Reluct

Chapter 19 Nadia sat across from Evelyn in the dimly lit private lounge of Abyss, the air thick with tension. She had come here knowing exactly what Evelyn wanted - to push her, to bend her, to make her accept what she had been resisting for weeks. And yet, part of her had walked in willingly. Part of her needed to hear it, even if she loathed herself for it. ...

Chapter 18 Days later, Elise sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the pale cotton pajamas Alexandru had laid out for her. Her fingers twitched as she reached for them, hesitating as if the fabric might bite her. The texture was wrong - too dry, too loose, too alien against her skin. Her body had known nothing but the slick, constricting embrace of latex for an entire year, and now every movement, every sensation, felt raw and unnatural. The air itself felt like an unfamiliar thing, too open, too unpredictable. ...

Chapter 17 Nadia tossed and turned beneath her sheets, her body slick with sweat, her breathing erratic. The darkness of her bedroom felt oppressive, suffocating, but nothing compared to the torment within her own body. Three months. It had been three months since Evelyn had installed the latex extension into her chastity belt, and it had unraveled her piece by piece. The extension was subtle, almost delicate in design, yet it was cruel beyond words. A whisper of stimulation, a presence that never truly left her mind. Never enough to satisfy, never enough to ignore. A slow, inescapable madness pressing against her every waking moment. ...

Chapter 1: Alexis The alarm clock sounded and she reached over to turn it off. A side sleeper, she rolled onto her back and sat up. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. She stood and walked into the bathroom. She looked into the mirror and took in her dark features. Her name was Alexis Petero. Many thought Alexis was either Italian or Hispanic because of the last name and her dark hair and complexion, but she knew her origins were Slavic. ...

Chapter 16 Evelyn guided Ana down the stairs. She stood before the heavy velvet curtain, her breath shallow. She had been here once before. A taste. An invitation. The thin latex suit covered her, ankle to neck. It was crotchless and left her breasts free. A latex thong and latex bra covered her up. Blindfolded in a latex hood with no eyeholes, she remembered the way the attendants had circled her clitoris with inhuman tongues, how they seemed to grab and tug at it, tease and worship it. That night had branded itself into her memory with a searing, aching desire that had never dulled. She’d become hooked in a single evening. Her body knew frustration intimately, a pulse of denial wrapped around her core like an iron tether. But tonight, the Sanctum awaited. ...

Chapter 15 Camelia sat across from Evelyn in the dimly lit lounge of Abyss, dressed in a simple but elegant latex catsuit, her hands clenched in her lap, her eyes red-rimmed from tears. She had come in not as a performer, not as a patron, but as a woman at the end of her rope. She didn’t like the latex on her since her stay in the coffin, but appealing for help with Evelyn, the material as a token of submission would be expected. Her graceful career as a ballerina, her passion since childhood, was crumbling beneath her. The theater had reduced her hours; she couldn’t make ends meet. The world outside had no place for her anymore. And so, she had come here, to Abyss, hoping against hope for something - anything - that would let her dance again. ...

Becky’s Repairs, Part 5 “Par ici, s’il vous plaît. La visite va commencer maintenant. Notre première exposition est une collection de photos en noir et blanc réalisées par Monsieur Deby, qui vient de Lorient.” Despite the frigid weather, Becky stepped lively through the local art museum in a conspicuously short black skirt, high heels, and a tight white V-neck shirt which showed off her collar line in a very tempting way, never mind that her nipples were clearly protruding beneath the soft fabric. The garters holding up her black silk stockings were just tangible under the hem. The guide couldn’t help but ogle, her strawberry-blond hair in curls topped with a black beret. She batted her eyes and gave off the air of a girl on the make. A mother jerked her puberty-stricken son to the other side of the small crowd as the guide made sure to stay close to Becky, pointing out items of interest during the museum tour. ...

Chapter Four - Terra Seven Gamma Terra Seven Gamma is a desert planet. There is enough sub-surface water to sustain life, and here and there you might find small ponds that have water in them during the rainy season, but overall water is very scarce– and very expensive– on Terra Seven Gamma. That is why I was very surprised when Spacer Bob’s tour appeared at what appeared to be some sort of underground water carnival. ...

Love of Life Part 6 After disposing of our would-be assassins, Sherry and I headed back to the house. Before we drove through the neighborhood looking for the intruder’s car. We found it two blocks from our house. We had the keys, so we searched the car for anything important. We found a laptop. We took it, then Sherry followed me as I took their car to the car park and left it there. Once home, we opened the computer and found out everything we needed to know about the attempt on our lives, including the person behind it. It seems that Sandy had a mega-rich client who worships her. He did not take kindly to the Dark Willy treatment of her and chose to take it out on us. Little did he know that we had knowledge of him and his intentions and that his fate, as well as the boys in the desert, was now in our hands. Time to plan our next move. ...

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. ...

5: Lost Evening was falling when the carriage finally came to a halt. Jeffrey helped his passengers out of the carriage and supported Trisha, who was still weak on her feet. Rilliana knocked on Celine’s door and looked around nervously. “Are you okay, Rilli?” Trisha whispered, stroking her friend’s arm. “Yes…yes, everything’s fine, I’m just…tired,” Rilliana murmured, pulling her arm away when Trisha touched her. The shifter frowned but said nothing as the door opened a crack. Celine’s face peered out, but they couldn’t see any more of her. ...

Chapter 14 Nadia sat alone in her apartment, the dim light of a single lamp casting long shadows along the walls. The room was silent, but her mind roared with conflict. It had been months since her release from the Rubber Suit of Permanence, months since she had been granted back the choice of what to wear. Yet despite the freedom, despite the simple pleasure of feeling cotton, silk, and leather against her skin again, she remained bound in the one way that mattered most. The belt remained locked, and Evelyn had made it clear: it was indefinite. ...

34: My Realm Caitlyn sat on the sofa in Celine’s main house and rubbed her forehead. After the exciting and fun event, she had complained of a headache, which Celine couldn’t ignore, of course. So she invited Caitlyn to have a cup of tea while she checked her invention. However, she wasn’t alone. The demon Ifry was sitting in an armchair opposite Caitlyn, and the angel Phaelyn was lying with her head on Caitlyn’s lap, enjoying the head scratches the young policewoman was giving her. At the same time, she rubbed her own temples and groaned occasionally. ...

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 13 Nadia stepped back into Abyss again, a month after the verdict, her body still carrying the heavy exhaustion of survival. The relief was real, yet fragile, like the first breath after surfacing from too-deep water. She had shown mercy. When Evelyn had asked whether Elise’s sentence should be a year or made permanent, Nadia had quietly spoken the words that seemed to have disappointed Evelyn: one year. No more. She could not bring herself to condemn Elise to the eternity the woman had once wished upon her. Even after everything, the duels, the rubberization rules, the years of denial, Nadia remained human. Even if it meant that her belt stayed locked on. That small, stubborn spark of humanity had cost her nothing but sleep. ...

4 With Valerie’s college departure circling like a shadow on the calendar, Eleanor Hargrove had orchestrated one final indulgence for the girls, a lavish escape to the Apex Grand, one of her husband’s sprawling chrome-and-crystal empire lording over the city skyline. Over breakfast in the sun-dappled conservatory, amid the clink of porcelain and the faint steam of chamomile tea, she’d unveiled the plan with her trademark poise: a sprawling three-bedroom penthouse suite, all with floor-to-ceiling views of the skyline and hint of luxury that masked the deeper games to come that she’d planned. ...

1 - Weekend updates “You’ll put a man in jail sometime… Unjustly too!” Dirk, Marie’s manager, thinks out loud. “Because I wear a hoodie?” Marie wonders. She hates Dirk and sighs at the sexist undertone. “You know what I mean…” Dirk hungrily looks at Marie as he lets her into the data center main floor. He can’t help himself and openly stares at her large bust. “Whatever you say,” Marie doesn’t see why Dirk is behaving this way and wishes for the millionth time that she could work for someone else. ...

My (girl)friend, my parasite and me Part 1 - Greed in Total Control Kelsie and Nia sat on a tree trunk in the middle of a forest. The two friends chatted happily as they planned a crime. A stone’s throw away from them was a road, which they were watching with cameras. The trap had been set for hours, and if their client was right, their two targets would soon be within reach. In their car were duct tape, ropes, cling film, sleeping bags, and suitcases that were padded so that a person could be placed exactly in the shape that had been made for them. ...

Chloe and C&T Part 1 - How to Catch a Chloe It was late at night and the young blonde crept up to the door in the shadows of the mansion. Chloe had a goal on this hot summer night. To finally find the secret pool that her boss Celine was sure to be hiding in the house. Chloe couldn’t say why she said she didn’t have a pool, but she knew Celine was lying. The signs were clear. Vast amounts of soil that the witch had removed from the basement. Sample tiles that she had had delivered, and a package that looked suspiciously like a diving board. ...

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. ...

Chapter 12 The energy in Abyss was electric, charged with anticipation as the club’s patrons gathered around the stage. Tonight was unlike any other. This was no ordinary challenge - this was justice being served under the guise of entertainment, and every eye was fixed on the woman strapped in at center stage. Elise sat rigidly in the preparation chair, her hands gripping the armrests as two silent attendants tightened the straps around her waist and thighs. Her arms were held tightly at her sides. Her legs were locked together, forcing her to sit motionless while she awaited the inevitable. She was in latex, full catsuit, only head, hands uncovered. Simple black patent leather high heels adorned her feet. ...

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.” ...

Chapter 10 Nadia stood before Evelyn’s office door, her gloved fist raised but frozen mid-air. She had spent the week lost in spirals of anxiety, replaying the moment she had agreed to Elise’s challenge over and over in her head. The hallway around her hummed with Abyss’s usual ambiance, low bass, muffled laughter, the occasional clink of crystal glasses, but here, outside Evelyn’s sanctuary, the atmosphere seemed heavier, quieter, like the building itself was holding its breath. The full-face latex mask sealed tightly against her skin, sweat beaded along her spine beneath the rubber catsuit, trapped and inescapable. She swallowed hard, the taste of latex filling her mouth, and finally knocked. ...

1 - My first kiss I lean my chin on my hand as I look out of the cafe window. Thinking back about the past year. Maybe I should give my dad a call? Visit him? See if he’s still an asshole? Meh… That doesn’t need checking, he’ll never change. Almost a year has passed since he kicked me out of the house. When he found the one skirt I owned back then he called me a crossdressing homo and told me I wasn’t his son anymore. That came as quite a shock at first. In the following fight he kicked me out of the house. For 3 days I was homeless with nowhere to go. Fortunately I have since been able to find a place to stay. I’m renting some guys’ basement apartment. Nobody came looking for me either so I guess I got a fresh start at life. ...

Justin was bored. Here he was, sat alone in his dorm room, in the middle of Spring Break while the rest of his classmates were partying it up in Cancun. How had it come to this? Only a couple of weeks ago Justin had a girlfriend and a guaranteed place on the trip. Then he managed to mess it all up. Justin couldn’t face the prospect of seeing Maddy so soon after their break-up (or see her potentially hook up with other guys) so he’d sold his ticket to his otherwise reclusive roommate. He’d used the money from the ticket to buy himself a new gaming laptop. The idea was to distract himself while everyone else was away having a great time. Except there was one problem: it still hadn’t arrived. ...

Chapter 9 Four days later, they met again. Evelyn swirled her glass of crimson wine slowly, the liquid catching the dim glow of Abyss’s lounge. Across from her, Elise leaned forward, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the tabletop. There was an intensity in her gaze, a hunger that Evelyn had come to recognize all too well. Elise was ready to explain all the details of how she intended to change the existing black rubber coffin’s design. The club’s mistress had demanded specifics. She wanted to know exactly how it would be different from the standard black rubber coffin. ...

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 8 The energy in Abyss was electric as Ramona stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest. The massive book lay open beneath the balance beam, its oversized pages showcasing the eerie illustrations of past victims lost to the cursed tome. The spectators, eager for another dramatic display, held their breath in anticipation. Unlike Camelia, whose fear had sealed her fate, Ramona was determined to succeed. Evelyn leaned forward in her grand chair, her voice sultry and commanding. “Ramona, the rules remain unchanged. You will cross the balance beam, resisting the temptations and terrors of the book. If you falter, the book claims you, and Abyss will ensure your fate mirrors its illustrations. If you succeed, the prize is yours - 100,000 Lei. A small fortune for a dance of precision and control.” ...

Chapter 7 The Abyss was waiting. She had always been meant to walk into it. The night of the duel arrived with an atmosphere thick with tension and expectation. Club Abyss was packed with eager spectators, their whispers forming an undercurrent to the pulsating music that thrummed through the grand chamber. The stage was set, and at its center stood Nadia and Elise, facing each other under the watchful gaze of Evelyn. ...

Chapter 6 Three months passed in this torment. By the time she finally stepped into Evelyn’s office, dressed in her rubber suit, with the additional full hood she was handed as soon as she entered Abyss, she felt like she was unraveling. Her nights had become an endless cycle of frustration and discomfort, and she knew she couldn’t last an entire year like this. Evelyn was seated at her desk, poised as always, regarding Nadia with a knowing smirk. “Well, well. I was wondering how long you’d last before coming to me.” ...

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. ...

He landed in Bangkok with a single suitcase and a hunger that no amount of Western dating apps had ever satisfied. Mark was forty-two, divorced, solvent, and tired of women who pretended to want equality while secretly craving control they were too afraid to name. He had read the forums, the dark subreddits, the whispered stories: somewhere in Isan there were still villages where a farang with money and patience could find a girl raised on old rules—rules that bent, slowly, in the opposite direction once the hook was set. ...

Part 7: The Wheels Come Off Dan awoke to the chime of his phone. He was greeted by a text from Jordan. “Still mad at me?” it asked, followed by a crying emoji. He ignored the message and dressed for work. Walking out the front door, coffee in hand Dan stumbled over a bag left by his door. With hot coffee dribbling down his wrist he muttered, “What the fuck?” He picked up the plastic grocery bag. Coils of hemp rope were neatly arranged inside. ...

Chapter 5 Winter had settled over the city, blanketing the streets in frost while inside, Club Abyss thrived in its own peculiar warmth. For Nadia, the cold outside was nothing compared to the ever-present heat within her rubber confinement. Months had passed, and she had adapted to her reality, each day filled with sweat, discipline, and an unwavering struggle against the urges her chastity belt denied her. But Elise was never one to let things remain stagnant. ...

1 - Liz At school, Liz was always a bit of an outcast for her different way of thinking. And while her classmates would pursue interests and jobs suitable for city life, Liz always felt more at peace on her own. She never really felt at home in the city she grew up in. Too busy and complex for her liking. Her mother wanted to name her Elizabeth. Unfortunately, Liz’s father was too drunk to pronounce it correctly when she was born. When asked for the baby’s name, he gave her name as ‘Ehhh Liz?’ trying to remember Elizabeth. And so ‘Liz’ was put on the birth certificate. Her mother didn’t find out until much later about the screw-up. Officially Liz doesn’t know. However, one of her earliest memories is her parents fighting over her dad always being drunk and never doing anything right, all while he blamed her mom for getting pregnant in the first place. ...

Chapter 4 The Abyss Annual Gala had been whispered about for weeks. The club’s most loyal patrons had received elegant black envelopes with embossed crimson seals, an invitation to an event promising to be as grand as it was treacherous. The gala was not merely a party; it was a showcase of Abyss’s finest theatrics, its most dazzling displays, and its most devious challenges. For Elise and Alexandru, it was the perfect stage to cement their status in the club’s elite circle. For Nadia, still languishing in her upgraded Rubber Suit of Permanence, it was another ordeal to endure. And for Evelyn, it was a chance to watch her pawns dance. ...

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. ...

4: Old Friends, Old Enemies Trisha frowned as she looked alternately at the luggage, the box, and Jeffrey. “Jeffrey… I mean, it’s wonderful that you brought me my things and this dust collector from my sister, but where the hell is Rilliana?” “Lady Celine just gave me your luggage, with instructions to take good care of it, and this letter.” He handed her a letter, bowed, and left Trisha’s apartment. Trisha opened the paper and read two words: Have fun! A small key was attached to it. ...

Chapter Three - *Training to Please a Man__ #### **Cycle 4378, Day 169* It has been over a month since my night with Master. I have seen him several times since then in the hallways here at the House of Burcroft, but I don’t know if he saw me. Perhaps I am insignificant to him. Besides, I am in training from the time that lucida wakes me in the morning until I stagger back to my bed long after darkness has fallen. I never realized there was so much to learn about being a personal sex slave. ...

Frank looked up and down the length of the corridor, breathing through his COVID mask. The fluorescent ceiling panels flickered but everything was quiet as he slid the key into the top door lock. He held his breath as he tried to turn it, but then the resistance stopped and the bolt slid back into the door. One more breath, and the bottom lock yielded as well. The door knob turned smoothly, and the door opened to let Frank inside. He closed the door just as the sound of the elevator came from the end of the corridor. He glanced at his watch: Seven-fifteen. The conference dinner and speeches would be going for two hours minimum, and there was a half hour drive to get here if every traffic light was green. Time to get started. ...

Chapter 2 The room inside Abyss was charged with a palpable tension as patrons gathered near the stage, the usual thrum of the club’s bass infused with a sense of impending drama. At the center of it all were Nadia and Elise, both standing in the spotlight, their faces etched with determination and a hint of trepidation. The infamous Heels of Infernal Spires, with their transparent platforms exposing blunt but cruel spikes, which were permanently extended, had been strapped securely to their bare feet. Every patron present knew that this duel would not be for the faint-hearted. ...

Chapter Two - First Night as a Sex Slave* ####Cycle 4378, Day 138* Last night was wonderful in a very strange sort of way. Almost as soon as we started eating, Master pressed something on his wrist that looked like a very small watch and suddenly I felt… empty. My mind diary was no longer recording my thoughts. I concentrated on the word “Status” in my mind and suddenly I could see the status display of my lifepack superimposed over the prawns I was dipping in the spicy sauce. It said, “Off Line” in flashing red letters. ...

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. ...

Chapter 1 “I want her back in rubber!” Elise said firmly. The dim hum of Abyss’s deep bass reverberated through the private lounge where Elise and Alexandru reclined. Their hands entwined loosely, their glasses of dark red wine and water untouched as they leaned closer to Evelyn, who perched on the edge of a sleek velvet armchair. Evelyn’s sharp eyes flitted between them, her lips curved in an intrigued smile. The weight of their conversation was heavy, yet there was a simmering anticipation beneath it. ...

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. ...

With no real drive to ever consider becoming ambitious, Laura sat at the boring sales desk, in her temporary agency role, doing nothing productive, other than filing her nails, and discussing via text, the dress code for Saturday’s girl’s night out. On the morning of the weekend, Laura paid a visit to the kick boxing gym, where she worthlessly only held a membership, to gain the interest of a small-time unimpressionable drug peddler that she liked, but who’d never noticed her, mainly because he circled in leagues much higher. ...

Part 11: Echo of Thorns and The First Heat The Morning of Perfumed Hell The first ray of sunlight that filtered through the crack in the curtain was not a blessing. It was an accusation. Lindsey’s eyes opened —not slowly, but with a spasm— her body burning from within. It wasn’t a fever. It was hunger. A biological, animal, programmed hunger. The gel Morgana had smeared on her the night before —that “special” lubricant with the smell of tropical fruits and broken promises— now ran through her veins like a sweet poison. Her sex was throbbing, swollen, soaked, begging for an orgasm that her own body denied her. The air around her smelled of herself: musk, salt, desperation. A perfume that both attracted and repelled. ...

I had almost finished with the incantation when a cricket landed a few inches from the parchment. I flicked it aside before it could damage the priceless document. I finished the last few lines of the chant and waited. At least I could blame the cricket when this attempt failed. As expected, nothing happened. I was going to grab a coffee before my next attempt when the dead insect stirred. It shook itself, then got to its hind legs and walked to a candle. It leaned against the candle with one arm…or leg. All it needed was a carrot to imitate Bugs Bunny. ...

Part 10: The Puppy in Heat Lindsey opened her eyes at dawn, not with fear, but with a warmth that ran through her belly. The memory of the previous night—the intertwined bodies, the muffled moans, the smell of nano-latex and sweat—still vibrated on her skin. She stretched slowly, feeling the sweet ache of used muscles, the invisible mark of Morgana’s hands, the gentle pressure of Elisabeth’s fingers. And then, without thinking, she brought her hands to her breasts, large, heavy, and sensitive. She caressed them slowly, squeezing her nipples until a moan escaped her lips. ...

Part 9: The Veil of Betrayal The buzz of the Academy’s alarm pierced the silence of the cabin like a miscalibrated laser, a shrill beep that echoed in Lindsey’s ears like a remnant of the previous night. The morning air smelled of recycled ozone and the faint metallic tang of the ventilation ducts. Lindsey sat up in her bunk, the synthetic mattress creaking under her weight, and a torrent of thoughts assaulted her: guilt gnawed at her from within, a slow acid devouring her insides. How could I drag Elisabeth into the holodeck? My mentor, my beloved professor, now a toy for that… creation of hers. All because of my stupidity, my curiosity that opened the cage. Her hands trembled as they brushed the sheets, the rough texture reminding her of the restraints from the night before, but there was no time to crumble. She needed to prepare for the day, to feign normalcy in a world that was crumbling. ...

The Beginning How did I get here? I’ve asked myself that question over and over. The answer is however quite obvious: I walked here all by myself – eyes open – no cohesion – no tricks. Like walking into a trap marked by all sorts of warning signs – believing that I could just take a peek inside – and get out before the trap closed. BAM! Or actually it was more than a sigh. I was caught. With no escape. And nobody to blame but my own stupidity. And my stubbornness. And believing I was smarter than everyone else. ...

It’s a tale as old as time, isn’t it? Somebody finds a rusty old lamp (that for some reason looks more like a coffee pot), goes to polish it up and *flash* out smokes the top half of a man to offer three wishes? Well, that’s not quite how I met my Genie… and MY Genie was quite obviously not a man, either. We met, of all places, at a sex club - specifically my local BDSM night - I was there as one of only a select few single males allowed and had won the ballot for that month’s meeting, the idea being to keep the numbers sensible and have a balance between couples, singles, and their respective orientations. My recent dating history had been a string of nice but vanilla women and at nearly 30, I was starting to look for someone permanent, and with whom I could explore lifestyle submission and a Female Led Relationship. ...

Part 8: Damage Control The alarm sounded, but I ignored it. My body was a symphony of pain. Every joint, a muffled scream. The constant, oppressive pulse stretched from my shoulders to my fingertips, a cruel reminder of the punishment. I slowly got out of bed, dragging myself to the bathroom. The light turned on automatically, and what I saw in the mirror took my breath away. It wasn’t my body. It was a sadistic artist’s canvas. The whip marks were purple, almost black, on my back and thighs. My breasts were covered in bruises, dark and deep, with a trail of greenish-blue around the areolas. The pain, which had been only physical, transformed into an emotional wound. They weren’t bruises; they were proof of my humiliation. ...

Interactive Christmas Special You wake up to find that it is bitterly cold and when you open your eyes you see snow swirling above you driven by a fierce, chill wind. You are lying on your back in a snowdrift along with your three escape room companions. You are all naked save for strategically wound cheesecloth scarves. Sitting up, you feel the bite of the wind more fiercely and suppressing a shiver, you force yourself to look around. You see only a flat expanse of snow and ice extending to all horizons. The only exception is a steel door a few meters away bearing the sign: ‘Santa’s Secret Sex Toy Factory’ ...

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. ...

Part 6: The Pet in the Meadow Lindsey woke up with a sore body, a dull and pulsing ache in her lower region. She opened her eyes and saw the screen of her terminal, the cursor blinking at the end of the log she had recorded the night before. She had fallen asleep while writing, exhausted and empty. A bucket of ice-cold water, the reality of the previous day, fell upon her with the force of a waterfall. ...

Chapter 26 The poor woman trembled with anxiety as I examined her body. A blindfold covered her eyes, blocking out all sight and making her completely unaware of what I had planned for her. I couldn’t blame my sister for being nervous, I had her fully bound to the bed with little room for release and I had not told her what I wanted to do, she was just glad to be rid of that metal contraption; even just for a few minutes. ...

Part 15 Chapter 68: Torture The Master of Assassins undid his cloak as he looked down at the implements on he table which appeared to be a mix of sex toys and genuine instruments of torture and a few that were probably both. Then he tossed the cloak onto the armchair and pushing up the sleeves of his doublet he walked back towards Ellie. ‘So,’ he said, ‘you were about to tell me what you were doing in Thoth.’ ...

Andy was back in the factory again. He and a friend had decided to check out the basement of this old abandoned steel mill last week, and he had noticed a very strange looking plant that drew his attention. It was a plant with a bulbous stem, and several flowers near the base. He had immediately wondered how it would feel inside of him. And as he was currently between partners, of either gender, he was looking for something more than silicone to help bring him some pleasure. He hoped that this plant could potentially be that additional pleasure. ...

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 7: The misfortunes of an organic maidbot The metallic tang of the garage still lingered in Melissa’s nostrils as she emerged, muscles aching and spirit frayed. But there was no respite. The house computer’s voice, a relentless, disembodied presence, immediately issued new directives. “Unit 734-B, your next assignment is the comprehensive reorganisation of the linen closet. All towels are to be folded according to size and colour, and all bedsheets inventoried.” Melissa gritted her teeth, the collar a constant, heavy reminder of her subjugation. ...

“You’re not doing it anymore, and I refuse to be a part of it,” said Abby whilst giving her best friend Amy a stern look. “Please Abbs, you know how much it means to me, I can’t live without it!” “Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a fetish Amy, you can go without it.” Amy dropped her head, she knew Abby was right, but the draw of the excitement was overwhelming, it was her drug, and she was addicted. ...

Part 14 Chapter 63: More Orgasms Prospero took hold of one of the rings attached to her collar and led her towards the bed in the corner of the workshop. ‘I am without an apprentice at present,’ he said as if explaining the small bed. ‘But, if it helps…’ He snapped his fingers and the bed appeared to expand, purple silk coverlets replacing the blankets, in a moment it had four posts and a gold rimmed canopy; gold and purple cushions lay scattered around it. The chest had become a dresser of dark wood inlaid with gold surmounted by a mirror in which Ellie could see Prospero reflected, his finger hooked in the collar around Honey’s throat. ...

“The city skyline was a glittering tapestry of stolen jewels, a view Krystal appreciated from the penthouse she was currently liberating of its contents. She was a ghost, a whisper in the world of the ultra-rich, a beautiful phantom who took what she wanted. Krystal was a masterpiece of her own design: five feet of curated perfection, with hair the colour of spun moonlight, lips perpetually swollen into a pout, and a body that defied gravity. Her Z-cup breasts and impossibly round, high butt were her trademarks, assets she used as much as her lockpicks and charm. She was, in her own mind, the ultimate prize, so it only made sense she should possess all the others. ...

Being a fetishist can be a lonely existence, especially if you’re of a shy and retiring nature. Discovering things like BDSM during your years of sexual awakening in the early 2000s could be done completely privately online, with no need to visit old fashioned sex shops for magazines any more, and progressing from there onto other more specialist kinks would not be unusual given the nature of Internet links, chat rooms etc. But even basic BDSM didn’t really hit the mainstream media until a certain novel came out, so there was perhaps more danger of an embarrassing knock-back if one came out to their partner expressing certain desires back then. ...

Part 1 – Maid for a night The purchase (This is too good to be true, right?) Marion thought. She was browsing through one of her favorite costume shops, the kind with adult cheerleaders and the likes, and there it was! A complete android maid costume, looking exactly like the real thing, judging from the photos, and at a bargain price! It was not cheap, but it was about ten times cheaper than the last robomaid costume she had seen, and it looked waayyy more realistic. ...

“Finally, home sweet hell,” I sighed under my breath, striding through the front door and heading up the stairs. My wooden mules clicked sharply against each step, echoing through the sorority house’s empty hallway. The denim skirt clung snugly as I ascended, my light blue cardigan slipping off one shoulder. I adjusted it impatiently, the ribbon choker around my neck suddenly feeling tighter than it had during my last class. ...

Moonlight “And you’re sure that we’re going to be alone?” Jack asked as he turned off the main highway onto the well-worn dirt road. He glanced over at Desiree just long enough to catch her smile and nod, her feet playfully perched on the dashboard, the angle of her legs causing her loose skirt to ride up her thighs, revealing the bottom edge of her Hello Kitty panties. She knew exactly what she was doing. ...

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. ...

Part 47 Bound by Desire The dim light of Lena’s apartment cast long shadows across the walls, creating a somber atmosphere that mirrored the weight both she and Mina carried. More than two years had passed since they had been cursed with the Caps of Despair and Rings of Longing, cursed bindings that kept their desires in constant torment. The fires of lust burned as intense as on the first day. Their passion remained, yet the chastity piercings stripped them of the fulfillment they needed. ...

Part 4 Contract Lena stood outside the ornate black doors of Club Abyss, her breath misting faintly in the cool evening air. The familiar pulse of bass-heavy music thrummed through the stone under her boots, and her stomach twisted in anticipation. She’d been here before - three times now - but tonight felt different. She was no longer just a curious outsider peeking into a world of elegance, cruelty, and allure. Tonight, she returned not as a tourist, but as someone dangerously close to surrendering to the Abyss itself. ...

Part 8 The Price of Defeat The dim, flickering lights of Club Abyss cast long shadows across the silent, cavernous space. The crowd had dispersed, their cheers and jeers now just echoes in the cold, empty air. The stage, once alive with the feverish energy of the dance duel, now stood as a silent monument to the night’s brutal spectacle. In a hidden chamber beneath the club, the elegant woman - once the untouchable hostess - lay suspended in a grotesque contraption. Metal frames held her nude body aloft horizontally, her arms and legs spread-eagled wide, rendering her completely immobile. The chamber was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a series of small, harsh lights aimed directly at her. ...

Part 35 Redemption The chamber Evelyn had chosen for this meeting was not Abyss’s grand stage, nor one of its velvet lounges. It was a side room - private, windowless, subtly oppressive. Walls draped in heavy crimson fabric muffled every sound. A single chandelier cast soft, threatening pools of gold light across the polished black marble floor. Three women adorned the space like living art. One woman hung above the desk, sealed inside a suspended vacuum frame. Her body was flattened between twin latex sheets, the suspension lines taut and deliberate. The soft hum of the vacuum device barely masked her moans - throaty, rhythmic, involuntary. She twisted slowly within her black latex prison, nipples stiff against the compressing surface, a humming wand vibrator outlined and visible in the bondage device, her hands clawing at empty air in slow, elegant waves. ...

Part 28 Dance of Despair The big date arrived. On the night of the event, more or less one and a half years after having been fitted with the Caps of Despair, Lena and Mina returned to Abyss, their hearts heavy with anticipation and dread. The club was packed, the crowd buzzing with excitement. The club was tense with expectation. Midnight loomed, and with it, the long-announced duel that had set every tongue in Abyss whispering. Every booth hummed with speculation. Every shadow held someone watching, waiting. And when Lena and Mina entered the bar, flanked by the quiet pull of their presence, more than one head turned. The stage was set for the ultimate showdown, and everyone knew it. ...

Part 45 Luxury Ana sat in her apartment, bathed in the soft amber light of her desk lamp, surrounded by quiet and luxury - the kind of comfort she never thought she’d afford just a year ago. It was silent save for the gentle hum of her wine cooler and the low ambient drone of her air purifier. In front of her, her Abyss ledger glowed faintly on her tablet screen, confirming her steady, satisfying financial trajectory. ...

Part 9 Dance of Deception Lena and Mina stood outside Abyss once more, the cold night air prickling their skin. It had been weeks since Lena’s duel with Evelyn, and the memory of her victory still lingered. Evelyn had been led away to the basement for her eight-hour ordeal, and rumors of her humiliation spread quickly. For a long time in Abyss’ dark history, the queen had fallen. Lena had expected the club to maybe shut down or at least change its painful dancing program, but to her surprise, it remained as lively and dark as ever. Tonight, she and Mina had come to celebrate what they thought was the end of Evelyn’s reign. ...

Part 46 The Flickering Candle The pulsing energy of Abyss filled the air Evelyn spotted that Camelia had entered the club once more. Her auburn hair shimmered under the dim lights, a wild contrast to her blue elegant latex dress, and her confident stride exuded a sense of excitement. She still believed her selection the previous week had been a stroke of luck - a random chance that had allowed her to shine. Tonight, she felt ready to enjoy the atmosphere, blissfully unaware of Evelyn’s plans. ...

Part 1 Lena In the pulsating heart of an Eastern European capitol, where shadows danced with neon lights, lay an underground haven for those seeking the unconventional - The Abyss Club. The club was a sanctuary for latex fetishists, a place where the boundaries of pleasure were constantly pushed. Lena had heard whispers about Club Abyss from friends who thrived on the city’s underground nightlife. At 31 years old, she was well established in the city’s underground fetish and techno scene. The club was known for its wild, unrestrained energy, a place where the line between reality and fantasy blurred, promising to perfectly combine fetish with music. Curious and seeking an escape from her monotonous routine, Lena decided to see it for herself. A notorious underground fetish club hidden in the back alleys of the city. A place where the music pulsed like a living heartbeat, drawing in thrill-seekers and curious souls alike. ...

Part 42 Reflections The next day, a different café. Alexandru sat across from the woman who had taken risk and won. The coffee shop was warm and bustling, the hum of conversation mingling with the hiss of the espresso machine. Elise leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips as she stirred her cappuccino. Across from her, Alexandru, her partner in life and victory, mirrored her mood with a wide grin. ...

Part 6 Return The haunting memories of her dance at Abyss refused to fade. Each night, Mina would replay the relentless beat of the music, the searing pain of the spikes in the Boots of the Languished Sole, and the twisted satisfaction on Evelyn’s face. Despite the agony, the submissive part of her craved more. The challenge had awakened something within her - a need to test her limits, to prove her strength. ...

Part 55 Endless Dance Evelyn stood in her private chamber, the dim light casting long shadows across the mirrored walls. The air was thick with the faint scent of rubber and leather, mingling with the tension that seemed to permeate the room. The Stilettos of the Languished Arches glistened on her feet, their sleek design betraying none of the agony they inflicted. She adjusted her stance, the spikes embedded in the insoles waiting to bite sharply into the sensitive flesh of her soles. Taking a deep breath, she pressed play on the control panel, and the haunting opening notes of the Seventh Circle of Hell began to echo through the room. ...

Part 52 Alina The lounge was dim and decadent, drenched in red velvet shadows and low jazz that never resolved. The air smelled faintly of latex polish and dark perfume, and above the black marble fireplace, the ever-present counters ticked silently down in glowing Abyss-red numerals. ALINA ICE PRINCESS. CHASTITY. 5 YEARS. 1 y, 8 m, 21 d, 03:12 She stared at it, glass in hand, but not drinking. Her throat was too tight. The number had once seemed mythic, distant, almost unreal in its scale. Five years. A whole era of denial. But now, with 40 months already spent locked, sealed, untouched - every second left on that clock screamed. ...

Part 39 The Seven Circles of Hell Several weeks earlier … Just two days after Lena’s and Mina’s secret and forbidden visit to Abyss and the Dance on the Razor’s Edge, Evelyn paced the dimly lit corridors of her private chamber in Club Abyss, her mind swirling with the implications of the letter she clutched tightly in her hand. The words etched on the thick parchment were both a challenge and a threat: ...

Part 22 Riding The air inside Abyss on that particular Friday night was thick with anticipation. The main stage pulsed with rhythmic basslines, and the usual symphony of clicking heels, whispered wagers, and teasing gasps played beneath the surface of the music. Colored lights danced across latex and leather, and the scent of heat-warmed rubber mixed with incense created that unmistakable Abyss perfume: luxurious, decadent, and just slightly dangerous. Claudia, the unlucky waitress, was among the crowd, dressed in her latex minidress. She spotted Elise at the bar, but decided to stay away. Nadia stood near the edge of the main floor, champagne glasses in hand. She had long since lost the awkward stiffness of when moving in the belt. Since being locked, Nadia had found herself returning again and again not just out of curiosity, but out of a growing attachment. She observed Evelyn, but even more so Elise and Alexandru, trying to learn how they thought. Looking for weaknesses, quirks, fights, between them. She’d suffer as long as they were a couple. She spotted them at the bar. Alexandru’s hand resting on Elise’s thigh. Nadia turned away in hurt. ...

Part 30 Desperate Challenge Evelyn’s words haunted Nadia: “The belt will remain until you prove your worth. Win a duel, and the belt will be transferred to the loser.” It was her only chance, the only glimmer of hope in her suffocating reality. Nadia’s desperation grew, pushing her to return to Abyss, determined to find someone - anyone - to challenge. She didn’t have any feud with anyone except Elise. ...

Part 2 Lena’s Return to Club Abyss Lena stood once again before the unmarked entrance of Club Abyss, the crimson glow of the sign casting ominous shadows on the pavement. Despite the pain and fright she had endured two weekends before, she found herself drawn back, unable to resist the club’s dark allure. Her life outside had become a blur of routine, and that night spent at the club, though torturous, had awakened something inside her - a strange, intoxicating thrill that she couldn’t ignore. Tonight, she had no illusions of safety or comfort. She knew what awaited her would be even more harrowing, if Evelyn really had set her dark eyes on her, as was her suspicion. ...

Part 24 A handful Lei Ana sat in the corner of Abyss’s lounge, her body sinking deeper into the velvet-cushioned booth, the chill of her latex catsuit sticking to her thighs. The dark ambiance of the room, the low thrum of the music filtering through the walls, and the amber glow of the sconces only highlighted the swirl of desperation coiling inside her. The edges of her bank account had long since frayed. Rent was overdue. Her last job - some flavorless receptionist gig in a shared office - had dried up. And all she had to show for her performances in Abyss were modest wins: a few cash prizes, and the persistent ache in her feet from too many nights spent teetering on heels lined with punishment. ...

Part 43 Just your normal night Evelyn stood in the dimly lit heart of Abyss, the pulsing beat of the music vibrating through the floor beneath her. Despite the grueling preparation for her own challenge, the weekend routine called for her unwavering presence. She adjusted the elegant black latex gown that clung to her figure, the weight of her hostess duties pressing down as heavily as the spikes in the Stilettos of the Languished Arches she had been training in. ...

Part 38 The First Circle of Hell Six weeks had passed since Lena and Mina’s secret return to Abyss, their hearts still weighed down by the ominous note they had received, but no further contact had been made. They were not expecting any contact anymore. Neither did they dare to return. The memory of the dancer’s perilous performance and the chilling message lingered, casting a desire over their days. More than one night they slowly swayed on their double ended toy, eliciting a symphony of moans. ...

Part 13 Promotions The lights of Abyss shimmered off high-polish marble and velvet drapery, casting a moody, intoxicating glow across the main lounge. Patrons drifted like shadows, adorned in latex, leather, and the quiet confidence of secrecy. Elise stood by the glass rail above them, surveying the room like a queen in her court. Her satin blouse hugged her frame perfectly, a subtle contrast to the rigid formality worn by others. She preferred leather, velvet, or satin - never rubber. Rubber, she liked on others. She liked it tight, hot, sweaty and humiliating. She called it her rule, whenever she got the opportunity to dominate another member: Rubberization Rules. ...

Part 18 Lena and Mina’s Reckoning The date of the invitation had finally arrived. The oppressive glow of Club Abyss loomed once more as Lena and Mina prepared for what they knew would be their final confrontation. Their journey had been fraught with torment and near-escapes, but tonight, the endgame was clear. They would face Evelyn - the once untouchable hostess of the club - and settle the score for good. The crimson glow of the unmarked entrance flickered ominously as Lena and Mina descended the familiar staircase. The air was thick with anticipation, the music a distant hum that grew louder with each step. ...

Part 44 The Second Circle of Hell Relieved but exhausted, they set the dildo down. It had taken almost a month to make it through the song. The phone buzzed almost immediately with a new notification: “Congratulations. Your next piece is ‘Abyss: The Second Circle of Hell.’ Duration: 4 minutes and 25 seconds.”, combined with another link. Mina stared at the screen, her heart sinking. “This isn’t going to stop, is it? There are seven circles in hell.” ...

Part 23 Coming Out of the Closet The dim glow of Abyss’ signature red lights reflected off the glossy surfaces of the club, casting an almost sinister sheen over the room. Evelyn stood on the elevated stage, her piercing gaze sweeping across the crowd. It was one of the quieter nights, yet the tension in the air was palpable. Two women, Emma and Celeste, dressed in latex catsuits, stood at the foot of the stage, their expressions taut with animosity. ...

Part 7 Duel The whispers of Mina’s performance echoed through the underground scene, each tale bolder than the last. The thought of her best friend enduring such agony filled Lena with rage. She knew she couldn’t let this stand. Evelyn had gone too far. That night, Lena stood once more outside Abyss, the steel doors looming before her. She wasn’t here to dance; she was here for answers - and retribution. The thought of her best friend enduring such agony filled Lena with anger and guilt. Mina had gone without her - alone. And worse, she had fallen into a trap Lena should have seen coming. She knew she couldn’t let this stand. ...

Part 51 Hooked 2 Ana sat curled in the corner of her sleek, high-rise apartment, comforted in a heavy, oversized sweater she had once thought decadent and now found insufficient. The amber glow of early evening filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows over the polished floor, but none of it could touch the cold stillness in her limbs. She hadn’t moved for an hour. The lights remained off. The only sound was the gentle hum of the purifier and the distant pulse of city traffic far below. Even her tablet - always glowing, always updating - lay untouched on the kitchen counter. There was no appetite. No curiosity. Only a steady, intrusive quiet. ...

Part 19 Love Triangle The following weekend, the dark pulse of Abyss thrummed in the air as Evelyn stood on the elevated stage, her cold gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd. The contenders were arguing in the lounge. Elise and Nadia. Both women were poised, their rivalry palpable as they locked eyes, neither willing to back down. Nadia sat at a lounge table, clad in black matte latex. Her every movement shimmered with tension, and though her pose was statuesque, her fingers betrayed her - tapping slowly against the curve of her thigh. Her eyes tracked Elise like a blade seeking a throat. ...

Part 27 Pillow Nicoleta had known the denial would be difficult - twelve months in a belt was not a casual punishment - but she hadn’t known it would begin to unmake her. The days were manageable. The nights were not. Her body didn’t sleep anymore; it throbbed. Her thoughts came slow, distracted, and always, always circled back to the absence between her thighs. To the slow grind of time and steel. ...

Part 15 Quiz The month that followed Evelyn’s offer became a crucible of obsession for Elise. Her modern apartment, normally pristine and austere in tone, transformed into a war room. Texts on folklore, thick books with gold-embossed covers and fragile pages, lay open across the counters. She had a dozen tabs open on her laptop: Romanian vampire mythology, European witch trials, vampire films from the 1920s to the streaming era. Her morning routine now included a review of Dracula film adaptations. Her fitness sessions were overlaid with audiobook lectures on Slavic mysticism. ...

Part 32 Razor’s Edge The oppressive atmosphere of Abyss embraced Lena and Mina like a welcoming cloak as they stepped through the club’s steel doors, their identities concealed behind black leather stilettos in which their latex socks were visible. An eye which would dare to wander higher would gaze over the legs of a black latex catsuit, complete with gloves. Even higher, one would see full latex face masks, completed by gas masks strapped to their heads. Not a sliver of skin was visible. These sweat-inducing outfits allowed them to move through the crowd unnoticed, concealing their true identities from the familiar eyes that might seek them out. Only a very skilled, or very intrusive eye for that matter, would notice the slightly elevated nipple, poking outwards, as if trying to burst through the rubber. Nor would it notice the slight bump in their crotch, as if they were hiding a big coin in that unusual location. ...

Part 50 Ripples The New Year’s duel between Emma and Celeste had not only captivated the attendees of the event but quickly spread far beyond the confines of Abyss. The club’s social media team wasted no time, uploading a carefully curated series of photos and videos. This time, however, only Celeste’s face was blurred in the posts. Emma’s identity was unmistakably clear in Abyss’ social feed, her coworkers having witnessed her performance firsthand. They had been there, cheering her on and marveling at her determination, even as the stakes became devastatingly clear. ...

Lena In the pulsating heart of an Eastern European capitol, where shadows danced with neon lights, lay an underground haven for those seeking the unconventional - The Abyss Club. The club was a sanctuary for latex fetishists, a place where the boundaries of pleasure were constantly pushed. Lena had heard whispers about Club Abyss from friends who thrived on the city’s underground nightlife. At 31 years old, she was well established in the city’s underground fetish and techno scene. The club was known for its wild, unrestrained energy, a place where the line between reality and fantasy blurred, promising to perfectly combine fetish with music. Curious and seeking an escape from her monotonous routine, Lena decided to see it for herself. A notorious underground fetish club hidden in the back alleys of the city. A place where the music pulsed like a living heartbeat, drawing in thrill-seekers and curious souls alike. ...

Part 12 Ultimate Dance Duel The dark allure of Abyss was a siren call Lena could no longer ignore. Mina’s time in the Needle Frame had left her emotionally charged, and Lena’s guilt had festered into annoyance. Evelyn had tricked them both, and now Lena was back - not for the thrill, but for answers. The steel doors of Abyss loomed before her, cold and unyielding. This time, Lena didn’t feel the usual trepidation. She felt only resolve. Pushing the doors open, she stepped into the club, the pulsing beat of the music echoing through her veins. The crowd was alive, dancing to the relentless rhythm, but Lena’s focus was solely on the stage where Evelyn waited. ...

Part 3 Dress Up Two months later, Lena stood once more outside the steel doors of Abyss, her pulse quickening as the muffled bass thrummed against her chest. It had been not too long now since her own harrowing dance in the Stilettos of the Languished Arches, but the experience had left a mark deeper than any physical wound. Here she was, drawn back by an inexplicable force, the event having been too exotic, too strange, too kinky. The Hostess too seductive, too domineering. ...

Part 48 Company Woes Emma’s workplace was abuzz with excitement as the year drew to a close. Rachel, Emma’s manager, had orchestrated a bold and unconventional plan for the company’s New Year’s celebration. She had made arrangements for the party to be hosted at Abyss, the infamous underground club that had become the focal point of office gossip ever since Emma’s supposed involvement in a duel there. The breakroom chatter was relentless. ...

Part 16 Vanity The pulse of Abyss pulsed through the air, the club thick with fog and anticipation. The scent of latex, faint perfume, and electricity hovered like a veil over the main stage, where Evelyn stood elevated before a riveted crowd. On either side of her stood the evening’s rivals: Astrid, statuesque and proud in a tailored latex ensemble in storm-gray, her shoulders sharp and her corset tightly laced; and Teodora, her curves gleaming beneath a liquid metal latex catsuit that shimmered with the stage lights. ...

Part 21 Balance over the Abyss What happened a few weeks ago at Abyss… The New Year’s party at Abyss was always a spectacle of shadows and sound, the air charged with anticipation as the clock edged closer to midnight. The club’s usual electric atmosphere was amplified by the promise of a special event - a dance competition unlike any other. Revelers crowded the floor, their eyes darting towards the stage where Evelyn stood with a commanding presence. ...

Part 40 Enduring Somewhere in the city, Nadia sat on the edge of her bed, her breathing shallow as she stared at the glossy black suit laid out before her. The rubber shimmered under the dim light of her bedroom, a cruel reminder of her penance. Five weeks of relentless confinement had left her utterly drained, her mind and body struggling to endure the suffocating embrace of the Rubber Suit of Resolve. ...

Part 10 Framed Darkness enveloped the basement of Abyss, a space far removed from the pulsating energy of the club above. The air was thick, hot and humid. In the center of the room, the grotesque metal frame hung suspended, its cold, gleaming structure casting eerie shadows against the walls. Mina hung in the Needle Frame, stripped naked and shimmering in a sheen of oil, her body stretched and immobilized by metal clamps around her waist, wrists and ankles in to an X, face down. Her weight was supported just enough to keep her from collapsing, leaving her suspended in the air like a puppet. Above and below her, racks of needles gleamed in the dim light, their sharp points poised mere millimeters from her skin. ...

Part 53 Longing Ana stood once again at the threshold of Abyss, the scent of latex and velvet drifting out through the half-shuttered entrance like incense from a temple, cloying and familiar. The wind whipped gently through her coat, but she didn’t feel the cold. Not really. It was heat she lived in now - not fire, not warmth, but the deep internal friction of a body denied, restrained, relentlessly aware of itself. ...

Part 29 The Desire of Suffering “Mistress, eh?” Mina mocked her. Lena sheepishly looked down at her feet, the pain still lingering from the day before. Especially her toes, oh god those nail needles. “You really were ready to submit?” Mina insisted. “In that moment, the way she looked into my eyes, yes. She knew we had found our orgasms again. She knew exactly what she was doing when she screwed the caps in place.” Lena paused for a moment, then continued “she knew she was taken our orgasms away again. I’d submit to anything to not have her secure the caps on our rings.” ...

Part 49 Hooked Ana stood behind the curtains, the hidden part of the stage, her heart thudding a slow, deliberate rhythm against her ribs. The air was cool, laced with the scent of latex polish and aged velvet. From beyond the crimson curtain, she could hear the hum of the crowd, their voices a low throb of anticipation. She was dressed in nothing but her black latex catsuit, so tight it molded her body like wet ink. The Stilettos of the Languished Arches waited on a velvet cushion beside her. They gleamed under the soft stage light - elegant, spiked monstrosities. The insoles lined with embedded pain: fine-tipped nodules arranged with brutal precision, calibrated to reward stillness and punish imbalance. ...

Part 41 A secret meeting The café was warm, its ambiance stitched together from polished brass fixtures, the soft clink of ceramic cups, and quiet jazz bleeding through the speakers overhead. It perched on the corner of a quiet street, out of view from the more frequented spots where Abyss’s usual clientele might gather. Discretion had been critical. Nadia arrived first. Her heels clicked too sharply on the stone sidewalk, each step a reminder of what clung to her beneath the long, charcoal-gray coat. Her full-body latex suit hugged every inch of her like a second skin - glossy black, gloves added on top of her ensemble. The outline of her chastity belt clearly visible under the tight garment. Six weeks. That had been the deal. Six weeks of wearing the suit for 112 hours each week. She had thought it would be manageable. ...

Part 36 Rubber By now, almost two years had passed since Nadia’s humiliating defeat at the hands of Elise and her partner Alexandru, yet the chastity belt locked securely around her hips remained a constant reminder of her failure. It had become a part of her, unyielding and merciless, amplifying every moment of her frustration. Though she had tried to focus on her work and daily life, the unfulfilled longing gnawed at her, leaving her irritable and reckless. ...

Part 31 Wager Ana had stopped marking the days on her calendar. At first, she had kept meticulous count - each square filled with a neat, red X, ticking down the days of her chastity sentence like a prisoner awaiting release. But after month six, something shifted. The marks stopped. Not because she forgot, but because it began to feel pointless. The weight of the belt, the grinding routine of her humiliating weekends in Abyss, and the persistent ache of denied relief had eroded her resolve to the point of numbness. ...

Part 34 Glass Towers and Rubber Dreams The view from Elise’s penthouse was, by any external measure, breathtaking. Towering above the city, the glass walls of her living room framed the urban sprawl in precise, shimmering lines - a painting crafted not by hand but by ambition, steel, and cold fortune. Below, a thousand lives pulsed through ribbons of traffic, their destinations meaningless to her, their desires irrelevant. The skyline was a testament to conquest, each building a monument to someone’s accumulation of wealth and status, and yet to Elise, it was little more than a reflection of the emptiness she could not name. ...

Part 20 Despair Almost a year had passed since Lena and Mina had been cursed with the Caps of Despair, and the pain of their loss still clung to them like a second skin. They were barred from enjoying their most intimate parts, their bodies refusing to give in to the peaks of pleasure. After the piercings had fully healed, Lena, and Mina, each on their own, fought with the permanent presence of the caps. The constant ever so slight outwards pull of the center rod on their clits was impossible to ignore. Their pearls were hovering just shy of the sharp needles of the cap’s insides. Especially Mina, who always was a slave to her own desires had a hard time coming to terms with her new reality. Masturbation was still her favorite to pass the time on her evenings, but while dildos, toys and penetration worked fine, intercourse did not. They did find their ways back together. Bound by desires and shared suffering. Scissoring with Lena proved to be very painful with the Caps of Despair on, they found out quickly after their healing period was over. For both of them, unfortunately, penetration was never enough to reach the crest of lust. Orgasms seemed to be a thing of the past, at least for now. ...

Part 14 The Game Within the Game Lena and Mina stood outside the steel doors of Abyss, their nerves hidden beneath a veil of confidence. They were ready to issue a challenge, to throw the gauntlet into the ring. It had been weeks since Lena’s new piercing and torment in The Bane of Rest Boots and the Needle Frame. The pain and suffering had hardened them both, and tonight, they were back - not as victims, but as challengers. ...

Part 54 The Seventh Circle of Hell One orgasm and weeks later, the air was thick with tension as Lena and Mina reached the final moments of the Seventh Circle of Hell. The clarinet danced between them, their breaths synchronized, moving in unison as one single organism. The three-hour marathon had pushed them to their limits, the spikes within the instrument pressing painfully reminding them to sync back up. Deepest pushes into their apices to keep the clarinet smooth. Yet, they persevered, driven by the hope of finally breaking free from the curse that bound them. Lena’s Cap of Despair seemed alive, more so, it felt angry when she reached her peak, seemingly fitting tighter, feeling warmer and trying to bite into her clitoris, as if the needles underneath were tiny fangs. Her orgasms were not free of pain. But it could also just be her imagination, combined with the rush of her delayed orgasm and her clit swelling towards the inner needle lining of the Cap. ...

Part 56 Evelyn Evelyn paced the dimly lit confines of her private chamber, the ever-present thrum of Abyss pulsing through the walls. Each night, the same haunting thoughts plagued her: Lena and Mina, somewhere out there, mastering the cursed clarinet and preparing to challenge her. The image of Lena standing victorious, ready to strip Evelyn of her position and consign her to the needle coffin, haunted her every waking moment. ...

Part 5 Mina Lena was about to return to Abyss again. Perhaps it was the nagging curiosity, her thirst for more drama, the air surrounding the vampire-like hostess, or maybe it was the persistent pleading from her best friend, Mina. Ever since Lena had mentioned the club’s infamous dance trials, Mina had been insistent on seeing it for herself. At 27 years old, she was enthusiastic about anything BDSM, and always jumped at every opportunity to visit any kinky event. Lena’s memory of her last visit was still fresh - the drama, the duels, the moment her own signature sealed her fate with the club. Her blood still hummed with the intoxicating thrill of it. ...

Part 17 After the breath Astrid’s drive home was luckily uneventful, apart from some drivers at a red light who ogled her black and faceless form behind her wheel. She just focussed on looking straight ahead. She dashed from the parking lot to her apartment, as quick as the suit allowed. Astrid’s apartment - a modest, two-bedroom unit - became her entire world for the week, and even navigating its familiar spaces felt alien under the suit’s constraints. ...

Part 26 The Weight of Endurance Ana had begun to lose track of time. It was strange, how life could twist around one unyielding center. The chastity belt Evelyn had locked onto her body - clinical, cold, impossibly secure - had become the axis upon which her entire existence now turned. Not a moment passed that she wasn’t aware of it: the subtle pinch of the internal plug, the pressure on her hips, the smooth yet implacable edges biting into her skin with every motion. Her body no longer moved freely, not truly. She had learned to adapt, to shift her posture and gait so the belt didn’t press too cruelly into her flesh. But no amount of adaptation would mute the ache building day by day. ...

Part 33 Lysa Lysa had always considered herself composed. Measured. A woman of calculated moves and meticulously managed appearances. She knew how to read a room, how to enter and exit conversations with poise, how to keep her reputation immaculate while weaving just enough intrigue to remain relevant. She had survived boardroom politics, venture negotiations, and the occasional romantic entanglement with barely a wrinkle in her routine. And yet, on that particular Friday night in Abyss, within the heat-hushed walls of the Amber Vault and under the low-lit velvet ambiance that made everything feel slightly unreal, her control slipped. ...

Part 25 Invitation In summer, many more months into Lena’s and Mina’s suffering, they found a small, fragile solace - their nipples. They had not returned to Abyss, yet, but pondered the possibility, now that their ban has ended. Though they could no longer masturbate by pleasuring their clits directly, they allowed themselves to gently be taken to the sensual feelings emanating from the touch of their nipples. It wasn’t the same, but it was enough to keep their spirits from breaking entirely. Nipple play became their sanctuary, combined with dildo play and fingering, they found a quiet rebellion against the curse of the Caps of Despair that had stripped them of their joy. They found via many nights of trial and error, it only worked in certain positions, the receiving partner on her knees, to ease the Cap as much as possible while her clitoris stood erect, its tip grazing into the needles. An exquisite pain, but the lust and desire prevailed. ...

Part 37 Rubber By now, almost two years had passed since Nadia’s humiliating defeat at the hands of Elise and her partner Alexandru, yet the chastity belt locked securely around her hips remained a constant reminder of her failure. It had become a part of her, unyielding and merciless, amplifying every moment of her frustration. Though she had tried to focus on her work and daily life, the unfulfilled longing gnawed at her, leaving her irritable and reckless. ...

CHAPTER 1 ON A COOL summer night in Prague, there’s no club more Insta-worthy than NERO in the estimation of Gina Maddis and her fellow travelers. The eight girls have been in Europe for nearly a month now, cutting loose on their summer break. Gina’s coming out of the bathroom, fresh off a line, when her eye catches on a young man sitting at the blue-lit bar. He’s got dark hair and a cast to his features that suggest he’s a local, but something in his eyes and his slight smirk have her curious. ...

The Halloween Dinner Belle pulled the mail from her box in the lobby, quickly sorting as she walked. There was the usual junk mail, a couple items for her roommate and a jet black envelope addressed to her. She felt a little flip flop in her chest as she read the return address. It was from Rick and Jill. As she entered the shared apartment Belle dropped the mail on the sideboard. Christina, her roommate would pick out what she wanted and discard the rest. For Belle, it was more important to slip into her bedroom and read the note from the couple who had so wonderfully and mercilessly tied her up. ...

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. ...

“Come in! Come in. I’m so glad you were able to make it. Thank you for helping me out on such short notice.” He found himself in her studio, just off campus. Statues filled the space - all reflections of the human form, but suggestions. All of them were perhaps best described as “mummiforms” - the suggestion of human shapes beneath draped volumes, suggesting softly lain sheets and incalculably tight wrappings simultaneously. It was equal parts artistic and disturbing. ...

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. ...

Part 1 There’s something I’ve always wanted to try: mummification. The whole nine yards, head to toe, sensory deprivation, and being ignored like a good little object. That day was to be the day. It all started at the crossroads of opportunity and desire, I had a rare weekend off with no plans and I was feeling really… submissive. Long story short, and although I can recommend the experience, I cannot recommend you do this at home or elsewhere: I put out a request on a fetish community website. That’s how I got to know him. The kinda weirdo to respond to an ad about wrapping a dude up. ...

Under Her Winter Spell: A Journey Into Femdom Hypnosis Chapter 1 The cabin was beautiful but isolated. It looked a little like a place one might film a holiday Hallmark movie, James thought. Tall pine trees surrounded the humble cabin, all lightly covered with white snow. This high up in the mountains there was already a layer of snow that crunched under his feet as he hauled his suitcase up the front steps of the cabin. There was a bite to the air and he shook snowflakes out of his hair as he unlocked the door. ...

Episode 7: The County Fair Isabel opened her eyes to find Charlotte’s face barely inches from her own. The blonde was sleeping, face relaxed, soft pink lips gently parted. She was wearing some sort of harness, a narrow black leather strap running around her forehead and another across the bridge of her nose linked to it by a metal ring, two more ran down across her cheeks to rings at the corners of her mouth and there, between her white teeth was a black bar; not a harness but a bridle of some sort. Even like this, Isabel thought, Charlotte was beautiful, her eyes closed, those long golden lashes, blonde hair tousled intertwined with straps running around her head. ...

2: The (un)willing test pilots The Gritek Industries Research Center loomed menacingly over the outskirts of Newhaven. As a technology leader in micro-robotics and nanotechnology, top secret tools for security technology and military appliances are being developed here… as far as the company management was concerned. “No no no!” Cassandra Adela von Rabensprung’s annoyed voice echoed through Test Hall C. “Charm, elegance, Grazie! This is supposed to be a promotional video, not a horror movie! Nobody will invest in us if you keep flopping across the floor like a fish out of water. Let’s start over again!” ...

Part 6 I sighed to myself as I stepped out of the restaurant where I worked onto the street. It had been a long day in what had been two very long weeks. After last week’s girls night Hanna’s mood had changed. No longer interested in edging me, she’d simply pushed two Geisha balls inside me. The round steel balls were connected by a short chain and had kept me wetter than an otter’s pocket the whole week! The chastity belt had been locked over the top of it and that was that! She had withdrawn into herself, suffering quietly and apart from my nightly spankings had pretty much spent the week alternately sulking and grumpily cuddling me. Her own neediness, caused by her belt, had left her crying herself to sleep every night. ...

Part Two *CLANG CLANG CLANG* “Time to get up girls, I have your breakfast and your outfits for the day. Once you’ve eaten and dressed we will begin your morning exercise routine, Master Lenix will be returning this evening so you must be prepared for his inspection,” Charles announced from the other side of the cell doors. A week had passed since Hana and I were first brought to the Lenix estate, and the reality of our new lives had slammed into us day one. Shortly after Hana’s forced video session he had dragged her away for the night while his butler Charles had escorted me to my cell. The cell itself wasn’t too bad, but the cold steel bars and the heavy lock were a constant reminder of my captivity. ...

Part 10 Chapter 45: Interview with the Vampire Beside Ellie, the blondes screamed as the two vampires continued to feed on their victim. The only one apparently unaffected was the blindfolded redhead mounted on the pole who seemed to be oblivious to the fate of the man and continued to writhe with lust, the weights on her nipples swinging wildly and her moans, louder now, mingling with the screams of the blondes. ...

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. ...

Part One “Sir, your SUV will be around momentarily,” the receptionist’s voice was a soft murmur that seemed to come from a world away as Lenix and I stood in the lobby of the Resort’s main building. The grandeur of the marble floors, the crystal chandeliers, and the velvet-covered walls served as a harsh contrast to the reality of my newfound ownership. The lobby was bustling with guests in their Halloween finery, a cacophony of their laughter and conversations with many of them showing off their newfound “prizes” on leashes. The juxtaposition of their gleeful banter with the heavy silence that hung around Lenix and it was a grim reminder of the reality behind the masquerade. My heart raced with each tick of the grand clock above the entrance, its opulent gold face seeming to mock the passage of time that brought me closer to my fate. ...

Final Girl Laurie Hypnotizes Hans the Butcher to Escape Camp Happy Trails! Camp Happy Trails had a kind of vibe that Laurie thought was classic and outdoorsy in a fun way, though she could have done with a nicer shower setup. Still, she managed to keep her pretty blonde hair well-groomed and her skin clean. Only Laurie could pull off the camp-aesthetic so well while also maintaining her bratty, confident persona. She wasn’t down to earth; she was above it. Her cut-off jean shorts and t-shirt looked as good on her as designer clothes did on other people. ...

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 5 “This is bullshit!” Bunny exclaimed, pacing back and forth in her new getup. The guards and stylists had come and gone, once they’d finally reached our cells they dressed the women across from us. Then it was our group’s turn and what they had left behind was a group of women in a menagerie of scantily clad costumes. Lacie looked like she had just stepped out of a cartoon, purple elbow length gloves paired with a sparkly figure-hugging strapless red dress and a neckline that plunged so low it threatened to spill her breasts out at any moment. Her hair had been styled into a long waterfall of shiny waves that cascaded over her shoulders and covered one side of her face. The dress had an incredibly long slit that went up to her hip, revealing her long smooth legs that ended in a pair of red sparkly stilettos that matched the dress perfectly. ...

Episode 6: Kink’s Kinky Kingdom (Part 2) ‘Led’s ged on with id, schall we?’ Tiffany said, walking towards the now open doors. Isabel gazed mutely at Charlotte over her gag. She craved to be held for a little longer; surely it wasn’t too much to ask to relish that post-orgasm bliss; she thought the other girl understood, gazing back with a similar mute eloquence then the blonde lifted her from the phallus and deposited her onto the rubber floor before turning to follow the others. ...

Ch.10 Dollhouse Romp Lisa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She’d somehow managed to fall half-asleep in her cage, even while the vibroshock buzzed and jolted her unpredictably. It seemed like she must have been in and out of the strange half-dream she’d been having for most of the day, but Barbie was claiming it wasn’t even noon yet. Behind Mittens’ cartoonish feline mask, Lisa’s face would have looked flabbergasted, mortified, and practically panicked. She looked up and found the face of the strange rubber woman in a maid’s outfit, who Lisa assumed must be Samantha, but whom Barbie had apparently renamed Mimi, with her pinprick viewholes. Mimi was looking back down at her, her lifeless blue doll eyes staring into Mittens’ anime-style eyes’ vertical-slit pupils. ...

Let me introduce myself before I relate to you a story of an accident that happened involving liquid latex. I am an assistant at a lab that developed a way to permanently encase people in latex by soaking them in a liquid form of it. Since the procedure is irreversible, applicants have to go through a rigorous vetting process to ensure they truly understand the impact their decision will have on the rest of their lives. ...

From Vanilla to Her Virtual Control!Chapter 1 Bruce shrugged off his jacket, stretching to crack his back as he made his way to his computer. He kicked off his pants, his underwear, and threw himself down onto his well-worn seat. He was practically shaking from his need to log onto his favorite porn sites, his cock already throbbing. This was his daily routine, and his body was primed for the masturbation session he was about to indulge in. The next few hours of his life would be consumed by the pretty girls on his screen. He’d eat whatever he could that involved the least amount of time away from his computer, get just enough sleep to be able to work tomorrow, and start the cycle over again the next day. He stroked himself as he watched his videos, mostly vanilla porn with the same actresses he’d been watching for years. On that particular day, he couldn’t seem to find the right video, couldn’t seem to get into it. But he couldn’t pull himself away from the screen, either. Just stop watching, he told himself, even as he clicked on another video. Just shut it off. He doesn’t and two hours of his life slipped away. He realized, as he finally got close to cumming, that he didn’t even want to jack off. It had just become a habit. He frowned at the girl on his screen. She was pressing her naked tits together, making her nude, soft flesh spill out of the top of her shirt. She gave the camera a sexy smile, making a face. He came, but his heart wasn’t in it. As he wiped the remainder of his cum off his cock and threw away the tissue, he felt the shame setting in. Bruce was wasting his life on porn. He was obsessed with it, knew intimate details about his favorite actresses’ online drama, followed them on X, subscribed to so many Loyalfans accounts he could never keep up with them all. It had started to make him feel numb. He felt disgusting and out of control. His life was porn, and he was spiraling. I’m a porn addict, he thought. I have a problem. He opened a new tab, grimacing at all his recent searches, at every suggestion. It was all porn. He cleared his browser history, reset his cookies, and deleted all his bookmarks. He was serious about the change this time, he told himself. He googled “porn addiction help” and clicked on the first article, “10 Telltale Signs of Porn Addiction: How Majesty Natalie’s Resources Can Help!” He exhaled deeply, proud of himself for starting down this road of recovery. He felt better already. He was going to beat this. He was going to get better. As he’s reading the first lines of the article his screen flashed. He barely noticed, even as it began to fully glitch, the article flashing in and out of view, replaced by a series of photos of a young woman. Bruce’s mind was encaptured, his attention drawn to his screen. He couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to look away. Everything outside of his computer screen was hazy and out of focus. On the screen, the woman smiled at him. She was cute, with a natural makeup look, full lips that smiled sweetly, even as her eyes were dark with something dubious. She had long black hair and was petite, with a tight, juicy ass and small tits. She wore tight, athletic-like clothing that Bruce almost felt he could touch, if he could just reach out and stroke the screen. He couldn’t, though, because he found his hand drawn to his cock. He had started to stroke himself, even without realizing it. He tried to stop, but he couldn’t focus on controlling his hand. All he could do was watch the girl on his screen, Natalie, her body, her face. She’s so sexy, Bruce couldn’t look away. He was enchanted by her, compelled by each little movement she made. She’d wiggle her hips and he’d feel a rush, a real head rush. She’d toss her hair over her shoulder, adjusting her position on her seat, and he’d feel light-headed. She was magnificently gorgeous. In all of the pictures and videos that flooded and overwhelmed his screen, he never saw her naked. In a way, it made each flash of flesh—her stomach when she wore a sports bra, her legs when she wore shorts, her collarbones peeking out from a loose collar, her thin arms—feel significant. She had a perfect belly, toned and tanned. When she traced her fingers over her skin, Bruce literally shivered. The virus spread, the computer completely glitching out, but Bruce couldn’t stop watching the screen for each and every view of Natalie. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew his computer had been compromised. But he couldn’t make himself care or react. Of all the girls he’s ever jacked off to, she was the best. There was just something about her that made all the blood rush to his cock, and he couldn’t help but stroke himself aggressively, even as his computer froze and flashed. “My little click slut,” an innocent voice from the speakers said, Natalie’s voice. “Loser! Loser! Double loser!” She laughed. Bruce let out a hopeless groan, his mind blank except for her voice and thoughts of her tight little body. An image of her, back to, flashed on the screen. She squeezed her asscheeks together, tensing the muscles there, and all Bruce wanted in the world was to squeeze her body, to touch her himself. He wanted it so badly he couldn’t even articulate it in his own head. His mind was a hazy, thick blur of need for Majesty Natalie. He wasn’t sure where he was anymore, or even who he was. He was Natalie’s click slut, he supposed. She flashed a bratty grin. She was adorable. “My click slut. Buy my clips more than once. Buy my clip 100 times! Do it now, click slut. I know your mind is gone, but I need you to focus enough to do this for me…” He felt himself nodding, and, with his free hand, he purchased every clip in her store, 100 times, downloading file after file of his new porn Princess. He opened them, one after another, his hand relentless on his cock, nearly chafing the skin. There was Natalie, showing off her new costumes. Natalie, tiny feet near the screen, wiggling her toes as she talked about her shopping, Natalie, ignoring him, Natalie, touching herself through her clothes, teasing him with her covered pussy, squeezing her small breasts. It was all too much for Bruce. He couldn’t focus on anything but the overwhelming attraction he felt for her, the pleasure that coursed through his body as he looked at her tight tan body. Soon, he felt himself tensing, and then he exploded, cumming harder than he had in years, groaning out Natalie’s name. Slowly, he regains enough of his mind to hear Majesty Natalie’s words on the video he’d been watching. “You’re going to come back to this video over and over.” She giggled. “Spend. Send. Do it again.” she taunted. “You’re going to have to get off to me every hour of every day. You need this.” She touched her body, and Bruce nodded at the screen, knowing she was right. Chapter 2 Bruce had been watching Natalie’s videos for months. He’d seen them all. He’d paid extra to see them earlier than her other followers. He knew it was a problem, but he couldn’t stop. Anytime he’d so much as think of the little Latina his cock would stiffen. Her sexy, condescending cruel voice constantly whispered to him, convincing him to forget whatever plan he’d made and instead take his cock in his hand and jack off to her. He had spent all of his money and started to dip into the joint account with his wife. She’d begun taking notice, questioning him. He knew if he didn’t get his addiction under control he’d lose her, he was surprised he hadn’t already. In a last ditch effort to break himself from the spell Majesty Natalie had him under, he unfollowed her on social media. Next, he tried to block her fansite, but found himself drawn in, his hand already stroking his cock as she spoke to him through the screen, telling him he couldn’t quit her. “You can leave,” she said, “but you’ll be back. You’re such a pathetic goontard for me, you can’t live without me.” She was doing stretches, her toned, muscular body in tight athletic wear that showed off her sexy, petite form. She smiled sweetly at the camera. “The more money you give me, the longer I hold this stretch.” With that, she bent over, her tight little ass in the air, the outline of her pussy visible through the stretchy fabric of her yoga pants. Bruce somehow managed to log out of the page, and he swiftly blocked it before she could pull him back in with her greedy smile. His addiction to Majesty Natalie clips was so bad, he missed when he’d just been a regular porn addict. He wiped his computer clean, clearing her videos from his device, throwing away a hard drive full of them. He went through the rest of the day feeling like a zombie. He found himself back at his computer more than once, his body going through the motions of opening Natalie’s videos before he remembered that he’d deleted them all. His thoughts kept going back to her. He didn’t know what he was if he wasn’t her…what did she call him? A Gooner. He didn’t know what to do if it wasn’t to watch her, spend money on her, think about her, jack off to her. He needed to clear his head, distract himself. He knew that he was a porn addict, but surely porn would be better than Natalie, and it would help fill the hole in them that missing her had left. He searched for the most vanilla content he could find, trying to recapture how he used to feel watching the videos of his favorite porn stars. He watched couples fucking, big tits bouncing, models moaning sexily. It hardly had any effect on him at all. He scrolled through endless videos, and the only ones that gave him a fraction of satisfaction were ones that reminded him of Natalie, girls with small breasts and toned stomachs, porn princesses with pigtails and tan skin. But even they couldn’t get his cock hard. After hours of searching, Bruce began to feel helpless. He realized he was Natalie’s completely. She had broken him, or maybe he had already been broken, and she had only broken him further. He couldn’t get off to anything normal. He wasn’t normal. He couldn’t have sex with his wife. He couldn’t jack off to nudity. It was only Natalie for him, forever. His shame swelled inside him and finally, his cock started to stiffen. Tears collected in his eyes as he realized he was growing hard from his own shame, since it reminded him of Majesty Natalie and the way she made him feel. As the realization hit him, his tears fell, dripping onto his cock. He was completely reliant on Natalie to cum, to get hard, even to feel arousal. His whole world was her, and he was helpless to stop it. He found himself unblocking her, even as his tears streaked down his cheeks. He’d have to resubscribe, he realized. He’d have to download all the videos he’d taken months to find and purchase. It was going to cost all of his money, and his wife’s money, too. She was going to divorce him, she’d have no choice. He found some of his favorite videos first, and downloaded them all. He opened the first one that loaded, a short clip of Natalie showing off her outfit while she sat on her bed. She shot the video on her phone, holding it above her head as she smiled into the camera. He started to jack off before the video even loaded, his body tense and ready, his mind finally relaxing into its familiar pattern. He felt like a drug addict who’d just been given a pill, the effects of it impacting him even before he’d swallowed it. “Hi loser!” she said. “Look at my outfit today.” She moved the camera down to show off her crop top, a sheer white shirt with pink sleeves, her cute belly exposed below the shirt. Her nipples were visible through the fabric, and she rubbed her tits as she gave a little fake moan, making fun of him while she did it. He gripped his cock harder, stroking himself relentlessly. His orgasm was building stronger and faster than he was used to. She switched the view of the camera so the only thing he could see were her legs. She moved her thighs together, soft skin rubbing against soft skin, then angled the camera to show only her lower legs. He would have emptied his bank account just to be able to lick the sole of her shoe, and she knew it. She wore bright white socks that contrasted beautifully with her tanned skin. Her sneakers were also white, and she wiggled her feet, turning her feet inward so her toes touched. Bruce gave a mighty groan, knowing that this was all she had to do to control him completely, to make him cum, to make himself give up his life in the pursuit of one more orgasm watching her. He was obsessed with every part of her, every hair on her head to the bottom of her feet. He came, harder than he ever had before, his shame and pleasure building and exploding in unison. He was Majesty Natalie’s. Chapter 3 Bruce had just gotten off the phone with his ex-wife. He’d had to beg her for money, which he desperately needed to buy a used pair of Natalie’s socks. She promised they still smelt from when she had peeled them off her petite feet at the gym, and Bruce needed them. He knew, from months and months of watching her videos, that it was his purpose in life to spend money on Majesty Natalie. He existed to fund and, occasionally, amuse her. He knew she was better than him, that his life was worth a fraction of hers, that he was inadequate in all ways. To him she was literally a Goddess. He worshiped her entirely. Owning a pair of her socks would have been like owning prayer beads, ones he could put his pathetic nose to and inhale the scent of her. Even the stink of her feet would have been too good for him, he knew. He’d drained his bank account, and his ex-wife was unwilling to give him money, no matter what excuse he could come up with for needing it. Instead, he pulled out another credit card that would soon be maxed out, purchasing the socks obediently. Natalie had wanted him to do it, so he’d done it. She’d taught him that he was good for nothing, just a stupid goon slut that meant nothing to her. Just as he was about to put the purchase through, he got a message from Natalie. Her phone lines were on! He’d been working up the courage to call her since he’d stumbled on her videos, but he knew he wasn’t good enough to have her sweet voice talking directly to him. He knew he’d make a fool of himself. Plus, it was expensive, nearly ten dollars per minute. But the card he was using was already going to be shut down by the end of the week, and Natalie already thought he was pathetic and a loser. He bought her used socks, and still half hard from the thrill of the purchase, he decided to call her. Hands shaking, he dialed her femdom phone line. “Hello little simp,” Natalie’s voice was cruel and high, her inflection bratty and indifferent. Desire coursed through Bruce. Hearing her speak to him was almost enough to make him lightheaded, in part from all the blood that rushed to his cock in an instant. “Natalie,” he breathed, unable to think of anything else to say. “Goddess Natalie to you,” she said, already sounding bored of the conversation. “I just bought your socks,” Bruce said. “I can’t wait for them to arrive, Goddess Natalie.” “I’ll bet you can’t, bitch. I bet it’s the best thing to happen in your sad life in a while, am I right?” “Yes, Natalie, you’re right,” Bruce hurried to say. “I hope they still smell like you.” Natalie made a non-committal noise of agreement, barely listening to Bruce. He could hear her TV, loud in the background. It was clear paying attention to Bruce was the last of the things Natalie planned to do. The disregard stung, and made Bruce’s cock ache. “I bought your panties awhile back and—” “Are you touching yourself right now, loser?” Natalie cut in, clearly not having been listening to him at all. “Sorry,” she added, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “I’m shopping for new shoes right now. Should I get the white ones with the pink accents or red ones? Which one are you buying for me, you loser wallet?” “Whichever one you want, Goddess. And yes, I’m touching myself. I can’t help but stroke my cock when I think of you.” Natalie giggled. “Yeah, I bet you can’t. I’ll send you a link to the sneakers, you can buy me both. I’m size five.” Bruce groaned, thinking about her tiny feet in shoes that he himself had bought. “Slow down the movements of your hands. You should have waited for me to tell you you could jerk off. You’re so disgusting and pathetic. No wonder you’re such a loser loner. Get on your knees. I want them bruised for me.” Bruce lowered himself to the ground and stroked himself slower. “Yes, Goddess, you’re right. I’m sorry Natalie.” “If you were here I’d make you kiss my toes. But thank god you’re not, you’d make my room smell like desperation. You literally probably stink, all alone in your sweaty nasty goon cave.” There was a long pause where Natalie scrolled, shopping for something else, barely hearing Bruce’s heavy breathing on the other end of the phone. He kept stroking himself slowly. “Oh, are you still here?” She asked, sounding annoyed. “You really are a miserable gooner, aren’t you? I want you to squeeze the base of your tiny cock—is your cock tiny? Just kidding, don’t tell me, I’m sure it is—and watch your pre-cum drip out of your cock for me. Now taste it.” There was a moment’s hesitation before Bruce dipped his fingers in the off-white liquid, and then he brought it to his lips. “I didn’t hear a ‘yes, Goddess,” Majesty Natalie said. “God, you can’t even be a simp correctly. You’re the most hopeless loser I’ve ever talked to. I don’t even care if you die. Only if you’re leaving your money to me.” His cock twitched and he let out a groan. He tasted his own cum in his mouth while he listened to her humiliate him. She was so cruel. His knees hurt. He’d never felt so pathetic, or so turned on. The meaner she got to him the more his cock ached and wanted more. “Have you started to stroke yourself again? You better not have,” she said, sounding more distracted than annoyed. He wasn’t worth even half her attention, and she wasn’t scared to show him that. “I guess you can just run one finger up and down the length of your gross goon stick. Slowly.” “Yes, Majesty Natalie.” Even that sensation drove Bruce mad, he ran his finger up and down his cock, listening to the silence of her ignoring him, wasting his money and his time like he was no more than a piece of trash. “Okay,” Natalie said, finally. “Spit on your hand and stroke yourself fast, as fast as your slow brain can manage. I’m gonna give you a cum countdown.” Bruce whimpered. This was too much to handle. His cock was leaking for her. “10…9…8…7…6…5…” Bruce groaned. His ex-wife could never make him feel this. “…4…3…2…1…Cum for me loser, okay?” Natalie said, distracted by her online shopping. Instantly Bruce spit on his hand, jacking off as fast as he could, fast enough that it made him breathless. “Majesty Natalie, could you—” he was about to ask her to say his name, or even just make a noise, anything for him to get off to, but instead she hung up, and he came to the click of the phone and the knowledge that he was so insignificant to her that she didn’t care if he came or didn’t. As long as she’d gotten his money, as long as he knew he was hers. He came hard, a sob wrecking his body. Pleasure so great it was overwhelming flooded through him as he came, on his knees, with a dead phone line against his ear. He had no regrets. Chapter 4 “Hello stupid goon,” Majesty Natalie said as the video finally loaded. Bruce had spent so much money on this one, as he had for all of her videos. She had recently increased the cost, but it didn’t stop him. He’d do anything for even a glimpse of his porn princess. As soon as he clicked play, a file started to download onto his device, and then another. It was always happening with Natalie’s videos, sometimes freezing his screen, sometimes bugging his computer down with so many viruses he’d have to buy a brand new one the next day. In the new video, Natalie’s hair was down, cascading over her narrow shoulders. She was wearing a bikini that exposed most of her little body, her perfectly shaped belly, her tanned upper thighs. The rest of her legs were covered in thigh-high socks in a light pink that matched the striped bikini. When she leaned forward, Bruce could almost see her nipples from under the bikini. Almost, but not quite, like she didn’t think he deserved to see them, and she probably didn’t. Her clip featured a pink spiral, turning and twisting and making Bruce’s mind feel groggy. He always felt transfixed watching Natalie’s videos, and the power of this one had his brain turning to mush. Even if he had tried to shut the video off, tried to get clean from his overwhelming porn addiction—his addiction to Natalie, in particular—the background pulled him in, kept him hooked. Natalie herself, too, had him feeling like a porn zombie, only able to focus on the way her—the way she moved, the sound of her voice—as she started to talk to him. “How is my idiot cum slut today?” She asked. Bruce felt his stomach twist, thinking about just how literal that term had become for him. Ever since Natalie had made him eat his own cum, he hadn’t been able to get over the humiliation of it. But more than that, he couldn’t get over just how much it had turned him on. “Oh wait! I don’t care. You’re just a human wallet to me. I could care less about your well being. As long as you are able to give me money.” Suddenly, the screen split and a second video loaded. The change caused a fresh wave of glitching on his computer, and for a moment, Bruce panicked. Not about the unequivocal damage that was being done to his computer, but over the possibility that he might lose sight of Natalie. Luckily, she stayed on one of the screens. “Take your dick out, pathetic simp,” Majesty Natalie instructed, and Bruce complied quickly. The second screen had a white background, and right up close to the camera were Natalie’s small hands, gripping a large, realistic looking dildo. In the first screen, she leaned close to the camera, so her perfect face was in the shot. Her big brown eyes made her look innocent, even as her full lips smirked judgmentally, and she wrinkled her nose. “Are you matching my pace, dummy?” She was slowly stroking the dildo. “I want you to go nice and slow, but that shouldn’t be hard for you, should it? Stupid gooner, I’m surprised you can manage anything other than jerking off with how rotted out your porn brain is. You only really think about me, don’t you?” Bruce nodded, feeling his shame bubbling inside him. “You live to jerk off to me. I am your Goddess, and you worship everything about me. You’re pathetic, a loser, nothing without the direction I give you. Your own purpose is to be my simp, to kiss the ground I walk on, to give me all your money. Isn’t that right, loser?” Bruce nodded, feeling the pressure of tears behind his eyes. It was humiliating to know everything she said was true. His life was only worth what he could give to Natalie. And Natalie was so sexy. In one frame, she was gently touching her body. She traced her hands over the parts of her Bruce ached to touch, but knew he didn’t deserve. She ran her hands through her hair, twirling a lock around her fingers. She touched her inner thigh, shivering just a little at her own touch, then dragged her fingers slowly across her stomach. Next, she took her small breasts in her hands, massaging them through the fabric of her bikini. Bruce could barely breathe watching her. All the while, she kept a painfully slow pace on the dildo in the other frame. Bruce felt his arousal rising, he needed to cum, and he needed to taste his salty, pitiful cum again. Just to hear her laugh. “Don’t you even think about cumming until I’ve told you to,” Majesty Natalie scolded, her hand on the dildo stopping. “You’re my stupid little simp, and you’ll cum when I tell you to cum.” She started to move her hand again, and Bruce bucked, his body twitching with the need to cum. He couldn’t believe how tight of a leash Natalie had him on. He felt impossibly ashamed. He felt small, helpless, deplorable, totally and utterly controlled. And part of him liked it. Part of him grew more and more at ease the more he gave himself over to his porn Goddess. “Okay,” Natalie said, the frame with her body showing her touching herself through her bikini bottoms, her finger drawing small circles. “Cum for me, stupid fucking idiot.” Bruce didn’t need to be told twice, cumming into his palm with a grunt. Hesitantly, shamefully, he raised his palm to his lips, shuttering as he started to lap up his cum. He shivered, full of shame and regret as he tasted himself, knowing he was so far beyond help, so immersed in his princess’s world. Just then, his phone rang. He was surprised to see that it was his ex wife. He steadied his breath and picked up. They exchanged pleasantries for a moment, Bruce feeling awful about the fact that his limp dick was still in his lap, and then she cleared her throat. “I guess I’m calling because I miss you.” His ex wife said, and Bruce couldn’t believe his ears. “I’m offering you a second chance. I know you have a problem. But I want us to work.” “I do too,” Bruce hurried to say. “I’ll do whatever I need to to make this work, I promise.” He meant it. He was going to quit Natalie, to overcome his porn addiction. He was tired of his femdom addiction. He wanted his wife back, wanted his life back. He unplugged his computer, carrying the entire thing to the trash. He scrolled to all of Natalie’s accounts on his phone, blocking one after another, deleting everything he’d downloaded. He felt good. He’d never been able to get this far with Natalie before, always becoming distracted by her cutesy smile and the temptation to allow her to tell him just how worthless he knew he was. But this time was different. He was fairly sure he’d deleted it all, and he sat back, sighing. He was ashamed of his addiction, and had let it get too far. This was the fresh start he needed, for him and his wife. His phone chimed. It was an email from Majesty Natalie’s mailing list. New Video! Click here if you’re a submissive simp! Bruce’s thumb hovered over the link… Chapter 5 Bruce was proud of himself for his progress. Did he frequently unblock Natalie and spend an outrageous amount of money to get back the content he had deleted when he tried to quit? Yes. But he would delete it all back again, and he was getting better, going days without getting off to Natalie (which, unfortunately for him, meant days of not getting off at all). He was showing improvement. So when he got a notification from Majesty Natalie’s mailing list advertising a way to quit, he thought it might just be the perfect thing for him. There might have been a voice at the back of his head reminding him that he had stumbled upon Natalie herself the first time he tried to get over his addiction to porn, back when he had been an almost normal person, not Natalie’s simp. He pushed away all his worries, opening the email. “Goonblocker”, the email read, “Is my new program to help pathetic gooners like yourself finally quit porn for good. Watch all my clips and content, but censored! Start downloading here.” The image attached to the email was Majesty Natalie, her hair done up in two braids along either side of her head, her petite chest covered by the words “Goonblocker”, her toned, tan stomach visible. Censored? Pixelated? Bruce didn’t want that at all. It went against all his natural desires. But he knew Natalie. She was smarter than him. She deserved his money, so she’d get as much of it as he could give, and that included re-downloading all of her videos with the Goonblocker censoring her body. His cock throbbed as he downloaded video after video, excited to watch them and help cure himself of porn addiction at last. “New videos to come,” The second paragraph of the email had promised. God, he couldn’t wait. Bruce spent the afternoon watching all of the clips she had censored, waiting for his email to let him know when she uploaded a new one. He had made plans with his wife, but he canceled them, not wanting to miss out on the new pixelated video. “Hello dumb gooner,” Natalie said as soon as Bruce pulled the video up. She was wearing tiny, soft looking white shorts and a matching top, her nipples pressing through the soft fabric. It took Bruce a moment to realize she wasn’t censored, he was so distracted by the expanse of her light brown skin. His cock ached. “So, you’ve realized you’re not worthy enough to look at my body. Took you long enough.” The pixels started to cover her shorts, her top. He could just make out the white color through the pixelation. Bruce is ashamed to realize he’s just as horny at her pixelated body as he was when he could see her, but he can’t stop the video now. Her words just make him feel more humiliated, but that only makes him want to give her more. He pulled up her site, sending her a tribute. Pre-cum leaked from his cock. Try as he might, spending money on Majesty Natalie, his Goddess, made him hard. “You’re probably touching yourself just imagining my ass, aren’t you, degenerate loser?” Natalie said in her bratty voice. She turned around to show her pixelated ass. “God, that’s sad.” The pixelation bubble grew, covering her stomach and upper thighs. Bruce’s hand stroked his cock, even as he felt a sob bubble up in his throat. The pixelation spread further, covering Natalie’s entire body except her sneaker-clad feet. “You don’t deserve to see my face,” Natalie said. “Say it out loud you gooner simp. ‘I don’t deserve to see your face’. I know it makes you so horny to know you’re worthless to me. Except as a human wallet, right?” “I don’t deserve to see your face,” Bruce said, “I don’t deserve you, Natalie.” “While you’re thinking about how much of a miserable porn addict you are, why not send me some more money? Don’t I deserve it for making these videos beta-safe for you? You should pay twice as much for them. Go ahead, give me twice as much as this video cost.” Bruce did, even though he’d just sent her money he gave her more. He’d give her everything if she asked. As soon as the site made the “swoosh” noise that indicated his money was sent he came, Natalie’s bratty voice mocking him, reminding him how much of a brainwashed goon he was. He’d get off to just her feet, the only part of her he deserved. Bruce canceled his plans for the rest of the week, clearing his schedule to make room for the new censored Goonblocker videos. He watched them religiously, even though he knew he had fallen back into his addiction. He’d fallen harder this time, too. But this felt right. Of course he wasn’t good enough to see Natalie’s body, not even her panties. “Look at my new panties,” Natalie said in one video, holding them up to the camera. Bruce could only make out the color through the pixelation: bright pink. “Oh wait, you’re too stupid and pathetic to see them. I’m going to try them on.” The video cut to her wearing them, or, Bruce assumed it was them. He could make out the shiny material through the blur, and she moved her handheld camera over her body, showing a close up between her legs. Bruce leaned into his screen, desperate for even a glimpse of her clothed pussy, but all he got was the pixelation. “Do you like them?” Natalie said, laughing. She wiggled her legs, grinding back into the bed. God, Bruce wished he was worthy enough to see her. But the fact that he wasn’t fueled him, and he sent more money to Natalie and jerked himself off as she mocked him. He came to her touching herself through her panties, her small hand just a blur against the pixelated fabric. He deserved this. Denial. Humiliation. Censored porn. Majesty Natalie was making him see the truth of his so-called manhood. She was teaching him about his own sexuality. She knew more about him than he knew about himself. He could see that she was, as always, right about everything. He bought and loaded up the next Goonblocker clip… Chapter 6 Bruce had been watching Natalie’s videos for days. She had recently started dropping content in the mornings instead of the evenings, and it was positively killing Bruce to have to wait until his work day was up so he could come home and watch her videos. He felt like a failure. He couldn’t focus at work, even less so than normal, and he couldn’t even prioritize Natalie the way he knew she deserved to be worshiped. All the subliminal teachings she’d given him over the time he’d spent watching her videos told him he should be doing more to support his porn princess. And yet, if he quit his job he wouldn’t be able to pay for her content. He wanted, more than anything, to have a work from home job that would allow him to have work on one monitor and Majesty Natalie on the other, but he didn’t have the skillset. He’d tried to watch Natalie’s videos on his lunch break, but they were just a bit too long, and he’d have to make excuses to stay on his break longer. He was still watching the pixelated Goonblocker clips, knowing that he wasn’t worthy of watching uncensored videos of her. He didn’t deserve to see her skin, her tiny body, her pretty clothes. He should be grateful he’s even allowed to listen to her bratty voice. And he was. He was so grateful. He took his break a few minutes early, trying his best to not draw attention to the fact that he was slipping out before it was time. He sneakily locked himself in his car and played Natalie’s new YouTube video. It was a Goonblocker clip, but she uploaded it free to her channel. “Good morning gooner,” Majesty Natalie said, sounding cute and bored. She was wearing a white crop top and pink yoga pants, and her tits were centered, so Bruce couldn’t tell if she was wearing a bra under it or not. If he knew Natalie, probably not. His gooner cock ached at the thought. “I went on a shopping spree with some of the money I’ve been sent lately—which means I want more, in case you’re too stupid to get the hint—and I wanted to show you my haul.” Natalie began pulling clothes from bags, holding them up, making Bruce imagine them on her body—shiny skimpy bikinis and crop top sweaters, tight athletic wear and grey sweatpants. She had bought three different pairs of bleach white sneakers, size five, and some gold jewelry. Everything was designer, one tiny bikini top probably more expensive than everything Bruce owned put together. He had helped fund that. He felt a confusing rush of pride, purpose and shame. Pride that he had been able to fund Natalie’s shopping spree, shame that he had been draining his and his wife’s money for months to be able to do so. But Natalie needed him to be a good cum slut and give her his money. Every time he spent money on her it only made him more ashamed, and even more horny. “Not only did I go shopping, I had slaves binge my wishlist. One of you bought a sexy toy.” Natalie said, pulling out a new bag in front of her. “I’ve already tried it out.” Bruce felt his palms grow sweaty. He had paid extra to buy a toy for her, specifically from him. He had picked it out on her website, wrote a note along with it, and signed it with his real name. Would she acknowledge him in this video? He didn’t know if he was worthy of it, and yet he still ached for her bratty voice to say his name. She held up the first item, sent to her from someone else, but it was pixelated. He had almost forgotten this was a Goonblocker clip. “First, someone got me this fox tail butt plug. It’s silicone, soft, and small. It was fine. I looked adorable in it. But like. You literally only exist to spend money on me and you bought the cheapest thing possible? God, that’s annoying. I expect you to make up for it. As punishment, the bitch who bought this butt plug has to wear a butt plug into the office today. I know who you are. You know who you are.” She smirked, knowing her submissive would obey her every command, no matter how humiliating. Bruce was glad he hadn’t bought the fox tail butt plug, even though he’d considered it. It would have been the smart thing to do financially, but Majesty Natalie deserved more. “Okay, next I have something really special from someone really special.” Natalie turned and looked at the camera, rolling her eyes. “Just kidding, I have a new bikini from someone who sent me their credit card info.” She held it up, but the blur made it appear to be only a shiny, maybe PVC blob. “I only care about your money.” Bruce knew it was only a YouTube video, yet he still felt the insult. It twisted his gut and made his cock throb. And it was throbbing. Bruce’s phone chimed. His boss, wondering where he was. He shot her back a message saying he was on his way and stuck his headphones in, listening to Natalie’s voice and glancing at the screen as he made his way back. “By the way,” Natalie was saying, “If your cock is any smaller than this I feel bad for you. Or, I would feel bad about you, if I cared about you at all. My next wishlist gift was bought to me by a gooner so stupid he probably thought he was special for sending me a little pathetic love note with it. Well, Bruce, here’s my reply: Dear human wallet, I do not care about you, send me more money, XOXO, Majesty Natalie.” Bruce had ducked into the bathroom, heart pounding, and made his way over to a toilet seat. He was transfixed, stuck to his screen like Natalie was running a hypnosis video. But she wasn’t, it was just the sound of her voice, saying his name. He couldn’t stop himself, pulling his cock out and stroking himself, as hard and fast as he could. “This horny little gooner bought me a pair of high heels! Look, they’re red bottoms!” The shoes themselves were pixelated, but Bruce could hear them clacking together as she teased him. “Too bad I don’t like high heels. I’m a sneaker girl. I’m going to throw them away.” She did just that, right into the trash, and then she turned back to the camera. “Are you touching yourself gooner? Are you thinking about all the money you’ve spent on me, all the money you’re going to spend to make up for your mistakes here? You need to spend more. You need to get me what I really want.” The screen started to pixelate, until Natalie was just a shape, a small, censored, feminine outline. She angled the camera to her feet which came into sharp focus. She wore bright white sneakers which she knocked together playfully. Bruce jerked off to her voice and those shoes, nodding along as she insulted him, already planning to tribute more of his money as soon as his hands were free. He rose to his feet and came hard into the toilet, letting out a long, heavy moan in the shape of Natalie’s name. “Bruce?” Bruce hadn’t heard the door open—he must have forgotten to lock it—but he heard it swing shut. He glanced over the top of the stall and saw his boss, Sarah, looking hesitant. “What are you doing? You were supposed to be back at your desk ten minutes ago.” “Sorry, I um, I had to use the bathroom.” “The women’s bathroom? Bruce, something isn’t right here. I’m going to have to ask you to stay after today and meet with me, okay?” “Okay, fine,” Bruce said, tucking his cock back into his pants. By the time he left the stall his boss was gone and he was alone again. He played the rest of Natalie’s video, even though he didn’t want to. He’d never felt so embarrassed. He bought Natalie another pair of shoes, this time a pair of pink Nikes, but it hardly made him feel better. His post nut clarity was hitting. He was in trouble with his boss. And his personal life was in shambles. Natalie was going to ruin him. Chapter 7 Bruce’s wife wasn’t home when he got back from work on Friday night, but she had left the mail on the table for him to see, envelope after envelope addressed to him, most of them with “FINAL WARNING” in dark red ink stamped across the front. His wife had left a note across the top: “Deal with this.” He grabbed them all and brought them back to his computer room, tossing them in front of his monitor. It was humiliating how bad his problem had gotten. He was in so much debt he was sure he’d never recover. He’d taken out credit cards, opened accounts in sketchier and sketchier places to take out loans. There was a lien on his house, and the repo guys would be coming for his car any day now. He had dragged his wife back in with him, too. When they’d remarried he’d convinced her to give him access to her accounts, and he’d been slowly draining them. And for what? Why? Because Natalie said so, and Bruce was completely under her control. He had to spend money on her, even when he had no money, because Natalie told him he should. He knew it was stupid. He knew it made him pathetic. He was completely and utterly shamed by it. But that only turned him on. Natalie had, slowly but surely, convinced him that it was his life’s purpose to give away all his money to her. If he was being fully and completely honest with himself, the only reason he cared whether he went bankrupt or not was because if he ended up homeless on the streets he wouldn’t be able to afford Majesty Natalie clips. He pushed the mail aside. He would deal with them, he would. But first he needed to watch one of Natalie’s videos. It would help him to relax, get him in the right mindset to deal with his financial issues. He pulled his cock out, soft and small. He used to think he had a good cock, above average size, but Natalie had shown him the truth, that it was small and ugly. She was so much smarter than him. As soon as he pulled up her video his cock stiffened, coming to life in his hand. It was an older video, one he had watched a few times before. “Hello paypig.” Natalie said. She was wearing skimpy clothes, the top just barely wide enough to cover her nipples, the bottom a pink thong that only excited Bruce more. Her face was pixelated. “I decided betas like you don’t deserve to look at me today,” she said, running a hand down her toned stomach. “Losers like you don’t deserve rights. Isn’t that right, paypig?” “Yes, Natalie,” Bruce whispered, nodding. “I have to tell you a story today,” Natalie said, hopping up onto her bed. She piled pillows and blankets below her, straddling the soft pile, her thin, tan legs on either side of the stack. “Once upon a time,” she said, starting to grind into the pillow that rested against her bikini-clad pussy. “There was someone who watched my content. He used to call me every day. He’d send me money multiple times a day. He bought me all the clothes that I wanted, every outfit I asked for.” Natalie’s voice was patronizing and bratty. She abruptly stopped her gyrations, and flashed a loser symbol at the camera. “What was so special about him? Well, nothing, he was a stupid gooner just like any of you. But he did something very very special for me, that your Goddess has never forgotten. Do you want to know what it was, dummy?” Bruce nodded, even though he knew already. “He spent every last penny on me. He went bankrupt. Anytime he’d get even a dollar back, he’d spend it on me. It’s sexy to spend money on me,” Natalie said, and Bruce nodded. “It’s so hot to go broke for your Goddess.” Bruce stroked himself at the same speed that Natalie moved her hand. She was making jerk off motions and he did his best to match her pace. “Go, spend more money on me right now.” Bruce pulled up Natalie’s page on his other monitor, sending her a gift of 100$. It was declined. He put in another card. Declined. He started to sweat, stressing. He needed to spend money on Natalie, but there was no more money. Finally, he found a card that worked, it was in overdraft, but he’d worry about the fee later. He pulled up all his accounts on the monitor, watching Natalie out of the corner of his eye, listening to her instruct him to send her even more money. He sent her another 20. His accounts, each in red, each with flashing notification, warning him of his debt, glares at him on one screen. Good. Natalie thinks debt is sexy. He did this for her. He looks at the stack of mail in front of him, glances back to the monitors. Natalie is fake moaning, mocking him and picking up her stroking pace. Bruce grabs the stack of mail, crumbling it in his free hand. His other jerks himself off, hard and fast, until he’s cumming, pressing the crumpled mail to his tip, cumming into the stack of it as his monitor glares at him and Majesty Natalie lets out a giggle. He cums so hard he feels a little light-headed, and he’s out of it enough that he doesn’t hear his wife until it’s nearly too late and she’s knocking on his door. He shoves the mail in the trash, closes both monitors, shoves his soft, drained cock in his pants and tells her she can come in. That was close. Chapter 8 Bruce didn’t have the money to call Natalie’s phone line the other day, which ruined his entire week. But he’d been paid and finally had enough money to give her a call. He’d even have some money left after the fact that he could spend on his wife, perhaps. He’d been feeling guilty since she nearly caught him jerking off to Natalie once again. He’d lied to her and told her he’d talked to his creditors, that it was all a big misunderstanding, and she seemed to trust him. She’d snuggled into his arms that night for the first time in a week, and he’d built up his resolve to quit spending money on Natalie. He couldn’t quit her, he knew this now, he was her gooner forever. But maybe he could keep his spending in check, balance being Natalie’s paypig and being a real human being with a job and wife and life. “Bruce,” Natalie said when he joined the call. Hearing her bratty voice say his name was enough to make his cock throb. “You didn’t call last week.” “I didn’t have the money—” Bruce started, but Natalie cut him off. “Um, I don’t care. Spending money on me is what you exist to do, right? I thought you liked spending money on me.” “I do,” Bruce said, but she wasn’t listening to him. “Send me $100, I have something for you.” “For me?” Bruce asked. Natalie had something for him, specifically? His palms started to sweat, his heart pounded. She thought about him? He wasn’t worthy. “I’m not worthy—” He began, but she cut him off. “Just send me the money,” she snapped. “Sent, Princess,” he said once he was done. Her bratty voice made him excited. “Check your email. Oh, and if you’re not wearing headphones already, put some on.” Bruce’s inbox chimed with an email from Natalie. It was a link. He clicked it and the next thing he knew audio was playing, Natalie’s voice was layered over binaural beats, light music that seemed to flitter through Bruce’s head, lodging right in his brain. Her voice did what it always did to him, turned him on, but the music made him feel lightheaded and sleepy. He wanted to stroke his cock. He rested his head on the desk, playing with himself sleepily as Natalie spoke. He could barely concentrate, but it seemed his brain was understanding her messages without him. He felt like a horny zombie. “Gooner,” Natalie sneered. “Money, now.” A minute later, “Good paypig.” Bruce felt himself sending her another $100. A small puddle of his drool gradually collected, wetting the side of his face. He couldn’t move to wipe it away, he needed one hand on his cock, the other on his mouse to give Natalie more of his money. The audio kept going, her words familiar. It was looping, he thought, somewhere in his dreamy brain. “Gooner. Money, now.” He clicked away, another 100 gone. “Good paypig.” He was a good paypig. He was Natalie’s good pay pig. Over and over again the hypnosis audio looped, and Bruce gave her money each time while he played with his cock. He couldn’t seem to get off, he was too drowsy, but he could click his small salary away. Between her demands for money Natalie insulted him, calling him stupid, worthless, pathetic. He agreed. He nodded in a puddle of his own drool, his cock, which belonged to Natalie, aching but unable to get off. “Stupid simp,” Natalie said, and then the audio looped again. “Gooner. Money, now.” “Good paypig,” she said. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bruce knew that he was nearing the last of his money. As the loop repeated, he hit send again but got an error message. That was it. His money was gone. He wouldn’t be taking his wife out this week, though he’d already promised her he would. He wouldn’t be paying off any debts. He didn’t even know how he’d pay for new clips next week. The shame and defeat built inside him, just as Natalie reminded him that he was a “good paypig,” and he came hard. It took him a minute to come back to his senses, and when he did he checked the time. He had spent an hour in her hypnotic loop, missing out on her live call, but Natalie would still hopefully be online. He hopped back onto the call. “Natalie,” he said. He was still feeling lightheaded. It took him a moment to place the emotions that were overwhelming him. Shock, fear, awe, all mixing together. “God, why are you interrupting me?” Natalie asked, annoyed. “Why would you possibly think I care what you have to share.” “I’m sorry, Goddess,” Bruce said, hanging his head in shame. “It’s just. I’ve just spent my last $100 on you. I was supposed to take my wife out with that money.” Natalie laughed. Bruce thought he was about to accuse her of hypnotizing him, maybe even beg her for some of his money back, he couldn’t. Her laugh, bratty and superior, took away all his doubts. Of course he gave her all his money. She deserved it. “Am I a good paypig?” Bruce asked, but Natalie only giggled harder. Chapter 9 Bruce felt so guilty about spending all his money on Natalie and canceling dinner plans with his wife that he decided to make her dinner at home, instead. He didn’t tell her the plan, letting himself be overwhelmed by her disappointment when he told her they wouldn’t be going out that week. He had expected her to get angry, or maybe sad, but her response was so much worse. “Okay,” she’d said, sighing. She didn’t look upset, just disappointed. “I’ll make up for it,” he had said, desperate for her to believe him. “No, you won’t,” she had replied, and pulled out her phone, ignoring him. He wanted his home cooked meal to be a surprise, so he left work early, arriving at his house before his wife. He started to cook, ignoring the urge he felt to watch one of Natalie’s videos. He wasn’t going to do it. Tonight was about his wife, not Natalie. His phone chimed to let him know that Natalie had posted to her fanclub, but he swiped away the notification without opening the app. It would be there later. So will my wife, a voice in the back of his head said, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He had already lost her once. He wasn’t going to let himself lose her again. “Bruce,” she said, surprise evident in her voice as she walked through the door and smelt dinner cooking. “What’s this?” “Surprise!” Bruce said, giving his wife a quick peck before heading back to the food on the stove. “I told you I’d make it up to you for not going out tonight, didn’t I?” “I guess you did, yeah,” she was smiling, and Bruce’s heart ached as he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his wife smile at him. He poured her a glass of wine and instructed her to go dress up. She laughed as she raced upstairs to peel out of her work clothes and put on an evening dress. Bruce finished preparing the meal, and then he, too, put on nicer clothes, seating himself across the table from his wife. He lit a candle. “Bruce, this is so romantic,” she said, honestly sounding impressed. “Let’s hope it’s also delicious,” he replied, and she laughed. They shared a perfect evening together, and Bruce was convinced he’d reminded his wife that she loved him. They laughed, they talked, and they didn’t argue once. His food was good, the wine was better, and they fell into bed together. She kneeled on the bed, slowly slipping the straps of her dress off her shoulders, revealing her breasts. She slid the dress off her body, fabric pilling at her knees. She wore lingerie, a pair Bruce had bought her. He kissed his wife, tracing his hands over her body as she helped him out of her clothes, but his stomach had started to churn. He didn’t find her attractive. Her body was so much different than Natalie’s petite, tan frame. She looked nothing like his Natalie. She kept kissing him, her hand running along the outside of his underwear. She grasped his soft cock, stroking it, trying to work life into him. It wouldn’t work. Bruce knew it was never going to work. He belonged to porn now, Natalie had ruined him for anyone else, even his wife. “Bruce,” his wife said, “please fuck me.” “I can’t,” he said, desperate for her to understand. The happiness in her eyes had faded, the angry lines of disappointment reappearing on her face. She looked dissatisfied and frustrated. “You can’t?” she repeated. He shook his head. “That’s fucking pathetic, Bruce.” She said, “You can barely pay attention to me normally, and the one time you seem to remember I exist you still can’t manage to get it up for me. You’re worthless to me. You don’t provide, you’re going to lose your job. You’re nearly bankrupt, if you aren’t already. You think I don’t know but I do. God, I should have stayed away from you. I should fuck someone else. It would probably be better than you ever used to be. I guarantee you I could find someone more attractive, with a bigger dick, and more money, who’s better in bed than you were tonight, if I wanted to.” She shook her head, the fire draining from her. “Let’s just go to bed, then.” Bruce waited until he thought she was asleep, and then he finally, desperately, pulled up one of Natalie’s videos. He needed it. He felt like he might die without it. His cock stiffened before he even pulled it up. He was so pathetic. He could only get hard for Natalie, spending money on her, being denied by her, even being ignored by her. Why was Natalie’s inattention so much hotter to him than his wife’s attention? He didn’t know. He stroked himself to a new video, an ignore fetish clip where Natalie has set her camera up to face the corner of her room. He knows she’s there, just off frame, staying out of his sight because he’s not good enough for her. He cums fast, letting out a quiet groan before switching off his phone and setting it on the bedside table. “You’re really weird, and disgusting,” his wife whispered. “I saw that. I don’t know how I ever could have loved you. You’re just sad. Really fucking sad. Do you have a wall fetish now? What is wrong with you? Sad.” Chapter 10 Bruce’s wife sat him down and laid it all out in black and white. Quit watching weird fetish porn or she would leave. It was a harder choice than he wanted to admit. He was so addicted to being Natalie’s human wallet that he struggled to remember his identity outside of lining her pockets and, occasionally, making her laugh at his patheticness. It was embarrassing, but he knew his place in the world, and it was somewhere just below Natalie’s size five feet. But he remembered what it felt like to be more than just someone’s submissive, more than just a slave to a porn princess. He remembered loving his wife, feeling satisfied at his job. Majesty Natalie had hypnotized him well, but somewhere deep down he still craved more. So he agreed. He gave his wife his passcodes, sat with her as she went through everything, his bank statements, his credit card debts, and, most embarrassingly, Natalie’s fan pages, her emails, the hundreds of files of her videos. His wife saw, and deleted them all. It worked, too. Bruce felt weird being away from Natalie so long, almost itchy from the feeling of being without her content. But he felt so much better in so many other ways. He still couldn’t get hard without thinking of Natalie, but he felt confident that he’d get there in time. He even got a therapist, and told her about his problems. Everything was going well, and Bruce thought that he might just get his life together again after all, in the final hour. And then he got a message from an unfamiliar number on his new phone (his therapist had recommended a new phone, a clean slate, in case Bruce had backed up any files to his old one. His wife had happily paid for the new one). Hi Bruce. Call me. XOXO — Majesty Natalie. He blocked the number, his heart racing. A few minutes later, his phone rang. A new number. He hung up, sending it to voicemail. He told himself to delete the voicemail without listening to it, but he had to know. “Heyyyy Bruce,” Natalie said, her voice bratty and amused. Bruce’s cock instantly stiffened. “I’ve noticed you’ve been gone lately. Okay that’s not really true, I don’t care enough about you to know if you’re around or not. But I noticed my good little paypig hasn’t been paying my bills lately.” Bruce’s cock twitched at her words, his fingers itching to pull up her website and send her money right away. It was like her words had unlocked something in his brain. “You don’t have to keep buying my clips,” Natalie said, sounding pouty. “But if you don’t, I’m going to release this video of you.” A laugh. “Anyway, send me $100 to let me know you got this message, and I’ll see you in the DMs of my fanclub this week! Bye!” The video had come through as Bruce was listening to the voicemail. He clicked on it with dread. There he was, on his knees, bringing his trembling hand to his mouth, licking his own cum off his fingers. Not knowing how fast Natalie planned to move, Bruce went to her website right away. It was blocked. Dammit. Of course it was blocked. He broke out in a sweat. He practically tore the house apart looking for anything he could get online with. He found his wife’s old computer, waited impatiently for it to charge enough to turn on and went straight to Majesty Natalie’s site. In the time it took before he could send her the money, he got another text. Tick, tock, Bruce. It’s for your own good. You know you’re nothing but a brainless paypig. “Yes,” Bruce whispered. “I’m your brainless paypig, Princess.” The computer was painfully slow, it was the reason his wife didn’t use it anymore, and Bruce drummed his fingers against it anxiously. “Come on, come on, come on,” he mumbled. Should I send it to your wife first? I can’t wait for you to come back to me and spend every penny you earn on me. Finally, Bruce gets logged on and puts his payment through. The texts stop, and he thinks he’s over the worst of it. He can send Natalie a few hundred dollars every now and then, call her phone line, he could manage that much without getting sucked back in. He could still walk this tightrope. His wife came home twenty minutes later with divorce papers. “I get a notification,” she said, showing him her phone, “when you go on blocked websites. We’re done.” Bruce’s heart sank, but he didn’t fight it. He couldn’t explain to her why he’d done it, and part of him didn’t want to. With her gone, he could be Natalie’s again. Epilogue: Three months later Bruce’s phone chimed. A message from his ex-wife. She had sent him a picture of herself and a man he recognized as his high school bully. “He has a bigger dick than you” the message read. “And he knows how to use it, too” The guy who had traumatized him in school was now fucking his wife. Ex-wife. It didn’t matter. Well, it did. It hurt and humiliated him, but he can’t care because he had Natalie now, whenever he can afford her. He lost his job shortly after his wife left him, since his boss caught him jerking off at his desk to a picture of Natalie’s shoes. He started working at a fast food restaurant so he could afford to send Natalie at least a little money. His wife got the house, so Bruce was staying at the homeless shelter. Rent was so much, and he needed that money for Natalie. He was completely humiliated and, finally, where he was supposed to be. He was her gooner, through and through. Pretending to be anything but her cash cow was avoiding the truth. He willingly, desperately, needed to be Natalie’s bankrupt paypig for life.

32: Normal Girl Falls Into Magical Traps “Celine, I would like to remind you that I need assistance with the inventory in the attic,” said Chloe, tapping on a clipboard with blank lists. She was wearing athletic shoes and comfortable black leggings, as well as a white spandex shirt with the C&T logo on it. Her boss gave her a sideways glance as she was busy analyzing data and needed to concentrate. ...

1 - The great con Kanne and I had become friends through Reddit after we commented on a cosplay post. I had more-or-less-randomly-by-accident clicked on her profile and saw she’s into cosplay and stuff. I like the costumes she makes so I sent her a message to tell her that and she replied a few weeks later. We exchanged a few messages and soon we were talking on iMessage and we quickly discovered that we really like each other as friends. ...

Part 4 “You have a…list,” I asked incredulously as I took another bite of what was supposed to pass for scrambled eggs. “Yep, first thing I’m going to do is get Lacie somewhere safe, then I’m going to find my way back home and get the inheritance I am owed from my uncle and then… then I’m going to find that bastard Lenix and burn his estate to the ground, preferably with him still in it,” Bunny murmured, her voice filled with a fiery determination as she stared daggers at the food tray on her lap. ...

Ch.9 Suited Up: a Feline Feminist FreakPet Lisa woke up with Abby snuggled up beside her, when Carol entered the room early the next morning. “I see someone took my advice and got some action in before those g-balls wore off,” teased Carol, and Lisa felt her face flush. She smiled sheepishly, half embarrassed and half proud to have had what amounted to fully orgasmic oral sex with Abby the night before. She’d had to take a lot of ribbing about her resistance to submission, and Abby had made her ‘meow’ and call herself a catgirl, but she’d gotten laid in the end. ...

Part 2 It had been two weeks since I had been beaten by Kasia at chess. Last week I’d faced off against Hanna and beaten her handily. The rules of the games night are that each girl gets to choose a game for the month and then has to play the first game of the night against the others. The loser of that first match up will be tied up for the rest of the evening. ...

Jennifer finds herself lost in life. Unable to get over her ex-boyfriend Colin, she makes poor decisions and puts herself in bad situations. Until she meets her match on Tinder. A silly side-story expanding on Jennifer, mentioned in The Happiness of Ella Bloom. 1 - Lost in a spa resort I have been hiking all morning. Actually, I’ve only been going for an hour or two. But I’m already tired. My backpack is heavy, my feet hurt and I feel filthy. ...

Episode 5: Kink’s Kinky Kingdom ‘Miss Schwarz.’ Isabel struggled to lift her head. Her neck was stiff and her body ached. With an equal effort, she forced her eyes open, struggling to focus on the source of the voice she knew belonged to Kink. ‘You have to let us go.’ Her voice sounded weak, as weak as her body. She was once more hanging by her arms, her limbs spread in one of the restraint rings, her hands and feet locked in the steel cylinders. She was dimly aware she was naked but realised she no longer cared. ...

Part 3 *CLANG* “Mmm…mmmph mmm uh!” My eyes snapped open as the sounds just outside my box woke me from my uncomfortable slumber. I’m not sure how long we’d been in the truck before I fell asleep, but every bump in the road had become a symphony of torment as the cardboard pressed into my skin, each jostle sending waves of discomfort through my bound body during our journey. Eventually, somehow, someway I’d managed to drift off into a fitful sleep, my body begging for a reprieve from the constant barrage of sensations. The steady rhythm of the truck’s engine had become a lullaby, and the coldness of the cardboard a strange sort of comfort. But now, as the truck stood still, silent save for the jostling going on mere feet away, I came to and tried my best to maneuver myself into a position to get a look through one of the small air holes that pierced the cardboard. ...

The Ad Laura was nothing if not determined. Having grown up in a big household of six sisters, she’d learnt from a young age to look after herself. After graduation she’d saved up what she could and moved to New York to study law. And while all her sisters were now either pregnant or married (or both), things like relationships, boyfriends, hell, even friendships were a distraction as far as Laura was concerned. An avid gamer, Laura had learnt to programme from a young age and used her programming skills to support herself while studying. She was determined not to have to rely on her parents, who would inevitably just try and have a say in her life. ...

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. ...

Ch.8 Unorthodox Orgasms Samantha’s work was steady for the next few hours, and as the dinner rush hit she found herself in a state of flow, still chasing the relief of an orgasm, but in a zen state of awareness that her focus needed to remain on her current task. The only way forward was charming, winsome obedience, and she found herself actually enjoying the positive attention she got from some of the men. In her normal life, men were never this direct, and neither was she, everyone was too guarded and polite. But she felt a strange sense of validation in the constant displays of femininity and sexuality she used to endear herself to her tables. ...

First a little about me, I had always enjoyed the risk of self bondage and the only thing better was being tied up by someone else. Over the years the fantasies had turned into realities as I found other people that were willing to tie me up; these always had limited and downsides as they never wanted to go as far as me; even when I got married the wife had always been willing to let me play out my kinky side but it had always had limits and lines that should not be crossed. ...

Ch.7 The Hot-Cold Game Samantha woke to the clattering and suction noise of the pneumatic tube. With a ding, a new container arrived and the door opened automatically to reveal four fresh skinsuits, collars, padlocks, leashes, four white dresses, and four white gel-balls with white permaseals to match. The standard HaremCo uniform, she thought. The other slavegirls rose shakily out of bed, rubbing their eyes, and Jessica groaned into the mouthplug beneath her glued lips. She was still chained to the bed and encased in vacuum-sealed black latex. Abby woke quickly and darted to her own bed. That was smart, they might not want women sleeping together. ...

Episode 4: To be or not to be… ‘Where are we?’ asked Tiffany. Isabell looked around for a moment choosing to ignore the fact that her friend was dressed in what looked like a green satin basque, frilly black knickers, fishnet stockings, shiny patent leather ankle boots and had a black feather boa around her neck. They were in a room or at least part of a room with a long high curtain along one side; there was a painted scene on the wall opposite that depicted nymphs and dryads and probably a few human maids too cavorting with centaurs and satyrs; most of the woman were naked and most in bondage of some description; some of the female centaurs were bound too and at least one pair bridled and harnessed and being used as mounts by a pair of satyrs. At either end of the room were openings separated by tall panels past which Isabel could see a number of large wooden blocks and ropes running up into the darkness above. ...

Ch.6 First Day of Training pt.2: Rented Out “And how shall we prepare these lovely women for you, Mr. Anderson?” called out Dominic, his voice loud and clear, like the voice of an announcer at a sporting event. He had the crowd enthralled. “You don’t happen to have those dollsuits you sell at the Dollhouse available at the club by any chance, do you?” asked Clay with a wicked grin on his face. ...

The full moon gave the empty street a somewhat eerie shade as Leah walked home. This was not a ‘nice’ neighborhood, as she well knew, but she carried herself with an athletic grace that spoke of repressed ferocity and made all but the dumbest pickpockets and muggers stay well clear of her. One of her friends had once described it by saying that Leah didn’t ‘walk’ like any other person did, she ‘stalked’ through the city, as if waiting for a reason – or excuse – to erupt into motion. Leah had to admit that it was a fairly accurate assessment, as she had – on multiple occasions – exploded into unexpected violence in response to an attempted robbery or assault. She smirked briefly at the memory of the scrubby thief’s expression on discovering that his target was much less vulnerable than previously thought. He won’t make that particular mistake again, if he’s learned anything from the experience. ...

Part 7 Chapter 32: The Thieves’ Guild Ellie wandered back towards the market square which seemed to be gearing up for another day of trading and, presumably, training new adventurers. It didn’t take her long to spot a suitable target, a typical Merchant with his purse on display. She thought briefly of Battle Babe’s instruction not to get into trouble but she also found her fingers itching to lift the purse. It was, she told herself, what she was supposed to be doing, after all and, before she knew it she was walking behind him, matching his stride. Then, as he stopped to examine the wares of a cloth stall, she brushed past him and enjoyed the thrill of XPs as she sauntered away clutching her prize. ...

Intro Ella is a 21 years young woman who lives alone in a single bedroom house in Bristol in the United Kingdom. Her body is blessed with a firm C-cup and she stands about 145cm tall with a cute round butt and a well defined waistline. Her face is rather plain but has a natural attractiveness to it. Her weight generally hovers between 45-50 kilograms. She has brown hair which almost reaches the small of her back. ...

Ch.5 First Day of Training pt.1: Signed Over As the morning light streamed through the windows of the bedroom, Samantha woke to the sound of birds chirping and the gentle hum of the city below. She was still in her metal kennel at the foot of the bed, her body aching and sore. She sat up slowly, her joints stiff and sore from being cramped up all night. She looked up to see Dominic sitting on the edge of the bed, a smug grin on his face. He looked down at her with amusement, “Good morning, pet. I hope you slept well. We’ve got a long day ahead of us, and you need your rest. You’ll need to learn your place in this world quickly, now that you’re receiving my training, and the best way for you to learn is by experience. Today we’ll go to HaremCo’s training center and start the orientation program.” ...

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. ...

Part 2 “Alright ladies good job! I look forward to seeing you all on Monday for our next session," I called out as the last of the late morning’s yoga class dispersed. I started straightening up the mats, trying not to let my mind race with the thought of tonight. The anticipation was palpable, like a second skin that tightened with every breath I took. The days since last week had been a blur, I found myself obsessed with reliving the intense encounter with the deliveryman. I replayed the video over and over again, watching as the ropes coiled around my body, the way my skin turned red and my eyes watered from the painful pleasure of each tightening knot. The sight of him using my body for his own desires sent a thrill through me that I hadn’t felt in a very long time. The sounds of my own muffled moans and whimpers filled my ears as I watched, my hand unconsciously drifting down to caress my clit, feeling the same desperate need for release that had gripped me that night. ...

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 6: Home, but not Free The bus ride home after Melissa’s ordeal at Nicole’s was, if possible, even more gruelling than the trip there. Stripped of the air-conditioned comfort of the main passenger compartment, she was relegated to the rear of the bus, a stifling cargo area typically used for transporting goods and, ironically, actual maidbots. The air, thick and still, offered no respite from the day’s accumulated stress, and the constant vibration of the engine rattled through her bones, a harsh reminder of her ongoing predicament. ...

31: The Latex League Needs No Badges Rilliana Rilliana gritted her teeth as she listened to the lies being fed to the court and the jury. She looked at Summer and Ava sitting next to her. Ava had her hands clenched into fists and was staring at Sarah with dark, glittering eyes, while Summer’s shoulders shook. Phoebe could only shake her head and Rilliana couldn’t blame her. “So as you can see, everything was arranged with Mrs. von Nachtschwing, Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Wynters and my game show did not violate any laws or the contracts negotiated with the three women,” Sarah said, a cheeky smile appearing on her face. ...

Episode 3: The Consequences of Failure Isabel was pressed down on her knees; barely able to move. The pressure on her body almost made it hard to breathe and her muscles felt cramped and stiff. She knew she was dreaming; that inability to move, that sense of dread. It felt like she was in a tiny cage, the bars squeezing in on all sides and in front and behind her, her arms held securely behind her back. It had to be a dream, her mind playing tricks on her for failing to escape from the underwater base scenario. It was going to be humiliating; the great Isabel Schwarz, defeated by an escape room scenario. Except that the scenario couldn’t have been real, there was no way the scenario could have progressed as it did after they escaped the submarine wearing those suits… Though, in truth she’d rather enjoyed it; in the dream, things had turned decidedly kinky with bondage suits, Priya disclosing her bondage fantasy, Tiffany turning all submissive and calling her mistress. Then Charlotte had kissed her. If only that had been real. ...

Ch.3 The Shop, the Dungeon, and the Dollhouse “Thank you, Mistress Lisa,” said Samantha with a blush and a hint of embarrassment. Something about being back in her own clothes, with her hair and makeup flawlessly reapplied by Carol, made her instinctively start putting on appearances again. A sense of guilt came back to her, as she came back to herself. Guilt at having been so out of control, so sexually desperate, and so subservient…in what could be called public, no less. ...

Part One *Bleep! Bleep! Bleep* My eyes snapped open to the obnoxious sound of my phone’s alarm, a pop song that seemed to echo through the room like a taunt. “Shit, shit, shit, how could I have overslept?” I grumbled to myself, throwing off the covers and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The room was already bathed in the soft glow of the early morning sun, the curtains doing a poor job of keeping the light at bay. ...

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. ...

30: The Sarah Games Jenkins estate, outside Leon City Sarah opened the sarcophagus and it hissed softly as oxygen flowed into it from under the lid. Immediately she could hear her two guests take a deep breath and start coughing. “Welcome home,” Sarah whispered in amusement and threw the lid aside, which fell to the floor with a loud bang. Ava and Summer, who were still squashed in the sarcophagus, winced in shock. Ava in particular groaned loudly as the bruises from the abduction began to hurt. ...

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. ...

“So,” Miranda said, twirling her wine glass, “how do you feel about trying something… different?” Liam eyed her somewhat suspiciously. Their typical evening was quiet and uneventful, just how he liked it. “I’m not really sure what you’re leading up to, babe. Are you not happy with this?” he gestured to their shared home. “It’s not that, it’s just that I occasionally want something more than the same routine every week.” When we first got together, you were spontaneous and fun. “Work and gym and sportsball and screens at night, maybe fifteen minutes of missionary once a week…” Ok, maybe it’s twenty minutes. ...

11: Her last boyfriend Intro Ariana Inoue is a 22 years young Japanese woman. She has black hair and at the moment likes it long, she has been growing her hair out for the last 3 years or so. She rarely puts on makeup other than some eye liner. The fine lines in her face, along with her big dark eyes, give her a very cute look. Combine that with her slender body and she is the envy of men and women alike. A small B-cup adorns her chest and she stands about 140cm tall with a cute butt. Ariana lives alone in a single bedroom apartment. ...

“…So this building was built in 1887. Originally, it was a sanatorium, although ‘sanatorium’ might be a little euphemistic; it was, in fact, an institution where affluent families sent family members suffering from ‘psychoses’ to ‘recuperate’ outside of the public eye. The intentions were laudable – comparatively – but in terms of modern standards the level of care provided was… well, a tad barbaric perhaps. Not long after the turn of the century, the sanatorium went bankrupt and the building was abandoned… ...

Preparations [Sunday. Before dawn] Sam stood in the elevator’s corner, covering her chest with the free hand, more for warmth and comfort than to hide from him. She was cold, but still sweating, feeling like a bobblehead figure – head both heavy and floating loose; she had to lean it against the wall to prevent dizziness from overwhelming her. He turned sideways, weapon ready, watching Sam and the entrance. “Drink!” a sharp command set her straight. ...

Allannia Azurewrath, seventh tier mage of the ancient elven house Glade Royal, considered the crude arcane sigils etched upon the doorway in front of her. It was a hash of low goblin and bits of archaic dwarvish runes, presumably stolen from wherever the goblins could get their hands on it. Naturally, as an elvish mage with decades of training, she could read both languages fluently, though she never deigned to speak or write either. This particular jumble had elements of protection, support, sturdiness, and alignment from the dwarvish elements, although none of these were complete. She knew Dwarvish runes were frequently centered around construction, longevity, and strength. The goblin components carried notes of anger, malice, retribution, and pain. This was also not unusual from her experience. Goblins didn’t build anything so much as destroy or repurpose, but this was their nature, and so Allannia felt no disdain for it. Still, the runes, as makeshift as they were, were presenting an effective obstacle to her progress. ...

I thought my roommate was out for the night, she had assured me that she would not be home until tomorrow. I had double checked, highly valuing some personal kinky time after a stressful week. The front door opening told me a different story. I heard Laura’s voice as well as her friend Lexi. I knew I should be fine, as long as I stayed quiet (not hard with the stuff gag) and my door remained shut. Spread eagle on my bed, cuffed to the four posts, I can’t do much but lay quietly and hope they leave. My key release probably had at least another hour before the ice melted. ...

I’m a fairly normal woman, early 20s, and a fitness freak. I spend far too much time in the gym but I do have a perfect figure as a result. I’m a daydreamer, and sometimes I set the goals on the gym machines and then my mind wanders off while I run or cycle or crosstrain. This particular day, I was daydreaming. I was staring ahead at another machine where a similarly perfect-figured young woman was working out. My eyes worked down from her red hair, the sweat beading round her neck line, her sweat-soaked t-shirt, down to her sweat-soaked lower back, and eventually down to her perfect round ass where again, sweat had pooled around the top of her arse leaving a line on her tight fitting lycra pants. Below that was the seat of the exercise bike and my mind simply wandered, wondering what her steamy hot ass would be like under there, how sweaty it would be, what it might smell like under there. ...

Chapter 1: A Wrong Turn Tommy let out a long sign. “Of course it’s starting to rain,” he thought. He wouldn’t normally be walking home from work, but his car was in the shop and his work wasn’t far from home. At least it wasn’t far when driving. Walking, however, was a completely different matter. It had taken him just over an hour to walk to work and now he was only twenty minutes from work with rain setting in. ...

Alex, like many twenty-somethings, didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life after university. Whilst many of her classmates signed their souls away to big corporate firms or jetted off to the Global South to Instagram their rediscovery, she had neither the want for the former nor the money for the latter. So, she watched as her friends moved on while she demurred over what to do. Rather than face the humiliating prospect of moving back in with her parents, she decided to stick it out in London. But that meant finding a job. Loath to find yet another gastronomy gig with shitty wages, she scoured the job sites until she came across an ad for a sales assistant at a boutique sex shop. She was surprised at the candour of the shop – most of the time these places described themselves as “fashion stores” or something more discreet. But that wasn’t all. This place stated proudly that it was a women’s only sex shop: strictly no men allowed. The more Alex read about this place, the more she was interested. The pay was good. She wouldn’t have to deal with sleazy college guys leering at her. And she would be empowering women to embrace their sexuality (which was what a Gender Studies graduate should do, shouldn’t they?). After little deliberation, she sent in an application, and the next week she was invited for an interview. ...

Part 3 Chapter 11: Bragging Rights The tavern was just off the main square in HomeTown and was called the ‘Saucy Adventuress’. Above the door, the sign showed the rear view of a nicely rounded female in a short skirt, furs and armour climbing up onto the top of some sort of mountain. Ellie thought she might have seen a similar picture before and she was sure her mother had recognised it. ‘Didn’t the original still have her knickers on?’ Amanda had asked Val as they’d approach the door. ...

Max stood contemplating the poster for the local nightclub. He’d walked past it for a few weeks now, and it kept catching his eye. A very sexy girl was pictured, dressed in shiny Adidas shorts and a matching crop top, and gyrating to some techno. The advert was for a sportswear themed night every Tuesday, and Max was keen on sportswear. In fact, to be honest, it was more than that: shiny sportswear was a bit of a turn-on for him. He wasn’t sure why, but the feel and look of shiny shorts had become an obsession, a secret fetish. That’s why he had finally ground to a halt in front of the poster. He’d been trying to resist but he just had to go. He liked clubbing anyway, and here was a chance to wear shiny shorts in public, surrounded by others, with nobody any the wiser about his secret. He took one last look at the girl on the poster and resolved to go the next week. ...

New Life Part 6 By now it is getting late, and I am exhausted from my exploits. I need to get some serious sleep. I know from experience that sleeping may be difficult dressed as I am. I am still wearing my gas mask. I have a CPAP machine so for this evening I will hook up my gas mask to the machine. I stoked up the fire. Now I am ready for bed. Swaddled again in heavy blankets I eventually drift off to sleep serenaded by the cadence of the gas mask and sloshing of my fluid filled suits. I quickly fell into a sound sleep. ...

First Climax and Beyond Chapter One As the door closed, Amanda realized her change to a rubber object. She let out a blood-curdling scream that remained stillborn behind the gag. Sim Lee settled into a chair and pulled “Cell 2 Camera Feed” up on the screen. Still in her red wetsuit, she watched the black rubberized object displayed on the screen. The programming soon started. First, the ceiling chains wound back into the ceiling. The rubber object rose from the floor to be suspended about three feet above the floor. The slack in the chains attached to the object’s ankles diminished. Since the chains were anchored about five feet apart to the floor, the rubber object’s legs spread under the tension. The object shook its body and chains rattled but its movement was quite minimal as the taught chains held it securely. ...

Mary Piper had a good life. It wasn’t a great life, but it was certainly a good one. As a straight A student, she had few worries about getting the grades required to attend her university of choice. Outside of school her days were spent joyfully filling her time with the things she loved; reading, hiking, arts and crafts. It was a peaceful life, and one with which Mary was very content. ...

New Life Part 4 For some reason I was now beginning to feel a sigh of relief. Yes, I was in this rubber coffin wearing two layers of airtight rubber plus a hooded gas mask attached to a smell bag filled with sweaty personal items. However I knew this was only temporary. This was just for the cameras taping my latest Poor Willy video. Soon we would be back at the hotel and I would be extricated from all this, I could clean up, and we would be on our way to Toronto and we would be leaving the Montreal Fetish Weekend. Unfortunately it appeared that no attempt was made to get me out of all this. I heard muffled voices and things being loaded into the van but no attempt was made to unlock the latches so I could escape this tight rubber prison. Before I knew it the van was moving. I realized then that the die was cast and I am going to be stuck in this situation for at least the next five hours until we reach Toronto. Here I am sealed again in layers of rubber breathing a vile concoction of sweaty undergarment, tightly sealed in this tight rubber box forced to endure who knows what before we finally make it home to Minneapolis. I know, I know, “It makes for a good video”.. ...

“Are you brave enough to take on The Challenge? Last 30 minutes and receive $500. Vanillas need not apply.” Flyers had started popping up around campus a few weeks ago. Most people had made fun of the flyers or ignored them altogether. Except for Nina. Broke, without a job or rich parents to help her out, she was in desperate need of money. College was supposed to be Nina’s chance to break free and live her own life. But breaking free means paying for rent and groceries. And places weren’t exactly hiring freshmen with no experience. $500 would cover rent for the summer and buy her a couple of months to find a job. ...

Part 3 The facility is running smoothly, with three littles, since julia went home to her Dom. The day she left, her Mistress came to pick her up, and for an update on her PTP. Mistress Katya had a long conversation with her Mistress. *“*While I haven’t met her personally, julia’s training has progressed well over her stay, and she has been a great help to masters Wayne and Rafael. They have been a strict influence on her upbringing, but some of their more reckless attitudes towards the treatment of the other guests here have rubbed off on her. Bluebelle will be pleased to see her go. As requested, some trigger words and tastes were developed over her stay. Some of the lines from the wizard of oz, of the wicked witch, will trigger her incontinence, and stewed apples will have a similar ‘messy’ effect. If you find that she needs a refresher or needs someone to look after her for a few weeks, we can see what can be arranged.” ...

Remembrance Jacinta Hidalgo woke up to the sound of birds chirping softly outside her bedroom window. She stretched out in her comfortable bed and opened her eyes, looking forward to starting the day and refreshed after her sleep. She sat up in bed and stared around the room. The sunlight was pouring into the room, and Jacinta could already feel the heat from the sun warming up her southern-facing room. She could hear the wooden struts above her bed moan and groan as the warmth caused them to expand. Jacinta retrieved the remote from her table and flicked on the TV. She briefly listened to the news as she brushed her teeth. The news reporter was talking about how the United States had fallen into a deep recession and how businesses were going under ubiquitously. ...

New Life Part 3 We finally made it to Montreal and arrived at the hotel. We were staying at the Auberge du Vieux-Port in old Montreal. We deliberately made the most of our arrival with three lovely minxes in skin tight rubber driving up in a black hearse not to mention Dear Rubber Doll Scarlet and her escort. Every cell phone for locks was recording our arrival. Our cameras were also running full blast catching all of the reactions from the onlookers. Our checkin was just as audacious. Sandy checked us all in and we paraded through the lobby and eventually made it to our rooms. ...

Major Susannah Sachs finished buckling on her riding boots and stood to inspect herself in the mirror. Today, she would only be training cadets in the Cavalry Division of which she was an instructor, so she was wearing a green t-shirt and combat fatigues rather than her more formal uniform which was expected when she trained the officers. She pulled back her shoulders and twisted her hips around to make sure everything was in order and stepped out into the afternoon sun to see what this week’s crop of cadets looked like. ...

Part 4: Coup Carol was vacuuming the floor of one of her clients as she had been for a while since coming back to her Queen. She was wearing her traditional pink and white maid uniform. Her white stocking tops barely reached the petticoats under her skirt. Her pink ballet boots were locked on and had become a permanent part of all the maids’ uniforms. Her wrists and ankles were locked in leather cuffs with eight-inch chains in between. ...

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. ...

Homestyle Part Seven It has been six months since my infamous trip to Minneapolis to see Sandy, Candy, Sherry, and Natasha. A lot has happened in all that time. I leased the new property for the rubber dominatrix studio. Nearly all of the interior treatments are done. I have seen the work in progress and it looks like it will be a first class bondage studio. I have been there several times during the build. In addition to the area dedicated to clients, we have an actual video studio setup for rubber porno videos to feed the popular Baroness Pandora pay video site. Part of the studio is up and running and some of the videos are first rate, between the studio and filming done in the old bondage area. Sandy has amassed a large selection of videos to offer. They keep asking when “Willy” will agree to star in another video. Seems my debut performance is still one of the top sellers. I might agree to do some more as time goes on. ...

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. ...

Episode 1 The klaxon blared and a crimson warning light swept menacingly across the dimly lit control room of the crippled rescue submarine as the Isabel and her three companions fought frantically to stem the rising water level. The water was already up to Isabel’s waist and it seemed the more she and her companions did to try to stop it the faster it rose. ‘This is way too fucking realistic,’ Tiffany shouted as the metal deck plate beneath their feet pitched to the left and the whole room tilted by about ten degrees sending a wave across the cramped chamber that nearly swamped her. ...

Episode 2 ‘Is Charlie ok?’ Asked Priya as her gag suddenly slipped away. ‘Yeth, I’m fine,’ said Charlotte in what might have been a sarcastic tone if her speech had not been distorted by the large ring passing through the end of her tongue. ‘I’ve jutht had my nippleth and clit pierthed and I’m thtrutting round like a thucking bondage Barbie.’ ‘Swearing violation,’ the voice said. ‘Punishment escalated.’ Two tendrils of black extended from Charlotte’s blindfold hooking into her nostrils lifting them quite uncomfortably, Isabel guessed. ...

Part 2 New arrivals A few days after the tour, the facility received their next resident. In a black nondescript van, a latex sleepsack was delivered. its contents had been bound since the night before. sarah is our newest arrival at the facility, her birth was witnessed by all the nightshift, and of course, Master John delivered. “Today her Master has sent her, to us, to be re-raised as a good girl who appreciates ‘not maxing out credit cards and treating others as second class’.” ...

I tried to stand completely still as I strained against the tight armbinder watching the huge dog eat the food in his bowl, I was desperate not to distract him from his meal. You see, his leash was secured tightly to my balls. As I whimpered into the cock shaped gag strapped into my mouth I watched the bunch of brightly colored party balloons that swayed gently next to me straining against the string that I currently stood on, and the shiny key tied to them. I frantically tried to think of any way out of my predicament, nothing came to mind. ...

Homestyle Part Six I was still reeling from the success of the past few weeks. The success of creating the first rubber suit off my production team in Birmingham was a genuine highlight. The work ahead was a bit staggering. Weeks ahead would prove challenging as I tried to assemble the resources to meet the needs to come closer to actual production. I also needed to reconnect with Sandy to see how our Minnesota rubber dominatrix studio project was going. ...

After a long day at the office, an hour’s food shopping in a crowded supermarket and a frustrating battle with rush-hour traffic, Jessica was more than glad to lock her front door behind her, drop the bags in the small kitchen of her rented, top-floor apartment and head for the shower, peeling off her wrap-around skirt, smart white blouse and lace-trimmed bra as she went. Knowing that her apartment wasn’t overlooked, she paused for a moment by the window to enjoy her view across the rooftops to the soft green of the trees in a nearby park, feeling the cares of her hectic day begin to ebb away. ...

I had a full night planned for my slave wife. I left her a note telling her to be prepared for an epic D/s night. Darkness came and I ordered her to go over to our casita where I had left her wrist and ankle cuffs, a collar with a leash, a black very short skirt, and a thin chain halter top which left her breasts fully exposed. I prepared our BDSM playroom, put in my favorite slave training dvd, and texted her to come back to the house. I knew her heart must be pounding and her stomach churning as she crossed the yard with a breeze blowing up her skirt (no panties) and her virtually naked top exposed for anyone to see. ...

Part 1 Laura had been looking forward to the escape room for weeks! She’d heard about the new escape room place that had just opened last month called Locked in Escapes. So far, the reviews she’d heard of the place were great, and there was one room that her and her roommate Judy had their eye on. It was called Lady Crimson’s Dungeon; it was the toughest room offered by Locked In and they couldn’t wait to try it out! Also being college students, it fit within their budget, and they figured it would be a fun way to spend a Friday night. ...

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. ...

The Pitch “How’d you like to attend a “Halloween” Costume Con in San Francisco, my treat?” Maggie texted him. “What do you mean by my treat?” Phil asked. “I make the reservations, register you for the Convention, plan out the meals. You just have to drive down and park," she answered back. “Sounds delightful, when is it?” he replied. “Last Weekend in October,” was her prompt response. Checking his calendar he replied back “I can make that work, all I do is drive down and park?” ...

Chapter 1 With Halloween a week away, Jennifer was shopping for costumes in a local party shop. Rummaging in the bottom of a dusty bin, she was surprised to find a couple of Robomaid boxes. Robomaids? She had heard of them. As far as she could tell, they were just android bodies packaged as a sexy maid. She knew there had been a whole series of federal laws passed, to limit their public presence. She didn’t remember why. She hadn’t really paid attention, since it wasn’t like somebody with her income could afford anything so expensive. In fact, Robomaids weren’t even available in her part of the country. Local conservatives had joined the religious right, fighting against the infiltration of ‘false humans’ into society. They had pressured the state legislature into further limiting the function of Robomaids in public. As a result, the local market for artificial maids had yet to take off. ...

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 8 Time Remaining in Chastity: 30 Days. Ana continued to lay on the couch as she watched Netflix, the exertion from trying to get herself out of her bonds had exhausted her. She drifted in and out of sleep as she laid on the couch, occasionally glancing down at the timer on the time-release lock, the black LED numbers slowly ticking away the hours of her secured state. “Only a couple of hours left.” She thought to herself, “Cass should be home soon.” ...

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. ...

“Margo the Magician” loved bondage that’s what had gotten her started in magic, using it as an excuse to have her friends and family tie her up. It also explained why she was bound and gagged alone when someone caught her in the “act”, letting her tell them “I was just practicing.” Margo had been practicing so much that when her family caught her bound and gagged, rolling around on the floor of her room, basement and even the garage they normally just ignored her, leaving her to free herself. To Margot that was perfect even though a few times she could have used a helping hand. ...

Sally’s Subject I: Dungeon Visit The Dungeon Visit The click when the head cage closed and locked around his neck sent a thrill down Denny’s spine. There was a certain finality in the sound, a sense his helplessness was now complete. Through the wire mesh stretched over the steel frame that now enclosed his head he could see the slightest of smiles on Mistress Edith’s lips. She’s in charge now, she knows it, and there’s nothing I can do about it. With that thought in mind he could already feel the stresses of the day draining away. ...

Part 4: Three days of servitude The first light of dawn peeked through the curtains when Melissa’s maidbot, back to being Unit 734-B, gently shook her awake. “Ma’am,” it said in its soothing voice, “it’s time to prepare for your duties.” Melissa groaned, the reality of her situation sinking in once more. The maidbot had reprogrammed itself to act as Melissa’s personal assistant in this masquerade. It had set an alarm for 5 AM, ensuring she had ample time to get ready before the ordeal at Nicole’s house. Melissa sat up in bed, the collar’s cold metal pressing against her neck, she felt a surge of anger. But she pushed it aside. There was no time for anger now; she had to survive the next three days. ...

It had been weeks since it all ended, six weeks to be exact since I was dumped by my ex. Olivia. I was yet to get over her, I was yet to feel myself again, and the only part of me that I still had was trash and diapers. But that was it, nothing else defined me, I was lost and felt utterly worthless. With nothing else to do other than indulge in my fantasies and so I spent more and more time playing in my neighbor’s trash cans. But even that wasn’t enough to fulfill my fantasies, their trash cans were alright but nothing compared to my fantasies over Olivia’s trash. ...

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. ...

19.5: Phaelyn’s Harem It’s been a good week now since winter appeared in Leon City and the cursed forest. There are only a few days left before December gives way to the New Year. The cold is everywhere, and snow covers the ground and the tops of the trees to give them a magnificently pure color. Inside these woods, the house of the atypical couple Phaelyn and Ifry is almost plunged into darkness. An absolutely Machiavellian plan is afoot within these walls. Phaelyn’s cheerful but mournful hum echoes through the cabin as she ties the knot on the last gift she has just wrapped. The packages stand innocently on the living room table, lined up in front of the angel, and she looks at them with a grim smile. ...

A Day in the Life After we loaded what would likely be the last cartload for the day, something was off for the team. Generally well matched, Lara struggled, hooves skidding on a stone, as we started up the rise. I snapped the reins firmly and she stopped, hooves skidding in on the path and pulling the cart off to the right. Cara stopped trying to pull and tried to look over at her, but her bridle and martingale did not allow her to turn her head far enough to see around the blinkers. She sighed as Lara launched into a tantrum. ...

Chapter 1: Meeting at a Tavern A gust of cold wind swept through the tavern as the door flung open, and an unusual pair stepped inside. One was a small-framed halfling, barely three feet tall, with brown locks, green eyes, and clad in simple leather armor. The other was a towering woman, tall, beautiful, and proud, with long blonde hair and the muscular frame of a warrior. For a moment, silence fell over the tavern as the patrons stared in awe at the Amazon. A wolfish grin crawled over her face. She was used to the effect she had on most people, and she gave them a second to look at her, before she let out an angry growl, which was enough to scare most of them, and make them avert their gazes awkwardly. ...

Return to Paradise Part Five I ended my trip to Munich. I left behind some fond memories. My experiences there will stay with me forever. My goal for this trip was to be able to break out of my solo rubber life, spread my rubber wings and experience rubber as others do. Thanks to the trip to Munich I was able to do so and enjoy the experience. In a way I also have to thank the gay rubber boys in Paris as well as my rubber lady of the evening for kick starting my new rubber journey. I am now heading back to Amsterdam for the final leg of my trip. It seems fitting that I am traveling openly trussed up in rubber. Tomorrow I will have a chance to explore an entire new side of rubber as a full fledged rubber doll. ...

I wiped the sweat off my brow as I placed the last mat back in its designated spot, the studio gleaming from my meticulous cleaning. The classroom had emptied out, the last of the patrons leaving with tired waves goodbye. I could still hear the hum of treadmills and the clanging of weights out in the gym, but the yoga studio was now a sanctuary of calm. “Thank God it’s over,” I murmured to myself, a hint of satisfaction in my voice. ...

Part 3: Trapped The party raged on, a maelstrom of noise, drink, and increasingly bizarre servants’ costumes. Melissa, in her role as Maidbot Unit 734-B, found herself navigating the chaos with a mixture of amusement and growing unease. She’d already fielded requests ranging from the mundane – fetching drinks and clearing plates – to the downright absurd – a man insisting she could solve complex differential equations. Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the din. “Another round of these, maidbot,” an authoritative voice commanded. Melissa turned to find Nicole, her old rival from High school, perched on a velvet couch, a glass of champagne in hand. She wore a French maid outfit adorned with colorful jewels. ...

23: Summer at Bondage School Part 2 “Mom, Mom, look what I drew!” my daughter’s bright voice called after me and I looked up from my breakfast. She held up the drawing she had been working on all Sunday morning. “That looks wonderful, Tamara,” I said, beaming with joy and carefully took the picture from her to spread it out on the table in front of me. “Honey, look what our daughter has painted!” I said to Bruce, who immediately put his newspaper aside and picked up our daughter so that we could admire her work of art together. ...

Chapter 3: Girl In A Box dot com “Hello Natsuko, nice to meet you. I’m sure you have lots of questions, so let me explain how and why you’re hearing my voice. You see I have a program that hunts the internet for unadvertised sites, IP addresses without URLs, sites not found in search engines, etc. I’ve found quite a few interesting and valuable things over the years, but your box is by far the most unique.” ...

Part 4 - Human Resources “Unngh.” “Mmm.” “Unnngh.” “Keep it up whore…” “Uunngh” “Fuck! It’s no small wonder why Wolfe wanted to keep youuu!” Oswald grunted, his hands audibly gripping the wheel of the truck. I closed my eyes, focusing on the warmth of his cock in my mouth. The steady rhythm of the engine and the movement of the truck lulled me into a kind of detached sense of reality. I’m here, but I’m not. I’m performing this act, but I’m not really a part of it and It’s almost like I’m watching from above, while my body continues to move on autopilot. ...

The door slid open with its customary hiss of hydraulics and Captain Jean-Luc Picard looked up as Seven of Nine walked up to his desk and snapped to attention. “You wanted to see me, Captain?” Picard gazed appreciatively at her for a long moment, imagining the exciting curves of her body beneath the pale grey Lieutenant’s uniform she wore. “Captain?” “Ah, yes, Lieutenant. I have a serious security problem I need to talk to you about. But first, have you carried out the instructions I gave you?” ...

7: Her Second Boyfriend Intro Ariana Inoue is a 19 year old Japanese student. She has medium length black hair. She rarely puts on makeup. Her Cute facial features and petite body are the envy of many of her classmates. She has a small B-cup and stands about 140cm tall. Ariana lives in the college dorm sharing a room with another girl named Abby. She’s been single since her last boyfriend over a year ago and feels she is ready for finding her perfect husband. ...

Amanda was the only employee who actually enjoyed* the compulsory morning exercise sessions required by her Company. She really liked all the bending and stretching that everyone else hated and objected to and soon took to wearing a skimpy leotard that showed off her slender, flexible body to best advantage. Being naturally slim and a fitness enthusiast, it was easy for her to outdo her female colleagues, many of whom were “larger ladies” and without really meaning to, Amanda unwittingly managed to annoy quite a few of them with her enthusiasm and exhortations for them to “go for the burn” and reminders that there was “no gain without pain.” ...

CHAPTER 8 ❤SISSYCon: EMBRACING YOUR TRUE COLORS A few days later, the warm water cascaded over Ash’s hands as he diligently scrubbed the last of the breakfast plates, his mind drifting aimlessly. The rhythmic sound of water and soap provided a soothing backdrop to his thoughts, offering a momentary respite. As he finished the last dish, the clinking of plates subsided, replaced by a sense of satisfaction at the tidy kitchen. He wiped his hands on a nearby towel, turning towards the living room where the inviting glow of the television awaited him. ...

22: The Bondage School 1 “If you want to see more, give me a thumbs up and don’t forget to add a subscription!” squealed Summer’s AI-generated voice from the laptop. Summer herself stared in horror at the video she had just watched. It showed her tying herself up in a vacuum bed and orgasming over and over again for hours. “Is that… is that on the internet?” Summer asked the police officer in front of her. He shook his head. ...

To say I was nervous was an understatement. I could feel my heart beating heavily in my ears, becoming quicker at a rather alarming pace. I was sure someone watching me from the outside of the suit could have easily seen my heart beating against my chest. Though, it was all understandable. It was an uncomfortable and scary situation. It hadn’t been that often Cleo, Poppy and I had seen the world outside the property. It had only been a handful of times and that was only to have a quick shop for some items. Donna never liked the thought of us being alone in the house whilst she was outside and she always saw it as a good thing that we were in the public, being sociable with normal people. ...

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. ...

Return to Paradise Part Three I assessed my personal condition after my time in Paris. After two and a half days sealed in four day old sweat and piss, my skin was on fire and every inch of it itched mercilessly. I needed a shower, a very long shower. I hoped the shower would help, or else I would have to postpone my trip to Amsterdam for a couple of days. I was going by train so postponing travel would be rather easy. ...

“So it was abandoned, just like that?” “Yeah, like I said, they just up and left, and now it’s just a derelict. Cool, right?” The pair were standing up against an old, rusted fence, peering through the hazy twilight at an old hulk of a building, perched at the very edge of their hometown. It was a ruined edifice that might once have been beautiful; flowing lines and clean surfaces on the exterior now pockmarked with corrosion and stained with decay. ...

I got a brief glimpse of two matching heads of wild blonde hair and loosely similar features before he bustled me past them and into the dark beyond. “And you told me I was wasting my money, but I was right. You said I was wasting my money buying a set of double stocks and that I would never get them filled, but there you see it. A babe in both sets of stocks. You owe me the bet my friend.” ...

“The Maid” Mr. Williams had just purchased a shiny, black latex, French, maid’s uniform with an exposed crotch area. Locking, stiff white patent leather cuffs and matching neck collar were included in that purchase. He couldn’t wait to try everything on when he got home. The French cuffs and neck collar were self-closing and posed no problem. Unfortunately, he realized he would need someone’s help with lacing up the back of the uniform. Desperate, he texted one of the maids in his apartment building and asked if she could spare a few minutes of her time. Later, he would learn that his offer of money would play no part in her decision to be of assistance. ...

Part 3 - Headhunted I sighed as I stretched my bound limbs, feeling the smooth coolness of leather around my wrists, ankles, and neck. The soft fabric of the black lace teddy clung to my skin, the tight grip of plastic that kept my feet strapped inside a pair of black 5 inch platform high heeled sandals. Another day, another hour and another morning in this godforsaken place. It had been six weeks since I had accidentally stumbled upon David’s embezzling, and since then, my life has taken a drastic turn for the worse. I never knew what each day might bring, maybe today after waiting for David to return from the office I’d endure hours of mind numbing sex that would leave me exhausted and purring like a cat. Maybe David would spend the day working from home while I spent endless hours chained under David’s desk in his office, being forced to gag on his hard cock as he attended online meetings and went through paperwork. ...

After a stressful and frustrating week at her job, Loretta was in a hurry to try out her newly-purchased medical restraints and find out whether the thick, heavy leather straps were really as secure and escape-proof as they seemed. Pausing only long enough to strip off her everyday work clothes and replace them with her “fun” outfit of sheer black stockings, suspender belt, cupless bra, long fingerless gloves and extreme high-heels, Loretta rushed to the spare bedroom she used for her games, quickly locking the heavy steel collar she had bought for herself around her slim neck and completing her costume by buckling her favourite ball-gag into her mouth. ...

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. ...

Sheriff Pierre ‘Pete’ Lebrun joined the dozen or so people standing on the platform of the train station in San Juan, New Mexico Territory, waiting for the arrival of the northbound ’noon’ train. It was the middle of July, 1889, and it was hot, even here in the highlands of the northern part of the Territory. Train movements provided most of the ’excitement’ during the daytime. There wasn’t much else happening. ...

CHAPTER 1 - NEW RULES Irina and Alex met six months ago in a twist of fate. He was a young, hungry for success intern at a law firm. She was a very successful lawyer, and much, much more. He was in his twenties but looked young as he was short, slim, and had very little facial or body hair. She was a very impressive woman of visible Russian descent; tall, blonde, blue eyed, and charismatic. ...

Part 9 “I’m very worried about her, Catherine,” Donna said with a desperate tone in her voice, “She’s been very quiet recently, please let me know that everything is okay.” Despite wearing the mask, the smell of cleaning chemicals filled my nostrils, it was one of the only scents that managed to pass through the layers of latex. I had gotten used to the smell of my second skin at this point and something new was a blessing. Not often did Donna take us out of the property, I had not seen outside the walls since before I was locked in that cage, but Poppy’s behaviour recently had got our owner worried. Since hearing the news of the upcoming trial, Poppy began to hide herself away from us. Not making an effort to be sociable with us and wanting to be alone was understandable at first, but this had been going on for a while now. We were sure at one point, the white cat would snap out of her mood and return to her normal behaviour. Even the sight of Catherine, the woman who looked after us when we were released from the suit; was not enough to alleviate the symptoms. ...

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.” ...

Part 2 The front door to the home of Mr. Info and Miss Inform clicked softly as the latter carefully unlocked the door and peeked inside. The blue paint had disappeared. Her roommate, Mr. Info, must have wiped it all up. Behind her stood her friend Miss Management, looking over her shoulder. Her red hair tickled Miss Info’s ear, although it barely reached her chin. “Too bad, I liked the new paint job,” the blue-haired woman muttered and pushed the door open to let herself and her friend Miss Management in. She had a backpack on her back in which she had stowed her loot from last time. A latex straitjacket that fitted her perfectly and wouldn’t let go once someone had tied her up in it. ...

Part 8 I woke up with a jolt. Coming to the realisation that I was still locked within the small cage. With all my heart, I wanted to tell myself that I was not far from being released from my second cell, I wanted to say that I counted everyday the sun had risen and fallen, but I had completely lost track of time. I had forgotten everytime I had seen the morning beams come through the holes in the shed, I had forgotten how many times Donna took me out of the cage to relieve myself and I’ve lost count of the amount of times I had fallen asleep. I blamed the pet brain, focusing on the here and now was mentally draining, I did not want to think about anything else but what was happening to me at that moment as I knew I would panic the moment I began to think. ...

Part 2 I FIND MYSELF crying over my rotten luck for the first time in months. This is why I usually try to avoid thinking of anything beyond my present concerns. I take a moment to compose myself. Then I turn around and realize Galasso is leaning against the doorframe of the suite I’ve been cleaning and I jump about a foot. How long has he been there? There’s a girl lurking behind him, too - it’s Candy. She’s allowed to give me orders, but right now she’s just standing behind Galasso with a neutral expression. She’s a short, small woman, her strawberry blonde hair in a long braid. She has nothing on but high heels and a pair of gauzy pink panties wet with cum, and her arms are in a box tie behind her back, which thrusts her B-cups front and center. Given Galasso is shirtless it’s safe to assume the two were fucking just a few minutes ago. ...

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. ...

Part Four Don had ignored the chime of two incoming text messages. But the sound of the Stones singing “Under My Thumb” was impossible to ignore. Glancing in irritation at the caller ID he pressed the answer button. “I’m busy, Randy.” “Yeah, well you’re going to be busier,” came Randy’s anxious voice on the line. “Jessica Walters is on her way over.” “Jessica,” Don asked, uncertainly, “The birthday shoot girl?” ...

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. ...

“Come on Jerry! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” “No.” “Come on think about it, when else will I have the chance to not only get all the equipment I need but also the space and chance to learn from real artists!” “Bunny, your parents made their wishes very clear in their will, which was you needed to finish college before you can claim your inheritance and I’m not about to let you throw it away on some silly… little… dream…” ...

Chapter 4 It had been five months since Matt had placed his order for a custom sex doll from Premium Playthings. He had been waiting for this day to finally come. He woke up this morning to a text from Gunner Beck saying that his delivery was expected this afternoon and he just couldn’t wait. He spent most of the morning pacing around the house. He was sitting on the sofa watching a baseball game when the alarm beeped on his phone. It was the main gate. Matt answered the phone. ...

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. ...

Part Three Jessica waited out the four days till Jeff’s birthday in a state of anxiety. She had found time to wash out her new corset when her husband wasn’t around. A little horse trading at work had gotten her a half day shift for Tuesday. She had considered shaving herself clean but couldn’t quite work up the nerve. The plan was “panties on” for the photo shoot. But there was always the possibility that things could get out of hand (not that that ever happened, practical Jessica smirked.) ...

Part 10 Goddess Freya pulled into the large driveway of Jo and Chris’ House, bringing her blacked out SUV to a stop with a scrunch of gravel and the driver’s side door facing the house so as to be shielded from view by the vehicle’s bulk. The key taken from Jo’s coat pocket turned in the lock and creaked open. Once the alarm had been disarmed using the phone she had also taken from her bound friend, the tall Goddess stood there for a few moments just listening to the silence. The basement dungeon was certainly very well sound proofed it seemed, unless the prisoner down there was just keeping very quiet. He had been left for over 36 hours now with no references to time at all, and no reason to believe there was anyone to hear him if he did make any noise. ...

Part 18. Torture Room Tour and Experience “Did I cum while or after I passed out?” Emma asked as she was being walked to her next destination after being cleaned up. She had little time to recover from her kinky near death experience as she saw it. Being choked out was something she wasn’t against. Drowned by someone else’s piss was not on her list. It just came to show Emma’s vulnerability inside Subspace Prison and her status as epsilon. She was definitely nervous but also curious and excited about what the guards and the warden would do to her. They were pushing her limits further than she expected at times but she both dreaded and desired more. While she had a bit of a scare, she knows that her health and life in general were important especially with some of the extra precautions she has been forced to take. ...

“No.” “…No?” I asked quizzically. “No, I have nothing I can offer you at the moment, and to be frank the only real reason I even agreed to see you was as a favor to your friend Cindy.” In a quiet pleading tone I asked. “But… but there must be something, anything? My scholarship program fell through this year and I really need the money or they’ll drop me from the school… please?” ...

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. ...

Part 2 Jessica drove home in a whirl of emotions. Her orgasm had been a surprise and an embarrassment to her. When Jeff tied her, she worked hard to stay ‘in the mood’. She found herself more annoyed than aroused. But today was something different. When Don had her helpless and offered the lightest touch she was over the edge. Was it the man himself? That thought brought on feelings of guilt. Had she just cheated on her husband? And despite the orgasm, Jessica felt like the job was only half finished. She wanted more. ...

Away From HomeIntro Ariana Inoue is a 24 year old Japanese woman. She’s turning 25 very soon. She has a naturally slender body and cute face. Ariana’s soft facial lines and her big dark eyes are admired by many. She has a small B-cup chest and she stands about 140cm tall with a nice round butt. She works from home doing contract work like translating things to Japanese and business administration work. Ariana likes to stay home and take care of her home. Doing most of the household chores and cooking for her and her partner, Kate. Kate is 27 and is very happy with her ‘instagram’ look. Her long dark blonde hair looks great on her. Like Ariana she has a fit body, but unlike Ariana she has to work out to stay in shape. Secretly she’s happy that her body is more toned than Ariana’s, just so she has the satisfaction that her working out is effective. Kate is tall and slender, at about 175cm. Kate works at a large hotel as a floor manager, her duties include dealing with guest requests and coordinating housekeeping. But also room inspections so maintenance can keep things in order. She has been in this kind of work for a few months and her boss is starting to notice how effective she is at her tasks. Kate and Ariana are living together and have been in a relationship for about 6 months now. Their adventures led to them being very close. Their occasional mishaps had both worried and upset at each other from time to time, but overall the two are inseparable. Ariana is the homey type as she’s often frustrated with the world around her. Only leaving her home occasionally when she and Kate go out for dinner or do some shopping. She rarely ventures out alone. Kate on the other hand is a bit more outgoing, sometimes she teams up with some co-workers for lunch or a movie. But much less so since she met Ariana. More recently Kate has finally discovered a balance she likes in being more dominant towards Ariana, they have bought some bondage gear and Kate challenges Ariana in ways she thought impossible months before. Ariana likes Kate’s direction for the most part and is happy to submit but has her doubts about the more public stunts Kate tried to pull so far. Hating it when Kate oversteps her vaguely defined limits. 1 - Finding a gift for Ariana Ariana’s birthday is coming up in a week, she’s turning 25. Kate has been thinking she should do something special for her girlfriend as it’s her first birthday since they’ve been together. Kate also feels she’s been a bit too experimental recently with their new bondage gear and toys so she wants to make it up to her with an extra nice present… But what do you give a girl that doesn’t really need anything. She’s visiting her friends Dana and Sheila and voices her concern. Ariana and Kate are not basic people, they live in a nice flat and it’s filled with everything they need or want. Making it really hard to find a useful and cool gift. Dana suggests something intimate. Since they’re into bondage, maybe something in that area. Kate kinda likes that idea, but is thinking something ’normal’ is more appropriate. She likes restraining Ariana, but also feels the cuffs they use now are plenty. Sheila suggests Ariana can use a new laptop. She complained to her about the worn out keyboard a while back. Kate is surprised to hear that as Ariana didn’t mention her laptop at all lately. “Well, she says it’s slow and old.” Sheila assures Kate. “Hmm” Kate responds. Having no clue what laptop she should get as she knows little more about computers other than how to use a word processor and YouTube. “I don’t know anything about computers…” She finally says. “Just go to that big store in the shopping center, they’ll know what to get.” Dana says. “Right.” Kate thinks, maybe one of those applebooks or whatever they’re called. Kate looks around Dana’s tiny little flat and thinks the young woman really should fix up the place. Everything is worn out, old or a bit broken. But she also knows Dana is in her final year of university and literally has no money to spare. It’s much the same for her partner, Sheila. Sheila works some dead-end job at a pharmacy and is not well off either. “So? When are you 2 moving in together?” Kate asks. “As soon as this dummy convinces her landlord to let me in…” Dana points at Sheila. Sheila looks out the window seemingly. “It’s not that simple.” She mutters. “See? She doesn’t love me…” Dana teases Sheila. Sheila looks at the table. “Seriously though, we don’t know. The city’s household tax is not favorable… It’s literally cheaper to live apart than to share her house.” Dana explains. “That sounds so counterintuitive.” Kate mutters. “And unfair to you guys.” “Yea well, find us a high rise apartment we can afford and we won’t have that problem.” Dana says. Kate offers, “What if I talk to our building manager and ask for a discount rent deal for a year or so?” “Hah, what does your place cost?” Dana looks at Kate. “I own my flat, but the lower levels are rentals. I’m not sure what they cost. But some of the people that live there look poor…ehh, fuck…” Kate shuts up at her stupid choice of words. Dana and Sheila frown at her. “Uhm… Sorry, I mean. Some don’t look well off. So it can’t be that expensive. No offense.” Dana winks at her. “That’s alright. But if you can ask, we can cough up some $950, all in. Maybe?” She looks at Sheila who shrugs. She’s not good with money. Kate promises she’ll talk to someone about it. She knows a few units have been empty for a while. That had to be a bargaining position. The women chat a bit more about life and having to meet more often and finally Kate says her goodbyes and decides to check out the computer store. Dana lives near the mentioned shopping center so she leaves her car at Dana’s and walks to the store. She looks around and reads the various information cards seeing higher and lower numbers and bigger and smaller screens but she doesn’t know what’s good or overpriced or what. A sales kid shows up, asking her if she needs any help. And talking to the kid for a few minutes about her intentions she’s still none the wiser. He shows her some ugly and expensive computers of which he says they’re powerful and good. “I’ll think about it,” Kate says to the teenager feeling inept in her chosen task. Wandering around the shopping area a bit she spots the Apple Store and looks at the sleek computers on display. That looks pretty, they even have a pink computer. Ariana loves the color pink. Heading in with good spirits she looks at the few models and wonders where the rest is. Small model, bigger model and an extra expensive one. It’s much the same for the screens, just two models. Could it be that simple? Also here, a sales girl pops up and Kate asks about the computers. Where are the many choices? Turns out there are few, but internally you can choose a bunch of things. Kate says she doesn’t know about that. And the girl shows her the options. A higher number usually means better, she explains. But you have to consider if you really need it. That made sense, Kate thinks, and she explains, “Alright. Here’s the thing. My girlfriend needs a new computer and I don’t know what to get. We don’t use Apple now. And I don’t know what’s good.” “Right, well first then consider the software. Apple computers use a different system.” The saleswoman shows Kate what macOS looks like and Kate thinks it’s really easy and logical. Much simpler than her own computer. The sales person also explains that for most people the base model with maybe extra storage is fine. She explains that if they both have Macs they can easily share files and things like that and the many features and options dazzle Kate but it sounds practical and useful. “Eh, so what do you recommend for someone who works from home and mostly does online office work?” “This,” the sales girl points at a MacBook Air. “Personally I prefer the bigger one, more screen right? And if you like it fast I’d add extra memory and storage.” “Ehh, ok…” Kate says. Playing with the computer. She likes the software, she even can understand it and the computer looks pretty. “And it’s in pink?" Kate asks. “iMacs come in Pink, Laptops only in more traditional colors.” “Oh.” Kate sounds disappointed. “Starlight is perhaps more feminine if that’s what you’re after.” “No, well, it’s just that my girlfriend likes pink a lot. Imagine me giving her a pink computer…” They both smirk. After thinking for a minute Kate decides she wants to give Ariana a computer as she can’t think of another gift for now. “Alright, I’ll take it. Please make sure it’s starlight and with the upgrades you said.” Kate kinda likes the color. She hopes Ariana does too. “Cool, I’ll be right back.” And the sales girl goes to find Kate’s new computer. After a few minutes the sales girl comes back with a brown box and shows her the label which lists the specifications and Kate pays for the expensive computer. Heading back to her car she sees a leatherwear store and looks at the leather boots on display. She sighs at the pretty knee high boots. ‘So lovely’, she thinks. Seeing the price she wishes she could justify it for a pair of shoes. But no. She heads home thinking about her next problem. How and where to hide the laptop from Ariana. 2 - Ariana’s birthday Ariana doesn’t want a party. She just wants to spend time with Kate. Go for a nice meal and enjoy their day. When Kate sort of insists that inviting a few people is good for her, Ariana threatens to lock herself in the closet all day. Kate knows Ariana will do just that so it’s no point arguing the issue. No party. “Just us then? What do you want to do sweetie?” They sit on the balcony on the sun bed. Ariana leans against Kate with her back against Kate’s pulled up knees. They’re enjoying a golden sunset. “Can we go for dinner and lunch somewhere? And you can do chores for a change?” Ariana asks Kate. Fair enough, Kate thinks. She nods, smiling at Ariana. “For lunch, can we go to that new Japanese place? I want to try their ramen.” “Sure, and dinner?” Kate asks. She’s not fond of ramen, but maybe they have something else. “Lasagna for dinner.” Ariana decides. “Hah, that’s nice. I’ll make reservations.” Ariana smiles lovingly at Kate, knowing she’ll organize everything perfectly. She’s very good at that. “What did you get me?" She asks innocently. “You’ll see…” Kate avoids the question. “You didn’t get me anything yet huh?” Ariana tries again. “I thought I’d keep it simple, so don’t expect too much.” Kate teases. “Aww, kaahaate.” Ariana whines playfully. “Tell me!” “Fine. It’s a notebook… So you can finally start your memoirs.” Kate laughs feeling really smart at the wordplay. Ariana looks at Kate unsure if she’s joking or not but says nothing. She doesn’t want a notebook… “You’ll see in 2 days sweetie.” “I’ll search for it…” Ariana promises Kate. “Please don’t, or whatever, you won’t find it anyway.” Ariana looks uncertain at Kate again. The next day Ariana dutifully works on her household chores and does most of the things as she usually does. Kate helps her fold the bed sheets. Just as they finish Ariana realizes that tomorrow on her birthday there isn’t much to do… Which is fine, but Kate said she would do chores for her. Oh well, she thinks. Better if I do it anyway. Finishing up the sheets, Kate heads for work kissing Ariana goodbye. Ariana won’t let go of her as usual and it takes her a few minutes to finally get free of Ariana and make her escape. Ariana feels particularly clingy today and asks if Kate can’t call in sick and stay in bed with her. Kate says she can’t do that today as she already took the day off tomorrow, leaving Ariana pouting in the doorway. “Hurry back home baby.” Ariana tells Kate as the elevator door closes. On her way down the concierge joins Kate on the 8th floor or so. Kate greets the old man and asks if he knows what the unit on floor 4 costs for rent. The man says that should be below $1000 a month. Kate then asks if that’s negotiable and the man shrugs. He doesn’t handle the rent fees. He just maintains the building. Putting on her cute face she asks if he can inquire for her, she knows of a couple that can probably move in soon. If they can do it for $600 a month for the first 2 years that’ll help them settle for the long term. The concierge promises he’ll find out. Kate rushes to work in her car and tends to her duties. There are a lot of annoying guests today, she frustratedly thinks. And why does everyone nitpick about everything anyway. She never complains this much when she’s a guest in a hotel. She sighs. During her lunch break she chats with Chloe while sending cute messages to Ariana. Chloe asks if it isn’t Ariana’s birthday yet. “Yea tomorrow she’ll be 25.” Kate informs her. “Ah, tomorrow, are you guys throwing a party?” “Yea, no, just for us. Ariana threatened to lock herself in the closet when I suggested she should invite some people.” Chloe laughs at the silly threat and reaches in her bag. “Here, can you give this to her? I bought it last month and thought she’d like it." “What is it?” Kate picks up the small package. “It’s a Japanese soap, I put the card of the shop in there too.” “Oh that’s nice.” Kate sniffs the package but there is no smell. “I think it’s sealed really well.” Chloe smiles, “I have no idea if it’s nice but supposedly it smells like those blossom trees they have there.” “A mystery soap then.” Kate concludes. “I’ll make sure she gets it, thanks!” Kate wonders why she didn’t think to get a bunch of Japanese gimmicky things for Ariana… It’s so obvious to her now. Almost regretting getting a fancy laptop. The afternoon passes slowly. Most hotel guests are finally happy and only one door card stopped working. Kate lazes around a bit at her post thinking about Ariana’s day tomorrow. She should probably make breakfast and use the laptop box as a tray? Or pretend the gift is an afterthought and give it in the afternoon? Nah, a breakfast gift is better she decides. She’ll make some toast and… ring ring Her desk phone rings. “Yes? Kate Birch here. How can I help you?” “Hello Kate,” the hotel’s receptionist’s voice sounds. “Boss wants to see you. Can you come to his office?” “Sure, I’ll be right there.” Heading to the manager’s office she wonders what she did wrong now. She only ever gets called to the office for stuff she screwed up. Knocking on the door she’s ordered inside. Nervously Kate stands in front of the big desk not being offered a chair. Kate decides it must be something bad, or something bad is about to happen. “Kate, management has decided that all employees must undergo formal training for their duties.” “Eh, ok?” “Since you lack any qualifications for your position you’re to be brought up to speed in a 2 week course in Florida.” “Florida, sir?” Kate is stunned. She didn’t expect this at all and why not just here. Locally. “Yes, got a problem with that?” “Eh, no, well that is… Can my girlfriend come?” “You’ll be put up in an AirBnB there, if she pays for the airfare she can join you.” “When is it?” Kate asks. “If you’re ok with it, next Monday. Otherwise next month.” “I’ll check the tickets, but I think Monday is fine.” “Very well, off you go. You’ll receive all details and such this afternoon via email.” Her manager shakes his head behind Kate’s back, all she cared about is her partner? She didn’t even ask about the training. Hoping he did right by investing in her. Kate stands outside the office. Adrenaline rushing through her. A trip, training. Away from Ariana. Her head spins. After a minute she gathers her wits and urgently needs to get a ticket or there’ll be trouble in her little world. There is no way Ariana will accept being alone for 2 weeks. Fuck! She thinks. As she gets back to her desk an email pops in with her itinerary such as her flight number and where she’ll be staying. She immediately books an extra ticket on her flight for Ariana. She’ll make it out to be a little trip for them or something. Even though she’ll probably be in school all day. The rest of the afternoon crawls by. Someone’s shower head ‘fell off’ and Kate had to scramble someone from maintenance to stop the flooding. The maintenance guy had accused the room’s occupants of ripping it out of the wall. And Kate had to mediate with the guests to calm things down. It’s almost 5PM, she can finally go home, already having forgotten about her training course. She doesn’t care about the training at all. Her thoughts are about Ariana and her birthday. That night the two shower together after watching TV all evening. Ariana is extra caring towards Kate and she wonders why. As Ariana slides her hands around Kate’s upper body she whispers. “I found your present…” Kate tenses up. “Oh?” She carefully replies. “2 weeks to Florida? How cool is that? Did you book a nice hotel like last time?” Kate turns around and looks her girl in her eyes. “Oh yes… I forgot about that. But that’s not your present sweetie.” Ariana doesn’t understand. “But it’s a vacation right? For us?” “Yes and no…” Kate says. “How do you know about that anyway?” Ariana says she got the ticket in her email. Kate nods, understanding it now. “Ah I see. But, it’s for work babe. I couldn’t bear leaving you here. So I talked my boss into bringing you along.” “Oh Kate!” Ariana hangs on her neck. “We’re going to Florida together! I’ve always wanted to go there and see Santa Monica beach…!” “Ehh, that’s in California, but sure, you can go to the beach I’m sure.” “California? Oh…” Ariana sounds disappointed. Kate tells her not to worry, Miami Beach is nice too. They dry off from the shower and head for bed. Ariana is all over Kate asking all about her training course and what they’ll do while there. She admits to Ariana she didn’t pay attention to any of the details and just worried about bringing her along… So she has no idea what kind of training she’s getting or what the schedule will be. Ariana giggles at hearing that and thinks she’s being silly. The next day Ariana wants to get up as she usually does to make breakfast but Kate tells her to stay in bed and kisses her happy birthday. Kate quickly freshens up and worries about making breakfast. She burns the toast and forgets to bring jam and cutlery. Ariana laughs at her terrible breakfast but bites greedily into the buttered toast assuring her it’s good. She can’t wait for her present. Kate disappears and comes back with a boring brown box. Apologizing for getting her something simple because she didn’t know what else to get. She carefully puts the box in front of her girlfriend. “Don’t open it yet. I have something else too, from Chloe.” Kate puts the tiny package on top of the box. “Chloe thought you’d like it.” Ariana pulls off the paper and as a little colorful box comes into view her eyes light up. “Look Kate, It’s in Japanese!” “But what is it?” Kate asks. Ariana rips the paper away. “Cherry blossom soap!" She laughs, and sniffs the box but smells nothing. Ariana opens the packaging and finds a sealed plastic soap bar inside. Carefully she pulls a bit of the plastic open and they smell the soap together. “Mmmm, that’s so nice!” Ariana cheers. Kate agrees it smells like spring. “And look, she put the card of the shop inside. So you can get more if you like it.” Ariana reads the business card. “Aha!” She hugs Kate, to give the hug to Chloe and thank her. She puts the soap aside and eyes the box. “Can I?” Kate nods. Sitting back hoping she bought the right thing… Ariana pulls on the tape and slides the contents out of the box. Which is of-course the iconic white Apple packaging with a big image of the product inside on it. “Whoooaaaaa! A MacBook? Really?” Ariana cheers. She shoves the box aside and hugs Kate so forceful she almost falls over backwards. “Thank you, thank you, Thank you, thank you, Thank you, thank you!” Kate laughs, “Do you know how it works? The program is very different.” “I think so? I’ll learn it. I needed a new computer! How did you know?” “Sheila told me.” Ariana rips the plastic from the box and wriggles the lid open. “Wow, it looks like champagne.” Ariana laughs. “Starlit or something it’s called.” Kate says. “It’s beautiful.” She opens the laptop and it immediately turns on and welcomes the new user. “Go set it up sweetie. Happy birthday. I’ll clean the breakfast things.” “Ok!” Ariana beams. Kate cleans away the breakfast leftovers and smiles at herself for picking the right gift. She does the dishes, cleans the kitchen a bit and heads back to Ariana. Who already finished configuring the laptop. “Look Kate, it’s working already. Here is like, eh, Office I think, and look, wifi…” She opens YouTube. “It all works very easily. You should get one for yourself too!” She knows how Kate doesn’t know computers very well. “And your files?” Kate curiously asks. “Eh…” Ariana had forgotten about those. “I’ll figure it out ok?" Kate laughs, “Sure thing babe, I’m sure it’s not too hard.” Ariana spends the next few hours fiddling with the computer installing her email, moving files to the new system and browsing the App Store finding her softwares. Kate looks at what she’s doing but Ariana goes too fast for her. “If I get one too you should teach me how it works…” Kate smiles. Ariana looks at her laughing. “Yep!” The women rush out for lunch trying the ramen restaurant Ariana picked, she thinks the Ramen is nothing special. Kate agrees, her teriyaki kebabs are not as good as Ariana’s. They spend time in the city park which is still a bit cold, it being February. There aren’t many birds or things to see yet. They’ll do some window shopping when Ariana pulls Kate into a large clothing store. “Let’s go try dresses.” she laughs at Kate. “Just for fun.” She picks a tiny silver dress, and a gold one for Kate. Kate finds high boots to go with them and lace-up sandals for Ariana. They march into the fitting rooms ignoring the frowning attendant. “Ladies, ladies, please, one per room.” She tries. But the pair don’t pay attention to her and enter the changing room giggling. Ariana undresses and helps Kate out of her clothes. “Kiss me” She gasps. Kate pins Ariana against the mirror and kisses her intensely. Holding her head in place with her hand around her neck lightly choking her. With her other hand she reaches down at Ariana’s already wet pussy. Ariana utters stifled moans as she gropes at Kate’s breasts. Both women ‘oomph’ and ‘ahh’ softly until Ariana her knees go weak and she slumps on the little bench with a dull thud. Sighing in a quiet orgasm. After a few moments Kate pushes her aside and sits on the bench motioning for her to sit on her lap. Ariana follows Kate’s silent instruction and sits on her knees facing her girlfriend. They kiss for minutes until there is a knock on the door. “Ladies,” A man’s voice sounds. “The fun is over, please finish up and step out.” Ariana and Kate look at the door startled and giggle at each other but ignore the request. “Girls, come out please.” The voice orders them more impatiently this time. “Just a minute!” Kate calls out. “We’re naked!” Ariana giggles looking at Kate. “Where so getting arrested.” She whispers. Kate stops and listens to what’s happening outside the dressing room but she hears nothing. She holds Ariana in a tight embrace while Ariana keeps kissing her neck and ear. “Come,” She whispers to Ariana. “We better get out there and make our escape.” “Or try on the dresses and pretend nothing happened.” Ariana thinks. “Or that…” And Kate reaches for a dress. Ariana slips on the Silver dress, helped by Kate. And starts lacing up her sandals. Kate then slips her own dress over her head and fidgets with the shoulder straps as the voice sounds again, ordering them to come out. Ariana and Kate look at their silly party outfit and Kate thinks the dress is very ugly. It hugs their curves but at the same time has a terrible shape. “Come out or we’ll call the police.” A different voice sounds. “For what?” Kate demands, “We’re trying on clothes. Leave us alone.” “We’re pretty sure you’re not. Come out now, or there’ll be trouble.” The stern voice calls out. “Quick get dressed.” Kate whispers, feeling it is time to try and escape. They briefly look at their terrible outfits and quickly change back to their own clothes. As they emerge from the dressing room a minute or so later all sweaty and with messy hair, 3 shop workers and several shoppers stare at them with way too serious faces to not laugh at them. Ariana sticks out her tongue and pulls Kate along as they speed walk for the exit and make their escape. Kate looks nervously over her shoulder if someone is following them. But that doesn’t seem to be the case. Ariana fumbles with her coat zipper as they rush out of the store, the cold air hitting her torso and she shivers. She laughs. “What the hell was that about?” Kate says nothing and catches their reflection in a shop window. “Gosh, we look terrible.” She laughs. Ariana looks at them and quickly tries to fix her hair. But there is no saving it. She pulls out a rubber band and combs her peaky hair to the back, making a ponytail. Kate is not much better off and decides she needs to freshen up at a restaurant. The women go find a Starbucks and look startled at their messy faces as they stand in front of the bathroom mirror. “Oh my,” Kate mumbles. Ariana looks shy. “Ehh…” They freshen up and after a few minutes look presentable again. “That was so hot” Ariana whispers to Kate. Kate nods in agreement. “But let’s not get caught from now on.” Ariana looks down… “Ehh Kate?” “Yes babe?” Ariana points at her feet. “Oh, fuck…” Kate calls out. Ariana is still wearing the sandals from the store, poking from under her skirt. Her slippers in her bag. “So we’re thieves now?” She giggles at Kate. “Tsk tsk, you are. And that on your birthday.” Kate shakes her head. “If we go back now we will surely get arrested…” Ariana thinks out loud. “Yea, let’s not.” Kate says. Back in the restaurant part of Starbucks Ariana kneels down and rearranges the straps on the gladiator sandals tightening the laces a bit. She likes the look. “They look pretty on me right?” Ariana asks. “Sure thing miss,” a man says in passing. The women look at the guy but he’s already gone and they laugh. “Well then, the men approve. Come, let’s head for the Italian.” Kate holds up her arm so that Ariana can hook into it and they walk arm-in-arm to their favorite Italian restaurant, avoiding the shop they accidentally robbed. They have an excellent dinner, Ariana of-course wants her favorite lasagna. Kate opts for fettuccine with tomato sauce and they share a bottle of sweet wine and feeling a bit drunk as they wobble and swerve back home laughing the whole way. 3 - Dinner with Lisa The next day Ariana feels like wearing her collar for a while and asks Kate to bolt it on her. She had tried to do it herself but couldn’t get a good grip on the Torx screw. Ariana also briefly tries the hood but finds it restrictive and scary. Especially knowing Kate would be at work and she’d be very helpless if Kate would be gone all day. Kate playfully suggests she should wear the hood anyway. Just to see how she’d manage. But Ariana refuses. When the collar is on and Kate leaves for work, Ariana handles some simple jobs finding yet another high paying accountant contract for almost $3000. Such a good birthday, Ariana thinks. That afternoon Ariana waits for Kate at the door welcoming her home as she often does. Helping her out of her coat and putting her shoes away. It would appear that purchasing some gear had a profound effect on Ariana. She seems happier and more subservient over the last few months. This of-course pleases Kate immensely as she wants nothing but happiness for her lover. Kate decides that Ariana should sleep with her hands and her ankles connected that night. She sends Ariana to Home Depot to buy a few padlocks and 2 meters of chain. Ariana comes home with 3 locks and the length of chain. She’s a bit nervous about what Kate is planning. So far she had worn the cuffs a few times but they’d never been tied to anything yet. Kate loops a lock through the D-rings on her ankle cuffs. And another on her wrist cuffs. Linking them together. She then considers linking the collar to the chain, but needs a 4th lock for that. Grumbling at missing a lock she thinks just linking wrists and ankles is enough for now anyway. For the first time. That night Ariana has trouble falling asleep at first thinking the restrictions on her arms are a burden but once she figures out she can put her arms in a bend so her hands are near her face she’s almost happy with her situation. Wishing she could embrace Kate. The next morning Kate lets her free. Ariana feels naughty and slips the padlock keys in Kate’s purse. As soon as Kate leaves for work she puts on a sports bra and panties and locks the chain to her collar and ankles with 2 locks on either end and locks her wrists somewhere in the middle of the chain. Genius she thinks, even if Kate doesn’t know it, she’s in control of her freedom. Kate is at work as her phone rings. A call from Lisa, her sister. She’s in town that afternoon and wants to know if she can crash at her place for the night. Since Barry is out of town, she hopes to finally meet Ariana. It’s been months since the party and thinks it’s high time she finally gets to know her. Kate replies she’ll pick her up after work. Around 5PM Kate is done with her shift and heads to the bus station to pick up Lisa. She’d been waiting in a nearby coffee shop there for a while, after doing some shopping. They head to the flat together in Kate’s car. Ariana meanwhile has prepared quite the welcome for Kate. She managed to fill her ears with putty and then spent almost 30 minutes positioning the leather hood on her scalp and carefully pulling it down. This took so long because her hands are cuffed at pretty much navel height to the chain. She can move her arms out and up quite a bit. But her hands are cuffed together. This had worked fine for typing on her laptop. But reaching her head and precise movement is a bit more tricky. Eventually she had managed. The hood is not exactly straight, but she is deaf and blind none-the-less. Of-course she can’t reach behind her to tighten the lace of the hood. But she feels ready for Kate. Ariana has been waiting for over an hour sitting kneeling in the hallway. Snoozing on-and-off hoping she would notice the door open and close. Every time she feels a slight draft of air she sits up straight hoping Kate will find her. At last, around 6PM Ariana sits up straight and shivers as she feels the draft of the door. Finally Kate is home, she thinks excitedly. The sisters enter the apartment and Lisa spots Ariana kneeling in front of the door with her head bowed down. She lets out a short scream and calls out “What the fuck?” seeing the weird thing in front of them. Kate looks surprised and shocked at her girlfriend and smiles inwardly. Oh her cute girl… And what terrible timing. Ariana had definitely felt a large draft which must be the front door and sits up, she doesn’t realize what is happening in front of her. Being deaf and blind drives her nuts she finds. Why isn’t Kate touching her? “Kate?” She says out loud. Not hearing her own voice she doesn’t know how loud she is. Lisa stands frozen in the hallway. Kate has to think fast to resolve this. She whispers to Lisa, “Can you come back in 20 minutes please? I’ll deal with this.” “What is ’this’?” Lisa whispers with a look of horror. “Ariana likes these games.” Kate says with a shy voice. “Please, come back in 10 minutes and pretend this never happened.” Lisa nods, unsure what to do or say. Kate shoves her out the door. “I’m so so very sorry. Walk around the block or something and buzz the door as if you’re just arriving.” Ariana fidgets nervously. What is Kate doing? Why isn’t she touching her? Letting her know she’s here? “Kate?!” She says again. “Hello!?” She feels another draft… And suddenly there is a hand on her head, caressing the leather hood. The palm of a hand rests on her cheek and a thumb stroking her lips. Ariana opens her mouth and sucks the thumb inside. After a few moments the hand is removed and lips are being pressed against hers and she kisses back greedily. “Oh Kate!” she moans out loud. “I missed you!” There is a pause as if someone is talking to her, waiting for a response. “I’m deaf!” Ariana calls out. “Kate? Do with me as you will!” Ariana is being pulled up by her arm and is forced to shuffle somewhere hopping a few steps trying to keep up with her mysterious handler. She is then shoved with force and she falls down without warning. Squealing in surprise Ariana lands in the soft sheets of their bed. Rolling over Ariana tries to sit up but is pushed down. She moves again, but is pushed down more firmly. Then nothing. Curious what’s happening she calls for Kate. But nothing is happening. No touch, no signals. She’s left alone maybe? She waits for Kate to return. Kate meanwhile lets Lisa into the apartment. Lisa only took 3 minutes to return. Way too soon. “I’m sorry sis. I think Ariana wanted to surprise me with a game.” Kate apologizes. “You think? You’re not sure? Maybe there is a kidnapper in the house waiting to jump out at us!” Lisa worries. “Oh don’t be weird, why would someone hide here and put Ariana in the hallway? She did this to herself.” Kate assures her “Don’t be weird? Weird?” Lisa scoffs. “You two are the weird ones…” Kate cuts her off, telling her to wait in the living room, she needs to free Ariana. “Just pretend you came in a few minutes after me and I’ll convince her to pretend she just woke up - No awkwardness.” “Easy for you to say, I just saw a bondage mummy.” “Oh don’t be so dramatic it’s just a hood and cuffs.” “Just, just a… I need a drink.” Lisa sighs. “There’s wine and beer in the fridge. Go!” Kate orders her sister away. Kate returns to the bedroom and closes the door. She kisses Ariana on her lips. Ariana jerks around, “Kate!?” Kate holds her head still and carefully pulls up the hood. Ariana’s face and hair look messy as she blinks at the light. Kate puts a finger on her lips indicating she should be quiet. “Kate!” She loudly whispers. “Please, I’m so horny! Help me out!” Kate discovers why Ariana talks so loud and peels the putty from her ears. “Can you hear me now?” Kate asks. “Yes Kate, please feel me, I’m super wet.” “Lisa is here sweetie. She arrived just as I put you on the bed.” Ariana abruptly stops everything she’s doing or thinking. “Kate, no… Please! Get rid of her, I need you.” Ariana whispers all flustered and hot. “We’ll have our time tonight babe, don’t you worry.” “But, now…” Ariana looks desperate. Kate shushes her, “Where are the keys?” “In your purse, I snuck them in there this morning.” “You’ve sat in the hallway all day?” “No, just for the afternoon. But the cuffs were on all day.” “Geez,” Kate mutters looking for her purse. No wonder she’s horny and desperate, Kate thinks. And feels tempted to treat Lisa to a hotel and exploit her girlfriend. No, she thinks. I’ll make it work. Time with her sister is rare these days. Coming back with her purse and fishes out a keyring with little keys on it and starts fitting them to unlock the cuffs and chain from Ariana, ‘accidentally’ stroking Ariana every chance she gets. With her arms free Ariana holds on to Kate. “Please, fuck me now!” She urgently hisses. “Shhh baby,” Kate shushes her while rubbing her vagina. I’ll make you cum tonight. Ariana moans from Kate’s touch and kisses her girlfriend. “Please Kate no more teasing, just fuck me.” Kate gives in and wraps a bathrobe on Ariana, “Come, quick, to the shower. I’ll set your mind straight.” Ariana eagerly climbs off the bed and follows Kate. “Just pretend you just woke up ok? I told Lisa you were sleeping.” Ariana waves at Lisa who stares at her wide eyed and Ariana yawns dramatically as she walks into the bathroom. The two disappear in the bathroom leaving Lisa alone and wondering what the hell is going on. She then hears the shower turn on and soft moaning coming from the bathroom as Kate pins Ariana against the wall licking and fingering her wet vagina. It doesn’t take much to push Ariana over the edge, pumping into her girl with 3 fingers and groping at her chest she suddenly goes weak in the knees and lets out a long stifled moan. Kate strokes her neck and shoulder kissing her before quickly rinsing off her girlfriend’s body. “Come, Lisa is waiting for us, she is staying overnight. Go make dinner. You’ll pay for this soon!” she promises her. Ariana nods timidly, thinking ‘pay for what?’ Wondering what she did to deserve punishment. “Ahem! Sorry about that.” Kate says to Lisa, I had to wake Ariana up. Mmhm, Ariana nods. “Hi Lisa,” And she extends her hand. Kate winks and nods at Lisa to play along. “Ehh, hi, nice to finally meet you.” Lisa stammers. “I’ll go make dinner, is there anything you like to eat?” Ariana moves on wondering why Lisa is being so awkward and tense. “Ehh, Steak and fries?” Kate suggests. “Steaks still frozen.” Ariana says. “But we have minced meat and chicken ready to go.” “Hamburger and fries?” Kate then tries, looking at Lisa. “Ehh… Yea, burgers are nice.” Lisa confirms. Ariana nods and heads to the kitchen. Lisa looks at Kate and bursts out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “What the fuck Kate?” Kate smiles with some difficulty. Feeling embarrassed, but also guilty for fooling Ariana. “Just go with it. I don’t want any drama.” She whispers back. They sit down and chat a bit about recent happenings. Kate is curious about her and Barry. “Oh Barry,” Lisa says with dreamy eyes. “I’m gonna marry him! I just have to.” Kate laughs, “Does he know that yet?” She asks. “No, but I want it.” She giggles. “We’ll see…” “Who’s getting married?” Ariana calls from the kitchen. “Lisa is with Barry.” Kate shouts back. “Who’s Barry?” “Garret’s friend from the party.” Kate yells. “Oh, that’s nice. Congratulations.” Ariana says, still having no idea who Barry is. Lisa pulls a face. “Lisa, can you help me for a second?” Ariana calls out at her from the kitchen. Lisa looks uncertain but Kate nods, “Talk to her, I’m going to check up on my emails. I’ll join you two in a minute.” Heading into the kitchen. She sees Ariana preparing a feast. “What do you need?” Lisa asks. “How do you like your burger? Look, I’m making the patties now. But do you want cheese? Tomato? Or how do you prefer your burger?” Lisa sits down at the kitchen table looking at all the ingredients. “Any recommendations?” “Ehh, Kate and I like a complete burger with cheese, union and tomato and all this.” She gestures over the ingredients. “Oh right,” Lisa says. “…then uh the complete burger but without union and cheese please.” Ariana nods. She works silently on the burger toppings and Lisa is fascinated by the woman who clearly has no idea she was caught pretty much naked and tied up. “So uh, how was your day? Did you do anything special?” Lisa wants to know. Ariana without hesitation says she did some work in the morning and slept through the afternoon. Liar, Lisa knows. Instead she says “That sounds so relaxing. What kind of work do you do again?” “Oh contract work, translations, accounting stuff, business administration. You saw my office right? Kate helped me build it. She’s very understanding and cool even though I don’t usually make much money.” She looks longingly out of the kitchen for her lover. “Where is she?” “She said she had to check her email or something.” Lisa informs Ariana. The women chat about themselves and Lisa asks 101 questions about her, where she’s from, previous relationships, family and her relationship with Kate and how living with her can be a nightmare. Ariana doesn’t think living with Kate is a nightmare at all. Kate is her hero, she says. Lisa laughs at that. “Well, just be glad you’re not competing with her for being the best sister. She can be tough.” “Maybe, but Kate is the best person in the world.” Ariana assures Lisa. Lisa smiles at hearing that. Ariana cuts thick slices of tomato, chops some lettuce and pickles. “No cheese right?” “No, thanks.” Lisa confirms. “More for me…” And she sticks a slice of cheese in her mouth. Such a kid Lisa thinks, she can see why Kate likes being with her. It’s playful and endearing. Lisa helps put away the leftover vegetables and ingredients as Ariana grills the burger patties. Kate comes in sniffing in the air. “Mmmm that smells good!” “Almost done!” Ariana giggles. Kate pinches Ariana’s nose and wanders to the living room plopping down on the couch looking absentmindedly out the window. She’s tired, she realizes. Very fucking tired. Can’t they ever have a boring week where nothing happens? Maybe I need a vacation… Far away on a tiny island. Kate’s mind wanders to palm trees and coconut drinks. Then remembers her training in Miami in a few days. Maybe that’ll bring some relaxation, she hopes. Ariana conveniently forgets to bake the fries as she doesn’t feel like cutting potatoes and hopes Kate forgot about them. Lisa doesn’t mind and the 2 conspire to make Kate think she never asked for them if she brings it up. They build 3 massive burgers and Lisa suggests they eat on the balcony. Ariana thinks it’s far too cold for that still, it only being February but Lisa assures her it’s fine. The two step outside and Ariana immediately shivers. “Nope. Too cold…” She exclaims. Lisa thought it would be warmer but agrees and clears the coffee table in the living room instead. Lisa kicks Kate awake “Wake up! Ariana made dinner. Appreciate your girlfriend sis.” “Huhwhadoyoumean?” Kate groggily responds. Lisa sits her sister upright while Ariana puts the plates with burgers on the table. The trio dive into their food and Lisa compliments Ariana’s cooking. “Almost as good as a whopper,” Kate smirks. To which she gets a kick from Lisa. Kate looks at her but says nothing. They chat casually and Lisa tells a bit more about Barry and how they’re doing together. Barry really likes Lisa she thinks as he even offered to move to her city, hours away from everything he knows. Kate thinks that’s very sweet and It’s high time she has a good partner after having been single for ages. Ariana thinks maybe Lisa should move to Toronto and live with Barry so she can visit Kate more easily. 4 - Talking into the night When they’re finished eating, Ariana quietly goes and cleans the table and does the dishes. Lisa leans over to Kate, “You should appreciate your girlfriend more. You’re taking her hard work for granted.” “I’m not, I do appreciate her all day, every day.” Kate defends herself. “You sure don’t show it, you lazy slob.” “What are you on about?” Kate inquires. “If you hear what she has to say about you, how she adores and idolizes you, you’d be ashamed of yourself letting her do all the chores all by herself.” Lisa accuses Kate. “But she likes it like that.” Kate counters. “Kate!” Lisa looks at her sister seriously. “You’re not listening to me… Go help her sometimes and just talk to the woman. Find out why she does what she does. Because it’s not about doing laundry and scrubbing the floor.” Hmm, Kate grumbles. She hates it when her sister berates her on something she doesn’t fully understand. “And what do you know? You barely know her.” Kate accuses Lisa. “Gosh you’re ignorant Kate. Do you ever listen in on when she talks about you or your relationship?” Kate shakes her head. “Well, you should. I doubt you’ll ever hear anything negative from her even if you’re a bitch to her. That’s how crazy she is about you and you don’t even know it. Not really anyway.” Kate is silent, considering Lisa’s words. She knows Ariana is crazy about her, but just like her friend Dana had done before she apparently has unearthed bits of Ariana in a short time she herself never noticed or considered. Am I such a terrible partner? Ignorant? She worries. Ariana comes back, “All done. What are you talking about?” “Apparently I don’t appreciate you, Lisa says.” Kate looks accusing at Lisa. Lisa rolls her eyes. “I just said she should not take you for granted Ariana.” Ariana sits on Kate’s lap and wraps an arm around Kate’s shoulders. Looking between Lisa and Kate. She wonders why Lisa looks so serious and Kate so frustrated. Like the two had a fight but Lisa won. “Eh ok… But she takes good care of me. It’s fine.” Ariana smiles. “And she’s a crap cook anyway.” She adds, sticking her tongue out to Kate. Kate pulls a face. “I can make toast!” She protests. All three laugh. Lisa compliments Ariana on being an excellent host working so hard for them and thanks her for dinner. “No problem at all,” Ariana smiles. “It’s my pleasure. I’ll get wine.” And she gets up and rushes to the kitchen. “See what I mean?” Lisa hisses to Kate. “Even if we point out you’re taking her for granted she shrugs it off and thinks you’re the best! You can do no wrong in her eyes. I want you to do better for her! She deserves that much.” Kate is tired, she had hoped on a casual evening but instead Lisa is all over her commenting on how she is doing things wrong in her relationship with Ariana. She doesn’t really want to hear it. Kate reminds Lisa they share their bed together, how more personal and involved can one be? Ariana comes back with a bottle and 3 glasses. Pouring wine for them. Lisa likes Ariana a lot, she thinks. She’s attentive, friendly, smart-ish and playful. She wishes she had a partner like her, but as a man… She thinks about her relationship with Barry, he has many of the qualities she wants, but not all and voices her worry. Barry is so sweet, and she really sees a future with him. But there is this nagging feeling in the background that something isn’t right or is missing. “Maybe you’re gay too.” Ariana suggests. “Kate didn’t know either till last year… Or he’s not the one… Or maybe he’s gay… Or he’s cheating… Or maybe he likes his work too much…” Kate looks at Ariana and mouths to shut up. Ariana stops suggesting things and looks at the floor leaning against Kate’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Kate says. “It’s probably the nerves or the distance between you two.” Lisa nods and they all sit quiet for a moment and drink their wine. “Hey I’m really tired, I’ll go lie down. It’s getting late anyway.” Kate says. She motions for Ariana to get up so she can get up herself. “Don’t make it too late, ok? I’ll wait for you.” She whispers to Ariana. Ariana makes room and looks at Lisa questioningly. Lisa looks at her hands. She senses loneliness in Lisa. Kate wishes them goodnight and disappears into the bedroom after topping up her wine. “Hey, you ok?” Ariana asks Lisa. Leaning into her. Lisa looks up and promises she’s ok. “Wanna talk some more? Or are you going to sleep as well?” Ariana wants to know. Lisa rubs her arms and prefers to talk for a bit longer. Maybe they can watch a movie or something? Ariana leans into the corner of the couch and makes herself comfortable. Lisa sits cross legged next to Ariana. And they chat a bit more about being alone and how to deal with it. A thing Ariana was quite good at before meeting Kate. While watching TV together Ariana nods off and falls asleep. Lisa feels sleepy too and leans back against Ariana and not being rejected she dozes off as well. An hour later Lisa in her sleep turns over and embraces her new friend as if they’re lovers. Ariana breathes quietly, unaware of what Lisa is doing. Lisa sleepily listens to Ariana her heartbeat thinking she is Barry. Kate meanwhile sits in bed reading a book and thinking about what Lisa had said. She’s half waiting for Ariana, half just wasting her time not wanting to talk to Lisa for now. Around midnight Ariana wakes up and wonders why she’s not in bed. She feels a person hugging her closely and assumes she fell asleep on the couch with Kate. The TV is showing stupid telesell commercials and might as well be turned off. Ariana bends forward to grab the remote and notices Kate’s hair is very brown and looks startled at Lisa’s scalp. Did she confuse the 2 women? No, she was watching TV. Lisa did this. She squirms a bit trying to get away from under Lisa, but is being held on tight. Seeing no other option than to wake her girlfriend’s sister she simply pushes her aside and quickly gets up from the couch. Lisa mumbles something, mentioning Barry but stays asleep. Ariana then pulls on Lisa’s legs so she’s laying flat and in a somewhat normal position and leaves her there. Heading for the toilet and then to Kate. Kate sits in bed with her laptop, she’s watching YouTube videos. “Kate!” Ariana gasps. “Why didn’t you come get me?” Kate looks at Ariana, “Didn’t you have fun with Lisa?” “At first yes, but later on she slept on me after I fell asleep. I thought she was you!” Kate frowns, not quite understanding what Ariana means. “Slept on you? Explain.” “We sort of finished talking and I fell asleep, and when I woke up just now she’s all over me holding me like I’m her boyfriend or something. It’s very awkward. We sleep like that too…” Kate shakes her head and puts her laptop aside. “Come sweetie. Get your collar and chastity belt, we’ll go to sleep.” Ariana gets the requested items and Kate bolts on the collar for the night. She then has Ariana step into the leather belt and straps it on tight and locks that too. “I should add the vibrator as a punishment for sleeping with my sister.” She jokes with a fake frown. “I didn’t do it Kate, honestly.” Ariana says flustered not realizing Kate is joking. Ariana has a love hate relationship with the vibrator. She loves the orgasm it provides but hates the torture it allows Kate. But at the same time she secretly loves the helpless feeling as her body betrays her when Kate pushes its, and her, buttons. “I know sweetie, and you’re too noisy anyway with the thing on level 4 or higher… But I’ll get you someday.” Kate jokingly promises her. Ariana looks at the ground suddenly feeling guilty for something she didn’t do. “That’s not fair…” She mumbles. Kate slaps her butt. “Life’s not fair. Now get to bed.” She walks out of the bedroom to check on Lisa and sees her sister smirk on the couch in a weird position. Sighing quietly she gets a blanket and pillow from the storage cabinet and puts the blanket over her sister and places the pillow at her head. Does she have to take care of everything around here? She thinks amused. Dana, her friend, would say that someone has to keep order… Maybe she’s more right than she knows. Ariana climbs into bed and sighs thinking about the 2nd promised punishment she doesn’t deserve. Kate is so mean sometimes. Hopefully she forgets. Soon forgetting her worries as she nods off and sleeps dreaming of Kate showing her off naked on the balcony to the world making her orgasm in front everyone causing people to laugh at the goofy faces she makes. Kate grabs a drink and quickly eats a biscuit before heading to the bathroom and brushes her teeth. She sees someone move behind her but pays no real attention to it. Just one of the women. Lisa sneaks up behind her and startles Kate with her being so close suddenly. “Hey,” She says, rubbing her eyes. “Hey cheater…” Kate replies. “Cheater?” “Yea you slept with Ariana.” Kate laughs, “Or so she says.” “All I remember is that I snuggled up to Barry.” “Barry huh? Ariana looks nothing like him…” Lisa looks at her not sure where this is going. “Sorry Kate, we just dozed off watching TV. I must’ve thought she was him.” “I know, I know. I’m just pulling your leg.” Kate winks. “I put a blanket and pillow on the couch.” Kate walks off with a good night and closes the bedroom door. Now it’s Ariana time, time to make her pay for her silly stunt from earlier, she thinks. But Ariana is already sleeping… Sighing Kate quietly joins her and plays with her girlfriend’s hair for a bit. Admiring her cute face as she often does. Ariana looks much more peaceful lately, she thinks. Must be the restraints or something. She’ll apply her punishment in the morning. The next day Lisa looks tired and worn out. Sleeping on couches never really had her preference. But not having to book an expensive hotel made up for it. She’ll sleep more in the train when she goes home tonight. The 3 have breakfast. Ariana has made pancakes and looks nervous at Lisa, asking if she likes them. Constantly moving around offering more syrup or sugar, more juice or anything to not having to sit still. With breakfast done Lisa insists on Kate walking her out as she leaves and implores her to involve herself a bit more with Ariana and her world and not treat her like a little servant all the time. Kate promises she will. But thinks Lisa has no idea how their relationship works. Meanwhile Ariana cleans up the kitchen and desperately waits for Kate to come back hoping she would remove the vibrator Kate forced her to wear all morning on a low setting. Her so-called punishment. She feels naughty thinking that Lisa didn’t notice their little game but she’s had enough now and hopes Kate agrees. She’s super horny and needs her orgasm… Or at the very least for the teasing to stop. Kate can’t get Lisa’s words out of her mind and decides to involve herself more with Ariana other than living together and being lovers. She thinks helping cooking is a good start and promises herself she’d help Ariana cook sometimes. Or to help fold the bed sheets more often and things like that. 5 - Kate’s big news A few days later Kate comes home from work and tells Ariana to get naked and wait for her in the bedroom. They’re supposed to leave for Miami tomorrow. Ariana is very curious what Kate is up to and quickly obeys her girlfriend. Stripping out of her leggings and shirt, followed by her underwear. Ariana sits on the corner of their bed waiting for her girlfriend. After a few minutes she finally enters the room. “What’s up Kate?” Kate holds up her keyring and says she has a proposition for her. Ariana lights up. “An adventure?” “Something like that…” Kate says. “Right, here’s the deal… You can stay home for the next 2 weeks on your own.” Ariana’s face darkens. “Or,” Kate continues. “Or you wear your chastity belt for the 2 weeks we’re in Miami.” Ariana looks confused. “Eh Kate… What? I don’t want to be alone…” “Are you sure?” Kate asks. “Yes of-course, I want to be with you and explore Miami. Go to the beach and help you with your training.” Kate smiles and Ariana worries just how serious Kate is. Two weeks in the belt? How will she wear her swimsuit and go to the beach? The next morning Ariana packs their suitcases. Swimsuit for her, Bikini for Kate, dresses, Kate’s favorite jeans, shirt and brown jacket for school. Shampoo and toiletries. And everything else they need for their trip. Kate tidies up around the house making it ‘away’ ready. Unplugging the TV and such. She quickly checks over the suitcase and adds the leather chastity belt and closes the case. Heading to the airport Ariana asks if she really has to wear the belt. But Kate only says, “That’s the deal.” The airport is annoying, lots of moody employees bothering the passengers with their security nonsense. Ariana wears her stolen gladiator sandals under a short mid thigh dress. She really really likes them. Kate is dressed more formally and looks ready for a meeting. Landing in Miami Kate steers them to the toilets and she pushes Ariana into the disabled toilet, zipping open her suitcase. “Here put it on. Remove your panties.” She hands the leather chastity belt to Ariana. Ariana says nothing but takes off her panties and pulls the leather garment over her hips. Kate smiles at her sweetly, “last chance… two weeks in the belt or go home now.” Ariana thinks she’s joking about sending her home but accepts the belt anyway. click The lock sounds ominously loud as it snaps shut. “You’re my bitch now.” Kate whispers. Ariana looks at Kate weirdly and wonders what she’s getting herself into. She stuffs Kate’s winter coat in the suitcase and her own on top under the handle and they leave the toilet block. 6 - The house of horrors Outside the airport terminal they find a taxi and head for their assigned house. It’s an OK house in the city. Not too far from the beach and it has some shops in the area. The house itself has several bedrooms and there is a double garage. Kate already feels tired from the oppressive heat in Miami and looks at a bedroom and living room and doesn’t care much for the rest at the moment. Ariana is more curious and explores the whole place. In the 2 car garage she finds a massive chain link cage kind of setup with a little dog-house inside it. It takes up half a parking space. Curious, she steps in and the gate clangs shut behind her. Looking inside the doghouse she sees no dog. She turns and wants to leave the cage but the gate is locked. She shakes the gate trying to dislodge the latch but it’s stuck. “Kate?” She calls out. But Kate has dozed off. “Fuck!” Ariana curses. “KATE! HELP! KAAAAAATE!” Ariana screams and yells for minutes until Kate finally comes rushing in seeing a distressed girlfriend in a cage. “What’s up?” She laughs. “I can’t get out Kate…” Kate laughs at her silly face and says “Well, guess you gotta stay in there then. Since I don’t have the keys.” Ariana looks startled. “No! “She exclaims. “Please find it…” Kate thinks for a moment. “What will you do for me to get out?” “Anything…” Ariana dumbly says. “Alright, I’ll trade your freedom for your clothes for the day.” “What?” “If you want out, you’ll give me everything you’re wearing.” Ariana says nothing but undresses and throws her clothes and sandals over the fence. “Good. Now slide your phone under the gate.” “Kate please go get the key.” Kate gathers all Ariana’s things. “I’ll search for it, stay put. Enjoy the doghouse for now.” And she walks away. “Kate?!” Ariana shakes the gate. She wants out badly. Kate closes the garage door behind her. She’s pretty sure the cage key is on her keyring. But this is fun… Kate unpacks their suitcase and puts everything in the bedroom closet. She then looks in the fridge and finds it empty. Laughing at Ariana waiting in the kennel she heads out the door to the nearby supermarket. She buys freshly made, ready to oven pizzas, some drinks and Pringles. Tomorrow they’ll see what they’ll do for dinner. Maybe Ariana can sort out some groceries while she’s in class. Heading back lugging her shoppings she wonders how Ariana manages all that every time. Probably on her scooter, she thinks. Back at the apartment she puts away the groceries and goes check on her girl. She hears her calling her name already from the hallway. She finds a nervous Ariana, pacing back and forth in the kennel. “Kate! Please let me out, what took you so long? I need to pee. Please.” She looks at Kate with big pleading eyes. Kate laughs at her saying she looks like a caught doggie and looks at the gate lock, opening it without a key. It isn’t locked, just latched closed. Ariana sees Kate doesn’t use a key and mutters something unintelligible. Much to Kate’s amusement. “Go pee sweetie, 2nd door to the left. When you’re done, freshen up and put the pizza in the oven.” She hands the key to the chastity belt to Ariana. “Yes boss.” Ariana bows her head in shame and quickly moves into the house. Kate looks around in the garage, sees nothing of interest and follows her girlfriend. She doesn’t like the place. It’s ugly. The walls are an ugly green color. Nothing makes sense color wise in this place. Luckily it’s only for 2 weeks, she thinks. Checking her email Kate finds her course schedule. A class tonight? Geez. Kate enters the address in Maps and sees the education center is nearby. But, still a good 20 minute walk. She sighs and calls out to Ariana to hurry with dinner. “Ok baby.” Comes her clear voice. Kate finds her in the kitchen trying to work the oven. “I have class tonight… Starting in 90 minutes.” She sighs. “I’m so not in the mood.” “That’s ok. I’ll make the house nicer… It stinks in the bedroom.” Ariana promises Kate. “What a dump huh…” Kate scoffs. “It has bad energy. I don’t like it.” Ariana says with a sad voice. “When will you be back?” “I hope before 10pm” “Oh, and tomorrow?” “That’s a day class, but only in the afternoon.” “So we can sleep in…” Ariana says with a smile. Kate is distracted by Ariana’s naked figure only wearing the chastity belt. It fits like a glove. She stares as Ariana gracefully moves through the kitchen talking about the house, the flight. Not listening at all to what she’s saying. Ariana looks at Kate and sees her stare at her. “Enjoying the show?” “Huhwhat?” Kate is pulled out of her mesmerized thoughts. “There is a crocodile in the pool…” Ariana smirks, remembering she read about that happening in Florida. “Oh…” Kate says distractedly. Ariana rolls her eyes and inspects the pizza. The one in the top is ready. She takes it from the oven and cuts it into slices and plonks the plate in front of Kate. “Here, have your dinner, miss distracted…” Kate, her thoughts are interrupted by the smell of pizza and she looks at Ariana. “What did you say?” “If you can’t think straight with me naked you better give me my clothes back…” Ariana smirks. “No, that’s fine, I’ll leave soon anyway. You’ll get your stuff tomorrow morning.” Ariana gets the 2nd pizza from the oven and slices it up as well. They eat in silence. Kate is constantly stealing glances at Ariana. “Hey, come to earth!” Ariana pokes Kate on the nose. “I think you have to go now.” Kate looks at her phone and sees she should hurry. “Shit!” She quietly mumbles. She’d rather stay with Ariana and play with her. Ariana looks longingly at Kate as well. Kate hugs her girlfriend and kisses her goodbye with the instruction to not cheat on their deal but otherwise she’s at liberty. Ariana walks her to the door and without thinking waves Kate goodbye from the front door. Their neighbor from across the street almost falls off his little step ladder seeing the naked Japanese chick wave at another hottie. Ariana smacks the door closed and cleans up the kitchen. She finds another nicer bedroom that doesn’t stink and decides to move all their stuff to that room and closes the stinky room’s door. Now to tend to herself. She’s been feeling horny from being locked helpless in the cage and belt. She flops down on the couch and rubs her crotch feeling a tiny sensation. Groping at her nipples and squeezing her breasts she feels the excitement grow, but not nearly enough. She suddenly has an idea and runs to the kitchen finding a spatula. Sliding it in her leather restraint she can rub her vagina. “YESSS!” She exclaims, and starts rubbing full of energy. Minutes later she’s squirming on the couch moaning loudly and masturbating with the spatula. She cums loudly and immediately feels guilty about what she did. Panting from her exertions she rests for a few minutes. Ariana cleans the spatula and explores the house a bit more. There is a secluded little garden with some nice flowers. She steps outside in the humid evening air and walks the length of the garden, but sees a man sitting in the next-door garden. Quickly stepping back as she is still naked. She rushes back inside hoping nobody saw her and notices a wet spot on the couch. Grrr, she thinks. Hoping it’ll dry soon. Ariana saunters to the Garage again, and again focuses on the kennel, inspecting the door so she can unlock it next time. She then blocks the gate and enters the cage. Sitting in front of the dog house she inspects it. Wondering if she fits inside she crawls backwards into the little house and finds she barely fits inside. Crawling back out she looks around the garage to see if there is a bicycle. She sees none, but finds a large dog collar with a small box on it, A GPS or something she assumes. She straps the thing on and pulls it tight. The collar clicks shut and is stuck on her. Arian tries to adjust the collar as it’s a bit too tight but can’t get it off. She can’t figure out the latch or buckle and sees no keys to try. “Fuck!” She whispers and wags her butt like a dog. “And now…” She starts saying, but instead screams and falls to the floor as a strong electric shock shoots into her neck. The scream triggers more shocks which trigger more screams which trigger more shocks and so on. Ariana stumbles across the garage in pain clutching the collar. In her struggle she bumps against the gate and ends up inside the cage with the door falling shut. Ariana finally manages to keep quiet, learning quickly that she can’t make a sound. “What the fuck!? That hurts.” Ariana quietly moans. She looks around and notices she’s in the cage again. She moves to the door and tries to open it but she can’t reach the latch through the chainlink. “Fuck!” She says under her breath, which earns her another strong shock. The cycle of pain and screams repeats itself again and Ariana cries uncontrollable, constantly making too much noise so the collar keeps torturing her. After almost 15 minutes of near constant shocks she finally manages to control herself and holds her breath only making ‘mmmmh-ing’ sounds until the pain stops. Feeling miserable she crawls on the dog pillow in the doghouse and after a while of bored waiting for Kate to save her she dozes off in a restless slumber. Only to be shocked by the collar minutes later when a car outside honks its horn. She hates the stupid house and their trip already. Kate sits in class bored. Listening to stuff that’s not relevant to her job. The class is a waste of her time basically and she wonders if she’s in the right class and why she’s here. She misses her girlfriend badly. Finally it’s 10PM and the class is dismissed. She walks home thinking she should bring a milkshake or something and orders 2 large vanilla shakes from McDonalds. “Ariana, I’m back. She yells through the house.” But there is no response. She checks the bedroom and sees all their stuff gone. Not understanding, she searches the other rooms and finds their belongings in a much nicer bedroom on the other side of the house. “Aha! Clever girl.” But where was her clever girl… “Ariana? Where are you?” Ariana hears Kate rummage through the house but is terrified to make a sound. The collar had shocked her nearly continuously for the last 3 hours. Every time she sighed, moved, breathed too loud the damned thing would go off. And if she managed to not upset the collar, a sound from outside would trigger the thing. She wishes she could just die, her neck hurts so bad. The garage door opens and Kate yells into the room for Ariana. This triggers the collar and Ariana screams and her voice gives out for the 100th time and makes a choking throaty sound. Kate sees her spasm in the doghouse. And wonders what the hell is going on in there. She unlocks the gate and disables the latch and calls out to Ariana, kneeling next to the entrance. “Babe, hey? What are you doing in there?” All the while triggering the collar with her voice. She grabs Ariana’s hips and pulls her out from the doghouse. She comes out looking pale and feverish. Kate sees the big collar on her neck and asks what it is. Ariana makes sounds like she’s being strangled and clutches the collar and pulls on it with a weak but desperate determination. Something is super wrong Kate realizes. Can’t she talk? And why does she look so pained and terrified? Kate turns her girl around and sees a big clasp holding the collar on her neck and notices the little box next to it. What the hell is this thing, she thinks. Figuring out the clasp she has to push a button in, and slide the knob for the latch to pop open. As she pulls the collar away from Ariana’s neck two connected red marks in her neck come into view. Ariana relaxes immediately and slumps on the floor barely conscious. “Babe? Hey! Ariana, talk to me!” Kate looks worried. Ariana tries to talk but can’t think straight from the pain she endured nor can she form words with her broken voice. Goddammit, there goes her relaxed Miami vacation, Kate thinks. She lays Ariana flat on the floor and slaps Ariana in her face to startle her. This works and Ariana moans painfully, looking at Kate as if to say ’let me die’. Kate then carries her to the bedroom and dribbles water in her mouth which she weakly swallows. Heading back to the garage looking for clues she finds the collar and sees the steel prongs poking out at the inside. Kate wonders why Ariana would lock on a shock collar and then finally understands what had happened. Ariana had shocked herself with this thing. She rushes back to her girl who is sitting up in bed looking for Kate. “Kate!” She croaks. “Stay here. Please.” Kate sits down next to Ariana, “What the hell happened babe? Why did you put the collar on and lock yourself in?” “An accident. I thought it’s a GPS tracker and wanted to play doggie for when you got back. It shocks for hours, non-stop. I want to die… Gate locked and I couldn’t reach it.” Her voice trails off. “Oh baby, and you nearly killed yourself. Come, lay down, drink more and rest.” Kate looks worried, feeling the marks in her neck. She looks at the red spots and they look like severe burns. Ariana mumbles incoherently and Kate has no idea what she’s saying or trying to do. 7 - Recovery Ariana sips on a drink through a straw and doesn’t feel like moving at all. Everything hurts. Kate has her drugged up on painkillers but it’s not really working. Her voice was almost back to normal in the morning and her mind got a bit unscrambled too but her body remains sore. Kate tries to take care of her girlfriend but she’s not sure what to do with the situation. She had removed the leather chastity belt and is considering if Ariana needs a doctor. She should probably go to a hospital for a check up. But Neither she nor Ariana want to admit something stupid happened. Kate makes a simple lunch and Ariana nibbles on a slice of toast. She then rushes off to class, promising to be back as soon as possible. Ariana sleeps soon after. That afternoon the housekeeping crew enters the house to do the cleaning up. Unknown to the women, this is part of the rental. The two women find a half asleep Ariana naked on the bed. And one of them takes a sneaky picture of the pretty girl. Ariana looks around sensing someone’s presence but sees no one, she closes her eyes again. The cleaners don’t find anything to do as Ariana had cleaned the house last night, so they just take out the trash. They walk by Ariana’s bed again and whisper they should have some fun. Ariana breathes steadily which means she sleeps. They carefully drape her bedsheets over her head and the other strokes her stomach. Ariana moans quietly and mumbles Kate’s name. The women smirk, and the one touching Ariana slips her hand down and over her crotch. Cupping her vagina. ‘mmm’ they hear from under the bed sheet. The woman slowly fingers Ariana for a few minutes but as she gets too excited they stop and hurry out of the house. Leaving Ariana to wonder why Kate stopped teasing her. Kate meanwhile can’t stand the classes and contacts her manager asking if there has been some kind of mistake. Nothing her instructors talk about is relevant for her position. If that’s still coming or if she should be in another class? Her manager promises to check it out and call her back. Having escaped her class for now she also calls Ariana to check on her and hears a soft voice at the other end. She asks if Ariana is doing better and hears she had a nice dream of Kate fingering her. “So you’re almost better?” Kate asks. “How is your neck?” “I don’t know. I can’t see it but it still hurts and itches.” Ariana complains. “Mmhm. Well rest more I’ll be home soon.” She promises. Home, Ariana mutters. She wishes she was home. After class Kate finds a big pharmacy and explains to the man there that she needs to treat two electrical burns. Describing the marks in Ariana’s neck without too much detail. Loaded with painkillers, bandages, medical tape and aloe gel she gets back to the AirBnB so she can treat Ariana. Sticking a big bandage on her neck soaked in aloe. The next day Ariana feels a lot better but is still weakened and prefers to sleep and relax through the day. The cleaners come and go without the girls knowing about it and Ariana has a nice dream again about Kate stroking her. Kate’s manager calls back and assures he she’s in the right place. And when Kate argues that she’s not part of the maintenance crew and wants to know why she needs to learn about lift controls and air-conditioning maintenance. She gets the simple order to just be present and get her certificate. Kate rolls her eyes and thinks she’s being used by the hotel to comply with some regulation they don’t want to truly follow. Filling a quota or something. Back at the house Kate brings dinner and the girls sit at the kitchen table eating their salads and subs. Ariana says she is feeling a lot better and that maybe tomorrow she’ll go to the beach. Kate inspects Ariana’s neck and replaces the bandage with a new one coated in aloe. “It’s still very red, sweetie. I don’t know what to do about that.” Ariana worries maybe it’s a scar and fears she’ll be ugly because of it. Kate soothes her that if that’s the case she doesn’t mind and if her hair is covering her neck others won’t even see it. The next day Ariana goes to the beach, Kate has again put a new bandage on her neck, she does this twice a day, and Ariana feels like sitting in the sand. She finds a nearby beach and walks that way in her swimsuit and a skirt carrying a big bath towel. Along the way she gets 3 offers for drinks from men and one even wants to make a porno movie with her as the star. She declines all of them. Only hesitating at the porn offer because it’s so outlandish. Talking to strangers asking if they wanna do porn… What’s wrong with the world, she thinks. She curiously asks what kind of porn and hears the cliche ‘Japanese schoolgirl doing anal’ scenario. How much would that pay? The man offers a couple of thousand bucks. Not enough, Ariana says. And walks away. The man walks along keeping up and hands her his card, for if she wants to discuss it further. She takes the card and slips it in her phone cover without looking at it. 8 - Barry at the beach Arriving at the bright white beach she’s amazed with how nice the water is. She loves the white and blue contrast between the sand and the sea. Sitting down near a lifeguard tower she enjoys her view and stretches out on the luxuriously white sand. She takes a selfie and sends it to Kate, just to tease her, and gets a bunch of hearts and an angry emoji back. Ariana laughs at the reply and types, ‘It’s beautiful here.’ To which she gets an ‘it’s stupid and boring here.’ It appears they’re at opposites today, she laughs quietly at her phone. ‘Wish you were here.’ ‘Wish I was there too!’ Kate replies. Ariana rolls around in the sand for a bit, looking in all directions at the people and the hotels in the background. So nice. The lifeguard spots the hot asian chick near his tower and comes over for a chat. He starts with a ‘Konichiwa’ as if that’s original and asks for her name. “I’m Ariana”. She blurts out looking at the guy’s impressive sixpack and muscled arms. He introduces himself as Barry. She jokes it’s not gonna work out then, because she already knows a Barry. The lifeguard looks genuinely hurt by that and she invites him to sit down. They chat for a while and Ariana has a good time. He asks about her bandage and she says she had an accident with some electrical wires a few days ago. “You were electrocuted in your neck?” He asks with an amazed tone. Ariana nods sheepishly. “Did you go to a doctor?” Ariana says she didn’t. Her friend puts a bandage on it twice a day. Barry nods and asks if he can see it. He’s a trained medic. “Sure,” Ariana wipes her hair out of the way. Barry comes real close now, she can feel his breath and smell his sunblock. He carefully pulls away the bandage and looks a bit shocked at the fiery red spots. “Girl, you’re lucky to be alive…” He says with a worried voice. Ariana looks at him, “really?” “He traces his finger down her spine. “Many nerves are here and the burns are just a few inches away from it. That’s very dangerous.” “Come with me, I have an ointment for this that works better than aloe.” He invites her into his guard tower and sits her down on a desk chair. He pulls out a massive medical kit and gives her a tube of healing ointment for burns. He instructs her to apply the ointment 2 times a day until it stops itching. He treats her neck with the utmost care and smears ointment on it and applies a new bandage. Ariana enjoys his attention and care a lot. He seems to truly care for her. She looks at him, wishing Kate could meet him. Barry thinks she looks at him wanting to take things a step further and he carefully leans in for a kiss. Ariana, caught off-guard, returns the kiss before realizing she shouldn’t. She feels his tongue on her lips and pulls back. “Barry, stop. I… Can’t…” Barry looks at her questioning, “Why?” “I have a girlfriend,” she admits. He stands up straight. “You don’t kiss like you’re a lesbian.” “I used to date guys…” Ariana says apologetic. Hmmm, Barry turns around looking over the beach. “I, uh, better go,” Ariana stutters. “Thanks for your kind help Barry. It was really nice to talk to you. Sorry for misleading you.” “Yea sure, no problem,” Barry says looking hurt. He really really likes Ariana. She quietly walks out the door. “Ariana!” He calls after her. As she turns around he grabs her shoulder and presses a kiss on her lips. Ariana looks at him wide eyed. “Please, Barry, no. I’m not lying. Sorry.” She quickly walks away and gathers her things, her head in turmoil, feeling guilty towards Kate. She feels sorry for Barry. He looked at her like Kate looks at her sometimes. Sensing his genuine interest in her. Ariana moves further down the beach and sets her things down near a restaurant thinking she can order a drink or something. Looking around at her new setting she’s approached by some people, “Hey cutie, You look hungry! We need +1 for lunch so Will doesn’t feel lonely.” He motions to the restaurant. “I don’t eat lunch with men called Will,” Ariana snips back. What’s wrong with this place she thinks. The group laughs at Will for being eternally lonely now. And Will looks out of it. Ariana asks him to join her instead of the idiots laughing at him. Now Will laughs and the group falls silent. Will sits down next to her. “Hi, I’m will.” “Ariana” she extends her hand. “Just pretend we’re talking or something. So they won’t bother you.” She whispers in his ear. “Alright.” He nods. “No offense, but I don’t like dating Asians.” Ariana pulls a face and tells him she has a girlfriend called Kate. Will laughs. Well then, wanna make a fool out of all of them? She nods. “Just lean in to me like you’re really comfortable and enjoy my company.” Ariana scoots closer and hangs around Will’s neck leaning on his muscular chest. A cheer comes from the group. They sat down at the restaurant Ariana looked at a few minutes ago. “Your deodorant stinks, Mr. Will,” she whispers. Will smiles uncomfortably, “Ehh, sorry. I guess. Let’s walk away hand in hand. When we’re out of sight we’ll go our separate ways.” Ariana nods. Happy to get rid of Will and his stupid friends. Will courteously gathers Ariana’s things and puts them in her bag. Noticing the porn studios card on her phone. “You’re an actress?” He asks. “No, why?” “The card.” He points at her phone. Ariana laughs and grabs his hand. Leaning into Will as they walk away. “I don’t do porn for money mister.” They walk away stared at by Will’s friends. They thought to make fun of him but instead he seems to have a date now. They quickly find it unfunny and focus on something else. Will sees his friends do something else and lets go of her hand. “Thanks for the rescue.” He laughs. “And thanks for carrying my bag.” She thanks him. Ariana dawdles for a second not sure how to end this and Will kisses her hand as a goodbye. She decides to find a restaurant and see if Kate can join her. ‘Are you free yet?’ She sends a message to Kate. ‘Yes girl! Where are you?’ comes her reply after 5 minutes. Ariana wanders back in the direction of Barry’s tower and sees a nice restaurant that has salmon. ‘Near the beach. I’m hungry.’ Ariana tells the waiter she’ll be right back with her friend if he can keep a table free. She smiles at him with her biggest eyes. Of-course he can. As long as she’ll be back soon. She sends her location to Kate telling her to hurry and sits on a bench looking at Barry’s lifeguard tower. Barry the watchful lifeguard sees her sit down, facing his direction and his hopes rise. She’s back! For him? After a while he sees another woman come up and kiss Ariana intensely. Whoa, he thinks. Fuck me that’s mean, he thinks. His day is ruined. Kate and Ariana head into the restaurant welcomed by the waiter. They have some great grilled salmon. Ariana tells her about her beach adventures and they laugh at the porn card. “Thousands of bucks for a fuck huh?” “Yea, anal too.” Ariana smirks. Remembering she used to do anal quite often. 9 - Two weeks Days pass quickly at the beach. Ariana goes every day and is very popular with the men. She gets many more offers for drinks and even another offer to do porn. One guy just wants to show her his boat and party with her and some other girls. She feels very wanted and hasn’t felt this social in years. Even though there is nothing social about most of the men preying on her. Kate joins her whenever she can and notices Ariana is healing quickly now. She’s more energetic and talkative every day. The red spots are still ugly welts but the ointment she got from Barry seems to work well. She also convinced herself that the hotel had singled her out as the only unqualified employee to get certified up to look better in business reviews. Why else would they send her on this pointless course? On the other hand it does flatter her that she DID get singled out and put up in a home in a different country to do so, because to her it means job security. Why else would the hotel invest in her and spend all this money on her. As the 2 weeks draw to a close Ariana bumps into Barry again at the beach. She’s been avoiding him a bit to not hurt his feelings and has been camping out near other lifeguard towers today she accidentally picks the one that has Barry in it. She spreads her towel and takes off her skirt before running to the water to sit in the low waves for a bit. When she’s done and gets back to her towel she sees Barry looking at her and she waves at him. “Hey super lifeguard!” She calls him out. He waves back at her. “How’s your neck?” He asks. Ariana shows him her neck which still shows 2 purplish spots, but they look more like bruises now. Barry is pleased with her healing. “You’ll be 100% pretty in a few weeks.” He promises her. “Weeks?” Ariana looks at him. “Yea burn scars take ages to heal completely.” Ariana is very self conscious about the marks and wishes they’d be gone sooner. Barry asks if she will join him on his tower deck and Ariana comes up and sits on the balcony floor with her towel. “I saw you last week, with that woman at the restaurant?” Ariana looks at him neutrally, good she thinks. “That wasn’t nice of you to tease me like that.” He says. She looks at him confused. All she did was prove she really has a girlfriend. “It was just to show you I’m taken.” Barry tells her it ruined his day. Ariana has no answer to that, she can’t fix his feelings. “I’ll go away soon, so you can forget about me.” She mumbles. Barry doesn’t like that either. Ariana gets annoyed and gets up to leave. “Barry, get over yourself, we talked for an hour or so? You’ve been very kind to me. But you can’t expect me to drop everything and fall in love with you.” And she starts walking away. Suddenly she’s tired of being here. Everyday she gets indecent offers, or some decent ones, but everyone seems to lust after the cute girls here. And she hates to be one of the cutest ones in a kilometer radius. She puts on her skirt and folds her towel, ready to disappear from the public and hide in the house. Once again she wishes she was home in her flat, away from the world. She marches to the house and goes tanning in the garden instead of the beach. That afternoon Kate comes back and she needs Ariana. She rings the doorbell for Ariana to let her in and as the door opens she pushes inside and forces herself on Ariana. For Ariana’s recovery they didn’t really have sex for most of their stay as to not exert Ariana and Kate is desperate to get some. Ariana stumbles back from Kate’s assault but soon adapts and gets into it. Kate pushes her to the bedroom and feels like owning her girl today. Tying her wrists to her ankles so she lays on her back with her legs up and her wrists connected to it. Ariana immediately feels helpless and exposed and Kate dives onto her, licking her crotch for all she’s worth. Ariana quickly gets super excited and moans loudly struggling in her bonds. Kate crawls up between her legs and grinds their pussies together for a few moments before crawling up further until her vagina is on Ariana’s mouth. “Do me,” she gasps. “Turn around and do me too,” Ariana moans. Kate complies and they do an awkward 69. Ariana is helpless to stop or touch Kate. Kate controls both their bodies. She pushes and grinds herself on Ariana’s face while licking and fingering her girlfriend. This goes on for a bit until Kate tenses up, she weakly fingers Ariana but is busy with her orgasm that’s rolling over her like a steam train. She smothers Ariana for a bit until Ariana gasps and turns her head away to breathe. “Finish me! Please, finish it.” Ariana begs Kate. Kate picks up the pace and gives Ariana her orgasm. Feeling the girl squirm below her. Kate sucks on Ariana’s wetness to prolong her orgasm and Ariana squirms for a full minute before finally calming down. After a while Kate gets up and heads to the kitchen where she heats up leftover dinner from yesterday. She carries a still bound Ariana to the living room and positions her on the couch. Ariana curiously looks at what she’s doing and says nothing. Kate winks at her and collects the dinner leftovers. Over the next half hour she feeds Ariana rice and chicken while teasing her by sucking on her nipples or pinching them softly keeping Ariana aroused for the duration of her dinner. Ariana never was fed dinner while being kept tied and aroused and likes it. Wishing for another orgasm. She tells Kate she can tie her to the kitchen chair at home if she wants to force feed her sometime again. Kate quietly nods her agreement while rubbing Ariana’s wet pussy. But not letting her cum, just as Ariana starts panting and moaning she stops and lets her simmer in heat. ding-ding ding-ding ding-ding Kate’s phone rings. It’s Dana. Kate rubs Ariana’s pussy with more force, arousing Ariana again. While she takes the call. Ariana wants to protest but Kate puts her finger on her lips indicating she should be quiet. “Hey Dana, how are you? … Right? … We’re fine … no … Miami … no, some training thing for work … Tomorrow afternoon … yes … yes … no, that’s fine.” Ariana moans. Looking desperate at Kate who rubs her rapidly. She’s holding in her orgasm, not wanting Dana to hear it. “What? … oh Ariana is enjoying herself … yea, at the beach while I toil away at school … hahaha … no … no … How’s Sheila? … Oh? … that’s cool … Yea, we should yes … uh-huh … soon yes … I’ll check with her.” Ariana whimpers, and mouths for Kate to hang up with pleading eyes. “Dana wants to go for dinner soon, the 4 of us. Is that ok?” Kate looks Ariana in the eyes, continuously rubbing Ariana’s pussy. Ariana gasps, “mmm yeash, anytiihime…” “Hear that? … No she’s fine, just occupied … right … Yea Thursday is fine … Yea, sure … Say hi to Sheila for us … Right … I will, or wait, say it yourself, here she is.” Kate holds her phone to Ariana’s ear and plunges her fingers in Ariana’s dripping pussy. “Hi Ariana, I’m looking forward to our dinner date. I’d love to see you there.” “Uhm-mee thooo yeaaah.” Ariana confirms with a moan. “What are you doing? You sound out of breath.” Dana asks teasingly. She can guess what the girl is doing. “Ohm, I’hmmm coming!” Ariana gasps, losing her grip on her body and orgasm. Bucking her hips in her bondage. Kate puts the phone back to her ear hearing Dana laugh at the other end. “So uh, Thursday? … yea around 7PM at our place is fine … yea, sorry about that … Yes, she truly is the best, no don’t tell Sheila or anyone … right, thanks … Indeed … haha yea … see you then.” And the women hang up. Ariana tries to kick Kate. “What the fuck!” She pants, breathing heavily. “That’s not OK Kate we talked about that.” “It’s just Dana sweetie, she knows you’re a dirty little slut.” Kate laughs at her. Ariana looks upset, Kate should know better. “I’m no slut!” She pouts. “And please, nobody needs to know about us.” “Dana knows babe, she guessed it ever since you two met.” Kate informs her. Ariana mmpf’s angrily and looks away from Kate. Kate gets up and gets them both a cold drink. Ariana’s with a straw. Ariana greedily drinks and asks if she can go to bed. She’s tired. Kate unties her girlfriend and carries her to bed tucking her in. She kisses her forehead promising she’ll join her soon. Kate checks her emails and finds there are no more classes. That’s odd. But whatever. Happy to be done with that waste of time. They have one day together before they fly home the day after. She joins Ariana in bed and she sweet talks to Ariana till they fall asleep. Ariana is still a bit annoyed that Kate made her cum with Dana on the phone but also found it a powerful orgasm which felt good. 10 - Going home The next day they go to the beach again in the morning. When the sun gets higher they visit one of the bigger shopping malls and look for souvenirs or clothes or stuff to bring home. Kate suggests they buy something nice for Dana and Sheila. They look around but don’t really know what to get. Thinking that a box of sweets or chocolates is so generic. Ariana thinks of fancy gym outfits, but Kate isn’t sure on their sizes. Maybe they can figure something out during their dinner and get them something after. Ariana agrees. They get lost in the endless luxuries of Miami tourism and are a bit overwhelmed with all the outlandish activities and clubs available to them. Thinking it’s all too excessive. Ariana spots a wine bar and suggests they try that since they both like wine. Sitting down at a table Kate orders a glass of her favorite wine. Ariana doesn’t really care, she just feels like drinking alcohol to try and get rid of her middle-class feeling in all these luxuries. “Just follow my lead then.” Kate suggests and orders 2 of each every time their glasses are empty. Ariana thinks Kate is so good with wine. Always picking the nice ones. They waste the afternoon away drinking fancy wines and eating little snacks along with it. They drink and party into the evening racking up a huge bill in wine, snacks and beers. The next day Kate wakes up with a start in their bed, not sure how they got back but both of them are here. Their plane leaves in a few hours. Groggily she gets up and washes her face. Letting Ariana sleep for now. She packs their things, stuffing all clothes into the suitcase. Scanning over the house to see if she has everything. She then wakes Ariana. “Morning sweetie…” Kate sweetly says. “Mmmmgoawayiwannasleep” Ariana moans with a hangover. “You can sleep at home babe. Our plane leaves soon.” Ariana opens her eyes and is met with a headache and a cute smile from Kate. “Is there time for aspirin? My head hurts.” Kate assures her there is plenty of time. And invites her for a shower together. She prepares 2 Tylenol and a glass of water for Ariana. “Here, take these.” Ariana downs the pills and the glass of water and wanders to the bathroom on auto-pilot. Kate follows her a moment later bringing the last of their towels. She had noticed that over the 2 weeks slowly the towels got less and less and she doesn’t know why. They started with 8, now they only have 2. She hates the house and doesn’t want to think about who or what is stealing towels. A much better choice is to shower with Ariana. That afternoon they fly home and Kate asks Ariana to go find their suitcase while she goes to find her car in the parking lot. They’ll meet next to the taxis. Kate looks for the parking shuttle and finds her car. Turning up the heater she drives it back to the terminal where she spots her beauty from afar. Fuck she’s gorgeous, even in her puffy winter clothes. She hopes Ariana thinks the same of her sometimes. She motions for Ariana to get in and warm herself as she loads the suitcase into the back seat and off they go. “It’s busy huh?” Kate makes some smalltalk. “Yeah, too much.” Ariana leans her head on Kate’s shoulder. “I’m glad we’re home, I didn’t like that house at all.” “Especially the garage was shit eh?” Kate carefully asks with a glance at Ariana. Ariana visibly tenses up and says nothing. Her trauma is still fresh in her mind. She didn’t tell Kate but she has nightmares every time she closes her eyes from her ordeal. It’s getting tiresome. Kate rushes them home and parks the car in their parking garage. Skipping to the elevator eager to get home the women are stopped by the concierge. “There you are.” He calls out, “About the rent… The realtor says they can do it for $700 for the first 2 years, $900 afterwards, but on a 4 year contract minimum.” Kate laughs, “hah that sounds good. Thanks so much for asking.” “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you for 10 days to tell you.” “We were in Miami for work.” Kate tells him. “Oh right, did you have fun miss? It’s beautiful down there I hear.” He looks at Ariana. Ariana says nothing and looks at her feet. Then slowly nods. “It was alright, but Ariana had a bit of an accident. So mixed feelings.” Kate hastily interjects. She squeezes Ariana’s shoulder to indicate to move ahead. “Thanks again, we’ll catch up soon ok? We’re really tired now. Flying, airports…” She pulls a face. They wait for the elevator and the concierge continues his rounds. “What’s that about rent? Don’t you own the place?” Ariana whispers. “Dana and Sheila maybe want to move in together and this’ll be cheaper for them.” “Oh. That’s very close-by…” Ariana mutters. Fearing a lot of social calls incoming. “Yea, I don’t know about that… But we’ll see what happens right? We’ll have to set our boundaries.” Kate says. Ariana nods. “Slow elevator.” She mumbles. A few minutes later the elevator finally arrives and a group of people they never saw before come out. Ariana pushes inside as the last person is about to get out. The man is about to say something about manners but sees Kate shake her head and keeps quiet, seeing her mouth ‘sorry’. Kate feels Ariana needs to be alone, or at least home and in her bubble. Just the 2 of them. Kate helps her girlfriend into their flat and offers a drink. Ariana shakes her head and heads straight for bed. “Let me know if you need anything ok? Just call out.” “Ok, thanks!” Ariana smiles at Kate. Kate ‘activates’ the flat. Plugging in the wifi, the TV, and checking the fridge for spoiled stuff. She opens a few windows to air the place out. MMM, she thinks, looking at the excellent view while feeling the cold air. 10 minutes later she quickly shuts the windows and turns up the heat. She unpacks their clothes trying not to disturb Ariana. Then she takes a shower and loves the strong hot water. Much better than the weak flow they had in Miami. She loves her rain shower. Smiling at her reflection. Happy to be home. When she’s done she looks at Ariana and kneels next to the bed at her head. She looks peaceful but stressed as well. Kate cups her cheek and softly strokes her thumb over Ariana’s lips. As usual she opens her mouth and sucks on the thumb. So cute, Kate thinks. Carefully removing her hand and placing a kiss on her forehead. She heads into the living room and calls Dana. “Hey girl, I have some good news. I think.” “Yes?” Dana cautiously replies. “Well, 2 things… really. First, the most important. We’re hoohoome.” Kate laughs. She can feel Dana roll her eyes at the other end. She hates being stalled like this. “But really, remember the apartment? Both units on the 4th are free. And you can have one for $700 a month for the first 2 years then $900 for the other 2 years and ongoing if you like.” “Whoa, that’s not bad. Can we take a look tomorrow?” “We’ll find the concierge when you’re here.” Kate confirms. “You have a concierge? Geez you’re so fancy.” “You soon too Dana, he takes care of the whole tower.” “Oh right…” A short silence. “I’M GONNA BE FANCY TOO!” Dana calls out. “Hey about our call the other day. What was that about? Ariana didn’t sound too healthy.” “Yea sorry about that. I uh, had her tied up and was masturbating her. I kinda expected her to be able to hold her orgasm.” She hushes to Dana. “Oh right… Well I was surprised that’s all.” “Please don’t mention it tomorrow, Ariana doesn’t like other people involved or even knowing about our games. She’s still upset about it and she has enough on her plate for now.” “Ooohh?” Dana sounds curious. Kate summarizes Ariana’s accident without going into details and how she’s been a bit traumatized because of it. Mostly just tired and weakened. But certainly she has developed a fear of garages and collars. “That’s terrible Kate, really. She was doing so well.” Dana knows bits and pieces of Ariana’s history with abusive boyfriends. “Yeah… It’s a huge setback for her I’m sure.” Kate sounds sad. “We’ll give her a good time tomorrow then, right?” “Yea just be nice and sociable, she needs a friendly and carefree atmosphere the most I think.” Kate assures Dana. “Right. I’ll instruct Sheila.” Dana promises. “Tell Sheila about the apartment, I think it’s a great deal… And you can be living together in no time.” Dana assures her she will and sounds excited. Kate adds, “I’ll help you move, just let me know if you need help.” “Thanks Kate, really really thanks. I’ll let you know.” They hang up. “Who needs a friendly atmosphere?” She hears behind her. Kate looks over her shoulder. “Oh, hey. How do you feel?” “Thirsty… You were talking about me?” Ariana says suspicious. “Indeed. I talked to Dana about the apartment and tomorrow night. And told her you needed a carefree and fun evening.” Ariana hugs Kate. “I mostly just need time for myself and with you, here, with nobody else.” “I know babe, go back to bed and rest up. What do you want to drink?” “Some pineapple juice.” “Coming right up honey… just a minute.” She guides Ariana back to bed and tucks her in. Kate gets a big glass of juice and sets it next to Ariana on the bed side table. Ariana is already snoozing again. Kate always wonders how someone can sleep as much as Ariana does. Considering she’s very sensitive to her surroundings and people and that it probably takes a lot of energy. Still… 12 hours of sleep per day is the norm pretty much. It’s nuts. Kate thinks. She heads downstairs to find the concierge and asks for the keys for the units on the 4th floor. They’ll take a look at them tomorrow night with her friends. She gets the spare keys for unit 4a and chats with the man for a few minutes about the Miami trip. He tells her he’s been there in the 70’s once. Kate laughs she wasn’t even born then and heads back upstairs. The next day Ariana feels much more lively. She’s sitting in the kitchen enjoying a drink. And enjoying her familiar surroundings. Enjoying she’s alone. Enjoying there are no men chasing her down to the beach. And many more small enjoyments. She sits grinning at the table thinking about it. Kate walks in rushing for work “Hey, good morning, you’re up early?” She stops and sees Ariana’s grin. “What’s funny?” “Here is funny. I love living here, it makes me happy.” “Oh, right. Of-course, we have the best flat.” Kate laughs at her. “Yes, but also because you’re here Kate…” Ariana breathes. Kate looks at her funny, not sure what to say. “Thanks…” She mutters. “You do the same for me in this place.” Then more confident, “I have to run. I’m late for work. I’m going to collect my useless certificate.” “Congratulations!” Ariana laughs. They kiss goodbye and Kate runs out the door. Ariana sits in glorious silence for almost 20 minutes before moving. She crawls in the lower end of their closet and digs up the box that holds her dildo and butt plugs. She looks longingly at the dildo, briefly thinking about Barry’s impressive torso. But resists the urge for a penis inside her and puts the box back after a minute. Can’t betray Kate, she thinks. She then grabs her collar and holds it to her neck, feeling nervous and scared. Sitting on the floor with the collar pressed against her throat she can’t bring herself to close it around her neck. Shivering in her nakedness. Ariana sighs and gets dressed. Panties, leggings and a sweatshirt. Nice and simple. She plays with her new MacBook really enjoying the new system. The screen is especially nice, it has such nice colors and high resolution. Browsing her job profiles she doesn’t see any job’s she likes to do today… Kate comes home in the afternoon showing her certificate. “Look, I’m a certified something now.” Ariana reads the title ‘Certificate of acknowledgment’. “What does that mean?” “I have no idea, but it sounds useless. And my boss said it’s all good. No more training.” Ariana looks relieved, they can stay home forever, she hopes. “Don’t forget our dinner date Ariana.” Kate reminds her. “I’ll freshen up.” Ariana had thought about the date all afternoon, how she would face Dana after the phone call. 11 - Dinner date Around 6PM Sheila sends a message to Ariana, letting her know they’ll be on their way soon. Ariana gets up and lures Kate to their closet so they can get dressed for the night. Kate wants to mimic Ariana’s look a bit, trying to remember what Ariana wore on a previous dinner date. Some skirt? Or was it a dress? Her black minidress and sneakers. She remembers now. Kate finds the dress and puts it on. Yep, that’s it, she thinks. “Can you braid my hair like you do for yourself? Hanging over the shoulder?” Kate asks Ariana. Ariana giggles, “Copying me huh?” “Maybe a little… It’s a good look.” Kate admits. Ariana decides on a sand color cotton pair of pants. Tight around her butt, casually loose on the legs. Sneakers and a fitted black cotton shirt. She braids both their hair the same way. But Kate’s braid over her right shoulder and hers over the left. “How’s that?” Ariana asks. Kate admires both of them, “That’s very nice.” She compliments Ariana and notices Ariana her burn marks are showing a bit but decides not to mention it. She wants a confident girlfriend today! Kate and Ariana head down to the 4th floor, and Kate asks if she can collect their friends. Ariana flatly agrees and heads down to the ground floor. Sitting in the lobby for a few minutes waiting for the women. She spots Sheila first who basically wears Kate’s outfit but in pink. It looks good on her. Dana is a bit less obvious, wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. Both women wear matching converse shoes. Ariana lets them in and Sheila hugs Ariana tightly whispering she missed her. Dana kisses Ariana on both cheeks saying she looks good, with a knowing wink. Ariana is not sure what that means but she invites them up. Kate meanwhile looks around the flat on the 4th. It’s not nearly as nice as hers… She’s disappointed with how it looks. The elevator arrives and delivers 3 women. Dana marches up to Kate, “’Sup, neighbor?” And briefly hugs her. “The place looks a bit worn down,” Kate softly says. “Less nice than I expected. But hide your disappointment, I’ll help you fix it up if you take it.” She really wants Dana’s life to improve for the better. Remembering how crap her current flat is. The 4 women enter the apartment and are met by off-white walls with scuff marks all along the floor. Sheila looks curiously around and sees it’s basically Kate’s apartment in terms of the floor plan, but less nice. “It needs a lot of work I think.” Sheila suggests. Dana is a bit taken aback too. This is not what she imagined. Ariana thinks that with a coat of paint it’ll be fine but otherwise she doesn’t say much. Avoiding Dana she focuses more on Sheila and Kate. Sheila seems to have taken a special liking to Ariana today, she’s constantly near her. Trying to make jokes and otherwise getting Ariana’s attention. Ariana likes her dress. She loves pink. Sheila and Ariana find themselves in the kitchen while Kate and Dana look at the other rooms and talk about painting walls and internet bills. Sheila puts her hand on Arianas neck, who flinches and pulls away. She’s super sensitive about anything touching her neck. Sheila, who has no idea about what happened tries to pull Ariana closer. Ariana lets herself be captured in Sheila’s embrace but squirms to avoid her friend’s hand in her neck. Looking very uncomfortable. Sheila whispers to Ariana she looks extra nice today. She leans in and slowly kisses Ariana’s cheek. “Sheila, no. Stop it.” She whispers. Ariana struggles free and the 2 women face off from each other for a moment before Sheila lights up. “Just playing around,” She whispers with a smile. “Dana said we should be extra nice to you.” Ariana looks uncertain at Sheila unsure what to think. “That’s fine, but let’s not betray them.” They stand there looking around as Dana walks in. “What do you think?” She asks Sheila. “It’s nice,” Sheila says. “But it needs lots of work.” “Right, but we can do that bit by bit. Fix it room by room.” Dana says, repeating what Kate had said to her moments before. The two talk a bit about when their current rents end and decide they should move soon. Especially Dana pushes ahead as she wants Sheila for herself 24/7 just like Kate has Ariana. Sheila doesn’t mind. Kate and Dana go find the concierge to tell the good news and leave Ariana and Sheila alone on the 4th floor. Ariana motions to the bathroom. “You should put in a rain shower. It’s so nice.” Sheila pictures herself under it and smiles. “And…” Ariana continues, “You should use this as the bedroom. Look what a big closet you can fit in here.” Sheila follows Ariana around nodding at her suggestions and ideas. Admiring Ariana’s figure. Suddenly she has an urge to touch her. Feel her. Ariana is in home-design mode now and ideas flood into her head, she notices Sheila constantly looking at her face and butt and not paying attention to her suggestions, but she tries to ignore it. A few minutes later Kate comes to get the women and hears Ariana talk non-stop about fixing this, painting that, putting the couch there, and the kitchen x and y. She also notices Sheila following her with a lustful look on her face. “Hey girls,” she interrupts. “Ready to go for dinner?” Ariana stops talking and practically jumps at Kate. Clinging to her arm. They head down and Ariana is inseparable from Kate to prevent Sheila from coming on to her. Finding Dana downstairs Dana tells Sheila she reserved the apartment for a week so they can talk to their current landlords about canceling and planning a move. Once both have that in order they can properly rent the place. Sheila nods. And mumbles, “No more garden… Dana. No plants.” Dana thought of that and already asked if they could put plants on the balcony which was fine for flower pots and small plants. “Ah, that’s alright.” Sheila agrees. Ariana thinks she should get a plant on the balcony too. She never considered that. The taxi comes, the 4 pile in and they speed off to a steak and grill house on the other side of town. Dana sits up front, Kate, Ariana and Sheila are squished in the back with Ariana sitting in the middle. Kate wraps her arm around her girl’s shoulder and holds her close. Sheila feels Ariana’s warmth and enjoys the feeling, leaning in slightly. Causing Ariana to shift uncomfortably. At the restaurant they’re escorted to their table. Sheila’s bright colored dress gets a disapproving look from the waiter. While it’s a nice and normal dress. The color makes it look a bit tacky and cheap. Suddenly self conscious Sheila wonders what’s wrong with her or her outfit to warrant such a look. Both couples sit down and inspect the menu. After a few minutes Kate and Ariana decide to share a massive Cowboy steak with fries and salad. Dana and Sheila realize they can’t really afford the place and settle for a more simple Sirloin and T-bone steak with mashed potato. Kate suggests it’s her treat, but Dana doesn’t want to hear it. Kate insists on buying their drinks instead, and orders a nice bottle of wine and a beer for Sheila. The drinks arrive and the women chit chat about their trip, the past weeks in their life. And all kinds of stuff. Ariana avoids talking to Dana as she feels shy about her phone orgasm and Kate and Ariana also avoid talking about Ariana’s accident with the collar. The food arrives and Kate dives in, slicing bites of the steak for both of them. Kate carefully feeds Ariana who sits there with her hands on her lap pretending she can’t move and is dependent on Kate. Dana notices Ariana is in her own world and smirks. Kate really enjoys their dinner and steals glances at Sheila to see if she’s paying special attention towards Ariana like she did in the apartment. But she talks just like the rest of them and all seems normal. When Dana comes back from the restroom she sees the 2 big purple marks in Ariana’s neck and looks startled at how big they are. Whoa, she thinks. That must’ve hurt to have that going on for hours. She had assumed it would be 2 small dots that had faded by now. Sitting down she can’t help herself and quietly asks Ariana if her neck is ok. Ariana visibly tenses up at the memory and says she’s fine. “Kate told me a little of what happened.” She whispers so the others can’t hear. “If you ever want to talk and vent, or need medication, call me. Remember, I’m almost a psychiatrist and my girl works in a pharmacy.” Ariana nods, not wanting their help. “I’ll be fine, thanks.” Dana looks at her with a worried look. Finishing dinner Ariana heads to the restroom and a moment later Sheila follows her. Kate and Dana sit enjoying the taste of the steaks and wine and look at each other. “So what’s up with Sheila?” Kate asks. “Huh?” “She’s been eyeing up Ariana all evening, did you tell her to come on to her?” “No, she knows nothing of recent events.” “Riiight, then why is she so interested in her all of the sudden?” “I don’t know, I’ll keep an eye on it.” Dana says. In the restrooms Ariana looks in the mirror fixing up her hair and admires her outfit. She looks so casually official. It’s sexy, she thinks. She gingerly touches her neck. The burns itch. Carefully rubbing her neck to make it stop. Sheila walks past and strokes her hand over the small of Ariana’s back as she does before entering a toilet stall. Lost in her thoughts Ariana goes to the toilet as well and the women come out at the same time. Bumping into each other. “Oh, ouch, sorry.” Ariana yelps. Sheila grabs Ariana for balance and in one motion pulls her close. And whispers begging, “Please please, help me out. I’m so horny, Dana won’t let me orgasm.” Ariana looks at Sheila “So do it yourself…” “I can’t, look.” She pulls Ariana into a toilet stall and lifts her dress up a bit, exposing a discrete chastity belt. Ariana looks wide eyed at the thing. “How long has that been on you?” “Almost a week. I’m going insane!” Sheila looks at her friend with lust in her eyes. Ariana steps back unsure what to do or think about it. “Sheila, please, talk to Dana if it’s bothering you. I can’t help you.” She then thinks for a second and says “Use a spatula. Figure it out. I did, it works wonders.” And starts to turn. She wants nothing to do with it. “Kate does it to you?” Sheila asks. Wondering if the 2 are plotting against their girlfriends. “No, just once. But the spatula works. Try it.” Ariana heads back to Kate, stupid Sheila she thinks. Trying to seduce me for her own purposes. What was she thinking? She sits next to Kate and wishes they could go home. Kate looks at her with a smile. “Hey, there you are. Missed you!” “My neck itches again.” Ariana complains. Kate looks at her neck and thinks the marks are getting more red. “I’ll get some ice, wait here.” She gets up and heads to the bar. Asking for a bag of ice or something cold. Dana looks at her with pity. “Poor thing. How long will it take to heal?” “2 weeks so far and it’s not getting better since a week or so.” Ariana looks sad. “I read it can take months to go fully invisible.” She sighs. “I’m so fucking stupid for Kate.” “What do you mean?” Dana asks curiously what Kate has to do with it. “We had this stupid house with a dog kennel and I locked myself in it by accident and Kate seemed to enjoy that. So when she went to school I did it again. I just wanted to play to be her doggie when she got back but the collar…” Ariana starts crying and rushes out of the restaurant. “Kate!” Dana yells out to her friend. Pointing at Ariana. Kate sees Ariana rush out and looks puzzled. “Go get her, memories…” Dana calls out across the space. A few guests look disturbed at the girls wondering what’s happening. Fuck! Kate thinks and rushes after Ariana with the ice-bag the barman had prepared. She finds Ariana outside taking heaving breaths leaning her hands on her knees. “Ariana! Hey, you’re ok?” Kate hunkers down at her head. Looking at her girlfriend. “Take me home please.” Ariana mutters with tears in her eyes. “Hey now, what’s wrong sweetie. Come sit.” She motions at a nearby bench. The pair moves to the bench and Ariana sits on Kate’s lap so that Kate can hold her firmly. “Come, tell me what happened. Did Dana say something?” Kate moves Ariana’s hair aside and carefully puts the ice on the burns. “How does that feel?” “Mmm cold. That feels good.” Ariana mumbles. “Tell me, what happened.” “Dana asked how long it takes to heal and I told her it’s too long and the memory hurts. So I cried. And Sheila keeps coming on to me because she’s locked in a chastity belt by Dana and she wants to fuck every time we’re alone and now my neck itches and hurts and I’m fucking ugly now. I have nightmares every night. And before, I tried my collar at home and it’s scary and I can’t fucking take it anymore.” Ariana takes a deep heaving breath from her rambling. Kate doesn’t understand half of what Ariana says but she holds her girl closely in a tight hug. Whispering sweet words to her trying to calm her down, promising to put Sheila in her place and assuring her she’s not ugly. After a few minutes she manages to make Ariana smile. And again a few minutes later she has Ariana convinced they should go back inside and have a drink and finish the evening on a positive note. “How’s your neck now? Feeling better?” “A little, it still itches.” Ariana sniffles. “Good, come, let’s get back inside. Have some wine, get drunk.” Kate invites her. Ariana giggles through her tears at the idea. She should get super drunk. Arm in arm they head back inside. Kate waves away the worried waiter and mouths they’re ok. When they arrive at their table Kate sits Ariana down with the utmost care and decides it’s time to rip their dates a new one. Quietly. She looks at Sheila and bluntly says “Stop trying to fuck my girlfriend or I’ll have you arrested for sexual harassment.” She then turns to Dana, “And you, control your slut of a friend or I never want to see either of you again.” She’s not overly serious, but what the hell. Bothering Ariana and making her cry over their stupid games… That’s unacceptable. She then focuses on the menu to pick out a wine for her and Ariana. “Do you like this one? Shall we try it?” She casually asks her like nothing happened. Ariana is amazed by her girlfriend’s words. Clinging to her arm. And after a moment of thinking says she wants a fruity flavor. Kate has her back and orders 2 double glasses of a sweet wine she thinks Ariana will like. Dana and Sheila stare at Kate in disbelief of what she just said. Then Dana looks at Sheila with a frown but says nothing. Sheila looks guilty and upset at the same time. Then Dana whispers something at Sheila who gets up and leaves the restaurant without a word. Dana turns to Kate and apologizes for Sheila’s behavior. “She’s probably just frustrated…” she quietly says. “I don’t care.” Kate sneers. “Control her or stay away from us. We don’t bother you with our games either. Not like this.” She adds. Dana nods. Bends down to Ariana and whispers she’s sorry and she’ll make it right to her sometime. Then to Kate, “Sorry girl. Really. I didn’t think Sheila would be like this. If you’ll have us I’d like to meet some time later after I dealt with her and make it up to you guys.” “Sounds good to me.” Kate says, “Call me anytime. Not Ariana, me!” Setting some boundaries for the woman. Dana nods, “I better go now. Sorry for being a bother to Ariana. I’ll be in touch soon.” Kate nods and assures her she’ll help with the move if she needs it. Implying their friendship is not really in danger. “Shall we move to the bar?” Kate whispers, “leave this mess behind?” gesturing at the table. Ariana nods in awe of her amazing girlfriend. Kate signals to the waiter, he guides them to a somewhat secluded spot at the bar and waves for the barman to take extra care of the women. Seeing the women are going through something, he informs Kate the first round is on him. Kate thanks him for his kindness and they wait for their wine. Ariana leans into Kate, “Thanks for that.” She beams at her heroine. “That stupid Sheila, she’s been after me the whole time.” “Next time tell me immediately sweetie. You know I have your back.” Kate playfully tickles Ariana a bit, breaking the tension. “Want some sausage slices?” Ariana asks, “Look, they have salami and stuff.” “That’ll be nice, sure. Pick anything you like.” Ariana orders a cold plate with a variety of meats for them. Several glasses of wine later Ariana forgot about her woes for the moment and they have a good time laughing and playing at the bar. Until finally the waiter comes up informing them they’re the only guests left and the restaurant is about to close for the night. “Huh? What time is it?” “Almost 10PM ma’m, I can recommend the nightclub down the street if you wish to continue your evening.” “No, that’s fine. Please prepare for our exit and we need a cab.” Kate drawls “Certainly, one moment.” He winks at Ariana and they smile at Kate’s drunkenness. “I feel like taking a long shower.” Kate babbles to no one in particular. Ariana agrees and feels she needs to steer Kate home before she falls over from the many glasses of wine she had. Back home Ariana feels like pleasing Kate but it’s no use. Kate is too drunk and tired to respond properly to her advances. Ariana has an idea though, she steps into her chastity belt and straps it on tight. Locking it with the padlock. She writes a little note to Kate that she can unlock her when she’s no longer drunk… Or any later date she chooses and sticks the note on Kate’s phone. Ariana ends up in the belt for almost 2 weeks, only let out two or three times a day for toilet breaks or a wash supervised by Kate. By the end of it she is so worked up in her horniness that even her spatula can’t save her anymore and she begs for Kate to let her out. Kate makes her beg for 2 more days before finally releasing her girlfriend. 12 - Kate has a silly idea Meanwhile Dana and Kate had worked out a bunch of details for the move. Dana doesn’t know how to make up for Sheila’s misbehavior like she promised so instead just apologizes to them every chance she gets and assures them Sheila will behave better next time they meet. A few weeks pass and Kate is invited by Dana to help coordinate the move in the new flat. Dana has arranged for a friend to drive his van back and forth where they first ship Dana her belongings to the flat and then Sheila’s things. Kate is to accept their stuff in the flat and coordinate boxes and furniture and such. The day before the move Dana delivers the keys to Kate and that night Kate and Ariana go take a look at the flat to see if it’s ready to move in. They’re surprised to see the place has been painted front to back with nice earthy colors. The floor looks scrubbed and there are even some curtains hanging in the living room already. “That looks nice,” Ariana says. “Yep, very nice.” Kate agrees. Exploring the flat they find the kitchen in working order, it just needs to be filled with kitchen utensils and machines and it’ll be done. “Very different from when I moved in.” Kate says. “I sat on concrete for the first few weeks before I could finally afford a floor and a couch.” “Yea me too, just the couch and a bed. And everything else got added over time.” The women look at each other and laugh at their similarities. “So do you want to help tomorrow?” Kate asks, “Or do you have work?” “No, I can help. It’ll be fun poking through their crap.” Kate laughs at Ariana for her nosiness. And thinks a lot of it will indeed be crap, as the 2 women are rather poor at the moment. “Oh but we’re not nosy, we’re just unpacking.” She laughs at Ariana in a mocking tone as if she’s talking to Dana or something. “Yes, it’s easy and helpful…” Ariana laughs back. Kate has an idea… “Let’s make fun of them by sitting naked on everything we can.” Ariana laughs out loud and slips her shorts down. Pressing her butt against a door. “Like that?” “Yea, let’s sit on the kitchen countertop and every floor too.” Kate instructs them. Ariana runs giggling ahead and jumps up on the countertop, wiggling around on it with her naked butt. Kate sits next to her. And leans in for a kiss which is greedily answered. For the next 30 or so minutes they sit on the floor of every room scooting around like kids, finally ending up in the hallway next to where Ariana dropped her shorts. She kisses Kate and touches and gropes at her breasts, Kate strokes her girlfriend’s wet vagina. Kate fingers Ariana wildly until she tenses up and orgasms with a loud moan. Then she quickly rubs herself to orgasm and shudders quietly, panting from her exertions. Ariana lays sprawled over the floor looking at Kate who’s leaning on her elbow next to her, they whisper sweet words at each other caressing their faces or breasts. A soft clunking sound as the elevator stops on the floor and a crrrk from a key being slid into the lock. Startled, the women scramble and run into the bedroom with their clothes. And shimmy in whatever clothes they’re holding. Kate wears Ariana’s shorts and her mismatched shirt. Ariana has Kate’s leggings on backwards and her own tank top. “So you think this’ll be the bedroom?” She asks Kate. “Yea probably,” She says as they walk out the door, seeing Dana in the hallway. “Oh, hey Dana.” Ariana waves at her. “I like your colors.” She points at the walls. Dana looks at them suspiciously. “What are you doing here?” Kate says. “We were curious if you guys fixed up the place and it looks great.” “Mmhm” Dana says, carrying a bedroll and some items. “You’re sleeping here tonight?” Kate asks, noticing the bedroll. “No Sheila is. She’ll be here soon. But I didn’t expect you guys to intrude.” Kate gets the hint and shoo’s Ariana to the door. “Come dear, let the girls have their home.” Kate ushers Ariana out the door. “We’re still on for 10AM?” She looks at Dana. Dana nods, eyeing them, wondering where they had sex in her flat. They look messed up and look like she caught them mid-something. “10AM yes.” She says. “See you tomorrow then.” Kate says goodbye. They quickly go up to the 12th floor laughing at their little stunt-gone-almost-wrong. “Look how suspicious she looked.” Ariana laughs. Kate nods, “We’re terrible liars.” Still laughing they enter their home and go for a shower. Minutes later a sad looking Sheila enters her future home. Dana is already waiting for her. The bedroll spread out on the floor. “Get naked and get in the bed.” She commands Sheila. Sheila knows what to do, she’s had to do it every night for the last 14 days, or was it 20… She lost count. She learned the hard way to not argue with Dana and simply undresses and gets in the bedroll with her arms and head outside it. Dana zips it up and wraps lashing straps around it. 1 around her ankles, another at her knees. One more on her hips and one around her belly trapping her arms to her side. One below and above her elbows and finally one around her neck sealing the bedroll mostly shut. Dana then ties the ankle strap to the radiator pipe on one end of the room and the neck strap with 2 ropes, one heading left to another radiator and another to the right into the hallway and attached to the radiator pipe there. Finally Dana pulls the strap between her ankles and the radiator tight so she can’t move. Sheila is absolutely stuck. Dana kisses her on her forehead and sits next to her. Pulling out a vibrator and theatrically masturbates herself to several orgasms. Plunging the vibrator deep inside her, making a big show of her enjoyment and saying she doesn’t need Sheila to do it for her. Sheila looks at her mean girlfriend desperate for her own orgasm as she didn’t have one for over 4 weeks now. Always locked in her chastity and tied up in her new flat at night for the last few weeks. She thought the empty barren flat was scary at night, at first. Strange sounds from time to time seemed to creep out of the walls. Other nights she’d imagine Dana would never come back as she had no idea of time other than the sun eventually coming up. She feels miserable, worn out, and she is tired of this punishment routine. And for what, she fumes, for being flirty with Ariana that night and trying to insert a spatula under her belt? Fucking hell. She thinks. So unfair. Dana had berated her for her behavior most days since she was called out by Kate at the restaurant. And when Dana caught her with a spatula it had only made things worse. Meanwhile Dana is done making Sheila feel useless and obsolete and leaves the flat without another word. Like she did most nights. She takes the woman’s clothes with her leaving no trace of her being there other than the tied up woman in there. Sheila wonders when her punishment will end. Waiting for the elevator Dana sends a message to Kate to not enter the flat before 8AM as Sheila will be in there tied up with her duties for the night. An odd choice of words. But it’ll have to do, she thinks. ‘OK, let me know when the coast is clear.’ comes the reply a few minutes later. Dana comes home in her packed up apartment and looks around at the stacks of boxes and wrapped furniture. Sheila’s place doesn’t look much better except most of her furniture stays behind. Dana’s kitchen table is broken, and Sheila her table isn’t but for the most part it’s Dana’s furniture that’s being moved. Sheila had whined about her punishment for the first week or so and Dana felt bad for being so harsh. But the girl needed to know her place. Fucking around behind her back is not acceptable she thinks. She chose Dana a few years ago, Sheila doesn’t get to choose again. And who knows how many people she cozied up to for her relief. She didn’t want to know but Sheila would pay for it regardless. Kate is busy strapping Ariana in her chastity belt as Dana’s message arrives. With a wondrous look she shows the message to Ariana and wonders what Dana meant with ’tied up with her duties’. Ariana suggests they go take a look and ask Sheila but Kate says they’d better not. “What if she’s actually tied up… " Ariana giggles, “If she is we can get our revenge for what she did that night in the restaurant.” Kate shakes her head and tells Ariana to not go there before 8AM. She strokes and tickles Ariana, distracting her while she sneakily slips the remote vibrator in her pussy and locks the belt. “Fine” Ariana obeys. “I’ll go to bed then, busy day tomorrow?” “Yep, let’s sleep.” Ariana asks timidly, “You’ll let me out tomorrow, right? Not like last time and I’m in this thing for 2 weeks?” Gesturing at her belt. “If you’re good tomorrow I’ll let you out in the evening.” Kate promises her with a kiss on her forehead. They head for bed and Ariana dreams of tickling and slapping Sheila to insanity as she is tied up 8 floors below her. 13 - Moving day Dana enters the flat at around 7AM and finds Sheila where she left her. Sheila immediately notices Dana didn’t bring anything, no bag. She looks quietly at Dana not saying anything. She had given up talking to her a few days ago. Dana either told her to shut up as sluts don’t get to talk to her, or ignored her. She releases Sheila and tells her to stand up straight. “Today is the last day of your punishment.” Dana announces with a smile. Sheila perks up. “Dana, really? Finally! Thank you, thank you!” She sounds so relieved that it’s almost pathetic Dana thinks. “Don’t thank me yet, the day isn’t over. But if you make it through today you can thank me tonight.” Sheila shuts up and looks at her suspiciously. “Come, pet.” Dana says and shoos her to the meter cabinet in the hallway. She opens the door and reveals its insides. A tiny ceiling height cabinet with the electric and water meter in it. When fixing up the apartment she had discovered that the electric cable for the flats above theirs runs through the cabinet in a thick steel pipe, and that the pipe is raised a few centimeters from the wall. She motions Sheila into the cabinet with her back against the pipe. “What are you doing?” Sheila nervously asks. “Don’t think and just do as I say, stupid.” Dana says sternly. Sheila quickly obeys without a second thought. Dana uses all the straps from the night before to strap her upright to the steel pipe. A strap around her ankles, knees, hips, below and above her breasts. And finally one around her neck and forehead. Of-course her arms are trapped under the straps as well, with an extra loop around her wrists so she can’t wiggle free. After pulling every strap extra tight Sheila can’t move a muscle. “There, now be quiet and wait for me till I get back.” With those words she closes the door and locks the cabinet. Sheila stands in the dark wondering what the fuck is going on now. She’s unsure of the time, but it was light out. Shouldn’t the movers come soon? What if they discover her. But the door is locked. She makes a worried sound and shifts her eyes around looking at the little light creeping in around the door. She’ll be discovered for sure. Sweating in fear for the day ahead. Dana meanwhile messages Kate the apartment is ready for the move, and thinks the first load will be delivered around 10:30. She then heads to her house to meet her friend with his van. ‘I’ll be ready soon, don’t you worry about a thing!’ Comes Kate her reply. “Ariana, the mover is coming soon Dana says, are you ready?” Kate calls her girlfriend. “Yes boss!” Comes Ariana’s clear voice. She has prepared some drinks to bring down. And she’s eager to see what kind of stuff the 2 women will bring. Heading down they find the apartment empty. The only change they see is a coiled rope and a bedroll in the living room and a damp spot on the floor. “Looks like they had kinky sex.” Kate says pointing at the rope and damp spot. Ariana giggles. “But where is everything? Where is Sheila?” She had expected her to be there. Kate realizes they haven’t seen or heard from Sheila in weeks. bzzzt bzzzt bzzzt The intercom sounds. Ariana picks up the phone. “Hello?” “Hello! I’m here to deliver the first load from Dana.” “Come on up, 4th floor.” Ariana calls out and presses the button. A few minutes later a man appears with a cabinet in his arms. “Hey girls, can one of you come down and open the door as I carry stuff?” “Sure,” Kate responds. “You stay here and carry the items from the hallway to where they should go ok?” Ariana nods. Kate blocks the door from closing, accidentally banging it against the meter cabinet. Scaring Sheila who’s trying to stay silent inside. She lets out a small yelp from the noise. Luckily nobody hears it, and Kate and the man disappear downstairs. Right as Kate steps into the elevator she activates Ariana’s remote vibrator on the lowest setting. Ariana feels the vibrator spring to life and clutches her crotch. “Nonononono!” She panicky calls out and paces around the living room clutching her crotch, feeling upset at Kate that she again managed to insert the vibrator without her noticing. “What’s your name?” The mover asks Kate. “Kate.” Kate says, “She’s Ariana.” “Ah cool, Nice to meet you. So you’re the reason for Sheila’s punishment huh?” “Punishment?” Kate asks curiously. “Yea didn’t Dana mention it? She’s turned on Sheila and has her under tight control since you caught her fucking around with, I guess, Ariana. Or something.” “Ehh ok…” Kate says surprised. “I didn’t know that.” “Well, I’m not sure what’s going on but Sheila is a changed woman… Much more submissive and docile when I saw her a few days ago.” Uh oh, Kate thinks frowning. “You don’t approve?” The man says seeing her frown. “Ehh, I don’t know. Sheila didn’t screw around though.” “Oh but something happened right?” “Yea she came on to Ariana because Dana withheld her pleasures as far as I understand it.” “Pleasures huh…” The man laughs. “That’s a nice way of saying it.” “And what do you know about that anyway?” Kate asks, “You’re so close to them?” “Oh Dana tells me a lot about everything in her life. She’s not as tough as she makes it look. Always asking people for help and advice. She asked me how to discipline a woman misbehaving so I said bondage and orgasm control…” “I see.” Kate feels like they’re talking about a different Dana. Dana is her advisor at times. Confident and smart Dana… They arrive at the van. “I’m Tommy by the way. Nice to meet you.” “Yea, sure.” Kate says distracted by her thoughts. Kate grabs some chairs and carries them into the lobby. Then heads back grabbing some bags of clothes and puts those in the lobby as well. Tommy follows her example and empties the van into the lobby. They then shove everything into the elevator and Kate rides it up while Tommy goes to get more things from Dana’s place. Kate arrives on the 12th floor seeing her own front door and curses under her breath. “Shit, wrong floor.” And heads to the 4th floor. Ariana anxiously awaits her. “Kate please, not today!” She hushes to Kate as she carries the first things inside. “What’s wrong sweetie?” Kate asks. Ariana looks pained. “It hurts… My stomach hurts.” Kate looks at her worried and shuts off the vibrator. “Hurts how? Are you ok?” “I don’t know, it feels like my period. But it’s too soon. Can we not use the vibrator? Please?” Ariana pleads. Kate hugs the poor girl and pulls her close. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry…” She gives the key to Ariana and tells her to hurry upstairs and remove the vibrator, but keep the belt on. Ariana practically runs away to relieve herself. Upstairs she hastily unlocks the belt and fishes out the vibrator. It takes some doing but finally it comes out. Her vagina is very tight today. What the hell is that about? Feeling flustered from basically fingering herself to find the vibrator she rubs her clitoris for a few moments feeling the tension leave her body. Sitting on the bathroom floor for a few moments she pulls herself up and re-locks her belt before returning to Kate on the 4th floor and handing her the key back. “Better?” Kate asks her. “Yes Kate.” Ariana looks at her lovingly, “Thank you for understanding.” “Always sweetie, no pain in our games, right?” Kate ruffles her girlfriends hair. Ariana then frowns, “I’m very tight today, the vibrator was really stuck in there… What does that mean?” “Eh, ok? But you’re ok, right?” Kate says, sounding worried. “Maybe you’re just tense?” “I don’t know, I never felt it before.” Ariana whispers. “Well, let me know if you don’t feel better soon. We’ll figure it out then.” Kate says. Ariana hugs Kate tight standing in the living room feeling so lucky with her sweet sweet boss. Sheila hears some whispering and stressed out talking, something is hurting Ariana? Maybe? But she can’t hear enough to understand what’s going on. Ariana helps carry the last items from the vestibule inside and the girls try to decide where what goes. They don’t really know. So they choose a bedroom and put the clothes there. The living room speaks for itself but if the cabinet they struggle with belongs there… They’re not sure. Oh man, I wish Sheila was here to help coordinate. Kate thinks. “I think it’s a bathroom cabinet.” Ariana says and they argue if the thing belongs in the hallway then or in the bathroom. “Shh!” Ariana suddenly says. “Hear that?” Kate listens closely but hears nothing. Ariana whispers at Kate “I think someone is in the meter cabinet.” Kate tries the door but it’s locked. She listens at the door but hears nothing thinking Ariana is imagining things. “I’m sure someone or something is here.” Ariana whispers at Kate, I feel it. A presence. And I heard a yelp earlier. Kate mocks her girlfriend by calling out “Hello? Anyone here? Ghost oh ghost come out!” Sheila is terrified at the idea of being discovered. She almost gave away her presence 2 times now. And the people in her flat are becoming suspicious. That fucking Dana and her evil punishments. Immediately feeling guilty at thinking bad about Dana she corrects herself. She should be nice to Dana for the lessons she got. Sheila holds her breath for the 100th time as someone walks by so she can stay quiet. Hoping it’ll be over soon. Tommy brings 4 more loads of furniture and inventory and announces he’s thirsty. He asks Ariana to make him some coffee. Ariana senses his dominant personality and immediately jumps into the kitchen to retrieve the drinks she brought. A few moments later Kate walks in and sees Ariana’s submissive demeanor to Tommy and immediately feels jealous, observing the two to try and figure out what’s going on. Tommy enjoys his power over women like Ariana and bosses her around to bring a chair and cookies if she has any. Ariana doesn’t have cookies or biscuits and apologizes to Tommy for not thinking to bring any. He says that’s alright and takes his drink without so much as a thanks. Kate steps in and says “That’s enough Tommy, Ariana is not your servant. Go get your own biscuits if you want any. There is a convenience store a few blocks from here.” Her spell broken, Ariana lets Kate guide her away into the hallway asking what the hell she’s thinking. “Sorry Kate, he just started bossing me around. I uh, I don’t know what came over me.” She bows her head looking guilty. Kate hugs her girl. And whispers she doesn’t have to listen to him. You don’t obey others either do you? Dana for example. “Dana does not have a dominant personality.” Ariana says. Kate looks at her. “She’s Sheila’s mistress though…” Ariana says. “I never feel Dana is dominant or strong. He is eh, different…” Kate hmms and changes the subject. Sheila hears their hushed exchange and can understand bits and pieces of it. What does she mean with ‘Dana is not dominant’? Dana is super dominant to her… And who is ‘he’? She also figures that Ariana is easily controlled by a dominant person. An evil idea floats through her head. She wonders what would happen if she would send a dominant guy after Ariana and he’ll screw with her head how badly that will upset Kate. She smirks vengefully at her dumb idea. Kate and Ariana are again arguing about the cabinet and where it should go, carrying it from room to room to show each other where it should go. Tommy pokes his head around the door and says he’s headed for Sheila’s stuff now. 2 or 3 more loads he assures them. The women wish him good luck and they hear the door smack shut followed by a surprised yelp. “See, there’s the ghost again…” Ariana whispers with a startled look. “The flat is haunted.” Kate is not so sure, but she did hear the yelp. “Very strange…” she says staring unsure into the hallway. Then on to more important matters. “Babe, please stay away from Tommy ok? I don’t like you talking to him.” “Hah, you’re jealous again.” Ariana teases her. “Yes I am, and I don’t like how you respond to him. So please steer clear of him or don’t obey him, ok?” “Yes ma’am.” Ariana agrees. “Thanks babe, you’re going great today. But I still think the cabinet belongs in the hallway.” Ariana pokes Kate, “I don’t care anymore, let’s just put it somewhere and Dana can sort it out.” “Right.” Kate says. “How about in the hallway?” They laugh and put the cabinet in the living room as there is the most space. And smooch sitting on the worn out couch waiting for Tommy to return. Ariana thinks the couch is uncomfortable and wants to sit on Kate’s lap touching her girlfriend. Kate asks about her burn marks, and looks at her neck. Only seeing 2 blurry purple spots. “Whoa, it’s almost healed.” She cheers. Ariana smiles. “I didn’t feel them today…” And thinks that maybe soon she’s finally healed and pretty again. bzzzzzzzt The door buzzer sounds. Tommy brings 2 more loads of items, mostly clothes and bedding. Some kitchen stuff. Then Dana shows up looking around acknowledging everyone’s hard work and invites them all for donuts as a thanks for helping. Kate asks where Sheila is, she’s been wondering about that all day. Dana is vague about her whereabouts and avoids answering. Ariana had been thinking and decided to talk to Dana about the ghost. “Dana?” Ariana asks. “Dana! I think the flat is haunted by a kami, probably a Onryō or Fuyūrei spirit.” Dana and Kate look surprised at Ariana. And Dana bursts out in a laugh. A spirit? Ariana looks dead serious. “I heard it 3 times. You should get an ofuda and put it somewhere inside to ward it off.” Kate shakes her head. “What’s a onro or fujurie spirit sweetie?” “Onryō or Fuyūrei” Ariana corrects her, using the Japanese pronunciation. “A Onryō spirit can be evil and is a restless spirit from someone who died here long ago. They can curse things or persons. Causing chaos and disaster.” “And the other one?” Dana asks with a laugh. “Don’t laugh, it’s real!” Ariana snips at her. “A Fuyūrei spirit is like a ghost and wanders around with no purpose. Sometimes they cause trouble.” Kate looks at Ariana, “Do we have protection like that?” “Of-course!” Ariana exclaims, feeling she’s not being taken seriously. “We have 2 Ofuda.” “What’s that?” Dana asks with interest. “It’s like a talisman, usually made of paper or wood. It works like a blessing. We have 2, One is for a safe home and the other is to find love. But there are many types of protections you can declare.” Kate says, “Those are the plates in your office? Next to the door?” Ariana nods. “Don’t you feel safe at home? And didn’t you find love?” Kate agrees both are true. “So it works! No kami to disrupt us!” Ariana assures them. Dana laughs. I should get some of that too as she doesn’t like ghosts in her closets. And she slaps the meter cabinet door. Ariana says she should. Sheila hears bits and pieces of what the women are talking about but doesn’t get what’s going on. Something about a ghost, she thinks. She hears Dana laugh repeatedly and wishes she could join her lover. Then there is a loud bang on the door and she tenses up holding her breath. “Right well, let’s go get some donuts.” Kate says, winking at Dana who shakes her head at Ariana’s crazy talk. “Get your shoes Ariana,” She pushes her girlfriend to the living room. “A ghost huh,” Dana smirks. “You believe that crap?” Kate says she’s not so sure, but can’t deny she found true love. Supposedly because of the Ofuddle. “Kaahaate! It’s called a Ofuda not ofuddle!” Ariana whines. Dana and Kate look at each other and burst out laughing. “Fine, don’t believe me. You’ll see how the kami will bother you soon.” Dana promises she’ll think about it. Knowing she won’t have to. “Give me a minute, I’ll find you down stairs.” “Sure, we’ll wait in the lobby.” Kate says and she pulls Ariana to the elevator. Tommy had disappeared somewhere mid-ghost talk and Dana is now alone with Sheila. Dana hears Ariana argue with Kate that she should take the ofuddi, or whatever she calls it, seriously as the door falls in the lock. Not wasting time, Dana immediately pulls open the meter cabinet door, hearing a surprised shriek from Sheila. She’s perched up against her pole exactly like Dana left her almost 6 hours ago. Her nipples hard and her thighs running wet from her vagina that’s dripping from under her chastity belt. Dana smiles at her girlfriend. “If I let you cum, will you submit to me?” Sheila immediately yells “Yes, yes, anything, please Dana make me cum. I’ll do anything!” Dana tweaks her nipples and Sheila squirms in her bonds grimacing in pain. “Hmm no, not yet. I don’t think you’re sincere enough yet.” Sheila wails and begs desperately. “Danaaa please. I’ll be good. I’ll be your slave, anything, if you want. Just let me cum.” “My slave? Why would I want a useless slave like you? All you care for is your own orgasm.” Dana frowns at her and slaps her tits causing another wail from Sheila. “Think about that…” Dana laughs and closes the door and locks it again. She quickly freshens up and changes her shirt for something nicer. Wearing a tight top covering her ample breasts. She heads downstairs to treat Ariana and Kate for donuts. 14 - Clean slate After their donut lunch the women head home and Dana once again thanks them for their help. Coming home, she leaves her girlfriend in the closet for now and starts unpacking some of their things. Sheila thinks they’re alone and calls out to Dana from time to time, but Dana ignores her. Ariana had arranged the furniture the way she thought it would look nice and Dana mostly agrees with the setup. Ariana has assured her the energy in her apartment was good and the furniture felt good with it. She just needed to deal with the ghost. Dana smirks at her ghost in the closet and makes the bed. She puts their clothes in the bedroom closet and the bedding and extra towels on the shelves in the storage room. She unpacks some of the kitchen items and box by box the flat becomes theirs. After about an hour of unpacking and setting things up, it’s about 4PM, Dana thinks it’s time to let her girlfriend out of the closet. Sheila is fidgeting in her bonds. She feels incredibly horny at the idea of her punishment ending today. Finally she would be able to orgasm. As the door finally opens she flinches in the bright light and looks pitiful at Dana. Dana says nothing and unties the woman from the pole. As Sheila takes a weak step forward Dana tells her she’s been in the cabinet for a mere 8 hours. If she misbehaves in ANY way she’ll go in for much longer. Sheila nods with a sad look, suddenly having a feeling her punishment is far from over. Dana straps her wrists together behind her back and lets the excess strap dangle down to the floor. And now the conclusion to her master plan, Dana thinks. “Here is your chance for a clean slate miss.” Sheila looks at her expectantly. “Option one, you’ll obey me and be faithful without question from now on. Every day, all day, forever or until we’re tired of each other.” “Dana… I…” She starts but Dana silences her. “Option two, you can choose to leave right now. Simply fuck off back to your house and forget about me.” “Dana, no…pleas…” But Dana silences her again. “Or, if you don’t pick option one, I’ll loan you out to Tommy for the week so he can help you choose, he and his whip are very persuasive…” She looks at Sheila, who looks back fearfully. Wondering who Tommy is. “Dana, I have to work. Tomorrow? I think. You have to let me go.” “I literally give you the most important choice of your life and you worry about your job?” Dana scolds her. Sheila loses her temper. “Well fuck you then. I want out. Option 2.” Dana sighs. “You’re sure?” “Yes, let me go! I’ve followed since high school! I gave up my studies for you! I gave up my friends and have given you everything I am, and it’s still not enough!?” Dana looks at her and softly says, “No, I want all of you. Not just your affection and love.” She whispers. “I love you Sheila, don’t you see?” “Hurting me is not love Dana. And for what? For me trying to get off after you deny me sex for weeks with your fucking chastity torture? For 5 weeks I’ve endured your cruel bullshit and I’m sick of it! So let’s go back to how we were or let me go!” Sheila rages at Dana. Dana says nothing but pushes Sheila to her knees. She then ties the excess strap around her ankles effectively putting the poor girl in a sitting hogtie. She looks at Sheila with a saddened face and says “Last chance for option 1”. Sheila says nothing and looks defiantly at Dana. Dana sits next to Sheila and caresses her lover’s head. Whispering encouraging words to her. Trying to convince her that she wants and needs to be with Dana. 4 and a bit minutes later she has Sheila in tears. Her defiance finally broke, She’s blabbering at Dana feeling sorry for whatever she did and wants to stay with her. Sheila doesn’t want to be alone and definitely doesn’t want to go with Tommy. She’ll be good, she promises. “You really mean it?” Dana says seeing her plan work. Sheila nods vigorously and Dana looks relieved at the broken girl next to her. “I’m very proud of you Sheila. We’re going to be great together.” Dana beams. Dana leaves Sheila sitting on her knees for a bit as she prepares the bed for the two of them. When it’s ready she unties Sheila’s ankles before leading her to the foot of the bed. “Stand here and don’t move.” She orders Sheila. Sheila curiously looks around her new bedroom and sees Dana’s creaky old bed in the middle of the room. Her closet filled with their clothes stands to the side. Dana comes back and removes the straps from her girlfriend. She then pulls out a key and unlocks the chastity belt. It falls to the ground and Sheila immediately starts rubbing herself. “You said you’d be good. No touching!” Dana sneers at her. “Dana, please I need it.” “Don’t you dare…” Dana says threateningly. Giving her butt a firm slap. Sheila sighs trying to control herself. Both her hands linger near her crotch and it takes a lot of willpower to not touch herself. Dana feels content with her supposed mind fuck, she read in a book that if you pretend to be harsh the captive will eventually submit to whatever seems like an out or a better alternative. So an end to a seemingly endless punishment in exchange for obedience in this case. Tommy’s idea for denying Sheila her orgasms also helped a great deal too, she thinks. Feeling accomplished she pulls a very obedient Sheila to their bed. “Lay down in the middle and wait for me.” “Yes Dana…” Sheila timidly says, hoping she’ll be allowed release soon. Dana pulls the blanket over Sheila’s head so she can’t easily see and walks away to the spare room and comes back with a box she ordered last week as a sort of housewarming gift for the two. Sheila waits on the bed, her hands wandering around her belly button. Resisting the temptation to touch herself. She’s unable to see what Dana is doing and after a few minutes feels Dana climb on the bed and crawl over her. Suddenly she feels a rubbery thing pushing at her vagina. Instantly Sheila knows what Dana is doing and pushes her crotch up to receive the big dildo. Only mildly surprised it’s a strap-on dildo. “Ohhhhh” Sheila whimpers loudly. “Yesssss! Finally.” Dana slowly pushes the dildo into Sheila until she grimaces in discomfort. It’s a girthy one. “Danaaaaaa! Yeees!” Sheila moans out loud. Dana smiles and starts thrusting into her girlfriend. Pushing all the right buttons. The sex is short lived for Sheila as she cums almost instantly. And on the 5th thrust she tenses up and orgasms loudly. Dana is not done yet though and only slows down a bit so Sheila can ride out her orgasm. Then speeds up again a minute later and fucks her girlfriend full of energy until she herself comes from the vibrating egg inside the harness. Sheila feels her lover tense up on top of her and slump over her panting heavily, the dildo stuck between her lips. After calming down Dana gets up and pulls the dildo out of her girlfriend with a wet plopping sound. She removes the harness and lays down next to her girl. “Are you gonna be a good girl from now on?” She asks menacingly. Sheila nods. “Am I your slave now?” “If you want to be, sure. But our arrangement from before is good enough for me.” Sheila looks at her stunned. Realizing she’s been had. “So it was all a big trick?” She calls out in a flash of anger. “No, you needed to learn your lesson.” Dana casually says. Then more sternly, “The belt goes back on if you screw up, and not just for a month. Understand? And if you then still won’t improve I’ll never ever let you orgasm again… Remember that.” Sheila looks at Dana’s serious face. “Really?” Fearing the threat of never being able to orgasm. “Yes, really. Don’t go fucking around behind my back, ever! I’ll find out and punish you for it. You’re mine and you’ll be faithful to me and me alone, you understand?” Sheila swallows and nods. “I’m sorry I disappointed you.” “You better be. You almost ruined our friendship with Kate and our relationship with your lack of self control.” Her girlfriend looks guilty. “Sorry Dana… Really. I love you…” Her voice trails away lost in thought. “I love you too Sheila.” Dana says, pressing a kiss on her girlfriend’s nose. Sheila thinks about Dana’s words. Her lack of self control… But she managed many weeks in the chastity belt, so long she lost count of the days. Craving another orgasm already her hand slips down and she carefully rubs herself feeling her wetness. She immediately feels guilty and asks Dana if she can masturbate. She may. Fucking hell she thinks she loves her freedom, she quietly sighs. Promising herself to never disobey Dana again. As Sheila quietly masturbates herself to a 2nd orgasm. Dana looks at Sheila telling her what a slut she is. But Sheila doesn’t care what Dana thinks of her, all she wants is her orgasm. Afterwards they cuddle for a few minutes when Dana wants Sheila to get them dinner while she prepares the kitchen. Dana promises they’ll unpack everything the next day and make the flat theirs together. After a week or two Ariana is relieved to realize that the couple from downstairs do not constantly come visit and seem to go their own way. She thinks Dana is very controlling and tries to avoid her. Sheila has returned from wherever she had been and is a much better friend to Ariana and Kate. Kate is learning more about Ariana’s spirit warding and likes the concept. She’s surprised to find Shinto fascinating, having never bothered with religion much. Although she doesn’t really believe in it, she takes an interest and no longer thinks the Ofuda Ariana has are just for show. Ariana explains which Ofuda does what, and how important she thinks it is. Proving her own beliefs by the fact she has an unwavering love for Kate and that she feels safe when she’s home and doesn’t feel spirits in their flat. A silly feedback loop Kate thinks with a smirk, but whatever helps Ariana feel better is important to Kate so she goes along with it. After hearing all this Kate suggests they should get a talisman for Dana and Sheila. Ariana thinks that’s a great idea and she takes Kate to a local Shinto shrine to get a protective Ofuda for Dana and Sheila. The Kannushi of the shrine wants to know what kind of spirit Ariana felt and she tells him her experience and pokes Kate, who smirks and confirms something seemed to be in the electric cabinet. After some deliberation an Ofuda is drawn on a wooden slat and stamped by the cleric. The seriousness of the whole procedure causes Kate to laugh. She never realized Ariana is so spiritual. On their way home Kate asks her about that and Ariana says she’s not religious at all, but you can’t take the risk with kami. Better safe than sorry. Kate can’t argue with that, and it was a fun and interesting experience she thinks. Wondering if she should get some of that incense for their flat. The next day Ariana gifts the Ofuda to Dana and the two hang it above the front door. Dana likes the calligraphy of the talisman and thanks Ariana for her kind gift. When Ariana leaves, Dana can’t stop laughing, after-all, she has already released her ghost. Sheila comes home that evening and asks about the thing above the door. Dana tells her it’s a gift from Ariana to keep Sheila’s spirit in line. Ariana on subsequent visits to the 4th floor never feels or hears a spirit again, affirming her belief that the Ofuda works.

Electric Jane The oversized, electric dildo securely locked into Titty-tart’s ass was creating a very realistic sensation of rapidly and deeply thrusting into her overstretched hiney-hole via the wave action of its shock point array and it made her gasp as it bumped inside her against the huge punishment dildo secured in her long-suffering pussy. The ring gag held her mouth open to its absolute maximum and she moaned silently as she worked furiously to please the customer’s cock with her mouth, tongue and throat. She’d have held his balls and worked the shaft of his cock with her hands, but they were mittened into useless little balls and short-chained up to her collar behind her back. That’s how all the ‘happy ending’ girls spent their days here at the Punishment Café, in back-prayer bondage, sucking or waiting en-pointe and leashed in line hoping for an opportunity to lick or suck. ...

Pat(ty) My given name is Patrick. I’m twenty-three, I’m into self-bondage, and I’m a cross-dresser. Not all the time, you understand; I have to work for a living, but cross-dressing is my fetish, and for lack of interest in almost anything else, my one hobby. I’m sure that I probably spend more time and money shopping for shoes & clothes than the average female, but it’s what I like. I’m lucky that I have a body that lends itself to female attire; I’m five feet eight inches tall and slender, at one hundred thirty pounds. My almost-black hair is cut in a ‘page-boy’ style, which I hide by wearing it pulled up into a ‘man-bun’ or up under a hat. With my hair down and make-up on, I’m quite passable as a girl and I often go out dressed as one. I’m not gay, but I love flirting with men while I’m dressed in something sexy. ...

Velma shifted uneasily on her seat in the back of the Mystery Machine. She was stuck in between Shaggy and Scooby, because each claimed car sickness if they didn’t have a window. Daphne rode shotgun, as usual. Everyone in the group knew Fred had a thing for her. And why not, Velma sighed. Gorgeous long red hair that you could bury your face in, long legs that her little short dress almost showed too much of, and a figure that just wanted to be squeezed, what wasn’t there to like? ...

3: Doll Delivery Chapter 12: Packaged As the sunlight creeps onto its masked face, the doll awakens to the sight of Dr. Kitami sleeping, sharing the same rubber pillow. At some point, someone had tucked them in, as they were now completely enveloped by the thick rubber duvet. They were still bound together, arms intertwined, mouths simultaneously kissing and filled by the shared cock gag and harness still holding their crotches together, the doll’s cock, though flaccid, still inside the doctor. The doll feels both hot and cold, the layers of rubber causing pools of sweat to accumulate in its rubber suit and in puddles on the bed surrounding their bound bodies. It glances over to see Mistress already awake, drawing the rubber curtains around the bedframe. The doll struggles and moans, waking Dr. Kitami in the process. Her eyes initially show signs of panic and confusion that quickly give way to acceptance and perhaps even a bit of relief upon realizing the situation. The dolls cock twitches at the sight of her beautiful eyes but before things can go any further, Mistress speaks; “all right love birds, time to get cleaned up, you’ve got a very special day ahead.” ...

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. ...

14: Ava’s Hangry New Friend Everything was going perfectly for Summer. She had a great girlfriend and had made up with her friend Ava after years. As a result, and with the coach’s approval, she could be a cheerleader again with a clear conscience. After the prank she had played on Ava, she couldn’t expect her to continue teaming up with her. Summer had put the time off from cheerleading to good use, though. Not only did she have more time to play. She also had more time for her other hobby, science. ...

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. ...

Part 1 Vale Alone I finally got home after a long day and flopped down on my bed. “Another free weekend,” I muttered, staring at the ceiling. I was alone in my own four walls, had so much space and yet most of the time I was lying, curled up on my bed or sofa, sometimes just the floor. Freedom was something I hadn’t felt in a long time. And now that I could do whatever I wanted, I just lay on my bed and did nothing. For the first few months, I had thought that if I ever got free from slavery again, I would enjoy life to the fullest. It was true, too. I did more things, met more people, and overall had a happier life than before, but once I was home… I was alone. ...

Part 4 “Hey, are you awake?” A voice woke me. I wouldn’t have said I was fully asleep, I mostly had my eyes closed and my brain was slowly beginning to drift off, being disrupted did not come at any inconvenience at this stage. The living room was dark. Donna and Poppy had disappeared into the bedroom just less than an hour ago and I could already hear the woman snoring quietly and the quiet whistle of Poppy’s breathing, telling me she was asleep too. ...

Anne Fields was an office administrator, working in the city for a medium size finance company, which for most of the year meant keeping the office clean and open, with enough stocks of everything from mugs to paper to loo roll. In practice it also meant that most of the account managers, almost all male, treated her like their own personal dogsbody, from ordering pizza to cleaning up spills and occasionally emptying their rubbish bins if they’d filled them up before the end of the day. On the upside the pay was quite good, even including a clothes allowance as she was occasionally required to greet clients and other office visitors. ...

Part 1 Sorcerer’s Apprentice Terra watched intently as her daughter strained to move a ballpoint pen using only her magic. It scratched across the paper, answering Caitlyn’s English exam. “Aaaaaand end, put the pen down!” said Terra with satisfaction, and the pen made one last point and toppled over as Caitlyn slumped in her chair, exhausted. Terra walked over to her daughter’s table and put her hand on her shoulder as she took the paper and began to study it. ...

Part 1 Protector of the Woods Her cell phone rang early in the morning. Denise groaned in annoyance and groped sleepily for the troublemaker and answered the call. “…Yes?” “Boss, we just arrived at the forest and…” Her employee fell silent, afraid to continue speaking. “What is it this time?” she asked, already expecting some shit about why her guys couldn’t cut down the forest for yet another time. “The vehicles are all covered in trees,” she said. ...

Part 15. Chastity Drive Emma, with Kit, survived the sea full of people. A few predators came for them. Her dress was the main casualty as it sustained a tear when one greedy, possibly desperate person grabbed it as she was walking. She was just glad to make it to others and try to get to the start of the event even though she still had things to do first. ...

*Part 1Summer’s Backstab “Alright then ladies, we’re done for the day, but remember that selection competition is this afternoon and we’re cheering hard for your new teammates!” their coach shouted, and the girls of the cheerleading squad broke out their applause. Summer didn’t. She disliked the tradition that came with the selection process, and despite her coach’s warnings, these incidents kept happening. Summer glanced around the group and could see directly that Sarah and her friends were plotting something. When one of them noticed Summer’s gaze, the pink haired girl quickly looked away. She wanted nothing to do with it, but she thought she saw out of the corner of her eye that the women had started whispering among themselves. ...

Chapter 1 I don’t think I had ever been so nervous as I was sitting on her sofa, waiting for my date to return. It had been the perfect evening up until that point, but I knew this was really make or break if I wanted to get anywhere with her. I had been waiting for this moment for so long and truthfully, I never thought it would actually come. For months I had been fantasising about her, the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, and had been trying to build up the courage to introduce myself. ...

Chapter 1 After several years of trying in vain, April was finally going to the annual Halloween ball at the Fielding Estate, out in the trendy western suburbs. It would be the party of the season! To be honest, it wasn’t really her that had been invited. It was her new boyfriend, Gabe. He was a very eligible bachelor in their town, and a regular with the ‘In-crowd’. As Gabe’s ‘plus one’, she planned to make this her party, and in the process, use her perfect costume to cement her position as Gabe’s favorite girl. She was so excited! She’d finally get to stick it to the upper crust of this town, and get the man of her dreams! ...

“Wait… Why are you looking at me like that?” “…” What could I answer? We were in the women’s locker room after our cheerleader practice, and our top girl took off her top, which allowed me to see her naked chest. Perhaps I was too foolish and thought she would not notice my stare because I was also a pretty girl like her, but that wasn’t the case. She saw right through me and realized that my eyes were not just randomly looking at things; I desired her. She was right; I wanted more than just to admire her, but if she did not want the same, all she had to do was to laugh it out and say she wasn’t interested. ...

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. ...

Episode 6 “Aaand, you are free!” “AAAAAAAAAAAH!” Finally, Silver pulled the dead alien head bag off my head, and I could take my first deep breath in days. “How are you feeling, X?” “Hooornyyy! Please, unlock my crotch shield.” “Haha. Okay, okay. Don’t pull on my shirt like that.” “Silver! You fucked me all week in the ass. You didn’t have to wait for me to beg.” “It was more fun that way. But now, I’ll fuck you for real. You must be so frustrated.” ...

Part 3 They say one human year is the equivalent of fifteen cat years. I had certainly felt that as a pet. Only a week had gone by and it felt like I had been trapped in the suit for years. It felt like an eternity had gone by since I had felt my own skin, heard my own voice or used my individual fingers. It had been so long since I thought like a normal human; on a normal day boys would be on my mind, hanging out with friends or seeing the latest films at the cinema. Topics like music and the latest gossip amongst my friends were things I would talk about. ...

We had arrived at Joan’s weekend property a couple of hours outside of town. “Hop out and open the gate,” Joan said as she pulled the car off the main road and onto the dirt track. I did as I was told. After all, that was the deal. She drove the car in, stopping just inside. I closed the gate and went to get back into the car only to find that she had locked the doors and was standing beside the car. She had an overnight bag in her hand. As I approached she said “take off all your clothes, you can leave your joggers on.” ...

Part 9: Blackmail “Today was the last day under my care for you,” Mistress June told me, “You will go back to Mistress May for the rest of your training. Do you really want to quit? If you do that now everything you endured was for nothing. You will get no money, you might even be forced to pay for the tuition. The rest of your training will be easy going with May.” ...

“Let’s see… Nabat Agaev for direct transfer this morning. Geez, she’s a sight. How long’s she been under t-and-e?” “Paper says… three months? That can’t be right? Most I’ve ever seen is seventeen days. According to records she made acceptable levels twenty-two days in.” “What’s that note in the details say?” “Hmmm? Oh. …By orders of Dr. Jan Greere, contractor number 78, Nabat Agaev, is to undergo physiological test and exam as follows for a period of no less than three months before permanent compulsory transfer to… Tarjblenistan!? Do we even have a consulate there?” ...

Arrival He’d said the wine I’d been drinking on the flight gave my mouth a floral flavour. l took the compliment, but I’d undoubtedly had too much, probably out of the anxiety of having only met him twice before. This time was different though. Our online chats had entered new territory. To make a long story short, he’d sent me a picture of a girl in underwear and bound with white rope, with the challenge: “Do you fancy an adventure?” ...

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. ...

10: Best Catburglar/Kidnapper Ever III “I… I can’t get in!” hissed Maike, banging her fist on the desk. Her laptop and the screen of the computer she was trying to hack bounced into the air. “Wow, calm down first. Well, then it’s well protected, that didn’t stop you before.” Jade said with her arms folded behind her head, spinning boredly in her office chair. “Jade, look around! This is a toddler’s room! How can the computer be better protected than my own!” ...

Peggy and Maggie were excited their new boyfriends were willing to visit the family farm. Both were city boys, so the farm was a new experience for both. Bernie and Billy had never been on a farm to actually see pigs and cows. They learned pigs really do like being in the mud. The boys were even allowed to watch a butchering as the pigs were scalded in a large tub, cut and hung up awaiting the butcher’s knife. The girls jokingly teased the boys that they would love to hang the boys naked from the rafters like the pigs and play with them. Bernie and Billy didn’t know whether to laugh, run or take them up on the offer. ...

Michelle was reapplying his pink lipstick in the mirror of the club bathroom. He had been there a few hours and had a few trysts in Dolly Michelle persona. But he was on the prowl for at least one more to finish off the first night of his weekend. It had been a long week and he needed to blow off some steam. One last look in the mirror reflected back a bimbo doll. The opaque white latex suit only left his eyes and mouth exposed. Fake black hair spilled out in pigtails to shoulder length from the sides of his hood. His pink glittery eyeshadow complemented his lips, corset and ankle boots. The corset helped exaggerate a slim waist while enhancing the giant balloon-like tits. He didn’t have breasts in his mind. They were his bimbo tits. ...

9: Gotta Catch Them All “So Cait,” Summer started, “do you feel like going on in a special place? You’re already dressed pretty appropriately for it too.” “Phew Summer I’m honestly a little tired already,” Caitlyn laughed as she looked into Summer’s grinning face. “Sure, sure. Can totally understand,” Summer said slyly, turning around and raising her fist, “You can pick these up next week then, ok?” Summer opened her fist and Caitlyn saw that a key ring was hanging from her middle finger. Stunned, Caitlyn stared at the keys dangling from it. ...

Part 2 My eyes gingerly opened as the early morning light started to shine through the thin curtains of the room. It took me a moment to remember where I was, the night before I woke up in a prison cell, which made this much more welcome to see when I first opened my eyes. I was still on the floor after yesterday, Cleo made herself more than comfortable at the end of Donna’s bed and I could still see she was there through my tired eyes. ...

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 3 Alice and I looked at each other; we could see where this was headed. Or we thought we could. Rope in hand, Eva bent over the inert body of Jeannie and, with some effort, rolled her onto her stomach. She started to pull her arms behind her back, then staggered and collapsed on top of Jeannie with a groan. For a moment neither of them moved, then Jeannie seemed to wake up and wriggled out from under the unconscious Eva. ...

So today is my take a deep breath, let’s-do-this day. I’ve taken the day off from my waitressing job at the cafe, and come up to the city on the train. Getting to the studio partly on foot in this heat has made me a little hot and bothered, but the real stress came from the anxiety of finally taking the plunge. Ever since I’d moved to the Bay area, I’d been aware of this studio, and of the kind of movies it specialized in. Damsels in distress - it was the kind of thing I’d fantasized about ever since that one time an ex had tied me down as a teen, and I’d pretended not to like it. He’d shown me pictures of girls tied up, ball-gagged, and such. I was younger then, and forgot about it, consigning all that kind of thing to the domain of misogynistic fantasy. ...

Book 3 Chapter 01 “Your sister was right. You are the most stubborn person I have ever met,” Empusa said to Charity in her proper British accent.. On the other side of the steel bars that formed a sparse cell furnished with only a narrow cot, Charity raised her right hand with her middle finger extended. Empusa scoffed. “The groomers and stable hands report that you are constantly talking to yourself. I know what you are trying to do! You obviously have decided that if you can hold on to your language then you can prevent the Zoic Amplifier that is locked around your waist from transitioning you to your true calling as a womanimal.” ...

Part 4 The time thankfully seemed to fly by as Ana continued doing inventory; at times she almost forgot about her chastity but was rudely reminded by them that she was still very much locked in due to a painful shock or their teasing vibrations. Cass was right, the shocks definitely hurt more now due to Ana’s attempt to crack the password. She regretted her curiosity getting the better of her and endeavoured to keep it under control until she was released…if she was ever released. It seemed like at this point she would be stuck indefinitely. She shook her head, internally scolding herself for making her situation worse. ...

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.” ...

8: The Magic Forest While the center of Leon City had very little green outside of Central Park, a dense forest had grown up behind the large steel suspension bridge to the east. Many myths and legends surrounded it, as well as the odd shivering tale that discouraged residents from venturing longer walks through it. Many times in the past, attempts were made to cut down the trees and to open up the land for more houses and skyscrapers, but something always went wrong when the logging was to begin. The machines started to strike or the forest became home to rare nesting birds, so that the project had to be postponed further and further and finally came to nothing. The inhabitants of the city did not know that in the middle of their mysterious forest, a lonely stone old wooden hut stood, in which centuries ago, two of the probably most powerful beings had settled, which ever wandered on earth. Phaelyn, a female angel, and Ifry, a female demon, had deserted their homeland and their armies after countless battles to build a new life together outside their war-torn world. Their choice fell on the hut near, at that time, Leon’s Keep. Far from human eyes, they lived a peaceful and even passionate life there. The bond that united the unequal pair was formed in their last fight. When both, exhausted from days of dueling, launched a final attack, their heads collided and within a split second they saw each other’s lives flash before their eyes. Saw each other’s ups and downs, their dreams and desires. What’s more, the look was shared with each other. Phaelyn’s normally golden blonde hair was parted in black, hiding a red eye, and a small demon horn sprouted from her head. Ifry’s pitch black hair got a golden patch from which a golden curl curled and hid a sky blue eye. They knew that after this experience they could never fight each other again and fled the battlefield and their world together. Only when they were sure that they were not being pursued did they realize that they had shared not only their appearance, but also their magic, which after years of peace and sporadic use was only a shadow of its former strength. Their power was still enough to drive away curious people or to disable the machines that wanted to burn down their forest. ...

Santa’s Helper Lisa knew this would work, she clearly remembered seeing Santa when she was five and even though no one would believe her she knew she had seen him. Tonight, she would prove it. The box was ready, her outfit was ready, all she had to do was get dressed, shimmy into the box and wait. Over the years she had set up hidden cameras, sound recording devices even had thermal imaging and not once did she ever get anything other than something failing or static. So, she had come up with an idea to hopefully surprise the big guy long enough to snap a picture herself. ...

“Oh come on, it won’t be that bad!” Ash exclaimed. Riley had just finished getting the door opened, seemed the hinges were a bit rusty. As Jamie climbed through they remarked, “Yeah, I know…just an old medical facility, I get weird vibes.” “We are weird thoughts…” muttered Riley, and nobody could argue with that sound logic. Much of the facility was in ruins, or already cleared out of anything interesting. Sure there were plenty of old files and documents, but no gross pictures or x-rays to make them exciting. The trio came across only one door that was locked. As it was the only locked door, they knew they had to get in, it was no longer optional. Curiosity got the better of them and soon were scouring the nearby drawers and desks for keys. Riley bumped a painting while searching and it fell to the floor with the sound of shattered glass. Jamie picked up the edge of the frame and lifted it, and a single key fell from it. Ash swiped the key and took a careful look. ...

I cannot recall exactly what happened that pushed me over the edge when I lost my temper with Domina. It could have been a bad day at work or any number of other issues. Regardless, I did not expect the outcome to be what it was. What is even stranger is how much I want this to occur again. I had come home and slammed the door. Domina was in the kitchen cooking the evening meal. She asked me about my day, and without thinking, I just replied, “It was fucking wonderful. Yay!” ...

Chapter 1: Rage against the defaults “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me to sunny Mexican beaches?” “Hmmm” “*Sigh* Honey, are you working?” “What? Sorry. I got another email.” “Helen!” “What?” Helen lowers her phone and turns from the passenger seat. “*Sigh* Please it’s not too late. Do you want to come with me?” “Come on, Brian. I feel bad enough already. I have work and those stupid meetings.” ...

Amy was the quintessential poor little rich girl but with a twist, she loved fetish and bondage. Amy’s parents had set her up with a nice home and an allowance that allowed her to live a very comfortable lifestyle. The beautiful girl had never been made to work or earn a living so her only pastime had been shopping and partying. Now in her mid-twenties Amy sat around most days shopping on-line buying everything she found interesting. When a past girlfriend had introduced her to bondage, she found she liked it a lot. Amy had since invested all her time into exploring the lifestyle, even spending time as a slave to a wonderful mistress. ...

Part 1 - “Being of sound mind…” The hotel suite was fairly large and you could view the park out the windows. It certainly looked expensive. David sat on the sofa next to his lawyer Melanie Garcia. He wanted someone who he could trust, and she was pretty much the best in the city. It didn’t hurt that they were both friends, although he kicked himself for not taking it further when he had the opportunity. Opposite from them were the two London lawyers, Arthur Beech and Sylvia Cronin. Two weeks ago, David had received a phone call from Ms. Cronin inquiring if he was the son of Barbara Hyde-Griffin. After a little conversation, he was told that she and her associate wished to discuss a matter regarding his uncle, Robert. She was a little vague and explained that their discussions would need to be kept in strictest confidence, and that they should meet in person. David asked Melanie for her help as this was sounding as if it was going to be a serious legal matter. She made some inquiries and confirmed that those two were authentic attorneys in a very old and distinguished London firm. ...

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. ...

My thong-split ass perches on the edge of the high stool and I watch as Blayne goes through a mess of electric cables and plugs on the floor. He’s trying to find a free socket to get some power for the device. I’m half way between excited and nervous! I’m already pretty uncomfortable being so underdressed in front of Blayne, but what he’s about to do to me next is another level. ...

Part 3 Ana didn’t get much sleep, every 30 minutes or so she would be shocked awake by the plugs inside her, the belt and bra also compressed further a couple of times during the night; Cass however slept soundly and couldn’t hear a thing with her earplugs in. Cass’s alarm went off at 7:00am, she laid in bed for a few minutes before stretching and going through her morning yoga routine. At 7:30am she finished her yoga and went to untie Ana from her bonds. She walked into Ana’s room and said, “Good morning, did you sleep well?” ...

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. ...

Thunder roared. Rain pattered. The Husband placed his key in the lock and rotated it. He opened the door to his home slowly, as if acting slowly would somehow prevent him from being noticed, or prevent his absence from being recognized. This was his caveman brain, his ancient reptilian brain, the part of him that operated on instinct and fight-or-flight. This was the part of him that was adapted to running from predators on the ancient savannah, and it was a part that was about to get a workout. ...

The year was 2011, I had been 18 for a couple of months, a senior at a relatively small town high school and a starter on the varsity soccer team. I had friends in almost every group there was but didn’t really consider myself a part of any of those cliques. I regularly had a new girlfriend every couple of weeks and was an outgoing and extroverted person in my day to day life. What no one knew was that behind closed doors and online I was an attention seeking sissy whore who loved to dress up, tie myself up and chat with men and women online. ...

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. ...

Part 2 When the wake-up sounded at hour-6, I got right in line for the showers, but I was still behind half my roommates. Since it took us twenty or thirty minutes apiece, it was nearly hour-7 by the time I was clean. I combed out my hair and dried off quickly before getting dressed and heading to the fifth floor cafeteria. I finished my meal and returned to my room. It was past hour-7.5; I couldn’t put off checking my schedule any longer. ...

5: Kim’s Prom Dress Kim stood in the dark hallway in her parents’ house. “Come on Kimberly, like you practiced!” she whispered to herself and reached her hand out for the door handle. Kim’s stomach turned when she saw that she was shaking. She drew in a hissing breath and pushed down on the handle. Her mother and stepfather were sitting on the sofa in the living room and when Kim opened the door, she immediately felt their eyes on her. ...

…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. ...

4: Best Catburglar/Kidnapper Ever II The whole car ride to Leon City, Jade had punished Maike with silence. Maike did not care, she was just glad that their mission was successful after the initial difficulties and enjoyed the silence on the way home. However, as they passed the first skyscrapers, Jade broke the silence. “I just mean that I know her somewhere, you know? She wouldn’t have said anything. I just know!” ...

Part 2: The Rubber Facility Chapter 7: Sealed The doll lays alone in the dark room, still gagged, plugged and chained to the rubber bed. Sore from the ravages of the clientele, it thinks back to before it had lost its identity. It was only the night before when they had met in that dingy bar, it seemed like so long ago, another life even. As it begins to relax and try to nod off to sleep, the door opens with a jolt and in walk thing 1 and 2, one of whom is carrying a clear pvc bag, folded neatly in his arms. As they approach, A speaker springs to life with a crackle, followed by Mistress’ s sultry voice. “you did very well on your first shift, but being a new toy and all, I think it’s only appropriate that you be stored in some nice plastic packaging”. As she speaks, the things unfasten the doll’s bindings, allowing it to lower its arms and close its legs. ...

Part 2 With the gravity of her situation sinking in, she began to tug on her restraints, Cass just smiled at her and said, “You know that’s not going to work, don’t you? And I can’t even get you out of them for 13 days with the keys inside of the box.” Ana turned and hobbled out of the room, trying to make her way to the front door, she was only a few feet outside of Cassandra’s room when she was shocked by all three devices. She screamed and fell to the floor, ...

Amanda was an attractive twenty something with a firm body, long red hair and pert breasts that were very sensitive. She loved exploring old buildings. She had always thought it was because she was fascinated by architecture and the way things were built but secretly she loved the idea of finding something exciting. Today she had found an abandoned house, built in the 1800’s, way back in a field. She had seen the house before but today she was determined to explore inside it and do some digging around. She had worn her normal exploring outfit, thick rubber thigh high platform boots and a pair of thick rubber shorts with large phalluses in both holes and a tight under breast corset. ...

Part 1 Ana knew that Cassandra would be out for the day, which meant she had hours to play around with Cassandra’s bondage gear. While Ana didn’t have any of her own, she would frequently ‘borrow’ Cass’s when she was away; being a part-time Dominatrix, Cass had plenty of gear on hand. She said goodbye to Cass as she left for the day to go hang out with a few friends. She listened intently for the ding of the elevator door opening down the hall; as soon as she heard it, she made her way to Cass’s room to begin sorting out the gear she would need. But not before catching a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror on the way by, her time at the gym was for sure paying off she thought to herself, it was important for someone in their late 20s to keep up with the gym to avoid health problems later…at least that’s what her trainer had told her. ...

2: Tea’s New Suit(s) Tea left the theater bitterly after she had received yet another refusal. This was already the eighth time this week and even the weather seemed to have conspired against her. Tea hadn’t made it halfway home when it started to rain and of course she didn’t bring an umbrella. She looked up at the sky, exhausted, and raindrops pelted her face. Tea exhaled heavily and muttered, “Typical.” ...

Part One “Hey Tess, lil’ service?” I automatically pulled a bottle of Bud from the ice, popped the cap and slid it to Jason. I was focused on the game, and frankly, I was scared shitless. I had been on a bad streak, losing games by a point and making foolish bets to make it back. Tonight was supposed to cover all my losses and more. I bet, I bet more than I could ever pay back if I lost, but the game was a sure thing! New York was a bunch of pussies! Chicago would easily cover the five point spread. ...

Chapter One Bonita threw the paper aside in disgust. “There’s nothing playing! Is our second date too early for me to tie you up and fuck your brains out?” I was about to mention wanting to see the new Pixar feature, when the second part of her speech reached my brain. There was a definite offer of sex, but there was also a condition. Don’t care. Want sex. “No, it’s not too early.” I answered. I’ve always had a way with words. ...

Chapter Seven Kelly was having trouble concentrating. She wasn’t sleeping well and there was a mild buzzing in her head. It was like having a song stuck there, but one you couldn’t completely hear. Of course Mistress Anna decided to give a pop quiz. There was only one question on her screen: “What is this restraint called?” Everyone in class knew it was a Strait Jacket, but only three of them knew not to spell it as “Straight.” Those lucky three would be bound in jackets and have their belts removed for ten minutes. ...

Chapter Eight Kelly knew she was trapped. She couldn’t refuse the offer, not that she really want to, but she had to remain in control. She asked herself, “What would Periwinkle do?” and immediately came up with the answer. Be Periwinkle. “So,” She said imitating Periwinkle’s accent, “Aincha got no more o’ dat horsey shit?” Mistress frowned briefly, then a smile spread across her face as she caught the reference.. “I’ve often thought you were too clever for your own good. It is nice to see that I was correct.” ...

Chapter Four On their way to the lunch room, the girls made a side trip to the ladies room for some private conversation. After introducing themselves and assuring that they were alone, they were ready to to compare experiences. But first, nature called. In her stall, Kelly pulled the shift over her head and examined the belt. It looked fairly simple: a band around her waist and another between her legs. There was a button-like cylinder sticking out a little ways, so she tried pushing it. ...

Chapter Nine The floor was sticky. It took Kelly a while to notice as her mind had taken a short vacation. Apparently there is a limit to how pleasure a body can take. At first the orgasm had been amazing and Kelly had wished they would never end. Her feelings turned to terror as it didn’t end. She was trapped in an endless cycle where her body spasmed as she came and came and….leaked. ...

Chapter 4 – Still a game? Alice slips into Sarah’s cell and locks the door behind her. To prepare Sarah for her punishment, she removes the chastity devices. With the chastity bra and belt off, Sarah feels a mix of relief and terror. Relief that the painful spikes pressing into her flesh are gone, and that she can finally breathe again, but terror at what is to come. Alice taunts Sarah, “Enjoy this moment while it lasts, Sarah, because after today you will be wearing this belt forever. You’ll never be able to satisfy your sinful desires again.” Alice’s taunts only serve to add to her fear, as Sarah realizes that this might be the last time she will not be wearing the chastity belt ever again. Sarah’s emotions are a jumbled mess as she waits for the next step in her punishment. ...

Chapter 2 – A game most serious The dungeon is dimly lit, and the walls are damp and cold, giving the girls a chill as they walk. Laura is acutely aware of the chains connecting their collars, which force them to move in unison. Jessica is tense and nervous, knowing that her friends’ fates are tied to her own. Sarah on the other hand is excited by the prospect of what is to come. As they walk, Alice instructs them to mind their footing and to remain silent, warning them not to disobey the rules of the dungeon. ...

Chapter 3 – Turning it up a notch Alice unlocks the chains wrapped around Laura’s waist and removes the cuffs from Laura’s ankles, allowing her to stand for the first time in what feels like hours. She then leads Laura to an empty area of the dungeon and secures her wrists in front of her with a short length of chain that is attached to the ceiling. As Alice tightens the chain, Laura feels the tension increase in her arms, until her feet are almost lifted off the ground. Laura feels a stretching sensation in her shoulders and arms as she is almost suspended from her wrists, making her feel vulnerable and exposed. ...

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. ...

Part 1 It was a Wednesday like any other, Sarah arose from a nice slumber and began getting ready for work, she had been doing the same thing day in and day out for the last 3 years. She’d gotten a job as an accountant working at her uncle’s company, it was decent enough pay to let Sarah fuel her fetish and still live comfortably, but she felt something was missing from the job. Sarah also liked to partake in her fetish on the weekends; she often liked to indulge herself (sometimes with one of her friends) in some bondage scenarios. She’d usually just do self-bondage and imagine a scene for herself such as damsel in distress, or the daughter of a millionaire who’d been kidnapped, but if a friend was around she’d let them ‘play’ too. ...

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. ...

Part 1 To spice up our sex life, my husband suggested that we try one of those sexbot kits that used to be available, and maybe still obtainable if you knew the right person. The original kits were banned from public sale after it was found that some unscrupulous people were misusing them to trap women into a life of robotic sexual slavery. So while I was willing to give it a try, I like sex and would try anything once (or twice), I knew that it would be nearly impossible to find one of those kits nowadays. ...

Part 2: Three Guys and a Pizza Now that the machine had prepared me, I was sent out on my first time in my new role as a pleasurebot. My now enhanced body is ready to provide pleasure to whatever the paying customer required of me. My mind was programmed with the knowledge required to fulfil their desires, however perverse they may be, I was here to provide them with a service, and though I may have baulked at whatever they wanted me to do for them as a woman, now that I was a pleasurebot I would have to comply. ...

After getting my degree in humanities, I found that the paper that it was printed on was worthless and that I had wasted my time with the three years it took to get my degree. All I had left to show for it was a large student debt that I now needed to pay off on top of my everyday living expenses; that and no real employment prospects in the current climate. ...

Prologue: Reflection It sits alone in a dark room, on a bed adorned with rubber sheets, illuminated only by the red glow of the neon sign buzzing outside the window. It reflects on how it got to this point, how mistress had decided it was no longer deserving of being referred to as “him.” At a glance, one would have trouble even discerning whether it was a him. The head-to-toe black rubber, silicone breast inserts, thigh-length, glossy, high-heeled boots and cute, pink latex dress obfuscated it’s true…or rather previous nature. The only hint to its biological gender being a rubber-sheathed cock, throbbing beneath the ruffled skirt of its pink latex dress. ...

It was a typical Friday in the office, and I have been working for Dr Stones for nearly a year now as his receptionist, doing the filing, typing letters and invoices and general office stuff, while also arranging his list of clients. His office is generally busy at the beginning of the week but tails off at the end, and usually, by Friday most of the work is done before lunchtime, so the afternoon is generally quiet. ...

Chapter 1.) Waking Up E-14 woke up with a pounding headache, a demanding horny pulsing in her loins, and her entire body aching. Everything felt kind of weird and hazy, and she didn’t want to open her eyes just yet. Slowly stretching, she noticed a crackling sound and felt straw pinching against her belly and breast. But then she also noticed she couldn’t feel her arms nor remember… anything. Where was she? Who was she? She kind of felt like her name was “E-14”, but that wasn’t a real name, or was it? She tried to remember, but it was hard to concentrate. ...

Normally, one had to unwrap a meal before consumption. Today was the opposite. Not that there’d be any ‘eating’, per se. The magical latex serpent that slithered in languid motions was not capable of consuming or digesting living matter. But it was capable of extracting things. Thoughts. Willpower. Emotion. The black snake-golem could wick away the ability to resist, boiling it away like water in a pot. It could wring the life and resistance from unwilling (or occasionally willing) victims. The results would be a person full of vim and vigor and energy, and utterly lacking in the ability to do anything other than to submit to their owner’s will. ...

Part Two – The New Rubberslave (The New Assistant) After I had accidentally walked in on my boss Mr. Soames playing with his rubber-clad doll, I had tried to not only keep my job but also to please him had tried on the same outfit that the doll was wearing, plus I must admit that I was wondering to myself as I looked at the doll bound there, just what it would have been like to be dressed like her. Agreeing to try on the latex catsuit, which I found that I enjoyed wearing, this, in turn, led to me wearing the boots, corset, and the hood that the doll was wearing. Now that I was dressed the same, I found myself highly aroused and asked him to bind me in the same way that the doll had been; I loved every minute of it. But that’s when things started to change… ...

It was early on a wet wintry evening on a quiet residential street in a middle class suburb. A solitary house owner was walking home to the two bedroom cottage in which she lived alone. This was Agnes Allen, a divorcee who had passed her fiftieth birthday just three months before. She was slightly above average height, fit, trim, healthy and had an athletic carriage. She was passably attractive with an oval face, framed with short straight brown hair. People who knew her thought of her as quiet, not greatly assertive and good at her job. She was a librarian who worked at a local Council branch library. Of late the likelihood of a transfer to a distant branch was causing her some concern. It would involve a difficult and lengthy commute. ...

Saturday nights have been poker night for the neighborhood “boys” for years. But the gang keeps decreasing until finally only two of the men would meet. Mitzi came into the basement to check to see if the guys wanted drinks and asked her husband Hank why he has never asked her or Fred’s wife Mandy if they wanted to play poker and make a foursome. Hank and Fred thought for a minute, “Do you girls think you know enough about how to play poker to make the games interesting?” ...

Part 1 “What time is it?” I asked sleepily, turning over and half opening my eyes. The sunlight was streaming in through the gap in the curtains lighting up the old oak beams and the wobbly walls. Our lovely cottage dates back to the 18th century and sits surrounded by fields overlooking open countryside. “Seven thirty,” replied Alice, sounding all wide awake. I groaned and half sat up, clattering the handcuffs against each other as I did so. Our bedroom exertions often ended up in me restricted in some way or other for the rest of the night. Having my hands cuffed in front of me was a modest form of nightly constraint compared to some of the restraints Alice imposed on me. ...

Jackson Miller leans forward across his desk and smiles his most reassuring smile, trying to get his guest to talk. “We will need to know your fantasies, Brandon. Your wildest fantasy, ideally, but at the very least a scenario that you want to see realised.” The kid – late teens, probably, 20 at a push – looks embarrassed. “There is nothing Dr Alexander and I haven’t heard yet, I can assure you,” Jackson says in a soothing tone. “And there is almost nothing that we won’t be able to make happen for you.” ...

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. ...

Hailey looked at her reflection in the full length mirror and smiled. She looked as if ready to conquer a new continent. Not that she would of course, wars and conquest were silly things that had no place in the modern world. It was after all the start of the 20th century, a time to explore new ideas. A time to push boundaries and question old ways of thinking. Considering herself an advocate of the modern age, Hailey was not your average 22 year old by any means, especially for a woman. Sole child to Sir Thomas Kennedy she had been brought up in a household of abundant excess. Her father had been on the forefront in the steelworks industry and both owned and ran the nation’s largest, most acclaimed one. Some would even say it was the best steelworks in the world. Hailey had, since an early age, been tutored by her mother until the age of 12, at which time her mother had sadly succumbed to smallpox. ...

Part Three Three weeks had passed since Kirsty’s labia had been punctured with her ten grommets and rings and they had healed well, with constant ministrations from Matron and some slaves. The grommets had been regularly treated with salves and ointments and there was little pain left; the redness had died down and Kirsty was a lot more comfortable. Shaving down there was a difficult and tedious affair now, but with help from other slaves it was possible to do a clean job. The rings through the grommets gleamed and when Kirsty walked they chimed and clattered together; Kirsty was not going to sneak up on anyone anytime soon. All her rubber suits had been modified to ensure that her cunt and rings were always visible. ...

Part Two ML said nothing more that afternoon, she had just pressed her lips once more to Kirsty’s then walked off. Kirsty wondered about what she had heard. Was My Lady really to become a Madam and if so, how had that come about, and more interestingly, why now? Where did this leave Kirsty? While she realised she could have no friends here, she needed someone to relate to even if they were superior to her; which of course everyone was. Was ML just playing a game or did she have a thing for her. She thought ML was about providing for her but now it seems SHE had been provided FOR her. Was this the real reason she had been invited along, to be someone’s personal slave? Kirsty had assumed she was to be a general purpose dogsbody with no decisions to make, a human robot to be instructed to do anything by anybody but with no will of her own. ...

Part One Arrival The car with the blacked-out windows had been waiting for her when she left the station. A chauffeur in a dark uniform opened the rear door for her after confirming her name, Kirsty Rackham; he said nothing else. She got in, the door closed and lights came on enabling her to see the sumptuous leather seating. The windows were blacked-out and there was an opaque panel that prevented her seeing the driver or where they were going and the only thing in the rear seat was a current national newspaper which Kirsty glanced at during what she guessed was a journey of about forty minutes. She knew only her destination railway station but nothing more about the establishment to which she was headed. She was acutely aware that the whole journey to this point had been carried out with her wearing only a short coat and a pair of shoes and any breeze reminded her of her newly shaved privates. With her attractive face and blonde, bobbed hair, her fairly obvious lack of clothing and court shoes, she met with many sideways glances from newspaper-reading businessmen and disapproving women during her journey; it was a relief to be in the relative safety of the car. This was how she had been ordered to travel and, with trepidation, she had carried out the instructions to the letter. ...

Susan Johnson was a partner in a company that sold household robots to do the cleaning and menial housework for their owners. Being one of the most successful robot manufacturers in the field, she was aware of most of the advancements in the field of robots. However, on more than a few occasions she had heard of a local establishment which were now called “Personal Entertainment Centres,” but which were effectively old-style brothels that were using some sort of advanced robot dolls as pleasure bots for customers. The description of these bots was that they were not at all like robots but were soft to the touch and would react to vocal commands, which was something her company had been trying to do but without any success. So she decided she had to find out more and had hatched a plan to do just this. ...

Episode 1 I couldn’t believe this. I couldn’t believe I was standing in front of the Critter Squad barrack. Silver, Nekko, Jaina, and Hacksaw, my heroines, were probably inside and only a rusty garage door separated us. My shaky hands were holding my application form with my passport picture attached to it with a paperclip. My eyes moved in every direction, scanning the paper, ensuring I didn’t miss a field or identify anything that would make them reject me. They didn’t ask for much detail, so I wasn’t quite sure what their selection process was, but if I could, at the very least, provide everything they had asked in a decent manner, I wouldn’t be too disappointed with myself following a rejection. ...

Cowhood 43 skittered through the barn, her cloven hooves finding little grip on the straw scattered over the wood floor. Her fingers were already beginning to ache, wedged into the narrow hoof gloves, but she was used to aches by now. It wasn’t until she was out of the barn being led across the barnyard by one of the milk maids, possibly 18 or 22, until she realized she wasn’t bitted or blinkered. ...

Being a store manager at the Gynoids R’ Us store at the age of twenty two wasn’t the worst job in the world. Free access to Cybernetic upgrades, getting two breaks and a lunch for just working seven and a half hours. The coworkers, with one exception, were easy to get along with. I had an assistant manager, and two supervisors beneath me, with seven employees below that with two store cleaning MaidBots and one store AssistantBot to assist with training, and helping me and the rest of management keep on top of sales numbers. The exception was Jimmy, my assistant salesman and stocker who had originally been a cashier when he started while I had been the assistant store manager. Who I could not fire because his sales were always so high, along with his excellent customer service reviews by our clients, and he was always on time as he was never late but early for his shifts. ...

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 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… ...

I regained awareness slowly. I was lying down on some type of small bed. I couldn’t see or hear anything, but my body was still shuddering with the remnants of an orgasm, along with vague, half-remembered fantasies. I was covered entirely in latex, and that was delicious, but it was time to get up. I reached up with a sweaty hand and grabbed the reversible tab of the zipper, pulled it down. I wiggled myself free from the latex sleepsack, somewhat reluctant to leave the latex cocoon. I slowly sat on my cot, feet touching the cool tiles of the floor. I took off the eyeless hood of my smooth head - not a single hair there - and darkness remained. It was always pitch black. I couldn’t remember when I had last seen light. ...

Renewal “Now, 43, about your renewal…” Master stopped at the stall door, the clipboard full of documents in his hand, looking at the tablet attached to the back and smiling. Across from us, the new girl twisted and stamped, the chastity crushing her, the motion of the tormentor between her legs moving the intruder raping her ass and the plume of her tail constantly. I could hear but not see my sisters in the surrounding stalls, trying to move as little as possible, making no noise that would incur his punishment. ...

He seemed very charming – unfailingly polite, just up to the edge of flirting, never quite crossing it. Eye contact always, except when she’d bent over to pick up the coaster she’d dropped. And when she caught him at that, he just winked at her, very secure in himself; never a question there would be any awkwardness in being caught. When he asked her to come back with him it really wasn’t a question. She’d been enthralled by his easy-going manner and was anxious to find out exactly how nice he could be. The hotel was suave and she felt exceptionally glamorous on his arm walking through the posh lobby in her cocktail dress, on the arm of such a handsome suit. ...

“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. ...

Jenna sits, nervous but resolute, waiting in the dog park as he approaches. It didn’t matter what he said online, she is determined to be resolute. Being in public would help with that, she’s sure. “Even if it would be fun to submit,” Jenna thinks to herself; “but I can’t let him think I’m not capable of resisting. He’d never let me live it down.” And why was that thought so hot? Anyway, not this time. Be strong. If he’s everything he says, plenty of time later. ...

I’m the strongest girl at school. I’m not a bully, mind! If anything, I’m pretty much the opposite. I don’t go around looking for a fight; I haven’t tested my mettle against other girls, I don’t go out of my way to punch the boys. But Liberty Heights is a cruel school, where the strong routinely prey on the weak, and the teachers turn a blind eye just as frequently. Which is why I’m happy to cultivate my reputation as Irene the butch, the weird goth you shouldn’t mess with. ...

“This seems like a weird set-up.” I mused. Said setup being a hollow wooden table with a ramp allowing my thighs and mound and tits to rest above the table. The top of the table had holes for them and the underside had foam in the shape of a body, I judged it’d press me rather tightly. “It’ll all make sense after it’s finished, strip and get in.” Mysterious. Is he trying to scare me because it’s Halloween? ...

Sarah had recently inherited an old cottage after her auntie had passed away. It needed some work to fix it up but it was just the break she needed to get onto the property ladder. She hadn’t known her auntie well, mainly that she lived a secluded life and apart from Christmas and birthday cards, she never really saw her. Sarah was in her twenties and single. She was pretty with a sexy body but seemed unable to find her perfect man. ...

Beth followed Ashley through the hallway to the school gymnasium, where Marcus and some of the other seniors were working on their project for the annual Halloween Haunt House. Beth asked, “So, what are Marcus and the others working on in there anyway?” “It was Marcus’s idea,” Ashley replied. “They’re doing a spooky Egyptian Tomb complete with mummies and stuff. Marcus said the concept was that it’s the resting place of an ancient Pharaoh and his concubines.” ...

“Honey, we need to talk.” The words sent ice down my spine. “Go ahead.” I said feeling like I was facing the firing squad wondering what I did wrong. “Remember last year’s Halloween?” What- Oh. Shit. “I remember it.” “I know you do, you still have the pictures don’t you?” “Yes I saved a few.” Hundred. “So I’ve kept my end of the deal, I was the honey bun hair slave to your star warrior-” ...

Part 2: Erin I stared at my phone, grimacing at the mailbox. Nothing…precisely what I got last time I tried talking to the police. With a pained sigh, I stopped pacing about my gloomy studio apartment and tossed the thing on the tattered, maybe second-hand couch next to the waiting maidbot skin. “I guess I’m doing this,” I told myself, looking at the mocha skin waiting to be filled. But not yet. There were things I could do, things that needed doing which would also delay the inevitable. Turning my attention to the watch I bought yesterday, I swiped and tapped my way through the unfamiliar 3D interface projected in front of me until a small cube appeared in the lower left filled with a bust of myself. The red recording light began blinking. I probably should have put something on besides the lavender cami, but whatever. It was morning. ...

It was all part of the deal I had with her. Or what remained of her. I got the handsome men into her room, into her bed, then made them horny as hell, leaving the rest to her. What did I get out of the deal? Well, let us just say, a certain satisfaction and the occasional physical favour that a girl just could not bear to turn down. He was lying in the bed, watching my back as if hypnotised. I was wearing my tightest little black skirt, sheer black tights and patent black heels that made my legs look incredible. They were good anyway, but in those heels they could stop traffic. I had opened a couple of the top buttons of my crisp white blouse so every time I breathed deeply my breasts heaved in a manner calculated to reduce any man (and quite a few women in my experience) to tears. ...

“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. ...

Part 3. Sharks and Fire “I have never really been an exhibitionist. It feels a little weird to be this exposed heading to a group of people.” Emma spoke with a slight bit of concern. Ophelia walked next to her, bursting out laughing. As she calmed down she spoke, “You realize my Unicorn that you wore much less than you currently are to our performance. Sure the latex is see-through to a degree but still opaque. But you have a dress on this time. Earlier you just had a corset, chastity belt, stockings, and boots. Oh and a sexy fucking tail. Too bad you couldn’t wear it with this. But people could still see more flesh clearly earlier and a whole lot more when my Unicorn was on display. Maybe you feel more exposed as your head is uncovered.” ...

Cindy had sort of run away from home, she was twenty-three years old and felt just because she looked much younger didn’t give her daddy the right to treat her like a little girl. She had only been in the city once before having lived in the small farming community all her life so when she decided to leave her parents home after another fight about her coming home late there wasn’t much of a plan. She had started falling asleep an hour ago pulling over at the first hotel she spotted and even with her extremely limited experience she didn’t think this looked like a good place. “It’s only for one night” she muttered to herself as she parked her shiny little car, having always kept it spotless and running perfectly. ...

The class had ended an hour before, and I’d made a complete fool of myself. First off, I’d come into my psychology class a half hour late, looking like something out of a thrift shop. Then, I’d sounded like a shrill windbag arguing with my instructor on her theme of “Dominance in Everyday Life.” So the instructor called me into her office for a discussion. “Well Helen,” she began, “I don’t know why you caused me so much trouble today,” said Dr. Terrel. The woman was still attractive and slim well into her forties. ...

Chloe, Sara, and six of the other girls all picked me up and carried me downstairs. I struggled against them and tried to get the duct tape off of my mouth. I would tell them how sorry I was and just be done with it. I was just pissed off, and I shouldn’t have said what I said. Even though I was clearly still the best person to be team captain and I hadn’t been that mean to any of them, it wasn’t worth whatever they were about to do to me. ...

Janet strutted in her towering high heels enjoying the restriction of the long extremely tight skirt smiling as it reduced her steps to mere inches. The bra she was wearing forced her ample breasts up and out giving her huge cleavage and leaving her pert nipples just below the fabric line. Her hands stroked her toned stomach through the shoulder length latex gloves squeaking slightly as she stroked herself as she walked. Around her throat was a two inch wide stainless steel choker that she loved how tight it fit her and the feeling she got when she squeezed it tight around her neck hearing the lock snap closed. It normally took her a few minutes for the feeling of being slowly strangled to pass but she found she enjoyed those feelings as well. Sometimes Janet would spend hours strutting around her house wishing she had the nerve to actually wear any of her “Sexy” clothes in public even though most of them would be considered close to normal for some people. ...

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. ...

How It Came To Be “Is it true, Paula? You came here, to the Center, by choice?” The question came from Trina, the most recent addition to the circle of friends. The two women had something in common. Katrina, Trina for short, had also started her life at the Center as a willing if uninformed participant. The dinner conversation had turned to early days at the Center, a safe topic since they weren’t in the secure area. Paula and Big Mike, her master, were the earliest arrivals at the Center among the group sitting around the table. Paula looked a question at Big Mike, silently seeking permission to answer. ...

My sleep that night was far from restful. The Kennel was chilly, and I came half-awake many times as the lights flickered on as some group or another came or went. Twice I woke up thrashing at a bug that had wandered onto my face or belly, and there was always some noise from other girls doing the same. I’d had to piss in the middle of the night, too, crawling into the corner to avoid getting it on the girl in the cage under mine. So whenever I was woken up, it would have been too early. But I was pretty sure it was also, objectively, too early. ...

Hi my name is Ashley and I have something to get off my chest. I’m a member of my college volleyball team and I recently learned the meaning of karma. I’m a freshman girl this year and our team just won our state championship for the first time in years! I was known as one of the more ambitious girls on the team, and routinely declared that I’d like to become team captain once I’m an upperclassman, which is why for the last year, I acted bossy around my teammates and often stood my ground in arguments with team members even once I knew I lost. ...

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. ...

Part One - The Bet Daisy snorted. “There’s just no hope for the future of the straights. Pure vanilla. Boring in every way. People like us are progressive. Creative. We’re the future. The past couldn’t accept women loving other women like I do, so we got creative and fought back. Every woman I’ve been with has told me she never experienced a true orgasm until she was with another woman who actually understood her biology. Hetero relationships will simply die out eventually if they can’t figure out something as simple as pleasing a woman.” ...

Kylie was shuffling down the sidewalk admiring the woman in front of her walking perfectly in the platform ballet boots. The rubber the woman was wearing hugged her perfectly shining like it was black glass. Kylie fought the chains her sister kept her locked into, wishing she hadn’t agreed to be under her full control. The year was 2043; fetish of all kinds were now fully accepted by society, bondage fetish had become the most popular. Now you see more people in public bound and gagged than not, almost everyone wears something fetish. ...

CHAPTER TWO I THOUGHT I was blind when I woke up, but I quickly realized it was just that my eyes were covered. I was lying on a thin foam mat, covered in plastic and thin enough I could feel the concrete floor through it. I groped around in a panic, only to realize my wrists were cuffed together with a thick but light metal chain about a foot long. ...

I just can’t believe how innocently this all started. My name is Honey Fleming. I’m 5’ 7” tall with short blonde hair and when this all started, I was 22. I’ve been told I’m very attractive, but I found that I prefer my own sex. Possibly this is due to the fact that I was nearly raped when in my teens and since then I find myself avoiding male company. ...

CHAPTER ONE “ONE CAR IN the driveway,” Chantrea whispered from her perch in the tall grasses to my right. I nodded. The red Mercedes - a midlife crisis car if I’d ever seen one - was parked in the well-lit driveway of the sprawling exurban home. The BMW, the wife’s car, had been away since the afternoon. “No security system you could see?” she asked for maybe the third time. ...

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. ...

…“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? ...

It should be noted, before we start, that Anise wouldn’t normally be seen dead on this side of town. She had standards. Against the dark alleyways and industrial buildings of the east side, her outfit stuck out like a sore thumb. That was, of course, only part of the reason for her nervousness. Squinting at the discreet business card in her hand, for what must have been the hundredth time, she tried to persuade herself that she must be in the right place. The unit number matched that on the card, but the clue she had been hoping for as to what lay inside was notably absent. The card itself was no help, simply a name and an address. No phone number, no website, no title. Nor was the hand-written message on the back, burned into her brain from reading and re-reading. ...

Part 4: Bend and Stretch “Mom, it looks like so much fun, so Renee and I wondered; would it if be alright if we got tied up?” Later: The girls had wanted bondage; they were getting it in spades. My mind was still a bit fuzzy, but I had a perfect view of all the activities going on in the room, as I was standing, strung up and eagle-spread, to the two massive posts at the foot of the bed, facing the mattress and the rest of the suite. It was uncomfortable, of course, but the women had it worse. ...

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. ...

Jeff couldn’t believe how many people were walking around in the ‘Bot Suits’. Must be every other person, he thought to himself as he sat waiting for the traffic light to change. The suits had exploded into the public a few years ago claiming to assist the person with everyday life but everyone knew the draw was the way the suits could enhance a person’s orgasms. The suit’s sensors and tactile improvements on the wearer were legendary; having seen the results himself he couldn’t deny how the women he knew acted as the suit sent them to multiple orgasms. ...

It was early evening on a late Autumn day. Marcia was walking home to her cottage at the end of a quiet suburban street in a good suburb. There was a low ridge behind it, on which a state of the art business complex had recently been built. This was reputed to be the hub of a very important international finance corporation. Marcia was just turned forty, of middle height, athletically slim with a narrow face, pointed chin and short, straight dark brown hair worn in a severe, page boy cut. Tertiary educated, she worked as a systems analyst in a nearby regional suburb. She wore a neat two piece business suit, hat and gloves and carried a leather handbag. ...

“…Why do I have to do it Jackie?” Roger whined. “Because you won the poll we girls took, your height and size works for this too, and last but not least it was your girlfriend that bailed on us at the last minute.” I was the official leader of the group - at least for the first phase - I had made the arrangements, had arranged for the small bus that would drop us off at the entry point, and I had the hiking charter to access the land we were to use in my name. Everything was arranged, but I should have known better than to include a boyfriend-girlfriend combo in the mix. Second year college students aren’t known for stable relationships, so this one was on me, but at least all of us were friendly enough with each other. ...

I was so late. I pushed open the salon door with a shove from my elbow and stumbled inside, out of the pouring rain. The unique aroma of strongly scented hair care products mixed with shampoos filled the air. “Sorry I’m late,” I mumbled, trying hard to conceal my nervousness. She was dressed with a shiny loose fitting black blouse complete with ever so tight leather leggings. Dark brown shoulder length hair, with her lower face covered by a black face mask. Her overall appearance was sinister, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. ...

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. ...

I sit down at the bar, completely downtrodden by another year of failure in the romance department. I see something in the corner of my eye and I turn around to see the hottest woman I’ve ever been in the same room as in my entire life. As a gentleman I feel I must start with her face. It is round, plump is a better word. It is cute but her eyes hold a fiery, predatory passion. Now for the part I am really focusing on. Her massive K-Cup tits that are trying to rip apart her low-cut red dress. I try to keep my cool as I approach her. ...

As she lay defeated for the last hours of her selfbondage she thinks about when it was enough to just tie herself in a nice hogtie and struggle for a little while before cumming. Now it takes computer-controlled vibrators and tens pads while she is bound more stringently than ever and even then her orgasm could be ruined with a stray thought. The aches in her wrists and jaw are starting to distract her but she felt thankful her legs had gone numb sometime ago. She squeals loudly under the hood covering the massive head harness sealing the huge ball in her mouth as the tens clamps glued to her pinched nipples come alive again followed closely by the pads on her ass and the soles of her feet. ...

Sarah had completely lost all track of time by now. She had absolutely no idea how long she’d been tied up. She had seen lots of images of people (usually women) bound and gagged, on TV and in the movies and so on. To be honest, the sight had sent a delicious shiver down her spine a time or two, and she had idly wondered what it might feel like, to be bound and gagged and helpless. But she had never imagined that it might actually happen to her, in her own home. ...

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. ...

Mary was really excited. She had finally gotten a grant to study the disappearance of a colony that settled on the island she now stood on. The Polynesian Island was densely forested but mapped by satellites so she had no problem locating the site of the old colony. The colony was located near a stream where it entered the ocean. It only took the boat crew an hour to unload her equipment and help her to set up her base camp next to the beach, just inside the tree line, about a quarter of a mile from the colony. Once everything was ready and the radio was checked the crew left her alone on the island. They were scheduled to return in 2 weeks to pick her up. ...

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. ...

Center Express Trina, short for Katerina, stole a glance at the guard sitting next to her. He seemed to be bored; that was understandable considering how many times he must have traveled this road. Bored but always alert, she noticed when he sat up in swift reaction to her sidelong peek. On the job as well, as Trina discovered when he reached behind her back to check on the handcuffs. ...

Cody was walking home from his job at the hardware store when his phone ran. Seeing it was Hannah, the teenager didn’t hesitate to answer it. However before he could say anything, he could hear the girl crying on the other end. “I will be right over,” Cody tried to say over the girl’s crying before he hung-up and began running to her house. Cody was extremely fit and had always excelled at athletics in high school, so the two-mile run to Hannah’s house barely caused him to sweat until the last mile. ...

The Thrift Store Part 1 I’m building up the nerve to try to take some new pics tonight for my favorite crossdressing chat room and I want to look sexy. Wearing my stretch lycra pink panties under my regular men’s clothes, I decided to head off to the thrift store to look for a new dress. It’s usually empty in there and the counter guy is usually oblivious to what his patrons are buying there anyway, at least in my experiences there. ...

Another morning that the two dressers barge in. Large muscular chaps doing their work, one cell at a time. They are casually dressed, t-shirt and jeans, and stone-faced professional. As they approach, they don’t interact or even look at the prisoner. They just loudly barge in and prepare another slave for their day of hell. Of course, they didn’t wake him; he never really slept that deeply.. Not locked to the posture rack overnight every night. ...

…“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.” ...

“Have trouble sleeping? Ever see someone be put under hypnosis and wish ‘god, if only it were that easy’? Do you ever get jealous of how easy Kaa puts Mowgli to sleep in The Jungle Book? Well fret not. You can now have that too. “Introducing the Slumber Snake! The newest innovation from your friends at TMMF Industries. Her coils are padded with the latest in memory foam technology to wrap you in a soft yet weighted cocoon to provide instant and unrelenting comfort from start to finish. Her eyes light up with proprietary LED innovations to bypass your conscious mind to instantly, naturally, and completely put you to sleep. Bad dreams? Not with Slumber Snake! Dreamcatcher mode gently puts you into a hypnotic trance which completely recreates all the benefits of sleep while guiding the mind on a self-chosen fantasy. ...

Clerk Janet May and store manager Jack Offutt had a quiet day at the shoe store. Few customers have been in since opening. The light work day gave these two young employees time to enjoy each other. During lunch break they would lock the door and place a sign, “back in 30 minutes” on the glass and have an enjoyable sexual romp. This would give them enough time to have a “quickie” or a blow job before the store reopened from lunch. Of course, 10 minutes before closing time, two customers decided to shop. ...

August tried not to panic. He really did. The thought of being found like this made that nearly impossible. The sun would be rising soon. The residents of this little apartment building would soon be coming out to start their days. When they did, they would see him wrapped to this support beam. They would also see that he was totally naked. The door across from him began to open. He whimpered through his gag, terrified what her reactions might be. She stepped out rubbing her eyes. ...

My story is about scratching that itch of bondage. I have had this itch since as long as I can remember. I did my share of self bondage, tied people up, and always I was trying to imagine myself as the damsel in distress and envied those who were confident wearing female attire and braving the outside. So I was single for a while with no real good bondage prospects, made a few mistakes and visited a few mistresses, but really it was more awkward than satisfying. I only wanted to dress up when I was in bondage, after wearing women’s clothing for a while, the thrill leaves and it is like wearing any type of clothing, so I guessed I am not a transvestite, only a crossdresser for the purposes of bondage. I have tried to talk to a therapist about my bondage and crossdressing proclivities, but even breaching the topic was met with astonishment and started to feel “labeled” as a pervert; something I have been called for a great deal of my life with rejection of dates or bondage partners. ...

The porch light flicked off. The lady of the house blew out the candle in the jack o’ lantern. She stretched theatrically, making sure her pronounced breasts were visible poking out of the tiny nightie she wore that night. It was old and barely fit her. It didn’t even try to cover her ass. She smiled, knowing she had shoved it up into the air proudly when she took care of the pumpkin. ...

Chapter 5: The Person and the Petgirl Lisa thought to herself that she would rather be anywhere but on display at the annual dog show. But there was nothing she could do about it. Lisa sat on all-fours on her table and submitted in silence to the primping of her handler. Her handler. Lisa winced. She wished that the people running the show had chosen someone else. Her only hope was that it would all be over soon and that Miss would return to take her home. The crowds surrounded Lisa and the real dogs that were on the other tables, but it was her that everyone was staring at. She tried not to pay attention to the fragments of conversation that rose above the roar of the audience. ...

The electric blue BMW convertible pulled up before the old salt box home. The woman who stepped out brushed the wrinkles from her impeccably tailored white business suit. She looked at the house. Its unkempt yard full of weeds and peeling paint made her smile. Expensive heels clicked on the cracked walkway up to the house. She rang the bell and waited patiently for the old man to answer the door. Perhaps he’s changed his mind, she thought. I might have to have the police drag him out after all. Although it would make a scene, it would delight her to see the troublesome old man humiliated in front of his neighbors. ...

Burt had no idea how he ended up in a room with his former teacher, half-naked and dressed like a sexy clown. He had just been going to the fair with his pals Trevor, Sam, Nico, and Mikey. The others dragged him into this funhouse run by a group of sexy clown ladies. You had to run from one end to the other. Going room to room, players were knocked out until only one remained. That player, who turned out to be Burt somehow, won the grand prize. He had no idea what it was only that it was sexual. His busty former heath teacher was a surprise for both of them. ...

Part 4: Till Death Do Us Part Alexis woke with a start. She saw immediately that she was in her own bedroom. But that was where the normalcy ended. A muzzle gag was strapped across her mouth. She could feel the hard ball on the inside of it between her teeth. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the leather straps that ran up either side of her nose and over her head. Alexis tried pushing the ball out with her tongue but it was strapped in tight. ...

It wasn’t too far into the future, and multinational corporations were pushing for productivity improvements as well as better control of their company secrets. It was such a competitive world. Some time ago, Biodyn Corp had come up with an android that could house human consciousness. There were various ethical and safety issues to work through but eventually it became a mainstream product. Odd ones made their way into the hands of ’enthusiasts’, but the majority were sold to factories. ...

“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. ...

Goth Curious The girl knew not what caused her midnight stirrings. She only knew that when she awoke her nipples were hard and her pussy dripping. No matter how much work her fingers did they could not quench her. Why was she so fucking horny? Being as quiet as she could so as not to wake her roommate she climbed out of her bed. She had to leave. Where? She didn’t know. She just had to go. ...

…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. ...

…October thirty first, Halloween, a pagan holiday ironically enough, and here I am doing collections again, in the damn suburbs, but for the evil dark one himself this time. Ten years for one of us is usually nothing but the blink of an eye, but for you mortals it seems like forever, REALLY? At least this one is highly, highly attractive, dare I even say hot, although I know in hell that can be an overused term. And, her whiny bitch of a “husband,” the one that struck the original deal with the dark one in the first place; he’s so deserving of his fate. ...

Marcy was fumbling with her car keys when she first saw the women in silver. It had been a long day at the office, with little chance for fun. She had considered at least doing a simple Halloween costume for work, perhaps an Alice in Wonderland thing to suit her blond hair and blue eyes, but a dull morning meeting had forced her to dress professionally. However, as distracted as Marcy was by thoughts of her wretched day at work, she could hardly have failed to notice the two women making their way through the parking lot. ...

Lisa I glanced at my phone, checking the time. Time…precisely what Erin and I were running out of. Not that repeatedly verifying that fact helped. Looking around at the decrepit walls of our rented bathroom, now covered in a layer of chicken wire, I wondered if this was enough. “You don’t have to do this,” Erin said, pointedly turning dark brown eyes towards my phone. She did not, however, let go of the chicken wire. “In fact, that sounds like a much better idea.” ...

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. ...

She explains to the Halloween party how she got her slaves. ‘Twas the night of Halloween and all through the house, half naked people gyrated and thrusted to the beat. The annual party was well underway. Paradoxically it had also not begun. How could it? The party never truly began until Libby arrived. “Libby?” Taylor asked as he sipped on his drink, “Pharmacy Libby?” He was having trouble picturing it. True, he had only worked at the store for a few months now. Still, it felt ridiculous to think of the quiet little tech being the life of any party. ...

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 1: The Slave Fair I told myself that never in a million years would I ever go to one of these types of events. Oh sure I had heard of slave fairs and auctions and even services that dealt with the training and modification of cunts, but I always told myself that had nothing to do with me and nothing good would come from being anywhere near those things, and yet here I was, standing smack in the middle of it with no idea what on Earth could have possibly made me think that this was somehow a good idea. ...

Seasonal work on a cruiser boat turned out to be quite a repetitive enterprise. After a few days of cruising tourists along the shore, I was bored out of my skull. Bikini girls brightened up my mood somewhat, but they didn’t visit the boat often enough, favouring luxury yachts, and the constant stream of “all-inclusive” people mashed up in the solid mass of bodies smelling of booze and cheap perfume. I had no options but this summer contract, there was no other job for me. My ship was laid up for a few months, some legal issues with the cargo or something. ...

Five hundred points promises the advert. One month of work, room and board included. Keep any points you earn on the side. Not a bad deal you think. Almost too good to be true. But you’ve got a friend to buy, a slave who works at the local jeweler. She’s prettier than you, but you’re certain you can make a good duo; offer yourselves up to a green little lordling or some new to the business Mistress and bring in a haul of points. Trained pairs are ‘in’ right now. And who knows? Maybe if you earn enough extra while working here you could buy her and a slave to compliment, then sell them both and come out on top. Endless possibilities… as long as you have the money. ...

Harriet Chase lived in a well appointed two bedroom apartment in a good inner city suburb. It was on the first floor of a five floor residential building which was home to about sixty other people. Harriet was fifty two, trim, healthy and firmly built with a solid face framed by slightly wavy dark brown hair. She smiled easily and was generally considered a pleasant person. She was a specialised computer expert and held an important managerial job with a national computer research firm. The work she did, the high standard equipment she used, gave her access to an incredible range of information. And she took full advantage of this. For personal as well as professional reasons. ...

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.” ...

…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 4: Obedience Training After a lengthy court fight, Lisa had finally won out. She was still working on a way to get her poodle costume off, but she was hopeful that she’d eventually find a solution. As a long, stressful day turned to evening, Lisa cut through the park on her way home. Her poodle wig bobbed as she walked down the deserted path. Lisa shivered, both from nerves and the cold. It was dark now, and her fur covered bra and panties didn’t provide much warmth. Or much dignity. As she hurried through the empty park, her breasts bouncing with every step, Lisa was painfully aware of how her costume put her body on display…and how vulnerable it made her. ...

OK, I admit, it, it is all my fault. I got myself into this situation and it has all gotten rather out of hand. Gloriously so I admit, but still out of hand. It seemed like such a good idea at the time. She was quite the sexiest thing I had ever seen. Barely four foot six in her flat shoes she was straight out of an Indian picture book. Lovely tanned skin, huge brown eyes and a wide mouth that always seemed to be smiling at me. Thick black hair that fell all the way to the upper slopes of her tight little buttocks, and a waist that was so tiny it looked as if it had been squeezed by giant hands. And where those mystic hands had been squeezing the surplus material had moved upwards to equip her with generous breasts and down to form womanly hips just made for handling. ...

“Everyone has a secret life. Right?” My friends look at me like I just ate a bug or something. For a few moments there’s silence, interrupted only by the crackle of firewood. Then Lena bursts laughing and others follow, timidly and unsure. “What?” I ask. I’m genuinely baffled by their reaction. “Well,” says Lena, looking around as if for support, “I suppose, everyone has some secrets that they would be reluctant to share. But I wouldn’t call it ‘a secret life’. You sound like a spy, and not a very good one. You almost blew your cover.” ...

Burt blushed as he stared at the clown’s painted tits. “You guys have to be kidding me.” He looked around at his gathered friends expecting them to start laughing. Instead, they just kept their shit-eating grins. He looked back down at the flyer. ‘Ms. Merry Weather’s Clown Harem’, it read. “I mean her name’s too close to our English teacher. Doesn’t that bother you?” “Dude, you’ve seen Ms. Merriweather’s rack,” Trevor noted. ...

A tug on my leash reminds me of my place as my Master’s Petgirl. The hiking trail is moderate but more difficult wearing 5 inch stilettos. Along with the sexy heels my attire includes a bikini that’s covered in cute kitty fur and a kitty tail that is actually a butt plug/vibrator. My ears have been altered to look like cute furry kitty ears. Then there’s my kitty collar with a large loud bell and my pet tag that says ‘Ava, Property of Master Bill’. ...

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. ...

Our three sissymaids Kelly, Debbie and Polly await the announcement of the last place sissymaid and the winner. They stand on the stage slightly shaking from fear of disappointing their Mistresses. Each sissymaid is paraded one last time on stage as they are led by leashes and they are humiliated again by lifting up their petticoats to reveal their pretty pink sissy panties to the crowd. The last place humiliation goes to sissymaid Debbie and her Mistress Jessika Pegg. Debbie is frantic and is begging forgiveness from her Mistress. ...

…It had been a stupid and poorly thought out crime; my husband was an accountant for a company with ties to some nefarious people you just didn’t steal from. Sam knew this going into this job, our lawyer’s attempt to explain away the crime as a form of temporary insanity was likely the most rational explanation, but both the jury and the prosecutor were having none of it, as it seems that nobody, deep down, likes a thief. ...

Hilary is the CFO of a large corporation; she found that placed an enormous responsibility on her, which at first she loved. But now she returns home alone each night, worn out after her long, hard days at work. Her family-owned company that she previously worked for and helped her parents manage was bought out from her parents by the corporation, leaving the family wealthy, but Hillary still wanted to continue working, so she joined the corporation and climbed up the corporate ladder to become the chief financial officer. She is very good at her job and has turned around several loss-making companies, making them profitable but in the process laying off staff, shutting down plants, and making her one of the most hated people in the corporation, but she is loved by management and the shareholders. ...

I struggle hard but it’s useless, I’m tied to the bed spread-eagled wearing only my bra and panties. My abductors enter the room where I’m tied down to the bed, face-up. The first man rips open my bra revealing my young breasts. My natural instinct is to cover up but my hands are tied to the bed posts. The other man pulls down my sexy lace panties and my pussy is now vulnerable to anything. I’m at their mercy, although I don’t know what they truly want other than my body and pussy. The first man climbs onto the bed and his cock is hard and heading towards my pussy. ...

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. ...

Hi all, I’m Sue-anne, and I’d like to tell you my story and how I ended up as a PleasureBot, with my days now filled servicing particular clients. It all started, I suppose, with a former boyfriend who introduced me to his world of Master/submissive relationships; at first, I had never thought of myself as a docile person, but with his guidance and training, I found that I liked being submissive to him, the whole thing felt natural to me, and I eventually came to the conclusion that I had always been like this in some way but denied myself at the thought of someone being in control of me and my body. But that relationship didn’t work out in the end due to other factors, and I moved on. ...

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. ...

Chapter 3 - Make Them Look Pretty Jennie entered the office, barely able to walk on her noticeably wobbly legs. Her empathic coworkers petting her hair and rubbing her back helped her sit in her chair. Exhausted, she let her face fall flat on her desk. Meanwhile, standing awkwardly in the doorway, Isuki played with her rubber paws and unsure what to do next. Everybody stared at her silently, wondering what she could have done to affect Jennie to this extent. Jennie’s lamentations troubled everybody present in the room, and a single question was on everybody’s mind since they knew where those two had been for the past hour; was Iskuki that good in bed? ...

In the Elevator I won’t tolerate it any more, Laura told herself, watching the penthouse elevator doors close. Frank could be so stubborn and infuriating at times, but this was too much. She loved him more than life itself and would do anything for him, but he had to respect her need for her own space and time. Tonight it had come to a head, first his smug declaration that she would attend the party with him, followed by his refusal to let her stay home after she had pleaded with him to let her finish talking with her friends on the Internet. The party was some kind of retirement dinner for one of Frank’s co-workers and a long-time friend of his. She knew it was going to be dull and didn’t want to go. He had simply turned off her computer and told her to get ready. ...

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? ...

Olive Polson was a forty three year old teacher who lived alone in a comfortable two bedroom cottage in a good suburb. She owned this property outright. She was a slim, firmly built athletic woman, slightly above average height. An oval face, famed with straight black hair in a page boy cut, she smiled easily and was generally liked by the high school students she taught. She usually wore trimly fitting calf length skirts and well fitted blouses. ...

…“Is there nothing you can do?” I remember asking my doctor, my softer and higher voice even sounding desperate to me, just as it likely did to her I’m sure. I had been on safari when the little tick-like bug had initially bitten me, that little monster tiny, barely a millimeter in length, before of course it had gorged itself on my blood. It’s little pink body - yes, the thing was actually pink, proving once and for all that nature does in fact have a sense of humor - then expanded, much like a North American tick does. This wasn’t some perverse version of Lymes Disease though, easily treated with a host of antibiotics if caught early. ...

My name is Abigail. I am a collector. I collect boys. Not minors, of course, that would be too messy. No, my prey is always eighteen. Boys leave home at this age so no one notices if they go missing. A fate I had planned for Tyler the moment I saw him. “Silberman! Pay attention!” “Sorry, Coach!” I need you to understand something before we begin. Normally I’m laser focused when on the diamond. I was team captain after all. No one wanted us to finally reach Nationals more than I did. The problem was the field we were forced to use. We were a small high school so the board had to make a choice between a baseball or football stadium. Guess which one won. For our practices and home games we rented a field in the local sports park. That’s where my troubles lay today. ...

Chapter 3 – Whips and Chains Excite Me Amy spent the next few weeks re-organising her life, her house now sported a room dedicated to her new gym, the spare room upstairs had been turned into her walk-in wardrobe and held lots of new clothes and shoes. Even her jewellery had to be replaced, well the rings at least, though some of her favourites were taken for re-sizing. All her old clothes were packed into bags and loaded into her car, she planned to give them to charity but at the last moment decided to take them to the club, the girls there would be grateful as most of it would certainly suit the larger built ladies. ...

Chapter 3: A Gauntlet of Errands Lisa leaned against the podium as she stood before a roomful of her colleagues. Her carefully prepared presentation slides were on display behind her. She took a brief glance at her notes, put a confident smile on her face, and looked out at her audience. But to her confusion, Lisa saw that several of them had started to giggle and point at her. She looked down at herself and froze in horror at what she saw. She was dressed in her poodle costume! ...

I can’t believe I’m on my knees sucking a man’s cock while wearing a ridiculous yet sexy French maid outfit. I can sense his cock is throbbing and is ready to cum inside my mouth. My lips and tongue are pleasuring a man. He moans then his cum shoots down my throat and I swallow his disgusting cum. I’m still on my knees with his cum dripping from my mouth, feeling degraded, disgusted, and hatred for this man. But all I can say is “Did this lowly sissy French maid please you? How else can I please you Sir?” ...

My online hookup profile contains photos showing my young twink boy appearance, a big dick and swimmers physique. At 5'3" and 110 pounds soaking wet my profile gets plenty of attention. A portion of my profile reads… Relaxed, Boyish and Respectful. Responsible boy permanently attached in an open relationship. Not into drugs, just a little weed. I am exploring new avenues of degradation play and seeking kinky encounters with dudes exhibiting good attitudes. ...

The people of planet Vika are humanoids living in a medieval society. The people have made great strides in their development including inventing radio type devices, medical advancements and many small gadgets that have improved their way of life. But the people of Vika are still ritual people and believe in many past rituals passed on from generation to generation including the sacrifice of one chosen young female. Centuries ago a massive solar eclipse scared the people of Vika especially since the eclipse lasted 2 days. Most people felt that the eclipse could come back and the darkness would be forever. To please the Vika God, a young female was sacrificed and this ritual is done every 100 years. Another 100 years has passed and it’s time for another sacrifice. ...

Leah, first visit. I am a submissive, into bondage, love to be tied up tight. My girlfriends never really wanted to know, so in the end I put an advert online: Wanted, female to tie me up, generous fees available. I had about eight replies to my advert, some were professionals and not what I wanted, then Leah emailed. She had no previous experience of bondage, but wanted to earn some money. After a few emails were exchanged we arranged an evening and a 2 hour session. I sent her a full list of what she could do, what use to put each item to, and plenty of scope for improvisation. ...

“Well well, what have we here ?” The broad Afro-Caribbean accent brought me sharply awake and I sprang off the bed. Well, more accurately I tried to spring off the bed. Memory darted back out from under the rock where it had been sleeping and everything came back to me. I was visited by a fleeting memory of my girlfriend’s glorious arse and swaying bright red ponytail wriggling out of the door of our hotel room above her magnificent and very tanned legs revealed by her denim hotpants. Oh shit, I was in trouble now. ...

Her fingers were sliding along the edges of her wet pussy as her other hand was rubbing her nipple. She was getting close to an orgasm when someone began to knock loudly at her front door. She quickly covered up, answered the door and saw a UPS delivery man, a nerd with a pot belly, holding a package. She was annoyed that this disgusting man disturbed her self pleasure but she saw he had a package that she has been waiting for. “Well just don’t stand there like an idiot! Give me my package and stop staring at my cleavage! I’m out of your league!” ...

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. ...

Part 3: Second Thoughts “…That would be fine, just as long as you’re one of them, and of course that you both are properly presented in the matching uniforms of my choosing beforehand. Both my guests and I expect to see some leg, and I must say you have some nice ones too. I’ll send you some pictures of what I have in mind, I’m sure you can find something on line someplace.” ...

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 5 (part 1): Veronica Receives Her Belt It was Saturday morning, and Veronica Blair had just finished her steaming hot shower. She toweled off her beautiful naked body, aware that for over five weeks now she had refrained from any sexual encounter. Still naked, she set about drying her long brown hair, and when that was completed, she walked into her bedroom. Veronica had laid out all of her clothes on the bed, but her Chastity Belt came first. It was upside down on her dresser, with the crotch strap vertical to the surface. ...

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. ...

I enter Lady Tatiana’s bondage playroom, hoping that today will be the day that she unlocks my chastity device. We started my bondage crossdressing sessions 6 months ago and that’s when she locked me up in a cruel pink chastity device. Lady Tatiana is an elegant older Eastern European woman with long blonde hair and luscious red lips. During the last 6 months she has explored my cross-dressing fascination and allowed me to wear pretty women’s clothing only in her playroom. I have never walked out in public dressed as a woman although this thought scares and excites me. She has been giving me female hormones and this caused me to have natural small breasts. I’m extremely thin and very passable as a crossdresser. Lady Tatiana has been able to weave a dark brown wig into my natural hair and the wig will not easily come off. ...

Upper Reaches She looked out the tenth floor office window at the city, watching the lights below twinkling in the darkness of the moonless night. Above the streets it was quiet in the empty office building. Construction was finished but no tenants had yet to move in after the bankruptcy had left the question of ownership in shambles. Not even the judge was sure who legally held the title, or who could collect the rent from the leases. ...

Mr. Williams looked back at the early 1960’s when he was a teenager. There was a scarcity in movies and on television, where the heroine wore black leather or his favorite shiny black vinyl raincoat. His first recollection was Honor Blackman in “The Avengers”, before Diana Rigg took over the role. They were few and far between. Also, before the 1980’s when the first DVR recorder arrived, there was no retrieval for any of these scenes and the lovely ladies in them. It was a one-time only event that had to be stored in your memory. ...

Walk in the Woods This was the day, or rather night, she had waited for. Beautiful weather, mild temperature, a full moon in a cloudless sky, and the camp ground would be deserted. The recent wildfires had ravaged the countryside further down the mountain, closing the access road to the public. But she knew about the old logging road that was still passable and led into the camping area from the back. She should have the place all to herself. ...

Chapter 2 - I don’t want to be a pet (Maybe) “I don’t want to be a pet!” “It doesn’t matter. Since your spine is made of gelatine, you’ll do it anyway.” “Awww…” “See… Like I just said! You lower your head and don’t even consider fighting back.” As the two nurses prepared their procedure, Isuki unconvincingly attempted to argue with Misha, who just leaned against the wall while shaking her head. Her friend needed a lesson that should, at least that was the goal, help her kick start her new life. She needed to learn how to fight back a little bit and get what she wanted in life instead of just blindly following directions or waiting for good things to land on her lap. The world didn’t work that way. ...

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 3) - In The Oil Servicing Business Once Arkady and Boris had finished with Erin and Davinia, Lady Samantha and Yvette chained them, and gave them a bath and food, and rubbed salve on their stripes. Then they were locked together in their cell, as usual. “How do you feel?” asked Davinia of her naked companion. “All right. I’ve been used by Boris before. He was holding back, actually, saving some for Arkady later. You’re now a business bonus!” said Erin. ...

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 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 4 (part 1) - Sir Ian and the Rings After having sucked Sir Ian’s cock, Davinia felt debased in a way unlike her previous bondage experiences. What was happening to her that she could readily accept the crop and the cane? And what had made her so easily take Sir Ian’s shaft into her mouth and try her best to satisfy him? The next few days after serving Sir Ian were spent serving Lady Samantha. Sir Ian was, after all, the CEO of a worldwide transnational corporation, so his time with Davinia was quite limited. ...

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 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 1b I was left alone for some time and when I eventually flagged two CAs released my neck and arms so that I could replace the chastity tube myself. I was then fully released, given the dressing gown and taken cuffed back to my cell where I was made to sit again quietly, contemplating my next time with the Hades bitch. Later, I was allowed to sleep naked in the bed, my hands fitted with locked-on thick leather mitts to “prevent me attempting any type of pleasure,” as they explained. ...

Chapter 2: Petgirl at Work Lisa sighed as the guard walked her through the cellblock. She had thought that her problems would be over after she’d been freed from Miss Davenport. “Can’t you take these handcuffs off? It’s hard to walk with my hands behind my back.” The guard laughed and slapped her ass. She had a mean glint in her eyes that made Lisa nervous. “Better get used to them, honey. Now that they’ve finally caught up with you for insider trading, you’re going to be in here for a long time. You’re going to spend a lot of your sentence this way if I have anything to say about it! I bet you wish that rich lady still owned you.” ...

Chapter 1: Milky The Cow I was pissed. Proudmore had outbid me on two of the hucows I’d been looking at purchasing. For the second she had raised her paddle just before the hammer fell, just to spite me. I didn’t want to get involved in a bidding war dick-measuring contest. I’m still not sure what I did to earn her ire. A third Lot; “Milky Jugs” appeared in the stock viewer, her information appearing on the large screen. ...

Chapter 1 - Isuki “Mishaaaaa! I’m tireeed!” “I know, but whining won’t make your shift end faster.” “But it’s Friday, and I want to go back home!” “And what will you do once you reach your living room couch, Isuki? You never do anything anyway.” “I don’t know… Maybe you can spend your weekend with me? It would be like a date.” “AH! In your dream. You are a good friend, but I already have three girlfriends to take care of. I don’t need one more.” ...

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. ...

Chapter 1 “Tell me about the target.” Joel stated indifferently. He already knew all the details; he was just testing to see if she did. “Her name is Rose; around 5’4”, brown hair. Just got kicked out of school, hasn’t told her parents yet.” Zoey replied mechanically. “She’ll be alone at her apartment most of the day, packing. No athletics outside of cheerleading in high school. Nothing we’ve researched suggests she keeps any weapons in the house, this one should be easy.” Zoey continued, a slight grin creeping across her face as she failed to contain her excitement. ...

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. ...

While looking down at the squirming wannabee mumbling through the adult sized rubber pacifier strapped firmly in place, Mrs. Williams attempted to summarize how the current state of affairs had come to pass. “Before we started your little charade, you never fully explained to me why you insisted on Nanny strapping in your pacifier before our night-time chats? “Additionally,” she said, while reaching into the crib and patting the cage underneath the milky white 7 gauge plastic baby pants, “I never understood your insistence on 24/7 chastity, as well as your strict dress code for Nanny? I would have been more than happy to wear whatever rings your bell and would even have thrown in an occasional whipping,” his wife teased. ...

The woman made her way through the darkened remains of what had been a quaint English town. The torn stumps of broken trees stood out from the ground, their ends seared like so many matchsticks. She made her way past the empty shells of homes, their interiors filled with nothing but rubble that had been picked through by countless scavengers. She stopped for a moment at a ruined intersection, to get her bearings and rest for a bit. She was tall and lean, wearing the remains of what had been a hazmat suit over top of leathers that had likely come from a motorcycle shop. On one hip was a holstered pistol, on her other side the scabbard of a sheathed machete went down the length of a muscular thigh. ...

The Secret Bondage Club 2 - Sensual Robert The large woman named Abby re-adjusts Mindy’s and my position. We are now face to face and our locked up cocks were touching each other. Abby adds a strong vibrator against our balls and then places us both in one tight satin sleep sack, hanging from a hook. This was an embarrassing and vulnerable position to be in, since Mindy was very horny. ...

Phil and Mike came up to the girls who were happily discussing something on Bev’s deck and enjoying the sun. Bev wore a floral sundress with her large breasts filling the halter style top that tied in a big bow behind her neck. Sue was also wearing a sundress, but hers was strapless with an elasticized bodice. Her small tits needed no support and got none from the thin stretchy fabric of her dress. Phil said, “Mike and I were just talking about how the two of you like to be tied up, and…” ...

Chapter 2 Steve and Jen had for a number of months been playing around with the machine that could transform them into anything they wished whilst retaining their own consciousness. Steve had recently modified the software that made this device work so that he could manipulate the scans taken of the things they wanted to turn into. It had taken a few months but finally not only could they scan something, they could change it too. Steve had a huge number of test scans he’d taken sneakily of everything from people to objects. A bit like computer aided design, he could take a scanned object and it would be represented on screen as a wireframe. He could click distinct parts of the scan and reshape, resize, or remove things. On a scan of Jen, his wife, he’d edited her body to make her breasts larger. There were so many scans and so many edits the machine was littered with different versions of the things he’d scanned. He intended to clear them out now he had it working but hadn’t gotten around to it. ...

Chapter 1 Marc couldn‘t believe his eyes. The old oil lamp – yeah, the stereotypical one – he had picked up at a yard sale and started to clean up spewed out a thick cloud of smoke, which then solidified into a really hot – again, stereotypical – Dschinniya. The gauze-like top, bottom and pants did little to hide her perfect body. Black hair down to her ass, bronze skin, piercing eyes, very clearly visible nipples punched through the thin material, and her neatly trimmed landing strip lead a viewer’s gaze down towards the clearly visible folds between her legs. ...

3: Together The figure standing before us was a thing of beauty. The daughter of my lover, her mother, had come into the room where we were reclining in the king sized bed, with some fine ideas of our own. Her hair was dark and wild, her flesh gloriously soft and milky and she shared the pale grey eyes of her mother, my lover. She wore her favourite costume, a skimpy romper suit of thin black silk with soft lace trim. Legs were sheathed in black stockings and she had donned a pair of her mother’s black thigh boots. The soft suede ones with the towering heels and shiny platforms. In her hand she held a riding crop and a dangling pair of collars and leashes that I guess she had also raided from her mother’s toy box. ...

Chapter 17 - Accalia Copyright © 2021 by Tigerstretch. “You stay right there while I’m calling the police!” “No! Please! Don’t do this!” “You are a thief, and you attacked one of my employees. You should have thought about it twice before doing something so idiotic.” “You… you can’t keep me here by force!” “I sure can. Have you ever heard about a citizen’s arrest? You stay on that chair and don’t move a muscle until the police show up. You can plead your case to them to your heart content.” ...

At last, she had arrived, after six months of waiting. A large box and small packet. The box was far bulkier than I had thought it would be. My heart raced as I once again considered the possibilities that lay before me. The precious moment I had waited for, had arrived. I dragged the box into the lounge, hurriedly cut open the plastic straps and ripped open the cardboard. So much bubble wrap, acres and acres of it, and then that new smell. That smell of new plastic and electronics. Similar to a new car smell, but not identical. A small black ring binder fell out onto the floor, along with some familiar looking electrical and USB cables. Then I could make out her facial features through the last layer of clear plastic. She was too good to be true, every last facial detail exactly as I wanted it to be. I modelled her on the only woman I had ever loved some twelve years ago, Gill. ...

…This feels like a mock scenario from some long almost forgotten college workshop on leadership and team building, although one with an obvious kinky twist. But, the principals here are the same, and I think to myself, “what’s happening, and what can I do about it?” I then wonder if Rick has instead come to collect Rose himself, on time, perhaps even with the intention of some gracious reciprocation for rescuing her. It’s very predictable, and Rose obviously makes a lovely picture all bound up with that plug in her shapely ass too. That would likely mean the pair were heading back down towards my desk by any number of means though, back where this all started several hours earlier. That was where her clothes were anyway, and she would obviously need those too, after Rick removed her from the toy bear’s frame, and maybe even her bonds if he felt charitable. ...

She stood a good five-five, but with the ballet shoes she topped out at six foot. Only able to move in small mincing steps due the constricting size of the hobbling skirt. The toes of the boots just peeking out from under the dress. The length of the skirt hiding the hobble chain enforcing such restrictive movements. The body shaping corset made her walk upright ramrod straight. Breast held firmly and rounded to near perfection. Waist pulled in to give her that likable coke bottle like shape. Breathing reduced to steady small rhythms. ...

Chapter 1: Foreclosure Lisa shivered from the touch of cold iron against her naked flesh. There was so little room in her narrow cage that her breasts were pressed against the metal bars. A ball gag had been stuffed in her mouth to prevent any unwanted noise. Her cage stood on a small platform, so that prospective buyers could see her while they were bidding. Lisa could see a few of them staring at her already. The noise of the crowd subsided as the auctioneer began his pitch. ...

Part 2: Sowing Seeds Chapter 1 The last two weeks had been amongst the most gratifying in all of Katrina’s life. Sexually speaking, that is. Katrina had spent the fortnight toying with her former boss turned bitch, Tessa, uninhibited in the privacy of the automated CattleCorp breeding facility. A new shipment of various animal stock came and went, though Katrina didn’t really let herself get bogged down in those details. She was just enjoying herself too much at Daisy’s expense, who seemed to lose a bit more of her original identity with each passing fuck or insemination. It was one afternoon after a game of fetch with Daisy using one of Katrina’s favorite dildos that she realized a slight hiccup in her plan; shift change. ...

Andy woke as he felt the plane making its descent. As he looked out the window the clouds turned into a clear late afternoon sky. There was a little turbulence as the small jet lowered its landing gear. He didn’t mind plane travel but it was the landings that made him uneasy. It always felt like the plane was going too steep and was going to crash. The wheels hit the runway and there was a slight bounce. Andy’s carefully manicured and polished nails dug into the armrests. ...

1. It took some time but I had finally persuaded Beth that we needed a place of our own in the country. City life was noisy and crowded and we both craved some isolation and quiet time together. We looked at a number of properties and finally settled on a century old farm home two hours north of the city. It was in great shape and needed only a little decorating. The best part about it was its lack of neighbours and isolation from noise and light. ...

Event 3: The Race I was already entered in the swimming race, so all I had to do was show up and get a number. Since there were too many of us to assign one to each lane, they just painted a big number on our backs and told us to not drown each other. There were about fifty or so of us in the race. At least, the highest number I saw was fifty-three. With that many in the pool turning around for the second half of the lap gets really interesting. Basically you have to take a really deep breath and then swim under water until you are clear of everyone coming toward you and you can come to the surface. Then you swim like hell until you reach the other end and do the same thing all over again. ...

The Last Donor Some fame at last. All my life I wanted to be well known, a celebrity. To achieve something. But life doesn’t always turn out as you would want. Be careful what you wish for in other words. By the time 2035 arrived the world had grown used to pandemics. Where they came from, who was to blame, became of passing interest. Another outbreak, another vaccine, more mass inoculations. Like everyone I had faith in the public health experts, the scientists and the government to keep us safe. That is, until the last virus. ...

It’s chilly this morning. I probably should have had another cup of coffee before heading out. Oh well, the stable is heated, and the weather forecast says it’ll get into the 70’s by noon. A near perfect day. Wish I could take the day off, but there’s just too much work to do. The stable doors need a new coat of paint. The last stuff I used looked nice for a few months, but it just didn’t hold up to the weather. I switch off the alarm. I was told I should get a more modern one. A ‘smart’ one. Why do kids think that because something isn’t controlled by a phone app, it isn’t good? Fewer things to go wrong and I’m not crazy about the possibility of it getting hacked. Jessie convinced me to do more stuff on the computer and phone that I wouldn’t have wanted to do before. Well, we’re paying enough for that college degree to listen to her advice. ...

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. ...

Chapter 3 “Thank you, I know I need a firm hand these days, I can be such a sissy bitch. You called this the ‘whole story’, but truth be told, this wild one way trip was only beginning… “Well anyway, breakfast goes as you might expect; I’m already used to serving them, and wearing my costume of femininity for Derrick while doing so too. If it doesn’t feel natural, it at least feels more natural than it did the first day, the precedent set and all of that. If Derrick’s so confident in his masculinity though, why demote and degrade me so in his presence, dress me in submissive feminine attire? It’s an odd question, but one that gnaws at my intellect now that I have the time to think, instead of reflexively reacting to Derrick’s veiled threats. Perhaps this is as Beth had said herself the night before, for my benefit, so that I can have the proper submissive frame of mind going forward. ...

Chapter 4 “I looked out over the city at night, the view from Derrick’s gifted top floor apartment stunning, and I then wonder what Beth and he are doing at this very moment. I’m sure their plane has landed by now, and they’re likely even on the ship and in their stateroom by now as well. Are they having a good laugh at my expense? Or, is their conversation a more serious one, as in, is there a life altering question being asked at this very second?” ...

Chapter 1 …A night of drinking with a distraught coworker leads to a sleepover, and a tearful confession of sorts that rocked my world. I felt compelled to share it - with his permission of course - as long as some of the names and places were changed for obvious reasons… “So, my first question, James, is how do I actually tell this story?” “I would think you would have to start at the beginning, and of course make it clear that I was foolish, and deserving of at least some of what I received. I think I came to accept it as the price one pays for failure, as a husband, and even as a man. I think in a way it even helped make me who I am today, bring out the real me, so to speak, both good and bad. I’m fairly certain that they weren’t thinking in any altruistic terms when they started down this road with me though, but your readers will have to decide that for themselves.” ...

Chapter 2 “So anyway, Beth and Derrick come home together - to our home - around five thirty, a full half hour earlier than I expect them. I have already cleaned the place from top to bottom, changed the sheets, and even done the laundry and put everything away neatly as if my in-laws are visiting from out of town, but this isn’t quite as bad as it seems as we ordinarily kept the pace quite tidy anyway. I am dressed business casual by then, I want to give a good impression, not one more accurately indicative of my perceived inferior status. I’m wearing an apron though, Beth’s apron, it was a wedding gift for Beth, a gag gift from one of her wealthy friends as she doesn’t really like to cook. They had people who did that for them when she was growing up, and I’ve always had the feeling that she sees cooking and cleaning as beneath her, but I accept that as just who she is. Beth’s a very pretty, sexy, and desirable package, but I realized by that point not a truly perfect one… ...

She had been given two rules for their first meeting. Firstly he had told her that she was, in no uncertain terms, allowed to touch her pussy from when she left her house to when she met him. He knew how horny she was, and he also knew how desperate she would get when she was horny, she would have no hesitations about sneaking into a public restroom and pleasuring herself. She would hate this rule enough if it was on its own, but when combined with the second rule it was unbearable. He told her that she had to be plugged for her entire journey, that was nearly two hours sat on a train, and he hadn’t even sprung for first class. He had booked her a standard ticket and made sure that she was sat at a table with three other other people, so that they could see her face, full of need and frustration. He knew her so well, and even how much she hated this situation, mostly because of how wet it would make her. ...

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.” ...

Chapter 1 Tessa, or Tess as she preferred to be called, had pretty much made it. Regional Manager of a successful company, CattleCorp, as well as lead engineer of her own facility. Batch breeding was CattleCorp’s core business function: Mass breeding of various animals with the help of advanced automation for sale in other markets. Having graduated with a master’s degree in industrial engineering and quickly moving into a high paying, management position, Tess was pretty damn successful for a woman of 26 years. Or at least that’s what her resume would suggest. ...

You look at me with a mixture of surprise, amusement and lust. I’ve seen that look too many times, and yet I feel I must say something. I want to move my lips. I try to move my lips. Can you see them moving? Are they moving? Can you hear me, or is it just the slightest sound of air barely moving out of my mouth? I feel as if I am screaming, but I don’t know anymore what I have control of or not. ...

Part 2 My friend Jim approached me at school Monday morning. He leaned against the lockers and asked, “Hey, how did everything go after the party?” My heart fluttered briefly as I wondered if he’d heard something, but then I realized if he‘d heard that I’d probably be hearing all about it from everyone! So, I relaxed and shrugged it off, “Yeah, it was fine, no big deal.” That was a lie, but what was going to say, I blew two guys on my way home? Oh and they were going to make me into their personal sissy slut, too? I planned to keep that secret for a while. ...

It was just before New Year’s when the heap of wrapping paper and ribbons that had been piled on the floor gained sentience. Cindy hadn’t bothered to clean it up, deciding that laziness was at least 25% of the reason for the season. When the wrapping paper woke up, its first thought was one of mild disappointment. Cindy had gotten a number of presents, but the paper hadn’t gotten any. That was hardly fair. Surely there was some kind of present here for it. Then the wrapping paper understood how stupid it had been. The gifts that had come in the wrapping paper and the contents of the small apartment all belonged to Cindy. They couldn’t be the wrapping paper’s present. Which only left one possibility. Obviously, Cindy must be its present! The paper briefly wondered if it should send someone a thank-you card. What a nice gift. ...

…I don’t know that I should really be telling anybody this story, but guilt has driven me to share it, guilt and obligation, although I do have a certain amount of anonymity in this format… It was well before the back to school sales when the company had first acquired Rose, a fresh out of grad school student getting her first big break. I thought this was also possibly her first real job as well, not counting selling girl scout cookies or perhaps a lemonade stand in her parent’s front yard. She was pretty, maybe even sexy to some, but my preference was not other girls, although I had made an exception or two in my younger, more crazy years. ...

The well-organized thirty-five year old Mr. Williams placed the unstamped, sealed envelope addressed to The Center on the front hall table, hoping to find the courage to mail it when he returned. “Don’t have too much fun.” His wife teased as she kissed him on the cheek as he opened the front door and left for his complimentary session at The Center. Mrs. Williams had decided to take the day off from her assistant vice-president position at her ad agency in order to pay a surprise visit to see first-hand why her husband had made such a fuss about a free, one-time offer, so common in her field of advertising. ...

Chapter 11 - Craving for Ownership I nuzzled against Master’s neck as we relaxed outside. Both of us sat within a five-person hot tub built into one of the smoothed boulders that comprised the rear porch. I sat in his embrace, with my round buttocks and bared thighs across his lap. It left my shoulders exposed to the evening air – one of the only parts of my body not covered by my polymer second-skin. I could feel the hairs on his arm as he wrapped them in a protective embrace around me, leaving me safer than I had ever felt while I was still free. ...

Chapter 10 - For Master’s Sake “Mmmhf!” I cried into my deep-throating gag as a light shock in my pussy jolted me awake. The intruders in my crotch were beginning to move one at a time. The anal beads vibrated, the catheter plug buzzed, and the long but narrow dildo that kept me fully penetrated both trembled and occassionally fucked me. My hips squirmed under the onslaught of sensations, which only made that damnable clitoral hood piercing that rubbed against my ring-squeezed clitoris joined in on teasing me. ...

Visit to a Headmistress - Uto The time was late afternoon on a wintry but otherwise ordinary school day. The setting was St Barbara’s School for Girls, a large, very expensive private school for young ladies in an upper class suburb. Because it was nearing afternoon departure time the school’s corridors were filling with girls about to go home. They were starting to spill out into the quadrangle in front of the building. ...

It was a perfect October Halloween night. He was having a great time handing out candy and giving a scare to the trick-or-treaters. He noticed that there was more and more time between doorbell rings, as he looked at the clock he saw that it was getting late. He always kept his light on late, as he knew there would be some stragglers, but after about 20 minutes of no action he went to shut off the front light. ...

It’s nearing my five year wedding anniversary. Over the last five years I have endured brutal anal sex, giving my wife Kellie many blow jobs and swallowing her cum. Tonight she me tied in a strappado position with my hands tied behind my back and a spreader bar on my feet. She has allowed my cock to be released from my chastity device. It’s the first time in five years that my cock is free. It feels like eternity when I think back on our wedding night when she gave me an amazing blow job and then locked up my cock. ...

Part 22: May Gets More Respect May works her magic on women with the right heart, helping two of them. “So, who’s next?” asked May as she and Duke walked back to the interview room. Little did she know that everyone was listening to the clack of her heels on the floor and the grooms were breathing deeper, trying to capture the faint scent of her perfume. “I’m thinking Amelia. She was the financial lawyer for TTI and is wobbling on the fence.” ...

Part 23: May and the Hard Cases May finds it so wrong, to deny the obvious, and live in such pain. “Duke, my love, I’m getting tired, and my brain is getting crispy around the edges. I’m not at the top of my game anymore, so can we go home and do something to recharge me, like you tying me up, beating me, and then letting me pass out in your arms, please?” ...

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. ...

Part One I awake to darkness, I can’t open my eyes and I don’t understand why. I try to move my arms but they seem to be held somehow. I shake my head and try to dispel the cobwebs and the achy pain of a hangover. I try to open my eyes once more and suddenly realize I am blindfolded. My arms are bound behind me, tied to some kind of pole, but there is another pole on top, crosswise under my armpits. My elbows are also bound, obscenely thrusting up my large breasts. Oh god. My waist is also bound to the pole but my legs are spread widely, I can feel the cool air on my open labia. Oh no, I’m naked. I try to cry out but my mouth is stuffed with a large ball gag. Yes, I know what that is, I’ve watched plenty of BDSM porn on the internet, I’m not a prude. I struggle against the ropes that hold me tight and realize I’m not getting loose. I can’t find any knots, they seem to be out of my limited reach. Whoever did this knows how to tie up a girl. My mind goes back, wondering who might have kidnapped me. ...

Part Two “Great, now about that punishment,” my Master says. Uh-oh, I was hoping he’d forget. “Yes Master,” I say as I bow my head in submission and both fear and arousal are keeping my adrenaline high. Why are you excited about being punished? “Clean up from dinner and then come kneel in front of me in the living room when you’re finished,” my Master orders. “Yes Master,” I reply and get up and start clearing the table as Master heads off to the living room to watch the baseball game. I scrape the small amount of leftovers in a Tupperware container and put them in the fridge. I wash the dishes and put them away. ...

2: My Turn The bed was creaking fit to bust when I arrived. The daughter had been in a rush to get out of the house when I arrived and I was directed to the bedroom of her mother, my lover. Strictly the daughter was my lover too, but I was not sure if our one frantic interaction, into which I had no input, counted so I left that thought where it was for later examination. Sadly Sister Two had failed to show on that remarkable afternoon but I still had high hope for another day. ...

The 70 year old woman Barbara calls me and requests my pussy licking services since Anne, Sally and herself are horny. I decline their request since I have already made plans to go out for the evening. Barbara and the older unattractive women are disappointed and upset with their boy-toy and they plan to punish me. Barbara comes up with the idea of taking me to an adult book store where there is a secret glory hole. She plans to lock my leash on the other side of the wall, forcing me to suck anything. Anne licks her lips. “But Barbara, you want our boy-toy to suck cock in the glory hole?” ...

David, an eighteen year old high school senior, was on winter vacation. He had been working hard to finish the semester with passing grades and was more than ready for the two week break. Per his parents’ suggestion, David spent the first day of his break relaxing while he filled out applications for various jobs. He spent a long time searching the internet for online applications and filling out whatever he could find in his area. One job in particular looked of interest to him. The ad read “MALE UNDERWEAR MODEL NEEDED URGENTLY.” The curious teen imagined himself posing in front of a camera wearing a sexy pair of boxers. He would slip his thumbs into the sides like male models did, pushing the front of the shorts down just low enough that it hinted at his crotch without exposing anything below. He imagined himself in the sexy pose and a smile slowly spread across his face. ...

Beth and Karl, both 30 years old, have been married for 10 years. They want to do something kinky for their 10 year marriage anniversary so they decided to visit the Barbie Doll Experience. They want to become the classic blonde Barbie and the handsome Ken doll with an enhanced penis, and this was Beth’s idea. Beth will become an elegant bride and Karl dressed in a sexy tuxedo; they plan to renew their vows at a party. ...

Private Myra Jonson wasn’t going quietly. Nobody was explaining anything, and the four dead-eyed goons currently man-handling her weren’t in uniform and hadn’t identified themselves. Whatever they’d said to the guard room sergeant seemed to be enough for him and the other MP on duty to stand aside, and the MPs had never even explained why they’d arrested her earlier that day. But she couldn’t resist them for long and eventually, with ankles shackled and her wrists cuffed to a belt around her waist, she was forced to quickly hobble outside and then bundled into the back of an anonymous grey van, which sped off into the night. ...

Part 13: Training Day Two It’s never easy to train even one woman, much less eleven. Duke spent the entire night going over the raw footage of the slaves’ first day with his grooms. He used it more as a teaching tool for his groom corps than as a checklist of which slave did what, and when. He showed them how small expressions signified how well or how poorly the slave responded to the actions of the grooms. He pointed out the significance of body language with the new slaves, from when they were behaving to when they were defiant. Every one of them made the mistake of thinking that because they couldn’t see that they didn’t have to hide their expressions and body language. This was an invaluable tool to the newer grooms learning how to read slaves. While Duke was detailing his observations of the slave’s actions, Lee’s techno-grooms were highlighting parts of the video with arrows and subtitles and recording Duke’s voice over the footage. Duke’s new groom corps would be recording every minute of the slave’s training and using all of it to help train future grooms or grooms on different duty assignments. ...

…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. ...

Midnight, October 31st, 2007. A crossroads in rural Virginia. Morgan dropped the photo of himself, hastily taken in a gas station photo booth, into the box. His fingers were shaking, but he forced himself to keep going. He’d already had to kill a cat for this, burying the damned box was the easy part. Or so he told himself. He couldn’t tell if he felt ridiculous, or scared, or desperate. Probably all of them. Patting the dirt into place, he stood up, lit only by the headlamps of his beat up Volvo. Out here in the sticks, there was no other source of light. He didn’t know if the crossroads he’d picked would do. Didn’t know if any of this would work, or if it was just grade A bullshit peddled to him by a back-alley fortune teller. ...

“Thank you two for coming. I am Allison. You must be Luke and Callie.” Allison is a rather attractive woman in her mid 40s about 5'6" with a fit body. Her dirty blonde hair and make-up are mostly business-like along with her attire if not a little bit on the sexy side. Luke is guessing she wants to be professional looking but also be a bit of eye candy in hopes of getting the sale. She wears a pink button up shirt that fits her curves and, with the help of her bra, emphasizes her DD breasts. Her black pencil skirt hugs her hips and ass so that most men would be drooling. Her black nylons are seamed and straight as they lead down her nicely toned legs to her pink 4 inch heels with half inch platform. With a large smile, she extends her hand out as they approach. ...

“It’s that Halloween time of the year Annette, so you had best get all the spooky stuff and dressing up nonsense out of the cupboard. It is all in the one out the back” I nodded to the shop’s sole salaried member of staff and turned to go, but she had more to stay. “You would not believe how much we get donated through the year, I don’t think it has even all been unpacked. We just go and have a rummage round if anyone asks.” ...

Lauren looked at herself one last time in the mirror before she left for the party. Damn, I’m hot, she thought to herself. Every year Lauren used Halloween as an excuse to turn on the sex appeal, but in her opinion this time she had outdone herself. There was nothing new about dressing as a sexy French maid for Halloween. But Lauren had gone all-out. The costume was made of shiny black and white latex. Her generous cleavage was on display; the maid’s dress was so low-cut that her boobs looked like they were about to pop out at any moment. It was also incredibly short, and along with the black high heels helped to show off her long legs encased in black latex stockings. Lauren had no panties on; if she bent down to pick up a quarter anyone would have an excellent view of her shaved pussy, framed by the white ruffles of her petticoat. A tiny maid’s hat crowned her long dark hair. Lauren added the final touch - a ruffled black and white collar. As she clasped it around her throat she got a thrill at the sexy, submissive way it looked. There was a tiny bell on the collar, which would demand attention. ...

“Honey, I think turnabout is fair play and I want to up the ante,” says Grace as she lies in bed next to Steve just finishing a blowjob. Grace was Chinese from birth but adopted at a young age by an American family. She had very normal features of a Chinese born female: dark hair, slender frame, moderately attractive face, small breasts, and little butt to go with her average height. Grace has been sexually frustrated for nearly a year after Steve tricked her into chastity last Halloween and raffled off the key at her company party. She was less than a week away from getting it back but her boss was looking for another prize. She gave Grace an idea to get back at Steve but also earn a promotion. ...

DING! The doorbell caught Peter’s attention, and he set down his drink and paused “The Blair Witch Project” - his favorite horror movie, knowing that trick-or-treaters were at the door. However, he waited. DING! The doorbell chimed again, then a third DING! The left side of Peter’s mouth curled into a smirk as he finally got up to greet the first Halloween visitors of the evening. He opened the front door. ...

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. ...

Diane woke to find she had the bed to herself; she could hear the bath running and sounds from the kitchen. It was her birthday and Anton obviously had something special planned so she closed her eyes and tried to think of what it might be. After a few minutes Anton came into the room, kissed her gently on the lips, “Happy Birthday Sweetheart” he said whilst taking her by the hand and leading her to the bathroom. The bathroom was lit by scented candles and the aromatic perfumes filled her senses. She stepped into the bath and settled down. This was a good start to the day; she thought. “You relax, I‘ll be back soon” he said leaning over and softly caressing her neck with his lips. As she soaked in the bath she sensed that today was going to be very special indeed. ...

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. ...

Teann Codes: NO! She’s my… - Sensual Robert Barbara is a 50 year old wife and mom, she has 3 kids - two in high school and one in college. She is happily married but her bedroom sex life has been boring. In recent years she has been having erotic sexual fantasies that include getting fucked by two men, getting fucked while tied up, harem sex slave fantasies and even having sex with a young hot stud. During the last year she secretly went to fetish dungeon to fulfill some of her fantasies. She met Lady Susan and at first she resisted the idea of submitting to a woman but she felt that Lady Susan understood her and her dark fantasies. ...

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! ...

It was about 1 AM and we (Techie and Techster) were sound asleep when we were awakened by the sounds of screaming , shouting and crying from the neighbors who live across the street from us. We got up, put on robes and went to the front door of our home to see what the commotion was about. The noise was from the front yard of the couple who lived across the street from us. Mickey, the husband, was dressed only in his underwear briefs, had his wife, Jenine, who was dressed in a sleeping bra and a G-string panties, by the wrist and was beating her with a belt. We dashed out followed out followed by our other neighbors, Regina and Cliff, then Michele and Clyde. ...

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. ...

[Time Remaining: 66:10:03] After about an hour of silently crying into her blindfold Kelly heard the sounds of Mike coming back up the stairs. As he walked into the room she heard him walk right up to the front of the base and unscrew the gag dildo from the locking ring. “Ok kitten, get me off so I can grab a shower and get to work,” Mike said as he removed the gag dildo and stuffed his mostly flaccid cock through the ring gag. ...

Part 4 - Home Games Along with everything else Jack and I did outdoors, every once in a while we would have some pretty interesting times at home. Here are some of the things we did: I had been talking with Dena, my best friend. As Jack and I had always played some pretty serious sex games, there was always a risk that an accident could happen. Dena and I had been friends since high school and she took the news with aplomb and a shake of the head. ...

Part Three Will wondered what they were waiting for. If he had to be humiliated, being naked in front of his Mom, and punished by her, he wanted to get it over with quick. The shame and humiliation hadn’t caused his hardness to wane, though. Why was he feeling this way? What kind of perv gets aroused being tied up, naked, and waiting to be spanked? “I think we can go ahead, now,” Jannette said. ...

Part Six Tina, my housemate, got a call from her boyfriend. Shack called her up on a Friday a month and a half or so after her week-long trip up there. It was the day before he was supposed to come down and take her on a run to the coast. He apologized and he missed the hell out of her but he had hurt his back the afternoon before and was going to be lying in bed, according to the doctor, for the next week. He had prescriptions for drugs to help him rest and he could just watch TV but it hurt to move if the painkillers weren’t on board and it was no fun at all even then. The doctor’s orders would not let him get behind a wheel until the next following Monday at best. Short-term comp would cover most of the bills, his emergency fund the rest, but there was no way he could make it down to her. He was sorry, he loved her very, very much and he’d be down there as fast as he could, but not this weekend or next. He understood that she had jobs and couldn’t come up to Rapid City, it was ok, he’d recover and not be as stupid next time. And he loved her very much and he’d call her every day so she could see how he was doing. ...

Part Two Will slept for almost two hours. When he awoke, he was untied and the neckties were strewn about the bed. By the time he had cleaned up, he had to shower again to get the dried, sticky stuff off his lower belly, and gotten dressed, he found his step-mom in the kitchen getting ready to make Saturday supper. It had become usual for her to fix hamburgers and make cheesy potatoes and baked beans on Saturdays. Ellen was a good cook and her burgers were as good as any joint in town. Jannette was not around. ...

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. ...

Payment Plan It was just another one of those grey sunday afternoons where the weather can’t seem to make up its mind. I was walking downtown looking for a particular shop I had heard about in the fetish forums. Madame Q’s Emporium of Oddities, everyone was talking about it but no-one could tell me where it was. The closest I got to directions was “if you search you will find it” and that it was somewhere downtown. Oh well, I had time to kill after just losing my job and had to get out of the flat to stop from worrying about how I was going to pay my rent. ...

Part One Will had just turned eighteen. He would graduate in the spring if he kept his grades up. Right now, he was on the verge of failing two classes and one, English Comp 101, was a requirement for his High School diploma. He’d be in Summer School, again, if he didn’t pass. He had been through a lot in his young life, or so he thought and maybe it was true, living with his stepmom Ellen, his real mom having passed away when he was only three and his dad skipping out on Ellen when he was just starting eleventh grade. Now as a Senior, he was feeling sorry for himself. He had developed a rebellious attitude, you know, teenage boy, know-it-all, disrespecting teachers, and sometimes Ellen too. He really did love Ellen as a mother, but his attitude wouldn’t let him show it. ...

The New Year’s party was winding down and Celia knew she was in no shape to drive. Her friends she was partying with had gone the way of the four winds, leaving her alone in a sequined blue mini-dress and with plenty of drunken men, and a couple of women, that wanted to see that dress balled up beside their bed. She took a deep breath to take away the fuzziness in her head and dug out her cell to page an Uber. She would come back tomorrow to pick up her little Hyundai at the parking garage. Right now she just wanted to be out of there. ...

Addiction Tracy’s isolation felt like an eternity. After her second time in the rubber box, April let her out to have a great sex session as promised, but it only lasted a short 30 minutes. Following this brief moment of fun, April put the chastity belt back on Tracy, without the plugs this time, and led her back to the rubber room. She let her latex wife go in first and closed the door behind her without a word. ...

Eric flinched as the front door banged open. He closed his eyes, letting the paintbrush slip from the tiny figure he was painting. He waited for the onslaught. “Eric,” his wife screeched “didn’t you hear the car pull up? Am I supposed to come and ask you to carry my stuff in?” He sighed, looking down at his unfinished army of war-game figures. They would have to wait. “Sorry dear,” he said meekly. “I didn’t hear you drive up. I’ll get your stuff right away.” ...

Lisa opened the door to her flat and picked up the mail. In amongst the bills and unsolicited offers was a hand-written envelope. She dropped the rest on the kitchen table and took it into the bedroom, where she planned to change into a t-shirt and shorts to slob out for an evening watching TV; she had not decided if she would be bothered to cook or order in. With the envelope open, two items dropped out onto the bed; a stiff piece of card and a note ripped from a spiral-bound pad. The card rectangle looked like a ticket. She read the note. ...

Part 1 What caught his eye was a glint in the woods off the path. Not the sparkle of a broken bottle or a piece of trash that someone had thrown off or had blown into the forest in the path to the rapids and sliding rocks. Something else, he didn’t know what. He motioned his two friends to stop and to go check it out with him. They never in a million years imagined what they would find. ...

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 part five Part 6 Saturday morning I woke up and knew it was time. Last Saturday at Standing Rock had been bad but Scott had been perfect to me all week. He had driven me to and from school and made sure I was fed. Anything I wanted all I had to do was ask. And he had asked nothing of me. The collar was still around my neck and I still felt beautiful in it. I probably could have done sex things Thursday night without pain but wanted to wait to let all the bruises fade and all the scratches be gone and they were. In return for being allowed to wear this beautiful collar I had made a promise and it was time to keep it. ...

Continues from part four_ ### Part 5 By Invitation Part 5 – Party time Scott’s job schedule changed and it took a lot of the air out of our relationship (or was it my captivity?) With much less time to spend together we did less and the more exotic things were less and less too. He took me back to the Cove several times until I not only didn’t care but I sort of looked forward to the freedom of the nudity. ...

Continues from part three_ ### Part 4 – Con-sensuality Now at school the blouses were normally buttoned up again. If he was going to play that rough with me I didn’t necessarily need to pour gas on that fire. He was disappointed and had me unbutton them but once he was out of sight for the day the buttons were fastened right back up. He did remind me that Saturday was again going to be his day but he wouldn’t tell me what we were doing. Friday night he told me he wanted me to be ready at 6 AM for a day at the beach. I was to wear my blue string bikini under whatever else I decided to wear while we drove down to the beach and he was OK with that. I didn’t say a thing or let anything on but my heart sank. OK, I could, would be naked whenever he wanted while I was hidden from everyone else. That was ok but walking around in a bikini, especially that bikini, in public was a very unhappy thought. Way too much skin showing even at the beach. Other women could do what they wanted. Yeah, I’d look ok, even fine in it, I knew, but the fabric-to-skin ratio was entirely, unsatisfactorily out of proportion. ...

Continues from part two_ ### Part 3 Things settled down into what seemed like an almost recognizable pattern - the way things were when they were dating except that things went Scott’s way if he wanted. When I would start to protest all he had to do was ask me if I wanted to help him pick out the first few pictures he would post and I fell back into obedient line. ...

Continues from part one_ ### Part 2 - A Top-Flight Adventure Tuesday was a light day and Scott and I just sat next to each other in Medieval History, my second class of three on Tuesdays. Neither of us was willing to show anything different to any of our classmates and we pretty well ignored each other like we had been doing for the last few months. I had back-to-back classes on Tuesday and we were on separate sides of campus when I was in the third class so I was long gone before he could find me, in my car and on my way back home. ...

Kate had taken the job at the electroplating plant out of high school wanting to get away from her abusive father and oblivious mother. After learning what the company did it didn’t take long before she started to wish she could encase herself in the thick layers of the metal used in the dipping process. In Kate’s mind if she could become a statue it would solve all her problems and make it so she would be able to forget the fears and worries she felt daily all while keeping her constantly aroused by the permanent bondage. The biggest problem was the process was activated by applying electricity into the solution which would electrocute someone if they were in it. After years of working in the plant dreaming of being encased in the metal she had been able to “dip” pieces of the molds she made of her body making herself a full body case. Kate had made the case by molding her body in stages then casting each and getting a metal shop to fuse them all together leaving her with an almost perfect formed case that she spent every night inside. When the company introduced a low voltage system that could be controlled to exactly match the thickness and density of the materials needed Kate quickly began studying the machine and its capability to see if she could use it still dreaming of being a living statue. ...

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. ...

Morgan was a really hot looking woman who was from the middle of Arkansas. She had long dark hair and a rockin’ tight bod, with muscular arms, because she worked out regularly and lifted weights. The only problem was that she didn’t date much. Between her somewhat muscular looks and domineering attitude, she tended to scare the boys away a little more than she attracted them, so she was also lonely. ...

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.” ...

…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. ...

Chapter 1 – Introduction to Bondage Tawny was a young woman of 28 years of age. It seemed like all of her friends had gotten married or found the right guy but she was still searching. It wasn’t that she hadn’t found some nice men or that she wasn’t attracted to them, she just hadn’t found the right one. She figured that when she found the right man the sex would be awesome, but she couldn’t even remember having an orgasm with a man. Tawny began to wonder what was wrong with her. She was an attractive woman at 5’ 5” and about 120 pounds with 36D breasts, a slim waist of 24 inches and 36 inch hips. Her auburn hair hung on her shoulders and her beautiful blue eyes and lovely lips got her plenty of attention from men. Lately she had been brushing them off and turning them down, even the really handsome or nice ones, because she wasn’t sure what was wrong with her. She had fallen into a bit of a depression over this and didn’t know where to turn. ...

Continues from part one M/F, MF, anal, reluctant, sex, bond, cuffs, chain, corset, crotchrope, bed-tie, bodymod, reluctant, shackles, hood, insert, toys, captive, kidnap, revenge, transported, sen-dep, After Anna realised that she was alone and being transported somewhere, she bent down and attempted to remove the hood. She found the zip and began opening it. The zip kept stopping where her hair was trapped and so opening the hood took her a few minutes. ...

Danny was a married man with a young son who had given up his job as mechanic after his father passed suddenly. He had inherited his parent’s farm in Suffolk England and they had turned their hand to farming. At twenty seven years old they were more than capable but as their son started school, Danny’s wife took a part time job during the day in the local town. There was an up and coming crop and he needed some temporary helpers so he put the word out in the community and hired five casual workers who he knew weren’t in the UK legally and would only accept cash. ...

Ginny glanced at her watch and wondered where her friend was. Standing outside the local Muggle electronics store late at night, she couldn’t wait to get it over with. She didn’t worry about what the girl was doing late at night alone on the street; Godric’s Hollow was a fairly peaceful village. Today was July 30, which meant Harry’s birthday would be tomorrow, and she still couldn’t decide what to give him. She knew this was an important moment in their relationship. She had recently moved in with Harry, and they were already talking about spending the rest of their lives together. The dark-haired man had renovated his parents’ house in Godric’s Hollow and improved it. There were more rooms, a library, a spacious attic, a modern kitchen and a cozy living room. His 21st birthday was not only an important moment in his life, but also the first time they were able to officially celebrate the event as an adult couple. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find anything suitable. She had already thought of everything, starting with a trip to the next Quidditch tournament, but that didn’t seem to suit her mood. She was always poor at choosing gifts. She knew that when opening previous gifts, he had put on an enthusiastic face so as not to upset her. But she could see his frustration when he picked up socks or a set of chocolates. On the contrary, whenever he gave her gifts, they always seemed the perfect thing for the moment, gifts that inevitably brought tears to her eyes. ...

Continues from part one …I waited, helplessly spread eagled before my captors, for that inevitable first stroke, while wondering where my husband was. Or even if he had still engineered this somehow, although that looked all but impossible now. Did he originally select and invite these men, only for them to change the script and overpower him for some reason. Perhaps then gagging HIM and handcuffing him someplace so he would be forced to watch? Was this what I had thought I had heard earlier? If that were the case, what must my husband be going through, knowing he had specifically gift wrapped me for these men? ...

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. ...

It started off as a simple plan between the three friends Leia, Marina and Bianca who comprised one of the three popular kids clicks in the senior year class at Gladsden High School. It was the last month of school before graduation and the three friends were looking for one last quick score that could help set them up for life without leaving a trace. They planned to kidnap the two most popular girls who came from very wealthy families at school, who were in the remaining two popular cliques in school and ransom them for a crap ton of money from their families. Brianna Bhadu a third generation Punjabi-American girl, and Illyana Proznick a second generation Ukrainian-American girl. Both were very beautiful, with Breanna having the bigger breasts and reddish-brown hair; while Illyanna had the bubblier booty yet sexy narrow hips with yellowish-orange hair. ...

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. ...

A decline in the economy forced the husband of our back-fence neighbor Cliff to close the office he had been renting and work at home. Since his business is internet retail sales it was very easy for him, except he laid off the secretary he had been working with for several years. His wife, Regina, who is a trim carpenter, called me over to ask a question. We spoke about it over the fence. She enlightened me with the fact that her husband, Cliff, was working out of their home with his computer, which she “borrowed” since it was a newer unit than the old Windows 7 machine Cliff lets her use. The “spare bedroom had become his office. ...

She promised to stop by randomly to make sure that everything was copasetic usually after he was tucked in for the night. She cherished these moments and relished wearing the provocative clothing that made him lust for her without the slightest opportunity to have her while he was occupied in his fantasy. Tonight she had selected a new shiny black vinyl raincoat as she removed his pacifier and stood provocatively with hands akimbo on her hips for their twice monthly chat. ...

Denise stretched her arms high in the air as she finished dressing for the day ahead. Glancing at her reflection in a nearby mirror, the dark haired woman with blonde streaks in her locks smiled at what she saw. Wearing a red blouse that emphasized her bosoms, white shorts and black high heels, Denise figured she could draw the attention of any man who glanced her way even briefly. Alas, things were not looking that way as it was a fairly humdrum late summer morning for her and there was nothing much in her plans. ...

Enid was a librarian who lived and worked in the inner western suburbs. Late one wet winter afternoon she was making her way home to the unit in which she lived alone. This lady was two years short of forty, never married, though there had been occasions where it had seemed likely. She had had affairs, some satisfying, but these had been less frequent of late. She was, she sadly reflected, drifting toward old maid spinsterhood. ...

Interview with LaraBot from the Cyborg and Upload Rights Archive Greetings Human, welcome to my Master and Mistresses home. Yes it seems like just yesterday but it was over two hundred years ago. Why would you want to hear my tale? I’m not special… Well yes I made the history books because of how I twisted the loopholes to fit my circumstances and desires. I and my fellow Gynoid were once human. It was all my fault, but it led to me becoming his Best Bot Forever. ...

Day 1 Somewhere in the middle east, there is a legendary bazaar of great trade. In this bazaar, anything and everything could be traded for money. It was under no jurisdiction of any country. It only had two laws: 1. Once a deal was made you could not break it by any means, not even death. 2. Everyone must be true to their word and must honor the deal that was agreed upon. If these two simple rules were broken both the dealer and the buyer were killed. This allowed for a simple and effective way for everyone to keep true to the code of a trade. ...

Grin. Smile. Dance. Laugh. Cheer. Yell until your voice goes hoarse. Somehow, you don’t feel embarrassed. Tonight, there’s no anxiety and no self-doubt. It’s a good feeling. Supportive people surround you. You’ve cut loose. It feels phenomenal; to dance and cheer and never once feel like you’re being judged. It’s not clear why it’s so easy tonight. Maybe it’s the people, maybe it’s the location. It’s definitely the location. The ambiance definitely has something to do with it. Dim lights and laughing, music that isn’t too loud but is so loud that you do kind of have to yell. Other people in costumes make you feel downright normal in comparison. Your red qípáo is trimmed with gold. You were worried that it wouldn’t match your glasses, but in the dark nobody noticed. Maybe it matched after all. ...

Continues from part two Part Three - The Focus Circle Once Zelco, Punca, and the Mufah were gone, Mousey asked quietly, “Are we alone now?” Mulasi leaned toward the door, stretching her chain and her oversized body. She looked out the small slit window into the corridor. “No one out there,” she whispered. Mousey nodded and then said quietly, “Tomorrow sounds bad.” “Like today wasn’t?!” Barney almost yelled. Everyone shushed her and she repeated, “Well, who except Kalina would have enjoyed it?” ...

Continues from part one_ ### Part Two - The Parade of Shame When Mousey awoke, she was once again chained in the small cell with the other seven. “What happened?” she asked. She wasn’t so much interested in what had happened to her, but wanted to know if the same had happened to the others. “After a while,” Kalina said, almost laughing, “you seven screamed and passed out. They continued fucking us for a while. I think there were ten men working on each of us after the women had finished. They laughed at the ten who fucked me and called them Kootas because I didn’t pass out.” She wrinkled up her face and asked, “What’s a Koota?” ...

Finally I was there after a two hours drive. I could see the house at the bottom of the mountains, in a very reclusive place. At least he gave good indications because it’s almost impossible to find it at the end of a dead end road. As I approached, the house was a one floor building with wings, it seemed well kept. I parked my car in front, you couldn’t see the back, a high fence blocking the view. ...

Continues from chapter two_ ### Chapter 3: Slavery is Surprising Helpless and alone Slavery is her path now Will she be pleasing? He watched her on the closed-circuit TV monitor, slowly squirming in her bondage. She writhed more to feel her restraints than to try to escape. He looked at her body, glowing in the green light amplification, and marveled at the surgeon’s skill at constructing her. He thought about the countless hours of exercise that went into maintaining that construct. If some god had granted him a wish in which to create the most pleasing woman he could imagine, May would be the one. ...

Continues from chapter four_ ### Chapter 5: Desires vs. Reality Motivated now She accepts the discipline So she can please him “All right, rest now” For the remainder of the morning May had paced off what seemed like miles of measured steps in a hobble skirt and five and a half-inch stiletto heels. Duke had removed her leash and walked behind her giving her verbal directions. Occasionally he would reach up and tickle her ribs, or lightly pinch the sides of her tits as a distraction, but for the most part he helped her form a mental map of her new living quarters. ...

Continues from chapter three_ ### Chapter 4: Her Groom Sleeping bound and gagged, she wakes stiff but excited, because he returned. Her dreams transcended all reality, vivid and surreal. She dreamed of her captor but not of the man that now owned her. He was making her do things that she never dreamed she could manage. Doing whatever he required of her made her nipples ache with pleasure, her body glow with anticipation and her pussy vibrate and quake with tiny jolts of desire. She never wanted to wake up from this dream but someone was removing the straps holding her to the massage table. ...

“Doctor Trunklemire, I’m certain that I can find this new species.” “Miss Francisco, all you have are rumors. And not very well substantiated ones at that. I am hesitant to let you go forward with this. At first glance it looks like a fool’s fantasy.” “I am aware that there is little to go on here. But I have received this information from someone in whom I place a great deal of trust. They have also told me that they have seen for themselves further evidence to lend support to the rumors. Unfortunately, they are not able to provide any direct samples or even pictures, but they assure that the arachnids do indeed exist.” ...

I decided to surprise my girlfriend by becoming a bound sex toy for her. I knew her parents were in Europe for vacation and that she had the house to herself. So I was able to get into their house and her bedroom. I brought with me a bag of sex toys… silk scarves, vibrator, butt plug, chastity device and a sexy french maid costume for my girlfriend Jane to wear for me. My girlfriend would be home in about an hour, so I quickly removed my clothes except for my silk boxers. ...

Not many vehicles come down here. Especially at night. I walked out to see who it was. The car was stopped with its parking lights on. As I walked toward it a spotlight came on, blinding me. I instinctively put my hands up to shield my eyes. The passenger door opened and a voice said, “Stop right there and put your hands all the way up.” It was a woman’s voice. I don’t get newspapers or the internet out here but I had a radio. I was pretty sure I knew who they were. I put my hands up. ...

Part 1 It has been a troubling year to say the least. My name is Cara, and I am writing this after a string of unfortunate events which I thought I would share with you. So lets start this in the usual way. I am 32, I am athletic, small chested, 5’ 7” tall with longish legs. I tend to dress on the edgy side of acceptable but am basically a weak fumbling woman just trying to make it through life with enough to enjoy it just a little bit. I am single and not really looking for anything serious now as I have just changed my job, I will start the story from just before something happened that changed me for good. ...

Part One - Mouse Trap Mousey LaBlaunche closed her eyes and tried to remember how she had ended up here– here being naked in a room full of rather dirty and foul-smelling men. One of those men was lying on his back with his knees bent over the end of a strangely-shaped long stone table while Mousey squatted over him and bounced up and down on his prick. As she bounced others, gathered around the table, clapped in time to her thrusts. In the darkness around her she could hear additional men shouting and other women screaming. ...

My girlfriend Kelly and myself have been active in the bondage lifestyle and are always looking for a new kinky adventure. We found the ad that mentions a 3 week stay at a private island where everyone’s fantasies become reality. Kelly is 38, a fit blonde standing at 5 foot 5 inches, I myself am 30 years old, and also fit with a modest 6.5 inch cock. We will both engage in separate bondage fantasies, so we won’t see each other until the final days where there will be a special party with a surprise event. We both have specific fantasies but we have many limits. Mine is to become submissive to a woman and forced to pleasure her. ...

Helena Laverre and her daughter Daphne were going on a short holiday trip overseas. They were planning to leave their comfortable home in the western suburbs, drive for an hour to the International Airport to catch their flight. Helena was forty five, solidly built but still reasonably fit, her figure ever so slightly fleshing a little. She had a well rounded face with short wavy brown hair. Her background was international finance, a business she worked in with her husband. She was a forceful woman with people around her. ...

“Aaaaaah! Home!… Home, Home, Home!” My name is Rosi, 32 years old, and I was finally home after a long week at work. Yes, It was finally Friday, and I was going to enjoy myself for once. Not committed to anything else other than relaxing as much as possible, this weekend, I would turn myself into a leopard. Roar! I traded my keys and purse for a small squishy package that was sitting on the Ikea table in my kitchen. I hugged and rocked it as if it was a baby while I trotted to my small bedroom. I laid down on the white tiger printed on the soft plush blanket, and the foam mattress silently absorbed my weight. I hugged my package even more. ...

My heels clicked as I walked down the damp sidewalk. I had already walked several blocks from my hotel. It had been a long first day at the conference, but I didn’t feel tired now. I approached the small cross street and turned left. My heart was pounding. The street was dingy and deserted but I pressed on, clutching my purse tightly under my arm. I finally spotted it. A single black door, no windows, and a sign that said, “Madam J’s”. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching. I could still play it off, keep walking, act like I was looking for a restaurant. ...

One night I went out for drinks and to find a one night stand. I had too many drinks, passed out and then woke up to a nightmare! I woke up and saw that I was in some kind of underground room. I was scared as I saw whips, paddles, bondage equipment, torture devices and many sex toys. I tried to move but I was bent over a table with my hands secured in front and my feet tied to the table legs. I tried to get my hands free, then suddenly someone said “It’s no use, you will not get free from those ropes and this room is soundproof… no one will hear you.” ...

Techie: Ever since I saw a demonstration of a ”ride-on” sex toy called a Sybian I have wanted one, but since Techster and I are retired and living on a “no frills” income, the $1250 for the basic unit plus $350 for the storage case and about another $300 for the different stimulation heads cost more than we could afford. But when a local Dominatrix offered to trade a new Sybian with all the accessories in exchange for the use of Techster for a day as an unlimited slave I could not refuse. ...

People may wonder why the chief of the Psychiatric Department of a major hospital like Winterfield has posted a case log online. Let me assure you, the reason will become clear in time. - Dr. Vivian Sanders Case Log WH-Sanders-2019-3793, Entry One, 20161030 I’m not sure where to begin. This isn’t my case, the patient– I mean client– isn’t one of mine. It’s not even a referral. A colleague came to me for help and guidance. I will refer to her as Doctor Kelly. That is not her name. Ethics require that logs such as this be anonymous except for a patient’s name, but technically, neither she, nor the man in question, is a patient or client of mine so I will use pseudonyms. Should her name be needed for some reason, it is cross-referenced in my contacts on my personal phone. I am making sure there is a complete chain of information because there are legal aspects to this record. Specifically, Doctor Kelly thinks that this might be related to the “Pajama Poser Abductor.” ...

Let’s start with a little bit of background. My name is Steve, I’m 22 years-old student, living alone in a small apartment in a big city. During my teens, I developed many bondage fantasies, but I was always frustrated at not being able to realize them, because of many factors. First, when I was younger, It was hard to practise self-bondage or other kinds of dares because I was living with my parents and so, was afraid to be caught. Later, when I met my first girlfriend, she wasn’t into kinky stuff and didn’t want to try anything like that. ...

Part One This is a description of the ‘testing my limits’ day I spent with my housemate Sara on 13th May 2006. I’ve written it up as a story continuing on from my medieval (See #01 Andreabound in the Oubliette, #09 Andreabound in the Iron Maiden and #10 Andreabound between the trees). This story starts where the last one left off. Wrongly accused of witchcraft by the town’s magistrate, I’d been taken into the forest by the castle guards and tied between two trees to be used as their entertainment. They’d left me stretched there for the night expecting me to be awaiting their return in the morning to carry on with their games. ...

Part One Since leaving college, I’d moved from one temporary job to another and so I was really pleased when I landed the position of junior admin assistant at Goldman & Goldman; the most prestigious Law firm in the town. At last I could start a proper career and with my qualifications and sharp mind I was confident I could have a long and prosperous employment here. That was six months ago and I’d come to realize that having a natural ability for a job was not the only thing that mattered at a place like this. You also need to fit in. The problem was Sara, the office supervisor. She was beautiful, with a body to die for. This seemed to give her a strange authority over the other girls in the office above her rank. Basically, whatever Sara wanted, she got. The other girls would do anything to please her and she used this power to rule over the office like a queen bee. ...

After the recent party, I was left to do most of the clearing up. Sara helped a little but, predictably, left me to do most of the work, tottering around in my five inch sandals and, as usual, wearing the maids outfit. I had previously agreed with Sara that she would have to keep the house clean if she wanted to stay with me, and failure to do this would have consequences. I like my house to look very neat and tidy and be very clean and I’m prepared to put in the work to keep it that way. Sara has a very different view about housework – for her it is to be avoided at all costs. ...

Part One I hadn’t heard the door open and so the feeling that I was no longer alone in the room sent a strange chill up my back. I looked up and went even colder as I found myself looking down the barrel of a gun. I had thought I was alone in the building but I had forgotten about the security guard. Why a two-bit firm needed a security guard I don’t know, but here he was, all 200 pounds of him to prove his existence. ...

Geez, this kinda thing sucks. I enjoy working as a lifeguard but the work to stay in shape…sheesh… Rachel thought to herself as she pulled the left strap of her one piece red swimsuit over her shapely figure. After adjusting the suit so she didn’t have an obvious case of camel toe, the blonde haired woman headed to the bathroom to make a few make-up applications before heading out to join her fellow lifeguards. ...

Sleeping Beauty: Sweet Dreams or: Prince Charming and the Devil’s Thorns Tiffany smiled and waved to the boy peering down at her from his bedroom window as she walked from her car to the basement apartment she had rented from his father. She entered the apartment and promptly forgot about the boy. Her thoughts were elsewhere: She was thinking about the new demands Buford had just made of her. She was going to have to perform in front of him, and the thought of doing so made her uncomfortable since she had never done anything like that before. She sighed. If she didn’t want to look awkward in front of him, she was just going to have to practice first. ...

“How would you feel if I was made of rubber?” Martin smiles at that, Tamsin is always saying crazy things. “I think it would be fabulous.” They both laugh and carry on making love together. “Just think, you could bathe me and the water wouldn’t stick, you would be able to put me to bed straight away.” “It would be great, it’s just a shame it’s not possible.” “Well I can always dream.” ...

Recently married Mr. Williams is thankful that his wife has accepted his semi-annual breaks from reality that started when he was single. Being somewhat vague on the particulars, she was determined to learn more about his silly little fantasy and decided to pay an unannounced visit to see first-hand. Later that afternoon she arrived at The Center and spoke briefly with a staff member before heading down the corridor to see for herself the big deal. There in all his glory was her wannabee, cuffed to the wooden slats of the adult sized crib with the mandatory pacifier in place. ...

The all women’s school known as Douglas Leblanc Academy had been operating for just over one hundred years and had garnered a reputation of being an excellent institution for preparing young women from high society to succeed in the world around them. However, the last decade or so had seen a decline in the number of women attending the academy and coupled with the rising costs of the operation, the days seemed numbered for the private learning facility. However, out of the blue, the Academy was saved from closure thanks to an infusion of funds from investors whose identities were known only to a select few. With that extra cash added to the coffers, a new crop of entrance level women joined the Academy and were excited at the opportunity to attend the academy. ...

Continues from part one Huh…huh…that was quite…mmm…quite the workout…didn’t think it’d ever end… Bri thought as she entered the room assigned to her, unaware of what was transpiring elsewhere in the building. Without a moment of hesitation, Bri stripped off her clothes and went into the washroom for a hot shower. As the hot water streamed down her body, Bri mentally flashed back to her time in the exercise area with the other women and how sexy they looked stretching and jogging in place. Almost instinctively, Bri let her fingers wander downwards and she started stimulating herself as erotic visions filled her mind. ...

Part 1 Glancing up from his computer screen Mark watched her walk across the office between the banks of desks, hidden behind the flat screen monitor save for two eyes. He stared, trying to see what she was wearing today but her path kept her mostly hidden save for her top and head as he began fantasizing about her and knowing in a few minutes she’d finish what she was doing and he’d get another chance to watch her. ...

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. ...

Chapter 1: Meeting In the Park I’m not a morning person. I was still up and it was near dawn on Saturday. But it was a beautiful, warm night and I decided to take a walk in the park instead of going to sleep. When I got to the park, the sun wasn’t up, but it was light enough to walk safely as long as I stayed on the trails. And this was a perfect time since it would get hot in a few hours. ...

story continues from Part 4 Part 5 Caroline sits in the coffee bar on her own. She has left Daz making a set of new harnesses for a new customer. Her mind’s a whirl. This week so far has been so bloody weird. She knew she was complex but the whole Janet thing was affecting her still. Was she a lesbian? Well, bi-sexual. Well, dominant. Well, a sadist. A submissive? Well, oh I don’t fucking know! ...

Continues from part seven = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = W explores The Fourth Floor of Walter Monty’s Club in LA. This is Chapter Eight of a book. Because it is a book, some of the chapters are more exciting than others, and some situations do not complete until the next chapter. This first chapter is primarily setup, but has some very interesting parts. For later chapters, the characters and situation will be more understandable if the previous chapters have been read. I could have run this through my regular publisher and made a couple hundred dollars, but I am posting it instead because many more people read my posts than buy my books. ...

She was usually such a “good girl.” But sometimes, she enjoyed a little naughty kink. And when she did, she was a really, really good girl…depending on how you looked at it. When she was at her naughtiest, she enjoyed playing with her nylon collection. She had a lot of different nylon items, and a bunch of it was typical. Though she only had the highest quality nylons, and she wore these “normal” ones quite a lot in her “normal” life. ...

Continues from part two I didn’t need to wait long. Noticing my arm above my shoulders and expecting me to complete my escape within seconds, she wasted no time in throwing the cape over my head once more, smoothing it down over my face. The fury in her eyes was the last thing I saw, a vision of dread that now haunted me. The last two times she had been calculating in her application of the cape, this time it was with uncontrolled rage and I feared the worst. Expecting me now to struggle frantically to free myself with the utmost vigour, she wasted no time in wrapping the scarf around my neck and tying it tight under my chin. ...

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. ...

I am of Italian descent, born in the south and raised in the north, I have been lucky enough to move to Nashville to pursue being a TV reporter. Now I know that the profession of reporting has fallen into the same category as being a politician, or a lawyer. I have always thought that exposing the wrong people do to help the little guy was a noble thing, but regrettably not everyone thinks this way. For example the bad guys, the politicians, and the lawyers that we expose. Sometimes for the good and sometimes for the bad. Now this being said, let me explain what I look like. I stand 5’ 4" tall, I weigh 110 pounds, my measurements are 36C-30-36, I have long straight black hair down to my waist, I have coal black eyes, and what one boyfriend called DSL’s (dick sucking lips). My job is to report the traffic on a morning news program and I do this with style and the tightest little dresses and high heels I can get away with. ...

Continues from chapter twelve CHAPTER 13 – WINDOW SHOPPING The cool morning air gave me goosebumps as I speed-walked down Court Street toward the Inns. Like the morning prior, I seemed to be the only person up at this hour. I hadn’t informed Katie that I was leaving, but judging by volume of her snores when I left, I doubted she’d even notice my absence. I’d hardly slept at all that night. In the hours following Alpha’s warning about Katie, my mind ricocheted from one conspiracy theory to the next. Despite our amazing evening together, I was now just as unsettled and anxious as I was before Katie arrived. But even after Alpha’s message, my instinct was to trust her. Whatever happened with her profile, Katie just didn’t seem like the manipulative type. Quite frankly, it was hard to imagine her even telling a fib without blushing. The more logical explanation was that this was all an administrative mistake and she knew nothing about it. ...

The front door bell had rung several times. Then it went silent before the knocking had commenced. I prayed for whoever it was to just go away and leave me alone. It was only when I heard the front door latch being opened and the sound of stiletto heels tapping over the wooden floor boards of my hallway I lost the plot and started to go frantic. “Hey sis, I know you are in. Your car is in the driveway. Come on, stop mucking about. You promised me you would come… Holy shit!” ...

“I really wish you would stop looking at mermaid stuff Lacey” “It’s fascinating. I know it’s impossible and they don’t exist but I fantasize all the time about being one.” “Well I suppose I can’t control what you think. I guess it could be worse.” “You mean having an affair, don’t you? I would never do that, I love you too much.” “Yes, that is what I was thinking, and I adore you as well, even if you are a bit crazy.” ...

Part 1 Chris’s 23rd birthday was tomorrow and he wished to celebrate by treating himself to a new shiny raincoat. He has seen a new range of coats for sale at Marks and Spencers in their brochure which came with his Sunday paper. The photos of the new macks showed two of them in very glossy black. One with a hood and the other without and it was the one with the hood that took his interest most. ...

Elaine was a young woman in her mid thirties, very fit, solid and athletic. She had a pointed chin and a determined face, framed by shoulder length black hair which at the moment was somewhat dishevelled. She was regarded as the sort of person who generally did what they set out to do. Most of her working life had been spent in banking finance. But this was some time back. She had spent the last few months in a woman’s penitentiary and had only escaped a few hours previously. Her crime had been white collar, the misappropriation of many millions. It had been other peoples’ money and certain highly placed people had decided that she should to be out of circulation for a very long time. Hence her need to escape and if possible leave the country. ...

Continued from Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Lifestyle Changes The first thing I noticed waking up was a sucking sensation. My mouth was wrapped around something, and out of habit—or maybe it was programming now—I was sucking on it automatically. It was the long dildo from the night before, still sticking out of my mouth. By now only a few inches were showing between my lips. I tried not to think about how much I had deep-throated in my sleep and pulled it out with a wet popping sound. It left me feeling strangely empty. ...

A traffic accident occurred late on a rainy Autumn afternoon on a quiet medium density residential street in the western suburbs. A driver lost control when his car skidded on a rain wet surface and crashed into a parked green Ford sedan. He was not hurt, merely shaken, but both cars were rendered non-drivable, the parked vehicle being particularly badly damaged. Two police officers driving by stopped to investigate. They made ready to give the driver a spot test for alcohol consumption. He protested, saying he had been a teetotaller all his life but they went ahead anyway. A few pedestrians stopped to watch. ...

Continues from part one = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = W goes to Rio in search of abducted members of The Society This is Chapter Two of a book. Because it is a book, some of the chapters are more exciting than others, and some situations do not complete until the next chapter. This first chapter is primarily setup, but has some very interesting parts. For later chapters, the characters and situation will be more understandable if the previous chapters have been read. I could have run this through my regular publisher and made a couple hundred dollars, but I am posting it instead because many more people read my posts than buy my books. ...

Continues from part two = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = W’s search takes him to a special show at an old mansion in Rio de Janeiro. This is Chapter Three of a book. Because it is a book, some of the chapters are more exciting than others, and some situations do not complete until the next chapter. This first chapter is primarily setup, but has some very interesting parts. For later chapters, the characters and situation will be more understandable if the previous chapters have been read. I could have run this through my regular publisher and made a couple hundred dollars, but I am posting it instead because many more people read my posts than buy my books. ...

Continues from part two Trevor is feeling so good all these years of making what he thought was a comfortable living and bingo he hits the jackpot he has only ever had just over £30,000 in his bank account then overnight just as he was about to go into overdraft it’s £500,000 now he wants more a lot more. “Hi Abdul, just a quick call to make sure the shipment is ok.” ...

Continues from part one Trevor has been working hard on his orders it’s been over a week since he sent the basket with Lori in it to his customer in the Middle East. He doesn’t get many phone calls most of his customers contact him via email or letter so at first he doesn’t notice it but it keeps ringing so eventually he answers it. “Hi Trevor, Abdul here.” “Hi Abdul, what can I do for you?” ...

Continues from part seven Part 8 (Day 26) Cindy woke up with the damn power cord wrapped around her ankle. Rob must have plugged her in after she fell asleep. She still couldn’t believe that she had to be plugged in like her phone to recharge each night. She twisted around and tried to unplug the connector, but with her limited flexibility and her long nails she just couldn’t seem to reach it properly to disconnect it. She cursed, and woke Rob, even though she didn’t really mean to. ...

Continues from part nine Part 10 (Day 32) Change of plans, change of life In the morning they had a large room service breakfast and took their time getting up and about. They figured it would be their last in this place as they were set to leave early the next morning to catch the train. Cindy began packing her now, much larger collection of clothes in the set of suitcases needed, two new ones had been purchased just to fit everything. ...

Continues from part eight Part 9 (Day 29) They started stirring well after their normal breakfast time. Rob crawled out of bed first and used the toilet. Cindy flagged him down as he came out and pointed to her mouth, still gaged from last night. Rob, devilishly just nodded and pointed her toward the bathroom. “Clean your insides first, then come back out, and we’ll remove your outfit.” Cindy gave him a dirty look, as much as she could with only her eyes exposed through the mask, and paraded over to the door. She closed it behind her with a slight slam, indicating her displeasure. ...

Part 1 Jennifer can’t wait to start her 3-day holiday weekend. Jennifer phone rings, it’s Marie, Jennifers BFF. Marie says “Jennifer could you stop by I have something to show you?” Jennifer says “Marie all I want to do is get into a hot bath and some wine. Maybe tomorrow??” “All come on Jennifer it won’t take long to show you what I got!” “Ok Marie, But it better be good.” ...

“So, can you tell me the story of how Wicked Wanda came to be?” “Why, of course.” It is the summer of 69. Wendy is in her final year of College. Her chosen study was Literary and Theatrical Arts. You know, books and movies. At 22 years young she was very naive to the ways of the world. Adventurous and carefree, with a trust fund to back her up. She decides to move out of the dorm from college and get herself an apartment in the heart of the city, A big luxurious Penthouse with all the amenities. Come move-in day, a very hectic day indeed, boxes, furniture, cleaning and at of the day Wendy was exhausted. Then came the knock that would change her life’s direction. ...

Chapter 1 Transformation I was on top of the world. This week had been a series of firsts for me. My first apartment in the city, my first job at a real laboratory, and my first scientific breakthrough—in said lab. Walking in the front doors of the facility, I must have been beaming with excitement. The security guard behind the desk gave me a friendly nod on my way by, before returning to his morning paper and coffee. ...

A couple create new lives in 40 days A long, day-by-day account of a happy couple living out their fantasies and fetishes on a life-changing trip to Paris. (Latex, Chastity, Humiliation, Reluctance, Chasti-Permalock) Author’s note: This is, of course, pure fiction. In a couple of cases the timeline is somewhat unrealistic (for example: for surgical recovery), but necessary to maintain the flow of the story. Stories of the Chasti-Permalock company and their product offerings have been around for a while, I take no credit for them (I’m not aware of their inventor/author). Please suspend disbelief as necessary and just enjoy the tale… ...

Continues from part one Part 2 (Day 6) The next morning, after a quiet breakfast, and a stroll around yet another quaint neighborhood, Rob and Cindy returned to the latex shop. They entered the store to find the same sales-girl waiting for them. They were both surprised when the girl said that it would be a couple of hours before the measuring process would be complete. “Madam,” she said, " our technology is first rate, and must take its time to gather every measurement. It will ensure that any and every piece we make for you will be perfect. You wouldn’t want anything else, would you?" ...

Continues from part five Part 6 (Day 20) It was a bright and sunny morning when they woke. They too felt bright and sunny. Happy and comfortable, they ate breakfast and dressed for the day. Cindy’s check-up with the doctor was scheduled for early that morning. The doctor had predicted that the swelling would be almost completely gone and that the bandages would be coming off. They were impressed by the rapid recovery. The doctor was good! ...

Continues from part three Part 4 (Day 12) When Cindy awoke, she realized that she was sucking gently and rhythmically on the plug locked into her mouth. She couldn’t believe that she was barely awake but already so aroused. When she turned over, the movement woke Rob, who had apparently only been lightly dozing. Cindy pointed toward her mouth and Rob obliged and removed the plug. He then started reaching for the lock at the back of her hood. Feeling impish, she reached up and stopped him. He looked into her eyes questioningly, but she ignored him, sliding down his body until her head was at his waist, she slipped her hands around his cock and began massaging it slowly and sensuously. As soon as it began to harden, she slipped it into the socket that was her mouth and began licking and sucking it through the cuff that was held in place by her hood. ...

Continues from part four Part 5 (Day 15) Cindy woke up early, her bladder screaming for release. She rolled over and nudged Rob. When he opened his eyes, she grunted at him and pointed at herself and then at the bathroom. He nodded his understanding and began the process to unlock her from her latex. It took a while, but eventually she was naked, dancing around and holding herself to avoid an accident. Rob chuckled at the sight told her to go and get cleaned up, inside and out, and to do her make-up and hair – the same old story. When she started for the bathroom, Rob stopped her and handed her the high-heeled mules that she was supposed to wear, whenever she wasn’t wearing a pair of boots. ...

Continues from part six Part 7 (Day 23) When Rob awoke and turned over, he found Cindy sitting up in bed, staring at nothing. She blinked and looked at him and gave him a weak smile. Rob took it as a good sign. “How are you feeling this morning my love?” “Hungry.” Was her only reply. “Well why don’t you go get cleaned up while I order a room service breakfast? The douche and enema tubes are in that Chasti-Permalock bag. You’ll need to use them.” ...

Continues from part two Part 3 (Day 10) In the morning, Rob sent Cindy to the bathroom to get cleaned up, ‘inside and out’, and to do her hair and makeup. With a sigh she prepared and administered her enema before taking a quick shower. She found that if she relaxed and made sure the water was warm, that the enema was not as bad as she had thought. In fact, it actually felt a little good. After drying off, she then performed the familiar rituals of hair and makeup. When she came back out, Rob presented her with the white latex panties and bra. Before he had given them to her, Rob had mounted the remote controlled, vibrating plugs into their respective sockets. ...

Chapter 1 - Joe’s Truck “Axel’s Auto,” Joe Axel said into the shop phone. “Hey Joe, it’s Kristal.” “Hey Sis. Are you in town?” “No. Which is why I’m calling.” “What’s the problem?” Joe asked. When Kristal called, there was usually a problem. He frowned as Kristal launched into a complicated explanation of the events that had left her friend Amanda stranded in Nashville, her luggage destroyed, and unable to obtain a rental car. ...

I feel this story needs a quick intro. This was inspired by one of the first pieces of erotic fiction I ever read, The Factory by Tr_Veller. It’s a similar story, but its with a genetic girl and not as much sex, still it was an amazing piece. I tried reaching out for permission to basically borrow the idea and take a trans spin on it, but haven’t heard back. So, if anyone knows Tr_Veller, I’d love to connect again. So, on to the story… ...

story continued from chapter seven Chapter 8: Big changes in my prison! Update 2 from my prison Much has changed since my last update. Most significantly, Master has acquired a new slave. She now resides in the cell next to mine. I was hoping to gain access to that cell to give me more living area, but that is not to be. No matter. Now I have a friend. I did not realize just how lonely I was. ...

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. ...

Disclaimer: All persons and businesses mentioned are fictional and are not intended to represent any actual existing person or enterprise. In short.. IT’S JUST A STORY! continued from part 3 Part 4 After cleaning himself up, William dressed and left the house for Lady Jane’s home. Although it was not close by, he decided to walk there rather than take the bus. It would give him more time to think and reconsider accepting Lady Quirt’s offer. Lady Jane never gave any exact numbers, but if it meant his mum could live in relative security, the salary must be considerable. But what would he have to do in exchange? If what he did to Andy was any indication, what other kinky things would be expected? ...

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 two Part 3 It was late when William finally returned home. Carefully he crept into the house and up the stairs to his room. He laid down on the bed, wanting to sleep. Above him was the poster of Andy and his latex catsuit. He wanted to tear down that and the other posters, but he was too exhausted after his experience at Boy!? After an hour he finally fell asleep. ...

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 one Part 2 William looked down at the model. Those eyes, nose and mouth were becoming more recognizable. Why didn’t he see it before? ...

Be careful who you meet in the park. You never know which one will turn out to be your kidnapper. Take me for example. I never expected to be kidnapped. Someone would have to notice me to kidnap me. You see until that day in the park I was the quiet kid in the back of the class not talking to anyone. Instead of hanging out with my friends I was obsessively playing the latest augmented reality app. I couldn’t get enough of the things. ...

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 part two Part Three Chapter Five Tammy awoke behind the wheel of her car. She couldn’t recall how she got there, but was very much relieved not to still be in Sweet’s Bakery. She knew she would have to deal with Natasha and the humiliation of the cake molds in the near future as well as the ‘Sweets’ revised impression of her. However right now, her main concern was getting this ordeal over and making sure Chandra was okay. “That was very entertaining, Mrs. Dufrane…” James VanNorkin’s voice suddenly filled her ears. “I’m going to be the first to order a special cake from Natasha. Perhaps, I’ll send it to Mike as a Christmas gift… That way he can have his cake and eat you too…” His laugh grated on her and there were several things she would love to say to him, but none of them would be of help to her. And trying to speak would be useless, she could feel that the gag plug had been replaced and re-inflated. She also thought she felt more and raised her hand to her cheek. The smooth rubber of the mouth corset gave hint of the underlying presence of the strap for the ring gag beneath it. Now she was triple gagged. “I see you modified your dress. I must say it’s not quite as subtly erotic as before, but I like it. By the way I see my hormone mixture is working very well… I must inform Karl, he’ll be very amused to hear so…” he continued. “They’ve grown even more. And it appears they are continuing to do so. I could enjoy staring at them all day, but time is passing, Mrs. Dufrane… You need to be moving on. Your next stop is all the way across the city…” Tammy blinked several times in disbelief as she used the rear view mirror to look at her exposed breasts. She had already taken enough grief from all her male co-workers and clients, with their eyes continually turning down from hers to stare at her D-cups. There was no way now she’d be able to get any of them to look away from her chest. “OH NO!” Tammy gasped into her gags. The GPS coming to life with Chandra’s image well bound by bandages lying halfway submerged in liquid on her back in a tank grabbed her complete attention. “As you can see I decided to keep the bandages thoroughly soaked with Karl’s aphrodisiac.” James VanNorkin laughed. “You were very much occupied, so I felt Chandra should be as well. Of course your desires for constant sexual release come naturally. Chandra’s on the other hand will be given a push. A rather large push once she has absorbed all of the liquid in the tank into her system. I seriously doubt if Nora and Gina combined will be able to satisfy her…” The tone of his words more than the actual threat they imposed sent a wave of anger through Tammy. “MU MAMAMD!” She screamed into the gag looking directly into the GPS with flames of fire spurting from her green eyes. “Bastard? Did you just call me a bastard, Mrs. Dufrane?” His voice was now sounding irritated. “Well, if I’m such a bastard then I suppose I need to adjust such comfortable surroundings…” Tammy grimaced as soon as she spoke. Her desire was to help Chandra not make matters worse for her. However the sound of the car heater shutting off told her Chandra wasn’t the one he was directing his ire at this time. Not only did the heater quit, but the air conditioning system jumped to life and directed a blast of near artic air at her chest and very wet nether region. ...

Author’s Note: This originally written piece re-creates a story whose title and author I unfortunately cannot remember. To my knowledge, it’s no longer available online, as it was part of Mason’s Tied and True Tales, a site which unfortunately was taken down before being revived with only some of its original content. I remained true to the plot and Mason’s tendency to combine fetish and rainwear themes as best I could remember, while adding my own flavor to fill in any gaps. Being denied the chance to thank the original author personally for their fine work, I hope they will settle for this homage. ...

Part 1. Getting caught. I see myself as an artist. I have turned the skill of pick pocketing into an art. I am able to asses where people carry cash and other valuables and then I usually know the best way to get my hands on it without them noticing it. My name is Manon. I am a young woman blessed with an athletic figure and I am good in running and gymnastics. I like what I do and have never been caught. I have a lot of freedom and combine my “work” with traveling to the cities around the world. My strategy is always to dress innocent and slightly sexy. In this way people do not suspect me and the men are usually distracted. ...

Chapter One – The Counseling Session Girls do not come more All-American than Amy Riggs. Nor more desirable. Amy had grown up as the big fish in a small pond. She called a small North Carolina town home and excelled at everything she tried. She was a star athlete and homecoming queen. During her senior year of high school, she tried out for the cheerleading team even though she had never cheered in her life. Of course with her charmed life, she made the team. A few short years later, this charm would not seem so grand. ...

Sarah was just a cute little High school cheerleader when she stumbled onto Sir Jeff’s website about ponygirls. She was from a small farming town in the south, and being the curious girl, she started searching for more information. She spent many nights combing the internet for information, stories, pictures, and other useful information. She found out all about the training and stable lives of ponygirls, and as she learned more, she wanted to experience it for herself. ...

(story continues from The Client Part 4)_ The Client –Part 5 by Anne Woolsey Part Five Anne awoke early the next morning. There was no sign of Julia. The memories of the previous day came flooding back, along with the fear and loathing. How could she have slept with that woman? Julia was nuts; certifiably insane, and had treated her very badly. She had kidnapped her for god’s sakes, binding and gagging and beating her! And yet as she thought these thoughts the embers of desire flared within her. She remembered their fevered lovemaking and despite her disgust at herself, she was aroused again. ...

“CRACK!” The whip lands again on my back, sending another sharp spear of pain into my gut, and with it another wave of agonizing, unful- filled desire crashed through me. “Please Master…Yes, I want it, I want it now!” I moan through clenched teeth. He steps around in front of me, smiling in mock surprise. “My, what a lusty wench! And you’ve finally admitted it! Well *now* you’ll just have to wait. I’m having fun doing just what I’m doing.” And with that he disappears again behind me, and I felt the whip descend once more, between my shoulder blades, with a thwack and a burn. With the rhythm of the whip, I slip into a delirium of pain and lust. And lost in the rhythm, I find my mind wandering through the events that had led me to this delicious and frustrating predicament. ...

As he slowly became aware of sounds around him, Brian realized something was desperately wrong. The first thing that struck him was how fuzzy his head seemed to feel. Very slowly, he tried to lift his head from off his chest. That was when the second thing struck him. His head was totally covered in what seemed to be a snug fitting hood, possibly leather. The only opening in the hood was just below the nose and he breathed deeply. ...

(story continues from The Abduction) Part Two Shelly awoke again in complete darkness, immobility and silence. Was it just her, or was she getting used to this? She lay there in the darkness assessing what she had learned so far. She had been taken aboard an actual alien spacecraft, held against her will by some mental control they were using to completely immobilize her. She was being given fluids and nutrients from an I.V. in her leg, and any body waste was being taken care of by micro-biotic creatures that had been implanted in her body. It was very odd that she had adjusted to these things now almost as if they were normal. Maybe they controlled her in that way also, making it all seems normal. ...

Sharon Sharon cursed to herself as she had to make an awkward little hop-step up a curb, causing a jingling to emanate from her breasts. She cursed her luck, cursed the choice she’d made, and above all, she cursed the short little link locked between her thigh hobbles. People stared at her as she made her forced slow, hip-swaying walk down the pedestrian mall to her office building. They always stared. Why shouldn’t they? She was out walking along in a too-short, too-tight grey-blue state correctional department dress. She hated this. She hated every waking second of this. She subconsciously tried to turn her head, to not see into the laughing eyes of the other pedestrians. For the thousandth time, the too-tight, too-tall steel collar pinched her throat at her jaw bone, stopping her. She was all too aware of the words emblazoned on the collar, in large, clear letters: CONVICTED PROSTITUTE, and under that, FLORIDA DEPT. OF CORRECTIONS. Her formerly long, beautiful hair that had hung nearly to her waist, had been cropped to a short pageboy style, so that the collar with it’s lettering and it’s large, permanent, front and rear-mounted leash rings would show from all directions. ...

Part 1 “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I comment to my friend Jim as we walked into his house. We entered the front door of the large house, and I saw the Halloween decorations were all over the hallway. Jim’s mom usually got into Halloween, I guess that’s why she was cool with this. “Why? Its not a big deal,” Jim commented casually. Maybe not for you, I thought, but didn’t say. I was about to live out one of my biggest fantasies, and I was just hoping I wouldn’t get too into it. ...

Chapter 1 I stepped off the bus and walked the short distance to the ‘Costumes and More!’ shop. I couldn’t believe I had agreed to do this, but if I was ever going to buy a car, I needed to get the money. You’ve probably seen these stores, this particular costume shop always has someone in costume out in front holding a sign and waving to the cars driving by. They seemed to like to vary the costumes, I guess to show off their selection. ...

Shyanne looked up at the judge in disbelief. She had just been sentenced to ‘community service’ which meant that she would be kept in a large public trashcan for a week. The punishment was for littering, If she littered she would be littered upon. Her parents broke down in tears as the judge gave the sentence. Their beautiful daughter didn’t deserve to be treated like trash. It was a simple mistake, throwing a cigarette butt on the sidewalk. Unfortunately the judge despised smoking and gave her a harsh sentence. A tearful Shyanne was quickly taken by police from the courtroom to their squad car and then to the mall, where she would be kept in a large trash can. The two police men were laughing and joking around as they tied Shyanne into a ball. It was pretty common for them to throw girls away since the new law had been passed. Curiously though, most men that were caught littering got away with a slap on the wrist. Shyanne had to admit though, in the back of her mind she was sort of excited. She had always wanted to be treated like an object and now would be her chance. She quickly dispelled these thoughts and continued crying. She was carried by the police men to the middle of the mall next to a pillar where the large trash can was sitting. Most of her family and even a few other bystanders were watching. Her family was giving encouragement and expressing sorrow. “It’ll be okay, It’ll only for a week, Be strong and you will make it”. One said. Another said, “I love you and I’m sorry you don’t deserve this”. Some of the bystanders took out their phones and started recording. It was a very embarrassing time for Shyanne. Shyanne was naked and tied up to the point that she couldn’t move when the police officers picked her up and slid her into the trashcan. She slipped down feeling the cool plastic on her skin as she sunk to the bottom. There was hardly anything in the trashcan because it had just been emptied. Her crying continued as she watched the swing lid come over her and then she heard a click as they padlocked the lid onto the can. She was really stuck now, she was just garbage now for a week. For whatever reason through her tears she felt an excitement building inside her, although she tried to suppress it. It wasn’t long before most of the bystanders dispersed. Some of her relatives dispersed but some stayed and talked to her through the can. She couldn’t reply back because of the gag in her mouth, though. Her father hugged the can and pressed his tear filled face against it and expressed his sorrow over the situation. It was at this moment that the first person came up to the trashcan, ignoring the crazy crying man that was hugging the can, and threw his half eaten ice cream cone into the garbage. Shyanne saw light briefly as the swing door came open and she felt something cold suddenly as the ice cream hit her skin. She had an involuntary orgasm when this happened. Nobody noticed but she still turned bright red and felt very embarrassed. Eventually all her relatives left except her mother, who sat next to the garbage can in a chair as if looking out for her daughter. Her mother watched as many people came by to get rid of their trash. She watched as they threw trash onto her daughter. When they did this she would protest and tell them that that her beautiful daughter was in there. Her mother reluctantly left though after the security guard escorted her out for ‘disruption’. Most of the mall had closed at this point so Shyanne was left alone. She had stopped crying and accepted that she was just trash for the week. She had started to get stiff and hoped that she could make it for 6 more days. The next day came along and people started to fill the halls. For some reason Shyanne had another involuntary orgasm last night when the janitor opened the garbage, looked down at her, ignored her, and pulled the bag out. The janitor then put the bag on the floor and crushed the trash down as much as he could. Shyanne, then in the afterglow of an amazing orgasm, felt herself get stuffed back into the can and locked in. To the janitor it was just trash. Throughout day 2 Shyanne cried periodically and had plenty of orgasms that she despised having. She tried to deny her sexual feelings for objectification but she was losing the fight. Throughout the day all sorts of trash piled up around her. In the morning mostly coffee and cups were thrown on her with the occasional paper plate or half eaten food item. Sometimes she would have boxes shoved onto her which sometimes hurt. From afternoon to evening she would have food thrown on her and candy wrappers, plastic bottles, paper products and just about every trash item she could think of. Day 3 & 4 went about the same. The trash in her bag was now packed tightly around her from the janitor packing it at night. The only eventful thing that happened to Shyanne during these days was when a man peed into the can because of a dare from his friends. Although disgusting Shyanne drank it because it was hard for her to get a drink in the trashcan. Her parents came around frequently to comfort her throughout her ordeal. On one occasion her father accidentally spilled ink on his shirt. He was playing with a pen and it exploded. “Ah crap this was my favorite shirt”. he raged. ...

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. ...

The three halfling women standing in the courtroom were as different as three young halfling females could possibly be. They were all short, of course, with round faces; plump, big-breasted butterballs who were only the slightest bit over half the height of human women. They were all barefoot, with hair growing from the tops of their feet as thickly as from the tops of their heads. And they were all thirty-three or older, since only halflings who had ‘come of age’ were allowed in the predominantly human city of Gilderhaven. ...

Peppa sat on the edge of the sofa nervously chewing on a finger nail, she was worried that she had gone too far and deep down she knew that she had, she also knew that Juliet could make her life a misery; in fact she already had made her life a misery. She was Peppa’s supervisor and she was a bully, she was forever belittling her and blaming her for every little thing that went wrong in the office, and because Juliet did it her co-workers followed suit. And Peppa hated them for it. ...

“Damage report!” Science officer Ronald Woods glanced up from his console. “Minimal damage, Captain,” he reported. “Only one hit, and it doesn’t appear to have done any damage. However, that one hit did strike near where our computer lies closest to the hull. I would like to run a complete diagnostic to ensure the computer is undamaged.” Captain Rebecca James glanced over her shoulder. “How long will that take?” “Approximately six hours.” ...

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. ...

Melissa Washington staggered down the hall, stunned. She could feel blood trickling down from her forehead, feel more trickling down her right leg. Shaking her head in a vain attempt to clear blurred vision, she asked herself what had just happened. It was supposed to be a routine inspection tour of her newest hospital. Well, not exactly new, just new to her. Apparently, all of the facilities of her newest purchase were old, worn, and badly in need of repair. Including, it seemed, the boiler. She had just turned away from the boiler room, her mind already working on ways she could upgrade things here with a minimum of expense, when a sound made her turn. She saw a flash, and the next thing she knew, she was staggering along the hall. ...

(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. ...

Stella Murdoch knew it was going to be one of “those” weekends when she woke on Saturday morning to the realization that her breasts were gone. Now, a discovery like this would normally be the cause of at least a little bit of hysteria, but the party the night before had been a major blast, and Stella was still more than a bit hazy in the thinking department. So, instead of jumping up and screaming, as she might normally have done, Stella simply laid in bed, her hands exploring the flat area that had, just the night before, housed a pair of firm, medium sized breasts. Absently, she wondered how one might go about reporting such a loss: ...

“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. ...

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. ...

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. ...

continued from part 6 Part 7: How sweet is Revenge I took out her gag before I totally drifted of the sleep. I wanted to make sure she was safe. She looked like she was going to snarl at me them thought better of it. Sometime, much later, she was thrashing about and woke me up. “Please master I need to go.” She pleaded. I was angry at being woken up and was about to say no when I realized she was in my bed and the pallet wrap was bound to leak. Reluctantly, I got up, found the paramedic scissors and cut her out. She raced off to the toilet. ...

The yacht “Parsifal” was churning through the waters of the Pacific Ocean when one of the passengers saw a glint of sunlight off glass among the swells. When the boat changed course and came close to the site, the crew and passengers saw that the glint had come from a large bottle floating in the water. Using a net on a pole, one of the crewmen retrieved the bottle and took it to the yacht’s captain. There was a rolled-up sheaf of paper inside the bottle, so the captain smashed the bottle, unrolled the papers, and read the message written on them: ...

continued from part one Part Two The two women were efficient and professional in spite of the fact that I was naked and tied to the stair rail. Sandy went about cleaning the kitchen, doing dishes and laundry, while Jan vacuumed and dusted the living room. For the most part, I was ignored. There were occasional comments about how ridiculous the situation was and a few about how I looked all tied up but mostly they talked about normal things. Of course I was frustrated and embarrassed and I tried to get loose. Jan had secured my handcuffs to the railing and tied the final knots so that they were out of reach. My futile attempts to escape went unnoticed. They finally finished cleaning the upper level and came back to sit in the living room. ...

The night was dark, a million stars twinkled overhead. As she crested a hill there was the moon, brilliantly full, hanging low in the sky. Carolyn glanced at Lee Anne. Her soft, white sweater, stretched tight across her tits fairly glowed in the moonlight. Carolyn resisted the urge to cop a feel. She had seen Lee’s tits, often, but it never went farther than looking. Any touching was reserved for the back: neck rubs, back rubs. They showered together … sometimes. Temptation almost overwhelmed her then. ...

(story continues from Understanding) Part 2 Entering his kitchen, Brad James stared at the sight of himself standing at the stove. He wasn’t surprised to see Jenny, his daughter, in his body, not after yesterday. But the sight of himself wearing a bright flowered robe that barely covered his thighs just didn’t seem right. As if sensing his thoughts, Jenny turned. Seeing him, she blushed vividly. “You were in bed,” she said, a bit lamely, “and I didn’t have anything else of yours to wear.” ...

Kyle woke to the nightmare that was his new reality. Sun streamed into the room sending harsh shadows through the bars of his crib. He lay in a ball, clutching himself, hungry beyond hunger. If he had indeed been an infant he’d be bawling his head off. She walked into the room, bent over the crib. Good morning, little one. She said that every morning, though he had no idea what it meant. While his own language was full of harsh sounds, hers was soft, almost song-like. He couldn’t tell where one word ended and another began. ...

continued from part 4 Part 5: Slave to Myself. I was still buzzing from last weekend. Finding it hard to concentrate at work. Finding myself thinking how I hated to be used. How I would hate to be a slave as that other man obviously was. Surprised that I could not get the thoughts out of my head. I wanted more! I wanted much more. I wanted to feel the tight constrictive bondage and worse still I wanted to be under her control. To be in her power. To be her slave! Oh hell, were did that thought come from. What has she done to me? ...

He was tired and ready to get home to relax. His last stop, before home, was to the local department store. It was busy and he’d had to park far from the door. He was trudging his way across the parking lot when he spotted her. The hood was up on her SUV and she was not dressed for this cool spring breeze. As tired as he was he knew he must see what he could do, especially since he was parked right next to her. “Can I help you?” He inquired. She spun around, startled by his voice. He was struck by her eyes. They seemed to see right through him, pull him inside her. He got the impression she must have spoken, but he missed it. Damn, he thought. She smiled, knowingly…..“I said, I would really appreciate your help! I need a jump, um, I mean my battery needs a boost, are you near here?” ...

“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.” ...

That crackling sound is starting to get to me now. I know she cannot help it, but it is seriously starting to get on my nerves. The source of that terrible sound is in front of me on a table. A sturdy table with a sole occupant who has very little choice in the matter. Every tiny movement she makes is accompanied by a faint crackling sound, and no matter how hard she tries she is quite unable to stay still. And I cannot really blame her. If it was me on that table I doubt I would be able to keep still either. ...

This story was an entry into the 2011 Winter Fetish Story Contest - Author’s note – this is a piece of fiction, but the scenes in the studio are all elements of real life experiences between the author and his Mistress. I was looking through the online job ads when I spied an item which intrigued me. “Have a strong personality and mind? Scientific study looking for candidates for research into personality traits – Successful candidates will be paid $2000 for a 1 day session. Phone….” ...

Author’s note – this is a piece of fiction, but the scenes in the studio are all elements of real life experiences between the author and his Mistress. Story entry in the 2011 Winter Fetish Stories Contest I was looking through the online job ads when I spied an item which intrigued me. “Have a strong personality and mind? Scientific study looking for candidates for research into personality traits – Successful candidates will be paid $2000 for a 1 day session. Phone….” ...

(story continues from Lillith’s Tails Part 6: Lillith’s Children) Lillith’s Tails Part 7: Lillith’s Passion Sleepy awareness dawns, the darkness slowly gives way to a dim red radiance that illuminates nothing. Floating suspended in fluid warmth, a thought drifted idly across the newly awakened mind. “Who am I?” Memories flicker just out of reach, fractured images and half formed sounds dance at the edge of hearing. “Where am I?” Unseen hands grope in the gloom tracing across soft shapes the thick syrup matching body heat so well that everything seems to blur into one mass. ...

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. ...

continued from part one Part 2: It was Dark - And Getting Darker. I was at work; it was a perfectly fine autumn day, not a cloud in the sky or any worries in my head. I opened my email inbox and there it was with attachments. Shit it can’t be. She doesn’t know my work email. But somehow she did. Of course she did she had had access to my wallet for days. My business cards are in there. ...

continued from part two Part 3: The Test. Oh shit another email from her!! It was sent, yet again to my work. I’m for the chop if the boss finds out. Especial if he sees those photos!! I don’t dare open it here so I send it to my home email and hope and pray that it was not urgent like last time. Still its late Friday afternoon so I will be home soon. ...

Now I have always fantasized about being a woman. It has always fascinated me on how much they can control some men. The way they move and dress to seduce a man’s senses all while they get what they can. Then one day I found out what it is all about. Some friends invited me out to drinks, I was approached by a beautiful woman who sat down next to me, and we began to talk over our drinks. I do not know who was buying the drinks but we were both drunk by the end of the night. As we left the bar, she hailed a cab and we both got in but it was not long into our trip that I fell asleep. ...

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. ...

Part 1: The Taking It was supposed to be just a quiet, ordinary evening at home. Naturally being Taken was always a possibility ever since the law had been ratified over 30 years ago in 1977, but you never plan for it to happen. You don’t plan for it, even though it happens to at least once to 85% of all women in their lifetimes. But you just don’t talk about these things, so you never think about them either. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Green Chapter 3: Fairies & the Sacred Glade) Chapter 4: Little Megan The moon broke over the beautiful glen, its dark oaks royal, its central pond as smooth as crystal. On one mossy bank stood two erect shapes, leaf-wound and trembling, the humans within only denoted by the glassy eyes shimmering wetly between the clamping fronds. Megan and Chlorophene shuddered in their slow orgasms, moving from low point to high over long hours. The plants that held them facilitated them along, sensing their excitement from their pulse, their temperature and their skin’s salt content. When it was required, the foliagic awareness would shove its root deeper into their sexes, rising them slightly in their wrappings, making them purr. ...

Part 1: Forcibly Facetimed Jim followed me into the room and the door thudded behind us. I dropped my suitcase in the middle of the floor and allowed my weight to slowly tip forward until I landed face-down on the soft mattress. I loved the feeling of collapsing into bed. I could hear Jim walking around raving about the room and the view, but my mind was on more important things. Sleep. I was exhausted. Men could sleep anywhere. I think Jim slept all 16 hours of the flight here while I managed maybe 1. So, not only was I tired, but I was very, very cranky. Which was made clear during the drive from the airport as we argued 12 rounds about everything between my insane mother in-law to how Jim must have been aiming for every single pot hole in the road. Hey, I said I was cranky. Jim could be a pill too though. I laid face down with my hands at my side, lifelessly. I hated the thought of even having to stand back up to get under the sheets. I cherished several minutes of rest as I inhaled the fresh scent of detergent from the bedspread. ...

Continues from part one_ She lifted the cape up off my head and I hoped that would be the last of my ordeal. I squinted to see, in the well illuminated shop, as she placed the cape once more over the chair next to me. It rustled loudly and shimmered as it slid into position, the bright halogen lighting bouncing off it. It amazed me to think just a minute ago this apparently delicate looking silken cape had taken me to the edge of existence. My face was still bright red and perspiring from the ordeal as she picked up a towel to dry it. ...

It is dark, inky black unseeable dark, no light at all. Try as I might I could not move. I seemed to be wrapped in something sticky. Something cold and very tight held me in its embrace. I could wriggle my whole body, however my hands felt like they had been molded to my thighs and my legs and feet were bound together as though they were in one piece. ...

(C) Copyright 2010 - MindSplinter - Published under Creative Commons License (Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike) 3.0 Unported (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/) Kelly and I embark upon a backpack tour of Europe, but she probably wishes that she hadn’t told me about her passing interest in exhibition and the thrill of the possibility of being caught. Kelly had been staring at the drool spot forming between her feet on the forest floor for over an hour now, silently fuming at the fact that she had been suckered into this so easily. What had started out as a guided tour of my old stomping grounds when I had been in the Army had turned into an unexpected exhibition bondage scene in the middle of the forest at the Nuremberg Zoo. ...

The glow of torches faintly illuminated the cold stone blocks forming the walls of the empty room. Slowly, the glow increased, until, without fanfare, the torch bearers entered, a pair of dusky beauties wrapped in gossamer robes. As they entered, they separated, moving to the corners, then turning and silently striding to the rear corners. As they did so, four muscular men in loincloths entered, carrying between them a burden that writhed and grunted. A second pair of torch bearers came next, moving to the front corners of the room. Finally, a tall, almost painfully thin man wearing white robes entered. ...

The snow felt like tiny ice-picks as Wes trudged through the drifts on the sidewalk. He left the Highlander’s engine on so the defroster would be able to keep up with the windshield wipers. Wes had checked the note twice and the address written on it belonged to a small two-story townhouse with a Christmas wreath on the door and a glowing plastic Santa on the doorstep. There were no other lights on inside or out, though the neighbors had gone to great lengths to try and illuminate the entire block with their holiday lighting. ...

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?” ...

(C) Copyright 2010 - MindSplinter - Published under Creative Commons License (Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike) 3.0 Unported (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/) During a recent conversation with my friend Kelly she mentioned that short of being able to goad a Dom into having his way with her by putting ideas into his head, she found bondage to become rather boring after struggling for some time. I told her that I was sure that I could come up with a scene that would keep her quite busy, naturally she rose to the occasion and challenged me to prove it. ...

Chapter Three Part 7 (Flora) Flora was, in a way, enjoying herself immensely. Although the corset portion of the rubber body shaper was uncomfortably tight, making her feel a bit breathless, the rest of the outfit was another matter. Her head was tightly encased in the helmet and felt, well… tight, as if she had been drinking. The balloon gag filling her mouth distended her cheeks, and gave her a kind of primitive oral satisfaction, like she got from performing fellatio. The fiendish attachments of the corselet felt entirely too nice, and she squirmed a tiny bit, as little as the steel bar at her back allowed. The look in the mirror had really excited her, for she hardly recognized herself. Her face had taken on the appearance of an ebony female android, and her waist was now so tiny as to almost be unbelievable. ...

Chapter Four Part 10 (Jason) Jason did not have to wait long before Flora’s shiny black face appeared at the door, followed shortly by the rest of her exquisite form. Once free of the hand truck, she strutted awkwardly over to the treadmill at Mandy’s prodding. Jason squirmed in embarrassment as Flora’s amazed eyes took in his situation. He was acutely conscious of his bald head plainly visible under the layer of clear rubber. Mandy gave a short speech about her excuses for “punishing” them, then began fiddling with equipment. ...

The click clack of high heels could be heard as the maid walked into the Den, off the main hall. The maid, dressed, head to toe black latex stooped to offer the ladies their drinks. The ladies didn’t acknowledge the maid, but continued their conversation regardless. The ladies were sat on a half moon sofa that measured fifteen feet across. They were all talking to one Lady in particular, the Lady sat on the lounger across from the half moon sofa, the Ladies round her were dressed in latex, as were the Lady herself. The Lady Bella was holding court, as was her way. ...

This story is covered by the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/ ) I was taking a stroll through a small public park when I spotted her. She was sitting quietly, relaxing underneath a tall tree, and thinking to herself. From a distance, she didn’t seem to be all that unusual, except for the maid costume. A carefully detailed maid costume, probably a cosplay outfit purchased from one of those stores which sell them in bulk. There were a lot of people who bought them, but rarely wore them outdoors or outside a convention. Still, besides that one oddity, nothing else out of the ordinary. Just a girl who decided to have a nice private picnic by herself. ...

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. ...

(story continues from Dreams) Part Two 3 Years Later 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. ...

continued from part 6 Part 7 She felt that her public ordeal wold never come to an end. For almost two hours Walter had made her walk around downtown, presenting herself in her strict and bizarre slave uniform. She was forced to stroll through a mall and present herself to the public. Her cheeks were red from shame, sometimes she had to fight her tears again and again. Over the time she got hot in her heavy rubber slave outfit and all the plastic. She felt her sweat drippling over her skin, the layers of rubber and plastic sometimes seemed to be glued onto her. Whenever she tried to fight Walters orders, she was treated with the electric discipline system and since the remote enema system was put to good use, she felt like being pregnant in her eighth month now. And still there was a lot of liquid in the container in her backpack, as the weight told her. ...

continued from part 2Chapter 3: Basic Maid Training, Advanced Failure I couldn’t believe that Nurse Five seriously intended for me to begin my training as one of the hotel staff dressed in this maid’s uniform. I thought that the only possible explanation was that the maid sent with my clothes by Mistress Three had picked up the wrong things, and that Nurse Five would never question something she thought was from Mistress Three. Perhaps it was a joke? ...

She was beautiful, the kind of girl mama wouldn’t let you bring home, she was bad but I like that, I liked the way she made me feel the way she would touch me, the way her skin felt against mine. She looked at me softly, I looked back and whispered to her, “Will you hold it?” Without a word she reached her hand slowly down stroking my belly until she got to it, I could feel her warm fingers slowly closing around it, soft but firm as she gently stroked and petted, I could feel the warm soft skin of her other hand gently cup my balls. ...

continued from part 1Chapter 2: Be Careful What You Wish For In the morning I headed down to reception, my head still full of memories from the night before. I could think of nothing else but sex and tight, shiny rubber. Reality was intent on rearranging my priorities. Standing in front of the receptionist’s desk, I felt nervous and somehow inadequate. Once again, she fixed me with that smile. All I could think was that she knew I was staring at her breasts. As always, she had the lights off above her, with only the tiny desk lamp illuminating her face. I could hardly see her breasts in the dim light, but I could see enough. My imagination did the rest, perhaps too well. ...

continued from part 5 Part 6 “Ok, slut, it`s about time to dress you for a little shopping tour!” Walter looked at his slave RS and smiled. RS had just finished to lick the porrridge out of the steel bowl in front of her. She did not dare to raise her head and look at Walter. Especially after she knew that the thick rubber mask which covered her head and face showed clear signs of the slimy substance she had to lick up wih her tongue for breakfast. Walter stood up, walked around the table and unchained his rubber property. ...

I got the idea because of Valentine’s Day. For weeks we had been turning out hundreds of the cutest little teddy bears holding a little lace heart that said “Im yours” at our stuffed animal factory. We had started the company soon after Ted and I got married out of college. It had seemed like the perfect business for us. I liked to use my design skills and Ted loved stuffed animals and had worked at a toy factory during college. ...

This story was an entry into the 2010 Winter Fetish Story Contest She awoke, very slowly becoming aware of her surroundings. Her groggy eyes slowly began to focus. Her confusion only grew as her vision cleared. The room she was in was dimly lit, light entering through only a small window in the wall. She appeared to be in an unfinished basement, judging by the gray concrete which made up the floor and walls. The room was un-insulated, making it cold and even less pleasing to be in. She turned and saw some kind of computer setup against the wall. A seed of fear slowly started to grow. ...

This story was an entry into the 2010 Winter Fetish Story Contest “Steven, Please come to my office immediately. Thank you, Melissa ” I had no idea that simple, one-line e-mail would change my life. It was almost eight o’clock on a Friday night and I was getting ready to leave work. I was single and didn’t have a large group of friends, so it was going to be another weekend alone. I’d probably go to the gym, maybe a run, watch the game on Sunday and, of course, a session or two of self-bondage. ...

This is one of my warped fantasies Jimmy had lately been having strange sexual fantasies about being turned into a moving walking talking female sex doll. These fantasies had been disturbing him as he didn’t know how to react to them. Every night when he returned from work he started to research this fetish by watching sleazy videos and looking at transformation stories, but what he didn’t think to consider that any one was monitoring him which became a fatal mistake for him. ...

A LITTLE HISTORY. My name is S M Ackerman and I am the diarist for (The Diary of Miss Whippy Cane) she is a professional dominatrix and the owner of an established house that caters for the fetishistic desires of selected clients. The story you are about to be granted access to is taken from my client notes, all names have been altered for her clients privacy, and the copy write is held in full by myself, S M Ackerman. This tale is not included in, or an exert from, the above diary and is made available free of charge to all genuine readers over the age of 18 in the UK or as is applicable else where please. ...

It was Friday, and the clock slowly ticked away the hours and minutes in the quiet office. As Cathy sat at her desk beside the window, she felt the rays of the late afternoon sun penetrating her thin silk blouse, warming her soft, rounded breasts, her small, pink nipples swollen under the caressing silk. The clasp of her black fishnet stockings, and the firm constriction of her thighs by her short, black leather skirt contrasted comfortably with the soft, caressing looseness of her blouse. ...

“Time to get back to work!” Angie declared as she pushed away her lunch tray littered with empty fast food wrappers. She flipped some of her long chestnut curls as she waited for her two friends sitting at the table to join her exit of the mall food court. The redhead dressed in black, Jan, still nibbling her way through a vegetarian pita, nodded. “Yeah, can’t afford to lose a job in this economy. Even if it sucks.” ...

I am a single guy that can barely afford food and rent let alone the internet. A friend gave me a computer after he had upgraded his. This computer had wireless internet inside of it and I curiously checked to see if there were any wireless connections available. Sure enough there were three showing and one had no lockout so I clicked it to see if I could start surfing the internet. Being the first time on the internet in a long time it was overwhelming the information that was now at my fingertips. I have a few fetishes that I thought were kind of weird and wanted to see if there was anything on the internet about them. I found out that there were many people into the things I was into and felt better about how screwy I thought that they were. I had a whole list of favorite sites that I would frequent always hoping for some new hot stuff. I even began searching websites to possibly buy all this stuff like ruber doll suits, dildos, butt-plugs and more S&M items. I was late at work one night and when I got back to my apartment I noticed my bedroom light on. I thought I had turned it off in the morning, but ah well. I walked in to my apartment cautiously. I walked slowly into my room and I see laying on my bed many of the items I fantasized about buying for myself, including items I never thought of like shoes. I then was touched on the shoulder and was told that I could co-operate and dress up willingly or dress up while mostly paralyzed. I said with a nervousness in my voice I will try willingly, cuz who knows what would of happened otherwise. I was guided towards my bed with all this feminine looking stuff laying on it. I then saw the person who had broken in and bought all this stuff. She said she had seen all my web activity from the free internet I had been stealing from her. She said we had better get started on getting my new clothes on. I was hesitant but her friend stepped out from the bathroom and I am now trapped. I was then again told that I can be paralyzed or dress willingly. I agreed to dressing willingly. I stripped down right there. After I had undressed they wiped this cream on my dick and balls and it burned like hell. We then started with these latex pants, they had what appeared to be a butt-plug in them. There was also a place for my dick to be stuffed into. They took their time putting my dick in the panties properly, it seemed to be more of a chastity belt like one I had wanted to order. The butt-plug was then inserted into my butt. It hurt like hell because they forced it in without mercy. I had tears coming from my eyes and was laughed at. The panties were then pulled all the way up. it had a small zipper that made it fit extremely snug and I had to suck my gut in for it to even fit on me, this made them smile even more. They then pulled out the plug, or so I had thought. The main part of the plug was pulled out I was told. They told me to look in the mirror and see that now anyone has direct access to my pussyhole. My asshole was being kept open by the base of the plug and you could see into my asshole. They showed me how easy it was to put three fingers into my ass without any effort. They both laughed and said bigger things can even go in with ease too. I was slapped on the ass and was told that we needed to finish up. They continued to dress me into a rubber like suit that had a head on it. The suit was very tight and felt like a nylon meets plastic material, a feeling that was like no other. The crotch area was open so the access to my pussyhole, as they called it, was still accessible . With it on the plastic or whatever the suit was made from made it more difficult to move. It was almost like I was hit with some really strong muscle relaxers or something. The mask was almost ready to put on my head. They told me to open my mouth and I opened my mouth in compliance when they put this very large plastic ring in my mouth that was attached to the mask. The mask was pulled on more and I could see out of the eyes and it was weird looking out of them, everything in front of me was clear but the edges and corners were a blurry blue. The zipper was pulled up the back and the mask and full body suit was now on me tight as could be. They made some minor adjustments and it did feel a little more comfortable after they did that. I then heard a click behind my head clearly knowing they were locking the suit onto me. They hooked up something to the chest with hoses, I heard what sounded like a pump and my chest got much tighter. They stopped and unhooked the hoses. They then took me too the mirror to show me what I looked like in the mirror. To my horror I looked exactly like a blow-up love doll with huge tits. A finger went in my mouth and I heard, there’s nothing worse than an untrained mouth that won’t stay open like a dolls just like yours. I wanted to run but my escape was blocked, plus I would of looked really silly running down the halls looking like I did not to mention I probably couldn’t run too fast. That made me think, are we staying here? Are we leaving? No sooner they said, enough chit chat, we have to finish you up. They started to put a tight corset on me, I could feel the pressure on my stomach it was quite unbearable while they were tightening it. This made it very difficult to breath. It also forced me to have a straighter back with my chest more pointing forward. They finished it all off with a maids outfit and a wig. They put some tight shoes on me and we then all left my room. My heart started pounding like hell and I started to tremble. I tried speaking but all came out was noises out of the ring gag that was in my mouth. I was told, don’t worry you will only experience all the stories you read while on my internet, experience what was in the videos you watched on my internet and I will make money off of you for payback at a hefty interest rate for all the internet you have stolen from me. We walked out my apartment door and they locked it. We walked to their car that was in the parking lot. Thankfully I didn’t see anyone dressed as I was. We drove for what seemed like hours only to arrive at some big house with many cars in the parking lot and yard. Right as we get out of the car, a hobble chain was attached to my legs. My arms were then pulled behind me. I think they were putting them into an arm binder. I felt my arms go back farther and it hurt like hell. I know they put me into an arm binder by the way it feels. It was confirmed after I was asked if the arm binder felt like I thought it would. My answer again only made noises, and she said I thought so with excitement. We slowly walked up these stairs into this house. We were greeted by a beautiful Dominatrix. I was handed over like a piece of meat, a sex slave for my new owner. I found out that the suit wouldn’t be coming off for over a month! The Dominatrix was told I should be a perfect sex doll for anyone’s use and she wanted payment for such a doll and for its use. The Dominatrix was told I would do anything including being locked up any way she saw fit. Also it is allowed to make any video from any session as long as she gets copies. With that the lady I apparently stole internet from left and I was left there in the hands of my new owner for over a month apparently. I will be video taped and most likely pictures will be taken. I am now glad no one can see my face. A numbered bar-code patch was stuck onto my rubber skin, number 129 or Rubber Doll Michelle. It took only minutes for them to log me into their sales system on their computer. I then saw some TV sets with all kinds of sexual things going on. There was a ‘Just In’ section and I saw a color bar test screen with my number and name, this made me nervous as hell. The Dominatrix patted me on the shoulder and said not to worry as if I enjoyed the internet as much as she was told I did I will enjoy my stay here. I was then taken to what was now my room for when a customer shows up and wants to use me. I saw this thing that I could clearly tell it was to lock someone in place into a doggy position. We walked right by it and went to a bathroom area. I was then flushed out with an enema. Since these latex pants kept my asshole open I had no choice but to have it expelled over and over until I was totally cleaned out. I was then brought back to be locked down to the thing in the middle of the room. My legs were locked to the floor. I was then forced to get on my knees and bent over the contraption. A strap was pulled over my back going under my arms effectively holding me into place. Yet, another strap was used to hold my arms down, not like it needed to be done as there was no escaping the arm binder. A hook and strap then was attached to my head and and then was hooked to the hands part of my arm binder. The strap was tightened and it made my head tilt backward so I was forced to look forward. A realistic rubber cock was put in front of my face then there was adjustments made and it was then shoved into my mouth. Since there was the big ring gag holding my mouth open I had no choice but to accept the dick into my mouth. They walked behind me and hooked a fucking machine up to my ass. It wasn’t turned on just yet. I was told that the fucking machine will fuck me anyway, but if I fail to suck on the dick the fucking machine will also shock me. There were two cameras already on me! I am already internet material! A switch was flipped on and I was being fucked by a machine and was also being shocked at the same time. I screamed for a moment and was yelled at to suck on my dick that was in my mouth. As soon as I started sucking on the dick that was in my mouth the shocking did stop like I was told. Some kind of fluid started oozing out of the dick, I was told that it was nourishment and once it’s all gone the fucking machine won’t shock me anymore. Every now and then it’d be too much for me to keep sucking and swallowing the stuff coming from the dick gag. I would be shocked and I would scream and sometimes I could not get enough energy still to keep sucking so I was shocked continuously without mercy. There were points I was crying from the shocks it was so bad. From what seemed to be like 30 minutes I finally finished off the drink. The fucking machine did not shock me anymore but still relentlessly fucked my ass. I was still whimpering from the shocks I had just received. My moans and cries from there on sounded like I was in total pleasure as I moaned out with every pump of the fucking machine. I was then left to my machine fate. I try to remember what stories I have read. What stories will they re-enact first? What videos will the remake? They made me into a rubber sex doll so I have to think what Rubber Doll Stories did I read lately. I also am dwelling on some of the freaky stories and sites I visited just out of curiosity…. Why O’ why didn’t I just get internet on my own……

Jared was walking his dog in the park when he saw this beautiful woman he had been eyeing every evening he took his dog to the park. She was perfect in every way, 5'10", long blond hair, blue eyes, and a nice tan. She had nice legs and her chest was a size 36C, Jared was just to scared to ask her out. He would pass her every evening and smile but not say a word. She worked down at the local pharmacy and when he went to get his prescription medication for his headaches he would try his best to start a conversation with her, but he would always be to afraid and just say “Hi, thank you for my medication”. ...

I went to my local hairdresser’s downtown. It was late and I was worried they had closed. As I got to the door, a young blonde was just about to flip the closed sign. Noticing my disappointment she hesitated and then smiling, opened the door for me. “I think I can fit you in!” she remarked. “That’s a relief, thank you,” I replied. As I stepped into the salon, she turned the sign, locked the door behind me and closed the blinds. “I’m definitely closed now,” she smiled, “What can I do for you?” ...

Part One It was the end of summer in New Jersey I was 17 years old and very unhappy with my life, because for the last two years, my parents had left the country due to my father’s work contract overseas. They left me with my aunt and uncle to avoid disturbing my school schedule however, life with them was unbearable and I decided to run away and make my own arrangements. I packed the few belongings I had, drew the $875.00 I had saved from part time job out of the bank, purchased an airline ticket to Miami Fl. ...

John finally hit the enter key on his PC. That was the last line of code for the programming of his new machine. He created it for his partner David who was a huge fan of mummification. He decided to make Davids mummification easier and better, he’d use his skills as a selfmade engineer work for his benefit. He’d studied on his own, taken some classes online, but never finished any formal training. His day job as a Property Inspector helped keep the two of them financially stable. David volunteered in most local theater productions, both onstage and behind the scenes. He did have a parttime job at a local store to help out. ...

(story continues from The Survey) Part Two I had no way of knowing how much time had passed, blindfolded as I was. It seemed like hours had gone by since I heard Ms Simms drive away. Suddenly, I heard a car pull into the drive. Was it her or my wife? Or, was it someone else? My imagination was driving me crazy! The door opened and someone walked in. At first there was no sound. I listened closely for a clue as to who had come in. finally, I heard a zipper open followed by a few clicks. Whoever was there had started taking pictures. The next thing I knew, the blindfold was removed and I saw Ms Simms standing in front of me with a digital camera. ...

“Please mistress, please, no, not today, I can’t face a walk, not today” I was pleading, but I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. Mistress has made up her mind, and once made up, there is very little that will change it. Least of all the pleadings of her poor naked slave. “Oh come come my dear” she purred “You know how you so love the fresh air, and Bruno will so be looking forwards to seeing you, won’t he ?” ...

continued from part 4 A fifth part written by Colloredo Reading the story “The Piano Teacher by Rbbral” inspired me to take the subject further. I think the subject has some good potential to develop in many ways, here is the first part of a few more to come. Walter took a strange device RS had never seen before. Obviously it was some sort of gag. The part which was to be slipped into her mouth consisted of three parts, made of black rubber. The middle part was shaped like a short but thick and strong penis, a short length of rubber tube was running through it, designed to make her swallow whatever Walter wanted. Connected to this with small tubes were two rubber cushions. The other side ended in the red feeding tube and three rubber bulbs which allowed it to inflate the three parts individually. All this was mounted on a piece of thick, transparent rubber. ...

My girlfriend’s family owns a beach house, a nice little two-bedroom plus other rooms. We had often gone there for a weekend, but this time it was special - - the private beach was clothes-optional for the weekend! Joining us that weekend was her sister Deb; I don’t think Deb thought much of me, and she was not my favorite person, though I tried to hide it. After dinner and a few drinks, we walked along the beach; Cindy was topless - - her tits were small but nicely shaped, and did not bounce with the lack of support. I had on my shorts and Deb, whose body is kind of bulky, favored us all by not wearing anything revealing. I guess the beer loosened my tongue because as we walked along, I made comments such as “look at that pair of fried eggs” and “she should put something on those mosquito bites.” The sisters said nothing, but when we returned to the house and I had taken a leak, Cindy ordered me to lie down on the single bed. We had done some light bondage before, many time she had tied me to the bed and then played with my cock; she could bring me to orgasm that way, but I really wished that she would blow me. “You were a bad boy tonight, insulting some of those girls. You don’t know how hurtful that is. Just like when you had to walk through the locker room when your penis was smaller than the rest of the boys. You need some punishment so you won’t do that again!” Ouch! She was right. I had never told her of this frustration but she might have guessed since my package was not that large. She bought out the leather cuffs and put them on my wrists and ankles and then secured me to the frame of the bed. But rather than play with me, she turned off the lights and went into the next room. And that’s how I spent the night. In the morning, she woke me and released one wrist and handed me a portable urinal to relieve myself. Then she reattached the cuff to the bed and gave me her news. “Im on call this weekend. (She’s a nurse.) And I have to leave. Max will be here later this morning and the two of them can decide what to do with you. I’ll be back in the morning.” Max was Deb’s boyfriend. I had never met him but no good could come of this. I begged Cindy’s forgiveness but she walked out without further comment. An hour later, in walked Deb and Max. Max was a girl! Maxine. And if Deb was butch, Max was even more so. Max was holding a wooden stock which she put under my neck. Then the released one of my hands and put it into place; when I resisted as they put the other one in place, Max grabbed my crotch and started to squeeze. I knew I could not resist and meekly put my other wrist into the space. The two parts of the stocks closed and I heard the click of a padlock. Then they released my ankles and stood me up; there I was with my arms in “surrender” position on either side of my head. “We have plans for you,” said Deb, as she tied a rope onto the ring in the front of the stock. “Let’s go.” They led me down to the water’s edge and the small raft which went with the property. We pushed off and I wondered if they were going to take me out to the big raft in the lake and leave there. As Max paddled, Deb tied floatation devices onto the ends of the stocks. When we got about 100 feet out, Max stopped paddling and they pushed me off into the water. With the wooden stocks and the floatation devices, I floated easily. “We’d better protect him against sunburn.” One of them liberally sprinkled lotion on my head and hands and rubbed it around. “Don’t worry about drifting off into the lake. We are taking the rope and will tie it to the pier, and when we want you back, we will just reel you in like a fish.” I begged them not to leave me but it was no use. In a few minutes, I was alone - - but not for long. Part II - Company Not too long after, two girls swam out to me. They were wearing swim caps and goggles so there was no way to see who they were. “Isn’t he the one who called your titls fried eggs?” “I think it is. Let’s see how big his private parts are.” They dove down and I could feel my shorts being removed. Then they came back up. “You have lots of nerve to talk about small sexual organs. I wonder what we can do to help him.” One of them untied the anchor rope. I pleaded for them not to let me drift out into the lake. No worry. The dove down and I felt my cock and balls being pulled away from my body and then the rope being tied around below my balls. “That ought to help you stretch out when you are pulled back into shore. And so you won’t know who did it, let’s leave these here.” My shorts were pulled over my head and my vision was gone. I head them laugh and swim off. Now I had to get out of there and hope someone on shore would release me. I could propel myself a little by kicking, but it was hard to do more than one or two kicks at a time. After a few times, I felt a sudden pull in my crotch. Damn, I was going to wrong way and the rope had stopped me. Painfully! I tried to flip the shorts off but they were wet and clung to my face. I turned around (or hoped I had) and finally got far enough that my feet touched sand. I walked onto the beach and in my joy, forgot about the rope. Another sudden yank on my crotch, this one more painful because I was moving faster. I thought of traacing it back to the pier but collapsed under the strain of my ordeal. Part Three - That night I woke when Deb and Max brought me back to the house. They left me on the bed, still in stocks, and let me rest. As it was getting dark, they put me in a sitting position and released my wrists, one by one, and cuffed them behind my back. Removing the stock, they tied the rope around my neck and then put a ball gag in my mouth. “No comments from you tonight but others can make theirs about your lack of a package.” And they led me down the beach, naked except for the cuffs, gag, and rope on my neck. We got to a bar with a little fence on the sand side. The fence was about crotch high and I didn’t know what further humiliation was in store for me until Max pulled a dildo from her pocket. They backed me to the fence, and just before we got there, the dildo went into my asshole. Then they used the rope to tie my legs together, with the fence rodss between them. And if that was not enough, the end of the rope tied my wrists to the fence, so I was now pulled backwards, which forced the buttplug farther into my ass. And my crotch was at the end of the fence, not touching it, and very inviting for anyone to play with, And it was played with, but not enough that I could get more than aroused halfway, at which time the touching stopped. What frustration! Part Four - back home They let me sleep in the bed, unsecured. And naked. Deb told me that she would tell Cindy that Max did not make it for the weekend and that she and I just hung around and did nothing special. And who would Cindy believe, me or her sister? I was defeated. Park Five - the new swim suit Cindy arrived later and I just kept quiet. Except that I had no shorts; I had lost them in the lake. And the clothes-optional period was over. So at Deb’s suggestion, we went to buy me a new swim suit. But not what I expected. We stopped at a dancewear store where Cindy asked to see an extra-large tank leotard. I tried it on and the fit was wonderful; snug in the crotch but not too much. Cindy ran her fingernail along my cock, which just showed up as a little bump. “This shiny material and the dark color are perfect to hide your privates. All we need to do is shave your pubic hair.” “I don’t know why you don’t find yourself a real man with a well-developed crotch. This one is pathetic.” “Deb, I told you that I would judge men and you would judge women, and we would not interfere with each other’s choices.” Cindy also looked at a bright red tank, also shiny lycra, and bought that for a special time. I was sure that the color would not hide by bump as well as the black, but I have yet to wear it and find out. The sisters took me a a women’s beauty shop and talked with the girls. One of them took me into a back room where I laid on a table, was doused with shaing cream, and my lower hair was removed. Before I could get dressed, the others came in and haad a good laugh at my now bare crotch. So I am now “leotardguy” at the beach. No worry about losing the swim suit, and I am used to the teasing. And it really does fit nicely! Tom

(story continues from Petgirl Trapped 2) Part Three Autumn tried her best to stay comfy in the cage but it was hard. She tried to lay on her belly but she couldn’t breath well. She rolled over onto her side and in a short amount of time her limbs would fall asleep. She grumbled and got up on her hands and knees and moved about. She shook her head when realizing that she was circling about like a cat or dog. She finally rolled over onto her back and fell into a light sleep. *SLAP!!* “MMMFFFF!!!” Autumn screamed into the waking world through her gag. The pain across her crotch was so intense. She rolled over and got into a ball. For a moment she forgot how bound she was and fought with her binding again. “Sheesh…you even sleep like a slut. On your back with your legs open for all the world to see.” Nicole stood with crop in hand. Autumn blinked away a tear and looked up at Nicole. Well…a much more glamorous Nicole that is. Her hair was out of the ponytail and down…styled beautifully and with a bit covering one eye. Nails polished and shaped perfectly with no polish. But it was Autumn’s sexy silky little black dress that focused most of the attention. Nicole mockingly turned on her black heels and posed. “You like? There was soooo much to choose from but I liked the classic little black dress….don’t you? But I couldn’t go out in this little number without some extras.” Nicole pulled out of her purse…her rather new looking leather purse…Autumn’s debit card. “It was so nice of you to leave your PIN number written down at home. I got a manicure, hair done, new shoes..even these.” Nicole turned and sat down on Autumn’s cage. Autumn got a full view of Nicole’s new pure white silk panties. Autumn grumbled angrily and thrashed in the cage. That blond brat ran up a bill on her, humiliated her and enjoying all of it too much. Nicole wiggled her tush but didn’t get up off the cage. “Now listen slave pet…get use to this for the weekend. I plan on having alot of fun with you..it will be worth every penny you got.” Autumn panted and turned away from Nicole’s pert little tush above her and sulked. She didn’t know what to do. Nicole quickly hopped off the cage and turned to face Autumn and grinned. She rushed to the other room for a few minutes then returned. “Ok Autumn….hmmm, that doesn’t seem petlike enough. Lets see…Lady? Tramp? Socks….no. I know and it works well for your red hair. I’ll call you Ginger. It’s pretty and means redhead in British slang. You like your new name Ginger?” Nicole tapped on the cage. “Mmmfffff!!!” Autumn grunted loudly into her gag. Now this blond bitch was giving her a new pet name too. “Now now Ginger…if you want out of that cage you better be a good girl…do you want out?” Nicole kept a happy cheery voice as she talked down to Autumn. She didn’t want to stay in this cage for the rest of the day and the coming night. She nodded lightly to Nicole’s amusement. Autumn then shifted up to her elbows and knees getting ready to be let out. “Good girl..just need to set up a little security in case you go bad.” Nicole quickly spun around to the backside of the cage and reached in enough and snatched Autumn’s panties and ripped them off quick and painfully. “Mmmmmfff!!” Autumn bucked but it was too late and took her by surprised. Cool air touched her now exposed bum and sent shivers over her body. She turned to look back at Nicole. A series of bright flashes met her eyes as Nicole took a series of pictures with the sub-shop digital camera. Autumn tried to cover up and shift about but it did little good. After a few more pictures Nicole turned and showed Autumn through the bars all the embarrassing pics showing off Autumn’s bare bum and other delicate parts. Autumn squealed as Nicole went away and back to the other room. Autumn felt horrified and ashamed. What was that horrid girl thinking? After a few long minutes, Nicole came back and opened the door. “Come on….follow me.” That was all she said and it was quite serious and evenly stated. Autumn stepped out and walked carefully into the office room where Nicole had already stepped in. Nicole proceeded to Autumn’s desk while Autumn went to the middle of the room and sat down awkwardly. Nicole sat on the desk and crossed her legs. She leaned over and turned the computer monitor on. The pictures that Nicole had just took were on there and ready to load up at the yahoo groups and DA pages. “Just one press of the button and you be crossing over into a new world of bondage. That is…if you disobey me. Now then, I am going to release you and you are going to freshen up in the bathroom over there. Don’t you dare try anything…ok?” Autumn had to soak this in for a second. Nicole had went into evil Domme mode here. The worse part was that she really good at it. Autumn had no choice but to nod a defeated yes. What else could she do? “Good girl.” Nicole got off the desk and walked over to Autumn and unlocked the gag and cuffs holding her arms and legs in there bent positions. She didn’t however undo them fully..just made it so Autumn could. Autumn wiggled at the cuffs as Nicole walked back and sat on the desk. She put her perfect looking manicured finger above the button that would publish the pics. After a few minutes Autumn got the wrist/upper arm cuffs off and the bondage paw mittens. In no time Autumn got the ballet boots and other items off. She stood up and stretched. Even though she was now naked..it still felt good. “I can’t believe…” Autumn started to talk but stopped as Nicole’s finger went closer to the button. “Be quiet. Thats one of the rules. You are not to talk unless I tell you to. Nodding is good enough for the likes of you in most cases. And when I do for some reason want to her more than mmmfff’ing from you, you better end it with Mistress Nicole. Understand? Tell me you understand.? Nicole stared right at the naked redhead. “Yes…yes Mistress Nicole.” Autumn shifted her feet a little. She knew how to be submissive to Master L, but not with any Mistress. And def with Nicole. “Good girl. Now you go and freshen up. I want you to wash up too. Guess a bitch bath is what you will need. You should have everything you need in there..now go.” Nicole never moved away, even an inch from the button. Autumn probably could rush her but it was too risky. So Autumn nodded and turned and went to the sub-shop’s restroom connected to the office. Nicole did have it ready. Soap, washcloth, toothpaste..etc. All the most cheapest stuff there was. She grumbled to herself. Nicole had spoiled herself with getting her hair done, manicures and Autumn swore she smelled her favorite perfume on Nicole too. But she would have to deal with this stuff. Autumn took care of her most important needs. After being caged up for so long..she had too. Autumn then took care of her teeth and brushed them clean. The gag left a bad taste in her mouth and at least the mint flavored toothpaste got rid of that. Next she ran hot water in the sink and soaked the washcloth in it then started to clean herself up. She ran the cloth up and down her legs and feet. Rinsed and continued around her chest and neck. Then ended with her midsection and back. She ran fresh water and cleaned her face. Now she was totally natural. Naked, clean and no makeup of any kind. She sighed and went back into the room to see what that evil little blond had in store for her. A fold up table sat there with alot of stuff on it. Nicole was perched on the desk again..ready to press the button if needed. She held out her finger and motioned Autumn to approach the table. “Good…all squeaky clean. Now you are going to get yourself ready like a good pet. First powder your body up.” Autumn took up the powdwerpuff and put it in the powder and started putting it all about. It didn’t take long to cover herself and she sat it back down. Nicole pointed to a black latex mass on the table and Autumn picked it up. Seemed like a simple enough pair of latex panties…simple enough till two massive plugs fell from them. “No..way..I am…” Autumn’s lips pressed hard together and looked up at Nicole. Nicole’s blue eyes were cold and hard, “Oh…yes…you are…and now…don’t forget the lube.” Autumn paused but then lowered her hand to the tube of lube and put some out on the plugs. Her insides fluttered nervously as she lubed up the plug shaped like a freakishly endowed man’s penis. After adding a little more than might be needed she put her first leg through the hole of the panties and then the other. She slowly pulled them up and stopped when the plugs touched the inside of her crotch. She looks at Nicole and gives a nervous pleading gaze. “Come on…don’t act like you never done it before.” Nicole moved her crossed legs a little in a relaxed manner. Gritting her teeth Autumn pulled smoothly up. She never put anything quite like these on herself before but knew she had to relax. The plugs filled her up fully and made her feel like she was going to burst. She put the rest of the tight latex around her butt and the snap of the latex as she let it go sent a dull dread through her. “See..wasn’t that fun and easy. Now please continue.” Nicole’s voice was softer now. No doubt she wasn’t sure if Autumn would put them on. Even with the threat of the pictures looming over her. Autumn shifted funny as she stood and picked up the full latex catsuit. No matter which way she stood the plugs…especially the front one…kept her attention. She was grateful for the powder as she slid the catsuit on. Made it so much easy than if she didn’t have it. Autumn reached back and grabbed the zipper and pulled it up behind herself. Autumn’s hips, butt, legs, chest…all seemed to popped out and screamed for attention thanks to the tight shiny latex. Autumn looked in the wall mirror and saw that the catsuit even hid the horrid dildo panties that were underneath. Nicole seemed to approve. “Good…now walk over to the radiator and put these on around it.” Nicole tossed a par of metal cuffs to Autumn and with careful steps she walked over and put the cuffs through the radiator and then cuffed her self. Unknown to her, Nicole got up and grabbed a black corset with pink highlights and came up behind her. She wrapped it around Autumn’s waist and started to pull hard. Autumn gasped out as the air was pushed out of her. Nicole was almost cruel. Even Ayva didn’t put her knee to her back when she helped put corsets on. But Nicole was and pulling as tight as she could. Autumn wanted to yell but didn’t. Soon Nicole tied it off and slapped Autumn hard on the bottom…sending a confusing sense of pain and pleasure into Autumn. “Wow…that was exhausting. I need to sit.” Nicole dropped the key to the cuffs in Autumn’s hand and went back to her place on the desk. Autumn fiddled for a sec with the key and cuffs but got them to unlock. She stood up and put her hands to her now tiny waist. Autumn tried to breath in deep but barely could. She went back to the table and couldn’t stop herself from swaying her hips so much. The dildos and corset was forcing her too. Nicole pointed to the end of the table, “Time to fill in all your holes.” Autumn picked a huge pink handkerchief and folded it. She then opened her mouth and shoved the mass into it. It took a little work but finally got it all in. She then closed her mouth and took the microfoam tape and put a huge square of it over her mouth. This sealed her lips shut. Autumn knew there would be no outbursts now from herself. Nicole motioned to the next item and Autumn picked up the shiny pair of ballet boots. She didn’t want to sit but the look on Nicole’s face made it clear she better. Autumn walked around the table and hopped on. She yiped lightly as both plugs shoved deeper into her. Putting that behind her she slipped on the ankle length boots and tied them on tight. Nicole put one hand up to Autumn, “Don’t get up..just reach over for your paws.” Autumn grunted as she bent sideways and took up the latex bondage mitten that looked like paws. The paw prints were colored in pink like the highlights on her corset. She slipped the left paw on and then the right. She couldn’t lock them on though. Her hands were now all balled up inside. Nicole got up and walked over to Autumn and started to lock the left one on. Autumn took her other hand and put it in a striking position. “You are in a tight corset, gagged, ballet boots and have some massive dildos shoved in you and one hand in a bondage mitten while the other one in a loose on. Don;t even think it.” Autumn whined lightly in her gag and lowered her hand. She had to admit, she had no chance of winning in a fight with Nicole like this. She lowered her hand and let Nicole lock on the other bondage mitten. “Now turn around and get on your knees.” Nicole offered her hand and helped Autumn off the table and down to her knees. Autumn had saw the latex Gwen hood but it still felt odd when Nicole pulled it over her head. The hood was so tight around Autumn’s head as Nicole cinched it on. Nicole then put a thick collar around her neck. A light jingly sound made the bell apparent as Nicole fooled with something on Autumn’s head “Perfect..now take a look at yourself.” Nicole patted Autumn on the head and made her way back to the desk. Autumn grabbed the table and pulled herself up. Her feet had grown accustomed to the ballet boots thanks to the training Master L had given her. Autumn stood and took careful steps to the mirror and gasped. She looked like a sexy latex doll. More specifically…a sexy latex kitten doll. Her hood had cute little cat ears on the top of them and her collar had big bell like the kinds cat’s wear. The gwen hood made the microfoam disappear underneath. Everything on her was shiny, tight, black and pink. “Guess I don’t need these anymore.” Nicole press the delete key and ended the process that would put the pictures up. Autumn turned and took a step forward. She might be all bound u but without the worry of the pics hitting the net…she could try and take Nicole…. “MMMMMFFFFFF!!!!” Autumn tightened up inside as the pain hit her. She quickly fell to her knees and started to paw at her crotch. She looked up at a grinning Nicole holding a black remote. “That was setting three. You may now only realize what you have slipped on wasn’t just a simple pair of dildo panties but s special pair. Complete with devices embedded inside to zap you if you are bad. Now if you are good…”, Nicole pressed something on the remote. The vibrations that suddenly came from inside Autumn was intense. Her latex bottom was visibly vibrating. At first Autumn again pawed at her crotch but after a few seconds she started to groan and moved about the floor. She looked up at Nicole…Autumn’s green eyes were glazed over with passion. But just as she was about to orgasm…it stopped. “There..I think we are on the same page now…right? Nicole got off the desk and stood before Autumn. “Now then…some rules. No walking…you are a kittygirl. If you don’t you will be punished and be bound like your were earlier. Understand?” Autumn nodded…she was too confused and scared not too. She got on her hands and knees and stayed there. The corset made her arch her butt upward as she stood there. She looked up at Nicole and thought that maybe she could play along until… “Mmmmmfff.” Autumn’s insides were once again hit with wave after wave of vibrations. Thoughts of rebellion where instantly replaced with trying not to end up on the floor again. She clenched her legs together and Nicole kneeled down beside her. Nicole first patted Autumn on the head and started to pet her body….then started to lightly pat Autumn’s round, vibrating, latexed rear. “See..there are benefits of being my good little kitty..right? Want to be a good kitty right? You will be a good kitty.” Autumn moaned and didn’t even realize that she was nodding her head yes. Yes to her Mistress Nicole.

Chapter One 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. The changes that had swept the world since her birth had brought about a world that would have once been called “Medieval”, technologically. The laboratory engineered organism which had been created to absorb oil spills at sea succeeded beyond anyone’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–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. ...

Darling I do want you to know how much I truly love you, but I should not need to remind you that going to a professional Mistress was your idea. You did agree to do as you were told for a full thirty days. I realize this is very hard for you and probably nothing like your sexual fantasy. All I can say is too bad asshole! When Margaret ordered you to strip naked and led you to the stool for your enemas, was it five or six, any way a good cleaning, I was more sexually aroused than I was even in college. I could see the emotional discomfort as you sat before us holding every drop until the command was given. We will be repeating that every day. Margaret says after three or four days, you should become very enema dependant. I only hope you will be able to take a good healthy shit without water some day. Watching you shave your legs and privates was a real turn on for me. I think it was the total humiliation on your face that made it so enjoyable. As you dressed in nylons, heels, bra and a wig, I felt an empowerment over you that I is difficult to describe. It is as though your entire personality is under my thumb. ...

Follow up to The Agent in Charge, this story is Alexi’s chronicle of what he sees during the story. It kind of fills in the blank spots that the first person telling can leave. I am told to put down the events and thoughts that brought me to this situation I find myself. I must provide a little background for future readers to understand how this happened. I was a new Soviet Man in the mid-1980’s, twenty-four years old and a graduate of the Moscow State University with emphasis in Western culture and economics. I was recruited by the KGB as an analyst. I sat at a desk for six months studying western intelligence report and economic figures. My superiors gave me high praise for my thorough and accurate analysis. I wanted more. I asked for the opportunity to be a field agent, to penetrate the decadent western industrial system and provide analysis of information I provided. The idea of having a field agent who knew what was important seemed like a good one as we often wasted many hours sifting through fluff to find the kernels of truth. ...

Cheryl was what you’d call ‘Strictly Business’ and seldom ever wanted to deal with the likes of the Production aspects of Kay’s Confections, formerly a simple candy store now turned into a big corporation. She always wore the same drab colored suits day in and day out; just so that people were reminded she had no intention of not being taken seriously. Cheryl’s job was supposed to involve Sales and Marketing, as well as to perform as acting Head of the Assets Committee. She was supposed to make sure the business ran like a business and not just some mom and pop candy store. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Reversal 3: Baroness Manchester’s Device)_ _To understand the Gai Shift & to review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge Chapter 4: The New Manni Barbette awoke in her own bed. She lay silently, looking up at the plasterwork of the ceiling, allowing memories of all that had happened the prior night to come back to her. Strapped up, the unseen Baroness Manchester pumping her through the wall with her pneumonic nightmare, an endless flush of passion. How many times had its cleverly-shaped rubber head pushed into her, pressing up, withering and pulsing like a thing alive? She and the baroness would share their separate orgasms, she hanging from her tight straps, the baroness sprawled on the thick carpets of her elegant suite. Both would slowly recover and then it would begin again. The pounding bliss, the endless abuse, climax following climax. ...

It was with something just short of a sigh that Sara rose from her chair. No emails, no messages, nothing. For three days now, there had been no word from him, and she was beginning to worry. They had never gone this long without talking. With another almost sigh, she turned from the computer. The kids were in school, and it was time for her to get busy. Her home needed tending to, and staring at her screen would accomplish nothing. ...

First let me tell you a little about Arthur Verbrook, or Art as he prefers to be called Art wasn’t what you’d call a man of stature by any means. At 5’4 he was easily lost in a crowd and over looked by many women his entire life. To make up for this, he developed an aggressive, almost overbearing attitude that showed in both work and women, the former helping he become successful, the latter less so. Still in his mind he thought he was the top dog. ...

The unforgiving florescent lighting stung my eyes as I slowly came to. My head was still a bit cloudy, but I knew that I was lying on the floor. The smooth surface felt cold against my bare skin. As my brain seemed to catch up, new sensations emerged. The most prominent was my aching jaw. I tried to alleviate my discomfort, but my arms failed to respond appropriately…remaining pinned behind my back. ...

WARNING ! This story is intended for adult persons over the age of eighteen and should not be viewed by those under that age or the legal age of consent where you live. This story contains aspects of rubber fetishism and other sexual acts and practices that may be offensive to some people. This story is for ADULTS ONLY! If you don’t like seeing things such as this, Please, read no further. Unless authorized by the writer, this story is considered copyrighted and is the intellectual property thereof. Please do not post to pay sites or any place else with out the authors permission. ...

continued from chapter 2.2 Chapter 3: The Fly Paper The note in the mailbox indicated a package needed to be picked up at the Shaw Island Post Office. Ambrose looked at his attire. He was wearing the wetsuit over his more rubbery things but he had that hood and gas mask on. The keys to the locks were at home – as always – to guard against removal while away from the Private Island. The adventure of being sealed in rubber in public turned him into a receptacle of erotic power that demanded attention as soon as possible. Jillian was similarly charged from these trips as well and the two always consummated the return to the private island with a passionate blast of animal lust. ...

Miss had been very busy for a week or so now, and I had the suspicion she was planning something. She spent hours every day in our basement, and ignored me when I casually asked what she was doing down there all the time. Today, I found out. She woke me up early this morning, and pulled me into the bathroom. She had me shave my face, my legs and my pubic hair, and she helped me shave some of the more inaccessible parts of my body until the only hair left was on my head. She was obviously quite excited about something, and that made me quite nervous. Sometimes her secrets turn out to be pleasant surprises, other times very painful ones. I had a sense this could be one of the latter. ...

(story continues from Kim’s Tail 3: Hazel)_ Chapter 4: Kate Kate stood on the landing pad watching the helicopter recede into the distance. It had, she considered, been a busy week. She had been surprised at some of the people who had chosen not to attend the funeral. But then again, maybe not. The past few days had been a media frenzy and she was glad to finally be away from the spotlight. Jim had known and, despite being a complete bastard in life, had thrown her a lifeline after his death. A retreat to gather her thoughts and slip away from public scrutiny. Literally an island in a sea of sharks, or at least paparazzi. Turning she walked towards the house as she considered what had just happened. ...

ULTI-MAI-DEN: Ultimate Maid Guardian “My dear Mai, I believe it’s time for you to wake up… ” “What… what is this… why am I… who… ” “So many questions, and yet you barely have the energy to stay awake. I’m afraid that won’t do, Miss Mai.” “Who are you? And… why can’t I remember my name… ?” “Oh but you can… just try.” “My name is… Mai… Mai Mai Oppai… ” “That is correct… I’m glad you can remember as much.” ...

At the age of nineteen I was still living at home with my parents and I therefore knew a number of their friends and social contracts. One friend of my mother, who I would place in her mid-fifties (the friend, not my mother) ran a hairdressing business from her home and after the local barber had made a bit of a mess of my hair at my previous visit, my mother suggested that I may like to go to her friend next time. My mother pointed out that while her friend did mainly cut women’s hair she had a number of male clients also. ...

Chapter 2: Paulsen House The Paulsen House was the guest “cottage” on the end of the long peninsula at the west end of the island. It would be a good walk before lunch. She figured she’d have to reset the alarm or something. It was breezy and cool as she walked to the Paulsen place. The ten minute walk was invigorating. She let herself in and found the power was off. She checked the alarm panel and tried to reset it but the system didn’t respond. The little power off light winked persistently. She went back to the kitchen. She found the utility room door opened the door. She ran her flashlight over the walls to find the circuit panel. She noticed another door next to the panel as she stepped into the room. The door close behind her closed. It was on a spring. The place was dark as she fumbled with the master switch in the panel. The lights came on. Triumphantly she turned to leave. The door she had entered had no inside knob! ...

In an isolated system, in neutral territory a small, unarmed, Terran scout vehicle drifted alone. Captain Andrea Simmons started to sweep the area with sensors, for lack of anything else to do. There was little else to do other than wait for… what ever was that waited for her. In the beginning Mankind had spread to the stars using the Schleckston jump drive and found nothing. For some time it seemed worthless to even go. Mining was cheaper in Sol system and no prospective colonies had been found. Most systems were just like the one Andrea was in now, empty except for the primary star and some asteroids. But the exploring spirit still survived so scout ships continued to explore the new frontier anyway. ...

Prologue: “Sentence to commence immediately. These proceedings are closed.” The gavel rang down with a loud thwack. “All rise,” called the bailiff as the judge stood from his seat at the bench and went off to his chambers. I stood there…lost for any words or thoughts. The Public Defender stood there. Finally he turned to me. “We can appeal this. I’ll get started on it straight away.” “I don’t get it,” I mumbled. “I didn’t do anything. The charges of insurrection are so absurd.” ...

Everything was black. “Jerry?” The voice…it wasn’t familiar…it wasn’t someone Jerry could recall hearing before. “Jerry, are you awake?” It took several moments of blinking before the darkness faded, normal vision taking its place. That was wrong…it shouldn’t have taken this long. Even on his worst mornings, Jerry couldn’t recall feeling this wrong. Something didn’t feel right, out of place…like something didn’t belong. It only took a second for him to realize that something was definitely wrong. He wasn’t in his bedroom, the one he had slept in for years. The room….this room he was in was made of what looked like clear glass mingled with white plastic, almost like a hospital room. ...

John is between sleep and reality. John feels pressure on his thighs. John feels numb and fuzzy at his extremities, and John feels wetness on his face. When you’re between sleeping and waking, your senses are all blurred and you can’t put things like these together right away. John’s eyes try to open but he sees nothing. Eyesight or not though, John is waking up. He begins to realize that the pressure on his thighs is from something sitting on his lap. He begins to realize that his extremities are numb because there is something tight and constricting around his wrists and ankles. John makes another attempt at sight by closing and opening his eyes again to no avail, and he feels his eyelashes brush against something as they move. ...

Tyler had just walked into his house after a long day at work. He kicked off his shoes and casually took off his shirt, leaving just his jeans and socks on. Tyler always kept his house a little warm so that he could lounge around comfortably, but with his shirt off, he noticed that the house was a little cooler than he expected. As he made his way into the kitchen, he glanced to his right, into the dining room, and noticed the cause for the subtle chill in the house; the side window was left open. As quickly as his mind wondered at how or why the window had been opened, the answer made itself known to him, in the form of a gun being pressed into his back and a feminine, yet serious voice telling him not to move. ...

(story continues from The Victim 5: Turnabout 3) Part 6: Turnabout 4 Marty came out of the shower a few minutes later. I was still on the floor where she had left me. I had tried during the few minutes she was out of the room to wriggle free, but nothing doing! The bindings were too tight and restrictive. She knelt down next to me, smelling of shampoo and soap. She surprised me and began to untie the ropes that held my head up and the hogtie link. In a few seconds, I was able to finally stretch out and it felt so good. ...

This story contains adult content and should not be made available to minors or be read by anyone who is offended by sexual materials. Feel free to repost this story as long as it is in an appropriate place for the content and as long as this disclaimer remains with it. Part 1 As Stephanie shut down her car, she was still trying to come up with her excuse for being late. Her social skills were minimal, as she had married her high school boyfriend and they rarely went anywhere. He was the only lover she had ever known. Recently divorced, this was her first social outing in a long time. ...

High school, such a dreaded period for many teenagers, but not Andrea. Andrea is a beautiful brown haired, Spanish girl with great tanned skin and a smile that could make hearts melt. She literally had the world at her feet, as we will soon discover. “Hurry up, were almost out of time”, Andrea angrily whispered, seemingly to herself. “I’m doing the best I can!” came anguished the reply over her tiny ear speaker. ...

After five years of pro football Arnold now owned a small chain of furniture stores and was doing rather well. He was sitting in the office that overlooked the sales floor when he noticed a tall beautiful blonde with the most gorgeous body he had ever seen looking at the furniture. He observed that there wasn’t anyone waiting on her and wondered where in hell that damn little clerk had gone, and what he was thinking about letting a woman like her browse alone. ...

continues from part three Part 4: Shemale Training Mistress Anya waited while her slave/maid finished polishing her black latex catsuit. Soon the job was finished and the latex gleamed with high gloss from her neck to her toes. Miko helped her mistress into her knee length high heeled boots and the uniform was complete. She walked over to the full length mirror to perform a final inspection. The mirror reflected the image of a tall blond-haired woman encased in shiny latex that fit her like a second skin. Around her waist was a heavy latex waist cincher, also in black. The deep red lipstick and heavily made up eyes completed the picture of a cruel latex mistress. Behind her, in the mirror, she could see her maid, also dressed in latex but in pink and white, her eyes cast submissively to the floor. ...

This is what happened after a mischevious author sent her stories to me several times - LOL. Gromet Gromet rose from behind his aircraft-carrier sized executive desk to greet the woman. “Ms Cynthia,” he said as he bowed over her gloved hand. “Mr. Gromet,” she responded. She was tall, and good sized—not fat, but well built and shapely. Her blonde hair was elegantly coiffed, her mature years carefully concealed by expert makeup. She wore a suit with a short skirt and high heels, showing off her long legs. ...

Sandra was not a stupid woman. On this night, she was just drunk - QUITE drunk and not totally in control of her mental or physical facilities. She’d had an entire bottle of wine with co-workers on this Friday night, celebrating a pay raise. As she normally didn’t drink, that much wine went straight to her head. One of her colleagues, who’d only had one small gin and tonic, offered her a ride home, but Sandra shrugged it off. “No, no, no,” she slurred. “I wanna walk … wanna walk. Need the fresh air.” ...

This story was originally an entry into the S(A)X Leather 2008 Bondage Stories Contest “That Bitch!!! I’ll show her whose boss!” Jonathan was furious. He had worked so hard to get into the exclusive Barrington School of Business. Pinched and saved all he could to gain admission into the over-priced but influential school. So what if he had forged letters of reference from a few respectable yet deceased former financiers of the school. So what if he had made a few hundred dollars more than he reported to get the Pell grant he so desperately needed to continue his education. ...

Jamie ducked her head over her keyboard and, from the corner of her eye, snuck another look at her office mate. Cynthia looked especially attractive that day. She was wearing a pretty powder blue skirted suit, with a silk scarf encircled her throat and filled her plunging décolletage. Cynthia caught her looking, and smiled to herself as she continued typing–a task made difficult by her long pink fingernails. She extended her great legs past her desk, showing off her sheer stockings and beige high heeled pumps Jamie glanced down at herself, glad that she had worn her sexy grey business dress and patent high heels. ...

A Halloween Special 2008 Tale Chet and Penny were hiding behind the door to the back work area. The lights were out and Chet had a syringe in his hand. Penny whispered, “Are you sure that stuff is safe?” Chet look at the syringe. “Yea it will keep her out for about 3hrs. She will wake up with a headache.” “I still don’t know if we should do it this way.” Penny mumbled, “Are you sure.” ...

from the Halloween special 2008 As Vern tried to shake the cage door in frustration, the locks on the outside jostled only slightly, clanging quietly against the cold metal. Linda’s voice came laughingly over the earbuds, “I would recommend against doing that again, sweetie.” Vern considered the situation carefully. Something about the tone of her voice suggested he should take her advice. Linda wasn’t one for surprises, and certainly he expected nothing like this! After all, it was supposed to be *her* in the cage! ...

Nancy has different summer plans for her husband, as marriage counseling doesn’t always work out. A caustic tale of rotting, fetid garbage, unknown outcomes and a ride to the town’s transfer station. The acrid, putrid smell of my last 2 days permeates every pore of my sweat-drenched body. It is indescribable the ooze and slime that grows on everything on or near me, enveloping my every naked orifice. The odor has gotten so caustic that I can’t even sense the smell that continues to rot around me in my drum. ...

I couldn’t believe it. Only an hour or so I was sleeping comfortably in bed, and now I’m in the back of a SUV trussed up and gagged. I am not a call girl but I was staying at the town house of a wealthy man I met at a cocktail party. He had taken a liking to me, and before you knew it we were going at it hot and heavy. He started by buying me expensive jewelry, clothes, and taking me on trips. ...

“Hey, come quick everybody, Emily’s got herself trapped on the dog rack!” Oh, so that’s what it’s called. A dog rack. I’m still no nearer to knowing quite what it’s for, and with a name like that I don’t think I want to know. What I do know is that it’s got a hold of me and I can’t get loose. And being discovered like this is about the worst thing I can imagine happening.. ...

Sarah was sitting in her apartment, surfing the web and reading a book. She wasn’t looking for much, just a friendly story site or picture trading club where she could sit and admire the strange new world of bondage she had discovered. She had crafted herself a new screen name on yahoo which she thought was clever, sarahpony2005. As she sat there surfing, a new PM popped up, from another yahoo member. The line was rather curious thought. ...

What a day! Two long boring meetings and a financial report due tomorrow for another meeting. She pushed the garage door remote as she turned her red Porsche into the drive. It would have to be finished tonight, she thought. Oh damn! This was Thursday. Her night to go to the gym and lift. She really looks forward to gym nights. It really removes the days stress. Not to mention she likes the way some of the well muscled guys look at her as she lifts. Damn, she’d really like to go tonight! She’s feeling horny and some skin tight clothes and getting a good pump would really have those guys stairing at her. Although she wouldn’t have time tonight to take anybody home any way. ...

Sarah was just a cute little High school cheerleader when she stumbled onto Sir Jeff’s website about ponygirls. She was from a small farming town in the south, and being the curious girl, she started searching for more information. She spent many nights combing the internet for information, stories, pictures, and other useful information. She found out all about the training and stable lives of ponygirls, and as she learned more, she wanted to experience it for herself. ...

All I said was, “No, I won’t do that.” Well, I did it! And a whole lot more. In a way, it taught me that the life style I chose two years ago was serious. I am a slave and slaves have no rights. I most certainly do not have the right to say no to my owner. My owner is god. That is that. I was forced to violate my preferences. Slaves have no preferences, sexual or other wise. Being beaten severely for three consecutive days and the quiet time, which will last 92 more days was proof enough. ...

Some men simply don’t deserve the title of man. You know what I mean; they can’t or won’t make decisions. They prefer to be led around by the nose with little interest in who does the leading. They are not even really submissive, because a true submissive relinquishes control and these pathetic creatures have no control. They are called men only because they have external sex organs, which allow them to piss while standing. Such is the case of William, who I call Wilma. We will soon see about this standing business! ...

ELBOW BONDAGE CLUB (Chapters 1 -5) English is not my first language, so please excuse the occasional bad grammar/spelling/wording. This story is pure fiction and caters to the niche fetish of elbow bondage. CHAPTER 1 - The Club The ‘Elbow Bondage Club’ (EBC) was an exclusive fetish club located 38 miles outside of San Francisco. The venue was a large mansion which was owned by Julia Langly and Laura Parker, two eccentric millionaires who shared the same sexual fetish: beautiful women in stringent bondage. ...

Andrew frowned at his computer screen, puzzled. He’d been playing one of those online strip poker games, a new one he’d found called Magic Poker. It was one of those games where you tried to run the girl out of money, then buy items of her clothing so she could continue to play. He’d done well at first, getting the busty blonde on his screen down to just her panties, but then the cards had turned against him. Now the girl on the screen was fully dressed, and he was out of money. ...

We were in the elevator, going down, when the lights flickered, went out, and the elevator stopped between floors. I was in the Emergency Ward of Chicago’s General Hospital. I had fallen and broken my leg. ‘Broken’ isn’t exactly the right word – it was only a severe fracture. “Broken” was a colloquialism. Anyway, the doctor put a cast on my leg to hold it immobile while the fracture healed, and the orderly was taking me down to my room so I could get dressed and go home, after the final x-rays were taken. I was wearing only my underwear, one shoe, and the hospital bathrobe. ...

Twas a night after Christmas and something was moving, and it wasn’t a mouse. Katharine rolled over bed and pulled the sheets about herself, her long dark hair falling over her shoulder in a solid curtain. She luxuriated in the warmth for a moment, murmuring quietly to herself as she rose slowly from the depths of sleep to waking. Opening a lazy eye she saw something on the bed that she was sure had not been there when she had gone to sleep. ...

This is the first day of our London vacation. I know it’s playtime. I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks with anticipation and dread. I come out of the shower, naked. Just a blank canvas for the picture Dave chooses to create. The first thing he has me do is put on a pair of slutty looking 5” black wedge heels. Clearly a man’s fantasy brought to life. A strap across the front of my ankles makes sure they stay in place. They are taller than I am used to, and so I teeter a bit as I test out the shoes, walking back and forth. I hope I won’t be on my feet *too* long. ...

A slender young woman walks down the street heading for her appointment. As you would expect she gets her share of looks as the various men, and sometimes even women peek back at her black nylon clad legs coming from under her trenchcoat and ending in 6 inch heels. Her long midnight hair perfectly straight and sheen. You would probably think Maria was a model from looking at her. But no, she wasn’t. She was an average girl, with a regular life. Maria had a job as a secretary, an apartment, a boyfriend named Tom, and a rubber fetish you could only dream about. Ok, well perhaps its not all regular. She did have one problem, however. This was what she was going to this appointment to fix. ...

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a story. This one hit me while on a plane, so here it is. As always - this is fiction of a somewhat sexual nature with mature themes. If that’s not your cup of tea (we’ll ignore the obvious question as to why you’re visiting this site), read something else. If you think this is you - it’s not because I don’t know anyone that’s ever had this happen to them. Copyright remains with me unless specifically released, although reposting to sites without any membership fees is permitted. ...

“Now don’t worry your petty head about what’s happening.” An old man in a red silk bath robe said as he clamped the woman’s wrists and ankles to a bed. With an electric razor he began to shave her beautiful blonde hair off until she was as bald as a cue ball. “How did I get into this problem?” Sam thought as he remember how he had won a tour of the doll factory. Dressed in a fire red blouse, black skirt, chocolate hose and jet-black three in heels, he had gotten off work at the TG bar and was the only one to show for the night tour. ...

story continues from part one “May I help you?” Startled, Janet nearly dropped the delicate figurine she’d been examining. Placing it quickly, but very carefully back on the shelf, she turned. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I-I didn’t mean to intrude.” For a moment, the man in the worn black robe simply gazed at her, then a warm smile softened the planes of his face. “No intrusion at all,” he said, spreading his arms in welcome. “This is, after all, my shop, and what are shops without customers?” ...

As silly as it was, it felt like he right choice to go to the local mall for my dinner. It had been a number of days since I had anything at all to eat, so I was starting to get a little peckish. Even the thought of food made my stomach start to rumble in anticipation. I placed a hand over it and smiled. “Soon enough,” I said in a whisper as I walked towards the food court. ...

Forgive? Well, Hillary can do so with her philandering husband, but not me. I found out by accident that Sidney had a girlfriend, but they had not gone to the sex part of it - - yet. This I found out by snooping on his e-mails. I also found out they were going to take it all the way while I was out of the country on business for a fortnight. For obvious reasons - - financial - - he could not survive without me. So I knew I could confront him and get away with any threats and action I wanted. ...

Contest Entry for the ‘Script your own Video’ Contest A lovely young lady stumbles across a story writing contest sponsored by one of her favorite bondage websites and jumps at the opportunity to win some money and have one of her fantasies translated to live-action. Feverishly, she pens a quick script entitled “The Work-Out,” in which a female fitness instructor who pushes her client too vigorously is punished by being stringently hogtied, gagged and blindfolded, wearing a high-cut, spandex, one-piece thong and left to struggle for an exorbitant amount of time, and she enters it into the contest. ...

Part 1: The Arrival The box was finally pried open. All the partygoers leaned forward with their martini and brandy glasses in hand. A slight muffle was heard through all of the styrafoam blocks. The well-dressed man to whom this crate was addressed rummaged through the crate and the styrafoam like a kid rifling through a giant Cracker Jacks box. The guests peered in for a closer look. The gasps were audible as his blue-blooded friends and colleagues focused on the form beyond the foam. ...

Contest Entry for the ‘Script your own Video’ Contest A lovely young lady stumbles across a story writing contest sponsored by one of her favorite bondage websites and jumps at the opportunity to win some money and have one of her fantasies translated to live-action. Feverishly, she pens a quick script entitled “The Work-Out,” in which a female fitness instructor who pushes her client too vigorously is punished by being stringently hogtied, gagged and blindfolded, wearing a high-cut, spandex, one-piece thong and left to struggle for an exorbitant amount of time, and she enters it into the contest. ...

Disclaimer: Do not read this if you are underage, it would be illegal for other reasons or while operating heavy machinery. Don’t try this at home either even if you are telepathic, which I doubt. Annette stood frozen on the stage before me, dressed in a white bikini and heels. Short blonde hair framed her heart-shaped face. Her lovely grey eyes did not register my presence; except for the steady rise and fall of her ample bosom she might have been a beautiful mannequin. Since she was now under my mental control, the image was not far from the truth. ...

from the 2007 Halloween special The coffee was good ! and the little desert cake She had chosen was absolutely first rate, but then She had expected as much from such an old established bakery here in Warsaw. M took it all back,- not a bakery- their first order of business was chocolate. M didn’t eat as much chocolate as She craved. . after all a moment on the lips and eternity of work in the gym to burn it off . Now a days She would have a bit at certain times of the month just to make herself feel pampered but mostly it was on the “NO” list. ...

The BDSM Expo has been going on for two days already. We have checked in at the hotel on Tuesday and from Friday morning Alicia and I planned to be lost in the aisles of the convention floor. The BDSM Expo has plenty of things to entertain us, you see. We purchased a lot and I had so much fun watching Alicia squirming when I said that I absolutely had to get those hinged handcuffs, and that latex catsuit and also those latex panties. My wife gets excited at the idea of all these things but is a bit shy. She is also a tall (5’ 9") willowy and gorgeous redhead with a slim waist and narrow hips and breasts that are just a bit too big for her chest but I don’t complain. A C cup is a bit snug but a D is too roomy so she stays with a C. Her nipples are small and tend to pucker and swell when she is turned on. Her face would launch a whole bunch of ships. A total 9.9 even though she doesn’t know how incredibly sexy lovely she is. ...

The space station was humming as Ginger R342 docked her luxury hyper-yacht. Some readers may object that a station cannot hum, much less carry a tune. To this one can only reply that the main cyberbrain, which was humming, controlled the internal speakercoms. The effect was thus the same. Syntellect cyberbrains rarely hum unless commanded, so one deciding to attempt “I Ain’t Got Nobody” was downright peculiar. This should have warned Ginger that something was wrong, rather than merely annoying her. Unfortunately for Ginger (but not for the lecherous reader), she gave it no thought, but simply ordered the cyberbrain to shut up. ...

The space station was humming as Ginger R342 docked her luxury hyper-yacht. Some readers may object that a station cannot hum, much less carry a tune. To this one can only reply that the main cyberbrain, which was humming, controlled the internal speakercoms. The effect was thus the same. Syntellect cyberbrains rarely hum unless commanded, so one deciding to attempt “I Ain’t Got Nobody” was downright peculiar. This should have warned Ginger that something was wrong, rather than merely annoying her. Unfortunately for Ginger (but not for the lecherous reader), she gave it no thought, but simply ordered the cyberbrain to shut up. ...

Sara awoke out of her stupor with a jolt. A strange sensation of pressure on her body, it was the first time she’d realized something had happened to her. The first thing she noticed was that the room she was in was pitch black all around save for a series of strange sets of rib-like bars that circled around her at varying levels above and below her line of sight. She wasn’t quite sure what these were for, but the design was all-encasing. Any source of light that could be seen could only be reflected on the silvery metal of the bars, making everything obscure to her sense of sight. ...

Bondage had always been a private affair. Their little secret. Mark was the instigator but Marianne was a willing participant. The scenarios were varied and they used all parts of the house, so when Mark tied her on the coffee table Marianne was not unduly worried. She had her normal rush of anticipation in the knowledge that there would be an orgasmic finale as always. The night was young and she steeled herself mentally for the waiting to come. Hurry was not in Mark’s vocabulary. ...

Chapter 1: Moving Day Natsuko reflected quietly in her small prison – shackled, gagged, locked in a trunk, locked in a moving van, locked in a warehouse. She wondered how so many things could have gone wrong for her to have ended up here. Mostly she wondered if the vibrator that was slowly driving her to exasperation would run out of power before she went completely insane … Natsuko was born and raised in Japan, but she defied the old stereotype of the petite flat chested Asian. Like many in her generation she had long legs and a rather large bust, despite her slender figure. Her long black hair and impossibly deep brown eyes had simply sealed the deal for Paul when they met in his last year of college. Paul was handsome at 5'10” with sandy brown hair and a physique toned from his years studying martial arts. ...

Tammy Lynette Dufrane sat frozen at her desk. She blankly stared at the 9-inch view screen on the portable DVD player in front of her. It had mysteriously appeared on her desk while she and her secretary had been called to the conference room for the daily morning powwow. No explanation of who it was from, just a card with the words ‘FOR YOUR EYES ONLY’ slid under the white bow and ribbon that decorated the heart shaped bright red box it came in. Two layers of her favorite caramel filled chocolates surrounded the player and filled the rest of the 2-inch deep box. ...

Tammy Lynette Dufrane sat frozen at her desk. She blankly stared at the 9-inch view screen on the portable DVD player in front of her. It had mysteriously appeared on her desk while she and her secretary had been called to the conference room for the daily morning powwow. No explanation of who it was from, just a card with the words ‘FOR YOUR EYES ONLY’ slid under the white bow and ribbon that decorated the heart shaped bright red box it came in. Two layers of her favorite caramel filled chocolates surrounded the player and filled the rest of the 2-inch deep box. ...

I slammed the door behind me, crossed the miniscule space of my dorm single, dropped my bookbag on the floor, and threw myself into bed. For a few seconds I just lay there on my back, then I grabbed my pillow, put it over my face, and let loose with a little primal scream therapy. Why did it have to be so difficult? When I first got to college, I remember noticing right away that the guys had changed. If you looked past the frat-boys, past the drunken binges every weekend, past the macho strutters, there were actually some fairly intelligent and eloquent men to be found on campus. After going to high school in La-La-Land with the surf-bums-and-beach-babes-in-training, it was refreshing to be able to have a halfway decent conversation with someone of the opposite gender. ...

Number Six Mistress Stern, Emma and Michelle returned to the house, where they removed their masks, dried off again and served themselves drinks. Within their rubber attire their sweat allowed their skin and rubber skin to slip and slide against each other. They began to discuss their next guest, number six. “You can begin the enhancements today, if you wish Emma. We can all assist, and I feel energised today.” Emma nodded at the suggestion. ...

Number Eight “Well, seven down and one to go. So how is our rubber zombie, number 8? Is she responding to our rather unconventional treatment? I’m sure the Duke and Duchess are keen to know how our titled lady is responding to our treatment.” They returned to the cells and Michelle said. “She’s doing so well Madame; it is very disorienting for her at the moment. She has been in the suit for a week now. So she will gradually give up one addiction for another, yes?” ...

Number 2 While the four dominas prepared for their next victim’s indoctrination number one quietly closed her door, and reflected. She was bright enough to realise she was in shock. She walked across the rubber tiles to a full-length mirror and surveyed herself. She gasped at the transformation. Protruding from her dark brown skin were shiny adornments. Her wrists and ankles were wrapped in finely scrolled steel cuffs; the locks barely visible and their rubber padding gently squeezed her limbs – a permanent reminder. She raised her hand and gently turned the nose ring through its grommet. Close up she could not see the seal in the ring. It rested on her upper lip – again a permanent reminder. Her neck seemed to be slowly adjusting, her breathing was easier and she could move her head a little better as the two small rubber cushions at her chin and shoulder were a bit looser. ...

Number 1 The Range Rover pulled up outside the large country house that was well hidden in expansive treed parkland. Privacy was paramount – there were electric gates, warning signs, CCTV cameras and high walls. To the outsider no one would know that a house was there, or what went on there. The beautiful woman who exited the car was met by three equally stunning women at the front door. This in itself was not strange, but what made it bizarre were their clothes. ...

Number 3 As number two accepted her future, the four dominas returned to their playroom. Michelle and Miko helped each other remove their dildos, smiling at the saliva and anal secretions on them. As Miko washed them, Emma updated Mistress Stern on the progress of their next guest, number three! Emma relaxed in the gyn/ob chair, slipping her heels into the stirrups and stretching her tight nurse’s tunic and exposing her panties. She licked her lips under her rubber mask, still tasting number two’s juices, she smiled to herself, she had no intention of brushing her teeth for the moment, this was better than any mouthwash! ...

Number Four & Five The four dominas chose to take a break and returned to Mistress Stern’s study, peeled off their masks, dried off and relaxed. A day well done, so far. Sipping a juice, Mistress Stern asked Miko about guests four and five. “Well, they are proving that they have a lot more fight than the others, that’s for sure. They are becoming more compliant though, slowly. I think that, as they are identical twins, they seem to want to stick up for each other more. This seems to make them fight harder. I think your surgical procedure on their vocal chords was a great idea.” She smiled evilly. ...

I have a reasonable selection of rubber, rubber, PVC clothes as well as a load of normal clothes. There is a store in the high street that sells rubber etc and normal fashion stuff. It is always busy, people buying both types and lots of people moving around in underwear. I needed a new dress for a rubber ball that was coming up, so one Saturday I went to buy one. I wore to the store very tight leather trousers, ankle boots, a low-cut top and a very nice bra. ...

Bianca always put her work first, even toward her husband. It was because of this that her husband, Dick kept trying to make her into a better lover in bed. No matter what erotic tricks he’d try, she never truly warmed up to him. Her mind was on nothing but business. As time passed, Bianca made her way up in the corporate ladder. Just when she thought she’d make her way to the board of directors, the company faced a hostile take over. With that came a series of lay offs. That included Bianca’s department. ...

The world always seems a little odd. It doesn’t matter who you are. It always seems odd. It seems odd in life. It seems odd in college. It seems odd in high school. At least in two of these places, odd is the order of the day. Every one feels it, and at least in that, we take some comfort. But not everyone knows how truly strange things can get. Not everyone can see that we aren’t in the normal world we would like. We call them crazy. Sometimes we call them paranoid. But unfortunately, most of the time, we completely ignore them. One person knew this better than most. ...

My roommate kicked me out of my apartment, I don’t know why. I do know I have no place to stay. So I decided to take a long drive out in the country. I had been driving for a few hours when I saw someone on the side of the road. As I approached I noticed it was a beautiful young lady in her mid twenties and she was hitchhiking! Wow, maybe my luck was changing. I pulled off to the side of the road to pick her up. People say it is dangerous to pick up hitchhikers but they’re not here to see this lady. What could she possibly do to me ? ...

My roommate kicked me out of my apartment, I don’t know why. I do know I have no place to stay. So I decided to take a long drive out in the country. I had been driving for a few hours when I saw someone on the side of the road. As I approached I noticed it was a beautiful young lady in her mid twenties and she was hitchhiking! Wow, maybe my luck was changing. I pulled off to the side of the road to pick her up. People say it is dangerous to pick up hitchhikers but they’re not here to see this lady. What could she possibly do to me ? ...

Gromet what’s up how are you I have just created my first story and was wondering if you could post it up on your page as a mummification story? It’s called THE TEST it’s my first work it might not be the best but I think its pretty good. Please take a look at it and if possible post it on your site for other people to read as well thanks a lot. Also let me know how u think the story came out. Thanks mrdoogles ...

Danielle was furious! She had been in the middle of uploading a large file when the phone line went dead. Well, not exactly dead, but the computer link was terminated as her roommate, Linda, kept dialing a phone number using the library phone until it cut off the server connection. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Danielle screamed as she burst angrily into the large, dimly lit study. The blonde was sitting in the large leather arm chair. The lovely girl’s legs were splayed open over the upholstered arms, her short skirt was hiked up to her waist to give one hand full access to her pussy while she used the other to hold the handset. Her tight sweater was in a heap in the middle of the desk, and since Linda didn’t believe in encumbrances like bras, that meant she was completely topless, undoubtedly so she could play with her own nipples when the thought struck the incredibly lascivious wench’s mind. ...

Bob was on his way home from work, a hard day it was with his feet killing him. He just missed the green light and had to make a quick stop, so he slammed on the brakes. Sitting there all frustrated and hot, he glances over and notices a big car pull up next to him, he glances inside and Bob spy’s three young beautiful looking women, and all three happen to be staring at him smiling. This of course cheers Bob up quickly. The driver he notices licks her lips while staring at him seductively, right there Bob begins to feel his hardness in his pants swell. So the light turns green and Bob feels that was what he needed to cheer him up, in was otherwise a real shitty day. ...

Turning around while glancing at herself in the three-way dressing mirror, Martha asked, “Do these jeans make me look big?” Leaning against a nearby display, Anna Konning retorted, “Is this a trick question.” Damn it, I should have known she’d say that. Though they were good friends ‘well, very good friends’ Martha Sever hated it when Anna joked about her weight. “I guess I should have asked if they made me look bigger.” Anna shook her head. “Forget I said anything.” She cast an appreciative eye towards the girl’s bottom. “You look good.” “Bullshit.” “Well, as good as you can, Martha.” She grunted. “You can’t help that you’ve got a large backside.” Martha turned away from the damning mirror. “No, I guess I can’t.” She walked back into the dressing room and began stripping off the jeans. Once down to her panties she gave herself a quick appraisal. Anna was correct when she said Martha had a large bottom. For Martha was a large girl. She’d always been a little heavy when she’d been in high school and college, but in the last five years it’d seemed as if she’d been unable to do anything but pack on a few pounds here and there, and now . . . now she was pushing 285. While she thought she still looked good, she knew if she kept gaining weight it was only a matter of time before she found herself without . . . without . . .. Without Anna and Greg? Martha had met Anna a few years ago through friends. Back then Martha was a ’thin’ 215, but Anna . . . well Anna hadn’t changed a bit. Anna had one of those rotund forms that provided her with a pronounced set of curves; the sort of curves that some woman (Martha among them) longed for. Anna was by no means fat; she claimed that her true weight was 135. But she had generous hips and a full, heart-shaped ass, and her breasts . . . large and full and not artificial. Martha knew that for a fact. They’d hit it off rather well. Martha commented on Anna’s simple white cotton mini dress and black boots, and Anna thanked her and began engaging in small talk. They’d continued talking for about an hour when, all of a sudden, from out of nowhere, Anna asked, “Do you like sucking cock?” For a moment Martha didn’t know what to say. Finally she sputtered out, “I, ah, guess so.” “You guess so?” “Well!” Martha was more than a little confused. “Why are you asking?” “You ever let a guy cum on your tits?” Martha wanted to walk away, but strangely, she couldn’t. “Ye-yes.” Anna smiled. It was warm and friendly, but somehow predatory all the same. “I wanna watch you get mouth fucked by my boyfriend!” She leaned in close and whispered in Martha’s ear, “And then I wanna lick your tits clean after he cums on them.” An hour later a naked Martha was kneeling naked on Anna’s bed, as Anna’s boyfriend Greg face fucked her while Anna fingered her pussy and clit. Martha was lightheaded from the sex, and her orgasm were coming one right after the other in a wave so robust that she thought she might pass out. It was only after Greg shot his semen all over her breasts and Anna did indeed began licking up every drop that Martha allowed herself to collapse in a heap on the bed. And thus began her sexual adventures with Anna and Greg. None of them considered it “swinging”, though some might call it that. And their get-togethers weren’t always three-somes. Sometimes it was Martha with Greg, other times it was Martha and Anna. Sometimes it was all three. Twice the three of them hired a hooker and had a four-way party. And there was the time when Martha showed up at Anna’s, and Anna was going at it with a girlfriend and invited Martha to join in the fun. (It was later, after everything was cleaned up and put away, that Anna admitted she’d probably be a lesbian if it weren’t for the fact that she so enjoyed having guys cum inside her.) The fun had been ongoing for almost four years now, and nothing had changed; well, nothing except Martha’s weight. She’d slowly begun growing heavier, and though it might be her imagination, she thought her continued weight gain might be affecting Anna and Greg’s feelings towards her. The last few months it seemed as if Anna’s affections were waning (hence the quips about her girth), and whenever Greg and she got together, all he seemed interested in were blow jobs. Their attitudes were depressing her, and her depression was sort of making her want to find solace in food, which was making her heavier . . . she didn’t want to feel as she was feeling, but the last few years had been such fun, and if she was loosing that. She sighed as she picked up the jeans from the floor after dresses. What’s the point of getting these? she thought. Am I going to fit in them in a few months? Is anyone going to be interested in seeing me in them? Martha walked past Anna. “Something the matter?” asked Anna. “Yeah,” replied Martha. “I got a big problem!” It was over lunch at Anna’s place a couple of days later that Martha explained what was bothering her. “So you’re worried,” asked Anna, “that we’re gonna dump you because you’re . . . getting . . ..” Martha finished the question. “Fat.” “You said that, not me.” “You’re thinking it.” Anna took a moment to consider her reply. “I will admit you’ve been getting a tad more chunky than usual the last couple of years,” she finally said. “It’s not my fault,” said Martha. “It’s just… " “You can’t find a diet that works, right?” She nodded. “Just never had any luck, is all.” “I can understand that,” said Anna. She looked down into the glass of Coke she held. Martha snorted. “I can’t see how you could.” Now it was Anna’s turn to snort. “Please, girl. You think I always had this body?” Mystified with where Anna was going with this, she asked, “What do you mean? You didn’t always look this way?” “Hardly.” She leaned back in her chair. “When I was starting my junior year in high school, I weighted almost 240 pounds.” “Get out of here!” laughed Martha. “That’s impossible.” “I could show you pictures!” “You’re not kidding, are you?” Anna shook her head. “Nope. When I was young I was always heavy. Don’t know what it was: genes, diet . . . fuck if I know. My mother looked like a model and my dad was pretty athletic looking. Me? I was dumpy. The proverbial fat girl who everyone made fun of.” Anna gazed wistfully into the distance for a few moments before telling Martha, “I fucking hated my life.” Martha could sympathize, as she’d experience much the same when she’d been in school. “So what happen?” Anna was hesitating, but given that she’d mentioned her problem, Martha felt she had no choice but to explain her solution. “You have to promise me that you won’t say anything to anyone about this. Okay?” “Sure, sure,” replied Martha. “I mean, I won’t say a word.” “Okay.” Anna tented her hand and tapped her fingers for a few moments before saying, “I apprenticed with a witch the summer before my junior year.” Martha’s response was succinct. “Get the fuck outta here!” “Straight up, it’s true!” Anna raised her right hand as if to take an oath. “I’m swear, if I’m lying to you, I’ll slit my throat.” “You’re telling me you’re a witch,” said Martha. “And you lost weight through witchcraft?” “Among other things,” replied Anna. “It wasn’t just weight loss; I had to reshape my body.” “Stop, stop!” Anna cleared her throat. “You think I’m bullshitting you?” “How could you do something like that.” “Without anyone noticing?” Martha nodded. “I cast my spell in such a way that I melted away 10 pounds every month.” Anna shrugged. “People thought I was working out.” She got up from her chair and went to the sink. “By the time I was a senior I was down to 130 pounds,” she said, rinsing out her glass. Anna put it aside to dry and turned to Martha. “I made myself over into a younger version of what you see now. Went from Ugly Duckling to The Girl Most Likely to be Masturbated Over.” Grinning broadly, she finished by saying, “It was the best thing that ever happened to me.” “Learning witchcraft?” “Learning the Craft,” Anna said. “We don’t like to call it ‘witchcraft’.” “We? As in… " “Other witches.” Oh, yeah, this is just what I needed, thought Martha. My fuck buddy telling me she lost weight on the Witch Watchers Diet. Sighing loudly, Martha leaned against her right hand. “You gotta know this doesn’t sound . . . right,” she said. Rubbing her temple with her fingers, Martha said, “I mean, you tell me you’re a witch and that you changed yourself.” “Like this?” “What are you…” Martha looked up . . . and there was Anna, only it wasn’t really Anna, but it was as she was . . . Martha couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but she was one of those black hip-hop singers, real young and beautiful, and she was standing where Anna had been leaning against the sink. And as she watched the girl began to shrink down, becoming smaller, her skin color becoming lighter, the hair turning blond, and suddenly Anna was a perfect duplicate of a famous child actress, only the eyes there weren’t the eyes of a child, but more the eyes of an adult . . . ...

She sat there, her legs crossed and hands planted firmly in her lap. To anyone casually observing her they might think her no different then any other woman dressed with a bit of pirate flair. Such dress wasn’t uncommon these days. Especially for those in her scene and of her demeanor. There was however a storm brewing. She knew well the maelstrom brewing inside her thoughts, what she did not know however was how deep into the pit she was about to descend. ...

Since the day she moved in next door I had been helplessly in love with her. She was gorgeous and, during the summer, I spent hours looking out my upstairs window at her sunbathing in the back garden. In my mind Mary could have been the model for the ultimate in feminine beauty. I knew for a fact that she was 5’ 8”, 38” 24” 36” and lying in the sun gleaming with sheen of oil or dressed to perfection to go to her office, eye catching was an understatement. ...

I received a telephone call a few days ago whilst at home. At first I thought it was a standard survey until some unexpected questions came up. The next thing I know the woman at the end of the phone is arranging an appointment for me to meet someone next week. The woman on the phone gave me a name and address and told me to meet this person at 2pm next Thursday. I did enquire as to the reason for the meeting but was unable to get any more information out of her. After the phone call I tried a 1471 but was advised that the number had been withheld so I could not trace the call. As the day grew closer I became anxious as to the reason for the meeting. I had checked the address I had been given and it appeared to be a good 30 minutes bus ride away from my home so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. The day finally arrived and I decided to dress casually, I picked up my keys and headed down to the bus stop in good time. The bus arrived at 1:15 which gave me plenty of time before my appointment. I arrived at the address well before 2pm. I walked up to the house and rang the doorbell. After a short wait a young woman opened the front door, she was wearing a black and red corset which also had a very short PVC skirt attached and black PVC tights, she asked me for my name and then ushered me inside before closing the door. ...

Who knew? (alternate version) Who knew that such a trivial offense would earn you this, one of the worst, most horrible types of punishment imaginable? Who knew that doing something so small, so utterly small and insignificant could earn you the wrath of your master? Who knew indeed? Those were the thoughts that raced through your head that day as you sat in your cell, the door shut and locked, with those handcuffs locked around your wrists. Earlier in life those cuffs were a source of pleasure, of fun and excitement. Now they were grim restraints. ...

Who knew? (alternate version) Who knew that such a trivial offense would earn you this, one of the worst, most horrible types of punishment imaginable? Who knew that doing something so small, so utterly small and insignificant could earn you the wrath of your master? Who knew indeed? Those were the thoughts that raced through your head that day as you sat in your cell, the door shut and locked, with those handcuffs locked around your wrists. Earlier in life those cuffs were a source of pleasure, of fun and excitement. Now they were grim restraints. ...

It was a fairly quiet day at MNBC Construction Limited’s main office and Eileen, for one, was glad that it was like that. She had found her work as the head secretary for Dirk MacLain, owner of the firm, to be exhausting in many ways. If her normal duties of filing, answering the phones and taking messages from the offices wasn’t strenuous enough, Eileen was also enmeshed in a rather torrent affair with Dirk. Although Dirk was a married man, it didn’t deter Eileen from pursuing him one numerous levels. From letting her hand linger on top of Dirk’s when he was discussing a day’s activities to purposefully leaving her blouse unbuttoned so her boss could see her ample sized boobs, the brunette was unrelenting in her advances. After some brief reluctance on his part, Dirk invited Eileen to dinner after work one night and from there their relationship blossomed quickly. It was a clandestine affair, at present, but Eileen had high hopes that eventually it would lead to a more permanent relationship. " Hello? Hello, miss? Look, I haven’t got all day to stand here and wait for you to become aware of the world around you!! " a woman snapped as she stood in front of Eileen and waved her hand in front of the secretary’s face. " Huh? Oh, sorry about that, ma’am. I was just thinking of… " the secretary started to stammer in response before the visitor interrupted her by slapping her purse down on Eileen’s desk. " Look, honey, I don’t want to hear your life story. My name is Doreen McMurtry and I flew across the country to be here for a meeting with your boss so if you don’t mind getting your head out of the clouds, could you please inform him that Miss McMurtry is here for the 3:00 appointment? " the visitor snapped impatiently while glancing at the expensive looking watch on her left wrist. " Of course, of course, sorry about that, Miss McMurtry, " Eileen said apologetically as she picked up her telephone receiver and notified her boss of his waiting appointment. Moments later, Eileen ushered a frigid Doreen into her employer’s office and resumed her work while trying to put the unpleasant woman’s attitude out of her mind. Thirty or so minutes later, Doreen and Dirk left the office with both of them laughing and in a jovial mood. After bidding his visitor good-bye, Dirk returned to his office to take an overseas call he had been anticipating. With that, Eileen was left alone with Doreen, whose serene expression disappeared with the door’s closure. " Well, honey, I’ll be back in a week to meet with your boss once again. If you haven’t fired during my absence for incompetence, I’ll see you then! Ta ta!! " Doreen said icily before slipping a pair of expensive sunglasses over her eyes and strutting out of the office. " Stuck-up pretentious bitch! I swear, if I wasn’t scared that I’d cause Dirk to lose business, I’d tell you where to stick those sunglasses and attitude!!! " Eileen thought to herself as she watched the guest leave. She was about to stand up and go into Dirk’s office to write down his itinerary for the rest of the week when the phone rang. To Eileen’s annoyance, it was the other thorn in her personal life: Dirk’s wife Janice. She wanted to talk to Dirk right away concerning something about items he had brought back from his trip to Europe. Eileen avoided any small talk arising by quickly connecting her with Dirk and hung up. Fifteen or minutes later, Eileen was just finishing some routine work on her computer when Dirk poked his head and asked her to come in. Figuring he wanted to dictate his schedule for the next few days, Eileen grabbed a stylus and electronic pad and swiftly went into the office. " Sorry, Eileen, but you can put the pad and pen away as this has nothing to do with work. The woman who was just here will be sending me a very important package in the next week or so and I want you to keep a keen eye out for it. It’s something quite unusual, to say the least, " Dirk said as he embraced his secretary passionately after the door was closed. Eileen raised her left eyebrow slightly in a quizzical manner. " Is this something business related or something on a far more…..mmmmm….personal level? " she asked while licking her moist lips with her tongue in an enticing way. Dirk chuckled and kissed her on the lips passionately. " I think an old friend of mine once said that all business deals get personal at some point. Tell ya what, when the package gets here, I’ll show you what’s inside and the reason I’m so keen on it, " the businessman said wryly. Her curiosity peaked, Eileen tried to elicit more details about the mystery item in question but got nowhere fast. Dirk reassured her and after a few minutes of small talk, the two separated and went back to their respective jobs. The rest of the day as well as the next day proved to be routine for Eileen but on Friday there as an incident that cast a dark cloud over everything. During the afternoon, Dirk’s wife Janice came storming in with a look of disgust and anger visible on her face. The upset woman brushed past Eileen without uttering a word and stormed into Dirk’s office with a great urgency. For the next fifteen minutes or so, there was a great deal of screaming and shouting coming from the office though Eileen couldn’t make out what they were talking about. A short while later, Janice stormed out of the office and left without another work spoken. " Geez, it’s like every woman coming through here is suffering from PMS………sheesh! " Eileen thought to herself as she waited for Dirk to summon her into the office to tell her everything. Strangely, though, there was no such call which Eileen reasoned that it meant the fight was over something that didn’t really concern her. Two days later……………. The rugged looking delivery man seemed to be completely oblivious to Eileen’s subtle flirting with him as he handed the secretary a form to sign. After jotting down her signature, Eileen handed the clipboard back to the man and watched him go with a long, lustful look. Snapping out of her reverie, she turned her attention to the package just delivered and saw, with great interest, that it originated all the way from Taiwan and the sender was Miss McMurtry. " Ah, great, the package I’ve expecting is here. Bring it in the office, Eileen, and I’ll tell you all about the item inside! " Dirk exclaimed upon opening his office door and seeing the package on the secretary’s desk. A minute or so later, he was unwrapping the package and handing the remnants to Eileen, who noted that even the paper seemed to be older than what she usually saw. " Six months or so ago, I was in a local library looking for a few books on archeology, a subject I minored in when at college, when I came across a book the library had recently acquired as part of a donation from an estate. I was leafing through the pages when I came across a picture of this, " Dirk said as he reached into the box and pulled out the item in question. Eileen was intrigued to see what looked like a bronze statue of a sumo wrestler bent at the waist with what looked a symbol of Ying and Yang mounted on the figure’s back. There seemed to be sort of Chinese letters inscribed on the base though they didn’t resemble any from the modern versions Eileen had seen in business letters. " This figure was located in an excavation headed up by an old college friend of mine in northern Tibet. He was focused on finding a few items that interested him and his museum employers but was willing to sell me any items that weren’t on his list very quietly and discreetly. This item, according to the local legends, acted in a manner similar to the legendary monkey’s paw that has been written about in legends and stories. The statue grants the owner three wishes that can bestow great power and wealth beyond imagination. However, the legend also goes that the wishes granted are balanced by other changes to the owner’s current life that may be adverse in nature. This would explain the Ying/Yang symbols on the statue, " Dirk intoned as he tapped the desk next to the figure. " How does the item know who the owner is? Do you have to hold it up in the middle of a full moon or something like that? " Eileen asked in a semi serious manner. Dirk smiled and quietly shook his head. " As far as I can tell, nope. The statue seems to sense the individual who desires to use it and how many wishes it may have granted in the past, " the businessman said. " Cool! Is there a chance you might be willing to give me a wish first? I’ve got a few ideas that I’d like to put into motion, " Eileen said as she cast a gaze downwards at her body to indicate what she had in mind. Chuckling, Dirk once again shook his head. " Not right away, sweetie. I want to do more research on the negative effects of a wish before I take a shot at using this idol, " he said as he reached behind himself for what looked like a cloth bag. After pulling the bag over the idol, Dirk embraced his secretary and asked her to return to her desk as he was expecting another visitor within 30 minutes or so. Roughly 30 or so minutes later……………. “………..I don’t know what you’re talking about. I really think you ought to calm down a little, " Dirk said to the visitor in his office before the sound of a hand smacking down on the desk interrupted his speech. " Look, I don’t want to hear your pathetic attempts to mollify me in any way or your weak attempt to bribe me. The P.I. I hired gave me all the incriminating photos I need of the affair you’re having with your dim bulbed secretary. Either you agree to sell me your company at a price greatly below market value or I leak these photos to every tabloid and business magazine I can think of in the world. It may not affect affect your business dealings but between your wife seeking a nasty divorce rather quickly and your loyal customers quickly abandoning a company that proclaims itself ’ a family friendly work atmosphere, you’ll be ruined in no time flat! " Doreen snarled as she tapped an envelope in her left hand for emphasis. " Doreen, I don’t know what you think you have on me but I can assure you that I don’t respond well to blackmail. If you leave now and promise not to make these kind of unfounded accusations public, I’ll forget that this particular meeting ever happened, " Dirk replied coolly as he hoped to try and bluff his way out of the sticky situation. However, if Dirk thought he was mollifying Doreen in any way, he was sadly mistaken as the woman angrily brushed the majority of the desk top’s contents onto the floor and walked to the left side where she rested her right hand on the desk on what escaped her wrath. " Do I look like the kind of woman who you can toy with? A woman you can play mind fucking games with? Listen, I wish you’d think I’m some kind of fucking toy that you c- " Doreen started to say before falling silent in mid sentence as her body grew rigid with her right hand, resting atop the edge of Dirk’s mysterious idol, slightly glowing. As Dirk watched in stunned amazement, Doreen’s clothes vanished altogether in a blink of an eye and the woman slumped to the floor as if she no longer had any strength in her limbs. Her skin started to take on a glossy appearance with blemishes and freckles quickly disappearing. Doreen’s legs slowly spread apart to form an obscene V shape with what looked like seams forming on each of the limbs. Her pussy twitched and contorted before settling into an ovular shape, with an interior sac made of rubber and latex, similar to her mouth. While this was happening, her anus was shifting upwards by several inches before forming into an opening that was exactly like the other two. From Doreen’s perspective, the changes that were happening to her body were shocking and were affecting her mentally as well as physically. " A LOVE DOLL!!….I’M BECOMING A FUCKING BLOW-UP DOLL….THIS CAN’T BE!!…I’M A GOOD DOLL…FUCK ME PLEASE!!!!……. " she thought as her outrage changed rapidly to simple thoughts of being caressed and used by her owner. As Doreen pondered her new existence, the transformation swept upwards through her increasingly light body with her breasts growing slightly larger before forming two mounds of latex capped by bright pink areolas and nipples that jutted outwards invitingly. Seams could be seen around her breasts as well as on her arms, legs and waist and what seemed to Doreen to be an inflation plug growing out of her back. Her mouth slowly pulled into an O shape like her other two openings with her teeth and tongue disappearing. Even as Doreen’s eyes changed into painted features and her hair became nothing more than synthetic fibers, the office she and Dirk was in seemed to shimmer and change as well. The furniture and decorations changed and became slightly less expensive in appearance and look. The most extreme change was perhaps the smallest of all as the plaque on Dirk’s desk changed from PRESIDENT to VICE-PRESIDENT in gold letters. " Whoah!!! That idol can do quite the job with a wish. Well, before I head up to the president’s office and talk with that bitch Janice in an hour or so, I might as well see just how good this dolly is, " Dirk said smugly as he picked up the doll and carried it over behind his desk. With that, the room went silent save for the quiet sound of a man’s zipper lowering followed by the sound of latex slapping against bare skin. ...

A slender young woman walks down the street heading for her appointment. As you would expect she gets her share of looks as the various men, and sometimes even women peek back at her black nylon clad legs coming from under her trenchcoat and ending in 6 inch heels. Her long midnight hair perfectly straight and sheen. You would probably think Maria was a model from looking at her. But no, she wasn’t. She was an average girl, with a regular life. Maria had a job as a secretary, an apartment, a boyfriend named Tom, and a rubber fetish you could only dream about. Ok, well perhaps its not all regular. She did have one problem, however. This was what she was going to this appointment to fix. ...

Dave and Cherie planned to get married. Dave was an amateur mime act who had the knack of becoming a statue by remaining perfectly still for hours. Cherie was a computer programmer. She earned a lot more than Dave. His main job as self employed was as an electrician. Dave had no work going so decided that he would go to Edinburgh and appear in the street as a statue. “They make a lot of money during the festival” he told Cherie. Cherie said she would not go, but if that is what he wanted, then she would not stop him. ...

The following is a work of erotic fiction that involves bondage, mummification, and adult themes. If these subjects are bothersome to you, stop reading now. As I tracked Diana’s form making its way out of the city, his mind flashed back to the words the General had spoken before the beginning of the exam. “You are about to be locked into the simulation chamber you have all grown to both enjoy and despise. There, you will match skills against your fellow classmates as you attempt to gather the full cryptographic key necessary to unlock the door to the chamber. Each of you will be provided one portion of the key, which will be turned over to the individual that manages to affect your capture.” ...

continued from part 7 Chapter 8: Tables Turning! Although she knew that he was now asleep, she quite enjoyed her position, but she withdrew, unsnapping her collar and then pulling out her sweaty head. She then pulled off his slave pants and tucked his cock and balls back in his suit. There was much to do! She thought he looked quite cute, lying there in his deep sleep, his handsome face, what she could see of it, in repose. She decided it was time to see his face; an unmasking was needed. She wanted to look at her captor, and she pulled off his mask. Well, he was really very handsome; she didn’t expect an ogre but he would turn heads, that’s for sure. He had mousy short hair, high cheekbones, no jowls and a faint beard line, a little androgynous, but very sexy. So what was the problem? ...

continued from part 5 Chapter 6: And So To Bed As she lay back in the bath, she reflected on the day. It had gone well, and she had gained more of his confidence. Yes, she had been bridled and bitted and then blown up in a rubber ball, but somehow she had not found it so terrible. She had genuinely enjoyed the sensation of being a pony, feeling the commands of the reins through her bit and trusting him as she ran, completely blind. Even the rubber ball was not so terrible, she trusted him that he would release her and after the initial nerves, she drifted off, almost as if in the womb. These feelings on the one hand worried her, and on the other quite excited her. She was smart enough to analyse the fact that she was not now the woman she once was, or would ever be again. She was more attuned to her sexuality, and certainly much more adventurous. He had opened up something within her and like Pandora’s box it couldn’t be put back. ...

The name of the store was “Dreams and Dreads”, it was one of those small fetish stores selling everything Susan’s dreams were made of. Hoods, corsets, shoes, all made of rubber in various colours. Susan spent much of her free time, and much of her free money as well, in this little store. Ever since she had discovered her liking of “unusual” wear, she lived up to her fetish as much as she could. For work she wore her simple “business attire”, but in the last few months she wore latex bras and panties underneath. She’d spend the weekends wrapped up in her favourite material and in special clubs and, from time to time, with special friends, both male and female. ...

This story is from my side of the bag. The victim could be anyone of you, but it’s me who is doing the bagging! You hear the knock at the door, as your heart begins to race. You’ve waited for this all day, and now the moment has arrived. You open the door to find me standing there wearing the tightest pair of black leather pants you’ve seen, a tight white t-shirt that reveals my perky breasts, and skintight leather gloves. ...

Chapter Four: Stranger in the Night All the rooms were dark as they moved through the hallway towards my bedroom, their footsteps making little noise as they continued to approach the very room where I lay bound and enclosed in my self-involvement, too engrossed to hear any noise other than the small groans behind my gag that I was making as the pleasure within me intensified. The door crept open slowly, but my head was turned the other way, even so, my eyes were tightly closed and I wouldn’t have seen the opening of the door. They came into the room and were greeted by the sight of a black-clad figure of a woman tightly tied and thoroughly enjoying herself, moving around on her bed, her hips gyrating and her bottom moving deliciously within the latex, a lovely sight to see, intoxicating and inviting. ...

Talking with a special friend online, I found my attention for the forums and the porn sites waning. It had been about six months since my last posting, and it seemed my involvement was never missed. I had gotten very caught up in my work, and not given much thought to my kink. In all of my fantasies, I was constantly being treated like an object. This had many different angles, but in every scenario, I was the center of attention. I think that I become blind to the needs of others, and this “fantasy” that I have to be mummified, or encased, is just proof. I feel selfish and negligent. Had I not the ability to carry a relationship? No, certainly there was someone out there for me… and I would find them. ...

Hah! Diana said to herself as George stomped away and out the gate. Served him right. Husband he may be but this was the nineties for god’s sake! If he ever tried to blow their holiday fund on something like that again she’d REALLY blow her top. She faintly heard him revving the engine on the new sports car he’d bought (a ferrari she thought) with their money. He kept revving it for a bit before finally tearing off down the street to take it back to the dealer. ...

It had been a long day. Chastity McCullock settled into her usual seat on the train and settled in for the 15-minute ride home. Home sounded much better than Domicile 38s (single), level 5, block 3, dome 7, undersea habitation area 33. Whatever you called it, it was Chastity’s refuge from the world. Chastity was a computer programmer, practically the only job remaining in this modern, computerized world. With practically the entire land area of the world covered by manufacturing and food production facilities, humanity had retreated into underground and underwater communities. There, they grew increasingly pampered by the swiftly evolving computers that could now provide nearly anything the human mind could conceive. Creating new programs for these computers was one of the few occupations that still required human participation. ...

What A Girl Wants by Andy Joanne was becoming a difficult student. This was her final year of A-levels and her antics were beginning to get disruptive in class and a number of the other students were beginning to act up also. Mrs. Stevens, the Head Teacher put this misbehaving down to the fact that Joanne had had 3 different form tutors in this year alone, which itself is not conducive to a stable educational atmosphere. ...

(story continues from Simucrom) Linda barged into her small apartment, the shopping bag rustling in her hands, breath quick in her throat. Home! Finally! Stepping to the center of her living room, she tossed off her clothing as quickly as she could before settling cross-legged onto the carpet. From the bag she pulled her purchase, a new Simucrom chip. The fingers that held it trembled. She looked to the low shelf where the little black-plastic simucrom unit sat. Next to it was the “Janna” chip. Over the last two weeks, every moment not stolen by sleep or work had been devoted to Janna. Little Janna, with her dark little smile and smutty little torments. Linda had basked in the simulated sexual adventure. Sometimes, she gave herself away to Janna’s control. Other times, she ran the sim in sandbox mode, mercilessly tormenting the little Indian. ...

Part One I didn’t remember even applying for the job, it was just one of those vast numbers of adverts I had seen and applied for in the six months since I had left school. But now I had an interview! OK I had had many interviews in the past, but they were all bottom of the scrap heap type jobs – like MacDonald’s – and I had even failed to get a job there. But this job actually looked good – now that I found the paperwork, an office assistant – even I could do that! OK I wasn’t stupid, but I am not a rocket scientist either! ...

Tentacles! by Enclosed Lady – enclosedlady (at) yahoo (dot) com A chemical female scientist tested her new rubber experience to enclose her ex-submissive girlfriend. During the process, the female meet some tormenting uninvited guests…. Year 2083 - at 17:00 Paula entered the elevator in secret military base. Meters below the surface, the doors opened revealing a long metallic corridor, a scenario only seen in science fiction movies. The steps of Paula echoed through the hall until she stopped in front of a large metal door passing her authorization card and password to open it. Inside, the laboratory was very advanced with huge equipments, computers and chemical liquids. Paula was proud of being the Chief of Bio-chemical research for the government, a position she achieved after a quick relationship with another woman, in the Administration Boarder. Something of course, she wanted out of her records and she knew exactly how… ...

Diane’s Tale by Rbbral Note: I while ago I went to see the movie “Demonlover”. It was a cautionary tale about a woman involved in corporate espionage, who gets in way over her head. I would recommend it to any in the pervy community, despite the fact that much of what went on was not “consensual”. The lead was played by the cool but sensually stunning Connie Nielson, and as Diane she gets involved with the internet, Japanese anime and unwittingly an interactive SM site. The film has a truly haunting ending with Diane in some serious trouble (it was a French movie, so no happy Hollywood ending). Throughout the movie she had sought power and at the end she is a powerless pawn, to be played with, possibly for the rest of her life or until they tire of her, by forces well beyond her imagination. As is often the case it got me to thinking about what would have happened to Diane and, as I did after I watched another great, but somewhat strange French movie, “The Piano Teacher” (with the equally sublime and gifted Isabelle Huppert) I decided to stretch my fantasies and write my own sequel, just for the fun of it. For Diane’s story I have written it through her eyes. The first part is a synopsis of the movie, and if you haven’t seen it and don’t want to spoil your viewing then ignore the first part of this! ...

Packaged Story Contest 2005 Entrant “Let’s see, is that everything?” Glancing around, Stacy tried to think of anything she might have forgotten. As far as she could tell, she’d gotten everything. Which was good, she thought, looking at the trunk standing open at the bottom of the stairs. She seriously doubted she could fit much more in there. Not that she cared how much she had to cram into the thing. She’d cram stuff in to get rid of him. ...

This is not a happy, fun bondage story. If you don’t like grim stuff, then you probably won’t enjoy this story. A special thank you must go to the members of the Gromets plaza forum, whose input and suggestions helped shape this story into its final form “Goodnight!” Twenty three-year-old Rebecca watched as the two old people walked out of the restaurant into the cold night. She let out a sigh of satisfaction. Two more happy customers. She put herself to work, clearing off the table that was covered in dishes and dirty utensils. ...

Rbrbill’s Final Conversion Part 2 by Rbrbill Rbrbill’s Final Conversion Part 2 (Shirley’s Journey) Chapter 1 - Thoughts, Feelings, Revelations Several weeks have passed since Rbrbill (Thing) was put into his punishment program. Angelica was in her usual place; sitting on the chaise lounge in the pit while Thing went through the treadmill paces. He’d been at it now over two hours and the heavy steps from his ballet boot shod feet disclosed the exhaustion in his body. The machine stopped for one of the rest cycles. These were always fun since “rest” was really misleading. The stopping of the mill just invoked an enema flush and the firing up of those gloriously pulsating rings. Angelica often fantasized about taking that vibrating monster inside her as she watched it squeezed and relax in rippling massage. She just knew that the same caresses driving Thing to uncontrolled orgasm would surely do the same for her. But he was the Thing and she, the Mistress who had to maintain the discipline and mechanical nature of the regimen. She felt that introducing her hot wet pussy, even rubber-sheathed, onto that rod, no matter how gloriously sensual it might be, would destroy the developing servitude and broken spirit she desired in Thing. ...

This is the second part of Mummified and Eaten. It follows Jonathan’s story after his mummified wife was eaten. It’s delicious to watch. I sit here in my chair, watching my lovely but unfaithful wife be eaten alive by a huge anaconda. And to top it all off, she is also mummified at the same time. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on by something before. The snake reaches my wife’s head, and I think I need to say something. I get up out of my chair and walk over to my wife, who looks up at me with pleading eyes. “Don’t worry.” I say. “It will be over soon.” ...

“Beddybyes.” She said, striding purposefully into the room. He sat up, with difficulty. After his capture in the morning he had been depilated fully - body, face and head, such that now his body was soft and pinky white. He had been enema’d and then pushed into this cot – a larger than normal baby’s cot. He looked down at himself again, hardly believing the sight. He was dressed in a shocking pink romper suit. It was long-sleeved, high-necked and fitted snugly around his hairless groin and backside. There were frills in brilliant white at his wrists, neck and the top of his thighs. There was single zip at the back and no other entry point. ...

(story continues from Mother-in-laws revenge) Mother-in-laws revenge part 2 by Pete When Marlene had finished pleasuring her with my tongue she stood up and fastened her gown. She looked down at me ‘did you enjoy that?’ she asked. ‘Yes, Mistress’ I replied. She smiled and strode out of the room closing the door behind her. I lay motionless for a moment the skirt she had dressed me in had ridden up to my waist exposing my cock and balls and the suspenders and stockings she had put on me. I rolled on to my stomach and brought my ankles up to my wrists and began trying to free myself. After several attempts I managed to loosen the knot and with in a few minutes I had removed the rope from round my ankles. My legs were still tied together above the knee. I tried to wriggle my wrists to create some slack, but they were to tightly bound and were now beginning to hurt. I could not loosen the rope around my knees as she had knotted it at the front. After 20 minutes or so I gave up, I lay there on my stomach wondering what she had planned for me? She couldn’t possibly keep me tied up for 2 weeks, and as soon as she untied me that would be the end of her little game. I awaited her return. I could see the clock on the wall and after an hour had passed I heard the door to the lounge opening. Marlene walked back in, she had dressed now. She stood over me and placed her foot on my head digging the heel of her stiletto in. ‘What’s my name?’ she asked. ‘Mistress’ I replied. ‘Get up slave’ she ordered removing her foot from my head. I rolled over on to my back and sat up. After a minute or so I managed to get to my knees and then force myself upright. i nearly fell as i did so the ropes around my wrists and knees were hurting now. ‘Over here sit on the coffee table’ Marlene ordered. I waddled over to the coffee table and sat on it facing the sofa. Marlene undid the rope around my knees. I was relieved at this. ‘Spread your legs for me’ Marlene said. I did as i was told. Marlene pulled my left ankle out wide and tied it to the leg of the table and the same with the right. She stood in front of me leaned towards me an undid the blouse she had dressed me in earlier. She pulled it down over my shoulders exposing the black lacey bra. Marlene rubbed my nipples through the material, putting one hand down inside the cup or the bra to pinch it. ‘ow that hurts’ I yelped. She slapped me hard across the face. ‘Ow that hurts what?’ she asked. ‘Ow that hurts Mistress’ I said my left cheek stinging from the smack. ‘You speak only when spoken to, is that understood?’ ‘Yes Mistress’ She sat on the sofa facing me, kicking off her shoes she rested them on the table between my legs. As she did this i got a glimpse of her stocking tops the short skirt she was wearing rode up as she slouched on the sofa. ‘Thinking of escaping’ she asked ‘No Mistress’ ‘The truth please slave’ ‘Yes Mistress’ ‘Well you can forget all about that, your mine for the next 2 weeks’ ‘I don’t care if you show the video to Andrea, you being her mother I don’t think she would have anything to do with you if she knows what’s been going on mistress’ ‘I thought you might say that’ said Marlene. She got up and walked over to the other side of the room. She was behind me now and I couldn’t see what she was doing. ‘I’m going to have to gag you first’ said Marlene as the ball of the gag was pushed into my mouth. She buckled the strap behind my head. ‘How’s that feel’ she enquired. I tried to say it’s very tight mistress, but all that came out was a muffled mmmph. ...

Fallenescence by Toran Fallenescence by Toran Amy Lay’s gaze, black with brooding Goth smudges above and below incredibly icy blue eyes, locked with Gwendolyn’s and Gwen couldn’t look away. Front row tickets to Fallenescence were compliments of Gwen’s girl friend, Penelope, and though Gwen had heard of the Goth band, she’d never actually heard them. Amy smirked, pointed a finger at Gwen and screamed something about gagged lips and tears of pain into the microphone as thousands of Fallenites chanted the words in unison. The arena was rocking and Gwen was as caught as caught could be. Amy’s tight leather pants that had spawned spiked boots paraded the Queen of Goth around stage as her black leather clad band danced around her, power chords ripping and rolling over the throngs that pressed Gwen and Penny tighter to the front of the stage. Amy looked back over her shoulder from the far side of the stage and again pointed at Gwen. Gwen shuddered – it seemed that the gothrocker was pointing right at her. For just a second, Gwen wondered what those blood red lips tasted like, what Amy’s full and straining breasts felt like as Gwen tussled with a stiff nipple, whether Amy smelled the same way as she did when things just felt right, when the urgency suddenly felt needed, when the world meant only one thing, only one hunger… ...

An alternative chapter from the classic book Miss High Heels which involves female domination, severe bondage with rope, silk scarves, bed linen and other laundry items of torment, and a hint of crossdressing. This tale of cross dressing and bondage was inspired by the book Miss High heels, in which a young boy, Evelyn Beryl, so infuriates his governess with his behaviour that she conspires with his aunt and ward and resolves to turn him into a woman. Kidnapped by the pair, he undergoes a period of enforced feminization and bondage before being sent away to a girls school where he is conditioned both mentally and physically to think of himself as a girl. Now a grown young woman called Denise, he returns to his governess Miss Priscilla at the end of his schooling, where she resolves to further her control over him by keeping her as a young lady under her strict discipline……… ...

Jenny had tied herself on Mikes porch to await his return and wasn’t disappointed by the results, an afternoon in bondage as his slave, but then to her delight she discovered something more… (this part inspired by the comic serial “Katya” ) continued from part two Part 3: Punished! You may recall that I’d tied myself up on Mike’s porch to await his arrival at his cabin. Mike had then left me bound until later, when he took me to his bed and bound me spread-eagled and used me for his pleasure (and mine). Later on I’d found a latex catsuit that had belonged to his ex-wife, Mike had helped me put it on, the feelings that I got when wearing latex for the first time just made me want to reward Mike, which I did on my knees, if you know what I mean! ...

The Journey by Rainbow Golding The Journey by Rainbow Golding Finally, Christina had everything she needed from the shops. It was a ridiculously menial chore, but it had to be done. Moving outside the local supermarket, Christina rolled her trolley slowly towards her hatchback, and reached into her pocket to fetch her car keys, so she could open the boot. In the parking bay next to her, she spotted a familiar sight. It was Melanie’s Land Rover, towering above the rest of the cars. Soon enough, Christina spotted her friend moving towards her, carrying two paper bags under her arms. Just before Mel reached her car, the bags split, depositing the contents all over the car park. ...

(story continues from A Novel Idea 3) A Novel Idea- Part 4 by Tied2achair A Novel Idea by Tied2aChair Pain unlike rain never does stop. Just when you think it might let up it finds a new way of reminding you that it is there. The reminder that he was getting came from the strangest of places his neck. The six or so layers of duct tape that currently encompassed his neck were beginning to stick to his neck hair thus when he turned his neck whack instant nair no more neck hair and a heck of lot of pain. Then came his cock and balls they were encased in two separate cuffs fastened extremely tight thus his wrists could not move without tugging on an already swollen and rock hard member. So he tried to be as still as possible knowing that the slightest move in any direction would mean instant torment and of course more pain. ...

The Boots by Aka Thoth The name of the store was “Dreams and Dreads”, it was one of those small fetish stores selling everything Susan’s dreams were made of. Hoods, corsets, shoes, all made of rubber in various colours. Susan spent much of her free time, and much of her free money as well, in this little store. Ever since she had discovered her liking of “unusual” wear, she lived up to her fetish as much as she could. For work she wore her simple “business attire”, but in the last few months she wore latex bras and panties underneath. She’d spend the weekends wrapped up in her favourite material and in special clubs and, from time to time, with special friends, both male and female. ...

Part Two - Byron Anne turned to Laura and let out a sigh. It had only been a couple of weeks since Anne had sub-let some of her shop space to Byron and already she was beginning to regret it a lot. Sure, Byron’s ground rent and the extra custom were great, it was just that he was so annoying. He had this real thing about going on about how women were wasting their role in the S&M scene. He reckoned there should be a lot more of them enjoying it, it gave women a real chance to be superior in their life styles and so on. Anne and Laura had discussed this with Byron and with each other, on their own, Anne and Laura were both convinced that it was because Byron was frustrated about not being able to find a girl who shared his interests. Not particularly unusual, but it happens. ...

Among The Missing by Rubberwolf Among The Missing by Rubberwolf Foreword Snow blanketed the surrounding landscape and a cold breeze blew in from the grey sea, causing a shudder through the assembled crowd. As if the pale moon were an inadequate illumination for the evening, the lighthouse, jutting out from the island on a narrow peninsular some five miles away, passed it’s strong beam over the people, who still needed the comfort of flash lights to banish the darkness from their midst. ...

The Twin’s Gift by Tyler Knotts The Twin’s Gift by Tyler Knotts I have twin girls, Seka and Sela that I keep as bondage pets and occasional sex slaves. I don’t even know their real names and don’t really need to. Hell, I don’t even know if they’re really sisters! They claim to be twins and play that up all the time by wearing matching clothes, shoes and wigs. It’s kind of juvenile I guess but they are cute as hell, and of course every guy dreams of nailing twin sisters, right? They are both brunettes (when they’re not in disguise) and are tall and shapely. I’m a leg man and both their sets go on forever. Both girls are very athletic and powerfully built. I tell you, they could both kick my ass and overpower me… and sometimes I let them! These two are crazy sexy too and will do anything for a thrill. ...

Good Things Come by Godless One Good Things Come by Godless One E-mail - [email protected] A knock came upon the polished door of the apartment, echoing softly throughout the interior. Punctual, thought the young man within, standing near the small bar that lay between the kitchen and living room with a drink in hand. A sip was taken before he decided to answer the door, giving the caller a chance to wait a moment, adding perhaps to whatever suspense might be on the person’s mind. He didn’t delude himself into thinking that this sort of person would be breaking into a sweat, shivering and worrying and wondering what might be in store for them. It was the nature of their occupation that they be smooth as silk and strong as steel. In any case, his steps upon the carpet were near silent as he stepped towards the door, turning the latch-like handle and opening it. ...

Lisa stood in the darkest corner she could find, looking across the alleyway at the factory doors shut tightly in front of her. It was an excellent job she had landed with the private investigation company she now worked for and she was very happy to get it. Her boss Mrs Bond had seemed very impressed with her even though she had limited experience of this line of work, only working in a local paper for a short year while studying for her degree. “Hardly a hot bed of intrigue and danger.” She thought at the time, but it looked like it was just the sort of thing her new employer was looking for. ...

Lisa stood in the darkest corner she could find, looking across the alleyway at the factory doors shut tightly in front of her. It was an excellent job she had landed with the private investigation company she now worked for and she was very happy to get it. Her boss Mrs Bond had seemed very impressed with her even though she had limited experience of this line of work, only working in a local paper for a short year while studying for her degree. “Hardly a hot bed of intrigue and danger.” She thought at the time, but it looked like it was just the sort of thing her new employer was looking for. ...

Teaching the Teacher by Sundel BUT IT STARTED AS A HOGTIE!byANNE GRAY As a new principal at forty years old, I thought that I had outgrown some of my earlier problems when I had taught middle school classes. Little did I know how memories linger. I thought it was by accident when I met Susan at the convenience store one afternoon. Susan was eighteen, pretty as a girl can be, but petite - no more than 5'1" and 100 pounds. Draw your own picture. Susan had been a student of mine eight or nine years before - but now she was a nineteen year old college student, and home for summer when we met. As a student, she had been a little rebellious in my classes, but nothing more than the average middle school student. Or so I thought. ...

Parole or Punishment? by Yoni Steele Parole or Punishment? By Yoni Steele Part 1 It was a rather pleasant, spring Sunday evening. I had only been in town for a few hours and was enjoying a lovely walk along the somewhat deserted streets in a city shutting down for the night, thinking about my plans for the up-coming week. It was the start of what I felt was a hard-earned vacation, and I was looking forward to seeing the sights. I had been to Washington, DC, many times before, but it had always been for business. The museums and monuments had been tantalizing when I had driven around after those business meetings; but it was always too late to do anything on those occasions, other than enjoy the wide variety of cuisine in the numerous restaurants. So for the first time I found myself with the opportunity to do whatever I wanted. My agenda for the next six days included lots of places to visit, but as it was a Sunday evening, I had nothing scheduled other than wandering around. ...

Ann, had lived next to her neighbor Karen, since she and Alan had gotten married and moved there. Karen was a divorcee, five foot, six inches tall with black, short cut hair. 35 years old, not a bad figure, even after having a child. Karen was always over at Ann’s house, showing an extraordinary amount of interest in Ann’s husband Alan. She was constantly offering to help do this and help with that, when Alan was around. It had been quite obvious to Ann, even when they all went out as couples on a Friday night, (Karen brought her boyfriend.) Though Ann was not sure if Alan noticed, or was even interested. While they sat at the table, Karen was always very attentive to Alan’s every word and gesture. She would hang on his arm like a leech, laughing at every joke. (No matter how good.. or bad.) ...

continued from part one Part Three As Tiffany continued to pat her self on the back for her great save; she was still holding her hand over my mouth. Then Donna whispered in a low voice, “You all most got me, that was a bad boy! What are we going to do now that you already had a misfire. First things were going to untie you from the table and only the table then will sit you up.” Then with a pain full flick on the head of my penis Donna says, “Don’t make a sound or you’ll be sorry do you understand?” I then nodded yes. Still Blindfolded I felt the hand go away from my mouth and my body being sat up. Tiffany then asks Donna, “Is it time for you know what?” Donna then replies, “I guess so, go and get it.” As I sat there on the table Mummified and Blindfolded my mind went blank, now what. ...

Automated Packaging Processes Incorporated, better known as A.P.P.I. Invented, constructed and marketed the leading packaging technology on the planet; their systems were the fastest and the most reliable. However not always the cheapest. They tended to sell the bulk of their machines to high technology component manufactures who needed products delicately handled as well as companies that made surgical equipment that needed to be treated hygienically. APPI had a reasonably profitable business producing equipment for niche markets. One of their latest devices was designed with under sea exploration in mind; it could package artefacts under water preserving them against damage from transportation, changes in pressure current etc. Allowing sunken artefacts to be handled far better than any human. Ned Ramstien, the director of special projects handled the manufacture of these one off machines. Not only was he an expert with mechanical devices and chemical processes but he had a very methodical mind. He could look at a problem take it to pieces and come up with a very comprehensive solution. ...

Automated Packaging Processes Incorporated, better known as A.P.P.I. Invented, constructed and marketed the leading packaging technology on the planet; their systems were the fastest and the most reliable. However not always the cheapest. They tended to sell the bulk of their machines to high technology component manufactures who needed products delicately handled as well as companies that made surgical equipment that needed to be treated hygienically. APPI had a reasonably profitable business producing equipment for niche markets. One of their latest devices was designed with under sea exploration in mind; it could package artefacts under water preserving them against damage from transportation, changes in pressure current etc. Allowing sunken artefacts to be handled far better than any human. Ned Ramstien, the director of special projects handled the manufacture of these one off machines. Not only was he an expert with mechanical devices and chemical processes but he had a very methodical mind. He could look at a problem take it to pieces and come up with a very comprehensive solution. ...

Angry Sister by nikkiroselee Back when I was a young girl I was into bondage. Being 14 there was no way I could ask anyone to tie me up and make me their slave. I used to love watch Terri Hatcher in the superman weekly series and wish I was the one bound and gagged So one day when my family left for work and my sister went to the mall with her girlfriends I decided to play. I first grabbed some clothesline my mom had in the shed and went to my dad’s weight bench. After figuring out what I was going to do I got dressed. I put on one of my mom’s business suits, it was a little big on me but it served the purpose. The suit was gray with a sort of checkerboard stitching to it. The jacket has a zipper in the front and the skirt was supposed to be knee length. I looked for a pair of shoes that would go with it and settled for a pair of plain black pumps with 3 inch heels. Luckily me and my mom wore the same shoe size. Stumbling a little I made it to my room. I noticed all the men in my life had fantasies about women in suits so I felt that would be a good costume to wear. ...

The Game by XVX The Game By XVX Kelly’s head was pounding. That and where ever she was damm cold. Complicating matters was she was completely naked. She looked around. She stood in a white room with a molded white table and chair that looked like part of the floor. One end had a computer screen with one green and one red buttons under it. The other end had a series of red drawers. Twelve in all. Each drawer had a keypad. She remembered backpacking through Europe with her friend and stopping off at a little hostile/inn and then drinking too damm much beer. Her friend. Lynn was not in the room with her. Was she dead? No, she did not think so. Where was she? A mental ward? No, at least the would have given her something to wear. The screen beeped. She read what was on it. ...

It all started out with me having a totally rotten day, so I came up with this great idea I would go down and check out this new club that opened in my area, meaning the Philadelphia area. I called everyone to see if they wanted to go along but everyone was busy, so I decided I’d go anyway. I dressed up casual, but looked pretty good. When I arrived I walked in and glanced around for a moment and I noticed that there was a lot of women sitting by themselves, and judging by their looks they were in the mid twenty’s to thirty’s age group. After browsing I made my way to the bar and found a seat. I then ordered a Black Berry Brandy and 7up, which kicked off my start of a very interesting and erotic evening. ...

Dungeon Of Denial Chapter 1 - The Lamb by Dangermouse Dungeon Of Denial - Chapter 1 - The Lamb The morning began like so many others as Anne sipped her morning coffee and watched the throngs of students file through the cafeteria. It was a conglomeration of individual routines that had gone unchanged at the university for more years than could be remembered. Anne’s divorce had been rough, but she knew that going back to college and completing her degree would be just the ticket to get her life back on track. Financially it was hard, But Anne worked long hours and was adjusting nicely. Still there was a monotonous air to her life. School in the mornings, waitressing in the afternoons, gym in the evening. A hectic schedule to be sure, but worth the effort nonetheless. ...

(story continues from Ballet Bound) Part Two Page�s preparations began the nite before “our trip” with a series of injections, as I lay perfectly stretched on her evil black leather bondage table. Moaning through the swatches of cheap grey duct tape covering the bottom of my face as a series of super sharp needles were slowly inserted and withdrawn from my left hip, the black tights then rolled snugly back up my waist. On my stomach, limbs anchored by white clothesline rope to each corner of the table, a rather simple bondage arrangement . This was the first time for the needle. ...

OK. So I can remember the party. My best friends’ 30th and it was huge. All in total I think there were about 100 people attending, most of whom I knew. It was open bar, live music, and in a hotel, so my level of intoxication was not to be an issue. There were some new faces, one face I remember clearly (along with other of her attributes), a red head, about 5'5" and looking like a Victoria’s Secret model. She was dressed in tight blue jeans and a low cut top and seemed to be interested? Now, I am not the super stud, hunk of a man that would seem to be her type. I am about 6’, 200 lbs., and have that “boy next door” look, you know, the one who the parents always liked but she wanted something a little more “dangerous”. That’s not to say I don’t my dark side, the side that I apparently shared with this stranger, Aaron?. I think. Anyway, I remember talking to her at the bar and hitting it off. We talked for hours, or so it seemed. I know that we entered into some conversations relating to sex, and as I put down the beers, they became quite explicit. I shared with her my fascination with bondage, something that only an X would have known about me. She in turn shared some of her more risqué sex stories. She was obviously more versed than I in the subject and I found myself becoming aroused. ...

8 8 The Party’s Over by RopeBound OK. So I can remember the party. My best friends’ 30th and it was huge. All in total I think there were about 100 people attending, most of whom I knew. It was open bar, live music, and in a hotel, so my level of intoxication was not to be an issue. There were some new faces, one face I remember clearly (along with other of her attributes), a red head, about 5’5” and looking like a Victoria’s Secret model. She was dressed in tight blue jeans and a low cut top and seemed to be interested? Now, I am not the super stud, hunk of a man that would seem to be her type. I am about 6’, 200 lbs., and have that “boy next door” look, you know, the one who the parents always liked but she wanted something a little more “dangerous”. That’s not to say I don’t my dark side, the side that I apparently shared with this stranger, Aaron. I think. Anyway, I remember talking to her at the bar and hitting it off. We talked for hours, or so it seemed. I know that we entered into some conversations relating to sex, and as I put down the beers, they became quite explicit. I shared with her my fascination with bondage, something that only an X would have known about me. She in turn shared some of her more risqué sex stories. She was obviously more versed than I in the subject and I found myself becoming aroused. ...

8 8 Mine by kitn Yet another of Kats Creations The dim interior of the Den was relieved by only a single lamp on the table next to her Masters chair, his back to the door his leather chair creaking softly as he shifted his weight from one side to the other. Standing in the doorway holding a serving tray with his dinner, she begins to move with stealth. Silently approaching the master from behind, laying the tray on the table beside his chair. Praying that you were not heard as the lesson of silence both in voice and movement was one hard learned. Placing long slender fingers on the back of his neck rubs gently her forefingers reaching for his temples. The small bells attached to her nipple clamps jangle unexpectedly causing her to jump back in shock, realizing what she had done immediately resumes her position and task. ...

8 8 First Days Work at the Sex Shop by Gravip14 This story in purely fictional. No character in it relates to any real person. If you are disturbed by bondage please do not read on. Laura strode into her new place of work. A four-storey sex store, which claimed to supply all interests. She wore a tight, sleeveless, white top. Her nipples mounted on large breasts evidence that she wore no bra. Her black, leather skirt covering the top half of her thigh. Silver 5" heeled knee-high boots adding to her 5’ 7" slim figure. Blond hair hanging between her shoulder blades, bound in a pony-tale. Large blue eyes and full lips crowning her appearance. She moved with a confidence, which came from knowing every man here wanted her. ...

8 8 Nylon Bondage by softtights hi - would be great to see more tights related stories..so here’s one to get started with..all the best..softtights I was returning home from work one evening last autumn and followed my usual route, which once off the motorway wound for five miles through some narrow country lanes. In fact the road was so narrow in places that if you met anything coming the other way the only option was to use one of the few passing places that were there. ...

I cannot speak. The ring behind my teeth holds my jaws wide apart, its strap, tight around my head, pulling my lips back into a wide unmoving grin. I cannot see. Shaped latex covers are glued over my eyes revealing only a vague pink glow when I am in bright light. I cannot walk unaided. Thigh-length leather 9” heeled ballet boots are laced snugly over my smooth latex stockinged legs, allowing only a slight bend at the knees. Silver cuffs wrap around my ankles and clasp my legs above my knees, joining them together with 6” silver chains. ...

(story continues from One Kink At A Time) 8 8 One Kink At A Time Part Two by Tyjord One Kink At A Time Part 2 by Tyjord Once you are completely empty, I thoroughly clean you and then lead you, trembling, into my bedroom. Weak and humiliated from your enema ordeal, you sit on the bed and offer no resistance as I unlock your wrists, lie you down, and re-lock your hands above your head to the headboard. I go back to the bathroom and clean up, allowing you to rest. When I return, I bring the blindfold with me and place it on the nightstand. Still securely gagged, you look up at me in nervous anticipation of what is next. ...

Part Two The Volunteer written by rbd101 Ned awoke at the sound of a door opening. Panic seized him by the throat when he found that he could not open his eyes. He couldn’t even move. Even the yelled he made were muffled by an inflatable gag that filled his entire mouth. It was then that Ned slowly started to calm down and access the situation. He remembered yesterday. He remembered Dave and his mummification. He even remembered Steve and Jordan, another two unfortunate who fell into Dave’s trap. Light suddenly flooded into Ned’s eyes. With a muffled grunt, he squinted until his eyes grew accustomed to the bright light. A smiling face hovered over him. It was Dave. “Thirsty?” Dave asked. ...

8 8 The Nerd by Studbound The Nerd By Studbound In my junior year at the University, I lived in the dormitory and I had a roommate who was the archtypical nerd. Quang Nguyen, who went by Jimmy, was a senior in chemical engineering. He came from a wealthy family, drove a Lexus, and seemed to have anything he wanted. I always wondered why he lived in the dorms when he could easily afford a better place – a whole house if he wanted it. But Jimmy was an odd bird, and he explained once that his father insisted that he live in the dormitory so that he would be around other people. The old man apparently knew that the kid was socially awkward and wanted him to get used to dealing with others. ...

Bright Morning by jharlequin My name is Jessica and I am on my sixth day of vacation in this country, and I can only imagine it getting even more beautiful. I woke up in the bed and stretched. Today I wanted to go out shopping and I knew that my new pantsuit would be wonderful in the sunny weather. I bet I would impress all the guys that looked at me, and maybe I could even impress a few shopkeepers to give me discounts. ...

8 8 Kristen’s Story Ghosts of Kristen’s Past (Sequel to Kristen in Custody) By Zack Copyright© 2001, 2002. All rights reserved._ Kristen was in bed asleep when there was a knock on the door of her apartment. She still wasn’t quite awake when she opened the door and saw a uniformed deputy sheriff standing on her porch. The deputy said, “Kristen, I have a warrant for your arrest on a charge of attempted psychic murder.” ...

(story continues from Kristen & the Moot Court) 8 Kristen’s Story Kristen and the Moot Court by Zack Copyright© 2002. All rights reserved. Part Three Tien said, “I’m going to leave you now; I want to make your ID tag and the machine is really old and cranky. Don’t try to leave the stall.” “What’s this ID tag, that you need a machine to make it?” “It’s a stainless steel tag, like an army dog tag. Your name and prison number are punched into it. The machine was part of the old farm equipment; it was used to make ear tags for livestock.” Tien left the stall, closing and bolting the door. ...

Feedback is VERY welcome. Tell me what you think. This is fiction. Its just a fairy tale. A tale for adults who are openminded for topics like sex, s&m, rubber and feet fetishes. If you are offended by such things, DONT continue reading NOW. All others, enjoy and drop me a line. Background Before we begin our journey into to depths of the rubber country, let us have a look at it. The country is located on an remote island, unknown to the rest of the world. Immigrants are selected from many applicants from all over the world. They are medical screened and tested in their love for the latex fetish. Only those with a true desire for rubber are granted living in the country. Immigrants are selected trice as muny women as men. ...

(story continues from A Surprise for Marilyn) 8 8 A Surprise for Marilyn Part Two by Lord David http://www.lorddavid.btinternet.co.uk I open the door to the bedroom and look in cheerily as the morning sun rises “Morning Marilyn” I say, looking at her body still tightly bound on the bed, she grunted through her gag, she obviously didn’t get much sleep last night, if any, and if I was a nice guy, I’d untie her and let her stretch her arms and legs, but not only was I not that nice of a guy, I also didn’t want an angry Marilyn attacking me from the night before, so I thought it best she stayed in her current position, well for now at least. ...

8 8 Campus Demonstration by CJ 8 Sue was an activist who always stood for third world rights, fair trade, debt reduction, and the sharing of the world’s wealth with the poor people of the third world. She had participated in all the recent demonstrations around town, but after she was frustrated that most of the demonstrations received little or no coverage from the media. She felt the third world cause was being ignored and that bothered her. One day she was discussing this problem with two college buddies, Jim and Bob. Bob said that a whole new approach was needed to bring attention to the plight of the poor, something that would attract a crowd. The common demonstration never attracts people; in fact many try to avoid them. ...

8 8 Hike by CJ 8 Last summer I went for a hike with my girlfriend that I will never forget. The day started off quite normal. Jean wore shorts, a T-shirt and good walking shoes for the hike. As was normal for our day hikes I carried a small back pack with lunch and other essentials, but today I had a few other things that Jean was not aware of. Jean has never liked wearing a pack if she could avoid it and this day she could. ...

8 8 New Job by Jan Wright I had seen the job advertised and the money was fantastic. I went for the interview and got the job all they were interested in was did I like bondage, they explained they were a company that made bondage gear and they want a full time research assistant. My sole job was to test their bondage gear and for that they would pay me mega bucks. ...

My girl friend and I had gone mad on a shopping spree and spent loads of money which was our boy friends. When he found out he went mad and told me to get out of his house. I had no where else to go so I begged him not to throw me out. After a lot of begging he said I could stay but I must be punished for my crime. I didn’t know what he meant but agreed. ...

Mummification and Encasement Club Halloween Display by JSmith This story picks up at the end of the “Missed Meeting” Bob was released about an hour and a half after the meeting. This had been determined, by his mummifiers. Tim and Lisa had stayed to help in his recovery. Once he was free of the bandages, they helped massage some life, back into his stiff and sore body. The worst part occurred while he cleaned up in the shower. His pubic hair took a half hour to unsnarl. It was so full of dried cum. Lot’s of ouches as some hair pulling out was inevitable . As Bob was getting dressed, he thought about how he would set Becky up for a little payback. After Tom, Lisa and he talked amongst themselves for a while, a plan began to form. ...

Silence grew as the echoes of my scream died down; even the bloody scream had been feminine! I stood staring at the bathroom mirror, eyes wide, mout h hanging open. A stark naked drop-dead young blonde woman stared back at me. She was fucking incredible, she was big breasted, she was flat tummied, she was perfectly shaped. . .and she was me . . . I glanced down, not really knowing if I expected to see anything different. Perhaps it was a hallucination, and I’d see my usual naked male self, including slightly overweight belly. But I couldn’t see my belly, my tits were in the way. Oh my God. . . my TITS were in the way?! ...

Note: After I wrote A Star Is Born I received several emails from readers wanting Brian to get his just desserts after what he had inflicted on Sue. So here is a (very short) vignette of revenge. He really should have known that the women, once they had got to know the full story of Sue’s introduction into his fetish film business, wouldn’t just sit back and accept it. Revenge would be on their minds and he was naïve not to have anticipated this. And once you get four girls together planning revenge, then look out. Frankly after what he had put Sue through, even though she was in the throes of robbing him, he pretty well deserved what was coming to him. ...

(story continues from Adult Toy Store Adventures - Girlfriend in Leather) Go To - Adult Toy Store Adventures - Girl Friend in Leather

I have a friend Lisa who works in the transportation hospitality business in the Orlando area. Her job is to arrange transportation from Orlando International Airport to various hotels as people call in with their travel plans. As I had an opportunity to do some business travel in the Orlando area, I thought that I would unveil the opportunity to use her services and in the process see my friend. The business meeting was for first thing Monday morning and I arrived in Orlando late Friday evening. I planned my trip this way so that I could get over jet lag and to spend as much time as I could with my friend. She also knows that I am into BDSM as I’ve told her a long time ago. Obviously, you know something is going to happen because otherwise I would not be writing the story. I just didn’t expect it to be in this fashion. ...

You awake slowly, almost reluctant to give up the dark softness of sleep, knowing that disappointment awaits you. All your plans, all your dreams, have gone up in smoke, and reality is not something you want to face right now. Your cyber-lover, the man of your dreams, had promised to come over last night. For the first time, you were to see something of him other than his picture or words on your computer screen. You’d followed his instructions, bathing yourself thoroughly, eating a light meal, then settled down with a good book to await his arrival. ...

Brent looked around him with a sigh, wondering why he’d even bothered coming in here. Everything in the little shop looked musty and ancient. Shelves full of old bottles lined each aisle, their labels marked with mostly unreadable script. Intermingled with the bottles were boxes full of dried things Brent wasn’t sure he wanted to identify. Some magic shop this was! And what a waste of time. Shaking his head, Brent turned toward the door. ...

Brent looked around him with a sigh, wondering why he’d even bothered coming in here. Everything in the little shop looked musty and ancient. Shelves full of old bottles lined each aisle, their labels marked with mostly unreadable script. Intermingled with the bottles were boxes full of dried things Brent wasn’t sure he wanted to identify. Some magic shop this was! And what a waste of time. Shaking his head, Brent turned toward the door. ...

The van rolled slowly to a stop. I felt light-headed, seemingly not enough air. Excitement mingled with fear as I tried to move in my exquisite prison, a soundproof rectangular wooden chamber underneath the solidly built in seats of the dining area in the rear of the conversion van. Measuring twelve inches high, twenty inches wide and seventy-two inches long, it was a perfect fit. Tightly bound and heavily gagged, lying on my back, the top of my head and the bottom of my feet pressed against the ends, shoulders snug against the sides. On the outside panel, decorative gold vents at either end provided air, augmented by a small electric fan flush mounted to the right of my head. To anyone, it was a typical vacation vehicle, one of the many on the busy interstate. I tried to squirm but to no avail. Sealed perfectly in this coffin- like arrangement, an invisible captive. ...

(story continues from Batgirl vs the Professor 12: The Results) Part 13: Intruders Unable to control herself, another orgasm exposed over Batgirl, even as she heard the horrific news as to the fate of the Professor’s recent experiments. She cried into the gag as the erotic sensations flooded her body. When the orgasm subsided, the Professor continued. “As for the kittens, they are now on their way to the port of Gotham where a ship will be taking them on a nice long journey to the Middle East. I’m sure the crew will receive some special entertainment from their unique cargo as they make that long voyage.” ...

(story continues from Batgirl vs the Professor 4: Results) Part 5: Annie Goodbody Enough of self pity and selfishness. There ware more at stake here than one person. The Professor needed to be stopped, along with his sick ideas and inventions. It was Batgirl’s duty to prevent anyone else from being harmed (or worse) by the Professors gadgets and traps. Batgirl’s mission was to put him out of business, deprive the super criminals of their death traps and evil toys, and protect Gotham City from the dangers they imposed. ...

(story continues from Batgirl vs the Professor 6: In the Testing Center) Part 7: Plans and Flashbacks Morning started with Annie brining fresh food and drink and a new box. Dreading what might be in it, Batgirl ate her breakfast first. To her surprise a small folded piece of paper was below her muffin. Careful not to overreact to the note, she casually moved it to the side, then palmed it so the camera would not catch sight of it. She finished her meal and headed for the shower. There she read the small note, her body blocking the camera from seeing it. ...

As we walk into the bottom of a large, tower like building, Camille looks up, marvelling at the four windows at the top. I guide her up to a large belle dress, made of iron, and the skirt looks three feet too long. The back of the dress lays open, unhinged. She gulps as she looks at it and asks, “Is this dress for me?” “Yes, Camille.” I state, carefully removing her clothes. “But first, I need you to put your shoes on.” I add. She blushes and folds her arms over her chest. “Shoes?” she asks as I pull out a pair of iron shoes that weigh 15LBs each. “Heavy shoes! Why so heavy?” she continues. “You’ll see my dear, now step into these.” I state. As she steps into them, I bolt them shut. Knowing there is no need for a lock. She looks at me worried as I wheel over a crane with a trapeze bar hanging from it. She grabs onto the bar, I place some shackles around her wrists. “Those shackles are just for your safety, they’ll be off shortly.” I say. “Thank you, I was scared, and I don’t want to fall.” she says relaxing. I raise the crane as she can see into it, and sees a metal crotch strap with a pair of rods. She gulps and cries out my name as I position her over the opening. As I lower her into the dress she tries to step on the crotch strap to avoid it, I quickly take care of it by nudging her feet to either side. She squirms and pants as she is carefully impaled. “Don’t worry, there are no motors are electronics. Everything on this dress is solid iron.” I state. “‘kay…” she says, unsure what is going to happen as I bolt the back of the dress closed, pressing her breasts into the metal cups. She squirms in the cold dress, the shoes making it impossible to lift her legs. I position a large metal bar with an opening in the middle of it onto her waist. “What is this for?” she asks. “Just relax, you’ll see.” I say as I undo her hands, “You can let go now.” she drops her arms and feels around the outside of the dress. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” I say as I attach a large wheel that hangs from the ceiling high above to each side of the rod. She squeals as I use them to lift the dress up a few feet off the ground. “Why don’t you try kicking it to see how solid it is?” I goad She kicks hit hard trying to make it cave in, but ends up surprised as the dress reverberates, especially in the rods and breast cups. She quickly whimpers and stops. “Is something wrong, my dear?” I ask, knowing the answer. “It… the things… they…” she stammers. “Yes, it will happen every time the bell tolls.” “Jostly or move or whatever when do that… Everytime the bell tolls?” she says surprised. I nod. She looks around for the bell. “Now, we must raise you quickly, it is almost the half hour.” I say as I quickly raise her until she can see out across the country side. “What?” she asks as she looks all around and then down at me, hearing the mechanical sounds of a clock. The wheels on each side turn causing her to pivot steeply forward and back, her iron shod feet clanging against the sides of the dress. After a set of chimes it stops. “Ahh, such a lovely bell it is.” I state looking up at her as she flails her arms and cries out my name. I climb a set of stairs so I can see her close up, she holds out her arms to hug me, I climb up and give her a hug. “Imagine the joy you must feel at noon.” I say, as she drops her head thinking about it. ...

(story continues from Betrayal Chapter 3: Getting To Know You) Part Four Chapter Fifteen – Fooling Myself Just because I could get an orgasm from a woman didn’t make me a lesbian or even feel like one. My mind didn’t thrill to the idea of sex with another woman, even if my body felt something. Maybe that would be a good thing because it would hurt me less emotionally in the end to be used that way, but so far it hadn’t been good at all. Despite the gag and arm-binder I eventually fell into an exhausted sleep and once again was awakened by Sarah. She had a bundle of black rubber in one hand and a bottle of what looked like shampoo in the other. The bottle turned out to be sex lube. ...

The things you learn as you grow up can get you in big trouble later. I was the only girl in the family of three boys and when we fought we would hit each other sometimes hard, almost to the point of real damage to the other one. That’s how I grew up and when I got married the first time, that was the way I was, if something didn’t go just my way I would haul off and hit him as hard as I could, where ever I could. He would try to stop me, but never raised a hand to me back. Finally after one of our many fights, he just walked out and said he had had enough, two weeks later he filed for divorce and he never came back. That was two years ago now and I have dated others since then, but when I show my temper, the guys seem to disappear. ...

It was about 3 weeks before the wedding, but more importantly, 2 weeks before the bachelor party! I was hanging out with a group of friends at a local bar, including my best man, knocking back a few and discussing our plans for the event. Ben (the best man), was letting me know just enough about the party to make it enticing, but not give away everything. Surely the night would include some heavy drinking and scantily clad women, but what else, I was not privy to at this time. ...

Part One I was sat at in my office at my work desk, idly wasting time going through the vast amount of pointless corporate emails that are sent on a daily basis. About 90% of these have me automatically clicking on the ‘delete’ button. I figure if it’s that important then the sender will ensure that I receive the message. With one eye on the emails and the other at the clock counting down the minutes until I can close down the computer and go home. ...

I’m not sure which was the most humiliating part, cummimg as she smacked my balls, or being tied to the tree wearing tights (pantyhose). Let me explain. As a closet crossdresser with a love of bondage, I often put myself into these strange predicaments, but this time it had all gone wrong. It was a Wednesday morning, the wife is at work and I’ve got a day off. No sooner had she gone, had I changed into some barely black tights. Whilst I pondered what to wear next I logged on and surfed the net for inspiration. I got the idea to go outside, and saw a site on outdoor bondage. It was written by a guy fairly local to where I live, and it recommended some suitable locations. I knew a wooded area that he referred to, so that was my plan. ...

(story continues from Captured Escort 7)_ Part 8 I must have been chained to the floor sucking endless cocks for nearly 2 hours! All the time the people in the gallery watched, including my Mistress and Nina! Eventually the door unlocked and Bruno entered followed by a tall attractive blonde dressed in a very tight latex mini dress, around her waist was a belt with cuffs, a gag and a whip on it. She wore small metal collar and her dress had “Prefect” written in large white letters on the front. The girl pulled my head back and taking the ball gag from her belt quickly gagged me very tightly! My mouth was still full of cum and my chin dripped cold cum. Taking the cuffs from her belt she released my chained wrists only to cuff them tightly again behind my back. She released me from the floor and dragged me up by my arm. ...

(story continues from Captured Escort 8)_ Part 9 I had no idea how long i had been chained on my knees or how many cocks i had sucked! The huge dildo rammed up ass was now deeper than anything had gone before and was very painful! My poor breasts were still being tortured by the nasty clamps and throbbed horribly. All i could taste was cum, i must have swallowed gallons of it by now, it trickled down my chin and onto the floor where it pooled. I heard the door unlock and the sound of heels clicking on the floor, then my head was pulled back by my hair and thus tugging painfully on my nipple clamps and making me sit on the dildo. ...

Ilsa opened the door to the photo studio and walked in hoping that no one would notice she wasn’t supposed to be there that day. Her friend Carla was participating in a photo shoot that day as the centerfold model for a new adult men’s magazine Sexy Sluts. Carla had invited Ilsa to watch the shoot but to stay out of the way of the photographer as he might be a little .temperamental CRASHH!! A lighting fixture tumbled to the floor after Ilsa tripped on a loose wire running from it and fell to the ground herself. Ilsa looked up to see an enraged man heading for her waving his arms frantically. " Look at what you have done, you clumsy woman. That’s an expensive fixture you just destroyed through your clumsiness and it will take some time to get a replacement piece. Do you have anything to say for yourself, young lady ? " the mid 40’s man with a receding hairline snapped as he gestured angrily at the broken item. Ilsa looked at the angry man and a look of sorrow appeared on her face . " I’m sorry, it was an accident ! If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, I’ll be more than happy to do it. I don’t much in the way of money but if there’s any jobs or chores you need help with , I’d be more than happy to give you a hand with it." she said hoping to calm the man down. The man picked up the fixture and part of the glass fell to the ground and shattered into smaller pieces. " Young lady, a $ 5,000 dollar lighting fixture that has been destroyed is not replaced by simple menial labor. You see, it costs…" he started to state forcefully before being interrupted by the sound of another light crashing to the ground. This time, it was Carla looking crestfallen as she gazed down at the ruined equipment lying in front of her. " You…you…ARRRGHHH!!!…." snarled Jacques as he stormed over to the other ruined equipment in a great rage. After bending down for a second or two, he straightened up and jabbed a finger at Carla while inhaling deeply. However, after a second or two of uncomfortable silence, his face noticeably softened as he looked at both women with a slow and deliberate turn of his head. " I’ve decided that, for compensation, you two won’t have to pay for the equipment you’ve destroyed. Instead, I want you two to model for me free in a series of photos for a new adult magazine Lesbian Lust being published in Europe. It will require you both to travel for a bit after the shoot so please make the necessary arrangements before the shoot starts tomorrow." Jacques said with a far more pleasant tone than before. The two women looked at each other dumbfounded by the offer. The shoot would be the opportunity for both of them to command big money in the adult entertainment industry and the fact that Jacques, known for the amazing quality and color of his photos, would be the one filming them virtually guaranteed them lucrative offers to appear in XXX movies and other parts of the industry. Ilsa and Carla both quickly agreed to Jacques’ proposal and were given directions to the studio where Jacques would film the two for the magazine. They were told to meet him there in two days with the outfits he provided and to brings lots of passion. 48 hours later…… After 45 minutes into the shoot, both women were a little weary by the frantic pace in the posing and re-posing for Jacques’ rapid picture taking. They had started off wearing frilly lingerie which they took turns removing from their opposite at Jacques’ prompting before moving onto intimate probing and caressing each other’s body. After several minutes of letting their tongues and hands roam up and down each other while embracing, Jacques called for a five minute break while he retrieved a new camera for the final part of the shoot. The two women pulled themselves off the bed and stood up straight for a few seconds chatting among themselves with both noting how stiff they felt and how their skin seemed to be almost glistening from the sweat that was coating them both. " All right, ladies, I need you to pose in front of the chairs over here lying face up on the rug. " Jacques called out to the models. They both walked slowly over to the position Jacques indicated and assumed a sultry position looking up. FLASH!! " Now, I need you two to lift yourselves up with your legs spread wide and supporting your weight your elbows and feet. Do it now !! " Jacques commanded the women who felt compelled to follow his order to the letter. FLASH!! FLASH!! " Cup your breasts and hold your mouth open like the good dollies you soon will be ! " Jacques ordered while slightly adjusting the camera flash. FLASH!!!!!! FLASH!!!!! The women had just finished assuming the order and barely had time to register the significance of what Jacques had just said when they felt a change quickly envelop their rigid bodies. Ilsa could feel her skin quickly changing from warm flesh and blood to smooth plastic with no signs of freckles and blemishes visible anywhere. Her breasts grew rigid and became twin mounds of molded plastic capped by rubbery nipples. She could feel her pussy slightly open and assume the same O-shape that her mouth was now frozen in. ...

Jammison Peters was a mild-mannered man of average height, forty-five years old, muscular build who kept in shape and held an executive position with the Pembroke Corporation. Pembroke was one of the principal suppliers of heavy machine parts in North America and Europe with hopes of expanding more into Asia. A multi-billion dollar enterprise, it was successful because, as the CEO put it, “…parts wear out, and we replace them!” Jammison Peters oversaw a division that dealt with public relations, advertising, and he also put out the company’s weekly newsletter - “The Pembroke Voice.” ...

Louise drove quietly, following the instructions from the SatNav, the female voice directing her turn by turn. It was almost like submitting to the machine, she had thought when she first set off, which brought a smile to her face. In between getting her orders she wondered what the day might bring. Sally, her best friend, had been very secretive, saying only that she must come to a particular address by 10am and would experience something new and very special for the rest of the day. She had called it a “Damsel Day”. Louise was completely in the dark even now, and tried to imagine what was in store. Sally knew all about Louise’s preferences for bondage and had assisted her by severely binding and gagging on so many occasions. It could not just be another day or weekend all tied up as that would not be “new”. ...

My name is Debbie and I am lying here thinking back to when it all started, when I was 8 and my brother John was 9 we used to play cowboys and Indians and I always loved to be the Indian because John would tie me to trees or hog tie me and make me stay that way for awhile. Sometimes he would spreadeagle me and tie me to stakes he would then put down into the ground so the pretend ants would get me. I really got into playing that part . ...

A friend of mine was invited to a back yard camp out with several of her friends over five years ago, long before I knew her. The only way I found out about it was our candid talk of what turns us on, after several glasses of wine one night. I went first and confessed a love, or more accurately, a lust for restraint of any kind before or during sex, or just for solo play. I tried to express the feeling I get, sort of like my slut switch being turned on and thought I went too far and expected her to think I was some kind of freak! I think some people get it, but most won’t, and we need to be careful who we share with. ...

The motorcycle roared to life as the ignition was turned on and exhaust fumes spewed out its’ chrome exhaust. Sitting on it was a red haired woman who sat astride the cycle and reveled in the power between her legs. She ran her hands up and down the black leather seat and chrome handlebars. Lisa had been a fan of motorcycles in general since she was barely into her teens. She loved the freedom of traveling down the roads with the wind in her hair and not being trapped in a metal coffin being broiled alive by the summer sun. She had dated several guys while in high school but as soon she found out they were more interested in computers and making out than motorcycles, she dumped them in a heartbeat. Lisa longed for the day when she could own her own motorcycle. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a great paying job so she scrimped and saved looking forward to the day she could own her own. One day, she was glancing through the newspaper when she saw an ad for a car and motorcycle auction upcoming with a wide variety of makes and models available. Giddy with excitement over the thought of her dream coming true, she gathered together what money she had and headed down to the auction confident she’d be coming home with her cycle. It was with this in mind that had Lisa examining the wide selection of motorcycles that would be up for auction. She walked amongst the rows of bikes along with throngs of other prospective bidders looking for a cycle that she could afford that didn’t look too road weary. After roughly half an hour, she started to feel a little down about her chances in the looming auction. Between the opening prices listed and the talk of other prospective bidders of going extremely high on most models, she figured she had no chance of getting any of the bikes that were going up on auction. Lisa was about to head home disappointed when she saw a motorcycle sitting off by itself with very few people around it. Curious about the bike, she walked over to where the owner, a brown haired woman looking to be in her late 30’s, was standing. " Excuse me, ma’am, I was wondering if you could tell me a little more about your great looking Harley that you’re auctioning off, " she inquired while looking over the pristine conditioned cycle. The woman arched her eyebrows in obvious surprise " Well, it’s obvious you didn’t read the newspaper article concerning some of the bikes who have controversial histories associated with them. If you’re interested in this motorcycle, I’ll tell you about this one, " she said with slight disdain in her voice. " Controversial history ? ….did someone die while driving it ? …something like that? " inquired Lisa with a note of trepidation evident in her voice. " Not quite… you see, the previous owner was a woman who was a tenant in a building I owned. Originally from the Caribbean, she was a very unusual woman who was rumored to be a believer of black magic. She was dating a wealthy man from the suburbs who bought her a motorcycle for a present one day. The woman was deeply in love with the man and thought he felt the same for her until she came home late one night and found him in the arms of another woman. If that was not bad enough, she found the two on her motorcycle making passionate love. Enraged and vowing revenge, it’s rumored she placed a curse on the bike that any woman who engaged in intimate relations while on or in contact with it would be doomed to spend the rest of eternity experiencing intimacy and nothing else.. whatever that means, " the woman said with a serious look on her face. Lisa almost laughed out loud at the story she just heard but the look on the woman’s face made her keep her reaction to herself as the woman continued " Whether or not the story is true, all three disappeared without trace and leaving outstanding rent owed on the apartment. I obtained the motorcycle in lieu of the debt hoping to sell it and recoup some of the money. Unfortunately, the story behind the bike grew like wildfire and spooked away any potential buyers for it. I had thought that bringing the bike into an auction like this would bring activity from out of town bidders but apparently the tale has got around quite fast…" she said with a heavy sigh. Lisa digested the story while at the same time thinking up a way to take advantage of the situation. She dug a pen and piece of paper out of her purse and quickly scrawled something down before handing the paper to the bike’s owner. " I wonder if you might be willing to sell me this great cycle right now without going through the auction. Here’s what I consider to be a fair offer.. and it’s all in cash, " she said softly while handing the paper to the woman. The red haired woman looked at the paper and then stared up at the ceiling for a minute or two. She then looked at Lisa for several seconds before taking a pen of her own and jotting down a figure quickly. " Tell you what… if you can promise me that you can send the figure I’ve written down in the next 30 days plus the amount I’ve written down, I’ll let you have the bike right now, " the woman said pleasantly to Leslie as she returned the paper to her. Lisa opened the note and her eyes widened slightly when she saw the figure written down. " I’ll have to go into hock and borrow money from every friend I’ve got**…. BUT IT’S WORTH IT!**" she thought to herself before quickly nodding in agreement and handing the bike’s owner. An hour or so later, Lisa was at home polishing her new Harley and running her hands over the gleaming chrome and soft leather seat marveling at the pristine condition of the machine. However, she was a little troubled by the story she had heard about the supposed curse put on the bike. She wondered if it might be a good idea to test the validity of the story in some way so that she wouldn’t be bothered by it in the future. Looking at her watch, she realized that her boyfriend Dave, a doctor at the nearby hospital, was coming by in about an hour or so. " Hmmm… maybe I can get rid of that curse thing tonight. Dave has always been a bit of a kinky guy when it comes to sex…. it’ll be fun to see how he reacts…" Lisa thought to herself as she picked up her cell phone and dialed Dave’s number with a mischievous smile on her face. Several hours later…. Lisa leaned up against Dave’s body moaning and writhing after a frenzied love session between the two. They had come together several times in the last few hours like a well oiled machine in ways similar to the motorcycle the two were astride. Lisa nestled her head against her boyfriend’s chest while Dave held her in his arms caressing her hair, face and back in a soft and sensuous way. She ran her hands across his chest as she let herself float in the passion the two had unleashed while astride this powerful machine. Certain in her mind that any notion of a silly curse had been dispelled, she was about to ask Dave if he wanted to go to the bedroom for the night when she heard a familiar beeping coming from the heap of clothing lying on the floor Getting off the bike, Dave went to the heap nearby and picked up the beeper in the middle of it. Glancing at the display, he frowned and looked over at his girlfriend with remorse written on his face. " Sorry, honey, but we’ve had another patient admitted who was seriously wounded by a gang of wild beavers. Since I’m the only one trained to handle beaver wounds, I’ve got to go back to the hospital for a few hours, " the black haired man said as he walked over to Lisa and kissing her before quickly dressing and heading off to the hospital. Once her boyfriend had departed, Lisa got off the motorcycle and quickly redressed in her clothes though she discovered to some amusement that her panties had been torn to shreds in the sexual frenzy she and Dave were in when they rapidly disrobed. After dressing, the blonde beauty was going to head back into the house when she felt a wave of dizziness engulf her body. Lisa leaned up against her precious Harley for support until the discomfort had passed. To her puzzlement, the weakness was increasing accompanied by the return of the erotic pleasure she was feeling before with Dave. Her legs felt weird… like they were made of rubber or something. " Ooohh… I think me and Dave really outdid ourselves tonight. I better take a minute or… ohhh..two…" Lisa muttered softly as she wiped her forehead while continuing to lean on her motorcycle. The feelings of intense pleasure were gaining in strength rather subsiding along with a general feeling of lightness.. like she was floating on a cloud. " I better go inside for a bit and lie down for a bit… I feel really strange…. uhhh…" she thought to herself as she went to head back into her house for the night. However, to her shock, she found that she couldn’t move at all ! She tried to move her black shoed feet again and again but the only thing that happened was her feet tipped forward slightly and nothing more. Needless to say, her immobility was very distressing to Lisa, who figured her only hope was to yell for help despite her semi-nude state. Unfortunately, she could no more talk than she could move as she stood leaning against the black and silver motorcycle. Lisa’s eyes were the only part of her that still responded to her thinking and they bounced wildly around as she tried to figure out what was going on. When she focused on her body after a few minutes, she saw that the true nature of what had happened to her was becoming visible. She could see her skin slowly changing to an artificial look with a glossy shine to it and devoid of any signs of humanity. The fingers on both her hands were melting into solid pieces of plastic that still had enough grip to hold onto the Harley for grip. Her arms and legs seem to be waving slightly as if they were nothing more than hollow tubes of latex and vinyl with no skeletal structure inside them. " What the hell’s going on here..?… I ’m.. I’m starting to look like one of those dolls you can buy at a store.." Lisa thought as she found her breathing was becoming shallow and coming out in gasps as the change reached her torso. Strangely, despite the evil process her body was undergoing, she felt nothing but pleasure throughout her body. She closed her eyes briefly as she tried to focus on her predicament and blot the immense feelings of pleasure she was feeling. When she opened her eyes (or did the eyes open on their own…?), she found she was no longer breathing at all. She could see her breasts were now composed of the same material that the rest of her was with a slightly rounder and larger shape to them. She could feel them rubbing and pushing against the bra that constrained them and the sensations added to the lightness and pleasure she was feeling. Suddenly, Lisa realized with a start what exactly she was changing into and why she was feeling so odd. " A LOVE DOLL.. I’M BECOMING A DAMNED SEX DOLL… MADE FOR PLEASURE…. HOW ?.. WHY ?… THE CURSE!.. THIS MUST BE THE CURSE… NOOO!!… OHHHH… DON’T WANT TO BE A FUCKTOY.. A THING TO BE USED…" Lisa screamed mentally as she tried to cope with the truth of what was happening to her. Even as her mind tried to deal with her situation, the process swiftly moved upwards on her still form as it neared its’ end. Lisa felt her mouth stretch and twist on its’ own into an sensual O-shape with the interior now composed of soft rubber and latex devoid of her teeth and tongue. Her eyes locked into place staring outwards at the driveway that was so near yet so far away from her. Lisa’s cheeks started to glow a bright pink even as the rest of her face assumed the painted features of a very realistic love doll. The garage was silent save for the sound of rubber rubbing on leather as the doll’s body rubbed against the leather motorcycle seat. Approximately three hours after Lisa’s transformation into an inanimate sex toy, her boyfriend Dave returned from his work looking a little weary from the exertions of the night. He ambled up into the garage intending to give Lisa, who he saw on the motorcycle, a big kiss before heading off to bed. However, Dave stopped short when he realized it was a love doll leaning against the Harley and not Lisa. " Very funny, Lisa, har har.. you can come out now…" Dave yelled out as he looked around the garage for Lisa’s hiding place. Failing to find her or have her join him, the exhausted man walked over to the motorcycle and looked over the doll with great admiration. " I don’t know how she did it but the doll looks just like her. In fact, maybe I’ll play a little trick on her. I’ll take the doll with me to bed and watch her freak out, " David said with a chuckle as he picked up the doll and carried it off to the bedroom. " NO!!.. I’M NOT A DOLL… OHHH!!.. DON’T… YESS!!…. TOUCH ME AGAIN… YES…." Lisa thought as she felt her clothes being stripped off and her body being laid down on the bed. She felt David lay down beside her and put his wonderfully sensitive hands around her smooth form. Before long, he was groping and caressing the doll’s still body sending a steady torrent of pleasure racing through Lisa’s body. " Well, if this is part of the curse and I’m doomed to spend the rest of existence as a pleasure toy, there are worse fates than to be with a great and passionate lover…. ohhh!!!" Lisa thought as she reveled in the feelings that were going through her. Indeed, after David determined that Lisa had left him for some unknown reason with no forwarding address, she found herself being brought out of the box David kept her in fairly regularly… and she looked forward to each and every usage… And the motorcycle…? David sold it a few months after Lisa’s leaving town..to a woman who said she had never seen such a motorcycle before… back in her original country of Jamaica…… THE END

(story continues from Fast Lane Bondage) Part Two John’s parties were the best and most interesting I’d ever attended. The vibes were as good as they get, where the meeting of perfect strangers was concerned. People from all walks of life filled the tenth floor with a festive cacophony of base-touching conversation and newfound acquaintance. It was an honor to co-host, and a joy to witness, from the arrival of the first guest, to the last departure, which often lingered to first light. ...

Part One I had always wanted to go back to my old school. I went to an old English public school, which in real language meant private school, and for boys only. Unlike many kids I had a happy time there. I just wanted to walk the old dusty corridors and let the memories drift back. It was a big barn of a place with creaky floors and rattling windows set in some 10 acres. There was a playground and playing fields and a gym that doubled as a theatre occasionally. There were several dormitories on the upper floors, ranging from twelve beds down to three beds for the senior boys. On the main floor there were several classrooms, a sanatorium, kitchen and a large dining hall with huge oak tables. ...

Chapter 1: Kidnap With a exhale of cinder-reek, a tube train rumbled into Bond Street Station. The station-mistress, a hard-faced middle-aged brunette, didn’t even look up as she automatically noted its time (10:20pm) and the line (Jubilee) into her log. A couple of women dismounted and drifted down the various exit halls. The station-mistress yawned. There wouldn’t be another train until 10:42. She turned her attention back to her newspaper. The Japanese Crisis had been resolved, something to do with airships and ninjas and such. Now the captive Ambassador was home and the Empress was pining for her lost prisoner. Somehow the paper had gotten a picture snapped by the Imperial Photographer of Record, showing a grinning Empress Nabuki kneeling behind a hogtied Olivia Hammersmith, proudly displaying her work. Whether or not the ash-haired stateswoman was keeping a stiff upper lip was impossible to tell, but she was certainly keeping a stiff set of titties. ...

(story continues from Gai Shift - Pit 2: Miss Anna)_ Chapter 3: Adara Burke The silence of the Central London Precinct House hung like smoke in the early morning hours, as quiet as conspiracy, as pungent as corruption… Adara Burke shook her head in muffled frustration. Her editor at the Sun would not accept such hackneyed phasing. Still, it was hard to think clearly, suspended in isolation by her heels as she was. ...

(story continues from Gai Shift - Pit 7: Evaluation)_ Chapter 8: The Wash Room “I remember this place,” the wiry Sybil exclaimed as the four exited a side passage into a huge manni-era storm drain. Her dark eyes flashed. “I’ve been here before.” A wide rubber conveyor belt scrolled at hip-height along the center of the corridor like a black river, banked by two-foot high metal walls. While its purpose was unclear, its presence was ominous. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Angel 1: The Angel’s First Victim)_ To review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge To understand the Gai Shift, please read the previous story Gai-Shift prior to reading this one. Chapter 2: Captain Zana Hoffsteder Chief Officer Drummand paused before the shop windows of Harrods, wincing at the shill voices of the paper-girls. “London in grip of Biblical forces,” called one. " ‘Knightsbridge Angel’ claims another victim," cried another. Constance could only stand before the shop window, waiting for the dread of failure to pass. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Oasis Chapter 1: Kate out of the Frying Pan…)_ Chapter 2: Carin the Flower Vitch Somehow Kate sensed that this teleport had dropped her down inside the base of the tall-tower. Before she recovered a voice shrilled out, “Oh look, a newbie!” Instantly soft hands, feminine hands, countless in number yet firm in grip, pinned her down against a pillowy surfaces. There was a confused blur of flesh, all colors of skintones in various states of undress. A hand clamped over her mouth, more hands cupped her eyes, her limbs were pulled wide apart and someone giggled throatily in her ear. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Oasis Chapter 4: Miriam’s Whinery)_ Chapter 5: Ra’idah’s Delight *Whatever chance her students had had, they’d lost it. That first day, they hadn’t quite gotten the courage to jump their new schoolmistress. They’d been about to, so close, ropes in hand, eyes flashing with intent. But she’d whirled on them with her high boots and long tight skirt, her dark eyes flashing with wicked promise. Then she’d thrust her pointer at the ringleader and sizzle-quizzed her. When she’d failed (as the schoolmistress had known she would) a flicking pointer gestured to the corner stool, the dunce seat. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Out of Africa Chapter 8: Meeting the Natives)_ _To understand the Gai Shift & to review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge Chapter 9: A Thief in the Night with thanks to SkyHawk7x April 21, 199_I’m finally able to stop shaking enough to write. It’s early in the morning, 3am. I’m in the crew galley, Captain Barberis just turning away, our interview complete. Adara Burke, wrapped in a bathrobe, murmurs with the captain, confirming our debarking will still take place as planned. Kate glares at me as if I were at fault for what happened to Petunia. A cup of coffee steams at my rope-marked elbow._ ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Peregrine 1: Test & Capture)_ Chapter 2: Josie & the Foot Tease Executive Officer Petra, big and blonde and buff, had no problem dealing with little Van. Entering the small airship stateroom with the protesting engineer thrown over her shoulder, she spun her easily around and tossed her to the narrow bed. “Captain Hoffsteder said to show me to my room,” Van protested as she bounced like a quarter on the tightly tucked bedding. “Not to manhandle me like a sack of grain!” ...

To understand the Gai Shift & to review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge_ Chapter 1: Orders Doctor Livy Stone frowned from her seat aboard the steam omnibus, her tidy black dress cocked from her crossed leg, her severe boot bobbing in agitation. Her narrow face scowled as she considered the interview of the past hour and the jeopardy it had placed her in. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Reversal 2: Barbette)_ _To understand the Gai Shift & to review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge Chapter 3: Baroness Manchester’s Device Barbette stumbled along the darkened hall, her arms lassoed to her sides, the leads gripped by three apologetic maids. What protests she might have voiced were efficiently plugged by the bright red ball gag. The cotton slip that barely concealed her slender body had ridden up on the lowest coil, revealing her left buttock and exposing her heated mound. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Some Like it Knot 1: Manni Surprise)_ Chapter 2: Escape? Colette and Cindy, the two maids, wrapped each other in tight embraces and shared a good scream. The subject of their scream, Van (one a cocky little engineer girl, but now an engineer with a cock, complements of Sasha the vengeful sex-changing witch), winced. It didn’t help that the girls’ lusty distress was making his doggie sit up and beg. ...

To understand the Gai Shift & to review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge_ Chapter 1: Coming of the Norsewomen It was a London unrecognizable by our money-driven, computer-threaded, media-shouting world, a London divergent from ours by the amazing biological thunder-flash of 1922. In this London airships loiter from the Tower Bridge masts, steam omnibuses stutter about the streets and the skies clear of smog and the walls, graffiti. Its sidewalks team with women, some proudly strutting, some secured and meek (a role often changing weekly). Socially beneath them scuttle men (or mannis), belted and strapped and subservient, property of their mistresses. ...

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Thermocline Chapter 4: Release the Lancers)_ _To understand the Gai Shift & to review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge Chapter 5: A Fire on the Sea Van sighed as she sat on the Kraken’s curved hull, watching a huge slick of lubricating oil slowly drift away from the dock, slipping out of the pine-shrouded fjord for the open sea. ...

Contest Entry for the ‘Script your own Video’ Contest Jill was a little disappointed. When her friend Ellen had invited her over for some sunning in the backyard, she had thrown on her bikini and covered it up with a wrap and hurried right over. Imagine her surprise when Ellen greeted her in similar attire, but announced that she needed help in the garden before they could relax in the sun. ...

The names and places in this story have been changed, but the story line is true, based on events that have happen to me. Firstly a bit about me, I am average type male; enjoy sports, going out and general male activities. I am about 5’7” tall, blonde hair, blue eyes and average build. It started about 6 months ago; I was searching chat rooms for that special person. I meet her in a room called SWITCH LIFE. At first we just chatted about our past experiences. After a couple of weeks I was able to find out that she worked as a Green’s Keeper at the local golf club (It happen to be the one that I was a member of), so on the following Saturday I decided to go have a round, just to see if I could pick her out. ...

Kate could only blame one person for being alone on Christmas: herself. Sure, she’d been planning on dumping Luis all along, but not until after the holidays! She hated being alone and they had planned on spending Christmas Eve at a party together before opening presents at midnight. Then he had to go and pull that stupid stunt in front of all her co-workers. And that was the end of Kate and Luis. ...

“Of all the luck” she said, “stuck another night out of town due to American Airlines.” As luck would have it, the airline was having difficulty getting its planes to the right places due to weather, and now Sandra was stuck in her hotel for another night. Her boss immediately said, in a typically English manner, “Stiff upper lip, my dear, we will make the best of it. Go dress up a little, and we will go to dinner.” ...

(story continues from Indiscretion) Chapter 2 In her solitary misery, she didn’t hear the latch open. “What’s the matter luv? What’s wrong? Did you slip or something?” The voice was concerned. Carol looked up and caught the cellar man’s worried gaze, “I thought you were on holiday Ken, what are you doing here?” She forgot her distress for a moment. “Well luv, I’ll be seventy next month – I need to pack it in. I popped round to talk about it, then I heard the other bloke let you down this week – I thought you might need a bit of help.” Ken was a kind man. Mostly retired, he only did the odd day here and there. ...

Janice in Bondage by Pimpernel Janice in Bondage by Pimpernel Janice woke slowly from her drug induced stupor. As her mind slowly cleared she dimly remembered having chatted up an attractive dark haired man whom she recalled had called himself Mark. She had left the singles bar with him with the sole intention of screwing her brains out with this hunk of a guy…then her memories failed her. Still feeling the effects of whatever Mark had slipped into her Gin & Tonic, Janice opened her eyes but saw only blackness. She felt a silky smoothness over her eyes…a mask? She wondered. Then, as she attempted to shift her position, she realised that she was naked and her limbs restrained with unyielding cords, her hands behind her back. It was then that the terror struck her and all traces of her drowsiness evaporated. She tried to scream but achieved only a muffled noise since she was also gagged. ...

Part 1 Sabina padded along the open deck, staring out through the plexi-steel windows into space. Mistress had decided they needed to go visit some friends far away, and this space station made a nice stopping off point along the way. Her face felt a little warm still, Mistress had not picked Sabina an outfit that allowed much in the way of modesty. Along with the wide heavy latex collar, that marked Sabina as Jenka’s personal property, there was a tiny skirt. The pleated red plaid skirt barely covered her ass at all, and the gleaming white satin panties only seemed to make things worse. The tight satin seemed to catch the light and draw eyes every time her skirt moved. A tight latex armbinder encased her arms, its smooth surface reflected the warm lights. Keeping her arms helplessly pressed together and folded up behind her back. ...

(story continues from Kim’s Tail 1: Kim’s Introduction)_ Chapter 2: Honey’s Training Regime Although Kim had tried to use some of the drinking water to keep herself clean, her captors obviously felt she was getting a little grubby. The first that Kim knew about this however was when the buzzer sounded. As she had walked over to the food tray, which did not appear, her bedding and litter tray swivelled into their wall slots, leaving the room completely bare. The next instant, powerful jets of water erupted from small holes in the walls, drenching Kim in seconds. After a minute or two the jets stopped leaving Kim shocked and shivering with cold as the surplus water funnelled down the drain hole in the corner of the room. ...

(story continues from Kim’s Tail 2: Honey’s Training Regime)_ Chapter 3: Hazel Hazel stood beside the helicopter as the pilot unloaded her luggage. Turning around she addressed Mr Prentice. “This is quite a set up. How long can I stay here?” “As long as you wish Ms O’Keif. Mr Star did not specify a time limit, merely that you should have full use of the Island.” Hazel studied the man for a moment and was immediately taken by the notion that he looked remarkably like Penfold, from the children’s television program “Dangermouse”. Short, fat, balding, glasses and earnest expression. ...

As I walk down the street and turn a corner to take a shortcut through an alley that I’ve taken many times before I see a girl dressed like a harlequin. “Kitty!” She exclaims. “What? Kitty?” I look just as she puts on a gas mask and a green gas fills the air. I suddenly feel my vision blur, I got dizzy, my mind got cloudy, and things just faded away. She catches me as I fall. I come to I feel myself hanging from a hook by my wrists. I open my eyes only to find that I’ve been blindfolded. I feel her slide something over my feet. It’s feels sticky and gooey. “What is that?” I ask, not wanting to do anything rash. “Your new body.” she says as she drips something onto my member and begins to rub it in. “New body?” I ask, becoming a little bit aroused by the rubbing. “This glue keep your cock down in place.” she says as she pets me, “Be good kitty.” I struggle hearing that. She pulls something up my thighs, blows on my genitals to dry the glue faster. “I said be GOOD kitty!” she screams. I stop, scared. “Glue hard now, and keep you like that.” she says as I feel my member trapped in whatever is over my legs and waist. She pulls the suit up further and smooths it out. “What is this suit?” I say as each toe gets separated, and she smoothes it into my cheeks, sticking it in place. She giggles. “Silly kitty can’t see with blindfold.” she teases as the suit is pulled up around my chest, squeezing it tightly. She pulls on something making it even tighter. “After I adjust it, it will stay there forever, just gotta adjust it right first.” I squirm. “I said be good kitty!” she yells and smacks my butt. I jolt from the blow. “Sorry.” I say not wanting to anger her further. “Kitty be good now?” she asks, I just nod in reply. “Good kitty.” “Why do you keep saying kitty?” I ask. She doesn’t answer, just pulls the suit tighter. She cuts the ropes holding me up and I drop to the floor. “Kitty better promise to be good, or kitty gets it real bad this time.” “I’ll be good.” “Good kitty” she says as she unties my wrists and pushes my hands into some slimey sleeves. She then rubs over my groin. “Got to make sure the glue is sticking okay, and is skin tight.” she says as I whimper “If the glue doesn’t set right, bad things happen to kitties…” As she pulls the sleeves all the way up, my fingers finding their way into holes, she adds, “…kitties get punished if the glue doesn’t set right.” She smooths out the suit and pulls the neck collar up, “Is your new body, kitty.” “New body?” As she slathers goo all over my head, she says “Keep your eyes closed, kitty!” “…or baaaad things…” “Okay, I’ll be good.” She pulls off the blindfold and pulls a hood over my head. “Hold your breath.” she commands as I take a deep breath. She smooths the hole-less mask over my face. She pokes a couple nose holes. “Okay!” she says. I breathe out. “Now kitty breathe through new nose.” “Mmm?” I mumble, the hood tight over my head, holding my mouth closed “Hee hee, kitty caa-aaan’t taaaa-aaalk! kitty caaa-aaan’t taaaa-aaaaalk!” she teases as I mumble trying to say something. She pushes something into my ears. “These make you hear funny.” she says, as I hear the sound coming from all over. She laughs maniacally. “Kitty kitty kiiiiiiity!” she says as I try to make out where the sound is coming from. I feel her make a small slit on my lips, the rubber sticks to them. “Now kitty can drink through straw.” She sticks a straw into the hole, I instinctively suck on it, milk comes through and I drink it. “Milk for kitty!” she says happily, “Kitty on a liquid diet now.” I begin to feel woozy again, and start to wobble. “Kitty feeling woozy again? Was stuff in your milk?” she giggles, “It will make kitty feel like gas did.” “Eyes closed!” she says before she puts some small slits for my eyes, letting the rubber stick to the eyelids. She then puts the blindfold back on. “Now is my little black kitty.” she says as she attaches a collar and leash on me. She pulls on my tail. “C’mon kitty.” she says as I try to follow the leash. After a bit of crawling, as the milk made me too woozy to stand, I hear a door close. “Kitty not look.” she says as I try to follow the sound. She pulls on my tail again. “Kitty not look, understand?” I nod. At this time the glue is starting to itch. “Good kitty.” she says as she takes the blindfold off. “Now kitty can look around.” she says. I open my eyes and notice that I can’t see far away as the drugs make the surroundings a pastel blur. “Yes, kitty, this is your new room.” she says as I start to squirm and wriggle, the itching getting quite bad. She walks just out of my clear sight. “Awww, come over here kitty.” she directs. I crawl over. “Be good kitty and act like kitty and rub against my leg.” she tells me. As I do I feel relief from the itching. “Awww, good kitty…” she pets my head, I move my head enjoying the relief from the itching. “Hee hee, kitty like that?” she stops, I try to scratch myself but my hands are trapped in large, heavy, paws. I reluctantly nod. “Good kitty” she giggles. “Kitty want to get pet more?” I nod. ...

(story continues from Kristen & the Moot Court) 8 Kristen’s Story Kristen and the Moot Court by Zack Copyright© 2002. All rights reserved. Part Two Marlow pulled me to my feet and then pushed me down into the chair with my arms over the back. He took out handcuffs and closed one cuff through the padlock fastening my wrists together and pulled down on my arms until he could fasten the other cuff to a chair rung. I grunted as the top of the chair dug into my armpits. There was a leather strap attached to the chair seat and he buckled it around my hips. During all of this activity the chair hadn’t moved; it was bolted to the floor. ...

8 8 Kristen’s Story Kristen and the Moot Court by Zack Copyright© 2002. All rights reserved. Part One Here in northern Arizona it was midmorning on a bright Friday in May, but my mood was anything but bright. I was glooming around my apartment when the phone rang, and my voice reflected my depressed mood when I answered, “Hello, Kristen Useless speaking.” “Hi, Kristen, this is Joan. Judging from your greeting you haven’t found a job yet.” ...

8 Kristen’s Story Kristen In Custody (Sequel to ‘The Bilbo’) by Zack Copyright 2001. All rights reserved. “Joan, you must be crazy! I can’t possibly do that.” “Why not, Kristen? You like to run around outside naked and chained.” “Yes, but that’s in the summer. There’s snow on the ground now!” “But it’s melting. The air temperature is over 40. To somebody from Minnesota that’s shirt-sleeve weather.” “Yeah, but it’s not bare-assed naked weather.” ...

(story continues from Lillith’s Tails Part 1: Dawn of Lillith)_ Lillith’s Tails Part 2: The Rise of Lillith Eddie was late. Maria lounged by the pool keeping a watchful eye on the road for her wayward boyfriend. Eddie was always late it had become a standing joke between them and Maria often joked Eddie would miss his own funeral. “At last” She sighed as the huge iron gates swung open and his familiar black limousine swung into the long drive. ...

(story continues from Lillith’s Tails Part 3: Lillith’s Eve)_ Lillith’s Tails Part 4: Lillith’s Vengeance Eddie lay in bed relaxing, his latest secretary beside him. Natalie had worked for him less than three months and had been sleeping with him for two of them. He had picked her out of the secretarial pool entirely on her looks and had been surprised by her actual talent. An inch under six foot her height belied her Asian heritage she lay facing him her raven hair framing her face long dark lashes closed in sleep. ...

8 8 My College Experience by JayJaybound The story I am about to relate started about a year ago. I had just moved to the city to start going to college. I was living on campus, but had gotten a dorm room all to myself for some reason. I had started going for walks at night around 8:00 to relieve the tension from the day’s classes. The road that I walked on went around the gym, by the girls dorm, through the bookstore and back to the dorms where my room was. The girls dorm that the road went by housed the most beautiful girls on campus. All of them were either cheerleaders or else they were on the volleyball or swim team. ...

story continued from part one My College Experience 2 by Jayjay bound I showed up at the dorm at the time I was told to and rung the bell. Jess answered the door and without saying a word showed me inside. Just as I passed the door it slammed shut and 2 of the girls grabbed me by the arms. Knowing I didn’t have a choice I just stood there not doing anything. I then felt a needle stick into the side of my neck and the whole world went black. ...

(story continues from My Daughter & I Raise the Stakes)_ Part 6: My Daughter & I, Side by Side Emma has just started to struggle, and she is putting plenty of energy into her actions. But you have left it too late my love, way too late. You went proudly to your fate, and now you are going to pay the price. And unless I can think of something very soon, I am going to be following you. But you can be sure I won’t go as quietly as you have. Well, actually I might. The sheer kinkiness of where you have let them take you does rather appeal to me, and what a pair we would make. Mother and daughter, side by side. ...

(story continues from Part 20: How Anne’s Story Began As narrated)_ _Continues from part 20 My Odyssey As narrated by Anne-Marie Killamajiian, Wife of Ahmed, of the House of Mustaffa, the Diamond Merchant Warning: This story involves bondage, consensual sex, domination, coercion, sex changes, sexual slavery, rape, and other jiggery-pokery. It is entirely fictional, and is intended as entertainment for adults only. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or to any location or activity is purely coincidental. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. (As if anybody ever is!) ...

* This story is copyright to The Self Bound Latex Sub, and may not be reproduced either physically or electronically, or hosted on any other website, without the express permission of the author. Permission may be requested from [email protected]. My Predicament Chapter 3 Self Bound Latex Sub I wake up slowly, although I guess waking up is not the right term for it…for I definitely did not sleep, it was more that I passed out. However, as I came back to consciousness, I heard a key turning in the lock, and I wearily lifted my head to see in the mirror my new Mistress walk in the dungeon behind me. At any other time I think I would have been in seventh heaven at the sight of her, she was nothing short of stunning. She is wearing a Black Rubber Catsuit, with flame red panels down the length of the sides from her armpits to her feet. I can’t believe how tight the catsuit looks, almost as if it has been sprayed on her. On her feet is a pair of patent stilettos, with heels at least 5 inches tall. Around her waist is a flame red Rubber waist cincher, with three large shiny chrome buckles at the front. The catsuit ends at her wrists, and her long nails are painted the same flame red colour as her outfit. Her makeup also matches the outfit, with flame red lips and dark eyeshadow and eyelashes enhancing her Vampish look. However, the most amazing thing is her hair, which is normally a rich, silky black. This morning (is it morning? I have no idea of the time; morning is only an assumption!) however, it is a flaming red to match her outfit! ...

Different people look for different things when buying a house. Some people want good transport, but those good schools in the area but for me privacy is the most important thing. So when my wife and I saw this place with hedges around the property twice the size of me and trees and shrubs bucking the view of all windows from the road, we knew this was the place. Not long after we moved in disaster struck; I lost my job. With the credit crunch I suppose it was inevitable, my department was reorganized and there was no place for me or three others. We aren’t in too much trouble though. My wife is a freelance journalist and earns plenty enough to pay the mortgage and the bills. ...

(story continues from On French Soil 2 - With Hard-favor’d Rage) Disclaimer: This is a work of amatory fantasy. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading here. If you are a bit squeamish about graphic depiction’s of rape, bondage and sex, please stop reading here. The author takes no responsibility for those who wish to reenact anything written below. Permission is granted for private use. The author wishes any agencies that wish to publish this work, to please contact him at [email protected]. Any comments are gladly accepted and encouraged. ...

Disclaimer: This is a work of amatory fantasy. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading here. If you are a bit squeamish about graphic depiction’s of rape, bondage and sex, please stop reading here. The author takes no responsibility for those who wish to reenact anything written below. Permission is granted for private use. The author wishes any agencies that wish to publish this work, to please contact him at [email protected]. Any comments are gladly accepted and encouraged. ...

Disclaimer: This is a work of amatory fantasy. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. Many historical liberties have been taken in this work and apologies to those who notice them. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading here. If you are a bit squeamish about rape and graphic depictions of violence and sex, please stop reading here. The author takes no responsibility for those who wish to reenact anything written below. ...

8 8 One Kink At A Time Part One by Tyjord One Kink At A Time Part 1 by Tyjord It is late when you arrive at my home. Inviting you in, I notice you staring as I close the door behind you. It is apparent you approve of my choice of garments for this evening. Wearing only a studded black bikini top, matching crotchless panties, stockings with garters and three inch spiked heels, I walk in front of you, beckoning for you to follow. Lost in my beauty, you are speechless as we stop in the living room. I turn and kiss you deeply, my tongue exploring boldly. I stop suddenly and almost playfully push you away slightly. You flush with nervous excitement as I tell you to undress. Your hands begin to tremble, but encouraged by my gentle reassurance, you set about the task of stripping off your clothes. ...

Autumn turned around in her chair just in time to see all the girls coming toward her. With all the stress as of late, Autumn didn’t have time for a bunch of whining from the shop girls. All of them stopped in front of her, hands behind their back and big grins on their faces. “And what do you all think you are doing….we got work to mmfffff!!!” Alexandra was the first to act. The small asian girl was faster than anyone realized. She got behind Autumn and clamped a cloth over her mouth to muffle any noise. Autumn started to reach up to grab her long dark shiny hair. But Sandra wasn’t having none of that. She grabbed Autumn’s wrists and held them together. It was quite easy to hold Autumn’s slender wrists and the look Sandra gave Autumn from behind her sandy blond bangs was pure orneriness. “MMFFFF!!!!” Autumn started to kick her socked feet all around. Her denim shorts were tight and helped her start to slide off her chair. She kicked at Lisa with the left foot… that one got caught in mid strike. She flailed out the other at Ayva and that too got caught. Lisa laughed as their imposing redheaded boss now struggled helplessly in her workers grasp. “Ready ladies?” All of them nodded their heads and lifted Autumn off her chair and carried her to the next room. She groaned and strained in their grasp. ...

(story continues from Petgirl Trapped)_ Part Two “And what happened to you Autumn?” Nicole bent over and rest her hands on her knees. Her blond hair was tied up in a bouncy ponytail and fell off to the side, “Mmmmffff!!!!” Autumn grumbled and took her wrapped up “paws” and tried again to get the gag off and motioning for Nicole to let her free. Nicole giggled and patted Autumn on the head, only narrowly dodging a swipe from Autumn for the gesture. Flipping her ponytail back and kicking off her sandals, Nicole walked over to the work desk to snoop a little. Autumn watched in a little bit of envy at Nicole. At least she was wearing a snug pair of shorts and a tee while she was stuck like this. *Autumn’s cell phone goes off, playing a Backstreet Boys song* Nicole turned and looked at Autumn, “You still like that music. You are so lame girl.” The phone was on the desk by Nicole but it might as well have been on the moon. Autumn was not getting to it for help. Nicole sat down in Autumn’s chair… the chair no one else was to be in and crossed her legs and waited for the phone to stop. She picked it up and opened it. “Ah… you got a voice message.” Nicole pressed the button and placed it up to her ear. “My my… Master L has such a handsome sexy voice.” Nicole fluttered her eyes as if she was being swooned. “Mmmfff!!!!!” Autumn turned a new shade of red in her face and tugged against the leash holding her in place. Nicole shut the phone off and looked at the helpless petgirl. Autumn didn’t like the look on her face. She shifted her bound up legs so she would be sitting up..though this gave her a very submissive pet look. “Remember when I was last here and you had your fun with me? Remember the chains, gags, impossible heels, hoods… and all the teasing? Remember how you wished we had more time to play?” Autumn didn’t like where this was going. She pawed a few strands a hair away and shifted on her knees. The ruffles on her panties brushed against the bare part of her calves. Everything about her screamed helpless right now. Nicole spun out of the chair and walked up slowly to Autumn. She stopped just outside of the leashes reach and put her right hand on her hip. “Well hun…. your good and sexy husband just called to let you know that he had the chance to run off on a fishing trip with the boys and wanted to check in with you. Sadly he said that out on Lake Michigan there won’t be no signal so he won’t be checking in on you.” Autumn gulped into her gag at this revelation. She didn’t know what else to do and just sat there. Nicole must have approved of the situation because she walked out and into the storage room in a comfortable manner. Autumn fooled with the leash again… reaching toward the phone but it was just too far. The gag was locked… the binding around her bent legs were also locked. She had to be careful not to get too excited with this corset wrapped tight around her waist. Nicole sauntered back in with a bag, “Are we keeping busy? Whats this? Are we trying to get free again? Shame… bad Autumn… bad girl.” Autumn shot a look of pure venom over at the blond. Talking down to her like.. like… like a bad pet or something. She didn’t know what to expect from Nicole but knew it couldn’t be good. Every move she made over to her she saw. Nicole dropped the bag on the ground then quickly reached over and unhooked the chain keeping Autumn leashed to the door. “MMMFFF!!” Autumn tried to lunge out at Nicole. It was probably the best chance she had. Her legs were worthless but she could still reach out far with her arms, even if the hands her trapped in the bondage paws. All this was anticipated by Nicole though. She quickly got on Autumn’s side and grabbed one arm. Autumn couldn’t respond fast enough and got pushed onto her back. Nicole straddled over Autumn’s corseted waist and held each of Autumn’s wrists with her hands. Autumn bucked and fought as hard as she could, but her legs couldn’t extend and were basically worthless. She just kept grunting and wiggling wildly for a few seconds and started to slow. “Well… this is what it is like to be on top of you. Do you buck and thrash like this for your husband or just putting on a sexy show for me.” Nicole giggled and mocked Autumn. This just brought a new bout of thrashing and fighting from Autumn. But soon she was all used up. She was gasping for air through her nose, her chest was heaving up and down in the corset and having Nicole sitting on her belly didn’t help breathing either. Nicole twisted and forced Autumn onto her belly and quickly got back on top of her..sitting on her ruffled pantied butt. Nicole reached and grabbed the black bag. Autumn could hear the clink of metal inside it. In no time Nicole produced wrist and arm cuffs. It wasn’t too hard to force the cuffs on Autumn’s wrists or upper arms but she was not going to allow Nicole to lock them together. They would become just as useless to her as her legs were and would be reduced to walk on elbows and knees. Nicole sighed and raised up some and sat back down hard on Autumn’s tush… making Autumn grunt. “Now look her… you will allow me to lock those cuffs together.” Autumn shook her head as best she could considering the collar around her neck. Her wild red hair moved back and forth. Nicole grabbed the mass of red and pulled it back… making Autumn yipe in her gag, more out of surprise than pain. She still motioned no. “Oh Autumn Autumn Auutmn… such a tempermental redhead petgirl. It will be fun breaking you in. Now.. as.. I.. was.. saying…” Nicole yanked Autumn hair again with one hand. The other hand reached back and grabbed the soft, tender and very sensitive lower part of Autumn’s butt and pinched hard with her nails. Autumn reeled in the sharp pain and quickly pulled both arms back and allowed Nicole to lock them in place. Nicole patted Autumn on the head and rolled off her. Autumn got her bearings and rose up on her elbows and knees. She wiggled for a sec and the cold realization hit her hard. She was totally helpless. Nicole’s small bare feet stepped into her field of vision. The pink polish on her toe nails seemed to mock her. Autumn tried to lift her head up but between the angle she was forced to stand in and the collar… she couldn’t get no higher than Nicole’s waist. “This is much better I think. No more of that swiping at me.” Nicole moved down and reattached the leash to Autumn’s collar and started to tug at her to follow. Autumn resisted but only for a second. The collar didn’t feel good against her neck as Nicole pulled firmly. Very slowly, Autumn walked on her knees and elbows behind Nicole. After what seemed like an eternity, they both got to the supply room. There sat the cage that they had used for a photo shoot a year ago with. Autumn hesitated. “Oh… I guess you know whats coming. Well… your Mistress needs to freshen up and get a few training items ready for my precious little kitty.” Nicole bent over and gave a quick kiss on Autumn’s head and then pulled hard on the leash till Autumn obeyed and walked into the cage. Nicole shut the door and locked it. Autumn nudged the walls of the cage and they were quite solid. No way out. She reared back on her bound legs and finally got a better view of her confident new Mistress. Nicole stepped out and back into the other room. She soon returned with her sandals back on and with Autumn’s purse. She started to finger around till she produced some keys. “Hmmm… the keys to the Prowler. You don’t mind do you hun? I didn’t think so. Maybe when I get to your place I’ll check out your closet for something fun to wear. Well…. try to rest up. A few hours will go by fast.. for me at least. Buh-bye” Nicole exited the room and left Autumn by herself in the cage. Autumn swore she could hear her Prowler revving up outside and taking off. She struggled in her bonds, her cage.. even her gag but it was no use. What was she going to do and what evil did that bratty blond have in store for her? ...

Note from author: I warn you that you probably won’t get a lot of this if you have not read the rest of the plant series. Plant(ed) 5.01 – Expert I should say that by now I am an expert on the alien plants. That being said I am also an addict. You see I’m a soldier stationed in the village near the crater crash site. My assignment is the most boring I have ever had, in or out of the military. The entire village population had been forced to move into quarantine after the crash and to hold up the appearance that nothing was amiss in this town we had populated the entire area with military folk acting as village folk. Most of the military folk had experience with this or that and were useful in the research or confinement of the alien plant species popping up all over the area around the meteorite crash site. ...

Danielle and Ann had been best friends since high school. In fact in Senior high they had become more than that, they became lovers, and they still were to this day. They were not mutually exclusive however, they were both bi, lived their own lives and saw themselves as eventually getting married to guys and having kids but the relationship between them was something special. They were also quite bright and had done very well at high school and were now at uni. Danielle had won a scholarship with a major chemical company and was now in the forth and final year of her uni degree studying to be a biochemist. Ann had been accepted into medicine and was in her forth year of training to be a doctor. ...

Diana stared out the passenger window in barely concealed boredom as her boyfriend Wayne drove his Audi down the road leading into town and towards their destination: Ivan’s Inflatable Idiosyncrasies. The store was renowned throughout the world as the biggest supplier of inflatable items of all sizes, shapes and types. In fact, there was rumors that Ivan had items that were unavailable anywhere else and had prices that were just as exorbitant. For Diana, a professional internet poker player, that sounded like a fantastic thing when she and Wayne first met at a local club. The two had hit it off almost immediately and when they discovered they shared a mutual interest in things that could be inflated, their relationship intensified on several levels. From inflated chairs and other household items to sex toys ranging from blow-up dolls to more exotic items, the two indulged their fetish on an almost daily basis for the past nine months. However, in the past ten days or so, Diana had found her interest in inflatable items starting to wane quite noticeably. This growing disinterest coincided with her growing belief that Wayne was far more passionate when he was fucking a sex doll than when he was being intimate with her. “If it wasn’t for the fact that Wayne is the heir to a huge resort in the Canadian Rockies and is set for life, I’d dump his ass so fast that he’d need one of his inflation pumps just to take care of his deflated ego! Ha!” Diana thought to herself as the car turned to the right and headed into the area containing many of the town’s businesses. A short time later, with the Audi sitting in a nearby parking garage, Diana and Wayne walked down the bustling town sidewalks and quickly found themselves standing in front of the inflatable specialty shop. Entering the business, they saw that the store’s interior was much larger than the exterior led them to believe. There was two sets of stairs leading to a lower level in the middle of the main floor. Signs, painted in a wide array of colors, directed customers to different parts of the store that suited the individual’s interest(s). FURNITURE/HOUSEHOLD WARES was a section located to the front right of the store’s interior and seemed to be the quietest area currently. Seeing Wayne drift off to the electronic section and quickly focus his attention on what looked to be a computer keyboard made from some type of balloon substance, Diana figured that he’d probably wind up being shown everything in the department by a sales associate eager for a big commission. With a slight look of disdain evident on her face, the blonde haired woman made her way into the furniture section and started to wander through pausing every now and then to look at the odd inflated chair or couch. Fifteen minutes or so later, Diana had seen just about everything she wanted to look at in terms of inflatable things but she knew Wayne would be at least another 45 minutes or so. If boredom wasn’t enough of a problem for Diana, she felt a growing horniness welling within her and there was no way THAT would be quenched here. She decided she would head back outside to the car and amuse herself with the vibrator tucked away in her purse. Unfortunately for her, the nearest store exit was located in an area that would require her to walk directly in front of Wayne and that would lead to a conversation she wasn’t looking to be part of. Rubbing her hair thoughtfully, Diana glanced around the area she was in for a few seconds with her eyes focusing on an open door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. Walking over to the doorway quietly, she glanced around to make sure no one was looking a her before taking a peek inside. As she figured, the room appeared to be some sort of storage room with cardboard boxes of various sizes and shapes stacked on long metal shelves. She also saw to the right and was intrigued to see what looked like an inflated pink beanbag chair sitting by itself against a wall that was painted white. Staring at the chair for several seconds, a naughty idea started to form in Diana’s mind. She had been bugging Wayne on and off over the last few weeks to try making love in a public place such as a telephone booth or something similar. He had laughed off her suggestions as a weird joke on Diana’s part but her voyeuristic tendencies were genuine. Given that, her actions over the next few minutes weren’t surprising whatsoever. Glancing around once again to make sure she was alone and no one was looking her way, Diana quickly made her into the employee room and closed the door behind her. After locking the door, the blonde haired woman started to quickly remove her blouse and skirt as well as her high heel shoes. Putting her garments on a nearby shelf, Diana removed her jewelry and tucked the items into the same pile before making her way over to the inflated chair wearing nothing but ankle high socks. Sitting down on the edge of the chair, Diana reached into her see through inflatable purse and pulled out the reason for her nudity: an eggshell white vibrator with small black strips running up the smooth sides of the sex toy. With a mischievous look crossing her face, Diana put the top part of the vibrator into her mouth and wrapped her tongue around it as if the sex toy was an ice cream cone. After she figured a sufficient time had passed, she pulled the vibrator out of her mouth with a soft *pop*. As Diana turned on the vibrator at the lowest setting and she prepared to insert it into her waiting vagina, she noticed for the first time that there was an odd smell permeating around the surface of the chair. To her, it smelled like an exotic type of perfume mixed with a sweet Asian spice mixed in. In addition, she also noticed there seemed to be something odd pressing against her ass from the surface of the chair though she dismissed that as probably an inflation plug improperly secured in the furniture. “It’s not like I’m going to be buying this chair….. I’m just borrowing it for a little while…hehe……” Diana thought to herself before starting to rub the edges of her vagina with the tip of the vibrator. As she started to moan with pleasure, she brought the sex toy into her moist and dripping vagina while stroking her upper body with her free hand. When Diana turned up the intensity level of the vibrator as she prepared to plunge the sex toy deeper into her, she sensed that the plug underneath seemed to be wedging itself into her anus almost like a butt plug. With the smile on her face broadening, Diana cranked the vibrator to its highest setting and plunged it deep into her vagina. Almost instantly, Diana felt a pang of pure pleasure that rippled through her entire body. The walls of her vagina clenched tightly around the sex toy as she found herself building rapidly towards a tremendous orgasm. While this was happening, Diana sensed that the chair’s plug seemed to have some sort of liquid on it that was spreading onto her anus’s inner walls. Normally, she would have pulled herself off the chair for a second or so but she was experiencing so much pleasure that she just sat there and reveled in the moment. “Mmmmm…… ooohhh… feel so good…. oooohhh!!!…. what…. what’s that odd feeling?…. feels strange….” Diana thought to herself as she felt some sort of liquid start to accumulate on the walls of her anus that seemed to be adding to her sense of relaxation. She quickly decided to ignore the liquid and concentrate on the orgasm quickly rising in her body. As the seconds ticked by, Diana’s eyes fluttered and her breathing grew more ragged as she struggled to keep from screaming out loud. With her entire body starting to twitch in response, she failed to notice that there was a growing gloss around her rear and it was spreading in all directions. “Ooohhh!!!….Aaaahhhh!!!!!…..MMMMMMM!!!!!…..OOOOHHHH!!!!!……….. " Diana gasped with a voice that was louder than she wanted but she couldn’t help it. As she teetered on the brim of an orgasm, her right hand seemed to lose much of her strength and she was barely able to keep hold of the sex toy. In fact, all of Diana’s limbs seemed to be weakening and if she wasn’t enjoying herself so thoroughly, the blonde haired woman would have been worried by what was happening to her. " YESSSSS!!!!!………. " Diana cried out as the orgasm she was teetering on the verge of rippled through her body and sent waves of intense pleasure through her mind. The vibrator responsible for her pleasure slid out of her vagina and laid in her hand rather loosely. Diana was failing to notice not only this occurrence but the fact that her body wasn’t trembling as much as it should have. “Mmmmmm…. I’ve never felt this good before when I used my vibrator… I wonder if this store will give me a discount on this chair….. I…. I…. what’s going on?…… why can’t I move?… WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??!!!…. I CAN’T TALK EITHER….. mmmmm….. I feel good though…. THIS IS LIKE A DREAM AND NIGHTMARE AT THE SAME TIME!!!!…..” Diana thought to herself before she started to realize that there was something sinister happening to her body. Looking downwards with her eyes, she could see that her legs were starting to resemble two tubes of shiny latex with seams running up the sides of both of them. A star shaped tattoo on her right thigh that Diana had got to celebrate her high school graduation years ago disappeared right before her eyes as the bizarre changes swept over her motionless body. “What… what is…. I’M BEING TURNED INTO SOMETHING INFLATABLE LIKE THIS CHAIR… I…. I’M BECOMING A HOLLOW DOLLY… A FUCKING DOLL FOR SEX….. mmmmm…… sex…. that sounds like something really nice…. oooooohhhhh……” Diana pondered even as she saw with eyes growing hazy that the changes to her body had swept into her pelvic region. She mentally screamed as a wave of pure bliss washed over his conscious mind as her vagina started to twitch and contort as if it had a mind of its own. A moment or so later, the walls of her vagina clench tightly together before opening into an ovular opening with bright pink walls of latex lining the interior. Diana could sense that the interior was now nothing more than a latex and rubber sac that already ached to be filled. With eyes that were becoming harder to move by the second, Diana saw her finger nails were changing to bright red in color with a hollow feeling sweeping over her fingers similar to what she was feeling in her lower torso. As the transformation swept into her upper torso, Diana saw her breasts swell in size by at least two cup sizes even as they formed into two spheres of shiny latex . Bright pink nipples, each being an inch or so in length, appeared on each of her hollow boobs framed by idealized areolas. Even as this happened, Diana could feel her anus shifting and forming into an opening similar to her pussy (why was she thinking her vagina was her pussy?). “This can’t be happening… can’t be…. be…. be a good fuck toy……” Diana thought to herself as the transformation swept into her head and shoulders. She felt her teeth and tongue dissolve as the interior of her mouth changed into a smooth sac similar to her anus and pussy. The exterior of her mouth formed into a sensuous O framed by bright red lips that ached to be wrapped around a sex toy or cock. Her blonde hair became synthetic threads sewn into her head with the latter becoming hollow and full of air like the rest of her body. With her eyes becoming nothing more than painted features and her cheeks taking on a bright pink color, Diana’s transformation into a inflatable love doll was complete. “…..hadn’t thought about that. Maybe a line of inflatable cars that can be deflated and stored in a locker would solve parking problems in a big way. Anyway, let me find that chair I mentioned to you a few minutes ago. Where is that… oh…. oh my…. " the owner of Ivan’s said as he opened the door and he and Wayne walked into the store room. Almost immediately, the owner’s voice trailed off as he spotted the inflated pink chair and the realistic love doll sitting atop it. " What the..? What is…? Diana? Is that Diana? She’s a, umm, a love doll! " Wayne exclaimed as he spotted what looked to be his dollified girlfriend on the chair at the other end of the room. " Well, umm, lemme see. Here’s the purse of the woman that chose to sit on our experimental Woman to Inflatable chair. Is Diana Johnson the name of your female companion? " the owner said softly as he glanced at the ID within before handing it to Wayne. " Yes, umm, is she, uhhh, fully, ummm, transformed? Can she hear us at all? " Wayne muttered as he walked quietly over to the chair and removed the dildo from the doll’s right hand. To his surprise, the slight bit of pressure he exerted on the doll’s right arm and leg caused the arm to slide off its lap and jut up into the air in a L position. Simultaneously, the doll’s legs slid apart into a V shape with the hollow limbs straightening out in straight lines. " Unfortunately, I can’t answer that with any degree of certainty, sir. You see, the chair Diana used was a prototype that we had just received from a third party manufacturer last week. We were going to start testing it this week with volunteers that had signed up for the experience and document the results. Before you start get worked up about your friend, I have a bottle of antidote that, when applied to the doll’s surface, should reverse the transformation and leave the woman back to normal in thirty minutes or so, " the store owner said as he walked over to a nearby set of shelves and started rummaging through them for the item he mentioned. A minute or so later, Wayne was handed a plastic bottle containing a pale blue liquid with C.A. marked on it in big, black letters. " Use any cloth you see here and wipe a generous amount of this antidote over the doll’s surface. Fifteen or so minutes after application, the doll should revert back to its normal form. With that, you and your friend should be able to go with no problems at all. In fact, I’ll even give you all of your purchases free of charge. How does that sound to you? " the owner said a note of nervousness evident in his voice. Wayne continued to stare at his dollified girlfriend as he mentally pondered the owner’s words for several long seconds. As he stood there, a plan began to ferment in his mind that was helped by the growing tingling sensation in his groin as he gazed upon the doll. " I’ll tell you what, I accept your proposal but there is a few things I’d like to add to it. First, if it’s possible, I’d like to transform my girlfriend back to normal in my own home and not a room where a store employee can stumble into without warning. Second, I’ll actually pay for all my purchases if you give me the doll making chair free of charge along with a generous supply of the antidote that I’m holding. Diana, and a few of her female friends, might be interested in the transformation provided I can ensure them that the whole deal isn’t going to be permanent, " Wayne said as he rubbed his chin in a thoughtful manner. After a few moments of considering the counter proposal, the owner nodded in agreement. " As it happens, I happen to have a case of the antidote I received just today in preparation for selling the chair and similar items next week. I suppose I could give you three bottles of it on top of your purchases. Shall I have the staff find two large boxes for you chair and, umm, girlfriend? " the owner murmured as he moved over to another shelf and retrieved the bottles in question. " To be honest, I’d kinda like to leave as quietly as possible. Would it be possible for me to deflate these two, uhhh, items and take them out in smaller boxes? " Wayne said softly while glancing towards the store room door once again. " Oh, I can understand that. I’ll go and get the boxes you need right away while you get your, umm, purchases ready to go, " the owner intoned before quickly heading out the door and back into the main area of the store. " Mmmm, purchases, yes……” Wayne said as he reached behind the dollified Diana and pulled open her inflation valve. As the doll quickly lost shape, he draped it over his right forearm while he went to deflate the special chair that he was taking home. An odd smile appeared on his face as Wayne contemplated what he was planning to do in the future….. 10 days later………….. “…..say that you have the most inflatable items I’ve ever seen in one place before! Geez, this chair is just as comfortable as you said it would be though I don’t know why you insisted that it’s more comfortable when you sit on it without any clothes on. I think you just said that to get me naked, Wayne! " Patti called out as the redhead sat back on the inflated pink chair her date had insisted she try out. " Oh, I didn’t ask you to try it just to see you naked. You see, there are certain, oh, abilities that the chair has which I want you to experience first hand, " Wayne intoned as he walked into the living room and past a garbage can full of empty bottles marked C.A. " Abilties? What are you…. ooohhhhh…. " Patti started to reply with a quizzical voice before she felt the oddest sensation of something odd invading her anus. As the sight started to fade from her changing eyes, she swore saw a naked Wayne standing before her holding a blow-up doll in his arms. “Maybe someday I’ll use that antidote… for now, though, I think my inflatable collection is going to expand by quite a bit over the next little while….” Wayne thought to himself as he caressed the dollified Diana and waited for the chair to finish its business…. The business of change…… THE END

CityWolf IV: Sally’s Christmas Break Sally was high and horney. She had been smoking pot all day, waiting around, watching TV with nothing to do. She was a sophomore in college and it was Christmas break. Last year she had gone to Florida, but this year she did not have the money. She certainly did not want to go home so she thought that she would hang around campus. She did not realize just how dead it would be, however. Hardly anyone was around. ...

Anne looked around the living room and figured it was going to take her a couple of hours before everything was ready for her evening with Bill. She smiled to herself as she remembered how she had told him she was going out of town for a few days only to sneak back later to the home they shared. She busily cleaned the floor and dining table before heading into the bathroom for a quick shower. Emerging a short time later, she wandered around the living room area for a few minutes toweling herself off wondering to herself how she could really liven up the coming evening. She casually glanced through some fashion magazines looking for help in what she should wear that evening when she noticed a pile of her old college textbooks in a nearby corner. ...

(story continues from Spellbinder vs The Collector) 8 8 Spellbinder vs. the Collector Part 3 by Ranger with illustration by Don Paula McKenzie, ex-CIA and ex-navy-seal, floated listlessly in the inky black water on a moonless night, invisible to the naked eye. Now a private investigator hired by the Mayor of Central City to stop the Collector and recover the missing supermodels and Spellbinder. Paula, floating 200 yards out in Central Bay, pointed a sophisticated infrared scope at the private pier of exclusive import-export company of Blue Horizons, a company that specialize in cutting edge high tech and medical supplies. Paula’s contacts suspected the pier as the Collector’s hideout. A complicated array of microcomputers was mapping out the layout of the warehouse and proving her contacts right was several secret floors below the water level of the pier. Paula studied the layout, only one-way in and out and security looked tough. ...

Part 11 Candle light The pulse of the music thrummed through the floor of Club Abyss, the beat deep and slow like a steady, hungry heart. It was a Friday night and the air shimmered with heat and latex polish, every movement from the patrons radiating intensity. Lena and Mina stood near the bar, their forms clad in glistening black catsuits, the tight latex hugging every curve. They returned, of course they did. They were part of Abyss now. Their eyes gleaming with excitement as they watched the crowd, the stage, and Evelyn herself, moving like a dark queen through the sea of rubber and desire. The air buzzed with pulsing basslines and flickers of strobe light, casting silhouettes of masked dancers across the lacquered floor. Lena and Mina, draped in their latex catsuits, leaned against the bar sipping chilled cocktails, their breath still catching at the edges of the thrill that came with being recognized as full members. Patrons nodded knowingly to them, greeted them. They belonged. ...

Entry from the S(A)X Leather Bondage Story competition 2005 Catherine Parker is employed by a leading English newspaper, working as a journalist for special features. Based in London for the last few years she has come up through the ranks to become a valued member of her team, and regularly is given international assignments on behalf of the paper. She is 5 foot 4, 28 years old,38 D-21 -36, pretty with long blonde hair, always admired by her male fellow worker’s. but never romances in the office, nicknamed by many around the office as the pocket rocket. ...

Caroline was 41, 11 years older than me, recently divorced from her first and only love, and HOT. She was hot but also the type who didn’t have any self confidence – until recently. She always wore boots and skirts, and always caught me looking at them in the office. I’m pretty sure that’s how she trapped me…… Caroline always kept spare footwear under her desk in the office, usually 1 or 2 pairs of boots. Not sure why, but most women store stuff like that there. Being a self confessed boot fetishist I wanted to see them up close, smell them, maybe even try them on. Caroline wasn’t big, just curvy for 5 ft 7. One day she wore a shiny black patent knee boot with 6 inch heels, zip down the back and had a pointed toe. And she left them under her desk after work, so I decided to stay late and see what they were like. ...

Synthia: Part 1 Jay decided he would hit the club as it was Saturday night and he hadn’t anything better to do. He liked the music, dancing, and atmosphere of the Gee-Spot and tried to go as often as possible, though, he usually left depressed, lonely, and drunk. Jay hoped tonight would be different but he wasn’t willing to lay a wager on it. Jay was an OK looking gent that would never be known as a ‘Lady Killer’ without actually becoming a serial killer that preyed on women. He didn’t have the ‘Tall’ part down at the height of 5’ 7”; the ‘Dark’ eluded him due to the strawberry-blonde follicles which grew from every part of his body hair normally grew; and, the ‘Handsome’; well, only the girls that thought Ron Howard was hot would find him equally attractive, as, he could almost be his doppelgänger; only Jay was much younger and looked like the Ron Howard who played Richie and Happy Days. ...

Shelly was bored and hot. The Georgia evening was hot and sultry, hotter than any she could remember in her 26 years. She had worked all day and was tired but could not find relief from the heat and humidity enough to get to sleep. She turned off the TV and decided to go for a walk in the park that was about ½ mile from her house. She did this many times to relax and collect her thoughts after hectic days at the office, even though her Mother and Father warned her of the dangers of such activities. She figured that in this rural Georgian town the odds of anything bad happening were probably about as much as her winning the lottery and that had not happened either. Parents will be parents, but she was on her own and an adult. ...

Peter Meadows was a loner. He was rather small, ultra shy and had never had a girl friend. He never had many male friends come to that. He was now twenty three and was still a virgin. He had just started his holidays and was double checking his camping equipment. He carried this out with meticulous attention. He went out to his people carrier and opened up the tailgate. Hurrying backwards and forwards, he did not take long to fill the car up. He locked the house up, told his neighbours where he was off to and drove off. ...

Note: I have discussed with Geoff, many times, my fantasies about being taken against my will. He has likewise often offered to arrange this with some friends and every time I have willingly agreed. However this was some time ago and the reader should be aware that whilst I was a willing participant to what follows, I had also forgotten all about it… Roped in to Entertain My long time friend and lover Geoff was slouched on my cream leather sofa munching a rather messy looking take-away meal, whilst a can of beer perched on the arm of the sofa looked decidedly precariously balanced. The television was blaring loudly and Geoff was almost fully absorbed in the big match, of which live coverage had just started. I gazed at the scene without a word of disapproval. Not once did I lunge forwards to move the beer, sweep away the crumbs or reach for the remote control to quell the raucous cacophony. You may well wonder why I put up with this loutish behavior in my own home and what was the reason for this scene of domestic harmony. It was because I was thoroughly bound and gagged! ...

After weeks of trepidation, even fear, the moment, when it happened was so quick that by the time Anne realised what was happening it was over. The assailant came noiselessly from behind. She was aware of a slightly sweet smell from the rag over her nose and then sank into oblivion. When she came to all her senses bombarded her with complaints or new sensations. She could not see and there was something in her mouth preventing her from crying out but allowing her to breathe. He arms were forced behind her back, her legs folded back on themselves and apart. She could not move any of them. She could not even move her head. She realised that she must be naked. Without sight she was disorientated but she was sure that she was on her front, but apart from some bands of pressure she could feel air currents all around. She must be suspended somehow but how high? It could be a few inches or several feet; there was no way for her to be sure. She let out a plaintive mew that sounded pathetic, even to her. ...

(story continues from The Captive 2: Captivated) Part 3: Quelle Surprise “Let’s go to France,” David had said. “It will make a change.” Anne was unsure. She had hardly ever left her home town let alone the country. She just did not see the need. She had all she wanted where she was and since David had accepted her captive fantasies she had been seeing less, rather than more of the outside world. They had not repeated the full prisoner thing but she had spent many hours in the garage tied up and “tortured” in one way or another. She was happy with her life. Why change it? ...

(story continues from The Client)_ The Client 2 by Anne Woolsey Part Two After removing some of the more sensitive ropes, Julia produced a knife. Anne recoiled at the sight of the blade, but Julia calmed her by saying. “On, don’t worry! I’m just going to cut the ropes off. Much faster that way and there is plenty more rope in the car!” Soon Anne was only bound at the wrist and ankles, a pile of cut rope beside her. The numbness abated and she tried to stretch the stiffness out of her body. ...

(story continues from The Client Part 2)_ The Client 3 by Anne Woolsey Part Three Anne watched quietly as Julia began to unlace her boots. “I believe we are the same size, Anne dear. These boots will look stunning on you, although I would have liked a higher heel. A little unpractical out here, don’t you think?” Julia prattled on as if they were having lunch or something. Anne began to wonder about Julia’s sanity. Putting aside the fact that Julia had kidnapped and forcibly restrained Anne, she was certainly acting oddly; carrying on these one sided conversations and laughing at inappropriate spots during the conversation. A chill spread through Anne as she reassessed her earlier thinking that Julia wouldn’t really hurt her! ...

(story continues from The Client Part 3)_ The Client 4 by Anne Woolsey Part Four The trip from the project site to their destination took about 45 minutes. Anne lay quietly on the back seat under the blanket as the vehicle swayed and bounced down the woods road and then cruised smoothly over the paved highways. There was no further chatter from Julia. Apparently she was concentrating on driving and didn’t want to be distracted. ...

Lisa stood in the darkest corner she could find, looking across the alleyway at the factory doors shut tightly in front of her. It was an excellent job she had landed with the private investigation company she now worked for and she was very happy to get it. Her boss Mrs Bond had seemed very impressed with her even though she had limited experience of this line of work, only working in a local paper for a short year while studying for her degree. “Hardly a hot bed of intrigue and danger.” She thought at the time, but it looked like it was just the sort of thing her new employer was looking for. ...

Lisa stood in the darkest corner she could find, looking across the alleyway at the factory doors shut tightly in front of her. It was an excellent job she had landed with the private investigation company she now worked for and she was very happy to get it. Her boss Mrs Bond had seemed very impressed with her even though she had limited experience of this line of work, only working in a local paper for a short year while studying for her degree. “Hardly a hot bed of intrigue and danger.” She thought at the time, but it looked like it was just the sort of thing her new employer was looking for. ...

(story continues from The Investigative Reporter 4: Observations) Part 5: Escape Plan If nothing else, Beth thought at least the evil wife was consistent. The team was once again in the fields, but this time pulling the heavy disc through some of the less desirable fields of Grandview’s many holdings. It was hard work, and only reserved for the stronger teams, and by lunch time the girls were feeling the burn in their muscles. ...

If you are the author of this story please contact me [email protected] The Latex Dungeon Part One ***THE LATEX DUNGEON*** PART ONE Julie was a tall slender Woman about 5 and a half feet tall, she had slender shapely legs and a beautifully shaped body curved in all the right places. Julie was a normal woman of 33 years of age, she had the same thoughts and concerns that most women her age have, although the fact that it had been some time since she had a lover last was beginning to bother her some, not that she minded too much at night when she had come home from her job as a Photographer’s assistant, she would stretch out on her large luxurious bed, reach into the drawer of the night side table and pull out a six inch studded vibrator, “At least I won’t have to feed you breakfast in the morning.” she would joke before pleasuring herself with it and bringing her self to a sweet orgasm and then drifting off to a erotic dream filled sleep. ...

Jack was very angry at the machine’s refusal to give him the candy bar for which he had paid. He was swearing some particularly juicy phrases when a large puff of red smoke erupted next to him. Out of the swirling eddies stepped a man in a baggy suit. “You called?” the man said. “Who are you, some kind of magician?” “Some call me that, but no, I’m.. . .let me think. Who were you calling? Oh yes, I’m Satan.” ...

Cicely and Beatrice were two young women in their late twenties who worked in the inner city. Both were computer programmers in the Treasury Finance building which directly adjoined a national government currency depository. Though they had worked here for several years neither had ever been in this very secure inner sanctum right next to their workplace. Cicely was a tall slim, narrow waisted girl with an athletic figure. She had an oval face with a sharp chin, framed by straight brown hair in a neat page boy haircut. ...

She sat there, her legs crossed and hands planted firmly in her lap. To anyone casually observing her they might think her no different then any other woman dressed with a bit of pirate flair. Such dress wasn’t uncommon these days. Especially for those in her scene and of her demeanor. There was however a storm brewing. She knew well the maelstrom brewing inside her thoughts, what she did not know however was how deep into the pit she was about to descend. ...

(story continues from The Summer Project 9)_ Part 10 It was a struggle just to stand after the stranger had untied Stephanie’s armbinder from the strap holding her ankles together. The blonde felt as limp as an old rag doll, her strength zapped by the two orgasm she had just had in the past hour. She wobbled and swayed as she stood, feeling the leather straps being buckled again around her knees and thighs. Jeff’s stepsister made a most beautiful slave, even more so in the afterglow of her last cum. A long tangle of blonde hair spilled down over her blindfolded eyes and her ring-gagged mouth seemed to quiver in an erotic kiss. The white of her leather collar and armbinder seemed to gleam against her tanned skin. Her pale nipples were still stiff from pleasure. If there were one thing that did not fit the perfect picture, it would be the fact that she was not a true blonde. The soft curls of her nest were a light brown in color. However, that could be rectified. Steph felt her captor clip on the leather lead and give it a gentle tug. She hopped in that direction, concentrating on the task at hand rather than the two vibrators still buzzing away within her. “Did you enjoy that, slave?” the metallically twisted voice of her stepbrother asked. Stephanie flushed red with embarrassment as she nodded yes. It just murdered her to admit that the pleasures she had just had were the most intense of her young life. Everything she had been told said that rape was a horrible, painful thing that tore at one’s soul. However, Steph enjoyed what had just happened and that thought raced through her mind like a blender. Jeff continued to pull on her leash, moving slowly to the stairs. He noticed a pile of envelopes below the mail slot and made a mental note to look through them in the morning and pay any bills. His parents had left him with several signed checks to do this with as well as several thousand dollars to put into his checking for emergencies. However, he had more important things to look after. At the foot of the stairs, Jeff stopped and threw his blonde captive over his shoulder. Stephanie squealed in surprise and struggled a bit. “Stop squirming, slave, or I will drop you.” Stephanie stopped struggling. It was more to try to get comfortable than it was to escape knowing the later was impossible. His shoulder seemed to cut into her stomach as he climbed the stairs and Steph worried that he might loose his footing and they would both come crashing down the stairs. However, that did not happen and at the top of the flight, he swung her off his shoulder and helped her balance herself again in her restraints. Without a word, Jeff led his captive down the hallway to his parent’s bedroom, pausing to enjoy the way his stepsister looked. Her large, pale-nippled breasts jiggled with every little hop she took. He could feel himself harden again looking at her blindfolded form, but reminded himself that he had plenty of time to enjoy her. There were other things to take care of. Tugging on her leash, Jeff guided her into the bathroom and eased her onto the toilet. Stephanie felt the straps around her ankles and legs being undone. Apparently, it was another bathroom break. It was easier for her to go this second time and the stranger was just as careful cleaning her up with a warm washcloth. “You need to shower, slave,” the intruder said in his electronically distorted voice, “And I have to change your bindings.” The captive blonde listened, nodding slightly. “If you try to escape, slave, I will kill you quickly but I will also slowly torture your brother to death. Do you understand, slave?” Stephanie nodded. “As long as you please me, slave, everything will be okay. No permanent harm will come to you or him. Understand, slave?” Again, the captive girl nodded. She understood completely what the stranger had just said. As it was, Steph didn’t think she had the energy to try to fight or escape. She could try to summon some up, she supposed, but she knew deep down inside that she would fail and that would lead to something much worse for both her and her stepbrother. One of the things Jeff had gathered for the capture of his stepsister was a package of plastic zip-ties. He realized that these would be perfect for use in showering his slave since he did not want to ruin the leather armbinder or collar. The only thing that might be ruined was her black leather blindfold and Jeff couldn’t risk taking it off at this stage of Stephanie’s transformation. Perhaps he should look through his parent’s collection of bondage gear to see if they had something he could use. Stephanie let the stranger maneuver her into the shower. Her parents had just re-done their bathroom and the shower was one of those glass-enclosed full body showers. Steph loved it and occasionally snuck a shower in there while her parents were away. She also noticed that there were various hooks and eyebolts set around and she imagined that they were for hanging up and drying clothes or her mother’s various loofah sponges. I did not occur to her that they might have a far more kinkier purpose. Jeff, however, saw how useful they could be and planned on using the bolts to their utmost advantage. He hooked Stephanie’s leash to one of the bolts before going to his parent’s bondage armoire to see if her could find something a bit more waterproof to blindfold his stepsister with. The array of bondage gear was astounding. Jeff had not really looked through it carefully. Everything was neatly organized by function. There were gags and restraint straps and collars of all sorts. There was one drawer of various vibrators and dildos and other stimulators. In a drawer on the bottom, one that Jeff really hadn’t looked through, he found what he was searching for. The long drawer was filled with a variety of latex and rubber restraints and clothing. Amongst these was a variety of hoods and one in particular caught his eye. It was a white latex hood that covered all but the wearer’s mouth and buckled into place around the neck. There were air holes for breathing through the nose and a hole in back to pull a ponytail through. It was perfect. Taking it, he went back to his captive. “Slave,” the voice said, “I am going to take your gag out and then remove your blindfold. Keep your eyes shut or the last thing you will see is my knife slitting your throat. Do you understand, slave? Stephanie understood all too well and she nodded her head. “Good. Stand still slave.” The blonde girl was glad to be rid of her current gag. The steel ring that forced her jaws open was very uncomfortable and caused her to drool uncontrollably. The blindfold was next Stephanie was sorely tempted to open her eyes as the stranger peeled it off of her, but she did not. She had already felt what pain he could inflict and she was convinced that he might indeed kill her if she did not obey his wishes. Stephanie felt her hair being gently gathered together in a ponytail then threaded through something. She then felt something being pulled down over her head, not unlike a latex swimming cap. However, unlike a swimming cap, the stranger continued to roll the rubber down over her eyes and nose, eventually encapsulating her entire head. The latex mask ended just underneath her chin with a small opening for her mouth and a couple of small holes for breathing through her nose. Stephanie then felt something pull underneath her chin and tighten. The hood was now laced into place. “Open wide, slave,” the metallic voice ordered. The girl felt a rubber ball being forced between her teeth, not unlike the first gag she wore, though not quite as big. Jeff tightened the straps of the red ballgag and stepped back to admire his work. His stepsister was indeed a picture perfect slave. Speaking of which. . . The hood seemed to mute most of her senses. It sealed Stephanie’s eyes closed as well as ears. The latex smell filled her nose and the rubber-tasting gag only heightened the feeling that her whole head was encased. She hadn’t even realized that Jeff had left to get the camera and was setting it up. Jeff realized that the next part was the most dangerous and could unravel everything her had done. However, the white leather armbinder had to come off. Jeff gathered up the zip-ties and stepped in back of his captive stepsister. Stephanie felt the stranger unbuckling the various straps holding her arms in the single glove then slowly he began to slide it off. He stopped half way and encircled her arms with a thin strap just above her elbows. As the stranger tightened it, the strap bit into her skin a bit, causing her to gasp in pain. This did not stop the stranger as he put another strap below her elbows and tightened it as well. The captive continued to feel the armbinder being peeled off until it slid off her hands. Quickly, the stranger gathered her wrists together and pulled another thin strap around them, binding them together as well. Jeff was satisfied that there was no way for his stepsister to escape as she tried to move weakly against her new bindings. Hastily, Jeff undressed and stepped in beside Steph. A warm spray soon engulfed the blonde as she felt the stranger gently turned her around, making sure that nearly all of her was soaked. Again, she noted that his touches and grasps were that of a lover, not of a thug, and she felt a flutter of butterflies through her as his touch. It was quite unlike anything she had ever felt before. Soon she also felt the soft scour of a soapy loofah sponge scrubbing her legs and slowly working upward. The stranger paid attention to every bit of her, washing her and rinsing her. The warmth of her last orgasms had not gone away and she felt herself getting excited again at his touch, especially when he paid close attention to the soft patch of curls above her sex. “Spread your legs, slave.” Stephanie did so without a single thought. It was almost natural to obey him now. “Further.” The captive’s stance widened and she felt the stranger begin to soap her mons. Then she felt the slow graze of a razor being pulled through her nest. Stephanie felt both appalled and wanton as he continued to shave her pussy bald. Up to this point, she didn’t think she could feel any more naked than being tied and helpless under the eyes of this stranger. However, this man was bearing her even more and it caused her to blush. “Quit squirming, slave, or I will cut you.” Stephanie struggled to be still. The depilation did not take long and with a soft washcloth, the stranger wiped her mons clean. “You look beautiful, slave,” the stranger said in his distorted electric voice. The captive felt herself blush again. Men had called her many things, such as ‘sexy’ and ‘hot’, but this was the first time she had been told that she looked beautiful. Jeff turned the shower off and began to pat dry his hooded prisoner. As he rubbed the towel over her, she seemed to stand prouder. He shook his head. He must be imagining things. He buckled her white leather collar around her neck and clipped the leash to it again. He then led her out of the bathroom into his parent’s bedroom, sitting her down on their parent’s bed. Jeff was fully conscious that her bindings for sleeping had to be comfortable to his stepsister. There were white fleece-lined cuffs in their wardrobe and he had selected these for Steph for the night. The ankle cuffs went on first, locking them in place with a small lock. Raising the blonde from the bed, he did the same for her wrists after snipping the zip-tie that held her wrists together. Jeff then undid the other bindings above and below her elbows, causing a sigh of relief from his captive. “It’s time to sleep, slave,” Jeff said as he hooked her lead onto the headboard of the bed, “I will be with you shortly after I tend to a few things.” Even though she was exhausted, sleep was the last thing on Stephanie’s mind. The shower had left her with goose bumps and a need within her that she could not assuage being bound as she was. Perhaps when the stranger returned. . . ...

(story continues from The Summer Project Part 18)_ Part 19 With each forkful of the Denver omelet, Michelle kept hearing the word ‘punishment’ echoing through her head. This was the first time she had transgressed what was expected of her during her weekend stay. She vaguely remembered something about being punished for cumming without permission on the recording, but given what Stephanie’s tongue was doing at the time, it was hard to recall anything past her orgasm. ...

(story continues from The Summer Project 19)_ Part 20 Michelle concentrated upon the lesson at hand, listening to Jeff’s voice instruct her in how to obey when his riding crop touched certain places on her. As she listened, she realized that Jeff wouldn’t have to say a word; everything that was required of a slave could be signaled by the use of the crop. The Chinese girl also realized that the depth at which Jeff and his girlfriend Stephanie’s shared fantasy went and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to go there. The fantasy of being tied up and used by another and learning to become a slave to that person were two different things in her mind. ...

(story continues from The Summer Project 7)_ Part 8 When the vibrator started in her ass, Stephanie first reaction was to push it out of her. But the intruder’s promise of punishment overrode her natural repugnance to the device. Then the second vibrator started, humming and twisting in her pussy while the nub against her clit began to buzz. The combination of the two was overwhelming and as the blonde relaxed a bit more, she found that the new sensation in her rear helped stimulate the rest of her, causing her to moan little moans into her gag and to start to rock her hips. Briefly the captive blonde wondered what the intruder was doing. Stephanie strained to hear the stranger. She thought she heard him in the kitchen. He was probably on the phone there, but she couldn’t make out anything he said. The twin stimulations made it hard for her to focus and she could feel another orgasm beginning to brew inside her. Her moans grew a little more as she lay there, bound. “Dinner is on its way, slave,” Jeff’s electronically twisted voice said as he patted her on the head, “I hope you like Chinese. I figure we have about thirty minutes before the delivery boy arrives.” Jeff noticed that his captive stepsister was already starting to hump her hips. Her tan skin contrasted wonderfully with the white leather armbinder and collar and as she lay there, Jeff combed her long, blonde hair back so he could see her blindfolded and tape-gagged face. Hogtied as she was, Stephanie was going nowhere and the cold eye of the camera was going to catch it all. The girl felt the warm hands of the intruder as he eased her over onto her side. The stranger’s hand began to lightly trace over the curves of her body, drawing little circles over her thighs and flat of her stomach and between her breasts. The only place they did not touch was her nipples, still aching from the removed clothespins. Each touch stimulated her more, causing the pleasure inside of her to simmer just a bit more. “Do you enjoy this, slave?” the metallic voice asked. Stephanie nodded and mewled her agreement through her gag. His light touches continued over her body. Then Stephanie felt his lips kiss the bony part of her hip. It was a soft, tender kiss and he repeated it again across her belly. When he came to her navel, she squirmed a bit as his tongue reamed it, tickling her. In his lust, Jeff had almost forgotten just how ticklish certain parts of his stepsister could be. The intruder’s kisses trailed up from her stomach and between her breasts and around her collar. He brushed back her hair and began to nibble at her earlobe, something that drove her absolutely wild. The vibrators were doing their part, especially the one against her clit. The high pitched humming sent wave after wave of pure bliss through her, each one helping the orgasm lurking within her build. Her hips pumped upon the vibrator. As she did this, she bumped the back of the couch and accidentally pushed the anal vibrator deeper inside of her. It wasn’t painful. The feel of the two vibrators humming together inside of her seemed more and more erotic as she felt her pleasure grow. Stephanie would have never guessed just how pleasurable this would be. When she ordered her few toys online, she always quickly clicked over the butt plugs and anal stimulators. She thought how dirty they were and only a true slut would ever use one of those. . . Stephanie was now a true slut. The stranger seemed to know that she was about to cum and just needed a little more stimulation to put her over the brink. His rough tongue licked at one of her nipples, then the other one in turn. Stephanie moaned loudly through her gag. “You can not cum yet, slave.” Stephanie moaned her frustration. Ecstasy was just a touch or two away yet she could not give into it for fear of pain. Mentally, she tried to force the pending orgasm down deep inside of her, but the more she tried, the more she threatened to boil over into pure heaven. WHACK! Stephanie screamed into her gag at the pain as Jeff slapped her thigh. “Cum, slave, and you will endure more pain than you could possibly imagine.” Stephanie whimpered into her gag. She couldn’t stave off cumming forever. Sooner or later it would engulf her and there would be little she could do about it. Then the doorbell rang. The intruder stopped his attentions, “Dinner is here, slave, do not roll back over or you will be punished. You may cum, slave, but only while the delivery guy is inside the house. You will not be allowed to cum afterward, slave. Do you understand?” Stephanie nodded her head quickly, knowing her orgasm was close. “I am going to leave you then, slave, but keep in mind both the delivery guy and I can keep an eye on you on the TV.” The idea of being seen like this; naked, bound and gagged, mortified Stephanie. It also seemed to fan the flames of her growing desire to cum. Of the two, it looked like the later was going to overcome her embarrassment of the former. Jeff set down his voice distortion toy he had bought several hours ago and looked out the small window to make sure who it was. Standing there, in a tightly fitting red polo shirt and black slacks was a petite Asian girl holding Stephs and his dinner. It was even better than he had planned. Jeff opened the door, “Hi, come on in. I need to get the money from the kitchen. How much was it?” “It is twenty-two eleven,” she said as she stepped in. “Okay, I will be right back.” Jeff left the pretty delivery girl in the foyer. He glanced at the TV to make sure that she could see what was on the screen and not Stephanie herself. Pleased that it was so, he went off the kitchen to watch a bit. There was a place that he could watch the delivery girl without her seeing him. The girl stood there nervously, head bowed as if trying not to watch what was on the television. Occasionally, when Stephanie moaned, the oriental girl would shyly look up and watch what the bound blonde was doing on the big screen. Stephanie knew deep inside that the delivery person was her watching as the twin vibrator worked their magic on her libido. The very fact that she was exposed to a stranger’s eyes sent a forbidden wave of lust through her, churning her passion into a full cascade of pleasure. An orgasm engulfed her and caused her to writhe uncontrollably in her bindings, nearly screaming through her gag. Jeff came back with a handful of bills and handed them to the girl. “You can keep the change,” Jeff said, knowing he had given the girl a generous tip. “Thank you,” the girl nervously said, leaving fairly quickly. “Your welcome,” Jeff said as the girl made her way to her green Nissan idling at the curb. Jeff smiled as he watched her. The girl was very attractive and briefly he had fantasies about kidnapping her as well, but common sense made him think better of that. Better to focus his attentions on the one that needed it most. After getting his voice distorter, Jeff went over to his bound sister and gently combed her hair out of her face. “Did you cum, slave?” the stranger’s cold voice asked. Exhausted, Stephanie nodded. After holding back the orgasm for so long, when she did let go, it was like shaking up a bottle of Champaign and then popping the cork. The pure, raw rapture filled her very soul like nothing had ever done before. It had been her most powerful orgasm ever and it left her weak and warm all over. “That is a good slave. You have obeyed my wishes so you will get to dine with me tonight.” -oOo- Michelle had delivered food to a good many strange places, but this was one of her weirdest calls. She knew that the girl on the television was probably lying on the couch. Michelle could tell that just by the woman’s screams. No stereo system was that good. And there was the smell of sex in the air. No, she had been witness to some couples kinky fantasy. And, oddly, it made Michelle a little horny. She had had fantasies like that; unspoken fantasies of being bound and helpless and at another’s mercy. However, she did not trust anyone with those fantasies. They were too dark and she was afraid of scaring away her boyfriend. . . However, the image of that bound woman kept crawling back into her mind, making it hard to drive. “God, that woman has to be the luckiest woman alive,” Michelle said out loud. Michelle also noticed that she was getting wet at the thought of being in that woman’s place. It was a long drive back to the restaurant for the delivery girl, her thoughts constantly on what she saw and what she imagined what it would be like being tied herself that way. She even reached down into her panties and between her legs to try to relieve some of the tension. However, she was hornier than ever when she pulled into the parking lot. Michelle then decided to tell her boss that she was really feeling quite ill and needed to go home and rest. Besides, it was close to the end of her shift and Chuck was there to make any deliveries that may come up. It was hard for Michelle to lie about being sick, but she managed it and soon found herself racing back to her apartment and ultimately to her bedroom. It did not take the Asian girl too long to undress and hop into her bed armed with one of her vibrators. As Michelle’s toy hummed and she started to pinch at one of her nipples, she began to imagine what it would be like to be bound in that woman’s place, unable to do anything but enjoy that man’s caresses and touches; Being made to cum again and again and again and not being able to do anything about it. The first hot waves of pleasure began to churn inside of Michelle as she caressed herself and soon, the waves crashed over her and she was in the throes of a powerful orgasm. Slowly, the joy ebbed away but did not really disappear. The image of the woman kept on surfacing and it gave rise to another orgasmic tide. Finally, after about an hour of constant stimulation, the batteries in her toy began to wan and she had exhausted herself. ‘God, I wish I could be that woman’, she thought to herself. Then she thought to herself that she could. Michelle had a delightfully sinful thought. Maybe they could invite her into their games. Just the mere thought of it sent warm ripples of lust through her. Naked, she got up and went over to her computer and began to type a letter. After she finished it, she put it in an envelope and scribbled on it ‘I Saw What You Did Last Night.’ She hurriedly got dressed again and got the envelope. Michelle knew she had to do it now or she would chicken out. She would drive to the house and quietly slip the letter into their mail slot. Then Michelle would wait for their reply. ...

(story continues from The Summer Project 8)_ Part 9 Stephanie was weak with the afterglow of her last orgasm. Her whole body felt wrung out with pleasure and she did not think she could endure any more. Yet, the vibrators were still buzzing insider her and she was helpless to stop them. “Are you ready to eat, Slave?” the metallic voice asked. Weakly, the blonde nodded yes. Steph hadn’t realized how hungry she really was. Stephanie felt a tug upon her collar, “Come, Slave.” The tied woman wriggled up into a sitting position with difficulty. Not only was she tired from the many orgasm that had torn through her in the last couple hours, but also she was also very tightly bound. Her arms were encased in a white-leather armbinder, which matched her collar, and three black leather belts encircled her legs and ankles. A black leather blindfold and several strips of tape over her mouth completed bindings. To her captor, Stephanie was turning into everything that he dreamed of and more. With another tug on her lead, Jeff pulled his stepsister up off the couch and to a teetering stance. Stephanie, with her legs bound together and weak from her exertions, was finding it difficult to balance. The only support the blonde girl had was the tension the stranger kept on her leash. “If you want your meal,” the metallic voice droned, “you had better hop to it, Slave.” With that, Stephanie felt a yank on her chain. Unsteadily, the bound girl took her first hop. It was one thing to jump when you are able to see but quiet another task to do it blindfolded. The only sense of direction she had was where the intruder was pulling her. After a few hops, she got a bit steadier. Soon, she felt the cool wood floor of the dinning room underneath her. Gently, the stranger guided her before one of the dinning room chairs and eased her down until she was kneeling on the floor in front of it. Next, the man began unbuckling the straps holding her knees and thighs together, but not the one binding her ankles. The twin vibrators were still humming within her, whispering their magic to her very soul as he took the straps away. Last, he lashed her ankles to the end of her armbinder, putting her into a genuflect hogtie. “If you loose your buzzing friends, slave, you will find out how much pain you can endure,” the metallic voice threatened. The captive blonde woman heard the stranger leave as she knelt there in her bindings. She could smell the spicy aromas of the Chinese dinner that had just been delivered and the pangs of hunger blossomed inside of her. For Stephanie, the whirl of smells and the erotic stirrings within her were an odd but potent blend and she found that she was rocking her hips again, embracing the pulsing vibrator within her. Jeff noticed that his bound stepsister was thrusting her hips again as she knelt there bound. He watched her there silently as her moans through her gag began to get louder. Despite his warnings, his captive was trying to cum again. Stephanie screamed into her gag as the intruder viciously pinched both of nipples, sending a wave of pain through her and nearly causing her to fall over. “I did NOT give you permission to cum!” The electronically twisted voice spat at her. The blonde girl sobbed as he released her nipples. She really hadn’t realized that she was indeed trying to encourage another orgasm. However, the vibrators were continuing their lascivious conjuring within her and she could feel the first roiling of an orgasm building within her despite the fresh pain in her nipples and the stern warning of her captor. “Do you want me to hurt you?” the voice asked. Stephanie shook her head no. “Then do not disobey me, slave. Do you understand?” The bound blonde nodded. “Next time, slave, it will be much more painful.” Stephanie nodded again, crying. Her mind was a typhoon of feelings and emotions and thoughts, but foremost was that she did not want to experience any more pain from this man. “Now, slave, I am going to remove your gag so that you can eat and drink. Any noise that comes out of your mouth will be punishable by extreme pain. I will gag you and throw you into the cellar and I will whip you until you fall unconscious on the cold, cement floor. I will not feed you again for 24 hours and you will wallow in your own piss and shit. Do you understand, slave?” The bound girl nodded. Jeff carefully removed the tape gag from his captive’s mouth. It stung a bit as it pulled away from her lips, but it wasn’t as bad as she had expected. Jeff then pulled out the soaked foam ball from her mouth, setting it on the table. Stephanie worked her jaws a bit. “Spread you legs, slave,” the stranger commanded. The blond girl did as she was told to the limits of her restraints. Stephanie could feel the stranger’s eyes savoring her every curve and shadow and the thought sent little erotic pulses through her despite what she was being forced to do. The minutes seemed like lifetimes as she waited for the stranger to do something. Stephanie felt his fingers gently brush through her pubis, touching off a wave of unbidden pleasure. “Do you want to cum, slave?” Stephanie moaned and nodded her head. “Do you want to eat?” the stranger’s metallic voice asked. Again, the bound blonde girl nodded. “You cannot have both, slave,” the voice continued, “Whether you eat or come is your choice. If you want to eat, open your mouth wide. If you want to come, thrust your pussy into my hand.” The strangers light tickling through her nest and the ministrations of the vibrators made the choice harder then it should have been. Stephanie felt her passions rising to surface, giving hints of ecstasy to come. In the end, however, she opened up her mouth. “Good slave,” Jeff patted her on her head as he sat in the chair in front of her. The dinner was a feast of orange chicken, shrimp in garlic sauce and sweet and sour pork. The intruder fed Stephanie expertly with his chopsticks, feeding her a piece at a time and allowing her to sip her herbal tea. Several times a bit of the warm sauce would dribble onto Stephanie’s chest and she felt the man bend down over her and slowly lick it off. More than once the captive woman thought about how romantic this would be if it weren’t for the fact that she was being forced against her will into being this man’s sex slave. Throughout the dinner, the twin vibrators continued to work their magic with the blonde and a slow rising pool of ardor swirled through her. Another orgasm was not far off and the intruder seemed to sense this. Caressing a nipple here and tracing her labia there, his sprinkled his touches in while he fed her, stoking her fires. “Are you ready for dessert, slave,” the intruder’s masked voice asked. Slowly, Steph nodded yes. The captive heard her captor get up and step around in back of her, stroking back her long, golden hair. “Open wide, slave,” he commanded. Stephanie did as she was told and felt a leather and steel ring being shoved behind her teeth. Two leather straps cut into the girl’s cheeks as the man buckled the gag tightly behind her head. The device was uncomfortable and Steph moaned her displeasure as it forced her mouth open. “I thought you would like something warm and creamy,” Jeff said, stepping before the kneeling girl and unzipping his jeans. Steph had never given a blowjob before because the thought of putting a guy’s cock in her mouth disgusted her. She baulked as the stranger grabbed both sides of her head and thrust his dick through the center of the ring. The member was larger than she had thought, filling her mouth and ramming down part of her throat. The blonde captive gagged. His flesh had a salty taste to it she noticed as it withdrew a bit. Steph squirmed in her bonds as the stranger slowly pumped. “Suck my cock, slave,” Jeff ordered her, “make me cum.” Again, Steph moaned her displeasure but there was little she could do. She knew how much pain this man could inflict and had. So, like trying to eat Brussel sprouts as a kid, she thought of more pleasing things as she sealed her lips around the man’s cock. The captive tried concentrated on the erotic feelings welling up inside her, slowly threatening to engulf her. “Use your tongue, slave,” the voice spoke. As Jeff withdrew, she began to lick his shaft before he shoved it back in. Stephanie tried to imagine his dick as a warm Popsicle and adjusted her virgin technique accordingly, slurping and sucking; hearing the low groans of her captor. Jeff began to speed up, feeling his cum broiling up within him. He looked down at his step-sister’s face as he fucked her, her blonde hair now in disarray over her blindfolded eyes. Faster and faster he rocked her head until he could hold it back no longer and shot hot jism into Stephanie’s mouth. The man’s cum was salty and a little waxy tasting and Stephanie tried not to think about what it was as she continued her servicing of the man and swallowing his seed. “That’s it, slave, lick me clean.” The man’s cock was no long as rigid as it had been as Steph did as she was ordered to. It did not take it long to shrink away to where she could do much else. She felt him step back and pat her on the head. “Good slave,” he said, “Now do not cum until I command. I will be back to take care of your needs.” The bliss that had been building with Stephanie had not diminished. Tied as she was, there was very little she could do save for enjoying the hum of the phalluses in both her pussy and rectum. There was nothing to grind against or force the vibrator in deeper. She knew the table leg was close but she also knew the pinch of the man’s clothespins. After using the restroom, Jeff returned to his stepsister, swaying and moaning as she knelt on the dining room floor. “Would you like to cum, slave?” Jeff asked. “AHHHHH-HAAHHHH,” Stephanie practically yelled into her gag. Jeff smiled. “Show me how much you want to cum, slave.” The blonde began writhing in her bonds, thrusting herself towards the voice. The orgasm that was building within her was just a few touches away but she knew she couldn’t achieve it herself. She needed and lusted for the release it would give her. The stranger’s warm fingers began to gently pinch her stiffened nipples, sending bolts of pure pleasure through her. His fingers then traced down the flat of her stomach and through her soft nest. She felt him grasp the end of the vibrator. “Do not cum yet.” Stephanie moaned her frustration. The waves of pleasure were crashing at her gates and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold back. The stranger shoved the buzzing dildo all the way inside her. “Cum, slave.” Crashing waves of bliss consumed her as she squirmed and threw herself against her bindings so violently the stranger had to grab a hold of her or she would have fell to the kitchen floor. Wave after erotic wave swallowed her as she bucked until it ebbed away, leaving the girl completely drained and limp. “I think it is time to get you to bed, slave,” the voice said, kneeling down to unfasten her hogtie. To Be Continued. . . Since it is usually a long space of time between postings and re-postings of this story, I am compiling a mailing list so that you can receive chapters as they are produced. If you would like to be on that list, please e-mail me at [email protected]. Any and all comments are welcomed and appreciated. ...

So, yeah, it’s kind of a weird thing to do! I know that and I guess its part of the attraction! I also fully understand that there are risks involved. I take steps to minimize them. I am very careful about which assignments I take and I am very thorough in my investigations of my clients. I have the time, money and access to be thorough. I only work for women. That alone doesn’t keep me safe. There are some scary females out there, but the odds are better if testosterone-fueled violence is eliminated from the picture. ...

(story continues from The Victim 4: Turnabout 2)_ Foreword: I must confess to mishandling these story parts and sending them to Gromet out of order. It has been suggested that I be punished for this transgression, perhaps hogtied and…well left to the whims of any readers I may have. I can only offer my profound apologies for the screw up and any continuity problems and hope for forgiveness from the users of this wonderful site. ...

Part 1 Hannah Reynolds had worked for Tanaka since leaving university. Her combined honours degree in business and Japanese had served to start her on the career ladder with the large Japanese conglomerate. She had been interested in the East since she was a little girl, getting her first taste of oriental culture from television shows like Monkey or the Water Margin. Classic Japanese films like Godzilla had been very entertaining. You knew that it was a man in a suit stomping all over a model city, but she was prepared to believe the illusion for the sake of entertainment. Then, while at college she had discovered Manga and she had re-considered everything that she knew about the Japanese. She had joked that the most evil organisations on the planet seemed to be Japanese Multi Corporations. All of these had, by definition, a weapon’s or experimental science division. They would all have a dangerous experimental gizmo that they would leave around for their children to find and play with, or more usually, somebody else’s children. They would then cause havoc, ultimately destroying Tokyo. It was only then that the companies’ large and suspiciously primed construction division would leap into action. Rebuilding Tokyo seemed to be a very profitable and popular national pastime in all Japanese fiction. ...

8 8 Tied at work by Jan Wright I have a very important job at a very large firm, I am 28 year old my figure is 38-24-36. I had been friendly with a man called Dave at work and he had talked to me about bondage. It had just crept into the conversation one day and I found my self-fascinated by it. He had explained all the ideas he had on bondage and I must say the ideas turned me on. We work at a large site in its own ground set in beautiful country. It was a summer’s day and very hot when he suggested lunch to which I agreed. We decided to go for a walk in the woods, as it was such a nice day, he said he new a secret spot near the lake. ...

Here I was thinking I was hot stuff. I’d turned 18. I was a senior. I had been accepted to college. There was one month of school left and hell, I was sailing through my final classes. I was invincible. I was eating lunch with my friend when a glob of pudding landed in front of me. Raucous laughter erupted from the other end of the table. I saw one of my classmates still holding the spoon used to catapult it at me. ...

Well I’m off to the Carnival that came into town everybody is talking about. I arrive and get a bunch of tickets to ride all the rides even double if I want. As I pay for the tickets the ticket person looks at me up and down and smiles a little, I don’t know why, as she hands me the tickets and asks for my wrist. I stick my arm through the window and she places this pink armband on me. I ask what it is for and she tells me since I bought so many tickets I get too ride the “Real Ride” at the back of the park which opens 5 minutes before the rest of the rides close. I thought wow cool a free ride. ...

(story continues from Trip to the Carnival)_ Part Two Here I lay in a crib sucking away on a cock gag that is giving me food. I gaze at my body and it frightens me how much I look like a freaky plastic doll. I can’t believe this stuff goes on or stuff like this plastic skin even exists. What makes me even more scared is the fact that there are auctions to purchase people like me turned into one of these dolls. ...

(story continues from Trip to the Carnival 2)_ Part Three I’m here laying down on a wooden horse starring at a monitor of a line of people ready to give my doll ass a fuck test. Suzie came in to sit and watch and record my reactions to my ass fucking. A microphone is put in front of me so the bidders outside can hear my screams, moans & heavy breathing from my enjoyment or torment. ...

(story continues from Trip to the Carnival 3)_ Part Four After a week of pure punishment, I don’t know how I will be able to make it once I am finally sold tomorrow. If the punishments, or teachings as my captors would rather call it, are anything I can expect by the winning bidder, I hope I die fast as that would not be a life to live at all. Being my last night before my final day up on the auction block, I am allowed to relax without anything inserted. I am also naked, with clear view of my fake privates that has sealed my cock away. I have lost feeling down there as well, I can no longer feel the pain I did when I my life first began as this sex doll. I wonder was it other drugs I was given, or natural body reaction. ...

Part 1: The Accident It was my freshman year in High School; my 15th winter when my life and survival became someone else’s concern. Through no planning of my own, though because of my own carelessness I imagine, I lost my ability to decide things for myself. When I eat, and sleep, and even when I go to the bathroom is all at the whim of my keeper. It really isn’t such a horrible existence, but it can be trying and humiliating at times, and it is then when I wish it all would end. But it can’t, so fate has decided. So I go on, day after day, doing as I am told… evermore… ...

Friday night can mean different things to different people. For some, it’s the end of the work week, a chance to get away from the job for a while. For others, the beginning of the weekend means a chance to party, to see and be seen, or simply a chance to relax. In the James home, Friday night meant an argument. Always. “Why not?” Brad James sighed. It was the same thing every week. Jenny wanted to go clubbing with her friends, and Brad always said no. And always for the same reason. ...

Chapter one: “The Web” How on Earth had this happened? Cindy wondered. To be stuck literally like a bug in this huge spiders web! She struggled against the sticky web to no avail. The more she struggled, the more filaments from the web entangled her arms and legs. She couldn’t move, she was just not getting anywhere! The web strands were actually soft on her skin, but they were as strong as steel. They were coated with a sticky glue substance that once touched by anything would not let go. No amount of struggle or pulling would find release. ...

“This was a terrible idea.” Susan thought to herself as she walked back to the motel room on the 10th floor. She thought that a 2nd honeymoon in Mexico would be the perfect solution. Her husband had agreed but was now down in the casino, drunk and flirting with everyone without a penis. “Things will change” she thought and wished. As she walked out of the shower, clad in only her robe, she noticed the bag of garbage that she had asked her husband to throw away. She grabbed the bag and walked outside to the large chute that leads to the dumpster. She opened the door to the chute and released the bag. In a moment of anxiety, she saw that her cell phone was following the bag of garbage down the chute. “Shit” was all she could say. ...