Summer School & After School: The Ponygirl Omnibus Edition (26 page)

Mine

      
Lucy
was adapting to the routine at the mine. She worked for sometimes as much as
twenty hours a day and slept the rest of the time in the barred cubicle in the
cave. There were other women in similar confinement in the mine, but no one
talked or tried to communicate with her and she was pretty sure that all of the
workers were like her and all were also probably gagged most of the time. It
was a cold winter and eventually it seemed like most of the mining operations,
such as they were, had stopped. When this happened, those who were the actual
miners were locked up and provided with minimal maintenance. The ponies in
transport service did less work because there was less debris to carry down the
mountain and even fewer supplies to take up. Still, discipline had to be
maintained and Lucy saw, heard and participated in enough of this nearly random
violence to keep her head down and do only and exactly what she was told to do.

      
On
occasion, while heading to her cart, she passed a barred gateway that led to
The Pit, a place to avoid at all costs. One day, her boss directed her to go to
the gate with a driver and they stood in front of the massive iron structure
until someone opened it with the squeaking of unoiled hinges and the groans of
two chained women turning a manual windlass that opened and closed the gate.
Another woman with a collar and chains connecting hands, feet and neck, led
them down the path and around a corner, into an open area that provided a
scenic view of a huge open pit where slave miners worked with picks and
shovels. Other slaves loaded handcarts and moved loads of rock up or down the
steep inclined ramps to processing machines that crushed the rock and sent it
away on moving belts. Lucy found it remarkable that there were very few men in
evidence and those who were served as drivers or supervisors to the female
slave labor force.

      
While
the outside weather on the mountain was subzero, the temperature inside the pit
was tropical, which may have been one reason why none of the slaves, miners or
ponies wore any clothing. The men wore minimal loincloths and a pistol belt
with multiple pouches. Lucy and her driver were directed with hand signals to
go to an area littered with rubble and pick up the body of an obviously dead
woman slave. She lay on her stomach with multiple deep whip wounds from neck to
ankles and it appeared that she had been dead for some time. Two slaves
standing by loaded the body into Lucy’s cart and she and the driver started
back up the incline towards the gate. As they approached the closed gateway,
Lucy was astonished to see a beautifully dressed Sasha Marbella hastily emerge
from the gatehouse, black bullwhip in hand. Lucy knew that eye contact was
forbidden, but her peripheral vision told her that Sasha was staring intently
at her and that she signaled the driver to stop the cart. Sasha went back into
the guard shack, had a heated one-way conversation with someone and then
emerged and walked past Lucy without a look or a word, leaving the pit area
through a small personnel gate. As soon as she was gone, the main gate was
creaked open and Lucy left, pulling the cart to a disposal area where other
slaves unceremoniously dumped the body in a heap. Lucy went back to her cell.
That was all the work she did that day or the next.

      
Then
her program changed suddenly. Amid a raging snow storm, she was taken naked,
except for her waist and crotch straps, from her cage and locked into a strange
device that looked somewhat like an upside-down Christian cross with two cross
bars, one at the bottom where her feet were locked into cuffs on the end, and
another shorter bar about two thirds upward where her wrists were locked in
rigid cuffs. At the top was a larger collar cuff. All of the cuffs and bars
were permanently welded to the central vertical bar.

      
Locked
into the steel tree frame, she discovered immediately that it brought intense
pain to her back and abdomen while allowing no movement of her arms, head and
legs. Despite the crude simplicity of the contraption, her position was
intolerable and there was nothing she could do about it. She was more helpless
than she had ever been. The old metal and leather gag was put back into her
mouth and she was left sitting hunched over with the device holding her
immobilized until they picked her up and dumped her into the back of a small
van. They chained the metal tree to one side of the van and a cloth hood was
placed over Lucy’s head. She realized that what made this restraint so
uncomfortable was the permanent position of each cuff. Welded to the frame and
tightly enclosing her wrists and ankles, even a minimal shift in body position
brought pain to her trapped limbs. She shifted her ass a bit to ease the strain
on her back, but nothing seemed to help. Then the driver got into the truck and
they started down the winding, icy mountain road with Lucy in great discomfort
in the back. It was difficult going and apparently, based on the driver’s
constant swearing and the lurching of the van, the road was slippery and
dangerous. It was very cold in the van and Lucy shivered, hoping that they
would soon reach shelter or that the driver would direct some of the heater’s
warmth towards her nearly naked captive form.

      
They
arrived at their destination and the driver carried Lucy into a warm building.
He set her down with a rough wooden stool under her ass and left her there.
Eventually, a door opened and she heard what she immediately identified as
Fabian’s voice, speaking to her softly in his perfect stylized German. She felt
his smooth hand and on her shoulder and she involuntarily flinched. Until this
moment, she had only occasionally speculated about Fabian’s possible
involvement in her abduction, but his presence here testified to her earlier
dreaded assumption that he had orchestrated the entire operation.

      
“Hello,
Lucy, my dear. You’re looking well,” Fabian said, his hand moving from her
shoulder to her breast and then to the large metal ring on her left nipple,
which he tugged lightly.

      
Lucy,
by now well acclimated to such handling, remained still in her metal tree
entrapment. Fabian moved behind her and without warning, pulled the stool out
from under her. Lucy fell back, the base of the tree pivoting on the floor.
Fabian reached around her, embracing her chest and holding her to him with one
hand on each cold breast, the nipple rings encircling his index finger on both
hands. Lucy moaned into the gag and turned her collared head one way and then
the other inside the cloth bag.

      
“
Ahhgh
,
Abbbeeennn
.
ittttsss
eeeee
,” she cried.

      
“Oh,
of course, I know it’s you, Lucy. I put you here, more or less, and I am here
to take you somewhere you and I can spend a lot more time together…that is
unless you want to stay here...” Fabian’s soft voice was almost pleading, much
as it had when she resisted his sexual advances. “You do want to get out of
here, don’t you?”

      
“
Essshh
,” Lucy moaned, her mind rushing into a contemplation
of how and why and what had happened.

      
“Good,”
said Fabian, squeezing the breasts he had been refused access to months before,
and allowing his hands to travel down over her now muscular and firm abdomen
and easing one finger under the tight crotch band and into her sex. Lucy
struggled a moment and then, knowing it would make no difference, allowed him to
do as he wished. With one hand in his own crotch and the other jammed beneath
the crotch band and playing with her slowly lubricating sex, Fabian masturbated
himself to a quick and jerking climax, removed his hands and allowed Lucy to
topple over onto the floor. Fabian took a napkin from the table in the room,
cleaned himself and closed his pants, all the while muttering about how they
were going to have a grand time.

      
“I
want you to think about the trip in the tuba case, my dear,” Fabian said, as
Lucy struggled without success to right the tipped over steel tree frame and
find any position more comfortable than the one she was in. “When we leave
here, you will have similar accommodations for the next twenty hours or so.
Perhaps the recollection of your previous traveling arrangements will allow you
to prepare for this journey, which will be your last.”

      
Lucy
instantly recalled the ghastly trip in the case, from the time they took her
down from the wall hook in the train compartment to her eventual arrival at the
Amsterdam warehouse where she was repackaged for her transatlantic trip. The
tuba case was barely large enough to hold her, but the capture team took their
time stuffing her into it, realigning her several times before they found the
best position. When they were done, Lucy was in a balled up posture with her
hands tightly tied behind her, wrists pulled up to a rope collar around her
neck, elbows cruelly bound nearly touching, and multiple lengths of rope from
her arms around her chest above and below her generous breasts. The painful
metal traps had been removed from her tits, but the marks left by those evil
devices remained and were over shadowed by the yards of rope wound around each
breast and strung from her arms across her chest and back again. The thin,
cutting ropes through her cunt were tightened until she was sure she was being
sliced into three pieces. Her legs were pulled up with more rope until her
knees were under her chin and thighs pressed against her compressed and hurting
tits.

      
More
rope went behind her knees and over her back, cinched to the elbow ropes and
then led back over her shoulders before being anchored conveniently around each
already tightly wrapped breast. For diversion, and because they were still an
hour away from the Amsterdam rail terminal, the woman tied each of Lucy’s
fingers with twine and pulled the ends in different directions across her
shoulder blades so that her hands were splayed out like a spider web. They
toyed with various gags until satisfied that very little sound could seep out
from behind the flat, foam filled pad that covered her already well packed
mouth. A multitude of straps held the combination gag in place and anchored an
additional blindfold pad. When they closed the tuba case, Lucy was little more
than a tightly wrapped package stuffed inside the hard case. Breathing holes
were conveniently located near enough to her head to allow air to circulate
inside the case. Lucy was cased and ready to go. The kidnap gang laughed and
drank beer until they rolled into Amsterdam. Now Fabian, the man she had
repeatedly and unsuccessfully sought to use her for his own personal enjoyment,
was back and she knew it was time for payback.

 
Band

      
Bibi
, all 56.24 kg of her, was learning to dance…again. But
she wasn’t much good at it and her three captors were bored. The day before,
they pulled her out of the barred metal cage where she was kept handcuffed and
allowed her to dress in her skintight, Lycra body suit. They photographed her
in various bondage positions, slowly destroying the suit as they cut and ripped
holes for first her nipples, then her entire breasts and finally her sex. The
photos and videos of the tall, busty blond, suspended from the high rafters of
the windmill basement would have made an excellent streaming on-line show or a
more than hour long DVD.

      
Facing
the stone floor with her arms and legs bent backwards towards the ceiling,
Bibi
was not cooperative in this situation, so cooperation
was encouraged with an electrical prod and
Bibi
soon
became docile. They tied her with ropes from wrists, ankles and a waist rope
pulled back through her sex and connected to the high pulleys. Putting
different tension on different ropes brought different pained responses.

      
Her
captors lubricated their entertainment with plenty of Dutch beer and
occasionally poured the foamy liquid over
Bibi
,
working the beer into her open mouth and around the rope through her crotch.
   
Eventually, more or less drunk and
dissatisfied with this suspension, they lowered her to the floor, bound her
elbows together and then arranged a more complex suspension position with ropes
from the back of the gag rope, her elbows, wrists, crotch and ankles. She swung
by these six taut lines, the rope cleave gag in her stretched and open mouth,
while they worked over her buttocks, thighs and back with a series of paddles,
whips and canes.
Bibi
screamed through the rope gag
and they delightedly recorded her pleas and cries. When the tormentors finally
passed out, they left her hanging until late at night when they finally cut her
down, pulled her ankles up to her wrists and left her in a hog-tied bow while
they slept it off. Someone untied her in the early morning and stuffed her into
the cage where she remained until daylight.

      
Today’s
activity was about the same. They took her out of her cage, removed the
handcuffs and shackles and told her to put on the bra and panties she was
forced to shed when she arrived at the windmill. They told her to dance slowly
and erotically while they tape-recorded it all for some unknown later purpose.
They enticed her to dance by firing electronic shock charges into wireless
electrodes taped to her nipples, clit and asshole at random times while
verbally encouraging her to perform an erotic strip tease.

      
“Open
your eyes, damn it,” the man behind the video cam kept shouting while the
others in the room sat and pressed buttons linked to the wireless
shock-generating machine.
Bibi
had strange eyes with
pupils that seemed more like those of a cat than of a human. In her present
state, it did indeed look like they were closed, even if they weren’t. She had
no interest in stripping for anyone, but as an option instead of the shocks,
she slowly slipped the shoulder straps of her bra off and then pulled it down,
revealing her large and perfectly globular breasts.

      
That
got everyone’s attention and for the moment the shocks stopped. A small eagle
tattoo on her left breast got a close-up shot from the video camera man and
then she was pushing down her nylon bikini panties with her thumbs hooked in
the sides and her arms slowly straightening out and the panties moved down her
long, smooth white thighs. As she stepped out of the panties, she stumbled and
fell into a nude heap on the floor. For
Bibi
, that
was enough. She stayed there despite the entreaties of the video crew and
audience. Again, they administered a barrage of electric shocks, but she
refused to stir, moving only her legs and trying with minimal effort to stand
back up. She made a slight effort at first to resume her awkward dance, but as
the shocks increased, she became less and less responsive. Dissatisfied with
her performance, (especially when she collapsed to the floor from too many
shocks at once), they picked her up, locked her hands and ankles in regular
handcuffs and stashed her in a metal discipline box with only her ass and head
sticking out. For further discomfort and punishment, the woman, who had been
encouraging the others to abuse her more, jammed a new plastic phallus up her
ass and another, fatter one into her mouth. She taped the oral plug in place,
sealed
Bibi’s
eyes with more tape and attached a
vibration and retainer arm to the anal probe. To keep her interested, she
clipped two heavy little bells to
Bibi’s
nipples.
They locked the side panel of the box, shut off the lights in the room, bid her
a good night and closed the heavy steel door.

      
Bibi
shuddered and shivered in the box. The bells on her
tits jingled annoyingly. She could not move or change position. Where her head
and ass stuck out through the sides of the box, the rough metal edges cut and
chaffed her skin. Her hands were cuffed behind her and chained to the inside
top of the box, pulling her arms upward and forcing her to bend over, thus
thrusting her ass outwards through the hole in the back of the box. Her head
stuck out of the second hole, a small oval opening in the box front. Viewed
from outside, one saw her taped and sealed head sticking out the front and
facing the floor and her plugged and vibrator-equipped ass sticking out the
back of the box. The side entry to the steel enclosure was locked.

      
She
continued to wonder what the hell had happened. One minute she was walking back
to the car and then, suddenly, without warning, they were upon her. It was an
unfair fight as far as
Bibi
was concerned because the
three attackers had no idea what or who they were dealing with. Three large men
smelling of garlic and beer grabbed her from behind, one clamped his stinking
hand over her mouth and the other two held her arms while forcing her to the
ground. Reacting instinctively to her years of training,
Bibi
went down hard, dragging all three with her, taking them off balance and making
them think that they had already beaten this unsuspecting woman. But, as she
fell,
Bibi
bent her knees and twisted her body to her
left, at the same time rolling fast and bringing up her powerful right arm,
driving her fist into the solar plexus of the man who had been holding her left
arm. She heard the air hiss suddenly out of his lungs. Still turning, she
cocked and kicked her left leg, the hard boot heel driving up and into his
crotch. The man released her and went down.

      
Trying
desperately to hang on to their victim, the other two men were being whirled in
a tight circle as
Bibi
fought from the inside. The
man on her right was now struggling to keep hold of this thrashing, punching,
kicking banshee that they had unknowingly attacked. As he switched his grip
from her right arm to her waist,
Bibi
bent again and
turned further inside him, driving her right thigh and knee upwards into his
exposed crotch, crushing his balls. The man yelled a high pitched scream and
let go, only to get
Bibi’s
clenched right fist in his
face, the middle knuckle of the middle finger, slightly extended and going
directly into his eye. Pain engulfed the second man and he went to the ground,
leaving his remaining cohort to deal with
Bibi
.

      
The
third guy was already at a disadvantage because he and his pals assumed that
they could easily overpower this well-dressed blond who looked like a model.
They foolishly had not planned their attack very well. Before he could gather
his wits and defend himself,
Bibi
delivered a
stunning high kick to his chest, driving him back and into the stone wall that
bordered the walkway behind him, the heel of her leather boot breaking at least
one of his ribs. He moaned and went down on his knees.
Bibi
followed up with a second kick to his jaw and they all heard the bone snap,
putting him out of the fight.

      
By
now, the first guy was back on his feet, still gasping for breath and
Bibi
was backing away, realigning herself to deal with the
next threat. Now
Bibi
was in her element. She brought
up her left leg once again, faking a high kick, but at the last moment dropped
the leg, went to her knee and straight-arm punched him in the left kidney. As
the man retreated, staggering from the kidney punch,
Bibi
followed, kicking him again with a telling blow to his shoulder, making him
spin around from the impact. He brought up his hands as if he wanted no more, but
Bibi
was having none of it. She followed through with
a left hook to the eye and as the man’s head snapped back, chopped his Adam’s
apple with the callus hardened edge of her right. Now all three attackers were
on the ground, moaning and begging for mercy.
Bibi
whirled away and backed off, facing the jumbled heap of three stunned men. That
was when everything went black. She felt the impact of a hard blow to the back
of her head and that was all. No pain, just a sudden blackout.

      
The
next time she was conscious she was spread eagle, naked, with her bare butt
pressed against a cold cement wall, sturdy metal clamps holding her wrists,
arms, knees and ankles in a fixed and wide spread position. They had taken all
of her clothing and her watch. It was the loss of the watch that really made
her mad. Her head was tightly sealed in a leather hood with a soft leather ball
gag stuffed into her mouth. She heard some faint sounds, but could neither
speak nor see. As she tried to grasp what was happening, someone was adjusting
yet another clamp around her neck, over the bottom of the hood. When this was
locked, she was totally immobilized, clinging to the wall like a spider. She
could flex her fingers and toes, but nothing else moved. The fastenings were
such that she was suspended above the floor so that her weight was distributed
among the multiple clamps. How long she hung there was not clear, because she
was in and out of consciousness, perhaps from the residue of whatever drug they
had used to initially subdue her in the alley outside the truck rental office.

      
Whether
she had actually hit a hidden nerve in her more or less random search was a big
question in her mind. Had she accidentally discovered some connection to Lucy’s
disappearance or, more likely, she thought, had she just stumbled into
something else even more sinister? While the truck rental firm had seemed
marginally legitimate, she saw only a few small vans in the parking area and
the office did not look like it was doing a lot of business. The woman clerk
had said she had no records of rentals from the time period in question, but
seemed a bit nervous when
Bibi
told her that she was
investigating a kidnapping and showed her Lucy’s photo.

      
In
any case,
Bibi
, never having been in such restraint
before, wondered why the elaborate bondage and how long they were planning to
keep her in it. In one dark corner of her mind, she considered that this
shackled to the wall arrangement seemed more like a bondage/sadism scene from a
movie and less like the reaction of some criminals who might be kidnapping
women, stealing trucks or high jacking cargo.

The next thing
she felt was someone or something touching her sex. The touch was soft and
exploratory, and although she could only move her hips a bit, she struggled to
avoid the inevitable penetration by what became a cold, rubber-covered finger
as it pushed her lower lips aside and wiggled slowly into her pussy. The owner
of the finger was obviously skilled and knew what he or she was doing. The
probing continued with more and more contact to her clit while a second and
then a third finger entered and explored her cunt.

      
Bibi
found herself responding to the unwanted and constant
stimulation; first with increased respiration and then with an unconscious and
spontaneous rotation of her hips, grinding her ass into the cold hard wall
behind her, thrusting forward and attempting to engulf the probing hand. Her
breasts rose and fell rapidly while she wiggled and pushed against the tireless
fingers. The person doing this suddenly shifted the hand and, pressing the
thumb against her clit, drove a finger back a bit and entered her ass. The
tension and response from
Bibi
was automatic. She
wailed into the gag hood, banging her head back against the wall, crying out
for some sort of release because the fingers knowingly shifted each time her
breathing and movement seemed to indicate she was nearing an orgasm.
Bibi
was now pleading into the soaked leather plug in her
mouth, pleading for whomever was doing this to her to bring her off, to finish
it, to give her something, anything to complete the continuing elevation of her
senses. There was a head close to her ear now, and a soft voice, that of a
woman, murmuring into her ear.

      
“Hey,
sweetheart. You want to come, huh? You want to get off?”