The Mayor's Daughter: Draft Pony Page 6

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

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

  “Oh, but I can and I am, princess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Three…”

  She stepped forward instantly as he began to count, wobbling at the sudden movement, but keeping her balance. She winced as the rope bit into her flesh once more. Walking along the rope, she tested the bonds that held her hands up behind her again, knowing that there would be no escape, but seeking to focus on something besides the continuing attack of the rope. Tugging on the locks that held her mittens to the harness, she could feel the straps on her chest around her breasts dig deeper into her skin.

  The morning became a blur of pain and exertion for Jessica as she struggled to make her way around the rope circle. As she got better at maneuvering in the boots, the rope itself became less torturous since she didn’t need to press so hard against it. It was still a constant presence, however, sliding along her aching flesh. As she progressed, the knots remained her greatest enemy, the tension of the rope driving them into her and attacking her clit. She trembled visibly at the approach of them, and struggled to get past them as quickly as possible.

  Each pole was like an oasis, a tranquil island of peace in the turbulent sea that was the rope circle. She paused as long as her captor would allow at each one, relishing the soothing cool of the metal and slight rest for her legs. In time, she grew bolder, waiting until he reached ‘two’ on the dreaded countdown before thrusting herself forward. As she continued her journey, Jessica’s legs began to tremble from the exertion. She gradually began to stumble more often as the strength of her legs started to give out, forcing her to once again press against the rope for support.

  Jessica’s whole body seemed to cry out simultaneously, exhausted and ready to collapse. She felt thin, not with regard to weight, but in a more metaphysical sense; stretched thin and close to her breaking point. She knew that she desperately needed sleep and she was hungry and thirsty, too. Her lower body ached from this cruel torture, and she felt the need to pee starting to build in her bladder. All of it together made her want to give in, to collapse into sleep on the spot, but the fear of another touch of the cattle prod kept her inching forward slowly.

  “Stop,” he ordered, and she winced as she stopped with one of the knots wedged inside her.

  Panting, she pressed her trembling thighs together and leaned reluctantly into the rope and knot for support.

  Chapter Five

  Hard Labor

  “It’s time for your test, Princess,” her captor spoke from somewhere behind her, out of her field of vision. “Before you take it, though, you should know what is at stake. If you are clear-headed enough to understand me, stomp your left hoof once.”

  With great effort, leaning more into the rope with a strangled whine, Jessica stomped her left foot and then waited. She felt her captor’s hand on her shoulder, standing close behind her now. Drawing her back against him, he placed a hand on her right breast and began to fondle it gently.

  “Good girl,” he whispered in her ear. “From now on, when I ask you a question, one stomp will mean ‘yes’, and two will mean ‘no.’ Understood?”

  Face red with humiliation and anger, but willing to bare it if it meant getting through this ordeal, Jessica stomped her foot once again.

  “This stable breeds two types of ponies, Princess,” he continued, absently twisting her nipple between thumb and forefinger. “And it’s up to you which type of pony you will become.”

  On the verge of more tears, brought on by the casual way he groped her body and the way he talked about making her a pony, Jessica forced herself to remain calm. The constant restraint was already getting to her, and it hadn’t even been a day yet. She couldn’t imagine what sort of condition she would be in by the time her father made good on the ransom demands. He couldn’t really plan to keep her bound like this for days, could he?

  “The first, less talented ponies, are suitable for hard labor.” His hand wandered down to her belly, leaving her breast at last to play with the rings on her harness. “Since they’re not as valuable, they get food and shelter that are appropriate for their worth. Do you want to see where such ponies live?”

  Panting hard through her nose, Jes
sica stomped her foot twice.

  “No matter,” he chuckled, lifting her off the rope to her great relief and setting her back down on the floor. “I want to show you anyways.”

  He squatted for a moment, leaving her limited field of vision, and she heard the slight rattle of chain. She groaned in frustration as the rattle of chain was followed by a familiar ratcheting sound, and then she felt the press of something tight against her ankles through the leather of the boots. Once again, she realized, her captor was taking no chances with her. Rising again, he placed a broad arm around her shoulder and began to lead her slowly forward. In the last unexplored section of the old building, she saw a pair of stables built against the wall. He led her to the doorway of the first, and her eyes went wide at the sight of what was within.

  “The draft ponies, those laborers I mentioned, tend to be a little more unruly, so they need to be kept quite secure.” He explained as her eyes took in the horrible little room. “And when draft ponies are allowed out of their stalls, it’s only to work hard at the wheel, which I think you saw earlier.”

  Inside the stable, she thought she was looking into a medieval torture chamber, only with a floor covered in hay. Heavy metal chains dangled from various spots on the walls, as well as other cruel-looking whips and paddles. A rough wooden post, square in shape and about as high as her chest, was set in the center of the floor, and it was adorned with numerous rings and leather straps as well. Against another wall was a large wooden frame in the shape of an ‘x’ with leather straps set in at the end of each arm, and dangling from its center. Two troughs sat on the floor, one filled with water and the other with what looked like some kind of porridge. Even though nothing appeared appetizing about the gruel, her stomach grumbled at the sight of it.