on the job,” she said a little timidly pushing some hair behind her ear. The woman looked up and smiled at her. “Oh! You must be Natasha! My name is Kennedy and if you are ready to start I can show you to your office and then give you a tour!” the voluptuous blonde said happily as she bounced up and down and grabbed Natasha’s arm. She gave her a quiet “…yes” before she yanked her down the hall to a rather neat office space nearest the back of the office portion in the building. Quickly she opened the door and gave her the rundown of the room. After placing her bag on the desk, the secretary dragged her through a large metal door and into a large open floored factory. “Now I am sure you read the spreadsheet with all of the data on the machines we use here right?” she asked pointing around at the large machines that were starting to run for the first time that day. “Of course, I would be an awful worker if I didn’t study my craft before I started working on them.” Natasha said proudly. She smiled at her kindly. “That is a great start sweetie, but do you know what we make here?” Natasha just raised an eyebrow at the woman and nodded. “Of course, it was all in the name. I assume you make children’s toys and other things in that vein of business.” A beautiful, melodic laugh carried up to Natasha’s ears. Kennedy was laughing with a huge grin on her face. It took a moment but she composed herself and dragged her over to one of the now moving conveyor belts. “Oh honey. You are in for a shock. No we don’t make children’s toys… we make adult toys,” she said with a smirk as she reached down and pulled a large dildo off of the belt and held it out towards her. She dropped it into Natasha’s hands and giggled. Natasha at this point was blushing a raging red and had her jaw on the floor. Kennedy just kept laughing and led the blushing girl through the remainder of the factory. She showed her all of the machines that made things like dildos and anal beads. Laughing all the way as the new worker realized what she had signed up for. When Kennedy finally stopped near the front of the building, Natasha spoke up. “So is that it? I may not have known it was a sex shop, but that doesn’t change the fact I want to work here.” The buxom blonde shook her head. “I am glad you are taking this so well. However, there is still one more stop and this one will make or break your future here.” She said rather ominously as she stepped into the viewing area, expecting the black-haired girl to follow. After a brief moment of hesitation, she did so. Once inside her jaw hung loosely once more as she saw a machine moving multiple women down a belt and doing many things such as painting and penetrating them. She saw women of all races with open mouths being pounded by metal phalluses or metal arms squeezing their breasts in sequence. “This is our signature line of realistic sex dolls. Our company has been the leader in this department for over seven years and this plant alone ships dolls all over the world. This is our biggest money maker.” Kennedy said before pulling an African-American doll off the finished line and holding it to her. “Welcome to your new job Nat! I hope it becomes more fun than awkward for you over time!” Three months later and her assumption was correct. After getting past the initial awkwardness of working for the rough equivalent of a sex shop, Nat really began to enjoy herself. The machines were fun to learn about and work on. They were very complex and had so many intricate parts that the graduate just loved studying. Just three months in and she was already an expert on most of the things in the factory, and she was starting to experiment. At first it was unimportant things. A dildo made of different material here, or a doll that wouldn’t move out of doggy style there. Nothing serious that she would get in trouble for. But now she was again grasping at straws for something fun to play with. With her shift for the day done, she went home and dedicated the evening to research for ideas. It didn’t take her long to find some inspiration. She spent the entire afternoon browsing some very suggestive websites and reading stories of all sorts. Who knew so many people online were interested in becoming love dolls? Well she guessed there was a fetish for everything, but this one was more common then she thought it would be. After reading until the evening she couldn’t help but be excited. What better way to show her mastery of the doll machine then by making herself into one? There was no other option for the ambitious mechanic now, her mind was set. With a quick message to her boss she told him she would be working on an upgrade for the machine over the next few days so she would not be in. ...

story continued from part two Part Three She has no idea how long she slumped there in the hallway. Given enough time, the nanites would have completely shut down and she would have been freed. However, Cleaning Bot #17 recognized the problem and ordered a recharging unit to the condo before this could happen. A recharging unit is a small bot, about the size and shape of a car battery. It has a small set of treads on the bottom and two leads on the top with extending wires and connections. ...

I wasn’t supposed to get in this deep, and certainly not this fast. I was supposed to get acquainted, get to know them, get to work with them, but it’s all about improvising. You get an opening, you take it. He came on to me, hard. I was worried about poisoning the well if I said no, so I said yes. It was a way in at any rate. But then.. It wasn’t even that bad. I expected to have to fake interest a lot more than I did. We actually had chemistry. So when he first took me back to his place, it was so routine, so natural. I didn’t even think about how sleeping with him might jeopardize the case down the line until hours later. If he wern’t in this family, if he wern’t in this line of work, he’s the kind of person that I could tie myself to. He gets me, or at least the me I’m showing him, which is frankly just me without some of the badge-inspired uprightness. I was expecting the son of a mob boss who went to the gym every day to not be so sharp, quick or funny. He wasn’t smooth like a pickup artist, he simply pressed and had a quick line to reply to whatever reaction he go. So that first time I went up to his place, that was all autopilot. What made me decide to return, aside from not wanting to end this particular identity that took weeks to establish, well that was the result of what happened that first night. ...

True story with bondage, first submission to another woman, some bdsm, consensual Not too long ago at a ladies night party in Ybor City (Tampa) I met Dottie. She was with another woman (Sandy) and I was sitting at the bar next to them. After my drink was served (water with lemon) Dottie turned to me and asked if I always drank the hard stuff. Laughing, I told her I would have asked for it “neat” but I was driving. ...

Jim’s room had no windows. It was a small room with naked walls, and a cold, hard floor. Jim had been awake for a while now, though he could never be certain how long it had really been. The only light emanated from the small gap under the only door and to Jim’s eyes, it was bright, almost blinding. It made him very nearly certain that it was daytime already. ...

story continued from chapter seven Chapter 8: Hazardous Plants and Extracts Naked, gagged, hooded, and tied spread-eagle, I tugged ferociously at my bonds. It had probably been 20 minutes since Brandy had left and I was still nowhere closer to freedom. The pillow had slid out from under my head, giving me a clearer view of the restraints that bound me. After having studied dozens of types of knots the night prior, I could see that Brandy had used a variation of what looked like a “bowline on a bight” knot to restrain each of my limbs to the corners of the bed. This meant that the only knot was bud-up against the bed’s poster. And since this was a king-sized bed, and I was positioned squarely in the middle, that made the knot over a foot out of my reach. I had managed to shift my body a few inches toward my dominant hand, but I was still well out of reach. I shouted in rage as I thrashed about in tantrum. I hated this! Brandy could return any second! ...

Laura began to talk me into it when she first heard that a Joy Mart franchise was openning in our city. ‘Tim, it will be fun! I know that you’ve always had that fantasy… I’m ready to be your giantess…’ Laura could always have her way with me. I was memerized by her sexy good looks. She is a tall slender woman with a turned-up nose and gorgeous red hair. She dressed in a funky, sexy style and had moments of sexual wildness. Laura is an adventurous woman, but her proposal scared me at first. Joy Mart was a franchise of stores that catered to giantess fantasies. With the new shrinking technologies it became possible to shrink people to any size imaginable. It was soon discovered that a large percentage of people were interested in exploring these fantasies. ...

My girlfriend of several years and I have always enjoyed an active and varied sex life; as well as “vanilla” sex, she indulges my passion for spandex and bondage every now and then, and we switch between dominant and submissive roles fairly freely. On a whim, when I was in town I spotted an adult store that had opened recently, and dropped in to have a look. Most of our bondage gear came from online shopping or Anne Summers, so I’d never been into a “real” sex shop before, and to be honest I was a little curious. I looked around at the various vibrators, restraints and costumes, but nothing was really catching my eye. ...

Up high on the topmost balcony, Tadao has a great view of the impressive skyline. His hands drum on the railing and he enjoys the cool night air. The glass doors slide open silently. ‘Thank you for walking me home,’ Kimiko says and comes closer. She has changed into a flowery, silken dressing gown and walks up behind Tadao. A lovely sight. Tadao marvels at her slim, petite body and perfect posture. The dark hair is done up artfully, held in place by a bright, colourful ribbon in the shape of a butterfly. ...

My ex college boyfriend Brad was going to be in town for a few days for business so I suggested he stay in my guest room rather than an Airbnb like he had planned. It would save him some money and we could catch up a little since the last time we were face to face. Our breakup had been amicable and mutual as following graduation jobs took us to different cities in different states. We tried the long distance thing but it just did not work out so we just maintained our friendship on social media. His flight was due to put him at my house somewhere after 5 P.M. at the earliest if everything went perfect for him and I told him there would be a surprise waiting on him when he got here. It was rather flirtatious of me as I meant his favorite comfort food, pizza and beer, but I could not help myself with a little tease. I gave him my guest code for the community gate and electronic lock to my front door so that he could just let himself in during his stay and gave security his name and description. I knew he had a new girlfriend and I told myself to keep my flirting down to a minimum and absolutely no sexual activity. To help curb my libido I decided on a bit of self bondage before he arrived and a cam show. ...

“An Out-Of-Body Bondage Experience” is about masks, shiny rubber, and some curious gear! :) Ashley had never been to space. She’d never given it much thought. Why would she have ever needed to dedicate her valuable brainpower to such a thing? Sure, she’d seen movies and television in which characters went to space. Scenes outside of Earth’s atmosphere. Cheesy kids shows seemed to always send their protagonists to space. She understood that it was not just plausible, but that it had happened and there was a slim but non-zero chance that she would leave Earth at one point or another. But really, what was the point? It was so remote, so removed that she’d never given it more than the occasional passing thought. A joke with a friend while watching Gravity was a far cry from astronaut training. It wasn’t even in the back of her mind. The thought simply wasn’t there. ...

Chapter 1: Then - First Things She had seen him around the office, but he didn’t work in her department. This was a good thing, since office entanglements were not encouraged by senior management. Entanglement, she thought, I am getting ahead of myself. The man under observation worked on a new team, part of an expansion the senior management had recently initiated. The upside of this new team was that Anna saw a number of new faces frequently enough to establish rapport with some of them. ...

story continues from part one Part 2: A Change of Plans. The sun had been up for nearly an hour when Toni neared home. She knew already that this would not be the safe house she had intended. A news program on the radio was talking about a police raid on a house and that the FBI was on the scene. “It’s horrifying that something like this should be happening here in our town”, the female news reporter said. “Several young women kidnapped and sold as sex slaves, and the home base is suspected to be this house in one of our most affluent neighbourhoods”. ...

Woman to Rubber/Bondage TF When working in a factory that specializes in molding large amounts of rubber into different objects you learn to be careful. In my time working here, which is about 2 years, nothing has happened but I knew how dangerous these automated machines could be. My name is Lynda Caves. I am 25 years old and would call myself a fairly average girl. I have shoulder length dark brown hair, a decently curved body with a matching plump butt and moderate c-cup breasts. This had been my dream job after graduating from college with my degree in mechanical engineering. I was being paid a small fortune to maintain and create new machines that the company used to better itself. It was perfect. I came to work on a Friday to run basic checkups on all of the machines. The first on my list was the ball maker. As the name suggests it makes those giant rubber balls that exercise joints use and are sold at supermarkets for kids. After I fixed the wiring on its faulty conveyor belt I moved on to the clothing machine. It was used to turn rubber into all sorts of kinky clothing for those interested in it to purchase from our online catalogue. It was running fine as usual so I kept on going with my normal schedule to a machine that produces… well the more personal toys that we made. Women or men could custom order sexual items from our store and we would personally see to it that they were perfect for them. I had actually used my employee discount on this option quite a few times. Other than a few misplaced dildos that missed the chute on the end heading to the packaging section of the factory everything was running just swell. The last stop on my afternoon maintenance route was a machine that made rubber sex dolls. This was actually the most complicated machine in the entire factory seeing as how the machine needed to steadily fill itself with the proper amount of what we called blanks, or latex doll bases that were shaped and some even looked like various women. We had shelves upon shelves back in the storage room of blanks that were systematically placed in different categories and columns based on their looks. Each afternoon a mechanical scanner would sort through each new deposit of blanks that we ordered and place them on racks to be cleaned and then used when the order came for one of those specifications. My boss Ms. Fredrick told me yesterday that she had to cancel the last order because the machine was jammed or something along those lines. So hiking up my jeans I entered the tunnel portion of the machine with my flashlight and began searching for the problem. I searched high and low and eventually came out at the end of the machine in the storage area. I didn’t come in here that often but when I did the sight still astounded me. All around me there were rows of large amounts of rubber items or pure rubber. Then off to the left directly next to the doll machine there was a large wall stacked at least 12 rows high of different looking blank dolls, divided right down the middle by if they had a face or not and then sub sectioned off after that. I turned my head slightly at a buzzing noise and immediately knew what the problem was. The robot, a female looking one that was dressed like a maid that we called Janice, looked to be short circuiting while sorting through the newest order of blanks. Laughing I walked over behind her and swiftly powered her off, giving me the opportunity to fix the wires that had become tangled after weeks of no maintenance. Sighing I switch her back on and she begins moving as usual. “Do you feel better now Janice?” I ask as I take a seat on one of the storage crates. This was one of the perks of this job. I had programmed Janice to be the best friend at work I wouldn’t get in a factory like this. She only had a basic AI but it was enough to have conversation and mess with her to make it worth the work and interaction. She turned to me after depositing a blank that resembled a black woman. “Why yes Lynda, thank you for fixing me again. It is a pain trying to work through malfunction.” She said finishing with a robotic laugh as she went back to work. ...

In 2035, the science department of Atwater College, a small and prestigous New England school, was shaken up by the arrival of a shy exchange student from Poland named Malgorzata. Not that Malgorzata was a disruptive presence: she was a pleasant-looking but unspectacular blonde, short and slender, mild-mannered, and very quiet. The reason that Malgorzata shook up Atwater was that the science department there was world-class and fiercely competitive, and Malgorzata had been doing some amazing things with the new techniques in botanical gene-splicing. One by one, the other students dropped by her lab station to see what she was up to, and came away buzzing with stories of amazing organic transformations, far more sophisticated than the college-level work of her peers. ...

She walked into the office where I work, into my life and into my heart. Well, into my heart and all sort of places that lurked lower down and that are filled with all my baser desires. She swayed through the door and my throat went dry. Her hair was blonde and cropped close, her eyes blue and shining as they swept the room. She was wearing a long mack and even from the distance I could see magnificent breasts making the buttons struggle for survival. ...

story continued from chapter one Chapter 2: The Hunt I awoke abruptly to the sound of loud foghorn in the distance. Three consecutive blows to be exact. I shivered as I inhaled a deep breath of crisp morning air. I groaned inwardly as I felt my head pounding to the beat of my heart. My hearing was muffled as if my ears had seashells cupped over them. Fuck morning migraines, I thought, wincing in pain. I pressed my eyelids tightly together and turned to roll over. That’s when I first realized I wasn’t in my bed. Beneath me, the ground felt firm and damp. I opened my eyes in confusion, but everything around me was a bright blur. ...

I stood thinking about what I was allowing to happen, each strained breath made my mind beg me to stop everything but I stood silent. Every minute I said nothing was a minute where more of the opportunity to stop it passed. I had asked the people from the web site to help me live a dream. I had been a member of their site since it began exchanging many e-mails and eventually phone calls over the years and considered Tina and Jim friends. I had no “bondage buddies” and had begun experimenting with casting shortly after I joined the site and had gotten very good at encasing different parts of my body sometimes for days at a time. I opened my eyes and looked down to see my steel encased cock being covered by the casting wrap and tried to take a deep breath. Each time I tried to breathe deeply the extremely tight corset reminded me it was there. ...

You really hated these stupid themed parties! But how else was a woman such as yourself supposed to mingle with the type of people that would move you up in this world unless you joined in their stupid games. Last week it had been a BDSM party and you had been forced to hire a young little slut to play the part of your “bottom” so that you would be considered a “top” at that party. After all, this kind of crowd automatically assumed you were a “bottom” if you didn’t show them your metal, or in that case, bring them your “slave”. It had ended up being not a completely uninteresting night, you had experienced some pleasure, and you had mingled your way a little higher on the food chain, partly thanks to the wonderful “performance” of your hired helper. ...

Woman to Doll TF It had been a grand total of one week since I began working at the “Lucky Lucy Specialty Store” and it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. Just to clarify, the Lucky Lucy is an adult store that sells objects ranging from the standard playthings to full on bondage benches. It was a real eye opener for someone like me who had no experience in anything beyond the standard dildo or occasional butt plug. My name is Lynda Caves and I started working here because I really needed a good paying job and Lucy’s just so happened to be hiring at a very nice wage. I am 25 years old and would call myself a fairly average girl. I have shoulder length dark brown hair, a decently curved body with a matching plump butt and moderate c-cup breasts. The main reason I was hired was because Ms. Fredrick, the manager, said I looked just right for the job. She later explained to me that people that were into buying the higher end products, like one of our rubber dolls or bondage gear sets, would want the employee to demonstrate them. I was fine with doing so as I was also curious about how I would enjoy the small amounts of bondage I got to enact during work. She also told me after my first month of working here that she had quite a few customers order one of our top-class dolls that be made up to look like me and put them in different types of rubber outfits. The most popular being the rubber maid style and I was very flattered and received a handsome raise after that. It wasn’t until I had been working there nearly three months that Ms. Fredrick imposed a very strange request onto me. “Oh Lynda I really need your help with something! Did that new shipment of blank rubber dolls arrive last night? I can’t find the boxes anywhere and we open in an hour!” she asked already out of breath as she led me to the storage room. Once in the back I helped her look but found nothing other than what was accounted for last night after stock check. “It appears the delivery was pushed back because of demand Ms. Fredrick. All we have is the last shipment of about 20 or so.” I say hoping to alleviate some worry from her. “That just won’t do! We might get more than that today and we need at least one on display so people can see and feel what they will be getting!” she said as we pushed the cart holding the 20 blank female body shapes towards the “Rubber Doll Maker” as we called it. It was a large machine that was completely automated to take the blank doll bases and fit them with a specified design of rubber outfit and bondage equipment at the request of the customer. It was run by small discs that were inserted near a control panel. After the disc was scanned and the doll was placed on the belt leading to the entrance it would be taken into the machine and fitted into the specified outfit before being deposited onto a metal pipe like structure to hold it in place and placed on a hanger to await boxing. It was a rather fascinating process that I enjoyed watching it when I was in charge of getting the dolls ready. Shame it would be a slow day for the machine today. “Wait! Lynda, I have a huge favor to ask of you!” Ms. Fredrick yelled grabbing my shoulders. My eyes widened at the tone and volume of her voice. She certainly had my attention now. “What is it Ms. Fredrick?” I asked as she grinned a little sheepishly. “I was going to ask if you would be willing to be the display doll today? I promise I will double your pay for the next month if you do this for me!” she pleaded with me like it was the end of the world. “Is that all? Sure where is the maid suit? I can put it on and then open up the shop.” I say smiling and looking around for the tight outfit I had modeled once before. She just shook her head at me and smiled again. “No darling I meant BE the doll. As in I am going to put you into the Rubber Doll Maker and put a disc in and turn you into the display doll today. You will be unable to move and I will have the new girl Katie put you on display on the normal stand near the doll aisle until closing time tonight. I will double your pay and give overtime for you so please do it!” Ms. Fredrick begged. My mind was a bit dizzy after that. She wanted to basically turn me into just a doll for the store? Like do me up and then place me on the same stand that said feel free to feel the doll up? Is she crazy? Am I crazy for actually wanting to accept it because it sounded interesting? I decided I wasn’t crazy and that I was just intrigued by the prospect of being bound in a public place, unable to do anything but sit there as I was looked at and groped by complete strangers who thought I was just something to buy. Plus the money was a great bonus. “Uh… sure Ms. F I can do it. Are you sure Katie won’t mind running the shop alone today though? I don’t want to tell her ‘Oh yeah by the way I am going to be part of the stock for a day so don’t wait up!’” I finished sarcastically as both of us broke out laughing. “Oh don’t you worry your pretty head about a thing. I will just say you called in sick. Plus, since the disc we are using is just one of the preset display discs the computer will just process you like any normal days first order. She won’t see anything out of place unless she thinks Doll Code: 09736-Lynda is something more than the standard like Doll Code: 78422-Tina. But we both know she isn’t a detective honey. So chop-chop! We have toys to sell and we can’t start without you! Strip!” she said to me. Knowing full well if I wanted to keep my clothes for later I needed to enter the machine just like any other blank I began stripping and handed each article to Ms. F. I wasn’t really embarrassed since she had to help me into our fair share of catsuits for the customers to see an example of how it looked on an actual person. “OKAY! Honey you know the drill, just put yourself in the deposit slot and I will take care of the rest!” she called running to the control panel. I sighed and worked my way to the start of the conveyor belt where there was a distinct indent where the belt would drop the next blank mold in line before using it to make the next doll. I grabbed the blank that was in the spot and placed it in the cart with the others we had just brought from storage. “Ms. F, we have another blank, make it 21!” I called as I slid my naked body into the cold metal divot in the machine. “Wonderful honey! Now just stay still and let the machine do its job.” She announced as the belt beneath me whirred to life and I was pushed into the now open flap of the awaiting machine. At first I couldn’t really tell what was going on until two metal arms lifted me up and I felt something being sprayed all over my lower body. Wait she didn’t turn off the rinse cycle?! I though in panic as a big brush came out of the lower area and scrubbed me until it deemed me clean. Next I felt something tight encompass my mid-section and constrict my airflow. I tried to breathe but the tightness in my chest and the smell of incoming rubber soon overpowered me and I blacked out. The next time I awoke I was back in the main area of the employee work room and could breathe slightly better but only in short shallow breathes. I tried to move but as I expected, just like any other doll that went through the machine I was tied to a pole. “Sorry about the rough treatment dear! I accidentally hit start before I entered in your body size so the machine thought you were just another blank mold, but I do have to say you look absolutely stunning!” she exclaimed wheeling one of the few mobile mirrors we had in the back over me so I could see what I had become. From my neck down I was tightly shoved into a standard issue black and white rubber maid outfit with little hints of red along the hem of my short skirt. I was fixed up with thigh high stockings, gloves that covered my entire arm and it was all summed up by me body being tied with straps to a pole. “You look just like a dolly with a bit more detail darling! Now hold still.” She said before pulling out a black mouth gag from behind her and started adjusting it to my head. “I know you have a lot of self-control but when some perv starts groping your breasts you WILL want to moan and this will prevent any noise from escaping.” She claimed while strapping it behind my head. She then bent down and pulled out another basic item. A black hood with no eyeholes or any other holes baring that bare necessity of a few breathing ports that were nearly un-seeable. “And though I am sure your pretty face could help us sell even more dolls we can’t risk someone knowing you are real and getting us in trouble with someone in a position of power that thinks what we do here is wrong.” She added. I gave my best attempt at a nod, but with the posture collar on my neck I could only just nod my eyes to which she smiled at me. After fixing my hood into place she patted my now leather clad cheek and giggled. “Katie will be here any minute to set up the store and I will have her put you with the unused blanks in the back so I can free you later. Have fun Ly-Dolly!” she corrected herself as I heard her leave. It must have barely been 10 minutes when Katie showed up singing some song that was no doubt blaring in her headphones as she unstrapped me from the pole and carted me out to my display. She secured me to the display by my thighs and shoulders before zooming off to set up the rest of the shop. I must have dozed off at some point while waiting for the store to open, because when I next awoke I heard a few male voices walking around near where I was. It freaked me out a bit at first before I remembered what I was doing and relaxed. I didn’t get to relax for long because I hear two voices approach me from the front a few moments later. “Look at this slutty doll Marie! I bet she would make a great addition to a threesome!” a deep male voice laughed as he roughly grabbed my left breast and squeezed hard. Ms. F was right, if I wasn’t gagged I would have moaned very loudly. “You’re right Grant but let’s wait for a while, I enjoy having that monster all to myself” she said as they walked away. ...

Do not use without the author’s permission. “Um, this is highly unusual, sir. Here at The Pampered Pet we only do pets.” “But she is a pet.” The middle-aged owner felt a little queasy as she looked down at the woman crammed into the pet carrier. The caged and naked woman couldn’t speak due to the leather muzzle, so she looked up at the owner with, well, puppydog eyes. “Oookay,” said the owner nervously. “I guess we can accommodate her . . .” ...

Part One Becoming a Bondage Model Hi Jamielee here and this is how i became a bondage model. My husband hated his job and one night in bed i jokingly suggested he could become a bondage photographer as he could combine his passion and get paid for it. Now when i suggested this i thought i would get the job as the model. How wrong i was. My man decided to get in aspiring models as he wanted to keep private and business apart. I was furious and thought what an asshole it was my idea in the first place and he gets in some tarts to be his models. Well for weeks i was “too tired” for any playtime when he got home and it was meant to be his punishment but all i did was punish myself and get myself all worked up. So a few months down the line and some very large pay checks and my persistent complaining about the fact that i loved bondage as much as i loved him but i wasn’t good enough to be his model, the tension had grown to boiling point. No intimacy tends to do that. My husband had been very busy the last week or so and his phone hadn’t stopped going. Friday morning i heard the door bang shut waking me up. My husband had left for work. I got up and slipped on my robe and went downstairs to make a cuppa and noticed a large box with a note on top. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = An awkward young man meets his summer neighbors at Pond Cove. Walter has just finished college and is spending one last summer taking care of his weird uncle’s cabin located on Pond Cove, a secluded area surrounded by a government nature preserve. All of the other owners, except one, have been bought out by the government which wants to turn Pond Cove into a frog sanctuary. Walter meets his neighbors for the summer– six sorority sisters who are spending one last summer together. ...

Hi Jamie Lee here. Why is it when guy’s watch sport they forget their partner’s even exist??? Sean always watches the football every Saturday and sometimes during the week. It is at these times i barely get a word out of him. I end up bored and lonely when the football is on. So one Saturday Sean sat down in his chair waiting for the match to start in half an hour’s time. I took to the bedroom and lay on the bed. I was feeling horny & frustrated. So i got off the bed and stripped off my pyjama’s. Standing there naked my 38DD’s jutting out proudly i opened the container at the foot of the bed. I scanned all the lovely bondage gear we have. I got wet at just the sight of it. ...

This past week I got the strangest request I have ever heard. Lynn our neighbor and exotic metal artist who specializes in designing bondage gear for any dom or dungeon that can pay her price came over to our home and asked me, “I just got an idea for the simplest, fiendish, yet secure male chastity device ever designed. I need to finish designing it and I want to borrow your husband’s cock. First as a fixture to help me design it; then as a beta tester to check my lock’s comfort, and be certain that it is escape proof.” ...

Abandonment. It’s not for everyone - peoples life experiences can make this a no go for many people. Thankfully not for me. Here is a true story about a fantasy I had, that was brought to life earlier this year. This won’t be a super long story - because there wasn’t a lot that happened. It just took time, lots of time. I told my hubs about a fantasy that I’ve had for years. a fantasy to be handcuffed, leg ironed, naked, locked up somewhere and just left. ...

(story continues from In the Land of the Dolls 4: Out in the Garden) Part 5: And Then There Were Three The sun beat down on our bare flesh and we were both gaining a glorious tan at odds with our bright red hair and steely blue eyes. Bright red hair that was growing long and thick in a way it seldom did back home. Home, ah what a delightful thought that was. And then, some days, only a distant memory to which I had no wish to return. ...

Should really learn my lesson when it comes to hanging out with Nancy. I love her to death but she causes me to get into all kinds of situations. So when I decided to meet her at this old adult toy factory I figured “What could go wrong”. That was mistake number one. As usual when I hang out with Nancy we were both naked and wandering the upper levels of the factory. Nancy decided to go towards the back and I wanted to look around the factory portion seeing as how I love machines so much. When I reached the working area I was a bit shocked to see suck lifelike woman hanging from chains or laying on different belts scattered around the room. I went around and inspected each area and was giddy with it until I heard the doors on the far side of the large room open and the lights turn on. My heart nearly stopped when I heard a deep voice yell “Who is in here?” I panicked a tad and started looking for an escape route but to my dismay the only exit towards the upstairs area was near the man who was starting to search the room. With no escape option I began quickly scanning for the best hiding spots and sighed in relief and embarrassment when I realized what I could do to get out of this. I sprinted over to a group of semi-finished dolls that were laying in different positions and laid down next to them. I adopted the slightly parted legs and O shaped mouth in order to blend in and awaited the man. It wasn’t long until a rather large man with a uniform for the company walked over and started searching around my area. I remained still with shallow breathes as he glanced at myself and the doll piles and sighed in relief when he went past us to check the last part of the factory floor. I was about to make a break for the exit when the man came back around the corner and approached me. “Man Kyle you always have to leave such a mess for us on the night shift. These damn dolls should have been prepped and ready to get finished when I started the machines tonight.” He said frustrated and scooping up one of the dolls, a black haired and tan skinned beauty, and walked over to the nearest belt. He reached up and placed the doll spread eagle on the conveyor and then attached some type of holder to each limb before coming back over. A pit in my stomach started to form and just got bigger with each of the dolls from my hiding pile that were placed onto the belt until it was just me and another red head and big breasted doll were all that remained. He came back and looked over us appraisingly. “Man why would they make two of the same doll?” he questioned out loud before he scooped up my apparent twin and followed suit in the same process. I was half tempted to run right there but I was frozen in fear of being both discovered in this situation and what this man would do to me. Slowly he came back and grabbed me in one fluid motion. Just like all of the dolls before me I was placed onto the cold metal belt and then fastened in for the ride ahead. With one final look the man nodded and then hit a series of commands on the console nearest to us before leaving. ...

(story continues from Caged for Freedom 2) (Previously posted as part two) Part Three I awoke slowly, reaching for that moment when waking and sleeping cross over and the waking part is the more prominent. It was very quiet throughout the neighbourhood and it seemed almost that I was the only one there. Not a sound. I rolled over luxuriously and had a look at the clock. 9:15am. I had slept in again. ...

Do not use without the author’s permission. The head of the auction house entered the back room and let his gaze linger over the row of ponygirls lined up along the back wall. There were nearly a dozen of them, harnessed and bridled, their hands cuffed behind their backs, their eyes blindfolded, and their ears covered with headphones. They were all completely naked, and the tops of their bridles were hooked to rings set in the brick wall behind them. He was pleased. It looked like it was going to be a very profitable day. ...

Just out of college, Naomi Smith accepted the most difficult of teaching jobs, moving to a remote part of the Appalachians to teach children of all ages, many of whom had had no previous education at all, in a one-room schoolhouse. But Naomi was young and energetic enough to take on the arduous job with optimism. Naomi was a vivacious blonde from a small town in Kansas, slender and confident despite her inexperience. She had a fresh-faced, good-girl, clean-scrubbed beauty that had made more than one of the boys she had known think about marrying her. But she was idealistic and determined to do some good in the world. Though she wasn’t quite the virgin that her wholesome looks suggested, she didn’t flinch from leaving her social life behind for a world of poverty and hardship. Love and marriage would come in due time. ...

(story continues from The Informer) The Informer Part 2 The scene was a large, populous city in the Middle East. It was situated between a high mountainous plateau and a rocky, meandering coastline. A hundred and thirty years ago it had been a collection of mud huts around a small oasis on a little used caravan route. But progress and advancement had come since then. Oil, and later minerals had been discovered and exploited. Water resources in the massif behind the village had been developed into carefully controlled agriculture and lastly, and perhaps most profitably of all, it had become a centre of international finance. Tens of thousands now lived here and if the original hut dwellers could see it today they would have recognised nothing. ...

story continued from part two Part Three I had a hard time sleeping that night. I kept waking to find I was playing with myself. My dirty subconscious mind was finding great pleasure in the situation I had put myself in. The trouble was my poor clit was so over sensitised from the ride it had taken that each time I would fiddle with myself in my sleep it would wake me with the overstimulation. How could I be getting off on this, I thought. ...

She placed her keys on the desk and sat down to slip out of her shoes. A night of peace and quiet ahead, her flat mate was out for the weekend and she had no plans for tomorrow. She sat in silence looking at the bed, a small plain cardboard box smaller than a book sat drawing her gaze. It looked such an innocent box and yet she was having some less than innocent thoughts about its contents. Leaving a trail of abandoned clothing, she made her way to the bathroom to shower and recover some necessary items from her hiding place. Half an hour later she was sat once more at the desk looking at the box. ...

Woman to Sexdoll TF “C’mon Amanda! You have to help me!” Breanna Knoles whined from her seat at the table she is currently siting at. Breanna is a 24-year old woman who works for a family friend as a secretary for his business. Her large C-cup breasts and curvy body that are coupled with her long blonde hair lead most people to believe she is just your typical airheaded bimbo. That is fairly far from the truth however as she graduated top of her small class in college and is currently in the mix for a very high-end job in the scientific field at a local laboratory. In fact, now that the holidays are upon her she decided to forgo any work and just start working on the best present she could think of for her boyfriend of three years. This is why she was sitting in her friend Amanda’s house drinking coffee and explaining her plan. To her it was fool proof. Amanda just stared at her friend with an unreadable expression and sighed. “So just to clarify… you want me to put you through the doll making machine I use at the store and then sell you?” Breanna just laughs and dabs the little bit of her drink that escaped as she was giggling. “No Amanda. I want you to box me up and wrap me so I can be opened by Jack on Christmas. It will be the best present ever!” She exclaimed in excitement. Amanda just stared at her friend as if she was crazy but then joined in on the laughing as they giggled into the evening. By the end of the meeting Amanda told Bree to come around the store around six in the evening on the 23rd so that she could get her ready and under the tree. She was met that night with a hug from a bundled up Bree who was both nervous and excited to get this thing done. The duo entered through the backdoor as the store front was still open and the workers weren’t included in the plan. Sneaking Bree in was easy enough but the actual manufacturing of her desire would be harder. For reference, the store Amanda ran was a kink shop that was easy enough to manage but this order specifically would take some major work to do. The machine in the back did not make the hyper-realistic sex dolls that her shop was so well known for, it was just used to dress and mold them to fit the parameters of the customer. Whether it be for a rental or an actual purchase for that matter. In preparation for tonight’s events Amanda made a special code for the Bree doll she would be making tonight and even got the privilege to choose the sexy outfit she would be all kinked up in. ...

It’s nearly dark outside, but still very warm. It had been the perfect day, sunny and hot with low humidity, making tonight the perfect night for the predicament bondage I’ve been planning for weeks. I had turned off the air conditioner earlier, and left the windows open while I prepared, so the bedroom is nice and warm. The fans turning slowly at the top of the high, peaked ceiling and a light evening breeze coming through the windows will keep the room from becoming too uncomfortable, and the heat will provide the ideal contrast to the torment I have planned! I drink some more water because I know I will be sweating in a few minutes! ...

story continued from part one Part Two So everything was set up. I did a quick double check of everything and made sure the ice release was set with the correct amount of ice for about 45 minutes as planned. I stripped out of my clothes and positioned myself onto the sybian in a kneeling position. First I took a length of rope and tied it around my left ankle with 2 long tails off the rope which I passed over my thighs and tied securely. I repeated the operation on my right leg making it impossible for me to rise from the machine. ...

story continued from part one The Ball Part 2 Since her lengthy stay in the ball Jen waited a week before the draw to use it again became too strong and when she returned home she stripped off her clothes inserting her vibrator and gag before taking her hand cuffs and sliding into the ball. She had set it on top of the stand Mark had made and was able to slip into it without knocking it over. Settling into the bottom of the ball, closing and latching the top before closing the cuffs behind her back then leaning back took a deep breath before turning on the vibrator. She sat moaning enjoying the vibrations and the feelings from her restrictions of the cuffs and the ball. She began to roll over and in the process she rolled the ball off its stand and felt it rolling. She squealed as it rolled roughly into a wall before bouncing off sending her head over heels into another before stopping leaving her partially upside down. ...

Woman to Sexdoll TF It was twelve p.m. when Kalyn Parks arrived at the Shady Tree Doll Factory. Kalyn was a 5’2 busty brunette with a figure that any girl would kill for and although she was a shy person she did love her body. That was part of the reason she called for a meeting with the head of the factory Brian Cruise. She had a plan that only he could help with. So as she entered the factory and was lead to the main office by the secretary. “Hello there Miss Parks I presume? Welcome to the Shady Tree Doll Factory I am Brian Cruise so please tell me what it is that you need my help with” Mr. Cruise says while greeting Kalyn. “Hello there Mr. Cruise um well I suppose my request is … strange and I understand if you don’t want to help me but I have to ask” the brunette says very timidly. “Please Kalyn call me Brian and I am no stranger to the weird. For god’s sake I work in a doll factory, my life is the definition of weird so please ask away.” He said well naturedly while leaned against the desk in the middle of the room. “Um … well … my boyfriend and I have been together for a year now and I really like him so I want to make this one special so I was going to make myself a doll for him…” she said quickly but still clear enough for Brian to understand and nod slowly. “So just to clarify, you want me to help you become a doll for your boyfriend?” he asked to which he received a brief nod from the now beat red girl. “How exactly shall we do this?” he inquired while standing up to give her his full attention. ...

(story continues from Oops Wrong Bin) story continued from part one Part Two Maybe I could convince my beautiful neighbour to just dump her garbage for good, the signs are there for sure. I just need to push things along gently I thought to myself. Hopefully soon she’ll allow me to join in with his trashing then I’ll be able to guage how to complete my plan. I knew Lisa would be trashing him again soon so I decided to help her slightly with trashy pleasures for Stu. Lisa had mentioned her displeasure when she could still see him in the bottom of the industrial strength garbage sacks. So I emptied my fridge early in the week just to ensure everything I bagged was foul smelling and going bad. The weather was still warm it would heat up nicely in the large outside in the sun. ...

(story continues from G Man At The Kennel 2) Part Three Tonya and the collared and still mute G man arrived back home, both exhausted from their workout, Tonya diving into the shower the moment she could. She was a squishy mess, and G man’s proportions and intensity such that the stunning Tonya was in mild pain just walking about. She obviously had to hide this fact from her friend, and it was a believable lie that the walk had worn them both out, but obviously for different reasons than what Mrs. G man might have been led to believe. ...

Science student Amanda tries an experimental method of making her breasts larger. It was the second week of a six-week summer science camp. After a week, even a group of nerdy kids with limited social skills start to talk to each other. One of the few girls at the camp, a skinny, very tall blonde named Amanda, was sitting in the cabin of a boy named Jeremy. Jeremy sat on one side of the room, entering lab notes on his laptop, while Amanda chattered happily. Amanda was actually quite attractive in an angular, Slavic sort of way. ...

(story continues from Just the Right Spot) Chapter 2 The cool night air rushed into their tent as Tracy pushed aside the flaps. She had retied her cousin, now sitting behind her with rope around her ankles and knees as well as binding her wrists and elbows behind her back. The young blonde’s mouth was still covered with duct tape and a rope leash dangled down between her bared breasts. Tracy gave a tug on the leash, “Come on.” ...

Woman to Sexdoll Janice decided to give her husband a very special birthday present this year, she’d given him many gifts over the past few years they had been married and even given herself to him dressed in eye popping lingerie. But this year she wanted something extra special and after looking at some of his browsing history Janice knew the perfect gift – a full size realistic sex doll. ...

Part One This all started to form as a plan when I was at work and overheard a sleazy colleague called Ross talking with someone about how he wished he lived in the days where if a secretary messed up he could throw her across a desk and give her ass a thrashing with a belt. He had been whispering, but I heard it and it got me thinking about being in the position of such a secretary - with some asshole like him having that kind of control over me. I imagined that I needed the job desperately, and would be in no position to argue. These thoughts really got me turned on, but there was no way to ever be in such a position and I knew deep down that the reality would certainly not be as pleasantly humiliating and degrading as the fantasy. ...

Another day finished. Working as a manager in the top range fashion store in the city’s massive shopping mall, Erin was locking up at the end of the day. She was wearing her usual black leather jacket and leggings combo, her brown hair straightened out. She was beautiful and sexy. She began making her way through the mall when she spotted Ashleigh, one of the shopping mall cleaners. She was quite a plain girl, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, but still attractive. Ashleigh noticed Erin looking at her and grabbed her chance to speak with her. ...

Woman to Sexdoll TF I was never a hangout at the mall kind of girl during high school, but my best friend and roommate in college Annabel would nonstop bugging me until I came to the new adult store in that she works at. During the first big break on our school year, I decided to step out of our dorm and pay her a visit. Before I do I suppose an introduction is needed. My name is Bridgett Trotter, a 22 year old junior in college. I am a pretty good looking girl according to the boys on campus at least. My upper back length blonde hair is tied into a neat ponytail. My tan skin is accentuated by my teal V-neck shirt and khaki shorts that also show off my D-cup breasts and curvy body. After a short drive from our campus and walking into the mall I spotted the store appropriately named “Sensual Paradise” and headed inside. The store was rather empty as I glided through all of the aisles looking for my friend who was supposed to be on duty. The shelves are filled with various devices designed to pleasure anyone who purchases them. After I exited a row of dildos in multiple shapes and sizes, I arrived at the back of the store and my jaw promptly dropped. There against the wall were 3 very sexy and lifelike female sexdolls completely nude to the world. I looked the one closest to me with wide eyes. She was a woman that looked the same age as me but with black hair and lighter skin. She had her arms bent and slightly to the side and legs parted to show off the folds of her synthetic womanhood. As I watched over her body a sudden pang of envy popped into my mind. ‘What if I was to try that? Would anyone notice?’ I had browsed sites like dollstories.net before and enjoyed the works posted their enough to follow the site frequently. Just the thought of putting myself in the position of one of the dolls laying against the wall was turning me on. Quickly stowing those thoughts away I turned to the desk near the front of the streams saw Annabel talking to another customer. Smirking I started formulating my plan. I hastily made my exit from the store and retreated back to my car. As inconspicuously as I could be I hid all of the belongings I had on me including my keys in the glove box of my car. I reached up into my hair and pulled the tie holding my ponytail out before tossing that inside as well. I was now ready for stage two. Walking back into the store I avoided the sight of the few customers brave enough to enter the adult store but most importantly I remained unseen to Annabel. I slipped to the very back of the store where the objects of my infatuation laid still and beautiful all the while smiling to myself. My plan was as follows: ...

I knew her before she was famous. That is something we’ve all heard before. Most people are just running their mouths and don’t mean what they say. That was not the case for Chuck Weston. He did know someone before they were famous. He knew her very, very well. Her name was Pamela Lotz. The world would come to know her as megastar fashion model simply called Pamela. Their parents had been the best of friends and they spent all their time together growing up. Due to the age difference and the height distance (he had always been on the small side and she had always been tall) people often mistook them for brother and sister. They themselves never had that problem. Chuck had been in love with Pamela from the moment he began to be interested in girls. Why wouldn’t he? She was a gorgeous blond beauty with a wide juicy ass, sweet baby face and large firm commanding breasts so powerful they threatened whatever top she tried to trap them in. ...

Evangeline and John locked the door of the studio and hurried into the next room, looking around them. “There’s no telling when they’ll be here — we’ll have to move fast. The only important thing is to get you out of here.” The pretty 20-year-old nodded, fighting back her fear. Her cell leader turned to her and took her by the shoulders. “There’s only one way. Do you trust me?” ...

(story continues from Hard Dreams) Part 2 Thirty minutes later, the succubus was dozing on a very comfy couch. She was pretty happy with how things were going. The feeling she was getting from the man were absolutely intoxicating. His ass and legs were stripped with red marks, some bright and some dark, reaching all the way from the top of his ass to the bottom of his thighs. She had taken her time, ensuring that every part of his backside had been given attention, all at a punishing nonstop pace. There had been no breaks, only pauses between each blow. It took quite a bit of time, but she had eventually felt satisfied with the caning. At that point the heat radiating off his ass had been strong enough for her to actually warm her hands with it. ...

Mark Sorenson typed furiously, trying to complete the document prior to his 10:30 meeting. His subordinates kept trying to convince him that it would be faster if he simply dictated and let the computer do the work of getting it down into letters and words, but he was “old school”. While voice recognition had come a long way he still preferred to do it himself. “Old fashion” they call him. That’s okay, at least he knows that what gets written was really what he wanted to say, and not what the computer thought it heard. He was proud of being ‘old fashion’ in other areas. ...

The Evil Ancient Pharaoh emerged from his king-sized golden sarcophagus. He glanced back at the female mummy he had slept with that night, wrapped neck to toe in clean white bandages. The buxom blonde reporter, Honey Golden, had served him well but he was finished with her for the time being. He cast a spell that lapsed her into ageless slumber, scooped her up into his arms, and carried her across the room to what would seem to be a solid wall to anyone who didn’t know the secrets of the tomb. With a single verbal command, the undead ruler made the secret door open, revealing the chamber that held his greatest treasure; his harem. Thanks to spells cast when the tomb was originally carved into the side of the cliff, this chamber had a far greater interior volume than what would otherwise be physically possible, and could expand even more if need be. The Pharaoh walked down one of the many rows and gently placed the lovely Ms. Golden in the first empty sarcophagus available. Taking a small roll of bandages from a nearby storeroom, he put up her flaxen hair, wrapped her head, and then he put the lid on her sarcophagus, sealing her in. She would be safely tucked away until he desired her again. ...

story continues from part one Part 2: The Banister Only a week after Alicia’s train ride, she was at it again. This time she was planning to use a gravity ride called “The Tortoise” to satisfy her desires. She was all set to begin her three minute trial run. Once that had been completed she planned on making a few additional changes, changes which would allow her to ride the ride for its full length. ...

Lori walked slowly through the forest near her home, leaning her sweat covered body back she looked at the sun rising and grunted behind the large leather gag that she had strapped so tight that the skin around each strap was puckering above and below them. The thick leather bit filled her mouth, pulled back by the twin straps that attached to the D-rings on either side. The vertical straps criss crossing her head like all the others were very wide splitting around her nose joining a single strap that ran between her eyes limiting her view. All the sturdy straps combined with the wide chin strap making it impossible to remove without unbuckling it, and of course the small padlocks made that impossible. Lori leaned her rigid body forwards again forcing her shaking legs to continue moving her towards her back yard. ...

Based on a favorite fantasy of mine. Her Husband leaves for work for the day, the wife then proceeds to tie herself up using straps and also trashbags. She likes being garbage sometimes, she gets an overwhelming desire to become nothing but trash, she strips off, prepares her stuff in the kitchen, there are two identical bags of trash she’d prepared the night before waiting in the kitchen. She gets her bags ready, both rolled and opened ready for her to get into. She uses straps to hold her thighs to her body and others to hold her calves to her thigh, in a sort of frogtie position, leaving her open. She places a ring gag in her mouth, one she bought secretly and hides from her husband. She places leather cuffs on her wrists; she uses these so they don’t leave tell-tale marks. ...

It was Halloween night and your girlfriend had told you earlier in the month that she wanted to stay in for the night and watch tv and give out candy to trick or treaters. You were kind of hoping to go out and do something because you were feeling a bit stir crazy lately and wanted to get out of the house. You stated that you weren’t really interested in handing out candy and would rather go out, but said it would be fine if she really wanted to. She said thank you and paused, then said “I’ll make sure you’re not bored.” You thought nothing of it except wondering what how she could do that. She was playful and fun to be around, so you just assumed she would find something good on tv and have fun with the trick-or-treaters or something. ...

“I’m Abigail and this is Deviant Ride, where I sneak into theme parks after hours and ‘convince’ one lucky park employee to join me. This week we take our biggest risk yet: we’re hitting Disney California Adventure. We’ll start here at Disney’s Grand Californian Resort & Spa. Built back in 2001, this hotel is known for two things: it’s beautiful arts & crafts design and it’s private entrance to the Disney California Adventure Park, which you can see behind me. But first, let’s show you what you really want to see.” ...

(story continues from Homecoming 6: Silent Witness) Authors note: This is a standalone story featuring characters from Homecoming Part 7: Arietta’s Turn “Mother, do I have to?” Isolda sighed softly. How can it be, she thought, that I can rule and entire kingdom, yet I can’t seem to get through to my own daughter? Maybe the old ways really are best. “Etta,” she said softly, “it’s not like I’m asking you to do anything difficult.” ...

(story continues from The Friend) Part 2: The Friend Plays Again If my girlfriend ever found out there would be trouble. Probably some big trouble, but what can I say in my defence other than that I am weak. Her ‘friend’ joined in our games a few weeks ago, a blue-eyed curvy temptress from somewhere in the old Eastern Europe who had delighted in our games and brought to them a whole new dimension. And when my auburn-haired lady friend was away, her friend and I had started to play together. ...

Woman to Sexdoll TF Halloween was always a favorite time of year for me, and this year was no different. Being in college only excited my urge to think of a good costume for the year. My name is Courtney Queen, a college sophomore at the age of 21. I have long brown hair that ends just past my shoulders. I have a hazel pair of eyes and a rather pretty face. My body is a standard one for a beautiful young woman as I have thick thighs, a fair set of upper B-cup breasts and a nice butt. I may not be a model but boys would always take second looks at me. Currently I was walking back into the female dorm at my university, thinking broadly about what I wanted to be for the Delta frats Halloween party tonight. “I can’t go as just some generic costume; I need something that will stand out! Something that pops…” I think out loud to myself as I walk into the lobby and hear two other girls talking about something. Stopping at the door to the hall I live in I decide to eavesdrop a bit. Leaning against the wall I tuned in. “… and I heard they were going to have an entire load of the newest model from that company in France. They let them be rented out and then returned after a single party for a very affordable price since they all chip in,” the first girl, a redhead who looks to be rather smart says. ...

Continued from part one and two This is a true story. After mom found me down in basement naked and handcuffed to a post. Mom was very open about sex and nudity. My dad passed away when I was 8 years old. My dad was a lawyer. We would go to the French islands. 2 to 4 times a years. I guess that how I got a love of nudity. I began playing with self bondage when I was about 10 years old. Most of my self bondage efforts with rope turned out to be trash. One day I found a web site on how to do on self bondage. How to tie your wrists behind your back. How to loop the rope. Put my wrist in the loops, and then have a loop, back up to a door knob pull the rope tightly around my wrist. After a few tries, I got it where it worked great. The only way out was have some one untied me or take a knife cut myself free. ...

One summer night not too long ago, I endulged myself in a self bondage session in my back yard. As I do this very often, I was very experienced and had become over confident in my kinky habit. Normally I would plan my session and test that everything goes to plan, hopefully, and then proceed to actually lock myself into my predicament. You should know, every story I post on here is 100% true unless stated otherwise. This is one of those true stories I have to tell that I almost didn’t get to tell. ...

Do not use without the author’s permission. “Fuck off, scumbag.” Sonny was hurt. All he had asked for was some spare change for a cup of coffee, and this rich-bitch cunt had all but kicked him in the balls. Dressed in her expensive suit and talking on her smart phone like she was the fuckin’ Queen of Sheba or something. She thought she was so superior, walking down the street with that toned gym body, perfect hair, and designer fucking shoes. Screw her. She was worse than many of the others. He had hoped that the recent gentrification of the neighborhood would mean more handouts, but that was not the case at all. ...

(story continues from Undercover) Part Two One nice thing about salads, Joey thought as he rinsed his plate and put it in the drainer. With salads, dishes were so much easier to deal with. Too bad laundry couldn’t be so easy. Smiling, he turned away from the sink and moved into the living room. In the three days since he moved in, Joey had grown quite familiar with his new apartment. Large, spacious, the apartment took up the entire third floor of the building. In addition to the living room and kitchen, the place boasted a pair of good sized bedrooms, two full baths, laundry room, pantry, and an small extra room set up as a gym. There was even a balcony. Entry to the building was through a single door in the front corner. Inside, just to the right of the door, was an elevator. On each floor, the apartment was reached via a door at the far end of the hall that stretched the length of that side of the building. This put the living room at the rear, while the bedrooms shared the front wall. Not a normal arrangement, as far as he knew, but he liked it. ...

story continued from part one ORIGINS - phase two As I became more comfortable with the realization that I liked bondage I became more adventurous with my experimentation. I found web sites that gave me plenty of ideas for self bondage and some in case I ever found a partner. I created a notebook of ideas that excited me and wrote notes in hopes of one day trying them and actually finding out if I did like them. ...

Disclaimer…this story is fiction, a fantasy… The activity depicted would be VERY dangerous and would most likely end in SEVERE injury and maybe even death. No-one should ever conduct any self-bondage without a secure foolproof escape and a dependable backup… THE POST… He stood in front of it, naked. It was a little more than waist high. When he stood directly in front of it, it was just a little taller than his navel. Eight to ten inches thick but slimmer at the top, about two to three inches, rounded, not sharp, and very smooth… ...

Part 1 0 - 0 - 0 - 0:28 “Some people are winners and some are losers. That’s just the way that it is,” Hank thought as he stacked the last of the scaffolding into the back of the truck. “Best to always take action to make sure you are the winner.” He added another fabricated fuel log to the trucks burner and tightened the steam valve on the piston compartment. ...

Part 1 - A Friendly Game of Ping Pong She HAD to find a way out - the alternative was unthinkable. Her nefarious opponent had put her into a truly diabolical situation. How had it come to this? Struggling wouldn’t help. Not that she hadn’t tried, of course. But even if she had twice the strength she still wouldn’t be able to break free by force. If there was someone there with her, she could beg and plead. But she was alone. ...

Story continues from part one Part 2: The Aftermath As soon as she got back to her apartment, Kaylee went into her bedroom, shut the door, locked it, and lay face-down on her bed. She was absolutely miserable and didn’t feel up to doing anything at all. She had been lying there a couple of hours when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. It was her roommate checking on her. The two normally had their evening meal together, but Kaylee didn’t have an appetite and didn’t want to talk to anyone. Kaylee, remaining on the bed, told her roommate through the door that she wasn’t feeling well and just wanted to sleep. Her roommate wanted to come in to check on her, but Kaylee was insistent that she be left alone. ...

Story continues from part two Part 3: When It Rains, It Pours Jenna saw the timer counting down on the screen. She hardly had any time to think! Kaylee had told her she had to press the button and hold it down for five full seconds. She didn’t really understand the reason for this, but knew she’d better do as she was told. She didn’t want to find out what the penalty was which Kaylee had referred to. ...

Hi I’m Ali, I’m 21 and I’ve just finishing an apprenticeship (not going to say where or what I’m studying just in case someone figures out this is me). I’m 5ft 4 inches, I’m a skinny little redhead with very pale skin. Everyone calls me cute or adorable (it’s really annoying). And I love been restrained and tormented. I think a little bit of back story is needed at this point. I discovered my fondness for BDSM whilst on a family holiday in France. It’s one of those holidays where your parents stuff you in the back of a small car with your siblings and drive hundreds of miles in blistering heat with no air con (torture – but not the good kind). So we drove through France, I had just turned 18 and on either side of me are my 2 bickering brothers aged 10 and 12 (don’t ask me why my parent waited so long between me and them). ...

(story continues from My Summer Of Dares 11: My Full Dogification) Part 12: Embracing my Canine Transformation “Don’t try the stairs yet, they’re likely to be a little tricky with your new legs” Gregory warned. I made respectful eye contact by way of an answer, I not needing to be told that words were reserved for the humans in the room and not I. I had dreamed about this level of control, although in those I had been bound in more traditional ways, still being “forced” to walk around on my padded knuckles and knees was a submissive turn on. I was free to move about, but not humanly so with my legs trapped by my new toys, being both bound and free at the same time. ...

I would like to tell you about the best party I have ever gone to… or at least the most fun. First I will tell you a little about me. I am 5’5” with long blond hair and blue eyes. I have been best friends with Georgia since we were like 5 years old. When we entered high school we start to experiment with sex with each other and guys. We also explored fetish activities as well. That is when I discovered how much I like getting tied during sex. I loved the loss of control, the helpless feeling that went along with good bondage. Throughout high school Georgia would satisfy my bondage cravings because I didn’t trust the boys in school not to think of me as a freak. Georgia and I had many great bondage sessions but those stories are for another day. ...

Laras immortal adventures. The day to day boredom has officially started to get to me. I spend most of my days pacing my apartment back and forth trying to think of something to do. I haven’t needed to work ever since I became immortal 3 years ago. Though I do occasionally like to eat out every now and again. Fast food wasn’t necessarily cheap but it was definitely worth it. I was making my way back into the living room when my cell phone rang. It lit up with a picture of my best friend Anna. ...

You’ve been lying here 20 minutes now, wondering what’s going to happen. Face down on the bed, naked and hogtied with cable ties. Waiting for another night of fun, but tonight is different. I walk in eventually, you notice something is up, I’m just wearing a pair of joggers and a hoodie, my hair is tied back and my sleeves rolled up. Usually I wear something sexy for you but tonight I look like I’m going to do some housework. That’s cause I am. I don’t even acknowledge you as I leave again and go to the kitchen. I come back in holding a roll of extra large, heavy duty, black, garbage bags in one hand and a roll of duct tape in the other. I toss them next to your face on the bed and leave again. This time I return with the vacuum cleaner and leave it next to the bed. I stand there, look at you and sigh. I start to unravel one of the shiny and smooth, garbage bags and rip it off the roll. “What’s the vacuum cleaner for?” You ask curiously, as I climb behind you. I completely ignore your question and instead lean close and pinch your nose shut. As your mouth opens instinctively to breathe, you start to feel me packing the un-open garbage bag I ripped off into your mouth until the whole thing is in there. Forgetting to let go of your nose, you start to choke as I force it in. I hold my hand over your mouth to keep it in, then start wrapping it up in tape. Round and round. Pulling it tight as I go until I’m satisfied you’re not going to make a sound. Then you start to feel me wrapping up your cable ties with the thick, duct tape, securing the hogtie. Making sure all your limbs are stuck tight. You even feel me tape up your fingers and toes. You wonder for a second if I’m maybe going a bit over the top but that soon fades as the ecstasy of being helpless starts taking over and you start to enjoy it. “I wouldn’t get too excited, if I were you.” I say calmly, noticing your dripping erection. You look up at me nervously wondering what I’m planning. You try to mouth words through your gag, asking what the hell I’m going on about, but nothing comes out. Just a quiet muffled noise. “Shhhh, don’t worry!” I laugh. “I’ll explain everything, it’s the least I can do considering what I’m about to do to you. I want you to know what’s going to happen and why I’m doing this to you.” You heart stops for a moment, what’s she going to do? Your mind starts racing. “Well, unfortunately, I’m bored of you now. You’ve exhausted your last bit of usefulness and just like every disposable object, which you are, you have an expiry date. That date is today, right now.” You start to nervously chuckle through your gag before I interrupt your amusement. “I’m not fucking joking! You are done. I’m going to pack you up in these garbage bags like the worthless junk you are and throw you out with all the rest of the trash. I guess you could say, I’m dumping you.” I giggle at my own joke, proud of myself for my quick humor as you panic on the bed, wondering if this crazy girl is actually serious. Well, she is. “Oh yeah, you were wondering what the vacuum cleaner was for? Well, today I spent all day cleaning up SO much trash. There are so many bags that I’m going to have to vacuum pack you to fit you in the dumpster with it all.” Then you realize, she is serious. You start begging through your gag as I rip off more garbage bags from the roll. I don’t say a word. I just shake the bag open and slide it over your head and shoulders. I grab onto the tape holding your legs and hands together in your hogtie and use it to slide you into the shiny, smooth, thick bag. You get pushed all the way to the end and start feeling me pushing the air out of the black bag and bringing the sides of the bag together as everything gets darker. You lie there, helplessly moaning as you hear me plug in the vacuum. “You better hold your breath” I laugh. “Or don’t, I don’t care.” With that, the vacuum nozzle is put into the bag and the switch goes on. You feel the bag slowly start to suck in around you and your heart starts racing. The confining plastic closes in. Getting tighter and tighter. Before you know it, you are having to blow the bag from your face as it keeps getting sucked into your nose until finally you are air tight. I hold the vacuum there a few extra seconds just to make sure I’ve got all the air out, then I tape up the end tight. Bending the end over on itself, making sure nothing escapes and taping it again. By this point, you are starting to struggle for air, trying to signal me to let you breathe. I climb on top of your vac bagged body and all you hear is the sound of tape being ripped off of the roll. You feel me start to wrap the thick, black tape around your mouth, as if I was gagging you again, then around your eyes. Now you are screaming for air. “But garbage doesn’t need to breathe.” I say mockingly. I play with you a little and rub your dick with my hand as hard as I can before I finally pop a hole in each of your nostrils for air before you pass out. “I want you conscious for this, you’ll have plenty of chances to suffocate later.” Starting to resign yourself to your fate, you hear the unraveling of yet another trash bag. The exact same thing happens again as before. You get slid inside, air sucked out and a couple of holes to breathe through your nostrils. This in fact happens another two times until I’m satisfied. “Now I need to make you look less suspicious incase someone happens to come across you. I wouldn’t get your hopes up though, I’m going to make sure you are nowhere near the top of the dumpster for anyone to find but I don’t want to take any chances.” I open up a final three trash bags and put them inside each other and lie them open, upwards, on the floor. I leave the room and come back with two full garbage bags from the weeks kitchen trash. I cut one open and dump it into the three layered, open bags and throw the now empty kitchen bag in with it as well. “I can’t tell the difference between you and the trash in this bag if I’m completely honest, but that’s just me.” I say passively. With that, I grab your feet and slide you off the bed and into the bags. You land with a bit of a thud but most of the garbage breaks your fall. Then I grab the other full kitchen bag and cut that open and dump it on top of you. “Now it’s time to take out the trash, I’m getting rid of you for good.” You give off a scream as I pull the draw strings together and tie it tight, not sealing off the bag completely so that you get some air through. You can feel and smell the garbage around you now. Packed tightly in my trash and sealed almost completely in a plastic bag, you can’t help but smell your sweat and arousal as well. Wondering if I’ll actually dig through the nasty trash to free you. Knowing your going to be trapped under a mountain of bags very soon, who knows if and when you’ll get any air. You feel me sliding you all the way too the garage. With you all packed up tight, you are a lot easier to lift into the trunk of my car but I still struggle and eventually drop you into it with a big thud. “Oh shit!” I scream. For a moment you think I’m concerned for your safety but that hope dies fast as you realize I was worried about having loose trash falling out of the bag into my trunk. Those heavy duty bags don’t rip easy though. And I’ve lost count of how many you are in. You hear me load up the garbage from the big clean up earlier before I close the trunk and we take a short trip to a remote area with a few dumpsters. The trunk opens. “This is it, time to throw you away with the garbage. No coming back now, this is happening. No ones going to find you, you’re going to lie in that dumpster under all the trash until you either suffocate or get crushed with the trash in the garbage truck. Pick-up here isn’t that regular so it will be a while before anyone comes by and I’m going to lock the dumpster shut just to make sure you stay where you belong. Most importantly, die where you belong. I walk away and grab a shopping kart lying around that some hobo probably left, then proceed to lift you into it. The dumpster has a ramp up to it so I push you in the cart all the way up to the opening. “Oh wow! That stinks! If you think that kitchen trash is bad you’ve got another thing coming.” Then I lean in close so you can hear me clearly. “I’m going to go home now and cum to the thought of you lying here, knowing I’ve finally taken out the trash for good. Thinking of you gasping on rotten, hot air until eventually enough plastic bags fall on your filthy face and send you to sleep for good. Knowing you’ll never be found, just another bag of trash getting dumped and compacted into a garbage truck. And once I’ve cum, I promise, i will never think of you ever again.” And with that, I tip you into the half full dumpster as you let of a final muffled scream in terror. Or at least the last one I’ll ever hear. I let you get comfortable as I go and get the rest of the trash bags from the car. There’s about 11 of them, some of them heavier than others. The lighter ones with the soft trash get thrown on you first, and I make sure and drop one of the huge, black bags right on top of where your head is. Then the heavier bags dumped on top of that. I just want to get home now, but I need to finish the job. I push down on the lid, having to force the garbage down to get it closed and lock it shut. You hear the rubbish all around you crumple, creak, and groan before I flip the lockbar in place. I stop and listen, I can’t hear anything. Good. You’ll never leave that dumpster, alive at least. You hear the car start and leave. The sound disappears as it gets further away, then just like that, silence. You’re fucked. You can’t move an inch, the smell is foul and your already struggling to breathe. You start panicking as plastic sucks against your nostrils, desperately trying to control your breathing. But it’s no use, you can’t find a pocket of fresh air. The bags pushing in against your face slowly from the weight of the garbage around you and the air running out of the bag your tightly sealed inside of. You finally accept your fate, only wishing you could jerk off, but your hands are hogtied to your feet. You start to grind against a bag of trash next to you, trying to get one last bit of pleasure before its lights out, until you finally cum inside your wet, slimy bag. The orgasm is unlike any you’ve ever had, it’s so very intense. In the ecstasy of cumming, you knock a bag loose, which falls down and sinks into your face. The loose bag seems to conform around your face and envelope you, hugging you sternly as you struggle for your last gasp beneath a thin layer of plastic. Goodbye garbage. That’s what you get.

(story continues from The Trash Wife 2: My Reward) Part 3: Discovery & Consequences My husband and I continued to play my/our garbage fetish games, with me tightly bound, naked and bagged inside several garbage bags, with the household trash tossed inside with me, coating my naked body with all its gooey goodness. I have an objectification fetish and my husband indulges me when I want to be bound and bagged, stored and put away, usually out with the rest of the garbage. He seems to like the sight of me tightly bound, bagged and ready to use for his own sexual satisfaction. ...

Charley had only just found out about the world of latex, after a friend bought her a pair of latex leggings. Since then she had been seeing how far down the rabbit hole she could go in a week. She had been meet with a tidal wave of kinky fetish nightmares and sickeningly prevented images. She had unlocked a deep lake of hidden fantasies and desires within herself. After searching the internet for days, she found something which left her heart racing and her soul horny. On a heavy rubber and bondage forum based in the UK was an advert looking for a woman to be a long term rubber bondage prisoner. Charley had message the owner of the post saying how much she wanted to do it. She got a message back within 48 hours with a list of instruction of what to do. ...

Simple things can trigger happy memories. For Erica, it was the sound of a key in a lock, until now. Glancing around, she flexed muscles that hadn’t been used in probably too long, thinking about how that simple joy had changed. “I love that sound.” His face sporting a puzzled look, Jacob watched as the deputy opened the cell door. “And why,” he asked, “is that?” “You’d think I’m strange if I told you,” Erica replied, stepping slowly from the cell where she’d just spent the weekend. ...

One summer night not too long ago, I endulged myself in a self bondage session in my back yard. As I do this very often, I was very experienced and had become over confident in my kinky habit. Normally I would plan my session and test that everything goes to plan, hopefully, and then proceed to actually lock myself into my predicament. You should know, every story I post on here is 100% true unless stated otherwise. This is one of those true stories I have to tell that I almost didn’t get to tell. ...

(story continues from Playing Chauffer 4: Playing Chauffer, The Sequel) Part 5: Passionate Collateral Damage “…That I tend to ruin perfectly good women, or so I’ve been told, along with my being a hyper aggressive barbarian” the latter delivered with a testing smirk. There was a lot going on here, and I knew my response would be critical, and on top of that I had my own thoughts to contend with. I didn’t regret what we had done, but this new day brought with it some powerful feelings for myself, the greatest of which was that I had no regrets. There was an obvious price to pay for this first infidelity of mine, (every step for the first part of my day at least likely reminding me physically of what we had done together), but I apparently wouldn’t be paying the bulk of it, nor I though would Jim as he seemed rather content with himself, as he should… ...

Sci-Fi, Strip Tease, Weird, Hermaphrodite, Non-Consensual, Even Weirder, Sexual Combat, = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A spacer learns the universe is stranger than he thought. There are two parts to the story. The first describes a very unusual strip tease in a strange club on a remote planet. The second is an old space pirate’s tale of an even stranger sexual ritual on a planet so far away that it is no longer in Terran space. ...

The 18-wheeler pulled up to the customs booth, and the customs agent stepped out and called up to the driver. “What’s your load?” “Ponygirls,” growled the burly, bearded driver with the Bettie Page tattoo. “Pull into the inspection station, please.” The driver nodded and maneuvered his truck over to the designated area. He shut off the engine and stepped out. As a seasoned trucker, he knew the routine—he handed the binder full of forms to the agent and dug out the keys to open the back. ...

Pulling the medium-sized piece of luggage behind me, I navigated through the apartment complex. It was made of shiny aluminum on the outside. There was an extendable handle for easy movement and soft, quiet rubber wheels on the bottom so it could be pulled without much effort or noise. I stopped in front of unit 173A. Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out the door key. It had been mailed to me by Emma earlier in the week. I had been here before; but today we had planned something special. Our should I say she. While I did all the grunt work, actually today was mostly her plan. I was just the lucky guy who gets to be part of it. ...

(story continues from Advanced Bondage 2) Part Three “Retire?” Nikki Vincent nodded without raising her head from Bob’s shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about it,” she replied. “But why? You love bondage.” Nikki nodded again. “I do,” she said softly. “Bondage is my one great love, always has been. But there are other things, things I’m getting tired of.” “Such as?” Slowly, Nikki raised herself from where she lay nearly atop Bob. Kneeling beside him on the bed, she began ticking points on her fingers. ...

(story continues from The Game) The Game Part 2 I woke up in a strange place and in front of me, my wife was now tied up in a brand new attire. A white business suit with a blue blouse underneath finished with a white and blue scarf tied choker style around her neck. She was blindfolded with a scarf and gagged with a blue bandana and another scarf securely wrapped around her wrists while I was simply tied up naked with my wife’s scarves. ...

This is a true story. I have been playing with self bondage from the age of 10. When I was a young girl, we played tie up games, I was the one getting tied up. There was one boy I think his name was Jerry. He liked to tie me up. And he was very good at it. Some times I would wear just my swimsuit when Jerry would tie me up. I could not get free. Then Jerry and his family moved. ...

Attendance at the Bondage Club was usually down in mid-winter as people preferred to stay in the warmth of their homes rather than braving the cold, wet and windy winter weather. But this year it was different and just about everybody turned up for Marissa’s ‘Dave Annis Night.’ She had promised that girls were going to be tied up just as they were in Dave Annis’s drawings All the girls were given a number as they arrived. I got #13 – Mandi said that it was a lucky number, but I wasn’t too sure. Once the night got under way Marissa drew a number out of a hat. Number 7” she announced. “Come up here Number 7.” A pert brunette went up on the stage. Marissa had printed out a selection of Dave Annis’s bondage drawings and had numbered each one. Number 7 was a drawing of a girl tied to a chair wearing nothing other than a large ball gag and head harness. There was no shortage of volunteers to strip #7. Soon they had her tightly bound and gagged just like the girl in the drawing. She was to remain tied up for the rest of the night. ...

Part 1 – How did I get into this? I opened my eyes. It was eerily silent. A coal blackness filled the room. There was a chill in the air. What was the time? How long had it been since I fell asleep? It could have been hours; but it was probably a lot less. I tried to move but the girls had made a far too good a job of tying me. Even so, I struggled yet again but all the knots were far from the reach of my searching fingers. My muscles and joints had long since stopped aching; now there was just a dull ache through my whole body. ...

“Now that sounds like an interesting idea.” Said Mandi when it was suggested that we try bondage using leather straps instead of our usual ties using rope or duct tape. The only problem was that we did not have any leather straps. As we both were bordering on being stony broke at the time, there was little chance of either of us dashing off to the nearby store where we usually got our bondage gear to buy a selection of leather straps. ...

Pete was had been coming along to our Bondage Club for over a year but in all that time he had never been tied up. He was a very popular member and his forté was as a Top. His ropework was by far the best and the most creative of all the members. However earlier this year a number of the girls got together and decided that it was about time that they reversed the tables. But how? He was fairly tall and had an athletic build, so tying him up was going to be a challenge. We decided that the best tactic was to get him in a relaxed mood and catch him off guard and then the whole gang of us would take him by surprise and overpower him. But we had to arrange all the bondage gear we needed to be close at hand at the critical moment and everyone had to know exactly what they were to do. It was his birthday on the day of the next meeting so we decided to throw him a party and do the deed then. ...

Molly was stressed out. Working a full time job while simultaneously taking night classes tended to have that effect on people. With the little time off she had, she often spent it cooped up in her apartment watching TV or browsing the web. During one of her searches, she came across a nearby boutique that had just opened in her area that claimed to specialize in a new facial scrub and body wrap combo that was guaranteed to be unforgettable. To Molly, it sounded like the perfect type of thing to get all the stress out of her system. If only she had the time… ...

It all started with that damned Hitachi. I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with my Magic Wand, loving the sensations but stopping immediately after cumming because I quickly felt over-stimulated. I knew about multiple orgasms but had never experienced it. For a long time I’d wondered what it would feel like to have the vibrator forced on me, to find out what lay beyond that point where I got spooked by the intensity and stopped. I wanted to push beyond, but always chickened out. ...

story continued from part one Part 2 It had been a few weeks since our last adventure with Lynn. Like she had agreed to every time she did some self-bondage she would tell Rick. She has not had to use him to get loose because her releases have worked and Rick had been a perfect gentleman and not messed with her when she was tied up. Lynn was having mixed feeling about this. She is glad that he respects her privacy but she also enjoyed the time when he caught her. She was also mad at herself for not having the courage to talk to him about it. She was trying figure out a good way to get his attention when the mailman came with a package. Lynn was really excited because she had forgotten she ordered the items and it had to be made to order. She had figured out how she was going to get Rick’s attention. ...

Lucy, a first year microbiology student, had organised a flat party at the weekend and the theme was beach party. It didn’t matter to anyone that it was the middle of winter, in fact that probably made it all the more fun, dressing up in beach wear, or bikinis and speedos if you were brave enough! It was one of her best parties ever; the beer, wine and cheap spirits flowed on and on. It was well into daylight the next morning before the party died and the guests had gone home. The mess left behind was too much to deal with when so wasted, so Lucy decided to leave it until she got up later on. She shared with two other girls but they were away staying with their boyfriends that weekend so the mess wouldn’t matter for a little while she figured. That afternoon though they were due to have the fortnightly flat inspection by the complex caretaker, to make sure they weren’t wrecking the place and also for any routine maintenance or cleaning that was required. Lucy was passed out on the lounge sofa, gone to the world she was still only dressed in her skimpy bikini, which did little to hide her generous assets, in fact her large natural breasts had fallen out of her top during the night! The caretaker, after ringing the doorbell a few times, let herself in with her master keys. As soon as she walked in she was hit with the smell of take-away food, cigarettes and booze. This was going to be one of those flats she silently thought to herself, why don’t these students grow up? She checked around the hallway, empty pizza boxes, beer cans and glasses everywhere. Then she went to the bathrooms; the floors wet, she dared not think of what with, and the sinks blocked with sick. Surely this was the worst she had ever seen in her years, what sort of animals were these people? The caretaker went to check out the rest of the flat, the bedrooms didn’t seem as bad but still not great either. It was when she got to the lounge she got the biggest shock, the room was an absolute tip. Glasses everywhere, dishes and pizza boxes on the floor, spilt ash trays, random stains and spillages. This would definitely eat into their deposit. It was then she spotted Lucy, still asleep on the sofa, tits hanging out of her top. She watched her, her chest rising up and down, the drool dribbling from her mouth. She felt no pity for her, only disgust. She picked up a glass of wine and poured it over the girl. Lucy moved her face to the side but still didn’t wake up. This infuriated the caretaker even more; a young girl shouldn’t get into this kind of state, unable to defend herself. The caretaker went away and fetched some cleaning supplies, she didn’t enjoy cleaning up the flats but it was part of her duties and knew the students wouldn’t lift a finger to help. When she came back she spent hours cleaning the flat, the bags of trash piling up, the caretaker had cleaned the bathrooms and all the bedrooms, now all that was left was the kitchen and lounge. The kitchen and lounge were more or less one open plan room, the first being tiled and the second being carpeted. The girl, Lucy, was still asleep. The caretaker couldn’t believe it, after all the racket she had made cleaning up around her. The caretaker looked the girl up and down. She was drooling again from her mouth, her tits hanging out of her top and…. she looked like she had wet herself too! This girl really is trash. Well, it was time for her to be treated like trash! The caretaker got an extra-large bin bag from her supplies and opened it up on the floor beside the girl. She pulled out several regular bags and tied the girl’s ankles, knees and wrists together. Looking down at the girl she was satisfied she was secure, but not gagged. It then hit her, the bikini bottoms! She pulled on her gloves before untying the bikini bottoms; they were still wet and sticky. Carefully she manipulated the girl’s mouth open, slowly and gently pushing them into her mouth. Feeling that there was still a lot of space in her mouth, she needed something else. The bikini top was the obvious choice, close to hand and even more degrading for her to be totally naked. Unfastening her top she could help herself but to cup both breasts in her hands, to feel them and stroke them. She could see the nipples becoming erect. She never considered herself lesbian but she couldn’t help but find herself enjoying playing with this girl’s ample chest. The girl let out a soft moan, the caretaker backed away a little. Standing still she waited until the girl settled again. Once satisfied she was the caretaker fashioned a ball gag out of another bin liner by tying one in a double knot in the middle, then pushed it into the girls mouth and tying it behind her head. The girls’ cheeks were bulging with her own wet bikini and the bin bag; there was no chance she’d be able to call out. The caretaker lowered her feet first off the sofa into the bin bag; she folded the girl’s long soft legs under herself so that she was sat on them and then eased her body down forward. She pulled the bag up until it reached the girls shoulders, but then thought she needs to fill the bag up too, and the girl should be awake for this… The caretaker slapped the girls in the face until she was wide awake, and sore! ….. Lucy’s head was pounding, her eyes couldn’t focus, and that taste in her mouth! She tried to stretch out, but she couldn’t move, her legs and arms seemed pinned together. She tried to think, to figure it out, it didn’t make any sense. “Finally awake, you trashy bitch!!” The caretaker stood before Lucy, legs astride, hands on hips. God she looked pissed off! “A right bloody state you left this flat in, it’s taken me hours to get it straight again, all I have to do now is clean the living room and the kitchen, and I only have one bag left, yours!” Lucy’s eyes went wide; surely she can’t be serious, could she? Her question was soon answered. The caretaker came towards her bag, “Such a waste, all this food, still it’s garbage now”, She opened Lucy’s bag and poured all the food in, a mixture of crisps, pasta, chicken drumsticks, sausage rolls, everything a good party should have. Lucy watched as it rained down on her, bouncing and sliding off her body before resting around her legs. Then the caretaker brought over some drinks, open cans of beer and half-drunk bottles of wine. Holding them high she poured them over Lucy’s naked body, Lucy’s eyes looked up pleading for mercy, but none was given. Lucy’s body was soaked in booze, her hair plastered down onto her head and the mixture sloshed around her legs. The caretaker put the empties into the recycling boxes, which looked suspiciously very clean, like they had never been used before. She looked around for what else to put in the bag, there were lots of old newspapers and magazines lying around which would do just fine. The caretaker gathered them up and one by one she scrunched up the papers, she pushed them into the bag all around the naked girl until they reached around her breasts. Lucy could feel the rough paper scraping against her soft skin, the jagged edges poking her nipples. She looked down and was shocked to see her nipples becoming erect! For all the humiliation her body was enjoying this… treatment! The papers and food were slowly absorbing the liquids and becoming mushy all around her, she could feel it squelching in between her thighs. The caretaker hadn’t finished yet though; she looked around for more to put in the bag. She spotted a dirty laundry bag in the cupboard next to the kitchen; she pulled it up next to Lucy’s bag and start to empty the contents into the trash bag. T-shirts, shorts, pants & bras, they filled the bag up to Lucy’s face until the caretaker paused for a moment. The caretaker leaned down over her and pulled a stocking over her head, followed by another, and then another…when she was done Lucy’s features were almost invisible under the layers of black nylon. The caretaker filled the rest of the bag and then unceremoniously pulled the sides together at the top and tied it together. Inside Lucy had watched as the final layers had grown around her, she had tried to struggle but she was too tightly tied. She had tried to call out but all that had come out was a faint “mmnpph”, no-one would hear that. So she had resigned herself to watching the trash being dumped on her, she was starting to wish she had led a tidier less wasteful life. Now she had no choice but to join her own trash. Her bag now full the caretaker pulled the drawstrings tight around her neck, tying the ends securely. Pulling the bag shut squeezed the trash tighter against her naked body; she felt less like a person and more like just another content of the bag, another piece of trash. The caretaker satisfied the flat was now back to being respectably clean she packed away all of her cleaning equipment, all that was left of the mess was a big pile of trash bags that needed to be disposed of… She hadn’t really thought of it as she started but she had crossed a line there was no coming back from, she couldn’t let the girl go now, she’d blab and she would lose her job and most like end up with a criminal record. She had to finish the job, trash was trash and she needed to be treated and disposed of as such. She dragged the bagged up girl out from the flat and along the corridor to the lift, once down to the ground level she pulled her out the back fire exit to where the complex skips were. The skips were kept together in a row at the back lower than the path so all you had to do was lift up the lid and drop your trash down. Rolling the bag of trash into the skip she barely gave it a second thought as it fell into the half empty void, a couple more trips and she had disposed of all the trash, only a few more flats to check and clean before I’m done for the week and can go off for the weekend! Tbc…?

Why did you kidnap me and turn me into your sex fantasy? What was it that made you target me? Was it my long blonde hair and blue eyes? My wholesome good looks? My perky breasts? My lean dancer’s legs? Why me and not one of the thousands of other similar girls out on their own trying to make it in Hollywood? Was I somehow special, or was I just in the wrong place at the wrong time? ...

A long day.. It was mid spring a beautiful day and I had arranged with a girl I met online to have a little bondage fun. I had only met her once before as I was invited to her house for coffee and to talk about what I would like her to do to me. The next time I saw her, one week later, I took a big risk on trusting her and the scenario was for her to take me anywhere of her choosing and chain me up naked and tease me and whip me etc. I had told her about the time I was abandonened and that I had enjoyed it and suggested I wouldn’t mind if she left me for as short time. ...

We’d been going out for several months when I found out about Hank. I’d wondered why he liked to hold my hands over my head when we made love. And I noticed he liked backing up against a tree or a light pole, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me. One afternoon we were on the floor in my kitchen, Hank on his back, me kneeling astride. I leaned forward to kiss him while grabbing his wrists and holding them over his head, like he did to me. He immediately became hard under me and his kisses became almost frantic. ...

Non-consensual, Public Nudity, Public Spanking, Public Sex, Public Exhibition, Oral, Anal, Cabaret Setting = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = What is the cost of any port in a storm during a blizzard? Winters in Northern Iowa can get pretty brutal when the wind is from the west and the moisture is coming in from the south. The resulting blizzards can shut down everything– except, as Mandy would soon discover, Big Jake’s Erotic Emporium. It is there that she finds herself the center of attention during a Midwest blizzard. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * ...

It had been the mid state regionals, and we lost badly, I having about the best view of our embarrassing rout as I was the goal keeper that day. Many opposing teams would have held back once the game had been decided in the spirit of sportsmanship, but the Panthers and our own team had a rather long history with each other, as did our schools in general. The score was fifteen to three by the time it was all over and the referee mercifully blew his whistle, not all that terrible a score if the game had been college softball, but it wasn’t. ...

story continues from part one Part 2 I looked around the boiler room again, hoping against hope to find my clothes. No such luck was to be mine. The only cloth I found was a dirty red mechanic’s rag, that would barely cover my crotch. I stood looking at the items on the work bench. Well, what an idiot I was, there on the bench were my car keys, and parked right next to the building was my car. I didn’t have to dodge my way bush to tree all the way across town after all, I could drive home in comfort. ...

This is a side story to the trashy adventures of David and Christine. (This story is based on a fantasy our good friend malus infantia confessed to me and asked me to write. He seemed to have been quite inspired by our lovely trash queen, Jennifer. Hope you enjoy. - This story is told from the perspective of Jennifer.) “Yeah, yeah, she’s still here.” I’m sitting on my couch, my legs crossed as I talk on the phone to Christine. my slave, Rebecca, massages my feet. It had been a rather long day collecting garbage, and I didn’t get to play with any of it. At least I’ll be able to take my frustration out on my pretty little garbage slave. ...

(story continues from The Bones In The Dungeon 7) Part 8: Final Betrayal Part One I slept well with the self satisfying feeling that I had done the right thing, despite my regrets at trapping the devious bookworm in the cell next to mine for all eternity. My former ghostly dungeon master had recovered my magical book from it’s hiding place in the palace library on Halloween, the one day of the year when he could, and it was with this that I freed the real Beth Eckhart and trapped the bookworm whose body I claimed for myself. She had earned her fate with how badly she had treated me, and her revealed true intentions to steal the castle and it’s wealth for her own purposes. Henry would never know how close he came to loosing his family estate, nor of my many torments with the effects of the magical seal put on my tongue by the oath I foolishly made to the bookworm in her Beth Eckhart persona. ...

**Author’s note. This story is based on an image on the scenario that can be found on BoundAnna.com site called ‘A Game For 2’.** This story follows on from “I Need Help”. It had been some months since my neighbour, Andrea, had come to my help when I had got pathetically stuck at my first attempt at self bondage, following my discovery that Andrea was an experienced practitioner at the art. We had since become bondage partners, helping to tie up and photograph each other. Andrea showed me different and safe techniques of how to tie myself up and release mechanisms. I had even uploaded photos to self bondage websites, with the user name of ’envirotied’. I had grown in confidence practising bondage. ...

Hi everyone. This is fiction, one of my many little fantasies. But given the chance, just maybe I would try it for real! I’m sitting in the center of the back seat of a town car, naked, as we drive slowly through the city. I’m sweating, nervous because of my nudity, but that’s not all. My arms are outstretched along the back of the seat, cuffs on my wrists holding them in place. No matter how I tug or pull they won’t move, and I can’t use them to cover up at all! Not being able to bring my arms across me makes me feel even more naked than just being naked, if that makes any sense. And out here in the car, I feel that way even more! ...

Her back chat and defiance was starting to really piss him off. He had tried punishing her by spanking her bare arse from time to time. Though as much as she complained he was sure she was beginning to rather enjoy this form of discipline. Possibly even wearing the bruises the next day as some kind of bizarre trophy. Though even if that was indeed the case surely she was struggling at work sitting on such a sore arse. He wondered if her work colleagues were noticing her flinch each time she sat down on a chair. He certainly hoped so as humiliation was one form of punishment she truly hated. ...

I opened the door. Mick walked in trailing a girl. “I come bearing gifts: libation and decoration,” he said handing me the bottle and nodding at the girl. He clapped me on the back. “Happy holidays, Bro.” “Back at ya.” “This is Shelly.” “Hi.” “Hello, Shelly.” “Man! Something smells good.” “Bird will be out in about an hour. Just have to do a bit of last minute decorating.” We were in the kitchen. I unwrapped the bottle. Vodka. Some obscure name I’d never heard of, much less pronounce. I splashed a couple of shots into glasses, we tossed them back, then I poured a couple of doubles on the rocks. ...

“Rebecca! What is this?” Sprawled on her bed, Beck glanced up from her tablet. Mrs. Henderson stood at her bedroom door, gazing at the room with horror in her eyes. “Are any of your clothes actually put away?” she asked, gesturing toward the clothing heaped around the room. “It’s ok, Mrs. H.,” Becky said calmly. “I know where most of it is.” “That’s not the point,” Mrs. Henderson replied. “Clothing should be neatly folded and put in your dresser, or neatly hanging in your closet. It shouldn’t be dumped onto a chair, and it certainly shouldn’t be dumped on the floor. The closet fairy is not going to like this one bit.” ...

This story is a fantasy; it takes place in another place, and in another time. The future is not always the way we envision it, it may be better, it may be worse; it may be skewed into another reality all together. In this world, consensual torture for the sake of personal advancement is the reality…. NO fictional characters were seriously injured, maimed or forced to do housework this adventure! Or were they. . . ...

The sun finally came out after I had finished having a bath. I was doing everything I couldn’t normally. I had a lie in and a long breakfast and now the clouds had cleared, perfect. I didn’t get a lot of sun because of all the trees around my little house but just about eleven there was a patch on the lawn which lasted until about four. I had waited all year doing extra time so I could have this holiday. I wanted to begin by getting some sun on my body. Playing could wait. ...

“Halt!” Shuffling along the dusty trail, the young man in the furs and armor stopped and gazed upwards. Above him, cliffs towered on both sides of the trail. Shading his eyes, he gazed at the tops of the cliffs, then continued forward. “I said halt!” Again, the youth halted and gazed upwards. “Or what?” he asked. “Or I’ll skewer you.” “Skewer? As in shoot me with an arrow?” “Umm, no.” ...

Devin’s trip across town to her friend Sophie’s house was a bit more of a challenge than usual that Saturday morning. A freak early spring snowstorm was making streets a bit slippery. Still, this was a special day, and she was determined that the weather would not deter their plans. For years, the two of them had bet on their gym’s annual instructors’ competition. The bet was always paid off at the post-competition party at Sophie’s house, and this year for the first time in five years, Sophie had won. Therefore, she would be at her friends’ mercy for the rest of the day. She knew some but not all of the details of what was going to happen to her. In a way she was thankful the snow was making her concentrate on her driving as she couldn’t think about what was ahead. She trusted Sophie and all the others so was not at all nervous – only curious. The two of them occasionally tied each other up and even had a set of punishments for conduct deemed detrimental to their friendship. For this they had acquired a good supply of equipment. Though she would never admit it to anyone, not even herself, she was glad to be on the paying end of the bet for a change. Deep inside she was very submissive by nature and really didn’t enjoy being on top. She also loved the attention that the loser got. ...

It was cooler and darker inside the barn, the light from the huge hanger like door only reached so far. Our barn stretched the whole length of the back of the house with stable doors at one end and a makeshift office at the other. The light from the hanger door lit the middle of the barn where most of the tools were kept. I always loved being in the barn in summer, it smelled sweet from the hay kept for when Molly and Bess were inside. Today I could smell the saddles too, the earthy, rich smell of the leather. The two saddles stood side by side on stout saw horses, gleaming slightly, a deep chestnut brown. ...

Carly, a bio-sentient computer assistant, hates her job. This story is weird, fairly mild, and set in the distant future where semi-autonomous computers run complex mining and manufacturing stations on large asteroids orbiting various solar systems. The story starts rather slowly in order to set up the world in which Carly lives. Its category is somewhere between machine and auto-erotic and will probable appeal primarily to geekettes and those who love geekettes… or perhaps those who love those from Sol-15 who have blue skin. ...

After winning some tickets online, you were on a tour, with a couple of other people, going around a huge chocolate factory that was fully automated, even the robot tour guide that was now leading you past a large glass window looking down on the factory floor and you can see all the conveyors and tanks and machines, it looked like something out of HOP and you also notice an unlocked door next to the window and this tour was far too boring. ...

Don was in his late forties, still good looking, with a firm toned body. Having lived and breathed computers from an early age he had been asked to head up a new, but small research faculty at Fort Lauderdale in Florida, to explore what was possible in the world of virtual reality and cyber space. To help him he had a young woman who had just graduated. As well as being an attractive young woman, Sharon was very adventurous and always making suggestions regarding what she would like to experience in the virtual world. Don’s task was to develop a system that would be compact and as realistic as possible. Current systems involved the use of large goggles and awkward gloves, with participants having to stand or move around in order to get some form of realistic effect. ...

Cast: Dana Miller: MIT grad sub Dana is a 24-year-old genus and sometimes call “Computer Goddess.” She graduated MIT at the age of 16 with a double Doctorates in computer security and programming. Despite being a “super nerd” she also spent time working out and staying in shape. In fact, under her nerdy behavior and glasses she was a very attractive well-proportioned woman. Between her long black hair, brown eyes and her C sized breast she was a sight when she dressed up. Despite the high paying job, she got right out of college she was not happy. ...

(story continues from Girl Time 2: Demonstration) Girl Time 3: Decisions Carol awoke to a room beginning to brighten with the light of morning. For a moment, she glanced around the room, her eyes eventually coming to rest on the bed. Her friends lay as she’d last seen them. Sandy, her body still stretched by the ropes that bound her limbs to the bed’s corner posts, snored softly. Beside her, wrists and ankles cuffed, the chains intertwined in a way that held her heels close to her ass, Myra lay face down, her face snuggled into the shorter woman’s shoulder. Both, obviously, were still sound asleep. ...

Ed: We’d been into bondage for a long time, since the start of our relationship. And it wasn’t long before bondage was more than just part of sex play. The evenings and weekends would see Sue restrained one way or another - sometimes simply a pair of handcuffs, other times a full hogtie and harness gag. Sue: Finding someone to share my fantasies with was as much a relief as it was excitement. Years of secret thoughts and clumsy, awkward scenes fell away when we met. Not that is happened right away, it took time to build trust and experience for both of us, but we understood each other. ...

(This story is mostly true and told with only slight embellishments to make it a better read. Above all, please play safe…) It was to be an unseasonably warm two days before the upcoming winter, and between hunting seasons in my part of the world, and therefore a tempting opportunity for a last outdoor adventure before winter set in. I had played outside in the dead of winter as well when the conditions were right on the weekends, but this was to be a mid work week after my shift ordeal… ...

First a little bit about myself. I am a heterosexual male in my mid 30’s and I am an average height of 5ft 10 and weight of around 180lb. I live with my girlfriend in our own home in a typical western town. My sex life is good but not kinky that often. I love my girlfriend dearly and while she knows of my kinky side it’s not often I get to tie her up or get tied up by her. ...

Hi my name is Laura I am a sub and have been instructed to send some of my reports that incorporate self bondage. This morning, I wasn’t working, day off and started about doing some housework. It’s chaos around here at the moment and having about keeping up with housework the house tends to get dusty and horrible. Not to mention the dog coming in and out of the house with wet or dirty paws. Anyway in the morning I received instructions via sms from hubby to open all the curtains and blinds in the front of the house and strip naked, which I immediately obliged. I love being naked around the home. ...

Hi my name is Laura I am a sub and have been instructed to send some of my reports that incorporate self bondage. When I first got out of bed this morning I checked my email as per normal and there was an email waiting for me from my new online Master. There were several requests through his email. The first one was to wear my black leather collar and have my ben wah balls inserted in my pussy. Then to remain naked whilst doing my housework and stopping every hour to place myself on display in the front window of our house. This was to be done by bending over the back of a lounge chair with my ass and pussy facing the window. Then the second request was to ring someone from our BDSM swingers club and invite him over as well as one extra person of their choosing. Before they arrive I was to place myself in bondage spreadeagle on the bed with an egg vibrator giving me forced orgasms. They were to fuck and use me for as long as they wanted and only allowed to cum in my mouth. ...

Hi my name is Laura I am a sub and have been instructed to send some of my reports that incorporate self bondage. I had spent quite some time chatting to another fetlifer Thanatos_s regarding what I could expect if I manage to get to Portland next year. I was getting so turned on by all the possibilities that he can arrange for my trip that by the end of the afternoon I was as horny as hell. I needed to be fucked good and proper. I was getting desperate for it. Hubby was away once again with work and not sure whether he was coming home soon. I know I have a couple of dildos and vibrators but it just doesn’t substitute the real thing. ...

Hi my name is Laura I am a sub and have been instructed to send some of my reports that incorporate self bondage. 23NOV2015 This took a couple of days for my online Master to organise this inconjunction with an old friend of mine who works at the same hospital as I do. My Husband had gone away with his work once again and my new Master organised an encounter with my friend, someone I can really trust as well as an extra friend of his. There was going to be another women but she pulled out at the last minute. My instructions were quite detailed and explicit for the preparation. The time of the encounter had been arranged for 5.00pm. ...

(story continues from The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 4: Christine’s Party) Book 5: David Screws Up I’m not exactly sure what I’ve done. All I know is I’ve done SOMETHING to upset Christine. Cause, now, I find myself trapped, tied up in Jennifer’s now empty personal trash compactor. My mouth is free of a gag, mostly cause Christine knows I won’t call for help. Not that it would do any good anyway. ...

There was a new villain plaguing Gotham City, a prankster called Sissyboy. People assumed that he was a protegé of the Joker, because whenever one of his pranks distracted people, the Joker and his henchclowns took advantage of the confusion to pull off one of their capers. It seemed as if Sissyboy could work a strange kind of magic. On one occasion the poles holding streetlights turned to rubber and sagged into the street, blocking traffic. On another occasion the walls of the shower rooms at the Gotham City Country Club turned to the clearest of glass. And during the consequent disruptions the Joker and his crew, cleverly disguised as ordinary people, performed a little magic of their own by making money and jewelry disappear. ...

This is the journal of a young man named Micah who volunteered for a clinical study that changed his life for good. He never expected to be subjected to such depraved, twisted, and bizarre practices when he went to The Rubber Lab. Day 1 - The Ad The ad read: “Healthy male volunteers needed for 28-day inpatient study. Qualified participants will be compensated up to $20,000, and is free of all federal and state taxes. Participants can’t have a latex allergy. Must inquire within. Mention study 1028” ...

Hi my name is Laura I am a sub and have been instructed to send some of my reports that incorporate self bondage. Chapter 1: Husbands hard end of a day This was at the request of Master Jonas to carry out this task I had been busy all day catching up with housework and some odd jobs outside in the garden. I had been naked for the whole day. Being inside the house or outside in the back yard naked tends to arouse me, turning me on. I think it may be a sense of vulnerability, the chance of being caught and not being able to do anything about it. Our local postman who is always delivering parcels to our front door has gotten use to the fact that I am usually answering the door naked that he no longer batters an eyelid. ...

Part One I push open the heavy front door with some effort… the hinges hadn’t been oiled for a while and the door had little use for the last year. Once in the front the hall, I dropped my bags and pushed door shut, I’d finish unloading the car later. The hall was clean, with just a little dust and you could see a few patches on the walls where furniture and pictures had been. It was a large old house, on expansive grounds, well back for the road. It had been owned by the parents of my friends, Jennifer, who had passed away the year before. Jennifer was travelling overseas and I had volunteered to help with the house, making sure the few remaining items of furniture were picked up and removed and the house was clean and ready for sale. ...

story continues from part two Part 3: Lauren & Nilma She opened her eyes expecting everything to be blurred, indistinct, sleep muddled. No. Everything was bitter-sweet needle-sharp. Vibrant colours and shimmering detail instantly snapped into focus. Too much detail, too much light, too many sounds. She was lying on pile of rubble, remains of broken walls around her, open sky above and a strong cold wind on her skin. She hadn’t been outside the Hotel in years. Sun, wind, sky, she’d forgotten what they looked like. Her world had been stillness, black and white, dimmed lights, sterile corridors, plastic and rubber. The outside, with its light, and its weather, and strange sounds was too much to process, so she put it aside. Putting things aside was eminently possible. ...

(story continues from The Reinvention of the Masked Man 2) Chapter 3 It had been two weeks since the capture and sale of the retired USMC Captain, suspected of being a gold digger. Bud had vowed it would be their last abduction, largely because of the urging of Donna. Bud had announced earlier that Donna would be punished for her self-confessed infidelity, that being she had sex with another male. The punishment was to be a visit to a dominatrix, and a requirement that Donna would wear a GPS monitor at all times, permitting Bud to keep track of her movements. ...

Here’s a story told in the first person from the female’s point of view. - Julien I’m lying on a conveyor belt. I’m on my back, and I’m completely naked. I can’t move any part of my body - all I can do is stare at the ceiling. The conveyor belt is taking me somewhere. Sometimes I pass under a reflective surface and catch a glimpse of myself, staring into space with no expression, totally exposed. ...

Author’s Note: I would like to thank those who helped proofread this work, and I especially appreciate Dannysuling (dannysuling.deviantart.com) and f-alexander (f-alexander.deviantart.com) for their valuable editorial contributions. Prologue From 2002-2005, Courtney Artison’s image was unavoidable in any grocery check-out line. She was the undisputed queen of the tabloids. Virtually every gossip magazine published a photograph of her with some insane headline, like “Courtney Secretly Gives Birth to Triplets! Uses Body Double to Hide Weight Gain!” or “Courtney’s Mystery Illness and Her Deathbed Confession!” ...

story continued from part 14 Chapter 15: Cassandra Takes Beth Cassandra sat in front of the dressing table in her bedroom, wearing nothing but a dressing gown! After her first session as a Dominant, she had rushed back to her bedroom and taken quick shower to remove the sweat she had produced while whipping Beth! She knew that Beth was now being prepared by Kate for her night’s pleasure! Mistress Allison had complimented her for the way she had whipped Beth, delivering the right amount of strokes, and varying their intensity! ...

story continued from part 15 Chapter 16: The Bonds of Money It was the third week in a row that Beth had gone to lunch with her friend Valerie Newman. Cassandra had helped her dress, and had watched her leave the Mansion, leaving her alone for the day with Mistress Allison and Kate. Once Beth had left the Mansion, and Cassandra had watched her BMW leave on the long driveway towards the electronically controlled gate; did Cassandra finally summon the courage to see Mistress Allison. ...

story continued from part 16 Chapter 17: The Bondage Evaluation When Cassandra was finally able to tear herself away from seeing how the Black PVC Catsuit hugged every curve of her body, Kate escorted her down to the Library where Mistress Allison was waiting! After knocking and gaining entrance, she found that both Beth and Valerie were now naked, collared, and wearing nothing but bondage bracelets and high heels. They were both kneeling in front of Mistress Allison’s Library desk. ...

story continued from part 17 Chapter 18: Winning The Lottery The next day, after Cassandra had released Valerie, it was her turn to bathe and prepare her guest. Valerie was soon wearing the “O” dress just like Beth, and the two women would spend the day together. Cassandra again wore her Maid’s uniform, but Mistress Allison did not lock the collar around her neck. She wondered why, but did not ask. Mistress Allison did not do anything without a reason, so she knew that whatever the cause, she would discover it later. ...

story continued from part 18 Chapter 19: Epilogue Valerie Newman lay on her belly, bound to the leather footstool in the Library. The day before, while wearing a Latex Maid’s uniform, she had cleaned and oiled the Black Leather piece of furniture. Now she was naked, her limbs tied to the footstool with rope, and cinched tightly! There would be no escape until she was released, and that would not happen before Cassandra had her way with her! ...

Part 2: Marissa’s Story Author’s Note: This story, “Precious Marissa: Marissa” is penned as a stand-alone story and as a companion story for “Precious Marissa”. As the original was written from Kevin’s point-of-view, this version relates the story from Marissa’s point-of-view. Having two stories tell the same tale but from separate sets of eyes may be a style I incorporate more if people let me know that the writing style is interesting. I know I write long stories and sometimes fill them with more background and detail than some of you readers prefer, but, I am too detail-oriented of an individual to fully pull away from my character development. I feel that this style will allow me to create stories which are complete on their own or can be enjoyed as a collective to fully grasp each character being their own protagonist. Only you, the reader, can let me know if you enjoy the style…so…please do. Thank you. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Gloria has a different interpretation of The Forbidden Book What would you do if you knew that a book that everyone else thought was mindless pornography was actually a communications handbook? If you ain’t a Sci-Fi Geek, you ain’t going to like this one. Mild erotica, but very interesting Sci-Fi concept. ...

The bondage Kara and Sarah had placed themselves in was very elaborate, restrictive, unyielding, inescapable, and, most of all, uncomfortable and painful. Its inescapability was temporary by the use of a timer system and would eventually be removed from the equation. As would the painful element as it too was part of the timing system and would be disarmed once the timer reached zero. The rest would work itself out as the girls were able to free themselves. Kara and Sarah were both on their knees, ass to ass to one another, on the rack in their basement. Both had leather cuffs on their ankles locked to the smooth and lustrous wood top of the rack. A leather strap was also secured tightly behind the bend of their knees, holding their legs splayed wide and secure. Their thighs were held tightly together with leather straps just above their knees and high on their thighs, ensuring they could not separate themselves from each other. Straps tightened around each of the girl’s waists and connected by another strap gave final insurance they could not pull themselves apart. Being so tightly and securely bound with their asses together ensured the double-headed dildos in their pussies and rectums maintained full penetration and kept them impaled upon each other. Both the anal and vaginal dildos were bipolar electro-stimulation devices, each end working independently of the other. Their wrists were cuffed behind them and to each-other’s wrist cuffs by a loose strap. The strap between their wrists attached to a hoist system which pulled their wrists uncomfortably high. The hoist was their release system. Once the timer run down, the hoist would lower and allow the girls arms to lower to their waists and reach the keys attached to their waist belts and remove their wrist cuffs. Both girls had eight labia rings, a clitoral ring, and, nipple rings. The labial rings on each side was connected by wires, the top rings having wires running to a micro-switch mounted to the wooden table. Each girl’s nipple rings were also connected to micro-switches. The wires leading to the micro-switches each had about a quarter-inch of slack and if either girl moved enough to pull the wire taut, the micro-switch would close and cause a very painful electric shock to each of their metal rings; however, not to the one that closed the circuit, but, to the other girl’s rings. If Kara closed the circuit, Sarah would get a nasty and painful shock to her labial, clitoral, and nipple rings along with an equally painful shock deep in her vagina and ass. Visa-versa should Sarah be the one to activate the circuit. This usually leading to a vicious cycle as the shock would make the recipient buck and activate the other girl’s circuit. Both girls were hooded, gagged, blindfolded, and, bud-style earphones filling their ears with white-noise deafening them of any other sound. Kara and Sarah were completely cut off from communication with each other, and, any attempt in communication was picked up by microphones embedded in the hoods locking collar. Any sound picked up by the microphone also activated the torturous shock, however, no matter who made the sound, both girls were punished. Without any form of communication with each other it was up to both Kara and Sarah to have the will to still themselves against the pain in order to stop a vicious torture cycle once one begun. The torture cycles started quite frequent as almost any movement by either girl to try to ease the painful pull on their shoulders or any other discomfort of their bondage would take up the miniscule amount of slack in the wires and close the circuit, sending painful shocks and starting another cycle of shock induced bucks. Their bondage was not all pain however. When the two girls were able to keep from tripping pain-inducing zaps of electricity, the electricity sent into their bodies produced very sensual and pleasing tingles. The dildos in their vagina’s and asses felt like they were slowly moving in and out, their clits feeling like they were being softly stroked and caressed, their labia being softly fingered, and their nipples being sucked with an occasional mild bite thrown in here and there. During the girls testing of the sensual shocks they had found both could easily and quickly be brought to orgasm. The girls found this to be a double-edged sword however as neither of them was able to have a quiet orgasm. They found as they fell deeper into the throughs of lust, their vocal cords had a mind of their own and would activate the microphones shock and break both of their orgasmic cycles with torturously painful electrical shock. During one of these cycles however, Sarah had been so close to orgasm that the painful shock forced her into a violent and loud orgasm and Kara paid the price. The screams Sarah produced during her orgasm shocked both girls, only seeming to strengthen and prolong Sarah’s orgasm. Sarah continued to buck and shake long after her vocal cords had quieted pulling on the wires and shocking Kara long after Sarah’s own shocks had stopped. Kara had wanted to make Sarah pay for her pain but knew if a cycle of ‘revenge movements’ was begun; they could both be in pain during the whole session. Kara did not want that, nor to be the cause of it, so she stilled herself as best she could so they could both get back to the pleasure shocks. They had agreed six-hours would be a difficult but manageable amount of time for their session. As none of the cycles run in timed intervals and were solely reactionary to the girls’ sound and movements, the amount of time which had elapsed in their torturous bondage was impossible to calculate with any accuracy. Six-hours-forty-five minutes after the time they started their session, an email would be sent to their unwitting backup. The girls figured forty-five minutes gave them plenty of time to release themselves and stop the email from being sent. As the email system was independent of the timer system, they felt it to be a reliable backup. * * * * * At 5:45 in the afternoon, Stephen’s phone notified him that he had an email marked URGENT from Sarah’s email account. Stephen opened the message… Stephen, If you have received this email, then Kara and I are probably in a very bad situation and desperately need your help. It could be a matter of life and death. This plea is VERY SERIOUS and I sincerely ask that you help us out IMMEDIATELY! I know you have not been to our house. The address is 19955 El Dorado Drive. GPS it and you will find it without a problem. When you get here, you can find the door key in a plastic key-box buried under the fourth rock to the right of the walkway. It will open both locks on the door. Upon entering, there will be stairwell to the right of the door which leads to the basement. The key-code to the door is 55991. Yes, the house number in reverse. Believe me, we will be as mortified by you finding us as you will be surprised. We hope you understand. Both Kara and myself will be forever in your debt for your help! Sarah Stephen had to reread the email over a couple times. The fact that Sarah said it could be a matter of life and death scared him into action. He had only met Kara a couple of times but had made love to Sarah when they were young and she was still trying to figure out her sexuality. It hurt Stephen when she decided she enjoyed sex with women more than she did with men, but, they still remained friends and he cared for her deeply. Stephen did not want harm to befall his ex-lover nor her new lover. Stephen entered the address into his phones GPS. The drive would take him about fifteen-minutes. It was in a part of town he was not familiar with but was savvy to the neighborhood and it meant that Kara must be quite well off. Sarah was from the same side of the tracks as he was and knew she could not afford to live in that area any more than he could. Stephen drove like the devil was on his tail… * * * * * The email Sarah had composed to Stephen had; due to the improper setup of the auto-email program; been sent two-hours earlier than it should have. Kara and Sarah’s programmed bondage session was not set to end until 7:00 pm and the email wasn’t supposed to be sent until forty-five minutes after that. However, Sarah forgot to take into consideration the programs default time-zone being Central Time and had never reset it to Pacific Time. Neither girl knew the email had been sent or even how much time had elapsed or how much was left. Kara and Sarah’s minds become lost to the passage of linear time and focused only on the number of orgasms; two for Kara, three for Sarah; the cost of each orgasm upon their bodies, and the pain wracking their uncomfortably positioned bodies. Both Kara and Sarah were independently hoping their time was nearing the end and looking forward to several hours of convalescing rest. * * * * * Stephen pulled into the long driveway of the address he was given and thought the place to be somewhere between a house and a mansion. It was a three story Colonial complete with a large front porch and columns on either side of the main entry door. He didn’t ponder long at its size or its exterior amenities however and wasted no time finding the rock Sarah had mentioned and digging three inches beneath it to find the plastic box buried below it. Stephen removed the key from the box while bounding up the front steps, taking two at a time. He unlocked both locks on the large double-doors and swung the main door open, not bothering to close it behind him. He didn’t bother looking around the large foyer but focused on finding the stairwell down to the basement. Stephen found the stairs to the basement in short order and wasted no time getting to the closed door below. He quickly keyed 55991 on the keypad on the door and heard a click. Stephen pushed on the door and it opened easily though he could tell the door was quite sturdy and heavy. “Sarah, Kara, are you down he…” he began to ask loudly, the question dying on his tongue before being fully uttered. Neither woman turned their head to the sound of Stephen’s voice but he could see they were quite lively… and, quite bound. Stephen slowly made his way to the large wooden table the two women were bound upon, unable to take his eyes off of them and unable to fully comprehend what he was seeing. The luminosity of the room was neither extremely dark nor bright; only light enough for him to make out the two bound women and how tightly and entirely bound they were. He could not see, however, the wires leading to each of their sexes or their nipples. Finally understanding neither of the two girls, whom had somehow sent him a dire plea for help, were not actually in direct danger, Stephen began to look around the room. The first thing he noticed was a computer screen with large numbers counting down…00:46:22…the seconds steadily counting down. “A timer?” Stephen mused quietly to himself though he was sure if the girls knew he had entered, one or both would have turned their heads in his direction when he spoke as he entered the room. He was not sure how deaf they were but he knew something had kept them from hearing him. “Emergency email has been sent.” Was displayed in smaller window below the one with the timer. Stephen turned his gaze back to the bound women. As he peered closer he finally caught sight of the thin wires leading to several different locations of each of the girl’s bodies. He also noticed the four boxes the wires ran to and watched the displays. Each display had power-output indicators which, at the time, seemed to be nearly to their highest level. Stephen scratched his head without being aware of doing so. He was trying to figure out what exactly it was that he was seeing. Stephen noticed the winch holding the two girls arms tight and high above them, then, he noticed the keys clipped to the black leather belts snugged tightly around each of their waists. Stephen slowly began to grasp what the girls had done, how they planned to be released, and, furthermore, that he was not supposed to have received the email he had been sent quite yet. Stephen looked closely at the clips which held the keys to the belt and decided with the thickness of the belts and the style of the clips, he should be able to remove the keys without the girls knowing if he was careful. He unclipped the keys from each belt and, as he thought, the bound women never made a flinch of acknowledgement of the action. Stephen decided he would sit and watch as the two lovelies game played out. He decided he had plenty of time to go upstairs and close and lock the front door now that he knew the girls were safe and secure the basement door when he returned. While he was upstairs however, Stephen decided to find the kitchen. He hoped the girls may have some beer in the fridge. He was not disappointed, pulled two out then headed back down to the helpless beauties in the basement. When Stephen made it back into the basement he noticed one of the girls bucking more than the other. Though he had slept with one of them, their body shapes and sizes mixed with the moderate level of light and the full hoods over the girl’s heads, Stephen was not sure which one it was. Stephen looked at the power levels on the boxes. Following the wires, Stephen figured his initial reading of the power levels must’ve been wrong as the boxes leading to the bucking woman seemed to be on low and the boxes to the woman remaining more still, though only slightly, had what he believed the high power. While he watched the displays, the bucking woman began to moan and scream loudly into her gag, and Stephen watched as both displays showed the power level bars nearly light-up fully once again. * * * * * Kara exploded with her third orgasm while Sarah did everything she could do to hold herself from pulling on the switches and causing another battle of wills against the torturous shocks. Sarah was happy that Kara was able to achieve another orgasm even if her own body was paying a painful price for it. Sarah was sure Kara had suffered terribly through the three orgasms she herself had enjoyed and was quite willing to endure Kara’s orgasms. Sarah knew her body was completely spent and she would not enjoy another orgasm. She also hoped their time was almost complete. She felt as if they had been bound here together for days and was not sure just how much longer she could endure the pleasure cycle, let alone anymore of the pain cycles. Sarah’s shoulders were on fire, her knees felt as if they were rubbed raw and bleeding, her pussy and asshole felt as if the dildo’s had been replaced with baseball bats, of which she had the thick end stuck in her, and her hips felt as if the baseball bats had been used on them before being shoved into her. Sarah prayed this was almost over and cursed herself for agreeing to six hours. Kara couldn’t help her third orgasm. It came very unexpectedly and quickly rose within her. Actually having the orgasm felt great and it was the most explosive one she had today. She did, however, feel bad for Sarah as she knew how much pain she was putting her through. Kara had learned herself that there was no getting used to the pain. She hoped she would but she had not and was very sure that Sarah hadn’t either. Kara knew her body has endured more pain than she had ever intended to undergo during the session. She never took into account how much pain the actual bondage would put her through. Her shoulders feel as if they have been torn from their sockets and is very concerned that she may have sustained serious and permanent damage in them. Her hips ache terribly, her back feels as if she has knots in the muscles the size of Texas and her knees feel as if they have been worked over Nancy Kerrigan style. Kara couldn’t help but think that her ex-Domme; whom she believed to be the most mean and wicked bitch on the face of the Earth; had not treated her this badly. Close, but not quite. Kara was never so happy as when that contract had ended. She thought it to be the worst year of her life. However, she is quite convinced, this is by far the worst six-hour block of her life. But, Kara is even more concerned for her lover bound to the rear of herself. She hopes beyond hope that she has not hurt Sarah too much. Unlike herself, Sarah had never had a Domme; either good or bad; and hasn’t been tested to her fullest. Kara is worried that since this was worse than she had ever been through, what could Sarah be thinking? Both Kara and Sarah screamed in unison as they felt the electricity stop and the hoist begin to first, release the tension on their arms, then lower them slowly towards their backs…and to the keys they desperately needed. Though neither girl knew the other was thinking the same thing, they were both frustrated by how slowly the hoist descended. Now they each knew how long they had been tied and tortured and each were ecstatic their six-hour ordeal was complete. As the pressure was released from their shoulders, they could tell each other began to sob as each of the others stomach contractions resonated through the dildos they shared. And, even though both girls wanted nothing more than to obtain the keys on their belts, they allowed their heads and upper torso’s to be lowered to the top of the wooden rack before pulling their arms down toward their waists. Both girls were much too spent to hold their shoulders up and bring their arms down. Bending at the waist placed much more pressure on the dildo’s stuck in them, almost painfully, but that too didn’t matter. They would soon be free of their restraints and free of the phalluses deep inside. Each of the women felt around for the keys as their arms finally reach the belts around each of their waists. Kara and Sarah could feel each other’s bound hands pulling here and there, moving the strap attached to the other wrist restraints around on their bare asses. Each could feel the strap move ever more as they each search proved futile. Both had found the clip which should be holding the keys, but, no keys were there. They screamed and struggled and searched. Kara was sure the clips held the keys securely and that they could not have fallen off. Sarah tried to remember if she had indeed clipped the keys to her belt, assuring herself that Kara and she had checked one another and confirmed each other had. The two women began to fight and struggle against their bonds with renewed vigor as they felt the hoist begin to pull their arms towards the rafters once again. * * * * * Stephen was taking the last couple sips of his second beer when the timer finally reached three sets of zero’s. It didn’t take him too long to understand the bucking which one of the girls was doing when he came back into the basement was the result of a strong and intense orgasm. He was also able to discern that the movement of one girl caused the other to be tortured by electricity. The one thing he wasn’t able to quite figure out is why these girls would do this. Sarah never asked Stephen to do any kind of bondage while they were together and never considered she would be open to it. He surely would have. Stephen has always been fascinated by bondage and would’ve loved to have Sarah as his sub. While he waited for the timer to count down, Stephen looked around the basement and found it to be a dungeon. He finally realized that the two girls were bound upon a medieval styled rack. There were two wooden stocks in one of the corners, two studded torture chairs in another. Against one wall was an X-cross. There were several large eye-bolts in the rafters, one set having single manacles dangling on chains, obviously to chain someone with their arms held high and wide above their head. Others had handcuffs attached to a chain hanging down. Looking about the floor, Stephen found eye-bolts mounted to pop-ups in the floor which could pop-up for use but stowed to keep from tripping over. He thought this to be quite ingenious. The more he looked the more complete he found the dungeon and even found things he was not exactly sure what their use was but figured, with time, he could figure it out. As the timer counted down to within one minute of what the girls believed to be their release, he chose a red leather covered and studded paddle, pulled it from its hook on the wall and sat back down in the chair near the computer. Stephen really wanted to see what the girls would do when they realized there were no keys to release themselves with. Stephen sat watching as the timer hit zero and the girls tensed muscles relaxed as the electricity quit assaulting their body’s. He had noticed the rings on each part of the girl’s sexual parts and how each one had electrical wires attached to them. As both of them had the piercings, it was an addition Sarah had acquired since they had separated a few years ago. Stephen watched as the hoist slowly lowered the women’s arms and how they allowed their body’s to be lowered to the table before making an attempt to grab the keys. He figured they must be exhausted. He had no way to be certain how long they were enduring this before he got here but knew they were in it for more than two hours. Stephen also figured they had to be in it well before the computer sent him the email, but, he couldn’t believe they had been bound and tortured for much more than four hours. Not the way they were being assaulted while he was here. He watched as the two searched their belts for the keys; the search becoming ever more frantic as the reality sunk in that the keys were not where they had been when they started this adventure. Stephen somewhat felt bad for doing what he had and was doing—but only somewhat. He allowed the women to search and panic for several minutes, listening to the frantic and frustrated cries from their gagged mouths, before he pushed the button on the hoists control pad to pull their arms up once again. Stephen somewhat chuckled as the girl’s fought ever more heavily against their restraints and the hoist pulling their arms back up. He could tell they were in utter terror. Once the hoist stopped and the girl’s arms were once again pulled tight, Stephen noticed that the electrical torture cycle had also begun again. Their muscles began to convulse. He waited until they could let themselves drop the power down. Stephen didn’t know if they thought something went terribly wrong with their system or if they suspect someone was here with them, though, Stephen planned to remove that uncertainty very shortly. Stephen allowed them to enjoy the lower power setting for a couple of minutes before he gave either Kara or Sarah’s ass a hard swat with the paddle. Still having no idea of which one was which, Stephen landed the same smart swat on the other’s bare ass-cheek. Stephen wished he could get a swat lower on each cheek, but, the way they were bound only allowed for him to land them just below their waists. Each swat he landed, which he alternated between each ass and each cheek, caused the girls to buck and step the electricity up to the high setting. Stephen also noticed their nipples elongate as they pulled hard against the wires connected to the table, sure that the pull had to be hurting almost as much as the shock. He worked on each of their asses until he could make out the red glow of their skin even in the dim lighting. Again, Stephen allowed the two bound beauties to relax and allow the power to drop down before moving on to his next action. As they began to gain control of themselves, he tried to decide which girl’s hood he would remove first. Stephen hoped he would remove his ex-girlfriends hood first. Then he could just leave his ex’s new love’s hood on and not have to deal with her. Stephen decided he would flip a coin. Heads…girl on the left…tails…girl on the right. Heads. Stephen walked around and looked through the keys. There was no way for him tell which key was for the lock on the collar so he decided he would just have to try each of them until he found the correct one. Stephen wished he would have kept track of which keyring was attached to which girl. He made it through the first set of keys without any of them working. The third key on the second set made the small lock click open. Stephen decided he would put this set of keys in his left pocket and the other in his right, keeping them separated now. The blindfold was attached to the hood but the gag was under the hood. Stephen was happy since when the hood was removed the girl would still be silenced. He released each of the buckles running up the back of the hood and slowly slipped it off of her head. Stephen looked into fearful but angry eyes of emerald green. It was Kara. Sarah’s eyes are deep blue. Kara’s eyes opened as wide as they could possibly open. Obviously the painful shocking had begun again. Kara screamed howls of agony into her gag, forcing Stephen to believe the wires leading to the hood was what made the girls to remain quiet. During the whole time Stephen had been there he had not heard either of them make the noise that Kara is now. Stephen pulled the set of keys from his right pocket and walked to the still hooded Sarah. The lock on her collar opened after two failed attempts with the wrong keys and finished unbuckling it, pulling it free once it was loose enough. Sarah’s beautiful face had the same tear streaked cheeks as Kara but Sarah’s tugged at his heart whereas Kara had made Stephen feel nothing. Sarah’s eyes were filled with more pain than he had ever seen in anybody’s. Kara’s eyes probably showed the same pain, but, Stephen knew Sarah’s eyes; he didn’t know Kara’s other than a few times of meeting her. He decided the girls had suffered enough pain and found the power buttons on the electrical boxes and powered all four off. Both women slumped limply against the restraints securely binding them. Stephen went back to Sarah. Sarah’s blue orbs had always been windows to her emotions and Stephen watch those eyes quickly turn from wonderment, fear, then anger and hold that latter emotion. She screamed through her gag. Stephen could not make out the words but was quite sure she was not thanking him for saving them. Stephen decided he could probably have a much calmer conversation with the girl he had not slept with and left Sarah’s gag strapped deeply in her maw. Stephen walked around to Kara. “Can we have a calm conversation if I remove your gag?” Her lover’s ex-boyfriend asked. “Upphh ouugghh!” He clearly made it out—Fuck you! “I came here because I got an email saying you two were in trouble. It said you girls could die.” He explained to her. “Ohh Aayy.” She replied and Stephen took that to mean they could have that calm dialogue he was requesting. Stephen pulled Kara’s keys out of his pocket and tried four keys before finding the key to the gag. Damned how he wished these keys and locks were marked. He buckled the gag and pulled the large ball from her mouth with a pop. Kara flexed her jaw from side to side and opened and closed, apparently needing to work out the kinks before trying to speak. He gave her the time she needed. “Tell me again. Why the fuck are you here Stephen?!?” Kara hissed. “I got an email from Sarah asking me to help. How else could I be here? I had no idea where you lived. No idea where the key to the door was. And, no idea what the code to the basement door was. It was all in the email I received.” Stephen explained to her as concisely as he knew how. “Ok. So you came to save us. Why’d you fuck us over and spank us? Why are our arms stretched up behind us again? You’re not quite being our saint and fucking savior Stephen!” “Ok…ok. Once I noticed you were safe and not in trouble I stuck around and decided to play. My bad. But I kind of decided I should be rewarded for coming to help.” He said, knowing as soon as it left his mouth he had stepped on his own dick. “What!?! Do you want us to fuck you or something!?! Real fucking chivalrous Stephen!” The venom in Kara’s voice hanging in the air like a heavy mist. “Sarah decided to use you as a backup because she trusted you, you bastard!” “Look. I’ll just reset the machine now that we all know it works, let you girls finish your fun and be gone. We can just leave this behind us.” Stephen said. “Oh sure. We all win. Only after Sarah and I get tortured and tormented for another six fucking hours. What the fuck…it’s a win-win for all of us. We are tired and have suffered a lot of pain for a very long time Stephen. I don’t think I could handle another six hours and I am quite fucking sure that Sarah couldn’t, but fuck it, if that’s what you want to do then gag me, hood us, and fuck us over if that’s what you want to do. I obviously am not in a position to stop you.” “You’ve been in this for six hours?” Stephen asked in amazement. “Well, closer to seven now I’m guessing. Go ahead…give us another six.” Kara said, tears filling her deep green eyes and opening her mouth wide, inviting me to put the gag back in. “No. I can’t do that. I thought maybe it was three, maybe four hours. Not six.” Stephen said. “Could I maybe help you girls play? Not screw you…I know you’re not into that and Sarah isn’t any longer. Just maybe play some S&M games a little?” He asked. Stephen could see Kara thinking about it and she had not nixed the idea straight out, and took this to be a possible good sign. “I will have to ask Sarah what she thinks about it before I can agree to anything. Let us release ourselves and I will talk to her about it. I think I can persuade her. I think you just might have a pretty good idea. We have needed a third person to help us with our kinks.” Kara said, nearly flooring Stephen with her openness to the possibility. Stephen pressed the button on the hoist’s control pad to set it in motion, lowering Kara and Sarah’s arms once again. When there was enough slack, Stephen removed the belt connected between the girl’s wrists from the hook at the end of the cable. He put the keys to each girl’s locks in their perspective hands. “I know you have already seen both of us in a very uncompromising position,” Kara started, “and you will probably be seeing us naked quite a bit over the next while, but, I would prefer you to go upstairs, have a beer, and wait for us to call you with our answer.” The bound girl working at the locks for her release laying before him finished. “Ok.” Stephen replied somberly, hoping he could’ve been allowed to watch the girl’s as they removed their bindings. Stephen did as Kara had requested. Kara and Sarah worked the next fifteen minutes removing their bondage and the wires connected to the rings on their sensual and sexual pleasure parts. The two girl’s sat on the rack as they palavered about what Stephen had requested and Kara had agreed to speak to her lover about. After several minutes, their answer had been reached and Kara yelled up the stairs for Stephen to rejoin them. As Stephen entered the door to the basement and began to turn into the room, he felt a sharp, powerful sting on the back of his neck. The sudden and unexpected jolt of electricity from the stun-gun in Kara’s hand laid him out and unconscious. When Stephen awoke, the pain in his head was not the only sensation he noticed as his mind began to clear. He could feel the steel shackles on his ankles and wrists that was pulling his body tightly across the wooden top of the rack. He could feel the pinch of the clamps on his nipples and the wire wrapped tightly around his balls and cock. The anal plug was also quite apparent. A dildo-gag was held deep and tight within his mouth and a thick blindfold covered his eyes. Stephen could feel the bump of the microphone pressing against his throat, held in place by the leather collar around his neck. “We decided we could use you as our partner Stephen.” Kara said. “But, we need some rest. Sarah and I are very tired. As you just woke up…” Sarah giggled when Kara said it “…you should be good for a while.” “We figured you might enjoy the amount of electricity we endured, so, we left the power levels where they were for us.” This time it was Sarah who spoke. “I would highly advise you to remain very, very quiet and, extremely still. It’s one bitch of a bite when these things go into torture mode.” Sarah finished as she pushed the power buttons to turn on the power-boxes and send voltage into him. Stephen bucked but held his voice. However, the girls had also connected the movement switches and Stephen screamed and thrashed as the power level jumped. “Have fun Stephen. We’re going to get some rest. We’ll see you in several hours.” Kara said, both girls laughing as they closed the door to the basement behind them.

This is a story about a hot horny woman, Claudia, getting anonymous instructions to be followed up and filmed as well. Instruction 1 Requirements: tiny rope, rope with hooks 2 piece; bal gag, vibrator ( no batteries), nipple clamps, small loose chain connected to the clamps nipple vacuum set, 2 candles, scarf, Table upside down, electrical timer, magnet electric controlled, power box analog incl spring, 2 steel plates with rings, 2 ring which can be screwed in the table, duct tape,. 4 web cams. ...

Warning! Some portions of this story contains elements of extreme pain, body modification, and blood which readers may find difficult and/or too graphic to read. If descriptive text of this nature bothers you, I recommend you find a lighter story to read. EPL “Paul…are you there? Pick-up if you are there Paul. I called to tell you about my flight, or, better yet, lack of one. The plane had an engine explode during take-off. Yes! Actually explode! Don’t worry. It happened almost as soon as the pilot throttled up and we never left the ground. There were no injuries and we simply returned to the gate. They called it a catastrophic failure of engine two. There will not be another flight available until tomorrow so I have to stay in London again tonight. If you get this message in the next half hour or so, give me a call; otherwise, I will call you in a couple of hours. I love you slave! Bye.” ...

Sweat drips from her forehead onto the bed as her head turns from side to side desperately trying to see a way to continue her stimulation or get herself free. She continues to try and see even though the thick rubber of the blind fold I had pulled over her eyes prevents her from seeing anything. I knew she would struggle so I had intentionally over tightened the straps for the head harness gag she was wearing over the blindfold. ...

Part 1: Betrayal ********** ‘Is it coming closer? Why would anyone come here this time? And who it is?’ were the primary thoughts what circled through my mind. The rough gravel road, leading to the yard of my grandmothers farm, scrunched under some ones feet. It was late evening, about 9:30 pm. I was lying on my left side in a dark room of an old house, The Old Cottage. Completely naked, only wearing sunglasses and chains. Bound by my own hand. Waiting for the sun to rise. Expecting my real challenge to start after several hours. And definitely not expecting any visitors. ...

“It’s time.” “Coming.” Slipping into the jacket of her smart business suit, Trish glanced at the mirror and smiled. Not bad, she thought. Not bad at all. Only three weeks until her fortieth birthday, and she could still turn heads. Still smiling, she turned and left her office. “Ok, Gina, let’s go.” Nodding, her assistant fell in beside her. “Everything in place?” “Pretty much,” Gina replied, eyes never lifting from the pad she carried in one hand. How, Trish wondered, can she do that all day without walking into things? “We did have one no-show at the Worm Race, but one of the instructors from the Wrap Academy offered to fill in, so we’re good.” ...

story continues from part two Jessica’s Torment 3: Fear and Electrical Stimuli …As she lay, another orgasm building its way to its need to burst, Jessica swore she could hear something in the main shop. She remained as quiet as she could; having to reduce the power level to keep her from moaning should her suspicions be correct. The noise of the overhead door rolling upon its tracks confirmed her suspicion. Jessica looked at the lock on her shop door and noticed she had not re-locked it after returning from the house with her restraints. ...

“Hey.” I jumped at the single word. Who had gotten into my dorm at this hour? I didn’t recognize that voice. I put the comic book down on the stack next to my bed. “Who’s there?” I asked. The door opened the rest of the way. “You don’t recognize me? That’s a shame. I’m your biggest fan.” A girl stood before me. She was staring at me intently, like she expected me to do something, or maybe she was sizing me up. ...

How different things would have been if I hadn’t decided to stop for a drink: a small bar on a small square in a small village in the remote French countryside that is La Creuze. I had parked my motorbike on the square and sat down on the terrace for a glass of cool beer. She was beautiful, the woman who served me. Thirty, probably, older than I would usually feel attracted to, ten years older than I was. But she was different, intriguing, full of a fascinating natural deepness … and very, very beautiful. Slender and curvy at the same time. Raven hair down to her shoulders. Huge hazel-brown eyes. She exactly ticked every box on my wish list. ...

story continues from part one Part 2: The journey begins Chapter 1: The Replay It was just past midnight, when I arrived home. Though we had been sleeping for couple hours, I was exhausted. Mentally and physically. I dragged myself up to 3rd floor, where my apartment was. No more than four hours to sleep if I want to start my shift on time. And I do. Only once in my work history I have been late from work. And that just because my alarm didn´t wake me up. ...

Angela was very pleased with the mid-summer weather on this Saturday morning. Only a few puffy white clouds dotted the sky, showing no hint of the gray, rain producing, bottoms to them that were so often the case on the coast of Maine. To Angela, the weather seemed perfect to give herself a little adventure without being locked up in her chateaux. Today she would have her fun outdoors and enjoy the sun and the light breeze gently blowing in from the Atlantic. Angela was beginning to get extremely excited about her plans for her mid-morning activities; and the moisture in her panties was proving it. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 12: Lucinda’s Schooltime Academy) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Slave missy discovers that you can be punished with pleasure. This is the story of a young woman’s conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. ...

Dr. Wells lay in her improvised seat aboard the Soyuz capsule grinning from ear to ear. It had taken her years to get to this: the college work, application to the space program, the astronaut training. And now here she was, strapped into position aboard the Soyuz which had just docked with the International Space Station. As the hatch opened, the three other cosmonauts unlatched their belts and floated freely about the cabin. Wells had to wait. She was in a special fourth seat configuration, which she was told, had never been used before. It was so exciting to be making history! ...

Helping friends: A very unique Christmas gift of slave labor By Techie (part 1) and Techster (part 2) Two weeks before Christmas and I was worried about two friends of ours. I’ll just call them Mr. and Mrs. K. Mrs. K was in stage 3 of alzheimers/dementia and Mr. K as he caregiver was obviously suffering from the stress of trying to keep an eye on her as she would wander off and walk down the road they lived on often half naked, wearing nothing more that a tee shirt. They had two small dogs who were rather old and suffering from a problem controlling their bowels. Consequently there were dried and caked spots of canine fecal waste at various places in their home. ...

Amelia Ryder was an imposing woman. She was all of five foot six inches tall with the confidence of a marine corp drill Sargent. Her long blond hair hung in a single pony tail as she sat in a rose colored silk dress. Everything about this woman said power and control despite her one handicap. Miss Ryder had been born blind. They had met the day before when she had walked into the social clubs public space and asked to speak to the management. “What is it that you want from this?” Thomas asked. “I’ve listened to audio books about bondage and helpless women but it’s not the same as actually seeing it. In my case I have to touch it, feel it, to understand what it is. I hear the sounds but I don’t know why the sounds are being made or what is causing it”. “Is it the bondage you are curious about or BDSM?” “It’s mostly the bondage but the other does fascinate me. I know that bondage is part of BDSM but I don’t understand how it differs. " “Bondage is just that”, Thomas said, “someone tied up and helpless. For many people this is enough. The simple explanation is that BDSM is what you do once you have them bound and helpless. I can arrange a closed session with a few girls for you tomorrow if you would like”. “That would be wonderful”, Amelia said. The appointment was set. Today Miss Ryder entered tapping her cane and wearing a baby blue dress and sandals. Thomas led her to a table with three other women sitting there. ...

The wagon makes its slow steady progress along the hard pack road. The horse is moving at a pace somewhere between a walk and a trot. The man at the reins and the woman beside him stare blankly ahead as people tend to do when on a long journey. Behind are four, fresh mares, all young, fit. One of them is seventeen today, although she is unaware of it. Mares have no sense of time, nor day. Weeks, months, years mean nothing. They are under contract and the days pass, pass without noting. ...

“You’re late. Again.” Giselle smiled sheepishly. “I know,” she said. Byron frowned. “I thought you were going to leave early this time.” “I did,” Giselle told him. “But, well, I guess I got a bit distracted on the way here.” “I can imagine. How many selfies did you take on the way here?” “Only a couple.” Byron held out his hand. “Phone.” Silently, Giselle handed her phone to him, watching as he checked her image gallery. ‘Nineteen," he finally said, glancing up at her. “Giselle, it’s a six block walk, and you took nineteen selfies?” ...

First, this is my first story and it is just fiction including some parts of real life and also my own fantasies. My name is Harry. I´m 35 years old and I live in a small town in Finland, northern Europe. I have found my interest in bondage, or more accurate, self bondage, just recently, maybe a year ago. Self bondage because I have not found the right partner to do it with. But I have good imagination and after searching the web about bondage I bumped to Gromets site and read some of those stories, I thought to give it a try myself. ...

story continues from part one Jessica’s Torment 2: Recovery and Electricity … After settling her head on, and wrapping her arms around, her pillow, Jessica fell asleep quickly. Her dreams were filled with nightmares of being unable to escape the bondage she managed to release herself from. There were several variations of her dreams as they played out. Some, she was unable to release herself and her employees found her. In her dreams, it seemed as if her employees did like her as much as she believed they did. They used the opportunity to rape and torture her while teasing her for doing this to herself for them. In other dreams, she died of dehydration after dropping the second key to the floor and well out of her reach or recovery. ...

Kevin and Marissa, only two-months shy of their first anniversary in the heavenly bliss of the shroud of matrimony, are as much in love as the day they repeated their vows. At least, Marissa was the last time Kevin seen her, two-days before waking this morning. Kevin figured Marissa was not all that happy at current and most assuredly questioning why she was in her current state. Kevin knew they would not be spending their first wedding anniversary together, Marissa, did not. ...

Carrie awoke to the sounds of her roommate in the kitchen. A glance at the clock showed it to be just after 5am. Who the hell gets up at 5am on a Saturday? She wondered, pulling the pillow over her head. She heard another thud followed by the sound of a cooking pot clattering on the floor. Knock it off Ronnie, she mumbled from under her pillow. Seconds later there came another crash. Rolling from the bed Carrie straightened her night shirt and stalked out of her room. Rounding the corner the dark haired woman got a surprise. The kitchen lights were off. Storming into the kitchen she flipped the switch flooding the room with light. Carrie’s eyes were dazzled by the light for a second. “Damn it Ronnie, if your going to be up at this hour at least turn on the light so you can see what your doing!” Then Carrie opened her eyes. Ronnie was huddled on the floor in the corner of the kitchen. She was also stark naked. Ok so it wasn’t the first time one of them were wondering around naked. Only this time the slender red head had a black leather form fitting, something, over her head. Leather straps wrapping around her torso above and below her ample breasts and another at her waist pinning her arms to her body. Another strap at her knees and ankles and leather wrist cuffs completed the bondage. “What the hell?” Carrie gasped, stepping over to her friend. Reaching for the hood she found a small pad lock securing it. Every strap and cuff was held in place using locks. “Someone did you up good, I’m going to have to cut you out”. The bound girl squealed through the mask twisting her head. “Umm, Ummm”, she hummed calling Carrie’s attention to the gag panel on the mask. It was strapped tight but not locked. Releasing the buckle Carrie pulled the gag panel away pulling a two inch wide pear shaped plug from Ronnie’s mouth. “Don’t cut it”, Ronnie gasped, “I just need the keys and I can get myself out”. Carrie had been reaching for the blindfold panel but stopped. “Keys?” She asked. “What keys?” “The keys to the locks”, the bound girl replied. “I dropped them down behind my bed and can’t reach them”. Kneeling on the floor by her helpless friend Carrie leaned back on her heels. “So why are you out here in the kitchen trying to make enough noise to wake the dead?” Ronnie stammered, “I,…. I hid a spare set of keys in here months ago, but I can’t find them”. Realization set in, “Were they taped up under the shelf there about half way back?” “Yes”, the bound girl replied. Giggling Carrie got to her feet, “I found them weeks ago and dropped them into the junk drawer”. Ronnie heard her friend open a drawer and the jingle of keys. She heard Carrie walk out of the room and some sounds from one of the bedrooms. Moments later Carrie was back. “Ok I have both sets of keys and you’re not getting them until I’m good and ready”. “You’re not going to ask about how I got this way?” Ronnie asked. “Not really”, Carrie replied, “unless you’re telling me that someone broke in, bound you in leather, then slipped out without taking anything? Or attacking me as well? I’ve seen the stuff you read on the computer remember? You showed me a few stories about girls tying themselves up. It was some interesting reading. There was one story I remember where a girl tied herself and was discovered by her friend. By the way, guess which part you get to play. But first I’m going back to bed and if you wake me before eight you will be very sorry. Open up, I’m putting the gag back in”. “Wait,….. wait a minute”, Ronnie said. “What?” Carrie asked exasperated. “I,.. I have to,.. pee”, the bound girl said. “Fine”, Carrie said, “but this goes back in first”. Ronnie silently opened her mouth as the pear shape slipped past her lips. Carrie pulled the straps tight as she buckled the panel back in place. Then she opened the small locks on the buckles at the bound girls ankles and knees. Seconds later the straps were removed. Slowly the helpless girl rose to her knees then stood up. She twisted her head as if to see which way to go but the blindfold had never been removed. ...

Breasts She closed and locked the front door, left her briefcase on the table in the hall. She had been anticipating this session all week , building up her nerve, and didn’t want anything, or anyone, to interfere. This time she was going to finish it, no matter what.. The previous sessions had been painful, but not excruciating, and therefore not as fulfilling as she wanted. Each had built on the last as her tolerance built up. This time… she wanted the ultimate pain… and the ultimate orgasms… ...

WARNING: This story contains scenes of death by impailment, if you do not wish to read such scenes then don’t read this story. The cell in the Turkish prison was damp and cold; dirty straw lying on the floor was my only bed. From the nearby cells, came the sobs and cries of my recent companions, two of whom were young women. I lay on the straw, trying not to think of the dreadful fate that awaited us in the morning. ...

This is a consensual spanking story based on reality. It is actually a composite of stories from several different women. No one woman is the woman telling this story, but some of the themes of this story will resonate with many different women with emotional barrier issues. As Jack Webb used to say on Dragnet, “The names have been changed to protect the innocent.” Some of the details have also been changed, and dare I say, augmented. ...

Jessica’s father had taught her all he could and it was time to hand her the reigns of the company. In fact, in many ways, Jessica had surpassed his own abilities and had started showing him new ways to permanently bond metal to metal. Teacher and mentor becoming student to his daughters own natural ability. It wasn’t her welding skill that had impressed him the most however. Jessica had an uncanny aptitude for fabrication. When a customer came to his fabrication shop for some intricate and difficult piece of design, Jessica could envision exactly what the customer wanted and could immediately lay out the design to paper, and, when necessary, invent a new fabrication process to achieve the lowest cost for the customer and for the company. Jessica had surpassed his own fabrication abilities by the time she was sixteen. ...

“If dad could see me right now….. he’d probably kill me.” Nervously, Chastity stepped out onto the catwalk overlooking the production floor. This had seemed like a great idea before, but now she wasn’t so sure. Still, she’d made it this far, so the rest should be easy. Slowly, but with growing confidence, she made her way along the catwalk. The whole thing had begun earlier in the day, when Chastity had dropped in to visit her father at work. He, however, had been less than pleased, namely because of her choice of clothing. She’d been wearing a light, short summer dress, its tight, thin material leaving no doubt that there was no bra beneath. Instead of a visit, she’d been on the receiving end of a lecture on propriety. ...

So here I am bound in and to a vertical cage barely big enough for my plus size body trapped behind 3 master locks in a vertical cage, prisoner transport chains on my wrist, ankles, neck and waist, gagged with a head cage on holding a very well inflated butterfly gag in place, my cuffed ankles locked to the floor of the cage . My cock standing out from the vertical cage bouncing wantingly in the air desperately wanting to cum, stripped of my clothing in a strange man’s house with no one knowing I am here. Rule #1 broken… this is a recount of true events, well mostly true with a little license for creativity embellishing the facts for hopefully a more pleasurable read. And my first attempt at story writing.. But before I get started perhaps a little background into how this all came about. Names altered for privacy. ...

story continued from part 7 After many stories relating to rubber fetish and associated themes I have decided that, at least for now, this is my last, and for that I wanted to write something very different, and challenging for me So this is a gay rubber story, something I have never tried before. Whether or not it “works” and has credibility is entirely up to the reader, although I have to say I did quite enjoy writing it. ...

It had been delivered the morning Kim’s husband was leaving for a business trip. Kim ripped the package open and stared at the steel restraint she had begged him to get for her. Kim had always been fascinated by medieval restraints because of their simplistic brutalism. The standing stocks had been their first purchase and she had and still spent many hours with her head and hands trapped in the heavy wooden stocks while she was bent over at the waist. The bar across her waist keeping her standing while her ankles remain locked in the lower stocks forcing her legs wide apart. She loved every minute she stood with her legs shaking from the strain normally gagged with severe clamps attached to her nipples alone in the darkened room while he enjoyed a little quiet time. ...

“I can’t believe they turned us down.” Silence greeted the remark as the four young men walked despondently along the forest trail. Around them, the trees blazed with the colors of fall, but the beauty of nature went unnoticed by the reluctant hikers. The four men, James, Jeff, Robert and Wayne, had just made their way to the secluded hideout of The Marauders, a local band with links to nearly every illegal act in the area. The four friends had thought to join, but the seasoned criminals of the gang had simply laughed and chased them off. Now, to make matters worse, they were lost. ...

Bill was a kinky fellow, willing to try most anything. Unfortunately, he was also not very kind and considerate. So when he met Betty, a cute girl, who had a thing for being treated like a worthless sex toy, it was a match made in, well, not heaven, but they both liked it. They experimented with bondage, but Bill tended to enjoy his beer and was incapable of tying a decent knot to save his life. That was probably why Betty was still alive since he kept looping the ropes around her neck. But since all she had to do was pull his poor knots apart, she always got free. It was fun, but not quite the thrill she sought. ...

“Tell them it broke” I offered. “These kinds of people are short on understanding, and their head marketing guy is positively infatuated with you, as you may well remember from when you two first met. They expect to see this display window demo fully operational as a proof of concept test so that I can collect their obscenely large check, and then I can afford to pay both of us what we deserve and still have enough left to fix this latest bug before their major market stores all get one of their own. Your the stunning model for this prototype, they expect to see your stunning interactive form prancing about in their clothes in stunning fashion in that display window in less than two hours one way or the other.” ...

(story continues from Take it Like a Sheep! 2: Julia on a Stick) Chapter 3: Do Machines Dream of Sheep? Julie came away from the night of her first automatic scene with the awareness that she could make her machines do anything; anything within the limits of her machine’s abilities, that is. Julie was past this already. She knew that for her to cater her newly developed taste for autoerotic, she needed much more developed machinery, with the robotics and software to match. Julie knew her position at this job would not giver her access to that kind of hardware. Even before Julie programmed her second scene for her vet track, she was looking online to find out what type of company offered this type of access for her to tinker with. There were a few possibilities open to her, but the one with the most promise was a robotics company, specializing in dairy livestock. They used the same software developer within their interface, and she could pitch a good success story about how she improved upon the same programming for her current position in the vet track. ...

Jim was leaving a friend’s apartment after a fun night with her. It was nothing serious, just an old friends with benefits thing and her home was along his travel route as he headed home from the coast. It was early, about 6 am on a Sunday morning, but since he still had a bit of a drive and she had to meet girlfriends for a Sunday brunch thing, it was time to get on the road. ...

story continued from part 12 Chapter 13: The Return of Valerie Newman One mid-morning, just before lunch, Beth and Cassandra were relaxing together in the jail cell after a particularly hard scene the night before. Mistress Allison had whipped them both to a screaming frenzy, and their bodies displayed the whip marks that they would carry for some time! Afterwards, they had sought comfort in each other’s arms: after all, what else could two naked girls do while confined in a jail cell? ...

story continued from part 13 Chapter 14: Spring Fever The deep snows of the rural Pennsylvania winter had now given way to spring, and the view from outside the picture window was now a riot of green! Springtime was the season of renewal, and Cassandra looked out of her bedroom window and reflected on how her brush with death had instead resulted in new life as bondage companion for Beth! Previously, she has just experimented as a submissive, not certain if she wanted to that lifestyle. But she had entered Beth’s house in a winter blizzard, and her life was now transformed! ...

(story continues from The Body Puzzle) Continued from The Body Puzzle - Part 1: The Upper Torso. Part 2: The Lower Torso Try as he might, Jay couldn’t stop himself from taking in the full view of Vanessa’s heaving breasts. Normally milky white, they were now a bright pink. As she squirmed slightly, quietly struggling against her self-administered restraint, his comment about “desert” hung in the air like the bad joke that it was. ...

A Young Woman’s Pleasure This was the third summer in a row that Alicia was spending with her aunt and uncle. She enjoyed her stays with them at their home and wide-ranging property. For the past few years her parents had travelled, using the summers as an opportunity to see distant lands and sights now that their daughter was older. Older, though, is a relative term, as Alicia had only recently turned 19. The pretty young woman, with her dark hair and matching dark eyes, was filled with the vivacity of youth. Her aunt and uncle’s grounds were an ideal place for her to expend her considerable energies… and, she was discovering, for exploring her desires as well. ...

The old hospital was dark. The faint aroma of antiseptic cleaners still lingered in the stale air. This disused four story, plus basement, facility was going to be my next self bondage venue. A little back ground info just to set the stage for you. I live in rural Canada. In the small town in which I reside stands the above mentioned hospital. Here, the government owns an operates the regional health districts which over see the medical facilities in their area. The hospital in my town was closed two years ago in a politically motivated “stream lining” of the health care system. The bad news is we have to drive fifteen miles to the neighboring town for a hospital. The good news, for me anyway, is that I was hired to be caretaker \ watchman of the mothballed building. This means I have the keys and the right to enter and move around the empty building and grounds. ...

It is no secret that for many years I have always been playing bondage “games with my husband/lover/ best friend, Techster. In looking for the simplest means or method of rendering him completely helpless I discovered a new bondage “tool” called “bondage mitts”. These can render even the strongest man helpless by depriving him of the use of his fingers, hands or even thumb. Instead he will have two thickly padded mitts for hands, he cannot open a lock, release a clip on a gag or even loosen a nut on a bolt. The mitts were surprisingly inexpensive, less than thirty dollars. ...

Her body is sweating profusely as she leans forward looking at the wide bands of steel around her legs, thighs and waist. Jenny had slowly closed each around herself making sure that they were tight enough to make her skin pucker over each band before locking them. The steel now held her legs and waist completely motionless and she sat gasping from the six inch wide band cutting deeply into her narrow waist. Jenny tried to wiggle her ass finding the two large phalluses she had embedded deep into the steel chair she was now locked onto combined with the steel restraints made any movement impossible. She leaned forward because even though she knew she was already committed to remain in the chair until the timer she had spun blindly releases the bonds so firmly locked onto her body she was still unwilling to submit fully to the remaining restraints waiting for her. ...

There is an old joke about; “How do you boil a frog?” Answer; “one degree at a time" Ed and Sandra had been married for 15 years and three kids when Ed left for Cindy. Sandra was doubly crushed only to find out that Ed would leave her and remarry the very next month. Well then…, within a year Cindy left Ed when she discovered that ”The Well” wasn’t deep enough for her life style. This caused Ed to cut his child and spousal support to Sandra in order to meet the new demands from Cindy and her lawyer. It seems that Cindy’s lawyer did a great job of cleaning Ed out of house and home. ...

Chapter 1 Around eleven pm Jessica had finally finished the third book of Ann Rice’s Sleeping Beauty erotica. She reached over and snapped off her night stand lamp pitching her bedroom into darkness. She slipped her hand under her covers and reached down between her long lean legs, she spread them apart and used her right hand to cup her mons. She used her fingers to stroke her inner thighs and then slowly moved closer towards covered sex. She pulled the gusset of her panties aside and began to explore the lips of her sex. ...

Part 1. Sandra is the best thing that ever happened to me. We met each other on Fetlife and started playing together and dating. For several years now we are a couple and try to enjoy BDSM as much as possible. A while ago we started to take it to the next level and launched a website where we promoted ourselves as erotic and BDSM performers. This went really well and almost every weekend we have a performance. Sandra takes care of the business and I usually do not know what kind of audience and performance I am facing. I love the thrill of the uncertainty this gives me, and Sandra is so creative she manages to surprise me every time. ...

Vivian’s Story - I Remember That Summer Very Well Vivian and I were sitting on the top deck of the cruise ship, enjoying the beautiful weather, with a couple of those drinks with little umbrellas stuck through orange slices. She and her husband are our good friends, and we often vacation together. No, Viv and I are not having an affair. To my knowledge she has never been unfaithful to her husband. However, I do flirt outrageously with her when my wife is not around. It is all in good fun, and she enjoys the attention, being a bit of a tease. ...

Kim stares at the lock as the light dims through the windows knowing she will have another night of being bound naked inside the steel cage she locked herself into three days ago. She curses herself as the numbers and letters get harder to see mumbling around the large ball in her mouth desperately trying to find the right combination. Kim had been using the sun as a timer for years having always enjoyed the feelings she gets as she locks herself inside the cage. As time progressed Kim started making it harder and harder on herself to open the locks, first using several extra locks then cuffing her hands and feet to make it more difficult. ...

She had to be crazy. Absolutely crazy to do something like this. It was dangerous. It was foolish and obscene. But the very thought made her heart race. She felt alive and sexy and spontaneous, like she hadn’t felt in years. She had to do it, and quickly, before her better judgment sealed her back into the dungeon of a failed marriage. All because the roof needed new shingles. That was her chance, perhaps the last she’d have for years. She called and set up a time with him, the man she coveted so dearly, and he came that Friday leading a three-man crew. His was the most handsome face she’d ever seen. He was broad, chiseled from his line of work. He towered as he stood before her, short brown hair matching his eyes. When she got home from work she brought a pitcher of water to them. Even the September sun could beat down, and from the moment he used his shirt to dab sweat from his face, she knew. She knew it was time to resurrect an old fantasy, and she wanted him there with her. ...

story continues from part two Traffic 3: Success at Last! Storycodes: Sbf; machine; naked; basement; cuffs; gag; belt; spanking; toys; bdsm; mast; torment; cons; XX Lisa was bound face-down and naked on her bondage table. Her improved spanking machine was all ready to start. It had numerous arms, each holding a different item. One had a small leather paddle, another had a heavy wooden hairbrush, a third had a leather flogger with many thin tails, still another had a heavy wooden spoon, and then there was one with a leather belt. There were several other arms as well - Lisa had really done a lot of work on her setup! ...

(story continues from A Night I Won’t Soon Forget) Part Two —-Desolates recollection: Alyssa looked at me with a wild eyed look. She was biting her lip as she pulled the black plastic trash bag down around her waist so she could move towards me, meanwhile my wife Jen was staring at her lustfully. I could tell that Jen was in such a state of orgasmic euphoria that she was singularly focused on Alyssa’s body, which was glistening with sweat and flushed from her multiple orgasm adventure. ...

It would be an understatement to say that Ashley was not very fond of Tiffany. The two grew up in the same neighborhood and thus went to the same schools. Growing up, Tiffany had a habit of getting Ashley in trouble for things that Tiffany herself had done. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Tiffany often ridiculed Ashley and chose her to be the target of her practical jokes. It didn’t end when the girls graduated from high school. Through an unfortunate twist of fate they ended up attending the same college. Things did not improve there - Tiffany was as mean to Ashley at college as she had been in school. ...

For a while, my wife and I lived in a small cottage out in the countryside, surrounded by fields normally inhabited by cows; nice if you didn’t have to drive anywhere, but around 10 miles for a pint of milk (even when surrounded by cows) meant it wasn’t the easiest of places to live. My wife worked quite a bit in mainland Europe, being away for days at a time, sometimes even a couple of weeks, which meant if I took a few days off from work, or worked from home, I could indulge in my favourite lone pastime, my “me time” as it is. ...

(story continues from The Investigative Reporter 12: Little Fugitive) story continues from part 12 Part 13: The Rest Of The Story At The Ranch (As told by J.M. Smith) As the owner of J.M. Smith ranch I must and do take full responsibility for the mess that was to develop, but in my defense several things had happened that were well beyond my control. After first examining the sketches from Grandview and reading Beth’s rough draft though I knew this was a story that had to be told no matter what, I fully prepared to tell the tale in her place should it become necessary. One must bear in mind at the same time that Beth had volunteered not once, but three separate times to be harnessed and used as a pretty beast of burden, and one can only assume that she got something from the experience other than to simply gather information for our book. ...

This would be anything but an ordinary business trip. A small group of co-workers and I were headed into the city for business meetings. We took the train downtown and cabbed over to the meeting place. The entire ride down, all I could think about was how I purposely left my ben-wa balls at home and every toy I own for that matter. I was trying to let my better judgement win over the tasty temptation that was before me. What temptation? ...

Tina had been reading stories about Tens units for months and researching how they work getting more curious about how or if they could improve herself bondage games. Tina finally ordered a small unit that had been advertised as the strongest unit available in its size. Tina eagerly awaited the unit’s arrival and planned her first session with it after she experimented with it for a while of course. When the unit arrived Tina was surprised at its size, she had seen the dimensions but hadn’t realized it was small enough to come with a belt clip making it very discrete. Her mind filled with all kinds of possibilities for use in public as she re-read the instructions installing the batteries then sticking four pads to her ass and plugging them in. ...

(story continues from Trashed at School) story continued from part one Part Two I became more and more preoccupied about the experience. What was it? On its face it was humiliating and disgusting, but somehow thinking about it made my heart race. I longed to experience it again. I fantasized about how to make the most of it. I’d do it differently. How could I? Would they give me the same punishment? ...

Fantasy / Science Fiction, Non-consent, Forced Competition, Forced Orgasm, Spanking, Flogging, Caning, Public Oral, Public Anal = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A portal is created to a very different “Man’s World.” The Portal Project is a scientific attempt to create a portal to other dimensions for the purpose of stealing ideas and weaponry. The Lottery Games are a yearly game in another world/dimension in which 300 “selectees” are subjected to a brutal (and sexual) elimination process to determine the winner. The losers are sold, the winner lives in luxury for the rest of her life. ...

Foreword: This is a work of fiction. None of the people in this story are real. None of these events ever happened. This story is nothing more than words that came from my imagination. Any similarity to any real people, places, or events is purely coincidental. Operators of erotic story web sites, whether free or fee-based, have my permission to post my stories for public reading, provided that credit is given to “Hungry Guy” as the author, and as long as you don’t make changes other than fixing typos. Even beware of fixing typos, for I occasionally use local slang and dialects that may be flagged by your spell checker. Thanks. ...

(story continues from Kira 2) Part Three “My Queen?” For a moment, the woman standing in the center of the room seemed not to hear. Then, slowly, she turned, hands fumbling at a buckle for the armor she wore. “What is it?” “My Queen, you have a visitor.” The woman scowled. “Do I look like I have time for a visitor? Whoever it is, get rid of them.” “Yes, my Queen. I will tell Her Majesty you are not accepting visitors today.” ...

What follows is pure fantasy and has no basis in fact. Have you ever walked past a house and thought you caught a glimpse of something strange going on? This is one version of what might be happening. Day One I - Mark and Leon Mark and Leon were in the kitchen of their small flat, kneeling on the floor with their hands behind their heads, and entirely naked save for matching black leather dog collars. A luggage tag was attached to both collars, identifying the men as freight ready to be transported. Each had a handwritten destination: Redbush Square. They were both very nervous, scared as to what was going to happen next. ...

Entering the room, she glanced around her, eyes taking in her surroundings. Seeing everything in its proper place, she nodded, moving to the windows and making sure the curtains and drapes were fully closed. For what she had in mind, she definitely didn’t want the neighbors looking in. Moving to a table, she picked up a bag and an extension cord. Plugged into the cord was a timer, and plugged into this was an adaptor that converted the timer’s single plug into three. Moving to a carefully selected spot on the floor, she plugged two cords into the adaptor, then set the timer before placing it carefully on the carpet. ...

(story continues from The Secret Life of Rica 7: An Unexpected Visitor) Chapter 8: Inevitable Erica took her time studying Bea, her face, her hair, her legs, her waist, the swell of her bust. Bea had let her down badly with Ee-Zee. She was blushing but was that a sign of guilt? Or something else? Bea’s impish pout dissolved into a smile. “I know. I know. I was very naughty.” Erica refused to look her in the eye. “Yes you were. It’s time for your punishment.” She kept her voice even. ...

(story continues from The Statement of William Shelton 2) Author’s note: Some words, including ‘hugely’ occur far too often in the story. The story is intended to portray the written version of a verbal narrative, and the character “talks that way.” The author understands the value of variety in written and spoken words, and practices it. Hugely. Part 3 Alternate ending. Pick up from the “has very little if any conscience” paragraph about six from the end of the story. Not as much sex, but hopefully a good story. Ends happily (ever after) unlike the other version. ...

story continues from part one Traffic 2: Susan and the Cat Lisa was finally ready to try again. It had taken quite a while, and many bags of soothing ice, for her bottom to return to normal. Now, though, all the redness and discomfort was completely gone. Although she had lost her interest in spanking right after her mishap, as she slowly recovered, her desires came right back again. She liked to be spanked. She needed to be spanked. Only within reason, however… she wanted her cheeks to be nicely warmed, NOT thoroughly roasted. ...

Consciousness brought, first, pain, a sharp throbbing that made her wince even before she was aware enough to know why. Next came the sensation of coolness on one side, while something warm pressed against the other. Slowly, as awareness grew, she began silently assessing her situation. She was, she realized, standing naked on a hard pressed dirt surface. The sensation of warmth came from a body pressed against her back, its warm flesh touching hers along the length of her body. Even without seeing, she had no doubt who’s flesh pressed so firmly against hers. ...

From time to time I have these erotic/bdsm dreams or fantasies and every once and a while I want to act out one of them. Last month I told my husband, Techster, about a dream that I had where I was naked on a rotating pedestal before a group of artists. Techster will always help me make my dreams come true, especially if it has me being naked, teased sexually and begging for him to give me an orgasm. This dream came a reality when he spotted a four-foot long piece of the three foot diameter round thick walled tubing that was being used as a form for concrete columns during construction. He tossed the tube in the back of his trusty old diesel pick up truck and brought it home. ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death. I was fortunate to live near enough to a train’s spur line used for parking freight cars, actually fortune had little to do with it as I selected this rental specifically. It wasa somewhat short hike over the mountain from my present house, close enough to hear the train’s impossibly loudhorns when the wind was right, but unfortunately far enough away that I couldn’tfeel the rumble of their passage there. I had grown up near a set of heavily used tracks, their rumble becoming a common and welcome sound at night that might have disturbed the sleep of most normal people. ...

Lindsey’s face, glistening with sweat, wore an expression of wild desperation. How could she have gotten herself into this situation? What had she been thinking?? The pretty young woman lay face-up on a padded table. Her beautiful long legs, held tightly in place by a number of straps, were spread wide. Her arms were stretched out behind her head, wrists cuffed together. A thick leather strap held her down at the waist. She was completely naked. ...

It was a new harness. All broad straps of brown leather with heavy steel buckles. I almost purred as I allowed her to strap it about me. First the collar snug about my throat, then the mass of soft straps that unrolled down about my naked body from that collar. I felt myself shiver as they almost caressed me, curling about my body as their designer had no doubt intended. ...

Authors note: This is a standalone story featuring characters from Homecoming “Isolda!” The shout echoed through the dense trees, its reverberations seemingly swallowed by the huge trunks. Turning, Balian repeated his shout, as if hoping a different direction would bring a response. “Damn it, girl, where are you?” Eyes raking the trees, Balian urged his horse into motion along the faint trail. “Damn girl,” he muttered, “I didn’t come this far to lose you now.” ...

Lisa admired her machine. It consisted of a padded table and a motor with a single mechanical arm. The table had two heavy eye bolts attached - one in the front and one in the back, centered widthwise. Each of these had a short piece of heavy chain running through it - these were for attaching leather wrist and ankle cuffs. The center of the table was elevated, so when she lay on it her bottom was raised up. There was a heavy leather waist strap built into this raised portion. When she was bound to the table it was impossible for her to get free on her own. She would only be released after a timer, which she set beforehand, completed its countdown and lowered the keys she needed to unlock the wrist and ankle cuffs. ...

She knelt before him. Her head was bowed, long auburn hair brushing against the peaks of breasts pushed forward by the position of her arms behind her back. She could not see him, but she felt him shift and heard him flick the rope coil open and begin to run the hemp through his hands with well-seasoned practice. “Hands on your head.” She complied, automatically gathering her hair up with her hands to keep it out of the way, yet keeping her eyes downcast. He moved behind her, close enough that she could just barely feel his chest against her back as he began the chest harness, the rough texture of the hemp teasing her skin as it slid across her chest. He did not speak to her while he built the first harness. It layered above her breasts and below them and then crossed over her shoulders between their fullness, pulling them into obscene prominence. Her nipples, already beginning to pucker, possessed dainty silver loops that contrasted with the rose color of the surrounding areola. He removed her hands from her head and pulled them behind her, pushing her forward into the carpet below in order to work on her arms without her hair being in the way. He took another length of rope and began to run it through his hands, absentmindedly admiring the view before him. Her body curved over her knees to him, exposing her ass and pussy nestled between a firm ass and toned thighs. Her face pressed into the carpet, though he could not see it through her hair. He would have to do something about that hair. He positioned her forearms towards each other and used a basic tie to keep them together. He wasn’t worried about her escape - he simply wanted her hands out of the way. When he was finished, he dragged her up into standing position by the back of her chest harness and reached for the next length of rope. He began the hip harness slowly, making sure the hemp moved as much as possible over her thighs and hips. He liked to watch her facial expression change when he did so. He had known before he got to her hip harness that the rope was turning her on, but now as he tied a few simple knots, he could smell her arousal. Her pussy was smooth-shaven yet unexposed in her current position. Another thing he would have to do something about. Her ankles were last, loops that went quickly with another two lengths of the rough rope. “Spread your legs.” She obeyed, shifting into a wide legged position before him, her legs being the only limbs she could move on her own. “Further.” She inched them out further, feeling the muscles in her inner thighs pull as she did so. He took a spreader bar and affixed one ankle to each end of the wood and leather bar. “Lie down on your stomach.” He watched, amused, as she awkwardly fell to her knees and struggled to fall forward completely with some measure of grace. Once she was on her stomach, he looped another length of rope around the back of her chest harness and up to the suspension ring above him. He did the same with her hip harness; looping the rope through the suspension ring and tying it securely back onto itself. The rope from her two ankles got the same treatment and he positioned the rope such that her knees would bend, yet because of the spreader bar still be well apart. He then pressed a little black button. The hoist the suspension ring had been attached to lifted slowly, taking her off the ground with it. He stopped pressing when she reached his chest and quickly eyed his rope work that had shifted slightly in the ascent. Having met his approval, he smiled at her now exposed pussy - opened wide with her well spread legs, so that he could see the jewelry pierced through her hood and the sheen of wetness that had spread across her inner labia. He pulled all her hair back, smoothing them together and looping a smaller length of rope over it, deftly wrapping and weaving the rough hemp with her silky hair. He pulled on the opposite end of the rope, watching her head raise and arch back in response like a marionette. He tied this end to her wrists, ensuring that her hair was out of the way and her head immovable. The old family grandfather clock announced the time - slightly later than he had planned. He eyed the hall surrounding him. It was mostly ready. The elegant mahogany dining room table with its crisp linens and well-set table was out of position, and missing the food that his cook was preparing in the other room. The guests would arrive shortly. He needed to finish his decorations. He took the Christmas lights and began to carefully wrap his new chandelier with the strand of lights. It vaguely reminded him of putting lights on a Christmas tree when he was a child, having to weave between the branches and pine needles. Only now he was weaving between limbs and rope. The lights went across her chest and torso, though he was careful to leave her nipples free. They wrapped her waist and across her inner thigh, winding down her legs and across the spreader bar, then up the weight bearing rope to the suspension hoop where he had already wound an extension cord around the hoist’s wire length. He plugged the lights into the cord and her body lit up, classic white lights dotting along her whole body. He grinned to himself and began to decorate the tree. He took a traditional glass ball, dainty and red yet with a significant weight to it and hooked it to one of the rings in her nipples. His tree-chandelier made a low noise of surprise in the back of her throat as the weight pulled on her piercing and nipple. He hung the other one, its twin except for the green color, on the opposite nipple, which provoked a slightly louder noise, this one a little more insistent. He raised an eyebrow in question, but his tree said nothing. He held a rubber ball up and angled it towards her mouth. To this rubber ball, a large gold star had been attached. She opened her mouth obediently and his tree had its traditional star. His next ornament was a little glass angel with a gold trumpet and he affixed a long hook to this one and hung it delicately from the silver hoop at her hood. Another noise. He almost wished he could hear his tree more clearly; it always did make such pleasant noises. He then took a large butt plug, well lubed. He slipped a lube-covered finger into her ass hole, fingering her gently to spread some of the lubricant before slowly inserting the plug, watching the resistance give as her asshole widened to accommodate the plug. Atop the plug’s flare was a jolly Santa Claus with a pipe and rosy red cheeks, caught in mid laugh. He was just about done. The final touch was not decorative, however. Her pussy was even wetter than before - he wondered briefly if he had to worry about his chandelier dripping over the Christmas Turkey. He fingered her lightly, spreading the wetness around her labia and watching the tree wiggle as much as she could in her bounds. Then he inserted a vibrating egg into her pussy, on its lowest setting. He popped the remote to the egg in his pocket and called out to his cook in the other room that the table was ready. Or, almost ready. He moved around the table and pushed it a few feet over, so his chandelier was centered above it, about three feet above the table itself. He then lowered the lights in the room so the brightest thing in the room was his chandelier. Smiling to himself at the well-made scene before him, he increased the intensity with the little remote in his pocket. In this light, he could see the lights from his chandelier reflected on his good family silver and the ornaments swinging gently as the tree shifted and squirmed slightly with the vibration coming from her cunt. The cook came in the room with the first course - just as the doorbell rang. The first of his guests had arrived.

Consciousness returned slowly, seeping back into my senses as the effects of the drug began to wear off. For a long time I lay there in the darkness, half-aware, marshalling my forces, as yet ignorant of my situation. I was alive, and sensation reminded me cruelly of this as I became more and more aware of my physical envelope. Returning consciousness was reborn in me on a rising tide of pain. Lying there unmoving I could feel occasional sharp stabbing pains in my anus; a lingering dull ache in my cunt; acute tenderness in my breasts and nipples; a general sensitising of the flesh over my entire body, as if it had been sandpapered… I tried to come to terms with these sensations, wondering why I should feel these things. Many long minutes passed before I opened my eyes. When I did, panic rose immediately to choke and destroy me. I opened my eyes on total blackness. I closed them again, thinking my body was betraying me. I sucked a deep breath into my lungs. The air was close and warm - it felt stale and used up, as if there was little virtue in it. Then, tentatively, I opened my eyes again. Utter blackness prevailed. My heart thudded wildly in my chest - it felt as though it was trying to break out of my body. Adrenalin surged through my veins and all at once I was fully alert. Immediately it became clear that my situation was much worse than a simple matter of total darkness. Although I still felt an extreme lassitude throughout my body, my panic had sent me thrashing in denial against the darkness I perceived and to my horror I found walls where I had expected empty air. Sweat broke out through every pore in my skin and I felt a queasy coil of sickness in my stomach and bile rising within my throat. Somehow I was immured not just in total blackness but within a small space, how small I could not yet determine, but it felt horribly like a coffin… With a supreme effort I attempted to still the panic within me, to quieten my wildly thudding heart, to lessen the gulps of air my lungs were attempting to suck inside of themselves. Not only had I become aware of the fact that I was confined in a coffin-shaped box but I now realised that my feet were bound at the ankles and my wrists too were secured in front of me. In some ways this realisation came as a relief. It had been my nightmare from earliest times, not helped by my reading Poe’s ‘Premature Burial’ at an impressionable age, that some terrible mistake might one day be made and I would be buried alive. But even through my panic, the voice of reason told me that no-one binds the wrists and ankles of someone they believe to be a corpse. This did not mean that I was not, in fact, buried alive; but at least it meant I was not believed to be dead… Small comfort, perhaps, but the possibility remained that those who had confined me here would eventually let me go - so there was hope, at least. Gradually I became calmer, willing myself to breathe shallowly and softly. I wanted to find out as much as I could about the conditions of my confinement. I had only to point my toes to find the end of the box. Slight turning and wriggling of my body made me aware of the walls to right and left of me. I inched myself upwards on my back and felt the other end of the box press against my head. Raising my bound wrists, I felt the lid of the box a mere six inches or so above my face. Summoning up all my strength, even while I knew the effort would be useless, I pushed with every ounce of force I could muster against the lid of the box. Using my knees as well as my arms I heaved and pushed and strove against my prison but of course all my efforts were in vain. Defeated, and newly exhausted, feeling weak as a baby, I relaxed again and once more set about examining my new home. The surfaces were covered with rough fabric, not the quilted satin favoured by undertakers. This was more in the nature of hessian, itchy against my sore skin. My sensitised fingers felt the open weave of the fabric, the fibres seeming huge against the soft pads of my flesh. Unable to see, my senses concentrated themselves in those areas in which I was still aware - touch being the main one. All the time I had been awake I had been aware only of sensory data emanating from my own self. Now I strained to hear, listening for the slightest sound which could tell me whether I was simply locked in a box or whether I was indeed buried… Channelling all my energies into listening, I could hear nothing that gave any indication of a living world outside my prison. The harder I listened, the more I could hear, but all that I heard was the quickened double thud of my heart in my chest, the breaths entering and leaving my lungs. I listened and listened until I could swear I heard the passage of the blood through my veins but of sounds from without the box there were none. Once more I relaxed. Now I tried to remember… How had I come here and what had happened to me, what had been done to me and why? Look back all I could and there was nothing but a foggy blur, a missing episode, elusive, unknowable. What was the last thing that I could remember… leaving the bar at the hotel I was staying at for the conference because I wasn’t feeling very well. I’m not a drinker, but two gin and tonics don’t usually have much of an effect on me. And that’s all I’d had, I knew, yet I had started to feel unsteady on my feet as if already drunk. I’d headed out from the bar towards the lift… and try as I might I couldn’t remember if I’d ever even got into the lift, let alone made it back to my room. Perhaps someone had taken advantage of my state - but more and more likely, it seemed to me, was that in fact I had been the victim of a deliberate drugging - someone must have got to my drinks before I did. I’d been in a group of other delegates, none of whom had made much of an impression on me as yet - it was the first evening meet-and-greet before the conference proper was due to get underway the next day - today? yesterday? I had no way of knowing… How long had I been kept drugged and what use had been made of my body while I was unconscious? What, if anything, had the organisers and other delegates made of my failure to turn up at the first session… As to use, with returning consciousness that was becoming increasingly clear. I gently moved my bound hands over my breasts and abdomen. I could feel raised welts criss-crossing my flesh - possibly not as terrible to look at as they felt, but to the touch alone my body felt as though it was covered in a methodically-raised gridwork of whiplashes, a pattern that became more detailed and complex over my breasts and thighs. My nipples were excruciatingly tender to the touch and I realised now the full significance of the pain in my anus and cunt. Clearly my body had been well and truly used and abused, whether by one man or by many I had no way of telling. Throughout the experience I had either been unconscious or so deeply under the influence of whatever drug had been fed me that I retained no memory of the actual events. The hope I had felt earlier began to ebb away again. How could the perpetrators of these acts ever let me go? Perhaps the box in which they’d locked me was coffin-shaped with intent. I’d regained consciousness but I could not escape. I doubted that there was any point in trying to attract attention to myself but it would be stupid beyond belief not to try. I moistened my dry lips and tried to find my voice. Quaveringly at first, but then increasingly strongly, I began to call for help. My voice grew in volume and I began once more to struggle within my confines, thumping my body against the walls of the box. I shouted and screamed and kicked and hit, over and over, until sweating with effort and shaky with weakness, I once again gave up the struggle. Lying there panting in the foetid darkness, once again I listened, desperate for a response, any sort of response, any liberation from the hell of the box, even if it meant pain and renewed assault. But nothing and no-one responded. Silence reigned supreme. I was alone in the dark, utterly abandoned, forgotten or ignored, and there was nothing whatsoever I could do about it. I gave in to despair. Worse things happened to innocent people every day all over the world. Why should I expect my life to be better than theirs… Into my well-ordered life Chaos had come and destroyed me indifferently. My sufferings were real and enormous to me but they amounted to nothing in the sum of human misery. I was merely one more creature, a thing of flesh and blood, whose life could be snuffed out like a candle and the world would not stop turning for a single second. Tears of self-pity leaked from the corners of my eyes, dripping down into my ears, unheeded, unnoticed, unseen. I didn’t even realise that I was moaning aloud, I shut down my senses and my mind and retreated into nothingness. I would not think, I would not feel, I would cease to strive against the futility of my lot. Perhaps I slept again… I don’t know. There was no way of measuring time apart from by my increasing thirst and the pangs of hunger. There was a taste of salt in my mouth and after recovering from my episode of abject self-pity my over-riding need was for water. My mind tortured me with visions of waterfalls, fountains sparkling in the sun, blue glass bottles full of mineral water, ropes of water twisting out of taps, lakes of the stuff lying placidly under summer skies… Thirst was now my major enemy - I knew thirst would kill me long before starvation did. How long had I been in here and how long ago had I last had something to drink? The sweat had dried on my body or I would have scooped it off and sucked it from my fingers. My throat was parched, I felt that deep dryness one sometimes feels after sleeping open-mouthed, a dryness that seems to reach right inside you. Nothing but water could save me now. They must come and release me soon, either that or they intended me to die. If the latter, I hoped I could simply drift off to sleep once more and not wake up. I no longer cared so much about life - just that my death should not be too agonisingly prolonged. I’d always been a coward and it began to seem to me that death would come as a welcome release. A release from the pain, from my raging thirst, from the fear of what might or might not happen, from the unknown. If the thirst didn’t get me soon, the lack of air would. Evidently the box was not hermetically sealed, but the amount of air that was exchanged was insufficient to sustain life indefinitely. My head throbbed already, my body protesting at the lack of oxygen. Add to the visions of fountains the sensations of wide open spaces, miles of air and blue horizons. My mind was beginning to wander, but now, rather than torture, I felt it as a pleasant escape from the grim realities of my situation. I realised, as if given a gift of revelation, that it didn’t matter any more. I’d been worrying about nothing really. The key to escape was there all the time, safely locked inside my mind. Vast landscapes stretched before me, enticing, beautiful. Should I head up, towards the mountains, the clear air and the dashing, dancing streams, or down, towards the lush green valleys and the pellucid blue of the lake? Wherever I ventured, the earth was sweet and I was free to travel within it. Everything I wanted and needed was spread before my feet. The walls receded, the ties melted away, I filled my lungs with the scented air and stooped to drink my fill from the stream at my feet. I looked up into the face of the sun. I was at peace.

Kara stretched out on the floral-patterned comforter that covered her large bed, enjoying the feeling of the cool material, not yet lent warmth from her flushed, naked body. She spread her long, slender legs and lightly trailed the tips of her long fingernails over her perfectly smooth, hairless snatch. Only a few feet away, sat her favorite sex toy. It was the latest in home-use androids - a fully functional robot that appeared completely human and was programmed for but one, single task. The machine existed to have sex with its owner. And that oh, so very lucky owner was Kara. She licked her lips in anticipation as she eyed her newest fuck-toy. The manufacturer called the machine Stud Lee Mann, though Kara had informed hers that its name was Dick. After all, that part of it was really the sole reason she’d bought it. Everything else was there simply to drive the bit of its anatomy she’d named it for. And, damn, did Dick ever live up to its name! It’s cock was nine solid inches of fat, erect synthetic that felt just like warm, human flesh. And, rather than just fuck until she told it to stop, Dick actually had orgasms. ...

Kara stretched out on the floral-patterned comforter that covered her large bed, enjoying the feeling of the cool material, not yet lent warmth from her flushed, naked body. She spread her long, slender legs and lightly trailed the tips of her long fingernails over her perfectly smooth, hairless snatch. Only a few feet away, sat her favorite sex toy. It was the latest in home-use androids - a fully functional robot that appeared completely human and was programmed for but one, single task. The machine existed to have sex with its owner. And that oh, so very lucky owner was Kara. She licked her lips in anticipation as she eyed her newest fuck-toy. The manufacturer called the machine Stud Lee Mann, though Kara had informed hers that its name was Dick. After all, that part of it was really the sole reason she’d bought it. Everything else was there simply to drive the bit of its anatomy she’d named it for. And, damn, did Dick ever live up to its name! It’s cock was nine solid inches of fat, erect synthetic that felt just like warm, human flesh. And, rather than just fuck until she told it to stop, Dick actually had orgasms. ...

At first these inverted trash can looking robots had been used in hotels as mere novelties, then as domestic servants in private houses with their greater capabilities, and later in the military. I had patiently waited to see what the newest models had to offer, and I was glad I had as the technology of these newest ones was unbelievable. They boasted artificial intelligence, (as did many other things these days), and adaptive reasoning the salesman had boasted. ...

Part 1 I have such fond memories of meeting my Auntie for the first time. She was not really my Auntie, but the new wife of one of my father’s friend. She was exotic, originally from Germany, but with some Italian in her. She had long black hair, she was thin, and on this particular day she was dressed in a leather skirt, boots, and a crop top. It was the mid-eighties and fashionable for men to ditch their wives with their new found fortunes and date much younger women. In this case she was ten years his junior. ...

(story continues from Birching Miss Birch 2) A Mad Bitch Office Manager is tamed by her secretary. An autocratic and abusive office manager, known by all who work under her as “The Mad Bitch,” is retrained during a weekend “Wilderness Bonding Experience” and turned into a submissive slave, lily. Slave lily is a natural-born pain-slut, so this story– eventually– gets to a lot of pain and humiliation. If that isn’t your preferred genre, you might want to skip this story. Also, all sex is F/f, so if you want M/F or M/f, this isn’t your story. ...

Part Two added 16.07.16 Andi could not believe that she had lost th bet. Now she had to pay the price. Her team had lost and done so miserably. Andi had been watching a local football game and she had bet her husband that the visiting team from the town she grew up in would win. As they drove home she knew what he was going to do. You see although they had been married for three years they had no children; mostly because they were into bondage and other sexual fetishes. ...

All my life, I have had this fantasy to be taken out in to the country. Stripped naked, and left tied down naked during a very bad thunder storm. Last year I told John about my storm fantasy. John told me he was ok with my idea. We began looking for a location in the country side. John’s father owns a large lot of land. He runs cattle and a small farm. We have keys to all the gates. We found a location that was just right. A small clearing with trees all around. Very small chance any one would find me by accident. ...

“Go on, it’s what you have always wanted” He looked at me and licked his lips nervously, then turned his face back towards the fate I had laid out for him. Straight from his darkest, deepest fantasies. Four stakes driven deep into the ground, and a length of rope tightly tied to each one. The stakes were driven into the ground in a wide square that could have only one purpose, and he knew exactly what it was. ...

Beth pulled back the curtains by the door. It’s Him! She rushed to open the door standing in full view. She was naked, just as she was every time he came over. She was in full view of anyone who may glance in her direction and she loved it. The red head stepped out onto the porch wrapping her arms around him. He pulled her in kissing her powerfully in the sun light. Then he turned her around and with a swat to Beth’s bare ass he sent her running back into the house. ...

Ms Summers placed her hand into the Tupperware and pulled out the tiny little naked man. He wriggled between her long fingers, and Ms Summers graced him with a warm smile from lips impossibly big. She never took her eyes off him as she addressed him. Whatever he said was too quiet to be heard, but he struggled with more vigour and beat futilely at the huge fingers that held him. ...

story continued from part four Part 4b: Tormented Toni “Do you want to be my slave?” Sam asked Toni. “Yes, Master Sam.” “Why?” “Master I have always fanaticized about the idea of bondage. I’ve always dreamed of being naked, in chains, and being beaten with a whip or crop. Seeing you and slave Connie in action has made me want to experience my dreams in real life. Connie told me that you were a kind caring Master, and I would trust you with the safety of my body. Please take me as your slave, Master Sam.” ...

I’m Jake. I’m 32, single, living in Lincoln, Nebraska. For as long as I can recall I’ve been interested in bound sexual play, tied up sex. In my relationships I’ve always been quick to ask about interest in bondage. Any relationship where my girlfriend didn’t want to be tied didn’t last long - on to the next girl. My bondage has always been agreed to, a consensual exchange of control. My ideal sweet spot is willing beforehand, nonconsensual/reluctant/forced during, happy & glowing after. I’ve had an interest in girls doing selfbondage, but until recently I’d only read stories about it. ...

What would you do to get on the last ship off a doomed planet? Everyone was seeking an opportunity to get off-planet before an asteroid destroyed all life on Earth, and the Zorteff controlled the colony ships. But if you were not a scientist going into space for training or someone selected for the colony ship, your only chance– if you were a woman– was to go with the Zorteff as one of their “servants.” If a woman did that, she would live, but it would be as a sex slave on the Zorteff home planet. ...

Chapter 01: The Train Tracks Sheila and I had known each other for about a year, been dating about six months, but had been into the kinky side of her personality for only a few weeks. As a matter of fact, this was the first time she had ever tried to get anyone to see or even witness what she called one of her major games. She had been wanting to show me something, that she said was one of her hottest self-bondage things, something she had done to herself many times before and never failed to wind up sexually exhausted every time she did it. Of course I was interested but she wouldn’t tell me much more about it, she said she was afraid I’d think her weird. She finally, after a lot of prodding and a little bit of threatening, volunteered that it involved her hanging by her wrists from a railroad bridge. She wouldn’t tell me any more, just wanted my promise that I would do whatever she asked and reassured me that it obviously didn’t hurt her, and it would be worth my time to watch. ...

She was sprawled naked on her bed, savoring the after-glow of her Master’s ‘good morning’ fuck. He had just left her, disappearing into his lab, telling her that he had to get his birthday surprise ready for her. She was breath-takingly beautiful, with wide blue eyes, a small, slim nose and a wide, full-lipped mouth. Her long thick glossy hair flowed over her shoulders and framed her face, hi-lighting her even, regular features. Her shoulders were wide and they needed to be, to support her lush, full 35D breasts, they stood straight out from her chest, sagged not at all and were crowned with plump, cherry red nipples the size of her thumb. ...

I always had a morbid curiosity for certain things. One of them is knowing what it felt like to be buried alive. So a couple of frame carpenter pals helped me build a “burial box” in which I could experience burial without the risk of being snuffed. Since I’m a rather tall gal the box had to extend at least 6 (six) to 8 (eight) inches above my head & below my feet, there had to be a foot and a half to each side of my body. ...

I always had a morbid curiosity for certain things. One of them is knowing what it felt like to be buried alive. So a couple of frame carpenter pals helped me build a “burial box” in which I could experience burial without the risk of being snuffed. Since I’m a rather tall gal the box had to extend at least 6 (six) to 8 (eight) inches above my head & below my feet, there had to be a foot and a half to each side of my body. ...

Dashed this one off to try telling a trashbagging story from a different perspective - that of a clueless neighbor who helps set out the garbage. Pure fiction.. Something strange happened where I live and I felt I just had to write it down so that maybe it would become clearer. Guess I better provide a bit of background in case I share this with someone. I live in a typical suburban community of similar houses. We have rear entry garages with driveways to an alley. The development is new so few of the trees are tall and most of them are in the front yards. Most of my neighbors are young couples who leave every morning to commute to work. There are a small number of us who work from home using the cable company’s fast Internet service. That means we don’t see our neighbors much because even on weekends they go out to do shopping, restaurants, etc. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Alice in Thunderland is a nerdy, sci-fi, fantasy, bdsm, romance. If you are not nerdy or into sci-fi fantasy, you can skim through the first half and go directly to the playroom scene. The BDSM is traditional and timeless. It involves all aspects - BD, DS, & SM. There is some erotic pain, but it is relatively mild. ...

5: His Birthday Present Don was waiting out in front of his house, just as Nel and I had asked him to. I pulled up in front of his family’s house in my small pickup truck, out near one of the edges of the small desert town where we all lived. Mid-summer, and even though it was about an hour before sunset it was hot, still over 90 degrees. Even in the middle of the night it wouldn’t be below 80. Don looked slightly confused, and sort of bored as he watched me park. Earlier when we called, he said he didn’t have any plans. Boy, was his night going to get much more interesting for him real, real quick. ...

Part 1: Meeting Kitty For years I have browsed model camming sites. I guess it adds to the regularity of looking up either porn stories from Grometsplaza, porn pictures or videos with the actuality of talking to a naked model. Years I have spent talking to many different women from many countries from the world, all talking about different subject matters that usually had something to do with sex. I had gotten familiar with a few and talked to them regularly and some of the models were a onetime only talk. It was fair to say that I soon found a subject matter that both interested me and the model for a nice conversation and that was bondage. Having an open mind, being a SWITCH and generally having an interest in any type of kink anyone spoke about allowed me to have a variety of conversations with the many models who had popped onto my screen. ...

Sally becomes a newbie blue band girl at The O Club. Sally’s hidden yearnings are brought to the surface when three of her friends convince her to go with them to experience The Slime Pit at a local place called The O Club. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * ...

(Story is based on a true story, names have been changed for privacy) My name is Tessa, I started doing self bondage a couple of months ago and I really enjoyed it. But in the first couple of weeks I was scared for being discovered while being bound and it really scared me off for doing heavy self bondage. And I didn’t want to call friends since I didn’t know anyone who liked it. But I decided to do an outside bondage scene. And I wanted to keep it simple for the first time, because I didn’t want to be discovered or something like that. ...

(story continues from The Ship’s Queen 4) Part Five “Yes, I had served with them once, why do you ask?” “It would violate a confidence if I were to tell you sir.” I didn’t want to inform on the muscular cargo man Mr. Kane, and what I thought was his rather unique form of sailor torture porn starring me getting whipped while strung up in a similar fashion. It made me wonder at the time how a cargo man could afford such an expensive device, and that in turn forced me to reflect on the Captains words in private with me about making a proper visit to Mr. Cook “in the flesh”. The implication was simple, I, (or at least my hologram), had already visited with him not in the flesh, just as I had already visited with Mr. Kane in much the same way. ...

It was once again time for the national UFO convention, and that meant that we had to keep especially close track of certain individuals of interest to us. Most of the convention’s attendees were harmless enough, some just as crazy as we tried to portray them to encourage the population not to take them seriously, and others just plain fun and out to make a buck. There were of course some true believers in the group with real experiences, and it was my duty to keep track of one of those specifically, and the others generally. She was twenty seven years old and the guys on the detail with me called her Red, even though she had a more official code name for surveillance purposes. Red was a natural red head (the guys had told me, as if I truly wanted to know) and quite stunning, and I had drawn the duty of watching her because she was very distracting to the male members of our detail. Red was pretty sharp too, she never carried a cell phone of any kind, and she drove an older car manufactured before tracking technology had been embedded into their systems. ...

Authors note: This is a standalone story featuring characters from Homecoming It was a small courtyard, at least compared to others she’d seen. Glancing around, she doubted even five hundred could fit here, no matter how closely packed. This smallish fort near the border was never meant for the kind of meeting about to take place. This was a place for soldiers, not show. Around her were nearly one hundred people, their rich clothing a sea of reds and yellows. Beside her stood the focus of this gathering, his own clothing even richer and brighter than those around him. Like the rest, he watched the front gate, on the far side of the courtyard. ...

continued from part four This was told to me by Vicky and Suzan. At the moment they are tied up so I will relate the story to you. The names have been changed to protect the kinky. Part 5: Into the Woods Sunday could not come too soon; work was a drag due to inventory. Now that Sunday was here, time to get ready for Suzan’s bondage. We packed a backpack, checking the inventory: butt plug, dildo, twist tie, ankle and wrist restraints, ball gag, blindfold, and a rubber hood. Then there was the rope and snap rings; we had paced off the area were Suzan would be tied off and cut the ropes to length. Suzan made sure the video camera was charged. I brought some bottled water and a can of bug spray so Suzan would not be hassled by the little critters. ...

Chapter 1 Smack! The wrench slipped, and even though Carl was pulling instead of pushing on it, his fingers still managed to be driven into a row a screw tails. The wrench flew from his grasp, and he heard it go clattering off down the inside of the fuel tank, heading towards the fuselage of the airliner he was working on. “Goddamnsonofabitch!” He muttered, clenching his teeth and gripping his hand. His two middle fingers had taken most of the impact, and it felt like they had just been stung by a few very upset hornets. Things just weren’t going his way today, starting with being assigned to work inside the wing of an old airliner and heading downhill from there. ...

A business trip to the back end of France, here I was in the middle of nowhere! Nothing around for miles and miles except countryside. I had not seen a single person here except for the woman that let me into the site. The site was boring but had been taken over by one of my UK customers, they wanted their IT systems integrating, which in itself had taken about 4 hours. I was booked here for a week. I was staying in an attached flat. Which was so far into rural France there was barely power. We had to pull all sorts of tricks out the bag to set up a wireless network just to get this company connected to the internet. I had completed my work, and there was nobody due back to the site for the next five days, then it was just for a test of the systems and a signature so I could be on my way back to the channel tunnel. ...

Lucy lay on the bed in front of Jason, ready for the night’s session. She was in “the position” which is face down, fingers interlocked behind her neck and legs spread. Jason approached and ran his hand up her shapely leg and let it glide quickly over a firm ass cheek. Fingers traced slowly up her spine, stopping at her hands. He grabbed her wrist firmly and lifted it, ratcheting a handcuff shut around it. The other wrist was cuffed as well and Lucy’s arms were lifted above her head. Next a rope was wrapped around each ankle and tied off to the corners of the bed, a little tug ensuring her legs were well sperated. ...

I was a student at a west coast university some years ago, with several changes in major and not really expecting ever to graduate. My way was paid in full, and I saw no reason to hurry to get out in the “real world” and get a job, and all that get up early garbage I saw some of my friends doing. My present major was political science, and the only reason I chose that was it looked easier than my last major. Despite the easy nature of my latest chosen field, I found myself falling below the GPA level that guaranteed my free ride, but fortunately I wasn’t alone. ...

Julie lived not far from the lake. Like all the lakes in this part of the country it was built to both control flooding and to store water during the long hot summer. The last few years had seen below normal rainfall so the lake was about 12 feet below its “full pool” level. Twelve feet vertically meant that a lot of dry land surrounded the remaining lake. Lakeside houses sat 1/4 mile from the lake, their docks, boats houses and even power boats high and dry in the middle of weed covered fields. There were lots of impromptu roads leading down to the lake, the trails of SUVs and pickups belonging to fishermen with dwindling hopes and high school couples seeking privacy – with high hopes. ...

The sorority had a problem, it was too popular. The House could only accept 25 new pledges from the freshman class and 36 girls had been accepted as pledges. Eleven of them had to go. Simone was the head of the chapter and was having a difficult time making the cut. The House had ties to the most popular fraternity on campus, one known for accepting good looking boys with money and connections. This made the sorority very attractive to girls eager to meet and date those boys. And then there were the rumors… It was known that the girls all wore House necklaces. That they were BDSM collars and that freshman and sophomore girls were expected to be submissives and serve as sex slaves was actually true. But it was only rumor to those outside the sorority and the fraternity. Pledges thought that the collars and what they were made to do were just part of the pledge hazing. Many of the new girls were surprised when there were frat boys invited to inspect them naked. Few complained when ordered to let the boys touch and fondle them. After all this was part of the rumors and had itself preselected girls who were active sexually and eager for such experiences. So now Simone and the upper class sisters had a problem. All 36 girls had great bodies, most had already shown their heated nature and willingness to please both the boys and their older sisters. In fact one early pledge event had involved having each girl, naked and blindfolded, crawl to a chair, spread the legs of the seated person and use her mouth to make the person cum. They had to please two of them, one male and one female. If a pledge refused or was not able to make the person cum, they were eliminated. Surprisingly, only four pledges had been eliminated this year. Knowing how important it was for the sisters to stick together, and that some of them would be the future Mistresses as upper class, she needed something that would cement them through a shared choice and that would reveal who had leadership or skill as a dominant. The event planned for this Saturday would be just the thing. The 36 girls were taken individually to the House laundry room and told to strip and put all their clothes in the wash before being led down the hall to the cellar stairs. This hall was lined with the upper class men and women of both the sorority and the fraternity. The gauntlet of groping and fondling and stroking left the pledges quite aroused and excited. Once they were all down in the cellar, Simone told them, “You have one hour to play with each other, make the most of it.” The cellar was empty with a floor covered with easily cleaned thick exercise mats. The room was of course wired for sound and video so the rest of the girls and the guys from the frat House could watch. It proved both entertaining and rather athletic, a bit like a twister tournament that left most of the girls only partially sated. After the hour of physical activity Simone opened the door and tossed in a box of wipes and a roll of giant heavy duty bin liner plastic bags. “Clean the mats and fill 6 bags with trash. Yell when you are done.” The pledges made sure all the mats were cleaned, but the used wipes did nothing to fill one bag, let alone six. So when they called out and Simone returned, she acted angry when they explained there was nothing to fill the trash bags. Simone said, “Nonsense, I see six bag fulls of trash down there. Only 30 pledges move on after tonight. Deal with it.” Simone returned to the lounge to watch. They would learn who was least popular, and who stepped up as a leader to suggest the 6 should be the trash. With that, the door was closed and Simone joined the rest in the lounge in front of the big screen TV. The most assertive of the pledges, Elaine shouted, “Quiet! They want to reduce our count by 6. It’s obvious isn’t it? We have to stuff 6 of us into those bags.” It did not take long for the pledges to break up into 4 groups and after they whispered together the 4 leaders started to argue about how to decide who would be discarded. No one wanted to draw straws, or hairs since that was all they had. Drawing the short hair got a laugh but no one wanted to leave things to chance. The leaders of the two biggest groups stepped aside before approaching one of the other groups. The two smaller cliques each had 6 members. It took very little time before it became clear that one group of 6 was all alone… As it turned out, the 6 were the ones with the least confidence and when it became clear they had been chosen, Tamara, their leader spoke up. “I always knew I was just trash, this only proves it. Ok, bag me up, I might as well be thrown out like garbage.” Two others nodded in agreement while the other three started to cry. At that moment, the door opened and 6 gags and 6 binding ropes were tossed into the cellar. ...

This is a ongoing story, however at least the first two chapters can be read separately. Hope you enjoy again feedback will be greatly appreciated as this is a first time story. Story continues from part two Part 3: Slave Kate I walked back to my truck to get my camera. Once at my truck I open my toy bag. I grab a hood with a locking collar a leash and a 12" chain. Not wanting to leave my captive too long unattended I head back to the clearing. ...

Greg grabbed his lunch off the counter and stopped to kiss his wife goodbye. It was supposed to be that easy, but he had to stop and take another look. “Wow, you’re looking really dressed up today. Something going on at work?” He quickly took in the dark jacket over the snug white top. The matching dark skirt looked a bit bulky, but it was halfway up her thigh and he felt an urge to lift it up. The snug top surprised him, but also created an uncomfortable bunching in his pants. ...

By now the world (especially our family) must know that Techster and I enjoy challenging each other with some very “adult XXX rated games”. Once again we had a discussion about “simple bondage” and I told Techster that I could win any “bondage simplified” challenge with just one item. What I didn’t tell him was that I had a plan using nothing but a combination lock. Of course I planned to use an existing eyebolt on our privacy fence and the “Ring of steel” collar that he always wears. ...

(story continues from Paula & Jane Endure Elbow Bondage Training)_ _Following on from the “Part One” Part 2: The Elbow Bondage Training Continues Storycodes: Jane and I had been continuing our elbow training for the best part of a month, and it was frustrating me that Jane was more flexible that I was. Her elbows seemed to easily go together behind her back. It had only taken a couple of weeks for her. ...

Tammy is the author of Tales of the Green Valley series. This is an account of a True and recent experience (April 11-13, 2015) I thought I had planned well and got in a lot deeper than I expected. Another lesson in why this type of play should remain as fantasy and is NOT for solo play, have a partner/rescue plan if you consider doing this. Better yet, DON’T! I was interested in experiencing part of what Betsy did in story # 17: New to the Game and this is what happened. Maybe this true story will help prevent a bad mistake by someone new to this. ...

Whilst this story is mostly true, there’s just a little creative license in the details, enjoy. Like all things in life, sometimes you have to take the initiative, even if it means taking away your own control. Sometimes it works, other times it doesn’t. This is one of those stories. A few days ago, on a cold, wet Sunday, I had to clear some land we’d been renting but, with our tenancy up, everything had to go and with no intention of taking our children into the howling wind and rain, I did it all myself, moving a lot of heavy items in the process. On my return, my wife promised that later, she’d give me a rub down and a blow job. Amazingly, I didn’t think anything of it at the time and we went about the rest of our day. ...

story continued from part four Part 5: The Long Winter of Discontent and Planning Lynn looked longingly at the pictures on the internet. She was bored. Bored with her job just a little, and bored with her “extracurricular activities”, her “dark desires”, a lot. It was winter, so outdoor adventures were out. Wisconsin gets fiercely cold, so venturing outside without clothes is just not possible. Being bound inside, naked, was so unexciting anymore. No fear. No danger. No chance to be caught, not that Lynn wanted to be caught. It was the excitement of the possibility of being caught that lit her flame. ...

This is a true story about the first 3 times I was tied up. When I was in high school with my boyfriend, (now my husband), John. I would tell John of my dreams of being taken out to the country, being forced to strip naked, be tied up and left there. John and I were out of school for our summer vacation when John asked me, “Do you want me to kidnap you, take you out to the deep woods, and tie you up for the day?” ...

I arrived at my new Mistress’ house promptly at 9 pm. We had never met but had spoken frequently since I answered her ad in a swingers magazine. She wanted someone who was very openminded and was delighted when I told her I was into submission and wanted to be a slave. We chatted about this subject often until I agreed to be her and her husband’s slave. She did have a concern with me as I was not experienced in serving and had never been with a man before. She was new to domination but was studying extensively. This first meeting was to get aquainted but she had told me to expect anything and had found out what time I was to be at work the next day. ...

A few months ago, when laying in bed after I was spent by a wonderful evening of sex, my boyfriend Mike, asked me if I would like to be a living doll in a full size box like those in stories I read on a web site. “Well not exactly like those dolls but you would be in a box with clear plastic”. “Well I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it. You mean I would be tied in a box like a new doll?” ...

This is the first time I have written a story for a website. I have written some for friends but not at this level. I do look forward to feedback both sides good and bad. I do try and write in one of the character’s perspective and I would love to find someone to co-author this with me writing Kate’s perspective, if interested let me know. Thanks in advance for the feedback. ...

This is a ongoing story, however at least the first two chapters can be read separately. Hope you enjoy again feedback will be greatly appreciated as this is a first time story. Story continues from part one Part 2: Kate’s Story My name is Kate. I have been into bondage since I was ten, my brother Dirk and I used to tie each other up. I always thought at first we both must be crazy with the things we used to do to each other. But that is another story all together maybe I will tell you about those later. Anyway I am Five foot two inches with shoulder length red hair. Guys say my best feature are my legs, personally I think they’re my breasts being a 34C with nice curves. I live in a small town with a community college that I attend. Being from the north there is plenty of places where I can practice my self-bondage. There really isn’t a lot to do in this town spend evening at the local bar and that is about it. I had just finished my finals and was looking for some of my favorite stress relief. I had been looking at some property north of the school which was perfect for my plans. ...

My wife and I used to go out a lot. Weekends were filled with day trips to malls, farmers’ markets and antique shops. While we didn’t spend a lot, it was just enjoyable spending time together going places we’d never been and seeing new sights. That ended about a year ago when my wife was involved in an automobile accident. She injured her back and, at first, it looked like a full recovery was on the way. Unfortunately, the physical therapy stopped working and her condition worsened again leaving her unable to do most normal activities. She now spends a good bit of time in bed and is exhausted after even a few hours of activity. ...

“What are you doing here?” Kendell Raines grinned. “What’s wrong, Trevor, not glad to see me?” Turning, Kendell thrust one hip toward Trevor Wallace, then cupped both breasts. “Or would you rather see me another way?” Trevor, she knew, had always wanted to see her naked, and she couldn’t resist the chance to tease him a little. “I mean,” Trevor said tersely, “what are you doing on my site? This is a scientific dig, and we don’t need you prancing around with your mumbo jumbo.” ...

My wife, Jen and I had been married for 6 wonderful years. We had a very adventurous intimate life that took us to many fantasy places and included all manner of adventure. We had enjoyed all sorts of fantasy play and fetish exploration. Bondage, S&M, Latex fetish, Domination, you name it, we gave it all a shot. But despite the incredible life behind closed doors there was one secret fetish I had never told her about. My deep rooted love of black trash bags. I don’t know why I had never told her about it, we had shared our darkest most depraved fantasies with each other. But for some reason this one seemed too dark, too strange to let out in the open. I regularly practiced my enjoyment of black bags in private, when she wasn’t home. In public by hiding in dumpsters full of garbage, enclosed in my own black bag, waiting for the surge of energy when a stranger disposed of their own garbage on top of me. The rush of being caught was incredible, and I had many, many fulfilling orgasms in many many dumpsters. I couldn’t explain the fetish, I’ve just always had it. I had done such a good job of keeping it secret for all these years that I had started to get careless with my pursuit of personal pleasure. I had devised a way to vacuum seal myself into a trash bag with nothing more than a straw to breath out of to keep myself from blacking out, I would seal 2 55 gallon trash bags together, then attach a valve that I could open and close from the inside to a vacuum, climb inside, turn on the vacuum, tie the bag shut, seal my lips on the breathing apparatus, then stick the valve to the vacuum, the suction would rapidly pull all of the air out of the bag and it would clamp down on my bare flesh. The feeling of the bag sealed tightly to my skin was the ultimate rush. I was helpless to move, except to roll over, and grind my cock against the bag until I exploded in a writhing orgasm. When spent, I could pull away from the vacuum and let the air flow back into the bag. When it was less vice like, I could untie the bag, climb out and continue on my day with nobody being any the wiser. I had been performing this act randomly for years with no issues. I knew my wife’s schedule very well, I knew when I could engage this fantasy, and when I couldn’t. Jen had headed off to work for the day. She was looking very sexy wearing a mini dress, and a pair of heels that accentuated her long toned legs. Her ass looked amazing, as did her tight body. She was a sight to behold. I asked her where she was heading dressed up so sexily, and she responded that she had a meeting with a client that could potentially secure her company a significant financial backer. She needed to nail the meeting, so she was dressed to impress. She headed out the door and all I could do was watch as my little man grew hard watching her walk down the walkway to her car. I knew she was going to be gone all day, and probably into the night, I had a raging hard on, and determined that this would be the perfect time to take advantage of my little trash bag prison. I went downstairs to the basement and gathered all of the materials I needed to seal myself in ecstasy and release my pent up pressure. After I got everything I needed I set myself up as I had done many times before, I attached the vacuum to the valve, climbed into the bag, wrapped my mouth around the breathing tube, tied the bag over my head, laid back and switched on the vacuum. The air was quickly sucked out of the bag and I was perfectly encased in the shiny black plastic. It felt so cool against my skin. I started to writhe and buck. I had found a way to shut the vacuum off and close the valve so the bag would stay sealed to my body without the noise of the vacuum ruining the sensations I felt. So I switched off the vacuum and just laid there enjoying the closeness of the plastic to my skin. I could feel the pressure around my swollen member, and hear the crinkle of the bag as I thrust around. Suddenly my taboo fetish world was shattered when I heard Jen say in an alarmed tone, “What the fuck is going on here?” She had used the meeting as a ploy to tease me, she knew that her outfit was going to get my blood flowing and her intention was to come back and use her physical appearance to tease me, then please me. She had caught me in the act of something she had never seen before. She looked upon me sealed tightly inside a trash bag, It conforming to every curve of my body, My rock hard cock straining against the shiny black plastic. I was on the verge of orgasm when she spoke. I was twitching inside the bag, ready to cum. Her voice instantly stopped my action. I couldn’t speak so I just laid there. She walked over to me and said again, “What the fuck are you doing? is this how you behave when I’m not around?” I shook my head shamefully agreeing with her question. she continued, “I suppose you didn’t think I knew about this little thing you have here did you? I know what makes you tick my dear husband. I see the clues, I’ve found the bags. I didn’t however think this is what was going on. Do you like to be treated like garbage?” She put her foot on my chest and yelled, “Answer me!” I shook my head again. It was all I could do other than groan, the tube in my mouth made it impossible for me to talk. I felt her kneel down beside me, she ran her hand over my chest. I writhed. She watched my cock swell inside the bag. “I can see how hard you are. You really enjoy being vacuum sealed inside a trash bag don’t you?” she said as she traced her fingernails down my chest, over my stomach and down across the underside of my throbbing cock. I groaned as she traced the line. She responded to my groaning and bucking by rubbing my dick through the plastic. She stated, “I’m going to make you cum, it’s going to be slow, and I’m going to enjoy this more than you are, but when you are done we are going to have a conversation about this as I’m not exactly pleased that you have been engaging in this kind of play without my knowledge.” She started to rub my member slowly. The flash of heat from her hand and the contrast with the cold black bag clinging to my body made me shiver. She spit onto my groin and rubbed carefully, listening to my breathing and moaning. Sensing that I was going to explode she stopped, bringing me to the raw, bitter edge. She let me cool down then continued. She kept edging me like this for an hour, every time getting me closer to orgasm. It was torture. I thought I was going to black out when she finally brought me to completion. I erupted, bucking wildly as she rubbed my cock and balls furiously. She was very turned on watching me throb and empty my balls in the bag, She could see every vein of my manhood as it strained against the shiny black plastic. She could see every pulse as the cum dumped out of my balls. She would never admit it, but she was on the ragged edge herself. Jen instructed me to get out and get cleaned up then to meet her in the kitchen for a conversation regarding my depraved behavior. I did as she instructed. I sat down beside her in the kitchen. I couldn’t even look her in the eyes as I was so ashamed of what she had caught me doing, I didn’t know what to say. She was still dressed in her mini dress and heels, looking sexy as ever. I didn’t notice the flush of her skin as she was immensely aroused by what had just transpired. She took it upon herself to trigger a massive orgasm as she waited for me to clean up. She asked me how I got involved in such an odd fetish and I told her that I didn’t know, It had been there since I was a child. She asked why I hadn’t told her about it before. I sheepishly shrugged, I didn’t know how to answer. She asked me how far it had gone. I danced around some of the details. She eventually got me to admit that I had been spending time inside dumpsters letting people throw their trash on me. She asked if I had ever been in a compactor. I looked at her wide eyed and responded with a resounding, “NO!” She got a little smirk on her face and asked, “Do you want to be?” I stammered, unable to think how to answer this question. She replied with, “I can make your ultimate fantasy come true. I will make you trash, and dispose of you in the compactor in the parking lot. I know what you have been doing and have researched this for months. It’s safe, they empty the compactor on Monday every week, If I throw you in there on Tuesday, you can stay in it until Saturday being nothing but trash, then I’ll pop the lid and get you out!” I just sat there dumbfounded that she would even make such a suggestion. “Wouldn’t I get killed in there?” I stated. “No!” she responded, “I’ve been doing a lot of research and I’ve seen it when it gets emptied into the big garbage truck. It usually isn’t packed too tight. I think you would be fine!” She smiled at me with her big bright smile and said, “Let me help you live out this fantasy.” She looked into my eyes, “I know you want this, I’ve see the videos you watch online of people in dumpsters. I can make this very much worth it to you, let’s do it!” I looked at her for a long time trying to wrap my head around the fact that she wasn’t mad, she wasn’t going to leave me for keeping this crazy fetish to myself. On the contrary, she was actually encouraging me to live out the ultimate fantasy. I agreed. She looked at me and said, “Great, on Tuesday night we are going to have us a little fantasy. Now get the fuck over here and fuck me. You have no idea how much that turned me on you piece of filth!” I obliged her instruction and fucked her hard. I didn’t even take the dress off, I just bent her over the counter and fucked her until she came, again and again then I dumped my load inside her tight pussy. ...

Jim stepped out of the back door in jogging pants, hoody top and trainers carrying a metal toolbox. He locked the door and put the key in the masterlock keysafe. Walking down the garden and through the gate to the footpath running alongside the bird sanctuary. The motion activated security light switched off leaving just the soft moonlight illuminating the path. 50 yards along another footpath lead into the sanctuary, this ran about 800 yards to a wooden birdwatchers hide. Another path passed by the hide from the golf course to a tea garden and row of cottages. All the paths had thick undergrowth along them ideal for ground feeding birds. ...

story continued from part one Part 2 I took Lisa to a quiet little diner for lunch. Things were a little awkward, at first. But I could see the excitement in her eyes. I knew she probably had loads of questions for me but didn’t want to embarrass me by asking. I waited until our order was taken before giving her the opening to talk freely. “I’m sure you want to ask me about some things and I suppose you aren’t sure how to start. Why don’t you just ask the first thing that comes to mind?” ...

We had been friends for the longest time, however we had never let anything happen for random reasons, when Claire was single, I was not and when I was single Claire was in a relationship! It was just one of those things. Well all that changed the other night, I really wanted to see 50 Shades, despite knowing it would be a total let down after all the hype, but I was single and had no one to go with, so I thought I would give Claire a call to see if she fancied seeing it. We had got to the stage in our relationship, after 10 years, of just accepting that we would always be friends. I knew hardly anything about her sexual preferences and she knew little about mine. ...

Bill walked gruffly into the bedroom, still dressed in his suit and tie from work. He held a chain in a clenched fist which led somewhere beyond the threshold. The chain suddenly snagged and he heard a strained rustling from out of sight. Giving the chain a stern yank, he overcame its resistance and Alice came stumbling into the room, the chain attaching to a leather collar buckled around her neck. She might have removed it, but similarly daunting leather cuffs kept her hands bound securely behind her back. ...

Part 1 When I was in college I met Felicia Knight. She was a year ahead of me in school but we became good friends. During my second year in collage we got a 2 bedroom place together. I liked not living in the dormitories so I could practice my hobby, self-bondage. I have liked bondage since I was in high school but I never found someone I trusted enough to tie me up. That left me doing it to myself. I spent the next 4 years getting a Master’s Degree in business. Felicia however left after only getting a 4 year degree because she came into a fortune and started a business. I had stayed in touch with her so she showed up to my graduation and offered me a job. I was surprised by the money she offered so I accepted. ...

So Christmas has been and gone for another year and so I thought I’d share my post Christmas story with you. The day after Christmas, my wife took the kids to her sister’s. I don’t get on with my brother-in-law so am excused this “pleasure” and was happy because I’d already concocted other plans. Before I left, I locked myself in my cb-3000 chastity device and left the key on the side. Being locked in it is exciting enough but knowing I couldn’t get out until I’d completed my adventure made it more so. ...

story continued from part ten Chapter 11: Notice of Discipline One of the rooms in Beth’s house served as her office. After all, she was wealthy, and not only had a family fortune, but she also served on the Boards of several large corporations! In fact, it was a fully functional office, with a computer, printer, copier, file cabinets, water dispenser, and even a coffee maker! There was even a separate desk for a secretary, if she had one! ...

story continued from part nine Chapter 10: Sleeping Arrangements Beth and Cassandra sat together on the cot in the jail cell together. After being let down from their respective ceiling chains, Kate had conducted them into the jail cell to get a little water and rest. Both women had been subject to quite considerable discipline, and their naked bodies displayed the evidence for this. Angry red marks were the evidence of the flogger and whip, and neither would be subject to discipline again for a while! ...

(This is a repost - The original lives at: https://fetlife.com/users/12075/posts/2354782 ) (The following is a work of fiction… but it contains nothing that could not be real under other circumstances.) Yesterday, when I was discussing this with my best friend, the conversation was straight to the point. He asked: “You know, you’ve done this before. And you’ve gotten hurt every time. Heck, you’ve even done this with HER before. What makes you think it will go any differently this time?” ...

A shy exhibitionist is taken to dinner and a show by her husband. Jerry has decided to give his wife, Janet, the special gift she had requested for their fifth anniversary. First a marvelous dinner at their favorite restaurant, and then a very special show that she will remember for a long, long, time. This story is primarily about exhibitionism, but there is an overtone of bondage and some more than consensual spanking action. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = ...

story continued from part eight Chapter 9: The Discipline Society “Who shall I begin with?” asked Mistress Allison, to her two naked charges, bound in front of her. “I’d like to go first, Mistress Allison,” begged Cassandra. “Why is that, darling?” “Because I was the one who suggested a day out to Beth, Mistress Allison,” Cassandra replied. “That makes you guilty party, does it not?” “Yes, Mistress!” “I was more thinking along the lines of a coin toss or having Kate draw high card for you two. There is at least and element of chance there in determining who goes first. But if you’re offering yourself, then that is all right with me!” ...

story continued from part three Part 4: Rosie’s Story - Betty buys the “Farm” Playing in that old barn with the other girls had its effect on Rosie, just as it had with the other girls. She had a great time in the company of the “gang”, and enjoyed the secret club that they called the “Gang of 4”. She was always a very private person and did not let the others know how she felt about their more daring escapades. She just seemed to go along for the ride. Unassuming and innocent as she might seem, this river flowed deep. ...

Part 1 I guess I’ve always had a thing for small spaces. There is just something about being in somewhere warm dark and secure that gets to me and has done ever since I was a kid. Of course back then it was just fun but every time I played hide and seek I’d end up in a cupboard or a box or something. I’m thankful that it didn’t cause much comment really, my friends all knew that I would spend time on my own in a box or in one of my Mum’s cages ...

I awoke this morning with a smile on my face. My pet was lying next to me in the bed. It was awake. There was a vacant look on it’s face, staring off into space. There was little it could do, since the chain attached to it’s collar was keeping it there. And, with the arms removed, there was little it could do to get out of the situation. I was smiling because life was so much better for me now since the unexpected lottery win. But who would expect winning $185 million? ...

story continued from part seven Chapter 8: Cabin Fever In the weeks since Cassandra had agreed to become Beth’s employee and bondage companion, her life now truly revolved around bondage and discipline. After the nearly catastrophic day when she interrupted Mistress Allison when she had been flogging Kate; all because Kate had not asked Mistress Allison if she could give Cassandra a tour of the Playroom. Her punishment for her transgression was to choose the instrument of her own discipline; and she had decided upon the fearsome black leather whip. Cassandra had undergone a terrible ordeal that had left her marked, but at the same time she had experienced a great sexual climax as the lines between pain and pleasure had melted away. ...

story continues from part eight The final part of “My Butler James” has two endings, one of which is a somewhat happy ending and the other an alternate dark ending. Part 9a: The Pay Per View Heiress = Good & Part 9b: Gloria’s Last Scene = darker ending - you choose. Part 9a: The Pay Per View Heiress Hours later the black helicopters landed and deposited their human cargo, teams of black uniformed men with no rank insignia or service branch evident on their uniforms. These men looked to be in charge of things and only carried side arms, but more heavily armed men in circling gunships ensured that the perimeter was secure, and that their operation wouldn’t be interrupted easily. ...

story continues from part eight The final part of “My Butler James” has two endings, one of which is a somewhat happy ending and the other an alternate dark ending. Part 9a: The Pay Per View Heiress = Good & Part 9b: Gloria’s Last Scene= darker ending - you choose. Part 9b: Gloria’s Last Scene Warning: This version of the ending of My Butler James is darker that most I have written. Hours later the black helicopters landed and deposited their human cargo, a team of black uniformed security men with no rank insignia or service in evidence. These men had only side arms on their persons, and the look of technicians landing in a known secure location, and I watched the waiting three human feeders and James speak with them, and then lead them toward the mansion as if they were on holiday. Another civilian chopper landed as far away from the others as possible, and this one sat as if waiting for something with no persons either leaving, or entering, it’s tinted windows hiding what was inside, their being a stark contrast to it’s gleaming white fuselage. Did the good guys always wear white, or ride up on white horses, or did that only happen in the movies? ...

Sally had found the place some months ago, she had visited it with the real estate agent, a disused church in the middle of a nearby town, this was Wales, there were probably 1000’s of these places up for sale, this one was only £40,000. The Church had no land or parking so conversion to anything of value was always going to be difficult, it had been on the market for 2 years already – therefore it would take a long time to sell – this suited Sally perfectly. ...

Sally had found the place some months ago, she had visited it with the real estate agent, a disused church in the middle of a nearby town, this was Wales, there were probably 1000’s of these places up for sale, this one was only £40,000. The Church had no land or parking so conversion to anything of value was always going to be difficult, it had been on the market for 2 years already – therefore it would take a long time to sell – this suited Sally perfectly. ...

story continues from part one Part 2: Stacy Kendell James stared glumly at the laptop’s screen. Downstairs, Stacey Morris was overseeing the unloading of yet another truckload of furniture for her new house. Forbidden clothing, Kendell could only hide here in an upstairs room until the movers left. Just yesterday, Kendell had lost what was probably the strangest race ever. She and Stacey, both nude, each securely bound by her own hand, had struggled through the empty rooms searching for the keys they needed to release themselves. Stacey had won that race, leaving Kendell her complete slave for the weekend. ...

(story continues from My Butler James 7: Jessica’s Play Toy) Part 8: Jessica’s Worst Enemy I was an absolute mess by the time my Ms. Jessica and her droid had finished with me, and she only stopped her prolonged torture when I lost my bladder all over the walkway next to the pool. That was hugely embarrassing but well out of my control, and I would still have to say that our second engagement could be considered a draw, as we hurt each other somewhat equally depending on one’s point of view. The watching men also at some point realizing that this wasn’t as “fun” for me as I originally pretended it was… ...

story continued from part six Chapter 7: Cassandra is Whipped! “Kiss the whip!” ordered Mistress Allison. Never in her entire life had Cassandra ever felt so exposed and vulnerable! She realized that until now she had merely been playing around the edges of submission. Cassandra realized that her prior experiences before entering Beth’s house had been the equivalent of dipping her toes in the water. Everything that she had done here was merely preparation for what she would now undergo! ...

Today was a day off and the house would be empty until late into the evening. Melissa was completely turned on by bondage and she occasionally enjoyed a little self bondage when the opportunity presented itself. Several hours had been spent with the everyday chores and preparing an evening meal. Now her time was all her own. Everything had to be just right, looking good and feeling feminine to her mind was crucial. She showered long and luxuriously and washed her hair. Back in the bedroom great care was taken to dry her shoulder length hair carefully so that the natural waves lay softly around her face. Just a subtle amount of makeup and perfume and she felt ready. ...

(story continues from Adventures being Tied and Edged by Guys 2: Dan in Seattle) Authors note: I am a straight guy with a lifelong love of bondage. I have had a special love for edging ever since I saw my big sister’s “Joy of Sex” with the picture the guy tied spread eagle while the girl sat on him and teased his cock. I have tied and been tied by women many times, and enjoyed it thoroughly. However, when they took the dom role, I never felt like they were enjoying it. A few years ago, after reading some stories by Strand Ankler, I started thinking about what it would be like to be tied by another guy. Someone who wouldn’t “be nice”, and would be doing it to me for his own pleasure, not mine. ...

A Pilot Joins a Very Special Twelve Mile High Club. What happens at 65,000 feet can’t stay at 65,000 feet. But will– or can– test pilot Colonel Harold Hammen ever tell what actually happened when he met Gloriana. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = The XF-139 was a very special type of plane, but then Colonel Harold H. Hammen was a very special type of test pilot. The plane was an SRA, a “Slingshot Response Aircraft” capable of responding anywhere in the world in just minutes when carried aloft by a special UTV, an “Ultrasonic Transport Vehicle.” The docked pair could be kept anywhere in the world and respond instantly to anywhere in the world when a situation arose. Both the two-pilot transport and the single pilot response aircraft would need mid-air refueling and perhaps mid-air towing to return to base, but the incredibly short initial response time meant that there was nowhere in the world that US air power could not appear in the sky within minutes of an incident. Or, at least that was the design theory that Colonel “HH” Hammen was trying to prove out in this test flight. ...

story continued from part five Chapter 6: Kate Gets Flogged Cassandra stood in gagged silence during the strangest elevator ride in her life as they descended to the basement. Mistress Allison stood in her leather dress, holding Cassandra’s leash. Both Cassandra and Beth were naked, gagged, and chained together. Once a previous boyfriend had asked Cassandra if she wanted to do a quickie in an elevator, but Cassandra had refused, pointing to the camera projecting from the ceiling. ...

Her little finger was bigger than my entire leg, and her massive tits…. She held me gently in the enormous fingers of one gigantic hand while the other hand began plucking at my shirt, but one tug from her giant fingers ripped it like it was wet tissue paper. Again I began struggling and fighting her, but turning and twisting my body effortlessly with her enormous powerful fingers she was like a grown woman undressing a soft flexible doll, not even noticing my futile struggles. Tenderly and carefully she inserted her long red nail into the front of my pants and stripped them off. They ripped easily under her massive muscles, she was trying to be gentle but was just simply so huge that the cloth of my clothing was as delicate as spider webs to her. ...

story continued from part one Chapter 2: The Bondage Imperative Captive in her wooden prison, Cassandra had time to decompress and review the afternoon’s events; which had shocked and surprised her. Had she really volunteered to strip naked before Allison & Kate; put on a collar and bracelets; and then submit to the invasion of her body and punishment by the riding crop? What could possibly have possessed her to do it; and worse; enjoy it? ...

story continued from part two Chapter 3: A Strange Job Offer When Cassandra awoke the next morning, it was to brilliant sunlight streaming through the window! Her eyes opened, and she slowly awoke, comprehending that the snowstorm that had brought her to this strange house had ended. Rubbing her eyes, she wondered if yesterday’s events had all been just a dream. But no, the bed smelled of sex, her lips still had the taste of another woman upon them, and finally the collar was still locked upon her neck, and the chain still held her fast to the wall! ...

story continued from part three Chapter 4: Shared Captivity “Lift your hair,” ordered Mistress Allison. It was early evening, and Cassandra and Mistress Allison were standing in the basement next to the washing machine. Displayed on the domestic appliance were a collar; a set of gleaming handcuffs; a leash; and a red rubber ball gag. It didn’t take much to make a girl helpless! Cassandra stood silently as Mistress Allison locked the leather collar around her neck. She was wearing a blouse and skirt; and a pair of high heels on her feet; with nothing underneath. ...

story continued from part four Chapter 5: Wage Slavery When Cassandra awoke the next morning, she found that she was alone in the cot. Beth was in front of the prison sink/toilet; calmly brushing her teeth. “Good morning,” said Beth. “Good morning,” Cassandra replied as she sat up, naked as her companion. Beth washed her mouth out with a cup of water, then proceeded to wash her face. When she was finished, she toweled herself off. ...

I married too young and was divorced by 25. He was having an affair with his slutty assistant in the venture capital firm, and I hired a private detective to prove it! I got the car, the house, the cat and a big check every month. It was more house than I needed in an exclusive, gated community, with five bedrooms, a fully furnished basement and a three car garage, all of which provided me lots of “play” opportunities. But what I liked most about it was the secluded, fenced backyard with a huge garden, pool and hot tub. I still worked a steady job as a personal trainer because I really liked my work. And, because I made my own schedule, I always had time for myself too. ...

I am a 65yr old Male that has been playing with self bondage for as many years as I can remember. I have always tried to be safe and sure of not getting caught unless I wanted my wife to find me because I couldn’t get out. I have found a Dungeon but as many know it costs for the pleasure of someone else to use you as you wish to be. It is very hard to find someone who enjoys giving what you are craving. So you turn to self-bondage. So on with my story (true). ...

It is no secret that my wife, Techie, and I enjoy experimenting and playing adult games. Some of the things we do are not original but are inspired by something we have read in Gromet’s Plaza. In this case we read and enjoyed the bondage piece “My Life as a Dog” by Richard and I said, “May I be your pet for a day?“ Techie gave me one of her “sneaky” smiles that should have been a warning; but I was determined to try it. Our med kit had some heavy-duty cling wrap tape I got that out. Then I went to my workshop and cut off two pieces of two three and a half inches of two-inch diameter soft rubber hose. In preparation for what was about to come I stripped down so the only thing I was wearing was my CB6000 male chastity device. We still had the locking collar, chromed chain leash left over from a Halloween costume party as well as the anti-bark shock collar we had gotten when we were caring for my son’s dog. ...

Britney drove into the dimly lit parking lot of a small shopping complex near the edge of the suburban town she lived in. She often came to this spot, relatively out of the way to indulge in one of her darker, kinkier sides to her rather boring sex life. She cruised through the parking lot and headed around the side road of the buildings. Britney would then pull into a spot in the back of the buildings, not far from a cluster of three dumpsters in a small enclave between an office supply store and a restaurant. ...

(story continues from Coven 2) Cast of Characters Lulu – Blonde, full-figured, a paid sacrificial-victim of cult Anne-Marie – Witch-leader, coven organizer, roommate Jo-Anne – Assistant coven-leader, witch, devil-worshipper Bob and Dick – Cult gay couple, piercing-suspension experts Freddy and Harry – Cult medical men, bleeding-wound staunchers Marge - confused teenage motel-keeper’s daughter Sam and Alexis - rich, cruel, cult’s only married-couple Shrouded Coven pacing-chanting members, a “Leaping Lures” [fishing-cabin motel] desk-clerk – all small-part players ...

This is pretty much written off the cuff, making it up as I go along; probably will be a shortie, but I just don’t know. I have found that much of what turns me on about past experiences is what they might have become if only I had been a little bolder or more imaginative. One such event in my life happened a very long time ago - before the Internet even. I forget a lot of details, but will do my best to tell what really did happen, then what I wish had happened. ...

“This is fantastic!” Kendell James stared around her at the huge rooms of her friend’s new house. Beside her, Stacey Morris smiled. “It’ll look even better once it’s furnished,” she replied. “As it is, it’s perfect for what I have in mind for today. Come with me.” Curious, Kendell followed Stacey through the large rooms, watching as her friend closed some doors, while making sure others stood open. Finally, they stood in one of the upstairs bedrooms. ...

Chapter 1 I could not believe that I had been so stupid. What had made me think I could get away with it? From Carlos, of all people. It had seemed so easy to leave with the cash after the way he had treated me. Let me explain, I had been living with him for about a year and fallen in love with him. I even hoped to marry him. That was what made me so angry when he brought home the twins. I found out that he had been keeping them in another house he owned up till now. This had been going on for months, but now he wanted all three of us in one place, and I was not happy about this. Knowing that he was a Mob Boss from South America meant I had to put up with the situation. I had no money of my own as he paid for every thing. So with no where else to go, that would be safe, I had to stay. I would continue looking for some way to leave permanently, but not feet first as they say. ...

(story continues from Sisterly Curator) Part 2 After what seemed like an eternity and falling asleep several times, there was a brief buzz swiftly followed by the lights flickering into life. A few more seconds and I could hear the door being unlocked. Jade walked over to me calmly, unclipped the chains, and helped me up into a sitting position. “What time is it?” my voice cracked and croaked. “It’s about 7:30” she said calmly. ...

Sophie had been planning this for days. She’d frozen the key in a big glass of water, bought three big tubes of silicon-based lubricant and blocks of wood, and so forth. Being 1pm, she only had to check her design and then the rest of the afternoon was hers. She’d chosen her garage as the best place because if someone came over, they’d never look there and just assume that she was gone. In front of her, and secured as best she could manage, was her latest adventure in a series of what she considered “weird” sex games. This time it was a pole standing about 4 feet tall with a 3 inch metal bulb at it’s top. The idea was that she would stand on top of the blocks of wood and be forced to endure the enormous thing slowly sliding into her as her legs lost strength. Eventually, the huge metal ball would enter her and she’d be stuck on the thinner few inches below it until the key melted and she was able to release her hands and climb off of the toy. The thinner part was almost 2 inches wide for the first 3 inches but then stepped out to 3.5 or more inches almost immediately for the rest of its length. ...

story continued from part two Part 3: Sally the Snake Sally was the leader of the Gang of 4, there was no question about that. She was athletic and slim. She was also whip-smart, really more street smart that academic smart. You can always be sure she will be one step ahead of you if you try to argue with her. When she played point guard on the basketball team, she earned the nickname “Sally the Snake” that was a backhanded compliment to her quickness and her slender form, and a comment on her relatively dirty play. If she could get away with a hack or grab, you could be certain she would do it. The refs would watch the ball go up when a shot was made, and they should have watched Sally. She was known to trip opposing players when they went on for a rebound. ...

story continues from part three Part 4 “What I don’t understand is, why do you insist on controlling production?” Selena Warren sighed, glancing around her. Behind her stood Jeremy Wilkes, her former assistant, now full partner as well as lover. After locking gazes with him for a moment, she turned back to the speaker. “Major Simmons,” she replied, “this process is, as you say, extremely useful, with an array of possibilities that almost stagger the mind. Unfortunately, the possibilities for misuse are nearly as great. I will not allow my discovery to be used improperly. I’m sorry, but my terms are not open to negotiation. I will, with proper funding, produce and install my discovery as needed for the space program. I will not, under any circumstances, give over the process to the military for open use.” ...

story continued from part one Part 2: Diane was on a Mission Diane was on a mission. She had walked into that old barn and decided, then and there, that she would attempt to relive that day she had her first true forced orgasm. There was no doubt or hesitation in her mind. She was going to do it, and do it today. The Past Called and Wants Their Diane Back ...

“You, Sir, are a pig.” Ben Greene grinned. At the ripe age of thirty, he’d heard it all, many times over. Women who displayed their most obvious charms, and then insulted him for expressing an honest appreciation for those charms. Ben, by his own admission, was a breast man. He loved the way a woman’s breasts moved, especially the big ones. Of course, there were some who said he made his love known far too directly, his obvious stares and crude remarks being deemed offensive by many women. Not that he cared. He could accept the worst of insults from women who, for reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom, found his actions offensive. ...

Note: This story has a good and a bad ending. Katie looked out the window with lust at the big pile of garbage that had accumulated in the middle of the cul-de-sac . “They said that they won’t be able to collect the trash for another few weeks,” Said Ron, her husband. “That gives us plenty of time to let you play in that big pile of garbage, if you want”. Ron said to Katie. ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death. A short piece. I would be laying on one of the expensive Turkish carpets naked. Firstly I would tie my ankles together tightly, cinching them. I then tie a rope tight round my waist giving myself a crotch rope as well. To this is attached a pre-tied rope for my wrists that will tighten and not let go. I don’t secure my wrists yet. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: Saturday As I heard the front door slam shut I started sobbing into the pillow. How did tonight get so far out of control? In just a couple weeks I had fallen for Mark, but I had not yet told him that sometimes I need bondage. How do you bring that up in conversation at dinner? It took me a year to tell my ex-fiance, and he left me over it. No, I did the right thing. I had to tell him now. In my head I reviewed tonight for the thousandth time. ...

Jackson and Jillian Hilliard started out as the dream couple, high school sweethearts who’d married right after graduation, attended college together, then went on to create a home and a family. It was the perfect story. For a while. Unfortunately, by the time their only child, a daughter, turned nineteen, the shine seemed to have worn off this golden marriage. Though successful, the two were anything but happy, and their frequent arguments very nearly became their only contact. Finally, in desperation, their daughter Lacy turned to her boyfriend, nearly begging him to use his special skills to help her bring her parents back together. ...

story continued from part four = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = This is week five of that diary. There are five weeks, each more or less stands on its own, but makes more sense if you have read the previous weeks. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = ...

Having been married for over 40 years my husband, Techster, and I still enjoy playing adult games that are heavy on the BDSM side. I, for one, enjoy the feeling of being helpless and teased and tormented until I beg for sex. Sometimes I decide to “live dangerously “ by placing myself naked in inescapable self bondage knowing that I must wait for Techster to “discover” me and do whatever he wants to do to me, it can range from oral sex, to electrical stimulation of my clitoris. The waiting by itself is erotic as all hell because thoughts of what will happen to me are running thought my head! ...

(story continues from Pit Pony 3) Part 4 The routine of working in the mine during the day followed by an evening of restraint for Emily continued. During the day she was a working pit pony and at night she was forced into the role of a pet. After a number of weeks, John announced his regular run into Zulu to ship more ore. As usual, Diane arrived the next day and immediately set about reducing Emily’s freedom of movement as much as possible. ...

“Tim to Collins.” “Collins.” “Captain, we’re just about done here, about to head to sector D14.” “Copy. Anything interesting?” “No ma’am, just more of the same, predominantly poppies.” “Copy.” “Hey! It’s 2400, happy birthday! The big 3 0, woohoo! I know we’re not on schedule, but maybe we could grab a little quality time when you get back”. In another time and place that would be insubordination, but in the space program sexual interaction among the crew was not only encouraged, it was required. In fact, sexual competency was considered a core function and ship crews were selected based on sexual compatibility. They changed partners regularly, according to the schedule, but often couples developed a special bond even if they were required to sleep with others. ...

Hope you enjoy reading, this story is my first so I have written up the first chapter to see if it is worth continuing judged on any feedback I get. The story is my own, written straight from my head. Please let me know what you think - thanks. Haley was sitting at her desk just staring at the clock, 20 minutes to go, 10 minutes to go, 5 minutes to go… When her phone went off in her pocket, it was her best friend Janet, telling her that she was really excited about their plans tonight. They were going to go to their favourite bar (the one where they got free drinks if they had the correct amount of cleavage on display), then they were going to go to Janet’s house and have a girls night in, order a pizza, drink some wine, watch some films until they fall asleep on the sofa. ...

I have already told the story about getting myself tied up by a madam and one of her girls. This is a short account of another visit to the brothel for bondage which turned out much different than planned. I had made the appointment for one evening, and arrived to find the madam in her parlor with another guy and two women. One of the girls was very attractive to me, and turned out to be the one assigned to work with me. The other was kind of plain, but not at all unsocial. ...

Hank knew that he only had a few months left. The good news was that there would be few symptoms and little suffering. The bad news was that within the next few months, without warning, he would suddenly die. Timing could not have been worse. Only a few months ago Hank had met Annette. Having just finished college, Hank had spent a relaxing Saturday afternoon at the pool reading. He heard a lifeguard’s whistle and looked up from his novel. Sitting high atop the lifeguard chair, this tan, dark haired vixen barked at rowdy kids in the pool. Hank stared at her from below as he lay on his towel. Just the angle – she seemed so powerful and authoritative above him - turned him on. It reminded Hank of the POV views that he loved from the giantess sites from the internet. Perched above everyone else, her pony tail stuck out from her baseball cap. Behind dark, mysterious sunglasses Annette scanned the pool. Hank was transfixed. Anything she did seemed sexy. She spun her whistle, adjusted her shades, held her whistle with her lips, and scratched one foot with the other. All afternoon he watched her from below. It was love at first sight. The two soon started dating. The image of Annette from below was seared into Hank’s memory. He could never look at Annette without secretly remembering looking at her from below. Hank found that he treated Annette differently from any other girl he’d ever met. He found he’d subtly defer to whatever Annette wanted. He’d watch for any opportunity to please her. Though not overt, Hank found he enjoyed secretly being submissive to Annette’s every whim. For Annette it was different than any other relationship she’d ever had as well. Her love for Hank was soulful, romantic and complete. She’d never met somebody so giving and loving. For her part she longed to do anything to please him The two fell wildly in love. The two complimented each other. Hank’s secret feelings of submission to her will and Annette’s desire to reciprocate for his giving and compromising nature lead to deep, heartfelt passion. The two were wild and adventurous in bed, trying feverishly trying anything to please each other. When Hank first shared his diagnosis with Annette he planned to go on with life just as if nothing was wrong. The pressure began to bother each of them. Hank hated being at the mercy of death. He hated the uncertainty. He hated waiting. “Why should he be a slave to the unexpected?” he thought. “Why not plan his end the way he’d most enjoy it.” It took a few weeks of research but he found someone to help. While the way it worked was still being studied, a researcher in Japan had developed a substance that would eliminate exactly 199 out of every 200 cells of the human body, thus shrinking the subject to 1/200 of his prior size. A 6 foot man would be reduced to just over ¼ of an inch tall. It wouldn’t hurt and he was likely to survive the process. Hank was sold. Hank sold his car and drained his savings accounts. Within a week a bottle arrived from Japan Staring into Annette’s dark brown eyes, Hank explained his new view of his fate. ...

Lily’s parents had finally had enough. They had given their daughter plenty of time to get her life together and do something. Just after turning 18 and finishing highschool Lily had turned into a lazy bum. She ’tried’ to get a job and wasn’t able to get a boyfriend. It wasn’t that she was unattractive, it was just that she was lazy. She had become useless so finally her parents had decided to draw a line. They told Lily when she turned 20 that if she didn’t get a job, move out, or do something with her life then they would get rid of her, Of course Lily didn’t take her parents seriously. Lily’s parents Vicki and Lonny were having a big party this weekend but before they could have the party they decided it was time to get rid of their now 21 year old daughter. Friday evening Lonny came home from work with a large garbage can in the back of his truck. He quietly moved it to the front door before entering the house to find the family gathered in front of the TV. Lonny tapped Lily on the shoulder and asked her to come to her room for a talk. When in the room her father solemnly informed her that he planned to throw her away tonight. Lily immediately ran to her bed and buried her face in her pillow in tears. Lonny wasn’t good with words and never was, his attempts to get her up to follow him to the kitchen failed miserably. “We’ve given you chance after chance to do something with your life. You had a responsibility to yourself and your family to do something productive. Now your opportunity is gone and the only thing you can do to make up for your uselessness is to follow me to the kitchen so that we can get you in the garbage can!” ...

story continued from part three = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = This is week four of that diary. There are five weeks, each more or less stands on its own, but makes more sense if you have read the previous weeks. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = ...

Part 1: Real Estate Lady When she walked through the office, most of the guys would stop what they were doing, and pretend to casually glance in her direction. Dressed up, Diane looked absolutely stunning walking through the real estate office. She wore tailored clothes that fit her nicely. That is “nicely” and not slutty. Most of the guys would quietly think to themselves, “She is way out of my league, but oh man, what I would do with that!” ...

Part 1 - Her Turn at a Party [Author’s Note: This is a story about what happened to me while I was in college back in 1982, when sex was easier and AIDS hadn’t been heard of.] I went to the frat party at the urging of a friend, Jerri. She and I had at one time been close, but after a few times in bed I had wanted to try things that she just would not do. “No hard feelings”, she said (and I believed her), “but no thanks”. We parted and happily stayed friends. She called me up one day and told me of a party on Friday she wanted me to come to and meet a friend of hers named Vicky, who she said could be more of what I was looking for in a woman, maybe too much. I told her I couldn’t pass that up. ...

I am not saying if this is a true story or not, I will let the readers make up their own minds. My form tutor had asked something that morning about helping the drama department with set building, getting ready for the school play that was going ahead in the coming weeks. I had not really paid much attention other than being vaguely aware of what was going on. At this time I had just turned 18 and being in the upper sixth form, a prefect no less, I had lots of time on my hands. Being a prefect at this particular school you were expected to help out the staff with break times and keeping order in the corridors, as a thank you for this we were treated with access to the staff room, and the coffee was bottom less, this was quite a help as most of the time, most of us were a bit worse for wear! ...

She sat on the beach partially upright in her lounge chair looking at him. “Well, I am a smoker, so eventually I will probably eat you.“ she calmly informed him. He looked at her. It was his decision. She was a curvaceous blonde. Her bikini showed off her large breasts and slender waist to good effect. She knew this too. It was very tempting and that was the idea. He suspected many men might have gone the same route. He looked at her smile, those straight white teeth. How many victims passed that way into her rapacious female body, just food and a good meal. He swallowed hard. He might last a good long time and have lots of good sex with that body first. It was tempting. ...

story continues from part one Part 2: Opening the Stall Emma lay quietly in the empty stall. She knew if she made a sound, those two lesbian bitches would be on her like flies on shit. She was tightly tied by her own hand. Emma had used some leather sleeves she had found in the tack room, along with some hemp twine to carefully bind herself in preparation for what she thought would be another hot session with the stable boy, Billy. ...

“Ok, so it’s new and it’s interesting. But does it actually have any practical use?” Selena Warren frowned, turning to glance at her assistant, Jeremy Wilkes. “Of course it does,” she replied. In theory, we could revolutionize the toy industry, among other things. And we know it works. All we need to do now is test it to make sure it’s safe." Jeremy nodded. “So,” he remarked, “another late night. Half your funding is going to go on overtime. Anyway, I need to run to town and pick up those new computer components. I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour or two.” ...

Tony Walker couldn’t believe his luck. With multiple convictions for assault, rape and murder, the best he could have hoped for was life in prison filing an endless series of appeals to hold off the inevitable death sentance. Then, amazingly, he’d been taken from his cell and sent here. The army, he’d been told, needed his help, and the court had agreed to commute his sentance. All he had to do was help the army for a few years, and he’d be a free man. It was unbelievable. ...

(story continues from Cameron and Heather) Chapter Two: Their Bondage Night [The day started out with Cameron and Heather going to an outdoor mall to pick up some candles for their romantic evenings. In addition, Heather wound up with a few more dresses and items of intimate wear. Cameron enjoyed seeing Heather squirm in her new ‘cheeky’ panties. Then, Heather, dually surprised and elated, learned that Cameron was proposing to her in front of a crowd of strangers. Once they got home, she enjoyed him masturbating her before a loving and romantic bath together.] ...

This story is true. A friend whom I met on the plaza forum and I are involved and well understand each other’s situation and have great rapport. Here’s our story. Hey Metal. Glad to be able to submit (pun intended) this description of how we play the game. My partner Jack lives far away so real life meetings are few. Therefore when we need a bit of bondage, we have to coordinate carefully. But if no contact is possible, any keys to freedom are locked in a box with a combo lock under the popular program Timelock for some random period of time. ...

It all started with these conversations with this guy in Europe. He was big on burying guys in sand. I had some experience in that and enjoyed the times I was buried. But I sensed that he was way beyond me in terms of experience and endurance. Most of my burials had been sort duration and fairly shallow. Oh, yes, I was buried once deeply on a warm beach in the Caribbean butt naked, and that one lasted a couple of hours. Since I am writing this in the past tense, I did survive what was about to happen, but it was one of the most intense experiences of my life. ...

It all started with these conversations with this guy in Europe. He was big on burying guys in sand. I had some experience in that and enjoyed the times I was buried. But I sensed that he was way beyond me in terms of experience and endurance. Most of my burials had been sort duration and fairly shallow. Oh, yes, I was buried once deeply on a warm beach in the Caribbean butt naked, and that one lasted a couple of hours. Since I am writing this in the past tense, I did survive what was about to happen, but it was one of the most intense experiences of my life. ...

I had wanted to try something for a long time, something kinky and restrictive but I had never had the nerve to ask Jane until recently. Jane was my lover and best friend. She had come across my love of bondage when I had set myself an afternoon self bondage challenge several years back. I used an Ice release method which usually melts to drop a handcuff or padlock key down to my hand or releases a pendulum swinging a folded penknife or set of nail scissors to me to get free. There was a bit of bad press on the internet at the time, with plenty of people getting stuck, so I decided to give Jane a call just in case. She wasn’t aware of my activities, as I told her just to come over and we would go out in the evening to meet guys at a club or hang out at a bar and go for some dinner after. That evening she arrived way to early, because she had the afternoon off work too; but also a key to my apartment. ...

I looked down at my waistline and sighed. It was the hardest thing in the world for me to keep even a reasonably good figure. I was always thinking about how I could get away with eating what I shouldn’t. Lately I had even taken to sneaking food when my partner Alex wasn’t looking. Only small things like a piece of bread with thick butter on or a handful of peanuts which I had said were just for him. ...

Part 1: Cleansing Friday “You sure you don’t want to go with us?” “Mom, the doctor said no foreign foods for the next couple of weeks. I’ll be damned even if I eat the normal food that we eat at home.” “I still think that one of us should stay and help you out.” “I’m a big girl now. Actually, a woman.” I tried to make that clear. They both took one solid stare at me. Investigating my body. Never had I felt so violated by my parents until now. It’s as if they peered deep into my soul and knew my intent of the upcoming weekend. Mom squinted her eyes and scrunched her lips leftward. Yes, her left. ...

I built a basic 2x6 “box”. It was the height of a kitchen chair, and 8 inches deep. Once I had attached the “L” brackets to the inside corners to make sure it would hold my weight, I took it out to the dog pen, and screwed it to the tree. I fed my spreader bar through the box, and put bungee cords on either side, then hooked them to the fence. ...

(story continues from Cathy’s First Time) story continued from part one Part Two For nearly two hours I was forced to remain kneeling in the cramped cage, my ankles and wrists secured to the bars by leather cuffs. While I could occasionally hear Claire moving nearby, my vision was restricted by the positioning of the cage. At some point Mistress returned and I could hear Claire relating how disobedient I had been. It was all a put on of course, but Mistress played the role of feigned indignation. My cage was repositioned so that I could see about the dungeon, with Mistress and Claire the only persons present. ...

Nobody was really sure how it had happened, but, a former professional dominatrix had been elected as the Prime Minister. Foul play was suspected but, never proven. There was an initial outcry and protests were held all over the country, but, it soon became clear that she was actually doing a decent job and so the protests ran out of steam and those who had voiced their discontent turned their attentions to more pressing matters. ...

When you start this story, you may feel like discarding it immediately. That’s the disclaimer. The request is, read the whole thing before you decide. It’s not what it looks like. “You wanted to see me, Sir?” “Have a seat, detective.” Settling into her seat, Detective Rebecca Santos watched as Captain Murdoch thumbed a button on his desk, bringing to life the large screen on the wall. At the sight the screen displayed, her eyes widened. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Mistress Jane Henderson learns the hard way not to bet on a sure thing. “One of these days in your travels, a guy is going to come to you and show you a nice, brand new deck of cards on which the seal has not yet been broken. This man is going to offer to bet you that he can make the jack of spades jump out of that deck and piss in your ear. Now son, you do not take this bet, for as sure as you stand there, you are going to wind up with an earful of piss.” ...

“I have an idea.” “Yes, Master?” Stephen grinned at the look of barely repressed apprehension on the woman’s face. In the past year and a half, since that amazing day he’d realized that, not only were genies real, but he now had control of one, he’d been exploring all the possibilities her magic could create. Of course, he’d dealt with the obvious first, commanding her to make him incredibly rich. He now lived in a palatial mansion, drove the most expensive cars, ate only the finest cuisine. Those, of course, had only been for starters. ...

(story continues from The Perils of Pauline) Chapter II: Married Bliss, Part 1 The aroma of coffee filled her nose, rousing her from sleep. Kim opened her eyes to the sunlit room, content to lie still and enjoy how wonderful she felt. She could hear Rachel in the kitchen. The added smell of bacon signaling the traditional Saturday morning breakfast was being prepared, an attraction her stomach couldn’t ignore. Kim tried to sit up but found her wrists still bound together and to the headboard. The tug on her ankles foiled the attempt to reach the knot. ...

Softly humming a favorite tune, Walter Goodman strode slowly across his back yard. A tall, slim man in his late forties, Walt was well known in the small town for his quiet, friendly ways. He was equally well known for his steely will. This combination had earned him widespread respect in town, and there were many who proudly called him friend. Today, he was on his way to visit his newest friend. ...

Sara gets a chance to really strut her stuff on Bourbon Street. A friend of one of The Three J’s boyfriends has a plan to impress his father and show him that he has the vision to take over “The Three Jacks” club on Bourbon Street. The Three J’s and an S agree to help him in his plan which involves them walking down Bourbon Street on five consecutive nights dressed in more and more daring costumes. ...

A few weeks ago Peter measured, cut, sanded and made me a lovely long spreader bar for me to play with. It’s a thick wooden dowel rod five feet long with screw eyes in the ends and one in the centre of the bar. He painted it black for me and it has been drying in the garage all week, ready for me to play with. Now this spreader bar is only four to five inches smaller than me. So it would be a challenge how I was going to use it. ...

(story continues from No Place for Pets) Chapter 2: Becoming Her Owner The sounds of sizzling back bacon filled the still morning air. It was early the sun having barely been up for more than an hour. Jim enjoyed this peaceful time, when the old farmhouse was still and quiet. He had always been an early riser. For as long as he could remember he had been getting up to go for an early morning run. Country life had quickly grown on him. Unlike the hustle and bustle of the city, he could go outside and breathe nothing but pure clean air. It was a welcome improvement over the smelly fumes and honking of cars. Come to think of it he could not remember the last time he saw a car on his morning run, which wasn’t surprising when their closest neighbour was 15 kilometres away. ...

(story continues from Sophira 2) Part Three “You want me to do what?” At the anger in the young Queen’s voice, the two with her stepped back slightly. “Your Majesty,” said the woman facing her, “please try to understand. We have to sneak you into the city. Duke Korza’s men will no doubt be watching every gate.” The woman paused. “Sophira,” she finally said, “trust us.” Sophira gazed at the other woman, her glare softening slightly. “Jenna,” she replied, “I would trust you with my life. But I thought we were trying to put me back on the throne. How can entering the city as a slave do that?” ...

sequel to part one HOW MUCH CUM COULD ONE FUCK CHUCK?: BOUND: TIED, TICKLED, AND TORMENTED INTO SPASMS AND ‘GASMS II. Masturbatory Buzz Karen was the daughter of my parents’ very close friends. She was three years older than me and had entered my life five years earlier as a stay-over guest. Because our house was in a very remote area, almost like an outpost in a forest that was adjacent to a huge state park, my folks thought it would be a good idea for me to have company when they were away. They called her my “sitter” as a shorthand term, and they never learned just how appropriate that title would be; Karen would spend a lot of time over the years sitting on me! ...

Part 1: The Holding Area She turned the handle and pushed on the door which swung smoothly open. Moving from the greasy odor of a hotel kitchen she could suddenly smell vanilla, and was that roasted almonds? The inside of the room was dark and she turned to the inside wall by the door hoping to find a light switch. She found none but a movement sensor obviously kicked in and an overhead fluorescent fitting crackled into life filling the room with a stark blue grey light. She turned back to the room and almost yelped in surprise. ...

Today’s subject, dear readers, is the proper way to dress for a business meeting. To this end, I will outfit our model, Lisa, with a wardrobe suitable for any boardroom. Unfortunately, there will be no illustrations, as we will be starting with the very basics, which means Lisa is quite naked at the moment. “And it’s a bit drafty in here right now.” Lisa, you are here to model, not comment. ...

It is a little after 5:30 in the AM. It is a typical work/school day. Our breakfast is finished, ready to be served. Cage-free egg whites, organic, non-GMO bell peppers, sautéd to perfection. Strong, lightly sweetened breakfast tea will provide the necessary wake-up caffeine. Our son is still sleeping soundly, with two closed doors between his room and ours. My beloved is still asleep, naked, as always. Her breathing is soft, peaceful and rhythmic. I am fully dressed, in California-style business casual clothes. In 30 minutes, I will be at my desk a few miles away. ...

Her name, ironically, was Sapphire Skye. Ironic because Dr. Skye, as she was also known, was a leading expert in meteorology. She was also well known in meteorological circles as the designer of the newest generation of weather balloons. Especially ironic now, considering her situation. Sapphire woke slowly, her mind still foggy with sleep. Fuzzily, she remembered being in her lab, preparing for a test release. The space boys needed information about air currents over their launch sites, stating a concern for the effects of wind speed on launch trajectory. Sapphire had thus planned a timed series of releases, in order to gauge how upper atmospheric wind speeds changed during the day. Her last clear memory had been of inspecting the final balloon prior to launching the first. ...

Lori had been dating Jim for a few months and both had enjoyed each other’s fascination with bondage since they met, when Lori had replied to an ad Jim had run looking for models to make body molds for his art. She responded mostly because she wanted to experience being cast in some form of restricting material unsure of what exactly he would use but willing to try anything, she got along with Jim immediately and over the next few weeks Jim had casted her hands then her legs as they both flirted and teased each other about going further with the casting process and Lori teasing him about not taking long enough before releasing her, indicating she wanted to stay in the cast longer. Jim had asked her to do a lower body and leg cast and when she quickly agreed without asking how much he knew she was really into the restriction of the process and was going to see just how much. ...

Lori had been dating Jim for a few months and both had enjoyed each other’s fascination with bondage since they met, when Lori had replied to an ad Jim had run looking for models to make body molds for his art. She responded mostly because she wanted to experience being cast in some form of restricting material unsure of what exactly he would use but willing to try anything, she got along with Jim immediately and over the next few weeks Jim had casted her hands then her legs as they both flirted and teased each other about going further with the casting process and Lori teasing him about not taking long enough before releasing her, indicating she wanted to stay in the cast longer. Jim had asked her to do a lower body and leg cast and when she quickly agreed without asking how much he knew she was really into the restriction of the process and was going to see just how much. ...

April’s heart was racing as she cleaned her amazing body in the shower. The steaming hot water poured over her perfect tits, it was also dropping off her shaved pussy. She was miles away in the most epic daydream ever. She would place herself in complete self-bondage. The device she had in mind was a metal monster. It was both inescapable and beautiful. She had imagined everything about it in unbelievable detail. She had also pictured the fetish clothing she would wear. The device itself was a modified metal chair. That was covered in leather cuffs and straps. She would be unable to move an inch. She would be dressed head to toe in thick jet black rubber. Her head would be enclosed in plastic wrap and duck tape. With just one small hole for her nose. She would also be wearing a heavy rubber gas mask with a bubble bottle. The bubble bottle would be held against the side of the chair. ...

April’s heart was racing as she cleaned her amazing body in the shower. The steaming hot water poured over her perfect tits, it was also dropping off her shaved pussy. She was miles away in the most epic daydream ever. She would place herself in complete self-bondage. The device she had in mind was a metal monster. It was both inescapable and beautiful. She had imagined everything about it in unbelievable detail. She had also pictured the fetish clothing she would wear. The device itself was a modified metal chair. That was covered in leather cuffs and straps. She would be unable to move an inch. She would be dressed head to toe in thick jet black rubber. Her head would be enclosed in plastic wrap and duck tape. With just one small hole for her nose. She would also be wearing a heavy rubber gas mask with a bubble bottle. The bubble bottle would be held against the side of the chair. ...

(nb: Stultify: To cause to appear stupid, inconsistent, or ridiculous.) ‘All right.’ Moretta thought while she had to gulp down her Masters manhood. ‘He’s using my mouth so it can’t be as worse.’ Moretta was on her knees, her mouth widly opened by a huge ring gag. She was nude except for the collar of her Master. Her head was still in pain from the recent hit she took. Only a few minutes ago she got woken up by her Master using aromatic salt at her nose. At this time she was in his living room, but she couldn’t remember how she got inside of his house. Then she was on her knees down into his basement where he put the ring gag on her and started to please himself with her mouth. ...

It got worse. After reading a few stories about my fantasy, it got wild. By that time it was occupying my mind more often than it should be. Sure it was a hot fantasy, it made me always wet and so on, but I thought it was time to give it a break. But how? Talking with my family about it? No! Talking with my friends about it? Also no! So what should I do? ...

Lucy stepped out of her hotel room with a bounce in her step. She had felt guilty at first about booking a weekend away without her friends, yet they were all either happily married or partnered. This weekend she wanted to avoid any mention of her friend’s male companions. Her split with long term boyfriend last month had left her both bitter and determined to have a fun time alone to forget the recent heartache. She had booked the weekend at a country get away for fun lovers, it had rope courses, bungee jumping, and even a small water park. And so she found herself walking out in her tight new swimsuit into the warm sunshine. ...

“Brad? What’re you doing out here, man?” Brad turned from the balcony railing, where he’d been staring out into the night. “Hey, Jim,” he replied. “Just getting another look at the bay. It’s so beautiful here, I wish I didn’t have to leave.” “You’ll be back.” Brad shook his head slowly. As a low level clerk back home, it had taken him nearly two years to save up for this vacation. It hadn’t been easy this time, and with the economy seemingly determined to slide to new depths, he saw little chance of a repeat. ...

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. ...

(No vegans were harmed in the writing of this story) Cody was sitting in the Wild Ginger vegan restaurant, a few blocks from the law school he was attending, finishing up his supper of soba noodle soup with tofu, seaweed, spinach and mushrooms, with a side order of yam and taro tempura. A couple years ago, when in his mid-twenties, he’d been an undercover investigator working for an animal rights organization. During his time with the organization, he’d gotten jobs at several factory farm operations, where he’d used a hidden camera to surreptitiously film workers abusing animals. He’d had a successful career, exposing numerous abuses at each of the operations. ...

A new rope, knotted at various spots. Each knot has a different torment. Capsaizin on some, Extra strength Ben-Gay on others, hot sauce on a few, and for some relief, lotion on a couple. I added an eyebolt to the 2x6 holding the garage door track to the front of the garage. I tied the rope to that eyebolt, and the other end to the entrance door handle to the house. ...

Ronnie was a classic MILF. She worked out, did Yoga, and stayed in shape. She had a pretty figure with ample breasts. She even had a nice waist with one of those butts that only Yoga can produce. Next to being 16 years old, she had what I considered to be a great figure. Not only that, but she was really pretty. Shoulder length blond hair cut in a younger style that framed her face nicely. ...

“My Lord Aloric?” The man named Aloric glanced up from his desk. “Yes?” “My Lord, we have the item you purchased.” Aloric smiled. “Very good. Bring her in.” Nodding, the man backed from the room, only to return a moment later with another. Between them, they carried a bundle that squirmed and grunted in their grasp. Once inside the door, they set the squirming bundle on the floor. “On her feet, if you please.” ...

What the fuck was I thinking? How could I trust a perfect stranger to do this to me? I’m not sure how long I’ve been here since he left me in the bondage I desired to be in. All sense of time has left me. Has it been just minutes? Hours? Feels more like days. It really doesn’t matter, though. I no longer desire to be here. I desire freedom. But, how far is that from now? I just wanted out! ...

It was a cold grey wet November morning at a quarter past eleven as I swung my Ford Mondeo into the car-park of The Criterion hotel in this midlands city. I had to attend an interview regarding a job position with a small company. The advert was placed for this position and I had been short-listed according to them after presenting my CV and my general personal details by email. I was now required to meet a Mr Davies who would be handling the meeting but I was running a little late due to an accident that held the traffic up as usual on the motorway. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Twin sisters in rural England crash the wrong party with very interesting, life-changing effects. “The Society” stories are not a sequential series of stories but rather a collection of separate stories that are all set in the world inhabited by members of The Society. Each story or series stands on its own although they do rely somewhat on the history and traditions of The Society. You need not have read the other stories of this collection to understand this story. ...

Authors Disclaimer: Everything that follows is fictitious, the events and people described are not real. Asphyxiation is dangerous and should not be attempted by anyone. If choking, asphyxiation, or breathplay does not interest you please do not continue reading! Chapter 1: Taken 32 minutes 55 seconds and 8 milliseconds. Her foot struck the pavement, the pain lancing up her nerves. The blister’s covering her left and right feet squished with each step. 32 minutes 55 seconds and 8 milliseconds, she repeated. Her mouth opened, with a great gasping inhale her chest expanded, oxygen filling her lungs. A half second later her nostrils flared as the air inside her chest rushed to escape. 32 minutes 55 seconds and 8 milliseconds, she mouthed. Her calves burned, sending jolts of pain with each step. Her shins felt like thousands of cracks were crisscrossing the bone, each new step creating more. She could feel her shoulders starting to cramp. Desperately she tried to move her arms to alleviate the pain. 32 minutes 55 seconds and 8 milliseconds, she hated those numbers. Strands of curly brown hair clung to the perspiration that covered her face. The hair began to itch, she tried to ignore it frustration gripping her. Why couldn’t she think of something else anything just not 32 minutes 55 seconds and 8 milliseconds….. ...

Sally groaned as she rocked against her latest suitor, despite the huge member entering her, she knew this would be another guy she would pass off. Once he shot off his load they slid apart and lay out on the rubber sheeting. Above a door closed on the gantry, although hidden from view her companion had no intention of being caught by his manager. Sally had no such issues, her father owned the company and so she simply lay out catching her breath. Her father owned a drinks company as well as several small ships to move ingredients and product between factories. Sally sometimes accompanied the ships and helped keep the spirits of the sailors up with small favours. ...

It had been a long week, but, finally, the weekend had arrived. Time to put her plans into action. Smiling at the thought, Sandy let herself into her apartment, locking the door behind her. Moving to the kitchen, she checked the first item. Earlier, she had taken a pair of 2 liter soda bottles and cut the bottoms off of both. After forcing the open bottom of one bottle slightly into the other, she had used glue and waterproof tape to form a hopefully water tight seal. Next, she had taken a length of rope, cutting into the center until only a few strands remained. The rope was fed through the joined bottles until the cut section was in the center. Using wax and more tape, she had sealed one end, then filled the bottles with water. More wax and tape sealed the other end, and the whole thing was put into the freezer. ...

(story continues from Another Saturday Morning 2: Yet Another Saturday Morning) Part 3: Still Another Saturday Morning For Fran Saturday mornings had taken a major change. Her handyman Henry had stopped using her for sex on Saturday mornings. Not a big loss for her as she had requested Henry to stop. She was no longer bound helpless every Saturday forced to take being fucked in her mouth, her ass and her pussy. This was all because of Bill on this Saturday morning sleeping beside her. They had dated for several months and eventually slept together most weekends. When Fran had considered Bill was a keeper she had requested Henry to stick to “normal” handyman chores. She expected she would miss Henry’s ability to drive her to mind bending orgasms but she hoped to be satisfied with the more mundane sex and orgasms that Bill evoked. ...

Here is a little something I did a little while back in 2011. I also posted it on my Blog if anyone’s interested in a little more bondage kink. Sunday, 4 December 2011 It was a pretty crappy week for me at work and the only way for me to get it right out of my system on Saturday was to literally beg Peter to tie me up and get it out of my system. ...

“I’ll do anything you want. Just let me please you.” Jack Briscoe glanced curiously at the woman staring at him with large eyes. Kristin, as she’d introduced herself, had started hitting on him nearly as soon as he’d entered this club. Each offer had been a little more explicit, until this last, open invitation. “Why?” To Jack, it seemed a logical question. After all, why would such an attractive woman go to such lengths to seduce a man nearly twice her age? Jack was honest enough with himself to know he’d never win any prizes for looks, though he wasn’t exactly ugly either. Kristin’s seeming determination to woo him was, therefore, puzzling. ...

After 4 days, Paul had finally finished, on this Monday morning everything was ready. There on the bench before him was the box. It was 2ft square and 2ft 6 inches high, the sides and top were all of solid wood; one side could be removed and then secured with screws. The box was mounted on a wooden pallet, in end one of the box was a round hole 1 ½" in diameter, going through the base of the box and the pallet. Paul lifted the box down onto the garage floor and went to get his wife. Kay had a thing about being trussed up and boxed, so without her knowing he had made the box as a surprise. ...

I stop as I walk across the carpet, noticing a few crumbs near the couch. My slave follows my gaze, and sighs when she sees them too. But she knows the rules, and starts removing her clothing without complaint as I go fetch the equipment. I return, carrying a box of supplies and pulling the vacuum cleaner behind me. She’s nude and crouching on the floor, ‘face down ass up’. I take the crop from the box and lay ten hard blows across her proffered ass. She can’t help but cry out for the last few strikes. “Sit up,” I command. She does. I take the thick, stiff, leather posture collar from the box, and secure it around her delicate neck. The gag is next. She groans when she sees that I’ve picked the gag she most hates. It’s a simple harness ball gag, but the ball is slightly too large, and it will pain her jaw long before her task is complete. But after all, this is meant to be a punishment. Her hands: I’ve decided to go with wrist cuffs instead of the bondage mittens. I fold her left arm behind her, wrap the cuff around her wrist, and tighten it. Then a thin leather strap, threaded through a ring on the cuff and the ring on the back of her collar. I pull it tight, drawing my little angel’s wing up behind her. I repeat with the the right hand, completing the reverse prayer. I’ve been enjoying the wrist cuffs lately more than the mittens, because I enjoy seeing her hands grab helplessly at the air as she works. I don’t think she realizes that they’re moving. “Turn around.” After she’s facing me, I examine the results. We have made a lot of progress lately. Her upper arms are nearly unseen. The strain of the position pushes her breasts proudly forward. I knead the soft globes, rolling her nipples between my fingers. Her nipples harden, and her breath quickens slightly–not from stimulation, but apprehension. There are several possibilities in the choice of nipple clips. Sometimes I leave her nipples unfettered. Just often enough that on each of these occasions, she can hope for it. Which option is it tonight? Clothespins. She’s stoic as I attach them. “Stand.” It always takes my breath away, how gracefully she moves in this situation. With her arms pinned behind her, standing should be a difficult test of balance. But she floats from the ground like a ballerina. I crouch down and secure the ankle cuffs, along with the 6 inch chain that will hobble her. Now the waist belt. Heavy leather drawn tight. It compresses her diaphragm, causing her breath to quicken again. I turn to grab the vacuum cleaner. When I turn back, her knees are splayed, ready for the next step. Attached to a swivel joint on the handle of the vacuum cleaner is a knobby rubber dildo. As I guide it into her waiting sex, I feel the wetness between her legs. Too bad the gag’s already in. I wipe my messy fingers off on her face so she’ll be smelling herself for awhile. It’s not like she needs to be reminded what a slut she is, but I like to do it anyway. Another pair of straps on either side of the dildo are soon loosely secured to rings on her waist belt. There is not enough slack that the dildo will fall out, but they’re loose enough that it has several inches of motion available. As she pushes and pulls the vacuum cleaner, the dildo will necessarily move in and out of her wet cunt, its knobby surface stimulating her silken walls. I turn the vacuum cleaner on. “OK, get to work.” She looks at me in surprise for a brief second, and then starts on her labor. “Oops, I almost forgot.” I say, as I pull the spreader bar out of the box. I secure it between her knees. It’s my little joke. I never forget :) Without the spreader bar, she could grip the handle of the vacuum cleaner between clenched thighs, and maneuver it around that way. With the spreader bar, the only real contact she has to the vacuum cleaner is via her wet pussy, wrapped around the dildo. Her hips sway forward and back as she gets to work. Back and forth goes the vacuum cleaner. In and out goes the dildo. She has to redo the whole floor when she’s missed a spot, to make sure she hasn’t missed any others. With the restrictions placed on her, it will take her at least an hour to redo the chore that only would have taken her 20 minutes unencumbered. “A stitch in time save nine,” I remind her. I give her another slap on the ass as I walk past her to my study. She grumbles something unintelligible into her gag and continues with her work.

Jen found the ball at a flea market, she was always looking for things to use for her favorite pass time, self-bondage. Seeing the large clear ball she stopped and looked at it and found that it had an opening that she thought she could fit herself through, the ball had “Made from Lexan” stamped in the bottom and a row of small holes crisscrossing its circumference. The lady that was selling it told Jen she thought it was an old dog training device sort of like a large hamster ball, Jen tried to open the cap but it seemed to be stuck and the lady said it hadn’t been opened since before she found it and she had never been able to get it to open. ...

Here is a little something I did a little while back in 2012. I also posted it on my Blog if anyone’s interested in a little more bondage kink. I had a chesty cough for the last 4 weeks that has only just gone away, and to top it off, it seems ages I have been feeling bloated and depressed as a result of what seems like a never ending period. It’s about time, but I guess I am back to my old self a bit now. But that’s enough about the vanilla me. After a quick shower this morning I was sitting on the corner of the bed towel drying my hair while Peter was watching the breakfast news. I had been a bit down last week as a result of what he insensitively calls the “Blob”. ...

Here is a little something I did a little while back in 2010. I had been made redundant so was between jobs. I also posted it on my Blog if anyone’s interested in a little more bondage kink. Emmas Self Bondage Frog Tie… Trapped 14th April 2010 I woke up this morning feeling exceptionally frustrated. It was signing on day for me as I am yet again between jobs. It is also very depressing. I recently got turned down for some Jobseekers cash I asked for, when I was out of work between October and mid November. It is their fault that my records were wiped from their computers, and I had also been on jury service too. This didn’t help as the interviews I was to have with the Job Seekers office were during my two week stint at the crown court! ...

(story continues from Home Invasion 4: Death & the Rat) Part Five: Reunion 10 Reunion It was Monday morning Jennifer realized as she lay on her belly sipping water through the bendable straw from the plastic container that the Tinies had set within reach. In just a few minutes her co-workers would no doubt be wondering where she was as it was almost 9 AM. She wondered just how long they would wait before one of them might call to find out if anything was wrong. If she was sick, stuck in traffic or held up by train delays, maybe not coming in at all. ...

Continues from chapter 13 Chapter 14 Next day Leslie sent Gwyneth out after lunch. Ostensibly by way of a penance or punishment for some unspecified misdemeanour, but actually for fun, to ride Zoltan in the forest dressed as a latter-day Lady Godiva, that is to say naked except for her long hair, Gwyneth’s naturally waist level mane being augmented for this purpose to near knee-length by a wig. They had been assured it was entirely private and devoid of Peeping Toms. Even so Gwyneth was not sure she much liked the idea of being out there on her own like that, though if she had complained she was sure Leslie would have retorted to the effect, “What’s like got to do with it.” ...

(story continues from My New Neighbour) Part 2 She was correct about the chastity device. Because it was there I was constantly reminded of her and more than once was tempted to remove it to relieve myself but I knew the consequences and believed her statements to me would be adhered to. Saturday evening finally arrived and although I do normally look after myself I made a special effort for her. I arrived at hers at eight wearing my best dark blue suit and rang the bell. ...

Dave had lost the bet, his girlfriend Maggie had a forfeit for him, it could be anything, and he had to go along with it. It had started a couple of years ago when they had first got together, every month a bet was made on the turn of a card, the loser would have a sexual forfeit, having to do whatever the other said. It had started out as a few mild spankings, bondage, performing oral on the winner, some time having sex with another person. But over the last 12 months it had got more extreme. Last time Dave had won he had taken Maggie to some woods, tied her spread eagled between some trees naked, gagged and blindfolded and had arranged for 2 men to come along and use her, roughly, he left her there for 4 hours. She had vowed revenge next time she won, this was it! ...

He was blindfolded. His hands tied behind his back. His mouth gagged. He was sitting on his knees, and they were starting to hurt from the hard floor. His ankles were cuffed to bolts on the floor. He was naked and cold, except for a pair of very tight briefs. The briefs hugged his balls and penis very tightly, making his balls ache from the pressure and his penis hard from the mere friction. He was shivering, and a bit scared. Not able to see, or feel anyone around him. In silence, he awaited her. ...

Howdy everyone out there in Bondageland. My bondage escapades have been a little slow of late as I haven’t really had the time to indulge myself. I have been writing a couple of new stories and work always gets in the way of everything, so when my friend Lisa sent me an email with a little bondage challenge. I opened the email to read this:- “You are tied with your hands above your head, in a standing position, naked except for stockings and high heels, nothing less than 4 inches. Your mouth should be gagged so you can barely make a noise, perhaps a cloth gag for this? I want your legs spread wide apart with your spreader bar, perhaps some rope around your legs just above the knee and tied to something else to really make you feel open and give more effect to the spreader bar. Nipple clips on too please! Hmm, the chain from the nipple clamps might be fun to attach that to either your wrist cuffs or perhaps a nice tight crotch rope, oh yes I like that idea hehe. If you have a butt plug, well you know where it goes babe. ...

This is a true story - it happened to me just yesterday. I decided to have a short session of self-bondage. I froze string near both ends into a small ice cube, and even melted down the ice cube to a smaller size by running it under the tap. I then attached the handcuff key to one end of the string, and tied the other end to a fixture above the stairwell of our house. My wife was at work, it was 1:00, and she wouldn’t be home until 6pm at the earliest - probably later. With the size of the ice cube, I was expecting to be free in less than an hour. My wife definitely doesn’t know I play these games from time to time. ...

(story continues from Chess) Part 2: Double or Quits Lady Livuetta strode into the House of Balance, clutching the invitation the Dealer had sent to her. It had been five days since she had lost her sister and many of her friends in her game against Madame Catalina, and she had petitioned the House’s otherworldly owner on each one of them to speak with her about her sister’s loss, confident that she could buy Theresa back. ...

(story continues from More Every Two Weeks) Part 2: Slave Auction Peter was enjoying his new life, living in the sun in southern France, it had been nearly a year since Janet had ‘gone away’, Well actually, he knew where she was, down in Spain tied to a bed servicing truck drivers for 20 euros a go, his cut over the last year had been nearly 130,000 euros – she had been very busy. ...

He was naked. He felt naked, exposed, and vulnerable, it was as if he was being judged sitting there on the stool. In a way he was, his commitment was being judged, how far was she going to take him this time? They had discussed the possibilities, but previous sessions were more… relaxed. Tonight, she was demanding, not harsh, but demanding, Her tone, her body language, everything. Tonight was not going to be about him at all, tonight was going to be about her and her needs. He was okay with that. She was somewhat intimidating, as she was slightly taller than he was, about five foot ten. Black corset with red lace outline, and matching leather boots, Her long black hair had a slight curl to it and was pulled back into a high ponytail, and even then it still fell to well below her shoulders. This woman meant business and he was salivating at the very sight of her. In a sense, she was his perfect woman. ...

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. ...

Last week an opportunity came up to get away to a weekend-house & ranch that my parents own. During the weekdays, no one is ever there, and only on some weekends. My wife & I had had a bad fight, and I had to get away for a day or two to clear my mind. I imagined that my darling wife in her anger, attached my chastity tube, and sent me off to her sister to be punished (that SIL hates my guts). ...

(story continues from The Eighth House 3: Questions) Part 4: The Mark It took me three days before I tried to simply walk through the door that led up to Lady Amelia’s rooms. Three days during which the only concession to training me came on the first morning, when Lady Amelia asked a dark skinned girl from somewhere in the south of the Hundred Kingdoms to show me how to stand and kneel, present myself and keep my eyes cast down when speaking to others who weren’t slaves. All that, in one strenuous morning, spent sweating naked through position after position until the girl, Nalla, was pleased enough with my progress to reward me with a kiss on the lips and a whispered assurance in my ear. ...

(story continues from Twisted Payback 3: Beth’s Story) Part 4: Reversal of Fortune This is the final part of this story; I recommend that you read the previous parts first to help understand what is happening. There are elements of mind control drugs in this part as well as a little violence. Please feel free to comment or email me, but please, if you don’t like my story do tell me why. Thanks for reading. ...

Lisa: (L:) I am not sure why I keep doing it. I guess it is because I like being naked outside. And I like the danger and the challenge. And since I already got away with it twice and both times I had mind-fucking orgasms, I figure why stop now? So after the usual careful planning, on this lovely summer afternoon I find myself doing something I truly love - hiking through the remote forest, nude and in inescapable, self-bondage. A little about me - I am 25 and single, 5'4" and rather petite. I have shoulder-length blond hair and light blue eyes. I have an athletic build from my regular distance running, a small round ass, a narrow waist and small B-cup breasts with long, extremely sensitive nipples. I am pretty enough to have regular boyfriends but at this time in my life, I am having more fun playing self-bondage games and hanging out with my friends. Life is too short to be too serious, right? But back to this story. ...

For Joyce, a thirty six year old divorced elementary school teacher, the upcoming encounter with Mike would be her first attempt at fulfilling a strong desire for bondage submission. Joyce, like many women in her age group, utilized the Internet as a means of exploring and fulfilling their bondage fantasies. Were it not for the Internet these fantasies would likely have remained dormant. For nearly three weeks Joyce had been chatting on AOL with Mike, a fifty year old machinist, who resided about fifty miles away. The two had exchanged pictures and the relationship had progressed to the telephone stage. ...

1: Discovered Jennifer Monroe craned her neck, wincing as stiff bones popped and feeling the slight ache from the strain on her tortured shoulders. Peering through the dim light of the setting sun streaming through the dusty blinds covering her windows she could just make out the blurry red glow of the numbers on the alarm clock radio situated on the thin shelf above the head of her bed. 7:38 PM. Almost two hours… ...

As Diane left the mothership she rolled her sled and looked back to watch as the other four girls shot forth from the launch tubes, in their sleds. “Come on slowpokes, we’ve only got three days before our furlough is over and we have to be back.” she spoke into the subcutanious radio relay that tied them all together as if they had telepathy. They only had to think who they wanted to talk to and they were online together. It would work with any number of the girls at one time. They were all tall heavily muscled girls, athletes that played as a team on an intergaletic squad playing a game that would be recognized as volleyball on any beach on Earth. They were each lying prone on individual space sleds wearing tight space suits for protection from the radiation and lack of air as they raced toward a planet in a nearby solar system that the ship’s instruments said had a breathable atmosphere, and was in the range of habitable distance from the mainline type star. The others caught up to Diane and swarmed around her in a barrel type formation with the clear tops of all the sleds toward each other. “Hey, Di, How come we’re going to this planet? It doesn’t have any civilization on it. No guys, no clubs, no nuthing!” “You know a better place in range of these sleds?” “Yeh Cheyrl, let’s go clubbing. We’d only have to spend about a year in the sled to get to the nearest club, that I know of, but you know of any closer?” “Yea, for Cheyrl, she knows of a Club we can go to instead of that barren old planet. Where is it Cheyrl? Just off to the right of this star, I guess!” “Ok, Ok, so we’re not right in the heart of downtown Galactic one, there’s got to be something somewhere, where we can go and have a good time..” “There is, little honey, and this little planet’s it.” “Come on Kat, lighten up on her, this is her first tour with the team, she doesn’t know that we don’t always stay right at home, and have the opportunity to play with boys all night every night.” “Yeh, but Syl, I don’t remember ever being this far out in the arms before. Where in Hell’s the coach taking us this time? There aren’t any teams for us to play this far out.” “Oh, the captain’s cutting across the arms to save time and he has this crazy idea that the mythical planet of Origin is somewhere out in this area according to some old books he has and some really ancient star charts he dug up somewhere when he found we were going in this direction.” “OK, you guys, roll out and get in line, we’re gonna be coming up on the R&R planet in a few minutes now. I’ll take a roll around it to see if there’s anything interesting to see, and if there is we’ll land there.” “Yeh, at least it’s got an atmosphere and we can take these damn suits off for a while.” “Hey, Kat, you bring a change of clothes?” “Naw, I thought I’d just strut my stuff in front of all the guys and watch their eyes bug out at the sight of a set of tits like these.” “Yeh, maybe that would be a good idea for Kat to run around naked, that’d bring any guys running if there were any in a parsec or two.” “Yeah, maybe some handsome space pirate or lost millionaire in his private yacht would show up for that spectacle.” “You sure proud of them big ole’ boobs of yours aren’t you, Kat.” “Sure am, Lil’ Liz, too bad you don’t have any to show off at the games, so you could get a guy now and again.” “All right, guys, swing in line and follow me, we’ll swing around once then decide where to land. OK?” “Sure D D. I’m on your tail. Liz?” “Gottacha, Cherry?” “Naw, some guy got her cherry a while back, but I’m behind her anyway.” “Jesus, don’t you girls ever think of anything but guys, and sex?” “Why Silly? Is there anything else worth while?” “Aw, you know Silly’s got some guy back home she’s mooning over.” “It ain’t never stopped her from letting some handsome dude pick her up.” “I’ve got to defend Sylvia now, I’ve never seen any guy pick her up…. at six four and two hundred twenty plus pounds there ain’t too many guys that CAN pick her up.” “Two twenty? What, is she on a diet again?” “Liz, you’re gonna’ pay for that.” “OK, enough BS, where we gonna’ land?” “Shit… the only thing I see that stands out at all is that little bunch of lakes about half way between the equator and the pole, on the smaller landmass.” “Yeh, they’re great, there’d be one for each of us. We could each have our own lake and I wouldn’t have to put up with the rest of you.” “Ok, the lakes it is, unless someone else has a better suggestion.” ...

story continued from The Pool, The Orchard & the Pony & Picking Apples with Penelope “Hello?” “Ah, hello Craig, glad to hear you were waiting by the phone. I need you at my place at 2pm this afternoon. No clothes.” Susan rang off, leaving me to listen to dial tone while contemplating what would happen to me this time. A year had gone by since Susan, my late uncle’s widow, had tricked me into becoming her ponyboy. We’d had some interesting adventures, but the one she had in store for me this time topped the lot. So I finally plucked up enough courage to share it with you all. ...

For the first part of my life I was scared to death of motorcycles, but my best friend Tina told me repeatedly that there was nothing like going for a ride on one. She admitted to me with a deep grin that she just recently went for “the ride of her life” on her boyfriends. It was a double entendre, but we had been friends long enough that they flowed between us naturally. We were more than just friends and roommates living together, but exclusive lovers until Tina’s boyfriend came into the picture. I was forced to share Tina after that, but Jim was at least a nice enough guy, and I even thought he got off on the idea in typical guy fashion. ...

Chapter 1 Rick had been dating Monique for a little over a month when he realized that he didn’t really know what she did for a living. He began to ask her about it, but she always avoided the topic. Rick started with subtle remarks, but by the end of their second month of dating, he was pointedly asking her what she did for a living. Still, she continued to sidestep the issue. Rick’s curiosity was beginning to get the better of him. ...

In the course of my twenty plus year dominatrix career, I have received numerous inquiries from females seeking to be a dominatrix, with the expectation that I will provide a submissive for them to practice upon. The vast majority of these requests are summarily rejected, my business is dominating females, and to a lesser extent males. Periodically I use associate dominatrix to assist me, but they have already proven themselves. ...

I had put my profile on the bondage website and received over 30 replies in the first week, I responded to them all before selecting one from a man who lived 20 miles away but wanted to travel to my house to meet me. I am a 33 year old male, 6ft slim, reasonable fit as I had run a few marathons over the last few years, with brown hair, whilst not the most handsome, I had had no trouble with women over the years. ...

Ellie’s story continues from Ellie in the Field & Ellie & the Phone Call Some of you may think Ellie is purely a fictional character. Let me assure you she is not. Much of what I have written about her comes from her own experiences that she related to me over the time I knew her. I do not deny that I may have provided enhanced descriptions here and there, but the events are reasonably accurate. Let me tell you about our first meeting. Betty, the neighbor down the road from Ellie’s grandparents, was my step mother. (Of course, I have changed the names to protect people’s privacy). ...

Men and Woman different in many ways, some obvious but others more subtle. Have you ever noticed anything unusual about women in general, for instance the way they look at you: studying you? Taking in your form your shape almost as if they are trying you out for size. Many times I’ve felt that a female mind is at work inside my head probing my brain studying my thoughts. Once finished she looks at you with an evil glint in her eye and you know that if it were possible you would be taken by her to be used for her pleasure. ...

. Men and Women are different in many ways, some obvious but others more subtle. Have you ever noticed anything unusual about women in general, for instance the way they look at you: studying you? Taking in your form, your shape almost as if they are trying you out for size. Many times I’ve felt that a female mind is at work inside my head probing my brain studying my thoughts. Once finished she looks at you with an evil glint in her eye and you know that if it were possible you would be taken by her to be used for her pleasure. We are the food for these predatory women luckily they are a minority and of course are unable to carry out their true desires with us. ...

Ellie’s story continues from Ellie in the Field The phone rang, and it startled Ellie. The first thing she thought was that something had happened to one of her grandparents. She was house sitting for them this summer, while her grandfather was getting cancer treatment in Minneapolis. She quickly picked up the phone and said, “Hello?” An old woman’s voice said, “Oh my. I must have the wrong number. I was calling for Betty”. ...

At the sound of the front door being unlocked, Jordan froze. For nearly an hour now, she’d struggled uselessly against the bonds that held her. Hands bound behind her, ankles bound together, she was further immobilized by a length of rope securing her ankles to one leg of the couch. Her mouth, packed full with a large scarf, which was held in place by a second scarf bound around her head, muffled any sound she tried to make. Still, she did try, soft, unintelligible sounds emerging as the front door opened. ...

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. ...

story continues from A Slight Miscalculation Marc Reilly closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh. It was days like this, he thought, that bothered him the most. One of the companies he held a major interest in, hard hit by the economic slump, was facing serious problems. An emergency meeting of the board had been called, which Marc had to attend. At the meeting, despite his best efforts to come up with an alternative, it had finally been decided that downsizing was the only way to keep the company solvent. Marc sighed again, thinking about the people about to lose their jobs. ...

Ellie’s story continues from Elle & the Old Farmhouse_ Ever since Ellie moved into her grandparent’s farmhouse, her life had shifted into the slow lane. She had jumped at the chance to go there when they asked her to help them out for the summer. She had no other prospects for a summer job, so why not? She thought that anything beats sitting around her parent’s house, with her mom ragging on her about finding a job, and being bored. Now she regretted that decision. This was far worse, but she was committed, and besides, her grandparents needed her help. She figured she could last the summer. ...

Last night started innocently enough. Honest. My brother came over for the first half of a football game. We had some dinner. My wife served us drinks. The conversation was good. At halftime my brother had to run to the airport to pick up some relatives to take to his house, so he left. So I told my wife/slave that I was horny and that she was officially in slave mode. She seemed a little pouty as we moved upstairs to our play space. I put on the big screen and told her to get naked. It was then, to my utter and complete surprise, that she said, “I don’t want to be a slave tonight”. ...

It had all started with a sample. Bryan Adcock, young heir to the Adcock Mining fortune, had received a sample of an unknown substance discovered in one of the company’s asteroid mines. On a whim, he’d placed the sample on the examination plate of his DNA scanner. But when he turned on the power, the sample had vanished, and now the scanner refused to work. With a sigh, he gazed around the room. Terry, his guardian, would be furious with him for breaking the scanner. Of course, Terry was furious at anything Bryan did that cost money. You’d almost think the money was Terry’s instead of Bryan’s. ...

This is by way of an introduction to my work. Specializing in all aspects of B.D.S.M, Self/bondage, Fem/Dom and all its facets, with some Pony Play & spanking thrown in for entertainment at times, all told in I hope a good rollicking good story. Current book titles published by Pink flamingo: Madam in Attendance, (a personal diary). Chloe& Me, A New Life. Also, The Erotic adventures of a 20th Century Lady, by Penelope Drops, (Female Domination). Out now & new is : The College. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Stacy tries self-bondage sessions in the greenhouse at new home. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Stacy wouldn’t have spent the money to add it, but when she bought her new home it was already in place. She wasn’t that into gardening, but the previous owner had kept a very large flower garden on the spacious grounds and had a large, glass enclosure attached to the back of the house alongside the deck where she raised prize-winning violets. ...

Sometimes you’re given lemons and you can make lemonade. Sometimes the lemonade just gets made for you. Take my in-laws moving to the desert for example. They retired, sold their Los Angeles area home for an incredible amount of money and bought a brand new house in the desert for 1/10th the amount. It’s great if you don’t have to work. The bad part was that family gatherings continued to be at their house. The problem was that it was no longer an afternoon affair; we had to pack up and make a journey. And stay a while. ...

“But Miss Rourke, I… I need this job. My husband has been out of work for almost a year and we have a baby.” “Mrs. Donaldson, they’re moving some departments in this division to Chicago and-” “I can go to Chicago. My husband doesn’t have a job. We can move.” “I’m sorry, but the decision has been made. There’s nothing I can do.” That wasn’t true, of course. Miranda, while young at 27, was for all intents and purposes COO and while her boss made the final decision in these matters, he pretty much rubber-stamped her recommendations. ...

“Has everyone has been invited to the party?”, asked Ellen, a lovely blond girl with a stunning figure and long legs. “Not everyone my darling”, replied Jeff, as he smiled at her. Jeff could not believe his luck that such a beautiful creature would even look at him, let alone agree to go out with him. Mind you Jeff was better looking then the average guy, dark curly hair slim figure and latent muscles. ...

Looking back on my childhood with the clarity of an adult woman I realize that, even at an early age I knew – or sensed – that something was different about my family. What you grow up with seems normal because that is what you experience as normal. It becomes your baseline even though it may be completely different from most everyone else’s reality. None of the women in my family were married. But more than that, there was a pronounced absence of men. As a young girl I didn’t think much about it. I knew other girls had dads but it didn’t seem all that strange. People leave, couples divorce, life goes on. I remember asking my mother once about who my father was. She told me he was a nice man but had died before I was born. From time to time my mother would go out. I knew she dated. But none of the men stuck around for more than one or two dates. ...

“Could you come in here a minute, hon?” “Be right there,” Maria replied absently, her eyes locked onto her computer screen. She loved jigsaw puzzles, but sometimes they could frustrate a saint. Like now. There was one piece that, no matter how hard she looked, simply was not there. Could a computer puzzle lose pieces? That one? No. How bout that one? Dang! “Are you coming, hon?” “On my way.” ...

Exploring the world of kink through the written word, KinkyWriter.com features erotic stories about bondage, domination, chastity, and more. If you enjoyed this story, please consider visiting the author’s website at www.kinkywriter.com for new kinky adventures every month!

My family was out of state visiting relatives and I had a urge to go farther into self bondage then I have ever gone before. You see I am a self bondage enthusiast and a exhibitionist as well so I wanted to combine the two and push the envelope of my limitations. It was a warm Tuesday evening and I was pumped and ready to go. All I was waiting for was for the clock to turn midnight. I chose this night because I was figuring that most people were not out on this night going out to clubs etc. ...

The request came out in the local newspaper for volunteers to help with a large project to raise funds for various charities in the city where I live. There was to be a basketball tournament like no other: teams of five and continuous eliminations over a two day period. So many people enjoy watching athletic games and other events without realizing there is so much work involved behind the scenes to make it all happen. I reasoned that I could find the time to help out as much as possible, and besides, volunteering is always a great way to meet new people and make new friends. So with the “zeal of the convert”, I donated both in time and financial ways to the program, and in the process become acquainted with coaches, players, basketball enthusiasts, and other volunteers. I became especially acquainted with two players on the basketball teams during my volunteer activities. They were both students at the local college and actually brothers, but so totally opposite. Both were tall with rather slim bodies,but the older brother Josh was at least a head taller than his younger brother Derek. I should mention that both brothers were on the college basketball team, but their coaches had given them and a few other players permission to take part in the city’s charity fund raising event–mainly as a promotion and public service ploy to increase potential donations and promote the upcoming college basketball season some weeks down the road. ...

(story continues from Finding the Right Trash Mistress 4) Part 5 “Hello there slaves wetting themselves over my slaves stories. I am Mistress Monique” “My slave is a bit tied up being compacted right now, so I thought that it would be only fitting to tell my side of this wonderful arrangement!” “Oh this part excites me the most, the compactor is crushing all the black bags flat into the bin behind my slave, Oh watching the force of the blade pushing my slave deep into the bin to be trashed for two days till we get him out, but as far as he knows he is going for a ride to the landfill permanently! OH I do enjoy tormenting his little mind!” ...

The following is true, these notes were written the evening my ordeal. During a hike thru a wetlands/wilderness area, last month I had found an ancient steel fixture, kind of a cage of bars, out in the middle of a stand of trees that were in the middle of a fenced 50 acre wetlands reserve. Hiking trails ran thru a large area that bordered this fenced off reserve. A couple days ago I did a hike thru the wetlands, and noticed how few people were on the trails weekdays in the early afternoon. ...

“Officer Kent, would you please describe the events of the evening in question.” “Well, at 10:48 we responded to a 911 call.” “What was the nature of the call.” “We didn’t know.” “Oh?” “The operator said there seemed to be someone on the line, but their responses were garbled, muffled.” “But you responded anyway.” “Yes. Lots of times it’s a prank, but you never know.” “Go on.” “I arrived first, but waited for backup before entering the property.” ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death. Self Suspension Gone Wrong Susan C Sbf; M/f; barn; naked; cuffs; susp; winch; stuck; true; cons; X This is a true story. About 8 years ago, when I began dating my husband. We are in to bondage full time. I still today enjoy suspension bondage. We lived out in the country on a small farm, nobody lived near this location. There is a large barn about 300 feet behind our house, the barn had a very high roof, about 80 feet. My husband put a winch on to a very large wooden rafter in the center of the barn. John, my husband would secure me to the winch cable and suspend me from the winch. ...

Jesus, Alex, turn off the fucking blinker! 2:00 a.m. Alex flicked the button, rolled out of bed, stretched, yawned, scratched himself, padded into the bathroom, climbed into the shower. When he came out Wendy was in the kitchen, wearing her fluffy robe and bunny slippers. She had a serious case of bed hair and she was clearly barely awake. She was screwing the lid on the Thermos bottle. He reached a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee. He reached a second mug and filled it, splashed in some milk and added a couple of packets of the blue stuff. ...

Gloria glanced at her phone. 8:58. She and Patty sat on the couch - silent. There had been some awkward conversation earlier. “He wants me here?” “Not you specifically. A friend was all he said. Someone I trust.” “Why?” “He didn’t say.” “So you met him on-line.” “Yeah.” “And you have, what, virtual sex?” “No. Not really.” “But you have a relationship.” Gloria wagged her hand. “Kind of.” “What about meeting him, like in the real world.” ...

I welcomed the chance to return to San Francisco for a business conference. It had been three years since I had started my current job in another state, and I was looking forward to returning to the city where I had spent two years working for a private corporation following my university graduation. I was traveling alone and had no one with me for the two days that I was there. This came as a surprise, since there were two of us originally scheduled to attend, but a last minute emergency forced my co-worker to have to cancel. My flight arrived at the San Francisco airport and a taxi took me to my hotel quite early in the morning. When I checked in, I told the clerk at the check-in desk that I was alone and would only need a room for one instead of the room with two beds. The convention was being held in the same hotel, and I found that I would have to keep the same room–but they did give me a $20 discount since only one person would be using the room and only one of the beds. I was amazed at how much the city had changed since I had lived in the area! I attended the necessary meetings during the first day, but avoided the convention’s social event in the evening so I could have the time to myself. As usual, I went for a walk. The convention hotel was situated just three blocks from a favorite restaurant that I used to patronize as often as I could – it was a soup and salad, all-you-can-eat restaurant, and the food was delicious. That was the first place I wanted to visit that evening. I found the restaurant–or what was left of it. I later found out that about a month before the convention, the place had burned to the ground; all that remained was a pile of burned timbers and blackened walls. I stood and looked at it for a few minutes, then in a disappointed mood began to walk down the street it had been on. The name was Polk Street and when I had lived near the city a few years before, it had been the street where most of the gay and lesbian couples lived and congregated. I walked for about three blocks, passing several homeless people interspersed among the couples holding hands. These homeless people were a relatively new addition, and were sitting on the sidewalk in front of various businesses asking for handouts. Most of the homeless people were older and seemed quite off-balance and derelict in their dress and demeanor. I found out that there was a renovated homeless shelter not far away, but many of them just seemed to enjoy the adventure of living on the street and refused to go there. One of these homeless people looked in my direction as I passed by and my attention was immediately drawn to him. He was just a young guy, perhaps late twenties. He had light brown hair and brown eyes, and was obviously quite tall even though he was sitting against a wall when I spotted him. He was not bad looking at all, just somewhat scruffy from not having a razor and way too young to be homeless–at least he seemed totally out of place among all the older individuals. He held out his hand as I passed, and for some reason, I stopped to talk to him. Unlike the others, he seemed to be somewhat sophisticated and alert. I asked him how he came to be homeless, and why he had not gone to the nearby shelter. He replied that he had been there often, but people were only allowed to go there four days a week; he had one more day before he could go again. He was looking forward to a shower, he told me, but had to wait until tomorrow night. He just needed some money to buy a couple of meals until then. I told him my first name and explained that I was from out of town and staying at a hotel just a few blocks from there. He was welcome to come back to my room with me and have a shower if he wanted. He gratefully accepted, and I came to the conclusion that he was actually embarrassed for the circumstances that he found himself in and considered it anything but an adventure or a way of meeting people like some of the homeless appeared to accept. He grabbed a small bundle laying on the ground next to him, and as we walked to my hotel, he told me a little about his life to that point. I was not really paying attention to all the specifics, but I do recall that he had two small daughters that he missed greatly. His wife would not let him see her or them until he could find employment and “get his act together”. He was trying, but things did not seem to be working out. He was an actor/model and there just didn’t seem to be any possibilities for employment at the time despite all his attempts to find work. He couldn’t even find a job waiting tables or sweeping floors because of his appearance. He did have more clothes at the homeless shelter, but the bundle he carried was just enough to get him by until he could return there tomorrow night. That is about all I can recall of our conversation, but my heart went out to him for his dire situation. It didn’t surprise me though that he was a model. Despite his scruffy appearance, he looked like one!! As we walked through the hotel lobby, there were quite a number of people who looked at him–some probably marveled at how handsome he was, but most were probably looking at him with with disgust at his appearance.We rode the elevation up and arrived at my hotel room. He was polite enough to refrain from sitting on any chairs or the beds since he said he was too dirty. I gave him a towel and told him to take his time in the shower. He thanked me and disappeared into the bathroom. Time for a small commercial break in this story…… and a brief explanation: I do volunteer work with a number of volunteer organizations where I live, and donate to various charities when I am able. To say that I am a zealous humanitarian would be stretching the imagination somewhat. I do have various vices, and streaks of selfishness, and……. other things. One of my selfish transgressions centers in my enjoyment of bondage with other guys. There are no reservations as to age, physical appearance, occupation, nationality, or anything else–any guy of legal age will work fine in my passion for bondage. But, as can be expected, this interest that I have is not something that is usually brought up in social circles and casual conversations. It requires a fair amount of planning and creativity at times to make it happen and change a fantasy to a reality, which is something I was hoping to do now. But my plot was developing from each passing minute to the next. I was selfishly hoping that somehow, I could maneuver this situation into seeing this homeless model tied up without hating myself after for taking advantage of him. Now……. back to the unfolding story. He took a longer-than-normal shower, and stepped out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He asked me to hand him the small bundle of clothes that he had left on the floor beside the writing table in the room, explaining that they were still slightly dirty, but cleaner than the ones he had taken off. I barely heard him–I was too absorbed in looking at him wearing nothing but a towel (and I should add that I am not gay). Some people just merit a more detailed and prolonged viewing. He was well built, with well-developed chest and leg muscles and his feet were great looking as well. He had a generous amount of chest hair covering his upper body, and I remember thinking that with a great looking body like that, he especially did not deserve the necessity of living on the street. He really deserved to be plastered on billboards and posters for the model that he was! He took his small bundle, asked permission to use my razor (I could only muster a nod with my open-mouthed stare), and disappeared into the bathroom again, only to emerge twenty minutes later: dressed, but still barefoot. He wore short trousers that only went to his knees, and a shirt that only had three buttons near the bottom. Now that he was “cleaner”, he felt comfortable enough to sit on the second bed and we made small talk for a time while I had a perfect view of his bare feet, hairy lower legs, and the upper part of his hairy chest that his shirt did not adequately cover. He seemed to be in deeper thought as we talked, and finally asked if anyone was using the second bed that night. I shook my head, “no”. He swallowed a couple of times, then asked me if it might be possible for him to use it that night. He posed the question in an almost pleading voice, and I thought maybe this could work to my advantage (and his as well), so I cautiously agreed. I explained that it was originally intended to have another convention attendee staying with me, but plans had changed at the last minute. I told him that I had received a discount on the room, but could pay the difference myself so he could sleep in a bed that night. His appreciation was clearly evident. And he was very willing to show his appreciation by what he said next. ‘‘Jake," he said, “I am honest, discreet and you can trust me. If you want any special favors from me, I am willing to do anything that you want.” Then looking directly into my face, he added, “If you want any sexual gratification from me, I would be willing to provide it to repay you. I hope that you aren’t offended by that comment, but I have provided….. gratification for others in that way who have done me a favor. I have even shared a bed with other people–both women and men.” I was surprised by his openness. “That’s not necessary,” I replied. He seemed to give a sigh of relief. Then the creative idea hit me! I had to ‘seize the moment’–even if it might possibly lead to hating myself later. “I hope you won’t mind if I take some precautions though,” I told him. He looked at me with a puzzled look, and I continued. “I need to go the reservation desk and pay the discount back.” He shook his head and mumbled that he was even more puzzled that I felt the need to be so honest. “I hope it makes you realize that I am also honest and you can trust me as well,” I continued. “When I do, I will stop at the hotel drug store for a toothbrush for you, and the hotel restaurant to get some supper for us as well. I will likely be gone for about thirty minutes.This being a hotel and dressed like you are, it might be best for you to wait in the room.” He nodded his understanding and agreement. I continued, “I do trust you, but I hope you don’t mind my precautionary action. While I am gone, you could rob me blind and be gone by the time I get back.” He nodded his head and gave a slight smile. “I wouldn’t do that, but I can understand why you want to be careful. Do you want me to wait in the hall?” “You are cleaner,” I said light heartedly, “but your clothes still brand you as homeless, or at least an unsavory character. You probably should wait here in the room.” He gave me a puzzled look and scratched his forehead. “Have you ever been tied up?” I asked. His eyebrows raised slightly, but then he smiled. “I never have,” he said, “but a couple of the others who have wanted some gratification for doing me a favor have asked me to tie them up, then jack them off or give them a blow job or…… Wait a minute. Are you going to tie me up during the time that you will be gone?” I nodded. He took a deep breath and appeared relaxed. “That will be fine with me, Jake,” he continued, “I understand your concern. We really don’t know each other that well. You don’t even know my name. It’s Cody, by the way.” “Cody,” I repeated, “nice to meet you…. officially. Find a television station that you might enjoy watching while I get some rope from my suitcase.” I was more than excited! A plan to get Cody tied up was moving along nicely! Time for another commercial message: I mentioned before that originally there were two of us who were to attend the conference, but a last minute emergency had caused my coworker to cancel. There may be a question as to why I had rope in my suitcase. With my interest in male bondage, I had hoped to somehow talk my coworker into letting me tie him up. Just how that would come about, I was not sure, but wanted to be prepared if the opportunity should arise. I had just overlooked removing it from my suitcase. The stars must have been alligned in my favor! Now back to the story: “Why do you have rope in your suitcase?” Cody asked me. “I was going to be prepared for a possible demonstration of something during the convention… with my coworker,” I replied in a sort of half truth. Cody smiled and took the television remote, then began flipping channels to find an interesting one. When he had selected one, he looked at me. “Can I lay on the bed while I am tied up?” I nodded. “Do you mind if I take off my shirt?” he asked. “That would be fine,” I replied, thinking that there were only three buttons holding it on and two of them looked like they were ready to pop off at any time. He smiled and removed the remnants of his shirt, then moved to the center of the bed laying on his back. It appeared that he thought I was going to tie his hands and feet to the four corners of the bed. “Cody, roll over onto your stomach,” I said. He looked at me with a puzzled expression, then did it. I kneeled on the bed beside him and pulled his hands behind his back. He looked up at me again. “Tying my hands together like this might make it easier for me to untie myself,” he said in a lighthearted way. I smiled at him, “I will take that chance.” I crossed his wrists behind him and tied them together. I moved to his bare feet and tied them together, side by side. I took a third rope and hogtied him, then stood up off the bed. The ropes were somewhat tight, and cinched with cross ties, and I had tied the knots out of his reach. He tested the ropes then smiled back at me. “I am pretty sure I will be here when you get back.” I looked into my wallet to make sure I had what I needed while he squirmed into position so he could watch the television. When I left, he was laying on his side with his hands and feet hogtied together behind him, watching the television. I went to the restaurant and placed an order, then while it was being prepared I went to the drugstore for a toothbrush and some toiletries, then the check-in counter to pay back the discount. The clerk asked no questions as to why, and I didn’t volunteer any reason. I picked up the food from the restaurant and returned to my room. As I rode the elevator up, I realized that I did not really know the young, homeless model laying hogtied in my hotel room. I also wondered what sort of idiot I was to do something like this–after all, I had only found out his name less than an hour ago! I unlocked the door and slipped into the room. Cody looked at the door, smiled at me, then looked back at the television. He had not moved from his hogtied position, laying on his side, since I left, but I was confident that there was an erection that had formed and the front of his pants were showing a definite wet spot. I wasn’t sure if it was due to the television show, or the fact that he was tied up. I set the food down on the writing desk in the room, and moved to the bed to untie him. He rolled onto his stomach so I could get to the knots more easily, and I slowly untied his hands and feet. I told him that we could both watch the television as we ate. He was deeply engrossed in a movie, and I gathered up the plates and napkins after we finsihed eating. “I can do that,” he volunteered. “Cody, you are an actor and need to focus on your profession–keep watching the movie!” He gave me a big smile and settled back into the propped up pillows on his bed. I looked at him a lot as I cleaned up, enjoying the sight of his “model” hairy chest and legs and bare feet, and remembering how he had looked while hogtied on the bed. When the movie ended, it was about 10:00 p.m. “It is 11:00 p.m.Mountain Standard Time,” I apologized, “and I have meetings tomorrow.” We pulled the bedspreads from our beds, and he also pulled the top sheet down. He kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye, and finally sat down on the edge of his bed. I looked at him directly, and he swallowed a couple of times before he spoke. “Jake,” he began, “thanks so much for helping me out like you are doing tonight.” I shrugged it off, “I really enjoy your company, Cody. I honestly do.” “Do you intend to tie me up tonight while we sleep? After all….,” he pointed out with a smile, and even added a wink, “I could very easily ‘rob you blind’ and leave while you are asleep.” I smiled back. Somehow I got the impression that he had enjoyed being tied up. I asked him outright. This time he shrugged his shoulders as he looked at the floor, then looked up at me and smiled again as he said, “Oh, it wasn’t that bad, and sort of fun.” I had a hard time keeping my excitement hidden, but I think I was somewhat successful. I just smiled back and said, “Well, I think it would be a good idea–you know–the precaution thing?” With that, he swallowed again and I knew another question was coming. In a softer voice, he said, “If I am able to sleep in a bed–and not at the homeless center–I do like to sleep in the nude. Is that offensive to you?” I should have been sitting down, because my knees went sort of weak! In a voice that I hoped wasn’t completely evident of my excitement, I told him, “No, I am not offended by that.” He smiled again and removed his pants. I did sit down this time!! I had not seen his entire naked body before now–he had been wrapped in the towel before. All I can say is: he looked awesome. It may have been jealousy on my part, more likely awe, but I almost wished that I was gay! I got my ropes from the floor where I had tossed them when I untied him before supper, and he lay down on his bed. “How are you planning to tie me this time?” “Move to the center of the bed and lay on your back,” I told him. He did, and I tied his hands and feet to the four corners of the bed in a spread position. I wanted to make sure he would be comfortable enough to get some sleep. When I finished, he looked fantastic!! His arms and legs were stretched out, and his entire “model” body was fully exposed: hairy chest and armpits and legs, bare feet that were soft and flawless, and the final icing on the cake being an erection that pointed to the ceiling like a flagpole and was beginning to leak before the knots had been completely tied! He did not want any covering from the top sheet, he just wanted to lay on the mattress and bottom sheet. I undressed and climbed between my sheets, then went to sleep laying on my side as I just stared at the scene in front of my eyes. I couldn’t take my eyes off his flagpole, and wondered how it could be so long and tall!! Small wonder that he didn’t want the top sheet rubbing against it or making contact in any way! I am usually a sound sleeper who can sleep through an earthquake, volcanic eruption, and tsunami combined, but I did not sleep well that night. The sight before me would not allow it! At one point I dozed, but woke up and opened my eyes when I heard some low moaning coming from the bed next to mine. Cody was somewhat restless and was looking my direction when I opened my eyes. He seemed to be in distress, and apologetically told me that he had to go relieve himself in the worst way. I jumped out of bed, and quickly untied him. I untied one hand first and he used it to untie his other hand while I untied his feet. He bolted from the bed when he was free and hurried into the bathroom. While I gathered up the ropes and after a few minutes, I heard the water running in the sink, and he emerged from the bathroom, looking like an embarrassed schoolboy. He sat on his bed, and we talked for a couple of minutes. I apologized for putting him in that situation, and he did his best to let me know he was okay. He slid up into the center of his bed and politely reminded me that I needed my sleep–announcing that he was ready to be tied up once again and he should be okay now for the rest of the night. I was ready to tell him that he did not need to be tied up again, but before I could speak, he asked me if I could do him a favor. “Jake,” he said,“could you hogtie me the same way that you did earlier when you left me alone in the room? I am sort of cramped from being spread like I was, and I had to stay in one position and could not move at all. I think I could move around a little more in a hogtie.” As he was speaking about being tied up again, I noticed that his erection was starting to return. For some reason, I thought he must be enjoying himself more being tied up–and who was I to spoil his good time? I nodded, and he gave me a grateful smile. I also thought I noticed a twinkle in his eye–but I’m not sure. He moved to the center of his bed and lay on his stomach, placing his hands behind him just above his round butt cheeks. I crossed his wrists and tied them together. I then tied his feet together, side and side, and hogtied his feet to his hands–but not too tightly. He looked up at me. “Could you tie my hands and feet a little closer together–please?” he asked. I did as he requested, and left less than a foot of slack between his hands and feet. I rolled him onto his side so he was facing my bed and noticed that his erection had definitely returned in full glory, and he was getting a little moist on the end of his long flagpole. He looked at me and by now, I guess he figured he could comfortably ask me anything. “Jake, are you gay?” he asked, and I shook my head. He gave a sigh and looked straight ahead. “Cody, do you want me to help you reach a climax?” I asked. He looked at me again in a pleading sort of way, and said, “Would you please?” He rolled as far onto his back as the hogtie would allow, and I began to stroke and tickle his cock with my fingers. He pulled his shoulders back and pushed his genitals out as far as he could to help me out, closed his eyes and tried not to make much sound. In that, he was not successful. I stroked and tickled with one hand, and rubbed his hairy chest and tweaked his brown, quarter-size nipples till they stood up like two panic buttons with my other hand. It didn’t take long before he shot a large stream! I was again in awe at how much cum he had and how easily it came– realizing how recent his trip to the bathroom had been! He rolled back to lay on his side with his eyes closed and a large smile on his face, breathing deeply while I got a couple of wet washcloths from the bathroom and cleaned up his cum from the bed and floor and even my leg. When I returned to my bed after washing my hands, he looked my direction. He was still tightly hogtied, laying on his side with his large cut flagpole sticking out, twitching once in a while, and looking like it was still maintaining an excited erection. “Thanks so much, Jake,” he said. “I have not been able to do that for such a long time. I can’t play with myself or masturbate in the homeless center–the rules are so strict and I could lose any chance to stay there again. I can’t do it on the street when I have to sleep there since the other homeless people are always close and some never sleep. It’s been a long time. It’s great to be on the receiving end and not servicing someone else.” he commented. I asked him if he wanted to be untied, and he told me “no”. He closed his eyes and was asleep within a few minutes. I stayed awake for a while and just enjoyed the sight of his nude, hogtied body. I didn’t sleep much the rest of the night, and wished that this was not my last night in The City. The next morning, I asked him if he wanted to be untied before I went to the restaurant to get some breakfast for us. He had slept through my morning shower and shave. I had untied the hogtie rope while I dressed, but left his hands and feet tied. This gave him a few minutes to stretch his arms and legs a little. He smiled at me as he rolled onto his stomach and again told me “no”. As I put the room key in my pocket and moved toward the door, he called me back. “Jake, could you put me into a hogtie again, and make it a little tighter?” I couldn’t believe he was making a request like that! I carried it a little further and tied a rope around his elbows–but could not pull them close to each other because of his well-developed upper torso. There was another big smile on his face as I tied a rope to his feet and pulled them up as far as I could to tie them to the rope tying his elbows. In fact, his feet were pulled up a few inches higher on his back than where his tied hands rested on his butt cheeks. He was tied too tightly to leave alone, and I asked him if he would be okay for about twenty minutes. He answered, “Oh yes,” with a big smile. The hotel breakfast was a buffet type, so I filled two plates and took them up to my room. I was uncomfortable leaving Cody tied up as he was for very long. When I arrived at my room, he had shifted somewhat on the bed, but was still as tightly hogtied as when I left him. The smile had not disappeared either. I untied him and he disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared a bit later, and ate his breakfast in the nude–again after confirming with me that it was not offensive to me. As I cleaned up the disposable dishes, he put on his short pants and shirt, and slipped into his battered gym shoes. The rope marks on his elbows, wrists and ankles had virtually disappeared during breakfast. He shook my hand at the door of my room, thanked me and told me he could find his way out of the hotel–he didn’t want me to be embarrassed by being seen in his company. I told him that was not the case at all, and thanked him for allowing me to help him out in some small way. He just shook his head again at my response and smiled as he looked at the floor. I told him to wait a minute and pulled my wallet out of my pocket. I gave him a $50 and $20 dollar bill (not much I know, but remember this was back in the 1980’s when things were a lot cheaper) and told him to use it to buy him some good clothes that might help him move off the street. He shook my hand again and walked toward the elevator. I have wondered since: did he ever find a good job? Did he ever reunite with his wife and two daughters? My vivid imagination caused me to wonder if, in reality, he was a magazine writer who was doing a story on the homeless…. firsthand? Maybe he was better actor than he was letting me think? Or maybe a multi-millionaire who was just seeing how other people survive? Lots of questions have caused me to think about this experience and I have no answers. All I know is that I had the opportunity to tie up a handsome guy who was the epitimy of a male model, and I had a great time! And I think he did too! For the record, I slept through most of my convention meetings that day, and enjoyed a good nap on the flight home later that evening. With the memories I had–it was worth it!! ...

(story continues from Three J’s and an S Go Skiing Day 6) Day Six: Part 2 Again, there is basically NO SEX IN THIS SEGMENT. This is the second half of what was supposed to be a minor plot and character development. I may turn these stories into a book someday, so I am leaving the section, but putting it in its own segment that you can just skip if you want to. If you just want the sex skip to Three J’s and an S Go Skiing - Day 6, Part 3. Judy and Julie tell the others what happened in the afternoon and Sara tries to get things back in balance in the red ass cheeks department. For the most part, the stories in this series are pretty mild. If you are looking for heavy duty stuff, try one of my other story series. ...

Jasmine and Mike had been together for a year now, they had a good strong relationship and a healthy sex life. Mike had no complaints with Jasmines body as it got him hard whenever she stripped and showed off her assets. She kept it in shape by visiting the gym regularly; she loved showing it off as much as she did giving it exercise. Jasmine was 21 and had the most amazing breasts, and she knew it - her wardrobe focussed on making sure everyone noticed the 36” assets. They were large, firm and her nipples very sensitive and were often showed off with the low tops she would choose. Her tanned skin, and dark hair really emphasised her sexuality, she was a great catch and Mike knew he was lucky. ...

A light flares into existence. Slowly the scene resolves. There is a wooden box on a pair of saw horses. The box is made of boards with cleats and corner posts. It’s not very large; something under six feet long, less than two feet wide, perhaps eighteen inches deep. Next to the box is a large, blue plastic barrel. Below, a shiny, stainless steel bucket. Beyond nothing but inky shadow. ...

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a sequel to “Drip, Drip” featuring the same characters. It can be read as a stand-alone story though. STOP YER TICKLING! Will you stop yer tickling, Jock! Oh, stop yer tickling, Jock! Dinna mak’ me laugh so hearty, Or you’ll mak me choke. Oh, I wish you’d stop yer nonsense, Just look at all the folk. Will yer stop yer tic-kle-ing, tic-kle-ic-kle-ing. Stop yer tickling Jock! ...

The knock came at 7:20. The date was for 7:00, but this was Provence after all. Margo left the couch to answer the door. “Bon jour! Bon Jour! Ca va?” The women did the cheek bump, air kiss thing. “Bien. Bien. Et vous?” “Bien, merci.” Margo noticed the guest’s car glistened with rain, sheltered under the portico. She led the guest through the house. The small villa, normally bright and airy with its many windows and white plaster walls, was plunged into darkness. There was no moon that night and the storm clouds made it all the more black. It was a gentle rain, though. A warm, steady, summer rain. The sound of it pattering on the tin roof over the patio echoed in the living room. ...

My phone rang one Saturday morning a couple of months ago. It was my brother, Sam, asking me to check on his daughter, Lisa, as he and his wife hadn’t heard from her in over a week. I told him I’d take ride over to her place and tell her to give him a call. I called her myself and got no answer so I hopped in my truck and headed out to the outskirts of town. ...

Ordinarily, I am a person who is slow to anger–but sometimes, with what I consider just cause, I do lose control of my temper. And after the few times when that has happened, I have a tendency to seek the opportunity for revenge. Nothing extreme really, but just the opportunity for a little humiliation. I had recently graduated after four years at a university, and accepted a position with a large corporation on the west coast. Moving there involved a two-day drive, then sufficient time to secure living arrangements, but I was fortunate and things came together at a remarkable pace. I found the perfect location about a 45-minute drive from the city center and contracted to live in an apartment complex that surrounded a fairly large courtyard–with a swimming pool, no less. There were two levels to the complex, and I resided in the lower level so that my front door opened into the gated courtyard. The apartment directly above me was accessed by stairs leading up from the courtyard to a walkway balcony. The residents were very friendly and accommodating, and I quickly made friends with most of those living in the surrounding apartment units: some were single like myself, some married, some living together outside of marriage, and a few same gender couples as well. Several months later, I received a telephone call from a good friend that I had left behind at home. He had a friend, who had a friend, who had a brother that was recently married and was moving to the same area of California where I was living. He had given this young man my address and told him to look me up when he arrived, and I would be more than happy to guide his hand and help him get settled. I don’t mind helping out in situations like that and enjoy meeting new people, so I really looked forward to meeting the young newlywed. Besides, I was informed that he was an honest, respectable guy and a great person. Just a few days earlier, I had helped the gay couple in the apartment above me to move out of their unit necessitated by a change of employment. I knew that the apartment was available, and made a visit to the apartment manager. I informed the landlord that I might have new occupants for the unit above me if she was interested in filling it quickly. She enthusiastically told me to have this young couple visit with her when they arrived. The next day on a Friday evening after I had returned from work, a knock came at my door. It was the young man who had been given my address and was moving to the area. Derek was his name. He was alone and when I asked, he informed me that he had driven the rental truck containing their meager furniture and household items, and his new wife was driving their car. She would be arriving tomorrow in the late afternoon since she had detoured into a neighboring state to visit with her sister for a time. I invited Derek into my apartment and told him to get comfortable. He was obviously tired from a long drive, and I invited him to join me for supper and spend the night in my apartment–an invitation he readily accepted and seemed very relieved. Derek seemed like a nice guy. I informed him that there was an apartment right above my own, and that if he might be interested, he could visit with the landlord while I prepared a light supper for us. He asked me some questions about rent and the neighbors, then realizing it was a great opportunity, excused himself and headed for the landlord’s unit to talk with her. As I threw a quick supper together, I wondered how he would be as a neighbor. He was definitely friendly and outgoing, and seemed to be quite ambitious. He was about my height, light brown hair, not muscular–but not thin–just a somewhat lanky, average build. He wore glasses most of the time which gave him a studious look (he probably knew a lot about a lot of things). He had shown me a picture of his new wife and she seemed to be a little plump, but with a pretty face and beautiful eyes. They seemed like a nice couple. ...

It almost happened today in my first outdoor self bondage session, the fear of being caught. I’ve been into not only self bondage for awhile but bondage in general. I’ve been turned on by it since I was younger and as I grew older I learned more. I loved reading stories about it, videos, toys etc. Most recently a few months back I decided to Google Self Bondage I don’t know how I thought of it but I was looking online for new ideas. New ideas for me to add to my private sessions. New techniques. I came across this site about self bondage stories about some people getting caught, some not almost getting out at all, and their adventures. Outside self bondage is different than just tying yourself up inside. Some of the stories involved both male and female persons tying themselves up and leaving their clothes in a secure area and the key to their release in another. This way what the authors described were tales of them walking thru the woods naked, bound and gagged, hobbling because they were wearing shackles and them telling how they were almost caught. These people were either in areas like public parks after hours, or around their own house. ...

I was always sad to see my wife, Marsha leave, that is until she was gone. She would be gone over a week this time, and I was immediately busy preparing my next self bondage session within minutes. I’d been corresponding on line with this guy named Terry and had some new ideas I couldn’t wait to try. What I didn’t know was that my laptop had been linked to Marshas! She never really read all my emails, she just assumed I was cheating on her with a woman named Terry and she was sure she was going to catch me in the act. ...

story continued from part one The Games We Play: Part 2 For Rob at Ropedreams http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Rope_Dreams/ thanks for inspiring me. Hope you enjoy the rest of the story. I wasn’t sure how long I was unconscious for, but the pounding in my head felt like it was going to explode. I was still blindfolded, this time with a rag or a cloth of some sort. My hands were crossed and tied tightly behind my back with a rope or a cord, and I could feel there was a cloth of sorts in my mouth as I probe at it with my tongue. It was held in with a viciously tight cloth that pulled my lips back slightly from my teeth and felt like it was cutting into the corners of my lips. It was very thick too, and I could do nothing but chew helplessly on the gag. ...

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. ...

My wife is generally pretty prim and proper. She has a great high-paying job. She has numerous friends, loves to work out, and competes in tri-athlons. What very few people know is: she is also my bondage slave. Recently, it was time once again to attend a gala my company puts on every year. Now since we have been to about 25 of these, I decided that this time we should spruce the evening up a bit. ...

A story from an old disk I forgot I had. I didn’t have access to the internet yet so I didn’t know other people were into stuff like this. My only inspiration was ‘News of the Weird’, Weekly World News’, and various ‘strange but true books so I wrote the kind of news stories I’d like to see. (A.P.-Mexico) When workers loading boxes of ironing boards onto trucks outside a factory in Monterey, Mexico heard something rustling inside one of the boxes they first thought it was a rat but instead found factory worker Raphael Orega – naked, wrapped in clear plastic, wedged into a stack of similarly wrapped ironing boards, sealed in a corrugated cardboard box, and ready to ship. The hapless worker had been trapped in there for almost two days and was en route to a wholesaler in Belgium. ...

Please visit my blog for Amanda’s Information/CG representation (under adult fiction) or to get the latest information about the new collectible card game Solo Bound Female at http://madhatter815.blogspot.com. Thank you. Continued from part one Part 3: Out and About When last we left Amanda, she was still naked with her wrists cuffed behind her back and her ankles locked together. Her friend/safety Sarah had arrived. The problem was she seemed to be making things worse. She tricked Amanda into going outside to get her ‘keys’ only to find that they were her car keys and not the ones for her cuffs. Now she’s locked-up and outside with the porch light beaming down on her bare skin for the entire world to see. The only option appears to be getting the spare key from her car. If only that were as easy as it sounds… ...

I have my shed out back cleared out. I have eye bolts threaded into the floor plates around the diameter. To a couple about three feet from the back wall, I attached 3 inch O rings. I did the same to the ones at six inch distance along the back wall. I tied a rope to the ones and the door wall, and tied that tight. I put the rope through another O ring. ...

I thought I would never leave work this evening, it was always the same. Someone always wants something at the last minute. It makes me angry how most people I meet are what I call “crisis managers”. Always leaving things to the deadline, then, dumping the work on a colleague to do at the very last minute. I eventually finished the report, dropped it in the “In” tray and walked out before someone wanted something else doing. Unpaid volunteer work for campaign season would look good on a C.V but sure was a killer on your social life. ...

story continues from ‘A Ride to?’ The Adventures of Ken The Missed Detail I hope that you have read my first adventure, ‘A Ride To?’ If not then a brief introduction: I am a single male age 35. I live in a small rural community in Canada. Needless to say, I’m into self-bondage and have been for quite some time. After my last close call and the ensuing trip in the trunk, I had kept my bondage sessions indoors and lower risk. Well, that was the plan anyway. I had several EDOs accumulated at work, and I decided to take a few and have a long weekend to myself to indulge my passion. To avoid people dropping by the house, I let it be known that I was going to be gone over the weekend. I went and checked my mail at the Post Office and on the way home ran into Jennifer, a 30+ lady who lives in one of the few apartments in town and commutes an hour to her job in Town, as the locals call Lamsburg. I have been on friendly terms with her for a couple of years, but have never pursued a relationship. I don’t know why I haven’t, as I find her very attractive and she is often the center of my erotic thoughts. I chatted with her for a few minutes, mentioned I would be away until Tuesday night. She told me to have a nice trip and with a brief wave headed toward her home. ...

Denise checked her watch. “Shit!” No way was she going to make ten blocks in ten minutes. She crossed the street, dodging traffic, and climbed into a cab parked outside the Marriott. “508 Pecan,” she told the driver. Still the ride took fifteen minutes, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw another cab at the curb and Lisa stepping out. Lisa was Anderson’s go-to gal so if she was late how much trouble could there be? ...

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. ...

RG Bargy has also published ebooks at http://www.adultebookshop.com/R_G_Bargy-all-titles.php or on Amazon Kindle I had known Elspeth for several years as a work colleague and friend. We rarely associated with each other socially, although we kept each other company at office do’s and the like. She was neither staggeringly beautiful or grossly unattractive, with long straight blond hair and a slightly too well proportioned figure. I knew she kept fit by going swimming several times a week. As far as I knew she had a steady boyfriend and I am similarly attached, but nothing permanent as yet. She was moving house and finding it a bit of a strain. ...

(story continues from The Seduction) Part 2 “But why not?!” “Because I said so.” Andi pouted. “You sound like Dad.” “And you sound like a whining child.” She reached out and took his hand. “Sorry, Uncle Phil, but that may have worked when I was six, not twenty-six.” Phil sighed. “Several reasons. For starters I wouldn’t be comfortable doing it. I never married, never had kids, don’t have all that baggage, but you’re still my niece. It would be too overtly sexual.” ...

I’ve left the back half of our property to grow back to nature, and is not much more than a weed patch. But the weeds have grown to over foot feet, and it is perfect for these outings. I have kept a six foot wide path leading from an old Box Elder tree on one side to a pine tree across the yard. It is here I go through my courses. ...

Dear readers. With my fifth book ‘A New Life’ finally published on Pink Flamingo publications (see the links) where you will also if you look, discover a few and different collection free short stories placed there for your entertainment. I thought it was once again time to place a few more short and varied stories on to the plaza, I hope that you enjoy the them. By the way and just so you know readers, feedback is always appreciated by all of the plaza’s authors, so many thanks to those that take the trouble to leave it. ...

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. ...

Author’s note: This story is part of my ‘Star Fleet Survey Service’ series. The first story is Field Survey. If you haven’t read any of the other Star Fleet stories these definitions will help:_ The Great Crash occurred when every computer in the galaxy simultaneously locked up because of a date-time bug in the operating system. This caused an economic, technological, and political collapse that plunged most of the inhabited worlds into chaos, but some managed to avoid this fate. These worlds formed a political union they called the Amalgamation, and as other planets recovered and became sufficiently advanced they were invited to join it. ...

Please visit my blog for Amanda’s Information/CG representation (under adult fiction) or to get the latest information about the new collectible card game Solo Bound Female at http://madhatter815.blogspot.com. Thank you. Continued from part one Part 2: Patience is the Key When last we left Amanda, she was naked with her wrists cuffed behind her back and her ankles similarly locked together. She recently discovered that her keys were outside; they were in her skirt pocket and now her skirt was drying in the warm summer breeze. To make matters worse, her spare keys were still in the trunk of her car which was inconveniently parked out in front of the house. What’s a girl to do? ...

continued from part one Part 2: The Voices Return The last time I indulged in some outdoor self-bondage, my planned two hour session was shanghaied by two trespassing women I referred to as Voice One and Voice Two (see Trespassed). They didn’t harm me, but my two hour session turned into thirty six hours of being teased and kept on the brink of cumming without being allowed any satisfaction. The two made use of my home freezer to re freeze my ice timer and then returned it to where I had placed it, so that a couple of hours after they had left the key fell into my hand and I was able to free myself. They left me a note inviting me to spend time with them again the next time I planned an “outdoor adventure”. ...

continued from part one Part Two At the end of the show I was wiped out and just wanted to go home, but that obviously wasn’t an option. My monolith and I were brought out to the loading dock and onto the same truck that brought me to the show, and my nurses set the rotisserie to rotate slowly on the drive back to the plant. We again had to stop off for the night because our driver couldn’t drive the whole distance in a single day, and I assumed both my nurses again spent the night with the lucky driver. ...

He watched through the sheer curtain as she removed her clothes, revealing her tanned body. Her physique was athletic and he could tell she must have devoted many hours to a local gym. She was a sight of beauty and he caught himself licking his lower lip at the sight of her. He had waited patiently for this night. He knew she was like him, that she had an insatiable hunger for this; more over she loved being watched as much as he loved watching. They both wanted, no, both needed more. ...

I’ve been into self-bondage since I was about ten years old. I really can’t recall what got me started, but my first memory of tying myself up is of having bound myself in a hog tie with ropes while lying naked on my closet floor. I was almost caught by my Mother, who opened the closet door so it was partly open and I could see her, but fortunately she didn’t see me. I can still remember the rush; a mixture of fear and excitement, that close call gave me. ...

After teasing Jackie about waiting for my turn in her kennel (see Ken’s Birthday Gift), she finally placed me in one! Gromet Fortunately the mysterious disease only seemed to effect the larger breeds, and not fatally either. Their skin would stink though, and they would scratch themselves raw trying to satisfy itches that wouldn’t go away. It was highly contagious, so much so that humans had unwittingly passed it from one dog to another with visits to the veterinarian in search of a cure. These were well loved dogs, and their owners would do almost anything to stop their suffering, and the center for disease control set up an automated facility to care for these dogs using the only method that looked successful. ...

Aaron slowed for the turn, glanced at his house, then at the park across the street. Maybe a few minutes by the lake would help him unwind. Lord knows the extra set of weights didn’t. But that extra set cost him twenty minutes and he had no time to spare. Christina would be home soon. He sighed, made the turn, and a second into his driveway. With any luck Christina would have plans, plans that would take his mind off of his job. ...

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. ...

You are lounging in your chair in front of the TV while I relax on the sofa reading a book, my feet resting on the ottoman. Every once in a while you glance over to see what I am doing. I am only wearing a collar (as instructed by my master) and a small apron. You smile indulgently at my forgetfulness. Earlier I was cooking dinner for us and I had forgotten to remove my apron afterwards. I look up at you, feeling your gaze on me, then look down at myself and my mouth forms an O. Your grin widens and your eyes grow more intense, waiting for me… I jump up quickly and remove my apron, stuttering my apologies. ...

It was a cool summers evening, a light breeze wafting the smell of barbequed meats and the sound of music through the air. I sipped my beer from the plastic cup as I wandered through a huddle of people. It was busy. At least thirty people had turned up for tonight’s barbeque. Several smaller barbeques were well underway, cooking burgers and hot dogs. But in the centre of the field, a large clay oven was slowly being put together, being prepared for tonight’s main event. I gazed at it for a while, watching the guys put it together and smirked to myself. I wandered back towards the other guests. I knew just a few of the people here and greeted and shook hands with as many as I recognised. Then I saw her. Just a quick glimpse, so I casually made my way through the crowd to get closer. It was definitely her. I drew closer, eager to speak to her. ...

I caressed Miriam’s shoulder gently and kissed her neck, then taking the duct tape I tore off a long strip. She glanced over her shoulder at me as I began to grin and she put her hands together behind her back. I wasted no time and quickly wrapped the tape around her wrists. She gasped as I wound another strip of the tough sticky tape, just above her elbows. Admiring her now helpless arms for just a moment, I pulled her back against myself and ran my hands across her flat stomach and up to her firm round young breasts. She gasped as I teased her nipple and quivered as I gave her firm pinch. She turned slowly in my grip and we kissed, a lingering kiss. ...

Four young college girls on a skiing vacation have to find other things to do when an excess of new snow traps them in their cabin. They find out things about themselves that they had only suspected before that week, but might change their lives forever. Part One Julie, Judy, and Joan had been friends since before kindergarten. When their mothers car pooled for school events, etc, they spoke of “picking up The Three J’s.” Teachers, and most of the community soon started referring to them as “The Three J’s.” In the fourth grade, Sara’s mother went to work for Julie’s mother as a cook and housekeeper, and since her mom lived in an apartment over the garage, Sara was added to the mix. After that, they became known to their parents, teachers and most of the community as “The Three J’s and an S.” ...

Kelly had always been popular with boys. Throughout high school and after, her 34C breasts, perfect waist, and striking features gave her constant attention and she loved it. It was no surprise, however, that she had few female friends – and none that she really loved. Kelly didn’t care, though. With the constant compliments and help with whatever she needed, she was perfectly content to have only guy friends. After high school, nothing changed. Her female coworkers always seemed to have something nasty to say about her and her male coworkers were quick to make her feel better. Her grades weren’t the best and she had decided to postpone college for a few years, so the best work she could find outside of a strip club (gross) was as a secretary at a nearby company that manufactured car wash equipment. ...

I could hear the mummer of hundreds of people near Marcus chemicals trade show display just on the other side of the partitions, and even though I was more deeply involved in it this year than I had intended, I couldn’t hide the excitement I felt knowing all of them, including our competitors, would be seeing me before the show ended… My name is Jessica and I have been employed with Marcus chemicals for seven years, first having worked in the front office as a charming receptionist, and then in the back office to learn sales and finance from the company owner Jim Marcus. Jim had plans for me, not that the hansom fifty year old wanted to share my bed or anything like that, it was just that he noticed I had a desire to achieve and could do well in the male dominated chemical business with my “natural sex appeal”. I was the only woman employed at Marcus, besides the front office receptionist that took my place when I got promoted, and as a result I felt very comfortable around all the guys, and they were apparently just as comfortable around me. I would enter the chemical batch plant often to see for myself how things worked, partially to be more knowledgeable than my male counterparts with our customers, and also just for fun to taunt the guys with sexual innuendo that would have earned all of us counseling at any other company. ...

(story continues from Sarak 2: Sarak learns about Ponygirls) Part 3: Sarak’s New Venture All the ponies had spent a restful night, all complete and safe within themselves and with their new master, whilst Sarak himself had slept a deep and eventful night, full of prancing ponygirls, and sexual dalliances. He woke in the morning, and after splashing water on his face, he again went in search of apples for the ponies, pausing on his way to relieve himself, and noticing that this morning his penis looked bigger than normal. Strange he thought, staring at himself as he urinated into the bushes, watching the steady flow coming from what was now a hardening of his shaft and a tightening of his scrotum. The last drops of urine were now being forced down the length of his penis, hard and straight out before him. Trying to ignore this fact he carried on to the apple trees with a huge bulge forced into his breaches, and there managed to collect enough apples to feed the ponygirls. ...

Please visit my blog for more story details or to get the latest information about the new collectible card game Solo Bound Female at http://madhatter815.blogspot.com. Thank you. Part 1: Rude Awakening Amanda hadn’t moved far from home since graduating college. Why would she? She could visit her parent’s townhouse whenever she liked whether it was just to say hi or to mooch off her mom with her home cooking. Either way, her childhood home easily trumped the tiny little studio she was renting right now. ...

Larry’s white Audi rolled up the driveway. He stepped out, walked around the front, headed for my back door. I met him half way. “Hey, Larry.” “Uh, uh hi, Julian.” Then came an uncomfortable silence. I let it stretch a bit. “Not what you were expecting, hm?” “What?” “Me and not Lady Di. I used her phone to text you. She’s waiting for you around back. Come on.” I led him down the drive and across the patio. ...

Larry’s white Audi rolled up the driveway. He stepped out, walked around the front, headed for my back door. I met him half way. “Hey, Larry.” “Uh, uh hi, Julian.” Then came an uncomfortable silence. I let it stretch a bit. “Not what you were expecting, hm?” “What?” “Me and not Lady Di. I used her phone to text you. She’s waiting for you around back. Come on.” I led him down the drive and across the patio. ...

(story continues from The Murderess) 8. TRANSFERED The four important women and Lord A conferred for some time. Then he spoke: “Good, Everything has been agreed. The convict Jane H. is transferred to my custody. She is now my slave-convict. The terms of the Agreement are these”. He turned in his chair, grabbed the chain Sally was holding and pulled me close to him. He shoved an impressive legal document into my hands. ...

Part 1: The Box of Doom Vera Purdee moaned, as she fingered her pussy. She had been a self-bondage enthusiast since her high school years, and she was finally finished setting up her project. If it worked as planned, it would be her biggest, most thrilling adventure yet! She had tied herself up even when she was still a kid, and as she hit puberty, she began to realize that the idea of being bound or otherwise helpless really turned her on. She was even lucky enough to find a boyfriend her sophomore year who was into bondage, but it just wasn’t the same. For some reason, she got the biggest kick out of self-bondage. Becoming helpless, entirely through her own actions. Or mistakes. She couldn’t really explain it, but it was just hit her buttons so much more than mundane bondage did. ...

The pink delivery van pulled up to the curb, the large FeD Ex logon in stark black on its side. “He’s here.” “Aw, Dad, do I have to?” “Mina we’ve been through this. Driving would take days and flying is too expensive.” “But, Dad-” “No, Mina.” “Mom?” “Honey, we all agreed.” The doorbell rang. “Hi. I’m Jeff. If you would just read and sign the form we can be on our way.” ...

Jan had been putting up with her back pain for a long time and although she was not sure how much good it would do she had made and appointment with a chiropractor. She now sat on the cold table, with nothing on but her panties and one of those silly gowns that had no sides and tied at each shoulder. They were nothing more than a big loin cloth and didn’t do a lot to cover her. The nurse who had led her to the tiny examining room had been less than friendly. She was a tall brunet who really didn’t seem to want to be working here. Jan was handed the gown, told to remove all her clothes and put it on and the was left alone to wait. ...

Just my luck, thought Alex, watching Jay’s car pull away. First chance we’ve had lately for a weekend of X-Box, and his back starts acting up. With a resigned shrug, he turned and entered the house. “Alex?” Pausing on the stairs, Alex glanced into the living room. “What’s up Joe?” “You might not want to go up there quite yet,” his brother said. “And why not?” “Well, Carly spent the weekend.” ...

Mary had been wearing the collar and wrist cuffs since she went to bed last night, as she found it easier to commit to a course of action when the ramifications were still a day off. Plus they often brought her interesting dreams. But now it was a new day and procrastinating would only make things worse. The padlocks were in place, assuring collar and cuffs would not be removed until she completed the program. The wrist cuffs could be cut off, as they were just leather, but at significant expense. The collar, on the other hand, was a heavy stainless steel model secured with a high security padlock. No tool she had access to would get that off without the key. Sooner or later, she would have to visit her personal trainer. ...

(story continues from William & Mary 2) Part 3 “How did this happen?” “I don’t know, Sir. All I can say for sure right now is that the locks weren’t opened with a key. From the interior scraping, I’d say they were picked.” “But if the locks were picked, why pry one of the plates loose?” “It wasn’t pried, Sir. From the minute deformations in the chain, ring, and lock, I’d say it was pulled loose. How, I have no idea. That would have taken a lot of strength.” ...

“It’s been way too long my old friend,” thought Alan, as he caressed the padded steel frame. It had been more than a month since he had been able to find time for a session. A combination of awkwardly timed shifts behind the hotel bar, and the hectic work leaving him over-tired meant that indulging his own passions was the last thing on his mind. After a while though, the itch to tie himself up became impossible to ignore. ...

Hi, my name is Jen. My friend Christine and I work together as massage therapists in a small holistic health center in northern New Jersey. I just turned 28 and Chrissy is 30. She’s the beautiful blonde bombshell and me, well, I am more the Plain Jane. Chrissy always tells me I should work at the book store. Anyway, we love our work and have always taken helping people very seriously. We have worked with elderly patients, young patients and sports injury patients. I confess that sometimes I let my emotions and my heart take over my brain. Here is one good example. ...

The blue marquis scrolled across the bottom of the TV screen. Severe winter weather warning in effect until 6.a.m. for the following counties … Annette grabbed the remote, thumbed over to the weather station. She had been following the storm track all day and was delighted when the first flakes fell a couple of hours ago. There was over an inch of the fluffy white stuff on the ground. Just enough to cover everything, creating a perfect, picture postcard setting. But there’s perfect and then there’s perfect. ...

Dinner was over. “Have some more wine,” she said, then let’s go have some fun." “OK, I said, “I’ll go up and get dressed”. “Ooh,” she called after me, “Put your hair up, and then put on that cute lace cami that ties at the shoulders. And the black mini with the g-string. That’s all you’ll need. Now I was wondering what she had in mind. She was right, though, because courtesy of twenty years of ballet, I’m the poster child for the boyish figure, and I only own one bra, appropriately from Barely There, which goes under flimsy tops if, say, I need to foil my lecherous dentist who likes to lean over me and say ‘open wide’. Right - in your dreams, Bicuspid Breath. ...

The desirable actress and her producer husband were traveling by yacht in the South Pacific, mostly to get away and forget her dismal performance in her last film. She had got into film many years ago as a teenager with stunning good looks, having been discovered by accident in a shopping mall, and rarely having to perform on the casting couch for a role. Since then she had worked hard at becoming more than a pretty face, but her looks forced her to be typecast as a dumb blond for the first part ofher career anyway. She never did any nude scenes, but she had to dress the part and her wardrobe always stopped just short of an adult rating. By the time she had a chance to actually act she was stuck with the predetermined notion that she was as dumb as most of the world thought she was, and her last film was a major flop because of that. She was angry at herself for taking the ill suited role, but more so with her husband for advising her to. She would now be considered a “poison pill” for any big screen work, and she didn’t even want to think about the small screen! To make matters worse, there was always a fresh supply of pretty young ladies to take her place, and they would do anything, literally ANY THING to land a role on the big screen. ...

A wife with a desire to become a mannequin gets her chance through the kind Professor Damien. For the umpteenth time Donna checks her watch, and finds herself way ahead of schedule; she sits back into her car seat and smiles demurely at the red light the hustle of the populace of the city crossing in front of her. “Almost there.” She muses allowing her mind and imagination run wild; her eyes locking on the front windows of a very pricy department store. The stiff plastic forms staring out at the world before them; wearing the wondrous fashions of the current trend. ...

My name is Jessie. I am five foot four inches tall, sandy blonde hair, and icy blue eyes. I am slightly overweight, but I have never had any complaints about that. I love bondage. The whole idea of giving up control to someone who knows how to push all the right buttons. There is no one to date who knows what they are doing. So I do for myself. My house, yes I own my home along with the bank, has a cool old stone basement. Lets just say its perfectly gloomy for a dungeon. The basement has several small rooms that were probably for cold storage of food many years ago. Now they are just empty cold rooms. The dirt floor is perfect. ...

Beckett read the note again and chuckled. Bxc6. He stepped over to the board, moved James’ bishop to c6, and removed his own piece. He smiled. “Walk into my parlour,” said the spider to the fly. Call it an affectation or nostalgia, a throwback to earlier, slower times, but he and James enjoyed their games of postal chess. Yes, it was expensive, but they were both in a position to afford the extra expense of this minor indulgence. ...

I had been in command of the forward garrison for only the last few weeks, having been rushed in with the sudden demise of my predecessor, a man infamous for his maltreatment of the neighboring tribes women. I was a distant cousin to the ruling Duke and in this aged castle with my new young wife because nobody else wanted this remote posting. Indeed if he had cared more about the region he would have committed more resources to it’s defense. The tribes in question obviously had a grievance with my predecessor and his men, and perhaps it was even justified, but their probing raids into the surrounding villages and the taking of some of the local women for their sport had to stop. ...

My girlfriend had started yet another fad diet and exercise program, part of which meant she’d go jogging every evening in the local woods. It was within walking distance but for some reason, she drove there. One evening, having barely seen her in what felt like a month, I decided to take matters into my own hands and have what I hoped would be fun for me, a surprise for her and an experience for us both. ...

Somewhere near Old Detroit, a program loaded into the Net: 314986970.ANGL. It was time to recapture subject 314-98-6970 for close examination and possible treatment. In what was once a suburb to the southwest of Detroit, Jackie of the Elm-Streeters poked through a pile of rubble, digging out old cookware. She was a Rat Bastard: A feral human, a mongrel with genes from five continents. In the summer heat, her clothing revealed much of her tan-brown skin, consisting as it did of salvaged cut-off shorts, a halter top to hold her more than ample breasts, and floppy sandals on her otherwise bare feet. Her black hair, cut short in what once was called a pageboy bob, had reddish highlights and framed a face with a generous mouth and dark eyes with just a hint of epicanthic fold. ...

The firmware modification Tanya wanted to perform on her Batsman 3000 Cleaning and Personal Care robot required that she attach a cable. This meant kneeling and crawling on the floor around the inert ‘bot, but it was no hardship to do so: The floor, at least in that room, was covered with a lush carpet, a pastel lavender in color and fur-like in texture. It caressed her bare legs and tiny feet as she struggled with the connection before finally managing to snap it into place. ...

(story continues from Jane’s Story 9: The Boat Ride) Part 10: Latex Dream Jane presented herself, naked, legs spread, her hands clasped behind her neck. The tattoo girl was there, the one from the restaurant. She was holding a foam brush and a paint can. It was latex. Jane didn’t know how she knew that, but she knew. The girl dipped the brush into the can, held it up for a moment, then drew a swath over Jane’s lips. She did it again just below Jane’s nose and another just above her chin. The stuff dried almost instantly and the girl repeated it, three stripes, and then three more. Jane’s lips were sealed - literally. They were no longer lips, plural, they had melded together. Jane knew she would never open her mouth again. ...

Author’s note: This story takes place in my ‘Star Fleet Survey Service’ universe, but does not involve the same characters. The first story in that series is ‘Field Survey’._ ————————————————– The interstellar liner Gropius was in hyperspace, and it would be for the next several days. Our destination was Zovia, an obscure solar system located on the very edge of Amalgamation space. I was getting off the ship there, and this interminable journey would finally be over. Right now, it was almost closing time here in the second-class lounge, and Sweet Su and her All-Girl Band, of which I am a member, were performing their final number. The sparse crowd of mostly drunks didn’t pay much attention until I stood up and began my clarinet solo. I’m a classically trained musician, and I combine technical skill with a passion for music, even the insipid pop music Su chooses for us. Apparently, this was noticed by even the most indifferent members of the audience, because they gave me a solid round of applause. Of course, this was dwarfed by the roar of approval that erupted when Mari, the band’s vocalist, stepped into the spotlight. ...

(story continues from A Witch for a Wife) Part 2: Inside Her Shoe It was about nine in the morning, about three and a half hours before April would get her lunch break. Like most women that wear heels, April’s feet were killing her. And like most women that wear heels would normally do, April at this point just wouldn’t do at all. April, although her feet were killing her, just simply decided to spare herself the humiliation. These shoes she had on her feet were not the “freshest” in the world. She knew that after a good while with them on, the smell would be rather repulsive. Since she was about to engage in a long meeting, she simply planned on keeping her feet inside of her shoes all the way. Though it might have been good for her… it was bad for her little hubby who was imprisoned inside of the left pump under her sweaty toes. ...

(story continues from Prey for your Life) Part Two Dahlia’s jaws clamped vise-like over Christina’s forearm. She cried out in shock and pain, while simultaneously feeling a sense of accomplishment. If her arm had not come up just then, those jaws would be locked onto her face or head, and that would not have been good at all. Resigned to the outcome of this match as she had been before entering this dance, Christina had not wanted a face bite. That was not part of her script. ...

(story continues from The Nude Marathoner 1: Seduction) Part Three:Initiation Suzie directed him into shower area, freed herself from his arm around her neck, and propelled him into one of a bank of roomy shower stalls with elegant sheet glass doors. As soon as he got into the stall, she took his shackled wrists and brought them up to a waiting stainless steel hook about eight feet from the tiled floor. Stretching to his full height to avoid strain on his shoulders, he watched her close a hasp on the hook and he realized that he was now locked to the wall with his arms up in the air until she let him down again. He tested his weight on the hook, and found that it would easily take his full mass in the event that he lost his balance. It also meant there was no way he was going to use force to rip it out to gain his freedom by choice. ...

A Halloween Special 2012 Tale “What are you doing!? Stop it! Stop it!” The pregnant woman rubbed her belly in that absent-minded way expecting mothers do. “I’m going to fulfill my ancestor’s legacy, thanks to you, professor - and the girl.” The girl lay naked on a wooded table. A large, glass jar, kind of an inverted tub, enclosed her. The room was straight out of Dr. Jeckyll’s laboratory with shelves of oddly-shaped jars full of strange-looking content. A flame flickered beneath a beaker. Bubbles rose through a spiral tube, green liquid dripped into a flask. There were no windows. The only sign of modernity was the fluorescent lamp hanging overhead. The professor, sensibly dressed in slacks and a pale green, fluffy sweater was fastened to the heavy wooden chair. A thick leather strap encircled her throat, another her chest, a third her waist. More straps secured her wrists and ankles. ...

A Halloween Special 2012 Tale It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before. But it’s always been incidental. Like when we’re in a dressing room at a store. Even when we went to the clothing-optional beach Jackie chickened out. And it was her idea to go! Okay, so there was a time, well twice really, back in school. We were in our pot phase and we were stoned and we decided to go skinny dipping in the school pool. Jack was a cheerleader (So was Jackie. That’s how they met.) and he spent more time in the gym than most of the jocks and he told us that even though the door was locked, all it would take was a twist and a pull and the door would pop open and it did. I don’t remember much except our giggling echoing off the walls made us giggle even more. ...

A Halloween Special 2012 Tale What better way to celebrate Halloween than at a pirate-themed party on an island that was rumored to be haunted? That was the theory. Claire’s problems began when she went to pick out a costume. The guys had it easy. There were lots of pirate costumes available. They could get anything from a historic pirate outfit to a Captain Jack Sparrow costume. There were a lot of pirate costumes available for girls, too but they were all “sexy pirate”. “Captain Hooker” was more like it. ...

“You guys are gonna love this.” Kyle glanced at his friend doubtfully. He was a great teammate, but his ideas sometimes caused more than a little trouble. Shrugging, he decided to go along, at least till he saw what he was in for. As usual, the three friends drew quite a bit of interest, which Kyle had learned to accept as a matter of course. Together, they’d become known in this small university town as Triple K. Kyle, Kurt, and Karl. Quarterback, halfback and wide receiver, respectively, and the main reason their small school seemed destined to make the playoffs this year. Which, in this town, made them celebrities of no small order. ...

For as long as I can remember I have always fantasized about given myself up completely naked, to a large snake and to imagine being slowly swallowed alive by a large reptile. It has of course been an impossible dream, but now with recent reports of larger then usual Pythons and Anacondas making their appearance in the everglades and remote areas of Florida, with sheep and goats and other livestock mysteriously disappearing, could my dream become reality? Brought into the region as pets, some snakes escaped and flourished in the warm sunshine and waters of this area. ...

The stag week was going better than expected. Ben, the guy a week from marriage, had been having a great time enjoying the last few days of freedom in Amsterdam. Even I had managed to put a little… incident between myself and his fiancé out of my mind, at least enough to build an image of someone carefree so not to let Ben get suspicious. All in all there were 5 of us and the week had been spent mainly drinking and briefly exploring the more seedy areas but on the last night Mark, the best man, had suggested visiting a kinkier club that he thought would give Ben a suitable send off into married life. I’d had one or two sessions of being loosely tied up but had never really got into it and considered myself fairly vanilla so I had no real idea what to expect from the night but was willing to give it my all in an effort to keep Ben happy. ...

Holly showered and put on her work clothes. It was a cross between milk maid and French maid. More the latter minus the lace trim and in brown instead of black. She pulled on her underwear and dark brown pantyhose. Over that she added the frilly, tan panties. They showed below the hem. The skirt was short enough for that - on purpose. She pulled on the special bra, the one with a plunging neckline because the dress barely covered her nipples. ...

This is a scenario I came up with and performed. So my relatives were out of the state for at least five days which means I had a chance to do some self bondage at their place. First I planned on locking all doors to the house, locking myself out nude. The key to the house was in a thicker ice block in the mail box out front where everyone can see me. So if I got there too quickly then I would have to wait increasing the chance for me to get caught. ...

She awoke early, listening to him softly snore beside her. Memories of last night flooding through her mind ensuring no more sleep would come. Silently she slipped from the bed and into the kitchen. She turned the coffee machine on and sat down to her first cup. She kept getting distracted, her fingers finding her most intimate places. She knew she had to do something about it. Quickly she gathered what she needed into a backpack and threw on a t-shirt and shorts. ...

continued from The Pool, The Orchard & the Pony As I pulled up in my car at my aunt Susan’s, I wondered what the afternoon had in store for me. Ever since Susan had tricked me into becoming her ponyboy, the previous summer, I had been to her house several times and, more often than, not, had to prance around the orchard in the nude while pulling Susan in a little cart behind me. But she had been quite kind, really; there had been no summons during the cold of winter. ...

Hello all I would like to share a true story about a recent experience that I had with a Dominant Female. I am a male 29 years old and very athletic and love bondage and some torture. I called and made the appointment with the Dom and told her exactly what I wanted done to me, and that there would be no safe word (I was not going to be released even if I wanted to be in the worst way). I also wanted to have each arm bound in a leather binder and have that attached to my thigh cuffs. I wanted to be extremely rigidly strapped to the table so that I would not be able to thrust or escape any of the bondage. Lastly I wanted to be milked with the Venus 2000 stroking machine past the point of orgasm (this is where the over sensitivity starts and let me tell you it is pure torture). I wanted to be milked several times until I was exhausted. ...

The campsite was dark. Only a handful of tents were in this field and they were all dark and silent. I sit in the entrance to our tent with the lights out watching the stars in the clear sky with only a cigarette for company. The temperature had dropped from the highs of the day and now dew was forming on the grass and my breath was clouding before me. ...

(story continues from New Mexico Training Session) Part 2: Remedial Work The week my wife had spent in New Mexico in slave training had been well worth the money. Upon our return to our home after the training, my wife/slave diligently performed her tasks: her person was flawlessly maintained as was the house, her service and attitude towards service was superb, and she took great care of all of my possessions. And her sexual performance was that of a hungry tigress, no matter the place, time or position, she was simply a perfect slave. For two months. ...

The girl sat, naked, beneath the bows of the enormous tree. The thick, amber sap flowed across her face, dripped from her nose and chin, glued her eyes, sealed her lips. Her golden breasts rose and fell slowly as she slept. “They’re gumming up the works - literally. Production at the mill has dropped ten percent. The guys in the field don’t see it. They’re too busy cutting, limbing, and skidding ’em.” ...

Author’s Note - As with most of my stories this is mostly true. Obviously I have taken some license as I was only the boyfriend in this encounter and had to rely on her telling and my imagination to write it. Enjoy. My idea was simple, I love being bound. I love being bound for long periods and feeling helpless. My boyfriend is very good at providing this but there is always a safe word, there is always that feeling, even though I know I won’t use it, that I can get out whenever I want. ...

The obstacle course My plan was to expose as much naked flesh as possible to the biting flies, mosquitoes, and any other insects for as long as it would take to get my escape completed. So first, the course: I took my hemp rope out to the backyard, to the trees. I tied one end to a small tree, ran it to a larger, second tree, then knotted it around the bottom of the trunk. I walked about 50 or 60 feet to a Box Elder tree, wrapped the rope around the trunk, knotted it, and tied it to another tree off to the side. This will be my track. Once in position, I would not be able to untie the rope, and release myself. I had taken two 6 foot 2x6’s, notched both on the ends with a 2 inch by 3 foot “slot”. I had also rigged a spring release to each of the slots to keep my legs in place, once I passed those springs. This notch will hold my ankles in place once I make it to the tree. I brought those boards out to the Box elder. I nailed them on edge to the trunk, got onto my knees, spreading my thighs, and marked about where my ankles would be. ...

continues from part ten Part 11: The Field of Peace There was nothing but light, bright and powerful, surrounding Quinn until she couldn’t see anything but the brilliant white around her. But it wasn’t painful to look at; in fact, it had a warmth to it that was soothing, and Quinn wondered if this was the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel that she had heard so much about. Then the light faded away. But as it went, something else came in its place: music. It wasn’t a heavenly choir, nor were there words, but it was the most soothing, relaxing music Quinn had ever heard. Then, in the blink of an eye, Quinn felt herself lying on something soft. Looking down, she was surprised to see that she was lying on what appeared to be a cloud. All around her were giant clouds, lit up in the colors of an unseen sunset. Was this heaven? It certainly felt like it; the air was filled with the most soothing peace Quinn could imagine, and the more she bathed in it, the more her cares and worries slipped away, until she felt as if she could just lie here forever, and be completely content, and at peace with herself. But then again, if this was heaven, where was her robes, wings, halo, and harp? She looked down at herself and found none of those things. She was naked, but she felt no shame at all. In fact, she was delighted to see that, although she was still in her fifties, there wasn’t a wrinkle or piece of saggy skin to be found, nor were there any of the scrapes or bruises she had acquired recently. Even her breasts were firm and perfect, jiggling ever so slightly as she swayed back and forth, watching them go. Looking over, she saw that she didn’t have to be naked, for her rubber body glove, trench coat, gloves, and boots were lying beside her, clean and fresh, as if they were brand new. She pulled them on, and was delighted to find out that they were more comfortable then ever, tight, slick, and hugging her body all over, yet without any folds or creases, as if a tailor had re-made them to fit her perfectly. There was no doubt in her mind now… this was indeed heaven. But as she looked around, there was no one else to be seen. Was she the only one here? There were footsteps in the distance. Looking ahead, Quinn watched as some of the clouds came together, forming a path as someone appeared, walking towards her. Exactly who it was, Quinn couldn’t tell, but the figure had no wings or robes, nor did it glow with a divine presence. As it got closer, she was surprised to see that the figure wasn’t even human at all. The figure was a velociraptor, tall, its skin dark, but not overly so. It walked with a human gait, its long tail swishing as it came towards her, yet there was no indication that it was interested in eating her. In fact, it seemed to have a smile on its face, which seemed impossible. Dinosaurs, Quinn remembered, didn’t have the ability to smile. Yet this one was. The raptor walked up to Quinn, and looked down at her. “Hello Quinn.” Quinn took a step back, caught off guard at the sight of a talking velociraptor. But the shock only lasted a moment, for the raptor crouched, so as to be at her level. There was a calm, reassuring smile upon its face, like the one a mother would give to a child. And its eyes… they were human eyes, full of life and personality, and not the dark, emotionless orbs of an animal. “Who are you?” Quinn asked, wondering if she had somehow ended up in dinosaur heaven. “I am the storyteller,” the raptor said. Surprised, Quinn said, “Then… you’re God?” The raptor shook his head. “Not in the manner that you’re thinking.” “But… you’re the storyteller Targonamey was talking about?” The raptor nodded. “Then… you created my world. And all the others, and… me.” The raptor nodded. “I did.” Standing face to face with her creator, Quinn felt as if she should fall to her knees and worship him, or something similar. Yet, he didn’t seem at all interested in being worshiped. Instead, he seemed delighted to see her, for he had an aura that was calm, reassuring, and pleasant to feel. “What happened?” Quinn asked, changing the subject. “To earth? To everything and everyone?” “It ended,” the raptor said simply. Quinn looked around. “Is this heaven?” “Not quite. It’s the waiting room, so to speak. And you will be the last one ever to walk through it.” Quinn looked around, slightly confused, but still smiling. “Then why do I feel so good? This certainly feels like heaven.” “Indeed. After all you, and all the others went through, I thought it was only fair to make things feel good.” The raptor stood, started to head back the way he came. “Come,” he said. “Walk with me.” Quinn gladly did so. Though taller, and with longer legs, the raptor went at a slow pace, easily allowing Quinn to keep up with him as they walked through the clouds, which kept forming the path in front of them as they walked. “You have many questions,” the raptor said after a moment. “The understatement of the year.” “What would you like to ask?” Quinn thought, unsure. Here she was, face to face with a being who had the power of a god, to create life, and to reshape reality as he saw fit. What to ask him? “So even though you’re not God, you’re the god of my universe, and all the others you created?” “In those words, yes.” “Then… are we still in a story?” “Oh yes.” Quinn frowned. “Then… if you’re a storyteller, and you’re with me in a story then… how does that even work?” “Try not to think about it too much,” the raptor said. “You’ll get a headache.” Taking his advice, Quinn turned her thoughts elsewhere. “So you created everything?” “In your universes, yes. Xesex, Driders, Targonamey, and all their worlds, I did create.” “And they’re gone now?” “The worlds are,” the raptor said. “But its inhabitants are not.” Quinn looked around, but there was no one else in sight. She also sensed that they were the only ones inside this place. “Was it you who stopped me?” Quinn asked. “On the pyramid?” The raptor nodded. “And the scroll… was that you as well?” The raptor nodded again. “I slipped it to Xesex.” “So you were essentially in control of everything, then?” “Mostly,” the raptor said. “I guided it, but I allowed you and the others to make your own choices, and your own actions.” Though she didn’t feel in the slightest bit angry, Quinn asked her next question without pondering how it would sound. “Well, next comes the big question… why’d you make such a horrible universe?” ...

continues from part three Part 4: The Cranes What a strange and curious place the world had become. Coming up to the banks of the Nile, Targonamey looked at the city across the river. It was Luxor, he was sure of it, for it had the feel of the city he had known long ago. Yet, the passage of time had rendered it larger then what he remembered. The builds were different, and all manner of metal and steel devices were clamped to the top of buildings and houses. What are those strange things? Naked, he calmly waded into the Nile, swam across, and emerged on the other side. As the dawn had yet to come, it was still dark, and nobody saw him as he made his way through the streets and alleys into the city. While he sought food, drink, and clothing, Targonamey was more curious at seeing the new devices and contraptions around him. Wandering into the streets, he found them to be mostly deserted, the city’s occupants asleep inside their homes. But there were a few cars driving around. It wasn’t long before heads began to turn in Targonamey’s direction, their occupants surprised at his nudity. Targonamey ignored them, instead focusing on the cars, wanting to know how they worked. A vehicle that moved faster then a chariot, with no horses, and could carry several people at once was an astonishing contraption. Even more curious was the vehicle that came up to him, with flashing lights on top of it. Puzzled, Targonamey walked over, looking at them. These were not candles, or the reflection of mirrors, but actual lights that suddenly appeared. Fascinating! Two men got out of the car and started talking quickly at him. “I require clothing and food,“ Targonamey said. The two didn’t seem to understand him. They were looking at each other, as if unable to decipher what he had said. “Did you not hear me?“ Targonamey asked. “I require food and clothing.“ Shrugging their shoulders, the two came towards Targonamey. Their body language suggested that they weren’t all friendly. But Targonamey wasn’t worried; he could fix that. A quick wave of his hands, and a muttering of an ancient spell, and the two men stopped. Their faces became blank, and slightly blissful. It was an old trick he was fond of: Dominating the wills of lesser individuals, bending them to his will. “You will take me to your headquarters,“ he said. The two men got back in the vehicle, opening the back. Targonamey got in, and then they were off. As fascinating as it had been to look the vehicle over, to ride inside it was even more exciting. The seats were amazingly comfortable, and there were these strange belts that one apparently wore across the waist. The ride came to an end, and they stopped outside a huge building, brightly lit, and with the words, “Police Department" written across the front. Targonamey didn’t understand them, but he guessed that this was the headquarters of local law enforcement. As he was let out and led inside, Targonamey told his guides to give him clothes. Even though they couldn’t understand Targonamey’s words, they still led him through the building, the three ignoring the curious stares of other officers. They reached a dressing room, where Targonamey went through several lockers and boxes, going through the strange styles of clothing inside. There wasn’t much to pick from, and eventually he had to satisfy himself with a strange pair of pants, and a shirt. Clumsy, and nowhere near fitting a great man such as himself, but they would do for now. Dressed, he needed food, but sensed that this wasn’t the place for it. “You will remain here, and forget everything that just happened,“ he told the officers. When that was done, he turned and made his way out, ignoring those who watched him go. They were of no consequence to him, at least for now. Now back out on the streets once again, Targonamey made his way through them, seeking food. Most buildings were closed at this late hour, but he smelled the aroma of fresh bread coming from close by. Following his nose, he found the establishment, was pleased to see that it was stocked full of food. After casting a charm to control the owner, Targonamey took some of the bread and gorged himself on it, delighted at the taste of food, at being able enjoy it after so many centuries. It was a treat he had missed. He could have stayed and eaten the food, to fill himself and sample all the dishes he didn’t recognize or understand, but there were more important things to do. Food could wait, and he had to set his priorities. Now, there were only two things he needed. Leaving the building, he went out into the street, and cast several charms, feeling, focusing his powers out into the night. He could sense the presence of magical objects nearby, and walked in their direction. His walk led him to a large museum, which had been fashioned to resemble a temple from ages past. Having seen many of those temples himself, Targonamey was amused at this reproduction. While nowhere near as vibrant or colorful as he remembered, it was still charming, like a child trying to do an intimidation of a parent’s painting. Going to the gates, he found the building to be closed. But that was no matter for him. Another charm, and the gates were unlocked. But as he entered, Targonamey heard an annoying squealing sound that was loud, and repeated itself endlessly. Unable to find its source, he was unable to use his magic to stop it, and thus had to continue on, trying to ignore it. Besides, there were more important matters at hand, he could sense the presence of the magical items. Going down two levels, he found them at last, in a section housing ancient artifacts and tokens of power and rank. They were all beautiful, and a few Targonamey even recognized, having held, but his attention was focused on a tall staff that was within a glass case. It was the most powerful object in the room, and even in the entire museum. Walking up, Targonamey punched through the glass, grabbing hold of the staff. It seemed to surge with energy as his fingers wrapped around it, as if an internal battery, long dormant, had suddenly sprung to life. Targonamey was pleased at this, while the staff wasn’t as powerful as he would have liked, it would serve its purpose, and allow him to cast his magic more efficiently. There was the sound of running in the levels above. Most likely the guards of this place, coming to stop him. Targonamey smiled. Perfect. They came into the chamber, carrying strange black things, all pointed at him. Targonamey didn’t know what they were, but deduced that they were weapons of some kind. As expected, the guards began yelling at him. Their words were gibberish to Targonamey, but the meaning was clear. They wanted him to drop the staff and surrender. It was an easy matter to cast his charms, and send the weapons flying across the room. The men were stunned, obviously not used to seeing magic. Drawing their knives, they charged, but a sonic blast from the staff sent them slamming into the walls and display cases, knocking most of them out cold. One remained conscious, and Targonamey went to him, kneeling and placing his hand on the man’s skull, chanting more words. He would be at a bigger advantage if he learned the language of the people, so as to better order them around. ...

The gauge was heading toward E, so I took the exit. The white Honda stopped at the top of the ramp. Sat there. I was about to lean on the horn when a woman got out of the passenger side, hefted a backpack, and crossed the street to the on ramp. She stuck out her thumb. I had a decision to make. I’d have about ten minutes if I decided to go for it. ...

It had been a long week. Work had been mentally draining and I was glad to be heading home. After a three-day jury trial, three depositions and four new cases to absorb, I was ready for a cold beer and sole possession of the remote control. But as I sped through the dark, rain-slicked streets, Mistress Mary was hatching other plans. Stepping onto the cool marble tile of the foyer, I found my wife waiting for me wearing a tiny black cocktail dress, black seamed stockings and high-heeled fuck-me pumps. In her right hand she held a glass of red wine, and in her left a studded leather dog collar dangled from a length of chain. I froze in my tracks when I saw her there, especially since I’d just noticed the glint in her eyes. ...

(story continues from Shifting Roles) Part Two I was thoroughly uncomfortable and cramped by the time she returned. My straining erection had long since subsided and all I wanted was to be untied. I grumbled and struggled petulantly as she opened the cupboard door. I could sense her annoyance at that and before I knew it she had forced me to my stomach and was spanking me again, this time harder than before. She seemed to be growing into her role more as the day went on. She had not taken off her gloves and the taut leather covering on her palm added something as she spanked me harder and harder, my stifled panting and muffled groans as she punished me was amplified in the enclosed space. ...

I had a fantacy of being caught naked tied up but never got to do it. I was determed to do it some time. My neighhour asked me to take her to town the next morning and I had a plan. I wanted to cuff myself helplessly and wait for her to catch me locked up. I waited till early morning, got the cuffs ready and sent her a text telling her to come in and see me when she was ready. ...

I. The Pool It was the week of Spring Break and my parents had taken my “sister”, Karen, to visit some potential colleges. Karen was the daughter of people who traveled abroad a lot, and so they’d asked the family to take her in so she could stay with her school and friends. That had been three years earlier, and their visits were infrequent and brief. But all that is another story. ...

Dave rolled over in bed, blinking uncertainly. It was dark in the room, and he looked about in confusion. Then he heard a sound again, and he realized it must have been what woke him. He couldn’t immediately figure out what the sound was, and glanced over at his clock. It was just past 3:30 in the morning. He started kicking off the sheets to use the bathroom as long as he was awake, when he heard the sound again. Alert enough to pinpoint the location, he climbed out of bed and moved to the window. It had sounded like something had just bounced off… ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life will result in injury or death. Dave rolled over in bed, blinking uncertainly. It was dark in the room, and he looked about in confusion. Then he heard a sound again, and he realized it must have been what woke him. He couldn’t immediately figure out what the sound was, and glanced over at his clock. It was just past 3:30 in the morning. He started kicking off the sheets to use the bathroom as long as he was awake, when he heard the sound again. Alert enough to pinpoint the location, he climbed out of bed and moved to the window. It had sounded like something had just bounced off… ...

continuation from Waxing Moon Leah put her hair up in a bun and Ken tugged the rubber bathing cap over her head. He pulled Leah’s wrists behind her back, tied them palm to palm. He wrapped rope around her elbows and cinched it tight. The effect was to thrust Leah’s ample tits out even further. An image flashed into her mind of her bending over a pot of hot wax and dipping her tits into it. Maybe they could start an adult wax dipping business. Wax tits? Wax cock? The thought made her giggle. ...

(story continues from A Matter of Trust) Part Two Lying naked and helpless in the trunk of her own car, Maria struggled fitfully against her bonds, all the while knowing her struggles were useless. The leather cuffs encircling her wrists and ankles were securely connected, allowing her very limited movement. The gag filling her mouth limited her to unintelligible grunts. The blindfold covering her eyes blocked all sight, which didn’t really matter at the moment, considering she wouldn’t have been able to see in this dark place anyway. ...

“Such a beautiful canvas of stars” She said, her head tilted back as far as it could go in the folding camp chair. He murmured his agreement, looking not at the stars, but at her. He was glad to be here and she was equally glad to have him. The fact was, he was hers. That is what suited them both best. Nights like these are when they really felt alive. A cool drink, a warm, comfortable fire, the music of the night creatures, solitude and each other, it really didn’t get better than this. ...

(story continues from Five Senses) Part 2: Tuesday 5pm As I mentioned in part one my next meeting was Tuesday 5pm and that time was fast approaching. I made all my preparations shaving and showering and using my Masters’ favourite perfume. I made my way to the car and put the key in the ignition and began driving to house. The traffic was nice and light and I arrived just at the right time. I rang the doorbell and was let in and went straight into the dressing room. Empty? What was happening? No toys to insert…. no catsuit to sliver into and no shoes. I saw the note on the wall at my station. “Nothing to be worn today”. I couldn’t begin imagining what was planned for today, but remembered that the invite said not to make any plans for Wednesday. I stripped off my day clothes and waited for the dungeon door to be opened. ...

It happened that I was assisting a friend in rehabbing a local rental property she had bought recently. I’m no great shakes as a workman, but I could periodically check in and send her updates on the status of the work. The house was a duplex, with flats on the first and second floors. It also had a delightfully dark and dingy old-fashioned basement, which was last on the schedule of things to be upgraded. The space had been divided into a number of small (cell-like!) rooms with concrete block walls. One, a windowless room in the center of the north wall, had been fitted with a cage like door, a welded steel framework with a grille of heavy mesh. There was a latch only on the outside, although an opening in the mesh allowed it to be opened from the inside as well. There was also a hasp for a padlock that could be accessed the same way. I had plans for this room. ...

(story continues from Kitten’s Story Part 10: Punished) Part 11: Pet Girl You manage an embarrassed smile as you curl up in the basket and he covers you with the fleece blanket gently stroking your hair for a moment before fastening a long leash to your collar, you watch as he runs the leash over to one of the old wooden pillars forming the stable you lie in, he uses a small padlock to secure the leash and smiles at you, even if you wanted to go somewhere he had now ensured you would be staying within a couple of meters of your makeshift kennel. Exhausted after what he had put you through after a day’s work you manage to drift off to sleep curled up under in your basket in the cool night air. ...

I was in a self-bondage chat room some time ago, and the topic came up, of using clothespin zippers in a scene. I couldn’t hang around very long, and didn’t get too many suggestions but it started me thinking, and I think I have found one way. I was going to have the entire day to myself one Saturday, so I planned on attempting it then. On Friday, I bought 6 brand new, 18" bungee cords, 2 -3" steel rings, and 3 pair of leather boot laces. I have plenty of clothespins, so no need to buy any more. ...

Why do I do this to myself? It is not the warmest night, I would be quite happy at home on the sofa with a bottle of wine and a movie so why am I here putting myself through these torments? I’ll tell you why, as much as I try to fight it, as much as I would rather be snug and warm, I love the idea of what I am about to put myself through. The risk, the tension and the adventure. They all do things to me that I wouldn’t change for the world. ...

I’m just coming out of my bedroom when I nearly collide with Mila. “Hey, cousin.” “Hi.” She’s dressed for work, or more accurately mostly undressed for work with a short, black silk robe over nothing. She heads into the bathroom. Mila isn’t my cousin, neither is Kim - I’m pretty sure of that - just like “Auntie” isn’t my aunt. The girls are twins even though their papers have them at different ages. All the girls lie about their age depending on circumstances. The sixteen year olds pass themselves off as twelve or, if the authorities come snooping, then they’re twenty. When they came here they were officially sixteen and seventeen, sixteen being the minimum age to work in a brothel. Although that’s being changed to eighteen, and they’re both legally eighteen, so there you go. I have no idea how old they are, but I’m thinking twenties passing themselves off as teenagers. Mom’s thirty-six, but you’d never know it. ...

I was a couple of miles upstream and another couple inland. There are several overgrown dirt tracks back here in the woods. When they put the highway through about thirty years ago it cut off access, which is fine by me - miles from anywhere and the whole place to myself. Perfect for my morning nature walk. I got skunked again, didn’t see much to shoot, but I took a few shots anyway. Two days ago I came upon a fox. Critter just sat there like a house dog watching me watch him. I walked slowly toward him, firing away. Unfortunately I had my little pocket rocket of a camera, which means it was slow to focus and slower to save the shots, but I got a few keepers. ...

I was a couple of miles upstream and another couple inland. There are several overgrown dirt tracks back here in the woods. When they put the highway through about thirty years ago it cut off access, which is fine by me - miles from anywhere and the whole place to myself. Perfect for my morning nature walk. I got skunked again, didn’t see much to shoot, but I took a few shots anyway. Two days ago I came upon a fox. Critter just sat there like a house dog watching me watch him. I walked slowly toward him, firing away. Unfortunately I had my little pocket rocket of a camera, which means it was slow to focus and slower to save the shots, but I got a few keepers. ...

A true story from Nakeddreamer. ( I am a male.) I had always been interested in bondage and selfbondage. Then one day I was looking at Gromet’s site and read a story about someone being buried. This really got my juices flowing. After seeing this story, it was all I could think about day after day. It was driving me crazy, so I decided that I would have to experience this for myself. ...

A true story from Nakeddreamer. ( I am a male.) I had always been interested in bondage and selfbondage. Then one day I was looking at Gromet’s site and read a story about someone being buried. This really got my juices flowing. After seeing this story, it was all I could think about day after day. It was driving me crazy, so I decided that I would have to experience this for myself. ...

I had a fantasy of being kidnapped by my ex-wife for a while. She had a slim sexy body and naughty cute nature sometimes. She would sometimes stay with me but sleep in the spare room. It happened she found my handcuffs in my bed cuboard while I was at work. She sent me a text asking me about the cuffs. I explained to her I like to sometimes cuff myself to the bed for fun, I want you cuff me some time. She replied ‘yes I might do that, never knew you were into cuffs you should have told me’. ...

“I’m glad we got to spend some time together” she said “Even though it is never enough.” She waited to hear him say something that resembled agreement. They got out of her car to enjoy one more hug before he must leave. He held her close, kissing the top of her head, since he was so very tall. “I’ll miss you” he said sadly. “Oh, you will not miss me as much as you think” she laughed. ...

This is my story, only you the readers can judge its merit; as for me I remain as described for my lifetime. Annon My life had fallen apart last year; my husband of nearly ten years had walked out on me leaving me alone in the world’s tiniest village. We had one church and two pubs and about a hundred houses. Mostly filled with older residents who had lived in the village forever. We were listed in the dooms-day book and nothing new had happened since then. ...

Mandy glanced at the dash. 108 miles per hour. She clenched her fists in her lap. Eddie reached the metal travel cup from its holder, took a gulp, then another. He handed the cup to Mandy. She didn’t drink vodka and certainly not at nine in the morning, but she took a sip. When Eddie wanted you to do something you did it. Not that Eddie treated her badly. She was his girl, number two in the pecking order at the club. Number one was Jessica, Paul’s girl. She and Jess were allowed to keep half their tips. The other girls pooled theirs and split them equally … after the brothers pulled out the tax money and a bit for themselves of course. Life with Eddie was pretty good. Though, truth be told, he had a dark side. Mandy had never witnessed anything, but her intuition told her that nobody fucked with Eddie Lipkin. If you’d told her that as a boy he liked to pull the wings off flies, well, it wouldn’t surprise her. ...

I have a long weekend off, the wife is gone, for the same, and so, I have planned a day of self bondage. I have never tried the ant theme, so this weekend will be my first. I will use our dog pen as my place. We no longer have the dogs, but when we did, I built a 10 x 12 chain link pen. I had to cover the outside with privacy fencing because the dogs would bark at anything. So, now, it is completely secluded, and far enough in the back yard to pose no threats from neighbors. Either from sound or visual. I plan on not only the self bondage, with the ant attack, but also anal pleasure/torment, and increasing weights to my balls. ...

this followed on from the Miles stories Susan’s plan for the evening was simply to watch some TV. Well, it wasn’t quite as simple as that because lately Susan rarely did anything as mundane as watching TV without adding something to the experience. So what she added this time was a hogtie. She lay quietly on the floor in front of her couch, dressed in a pair of shorts and a sports bra, with her hands and feet chained together and connected behind her back. It wasn’t a tight hogtie, just a rather comfortable one, and she had been like this for a couple of hours by the time her phone rang. ...

I knew that I should have left the house sooner but didn’t count on my neighbor, Tina, stopping by for a “short visit.” She just kept talking, no matter how many times I told her that I had to go! Now I’m stuck in traffic on the highway and I don’t want to miss your train. You’ve been away on business for months and I can’t be late. I am gripping the wheel frantically, as my fingernails dig into my palms, ...

Pat was 50 but didn’t show it because of the transformation when she was turned into the spider woman that she was. She was well endowed and looked like a 30 year old, gorgeous from her head to her toes, her flowing red hair replaced the graying dull red she had when she was looking her age. Her tits were large and firm with firm nipples and her vagina was smooth and barren, she was a gorgeous redhead that looked 30. She loved the fact that she had her looks back, that with her actual years of experience chasing men, all those years paid off by allowing her to pursue and catch her prey with relative ease. She always wore a mink coat over her nude form to hide the extra arms and legs from her intended prey. It wasn’t until caught in her embrace that her true form was found out but by then her prey had been subdued. ...

Pat was 50 but didn’t show it because of the transformation when she was turned into the spider woman that she was. She was well endowed and looked like a 30 year old, gorgeous from her head to her toes, her flowing red hair replaced the graying dull red she had when she was looking her age. Her tits were large and firm with firm nipples and her vagina was smooth and barren, she was a gorgeous redhead that looked 30. She loved the fact that she had her looks back, that with her actual years of experience chasing men, all those years paid off by allowing her to pursue and catch her prey with relative ease. She always wore a mink coat over her nude form to hide the extra arms and legs from her intended prey. It wasn’t until caught in her embrace that her true form was found out but by then her prey had been subdued. ...

“Can I bury you?” Asked Jim. “Bury me? Why? Shouldn’t I be dead first?” Mary shot back, looking a little confused. He laughed. “No, not all the way, just up to your neck, it could be a lot of fun.” She looked at him like he was crazy. She then replied. “Do you mean like in that movie the other night, like in ‘CreepShow’? Because it didn’t look like they were having a whole lot of fun in the movie” ...

“Can I bury you?” Asked Jim. “Bury me? Why? Shouldn’t I be dead first?” Mary shot back, looking a little confused. He laughed. “No, not all the way, just up to your neck, it could be a lot of fun.” She looked at him like he was crazy. She then replied. “Do you mean like in that movie the other night, like in ‘CreepShow’? Because it didn’t look like they were having a whole lot of fun in the movie” ...

Susan and I have a great marriage: fun, friendship, and the sex is fantastic. We also have Janie. Janie’s been a good friend of Susan’s since before I met them, and she’s our playmate, because sometimes three really is better than two. Susan recently had a little business trip planned, going upstate by bus for a couple of days. We figured it might be a good time to try out an objectification fantasy Janie had confided to us once. ...

“I’d like to take you home and get you plastered.” Jan barked out a laugh. Henry you don’t have to get me drunk to have your way with me. True, they hadn’t slept together, but they were at that point and tonight was as good as any. Besides work had been hell and she hadn’t tied one on in a long time. Still, if she was going to have sex she’d like to remember it. ...

continued from part one Part Two “Ok, looks good. Fan out in pairs and get started. I’ll watch for sentries.” Nodding, the others fanned out silently. Watching them go, Melissa Roberts sighed with relief. On her first, nearly disastrous, trip to Egypt’s past, she’d come alone. This time, she’d brought a team. This meant support, even if it did require a certain loss of modesty. Glancing down at herself, Melissa shook her head ruefully. In the interest of speed and security, it had been decided to send the team together all at once. With such a large send, the power demand was very nearly at the limits of the system, so in order to reduce demand, the team had been allowed nothing that would increase the mass of the send. Unfortunately, this included clothing. Basically, the entire team had arrived at their destination totally naked. ...

Ellie burst from Hendrson’s office, cheeks red, tears welling up. The blonde girl who had been peering into a mirror turned and stepped in front of her. “Buy a vowel, get a clue. You are out of your league. You can’t beat me. Why don’t you go back to the bayou where you belong, marry your cousin, make babies.” Ellie brushed past her and pushed through the door. “Shauna?” Henderson gestured to her. ...

SM Ackerman is the author of several bondage & DiD stories to be found on Amazon & Pink Flamingo, check them out online. My name is Louisa and I have hated being called that since I was very little, so everyone calls me Lou. I am twenty-three years old, five-foot-nine, and at school I was called string-bean, the reason I am sure is obvious and I don’t intend to go into more detail than that. My sister who is four years younger than I am insisted that I write this story, so that the whole world would know what a bitch I was to her on that fateful day so many years ago. ...

The shadow emerged from the dark underbrush. Cheryl yelped. It was a man, naked with a bizarre headdress - a wooden mask that covered most of his face and a mass of straw that hung down past his shoulders. He wasn’t totally naked. His penis was wrapped in some kind of vegetation. It stood straight out and bobbed obscenely as he approached. Cheryl took a step back, then another. A third brought her up short as she bumped against a second man. He grabbed her. ...

She waits in anticipation for him to enter the room. Her heart beating faster she feels small beads of sweat trickle down her naked body and evaporate at her feet. The excitement and fear almost overcomes her as she stands spread-eagle against the wall, but she stays firm in her stature fighting the butterflies in her stomach. Her jaw aches as the ball gag she is wearing fills her mouth and cuts into the corners of her lips. She is fighting off the pain, the stiffness, the worry about her punishment to come, not knowing her Master is watching her through the window and taking her image in. ...

(story continues from Voodoo) Part Four Alone in the room, she gazed out the window, watching the people outside. Through the headphones covering her ears, she could hear the music, as well as the sound of conversation. She wished she could join them, move among them, talk to them. Instead, she stood stiffly, the rise and fall of her breasts with her labored breathing the only visible movement, other than the occasional twitch. ...

It was a match made in heaven. Or, in this case, Hollywood. Shawn was tall, handsome, muscular, with starring roles in nearly a dozen action films to his credit. Stacy was almost universally considered the most beautiful woman on film. After their first pairing, the two quickly became inseparable, starring together in one blockbuster after another. Their off camera chemistry was just as intense, with rumors of marriage making regular rounds. As a couple, it seemed they had it all. Until…… ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = I found this story on an old backup disk that I was checking for content before destroying. MANY years ago while I was in college, I got into a “discussion” with an English major about writing - specifically writing porn. Since I wasn’t an English major, Darlene said that I couldn’t possibly understand how to create a good erotic story. After bickering back and forth for most of a semester we came up with a contest and wager that would prove which of us could write better erotic fiction. The plan was simple. Each of us would write a “letter to the editor” format story and the one that got published was the winner. A further requirement was that each of us would write the story in the other’s name. I would write as though I were a woman, and she would write as though she were a man. ...

Karla called from downstairs at 4:00 to announce the arrival of my guest. I told her to send him up and quickly went down my mental checklist. Everything was ready, so I ran a comb through my hair one more time, swallowed my nervousness, and moved myself into Dom mode. I took a few deep breaths, and the knock came. I opened up and let him in. My goodness, I thought. Heʼs a big one. About my height but at least a hundred pounds heavier. And quite a bit younger. ...

“Ken, where do we get our wax?” “Who wants to know?” I knew who wanted to know - the MILF. I had seen her walk by, knew she’d taken a spot on the side. And, sure enough, Sam pointed at the blonde with the green dress. “I’ll take care of it.” Three visits in three weeks and no kid this time. I had her number at a glance. She wore a ring, but not a wedding ring, she had a kid about ten years old (a girl), which put her in the thirties, and there was no evidence of a man. ...

(story continues from Differences) Part 2 “That will be all, Bobby.” “Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress. Same time next week, Mistress?” “Make an appointment with the receptionist. When she‘s finished with you, tell her I want to see her in my office.” “Yes, Mistress. Good day, Mistress.” Jewel watched as her latest client moved toward the door. To the outside world, he was Robert Sykes III, owner and CEO of a major corporation. In this room, he was simply Bobby. He was one of her oldest clients, and paid quite well for her services. ...

“Catherine!” Her husband Paul’s shout woke her from her fantasy. It wasn’t just a shout, he was yelling at the top of his lung’s. She thought it sounded like he was furious, she knew he was on his way to the bin. He was going to drag her out and she was going to be in big trouble, but she couldn’t help it. She loved to get naked, climb in and writhe around in the trash. She loved the way it felt against her skin, made her dirty and made her feel dirty. Usually she’d play for a couple of hour’s, she’d be trash until she was hot and horny. She’d bring herself to a climax before Paul got home from work, she’d be out and showered before he’d even know. He’d caught her a few times before, when she’d lost track of time. He was home early today and she was about to get caught again. ...

She looked out at the blasted landscape before her. Huge shadows moved in the valleys below, cloaked in twilight, and perhaps something else. Inhuman cries drifted into the air alongside faint sounds of rending and smashing. “I… I can’t believe it’s all gone,” she said to the quiet, robed form beside her. “After all the eons of waiting, the stars were right. Promises long-made have been kept,” it grunted. “Your bargain with us was well-advised; some members of the human race will survive. Now, we honor our side of the arrangement.” ...

Christ, it must be Tuesday. I thought to myself as I felt Charmaine slide out of bed. She always thought that she was being so discreet, but I always noticed. I lifted myself onto my elbows and blinked a few times to clear my groggy vision. I looked at the clock, Six fifteen, bang on time as usual. The bin men had woken her up and I looked to the bedroom window to see her, as I expected gazing out of the window. ...

Lake Diodati, Switzerland, June 1816 Mary Shelley stood on the shore of Lake Diodati looking up at the sky. The setting sun was casting an orange light on the low clouds, highlighting cotton like layers. Silhouetted against them were little wisps of cloud blown by the cold wind that chilled her. Part of the sky was still a light blue with tinges of white while overhead it was turning into a deep blue heralding twilight. ...

Got the inspiration for this story here: muddypinays.com - If you like Asians (yeah) and if you like them in mud, or better yet, sinking in a peat bog (hell yeah!) then you’ll like the site. “Never seen nothin’ like it. Gotta be thirty feet tall with a big ass antenna on top and a bunch of little ones scattered all over it.” “Ham radio?” “I figured that with the bigun, but the little ones? And I asked him about it, you know, chatty like while I fixed his furnace. He said it was a hobby, but he said it in a way that told me I shouldn’t be askin’ after it.” ...

Got the inspiration for this story here: muddypinays.com - If you like Asians (yeah) and if you like them in mud, or better yet, sinking in a peat bog (hell yeah!) then you’ll like the site. “Never seen nothin’ like it. Gotta be thirty feet tall with a big ass antenna on top and a bunch of little ones scattered all over it.” “Ham radio?” “I figured that with the bigun, but the little ones? And I asked him about it, you know, chatty like while I fixed his furnace. He said it was a hobby, but he said it in a way that told me I shouldn’t be askin’ after it.” ...

( AUTHOR’S NOTE: ) No animal was actually hurt in the filming of this motion picture. – Except for a wild squirrel that dashed out in front of the Craft Services truck as it was on a run for Pizza and Beer for the Producer’s Party. The driver has denied all responsibility for the accident. The squirrel was smashed flat and was unavailable for comment. Edited by Proof Reader. · · · ...

“Now just lay there and relax, you’re going to love this next one.” Carla told her bound submissive Janice. Janice was tied up so that her legs and ankles were pinned together and her hands were resting on her belly. Aside from the rope that was holding Janice in place on the table Janice wore nothing at all. Carla was also mostly nude but wore leather thigh-high boots and elbow length gloves. Carla’s snake Voldemort was winding it’s way into the bedroom and Carla wanted to place him on top of Janice’s waiting body. Janice loved snakes and Carla wanted to tease her slave by allowing Voldemort to slither back and forth across her body. She knew her slave would go wild with lust at the feeling of a ten foot python moving along her soft skin. ...

“Where have you been?” Stacey Burke hardly paused as she swept through the living room. “Oh,” she said offhandedly, “you know, out.” Jason Walker frowned. “Out on another of your road trips, I’d say, judging from the way you’re dressed.” Stacey glanced down at her skin tight, electric blue shorts and skimpy blue halter. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed? It covers the essentials.” “Barely. And only if you don’t move.” ...

continued from Meeting Strand After my first meeting with Strand I was busy with business and family and we were unable to get together again for several days. Finally we set a date for the day before I was to go home. At the appointed time, he arrived back at my suite. “Okay, Max,” he said. “Iʼve got an idea. I think we might like to try something I call mutual self-bondage. ...

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Over the years, I’ve read about, heard about, and experienced a rather strange phenomena. Many stories about submission include mention of increased sensitivity on the part of the submissive. In my own personal experiences with submissives, I’ve often seen the same thing. But I have yet to see, hear, or read about anyone explaining how this could happen. This story is my attempt to explain my own theory on the matter. ...

continued from Another Date with Strand Strand came out to visit me the summer after my trip east. Ostensibly we were going to do some fishing. In actuality, if either of us got a line wet it would be a major surprise. I met him at the Amtrak station twenty miles from my property, we claimed his luggage, loaded it into my old GMC, and started up the two lane into the hills. ...

When I was a young runaway I spent a summer working at The Duke Hotel in San Franciscoʼs Tenderloin district. The hotel had new owners and they needed help. I was given a small apartment and twenty dollars a week in exchange for painting, cleaning, occasional shifts at the front desk, and various other duties. The hotelʼs clients were a varied lot including winos, hookers of both sexes, drug addicts and other assorted societal rejects. The manager was an ex-pimp named Mel. He was assisted by Karen who I assumed was an ex-working girl and by his younger brother Mike. ...

My sister was coming over for dinner and my boyfriend was just being a huge pain in the ass. I am trying to cook and he is trying to touch and kiss me. The moron couldn’t see I was busy. I finally had had enough of his infantile behavior. I wasn’t going to have him ruin a pleasant dinner with me and my sister, so I decided to teach him not to pester me, then get rid of him for the evening. I’ll make some excuse for him, Meredith will understand. We live in a female led relationship were I make all of the decisions and run both the house and the bedroom. In fact, I keep him locked in chastity most of the time. I think that was why he was getting so frisky. He has been denied for a week with one more to go, maybe more now. When I could take a break I ordered him into our bedroom and told him to strip naked. The idiot thought we were going to have sex or something. Not today sweetie. His attitude changed when he saw me getting out my bondage bag and taking out several skeins of rope although he does like his bondage games. ...

continued from part one Part 2: Driving Miss Crazy Chapter 1: Why Am I Here, And For How Long? Laura was lying naked upon the cold stone floor, curled in a foetal position. Following her ensnarement by the Mistress that night she had been left alone to reflect on her future. Her ankles and wrists had been cuffed together forestalling any attempt at escape. The dungeon was pitch black. The heat lamp which had relentlessly drained her body of moisture and energy was now extinguished, only a faint glow remained as its element cooled. She was unable to call out for help; the ball gag was still embedded firmly in her mouth, forcing her to breathe long deep breaths through her nose. Wet trails criss-crossed her face where the gag had drawn rivulets of saliva from its seal with her lips. ...

I unrolled the long, black hose, left it loosely coiled in the sun. The rototiller made quick work of the plot and hand digging took less than an hour. It ended up kidney-shaped, the trough a thin scar cutting across the middle. I made a couple of trips with the cart, unloaded the truck, and arranged the plants about the plot. The trough would be lined with bricks, but not just yet. ...

I unrolled the long, black hose, left it loosely coiled in the sun. The rototiller made quick work of the plot and hand digging took less than an hour. It ended up kidney-shaped, the trough a thin scar cutting across the middle. I made a couple of trips with the cart, unloaded the truck, and arranged the plants about the plot. The trough would be lined with bricks, but not just yet. ...

This particular adventure dates back a few years to when I was in college and house-sitting one summer. The house itself was outrageous – probably over 9,000 square feet and on a dozen wooded acres abutting a land conservancy so it was quite secluded. I actually was dog-sitting more than house-sitting. Roscoe was a lovable chocolate lab who needed to be looked after while his owners were away for a couple of months on a world tour – but that’s another story. ...

Authors note; This story is in response to a comment in the story by Annabelle, called “Sleep as a Settlement Girl.” This is the story of a lovely young woman who visited a club to hang out with a couple friends before leaving for a week in Cabo. However, she never met up with her friends and instead spent a few days on her own terror filled vacation. While sitting at the bar waiting, a couple men made advances. Although she refused their advances she did not refuse their offer of a couple drinks. Soon she was feeling groggy and needing to lie down. A bouncer helped her to a back room, placing her on a couch and covered her with a blanket. That was the last she remembered. That is, until… ...

Intro: To my readers: my apologias for not posting more stories recently, but I have been working hard on two female domination and pony books entitled, Madam in Attendance & Chloe & Me, each to be published by the end of December 2011 by Pink Flamingo publications electronically and in paperback. So I hope this new free story of female woe and sexuality tickles your fancy. Enjoy S. M. Ackerman. (2011) ...

“Walk me home?” she asked with a smile. Returning her smile, I nodded, rising from my chair. “I’m just going to say good night to Jeremy.” With that, she vanished through the door. As I waited, I pondered. Mary, classic Asian beauty combined with an American temperament. In the short time I’d known her, she’d become a mystery I would love to solve. We met the day she began moving in next door to my best friend Jeremy. I’d gone outside to check out a noise I’d heard, only to find her struggling to move part of a sectional couch from a rental truck to the front door. My immediate offer to help was met with a look of almost complete scorn. ...

Barry stood before the inspector. He turned. The inspector peered closely. He even used a magnifying glass. Less than perfection was not an option. The inspector nodded. He opened the door to the cage. Barry climbed in. The inspector closed and locked the door. The cage was lined with soft, plush velvet. There was a slit in the middle. Barry slid his feet in, then his legs until he was waist deep in the luxurious fabric. The cage was made of silver, its sides woven like a basket. He could see out well enough, but others would have trouble seeing in. Given his nakedness, he felt that was a good thing. On the other hand, he was a perfect specemin. He was meant to be enjoyed visually. And while feeling a bit modest, he had worked hard to achieve that level of perfection and had escaped the life of misery and squalor he had been born into. ...

The bicycle crested the hill. Hard to miss that hot pink and black outfit. I checked that the Harley was well hidden behind the tractor under the eave and headed into the woods. I ducked behind some bushes at the corner of the house and adjusted the camera. I waited. Didn’t have to wait long. She peddled into the clearing and onto the brick patio. (click click click) She straddled the bike as she took off her helmet, shook out her impossibly blonde hair. (click click) She rolled the bike behind, then into the garage. ...

The wedding went as weddings do: Leela had a tantrum and dumped her basket of rose petals in the aisle, sat down and cried. At the reception a drunk Uncle Phil collided with a drunk Aunt May on the dance floor, setting off a mini firestorm until both had fresh drinks, kissed, and made up. Kind of creeped me out. The fact that they were siblings, I mean. And it was a serious, and I mean serious, kiss. Well, the jury was still out on that. And Uncle Earl, the official family photographer, ran out of film. Hey! Earl! One word: Digital! ...

The wedding went as weddings do: Leela had a tantrum and dumped her basket of rose petals in the aisle, sat down and cried. At the reception a drunk Uncle Phil collided with a drunk Aunt May on the dance floor, setting off a mini firestorm until both had fresh drinks, kissed, and made up. Kind of creeped me out. The fact that they were siblings, I mean. And it was a serious, and I mean serious, kiss. Well, the jury was still out on that. And Uncle Earl, the official family photographer, ran out of film. Hey! Earl! One word: Digital! ...

Well readers I hope you like this tale of sexual interest, I am sorry that I have been absent for a while, but I have been fixated on writing two books both very shortly to be available via Pinkflamingo (See the link on gromets plaza). Titled Madam in attendance and Chloe & me. I have been a volunteer working in this stately home (a big old ancient house filled with ancient treasures and open to the public) in Great Britain for longer now than I care to remember. During my time here I have had quite unrestricted access to the place, and I discovered a few months ago that it has a deep cellar which has been deliberately hidden. Within that cellar is a hidden or forgotten about torture chamber or dungeon as they are called. Now you might expect that an old monument of a house might have such a place concealed within it, but there was one thing not quite right with this situation, and that one thing is that most, though by all means not all of the equipment conceal within the room is ancient as might be expected, a hell of a lot of it was new or at least modern made in the 1920’s; this is a torture room set up for the 20th century, not for the distant past, and I can’t help but wonder who might have been secured in their, and what had been inflicted upon them and why, and of course I mostly wanted to know by whom. ...

Author’s Note: This is another true story of my adventures in living as a Settlement girl. Thanks to Zack for editing it. You know how it is sometimes, when you wake up in the middle of the night? Sometimes, you don’t quite make it all the way awake, so you end up feeling some things while being totally out of it in others…. and if it is timed right, there are bits of dream mixed in too, so you aren’t even sure what is real and what isn’t… although at the time you are hardly wondering about stuff like that anyway. ...

I was hiking in the forrest two years ago during a heat wave that kept most sane people inside in their air conditioned houses. The places I went were at least shady, and I was confident I would be alone during the week when I had off with my odd work shift of two rotating days off in a row. I got an early start and walked in after parking my car in the empty lot, it was always empty when it was this hot! I usually strip out of my clothes once onto one of the many trails and assured I’m alone. I have found that if I hike in at least a mile from the trail head there are no candy wrappers or other evidence of human activity and I feel safe to strip off. That day though I was out of my clothes while almost in sight of the parking lot and carrying them in my bag! ...

(story continues from The South American Expedition 3) Part Four Phoenix endured weeks in her vertical hole with at least one person from the tribe with her at all times. She could only listen, and respond with grunts or eye motions the rare times she was awake, to the stories that the others told her, a kind of oral tradition of the long history of the tribe. She was fed through her mouth tube, and her body rebuilt itself with the special mixture of nutrients she was carefully fed. This was a special form of magic the elder village women had discovered by trial and error when they first learned of their condition brought on by the spider bite. By offering up their bodies for the ritualistic feast, they were rewarded with regrown ones that were in some cases better than the ones that were devoured by the village. The four elder women could even alter her body by varying the kind of nutrients she received at specific times. ...

Janice Walker woke with a slight headache. Worse, she woke to find her hands somehow tied behind her. For a moment, she tugged at her bonds, then, slowly, she rose to her feet. Thinking quickly, she moved toward the kitchen, heading straight for the knife drawer. Janice turned her back to the drawer, fumbling with her bound hands until she was able to pull it open. Carefully, standing nearly on her toes to raise her bound hands high enough, she reached into the drawer, only to feel nothing. She turned, staring in disbelief into the empty drawer. ...

The year was 2013 and unemployment was over thirty percent and unsecured debt was outlawed. Many people, especially recently single women like myself, were in debt beyond their ability to ever repay. The state senate had quietly passed laws to protect their friends the bankers, and the governor had signed those bills so that he would continue to get their support. The new law also provided for a “debtors prison”, and had established the court system, and paid the judge I was now standing before. I was wearing only the rags they provided, that ironically would have lead to my arrest if worn on the street for indecent exposure. I was also plastic strap cuffed wrist and ankle, the former behind my back forcing my unrestrained breasts out through the holes in my thread bare “uniform”, and my ankles fastened to a ring bolted to the dirty floor. There was no jury of my peers, or lawyer for my defense, as both of them would have to be paid, and I was here because I couldn’t pay! I would have protested my treatment, except for the disposable bit gag in my mouth, ensuring my silence and adding to my humiliation… ...

I didn’t intend this to be a cautionary tale, but it worked out that way. It just goes to show how experienced self-bondagers can still get “stuck”—in my case, through a series of incidents involving recklessness, false assumptions, and impatience. My employer allows me to work from home on occasion. Now, if you have that kind of arrangement, I’m sure you have probably worked in whatever seemed comfortable to you—pajamas and slippers, old sweats, or—perhaps—nothing at all. I got the idea for my home work environment from an old union bargaining poster, that portrayed workers chained to their desks. ...

I was bathing in the local lake, late summers evening, calm water, sun reflecting off the surface of the peaceful liquid. All of a sudden I heard a rustle in the nearby trees, I swooped my wet hair in quickened motion to look behind, there he stood, that tall handsome stranger, he was awesome, tall dark handsome majestic, I didn’t even try to hide my nakedness from his eyes….. Do my eyes deceive me, was the beauty I gazed upon real, surely not, but a mere illusion brought on by the midday heat. But as I approach the waters edge this vision of perfection does not fade, but turns her head towards me and smiles shamelessly in all her naked glory. I attempt to speak but no words will spill from my lips. ...

Toula stepped into the shower to wash away the smell of beer a cigarettes. Three doubles in a row wrecked her, but it gave her four days off and some quality, private time. She examined herself in the mirror as she did more frequently these days. She was feeling old or maybe it was just tired. Her pretty, green eyes had dark circles now that the makeup was washed off. Her curly, red hair looked ratty. She thought again about getting a boob job. She had always been top heavy and the bra straps were making permanent furrows in her shoulders. But her cleavage was her cash draw in a way, in both senses of the word. ...

(story continues from Dumped on the Side of the Road 3: The Pack Mule) Part 4: References …I had offered my friend Lisa my spare bedroom because she was to drunk to drive. I was also, but I lived there! I wanted to just make love to her so badly I couldn’t stand it, but held back not wanting to start this thing off on the wrong foot in light of her “commitment” to the other three girls: P.J., T.T., and R.J. I couldn’t claim ignorance as their initials were clearly printed on Lisa’s petite little ass in a circle the size of a silver dollar, and I was sure there would be a price to pay if just took her without asking. I expected their OK would be just a formality, one Dom to another. ...

I was always the one in my family who got lumbered with the jobs no-one else wanted, so it was no surprise that when my Uncle William died I would be the one asked to help with clearing out his old stuff. Uncle William had been pretty wealthy, and owned a large detached house just outside the village with a swimming pool at the back, an orchard tacked on behind it and a stable yard round the side of the house. ...

I have been a volunteer working in this stately home (a big old ancient house filled with ancient treasures and open to the public) in Great Britain for longer now than I care to remember. During my time here I have had quite unrestricted access to the place, and I discovered a few months ago that it has a deep cellar which has been deliberately hidden. Within that cellar is a hidden or forgotten about torture chamber or dungeon as they are called. Now you might expect that an old monument of a house might have such a place concealed within it, but there was one thing not quite right with this situation, and that one thing is that most, though by all means not all of the equipment conceal within the room is ancient as might be expected, a hell of a lot of it was new or at least modern made in the 1920’s; this is a torture room set up for the 20th century, not for the distant past, and I can’t help but wonder who might have been secured in there, and what had been inflicted upon them and why, and of course I mostly wanted to know by whom. ...

Standing in front of the mirror, Mary decided that today would be the day. She’d been working up the nerve for some time now, and today would see the fruit of that work. She’d even come up with the perfect way to keep herself from backing out if she got cold feet. Had anyone been able to see Mary at that moment, they would never have guessed that she had been born Marc Reilly. Blessed, or cursed, with the ability to change himself at will, Marc had several years earlier created Mary as his alter ego. He had even arranged for her to have valid identification, and, in an ironic twist, he had even had himself named her legal guardian. ...

Rebecca looked nervously around the basement. No one was around, but she still blushed at the thought of getting caught doing what she was about to do. Well, the blush was part excitement and part embarrassment, but still it would be much easier if no one else in the building found out about her little game. In the basement corner squatted a nice big pile of stuffed shiny black trash bags - the building’s refuse for the last couple of days. Just looking at it made her heart race, made her squirm. She wanted nothing more than to be bound and stuffed in one of those soft shiny bags, to be left there for an indeterminate period to reflect on her position. For months she’d been thinking about it, and had some wonderful session masturbating to the mental pictures - now, on a cool Monday afternoon, it was time to do something about her fantasies! ...

“There!” We turn to look where Adam is pointing, see nothing but forest. Then Tabitha points. “There! By the second big tree.” Then we see it. The clearing. As we move closer we can see the natives, thin, wiry men and women. Some of the men carry spears. Some of the women carry babies. Adam throttles down the outboard and the dugout eases toward shore. Just as the canoe nudges ground men rush forward. I turn to Adam, but he just sits, calmly, in the back of the boat. ...

“I think it’s time,” she said. “Time? Time for what?” He was genuinely puzzled. “Time to find out if you’re as ready as you think,” she responded. He still didn’t get it, so she went on. “You were telling me how you want to spend more time tied up, right?” “Well yeah. Is that what it’s time for?” She nodded. “Yep, that’s what it’s time for.” “Well then I agree. It’s definitely time. What do you want me to do?” ...

continues from Should’ve Locked The Door It was a hot August afternoon as he pulled up to the trailer in his dusty old GMC. He sat in the cab for a moment, looking at the trees, listening to the birds, and unwinding from the drive. He stepped down from the cab with a slight smile and began unloading. He had done this enough times that the work was second nature. He set the clothing and food items on the porch, carried the batteries to their spot at the front of the trailer and hooked them up, slid the tools under the truck, and unloaded the five 7 gallon water carriers. He climbed onto the porch and carried the items he’d left there into the trailer, stowed them in their places and coaxed the little gas refrigerator to life. ...

I have seen a lot of interesting stories regarding the use of nettles in self bondage scenes. After reading a little about these weeds, I decided to try a shot at them. From what I can find, letting your cock head come in contact with the needles may not be a good idea, so I have decided to follow that advice. Now the set up. My back yard is rather large, fenced and tree lined. ...

Jane Harris was a high roller living in her third floor deluxe apartment in the centre of town she was not short of a penny, although she was a kept woman by her mother and father and thought nothing about blowing a few hundred in a night out. Stepping out a hot shower in the evening she adjust her towel around her very toned and curvy body, grabbing her mobile off the side she browsed her messages as she stepped out onto her balcony to watch the sunset, at that moment she received a message but because her phone was on vibrate it made her jump and she dropped it into a dumpster down below. Not thinking she shot out of her apartment into the lift and out the rear entrance, only thinking once outside that she was half naked, climbing up onto the dumpster she looked in and could see her phone laying in what looked like industrial waste. She leaned in as far as she could but could reach it finally just as she was about to give up she lost her footing falling head first, as she fell in she hit the door and it came slamming down after her snagging on her towel and ripping it from her body. Two hours later Jane awoke from a blow to the head, Jane had sunk deep into the rubbish within the dumpster, there was a strong smell of solvents in the air, and when she went to call for help she found her mouth to be stuck fast with glue that had leaked over her. Thinking she would look for her phone so she could text for help, she soon found out she was stuck to a large off-cut of plastic and her back and arms were completely fused to the sheet. Kicking out to gain attention she quickly lost her strength as the solvent overpowered her knocking her out, Jane lay there naked with her 38dd on show to anyone who wanted to look or touch. Morning came and the noise of the bin men woke her up, lifting her on to a state of the art compactor the trucks on board computer weighed the dumpster and concluded that there was no need to empty this bin, compaction would be the best course of action. Jane franticly tried to get the attention of the bin men as the compactor shot to life, if she could of been heard the words “noooooooooo” would have come out of her mouth. As the bin compacted tubes of liquid burst over her legs covering her in a sticky substance, large plastic tubes headed towards her so she put out her feet to stop them but the force of the truck was too great and the tubes push up over both of her feet and carried on being push up her legs like a pair of very solid tights. Squirming to escape Jane could only watch helpless as the tubes engulfed her thighs and finally stopped at her groin, with the glue setting in the tubes her legs were now useless to her she was spread eagled and stuck to base of the bin. When the second wave of the compactor came rubbish pushed up hard against her exposed pussy in seconds her old mobile phone was being pushed into her pussy by a hard plastic cylinder, forcing her pussy to bursting point the large intruder disappeared halfway into her love tunnel as the compactors second wave continued. Then in what Jane thought was a miracle the compactor broke down in mid compaction, Jane hoped in vain they had stopped it because they knew she was in there. Glue tricked down onto her nipples that were being squeezed hard by the waste around her, setting hard on her defenceless nipples the glue stuck her to the waste above her that was now also stuck to the compactor side of the bin. Hearing the truck roar back to life she freaked as the compactor return the side of the bin her nipples were stuck to, to the opposite side pulling hard on her nipples it stretched them far beyond their limits, screaming into her gag Jane didn’t notice the bin men leave. Moments later Jane received a text on the phone lodged inside her pussy and the vibration put her straight on the edge, then she received call after call from a worried mother causing her to eventually climax. She lay exhausted hour after hour she received call after call driving her pussy insane, causing her body to arch back in orgasm giving her severe pain in her nipples. Days later Jane’s bin was taken away to be emptied and a picker at the recycling plant found her all glued up and in need of help, putting her in his van he drove away, yet again Jane was expecting that she was saved but she was very wrong as the man drove past the local hospital heading out of town to his house, sporting an erection. ...

Author’s note: This is a true story, an actual description of my self-bondage weekend. Thanks to Zack for editing it. I’ve always loved reading the ‘Settlement’ stories by Graham. To be honest, I like a lot of bondage stories, and I play bondage games with myself a lot too. But the stories I like the most are the ones where the characters are kept in bondage and are nude almost constantly. The girl or girls never have a chance of being free or clothed, and they have to adjust to living that way forever, or at least for a very long time. ...

Olivia and I were in a nearby state park, which surrounded a large water supply lake. When the river that flowed through the valley was dammed to create the lake in the early 1900’s, several small towns were flooded. Some of the buildings and all cemeteries were moved, but the rest was simply submerged under the lake. On the uplands above the waterline, the remains of village roads and abandoned farms were everywhere. ...

Gretchen awoke from her nightmare with a sharp gasp, sitting up quickly and richocheting her eyes across her bedroom. Her rapid breaths subsided slowly with the knowledge of her waking. She fell back onto her mattress, hand over her heart. The dream was already trickling away from her consiousness. She remembered feeling trapped, or falling, or a bit of both. Worst was the vivid memory of a voice before waking. The low, hissing tone felt like it had whispered directly into her ear, “You’ll do wonderfully”, followed by deafening laughter from all sides. She shook the voices from her groggy mind, swishing her medium-length blond hair. Calmed, she leapt out of bed, throwing off her nightie and hopping directly into the nearby bathroom shower. ...

The crate was delivered outside her front door. It looked innocent enough. There were the usual markings: warning about fragile and arrows to indicate which way up it should be. It was perched on one of the short ends with the door facing her. As she circled it she saw in big letters on the bottom. “Help I am upside Down!” It brought a smile to her face. She had once seen that on the bottom of a box carrying a sewing machine. She hoped that the carriers took notice of such things. There were also holes drilled periodically all over. Were all these markings for real or were they just for her benefit? It seemed outrageous to think that a normal commercial courier would transport such a cargo? Perhaps they do not need to know the exact contents? She pulled off the envelope with her name on it to reveal the return address: Black Acre Castle, in Cumbria. She vaguely wondered if it really was a castle. Cumbria was over eight hours drive. She would not have enjoyed driving herself there. It remained to be seen how she coped with the designated transport. ...

My wife and I had been having some problems with our marriage for some time now. We had been to several marriage councilors, but it hadn’t really helped much. Out of the blue, my wife got a call from her old college roommate. Apparently she was in town and wanted to go out with her for a few drinks. I was actually surprised that my wife wanted to go because she always told me that her old roommate was into some crazy stuff. But I guess that just goes to show how bad our marriage was at that point that she would choose her crazy old roommate over her husband. ...

DRIP, DRIP Geoffrey was laid out naked on a table: secured firmly to it by a broad metal band that covered his middle and pressed his arms against his sides. The room the table was in was well lit by lamps in the corners of the room and five feet above him was a small water tank with a tap suspended over his forehead. Splash! The water dripped down on him, causing his body to jerk. He counted one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine … Splash! The water dripped down and Geoffrey spasmed again. He counted the seconds and the water dripped down a third time. It must have been an hour or more since he was put in here. Geoffrey couldn’t tell as his watch had been taken away with his clothes. Sometimes the droplets of water splashed into his eyes and ran down his cheeks. The idea being to wear down his stamina. He’d also heard that it was also to wear a groove in his forehead. Why, he thought. He had two holes in his head for his nostrils; two for his ears; two for his eyes; one for his mouth and the one his brain leaked out of. The dripping water had been disconcerting at first, but he’d eventually got used to it. He’d even been able to doze for a short time; still feeling the drops on him. He was also enjoying the thrill of being naked and tied up. Especially when Su - Lin came in. Geoffrey felt his restrained penis swell. She was Chinese and had a shapely figure highlighted by the strapless, floral-print swimsuit she wore. She wore her brown hair in a fringe and her heart-shaped face had wide brown eyes and full lips. “How old are you?” he’d asked her as he was stripped and tied up. “Twenty-two,” she’d told him, before postioning the water tank overhead on a rail and leaving, locking the door behind her. She bent over him; making sure he had had a full view of her clevage to torment him more. “Little slant-eyed bitch,” Geoffrey thought, “I want you but you’ve got me.” “How are you getting on?” she purred. “All right thank you,” Geoffrey answered chirpily. “Thanks for the water. I haven’t been thirsty.” The girl smiled. “Are you ready to talk?” “Talk about what?” Geoffrey asked. Su - Lin put her hands on his chest and massaged his breasts; kneeding his nipples between her fingers. Geoffrey tensed and wished he could be released. “You know what you want to tell me,” she cooed, “Whether you want this to go on, or do you want it to stop?” “Give me a big kiss and I’ll tell you,” Geoffrey smiled. Su - Lin smiled back: “You know I can’t do that. Not yet.” She pinched his nipples causing him to wince. ...

Three am on a Sunday morning in mid summer, is as dark as any night in the winter and that is despite the moon’s glow. I am prowling my territory looking for something, anything! I am a hunter, a seeker of the unaware, a destroyer of any I encounter, that is what I am, and why I am afoot on this pleasant dark night. I am tracking the path of my target, my arousal first stimulated by a slight whiff of perfume, accompanied by the strange smell of a female fully aroused. The ground shows clear tracks of the route that my target has followed. I can see like an owl in the dark so the scrapes and scratches of a passing body, scattered along the woodland track, all stand out to me, as I hunt. I am close, near to my quarry, aroused beyond my ability to resist. I am the hunter she is my prey. ...

(story continues from The Wild Hunt) Five “Well, that’s one for your little pansy boy, Janie,” Sue said with a smirk knowing that her friend hated when she ridiculed her slave. Sue however did not care when it came to insulting Jane’s ‘precious’ Little c, and every chance she got to abuse or humiliate the little bastard, she took. “I didn’t think he had it in him.” Sue saw Jane smile, brushing her hair back off of her collar. ...

Sue checked that she had everything she would need. This was going to be her toughest ever challenge, and she knew she had only two days to succeed. After that, it didn’t bear thinking about. She had booked the cottage in the middle of nowhere deliberately. There were no neighbours, no street lights, and the roads were hardly more than dirt tracks that had seen few cars in a long time. ...

When Andrew returned home his wife, Laura, was waiting for him. She had an oval shaped face, cool, blue eyes which were almost cat-like, and a rich full mouth. Her brown, waved hair was tied back but several strands had come loose. She wore a clinging t-shirt and tight hipsters that emphasised her slim, shapely figure and large breasts. “Oh Andrew I’ve missed you.” she said and hugged him. ...

My friend Joan had a boyfriend named Dan who was a real outdoor kind of guy. The kind of guy who hunts and fishes with his buddies, but didn’t always spend as much time with Joan as she would have liked. Joan knew she was being selfish, but couldn’t help herself, or so she said. I don’t think she wanted to compete with dead fish and deer for Dan’s time. ...

continued from part one Part Two (nb: “bottle’ means courage or boldness, to “bottle it” is to lose it.) Standing up this time was easier than the first time, as there were plenty of trees, wiping the disgusting cow muck from my face was not. In the end and after a few valiant attempts, which only managed to smear the stuff across my face further, I gave up on the idea and headed back to the main path. I reached the path and carefully, ready to duck away and hobble for all I was worth, looked in both directions. There was no-one in sight so I stepped out and turned, my long walk began again. This time I found myself listening and jumping with every sound I heard. ...

“So let me get this straight then. Your top, number one fantasy is to be the sex slave of a man, to be his possession, to let him chain you up, whip you, and then throw him to his mates so they can enjoy you as well?” “That’s not how it is and you know it.” “Well tell me where I’m wrong then”. “Look. I do get turned on by the submissive bit, I want a man who is so gorgeous and so dominant that I want him to take me and I do fancy being in his power. He might seem to be in control but I want to feel that he is so obsessed with me that he has to have me and… well okay, he’s so crazy about me that he wants to share me with other men, to let them see what he’s got and how sexy I can be. I’m tired of the sex games we all play, all the conventions and routines. I want raw physical pleasure, I want to drive a man wild with lust and feel that lust myself. And yes, I have a thing about pain, if a man excites me enough, I want him to get a bit rough, the pain and the pleasure… they mingle somehow, oh God Dawn I don’t know why you got me started on this “ ...

I am 33 years old, 5’ 8" tall slim with long legs and long blond hair and an ample pair of breasts and when I am in my day job as sales manager meeting new customers I’m often wearing something that excites me, my favourite being a nappy and plastic panties, if only they knew what I got up to in my free time. I have an ever increasing desire for sexual excitement and stimulation which involves, pain, bondage, dressing up and getting very messy. My latest adventure involves a lot of planning and preparation and over the previous weeks had been getting various pieces of equipment organised. ...

Today starts like most days start, with breakfast. That is where the normalcy of this day vanishes. Breakfast normally consists of coffee, toast with butter, then off to work. Today it consists of a bowl of high fibre cereal, milk by the glass, a protein mix shake, and plenty of water to follow. My day normally starts with at least three cigarettes as well (I know there bad for me but…). Today they are banned, this is all part of the day I have planned for myself. ...

I wanted to send you a self bondage story, but I wanted to DO it first. I read other stories and picked the parts I liked, and set my goals for a three day weekend, all to myself, except, I wasn’t by myself. By the way, it’s a true story, November 2010. After finding the bondage pictures my ex-girlfriend took of me when we were still together, I decided I had to be tied up again!! I started studying self bondage stories and tips, picking out the parts I liked and wanted to use, then I added a few new tricks of my own. ...

She’d arranged the disciplinary interview for 5.00 which was the only thing in this nightmare that gave either Alan or Cheryl any relief, anything to cling onto. They were in Joanne’s office at the end of the corridor and, hopefully, at least, virtually nobody else would be in the building by the time the interviewing was really underway. Joanne broke the strained silence. “Well we may as well get this over with. You’ve had a copy of the charges brought against you, I presume you have read them fully?” ...

As the room slowly swam into focus I found myself looking directly at a naked man tied to a chair. Looking down, I realized it was a mirror and that I was the naked man tied to a chair. I shook my head vigorously to clear the cobwebs and tried to remember how I got here. I was at a loss for a few minutes, and then it hit me like the hot kiss at the end of a wet fist. It was the frail. The dame with the gimlet eyes and the Grable gams. ...

“Faster Maggot!” the voice boomed over the loud speaker. Sarah picked up another rock and loaded it onto the cart beside her. The crack of a whip sounded off in the distance encouraging her to continue her work at a brisk pace. As long as it was not her back getting the whip, she felt somewhat safe. Sarah picked up the handle of the cart and began to pull it as fast has her shackled bare feet would allow. This was her lot in life for the next thirty days. The judge had sentenced her to hard labor for her wrong doings. ...

(nb: “bottle’ means courage or boldness, to “bottle it” is to lose it.) The problem with me is that deep down I want to suffer and feel humiliated, scared, and everything else I have read about other women feeling when they do self-bondage. You know the sort of things, the tight ropes, the helplessness, the fear and the risk; and of course the potential of being caught and all that entails. Previously that is where my problem has been, I wanted all of this, but each time I decided to inflict it on myself I bottle it in some way. ...

I still couldn’t believe it. The store I had worked for had caught fire and I was unemployed. Here it was the second day of summer break and I had no job to speak of. It was the last summer I would be at home because I was going off to collage. I wanted to get some extra money and now it looked like I was going to have to work fast food and that idea really didn’t appeal to me. After a few days a friend of my Dad’s, Mark, told me that his company was looking for a few people. ...

Authors note: Well it has been a while since my last piece. So I figured I would write another one that is partially based in reality. It follows along the same theme as my first story “You Wait”. Enjoy. Like any self respecting Dom I am always on the look out for potential subs/slaves. I had just recently joined flickr and was browsing the various groups looking for ideas. And there in one of the groups message pools was a message that caught my attention. Nothing ventured nothing gained. After several weeks of email and chat it was agreed it would become my slave. So begins the tale of its arrival here as my slave. ...

Authors note: Well it has been a while since my last piece. So I figured I would write another one that is partially based in reality. It follows along the same theme as my first story “You Wait”. Enjoy. Like any self respecting Dom I am always on the look out for potential subs/slaves. I had just recently joined flickr and was browsing the various groups looking for ideas. And there in one of the groups message pools was a message that caught my attention. Nothing ventured nothing gained. After several weeks of email and chat it was agreed it would become my slave. So begins the tale of its arrival here as my slave. ...

Techster’s Tan Most of our more enlightened (and kinky) friends know that Techster and I have been playing with bondage ( and enforced male chastity) games for about 30 years. Like Techster I enjoy designing and making creative ways to put a person in bondage. This past week I saw some “slide clips” these are sewn into webbing and can be used to tie down loads, make back pack straps or really neat bondage gear. (ymm!!) ...

It was my birthday and I was so depressed. I was out with the girls putting on a happy face but I knew that they were not buying it. I had signed the papers divorcing my cheating husband 48 hours ago and I knew I should be feeling better but I wasn’t. Turning 35 was no big deal but turning 35 alone and with no prospects left me feeling old. I kept myself in shape with regular visits to the gym and I had a great job that kept me financially secure but I still couldn’t shake the loneliness I felt that night. ...

continued from part 1 Part 2 After getting locked out of my car and having to break the window to get in, (see part one) I decided there should be a safety device in my bondage play. Not one so easy to use that I could bail out on my ordeal early, but one that would come with a heavy price to use. I had several ideas and set one of them up in my regular play area, and one up on my car. I had several extra door keys made and tried them all in the parking lot of the hardware store to ensure they worked, and it was a good thing I did because one didn’t. The nice man made me a new key and I told him what else I was looking for, but not why obviously, and he directed me to a truck stop off the highway. ...

WARNING: Adult only story. Mines, caves, tunnels etc, are potential killers. Do Not enter without serious consideration, preparation, equipment and experience. Act safely and sensibly at all times, stupidity costs lives. Self bondage is fun, and has been fun since before I care to remember, but eventually, no matter how tight the bondage, no matter how strenuous the situation. There comes a point in every fantasists dreams that it is just not enough! The danger is not as pointed as it once was, the need is more desirous of risk, and by risk I mean being hurt or caught or humiliated publicly, and the need to feel the fear of all of these possibilities burns in your mind. I had arrived at just this point in my bondage life, and on the day that I discovered a disused mine shafts air vent. (continued from part 2) ...

WARNING: Adult only story. Mines, caves, tunnels etc, are potential killers. Do Not enter without serious consideration, preparation, equipment and experience. Act safely and sensibly at all times, stupidity costs lives. Self bondage is fun, and has been fun since before I care to remember, but eventually, no matter how tight the bondage, no matter how strenuous the situation. There comes a point in every fantasists dreams that it is just not enough! The danger is not as pointed as it once was, the need is more desirous of risk, and by risk I mean being hurt or caught or humiliated publicly, and the need to feel the fear of all of these possibilities burns in your mind. I had arrived at just this point in my bondage life, and on the day that I discovered a disused mine shafts air vent. (continued from part one) ...

WARNING: Adult only story. Mines caves tunnels etc are potential killers. Do Not enter without serious consideration, preparation, equipment and experience. Act safely and sensibly at all times, stupidity costs lives. Part One . Self bondage is fun, and has been fun since before I care to remember, but eventually, no matter how tight the bondage, no matter how strenuous the situation. There comes a point in every fantasists dreams that it is just not enough! The danger is not as pointed as it once was, the need is more desirous of risk, and by risk I mean being hurt or caught or humiliated publicly, and the need to feel the fear of all of these possibilities burns in your mind. I had arrived at just this point in my bondage life and on the day that I discovered a disused mine shafts air vent. ...

I woke up in this dark place, it’s a very dark, wet and slimy place, and what is that stench? I am alone now, I think that I heard the sound of footsteps as my captor left. I am bound hand and foot, gagged tightly, with a cloth sack pulled over my head, and judging from how cold I feel, I am naked! I pull against my arms restraints, trying to snap or stretch the cords securing them behind my back. I can’t budge them an inch. My wrists start to hurt as the cords cuts into my flesh, so I stop! I try straightening out my legs but they only move six inches before my wrists are being pulled. Behind me is cold concrete, somewhere in front of me I can hear water running, I am scared out of my wits, and just want to go home. ...

continued from How I Met Her - Part 1 About a year and a half ago Emily and I were just getting into a real bondage relationship. I was learning what ever I could about bondage, so I could make Emily happy. I would even study what she would do while bound. Mostly it started with her binding herself up on Fridays before I got home from school and work. I would find her in random positions around the apartment, bound to different objects. She almost always wore a pink collar, and her leather cuffs. One day I realized she always had a vibrator inside of her, also found one of her cuffs or other restraints loose. I wanted to know what was going on so I decided to find out. ...

It was a quiet winter wedding with just close friends and family. I had met Rhonda at a business meeting which I would not have gone to, since I was a teacher, except that a friend asked me to accompany her. I was immediately struck by Rhonda’s sense of knowing who she was, where she was, and what she wanted. I’m not sure what she saw in me except, maybe, arm candy. But we got along well, liked the same things, and the sex - - only after marriage - - was OK. [Just OK; I wanted more than she did but her career came first.] ...

I was compacted. I was compacted in a real trash bin, with a real compactor, and it did its job very well. How you might ask did this occur? Well it was my own fault; I told the right group of friends the right amount of information… and my kinky friends made it happen. They have an overly developed sense of excitement when it comes to kinky things. I told my girlfriend how much I liked the story that I read off the internet, and she must have told a few people, for they all had a part in my demise. I guess that she wanted to give a huge scene, and found a way to do it without it too much cost… so here I am. ...

I had set up a kind of ordeal hiking in the woods on the way home from college, once a week. At first I would park my car on the side of a woods trail and hike in wearing only my string bikini top and jogging shorts. I never saw anybody on these hikes and wanted to make them more challenging, so I decided to hide a spare key for my car way out on the trail and lock my other key in the car. This way I was forced to walk farther and could not change my mind once I locked the car door with my key inside. ...

Pony Racer. (the Beginning). Everyone has heard of Royal ascot and ladies day, and strawberries at the track side, with champer’s in a glass bubbling away. The noise of the start gun, the excitement of betting on the racers, of watching the horse flesh gallop around the circuit. Then there are the trap racers, carriage drivers who thunder teams of horses around a cross-country course, well I am a part of that scene, but not in the normal way! ...

I had only been in the house 10 minutes; I wouldn’t need much longer to finish off what I came there to do. Let me explain where I was…. I was in Katie’s house, she is my neighbour and bloody hell I thought she was hot! Not attractive in the conventional sense yet she carried a definite sex appeal that no doubt plenty of men had noticed along with me. A police woman aged 36, 5’4 tall, ample 38c breasts, shoulder length natural blonde hair, pretty face and a superb natural curvy figure, that only just boarded onto chubby. I moved next door to her 5 years ago and straight away I had the hots for her, I would have asked her out but she had a boyfriend back then, that relationship had led ultimately to marriage and recently divorce. ...

My name is Rachael and I work at a senior college. My days are spent dealing with a variety of trivial student problems, ranging from lost papers, to girl/boy friend dumped scenarios. I assist and smooth and counsel and help at every twist and turn of a student life. Dealing with nearly six hundred, nineteen year old student angst’s takes it out of you. I have over the years explored my own desires in many ways, I find that being sexually sated and feeling fulfilled makes my job that much easier to do, but unfortunately; recently, a very strange desire has exploded in my mind and there is quite a lot of risk and possible humiliation in fulfilling it. ...

A nice early fall day, temp 60 with a few clouds. The weatherman was predicting a chance of rain this evening. I have been planning this for a few weeks and today is the day. Friday noon and I’m done with work. I get home and by 2pm I’m ready for my adventure. I showered after I cleaned myself out with three enemas; the last one came out clear. After drying off I super glued my special strap to my ass crack. This strap fastened together in front and when pulled tight they worked like using my fingers spreading my crack and exposing my anus. ...

Part 2: Moosehunter’s Walk - Return Challenge Over the next two weeks the urge to take another walk was too great to pass on and this was the last chance before the leaves change and winter. I decided no more nettle leaves up the anus, but I wanted more of a challenge: First a way to limit my vision, this was done with a modified welders goggles, they allowed me to see straight ahead but not to the sides and any fast movement or looking up caused the shield to drop and virtual darkness. Now I could raise the shield and using both hands lock the shield in the upright position, so the blindness was only temporary and of course they locked on so I couldn’t remove them without the key. Second I decided on a one and a half pound weight for my balls, I hadn’t retrieved the allen wrench so I would take the other one with and leave it there so I would have to return there to remove the weights. Of course I could leave the weight on a day or two first. Third I really wanted to be spanked so I was leaving a note for a friend telling him where I was taking a walk and inviting him to join me. He would know what I was doing and what I was hoping for. ...

continued from part 7 Part 8: Heading Home Tuesday-Heading Home 2 We woke early the next morning, had a cold breakfast and packed up everything for travel. Still naked I pulled the RV out into the road and hooked the Jeep up to it. Felt kind of funny being able to do this with no restraints whatsoever. When all was ready to go I asked Jane if she wanted to go with me to tell our neighbors goodbye and see if he had been released yet. She agreed and suggested I at least put a couple of zipties on my hands. When we got to the camp they were just getting up and he was still tied the way we had left him last night. I asked how his shoulders were, and he said, “They hurt like hell!” I told him to hang in there it gets better as you get used to it and I should know because I just spent the better part of two weeks with my hands behind my back. At that we told them we would be leaving in a few minutes and we had enjoyed spending the last two evenings with them. We walked back to the RV and Jane cut my hands free and asked what I would be wearing today. I had thought maybe I’d wear a thong and a short shirt that came down to almost my waist line leaving my cheeks completely bare but the front not illegally exposed. ...

continued from part 6 Part 7: Wednesday-Propane Problem 2 Jane had removed the lock between my wrist and ankles before we turned in for the night so I was able to hop and jump outdoors. It was raining very lightly by bedtime and she dried me down on my return. The next morning I was up early and went out. The rain had stopped but everything was wet and it was still pretty much overcast. I let Jane sleep ’til she woke up. She unlocked my cuffs and I put on a nine-inch hobble and a twelve-inch chain between my hands. We had breakfast, cleaned the kitchen and started packing the things to go up the hill. We ended up with three boxes. I checked that the boats and shed were secured and picked up one of the boxes and started up the hill. When I got there I unlocked the RV, put the box inside and turned off the water pump and opened the valve to drain the water tank so that it wouldn’t freeze over the winter. Jane had given me an opened lock and I worked my feet over the wrist chain and my hands up my back. I put the lock on such that I had a three-inch length between my wrist cuffs. ...

I woke up in bed, hot sticky and horny as hell, with a fire burning in my loins! My fingers soon put out the fire, but not the desire that caused it to rage through my soft female sex. I can only put down my arousal to a story I read on the internet last night. It was quite simple in concept; the story took a woman and a dustbin and put the two together in a dirty messy kind of way. Now why this should affect me in such a way I can’t tell you, but it most certainly did! ...

continued from part 5 Part 6: Sunday-Rain Rumbles Yesterday afternoon it had been hot and humid with the temperature over one hundred degrees and the humidity close to that. The clouds started gathering late in the day and by ten o’clock the temperature had dropped maybe ten degrees. When we went to bed I had put my six-inch hobbles on and Jane had locked my hands together and put the chain to my cock ring on me. I was getting to where I kind of liked this arrangement. Jane put on a long tee shirt for a nighty and we turned in. About midnight I woke to thunder rumbles in the distance and the pitter-patter of light rain on the roof. I woke Jane and we went to the front door, turned on the street light, the light switch was inside the cabin, and watched the rain falling. We could see reflections of lightning on the clouds. Jane said, “Let’s walk down to the beach and see if we can see the lightning strikes.” ...

continued from part 3 Part 4: Tuesday-Cop Check 2 Tuesday morning we woke with the sun and found ourselves both naked in the great outdoors. Jane ran for the cabin and got a shirt and shorts on while I relieved myself and then I went to the cabin to get my chains on. I didn’t figure on doing anything energetic today so I put my leg chains triple up, or with a six-inch hobble, and my wrist chains with three-inch slack, as that is as short as I can do by myself, behind my back. Jane fixed muffins for breakfast and hand fed me mine. ...

continued from part 4 Part 5: Wednesday-Fisher Folk 2 After breakfast Jane exchanged the lock on my ankles for the nine-inch hobble chain so I could get around a little easier and changed my wrist lock to a six-inch chain in front. We sort of cleaned and straightened up the place and I made sure we still had plenty of bait and hooks in the shed for the trotline. We went down to the middle cove and I collected firewood for the fish fry and made three trips to bring it back to the cabin. By then it was lunchtime and afterwards we just stayed around the cabin area doing nothing. ...

continued from part two Part 3: Monday-Spread and Stretched We got up Monday morning with nothing particular to do so, after breakfast I had Jane release my hands and lock them in front and then got the grass whip to take down some more weeds around the yard. I worked on it ’til around noon when we had lunch and Jane said lets take a walk. We put me on the eighteen-inch hobble with hands locked behind and leash attached and started for the beach. We kept going to the third cove to see what shape it was in. It was looking good so we started back to the cabin. ...

continued from part one For Gromet and all those who read this site. You are real to me. This is a work of fiction. As per standard, take extreme care when you tie and/or bind or lock yourself up. And especially when you play with anyone. Don’t, I repeat, DON’T burn anyone! And always have an ‘out’. Know your limits. And know theirs. Otherwise you may very well kick that nasty breathing to live habit you got going on. Savvy? Anyway, on with it. ...

continued from part one Part 2: Wednesday-Propane Problem In the last chapter of this story you learned my wife, Jane, and I were at a friend’s cabin on a large lake and I was naked and chained hand and foot and also had tight plastic cuffs applied by the local sheriff. When I woke I had to get up and hop and jump outdoors so I could water a tree. I then noticed that the gas lamp was off. We had left it burning last night because I couldn’t turn it off with my hands behind me. I hopped into the cabin and tried lighting the stove. It wouldn’t light so we must have a gas problem somewhere. I woke Jane and asked her to cut the plastic thingies off me and unlock my hands leaving just the eighteen-inch hobble on me. I turned off the gas lamp, locked my hands together and put the six-inch chain between my wrists and neck collar, locking me up as we had agreed. I could then go up the hill and try to figure out what was wrong with the gas. ...

The southern Nevada desert was beautiful as though the earth had stripped naked for her lover. I posed on a sun warmed but gritty rock with shiny black heels I could barely walk in, lace topped gleaming black nylon thigh highs, and a smile on my face. Mike and Rodger were smiling as they walked about taking pictures of my naked exposed body with the breath taking vista behind me. Some of the angles were artistic figure, but many were straight up the middle catching every drop of moisture oozing from my pussy. We were all so fascinated by the subject matter with my nipples rock hard and their cocks trying to break free of their jeans that none of us noticed the car pull up. ...

It was a sleazy, dimly lit little bar, similar to any of those in or near major cities all around the world. Cities like Hong Kong, Saigon, certain places in Africa, and of course, Tijuana, Mexico. This was the late 50’s, and this one was in Tijuana – just across the border from a major military training station in San Diego, California. It was traditional among many military men that new recruits should get drunk and get laid as a rite of passage upon graduation from their basic training, and in San Diego, the place to go was Tijuana. Cheap prices, and reportedly, cheap whores. ...

Part 1: Tuesday - Cop Check It has been about eighteen months since Jane and I have had a vacation. My company has been working on a two-year contract that is about to finish. The next contract will not start to ramp up for about three more months. In the meantime the company is encouraging employees to take their vacations and any “compensating time off” (unpaid overtime) that accrued while we were trying to finish the contract on time. I have four weeks vacation and another four weeks CTO and the company is willing to pay for health insurance and retirement plan premiums for the rest of three months. So I can take three months off and only lose one month’s pay. ...

It was a sleazy, dimly lit little bar, similar to any of those in or near major cities all around the world. Cities like Hong Kong, Saigon, certain places in Africa, and of course, Tijuana, Mexico. This was the late 50’s, and this one was in Tijuana – just across the border from a major military training station in San Diego, California. It was traditional among many military men that new recruits should get drunk and get laid as a rite of passage upon graduation from their basic training, and in San Diego, the place to go was Tijuana. Cheap prices, and reportedly, cheap whores. ...

Kelly looked at the ninety nine keys in the box. If she went through with this, there would be a hundred, and she would be confined until she found the right one with which to release her. If she carried this through, she would put the last key in the box, and then deliberately knock the box to the floor, scattering the keys everywhere, no knowledge of which was her key, or in which direction it had gone. It would be her severest challenge, and one no-one could help her with. ...

Friday evening finally arrived and Sarah couldn’t wait to slough off the stresses of the long week behind her. She looked forward to the first quiet evening alone in weeks; her friends were cast to the four winds with obligations of their own, as well as her parents, enjoying the first day of their vacation. She hadn’t had a boyfriend in some months and was getting accustomed to her sexual liberty, which is why tonight sounded like such a good idea for a little naughty play time. After a quick trip to the bathroom, Sarah peeled off her clothes and enjoyed those first seconds when her naked skin seemed to breathe easier, unconstrained by the elastic and wire of her undergarments. Her clothes lay in an unceremonious heap in front of the hamper and she ran her hands over 36D breasts and hips as if clearing away the last vestiges of the office. She wondered for a moment what her office mates would think if they saw her do what she was planning to do to herself in the next few minutes. Her stomach did a little somersault as the thought freaked her out and aroused her at the same time. Maybe she had been alone too long. Sarah decided it would prudent to make a quick circuit of her apartment and check the curtains and door locks, and of course the stove, even though she hadn’t cooked all day. It made her feel better to check. As she made her inspection, the sound of her bare feet padding along the hard wood floors echoed in her ears, raising her arousal level a touch. She despised shoes and only wore them because everyone else in the world didn’t have the common decency to just simply carpet everything. Oh well, one day they’ll all get it. She always tried to wear as little shoe as possible and would go to work in her thinnest flip-flops if she could. How else could she show off her shapely feet with the fresh pedicure, the new clear polish shining at the tips of her toes? No matter, though, as her impending imprisonment would soon deny her the comfort of clothes, let alone shoes. Tonight, Sarah decided, she would be naked, as a proper prisoner really should be. What jailer would offer criminals such pleasures as covering while enduring confinement? Surely she would not be spared. The thought got her off track and she rested a hand on the wall while she regained her balance, a little flush ran through her. If she didn’t want to pop her cork before play time, she had to get back to business. As she closed the last curtain, she caught a glimpse of pale skin in the hall mirror. Shoulder length dark, cropped hair caressed the top of her shoulders and hazel eyes glared back at her momentarily. Then her gaze dropped to take in the details of the full, supple breasts she viewed in the mirror. She looked at them as if perhaps she had stolen a glance at some other woman’s breasts and admired them lustily. She reached her arms over head and crossed her wrists behind her head, and with a sultry move, gave her hips a little twist. The movement of her body gave her gorgeous soft tits a little sway from side to side and she felt enraptured by their movements as if they had decided to try and tease her on their own. She didn’t know whether to thank Heaven, genetics or perhaps some eros-driven, lightning throwing, shadowy immortal who blessed her only to later pluck her and take her at his whim, but she had quite a voluptuous figure. Again the idea of her plans came front and center into her mind, and she fought off the butterflies. Whatever the source of her curves, she was going to punish her body for being so sexy. She took one more quick glance at her breasts, her nipples starting the harden, thinking she had special plans for those beauties. She took hard, fast steps back to the bedroom, throwing her hips to and fro, making her tits dance and bounce in all directions. She scooped up the luscious orbs in her hands and kneaded them between her fingers, wresting them under control. Her mind again envisioned the jailer, a medieval man-at-arms with crags and wrinkles in his face and rough hewn hands squeezing them mercilessly. She was to be imprisoned, and properly restrained to punish her for her crimes. From the deep, black corner of the closet came her private toy chest, a vault of naughty delights she enjoyed when the time was right. Her bondage would be simple, but restrictive, and if she wanted to escape, she would have to endure a self-imposed torture. Without a moments hesitation, the silver Fury leg shackles with the 12" chain came out of the box and were instinctively snapped around both of her delicate ankles. In fact, it was only after the second bracelet had ratcheted shut as tightly as it would go did Sarah even consider where the keys were. After a quick rummage, she plucked them from the bottom of the box and placed them on the nightstand, easy to pick up, for now, she thought. She admired her shackled feet in the cold steel, alternately pointing her toes in a hard arch and then throwing her legs as wide as she could to relish the feeling of the chain snapping her legs at a hard 12 inches. She wondered to herself why didn’t she wear these more often? Around the house, while watching TV or cleaning? Note to self for later; keep the shackles handy. After the initial rush of the ankle bondage started to wear off, she plucked a neatly wound coil of thin rope from the box. As Sarah unwound the loops, the ends of the rope made a satisfying thud against the floor. Once fully unraveled, she double the rope over evenly, making sure the ends stayed an equal length. When she was left with a small loop in her hand and a new jumble of rope at her feet, she wrapped the doubled rope around the top of her chest, pulling the long ends through the bend, twisting the loop around her body and cinching the rope until two tight cords of rope encircled her chest just above her breasts and the two long ends pulled against the bend behind her back. Keep the tension strong, she wrapped the rope in the opposite direction, running the ends through the new loop in the middle of her back and taking up the slack until two tight cords bit slightly into her skin under her breasts. Her breathing accentuated the grip of the rope-work, and she used this a gauge to keep the tightness even while she threaded the remainder of the long ends through the solid loops in the middle of her back and brought the long ends to the back of her head where she split them, one over each shoulder, and then brought them back together as she ran them under the two pairs of taught rope compressing her chest. Carefully keeping the tension, she wrapped the long ends around the two pairs and when she made one full wrap around them, Sarah pulled the rope tight. The high and low rope came together between her tits in a firm cinch that quickly made her breasts compress where they met her chest and engorge. Her tits were suddenly very full feeling and the skin pulled tight. Her nipples showed their approval. Soon enough my lovelies, she thought. The jailer was feeling particularly cruel tonight. Sarah wrapped the end of the rope a few more times around the middle of the cinch and brought the separate ends over her shoulders and around the back of her neck. She tied the ends in a simple knot and pulled, keeping the tension. Her breasts heaved up and she applied a simple bow to keep them in place. Some of her more expensive bras didn’t give the the lift and separation this simple rig did. Hmmm… how would it look under a shirt? Later, she thought. The jailer felt a crotch rope was in order. Why not watch the prisoner squirm? Sarah wondered if a dildo or one of her little vibrators would be appropriate. No, again no such pleasure for this slut. She’s probably in prison for prostitution, or adultery, why give her any satisfaction? Another coil of thin rope was taken from the box, and like the breast rope started with a doubled length of cord wrapped around her waist and threaded through the bend. The rope burned a little as she pulled it tighter and tighter while centering the bend over the top of her ass. She didn’t get to see as much of her ass as her sexy twins, but she admired its fullness just the same and gave herself a firm whack on the right buttock. She was rewarded with a tasty little delayed sting in her cheek and the pleasure of a titillating jiggle that gave her pussy just a little play. No more of that if I want to get this going, she thought. Again keeping the tension with one hand against the bend in the rope, she reach between her legs and snagged the two dangling ends with two fingers. Once in hand, she pulled the two ends up and under the pair of tight cords just above her mound and took up the slack. She gave each butt cheek a little adjustment to let the rope slide right up into the crack of her ass. With a little more pulling, she could feel rough hemp twine she was using slip in between her pussy lips. Her pussy moistened just a little against the dry rope and it felt as if her labia were gripping the rope themselves. With another tug to give everything a frustrating tightness, she pulled down on the ends of the rope in front of her, pulling her sinister belt into an alluring V-shape, like a bikini. Every little movement was reminder not to move. Catching her breath, Sarah sent the two long ends of the rope back between her legs and scooped them up behind her. Keeping the tightness at cruel levels, she passed the two ends of the rope, one to each hand, around the back of her legs, just under her buttocks and wrapped the single lengths around the tops of her thighs, creating tight loops that gave her ass the same bulging taught sensation as her breasts. Sarah only wrapped the rope once to let the cord bite into her. Pulling the ends tight, she wrapped the ends around to the front and tied the remainder of the ends into a tight knot joining the intersection of her rope bikini. The ends hung down and brushed against her thighs, almost annoying. Good. An involuntary little gasp erupted from Sarah’s throat and it actually startled her a bit. Time to fix that, she thought. Another reach into the box produced a web of thin leather straps with a red rubber ball secured amongst them. As if ordered, Sarah slipped the ball between her lips and forced it between her teeth. As her jaw relaxed into position, she felt how her mouth closed very little and the ball filled the gape of jaw quite tightly. The straps were pulled over her hair and she laughed a little to herself as she realized how the head harness was already well fitted from her last foray. She buckled the strap at the back of her head and pulled the chin straps a notch tighter. The ball suddenly felt as much a part of her head as her tongue or her nose, over which a tight strap met with a single ring that pulled another strap tightly down on her head. She groaned into the gag, as if ordering it to leave, but little more that a grunt at the back of her throat could be heard. And by whom? The gag remained, unrelenting, and no one else would hear her cries. A pair of Fury handcuffs emerged from the box, a matched set to the restraints clinking on her ankles, and Sarah carefully hung them around the intersection the crotch rope made over her ass. The cuffs were pulled up under her waist rope and on either side of the rope emerging from her ass, placed so they could not be pulled one way or the other (unless she wanted cut herself in half. The rope felt like it was half way there already). She sidled her hips from side to side, the crotch rope digging and stroking with each twist. Her breasts shimmied very little this time as the rope that enveloped them pulled them tight and immobile. Her chained feet took tentative steps, each one accompanied by the bite of rope and a tingle of excitement. The handcuffs hanging on her ass bounced and jingled with a little slap with each step she took. The two final items she plucked from the box were a small Velcro cable strap with a plastic loop and a favorite little jewel that she had forsaken for quite some time. Sarah had experimented with and enjoyed, to varying degrees, all sorts of nipple clamps. But hands down, the clover clamps were her favorite. And tonight she would reintroduce herself to them in grand style. They were to be the centerpiece of her bondage, the linchpin from which, if she could not escape, she would be helpless for a long time. She had, during previous self-imposed predicaments, fastened her limbs to various immovable, ensnaring anchor points. But tonight, the jailer was feeling particularly clever and sadistic. She stepped slowly into her bathroom, the final stretch toward her prison. She caught a sudden glance of herself in the mirror. Not at once did she think this silly or dangerous. She felt incredibly aroused, and every curve she relished earlier in the hallway mirror was infinitely more sexy wrapped in tight rope or ringed with metal shackles. Sarah’s heart and stomach were in full flutter, and the bathroom mirror got a full show as she gave all of her trussing a good test to see how well it was enveloping her soft delicate flesh. Her tits barely moved and her crotch rope seemed to find new uncharted depths. The whole rig was maddening, and all Sarah wanted to do was reach under the crotch rope and break the tension, but alas it was too late. Her sentenced had been handed down, the jailer had prepped her incarceration and no governor was calling to grant her a stay of “execution.” She turned and faced her cell, the slim unimposing shower stall that had greeted her first thing every morning. For all the showers she had taken in there, she could never full understand what the little bar embedded in the shower wall was for. Chest height, only an inch or so of clearance from the wall. It was convenient to hang onto for balance occasionally and before she switched to a bath sponge, was suitable for her washcloth. The frosted glass door was a nice touch, and it always closed with a satisfying click. Tonight, that would be the sound of her cage door. Sarah stepped over the threshold of the shower door, and her feet immediately found the cold remnants of her wash this morning. Little puddles all over the floor made her prison that much less inviting (or more?) and the chain of her shackles clacked loudly against the hard plastic of the stall floor. The sound was a constant reminder of her restraints, and the thought that others outside of her cell might hear the noise unsettled her. Again, no matter, there was nothing she could do about it. And what if a fellow apartment dweller came to investigate the sound? What would they find? Sarah suddenly wished she knew her neighbors a little better. The door closed behind her with that satisfying click, as if the door seal that kept water from leaking out of the shower was also sealing her in. Her breath was long and heavy through her nose and the tight coils around her chest continued to constrict. Sarah took the short Velcro cable strap and caught the chain of the clamps within it and then wrapped it around the short bar embedded in the stall wall. The strap ran through the plastic loop on one end and then doubled over on itself to form a strong, tight ring around the bar. She gave the clamps a firm tug and realized how strong Velcro was, the strap did not move. Taking a moment to work a little courage, Sarah centered the the clamps between the strap. With a trembling hand, she leaned in close to the wall and slipped her right nipple between the open jaw of the clamp. She gently released the mechanism and the clamp went from closing around her nipple to squeezing to trying to make the two halves of the jaw touch. God these things are tight, she thought. She made quick work of her left nipple before she chickened out, and with a gentle hand, gave both short chains a quick pull to seal the deal. The clamps dug in and the direct connection she imagined she had from her nipples to her clit kicked in. A dampness was definitely forming between her legs, and a raw sensation against the crotch rope was quickly becoming noticeable. The rush of the pressure on her delicate tips forced a gasp in her throat, and she put her hands against the wall to steady herself. A few tears ran from her eyes as the sexy rush became the sharp ache she was looking for. She came back to earth and realized how close she would have to stand to the wall, even her toes were practically touching the wall. This was going to be precarious. The jailer was growing impatient. The prisoner was nearly fully restrained and ready for her stay. With inelegant gruffness, Sarah’s wrists were swung behind her back, forced into the cuffs, and the cold steel ratchets were clasped shut around them. She gave the the cuffs a test and the pull against her pussy felt very sure. Sarah considered what she just did. The key to those cuffs was a room away, close enough. All she had to do was free herself from the clamps, whose continuous pressure on her nipples seemed to grow more intense every second. A little wave of fear ran through her and she instinctively tried to reach around to free herself from the wall. Her rope work was solid and she rewarded herself with another hard dig against her pussy. A gasp tried to escape through her gag and for the first time tonight, the “mmmph” it created scared her. No one would hear her cries. And no one was coming to rescue her. If Sarah was going to escape, she was going to have endure the torture she imagined for herself. She would have to pull her nipples out of the clamps that tightened the more she pulled or she would be trapped; naked, bound and helpless. ...

continues from part one Part Two The last orgasm took it’s toll and Sarah slumped forward against the wall, mashing her bound breasts against the wall, her nipples still throbbing. As the the waves ebbed, she tried again to grind her pussy into submission and pique its interest, but exhaustion was setting in too quickly and her head became dizzy. Without opening her eyes, she did her best to plant the balls of her feet into a position that would support her while leaning without a lot of effort, but the floor of the shower stall was now quick slick, and her momentary toe holds would quickly give out as her feet would start to slide slowly out from under her. It was becoming an exercise just to keep her legs under her. She had often masturbated right before bed and found a quick rub to be the thing to get her tired and off to dreamland. Now, Sarah had just experienced her third orgasm in succession, and the fatigue that was setting in was overwhelming. She felt as if she would black out. Her knees began to tremble and the power to hold herself against the wall was quickly flowing away. She had to act. With one defiant try, she arched her back slightly and rocked herself away from the cold plastic. Her sway back was abruptly stopped as her tits reached full extension and the chain of the clamps snapped taut. The sensation she experienced with that move was far worse than anything she felt prior to her ecstasy as the surge of adrenaline and dopamine had since subsided. The sudden jolt brought Sarah out of her stupor and an involuntary scream died as a grunt in her throat as the gag continued to keep her silent. The bite of the clamps seemed to escalate with each muffled breath as the pain in her nipples reached heretofore unknown levels. The coils of rope began to rub her raw above and below, as did the cuffs on her wrists and ankles, but the clamps delivered agony an order of magnitude beyond these as the sensation wavered between a fiery sting and a constant, intense ache. She instinctively attempted to bring her arms to the front again and slip the cursed things off, but her wrists, now overly sensitive as they pressed against their snug metal rings, reminder her that there was a specific order to be followed here. Sarah glanced down again at her little captors and fresh warm saliva spilled onto her tits; the lusty, animalistic rush the drooling gave her earlier quickly becoming a humiliating mess she wished she could stop. The clamps stared back at her with a shining silvery wink, unmoved at all from their starting position, as dug in as before. Any remnant of the pleasure she felt a few minutes before was gone, and the real pain she was feeling in her limbs and her stomach, the sticky cold sensation of her natural dew drying on her skin, capped with the sight and agony of her nipples inextricably sealed in the clamps came to a head, and big tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes as sobs arrived uncontrollably in her throat, the sound of them muffled by the gag wedged in her aching jaw only making her feel worse. The tears ran down her cheeks and quickly mingled with the damp glaze on her tits. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against the wall, again assuming the balancing dance that the lean incurred. Her chest throbbed and heaved with stuttered gasps as she cried harder, tears streaming from her cheeks directly to the shower floor, landing with hollow little thuds in the silence, broken only by her whimpering. Her watery eyes peered down at her nipples, and the fluttering in her stomach that powered her arousal earlier had returned, accompanied by the sense of hopelessness that drove her fantasy. But this time it came from a feeling of panic and dread. What was she going to do? Even if Sarah had any courage left to pull against her restraints (which was long gone), it didn’t matter if they would not budge from their duty. These clamps seemed as inescapable as her handcuffs or shackles; unyielding, permanent without their keys. The last thought made her stomach do a full flip-flop and the queasy sensation only added to her helplessness. Her eyes welled up again, and just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, a new realization dawned on her. The intense force of her orgasms had been replaced by a slowly building pressure in her bladder. Sarah had to pee. At first, it didn’t seem to be imminent, but her deep sobs had pushed her closer to the edge and the urge to relieve herself, while not immediate, was now constant. She told herself she would not think about it, but that soon became an exercise in futility. The harder she though about it, the more acute the sensation became. She even gave the nipple clamps a good yank to try and distract herself. The shock of pain helped momentarily, but the gasp she produced only added another notch on the pressure gauge. She wondered if she could somehow break or shred her crotch rope with the handcuff chain to try and give herself more movement, but she quickly realized that everything was well beyond that point; her wrists were too far chapped to struggle with, the crotch rope was too soaked through with sweat to tear and shred and if she pulled on it anymore, she would probably just squeeze the urine right out of her. She began to moderate her breathing, slowing it down to try and relax. The clamps kept challenging her calm and any zen she tried to attain met with some distraction. She shifted her weight and brought her feet together, hoping to somehow reinforce the dam. The metal shackles on her ankles clanked against each other and she stood stone still, focusing all of her effort. But her new stance proved flawed as she found she lost her balance faster, and it was only with a quick shift of her feet to a wider stance that she was able to head off the imminent nipple yanking. The chain snapped taut, but only just as she just caught herself, and a high pitched squeak bounced off of the inside of her gag. Legs again spread for balance, Sarah marked time by how much everything hurt now as opposed to some time ago. She had no idea what time it was nor how long she stood in her self-imposed prison. She wondered how much more she could take of this, but quickly shook the thought off as it raised her panic level. There was no end here. She couldn’t imagine dying like this, but how could she go on? This was torture, slow and methodical, and she realized she would probably go crazy before anything else. The thought lingered in her head a moment and the wave of hopelessness she batted down before swelled back up in full force, and tears ran down her cheeks and tits as sobs once again caused her body to convulse uncontrollably. Her stomach had a full stone it it and the movement only highlighted the tenderness of the skin under her bondage. Worse yet, this round of sobs finally force the bladder issue front and center and Sarah felt as if she would burst if she didn’t let it go. Despite every indignity she forced upon herself this night, she winced at the thought of relieving herself in this manner. She never dared considered urinating a part of her sex life, it was something you did after sex, after the knots came loose and the gag popped out, part of the pleasure of release. She could never have imagined being trapped in her own bondage rigging, desperate to relieve herself. But then again she never imagined being trapped quite like this before. Her head turned slightly from side to side and she realized she WAS in a shower, a room with a dedicated floor drain. Where else would a civilized person do such a thing? Then again, what civilized person would be naked, bound, chained, gagged and clamped of their own accord? She pushed these quandaries out of her head and slowed her breathing. She relaxed as much as she could. The stream would simply hit the wall and flow down into the drain, simple. Once she got passed this little obstacle, she could get on with the real problems at hand. Her body relaxed and the first trickle dripped forth. Within a few moments, the trickle became a torrent. But the neat little stream she imagined didn’t take into account the tight cords of rope wrapped around her cunt and legs, forming a web that stood directly in the path of the flow. Urine surged out, sputtering and splattering against the crotch rope, and a spray of warm, acrid secretion gushed out in all directions like a fire sprinkler. A deluge of hot liquid streamed down her legs and pooled around her shackled feet, now covered in a fine mist. Sarah shouted into her gag, as if ordering her bladder to stop out loud. She tried to hold it in and stop the flow, but the urge was too great and she found herself out of control of yet another part of her body. For a moment, the indignity was outmatched by the warm, tingly sense of relief that she so desperately sought and a satisfied hum formed in her throat. The stream seemed to flow for minutes and the bottom of the shower was awash in a pale yellow film that seeped its way to the drain. But the damage was done, and she snapped back to reality as she realized she was soaked from crotch to toe, her legs raw and wet, small drops of urine rolled down her ankles sneaking past the shackles. In fact, she realized, she was soaked top to bottom, her hair was damp with sweat, her face and chest coated in tears and saliva, lubricant and urine from the waist down. She was a mess and her degradation and despair hit a new low. The shower floor was slick and her various effluence commingled into a slimy, unavoidable puddle under her bare feet. She was standing in a toilet and it started to smell that way too. While trying to ease the pressure on her wrists, it occurred to Sarah that to get the key to release herself, she would have to track the “milk” of her travails across her floors and carpets into the bedroom to the nightstand. The thought made her a little angry and she wondered for a moment if she could shower herself off while still bound, another first. While considering the options, her right foot slipped a little from its purchase and she found herself growling into her gag once again, tears flowing from the corners of her clenched eyes, as the clamps, still firmly gripping her tender skin, applied their talents as she slipped down. ...

He never really knew what to expect whenever he walked into that condo. Two young women shared the condo, and he had connections to them both. As he walked up to the door, he reflected on the two women inside, Geri and Mariah. Geri was his current girlfriend. She was 19, tall, thin, shoulder-length flaming red hair, and could screw like a horse. She was a little small in the chest area, but she was great to be around, and she loved him desperately, almost too desperately. He seemed to attract girls like that to him, and he knew he generally tended to use them until one or the other wandered away from the relationship. Right now, the sex was incredible, and she was real good for his ego, and other things. ...

This is how I met my girlfriend. She is a very fun loving girl, caring, and loves to enjoy life. We have been dating for a couple years now, and marrying once we both are out of college. One question everyone ask us is how we met, mostly we just say we met at a club and sat next to each other at the bar. That is not the truth of the matter, we did sit next to each other at a bar, but that was the night, after we met. How we really met is a much more interesting story, that we have kept secret for the years. ...

“No,” Aimee whispered, her eyes wide with horror as she stared at the contraption before her. “Calm down,” David said, “and lets talk about this.” Aimee looked up at the man that she called “Master.” The height difference that usually made her feel safe and secure was turning ugly with every passing moment. His looming presence was feeling more like an ogre from legend than a saint. At just under six feet, David was not a tall man, but he still towered over her by at least a foot. ...

So there I was. A hot Arizona sun beating down and a whole afternoon full of… nothing. Just me. And my thoughts. Of course the first thing I thought about was sleep. But then that nagging creature-like thought entered my brain and gave me the endorphins I’ve felt under lock and key and knots twisted and tied tightly. Unable to escape, or just waiting for the clock to run out and release me. ...

Well today is a day off for me. The sun is shinning and the temperature is finally warm enough to be outside. The last of the snow in my back yard has melted. I took out two wood pallets and laid them on the patio right beside the privacy fence. I went back into the house and took off all my clothes. I put on my wrist cuffs and locked them. Next I grabbed two ice release bottles. One an 8 oz bottle, the other a 12 oz bottle, both with a string attached to a key at the bottom of the bottle, both with measured amounts of water and both very frozen. Taking three 1" nylon web straps, like the ones you use on backpack, a 12’ length of chain, 2 padlocks and a blindfold, I headed outside. I positioned my release devices close to where my hands would be. I had arranged my back yard so that no one could see me, however if you peek over the fence and look straight down you could see everything. ...

The rest stop was on a quiet stretch of freeway just outside the city. Over the years the edge of town had moved ever closer and nearly overtaken the place, almost no one ever stopped there anymore. It was only a few more minutes until you reached town. I pulled my car into the rest stop turned the engine off and snapping out the lights. At three AM the only light came from the few lamps posted around the rest stop, and the glow of the freeway traffic on the other side of the swaying trees. Sitting in my car I watched the parking lot until I was satisfied that I was the only person around. ...

All this began when I found a magazine lying in a ditch on the lane near my parents house when I was 15. This kinda scared me, that people actually did this sort of thing, so I just hide the magazine, forgetting about it for two or three years until I was clearing out a box in my room. Looking through it I wandered what is was like to be held captive like they were in the pictures, totally helpless at the mercy of whoever came along. I had been handcuffed before by a previous boyfriend and it was kind of exciting, but not for long, I wanted more, unfortunately he didn’t. ...

This is a New Years day ritual that you won’t see on TV. It is like the polar bear ritual where people gather near dawn and swim out around a buoy in cold ocean water. The Petersons shut down the heat on their pool the day after Christmas so the water will be very cold on New Years day. It’s Southern California so the cold is not too unbearable. There are a dozen couples now that do this traditional dip in the cold water each year. Ours is a little different than others as we are bound hand and foot naked. ...

I am 30 year old male. I have been married for a year. My wife Jess was not aware of my passion for bondage yet, but I have a plan to change that. Jess had to go to her job for a few hours. For the past week I have been working on some stuff in my workshop. Now was the time to use them. She was going to be gone for about two hours. I first put a note on the kitchen table where I knew she would find it. It stated: ...

I am 30 year old male. I have been married for a year. My wife Jess was not aware of my passion for bondage yet, but I have a plan to change that. Jess had to go to her job for a few hours. For the past week I have been working on some stuff in my workshop. Now was the time to use them. She was going to be gone for about two hours. I first put a note on the kitchen table where I knew she would find it. It stated: ...

This was bad. Really bad. And the worst part was knowing it was my own fault. Have a backup release, went the advice. Be careful. But no, I had to do it all wrong. No backup release. In a public place, or at least not a controlled location. I liked trees, and being tied to them. And being naked. Yeah, I got all that, and better get used to it. ...

Lisa sighed as she rinsed yet another dish. When would she ever learn? she asked herself. With three failures to her credit, you’d think she’d have given up. But no, here she was for number four. Some time back, Lisa had taken a long look at herself. Her desire to please others, the warm feeling she got when she knew she’d made someone happy. These things, and others, had convinced her, after some judicious web surfing, that she was submissive. With that in mind, she’d set out to find herself a Master. After all, what good is a sub without a Master to serve? ...

I heard my husband Ron come home from his trip to the strip bar. I had sent him there alone as a birthday present. I knew it was him because he was whistling a happy song as he came in and walked up behind me while I prepared some potatoes over the sink. I felt him press his chest into my back and I could feel his raging hardon pressing into my lower back. As my husband reached around my neck I could feel something silky soft being placed on me as a “snap” sound resounded from the clasp of whatever he had just placed on me. “Honey your dream has come true. Remember that guy I told you about that does magic tricks on stage with the strippers? Well I got to talking to him and I told him about your secret desire to be a sex slave, and the difficulty you have role-playing as one. I told him how you want to be out of control and to be made to do anything you are instructed to do without thinking twice. Well for $20 he gave me this silk necklace that I just put on you, and it’s magical!” ...

I climbed in my car and drove home, tomorrow is my birthday, and I had booked a day off, as I turned in to Abby road I could see a large delivery van outside my house. As I drew up the driver was just coming out of my drive, “Hi miss, we had a delivery for you and we had instructions to place it in your garage if you where not in, Would you like to sign here.” At that he handed a pen and the clip board holding the delivery note to me. ...

Julie would never have gotten caught if she had thought about the system backups. And I never would have done anything about it if she hadn’t lied to me about messing with my machine. I work for Julie’s father, or I should say I am a one-fourth partner with her father in a candle factory. We specialize in “hand dipped” candles. Actually it is only the outer two or three layers of colored wax that are hand dipped. The rest is done by a machine which I invented. We supply these “hand dipped cores” to a wide variety of small candle companies throughout the United States and Canada. ...

What follows is simple fiction. Any resemblance to people, or places was purely by accident. Mary stepped in the door and kicked off her shoes. Locking the front door she laughed, ‘I have the apartment to myself, Kathy won’t be home for hours’. The boss let her out early and her room-mate couldn’t get out of the office today. ‘Good,’ she thought, ‘for what I’m doing I don’t need spectators’. She had the entire afternoon to play without interruptions. ‘I haven’t played with my things in months, there just isn’t enough privacy with a room-mate around’. ...

As college exams were over and most folk would be away on vacation we decided that there would be no UniTies Bondage Club meeting in December. So I organised for some of the girls to come round to my place for the evening for a few pre-Christmas drinks and to indulge in a few tie-up games. Everyone was to bring along as much rope and bondage gear as they could manage – added what I already had that should be enough to keep us entertained for quite a few hours. ...

I was sitting at my computer when Hank came up to me, wrapping his arms around my chest and pressing his muzzle against the back of my ears. His breath was warm on my fur & teased my ears. His arms were strong, held tight under my chest and he had the smell of trash lingering over him. No surprise as he was a garbage man. It was how we met in fact. ...

As usual in the morning yesterday, my husband cuddled against me as he started to stir, but this morning would be a little different. I snuck off to the bathroom, freshened up, brushed my teeth and my hair, and snuck back into bed. I had decided what I wanted as soon as I woke and felt his hardness pressing innocently into my back; I wanted to have a day of fun! I told my husband exactly what I wanted; for him to make me do anything HE wanted all day long and I didn’t want to have to leave the house, that was pretty much the last thing I did yesterday, that I had not been ordered to do. ...

A Halloween Special 2007 Tale Halloween, What memories that conjures up for me! It is also known as ‘All Saint’s Day’. When the dead are said to walk the earth; it is nearly a year and peace has reigned in our family since then. I will explain. It was a year ago on Halloween; I took a year out from studying and decided to visit my aunt in a backwater town in the United States. She had often phoned to say she would like me to visit her. She is my favorite aunt. We were upset when her husband got killed when the mountain road gave out after a storm and his car slid down a bank. Local kids made her life a misery by taunting her and other old people calling them witches and warlocks and threatening to burn them at the stake. Nothing could be further from the truth with my Aunt Pauline. That may be her trouble. She is too friendly and trusting. I do not know. ...

In a recent post, after discussing a packaging session I felt was tame, Bondage Princess jokingly wondered what the “worst” I could do was. Before that, I had been debating whether I would post tales of the truly extreme things that I have done. I debated this because, in part, while I have preached safety throughout my posts, those truly extreme things from my past were not entirely safe. They were in fact, quite reckless and irresponsible, even though I had worked to make them as safe as possible at the time. Secondly, they did not involve my wife, and I wanted to emphasize the things that we do together and for each other, rather than the things that I’ve done with others. ...

“Come on, Amanda! It will just be for today, and not even for that long!” Sherri’s voice took on an almost pleading tone as she widened her eyes with a mixture of hope and apprehension. Clasping her hands together in front of her chest, Sherri looked up towards Amanda, not letting up for an instant, “Besides, you agreed to it already, and you’re the only one I’d trust with this!” Amanda couldn’t help but feel herself slowly giving grounds to Sherri’s heartfelt pleads. Sherri had been her roommate for over two years now, and in that time, she had quickly learned of Sherri’s skill at negotiating matters so she got what she wanted. Even still, it hadn’t stopped Amanda and Sherri from becoming fast and close friends, and had led to a few interesting nights between the both of them; generally due to Sherri’s insistence and fantasies, from bondage to a bit of sexual play, generally with Sherri asking to be tied up or used in some way. ...

I for some reason have been into bondage in one form or another for most of my life, when I was a child and we used to play cowboys and Indians, I was always the one who was tied up as the prisoner. I got so good at escaping it became a sort of contest to see if any one could tie me up to see if I could not escape, and for some reason as I grew older I did not grow out of it but grew into it in a strange sort of way. ...

At college Leanne and I had become close friends. She was tall and always immaculately dressed. In addition she had a figure that men would drool over and shoulder length naturally wavy auburn hair that would have not seemed out of place in any L’Oreal commercial. She was great company but men found her a bit of a challenge, as she was extremely brainy (she graduated with two degrees – one in computer science and the other an honours in economics). But what seemed to put men off more than her being more intelligent than they were was that she had a slight hair lip. So all you’ve been told about men only being attracted by tits and bums is a lot of rot – the face is the most important asset a girl has. ...

My first time, truth or fiction??? I had been living with my boyfriend for about 6 months and we were now very comfortable with each other. We are both into the bsdm lifestyle so it was not uncommon for us to tie each other up. One night, Mike came up to me and asked if he could be tied up and then hidden someplace where there was a risk that he might be discovered. He said, “It would be a rush to be hidden without people knowing that I was there, yet still have the risk of being caught.” I thought about it for a second and then said, “OK, what do you have in mind?” Besides, this has the potential to be a real fun time for both of us. Mike said, “You know that it is girls night out tomorrow?” I said, “Yesssss and?” “Welllll, what do you think would happen if one of them accidentally found me?” he asked all shy like. “I think that they would turn red at first and then laugh their asses off once they got over the initial shock. Most of my friends enjoy the bondage thing, so I would consider them more enlightened than some other people might.” I replied. Besides I thought, depending on how he wants to get tied up, and it was usually naked, this could turn out to be a lot of fun for all of us. “Ok” he said, “I think that I can handle if some of your friends think that I am a little weird.” “They already know that!” I laughed. “So where do you want to hide in this spacious condo?” I asked. “Well I thought that I might hide in the garbage since we don’t have any other suitably large enough hiding spots.” I laughed as I looked over at the small white kitchen garbage can we had and said, “Sorry honey, but I don’t think that your going to fit in there” “Actually, I have thought about that.” he said as he walked over to the kitchen sink. He bent down and opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a box of garbage bags. I laughed, “You’ve been thinking about this for awhile haven’t you?” I quipped. “Uh-huh” he said with that smile he has. “Ok, have you thought about the fact that people suffocate in plastic bags?” I asked with some concern in my voice. He replied, “I have thought about that, so you might have your work cut out for you, but I don’t think so. If for some reason you have to tie the garbage bag closed, take both ends of the garbage bag and tie them in a granny knot. Just leave a hole in the middle like this.” he demonstrated. “I will be able to get enough air through that hole.” “How do you know?” I asked with a smile on my face. “I tried it out to make sure that it would be safe for me before I asked you.” he replied. “What if they throw dirty, stinky garbage on you?” I ask. “Part of the price to pay for the thrill of hiding.” he said. I reached over and grabbed his crouch. “And so what part of this idea got you all excited? The garbage being dumped on you or the hiding?” I asked. “A bit of both.” he replied, “Cause if they are throwing garbage on me, then that means that I am successfully hiding and they don’t even know it.” “Sex?” I asked thinking that since he has such a nice hard-on and he wants something from me, so I get to have whatever kind of sex I want tonight. The next morning he woke me up with a smile on his face and said, “Remember, I get to hide tonight!” with excitement in his face and voice. “Yea, yea” I replied still trying to wake up after a good nights sleep. “Just make sure your home before I start cooking supper, cause once I have started getting supper and the condo ready for the girls I don’t want to stop and hide you.” I stated with a stern voice. “No problem, I’ll be there with bells on,” he cheerfully replied. “No bells, they make too much noise.” I said as I laughed. I had just gotten home from work and walked into the condo to see Mike sitting there on the couch with a smile on his face. He quipped, “Look no bells on!” “Oh yea, I had forgotten about that part.” I said, “You get ready and get your stuff while I go get out of my work clothes.” He quickly walked over to all the windows and closed the drapes on all of them. Next he ran into the bedroom with me, stripped down naked almost as fast as he does when I offer sex. Then he ran out into the kitchen and opened the box of garbage bags and took one out. Next I heard the closet door open and the sound of another bag hitting the floor. I came out of the bedroom to see Mike standing there, buck naked, with a huge smile on his face next to a garbage bag full of something and holding a new garbage bag in his hand. Next he began to unfold the garbage bag, which took a lot longer than I thought because this garbage bag was huge. He saw the surprise in my face at the size of the garbage bag and stated, “These are the garbage bags they use for construction. They are thick and big to hold lots of heavy garbage.” “I don’t doubt that.” I replied, “So how do you want to do this?” I asked. He got down on the floor sitting with his knees held tight against his chest. “First, wrap me up with a layer of saran wrap,” he stated, “Then take the duct tape and wrap it around me to hold me in this fetal position.” he said. After I had done that he rolled onto his back and said, “Now take the garbage bag and slide it underneath me and then lift it up so that I am lying on the bottom of the bag with my back on the floor.” Again with some difficulty I performed the task he asked of me. “Now what?” I asked. “Well you can open that other bag of garbage and dump in on me so that if your friends look in the garbage bag all they see is garbage and not me.” he said. “Do you know that you are going to be in there a long, long time? Cause us girls have a supper and a chick flick and then whatever else comes up, going on tonight. You might be in there till tomorrow.” I stated. “What if there is so much garbage that I need to start another bag? Don’t you think that they might get suspicious if I don’t throw out the full bag?” I asked. “Well, I knew that I was going to be in here for a long time which is why I wanted to lay on my back. I have already gone to the bathroom so I can make it till tomorrow morning. And if you have to throw me out in the garbage dumpster, the garbage truck does not come till Wed. so you can come let me out tomorrow morning.” he replied. “Just remember to leave that hole so I can breath.” “Anything else?” I asked. “Nope, I think that I’m good to go.” he stated. “Ok, but first I have one more thing to add.” I said. I walked away to the bedroom leaving him there in the garbage bag all tied up. I came back with a ball gag and smiled at him down at the bottom of the garbage bag. He was a little crunched up with his head on his chest but surprisingly he actually fit in this huge bag. I rustled the bag down past his head and said, “Open wide! I don’t want any unnecessary noise coming from the garbage tonight.” ...

The plant was dark and silent. Jamie frowned as she made her way through the production area. As production manager, she always made it a point to go through after the plant’s single shift had left for the day, making sure all the equipment was properly shut down. Not that there was much to check. The plant was a small operation, making custom stands and hangers. Thus, the only real equipment consisted of saws and drills, benders and shapers. And the wrapper. ...

The trouble with thinking of bondage is it makes you want to try it, And when I think of all the ways I have been bound over the years, I think there must be one new way I have not tried yet. I think for it to be totally successful it has to be with a well trusted friend or partner, its not some thing I would ever try with a total stranger, as the dangers are staring you in the face if it goes wrong, as it must have for some unfortunate submissive out there. ...

Harry was worried about being seen. He had spotted the massage parlour a long time ago and from “whispers” knew it was a cover for a brothel. He always thought they should be legal. Better that than having a woman raped. But now, he had not had sex for a year. He needed relief. He walked up and down the street and even went around the block. Harry took notice of all the shops along the road. Grocers, hairdressers, the massage parlour, sweetshop, chemists, and a few odds and ends of shops. ...

Writer’s Note. I am a practicing Bondage Domina living in Brisbane, Australia. My adventures in Bondage Domination are recorded elsewhere on the internet so I won’t be adding to those on this site. Anyone who practices Self-Bondage knows the difficulty in ensuring one’s safety. Much has been written along these lines. Within Gromet’s web-site are many articles and stories about what can go wrong with even the best laid plans. I know many of these are works of fiction, but then again, many are factual. The only truly 100% safe and foolproof method is having someone to whom you can rely on to set you free if all else fails. What follows is the story of how I can now safely indulge my passion for severe self-bondage and know, if something does happen to go wrong, salvation is at hand due to the person to whom, I have given Absolute Trust. ...

This story is a follow on from Mistress Melinda’s tale “Absolute Trust” I am writing this at the request of my neighbour. The title is her request but I am not sure why. She told me all would soon become clear and I have been given an e-mail address to send the piece to. I have to admit; curiosity has gotten the better of me so here goes. What happens is my account of a situation I recently found myself in. I suppose the best place to start is some background. I’m 49YO but I keep fit by competing in Masters Athletics as a runner. I have been happily married for 26 odd years, have 4 children ranging in ages from the oldest, a girl, 18, next, another girl, 16, yet another girl, 12 and my son, age 8. I’ve managed to have a pretty good life in spite of being financially challenged for most of it. I work 2 jobs, full time professional driver all week and do retail sales on most weekends. I know, it’s not an ideal existence but we are doing it for the children. Not being in a situation where buying our own home is possible, we are forced to rent. That means, we often have to move. Our last move saw us living as neighbours to a lovely young lady called Melinda. ...

This is my first story and is actually a true experience. The dream seemed to repeat itself over many nights, indeed over many years. There were a lot of variations, but all the dreams had a common theme of me being wrapped up tight in what appeared to be some sort of clear plastic. Some times this was like bandages wound over and over until there was nothing of me left unwrapped. Other times it was like I was in some sort of plastic bag that had been shrunk tightly over me. I looked and felt like a supermarket chicken. ...

“Now that explains a lot of things!” exclaimed Mandy as we sat in the sun on the steps of the College Library. “What does?” I asked. “Dreary’s Dad’s a holy man.” She replied pointing to a middle-aged man in Salvation Army uniform who was walking across the Green with Deirdre Macklin - a girl in our year who had the nickname Dreary. As the pair of them looked so alike and had the same walk there was little doubt that the man was either her father or some close relation. ...

I hid behind a boulder in the forest and listened for the rumble of an approaching garbage truck. A hundred yards away I could see the bright yellow trash bag sitting by the side of the road. When the garbage truck came by, as it almost always did at this time of day, they would probably see the bag and, assuming it was trash, take it with them. There was a chance they wouldn’t come by today, or not see it, or not want to stop to pick it up. If that happened I would go back and retrieve the bag, which contained my clothes and sandals, and not go through with this adventure. But if they did…. ...

She met me at the door of her apartment. Dressed in leather pants and a leather top with black leather riding boots, she looked down on me with contempt in her eyes. “Enter,” she told me. I followed her to the back room. She sat on her ottoman and ordered me to strip. After several verbal assaults on my body, she told me to kneel in front of her and lick her boots. After several minutes of boot licking, she rose and commanded me to remain on the floor. She returned wearing a 10 inch black dildo strapped to her waist. I gasped and starred at the massive phallus. Sensing the terror in my eyes she laughed and said, “You’ll take every inch of it.” ...