Beyond Charybdis (13 page)

She mewled miserably when the woman retracted her latex-sheathed fingers and moved away. Garbled pleas for her not to stop spilled over her bit, the gagging implement rendering her desperate words all but incoherent. Mina suspected Trisha had fallen into a trap instigated by their owners. The woman was probably there to tease them and test them on how well ingrained they were into the pony caste.

‘Ponies do not speak,' the woman declared. ‘They perform and do as they are told, without question, always.' She smirked, overjoyed to see one of them fail so she could exercise a little dominance; Trisha murmured something in her defence, further compounding her offence.

‘You continue to speak, pony-girl? I was ordered to punish anyone who tried to speak, and I can see I have ample justification in applying the full discipline to you both. Yes, I'm going to make your fellow pony suffer with you. She was good, she didn't speak, but because of you she'll suffer just as terribly as you will.' Leaning down, the woman removed a leaden orb the size of a tennis ball from the box. The globe had a single hoop set upon its surface from which ran a long, slender chain. The links extended for a few yards and then broke into two shorter lengths, both of which culminated in a clover clamp.

‘Now, little pony, I'll escort you to a discipline chamber where you'll be taught the price of disobedience all night long. Won't that make tomorrow's venture fun for you both? A nice night of distress before more exercise.' She chuckled and stepped towards Trisha.

The pony-girl panicked and started bucking, fighting the tether at her collar and kicking wildly to keep the woman away from her, obviously terrified of the clamps in her hands and the burden to which they were connected.

‘Bad pony!' She backed off, and pulling a small tawse from the box thrashed the leather strap against Trisha's cavorting legs. The steady smack of leather rang through the stable accompanied by Trisha's stifled moans of distress as she was thrashed for her defiance. The woman chastised her with vicious strokes to her thighs, stinging the untouched regions again and again until Trisha was rendered a whimpering wreck hanging nearly limp from her collar.

‘Are we done?' the woman demanded coldly, and skimmed the weapon across Trisha's rosy flesh once more. The beaten pony-girl gurgled apathetically. ‘Good.'

Mina was determined to be utterly compliant, for she had no idea what sort of terrible things this woman might do should she follow Trisha's rebellious example. Already she was destined for a night of suffering, and even though she was looking forward to it in a strange way, she did not want to compound her misery. On the other hand, she was curious to be rendered helpless to this beautiful woman's cruel intentions, whatever they were, so the seductive notion of doing as Trisha had done crept temptingly through Mina's masochistic psyche. The denial of relief in orgasm had left her full of a dangerous hunger, one that was threatening to eclipse her reason and making her seek that which she might not be able to endure. But right now she did not care if she could endure it or not; she wanted to be tied, bound and punished, helpless to the woman's vicious ministrations.

‘Now keep still or I'll beat you some more, pony-girl.' The blonde slave moved towards her and shoved Trisha's slack legs open. The clamps swung in like steel hawks and snapped to a generous portion of flesh, taking her labia in their firm jaws and holding tight. The application of the devices made Trisha jerk upright and whimper in distress as the compression to her most tender parts continued unabated as her reins were removed, leaving her free of the wall anchor.

‘You can walk to the chamber now,
pony
.' Her tormentor flashed the tawse across Trisha's well-chastised bottom.

Gurgling deep in her throat from the pain of the clamps, she lurched forward, only to have the chain snap taut and tug at the heavy burden trailing behind her. Trembling with the effort she managed to drag the heavy orb after her, the metal globe moving slowly as she towed it with her sex, the squeeze of the clamps increased by the pull on the chain. Whimpering in torment, she gradually made her way to the door, each step a hell of suffering monitored by the jubilant blonde slave.

‘Watch this well, pony, because you're next,' the woman warned Mina. ‘Come on you,' she barked at Trisha, ‘I haven't got all night.'

The scraping of the metal ball faded along with the sound of uneven hoof beats as Trisha forced herself out into the corridor and to some unknown arena of chastisement. The time during which Mina awaited the return of the woman was long and full of angst as she wondered what was going to be done to her. And what psychological effect would the discipline have on her afterwards? Would the woman push her beyond her ability to find pleasure in the pain? Yet whatever was done to her, Mina was confident she would find the strength to relish the ordeal, no matter how humiliating or intensely difficult it proved to be.

Finally, the sound of high heels approached the doorway and the woman reappeared, her eyes glinting sadistically. ‘Mm, that was fun,' she purred, stepping forward with the chain and ball that had been affixed to Trisha's labia. ‘And what's best is that I get to do it all over again now.'

Mina kept still and allowed her legs to be parted, refusing to give the woman cause to inflict additional harm. She stiffened and moaned as the first clamp took hold of her nether lips, and gave a whinny of agony as the second grabbed her tender flesh, wringing the sensation from it as it imparted a deep, arctic throbbing that surged up through her loins.

‘There, now, come along, pony-girl, and let's see how you respond to the treatment I gave your partner.' The woman removed Mina's reins and slapped her rump with the tawse. Mina staggered forward, and gave a yelp as the slack vanished from the chain and the weight suddenly hauled at the clamps clinging to her vulva.

‘That's it, pony, get moving.' She subjected Mina to a hot flash of encouragement across her rear with the tawse. With quaking steps Mina moved towards the door, the weight dragging across the floor pulling at her sex lips and making her shudder with the stress of towing it behind her. The tawse snapped across her bottom yet again, and again, in whimsical strokes that kept her moving at a steady pace.

Gasping and wheezing with the effort, Mina chewed on her bit as her eyes filled with tears, and flowed down her cheeks into her mouth. Trudging drearily onwards, her sex aflame with biting sensations, Mina was abruptly halted by the woman's voice behind her.

‘Hey pony, back here!'

Mina turned to see the woman standing a short distance down the corridor next to one of the doors she had passed. Scowling with irritation she turned around carefully and started back the way she had come, resentfully trekking across ground she had already covered to satisfy the spitefulness of what was in all reality just another slave.

‘There.' She smiled, and opening the door let Mina trudge blindly into darkness. Once the burden of the ball was in the room, the woman closed the door behind her and flicked on the sombre lights, revealing the chamber in all its nebulous glory.

The exact dimensions of the room were lost in the darkness. Only a single spotlight shone from above, firing a stark beam down onto the site of their duel torment, leaving the rest of the chamber draped in shadows. A stone slab evocative of a sarcophagus rose from the centre of the space, a smooth marble table with a hollow indentation, and lying within this shaped trough was Trisha. The sides of the interior groove bore a layer of black latex, the inflatable sheath pumped full of air so it pressed to her body from the sides and against her back from below, holding her body in a pressurised embrace. The top of the table was a glass panel, allowing Mina to see Trisha's body crushed against it, her breasts flattened. It was as though her friend was sealed inside a skin-tight coffin with a glass lid against which she was hopelessly pressed.

The glass tabletop bore several apertures, none of which served any function other than causing further distress to the entombed pony-girl. Abrasive rope wound around her corseted waist and rose between her legs, the chafing length spilling through one hole to rest coiled on the outside of the table unattached to anything.

Two more holes were drilled through the glass at the level of her breasts, letting her nipples peek through, each sensitive teat captured by a clamp from which hung a slack line of cord with identical clamps on the other end, awaiting application somewhere - and Mina knew where.

The last hole in the table was the largest, leaving Trisha's nose and chin exposed, her mouth stretched open, her bit removed so a squat candle might be thrust into her maw. Two small strips of tape ran over her cheeks to hold it in place, the wick as yet unlit.

With Trisha in bondage, her eyes wide with dismay, Mina noticed the other portions of the table that would obviously incorporate her own physique, which would make her and her fellow pony-girl wreak havoc on each other through no fault of their own. Finally, running around Trisha's head were leather trammels, the stern restraints open and waiting.

‘Come on, you,' the woman barked, using the tawse to drive Mina over into the stern light. The clamps were set free and Mina jerked with the sudden detonation as her nerves screeched their protest at having been abused so by the voyage.

Dragged up onto the table, her knees were placed by the uppermost corners and the restraints positioned there were set to her upper calves. Her shins were run parallel down the sides and caught in the fetters, leaving her legs spread wide as she knelt above Trisha's face and the candle, the waxen sceptre aiming frighteningly towards her loins.

Unable to resist, Mina had her collar snagged by the remainder of the crotch rope. Gaining insight she burbled and struggled, trying to free herself as the woman started to forcefully haul at the hemp line. Mina whimpered as she was bent backwards, her spine and neck stretching against corset and collar as the back of her skull was towed down towards Trisha's garrotted vulva. Twisted into an agonising pose, the rope was tied off, leaving Mina and Trisha in a dark predicament.

The spare clamps reached up and around to snap themselves to Mina's nipples where the cord was tightened to a thrumming tension, connecting them both by this mordant towline.

‘Goodnight, girls, sleep tight,' laughed the woman, lighting a match and applying it to the wick. Mina felt the heat swell against her pudenda and inner thighs and she shuddered with calamity, releasing startled and terrified squeals against her bit as she heard the woman walking away. The door slammed shut and the light that dazzled them vanished, leaving them with only the golden aura of the candle as illumination.

The horror of the position became immediately apparent and they knew it would only get worse and worse.

If Mina tried to ease the agonising twist on her back as she was forcibly bent over, she would cause the rope to chew and chafe against Trisha's tender belly. Similarly, any shift of her torso would drag the clamps against both their breasts, escalating the effects with even the slightest twitch of her body, for already even a deep breath lifted her ribs to a degree that applied a marked increase in their travail.

Trisha not only had to endure the compression and complete crushing of her form as well as whatever Mina's plight added to her woe, but also, the candle that would have her jaws pounding with duress was filling with wax and slowly withering in height. Any struggle brought by herself or Mina's fight against her bondage would shake the candle and have it spill its scorching fluids onto her tender lips. And all the while the burning wick was abusing Mina's loins, punishing them with a steady heat that constantly tempted her into trying to evade it, the shift of her body prompting new levels of physical dismay in both of them.

The hours drooled by with lethal sloth, making them wail and quiver, wracked with anguish as they surrendered fully to their ordeal. Mina groaned and moaned as her back continued to bloat with a pulsating strain, her body bellowing for her to straighten as all feeling was driven from her nipples leaving behind only the dull cold throb of the clamps that sent cramping chills throughout her upper body.

The rawness of her hindquarters as they were buffeted by heat became more maddening with each second, the infuriating attack of the torrefying waves hideous in their relentless assault of her.

Seemingly for the balance of the night they were left to the horrible punishment, all time dissolving as the only things they became truly aware of were the various punishing additions to their cruelty-wracked bodies.

When Mina heard the door open, they both instantly ceased the dark grumbling moans that continually poured from their parched throats and listened intently for clues as to who it was. Then the light burst on, blinding them both with its potency.

The sound of heels approached and Mina felt a hand trail along her excruciatingly arched front. ‘Having fun, my dears?' asked the woman, returning to the scene of her crime after numerous hours of this abuse had elapsed. ‘Have you both learnt your lesson?' she continued, coaxing wailing affirmations from Trisha and sobbing agreement from Mina.

‘Good. But you'll have to earn your freedom, and it'll all be up to Mina here,' she added, stepping beside Mina's tear-streaked and flushed face, studying her distress at close range, her eyes having accustomed to the intense glare of the spotlight.