An Interest in Ponygirls

An Interest in Ponygirls

East Coast Slaver Organization Story - IV

Chapter 12 – Devious Planning (or It's the Vitamins, Stupid)

Joseph Loftus woke up feeling rejuvenated with life. He slipped smoothly out from under the covers and set his bare feet down on the cabin's cedar plank flooring. Joseph's eye was caught by the glittering stainless steel chain that ran from the heavy bedpost up under the covers to his bedmate of the night before. “A doctor,” he thought with amazement, “she's a gorgeous doctor and she obviously has some serious kinks. But, … whata fuck! She loved everything I did to her and she musta cum a dozen times.” He dismissed her bright red Mohawk as a temporary humiliation and instead admired her pretty face. “She's not young,” he criticized, “but then, … neither am I anymore.” His cock had by now fully awakened and was clearly yearning for more of what he got the night before.

Joseph had just coaxed his treacherous cock to soften enough to pee when a thought darkened his smiling face into deep concentration. He hurriedly pulled on his jeans, boots, and a long sleeve shirt and strode out into the early desert morning. The air was crisp and clear with just enough light to easily move about. He observed that the sun would not clear the distant range of mountains for at least thirty minutes. Somewhat to his surprise, there was a significant amount of early morning activity going on.

Marshall Thompson appeared to be waiting for him, holding a carafe of coffee and two empty mugs. The two men sat down of the rustic cabin's front porch steps and grinned wordlessly at each other as they held their coffee. Marshall spoke first, “Joseph, except for my military service, I've been a rancher my whole life, the same as my father and grandfather before me. We've barely scraped by for generations. Several years back I linked up with old military contacts that convinced me to try training Ponygirls for slavers. My plan was always to build this up into a viable operation and then sell it off for a better life in final retirement. The money end is fully on track; but I hafta admit that until yesterday and last night, I never fully appreciated what I have here.” The Arizona rancher took a deep sip from his steaming mug and continued after a moment's reflection, “Last night I was so wound up from watching the race we set up for you that I took a Ponygirl home to my bed for the first time.” He looked over at Joseph, “Man, it was great! My Ponygirl was an ex-employee here on the ranch and a confirmed lesbian. After undergoing our training regime, even she didn't have any choice; she popped off on my dick over and over like a string of firecrackers.” He looked guiltily down at the desert grit and added, “I'm considering keeping her even though we have kind of an agreement to set her free after her penance is complete.” He looked defiantly at his guest and added, “She was the best fuck of my life, bar none.”

Joseph sat grinning ear-to-ear during the entire guilty monologue. “Friend,” he said, “you took the very words I was ready to confess right out of my mouth. I came out here to ask if there was a way for me to keep my Ponyslut from last night as well.” He took a deep drink and added, “I think I have a plan that might work out for both of us.”

Much later that morning, Joseph met the Arizona rancher at the riding arena as planned. The Filipino grooms were just finishing securing two naked Ponygirls over a hitching rail. Marshall was running his coarse hand across the lean flank of what had once been Becky Sawyer. Now known only as ‘Two', the pretty blonde was thirty-seven compared to her sister Anna at thirty-one. As captive Ponygirls, Doctor Joan Miller had sculpted them to identical twins. Joseph grinned appreciatively at the glistening dew on the twat of his ex-fiancé's sister. The two girls were bound side-by-side in a similar manner. Each was bent over the hitching rail with hands drawn down and tied to ankles. A series of wrappings around their knees and elbows finished off the bondage. Neither girl could stop what the men were going to do with them. Joseph moved over to the younger sister, known forevermore as ‘One' and possessively cupped one of her stretched butt cheeks. “Hard to believe that I own these two sluts,” he commented idly.

Marshall shook his head, wondering again how he could have missed for so long the full appreciation of the enjoyment of owning a Ponygirl. “Last night was key to both of us,” he added with a chuckle. Then he pointed to a plastic tack box on the ground immediately between the joined ankles of the two helpless women, “After our talk this morning, I made some calls and got our regular vet to drop these off. He inspected these two sluts and agreed that your plan would work. Course, I had to let him use one of the twins as normal part of his payment for making house calls. To be honest, I can't remember which of the black-haired sluts he took. All I know is that he bellowed like a bull when he pumped his condom full in the privacy of her stall. I really think he was considering your plan as he popped his load. You are a devious son-of-a-bitch!”

Joseph couldn't believe his luck, “So, it'll work?”

Without replying, Marshall bent over and picked up a pint-sized jar holding a thick white liquid. He unscrewed the protective cap and exposed the thin rubber diaphragm for filling a syringe. “As of today, we stop their oral contraceptive. Get a large syringe, a needle, gauze, and alcohol and I'll show you how to do this.”

Seconds later, Joseph was dabbing an alcohol-laden gauze across the full meat of a fat tit on ‘Two'.

“Be sure to get a full 120 cc into the syringe,” Marshall directed. “Then remember, you put ten cc each into four sites around each breast and ten cc into two sites each on her ass.” Marshall reached under the bound Ponygirl and brutally yanked a fat tit out so that Joseph could inject it next. “Use only the top part of the tit meat, her implants are down low on her chest. There, … that's right. Now do the other tit.”

While the men worked about her body like a slab of meat and discussed her fate with the certainty that she had no voice in the outcome, Becky was trembling in fear from uncertainty about their plans. Her right boob already burned from the four injection sites and she felt her other breast brutally yanked out from where it was partially protected by her thighs. She winched as the first injection was forced into that boob and wondered what it all meant. “He bought us,” she told herself with silent sobs, “but what is he going to do? First I prayed for his rescue, and now I know that it's only worse because he somehow knew of our plans to steal his riches and then murder him.” The men were now spreading the icy cold antiseptic on her ass. From what she had overheard, she knew that four more injections would follow. The first needle speared into her fleshy meat and the burning fluid was forced out of the syringe. Becky could not protest. Not only was she bound tightly in place, but her modified dog-training collar ensured her silence. Other than her collar and white leather cross-trainer shoes, she was naked and exposed to the crisp Arizona air. She was brought out of her self-misery when she felt her feet being yanked forward, swinging her body up and around the hitching post. She realized that a rope around her ankles now held her body upside down with her feet pointed to an overhead beam of the riding arena. Becky could now see upwards and realized that a man was on each side of her. A rubbery dildo was slapped gently across her cheeks. Obediently, Becky opened wide and gagged briefly as the dildo slipped deep into her gullet. Panicked, Becky drew a ragged breath in through her nose and realized that the dildo was hollow, comprising some sort of feeding tube. One of the men held a funnel over the tube's end and the other poured another white milky fluid into the funnel. Becky felt the thin walls of the dildo pulsate as the thick liquid ran directly into her stomach. Soon it was over and the dildo withdrawn. She gasped for breath in her uncomfortable position and offered silent thanks that the ordeal had been relatively painless. “What are they planning she thought?” She remained bound while her sister was subjected to an identical treatment. Finally, it was over and her feet were swung down so that she once again lay draped over the hitching rail. A rock-hard cock speared her juicy pussy but she could only see a pair of upside down cowboy boots and dust-streaked jeans from her limited view. “Hmmph,” she grunted quietly. Then she realized with some dismay that her rapist had bottomed himself out in only two thrusts. “A whore,” she moaned to herself, “my pussy is making me a whore. Ahhhhh.” The man raping her had a wide, fat cock that was effortlessly spearing her already prepared cunt. She felt her belly ripple in appreciation and her inner cunt walls grasped hard to hold the fuckstick inside her vaginal sheath. “Eiiiii,” she screamed wordlessly, “ohhh, fuck!” In vain, she tried to hump back against the meaty rod rubbing her cunt lips and clit so deliciously. Within seconds, she exploded in her first orgasm. Too physically and mentally exhausted from the last few days' worth of ordeals, she laid limply in place as her lover finished his business-like fuck and pumped white creamy cum deep into her cunt; clearly not caring about her burning need for yet another climax.

Millions of viable sperm from Joseph's cock would swim fruitlessly toward Becky's womb, hoping for a fertile egg. However, in the days to come, the female hormones and fertility drugs just injected in her body would start to work their changes, flushing out her womb with blood and dropping an egg or two into her Fallopian tubes. Unwittingly, Becky the Ponygirl and her sister Anna were slated to become pregnant Ponygirls. Joseph Loftus had visions of gorgeous Ponygirls prancing about his ranch with slowly swelling bellies. His plan was to keep two Ponygirls pregnant at any given time; impregnating a set of Ponygirls each six months. After three months of nursing, he planned to remove the babies and give them to families desperately searching for children that they were unable to provide due to infertility or a physical inability to bring a fetus to full term. He and Marshall had spoken eagerly of how sexual it was to fuck a woman whose cunt and uterus were swollen with blood and hormones from pregnancy. “It's like they gotta get laid,” Marshall had laughed. “The hormones keep them constantly dripping wet with need and the blood flow keeps their nerves ready to explode from any stimulation. It's almost like a miracle, a natural version of Spanish Fly.”

Both Joseph and Marshall walked away from the hormone-loaded Ponygirls, shivering and still tethered at the hitching rail, each of the men simultaneously thinking of the wonder of fucking an unwillingly sexually responsive Ponygirl whose lactating breasts leaked milk at every tight squeeze of her titmeat. The men walked away, surreptitiously adjusting their rock-hard dicks in their jeans. Each was eager to nail the women still chained in their beds from the night before.

A wordless Marshall dragged Paula Laturno out of the bathtub where she was enjoying her first luxurious bath in weeks when he strode determinedly into the bathroom. The owner of Ponygirl Heaven Ranch soon had her wet form shackled spread-eagle on his bed. The wild scheme presented by Joseph Loftus had triggered something in Marshall Thompson's mind. After leaving his new friend pumping furiously away at Becky's slobbering cunt, Marshall had grabbed one box of pharmaceuticals and raced back to his cabin. Within minutes, Paula was ringgagged and voiceless on his bed. Paula nonetheless struggled mightily when she saw the dripping needle and the huge syringe in Marshall 's hand. The pain in her breast was nearly instantaneous as Marshall started her injections. Afterwards, Paula almost convinced herself that it had been a bad dream. The throbbing aching in her swollen boobs kept her honest with herself and unable to hide from the truth. “He's gonna make me pregnant!” she cried to herself later that day while still spread-eagled on the bed. “Eiiiii, … shit!” she added angrily.

Marshall 's terms to Paula were truly wicked. The good news was that she was to be released back to relative freedom and her previous occupation within seven days. The bad news is that he would restrict her movement and force her to remain at the ranch until a final test had been completed. “You see,” he explained, “I've fallen in lust with your body and your hot pussy. We need time as a couple to decide where we go from here.” Paula shamefully remembered how his words had resounded through her tightly bound body. “That bastard!” she told herself, “he knows I'm a lesbian and I prefer women; it's my traitor of a body that doesn't care how it gets laid.” As if to prove her words, her pussy clenched tightly as if to say how hungry it was for a hard cock. She wept long after he left her, still chained on the bed and awaiting their first sexual contest.

Tears still flowed down her cheeks as she remembered his harsh words. He told her how it was obvious that she had come to crave his cock, erupting in wild orgasm with every encounter between the two. Then he explained in cruelly descriptive terms what the drugs were doing to her system; how they prepared her body for motherhood. Lastly, he told her of the ‘deal' he had to offer. “You'll come to my cabin every Monday night,” he'd told her. “Monday night will be the night you decide how you want to roll the pregnancy dice for the following week. Quite simply, we'll have sex. The challenge to me is to get you to orgasm twice before I do. If you pop off twice, I get to paint your insides with my sperm. Further, that means I can repeat the contest every night for the rest of the week. Resist my charms, and my hard cock, and you are safe for the remainder of the week, six days free without sex. Oh, … and the only restriction on my part is that I have to get you to orgasm the second time with my dick. Anything goes for the first orgasm, it's just a warm-up freebie.”

“I don't want to get married,” she cried for the hundredth time that long afternoon. “And, … and, he wants me to sign myself over to him as if, … I were his chattel,” she whimpered in fear and confusion. To her horror, he had explained as he was walking out of the room that pregnancy meant she wanted to be owned, meaning she would have numerous duties on the ranch; his part-time lover, his part-time sex slave, the ranch's Ponygirl Mistress, and occasionally, a Ponygirl herself.

“Three months,” he concluded, “Three months resisting my sexual advances without getting pregnant and the contest is ended. That's twelve Monday nights where you decide whether to take my sperm. You will be able to stay or leave. In either event, I'll double your earned share of our profit sharing plan. If you get pregnant and decide you want to continue the arrangement, then we'll be married and make the deal permanent. Otherwise, the baby is mine upon birth and you leave with your retirement package and no parental rights.” Without another word, he had walked stiffly out of the room, leaving the sobbing Paula behind. Tearfully she waited and dreaded his return. “It's Monday afternoon,” she wailed silently. “He'll be back soon to fuck me and I won't even be able to talk, … to plead, … to beg him to reconsider.” The last thought was the most sobering, “he said its always going to be either a ringgag or my collar stays on during sex,” she told herself, “all he cares about is getting pleasure and popping off inside me; he doesn't want any chitchat, only hard-core graphic sex – that's what he told me, the cold-hearted bastard!”

While Paula awaited her unwanted lover's return, Joseph had returned to his cabin and much more romantically proceeded with his plan for Joan. He had silently prepared his bedpartner hot aromatic coffee and a tasty breakfast shake enriched with ‘vitamins, minerals, and protein.' Joan was too used to mistreatment and her bland liquid diet as a Ponygirl in training to complain at a chance to drink hot coffee and a tasty breakfast shake. “Hmmm,” she told herself, “sex, … a hot bath, … a clean bed with sheets, and breakfast in bed. “Hmmmm, yes; I could come to like this.” She had appreciatively caressed the now naked lean form of the rancher beside her as she worked on the frothy shake. If the collar would have allowed it, she would have giggled like a schoolgirl as his cock hardened under her light touch.

For once Joseph was thankful that Marshall had refused to give him control of Joan's training collar settings. He had no intention of letting her know that his plans exactly mirrored those of Marshall with Paula. Joseph intended to take every opportunity to load his potent sperm into Joan's vagina as the drugs brought it to be more receptive for pregnancy. Before he sent her on her way back to Ponygirl Heaven Ranch to begin her final week as Ponygirl Mistress, he expected her to have a fetus growing in her uterus. Unlike Marshall , Joseph was certain that he wanted to both possess and marry the strange and alluring woman he'd met in Ponygirl ‘Zero'. Marshall had capitulated and agreed to let him proceed with the plan, even without hearing back from Doctor Joan Miller's current husband of record and temporary owner, Robert Morgan. He'd been swayed when Joseph reminded him that, “Keep in mind, … in a worst case scenario, Robert Morgan will consider that a willful cunt got a bad bargain out of a deal with him. The only added extra that he never factored in is that she will end up pregnant; he'd already accepted your early assessment that she might never qualify as Ponygirl or Ponygirl Mistress. At the least it would help teach her to never attempt a bargain with a slaver. I call a ‘bun in the oven' a little bit of poetic justice to the bitch if she refuses to marry me after a few weeks imprisoned on my ranch. After all, I'm offering her the best of all worlds; time in Miami running her medical clinic, time in New Mexico as my ranch Ponygirl Mistress and lover, and some time herself as a Ponygirl. And, Marshall ,” he added as an aside, “don't forget that I won our wager on the Ponygirl race and technically she's mine to do with as I please now and for two more weeks in New Mexico .”

The afternoon dragged on and Paula continued to wait, an involuntary participant in Marshall Thompson and Joseph Loftus' kinky lust for a pregnant, lactating fuck. She squeezed her keegles and thought she heard a slight squelching sound as her cunt muscles contracted around her drooling vaginal sheath, knowing full well that her pussy was fully engorged with blood and was as slimy with sex lube as it could get. To her utter shame, she knew with absolute certainty that her fully denuded pussy lips were glistening with that same slime, telling anyone who looked that her sex was ready for mounting, … for enjoying a good rutting, … and for accepting her stud's sperm. “I don't want any cock, … I don't want any cock,” she thought over and over as a sort of protective mantra. She caught her breath as she once again quivered in arousal merely from the added stimuli of a single tickling draft of cooler air in the drafty cabin wafting across her hot and unquestionably aroused sex. Paula slumped down in sweat-drenched exhaustion. “I'm already so fucked,” drifted unwontedly across her consciousness as she tried to regain her mental composure.

Marshall had hurried though all his duties to get back to his cabin. The Filipinos were finished with cleaning up from the wild festivities after the race and the ranch was already back in smooth operating order. Marshall paused on his cabin porch and decided to quietly remove his boots outside in order to sneak in on his waiting fuckmeat. “Right now that's all she is,” he reminded himself. “No use getting moon-eyed over this heifer unless she takes to me. After all, there's plenty of loose cunt wandering around that I can cut out of the general population and try on for size.” He slipped noiselessly into his oversize cabin and stood in his greatroom while he hurriedly stripped down naked. A quiet grunt of satisfaction slipped from his lips as his right hand lightly teased his fully ready cock and he determined that today's contest might be the hardest of the coming weeks. “I'm so ready to plow that bitch and make her mine!” he chortled to himself as he stepped through his bedroom doorway.

The sight that greeted him froze him in place. Paula's full-bodied looks would never qualify her as a lean and trim fashion model, or Ponygirl for that matter. “No,” he decided lustily, “she perfect as she is. This is no frail thing. She's meaty and muscular in all the right places.” His appreciative eyes slowly drank in her form from her fleshy thighs and ass, to her slightly thick waist, and her full meaty tits before they widened in real lust at the look on her face. Then he looked more closely and saw the flush covering her breasts and the rock-hard nipples. “She hasn't seen me yet,” he thought. “But, … even with the cool air in here today, she's covered in sweat. And her cunt, … wow it's as shiny and red as a springtime flower, ripe and ready for the plucking. Fuck me, she's been thinking only of getting sexed! This might be the easiest pregnancy test ever undertaken.”

Marshall crouched down quickly before she saw him standing there and he crept up to the base of the bed. He forced himself to calmly slither up the end of the bed and center his reaching tongue on her hot core. Her gasp as his cool tongue locked on her throbbing clit was all the encouragement he needed. Paula's cunt was arched up hard into his face before either of his hands could reach up to grab a tit or stimulate her raised cunt mound. The ringgag made her gasps and grunts fully animalistic, evoking an instant response in his aching cock throb trapped against the bed's cool sheets. He made one licking circuit around her slobbering cunt lips before latching once again on her clit. She exploded in orgasm, less than thirty seconds after his tongue first touched her already aroused nerve bundles.

Paula was still spasming out of control with her first orgasm as Marshall feverishly spun in place on the sweaty bedsheets to loosen her ankle restraints. Gasping with his own need, he forced her legs up into the air and set them, ankles to her ears, exposing her swollen red gash. “Oh, you delicious bitch!” he whispered as he fumbled around her opening with the knob on his bare fuckstick. “Take that in your baby making box!” he literally howled as he fell balls-deep in a single lunge. “Today's a freebie cause you can't get pregnant. So, … let yourself go, … fuck me like the slut you are!”

Incoherent from the avalanche of a climax that had just torn through her unprepared defenses, Paula could barely hear her tormentor. She did grunt with the forceful way she was bent back, her feet lodged near her ears. His distantly understood words of bitch, … baby-making, … slut, … fuck, and … pregnant each hit primordial nerve endings and as he slid deep inside her with a single breath-whoosing plunge, she exploded again in uncontrollable orgasm. Less than two minutes into that afternoon sex session, she had loosed the two strongest orgasms of her life, felt his jism flow unstopped into her soon-to-be-receptive womb, and passed out from the overload. Marshall himself was so satiated from the overwhelming fuck session and her electrified cunt muscles that he passed out atop his new acquisition. Long minutes later, neither was conscious to note that his sperm-covered fuckstick relaxed enough to plop out of a slimy cunt box that was overflowing with his potent seed. Paula had just set herself up to a weeks worth of ‘cunt testing' and Marshall had discovered how easily his Ponygirl could be defeated by her own lust.

Just a few scant hours later, the Filipino driver that had won the race the evening before lovingly led Joan the Ponygirl to the hotwalker. Rigged once again in her familiar waist belt and wrist cuffs, she obediently followed the worker's lead and let him clip her nose ring to the lead line hanging on her end of the mechanical walker. He gently caressed her side and whispered his thanks for winning him the race. “The two black-haired beetches not so stuck up today,” he whispered happily to his winning Ponygirl. He possessively cupped her ass and added, “Them never fuck the likes of me before. Hay Chiquita! Them hot fucks once use wheep a little bit, you betcha. I ride ‘em hard. We no sleep all night.”

Joan couldn't help but grin at the plight of the former high society girls who had aspired to be slavers themselves. “Blueblood Lisa and Lori Heath fucking a half-breed Filipino, … how far the once mighty have fallen,” she thought happily. “And a full month servicing his fat and stunted cock.” Then she paused in her reflection and added, “Yesss, … I should be back in two weeks to begin my Ponygirl Mistress training. I'll get to see them nailed like the bitches in heat they really are.” Joan turned her attention to Paula already connected to the hot-walker in the position directly across the arena. “She looks positively glowing,” she observed. Then she realized that her comment about bitches in heat probably applied to herself and Paula as well. The tell-tale glistening streak down Paula's thighs bespoke volumes about what she had been doing during the afternoon. “At least, Joseph and I had a nice shower together,” she grinned cattily. She couldn't help but notice that they were going to be walked without ballgags. “Guess they're happy with our performance in the arena and in the bedroom,” she thought somewhat dreamily. With a creaking groan and an abrupt yank on her lead line, the walker started up and interrupted her inner musings. As if to second her thought about being pleased with their service, the pace set by the mechanical device was slow and measured, making for an easy workout for the two Ponygirls and their happy handler. It almost seemed as if his touches with the lunging whip were teasing rather than controlling.

That night Anna and Becky Sawyer crawled gratefully onto their small sleeping pads atop the aromatic cedar shavings in their stalls. Their breasts still throbbed from the hormones injected directly into their breast meat. Despite knowing that they couldn't possibly be pregnant, each couldn't help but imagine how the crusty sperm around their bare sexes heralded the millions more that had swum blindly around her innards, seeking an egg inside her womb. The Sawyer women wondered if the itching, tingling sensation in their sexes meant they were simply sluts eager for more sexing or if it meant a fetus had already taken hold inside them.

As Anna and Becky drifted off into restless sleep, Paula's pussy was clamping around her new lover once again in an animalistic orgasm. Not far away, Joan Miller was eagerly taking Joseph Loftus's baby-making sperm as she wrapped her legs and arms around his sweat-drenched form. The four satisfied lovers collapsed into a deep and dreamless sleep.

--- To Be Continued ---

 

Author: Desert Dog ****** E-Mail: Desertlickingdog at yahoo dot com

Please consider an e-mail with your opinion on the story.

Alternatively, consider using the BDSM library review option.

Story ideas are also welcome.