<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Pony on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/pony/</link><description>Recent content in Pony on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 20:13:47 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/pony/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Timelooper</title><link>/stories/2020/09/12/timelooper/</link><pubDate>Sat, 12 Sep 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/09/12/timelooper/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="chapter-one---the-marsden-mansion"&gt;CHAPTER ONE - The Marsden Mansion&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;David DeAngelo walked slowly into the elaborately-restored ballroom of the Marsden Mansion. Doctor Victor Marsden was very rich and more than a little eccentric– though some people would use the word kinky rather than eccentric. Rumors of his parties had swirled around the small town of Pattersonville for the sixty years he had owned Marsden Mansion, once called the Patterson Estate.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Pattersons founded a town around their mill in the late 1800&amp;rsquo;s and named it after themselves. They soon became immensely wealthy. The second generation built a huge country estate back in the 1920s. The roaring twenties were an era when rich people showed off their money. It was also an era built on inflated property and stock values. The Pattersons went bust in the crash of ‘29 and the estate fell into ruin.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Captured Couple</title><link>/stories/2020/08/04/captured-couple/</link><pubDate>Tue, 04 Aug 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/08/04/captured-couple/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Rod and Diane have been married for 10 years. Diane is 32 years old and has been the perfect housewife, always supporting her husband. Diane is a petite woman 5 foot 3 inches, slim body and silky, red hair. Rod has also been a good husband, with a good career yet a secret job which he could not tell his wife about. Rod works for the government as an agent that investigates foreign criminals and spies. His job was very rewarding, highly paid but also very dangerous since many foreign spies would want his government information and even get revenge.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Umphf!</title><link>/stories/2020/04/25/umphf/</link><pubDate>Sat, 25 Apr 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/04/25/umphf/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The car was a lot bigger close up I noticed as I hurried up to it. I don’t drive, failed my test three times during my home-based gap year and gave up trying after that. Total loss of confidence coupled with a general disinterest I suppose, but then that does sum up my driving plus a lack of interest in motor vehicles. I had never felt much at ease behind the wheel, and that evidently came across to the examiners, that and the numerous errors I always made.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Susan</title><link>/stories/2019/12/04/susan/</link><pubDate>Wed, 04 Dec 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/12/04/susan/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;This story is set in the same world as Ultimate Challenge, but comes from a different point of view.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At the age of 22, Susan Harper inherited an isolated farm in the middle of Dartmoor from her only relative, an uncle. When she had arrived at the place, she found that there were no crops in the fields, no livestock and no workers, so she immediately thought about selling the place. However, the solicitors dealing with her uncle’s estate had told her that, due to environmental policies, the owner received a large grant from the government to keep the land fallow and uncultivated. When she did the math, Susan realised that she would be financially better off keeping the farm and staying there.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Extreme Equestrienne</title><link>/stories/2015/03/13/extreme-equestrienne/</link><pubDate>Fri, 13 Mar 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/03/13/extreme-equestrienne/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Paul had been seeing a councillor for a few months and had grown to trust Mrs Atkins. He had share with her his most personal issues. At 35 he was still a virgin and had become addicted to internet porn and needed some help to change and move on. His most powerful fetishes were older women and having his own body modified. He was sure his TV fetishes were just a fantasy which would be best left in his imagination.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>School for Lesbian Subs</title><link>/stories/2014/07/18/school-for-lesbian-subs/</link><pubDate>Fri, 18 Jul 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/07/18/school-for-lesbian-subs/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="schoolforlesbiansubs.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;School for Lesbian Subs&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We emerged from the stall and stopped.
Mistress Tania was standing before us, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘What kept you?’&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She seemed to notice the moisture around Emma’s lips and then smiled, ‘ahh, I see. Put her with the others and then wait for me.’&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Emma lead me around to the back of the stable to a waist high rail where all the others were tied, bent over.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Castaway</title><link>/stories/2013/11/20/castaway/</link><pubDate>Wed, 20 Nov 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/11/20/castaway/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Pain was the first word that that popped into her head&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The second word was alive.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Georgina O’Keefe eyes opened. She was in a hospital.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Michael. Where was Michael?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Over half her body was in a cast. From waist down to her toes where encased in in plaster. If she could see her toes. It looked like her feet where enclosed in a blob of plaster. Neck was in a cervical collar, hand and arms where also immobilized in plaster casts. She felt like the mummy that had been hit by a train. She was either covered in plaster or bandages.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Pony Up</title><link>/stories/2012/06/29/pony-up/</link><pubDate>Fri, 29 Jun 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/06/29/pony-up/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;There were always little rituals to be observed and even the smallest of goals to be achieved in the space of a day. They were the routines and the mental talismans that kept Hannah’s overactive brain in check and allowed her to manage the obsessive nature of her thoughts from one hour to the next without spinning out of control. Deprived of their comfort and familiar nature she was often scared to imagine what might happen to the complicated interior world that was her own mind.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 13</title><link>/stories/2012/06/29/the-bronze-horse-13/</link><pubDate>Fri, 29 Jun 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/06/29/the-bronze-horse-13/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse12.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse 12&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 13&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The next morning Mato and Minnie were getting me ready for the trip into town. Fred came up and said “I want you to use our two older mares at the back as breakers, next the two new mares in front of them and then Bronze at the very front. This layout will help train the new mares to be in harness”.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Prettiest Animal</title><link>/stories/2010/11/11/the-prettiest-animal/</link><pubDate>Thu, 11 Nov 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/11/11/the-prettiest-animal/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Joseph woke me up early today, took me into the shower rooms, and washed me carefully. In the dressing room, to my surprise, he slipped a white dress over my arms and pulled it down into place.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I smiled, looking at myself in the mirror. It&amp;rsquo;s been so long since I’ve worn anything, and this dress was actually pretty. It looked like a Grecian tunic, loose and free-falling, a bit tapered at the waist and landing at mid-thigh.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>What a Thrill</title><link>/stories/2010/08/23/what-a-thrill/</link><pubDate>Mon, 23 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/08/23/what-a-thrill/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Good day to you, this is a brief introduction to the situation I am about to regale. I am the diarist to Miss Whippy cane she is the owner of an English specialist brothel. (I know some of you will have read this before, but read on and learn the reason for this tale.
Sometime ago I asked her, Mistress W, for access to her client letters and requests she receives. This is one such story taken from those requests and how she dealt with this particular latex/leather pony, and if you have read ‘&lt;a href="https://www.trashcanstories.net/storiessz/sacked2.html"&gt;Sacked Two&lt;/a&gt;,’ (Gromet’s Plaza) you might make some connections, so read on and enjoy.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jessica's Fondest Wish</title><link>/stories/2010/08/07/jessicas-fondest-wish/</link><pubDate>Sat, 07 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/08/07/jessicas-fondest-wish/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;David Flyinn was a widower, having lost his first wife to cancer. Jessica Flyinn had only had a daughter before her untimely death, and being born at Easter her name was April.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;April grew up to look exactly like her mother in all respects.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;But time waits for no man and as the years past David found someone new, her name was Kaye Barker.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;David swept Kaye off her feet and asked her to move in with him and April this happened a few weeks after April’s eighteenth birthday. Kaye didn’t want to cause any friction between herself and April, especially as David worked for one of the big oil companies and travelled round the world.
So David wasn’t at home that much which meant that Kaye and April were left on their own a lot of the time.
Kaye and April seemed to be getting on very well and the household was at peace, Kaye noticed that April never really opened up to her, so tried to get a little closer to her.
One Sunday afternoon April walked in on Kaye who was putting her lipstick on at the dresser.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>What a Thrill</title><link>/stories/2010/08/03/what-a-thrill/</link><pubDate>Tue, 03 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/08/03/what-a-thrill/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Good day to you, this is a brief introduction to the situation I am about to regale. I am the diarist to Miss Whippy cane she is the owner of an English specialist brothel. (I know some of you will have read this before, but read on and learn the reason for this tale.
Sometime ago I asked her, Mistress W, for access to her client letters and requests she receives. This is one such story taken from those requests and how she dealt with this particular latex/leather pony, and if you have read ‘&lt;a href="https://www.trashcanstories.net/storieslz/sacked2.html"&gt;Sacked Two&lt;/a&gt;,’ (Gromet’s Plaza) you might make some connections, so read on and enjoy.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Stable Girl and the Stallion</title><link>/stories/2010/07/23/the-stable-girl-and-the-stallion/</link><pubDate>Fri, 23 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/07/23/the-stable-girl-and-the-stallion/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The first light of dawn had woken her. Rays of sun crept through the crack in the curtains. Another cloudless morning of what was proving a magical summer. The Stable Girl snapped out of her reverie and remembered that she needed to concentrate on her stable duties. She gently lifted Madam&amp;rsquo;s arm from round her waist and slipped out of bed. After yesterday&amp;rsquo;s incidents she needed to pay much more attention to the behaviour of her new horse and ensure that it was obedient to her command. The stallion had been a gift from Madam and the Stable Girl knew that Madam wanted it to aid her development. All young ladies of her age rode. She was new to riding and needed to learn quickly. Riding was fun, but she also needed to muck out and groom her new horse. The chores came with the fun. However, she also knew that those very chores were part of her training and would help her to build a closer bond with her horse.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dreams Part 2: 3 Years Later</title><link>/stories/2010/07/18/dreams-part-2-3-years-later/</link><pubDate>Sun, 18 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/07/18/dreams-part-2-3-years-later/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="dreams.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dreams&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part Two
3 Years Later&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Rhea hesitantly took the witness stand.  She was not looking forward to having to recount the ordeal she had been through.  But she took one look at the man who the police said was responsible for all this, sitting there smugly and even now looking at her like a piece of meat, and she firmed up her resolve.  That bastard had to pay.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Pony Racer (The Beginning)</title><link>/stories/2010/07/18/pony-racer-the-beginning/</link><pubDate>Sun, 18 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/07/18/pony-racer-the-beginning/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Pony Racer. (the Beginning).&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;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!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Miss Q</title><link>/stories/2010/03/16/miss-q/</link><pubDate>Tue, 16 Mar 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/03/16/miss-q/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Good afternoon ladies and welcome to this meeting. I hope this venue meets with your approval this hotel bar is both public enough to allay your fears of meeting a stranger and private enough in this booth for us to talk in the strictest confidence and the fact there are 2 other ladies here in the same situation as yourself should make you all feel more comfortable. So let me introduce myself my name is Mistress or Miss Q don’t let the name fool you I never make mistakes there’s a good reason for me taking this name which I will get too later. Let me introduce you to each other in alphabetical order and you are sitting in order as well on my left is Amber in the middle is Beatrice and on the right Carole.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Taming Tani</title><link>/stories/2009/10/06/taming-tani/</link><pubDate>Tue, 06 Oct 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/10/06/taming-tani/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I was what people would call a nobody.  No ties to friends or close family, a small insignificant job.  The type that you&amp;rsquo;d see on the news as the latest victim of some kidnapper.  Except that I was such a nobody that there was no use in taking me.  I was just your average everyday girl just coasting through life unnoticed.  That was not to say I was a pale recluse hiding in the confines of my cell that some Realtor called a small apartment.  I wasn&amp;rsquo;t the type to let my brain melt like that.  I defiantly got out a lot, trips to the store or the near by lake to lay in the sand trying to ignore the felling that every guy was trying to peak and every woman was pridefully dismissing any feature that we both had.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Rubber Pony Prison</title><link>/stories/2009/09/10/rubber-pony-prison/</link><pubDate>Thu, 10 Sep 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/09/10/rubber-pony-prison/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At first it was with some relief that Pamela had heard that she would serve her sentence as a rubber pony. The sentence was slavery, of course, but at least the friends she once had, and her family would not actually be able to recognize her amidst the herd of rubber ponies serving out their time on the streets of the city.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The changes that had swept the world since her birth had brought about a world that would have once been called &amp;ldquo;Medieval&amp;rdquo;, technologically. The laboratory engineered organism which had been created to absorb oil spills at sea succeeded beyond anyone&amp;rsquo;s wildest imaginings or fears. Within a few months the organism had spread far beyond the test sites and began to consume all the petroleum on Earth&amp;ndash;either in the tank or in the ground. Within a year, the entire world economy was in such a state of collapse that slavery again appeared worldwide in response to the world wide evaporation of assets. Millions, even billions of people on the planet now found themselves forced to sell themselves or families into slavery to keep alive. Millions more found themselves ordered into slavery in response to crimes that once would have required mere fines or community service.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Rubber Baroness</title><link>/stories/2009/08/31/the-rubber-baroness/</link><pubDate>Mon, 31 Aug 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/08/31/the-rubber-baroness/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The heavy rain made it difficult for Allen to see the road. It was
literally a curtain of water hitting the windshield. The wipers were useless,
yet he wouldn&amp;rsquo;t stop.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Damn him!, Alice thought to herself. He couldn&amp;rsquo;t leave on time. Now we&amp;rsquo;ll
never get to the airport before our flight leaves! She looked at Betty and
Frank, who were sitting quietly in the back seat. They looked at Alice with
expressions of anger and yet, resignation to their fate.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Out to Pasture</title><link>/stories/2009/04/19/out-to-pasture/</link><pubDate>Sun, 19 Apr 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/04/19/out-to-pasture/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;CNN “Late Night“&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Still no word on the mysterious disappearance of former ‘Covewatch’ star, Palmera Anderton. Miss Anderton was reported missing two weeks ago. Speculation on her whereabouts range from publicity stunt to alien abduction. A police spokesperson described the investigation as “ongoing”, but would not elaborate. In Business News…”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Two Years Later…&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The two wheeled sulky moved slowly up the narrow, treacherous switchbacks cut into the mountainside. The crisp, clear air was quiet but for the scree of a hawk flying overhead in search of food. Even from a distance, one could see that the power source for the carriage was not the typical burro or yak. This beast of burden was clearly of the two-legged variety.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Day in the Country</title><link>/stories/2008/07/06/day-in-the-country/</link><pubDate>Sun, 06 Jul 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/07/06/day-in-the-country/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I should have been forewarned. That phone call she made was not ominous nor unusual. I could hear the smile in her voice as she asked me to be ready for 10 o&amp;rsquo;clock and that we were going for a drive into the country. She went on to tell me to shave carefully. OK, I thought as she hung up.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Shave carefully? Hmmm. I did go shave again as I had already finished my morning shower etc. The razor was used deliberately slowly being careful to scrape each bit of shaving cream from my face. I was puzzled by her request but happily complied with her wishes. Fresh aftershave, her favourite, and a careful comb ensured I looked as good as I could for her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Among The Missing 11</title><link>/stories/2007/12/10/among-the-missing-11/</link><pubDate>Mon, 10 Dec 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/12/10/among-the-missing-11/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 11&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Ann knelt on the freezing ground shivering, her head covered in water that she had just gulped down greedily from the horse trough just moments before.  While she had been moving she had been able to keep herself warm, but now that she had stopped, her sweat drenched body could feel the full effect of the bitter December chill.  She was also exhausted.  Although not unfit, pulling a cart and passenger for ten miles over a rough track, complete with a passenger for several hours was not her bodies idea of gentle exercise.  Although Dave had given her sports drink and regular stops, it was not enough to replace the salts and fluids that she had lost.  She had hit what athletes call “The Wall” about an hour ago.  She was not sure how she had made it this far, but she had her legs had been ravaged by cramps and spasms for the last mile.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Among The Missing 12</title><link>/stories/2007/12/10/among-the-missing-12/</link><pubDate>Mon, 10 Dec 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/12/10/among-the-missing-12/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 12&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Ann and Nicky chatted amiably as they sat in the cart trundling along the country roads.  The occasional grunt or sound that could have been a swear word escaped through the bridal that Dave the horse wore, which earned him a flick of the whip.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“He doesn’t seem very happy,” Ann observed with a righteous grin as she remembered herself in a similar position only the day before.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>I’m in Trouble</title><link>/stories/2007/01/27/im-in-trouble/</link><pubDate>Sat, 27 Jan 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/01/27/im-in-trouble/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Ok, I’m in trouble. Well, not right now. Right now I’m nice and warm, but I’m not sure what’s going to happen soon. You see, I’m in a dog basket. A nice big, well padded dog basket. And I can’t say it’s exactly uncomfortable. At least, not yet. But I’d better not get ahead of myself. You see it’s not as if I mind being here. In fact I was rather enjoying at it start with.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Colleagues Part 2</title><link>/stories/2006/12/31/colleagues-part-2/</link><pubDate>Sun, 31 Dec 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/12/31/colleagues-part-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="colleagues.html"&gt;chapter one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I woke up in a strange bed, in a strange room, in a stranger&amp;rsquo;s house. The door had opened and the smell of bacon, orange juice and coffee wafted into the room after the black bobbed latex clad form of the maid Sara. &amp;ldquo;Rise and shine. Wakey wakey Simon,&amp;rdquo; she said brightly and cheerfully a huge grin all over her face. &amp;ldquo;There&amp;rsquo;s an ensuite bathroom where you can go and have a shower. I&amp;rsquo;ll leave some clothes for you on the bed and you can come and join us in the breakfast room. Don&amp;rsquo;t be too long or it&amp;rsquo;ll be cold,&amp;rdquo; she said opening the bathroom door. &amp;ldquo;Oh and don&amp;rsquo;t bother to shave,&amp;rdquo; she added.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Among The Missing 10</title><link>/stories/2006/12/30/among-the-missing-10/</link><pubDate>Sat, 30 Dec 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/12/30/among-the-missing-10/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 10&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Ann knew that she was awake because the sun was shining through her closed eye lids, she could hear the sound of Dave busying himself in the kitchen, making fresh coffee by the smell tickling her senses with a strong insistence that would not be denied and, oh yes, she ached all over.  Not just the usual post sex ache that signifies a really good rogering from a reasonably well-endowed man, but the sort of ache that says that she might have difficulty walking for the next year.  Not only did her pussy and anus ache from the excesses of her automated bedroom buddy, but her nipples also ached from where the nipple clamps, wired to the frame, had tugged at her sore breasts as the long strokes had violently shoved her forward and backward with the care and tenderness of a steam train.  Her throat was sore from the assault inflicted on it by the dildo forced repeatedly into her mouth, not to mention all of the screaming that she did between the strokes.  She knew that the first words she uttered this morning would be croaked, unless she had a sweet drink first.  However, for all of her aches, sore places and abuses, she would mount the same bench again now, if she thought that she would not need to be air lifted to the mainland hospital within five minutes.  That image, along with all of the embarrassing questions she knew that she would have to answer brought a smile to her face.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Her Song</title><link>/stories/2006/12/22/her-song/</link><pubDate>Fri, 22 Dec 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/12/22/her-song/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;After reading the story “Dungeon of Denial” on Gromet’s website, Techie, my wife, lover and keyholder of these many years decided she wanted to experience first hand the torment experienced by the lambs.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She wanted me to record her song as she shrieked, wailed and moaned throughout the four-hour long exercise.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Through a trade of favors we would have another couple’s remote mountain cabin to use for a weekend.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The first part of the trade was that I, Techster, would serve as a pony for a day for, Dawn, a military wife/dom who lives one block away, because her husband, who usually was her pony, was called away by active duty.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Fitting Mount</title><link>/stories/2006/02/05/a-fitting-mount/</link><pubDate>Sun, 05 Feb 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/02/05/a-fitting-mount/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Authors Comment:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Terry Pratchet, one of my favourite authors, once wrote of Discworld that
it offered him a wide scope for storyline and characters.  Unlike other writers, if he wants to write a detective novel, a
romance, a science fiction fantasy, or ghost story, all that he has do to is
set it on the Disc. There he can introduce new characters, plots, or anything
else, without alienating his loyal fan base.  After all he has an entire world to play with.  So, if the Discworld works for comedy, tragedy, armies, thieves (As
long as their membership to the guild is fully paid up.), lovers and trolls,
wouldn’t it work just as well for the fetish writer?  After all, the Patricians Palace does boast the most modern, well
maintained and deepest, darkest dungeon this side of the hub?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Captivated</title><link>/stories/2005/10/12/captivated/</link><pubDate>Wed, 12 Oct 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/10/12/captivated/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Captivated by M&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He puts the key in the heavy silver lock and turns it.  With a
click the hasp pops open and he swings the weathered wooden door open. 
The shed smells of wet earth and sweat.  Sunlight streams in, illuminating
his prisoner.  She is naked, standing spreadeagle on the soft dirt
floor.  Her hands disappear at the wrist into thumbless leather mittens,
secured at the wrists by buckled straps.  From the buckles hang shiny
brass locks.  At the end of each mitten is a silver ring to which
a cable is attached with a snaplock.  The cables angle upwards to
pulleys mounted in a dark wooden support beam, then down to heavy weights
resting on the earthen floor.  When the door opens the captive, knowing
what is to come next, pulls desperately to free her arms but only succeeds
in raising the weights a few inches off the ground.  She has tried
to do this many times today, and each time gravity wins over her weakening
muscles and her arms are pulled inexorably away from her until she is once
again stretched taut.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Auction</title><link>/stories/2005/08/31/the-auction/</link><pubDate>Wed, 31 Aug 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/08/31/the-auction/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Auction by Rbbral&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming, please be seated, and welcome
to our bi-annual auction. I’m pleased to see some familiar faces and a
couple of new ones. I’m sure, as always you will not be disappointed. Today
we have three young fillies on the block and, as a special treat, a young
stallion.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;There was a murmuring in the audience; this was exciting, this had never
happened before. Some bidders smiled approvingly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Star is Born</title><link>/stories/2005/07/06/a-star-is-born/</link><pubDate>Wed, 06 Jul 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/07/06/a-star-is-born/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A Star Is Born by Rbbral&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“You’re not much of a cat burglar are you?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The culprit swung round at hearing the voice and took a breath.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“No, I suppose not. Look….it’s my first time….I’m desperate. I need
$3,000 for my tuition fees and accommodation and well….I had a lot of expenses.
There is no way I could make it so fast….legitimately so…..”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“So you decided to break in to my house and steal it, is that it? Nice
big house, lots of land, no security, right? But you didn’t see my cameras
did you, or the sensors.” He held up two tapes.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Menagerie</title><link>/stories/2002/10/14/the-menagerie/</link><pubDate>Mon, 14 Oct 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/10/14/the-menagerie/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Her whole body was sore. 
This was the first thing
Lynn felt.
It was Lynn? Her name was
Lynn wasn’t it?
Her brain was on fire and
she could not think straight.
French club? Private plane?
They meant something and
nothing to her.
She opened her eyes to a
circular room covered in stark white padding. She was blinded by the mirrors
reflecting the light off walls ceiling and floor.
She was in some sort of
costume. She focused her mind and things became clearer.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Stallions in the Corral</title><link>/stories/2002/09/22/stallions-in-the-corral/</link><pubDate>Sun, 22 Sep 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/09/22/stallions-in-the-corral/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Several weeks ago when my husband of 30 + years, Techster and his best
friend, Jerry, gave Jerry&amp;rsquo;s wife, Jenine and I a chance to be ponygirls
for a day I promised him that I would find a way for him to be my ponyboy.
The perfect opportunity appeared about a month later when Jerry and Jenine
invited us go &amp;lsquo;Natural camping&amp;rsquo; with them on a remote part of their 700
acre ranch. The area where we would go camping was heavily wooded with
no apparent path to the 2-acre clearing that we would use as a campsite.
Techster was excited about his being a pony, his first remark when I told
him was, &amp;ldquo;I enjoyed working you as a ponygirl, now it is your turn. I&amp;rsquo;ll
be your ponyboy.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Stallions in the Corral</title><link>/stories/2002/09/22/stallions-in-the-corral/</link><pubDate>Sun, 22 Sep 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/09/22/stallions-in-the-corral/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Several weeks ago when my husband of 30 + years, Techster and his best
friend, Jerry, gave Jerry&amp;rsquo;s wife, Jenine and I a chance to be ponygirls
for a day I promised him that I would find a way for him to be my ponyboy.
The perfect opportunity appeared about a month later when Jerry and Jenine
invited us go &amp;lsquo;Natural camping&amp;rsquo; with them on a remote part of their 700
acre ranch. The area where we would go camping was heavily wooded with
no apparent path to the 2-acre clearing that we would use as a campsite.
Techster was excited about his being a pony, his first remark when I told
him was, &amp;ldquo;I enjoyed working you as a ponygirl, now it is your turn. I&amp;rsquo;ll
be your ponyboy.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>His Pony</title><link>/stories/2002/09/12/his-pony/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Sep 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/09/12/his-pony/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;8
8
His pony
By Techie&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It is no secret that Techster, my husband, and player of kinky games
for the past 30+ years enjoys a new challenge.
Last week we were partying at a friend’s farm and his wife, Jenine,
and I suggested that since we had never done it we wanted to be “pony girls”
for a day. Of course our husbands were eager to help us. Even before we
undressed they started talking about tails, dressing, bridles and harnesses.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Lady Gwen's Weekend</title><link>/stories/2001/04/01/lady-gwens-weekend/</link><pubDate>Sun, 01 Apr 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2001/04/01/lady-gwens-weekend/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Lady Gwen rode her horse up the walk towards Coutt&amp;rsquo;s Manor.  She
and some of her friends spent the morning riding and were now heading home
for the afternoon.  As she entered the courtyard, a stable boy, nude
but for collar and leash, took her reins and held the horse for her to
dismount.  Another servant, similarly attired, was standing by with
a tray of drinks.  Taking a glass of wine, Lady Gwen turned her back
and walked up the path to the house.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Community Service - At the Ranch</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/community-service-at-the-ranch/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/community-service-at-the-ranch/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="community_service.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Community Service&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Marty walked to the door of the apartment and took out his cellphone.
&amp;ldquo;Watch &amp;rsquo;em, Mary. I&amp;rsquo;m going to call the client.&amp;rdquo; He stepped outside
and closed the door.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alice struggled against the plastic handcuffs pinning her wrists behind her
back. She kicked against the pair on her ankles, rolled onto her side and
complained, &amp;ldquo;These cuffs are too tight. Take them off.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mary picked up the riding crop recently used on her and moved next to Alice.
&amp;ldquo;Shut up.&amp;rdquo; She hit Alice&amp;rsquo;s hip with the crop and smiled at Alice&amp;rsquo;s
shriek of anger.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dreams</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/dreams/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/dreams/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Rhea crawled into her bed after a long night of dancing at Club Yulo.  It really wasn’t her scene, but it was her friend’s birthday and that friend had insisted.  Rhea hadn’t dressed all that provocatively, but she had received an abundance of male attention all the same.  Her D-cup breasts were a lure no matter what she wore, as was her silky-smooth and perfectly-tanned skin.  Even when she dressed conservatively, she liked to show off her athletic physique – her toned arms and legs, and the stomach that didn’t make her look scrawny but didn’t have an ounce of excess weight on it.  Her close male friends told her that she had a soft and inviting look that was incredibly appealing.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Finishing School II part 5</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/finishing-school-ii-part-5/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/finishing-school-ii-part-5/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Five&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I
don’t know how long I was out, but I awoke still suspended from my wrists. I
stared in a mirror and saw that I was wearing an anal spreader, and butt plug,
together with the female mask, the cock gag and re-breather mask (the valve of
which had mercifully been turned up to allow me considerably more air). But my
tights, corset, heels, dress, posture collar and most important my pouch had
gone. My backside was burning and Uta was applying a cool ointment to my rear,
smoothing it evenly, quite enjoying herself. The salve was cool and worked
wonders, and while this was going on I continued to breathe in the heavy rubber
aroma.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Human Pet 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/human-pet-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/human-pet-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="human_pet.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Human Pet&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1: Training the Pony&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;A few weeks had passed. The playroom and storeroom were done. Cindy
kept getting these mysterious packages. However it was now time to start
turning their attention to the finding of their Pet. Devon&amp;rsquo;s idea of a scandal
of some sort would be adequate cover. The best bet was to concentrate their
effort in Washington DC. It was a good days drive from there home so that
eliminated their being local. There was always some dirty little scandal
going on. Plus it had a very high unsolved missing person rate. An added
bonus.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>School for Lesbian Subs</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/school-for-lesbian-subs/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/school-for-lesbian-subs/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The ad seemed like it couldn’t be real. It was exactly what I wanted, a school for submissive girls. I had to find out if it was genuine and so, with my whole body shaking like I was freezing cold due to my nerves, I called the number on the page and waited for an answer.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘Hello, Mz Lily’s School of Adult Education, Emma speaking, how can I help you?’ A young voice, sounded like she couldn’t be more than 18 years old answered.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Part One&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I had finished my A levels and had been accepted for university, so I had the summer to myself. Knowing that I would soon be up to my neck in student loans I had, for me, made the rash choice to go on the holiday. I had found a very cheap, no frills, 2 week trip to Africa.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The accommodation was a lot worse than I had expected, but it would be my last holiday before going to university and the cash saved meant that I could slash out on day trips etc. The biggest problem with the Hotel was with the washing facilities. Some times the water would not work at all or it would be cold and rust coloured. I had a thing about taking showers and keeping clean. At home I would normally shower in the morning when I awoke. When I arrived back home after school, and once again before I went to bed.
I was determined not to let it spoil my holiday.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 10</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-10/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-10/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse9.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse 9&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part Ten&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Manto returned to my stall with a tray and a step ladder, the tray he placed on the large shelf at the back of the stall. He then came round to my front and set up the step ladder so that he would be able to reach my face. He went back to the tray, picked up the new bronze nose ring and after climbing the ladder looked me in the eyes and said, “Am I going to have a problem with you or are you going to cooperate for me?”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 11</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-11/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-11/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse10.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse 10&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 11&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sometimes she would harness me up with the helmet and bra but not the elbow cuffs or saddle and we would go for a ride. Bare back I suppose it would be called. Despite this I did enjoy have Minnie ride me it was nice to be able to get away from some of the menial tasks I was given, like walking in circles for hours on the pump.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 12</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-12/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-12/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse11.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse 11&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I would like to thank Pliny who edited this chapter. It wouldn&amp;rsquo;t be what it is without the time and trouble he spent with the revision.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 12&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I was resting in my stall after returning from the daily trip into town. I was in a pleasant state of mind feeling refreshed and clean. Every day on my return Mato would remove my harness also the butt and pee plugs. I had been left feeling open down there between my legs. Then he had washed me down, paying special attention to my crotch area. I was left to dry in the sun before the butt plug was greased with this paste they used and slipped back up my arse.
Over the time I had been forced to wear it, I could feel that the small amount of movement it had, when I was working, had made the surrounding tissue turn into hard skin, like you get on your feet sometimes. The paste was soothing and seemed to insure the area stayed healthy.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 2&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Fred waved his hands at me in an upward movement so I stood up. Once on my feet I was pulled over to three horizontal wooden bars on a frame. I would have tried to put up a fight but again a few hard swots with the stick convinced me of the error of that course of action. The first bar was adjusted so that it was at stomach level when I bent over at the waist. The next was just below my breast and the last above, so I could rest my shoulders on it.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 3</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-3/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 3&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Many of the villagers were about their business and would stop and look at me. I found it most embarrassing walking thru the village to the fields being bald with green paste between my legs and on my head even if my head was covered with a leather hood. I was bright red the whole way. Of course as time went by I would have to get use to being naked in front of people and learn to accept it. I could see that but it did not make the situation any easier now. What was I thinking, I could not give up hope of escaping this madness and going back to my old life.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 4</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-4/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-4/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse3.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 4&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I had worked very hard that day and was looking forward to a nice leg massage from Minnie. The Mother had met us when we arrived at the stable and sent her off on another job. She had told Minnie that she would put me away. Other than to feed me she had done nothing. I was still dirty with the hood and the blinkers were closed. I did not hear the old woman arrive but jumped when she spoke. I will not remove the hood she said but here is your drink.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 5</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-5/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-5/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse4.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 5&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Fred and Minnie both returned from the house carrying things I could not properly see and my ordeal continued. Fred went behind me and knelt between my legs. Minnie untied the cord around my stomach so the tail was only held by the plug. I could feel Fred’s hands on the tail and the Butt Plug. With a press and a twist he then pulled the tail free of the plug and handed it to Minnie.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 6</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-6/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-6/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse5.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse 5&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 6&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The work load had dropped off as most of the trees had been sawn up into lumber and the field crops were yet to be harvested. The good thing about the mill area was that people, both women and men would come and talk. As I went around and around I could hear the conversations and follow what was going on in the village. It had not rained for some time and water was getting to be a problem. I had overheard several men talking about using the cart and me to go to a stream some miles away to collect water for the people. But this would not solve the problem of watering the crops. So if it did not rain soon they would die and the village would be faced with famine for the rest of the year.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 7</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-7/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-7/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse6.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse 6&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 7&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I came too some time later still hanging by the rings on my neck collar. My neck was sore and I could feel it digging into the under side of my jaw. It felt that the bars down the side of it had been turned to lengthen the collar as it was also digging into the top of my shoulders. I think Fred took advantage of the weight of my body stretching my neck to readjust it to the maximum. My whole body felt on fire and throb in pain. I could feel something running down it, which I took to be blood from the cuts made by the whip. I knew I would be scared for life and in some ways was glad I was to be blinded as I would not have to look at the horrible scars or see the look of distaste in peoples faces when they looked at me,&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 8</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-8/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-8/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse7.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse 7&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 8&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I became aware of my bladder being drained and a dull ache in my bottom, hips, jaw, neck etc. Minnie finished the enema and said no food till tonight then screwed in the ball back onto the pee tube.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Zato came in and said I will do your arms today. I thought that she was going to put some metal bands around them or something. She got a thin slab of marble and put it on my back. Under each end she put a trestle to keep it steady. My arms rested on the slab. I felt her prick the back of my neck like Fred had done when he bound my arms so I suppose she was going to redo them.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Bronze Horse 9</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-9/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-bronze-horse-9/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="bronzehorse8.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bronze Horse 8&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part Nine&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As the days turned to weeks the food went back to a more normal food of mashed up stew and porridge. Not being able to see was the worst thing. I could only hear what was going on. Minnie talking to me when she feed me and on Sunday when I had a rest day as the men did not work, I was kept up to speed on village gossip. I learned that they had nearly finished with the drill. It was now down about 67 feet and they hoped any day to hit water.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>