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Farewell My Panties

Chapter 2 Tec

Farewell My Panties

Farewell My Panties

(by Eve Adorer)

 

Chapter 2 – Tec

 

Even as I was a dyin’ with orgasmin’ on stage at Letme O’Lick’s strip joint, my fellow copettes undercover in the audience, led by Captainess Ophelia Snatch herself, rounded up Feelinsideskia Clitoriskia and her gang.

 

It made headlines. I became a star copette. I got me a leadin’ article in ‘The Probe’, an interview on ‘Gettin’ to the Bottom of …..’, and a picture in the blue frame of fame of ‘Titular’ magazine: a picture of me naked, so the world could see the beautiful heroine copette in all her god-given glory.

 

That was now three years history.

 

As soon as that case was overed, I’d felt I needed out.

 

Okay, I’d enjoyed fame some. But even bein’ surrounded by pretty teenage girls beggin’ your autograph on their panties, still warm cos they’re still wearin’ them, and a whisperin’ what they’d like to do for you in bed, gets a mite tiresome time.

 

Bein’ a so-called ‘heroine’ fades with clock-tock too.

……………

 

I was bendin’. Bottom drawer included the zees. I was filin’ the CD-R on the Zodiac Case. It had been my best so far. Madam Gypsy O’Swami had made dreams come true usin’ date-dupe drugs.

 

But that was just meanin’ that the only dreams she’d fulfilled was her own. Usin’ the drugs had prevented evidence. Pretty girls came outta her place without their panties, somehowin’ that they’d been thoroughly licked out, but with no recall.

 

I’d planted a transmit-spy-bug under O’Swami’s crystal ball. The consequent movie-pic of me bein’ date-raped had sensationed the court and gotten O’Swami, two-years in the cage.

 

Nowtime, on the wall behind my chair was a glass-front frame holdin’ my copette’s gold-thong and medallion. I’d wanted out even before the thong award ceremony. But agreed in the end, that it was not polite to leave without my panties on.

 

Where I was now, was 13-stair-steps up at 38E Fakir Street, an apartment-cum-office.

 

I’d had the glass top-panel of the outer door painted white letters my name and business.

 

That day that door stood open some to let the coolin’ fan blow the goddam fug somewheres other than round and back offa the steamin’ seemin’ walls.

 

The light in the hallway was makin’ my door, cast shadow my carpet floor. The glass frame was floor projected parallelogram. ‘Ima Dike – Private Detective’ was black shadow floor same where it was white painted door. I was Private Eye now.

 

I was bendin’. Bottom drawer of my filin’ cab included the zees. I was filin’ the CD-R on the Zodiac Case.

 

I was in my favourite business-girl suite. Dark blue jacket and micro-skirt with darker-blue pinstripe, save that I was blouse in the humidity heat? I wasn’t thinkin’ none about how bendin’ was confirmin’ me genuine blonde, tail as well as top, leastin’ not till I rose again and found myself sudden deep blushin’.

 

She musta glided in like a ghost. I eyed the lead-sperm-ejaculator I’d left at right-corner my desk in its strapon. I shoulda never been so careless with my shooter, but the doll dame didn’t seem no trouble.

 

A contralto of pure opera purred pussy-kitten: “I didn’t like to knock. Seein’ your gun ready on the desk like that. I thought ‘accident’ if I made you jump by startlin’ you some”, the delicious dame apologised.

 

Oh my gee, but was she somethin’ else: though nothin’ else other than girl plenty! Twenty? She was five-four with a figure caressed so tight by a goddam lucky dress, the wonder was the wonder could breath: breath-takin’ tight.

 

My breath was taken sure, as I auto-ogled her toes to top. The platform mules with their twelve-inch heels, the stockin’ on the stupendous left leg flashin’ lithe live outta the side-slit in her ankle-length hug-gown, the belt round her no-waste waist, her hand-purse, the finger-tips to elbows silk gloves, and the spider-web veil down from the pillbox hat that angled on her empress’ head, were all in taxicab-yellow.

 

Imperial was her face, with dark-brown eyes lookin’ down on ya like they was favourin’ you with mercy not to have ya top lopped axe. She was a negress of somethin’ like Ethiopian origin, with a head of close-cropped oh boy no boy oh joy curls, the prettiest petite shell-likes with sparklin’ diamond clip-on earrings, a bod top-heavied but still streamline feline, thirty-six firm, twenty-two middle, thirty-five wiggle, and a smile that said gentle sweetness was behind the imperious apparent.

 

This doll had princess-presence, and I almost reflexed a curtsey, she seemed so queenly.

 

An adorable giggle told me I had reacted in a way she was useta.

 

“Hi. I’m Merinda de Cabot-Ensaya?” the angel smile-intro’d, holdin’ her hand-purse left mit, while extendin’ her now degloved right pretty, to let me touch her long fingers in intro shake.

 

I dared to touch her delightful tips and felt megawatts bolt my spine, as she giggle-smiled again when I all but bent to kiss the back of her hand.

 

I took deep breath: the breath she’d stunned outta me. I knew I’d gotta get on toppa this, situation-wise, and moment dreamed get ontop of this chick I wished already.

 

“What canna I do for you lady?” I casualled, pretend assured confident.

 

“Murder”, the vision replied, with cool calm charm.

 

Realisin’ there was nothin’ in it for me if that was what she was wantin’ detect, bar the joy of the presence of this damned beautiful presence, and thinkin’ I’d as well get back to my filin’, I dismiss-informed:

 

“Lady…..: homicide; matricide; infanticide; regicide; even suicide: any ‘ides’ both sidesa the ides of March, is for the cops not for me ….”

 

“No” said the golden gorgeous, “No. I mean I want you to murder someone for me.”

 

‘Loony toon crackpot sad-case no-case go-home’, I spat insidea my mind, and maybe with my eyes, as I nexted:

 

“Oh yea. Like who d’ya want me to Lee Harvey, if’n it ain’t the president herself you want me to Oswald?”

 

“Me”, said the sublime princess: “I want you to kill me.”

……………

 

Shocked was silence as this beauty of beauties continued her sunny smile.

 

Stunned, I indicated chair and watched with fascination as supreme dream perched her perky derriere and revealed full sumptuous stockinged leg and diamond decorated suspender clasp when she crossed her left leg over her still dress-skirted right, showin’ thigh the size of the sighs in my eyes as I looked the strength of their long length in longin’.

 

I suspected her ‘murder me’ was just an attention grabber. And it was no problem at all to pay attention’s homage to this honey.

 

‘Merinda de Cabot-Ensaya’. I’d heard or read that recent. Where was it? What was it? Who was she? I wanted ‘be there’ afore she told me. Then it came shaft-lightenin’ - the ‘Nubian Nipple’. Oh my god! That was it! The ‘Nubian Nipple’ stolen then sold to the Lola-Dillinger gang. The ‘Nubian Nipple’, the biggest friggin’ ruby the world had ever seen.

 

And ‘Merinda de Cabot-Ensaya’ – she was only Her Most Merciful Majesty the Supreme Princess Merinda de Cabot-Ensaya of Ensaya and Xallia in Xallitia-Compusmertia, the heiress to the throne of Ongeria!

 

“Please call me ‘Merinda’”, smiled the lovely who’d clearly read my mind and realised what I’d realised.

 

“Why a hick dick like me?” I asked, breath taken again.

 

“Anonymity”, Merinda answered, her perfect white teeth contrastin’ her Nubian negro grace face. The bold lips of her tiny tidy mouth mesmerised my eyes. When she whisper-spoke it was with kisses, like her lips were utterin’ utterly beautiful fragrant flutterin’ butterflies.

 

“You also come highly recommend too. You’ve won the copette’s gold medallion and the gold thong. No former copette comes more recommended than that”, Merinda convidenced.

 

“Nobody knows I’m here in New Edingow yet”, she continued.

 

“The gossip columns will spill the beans anytime now, or would if I hadn’t been sneaked into the USA. I need someone on the inside. Lola has got the ruby you obviously must have read about, even though it made no real splash here – the one they call ‘the Nubian Nipple’? ……”

 

“What was all that stuff about a murder?” I queried.

 

“Mmm.” Merinda looked concerned. My momma will know it isn’t true. I do so hate to deceive my people this way though…. It’d be triggered by a code word. The announcement would go out back home that I’d contracted a fever and there was fear for my life.”

 

“You see, we’ve just got to get the ‘Nubian Nipple’ back to Ongeria where it was originally found and where it belongs with Her Supreme Serenity, my dear momma. The ‘Nubian Nipple’ has been worn by the brides of Ongerian royalty since time began. We have the girls who stole it and sold it to Lola….”

 

Somethin’ chillin’ in Merinda’s tone made me glad I was none of those thievin’ girls.

 

“So it wouldn’t really be a murder you… I mean you and I would be committin’: just a deception that I was down with a contagion and bound to stay hidden away in Ongeria, so as to disguise that I am really over here”, Merinda continued.

 

“So: where do I fit in?” I questioned.

 

“It needs someone on the inside. Lola is lookin’ to pay the City a compliment for all it has done for her…..” Merinda continued.

 

I gave her my ‘what the hell do you know about Lola?’ look. Merinda fielded it and tossed it back to me.

 

“I know all about Lola. I graduated at New Edingow State, takin’ my doctorate in music there. Lola donated the Hall of Residence I lived in.”

 

“I know she’s tryin’ to make all she’s done in the past, look legitimate now. Her latest ruse is that she’s offered to provide and fund some ponygirls for the New Edingow Police Department, ready for the annual autumn fall parade in Central Park …..”

 

“So: where do I fit in?” I innocented….

 

….and then the cent dropped….

 

“Oh no you don’t!” I said. “Oh no! No no no no no!”

 

“You’re an exceptionally attractive girl” Merinda continued. “I read about your exploits on the ‘Titular’ magazine website. Gold medal and gold thong: the police department would have you back from private eye anytime. They’d leap at the chance to have you in their stables if you were to volunteer pony.”

 

I can’t tell a lie. As this lady spieled her reel, I was blushin’ cos I was wishin’ I’d put on some panties that mornin’ as I woulda done if it were not so darned hot. But I was wishin’ for panties now, cos I was salivatin’ at the thought of bein’ made pony…. I’d gotten the fires of hell in my beelzebub and needed cool down…”

 

“I ain’t messin’ none with the Lola-Dillinger mob”, I extinguishered. “Lola eats the likes of me for breakfast and then craps them out same day dead. It’s way too big for little ol’ me. I ain’t suicidal.”

 

“Since I went gumshoe, I got a good business goin’. Even if Lola didn’t mincemeat me, she’s gotten contacts as would ruinize me. I gotta have the cops on my side. Lola’s got top cops lickin’ her slit. Soon as Lola got whisper I was lookin’ to trouble her some, my P.I. licence would be confetti at a paper shredders’ weddin’”.

 

“No: I ain’t messin’ none with the mob….”, I repeated.

 

“Not for one-million dollars?” Merinda persuaded.

 

“You’d not be alone in there. I’ve been breakin’ girls to pony since I was a young teen. We’d volunteer as a package. You as the would-be pony, me as a trainer and chief stable-girl. The NEPD are already in on this. They’ve let Lola know that this package – you with me - is on offer for her gift to the City, without lettin’ Lola know where the info came from. And don’t worry, only trustworthy cops know the truth… Ophelia Snatch used to be your sergeantess I believe….”

 

“Captainess”, I corrected….

 

“Well, she’s certainly a captain now, and still mighty proud of you Ima”…. Merinda manipulated.

 

“Okay. Supposin’… only supposin’ I was to say ‘yes’ to this scheme: how does gettin’ me stable-stall as a copette-ponygirl get us anywheres near your precious ‘Nubian Nipple’ ruby, lessen Lola lets me wear it in my navel?” I dampened.

 

“I can think of no greater honour for the ‘Nubian Nipple’ than that you should wear it Ima”, Merinda sincered with her tiny bold-lipped mouth kissin’ out every word, as I blushed red rose to my toes.

 

“Lola donated the cop’s ponygirl stables. The stables are ground-floor of one of Lola’s New Edingow City homes. My gettin’ taken on as a stable-girl, gets me among Lola’s servants and thus, with luck, near to the ruby. I locate the ruby for sure, grab it, bag it, and then leave for Ongeria ….”, Merinda made simple soundin’.

 

“There’s just one problem …… How do we know Lola will not recognise you princess?” I doubtized.

 

“She will if you call me ‘princess’”, Merinda gentled with a smile that was pure love.

 

“Look Ima…. the theft of the ‘Nubian Nipple’ took place in Ongeria. You know of it because you’re an efficient and effective private investigator keepin’ an eye on the newswires, and with police contacts listin’ to you, both stolen property and its probable recipients.”

 

“I’m afraid we had to interrogate the thieves. When a girl’s hangin’ from the ceilin’ by her clit, with a barbed-wire cat o’ nine-tails bein’ heated to red-hot ready to be used on her tits, she soon tells the truth.”

 

“That truth is, that all Lola knows is that she’s gotten this beautiful ruby; not where it comes from or what its known as. Where it came from and what it is, made the newswires, but it wasn’t news actually anywheres appearin’ in the USA that day or any day….. It was too minor compared with Hurricane Zanta. Lola will not even have ever heard of Ongeria: least that’s our best bet.”

 

“A million dollars US?” I asked for sureness.

 

“How about a million Ongerian dollars…… and a kiss?” Merinda countered.

 

“But that’s half as much again!” I exclaimed.

 

“And the kiss?” Merinda queried as she rose to close my office door to secure our intimate privacy, and worked her spider web veil up from over her adorable face.

 

As she came back toward me, stood waitin’ as I was, I hung my head in pure ecstasy of anticipation. I raised my eyes to look longingly into those of the lovin’ lovely princess, only as I felt her sweet breath rufflin’ my foreheaded blonde fringe.

 

As Merinda looked steadily haughtily at me, my eyes swung side-to-side wild with wantin’ focus on a love that would not hurt me.

 

Then I offered my mouth for whenever she might deign to anoint it with a prayer from her natural constant-kiss-pose-poised negress’ lips.

 

“No Ima…..” Merinda honeyed. “No Ima….. your other lips first…..”

 

……………

 

I was confused. Who wouldn’t be? Three-months on and I was still awonderin’ why, I’d volunteered to go undercover this way.

 

But, hey, I’d gotten other problems now.

 

I seemed to be livin’ offa porridge three times a day. It was great for me keepin’ my figure trim. It gets a bit borin’ though. But, when you get to realisin’ that that is all your gonna get to eat, lessen some bran or apple cores, or carrot tops, you eat it.

 

On my head, they were keepin’ both sides my hair mown down like blonde corn-stubble, and lettin’ the middle grow long, and then brushin’ the middle over one side, kinda like I hada horse’s mane?

 

Merinda de Cabot-Ensaya had charge over me, she was also teachin’ two pretty little copettes who were innocent of the undercover mission we was on: Loretta and Nina: trainin’ them as stable-girls, all at Lola’s expense, so she could donate the City with us as part of her ‘gone clean from crime’ new image.

 

Merinda knew what she was doin’ trainin’ pony, that I did know. There was, of course, some kinda deadline they were aimin’ for: we were aimin’ for, save that I was now outta the plannin’ loop, though not outta the plan.

 

Of course I asks Merinda and the other stable-girls what was goin’ down, but they’d never answer, only put a mark on a whiteboard, and then give my ass as many strap-whip lashes as is on the whiteboard at the enda the day. So you’ll hafta ‘scuse me, that I soon stopped askin’ none no more. That strap-whip really hurt, and so did the bruises for days after.

 

I’d cry myself to sleep after I’d been given a whippin’ by Merinda. She knew how to whip a girl intimately, so as it really hurt.

 

I was in stables and slept in a stall standin’ on straw.

 

Least I didn’t hafta worry none about groomin’.

 

I coulda used some warm water ‘stead of the cold they used, but Loretta and Nina would take me in the yard ‘n hose me down and soap me head-to-foot every mornin’ at five o’ clock. They kept my mane brushed on my head, and the curls round my sluice, and brushed my teeth.

 

I was longin’ to have Loretta or Nina trim my bikini-line and shave my legs and armpits, but they seemed to be minded to let my armpits, my bush, and my legs go back to nature.

 

I hated that first off, but I got to find it kinda beautiful when I could feel the fine gold filigree on my thighs and calves a flutterin’ in the gentle breeze that blew the stables’ yard. And when it was cool mornin’s, I was mighty glad of the little hair my all-oestrogen-fuelled very feminine body had on it.

 

Walkin’ in my shoes, I’d gotten used to over that three months to now.

 

They were darned heavy hangin’ on my big toes like they did. My big toes each had a shoe hangin’ from it. All my other toes dangled free. They was free to dangle, cos the way my shoes were fitted I had to be standin’ and walkin’, and even runnin’, right up on tiptoe, full-time, all-time, lessen I wanted my big toes broke: which I did not!

 

Each shoe I wore was of iron and steel. My big toes were trapped in clamps. The top end was shaped like an upside-down question mark ‘?’. Where the dot of the upside-down ‘?’ is, was connected hollow tube, split one side, with a band around and a tightenin’ lock-screw.

 

So my big toes were pushed into the hollow tube down to the second section of my toe, soas the first section with my toenail was wigglin’ free still. Then the side-screws tightened the split tube round the enclosed section of my big toe, keepin’ it tight-gripped, soas to hold my hooves to my big toes permanent.

 

The first curved bit of the upside-down ‘?’ was of springy steel, so it took some of the impact as I walked trotted or ran in my heavy hooves.

 

Screwed to the middle of the curved part of the spring-steel upside-down ‘?’ curved bit, was a solid heavy circular hardwood block, weighted inside with lead.

 

These internally-weighted hardwood blocks, had chamfered sides: sides slopin’ so that they were bigger diameter nearer the ground than they were where my clamped big toes dangled middle above their circular shape.

 

As I walked or whatevered with these blocks on my feet, the spring in the upside-down ‘?’ was such that my big toe ends would touch down on the block with every step, before springin’ up again when I lifted my pretty foot.

 

By this means: by means of havin’ my big toes clamped to these heavy blocks, I stood or walked, or trotted, with my feet pointin’ straight down; further spring in my steps bein’ provided by the arches of the soles of my bare feet, my legs bein’ locked in beyond en pointe, more ballerinered than a pirouettin’ ballerina’s, and one-hundred-percent-permanently up sky high, showin’ the full beauty in the incredibly erotic shape this sculptured my long legs inta.

 

And nailed to the bottom of each of the two heavy hardwood wooden block hooves clamped to my feet, were, as befits a ponygirl, iron pony shoes.

 

I wore hooves with nailed-on iron pony shoes on my tiptoed big toes. I was bein’ made ponygirl like Merinda had said would happen when I accepted her case.

 

Of course I was tacked out pony when I was bein’ trained.

 

Most time though, I only wore my hooves and the steel stocks or cangue that kept my pretty arms stretched-out helplessly cruciform.

 

Light-blue leather seemed to be the theme of my harness. The cangue had a central neck-brace, a leather tube, of thick leather, that held my chin up straight, so as I could only look horizonwards. It braced my neck and held my chin soas I couldn’t turn my head neither way.

 

The arms of this stocks was curved soas they rested on my shoulders before stretchin’ out either side of me to hold my arms up liken I was crucified. Only my wrists was through padlocked leather wristlets at the ends of their spread, my elbows hung down a little in the middle of each spread, and my pretty hands with their perfectly girlicured nails, dangled down decorative but helpless at the ends.

 

When they was a trainin’ me, they said I needed to be broken. They said I had too much sass and way too much spirit and they would beat it outta me if’n I didn’t learn to obey. Even Merinda went along with this.

 

I soon gotten used to the head harness. Light-blue leather straps, and plenty of them, held a round shiny and cold steel-bit between my teeth and over my tongue.

 

But sometimes when they were angry with my progress bein’ lackin’, they’d make me wear a round ‘O’ bit they called a ‘punishment bit’, so my jaw was stretched wide-open and so my tongue was lollin’ about in my ‘O’ wide-opened mouth. And my jaw hurt terrible. And havin’ my tongue like that would make me dribble saliva all day. It was true horrible when they did that.

 

Of all the straps of my normal head harness, one tied my bit hard back in my mouth, and another formed a headband that buckled backa my head like the bit-strap did backa my neck.

 

Backa my head, these two straps, bit and headband, were through loops in two more straps runnin’ vertical, that thus stopped my headband strap slippin’ offa my head.

 

Then two straps ran up to my headband strap from my bit strap at the side of my lovely face over my heaven-high cheekbones, and these held blinders / blinkers either side my gentle hazel eyes.

 

The blinders were shaped like reverse capitals ‘D’ with the flat side of the ‘D’ furthest from the side of my head. My headband had a middle slot for some decorative plumes if’n they were wanted, only I never wore none in trainin’.

 

The headband also had my name on it. I’d gotten used to no longer bein’ ‘Ima Dike’. I’d had to. They’d whip my ass if’n I didn’t answer to what they called my ‘pony name’.

 

To my stable-girls, Loretta and Nina, and all those lookin’ after me in the stables, I was now ‘Hotcrack’, and it said as much in a plaque over my stall as wellas the band crossin’ my forehead when I was in my bridle.

 

Merinda and the two rookie copettes showed no mercy breakin’ me.

 

Every day all the daylight hours for the past three months I’d been in a high walled field neighbourin’ the stable yard goin’ round and round and round in a circle in my hooves, my cruciform neck-brace, and my bridle with bit: sometimes the punishment bit.

 

Merinda put me through basic ponygirl trainin’ whilst breakin’ my spirit same time.

 

Loretta, Nina, and even Merinda herself would oversee me learnin’ to walk, trot, run, and lope to voice command.

 

I was tethered by a rein on one side of my mouth-bit to an arm above my head that came out of a central rotatin’ pony trainer. The only time they would unhitch me, was when they wanted me go the other way: clockwise instead of anticlockwise, or elsen vice versa.

 

And they didn’t mess none. If I took a wrong step or stumbled or didn’t go the right pace or gotten tired, they whipped my ass with a four-foot long strap-whip that had a kiss like a million hornets’ stingin’ ya.

 

In my early days they slapped my ass with that darned whip till my bruises bruises had bruises on their bruises bruises.

 

Hot or cold, rain or shine, they drove me and drove me and drove me clip-cloppin’ round and round and round, and flogged my ass into the next state if’n I showed any twitch of resistance.

 

I’d never knowed it was to be this real. It was. I was bein’ really made pony and no reservation.

 

I thought I was fit afore I was bein’ made pony, but this trainin’ found me short.

 

To get my legs in trim, they put obstacles around my circuit. And I hadta leap several hurdles the tops of which were wrapped around with barbed wire: so god help my soft smooth flawless feminine flesh if’n I didn’t clear hurdle right each time, every time.

 

I suffered too from ‘tit slap’. I’m a big girl up top, and runnin’ nude, despite my arms bein’ uplifted, my tits, bein’ all as nature provided, would flip flop on my chest as I jumped and trotted.

 

I’m a firm girl, but my tits rest natural with their undersides on my middle chest. Without a bra to restrain them, they went wild as I was made to walk, trot, run, and leap hurdle, rollin’ on my chest and liftin’ flippin’ and flappin’ and slappin’ down. And I woulda never complained none, cos I loved this happenin’ cos it reminded me all the time I was bein’ tortured that I was a girl.

 

At night they tethered me standin’ in my stall cos I had to sleep standin’ up now I was ponygirled.

 

My hooves stayed on 24/7, but they took my arm holder off.

 

They also took off my bridle till I’d eaten and drank some. They girlackled my wrists behind me though, so I had to eat and drink water with my mouth and tongue alone, outta troughs in my stall.

 

Then they put a rubber gag bit ‘tween my teeth, and tethered me to the ceilin’ of my stall, with my hands still girlackled behind my back, so I couldn’t pleasure myself none, and my ankles girlackled close. That’s the position in which I hadta learn to sleep, and it ain’t easy to sleep standin’ up: believe me!

…………………

 

My teachin’ to be pony meant I hadta also learn to piss and shit animal.

 

I just hadta piss and shit when and where I could. And I’d piss the straw in my overnight stall, and it’d eventually end up tricklin’ down and twirlin’ round my curvy legs’ thighs and calves, but would never be enough to wash it off if I’d shit on myself, as that’d cake my asshole, my thighs and my calves, stinkin’ all night as I tried to sleep.

 

That was real horrible for me, but I knew I hadta get used to it.

 

“Well how’s it goin’ with ‘Hotcrack’, Merinda?” I heard a voice I knew to be the true spit and tonsil of Lola herself one mornin’ late on in my breakin’-in as a pony.

 

I shifted in my stall, well behind her and outta her sight, all disturb on accounta the presence of my sponsor, and wantin’ to see what she looked like.

 

I now listened intent, like a good private dick should, and neighed not a word.

 

Merinda’s sweet contralto purr came next.

 

“Hotcrack is comin’ on real well. Loretta and Nina have done most the work, with my guidin’ oversight.”

 

“We’ve got a good pair of stable-girls there.”

 

“We’re gonna train Hotcrack to the tit-reins startin’ this mornin’. We start now to mix a bit of kindness to go with the punishment. It usually brings them on in leaps and bounds; or should that be ‘trots and lopes’?”

 

“I got an hour before I need report to business….”, said the voice I just somehowed was Lola’s.

 

“’Fraid you won’t see much in that hour, bar god’s own beauty bein’ hosed down for to start her day. But, if we get a move on, maybe midday you’ll get to see how she reacts to the tit-reins and if she’s gonna learn them quick or slow”, Merinda mused.

 

“Okay. I’ll skip it for now, and maybe drop in lunchtime” says Lola.

 

“That’ll be fine. But Hotcrack’ll still be learnin’ tit-rein obedience then. It’ll go on all day”, says Merinda.

 

And I sobs quietly, no longer feelin’ such a brave P.I. no more. Not sure how much more of this torture I can take despite the million dollars headin’ for my bank account.

 

But I have my pride and I don’t show how I’m feelin’ as they hose me down in the stable yard, payin’ attention to gettin’’ my overnight shit offa my now fine-soft-gold-hair-down covered legs.

 

And a new determination to be the bestest ponygirl in the US of A comes over me. And I don’t know what they’re gonna teach me next, but I’m darn well gonna show them I can learn and learn good.

 

And I’m put in my arm spreader again, and a new bridle with a mouth-bit I ain’t had afore.

 

It was real horrible that bit. It was like my normal trainin’ bit. It was round in profile and straight solid steel. But it was longer and stuck out either sidea my mouth. And what was horrible, real horrible, was that there was a slot right through the middle of the bit. And, as it was slid into my mouth, I was made to put my tongue through that slot, soas when they tied this new mouth-bit at the backa my neck, my tongue was imprisoned with only its tip stickin’ out.

 

Merinda explained to the stable-girls she was also trainin’ that this was what was called a ‘good-girl’ bit, cos it ensured a supersensitivity of the mouth to commands from reins, if’n mouth-reins was to be used. But that even if the pony was to be in tit-reins, the extra sensitivity of the mouth was of benefit: not least if she was to pull a cart and would thus be at some distance from her driver.

 

And they was strappin’ this at the back of my neck, and fittin’ the rest of my new bridle with side-blinders, and headband with my name: ‘Hotcrack’ in bold red on the light-blue leather they are harnessin’ me in as ever.

 

And I’m feelin’ even less brave now.

 

And this ‘good-girl’ bit has got two rings, one on each end, where each end juts out wider than my pretty face. These ‘Os’ are standin’ wider than the cheeks of my lovely face. And Merinda’s gotten two gold rings in her hands and she’s teachin’ Loretta and Nina as she’s tackin’ me out pony.

 

“Now take a close look at these” Merinda says to Loretta and Nina, “As you’ll see, each of these rings has a spring steel spike leadin’ down from where there is a hinge to complete the ring’s circle. The spike is bifurcated, I mean it is split into two.”

 

“Now then. There is a clamp around the end of the bifurcated spike just at present ……there……do you see? It has a little side handle see? And…… And…. As….. as I slide that clamp up the forked spike….see!”

 

“Did you see that as well Loretta? See. I slide the clamp up toward the nipple-ring, and the bifurcated spike opens out in opposite directions like a flower openin’ its petals, and then….. Then…..if I can just get a hold of it… this one’s new and a bit stiff…. That’s got it. Then it comes back together again, when I slide the clamp toward the tip of the needle: …. just… hang on….. Right…. There…. Like that see?”

 

“Now, we introduce the tip of the needle into Hotcrack’s’ nipple’s milk-hole so….and we push the needle in as we slide the clamp up, and the needle bifurcates inside of Hotcrack’s’ breast as the needle pierces her delightful flesh, and she ends up with a ring danglin’ from her right nipple….. like……. there we are….. like….hold her…… yep…. that’s got it…. like so: see?”

 

With my head held up by my neck cangue and my side blinkers, all I knew of what Merinda was doin’ to my tit, was the pain as the needle went into the milk-hole in my nipple and then bit into my inner tit as the one needle divided and curved into two to grip inside my tit to hold the ring firm up against the central tip of my huge pink nipple.

 

And I’m feelin’ frightened now.

 

“Okay now Loretta, would you like to fit the nipple-bit to Hotcrack’s left tit please?”

 

And Loretta tries to be gentle insertin’ the dividin’ needle into my left nipple to hold a ring in that nipple. It hurts me all the more for that, and her bein’ inexpert of course, and Nina and Merinda are havin’ to hold tight on the lead-reins fixed to the ‘Os’ either side of my good-girl bitted mouth, as I dance a sexy ‘clip-clop’ with my strong shapely legs on the cobblestone paved stable yard.

 

“You take this lead-rein now please Loretta. Hotcrack seems a bit frisky this mornin’,” says Merinda.

 

And then she continues: “These here are the tit-reins. Now, you’ll see immediately that they are not strictly ‘reins’, as in plural, at all. In reality they are one rein, with dog-leash like clips at either end. This particular one is a trainin’ rein. Real reins vary in length in accordance with whether the pony is to be ridden solo, or to pull cart solo, or to be teamed up with other ponygirls to pull carriage”.

 

“Now, you’ll have to turn around to watch me as I go behind Hotcrack, and feed one dogclipped end through the left side ‘O’ - the ring at one side of her mouth-bit, and….there we go….the other end with dogclip, through the ‘O’ ring at the left side of Hotcrack’s very pretty mouth.”

 

“And finally……..let me get front again……..and finally….darn… Slip that end of the tit-reins through again will you Nina, if’n you can do that and hold Hotcrack steady at the same time sweetheart…”

 

“Thank you Nina. …. Now, and finally we open each dogclip and clip the ends of the tit-reins to the rings in Hotcrack’s nipples….. just like…. yea….. ooops…. no…. got it again…. yea… just like that.”

 

“Now, I think we can take the holdin’ reins offa Hotcrack’s mouth-bit, and we’ll walk her around to teach her, and show you, the tit-reins.”

 

“Let me show you and her whilst she’s stationary first though.”

 

“The principles are simple. It’s two tugs for up, and one tug for down, save turnin’ is multi-tugs” says Merinda.

 

“That’s confusin’ isn’t it? So, let’s go through it step by individual step.”

 

“You don’t need to be harsh. I pull gently but firmly on the right side of the rein, and it lifts Hotcrack’s right tit. I pull on the left side of the rein and it lifts Hotcrack’s left tit.”

 

“With Hotcrack havin’ two tits, one left and one right, that is how you give Hotcrack orders to turn left or right when you’ve already gotten her in motion.”

 

“Only with her tits naturally bouncin’ when she’s in motion, you need to be sure she’s gettin’ the signal and not just experiencin’ her natural bare-tit flip-flops. So, for a right hand turn, you give her right tit a series of pulls right-up like this, so her nipple is pulled right up beyond vertical - back toward her chest and then let go again. See? One, two, three, four, or more…like that….. only not slow like I’ve just done to show you, but quick strong firm but gentle tugs like this: ‘one-two-three-four’ see?”

 

“And you stop the tuggin’ when she’s obeyed and turned enough. And that way she’ll know she has to stop turnin’ in the direction of the tit you are tuggin’, and go straight ahead once again.”

 

“Don’t forget, a ponygirl relies entirely on its driver for instruction. She has been broken to total obedience, and will trot slap bang into a brick wall lessen you instruct her to turn or stop!”

 

“Now: the two tugs versus one business.” Merinda continued as I blushed in deep down shame.

 

“To get Hotcrack to go, it is two swift tugs on both her tits at once, like this. She’ll then walk. Two more swift sharp tugs, and she’ll know she has to trot. Two more, and she’ll obey the order to run”, Merinda explained.

 

“Finally, you need to get her down the gears.”

 

“So, when she’s runnin’, a single swift firm tug on both tits together, will take her back to trot. And another single swift firm tug when she’s trottin’, will take her back to walk. Just like that….see?”

 

“Of course, you won’t necessarily have time to go down the gears one-by-one when you want her to stop. So to stop her at any time and from any pace, walk, trot, or run, you simply pull up both her tits hard and high and hold them hard and high….. like this!” Merinda concluded as she demonstrated with my beautiful breasts.

 

Perhaps you can imagine the effect this was havin’ on me, it was so downright cruel demeanin’ dehumanisin’ and insultin’!

 

No: I was not wild with anger, nor was my spirit so broken I wished I could die.

 

Far from it. Far from either.

 

No: I was blushin’, not with pent up anger, but because at this demonstration of how completely I was to be used and abused as an object, rather than an animal let alone a human girl, my succubus was sassed-up with girl-juice wetter than the Nile delta.

 

And just as this foul use of my body aroused that body to wet my ‘tween legs sluice, so too it whirled my mind so I wondered if’n I was goin’ crazy that this total abuse and vile torture should turn me on so.

……………

 

Next day, extra care was seemin’ly taken with my washin’ and groomin’, and it was about ten of the mornin’ when they put me in my new bridle with the good-girl bit holdin’ my tongue clamped prisoner.

 

And I’m in my arm stretch stocks or cangue holdin’ my arms out cruciform with my pretty hands danglin’ decoratively helpless with my wrists in cuffs at the end of the cangue’s arms. With my good-girl bridle still havin’ side-blinder blinkers soas I can only look straight ahead, and not look down neither, cos of my neck brace holdin’ my chin up.

 

And they’ve checked the nipple-rings were firmly inta my tits.

 

And a brass band strikes up outside after three bangs on a big bass drum that startles me.

 

But they calm me as the band plays practice. And their brass is cold, and squawks outta tune and the music keeps stoppin’ and startin’?

 

And they put somethin’ round my waist and pull it very very tight. It’s a light-blue leather belt I’ve seen as my stable-girls pass it to Merinda. And there are, danglin’-loose, straps front and backa me: danglin’ from this waist belt I heard Merinda call a ‘harness’.

 

One danglin’ strap tickles the valley in my butt’s cheeks. The other danglin’ strap is in fronta my, by now grown very hairy succubus, with my unkempt tight blonde pubic curls bein’ all over my lower belly and the inside tops of my delicious thighs.

 

And they’re bashin’ that bass drum again as the band tunes up once more.

 

And they’re slidin’ two garters up my beautiful left thigh: one to stockin’ top height, ‘ceptin I ain’t wearin’ no stockings of course, and one just above my bent-locked-back-and-thus-dimpled knee.

 

And I can feel somethin’ firm at the side of my left thigh held there by my upper garter, and somethin’ danglin’ side-o’-my-left-knee from my lower garter.

 

And they screw-fit a one-foot-long round cold steel dildo to the strap that is presently ticklin’ my ass.

 

And they screw-fit a one-foot-long round cold steel dildo to the strap that is presently fronta my hairy sluice.

 

And botha these dildos is two-inches across diameter.

 

And they purposely make sure as I see these dildos and how massive they is. And Merinda calls them my ass-bit and my twat-bit.

 

And I’m fightin’ the lead-rein they’re holdin’ me steady with outta fear I can’t take such massive things insidea my body.

 

And they fight to control me. And they put another lead-rein on my mouth-bit and pull both lead-reins hard so it really hurts my trapped tongue. And that forces me to stand still cos I don’t want my tongue hurt no more.

 

And they’re greasin’ the dildos and they’re forcin’ the rear one up my ass and it’s hurtin’ oh god it’s hurtin’ its hurtin’ oh please stop it’s hurtin’ and they put the front one insidea my succubus and they push that up me and I scream.

 

And they join the two straps together. And they fight to pull the back strap through the buckle on the front strap to buckle the straps ‘tween my thighs in my perineum.

 

And it’s hard and they fight me. And the dildos are goin’ right up me, twelve-inches inta me all the way inta me. And I’m wettin’ my beelzebub at front as they get them all the way in and fasten the strap tight-buckled at my perineum to hold them right up hard inta me.

 

And I’ve got twelve-inch of dildo up my ass and twelve-inch of dildo up my succubus. And they’re hurtin’ me! And they’re hurtin’ me! And they’re hurtin’ me! All time constant those massive dildos are hurtin’ me!!

 

And they fit a couplin’ hoop to the strong buckle of the strap ‘tween my wonderful thighs: the strap holdin’ the dildos in me.

 

And the couplin’ clip is firm at its middle to the buckle of the strap holdin’ my asshole and my succubus dildos hard and full up me.

 

And the band outside the stable walls, bashes bass drum again.

 

And I hear lotsa women chattin’ and gigglin’ and high heels a clickin’ as if to a gatherin’.

 

And they put long tit-reins on me, clippin’ them to my nipple-rings: the rings at the ends of my nipple-bits.

 

And I’m ordered walk. And I’m a good girl, so I walk. And as I walk I can feel the dildos rotatin’ forward and back again, with the natural gait of my girl-walk now become my pony walk as my succubus and my ass’ sphincter chew on them.

 

And I’m really terrified as I see they are leadin’ me to a two-wheeled chariot, with huge wood-spoked wood-rimmed rubber-tyred wheels: wheels that mustbe four-foot diameter.

 

And a seat for two is slung over its non-rotatin’ axle ‘tween the massive wheels. And the seat is on cart springs for a comfortable ride for driver and passenger. And there is a long black carriage whip with its handle in an upright tube holder ready for the driver.

 

And the chariot has a single round-profile steel shaft some six-feet from cart to end-of-shaft where there is a couplin’.

 

And the band sounds better as it plays a practice tune almost all through.

 

And they put tall colour-dyed real feathers as plumage in the headband front where it names me ‘Hotcrack’ ‘cross my forehead. And there are three long tall feathers. And the feathers are patriotic red, white, and blue.

 

And they make me turn. And I’m fartin’ with fear past my ass dildo as they fasten the shaft of the cart to the couplin’ fastened to the strap over my perineum, the strap holdin’ the massive dildos in me.

 

And I’m now tethered to the chariot. And I can only look front. And I see that the big doors leadin’ out into New Edingow City’s Central Park are openin’. And I realise it’s Autumn Parade time, hence the band and the crowd a gatherin’.

 

And I feel movement in the shaft of the chariot I’m tethered to. And I realise someone’s gettin’’ in. and I hear voices talkin’ and just know my driver is Captainess Ophelia Snatch, and her passenger the Chiefette of the New Edingow Police herself.

 

And Merinda strokes my mane and tells me to be brave. And she says: “Make New Edingow proud of you Hotcrack”.

 

And Captainess Ophelia Snatch has hold my tit-reins and, with me bein’ six-feet away, is tensionin’ them soas to be sure she is pullin’ my tits to communicate with the pony, that is me pullin’ the chariot.

 

And I’m peein’ out fronta me with fear. And it’s splashin’ on the cobbles of the stable yard.

 

And Captainess Ophelia Snatch tugs both my tits up sharp twice and cracks the carriage whip real expert-like over my head and calls “Gee-Upp!”.

 

And I’m walkin’, I’m walkin’, and I’m pullin’ the chariot like a good little pony.

 

And I’m bein’ headed outta the stable gates.

 

And as I’m walkin’ the strap ‘tween my stupendously powerful thighs is pullin’ fore and back. And the dildos are thus goin’ in and out, and in and out, and in and out, of my lower love orifices.

 

And I’ve pulled the chariot outta the stables’ gates. And the crowd is a cheerin’. And my reins is tugged twice, so my tits are both tugged up twice at once. And the crowd lets out the loudest of loud cheers as I’m now trottin’.

 

And my legs tiptoed on my big toes clamped in my pony shoe irons have never looked longer nor stronger nor shapelier nor sexier. And my butt is rock firm with huge soft side-dimples from my legs bein’ skyscraper high. And my beautiful hazel eyes are sparklin’ as they look obediently at the horizon. And my tits are slappin’ on my chest. And the whip is cracked over my head to remind me that I’m in its reach, and that it can kiss my ass if I don’t be a good girl.

 

And I hear the band now playin’ up fronta marchin’ parade. And behind the band leadin’ the parade marchin’ in their tiptoe booties and their light-blue shirts and no bras and no skirts, with all the paraphernalia on their tight waist belts, and flashin’ their light-blue thongs and their cheeky bare asses as they wiggle with their bare breasts under their shirts rollin’ and rockin’ and jumpin’ to the beat of the march, which they march to the beat of the band, are all of New Edingow’s Girl-Control copettes.

 

And I’m trottin’ up alongside them now towin’ that cart. And the captainess tugs repeat on my left tit with the tit-rein. And I pull the chariot left.

 

And she pulls on my right tit repeat and I pull the chariot right.

 

And she gives a single sharp tug on both my tits. And I slow to a walk.

 

And I’m leadin’ the parade just behind the marchin’ band at a marchin’ pace loose-limbed trot-walk. And my titties are slappin’ my chest, and the dildos are fuckin’ me, in and out, and in and out, and in and outta my love orifices, and rotatin’ back and fore, back and fore, as my asshole and my beelzebub grind on them with my walkin’.

 

And the band is playin’ ‘The Stars and Stripes Forever’.

 

And a loud speaker is goin’ with a famous-on-TV woman givin’ a commentary. And she’s sayin’:

 

“And the honour of leadin’ the traditional spring parade of New Edingow’s finest this year, has switched from the fire service to the New Edingow Police Department.”

 

“It bein’ the NEPD’s turn to front-up this year, it was for them to choose which of their branches should lead the parade.”

 

“And given that honour, the highest honour in the parade, are the beautiful copettes of the Girl-Control Division.”

 

“And we pay homage to these brave copettes who patrol our streets day and night to keep naughty girls in check and maintain the streets for respectable women.”

 

“And the rightfully proudest among these proud girls today, is leadin’ the parade.”

 

“Ladies: let’s hear an extra round of applause for ‘Hotcrack’ the first ponygirl to be provided by a sponsor and to be funded by donation to pull the first Copette-Cart delivered to the Girl-Control Division to add high mobility as a vital aid to the work of the Girl-Control copettes in this fast movin’ post-oil world!”

 

“As you will see this high speed Copette-Cart seats the Girl-Control Captainess of Police, and her boss, the Chiefette of the whole of the New Edingow Police.”

 

“That of course is just for today. After this parade, the Copette-Cart will become an integral part of Girl-Control’s equipment.”

 

“See how well it is designed, and how the beautiful pony has been so well trained to obedience: the beautiful fully trained ponygirl, Hotcrack, havin’ her first outin’ in public here today.”

 

“But see how the carriage whip is still to hand for the driver, if the pony needs to be reminded of her duties. Let us hope for the sake of Hotcrack, that the carriage whip does not have to be used on her today.”

 

And then she seemed to lose track of what she had already said, or else another TV station came online, needin’ her to repeat herself:

 

“And finally, more finally still, give a rousin’ cheer to ‘Hotcrack’ the astoundin’ly beautiful ponygirl leadin’ the parade so deservedly proudly.”

 

“Ladies: Hotcrack was also once a Girl-Control copette. But, in the finest traditions of the all-American copette, though she had left the force, when she heard that there was a cryin’ need for ponygirls to pull the Copette-Carts Girl-Control was to be issued with, now the last of the gas fuelled cars has had to be scrapped, Hotcrack was the very first girl to volunteer to have her spirit broken and be trained as a fully obedient copette-ponygirl.”

 

“Ladies: Hotcrack will continue to serve her full resumed career as a copette; though she will not be paid a wage of course.”

 

“As Hotcrack is a retuned copette, you’ll see she wears her New Edingow Police warrant-shield badge on the dark-blue garter on her magnificent left thigh.”

 

“And also on her fabulous left thigh, below that warrant shield, Hotcrack proudly wears the gold garter this former human won for bravery workin’ undercover when she was a rookie copette.”

 

“Ladies, Hotcrack’ mom and her three very pretty sisters are here among this crowd today to see the daughter and the loveliest of the sisters lead this parade.”

 

I was astounded by this news! Astounded and horrified!! But I realised that, if my true mission to be gotten to the inside of Lola’s mansion soas to rescue the ‘Nubian Nipple’ ruby was to be disguised, reality had to seem. Accordingly, Merinda had had Ophelia Snatch brief my mom and my kid sisters, and give them free front row tickets to the parade.

 

“Wherever you are in this massive audience today ma’am, you have every reason to be the proudest mom in New Edingow, America, or even the Universe, and why not, as your astoundin’ly outstandin’ly lovely daughter, now a fully broken obedient copette-ponygirl, leads this glorious parade.”

 

And even among the noise of the brass band and the clip-clop of my pony hooves, I heard the voices of Lulabell, and Amour, and Capriccio, my three kid-sisters, and I saw their lovely faces, and my mom’s face, and my mom and them wavin’ their little plastic stars ‘n stripes as I trot closer, and they are cheerin’ me, and my mom is cryin’ with pride. And I feel the dark-blue garter on my left thigh gently pressin’ the bottom of the shield-shaped gold-coloured metal New Edingow Police warrant badge onto my firm light-gold-hair decorated smooth thigh flesh. And below it I feel the light pressure of the gold garter on my powerful and curvy left thigh just below my copette’s warrant badge and just above my dimpled knee, with its danglin’ gold medallion swingin’ and tappin’ my gorgeous left knee as I trot-walked obediently pullin’ the Copette-cart, as is to be my pretend destiny from now onwards. And the massive dildos were goin’ in and out, and in and out, and in and out of my love holes, and twistin’ to and fro, and to and fro, insidea me. And as the crowd, and my fellow copettes, and my mom, and my three sisters are cheerin’ me, I am so darned proud!

 

And as I trot-walk closer to my sisters Lulabell, and Amour, and Capriccio, and my proudest of proud proud moms, my very own super-proud mom waves to me and calls out soas I can hear her clear as crystal, even above the noise of the crowd and the band thumpin’ outta stomp march. And as my mom is callin’ as I’m gettin’ closer her and my sisters right by where they can all see me in my bondage with my head in a bridle, and a bit through my mouth, and my tongue lewdly stickin’ outta the middle of that bit, and heavy hooves on my feet, and my pony shoes nailed to my hooves beatin’ out a ‘clip-clop’ ‘clip-clop’ ‘clip-clop’ on the concrete of the road, and my arms hung out like I was crucified, and my bein’ fastened to the shaft of a cart that is fixed to a couplin’ ‘tween my legs so I have to pull it, and my driver havin’ a whip to beat me if’n I don’t do as I’m told, and long reins fixed to my bare tits so my tits can be pulled to tell me to turn right or turn left, or go or stop or walk or trot or run. And I hear my mom call me, her own daughter. Her own daughter tricked whipped deceived whipped imprisoned whipped worked whipped bound whipped broken whipped trained whipped confined in heavy bondage whipped made to do the work of an animal whipped made to pull a cart under threat of bein’ whipped made to wear a bit and hooves or be whipped and the reins fastened to her tits to tell her what to do…the reins on her tits…. the reins on my tits … the ultimate and final dehumanisin’ degradin’ humiliation of my havin’ my breasts fixed to reins so that my breasts are used to signal my orders through my breasts through my beautiful breasts to my body to my brain… my breasts are bein’ used to give orders to my brain, my breasts are fastened to reins so I can be ordered what to do through them pullin’ on my beautiful breasts …. to tell me what to do, what I must obey without question or be whipped. And I’m now passin’ right by close and within full seein’ of my mom and Lulabell, Amour, and Capriccio. And I hear my mom cheerin’ and a callin’ out: “We all love you darlin’! We’re so proud of you my angel! We’re so proud of my little girl leadin’ this parade. Lulabell, and Amour, and Capriccio are so very proud of their beautiful sister! My darlin’ girl! My beautiful daughter! We all love you!! We all love you!! We all love you Hotcrack!!” And I cum!! And I cum!! And I cum!! And I cum!! And I cum!! Right in fronta my mom and my sister Lulabell, and my sister Amour, and my sister Capriccio, I have multi-multi-multi-orgasms in open public and right in fronta my mom and my sisters!! But, though I can clear see that my youngest sister, Capriccio, knows what’s a happenin’ to me and is somehow jealous, I never break step nor show as I’m havin’ massive multi-cums, cos I know I have to obey, because I’m for now the proudest of the New Edingow Police Department Girl-Control Division copette-ponygirls, enjoyin’ ashamed enjoyin’ ashamedly, enjoyin’ enjoyin’ enjoyin’ the massivest of massive massive cums in fronta my mom and my sisters, my sisters and my mom!!

 

[to be continued]


Review This Story || Author: Eve Adorer
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