Author Topic: MOST SECRET SOCIETY - The ultimate human pony girl races New  (Read 24045 times)

Offline Regis
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MOST SECRET SOCIETY - The ultimate human pony girl races New
« on: August 08, 2017, 09:40:30 AM »

Most Secret Society
by Regis

Inspired by Martin McRea’s “The Racing of Jayne”, including the central character.

Special credit to Jack Straw for contributing the idea and most of the text for Lindy’s first veterinary examination.

Disclaimer:  This story is for adults (over 18) only.  This is a work of fiction, and is in no way based on fact, on any real people or events, and comes entirely from the imagination of the author.  None of the actions or behaviors of the characters are condoned.  The Society is fictitious, and never existed.  This story is for the entertainment of readers, to stimulate their imaginations but not any such follow-up actions.

The inclusion of youth is also for entertainment of readers, and the author in no way suggests children should ever engage in such activities as are depicted, and that no adult should ever engage in any sexually oriented activity with children.  Ever.


In today’s world not everything is as it seems.  This has been true through the millennia, and will continue to be so as long as mankind exists and takes nourishment.  The desires of men and women of wealth are not for public consumption, so that when a diversion is developed to satiate their appetites, the wealthy do whatever they like under the cloak of total secrecy.

The Most Secret Society has been around for many decades, and has slowly grown and developed in it’s sophistication.  Captains of industry and national leaders exercise their passions in ways unimaginable to the common people.  Following is the story of a remarkable young lady caught up in the sport they have developed for their own amusement.  The sport has, with only minor variations, functioned under the same rules and norms for the last 60 years.  It is time for some serious upgrading, and it is just beginning as the story begins.  It comes into full force, with radical changes, before the story is half way through.

The title says it all.  Ladies, please consider this to be a cautionary tale.


Lindy Lithe Lingus had always been tall for her age, and as her body matured she had developed an outstanding figure and an impressive bosom.  Lindy loved her remarkable breasts, but they were definitely not an asset for her in athletics.  They hurt when they bounced freely, but she got used to it, and the discomfort reminded her she was special.  She had been physically active all her life, and had played both basketball and volleyball in school, usually as one of the top players. 

Her coaches recognized her remarkable tits were a liability in sport, but she was used to them, even as they bounced wildly and sometimes painfully under her tight team jersey.  By the age of 15 she was required to bind them tightly against her chest before dressing for play.  This she liked, because even though their flopping was uncomfortable when she ran or jumped, when they were loose their flopping was a distraction to audience members, and her coaches were adamant she bind them.

When she applied for admission to university, it was the athletic ability of the six-foot blonde beauty that drew attention to her, and gained her entrance.  The admissions officer she met with turned out to be a breast man, and the cleavage she displayed in her low-cut blouse tied up to bare her well-toned midriff didn’t hurt her chances in the least.  Neither did the tiny navy miniskirt or red spike heels she wore, displaying her arched feet, well separated from the miniskirt by her long shapely legs. 

She was a bright student, but her academic record had suffered to some degree because her total dedication to athletics.  She had got past that through her school years, beginning with an enterprising grade 5 teacher, by entertaining the eager penises of teachers and coaches.  She usually serviced them in locker rooms.  When possible, she preferred to visit them in their own homes when their wives were out. 

Lindy liked to keep meticulous records of her activities.  Discretely recorded cell phone videos of her trysts with teachers, passionately grinding groins as she fucked like a mink, ensured she got what she wanted.  Not all of them appreciated her use of the videos, which she posted online from time to time when a few of them refused to give her advanced marks.  One of them, the grade 5 teacher, had committed suicide when his daughters saw the shocking videos of their father in the cloakroom enthusiastically fucking a 10-year-old.  She felt no remorse, as it was his own unsavory actions that brought about his demise.

Her performance on the college entrance exams showed she was capable academically, and after a half hour of systematically coating the admissions officer’s penis with the intimate inner moisture of her vagina and kissing his cum-spurting piss-slit with her eager cervix, taking into her womb everything he had to offer after her personal interview, the college interviewer promptly determined she would make a great addition to the university’s athletics program.  It was too bad they didn’t have a copulation team, as she was an excellent performer.

Lindy was on the pill, and depended on it working.  The last thing she needed was to conceive.  The thought of having a swollen belly was repulsive to her, particularly with it culminating in her being flat on her back, her legs spread while the wiggly little creature that grew within her painfully stretched her vagina to plop out, with a thick pulsing cord joining its navel to her inner plumbing.  God, that was such a disgusting image!

She saw a girl give birth once, when a date surprised her and took her to a bar where there was a mattress at one end of the bar, with dark stains in the middle.  It was normally a fuck pad, where daring girls could show off their wares and entertain studs for the benefit of customers.  This time there was no copulation on the bar; she was going to catch a special show.

She quickly discovered why the pad was stained when she saw excited girls in their early teens with their boyfriends gathered around it.  The out-of-the-way bar on a back street was quietly open to people much too young to drink, but they made an exception, and with innocent young ladies eager to participate, sponsored a cherry-popping show!  One by one the young girls got naked, climbed onto the mattress, and immediately their boyfriend climbed up, pulled out his raging erection and promptly mounted them, with the bar’s photographer recording him victoriously claiming her virginity in a vigorous if painful public fuck.  Girls as young as 11 took part, and the place was sold out every time a defloration show was announced.

The girls squealed with excitement, and let out a sharp scream as her mount’s rigid shaft split open her hymen.  They embraced and kissed with a hug that promised they would remain together for the rest of the evening, or until one of them was distracted by a sexual glance from an enticing stranger.  These were, after all, just teenagers, or nearly so, with raging hormones, hooking up on the bar with a purpose.  It was just a nasty game the young girls lined up to play.

One boy limited his commitment when he brought a second girl to the bar before the display was completed, and put her on the bar as well,  to show these strangers how daring she was willing to be.  The breakup got quite vocal when it turned out the second girl was the first’s best friend.  Neither left as a virgin, but both left with a black eye, scrapes and a nose bleed from the jealous nude fight they used to sort things out.  Their combat proved to be as interesting as the public copulation.

Lindy wanted to leave as the entertainment was about to become grossly obscene, but didn’t want to appear a prude to her hunk of a date. She saw what was coming.  A ripely pregnant 14-year-old red headed cutie with long bangs and a sweeping ponytail was paid $150. In cash to get up on the mattress, completely naked, and knees up, spread her legs wide.  Her bulging pussy had been plucked clean, and stood gaping open, announcing the impending stretching spread for release of her bulging belly’s living content. 

The bartender set ten 2-ounce pony glasses in a row, and poured a strong sweet mint liqueur into each, right to the brim.  The girl took one, sipped it to determine the taste, then threw it back with a single burning gulp.  She replaced the glass, and took up the second, draining it as quickly.  Just like that, the young impromptu entertainer had 4 ounces of strong liquor in her system, with 16 more ounces ready for her.  She would need it all.  All she had to do was perform, and she had every intention to do so.

It took an hour of erotic writhing, moaning and rectal masturbating as well as consuming six more glasses of the mint liqueur for the infant’s head to emerge from the grossly distended cunt of the pretty young intoxicated nude girl.  The teen was very inebriated before her birth canal relaxed enough to allow passage of her load.  Twice Lindy had excused herself to go to the toilet, with the intent of leaving, but both times after vomiting she returned, drawn by the magnet of curiosity, needing to witness the early teen girl’s live birthing show.

She was startled that the intoxicated girl ejected her sprog so quickly.  Once the top of the head appeared, it took only a couple of minutes for the entire head to emerge, and in seconds the infant’s wet body slewed out.  It was a girl, with, as is common, a very large split mound of a cuntlet.  It immediately exercised its lungs with rapid crying, and the bartender, prepared as all bartenders are, handed the girl a large pair of scissors to cut her umbilical cord.

She did it without hesitation, and because of her intoxication she showed no sign of distress.  A waitress scooped up the baby and removed it to Lindy could not imagine where, and the naked star of the show immediately consumed the remaining two glasses of alcohol.  She struggled to her feet, and then collapsed on the dirty mattress, passed out. 

Her legs were still spread, and the patrons enjoyed the clear view of her wide-stretched but now slack vulva slowly contracting.  The alcohol in her system slowed that process, and gave everyone a chance to enjoy the full obscene display of the flower of her young sexmeat.  Two teen boys climbed onto the bar, pulled off their pants and shorts, and got her onto her hands and knees so that they could take turns buggering her.

Lindy was both intrigued and disgusted at what she had witnessed.  Drinks had sold fast as the show had progressed, as they had when the young boys were popping their nude girlfriends to entertain the bar’s patrons.  She guessed that they’d sold more than 5 grand worth of booze in the last hour alone, at $15 a shot.  It was worth it to the customers, for the obscene entertainment they enjoyed.  She watched the bartender carry the limp girl into the back room after the teen boys had filled her colon with warm sticky sperm, and wondered if she needed or would receive any medical attention.  Likely not.

There was no way Lindy ever wanted to have a baby.  A pregnant basketball player would be of no use to the university's women's team, and having a baby would pretty much end any chances she had at a college and sports career.  She kept the phone number of a brothel Madame who took care of her own girls, and made a living on the side doing abortions with a long knitting needle.  She was grateful she never required use of the woman’s questionable services.

Lindy was not a promiscuous girl, but she did love to actively participate in a good rollicking fuck.  The admissions officer’s report, written before he got his pants back on, stated she had good chances of academic success as well as in her contribution to athletics, and in this college it was all about athletics.  It was the ongoing success of their sports programs that brought in the great TV revenues. 

To begin her sports career at college, the tall and athletic Miss Lingus joined the University track and basketball teams.  She excelled at both hurdles and the long jump in track, but her performance on the basketball court suggested she would be of more value to the university if she specialized in that sport.  Track did not bring in the necessary TV funds.

The coach rationalized that her talent would be diluted if she tried to succeed in two such diverse fields.  The college’s basketball team was one that traditionally did well at State level, a team that had also earned regional championships.  Expectations of exceptional athletic performance were high, and Lindy had the balls to elevate the team’s performance.  Her coach provided tutors to keep her abreast of her academic studies. 

She did well in her first year, placing in the top 10 in the league for scoring, and hit her stride as a sophomore, placing in the team’s top 3 for baskets, free throws and field goals.  After an outstanding junior year as both the team’s top scorer and defensive player, she was lured away from the college, passing up on a senior year and graduation in favor of a lucrative semi-pro contract.  It meant giving up her scholarship, but she would earn a good salary as a player, easily enough to pay down her student loans in less than five years.

Now that she was out from the influence of the coaches and trainers on the University basketball program, Lindy proved to be the star of her new team, and although most of the sportscasters had a field day with her full name, placing special emphasis on Lingus, they had to respect the novice athlete’s outstanding performance on the courts.  She soon drew additional attendance at the games, and always gave the audience a great show on the basketball courts.

She excelled in shot making, in aggressive play, confounding the referees and angering rival coaches, and displaying her amazingly shapely legs while providing abundant spread groin glimpses in the ridiculously sparse uniform shorts the team wore.  The amazingly beautiful and sexy Lindy Lithe Lingus was in every way a star.

Unfortunately the professional league was faltering, even after the flagrantly sexualized uniforms the league insisted all team members wear increased television viewing and attendance at games.  Various ploys were employed to hold on to the TV audience, with the introduction of topless triple-D cheerleaders and adapting the bikini bottoms the players wore to insignificant G-strings the girls only reluctantly wore.  They were outstanding only in that they covered nothing.

These new ‘uniforms’ simply consisted of string-thin strips of material in front and back, with the string thin enough to not even cover the heart-shaped patch of pubic hair the girls were required to wear on otherwise clean-shaved pubes.  Their lower lips grasped and hid rather than covered the slender strips.  When they bent forward their rectum was also on display, with the string running across the opening.  The garment displayed so much that soon after their introduction, the network prohibited groin close-ups.

Even displaying the lips of their vaginas on national TV, a totally humiliating league requirement, was not enough to keep audiences, and the networks dropped the league.  It was all about audience ratings, and there was enough free pussy available on the Internet to make the draw marginal. 

In a desperate attempt to rapidly boost local attendance to make up for the lost TV revenues, league management recruited girls who had applied for but not made the college’s wrestling team, as well as with frequent auditions.  They staged bikini-wrestling matches starring these girls, at first at half time, and then extending the breaks between quarters.

A small ring, just a platform with no ropes, was placed at center court, and the time limit for the 1st and 3rd quarter fights was 5 minutes.  Most fights ended off the ring, which was only a platform at center court that was 18 inches high. The half time fight went on for 15 minutes until the girl fights became so popular they were extended to 20 minutes.  Because there was no more TV, the games were considered private, and as such some of the boundaries of taste were suspended in the interests of profit. 

At first, the objective for each bout was to remove the opponent’s bikini, but that was soon changed to making her scream, through squeezing and scratching.  The fans loved it.  After 3 months the girls started the fights naked, so each bout featured flashing cunts and bleeding fighters.  The most popular moves were head and cunt pounding with bare fists.

When one girl refused to scream, they let the fight go on until she was beaten unconscious, with her opponent straddling her, pounding her bare fists into her head.  The organizers had no concerns about protecting the fighters from concussions. What saved the girl’s life is that the woman on top, in a rage, switched to pounding the downed woman’s large breasts.  There is no such thing as a tit concussion, just contusions.

That fight proved to be so popular that from then on a verified knockout was the only acceptable conclusion to a fight.  To increase the sexual visuals and the shrieking screams, the fights soon started with three, not two fighters, lying on their sides in a circle, each with her right fist buried in the vagina of the girl ahead of her before the start to the fight was called.  They started the obscene competition by fist-fucking each other!

All of the participating girls were warned to toughen their vaginas, particularly internally, as the objective of the sport shifted so that it was imperative each girl violently pounded her fist into the pad of the uterus at the back of her opponent’s vagina.  This gave fist fucking a whole new meaning, as the sole objective of the sport became internal injury. 

The fights had now been reduced to direct attacks on the beautiful naked young ladies’ internal reproductive systems.  This kind of obscene sport wasn't available anywhere else, not even on the internet and the fans loved it.  With this change in imperative, there was a surprising shift to far more females than males in the audience.  The promoters were delighted when there grew a lineup of young women who wanted to audition to take part.  They soon had their pick of fit beauties.  This new sport proved to be far more profitable than women’s basketball.

This brutalization of their gonads went on until the girl who was no longer able to endure the pain and gave up, jerked her fist free of the girl ahead of her, screamed and threw her arms wide in a gesture of final submission.  At that point the other two girls would go after her head, bloodying her nose and swelling her eyes closed as they beat her unconscious.  It proved that the fans loved this form of entertainment far more than basketball.

The team owners had to pay the fighting girls well to take part in the obscene violent displays, and the sport became so brutally violent they soon found that only sadomasochistic ladies who were also blatant exhibitionists, and heroine addicts desperate for a quick fix would agree to participate.  But they rationalized that was the way of most violent sports, and allowed things to surge forward.

Some of the team’s players were so sickened by the violent nude fights that they quit the team.  After two years the league folded, and the arena owners and operators staged new events that were simply nude female fight nights, to fill the uncompleted schedule.  They broadened the range of the violence, but Lindy had no interest in that, and lost touch with the management.  It turned out the fans were upset when resuming the game of basketball after a fight break interrupted their enjoyment of the outrageously violent cuntfights.  It was unbelievable what women could be persuaded to do for money and fame, but the fans demanded the operators test and extend that limit.

Mixed tag-team matches were staged in which a pair of nude men was pitted against a pair of naked women.  Because there was a license, these proved to be legal bitch beating bouts, with both women beaten unconscious before the end of a match.  More brutal men were attracted to the sport, mostly from the fight gyms, and were happy to work for free, just for the chance to beat the shit out of beautiful young naked girls. 

The naked young women participating were continually more violently brutalized.  Understandably, the turnover rate was extensive.  Occasionally a girl would not survive her brutal beating.  Curiously, applications to participate increased at the same rate as the violence increased.  The promoters were pleased that beautiful young women would line up to be severely brutalized in nude fights.  They didn’t pretend to understand what motivated women, but they knew how to capitalize on the phenomenon.

A few of the players who lost their jobs when the league shut down were so desperate for money they readily accepted offers to become nude fighters, including two who had quit playing basketball because of the disgusting fights.  They were not capable of doing other kinds of work, having devoted their lives to athletics.  Times were tough, and jobs were hard to come by.  Life was a bitch, and bitches sometimes had to do the unthinkable and become fighting cunts just to get by. 

The promoters did well, and with every night a sellout, cable television began carrying the matches, selling broadcast rights to other cable companies around the world.   That kind of gross obscenity was far below the bar for Lindy.  She would never stoop to that level, not only to appear naked, but also to do harm to other nude females.  It was unthinkable, and she couldn’t understand how other girls could willingly do it.  What had started out as innocent scraps where sometimes breasts were revealed became pure and unadulterated cunt fights.

It had been a huge stretch for her to wear those tiny g-strings on the college team, repeated in the professional league.  Lindy was a good girl, and could not bring herself to do something so low, that could tarnish her reputation.  At the same time, she was hit harder economically than most with the league folding. 

With the cancellation of all remaining regular season games, she lost out on gaining the requisite 3 years of performance statistics that would allow her to move up to the major league.  Scouts had been interested in her, but no professional basketball team would touch her until she accumulated the point standing she would easily have attained had the league continued.  She had no idea how she was going to get along in life, but it appeared that professional basketball was no longer in her future.



Lindy was feeling very despondent, and spent her evenings in a singles bar where she amused herself watching girls and men hooking up.  The bar in the 3 star hotel where she hung out had a very forgiving attitude toward the age of the clients it served, and kept the place acceptable by the pricing on its drinks, which it was happy to serve to girls as young as 13.  That was what drew the men.  With the young girls eager and anxious to hook up, usually for less than the price of a carton of cigarettes, the men paid little attention to Lindy.

She was feeling lonely and despondent, when out of the blue a handsome gentleman in a very expensive Brooks Brothers suit and what had to be $500 shoes approached her and asked her to join her.  She was quite used to men trying to pick her up, to hook up, for a bout of free wild sex, and if they looked all right she would often accept, but this man was somehow different. 

He seemed very nice, and acted the perfect gentleman.  He looked vaguely familiar, and then she remembered having seen him at a few home games sitting in the stands just behind the home team bench.  He had been alone the first time she noticed him, but after that he was usually in the company of a beautiful sophisticated woman. Their seats were quite near the team bench, and Lindy remembered the woman had a refined English accent.  He didn’t seem to be dating her, but rather it was like he was sitting with some kind of business associate.

After introducing himself, Mr. Derrick Crane told her he was a sports fan, and recognized her from the her success on the courts. He gave his condolences on her recent loss of employment, and asked if she had found suitable work.  He told her he was an admirer, a fan of her past team, and complimented her on her athletic ability. 

Lindy blushed, as the 2nd tier women’s basketball league had been anything but famous, and the house was seldom half full, until the TV contract wasn’t renewed, resulting in the filthy sex fights being added.  She was embarrassed just thinking about that vile addition to game nights.  The fights were nothing but a bizarre sideshow, and greatly downgraded her sport.

It was clear he know of her, and of her excellence on the court.  He then mentioned a series of specific outstanding plays she had made, and she was impressed.  This guy wasn’t just blowing steam.  He really was a basketball fan, and he really had enjoyed watching her play.  If he really was nothing more than a dude with a stiff woody to satisfy, which she would certainly consider doing, and was just propositioning her for a one night hookup, he had a most unusual approach.

Mr. Crane also proved to be very direct.  After buying a second round, he asked her if she had ever heard of anything called The Most Secret Society.  She had not, as he well knew.  It was, he said, remarkably secret, which was the key to its success.  It was critical that it operated entirely well below the radar, and that nobody outside its structure knew of it.

He told her there were wonderful opportunities in the Society for athletic women, attractive and open minded women who could take a season or two out, checking out of all other activity, to participate in what he admittedly described as being very risqué sporting activity, requiring excellent female athletes who were also beautiful, as he assure her she was.  She was, he told her, a perfect candidate for the Society’s needs, in his opinion.  He assured her that if she were interested she would find it a highly rewarding sport, and one that would be very financially worthwhile for the right women. 

She was intrigued.  He explained that participation required a full season minimum commitment, shutting off all connections with her regular life for the duration, but for the inconvenience it paid ten times what she had earned on the failed basketball team.  By full season he said it meant 12 months, and that once in, there was no backing out, because of the large investment required to bring her up to speed, in a manner of speaking.

He warned her that the training was rigorous, and rules in the sport were very strictly upheld.  Some of the things asked of her she might find somewhat unpleasant or perhaps embarrassing, but she might also find exciting and fulfilling.  He assured her she would be completely anonymous to people who knew little of either professional or college sports. 

He also underlined that she would not be asked to do anything she wished not to do, and that nothing would ever happen to her without her full consent and cooperation.  According to Derrick Crane, their agreement would be an entirely mutual respect situation, although she would be regularly on display and asked to do things she might consider to be undignified, and often might be required to do other things she would likely consider to be quite naughty, and because of the complete anonymity might enjoy despite that. 

Pushing the edge of normal societal standards was what drove the excitement for most of the young women who participated, and he hoped that she would view the Society’s activities in the same light.  It was all about daring.  He definitely had Lindy’s attention.  As he had observed in her highly aggressive play on the court, she loved risk, and he knew she was unquestionably an exhibitionist.  She would be a perfect fit.

Then the conversation came back to money, and he had Lindy’s full attention.  She had been spending as if she were in the big leagues, and had 4 credit cards maxed out, as well as a big car loan to pay off.  Her apartment was the most expensive she could afford while working, and now she was not.  Things were for her, in brief, quite desperate.

She could use a good income for a few years, if things worked out, and she had no strong ties to keep her from dropping out of the scene for a while, and she was up to making up a good cover story when she dropped back in. 

She was also certain she could handle risqué.  She had not had any problem with the little G-strings the team insisted all players wear, with no cover for her spread vulva during a high kick.  That was just part of changes in the sport, the team owner had told them, necessary to keep the league afloat. 

In fact the very word risqué conjured up an image in her mind of something quite naughty, to use Mr. Crane’s words, and naughty was something she found exciting.  Lindy thought of herself as a ‘today’ girl, and certainly not as a prude.  She might find being naughty quite refreshing, particularly knowing that she was in a venue where she was not recognized by anyone.  She realized she had no idea where the Society would hold its events, or in fact she knew nothing about what they were about.

Although she had always participated in sexual activities, they had always been mainstream, one-on-one, and nothing like what she dreamed of, such as being daring enough to live on the fringe.  In her mind, only prostitutes and addicts lived on the fringe, except perhaps for brief slips, like those young girls she had witnessed being deflowered on a dirty mattress at a bar, simply on a dare, or even that pretty 14-year-old who had, in a moment of weakness and in need of money, performed a live birthing show.  She was sure there must be another way to discover her deepest, most daring dark side.  And now she believed she may have found that other way.
Derrick Crane told her the trial period was 3 weeks, and if she walked away after that time, for whatever reason, she would keep the $10,000 retainer provided to her in advance, just for having been a good sport.  If she met all the requirements, and agreed to continue, it would be by way of an unbreakable full 12-month agreement. 

He again reminded her that although she would be required to perform at an extraordinary level, she was an extraordinary athlete, and nothing would every happen to her without her full consent.  He was looking for a woman with outstanding drive, and who knew how to win.  In this secret sport, winning was the sole objective, and was in itself rewarding.

Should she and her sponsor agree to proceed after the 3-week trial period, and he would act as her sponsor, at the end of 12 months she would be paid tax-free $250,000, and the same for each year she continued, reviewed annually.  Merit points for going beyond what was asked would earn her an additional $5,000 each, and is she became fully committed, the bonuses could accumulate to a considerable sum over the year.

Additional generous bonuses based upon excellent performance could quadruple that amount, and he assured her she had full potential to qualify for all of these bonuses.  That would amount to more than 1 million dollars, tax free, in her bank account for just one year of service.  If she were fully cooperative, Derrick promised her Lindy Lithe Lingus would become a very wealthy woman.  She could bank on that.

Lindy asked for more details about what would be required, but this was nothing but fill; she required no more persuasion.  She was convinced, she was desperate, and she was in.  Derrick Crane simply told her it was mostly about a private and quite stimulating sport featuring beautiful young ladies, one that involved racing and gambling.  He did tell her that his latest hobby was raising high-performance thoroughbreds, and curiously, he depended on high quality women for success. 

He said that although he had been at it for only a brief time, it was proving to be a lucrative investment.  He promised to meet her at the same place at 2 the next afternoon, if she were seriously interested, and let her see for herself.  Derrick Crane told her that if she chose to go forward, it would all fall into place for her quite quickly, and proceeding meant she should be prepared to cut all ties for a year.

Her initial commitment was to tell no one about the arrangement, and if after extensive discussion and a full explanation when they met she were ready to proceed at 2 PM the next day, she would be given on the spot an advance check for $10,000.  It would be hers to keep, regardless.  Lindy tried not to look too enthusiastic, but her heart was pounding.  This very kind gentleman was offering her a way to both make good money with athletics, and greatly reduce her accumulated debt.  What could be better?

What he failed to mention were the full dimensions of how things would unfold, and critical details of what would be expected of her as things moved forward.  This was the kind of thing that required an ongoing progressive revelation, in order to give the recruit time to absorb what was being asked of her.  With so much at stake, it would be unwise to rush the initial preparation and subsequent recruitment of such an excellent candidate. 

It was of course also unnecessary for him to mention that things were dynamic, with the expectations of the Society in flux, and quite certain to change radically in the short term.  Anything he might tell her tomorrow would likely change within weeks of her accepting his offer, and at that point she would not be in a position to change her mind.  Her commitment, once made, would be locked in and irrevocable for a full year. 

What puzzled Lindy most was what made it necessary for this Society Mr. Crane belonged to, to be Most Secret.  It was a very curious name for a large organization of wealthy people, as she assumed it was, from what little of it she knew, to call itself.  It was almost as if it were some kind of code for something that might prove to be sinister.  From what she saw of Mr. Derrick Crane, it was unlikely to be in the least sinister, but a girl couldn’t be too cautious.  The most attractive men in the world could easily prove to be dangerous wolves.

She could never have guessed that she was about to receive and accept an offer to become a human racehorse, soon to do many things she would never imagine she could.  Through a carefully crafted succession of revelation, Lindy was going to willingly consent to becoming a naked horsewoman. 

These were special gorgeous and well-educated women, like her, who willingly performed as animals, naked as the day they were born, flaunting their naked beauty in specially crafted harness and participating in outlandish events, each readily giving her all with the repeated encouragement of a whip.  They were what the refined, sophisticated members she would soon meet called by their own special descriptive name; Lindy would become and be known as an Equestricunt.

End of Part 1


The Board was in the middle of its regional conference, with delegates from the entire Atlantic Region represented.  The country was divided into three regions, with the West, Midwest and Atlantic being the partitions.  The three major Regions include parts of Canada and Mexico as well, although there are only about a dozen members with livestock in each of those countries. 

The Atlantic Region includes six Canadian delegates from the Toronto area and five from Montreal.  The West has three members from the Vancouver Society, and the Mexican operations contribute six delegates each to the Midwest and West regions.  The vast majority of members were Americans.

The Most Secret Society had operated below the radar for nearly 6 decades, establishing international connections with other like-minded groups, and was now looking at how it might expand its mandate without attracting undue attention.  Regional Boards across the country were meeting that same weekend in Denver and Houston, and all had the same agenda. 

In their 57th year, the members felt an urge to update their original procedures and standards, and to introduce new, more stimulating ideas and processes, integrating some of the far more extensive, daring exploitation of the women they obtained.  They also wanted to amend the kind of agreements they entered into with the girls, which they felt were far to accommodating to the women’s wishes, shifting the balance of benefit in their own favor.

Although they all had their own ideas on how their operation could be safely and quietly expanded, the common thread among groups was to add another category to the ladies who participated in their sports.  The entire operation had grown out of the weekend hobbyists who liked to take willing women out into quiet forested areas, partially undress them, provide them with very high heeled boots, bind their arms in various ways, harness them, and attach them to carts or saddle them. 

Such ladies who agreed to participate with the amateur fanatics were known among amateur enthusiasts as Pony Girls.  It was all good clean fun, with seldom any sex involved, and the female participants mainly came from the lower middle class.  Most were blue-collar workers, pretty but with little education and many carrying too much body fat.  That kind of figure is often popular among the lower middle class, but unseemly among educated people.

These amateur Pony Girl fans were people who liked to exercise total control over women, and by stripping and binding their volunteer ladies, and then have them willingly behave as domesticated animals, they somehow felt a basic need to impose their power and control over inferiors such as bound ladies was satisfied.

Wealthy people, who were renown for their love of equestrian sports, soon caught on to this version, and embraced it, but took the activity upscale, using much more attractive, educated women.  All use of clothing was abandoned.  Full nudity was a must.  They shifted the now naked harnessed honeys from passive to highly active, well-trained roles.  Because they had the resources, the wealthy Society members soon established estates, resorts and schools for Pony Girls.

 Although, like the amateurs that started the phenomenon, they too began with weekend excursions with volunteer females, but soon developed contracts under which the ladies were withdrawn from society for the duration of their participation contract, and if they agreed to it, underwent some basic though fully reversible piercings, adding body metal to enhance their appearance, controllability, and in some cases, level of performance.

Craftspeople, blacksmiths, skilled technicians from body piercing studios, trainers and jockeys were employed, and instead of visits on weekends, the ladies resided at the facilities, training daily, developing close relationships with their trainers.  What had begun as a bizarre sexual fetish pastime soon transitioned into a highly erotic sport.

Equestricunt racing was an amusing though necessarily very secretive gambling sport for extremely wealthy families who, in the eyes of the contracted women, had far too much wealth, power, and time on their hands.  The carefully recruited young athletic beauties literally became human racehorses who lived, for the duration of their one-year contract, in stables in a specially built human livestock barn.

The Most Secret Society had after more than 57 years of operating as a cooperative, reached the point that they were ready to look at more permanent arrangements for some of the ladies participating, reducing their rights, and allowing for less restriction on how severely they treated some of their stock.  It had taken all of this time to move to a wish to incorporate some level of punitive sadism into the use of the ladies.

Anticipated changes included dropping the requirement to reverse the effects of deep piercing and other enhancing modifications to their bodies, particularly to the ladies’ breasts and genitalia. These were simply in discussion at this point, and would not take forward the process of gaining acceptance by new recruits, meaning the recruiting process would also require amendment.

“The two classes of young women we recruit don’t entirely fit all of our growing needs,” said the Chairwoman of the Board, Mrs. Lillian Richardson, dowager widow of the late magnate and industrialist A.J. Richardson, who had made his fortune in saddle and harness making, and expanded and diversified with the manufacture of a very successful line of automatic combat rifles.

His weapons were capable of firing hundreds of bullets a minute and were affordable by almost anyone.  One of America’s most effective mass killings was pulled of by a pair of fourteen-year-old girls, who in just 3 minutes mowed down 347 shoppers and their families at a farmers market in Minnesota.  The whole place was virtually destroyed by the aggressive assault. 

There were only five survivors, thanks to the design of the powerful killing weapons, and Richard Assault Rifles were used by both of the aggressive children.  Two of the 5 were the young assailants.  They were now in the final year of a three year minim security sentence as minors, about to be released, much to the anger of the population, and of the affected families.

The statue of A.J. in front of his elaborate mausoleum bore the inscription “A Friend to Mankind – The Accuracy and Power of His Killing Weapons Brought Speedy and Humane Death to Countless Thousands of Men, Women and Children who Would Have Otherwise Suffered Lingering, painful and Costly Injuries from Inferior People Killing Products.” 

In finer print was the summary statement “My weapons certainly were instrumental in producing many thousands of deaths around the world for the betterment of mankind, often to quell uprisings, remove undesirables such as political opponents and their families, to obliterate the impoverished, and to clear inhabited areas better suited to industrial applications.  Nobody can prove, beyond reasonable doubt, that I ever directly harmed anyone.”  A.J. was, after all, an honorable man. 

No Richardson-branded goods made it to the marketplace without being extensively tested in both the lab and the field.  Field tests of new weapons were always conducted on families of people likely to disagree with policies of their government.  To ensure total success of these unauthorized tests, towns from which districts to be obliterated were administered were also wiped out, leaving no evidence of the mass executions. 

Richardson frequently invited buyers of his weapons, whether they be governments, agencies or corporations requiring clearances, to participate in sports shooting, stripping people, men, women and children, naked and chasing them into ambushes where heavily armed weapons test experts and kill-fans awaited them.  These test massacres were always done in the interests of the client.

When an international mining company wanted to develop an open pit mine on land in Brazil occupied by 8,000 people living in several aboriginal villages, the Richardson Assault Rifle proved to be the perfect solution to permanently eliminate the problem.  Only the most beautiful women and their girls were harvested for sale to Asian and Arab sex resorts. All others were put to use in the total extermination tests.
A.J.’s hobby was collecting and developing Pony Girls, and he ran a stable of 35 fully trained prancing athletes, wearing custom leather harness over their unobstructed nakedness, leather bindings and restraints developed in his own specialty supply factories, and earning for him a great deal of money. 

His wife and now widow shared his fancy for prancing naked ladies, and she now ran the regional division of the Most Secret Society as Chairwoman, ruling the Society with a very tight and powerful fist.  She had a love-hate relationship with beautiful young women, and was known to string a naked girl up in her private bedroom suite, get into an extremely revealing leather outfit, and flog the poor screaming bitch for an hour at a time. 

It was well known that she disliked restrictions on how much contracted women could be abused, and was determined to bring other sponsors around to her way of thinking.  That was her primary objective in this meeting of sponsors, assembled to produce a report that would feed into an international initiative to effect a worldwide merger.

“The ex-mistresses of some of our members,” the Chairwoman began, “are greatly appreciated when ‘donated’ to the cause, most of them motivated by the slim chance they can return to their position of favor (none of them ever do).  Those we need to address today, however, are the License Girls, those female professionals who have the athletic ability but have reached the point of redundancy in their sport.

“These women are prime candidates because of their inherent competitiveness and their desperate need that requires a quick fix of adrenalin which, through developing anxious situations for them, we so abundantly supply.   These licensed women are the most useful, all of them providing the dressage and racing capability with sufficient training, and as a bonus, they are driven with the motivation to succeed. 

“They are the more desirable creatures, as their background and natural drive to succeed make them much more competitive and useful in our horsewoman sports.  At our advanced level we require people such as retired professional athletes, advancing young athletes we draw into our system with the allure of promised riches, young women laid off who are discouraged in seeking employment, and beautiful young Olympic athletes not prepared or motivated to enter the workforce make ideal Equestricunts, with an excellent work ethic. 

“What I think we need to consider as we alter our recruiting and how enlisted women (I was going to say conscripted, but that’s for a future discussion) are introduced to our sport, is how much more we might be able to alter them physically to make the ladies we engage to be more effective as our human animals. 

If they do not have to be re-introduced into society after as little as a year in our service, why that opens up all kinds of new and exciting possibilities.  If there is no limit to the time they are required to serve, we would have enormously more latitude in our treatment of them.  Their very survival would not have to be part of any agreement.  I quiver just thinking of it!

“Although punishment and physical discipline is applied to both categories to correct them, the carrot of money is at the moment their prime motivator.  We all know that the stern application of punishment to racing nudes is by far the more rewarding for spectators and fanciers.  It is what draws us, and what has most of us yearning for more, so we are continually working to establish a balance. 

“This brings us to the need for a new class of participant, young women who will not only require ongoing series of punishments but who will likely enjoy it, and who will just as likely improve their performance with greater application of physical discipline. Whether or not they enjoy it will be entirely up to them.  I’m not sure that matters, now that I think of it.  Their approval of their treatment and handling need not be a necessary part of any agreements with them.

“What we want to expand into is a new class of girls who will make enduring agreements, possibly even life-long, so that we are less restricted in regard to the alterations and amendments we can make to the natural physique of the dear ladies, with their permission, of course, unless we decide such permission is not constructive.

“This kind of agreement, primarily imposed, would allow us to go far beyond the limitation of maintaining the ability to fully restore them to their original state when they are released back into society, and perhaps eliminate the need for release.  Wouldn’t that be sweet?  Is there any among you who feel eventual release is in the least necessary?

“The monies saved from eliminating payout, although of little impact on our personal wealth, could be better applied to improving facilities, physical and sexual amendments to the women’s bodies, and creating new categories of retained ladies, including removal of age restrictions, introduction of a senior performance category, and so on.

“For example, it would be both useful and amusing to use our skilled craftspeople and blacksmiths to create some attractive beasts of burden, bringing in ladies more sturdy than lean athletes we now utilize for racing, with, for example, a permanent 2 inch by 2 foot long shaft through their breasts by which heavy things can be hauled or pulled.”  There was a stirring as the members envisioned the effect. 

“Stirrup supporting rings to take the weight of a bare-back jockey by the breasts could also be introduced, using thick metal through the bulk of the meat.  Adjustable chains to the stirrups would provide a more interesting way of riding while introducing new sources of pain or at least severe discomfort for the beauties bearing their riders, and racing or doing dressage.

“Such radical and bold body piercing has been done successfully in the past, and new techniques will most certainly ensure our success, should we decide on this course of action.  That kind of physical amendment to the ladies would unfortunately have to be permanent, as the posts would stay securely in place, and therefore the dears could not be on our regular term contracts. 

“We’ll come to that later.  Are there any other suggestions for changes to bring forward before we begin discussing details?”

“I think the pony fanciers are ready for some other forms of titillation, such as perhaps developing resident serving girls!” said an enthusiast.  “We’ve always been very age conscious up to now, and I think we do so to a fault.  We have generally observed the normal restrictions, seldom using girls young enough to still be living with parents.  With our modern recruiting and harvesting techniques, we have the capability to ignore the usual societal restraints and unreasonable biases.

“Nude serving girls, tall and lean, in spike heels, fresh out of high school, and perhaps some recruited from junior high schools, and even perhaps some as young as 8 to 11, always add a delightful atmosphere to a gathering,” he added.  “If we had a stable of these young girls on permanent assignment to us, so to speak, we could also use them at all of our events, races and galas. 

"Because we are totally secret in our activities, how is it necessary we observe standard social norms?  We’re free to use girls of any age as we wish, should we so choose.  Beautiful youth add a delightful ambience to any occasion.  Like our horse girls, we could just straight out own them.

“We could also develop a seraglio of little girls.  Our recruiters have the capability, and we have the space and facilities.  They would require special attention to contain and train properly, but we do have the resources, and I believe the interest as well.  Wouldn’t it be delightful to have little 8-year-old girls, their bladders loaded with white wine, have them piss it into our glasses?
“We’ve had them serve at banquets, but without Pony Girls present, due of course to the need to rigorously maintain our special secret.  If they had binding permanent contracts and lived on premises, so to speak, we could use them indefinitely, and also train them as pony girls as well, as their lovely pretty bodies matured.  Wouldn’t that be special!”

“And what about when they age?” asked a more senior member of the Most Secret Society.  “Their attractiveness fades in a few years, and then we’d be stuck with an unusable inventory of women.”

“Oh, they could be most useful,” came the immediate response.  “With their experience in dressage and on the track, they would be invaluable in passing along the secrets of their success as Pony Girls, both in developing stoicism when being flogged or spurred on with a whiplash to their naked meat, to performing in the ring or in racing. 

“In addition, we could put their experienced and otherwise no longer useful genitalia to work in testing new techniques of controlling a woman by exploiting the various zones of sensitivity in her cunt, as well as to test new more radical forms of piercing for control and groin presentation.  An unsuccessful body modification could render a Pony Girl useless, but if the technique were perfected on a few disposable cunts far less valuable, well, I think you will see my point.”


To be continued . . . . .
« Last Edit: August 06, 2021, 10:32:38 AM by Regis »

Offline Regis
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Re: MOST SECRET SOCIETY - The ultimate pony girl story, taken the distance.
« Reply #1 on: August 08, 2017, 10:18:36 AM »

Although she had some trepidation, Lindy was sufficiently intrigued by the vague proposition from Derrick Crane, and equally enchanted by this suave gentleman who had made the proposal to her, providing compelling reason for her to be back at that bar at 2:00 PM the following day. 

In fact she had turned up 20 minutes early, and took a table for two at which she was highly visible, and one that would permit a discrete conversation.  It was also located where it afforded her the opportunity to show her outstanding figure, with the help of her dress, to its best when Mr. Crane arrived.

At precisely two minutes of 2 Derrick Crane entered the bar, moved directly to her table and joined her.  Instead of sitting across from her, he ordered the same drinks they had enjoyed the previous evening, and then pulled his chair around so that he sat beside her, which was a far more intimate position, as well as permitting more privacy in the ensuing conversation.

“You look ravishing today, Lindy,” he said, complimenting the salmon sheath dress she had chosen for their meeting, that hugged her impressive figure, contained an up-thrust component to lift and display her ample breasts, and was short enough to reveal most of her amazing legs, terminating in 5-inch gold pumps he guessed rightly had cost her a week’s salary. 

Lindy was fully committed to displaying her prime assets, which she believed to be her outstanding legs.  She smiled at him, working hard to show she was in a playful mood.  Experience had taught her that when she could quietly stimulate a firm erection in a man, she would be much more successful in any negotiations. 

Mr. Crane’s attention to her at a time of stress had eased her mind, and was also serving to emboldened her.  Clearly he recognized her as a sexual being, and found her attractive.  She had no experience doing business with Derrick Crane, who could keep his mind focused while allowing his impressive penis the freedom to rise to the occasion.

“Thank you, Mr. Crane,” she responded, saying nothing else.  She was going to let him play all of the cards to open this negotiation.  Lindy adjusted her posture to tease her host with her impressive body, giving him the chance to ogle her impressive, partially exposed breasts.  Their drinks arrived, and the waitress, seeing they wanted privacy, immediately left them alone. It was clear to Lindy the girl assumed she was serving a sugar daddy and his elegant mistress. 

Either that or she assumed Lindy was simply an expensive call girl.  Although neither was the case, both were of no concern to Lindy if the girl believed that was what was going on.  As she thought about it, she realized it would be a compliment to be considered by the experienced waitress to be a woman the self-assured Mr. Derrick Crane would value.

“I’ve brought along a bank draft for $10,000 written in your name, and it is yours without obligation, should you agree to come to my estate, and remain for three weeks, at the end of which you are entirely free to depart, no questions asked, and keep this deposit.  Should we agree to go forward, the next step will be for you to commit for a full year, with no backing out.  It will be an important decision for you.

“Payment of the $250,000 will be made at the completion of that contract, upon your return to society in a year’s time.  Those are the terms.  I hope that’s satisfactory.  You will, of course, have no use for the total sum, or in fact any of your money, prior to the completion of our first agreement, since you will be entirely in the care of your trainer and groomer.”

“The terms are fine,” she conceded, “but I’m not sure what a trainer and groomer have to do with it.”

“Exactly so,” he said.  “Before you take the first step, you should know a bit about what this is all about.  After all, we are talking about a goodly sum of money, and some particular services should be expected for such a fine salary.  There are very wealthy people in some parts of America, and in fact in many other countries as well, who share a particular fantasy, and have for more than half a century brought it to life within our Society.  Have you ever heard of Pony Girls?”

‘Oh God, I see where this is going!’  she thought.  “In fact I have,” she confessed, “I’ve seen them online, both stills and videos.  I must say sometimes they can be quite stimulating, and a bit risqué as well, in some cases.  More often they evoke ideas and feelings, but don’t represent them well.  I think the images I’ve seen are quite amateurish, and don’t display a great deal of imagination.  It’s mostly about binding and posing middle-aged overweight women.  You must have seen some that are much better.”

“I have, but not on the regular websites available to most.  However I think you might be more impressed by the much more stimulating real live Pony Girl competitions and shows.”

“Shows?  I’ve never seen anything like that, but some of the pictures and videos I’ve seen have caught my attention.  Some of the ladies look like they enjoying being in harness, pulling a cart.
And, um, although they seldom have good figures, I’ve seen that some of the women are in topless costumes, with their bare breasts and sometimes even have their bums on display.”

“The images you see are indeed sometimes quite stimulating, and I can assure you that what you see online is a pale shadow of the real thing.  Rank amateurs and their girlfriends produce the materials you have seen, and as you’ve noticed, most of those ladies are neither beautiful nor athletic, and are seldom educated, hardly fit and, to be honest, usually quite unappealing. 

“What you have seen has been some scattered fans of this fantasy phenomenon, with little creative imagination, and fewer resources to bring their fantasies to life.  Instead they present to the world, through their amateur websites, tepid and poorly executed expressions of not fully developed fantasies.

“Our approach in the Society is far more professional.  We use experts to oversee every aspect of the operation.  The women we select to participate are uniformly outstandingly beautiful, extraordinarily fit, and well educated with at least a college degree, as you have.  You may see where I’m going with this.” 

“You want me to be a Pony Girl, and I take it as a compliment,” she said in a matter of fact tone.  That was not at all reflective of her true response.  Her heart was pounding, but she was not going to show him his proposal was exciting her.  “I checked out of university at the beginning of my senior year, in favor of playing professional basketball, and so have no degree.”

“You did not leave for lack of academic ability.  Several of our participants have Masters Degrees, and just in our region we also have in harness a medical doctor and three PhDs.  Bright women can be persuaded to explore and expand their personal boundaries and their capacity for subservience.  It’s a simple conversion to shift a woman’s preference from being dominant to becoming fully submissive.  Both bring sexual satisfaction.

“Should you agree to participate in our Society, you will find yourself to be in excellent company.  Intelligent women seem to have a bent for serving in our exclusive kind of equestrian sport.  They also make extraordinary human horses.  To our benefit, it turns out to be a sport to which brilliant, beautiful and fit women can become addicted.
“One of the top participants in our sport from England is Lady Jayne, who is the current world champion, although not any longer actively participating.  She is here in Atlanta now, and serves several of us sponsors as a consultant and advisor.  You will soon meet her.  I expect it won’t be long before the two of you will be working together.”

This was news Lindy did not expect.  It seemed this organization was as he said very high class and international in scope.  She was surprised she had never heard anything about it.  They were very successful in keeping their Society totally secret.  Not even CNN or the Sports Network knew anything about it.  Neither, it seemed, did pornographers.

“I maintain a small stable of beautiful and very fit girls, each of them committed for a year to their roles, and each of them are very happy to hold their positions.  One is about to renew her contract, and the other two have both indicated they intend to when their current year is up.  I would like you to become my fourth Pony Girl.  All Pony Girls are under the supervision and control of a trainer and groomer.  Each girl has her own trainer, who is also her jockey, and they all share the groomer.

“Your trainer is highly experienced, and will show you everything there is to know about being a high-class show Pony Girl, because of course you will frequently be on display, and will require all of your athleticism to perform, in the manner you will be thoroughly trained to do.” 

Lindy’s mind was quickly absorbing everything this gentleman was saying.  It really was risqué, and she found the very thought if it to be intriguing.  She could imagine herself, partially naked, in harness and pulling a cart.  She wondered what else was involved.  Would her breasts be fully exposed?  It was definitely bizarre, but she could handle that.

“You will be prepared to pull a small cart, or be ridden by a small jockey, and to both race, not unlike a sulky race, and to execute Dressage, which is performing special routines according to Society Standards, in a special Dressage show ring.  It’s quite enchanting.  Do you like to dance?”

“Yes I do.  Is dressage something like dancing?”  She had seen dressage with horses, which is very formal, but could not imagine how it would apply to Pony Girls.  The physiology is entirely wrong.  Women are not built like horses.  She could not picture a woman side-stepping on an angle across a ring, which is the image that came to her.

“It is somewhat,” he replied, “You have the athleticism, balance and flexibility, but having the rhythm skills will make Dressage easier to master.  Our form of Dressage is designed to test the physical capabilities of women.  It can, as you can imagine, be very demanding.  Those who do well have excellent rhythm, great stamina, endurance and in particular an outstanding sense of balance.  You are a great fit for those criteria.”

Lindy was actually starting to get quite interested in the position, aside from the outstanding pay involved.  “I’m guessing that if I’m going to be partly naked, the routine could include some quite naughty moves.  I mean, I could do that.  It’s completely new to me, but hey, I can really get into it, if that’s what you want, that’s what you’re paying me for.”

This one was proving to be everything he hoped for.  “All of the choreography is entirely up to Lady Jayne and your trainer, who will also be your jockey when you race.  He will ride in the cart you pull, and for some events, ride you bareback.” 

She was having some difficulty in picturing and separating the two roles she would play, but thought she should let him get along with his own agenda.  All she could do was learn.  There would be plenty of time later to pick up on the fine details.

“The role of groomer is as it sounds,” Mr. Crane explained, “but also involves quite a bit more.  The groomer is entirely responsible for your total appearance.  You must look immaculate at all times, and have some minor adjustments made to enhance your physical presentation as well as your performance. 

“Both our craftspeople and blacksmith assist the groomer.  All roles are directly connected to the final product, which is a champion Pony Girl.  That is how you earn the big payoff at the end of the year.”

“So our breasts and bums will sometimes be uncovered, like in the pictures and videos I’ve seen, or do the costumes you use provide for some modesty?”

“That’s the part I want you to understand before we go ahead with the trial period.  The amateur women you’ve seen displayed on amateur video online and photos will often expose their breasts and occasionally their buttocks.  At the professional level, the athletic young ladies we engage in our Society display every aspect of their femininity. 

When I spoke a moment ago about women’s sexuality, I meant that their own sexual passions are also explored, as well as their most private assets being displayed.  Fully.  Modesty is not part of it.  Exposure is total.  Your vagina and rectum will be both clean of hair and fully exposed and displayed.  After all, horses don’t wear any clothing at all, do they.

“You need to understand that we require very specific satisfaction for the enormous amount of money we offer.  Any personal privacy is almost completely suspended until your return to society following your service to us at our very secret gatherings and events.  Every part of you is on open display.  In fact, in your role as a horsewoman, to differentiate you from real horses, you will be referred to as an Equestricunt.” 

Lindy was startled at the term, which was self-explanatory, and with a modest blush, she nodded in acceptance.  The money was the persuader.  She was going to be an Equestricunt.  This was going a bit deeper than she expected it to, but for that kind of money she should have expected to make some major concessions.  In her current financial position, she knew she was in no position to negotiate.

At least she was proud, not ashamed of her body.  And this society was totally private and secret.  Nobody she knew would ever see her as she performed naked as a horse.  It would be at private estates, with only the fanciers and sponsors, and perhaps their guests, seeing her perform.

“Only when you defecate will you have privacy.  Usually.  I should let you know that some of the sponsors require their mares to defecate while they perform, but that’s not a requirement on my estate.  The Equestricunts who are required to dump while performing eat carminative antacids to greatly reduce odor, and their solid waste, you’ll excuse my language, but I’m speaking of their shit, is surprisingly inoffensive. 

Lindy was now convinced he was trying to shock her.  If that were true, he was doing a good job of it. 

“When you see it,” he continued, “I’m glad to tell you it will appear to be perfectly natural, because as you know, horses do it all the time, with no restraint.”  She didn’t want to argue with him, but knew she would likely find it to be offensive, just because for a naked woman to shit in public, well, that was a very rude thing for her to do.  When she saw a horse in a parade lift its tail, she always glanced away.  This Most Secret Society was definitely excessive, pushing the outer edge.

“Those of us who fancy this form of hobby invest a great deal of money, and require premium levels of physical display at all times, to enhance our enjoyment of your charms and the stimulation you provide for us.  That is what your huge, and I should remind you, tax-free paycheck, buys us.  I think that sounds quite reasonable, don’t you?”

Lindy hoped her blush was invisible.  “Of course,” she said, “its only reasonable.  We are talking complete, total nudity, showing off everything while among the public, but of course only members of the Society.”

“And their guests,” Derrick added.  “We all like to impress selected guest with our sport.  And some minor enhancements will be performed, but only with your agreement, to make your display of your most intimate parts more visibly accessible to your audience, the viewers.  You will need to look your best and most appealing while in my service.  I notice you like to appear appealing.  I’m glad you understand.”

She was confused by his comment, but did not wish to appear ignorant.  Now he was putting words into her mouth, but she was not far behind his expectations.  This was very serious money, and would require some very serious participation as well as, she was learning, some real compromise in her personal values.  She would have to watch what she agreed to.

Lindy had never addressed or articulated her personal limits, but she was, for this kind of money, willing to explore what those might be, and if necessary extend them somewhat.  The more she thought about it, the more she realized this could become an exciting adventure for her. 

It could give her the chance to discover and possibly stretch her own personal boundaries, something she realized she was quite prepared to do.  After all, the members of the Society were doing that by designing the sport as they had.  Some people liked to talk big about pushing the boundaries, but these people actually did it, big time.

“Let’s take a drive,” he said, “but first, here is the bank draft for your deposit.  I’m sure it will come in quite handy.  It is as good as cash at any bank.”

“Can we swing by my bank on the way?” she asked.  This was money she desperately needed.  Lindy saw that the chance to back out was slipping away, but she was also feeling confident she could meet this handsome man’s expectations.  She was proud of her physique, and from what she had learned, was certain she would make an incredible performing, and later very rich, Pony Girl, or as they called them, Equestricunt.


The meeting was moving along briskly, and now had shifted to anecdotal stories members were sharing.  Another sponsor at the regional meeting who was well traveled spoke up.  “I visited a resort in southern Russia last fall, where the gorgeous creatures, mostly German, French and Italian, had a ring that went in their rectum and came out through their vagina.  It was a spectacular body amendment.”

“Max McConnell in Texas has all 12 of his girls pierced that way,” the Chairwoman said in a bored voice, “and it was by their agreement.  He had to fly them to New York to get it done.  He found a surgeon who did extreme body alterations for ladies working as sex freaks in the sex circus.  They were freaks because he had surgically converted them to be so. 

“Those body alterations he does for the circus are so radical none of them are consensual; the sex circus owner just thinks them up, takes his girls over and gets them done.  His ladies have no choice in the matter.  He has them made into radical sex freaks, and then displays them as such. 

“His biggest hit is converting their breasts to such an enormous sizes they have to carry them in a wheelbarrow. He also turns muscular men into shemales by giving them outrageously large permanent erections and super-sized breasts. He does not operate by our moral standards, and his fans love it.“

A woman contributed: “I don’t know how he is able to keep that bizarre circus operating.  In his concession booth he sells, among other things, erotic whips with a woman’s vagina on the handle.  They’re made of human leather!  I’ve heard when he’s through with a sex entertainer and replaces her, she contributes erotic body parts to his nefarious collection of sexual delights for sale. 

“Word has it he has retained a couple of artisans to create leather goods from the bodies of his discarded performers.  His booth also contains dried and mounted nipples.  He claims all of his clearly identifiable human flesh items were bought from Bushmen in New Guinea.  What makes that unlikely is that the leather is clearly from white women. 

“Unfortunately the women in his circus are mostly of questionable quality.  I’ve learned there is an Austrian who has a Saudi Arab connection who provides him with the high quality woman whips, which he also sells.  He uses white women when he refreshes the stock in his harem.  Most of the Sheik’s stock is European with a few Americans as well.”

“I’ve just obtained one of those beautiful woman-whips from the Austrian,” Derrick volunteered, “they’re very erotic.  I bought it to make use on with a feisty new acquisition, a woman who will be joining my stable shortly.”  And then he was quiet when he realized this was not the time or place to enter that information into their discussion.  Saying so, however, did show his acceptance of such unusual racing equipment, and let the others know that he was in the growth mode.

“Back to my Russia trip;” the previous speaker said, annoyed at the irrelevant interruption, “what amazed me is that it was by this rectal/vaginal groin ring the ladies pulled the cart.  In Russia they sometimes run their Pony Girls in teams, pulling a cart, and when that’s the case the jockeys are full size men.  The ladies have to work much harder. 

“Needless to say, their pierced cunts and rectums bulge severely out to the back when they pull, always providing excellent presentation, and their backs, buttocks and genitalia receive extensive damage from the whips from each race. Those Russian jockeys are merciless with their whips.  The way they so freely abuse them, I’d guess a woman could probably only run 3 or 4 races a year, to allow for healing time.”

“I don’t believe the Russians ever release their mares or even use contracts with them,” another added.  “It appears young ladies are coerced into the role, and have no future use after their enforced life as a Pony Girl.  Their body and genital piercings are generally much more severe, and I must say more erotic than ours, and I would be surprised if much of the damage to their bodies is reversible.  I expect they have a carcass disposal system of some sort.  I’ll look into it.

“The ambience and decorum is of course quite different at the Russian estates.  Often in the heat of the race the men watching will draw their weapons and pump rapidly as the screaming ladies pass, the jockeys’ whips flailing, and these Pony Girl enthusiasts are usually ejaculating wildly before the race is complete.  The Russians know how to deal with excitement.”

“It’s not just in the Russia that the ladies are ‘obtained’ rather than contracted,” another contributed, “but throughout the entire Eastern Block, their horsegirls are essentially sex slaves, and they take it so far as to hang, impale or even whip them to death from time to time as entertainment. 

“I know this for a fact.  They also have no age restrictions on the girls they use.  I attended an event in Romania where 3 very pretty blonde girls in their very early teens, they said obtained in the Netherlands, with perky pointed tits, were hanged naked from an overhead beam as entertainment at the gala dinner.  Hanged dead!  Two were hauled up above the table to slowly strangle as the guests ate, and as a climax to the evening, the third was dropped from a thirty-foot tower. 

“Instead of her neck, the rope was securely wrapped around one leg, and there was a heavy lead ball chained to the other ankle.  She was split right up to her sternum, and the lead ball was draped in her slick viscera.  We don’t even use kids here that often, and never for the rough sports. Although, I must say, I found it to be very entertaining, and I sometimes think we should find a way to include them.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the gathering.

“I don’t know that it would be necessary to kill them, but I think we could benefit from using small boys as the riders, you know, turn them out naked on the back of an Equestricunt or riding in the sulky.  That would cut the weight and up the speed.  Something we might consider at some time is to operate a summer camp for young boys to train them to be jockeys for our horsegirls, instead of using midgets. 

We could start by introducing a kiddie jockey race.  With sharp spurs and wielding a suitable whip, a 90 pound boy could be trained to become very competitive.  I’m thinking that could be a lot of fun!”

“And why not use little girls as jockeys as well?” a woman added.  “They’re lighter than boys of the same age.  By the age of 8 they can also be quite competitive, and would be just as happy to inflict a great deal of lasting damage on their mount, given the chance!  I’m thinking we might have to bring in more mounts.” 

Mrs. Richardson contributed “I understand there could be a move in that direction in the near future, according to the discussions going on at the National level.  The host of our next North American Races mentioned something of the kind when he last visited.  I expect most of us would welcome some refreshing youth introduced to our sport, and I invite submissions for inclusion in our report.”

Returning to the subject at hand, another woman chimed in “I’d like to see some amendments to the race rules, to make the sport more competitive.  Too many of our members develop their Pony Girls more for show than for winning.  As an example, allowing free-for-all whipping of other competitors during a race would certainly improve the performance of many of the “pretty” girls.

“Too many of the cunts who wear our harnesses are selected beauties who are there only for show, and are limited in speed and endurance.  Restraining a jockey to whipping only his own Pony Girl is an idea from the early days when none of the ladies ran particularly fast, and has, I believe, outlived its usefulness.  I would like to see no restriction on the use or design of whips. Making the ladies vulnerable to all passing whips, particularly with a bit of metal woven in, might enhance her performance.”

“And what do you have in mind in that regard?” asked the Chairwoman.

“Well, the lashing of only one’s own Pony Girl by the jockey is quite restrictive, as the jockey is careful not to whip his Equestricunt to the point it inhibits her performance.  On the other hand, he has everything to gain if he can use his whip to curtail the performance of a competitor’s Equestricunt.” 

“Absolutely!” shouted the man beside him.

“We’ve seen the interest added when the jockey lashes at the Pony of his competitor.  It happened twice at the last gala in the final event, and you saw how that altered the performance of both ladies, and in the most positive way.  We could also see some benefit from adding thin strips of metal, woven into the business part of the pony whips. 

“The ladies in harness would become much more focused on performance if some meat were opened on their backs and bottoms.  Open unrestricted whipping rather than slapping bums with a riding crop during a race would certainly improve our enjoyment as spectators.  It also has the potential to dramatically increase the heart rate, blood pressure and level of performance of the Equestricunts in our sport.”

“Here here!” shouted several of the sponsors.

“For another thing, I’d personally like to see the “triple lash” re-instituted, where three strikes along the same line on a Pony Girl’s back opens the skin, sometimes deeply, and produces significant bleeding, and if its a jagged tear, can even open some of her meat.  I don’t think anyone even recalls why it was ever banned in the first place. Such a flailing would, of course, by its very nature generate deep lasting scars, but the ladies could easily and properly call them a mark of honor. 

“I’m certain our members would like to see something much more substantive driving the shrill screams we hear during every race, including the risk of death, which many of us would likely enjoy.  Sometimes I think the competitors are just screaming with excitement, like girls at a stallion sale, and that we are too gentle on the lovely ladies who, during their time with us, are here to serve our pleasure. 

“If we can put them in harms way with substantial risk of injury or worse, it would definitely improve our enjoyment of the events, and as a direct bonus, might attract to our sport some new sponsors from our guests as well.

“I for one would like to see more signs of extensive physical suffering by these luscious fillies during the competitions to earn their enormous pay!  I believe that in the 25 years I’ve been a sponsor, our appetite for more thorough violent treatment of the ladies has grown considerably.  After all, they’re ours, and they’ve all proven they can take it.  We’ve never really tested the full extent to how far we can push them.  I believe that going the distance can only benefit our sport.”

To be continued . . . . .

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Re: MOST SECRET SOCIETY - The ultimate pony girl story, taken the distance.
« Reply #2 on: August 08, 2017, 10:40:26 AM »

Derrick Crane did not take Lindy to his rural estate, as she had expected, but instead, after leaving her bank where the bank draft was deposited, he instructed his chauffer to take them to a small restaurant in a quiet district.  The chauffer knew of the place.  This was not the first such trip.  As they drove he gave her a briefing on how things would unfold.

“Now that you have accepted the deposit and put it into your personal account, you are now officially a Novice.  As an athlete you will of course understand that you will need to pass an extensive physical examination.  We need to be sure that your body is capable of handling the rigorous training regimen we follow. 

“No heart murmurs or clogged arteries, etc.  It would be a shame to spend a lot of time and money preparing you to perform only to have you drop dead in the middle of a workout.  That would never do, whould it.  Having watched you perform on the courts, I highly doubt that’s a possibility.  We just don’t want to take unnecessary chances.”

Lindy’s grin faded as he spoke.  It sounded like he cared more about losing his investment in her than whether she lived!  Derrick Crane paid no attention to the change in her expression, and continued.  “For 3 weeks you will be in the initial stages of becoming a Pony Girl, learning all that is necessary for you to make an informed decision as to whether or not you will proceed, and for us to make an evaluation of whether we will accept you into the fold.  Accepting the generous deposit is all that is needed for you to have expressed full consent.

“You are now in my charge, and will not be returning to your apartment until, at the earliest, should we not both agree for you to proceed, three weeks from now.  My lawyer is as we speak laying the groundwork for your absence, and should we go forward, will terminate you rental agreement and arrange long-term storage for your possessions.   You will want and be able to afford something much more substantial upon your return to your regular life.”

“Going into my apartment is a direct invasion of my privacy,” she said, and immediately recognized she had given up on all privacy, just by accepting the deposit check.

He ignored her show of resistance.  “There is nothing from your apartment you will require until you return to society, whenever you choose that may be.  Once more, let me assure you that no matter how far we proceed during your time with us, everything will be by your expressed consent, and nothing else will ever happen to you.  The only thing that could affect that would be substantial changes to the constitution of the Society.

“We have a stop ahead of us, where I will need you to ask any questions that occur to you.  I will answer honestly anything that you ask.  When we leave, you shall remain silent for the remainder of your stay with us, whenever you are in the presence of Society members.  Otherwise you can chat with the other Pony Girls and with your trainer but not with the craftspeople or your groomer.   Is that understood?”

For the first time Lindy looked somber and contemplative.  Things had moved very fast.  In 15 hours she had gone from complete unawareness of such activities to becoming a prospective Pony Girl, and already had $10,000 in her bank account, enough to pay off all of her credit cards and also take a substantial chunk out of her student loan. 

At this point she knew she had to place her trust in this man who had selected her.  The worst possible scenario could always be the case, but so far everything, as bizarre as it looked, could be legitimate.  She had always wondered how the truly rich lived.  The TV shows that gave a glimpse were so controlled that she was sure the impressions given were far from the reality of it.

It now looked like she was going to get to be part of their world, if only a fringe part, for a short time and in a wholly subservient position.  Doing this would free her from responsibility and worry about money, which would be there in abundance she could only imagine when her year was complete.  Then her mind snapped back to the moment and her situation.

“I have credit cards and bank loans to cover,” she said, “how will I take care of those if I can’t return home?”

“The branch you visited is of a bank whose owner is a Society member, a man who also has a small line of girls in his service, 5, I think.  I believe they are all ex-bank tellers and a personal secretary of his.  I will arrange for the loans and credit card debts to be suspended until you return, even if you choose to stay and that is a few years away, and at that time the balances will be insignificant, with no more accumulated interest, when compared to your personal wealth.  Ah, here we are.”

The limousine pulled up in front of a modest Italian restaurant in a small upscale strip-mall in a residential neighborhood.  Inside he introduced her to a very attractive well-dressed woman who was waiting for them, was already seated at a table, and stood to greet them as they arrived.  It was the woman who had been seated with Derrick Crane at the games he had attended.

“Lindy, I’d like you to meet a Grand Champion Pony Girl.”  He continued to use the softest name for them.  There were much more descriptive names frequently used.  “This is the woman who was known, when competing, as Flame.  Lady Jayne, I’d like you to meet the woman who will be known as Lady Love if she moves past the novice stage to become a filly.  She is an outstanding basketball player, as you’ve seen.  Her name is Lindy Lithe Lingus.” 

Lindy was startled at this news, but was careful not to show any response.  British aristocracy used the title ‘Lady’. She could think of no other context.  The two women greeted each other, and they sat.  Her accent was both refined and British.  A waiter immediately brought them tea, which the woman named Jayne had already ordered, and then he departed.

“Lady Jayne recorded the best time ever in a 1,500 meter race, beating a fantastic runner whose jockey cheated,” Mr. Crane said, “She defeated the cheater anyway.  She was also the very best at Dressage I have ever witnessed.  She and her jockey had the most amazingly creative free-style move, where he dismounted from the cart and, well, you’ll learn about that later. 

“It is my personal wish as your sponsor that you become the next Grand Champion, and that is a real possibility with your positive personality and drive.  You are a top athlete; Lady Jayne was not.  If you complete 4 consecutive one-year contracts, and win a Grand Championship at least twice within that time, I will then double your departing payout.

‘Wow,’ thought Lindy, ‘that’s an amazing offer!  This just keeps getting better and better.’  She just smiled at him with a brief but meaningful glance.  This was becoming far more interesting, and potentially profitable.  Real compromise was quickly becoming a definite possibility.

Lady Jayne openly admired Lindy’s physical beauty and excellent body.  She had watched her entrance to the restaurant, but had also attended a basketball game with Derrick Crane, a game in which Lindy was playing, and had a good command of Lindy’s impressive physical potential. 

“I am certain you will do well once you master the basics,” Lady Jayne told her, “and if you accept your role with the drive and determination necessary to become the very best.  It takes a great deal of focus, but I’m sure that’s within your range.  Just forget about the woman you are now, and who you’ve been, and who you will be once you no longer renew your contracts, to be very wealthy, and put all of your attention on gaining remarkable success as a Pony Girl.  You will honor our kind.”

This approach made sense to Lindy, and she was impressed.  Lady Jayne went on to explain the preparations necessary to develop the grit to perform well.  She glossed over some of the low points in a Pony Girl’s life, carefully excluding the frequent stinging kiss of the whip on her naked flesh to enhance her discipline.  She would learn much more of that later. 

Lindy paid close attention to what she was being told, and all of it amazed her.  She was so lucky to have caught Derrick Crane’s attention.  She had no idea such radical entertainment existed, well below the radar, and as her career developed, certainly had laid no plans to enter anything like such a bizarre radical sisterhood, to become a human horse.
When Lady Jayne had completed her introduction to the life of a Pony Girl, Derrick picked up.  “We talked briefly about the need for display of your femininity,” he started.  “The vagina is a remarkable organ, with no two the same, and too often it is, even when a woman is naked, either partly or wholly hidden from sight, due to it’s positioning on the body, buried on the underside of the groin, or on some hidden by a grotesque disgusting growth of pubic hair.  Some women have no idea. 

“That is a circumstance we have been fortunate to correct through training of our women in acceptable grooming and in developing special posture.  Fanciers of Pony Girls are quite interested in enjoying the sight of your most intimate treasures.  They are on the whole very attractive, and if not can easily be mildly reformed to make them so.  Our craftspeople, blacksmith and most of all our groomer address this, with more than a little success.”



The man who had been advocating more severe treatment of the Society’s Equestricunts spoke up again.  “I’m afraid we have all been coddling the dear pretty bitches, being fearful of possible repercussions after they’ve been released back into society.  That’s likely to continue, as long as we keep our promises and continue to release the bitches. 

“I’d suggest that our Most Secret Society will be safer, and our enjoyment increased, if we discontinue the risky release process, entailing our trust that they will keep their mouths closed, and I suggest we might find another, perhaps more entertaining, disposal method.”

Now the Chairwoman pitched in.  “I agree it might be time that we reconsidered the antiquated way we recruit and compensate the delightful bitches.  When or if we alter the cash carrot we dangle, replacing it with a new punishment motivation, which I support, I believe we can make our exciting activities much more attractive to prospective new sponsors, while enhancing our own enjoyment of our erotic sport.”

“In my opinion,” Derrick said, “we will still require intelligent women to get ideal responses, but less bright recruits will likely also respond well to the use of punishment.  Let’s be certain this suggestion is persuasively expressed and headlines our report to the Region.”

“All right, that’s a very constructive suggestion,” the Chairwoman said.  “Now that we have several suggestions, let’s get down to discussion.  I believe my suggestion was first.  I have had a lovely example prepared to demonstrate how a human beast of burden might be presented.  This is a young mare from my own herd, who I discovered in early training to be an outright masochist.  This lovely young cunt has begged me to allow her to both live and die in my service.”

There was a stirring among the members.  After waiting for them to settle, the Chairwoman clicked her fingers and a door opened, through which emerged a trainer, with a leash attached to the leather collar of a 21-year-old pony girl, this one an amazingly beautiful specimen, who had signed a long-term agreement to work as a domestic. 

Through her full breasts, just as the Chairwoman had described, was rooted a 2-foot long pole, two inches in diameter.  From the ends hung a pair of pails, each full of water.  The holes were close enough to the base of the young woman’s full pointed breasts that the effect of the weight was minimal.  Her breasts had swollen to embrace the thick pole, just as her nipples did to hold the thick rings that pierced them. 

The young horsewoman wearing only her breast burden and a pair of dainty horse hoof boots that were, however, more stable and sturdy than those used for racing, made a circuit around the table for inspection.  Curious members tugged at the pole and jiggled the pails to test the sturdiness of this innovative application of impressive breast meat. When they were satisfied the Chairwoman dismissed the young mare with a sharp click of her fingers and a cane across the top of her buttocks, and continued, in support of her presentation.

“This is just one example of what is possible.  Does anyone else have other ideas?”

“Damn,” said one of the pony fanciers, visibly impressed by the repurposing of the woman’s mammary glands, but also challenging.  “As we all know, our charter regulations state clearly that all body modifications must be done without the use of anesthetic.  Can you verify that was the case here?”

“Absolutely,” Mrs. Richardson assured him, “It would cost us our membership in the Society to cheat.  I can also assure you that, with a modification of this magnitude, we have a signed and witnessed agreement on file, including certification that the procedure was done with no anesthetic used. 

“There is no need for us to use expensive drugs when a few heavy straps and buckles are all that are needed for complete restraint.   Besides, there would be no entertainment value in drugging her when I had some members observe the procedure.”  There was no way she was going to give honor to his objection by identifying the alleged witnesses.

“It seems unlikely that any girl would agree to such an extensive body modification without coercion of some sort,” said Derrick Crane, who was in his first year as a pony Girl sponsor, with just 3 ladies on his string.  As a novice owner, he also had the least experience in the group.

“I assure you,” Mrs. Richardson said, “once these young ladies are committed to our sport, which is the only way they will proceed, we purposefully develop them so that they can be easily persuaded to do just about anything to please their sponsor.  You will learn this when you have gained more experience sponsoring ladies.  Without a happy sponsor, a woman has little chance of success as a Pony Girl. 

“The payout at the end of the year is an extremely powerful inducement to perform, and to make the young ladies eager to please us, regardless.  They renew their commitment to us not only out of greed, but also because they steadily become more and more addicted to and even dependent on their role, and everything about it.  That, as you all well know, is what makes our secret sport so delicious.

“Now back to my question; does anyone have other ideas for, shall I say, more permanent stimulating amendments to the delightful bodies of ladies in our service?”

“That sounds to me like a slippery slope,” said a member who was a firm believer and contributor to his Catholic church.  All 25 of the young ladies he sponsored had been personally identified by him, and were recruited from his parish, with the knowledge and assistance of the Priest, who was invited to observe, and usually attended the regional Pony Girl races. 

“A permanent body alteration would require we move to open ended agreements, and this could lead to the demise of our current system.  If that were the case, soon our intake would be under a single binding contract, with any hope of future release not a part of it.  I just don’t see how it could possibly attract the kind of young women we are looking for.”

The Chairwoman responded “Possibly so, but that’s a discussion for another day.  Today I’d like to hear your ideas on changes to the ladies delightful bodies that need not be reversed, but could last a lifetime, with all of that time spent in our service. From what I’ve heard so far today, this is definitely the kind of direction we all wish to take.

“We have here a volunteer willing to undergo any modification, no matter how severe, that might make her more interesting to us.  I’m thinking about an amendment such as rupturing her rectum, I mean making her anal sphincter completely dysfunctional, not these temporary adjustments some of the vets make.  The revision should not be repairable, so that she more nearly resembles a real horse, with her tight bum hole stretched wide open with an internal ring.”

A junior member hesitated.  “Madam Chairwoman, if I might, and with all due respect - the downside to the lifetime commitment is that after the women hit thirty or so, well, they will start to lose their sexual appeal and performance ability, especially with the kind of rough handling you’re proposing.  From that point, they could live another 50 or 60 years, likely with significant disabilities developing.  Are we prepared to pay for the resulting upkeep?”

The Chairwoman’s face had grown steely as the nervous young man gabbled.  Finally she interrupted, tenting her fingers and speaking in a measured tone. 

“The lifetime commitment would be subject to the terms of our revised contract, which our lawyers are presently developing.  The ladies in our service would have nothing to do with it; our lawyers would sign the papers for them.  I’ve seen a draft; it is a quite lengthy document, couched in terms beyond the comprehension level of even the smartest student athlete.  Also, we would have no need for them to live a long and useless life.

“The new agreement stipulates we provide a pretty bitch with food, shelter and medical needs. In return she provides us with developing services, as we see fit, and accepts all risks of employment with us, including injury, dismemberment, and death, and the document releases us from all possible liability should she come to harm. 

“The new document has only a start date, and is open-ended.  In short, she will be committed to us for life, but the actual time span that represents will be entirely within our discretion.  If this goes through, the life span of an Equestricunt will be determined entirely at our pleasure, and she will live only as long as her life has more value to us than her death.”

There was a moment of shocked silence as the Chairwoman’s words sank in.  She was a tough bitch, which was why she was selected for and retained her leadership role. 

“This opens for us the intriguing possibility for us to introduce lethal games and variations of our sport, in which the survival of all competitors is not a given.  Don’t you find it fascinating to imagine races in which we knew for certain a violent “accident” was going to occur, taking the life of a competitor, or perhaps more.”

None of the participants in the meeting was prepared to discuss deadly sports, and there was silence as the dimensions and possibilities of the Chairwoman’s comments sunk in.

And then the room was abuzz, and the ideas came pouring in.  The suggestions ranged from minor adjustments in procedures to radical redesign of the central purpose of the Society.  As they came forward, it became clear the organization was ready for substantial change, and much of it at the expense of the lovely young ladies who were the focus of their activities.

What came forward were ideas for sweeping changes in almost every dimension of the operations.  It was clear that the members were thinking of an irreversible growth mode, now that the Society had matured, and proven it could quietly exist in a world where its behaviors were well outside the norm. 

It was equally clear their expectations were that they were on the verge of a move into a much deeper and exhilarating kind of activity.  The members understood that any changes they made would make it more imperative than ever the Most Secret Society become even more Secret.


Lindy was a little more than concerned about the involvement of a blacksmith in the presentation of her genitals.  What in the world could he be talking about?  She was familiar with piercing, and a few of the girls on her basketball team wore either rings or studs in their nipples, navels and pussies, but a blacksmith?

“I would like you to see a special demonstration of what I’m talking about.  Something you won’t know about is an art show, a living gallery of very specific art, which celebrates modern enhancements to beautiful female bodies, paying particular attention to their delightful genitalia.  To the best of my knowledge, this is the finest living display of such work in the world. 

“The Most Secret Society has developed the art, frequently creating new and intriguing methods of decorating and making more visible what is, in my view, the most interesting part of a woman’s beauty.  We have assembled this display as part of our development of memberships, and also as a training aid for novices, such as you.  The gallery is now open, for an exclusive showing just for you, with a showroom in an appropriately inconspicuous area in this very establishment.  Shall we, ladies?”

They arose, and Jayne led their small party into a private dining alcove.  The wine rack against one wall swung aside, and they entered a room that, by normal assessment, could not exist.  They had in fact moved from the relatively narrow restaurant into the adjacent building, and the temporary room was an unused part of the shop next door, in a pair of side-by-side buildings owned by the Society.

“This is a live exhibition of our Society’s contemporary breast and vagina decoration and display,” Derrick Crane said.  The lights were very low, but Lindy could see that nude women stood in the shadows along the walls on three sides of the room.  In the center was a small stage, and comfortable theater seating for no more than a dozen people.  “Let’s be seated.”

The three took center seats in the front row, and lights came up on the stage area.  A woman climbed three stairs to stage level, and stood before them.  Like the others, she wore only spike heels.  “These women demonstrating for you today are all Pony Girls, and several of us have contributed Equestricunts to this showing.  All three of my girls are here.  You will meet them in person later at my estate.  For now they are here solely for display purposes.

“Society Sponsors here in the Atlanta area have provided all the ladies here today.  In fact, your banker has developed and is sponsor of one of these delightful young women.  As we begin, I think it important to remind you once more that you have no obligation other than, having received the deposit, to remain in our service for three weeks, and of course to take with you to the grave whatever you learn in that time.”

Lindy nodded.  Her eyes were riveted on the naked girl’s breasts.   What she saw stunned her.  The medium sized breasts hosted a pair of bright metal rings at least 2 inches in diameter.  They were well seated through the areola right behind the young woman’s jutting nipples. 

These went far beyond piercings.  The flesh of her breasts had swollen to cling to the rings, making them appear as if they were natural appendages.  Lindy’s eyes darted to see the other women, but the lights were too dim for her to see any detail.  The edges of the room where they stood were nearly black.

“All Pony Girls receive a set of metal rings like these, quite early in their career” Mr. Crane said, either rings or another piercing you’ll see in a minute.  “They are titanium and hollow, so that they are very strong while being lighter than they appear to be.  They are used for either affixing reins or to provide passage of reigns, should another control center be selected.”
Suddenly a cane slapped across the woman’s buttocks, and Lindy saw a very short man, a midget she had not noticed, standing beside the girl, who had wielded it.  In obedient response, as if following a script, the girl bent far forward, causing her breasts to dangle, as did the rings.

“Those are beautiful implants,” she said to Jayne, who smiled in response.  There was real admiration in Lindy’s voice and look.  This one was going to be special.  “Do we get to keep those when we leave?” she asked expectantly.  That question appeared to startle Derrick.

“If you wish,” he replied.  “Most Pony Girls have them removed before they leave, because they would require wearing a special bra to conceal them, but on the other hand, would make you stand out, and be quite a conversation piece.  Their origin, of course, could never be divulged. 

“You will take an oath of silence before you leave, but once you become a Pony Girl, you will want to protect our Society, having been a critical part of it.  You will be one of us, even long after you leave our service, because you will quickly learn that your interests and ours are mutual.”

Another girl climbed onto the stage.  She planted her feet apart, and leaned forward so that her full breasts dangled, swinging by their own weight.  She was harnessed, and the harness startled Lindy.  The girl’s areola bore oval shaped tubes through a piercing, which the flesh of her breast had accepted, clinging to the edges. 

Through these tubes ran her reins, which crossed her ribs below her breasts and wrapped to cross her lower back, then went between her buttocks to attach to rings in her vagina lips.  The reins controlled her movement by sliding through the breast tubes, and pulling on her right or left vagina lip to advise her of her jockey’s wishes!

The lash struck gently against the bottom of the first model’s dangling full breasts, and she stood upright.  Now her hips were at about eye-level to the seated observers, and Lindy’s eyes dropped to her groin.  The nude girl’s spike heels were about a foot apart, enough to make clearly visible a pair of rings dangling from her inner lips, and a third piercing the upper cleft of her vagina, encircling her clitoris.  Lindy gasped at the brazen display.

When the crop struck the girl’s buttocks once more, with more vigor than the stroke to the breasts, it also struck the other woman in the same manner, and they turned and climbed off the platform to resume their places in the dark against the wall, to be promptly replaced by another nude in heels.  This was a more mature woman, who Lindy guessed might be as old as 30.  She turned her back to them, and planted her heels about 2 feet apart. 

She slowly bent at the hip until her torso was parallel to the floor, and by doing so fully revealed her groin.  As was the case with the other girl, her entire groin area was hair-free, with no sign of stubble that shaving produced.  Her pubic mound and the entire groin area were meticulously void of any sign of hair. 

Lindy’s breath caught as she absorbed the sight being so erotically presented.  A 3-inch diameter steel ring pierced the woman’s outer pubic lips!  Beyond it, Lindy could see that her clitoris also bore a ring similar to that on the last girl, as well as a pair of 2-inch rings dangling around her extended nipples.

Now she was beginning to understand the need for a blacksmith.  He was more likely a piercing studio artist.  Whatever the case, the man clearly did quality work.  The woman’s meat bulged out around the ring as it emerged from her vulva, and as she saw the positioning low on the divide, Lindy realized the woman’s love chute was substantially blocked. 

Vaginal sex would not be possible with this large ring in place.  With a shiver, she realized she could wear one of these, but would definitely not want to retain it after her service as a Pony Girl.  The question was, could such a very large piercing ever be reversible, or would she have to always wear it, and give up on having sex (or to wear revealing panties) forever.

“Having that huge ring implanted must be an real experience,” she said in what was clear understatement.  “Even without anesthetic it would be really painful to have done.  I’ll bet you had to strap her down securely to get that big thing into her.”

Both Derrick and Jayne were impressed that she showed no sign shock or of retreat, but instead her mind went to process.  She had no idea of the brownie points she was accumulating, casting herself in a very good light.  There was much more to come.

The next woman up, or girl, rather, in Lindy’s estimation could be no more than 15, and was an athletic beauty.  She faced them, bent her knees slightly with her spike heels planted well apart, and then gradually bent backwards, until she looked like she was about to topple over, but held her severe position.  This put her vagina on full display.  It was an amazing presentation of a highly altered female sex organ.
A slender pin that ran through the base of the stubby clitoris held the hood peeled well back, fully exposing the usually hidden organ, and the female source of erotic stimulation was both enlarged and elevated by a thicker stud between it’s shaft and the top fold of her vulva lips, that wedged it upward and held it elevated from its home.  The erect clitoris, on a girl no more than a juvenile, stood rudely upward nearly an inch, and closely resembled a young boy’s excited little erection.
The delightful cuntal crown bore a gold cap, held firmly in place by a pin that pierced the head of the beautiful youth’s clitoris.  Her love bud was thoroughly decorated in the most stunning manner.  This pretty young girl’s mother would be in total shock to see how her girl was being used and presented.  This showing of a nude juvenile girl, who should have been in school, probably in grade 9, was so outrageous that Lindy realized she was hardly breathing, and her eyes were transfixed.
She felt her vagina moisten, accompanied by a stirring in the pit of her stomach.  This presentation of genital alteration on a girl in her mid-teens was so shocking she was surprised at how stimulating she found it.  She squirmed in her seat, and then crossed her long legs and rocked the upper limb to cause some stimulating friction against her own clitoris.  She had learned early that this was a discrete way for a woman to quietly masturbate.

To be continued . . . . .

Offline Regis
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Re: MOST SECRET SOCIETY - The ultimate pony girl story, taken the distance.
« Reply #3 on: August 08, 2017, 04:02:47 PM »

Derrick Crane gently placed his hand on Lindy’s bare knee.  His warm gentle squeeze was very personal, and firm enough to say he was in total command of the situation.  “That is a gorgeous dress you chose to wear to your introduction.  It has a special feature I particularly like, which is that it clings beautifully with your lovely physical form.

“When a dress clings, it reveals any elastic strap such as you always find along the top of panties, to hold them in place.  Those elastic straps always cause a slight depression in the skin, which will be obvious in a clinging dress such as this well-chosen garment.  You show remarkable taste in presenting yourself. 

“It was immediately clear when I joined you that you have worn no underwear or hose.  Nor is any required.  Your skin is flawless, and should never be covered more than is necessary.  It’s also clear that your pubic hair has been completely removed, except possibly for that enticing little heart-shaped patch all of the ladies on the team display.  I assume you still have it.  That is a very bold kind of statement to make to a new sponsor, particularly in a specialty field such as ours.“

Lindy smiled, pleased with his directness.  She was definitely going to like this man.  Although she regularly worked out to remain fit, she carried just enough fat to provide a voluptuous look to her remarkable body.  She was very proud of how men noticed her, and did whatever she could to encourage their admiration.

“Have you ever been naked in public,” he asked, “other than in the team showers and with sex partners?”

“No,” she replied, “but almost, with those outrageous shorts we had to wear as part of our uniform.  The idea of those is that we were as good as nude wearing those.”  That was most likely not the answer he hoped to hear.  She was sure he meant had she purposefully shown everything by going bare naked in public.  She desperately didn’t want to screw this deal up.

Derrick Crane was very familiar with the highly revealing g-string uniforms the girls had been required to wear.  That was not unusual, because he was a close friend of the team’s owner, and had recommended their use to enhance the experience of team fans and television viewers.  He knew sex sells, and he convinced his drinking friend that revealing the sex organs of female athletes was bound to be a plus.

“Although you have control over what happens to you, from now on you will be assessed for both attitude and obedience.  That submission and agreeable mind-set is what we are paying you so well to display.  You’re going to love this, and I expect you to let that be known by your willing participation in whatever is requested, as required. 

“Since you readily accepted the deposit, I am now, in all regards, your Lord.  All of the Horse Girls are always fully naked, in public or in private, and make it clear they fully accept their role with us.  When you address me, it will always be as My Lord, but you will always be silent except when you are directly addressed and permitted to speak.”

“I understand, My Lord.”  She was surprised that it wasn’t as bad as she had thought it could be.  It did put her under his thumb, and would be a constant reminder of her subjugation.  Derrick was proving to be a considerate man, and she was sure she could handle that.  Being naked in front of him was something she could manage, and would also permit his friends to see her, as long as he was present.

“Good.  I want you to remove your dress and step up onto the stage.  You will keep your heels on for now.  I’m pleased you chose not to wear underwear.  With your lovely figure and smooth skin, any undergarments can only diminish your outstanding appearance and sex appeal.” 

Without hesitation Lindy stood and faced him.  Her new role was as a cunt, and with this man that was not so terrible.  He appreciated her form that she worked so hard to maintain.  She placed her feet apart, and grasped the high hem of the very short sheath, slowly raising it to reveal her own cleanly shaved vagina, with only the tiny heart-shaped puff of hair above her clitoris. 

Every basketball fan who had every watched her team perform was familiar with these little emblems.  If cunt was what turned them on, she’d give them cunt.  She was not in the least ashamed of any part of her remarkable body, not even her most intimate parts.  He could see her vagina and smiled at the sight of it, which satisfied her.  This was going to be very exciting!

Lindy lifted the dress steadily higher, freeing her firm and full D-cup breasts from the dress’s retainers.  The material over her nipples was placed to stimulate them, and they were appropriately erect and hard.  She lifted the tight sheath dress over her head, and then carefully folding the expensive garment, placed it on the empty chair beside the one she had just vacated.  She now wore only her expensive heels.

 Turning, she raised a leg high to place her left foot on the stage, and then demonstrating her athleticism, took all of her weight on that raised leg, and moved up as if she were on a normal step.  This was particularly difficult to do while wearing heels.  She showed the two appraising her she definitely had strong muscular control.  Lady Jayne smiled, knowing this remarkable new recruit was showing off, as if she knew this kind of muscular control would serve her well in Dressage.

Lindy stood beside the naked teen, who was still bent in her full groin-display posture, a position that presented her amazingly decorated vagina to Derrick Crane and Jayne.  Lindy was impressed with the girl’s stamina, as she realized the young girl’s extreme posture must be straining her muscles to the limit. 

“Match the Pony Girl’s display posture,” Derrick said.  “We wish you to properly present to our view your pretty although not yet decorated cunt.  We wish to see how proud you are of your lovely vagina, and how pleased you are to display it to us.

“Yes, my Lord,” she automatically responded.

The diminutive man lashed his crop at her, striking her buttocks with a blow that both stung and surprised her.  “I did not give you permission to speak,” Derrick said.  The midget in whipping her had anticipated Derrick’s response to her speaking out.  Clearly this was not a new activity for the Midget.

‘Damn that hurt,’ she thought, ‘what right does that little prick have to whip me?’   She remained silent, and stood beside the arched-back girl.  She moved as much of her weight as possible to her toes, bent her knees to match the angle of those of the girl, and then gradually leaned back. 

Her muscles tightened to take the unusual distribution of her weight as her shoulders moved over her heels and continued back.  Her neck tightened as she let her head go back, and she felt her full and unsupported breasts bulge out and jut forward with the change in position. 

Her nipples now pointed straight up, and she lowered her head far past the position assumed by the girl, until her face was looking straight down, and continued to lower herself until the tip of her nose brushed the floor.  She had exceeded the strained position of the athletic young girl, who must have been practicing this difficult move for months. 

Lindy was showing off, displaying to her sponsor and the reigning champion Pony Girl the range of her athleticism, and the reason for her attaining outstanding performances as a professional athlete. She was also verifying Derrick Crane’s judgment in recruiting her for this new and exciting opportunity to exhibit her outstanding body and ability with it.

Derrick Crane spoke quietly to Jayne while the young girl and Lindy remained in the exaggerated strained position.  She could not hear what they were saying, but realized she was providing them a view of her cunt she had never presented to anyone before.  These people were special, and it was important to impress them.


Lindy realized they were discussing the appearance and quality of her vagina, which, she was certain, stood open in her strained knees-spread stance.  She was proud of her sex organ, and she gave every stud that ever got his penis into it a great view of it before and after fucking him.

In her view, fucking was what she did to men, never what they did to her.  She was always active, never passive during sex, and took what she wanted from what men had to offer.  She loved sliding her organ onto a firm, rigid shaft until it’s slit on the head kissed her cervix.  Hard.  The longer, thicker and firmer the eager cocks she rode, the better.

And now, for the first time in her life, she felt like she was nothing but a cunt.  Equestricunt was not an inappropriate term for her new role with the Society.  She would have to give up her intellect for a year, make no decisions, and have no opinions.  If she had them, she could not express them.  Lindy was confident she could handle that.

For some reason she could not fathom, the giving up responsibility somehow felt liberating.  From this time forward she was going to be doing precisely as she was told, and bore no responsibility for her actions.  She was property, no longer with the full rights of a woman.  ‘I am now nothing but a cunt,’ she thought quietly, and although she shuddered, it surprised her that the concept was not completely repulsive to her.

Their examination of her genitalia appeared to be the core of their interest in her.  She found it both debasing and somehow exciting.  That completely surprised her.  She was beginning to feel she would enjoy this coming year, for reasons she would never have suspected, and perhaps many more years as well.  Was she really an exhibitionist?  Everything she knew about herself told her that she most certainly was.

“You may stand,” Derrick said as the whip in the hand of the little man gently slapped against her tummy, not what she would call hard but with complete authority.  It also found the stretched tummy of the other girl, which proved to be her instruction to stand.  “Come back and sit beside me,” he said, “and leave your garment on the next chair.”  Lindy stepped down and did as she was told, sitting on Derrick’ left. 

As the girl was returned to stand at the wall and was replaced by another nude woman, Derrick said to Lindy “Slide forward in your seat and lift your nearest leg over mine.”  She did, which once more fully exposed her cunt.  Without hesitation his left hand moved to the rise of her cleanly shaved Mons, to feel the moistness she had generated by her growingly horny state. 

His fingers slid along the expanded and spread lips of her sex-swollen flesh, teasing her clitoris, and then without warning or preparation his middle finger moved below the erect clit and found the opening of her love shaft. Without hesitation he easily and smoothly entered the moist warm portal with two fingers.  He was finger-fucking her!

Lindy was surprised that she thrilled to the uninvited invasion of her most personal physical space.  He was gentle and at the same time in complete control of her.  She was not uncomfortable being controlled; she found it somehow sexually stimulating, and with the impromptu finger fuck, sexual stimulation was entirely appropriate.  His role, in that single gesture, moved well beyond sponsor:  In an unspoken moment and dominant act he was now her owner and master. 

She was now his personal property, and with no further process Lindy was fully committed to do his bidding, regardless of circumstance.  With nothing more than finger-mounting her, Derrick Crane had mastered the beautiful bitch, and taken total control of her life.  She was his.

The woman on the stage, about Lindy’s build and age, had her gorgeous long legs spread and slightly bent and her hips gyrated forward to make optimal presentation of her metal-decorated vagina.  Instead of being seated around it, her clitoris had a ½ inch ring that pierced it, forcing back the hood, and her outer lips stood unnaturally wide open, fully displaying her vestibule, the deep dimple entrance of her urethra, and the moist pink tube of her inner vagina.  This position comprised perfect cunt display and presentation.

The mouth of her moist pink inner shaft stood open in a vertical oval, spread more than an inch wide and two inches high.  Lindy could see that there was a flesh-colored rubber ring mounted inside the inner mouth, holding her vagina wide open with a full view into its depth, providing a surprisingly clear view of the bulge of her uterus at the back of the canal, and the impressive red dimple of her cervix. 

The little puckered sphincter appeared to be painted red.  She had been pierced with rings on her upper inner thighs, which were attached by slender chains to rings piercing her distended inner lips, holding them stretched wide apart.  Lindy had seen this kind of piercing on the faces of Punk and Goth girls, but never on their legs.  This young beauty was indeed on full display.

Derrick continued to probe the inner sanctum of Lindy’s vagina with his active fingers, and she could feel her clitoris actively grow in response to the intimate attention he was giving her.  Derrick nodded to the little man, who was far enough into the light that for the first time Lindy saw was a well-proportioned midget. 

The little man flicked his cane upward between the legs of the nude woman on stage, slapping it against the spread meat of her vagina, and in an automatic obedient response she suddenly started prancing in place, lifting her knees to the level of her navel.  This was no easy task in her 5 inch heels.

“This is a gait you will learn and master, regardless of the position of your torso” Derrick said to Lindy, “It will develop with your Equestricunt training that begins tomorrow.  It is how our Pony Girls generally move, including when they race.  Notice how she keeps her lovely knees apart, to maximize the visibility of her entire groin area. 

We are interested in performance, speed and general athletic ability, but as you can see, Pony Girls are primarily about total physical presentation.  Our Equestricunts must provide total presentation at all times.”  The lash caught the beautiful young woman sharply under her buttocks, and she obediently and promptly pranced off stage.

Her replacement was the most voluptuous woman in the room.  She had full hips, a slightly rounded belly below an hourglass waist, and full breasts with extended ring-pierced aureoles supporting stout and elongated nipples.  Each of these long buds had a small gold cap on it, held in place by a slender gold rod that pierced the nipple. 

Like others, her vulva had undergone extensive piercing and reshaping, but what caught Lindy’s attention was a gold rod extending out of and curving downward from her urethra.  This voluptuous Pony Girl was wearing a stylish catheter, designed as much for display in her cunt as for any functionality.  It was very compelling, and beautiful.  She assumed the bizarre yet stylish device was also fully functional.

Derrick removed his finger from Lindy’s vagina.  “I want you to pull the gold shaft out of her and examine it,” he said.  She removed her leg from crossing his, climbed onto the stage and got onto her knees.  Being careful to leave a clear view of what she was doing for her Lord and Jayne, she grasped the rod and gave it a gentle pull.  It didn’t move. 

The cane suddenly struck the small of her back, and Lindy tried harder.  The elegant brass vagina decoration moved, and with a steady pull she removed it from the cunt of the woman passively standing on display, her hips rolled forward and her spread knees bent, to maximize visibility and accessibility.

Lindy noticed a drop of urine escape the vacated urethra, and then a second, but left that aside, turning her attention to the catheter.  The curved end that had stood out of the woman’s cunt bending downward was about 3 inches long.  From there it was straight for another 3 inches, and then curved upward, in the opposite direction, like a very gentle S.  On the inward end was a tiny ball that was perforated with little holes, which would enable insertion and serve to collect urine to pass outward.

“Try in on,” Derrick said to her, “to see how it fits.”

‘My God,’ Lindy thought,’ this thing is filthy, its just come out of the bladder of another woman, filled with her urine!’  She fought her instincts, spread her legs, thrust her hips forward and pulled open her vestibule with her fingers.  Her own moisture would now serve her well. 

She was blessed with an opening to her urethra that stood slightly out, like a pair of pursed lips, not unlike the ring of a straining rectum, so that when she peed she did not spray her entire groin and upper legs.  She produced instead a solid slender flow, the kind that came from a circumcised penis.  That also made finding it with her fingers easy, and she discovered it could be found just as easily with the rounded head of the gold catheter.

Perhaps she had been judgmental when she thought the device was filthy.  It looked perfectly clean, and likely the human urethra kept itself quite clean.  Lindy pressed on the slender shaft, and was surprised at how easily her body accepted the insertion of the metal ball.  She knew the best way to succeed was to keep it moving, and within less than 30 seconds it was properly seated, and stood it’s ground firmly. 

She smiled only slightly with both pride and satisfaction as she presented a full view of her newly decorated vagina to her sponsor and to Lady Jayne.  She had never seen anything like this before, but as unorthodox as it appeared jutting from her open womb, she was quite pleased to wear it, protruding like a little fountain spout from her fully displayed cunt. 

Now that she was acclimatizing to her new role and situation, she was feeling no embarrassment in the least.  She was delighted that pleasing others with her shameless presentation brought her a sense of pride rather than shame.  She was already becoming an authentic Pony Girl.  She understood that Pony Girls were cunts.  Equestricunts. 

She was now beginning to accept that she was no more than a cunt, and she was grateful she was able to accept it.  It would make things much easier for her.  Her self-definition as a cunt would be true at least for her time of service, and having been in such a restrictive role would certainly reshape who she was when she re-entered society. 

She wondered if she would make a popular and successful high-class call girl.  That was now starting to look like a stimulating concept.  She was beginning to understand how glamorous women could be drawn into such a profession by the careful shaping of their character by wonderful men such as her Lord and Master Derrick Crane.

“Now remove the catheter and replace it in its original hostess,” Derrick said.  Lindy obediently grasped the specialized device and pulled it free.  The waiting Pony Girl thrust her hips further forward to accept the re-insertion.  Lindy found it easy to replace it, and then stood to await further instructions.

“Lie on your back with your knees spread and hips raised, your head tilted well back and your mouth open wide.”  Her instructions were clear, and she promptly complied.  The cane slashed up between the other Pony Girl’s legs, striking her vagina, and she moved over the prone novice, her legs widespread, with the catheter aimed downward at Lindy’s tummy.  The lash crossed her back, and she began to urinate. 

Lindy was shocked, knowing the woman could easily move forward and deposit the warm amber liquid in her mouth.  This was precisely what happened.  What startled Lindy more was that it was not urine that she tasted, but instead a delicious sweet fruit nectar.  The Pony Girl had her bladder pre-loaded with juice.  Her Lord Derrick Crane had both tricked her and demonstrated she could trust him. 

She swallowed the warm stream as it entered her mouth, savoring the sweet liquid.  This Pony Girl thing was all about show, and as long as she remembered that, everything would be fine.  The body piercings were totally amazing, and would enhance her breasts and vagina.  She would have a say in how she was decorated, and would never have to fear being abused.

The flow of artificial piss stopped, and with a lash of the cane across her calves, the woman moved away from Lindy.  Such non-verbal communication was highly effective.  Lindy assumed she would soon be trained to respond in like manner to blows from canes and whips.  That would not be her favorite part of being an Equestricunt.

“Get up now,” came her command, and she quickly got to her feet.  “Take the gold catheter from the woman’s womb once more” Jim told her and she did as she was bid.  “And now put it back into yourself.  It is now yours.”  She was surprised, but again obeyed.  Lindy was not expecting a gift, and knew better than to question her Lord.

“From now on that device will be yours, and you will wear it as your own vaginal decoration.”  As she was fitting her decorative catheter, the cane smacked the other woman on her legs just below her buttocks, and she lay stretched out on the floor as Lindy had done, face up.  What was this about?



“Now I want you to give her a shower as well.”  This was not a request, and startled Lindy.  She had not had her bladder loaded with juice, but it had been hours since she had last been to the toilet, and she was nearly filled with her own urine.  Her hesitation was a second too long, and the cane caught her across the buttocks, and not as gently as before.  “Raise your right knee as if high stepping, and keep it high while you inch forward on one foot, shower her body, ending at her mouth.”

Her Lord wished it, and it was her command.  She was going to be good at this, even if it meant sometimes doing disgusting things.  He had told her that.  Her right knee came up almost to nipple height, with her back slightly bent, and she kept the raised knee outward so that nothing would obscure the view of her catheter-loaded vagina. 

This was exhibitionism at its best, being both daring and naughty.  She had never realized how much she enjoyed putting herself on full, and even obscene, display.  She folded her arms behind her back, because they were not being used, and although this would make keeping her balance more of a challenge, she was up to it, and wanted to look as good as she could. 

Lindy was getting the hang of this, and was starting to enjoy herself.  The gorgeous woman below her must obviously have agreed to this treatment in advance, because nothing happened to a Pony Girl without her consent.  Lindy had not consented to the use of the cane on her naked flesh, but that appeared to be a necessary training tool, as physical training was always most effective, and perhaps it was for discipline as well. 

She was straining to remain in the unusual and awkward position, but had the stamina to continue.  She slowly hopped forward, watching the progress of the stream of her own amber liquid up the woman’s torso past her breasts.  As it struck the naked woman, it splashed, and Lindy was surprised to find the warm droplets of her urine striking her own ankle made her feel even more naked, and the feeling was somewhat erotic.  Doing this dirty task in front of others was exciting, as long as it was required.

The reason for the downward curve of the catheter extension became clear.  It made accurate aim of her stream of warm piss surprisingly easy.  She moved the flow up the woman’s stretched neck, over her chin and lower lip, and then the stream disappeared into her mouth.  As she reached the mouth, Lindy raised up on her toes in the shoe, knowing this move provided a provocative erotic view of her strained ankle and the exaggerated arch of her bare foot in her spike heels. 

The woman was swallowing Lindy’s amber elixir as it entered her wide-open mouth, rolling the warm liquid over her tongue taking it straight down her throat with a rapid swallowing action.  Lindy realized that disposing of another woman’s personal liquid waste was not a new experience for this Pony Girl, who seemed to be enjoying it.

Her bladder contained more than she had thought.  A full cup of warm fluid was consumed before the flow diminished and completed.  One of the women came forward with a mop and pail of perfumed water to clean the stage of spilled lady-piss as the Pony Girl got to her feet and resumed her place at the wall, and Lindy was permitted to lower her leg.

“Resume your seat beside me,” Derrick instructed her.  “You will retain the golden rod as your first decoration, leaving it in place.  I will allow you some rest before the finale.”  Lindy had no idea what he was talking about, but she took her place beside him, as he had instructed.  From now on everything he said was law.

The next woman to mount the stage from the darkness of the back wall startled her.  The woman was in full harness, and on her back sat a naked 8-year-old girl.  The remarkably beautiful child held reins in one hand, and a riding crop in the other.  The woman was in a bent forward position, with her large dangling breasts with their pointing elongated nipples tightly squeezed between her arms, which were stretched forward, her wrists crossed and strapped to her knees. 

The mounted Equestricunt wore hoof-shaped spike-heeled boots, and the naked girl on her back was smacking her hard with the riding crop and kicking her bare heels into the woman’s sides. The crop, the reins and the kicking heels effectively moved the high-stepping prancing woman in a circle around the stage.  Abundant flows of saliva dripped from the metal bit in her mouth, and she wore a swishing horsehair tail, attached to a post sticking out of her bulging rectum. 

Part of her harness was a thick leather strap around her torso just below her ribcage, and to it were attached a pair of stirrups for the girl’s feet.  The child stood up on them, displaying her own pretty little cuntlet and rectum as she leaned into her task of riding and lashing her human mount. 

 Lindy was surprised to see how the mounted woman’s large vagina had been distended to become a major feature between her thighs below her anus-mounted tail.  The bizarre pair, harnessed naked woman and her nude little girl jockey, made a shocking and highly erotic sight.

“I thought you might be interested to see a new direction the Most Secret Society may be moving.  With our high degree of secrecy, there is nothing to stop us from exploring the sexual charms of lovely and quite young ladies, and fully incorporating them into our erotic sport.  It’s not yet certain, but one of our regional members has obtained and is training a few little girls in anticipation of this level of activity.  I thought it would be worthwhile to let you know something that may become a common feature.”

Lindy blanched.  She saw how visually stimulating this pair was, and had to remind herself to breathe as they moved off the stage.  This was something she could never have suspected, and all she could do at this stage was to notice the stirring in her gut at the unbelievable range of things she would have to absorb.  It would take some time to come to terms with her response, and she sighed as the five remaining Pony Girls stepped onto the stage. 

They lined up along the front with their backs toward the seating, standing with their legs spread, and in unison bent forward at the hip, until their backs were parallel with the floor.  Lindy was stunned by what she saw.  The two women on the left had a thick ring piercing their pubic mound, through the outer lips. 

On one woman the ring through her Mons was placed about at the midpoint, but on the other it was directly over the entrance to her love canal.  She realized the woman would be unable to engage in sex with that stout steel ring in place, and it was it was clearly a permanent fixture in the beautiful Equestricunt’s groin.  She would never again be able to wear panties or a bathing suit, and a tight dress would also be out of the question if she wanted to retain any sense of modesty.

That was not the worst of it.  What completely shocked her was that all three women standing on the right had a large thick large ring that entered their vagina and exited from their rectum.  Each was progressively thicker, the stoutest being a full two inches in diameter, and the ring six inches across.  This was serious metal, in any application. 

“I wanted to give you a full range of choice regarding what kind of piercing you would like when the time comes, and am giving you plenty of opportunity to consider your options.  You will not move from Novice to Filly until we both make the choice about whether we continue working together, and a decision about wearing a ring and in what configuration is well ahead of you.”

Derrick had just spoken of them as equals, a startling shift from having him in total command.  She knew that to be momentary, but she thrilled in knowing she had equal say in her moving up to Filly, with a full year to serve him.  She sensed there was a missing piece to the picture, and with a catch in her breath realized what the missing element was.  Although she had seen and felt a brief introduction it, there had been no mention of discipline.  That part lay ahead.

The five nude women formed a circle, each grasping the large groin-ring of the woman in front of her, and they began moving in a circle, using that unnatural high-stepping gait demonstrated earlier.  It was easily one of the most bizarre spectacles Lindy had every witnessed.

“Notice how the grasping and pulling of the groin-rings changes the appearance of the vulva,” Derrick pointed out.  “The obvious concern is that the ring that joins the rectum to the vagina would interfere with expulsion of solid waste, but the human body adapts remarkably to challenges. 

“Sexual intercourse is not possible, either with that kind of ring or the one mounted over the love shaft.  During evacuation of the bowel, the rectum stretches, and the dark muck forms a collar around it, and emerges just fine.  It is a bit messy to clean up, but our horsewomen never complain, their diet provide a low methane gas and therefore low odor excrement, and their groins are regularly hosed clean.”

The cane struck each woman as she passed the midget wielding it, causing in Lindy an erotic reaction, and she realized how people could find this kind of punishment entertaining and sexually stimulating.  When struck, each nude woman pulled harder on the ring of the girl ahead of her. 

The stunning effect of the uncompromising pulling on their groin rings was immediately apparent.  The firm meat in which the rings were buried was extended well outward, with the interesting effect of making the women’s groins appear much more fascinating.  The extensive stretching of their groins outward greatly enhanced the appearance of both their cunts and rectums. 

Lindy had never considered the possibilities of this kind of flesh distortion making female fuck-chutes even more attractive, and had never before considered the anus an area of erotic interest.  She wondered if she could ever countenance having such radical piercing done to her body.  It was a sobering thought, and was one for which she had no answer.  She had never before considered such an outrageous alteration, but had no clear answer to the question at the moment.

Those with a ring pierced through both outer lips of their mound experienced a lengthening of the vulva, most particularly the one with the lower piercing.  The three with the anal/vaginal piercing displayed both an elongated rectum and vagina with the meat puffing out around the ring.

“These large rings are mainly for decorative purposes, as they look so shocking when mounted in the groin of a naked woman” Derrick explained, “and to maximize the presentation we will often hang a set of decorative weights.  The horsewomen look quite spectacular with the weights in place, pulling down on their sex meat, quite severely with heavier weights.

“We can also enhance the effect for punishment by using much heavier weights.  In Russia and a few other countries where we have affiliation but no authority, they play by much rougher rules. They will have three of their Pony Girls pull a large wooden cart carrying a fully-grown man by these groin rings.  Under those circumstances, the appearance of their sex meat is highly exaggerated, and is also very stimulating.  The Russians know how to get the most out of a woman.

“For that purpose they use a much heavier gage metal for the rings.  These mounted in the vulva are ½ inch, but they will use a full inch thickness.  They also use the heavier 2-inch think such as we have here, but only apply the very heavy metal for decoration in the lovely groins of pretty little girls for which they have quite a different use. 

“In much of Eastern Europe there is a wicked sport you might never imagine.  These people have a special appreciation of little girls.  Teams of seven and eight-year-old girls have stout metal rings pierced into their little groins, simply as decoration, and they are armed with foot-long miniature swords. 

“They are then turned loose in a small arena, it’s floor covered with sand.  They are all primed with powerful uppers, and then run onto the area floor screaming, their sharp swords wildly swinging, with their sole objective to survive the bloody and violent mayhem that promptly follows. 

“I don’t want to cause you any concern, but our Society is learning the value of some of the innovative sports being developed by Eastern Europeans, and are continually refining our sports to reflect some of the more satisfying outcomes of their approach.  It is common for any kind of human endeavor to be dynamic, and to adapt improvements on a regular basis.

“The Russians do not subscribe to contracting their women, but make what you might call permanent arrangements when they acquire their lovely ladies.  I don’t know all of their sources, but they acquire some of the most beautiful, voluptuous women in the world.  Their women will never leave their service, at least not alive.  Be happy you were not born in Eastern Europe, or within the scope of their human harvesting.

“The women are not there by choice, but they always learn to perform well with what we refer to the “Russian Method,” because the Russian Societies perfected it.  Their method is to inflict frequent and severely brutal punishment to motivate their stock.  Fully owning them also means there is no need for restoration of damage from piercings or from inflicted punishments. 

“They would never hesitate in extreme punishment to one of their Equestricunts by slicing one of her breasts, chopping off a hand, or even amputating an arm.  You would never wish to become a Russian Pony Girl.  As you’ll learn, the other East Bloc countries are just as ruthless in their treatment of their performing ladies. 

The Asians are equally severe in their chastisement of their Equestricunts.  It seems that inflicting extreme cruelty to women is in the blood of the privileged class anywhere east of Europe.  We have much to learn from them, as their collecting and their strict enforcement of rules are highly evolved.”

End of Part 4



Derrick instructed Lindy to rise and fetch a bag over by the near wall.  She did as he commanded, and stood awaiting further instructions as he brought what appeared to be a woven cord from the bag.  He unfurled it, and she saw it was a decorative whip, made of finely woven lightly tanned leather.  He handed it to her, and asked her to assess it. 

She admired the tight, even weave, the fine quality and the uniform smoothness of the thin leather.  She had never seen anything like it.  Then she was shocked once again when she took hold of the handle.  The center of the handle was a woman’s vagina!  The leather she was holding was human skin!  This whip was made with fine quality human female leather!

“Our affiliated Society in Austria uses these whips exclusively, and sells them to us upon request.  The Viennese prefer them to more conventional cowhide buggy whips.  They claim to get them from an Arab Sheik, a Saudi Prince who harvests them from disposable women in his harem, once they have otherwise outlived their usefulness to him.   

“Most of his women who provide the leather are captive European and American tourists, usually harvested while traveling in Egypt, but some also from Eastern Europe, and even from some of the Greek islands.  White women with a deep tan are most preferred, because human leather tends to pale as it is dried.
“He acquires his women, trains them, uses them for a brief period and then tiring of them, disposes of them, replacing them with fresh stock regularly.  I’ve heard he peels off their leather while they’re alive and screaming to entertain his friends, before disposing of their remnants.  If this is true, he and the Russian Society members are equally cruel. 

Because the fine leather is peeled from its donor while she is alive, it gains a character you will never find in a whip made from the leather of other animals.  A high quality woman-leather whip is worth its weight in gold.  Just a month ago, this fine leather was the meat of a beautiful living woman.”

Lindy shivered as he spoke, hardly able to grasp the horror the women being skinned alive must experience.  She made a mental note she must never travel to either Arab or Eastern European countries, avoiding them at all costs.  The last thing she needed was to be turned into a human whip, with her beautiful vagina gracing the handle!

“Their internal organs are harvested for profit, supplying European transplant hospitals, that pay well for healthy lungs, kidneys, livers, eyes and other transplantable organs.  Their meat is used to feed the poor in his country.  He uses their tanned leather for personal purposes, and profits from the sale of these erotic whips.  When I decided to recruit you a few weeks ago, I ordered this woman whip.  From videos sent by the Austrian, I personally selected the woman who would be the donor. 

“I also received a video of her being stripped of her leather while she screamed from the incredible pain of donating.  When you have earned the right and have progressed to the point you are judged to be ready, I will allow you to enjoy watching her being peeled.  You will be proud to know what she sacrificed so you could have this fine whip made from her leather.  This beautifully crafted woman-weapon will be yours exclusively when you become my Filly, and it will be used on your flesh both for your training and when you compete.  Do you like it?”

Lindy had choked back her emotional response and nausea that came over her when he told that story.  She was surprised by her promptness in providing her only possible response.  “I like it very much, my Lord,” she said.  How could she possibly say such a thing, knowing the details of its horrific origin?  She could hardly believe how her experiences in this bizarre service were beginning to alter her values.

“That is what I expected.  I have just bought the rights to Arvid’s contract.  He has been assisting us with this gallery of fine genital art, and will be your trainer.  I am sure you will love his attention to detail and manner in providing you with instructions, applied with your personal woman-whip.”

The midget had disappeared, but in moments re-appeared, now dressed in riding pants, a purple silk shirt and brown highly polished knee-high boots.  He took the woman-whip from Lindy and stepped onto the stage, standing to one side, well within the lighted area. 

He placed the handle in his right hand, carefully positioning the cunt against his palm, and gave it a sudden snap in the air, testing its flexibility and control.  Lindy could see he was very experienced with a whip, which seemed to be an extension of his arm, and realized it was capable of delivering pain to the recipient of its ministrations.

“There are a couple of things we still want to cover, and I want you and Arvid to get to know each other, while we demonstrate to you the various aspects of the feeling of your woman-leather whip kissing woman meat.  It is something you will want to memorize, as his demands of your movement will always be communicated with the whip.

“Arvid has mastered all of the basic strokes, and I want you to also master them, from the opposite side of the fence, as it were.  I know this experience with the whip will make you more comfortable with your circumstances for the next while.  I want you up onto the stage, and to face me.”

Lindy complied, more nervous than she cared to admit.  There was little doubt that this part of her education would be all about pain.

“Let’s begin with the basics.  There are several strokes that provide a quick awakening of the senses.  The first is across the small of the back, just below the shoulders.”  He had not finished his sentence when a stinging blow of the woman-lash crossed her back.  She flinched, but did not cry out.

“Very good, for a first taste.  If you are perfect and accept having your instructions delivered by your whip, before long you will demonstrate no response to the lash of any part of your body, even to the most sensitive part of your cunt. If you should eve yell out, the blow will be repeated, and more powerfully, to the same spot.  Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, my Lord.”  She showed no hesitation, and also no enthusiasm.

“The most attractive and convenient target, and the one most commonly used, is the buttocks.  Often novices have little tolerance for butt-smacks, but they quickly learn to accept them.  It is a regular part of being a horsewoman in the service of our Most Secret Society.”

Already the whip of human leather slashed across her buttocks.  This was both a shock and much more painful than she expected.  Like most women, a whip had never before struck her.  Her meat was tender and had not been conditioned to the lash of a whip. It was all she could do to refrain from screaming. 

This was a form of education she would have to learn to accept if she planned to go the distance within the Society.  It was not going to be easy, but she was sure there would be things about her life ahead of her in Derrick Crane’s service to appreciate to make acceptance of this more manageable.

“There is one target that most whips never contact, wherever the whipping of women is used as an entertainment, where such activity is frequently used in the backroom of bars around the world.   When the whip is applied there, it is not uncommon that the naked woman entertaining the audience will not leave the show alive. 

“I believe most ladies appreciate that the whip does not find that part of her anatomy, because blows to it can be exceptionally painful.  However, at the Society that center of delight is one target we favor in our Equestricunt sport, and one you too will learn to appreciate.”

Before he could name that tender, sensitive spot, the whip lashed out and stung hers.  Her vagina was not prepared for this kind of painful action, but the whip found it standing open.  Although the blow to her cunt had only half the force of the other two, she screamed out.

“That’s the usual response to a first cunt-shot,” Derrick said, “and is not unexpected.”   The blow to her vagina was repeated, as promised, and this time was delivered with full force to her most intimate flesh.  Knowing it was coming, Lindy bit her lip and managed to choke back the scream that raged in her throat.  It felt as if a red-hot brand had seared the tender genital meat, and the raw sting persisted.

“A woman’s tummy, particularly anywhere near her navel, is another interesting target, and is capable of taking quite severe punishment, even to the point of breaking skin, should it be earned.  In the Far East, bitch bacon whipping is a common form of brutal sex entertainment in the bars where cunts are targets.  I’m referring to entertainment centers where women do not survive the show.

“When the spectators are willing to pay extra, there are bars in Malaysia and Myanmar where the tummy of an abducted Caucasian woman will be whipped with special razor-wire whips so severely that her tummy-meat is deeply cut, split open, and her intestines slither out of her.  I understand it is quite spectacular.

Lindy began to heave, and she immediately emptied the contents of her stomach onto the stage.  This reaction was not unexpected during this part of her education, and promptly a woman with a mop and pail of perfumed water cleaned the embarrassing mess she had made.  Undeterred, Derrick Crane went on with his graphic description.

“One of my friends enjoyed a show like this recently while traveling in SE Asia.  Some of us would likely find such an exhibition gut-wrenching, pun intended, but the Asians see beautiful Caucasian women not as people but instead as erotic pigs.  In private clubs, the abuse captive white women and their young daughters face can be limitless.”

Lindy could not believe what she was hearing, and it did nothing to dull her horror at the cold uncaring approach that taking a whip made to her personal education.  What she was hearing about took place far away, and had little to do with what lay in her future.  The little man with the woman-whip seemed to her to be merciless in his assault, and she knew he was simply following the wishes of her Lord and Master.

“Breasts are particularly interesting, particularly with those pert erect nubs on the tips.  With the woman striking varying postures and using her breasts to present to the whip a wide variety of appealing targets, particularly when she is leaning forward so that they dangle, it is impossible for the man with the whip to resist the temptation they provide.”

The whip suddenly lashed up under her full mammaries, and as she flinched it came around at lightning speed and slapped just as rapidly down across the top of them.  A third blow that caught both nipples brought forward her second scream, immediately rewarded with a repeat blow that caught them with more force from underneath, catching them equally, causing her full breasts to bulge upward beautifully. 

What the hell was this?  She had not bought into this erotic adult sex game with the intention of being whipped!  This was so far over the top that she was ready to walk, even if it meant giving up the $10,000 deposit.  She was better than this.  A look of bitter defiance came over her face.

“Now you’re showing some of your real character,” Derrick said.  “I think we’re making progress.  You’re now ready for the last of the personal discomfort – the beginning of your education with the whip; what we like to call a flogging.  Each blow will be delivered in a distinct area of your body to teach you the zones. 

“During your training you will learn each blow intimately, and what movement by you are required from the different blows, but you will experience pain only when it is deserved.  You will learn that in the hands of a master, the whip can kiss your tender meat lovingly and erotically as well as with the power to sting.”

For 20 minutes that seemed a lifetime, Lindy experienced intimate contact with her personal woman-whip all over her body.  Only the many blows to her breasts and vulva were on the edge of being intolerable.  She stoically stood her ground, legs apart and arms folded over her head, as Arvid explored all of the sensitive parts of her body. 

Her erect nude form was striking, in her high heels and nothing else, other than the golden spigot thrusting out and downward from her urethra.  As she took the whipping she realized what a beautiful body she possessed, and now was giving it to the full possession of the Most Secret Society and, more specifically, to her Lord and Master Derrick Crane.

Arvid was both cruel and gentle with her vagina, and seemed to have a fetish for the underside of her buttocks and breasts.  She took the educational whipping like a real woman, keeping her mind on the quarter million dollars that were hers upon completion of her contract.  These people were certainly good for it, as she had $10,000 already safely nestled in her bank account without pen touching paper. 

Every business transaction had to have value for both sides, and it should be balanced.  The Society’s part was to provide huge payment to the women who served it.  In return, they required she go far past her comfort level to provide them the enjoyment they got from imparting what they deemed to be a reasonable level of humiliation, discomfort and distress to women willing to enter into such a business agreement.

At long last the whip was at rest, and coiled up, ready for its next use.  She watched the midget Arvid unfasten his belt and zipper, and pull off his boots and pants, revealing a flaccid penis and scrotum not scaled down, which was what she would expect from a small body.

 In fact Arvid’s member was enormous, by any comparison.  This midget was endowed with a broad, thick and long penis, gradually rising from above a remarkably well-filled scrotum into an arching erection.  Lindy could not imagine what it would be like to feel it going into her, and experience the powerful thrusting such an organ could provide.


To be continued . . . . .

Offline Regis
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Re: MOST SECRET SOCIETY - The ultimate pony girl story, taken the distance.
« Reply #4 on: August 09, 2017, 09:37:05 AM »

Lindy loved to fuck.  That was a natural part of her life since she was a little girl, which began when an uncle had opened her immature vestibule and then gently removed her hymen.  She was only seven at the time, but tall for her age, and her little organ was of sufficient size and elasticity to take in the penis of her father’s 16-year-old brother, who lived with their family. 

He had taken his way with her until she was almost 11, and then, when he had reached 20 and was fearful she might have developed physically enough to become pregnant, he had found a surgeon who would restore her virginity.  It was day surgery, and he had made arrangements to get her out of school on a Friday afternoon to attend the medical office.

Shortly after that he had left their home when he found a job out of state, and she never hear from him again, but he had given her a lust for sex she had built upon ever since.  Fucking a guy who grew from 6 feet to 6 foot 4 during those years, while she was a small girl, had been an intense experience, and she became addicted to unbridled sex on a huge cock.

Her uncle had unknowingly been just in time with the surgery, because not long after she turned 11 her father decided he should teach her what it was like to be an adult woman.  That is what he told his friends, but it was simply a rationale for having raped her.  Frequently. 

Lindy learned to love it, like she had woth her uncld, and to look forward to their time together, in her bed or in his.  Her mother worked shifts, and was often away evenings while her father filled her immature uterus with an abundance of his semen.  He also took her to a motel owned by a friend, and the two men gave the pretty child all the free sex she could handle.

Her father resolved a large debt by allowing some people with whom he did business to engage in sex with her, in her own little bed, and when the debt was settled, continued to allow the friendly businessmen to enjoy his daughter’s active little cunt, for a price.  Without knowing it, Lindy made her father a great deal of money while satisfying her growing lust for sexual intimacy with men.

Well before she finished grade 6, it became known that she was knowledgeable regarding carnal affairs, and she began enjoying the sexual attention afforded her by classmates in school and young male athletes.  Her male teacher discovered her enjoyment of sex, and before she moved on to junior high school, she was spending more time at school than at home.  She knew of the possibility, but never stooped to the level of asking for money for coupling her vagina with males.  Lindy was no dirty prostitute.
Derrick Crane addressed her again.  “And now it’s time for you and your handler to get to know each other on a more intimate level.  Hands on the floor, Filly,” commanded Derrick.  Had he just called her Filly?  At least the whipping seemed to be over.  She was only a Novice, and had not yet graduated to Filly.  Or had she?  Was she progressing so quickly in her path to becoming an full-fledged Equestricunt?  Had she passed the first test already?  What was going to happen to her now? 

Lindy promptly complied to her Lord and Master’s wishes, and the midget Arvid moved around to face her.  The broad head of his gradually elongating penis brushed the tip of her nose and intentionally against her lips, squashing them, demanding access.  She promptly opened them.  The massive flared head of the impressive dong entered her mouth, filling it as would a huge mushroom.

“Your trainer is going to love you while you’re with us, and I wish you to love him too.”  This was not a suggestion, and had no reference or similarity to the emotion of love.  He referred simply to the physical act of copulation.  He was going to face-fuck her.  It would be oral copulation, in this case.  She promptly began moving her head, spreading her mouth, which was now nothing more than a face-cunt.  This was not a new experience for

This was not a new experience for the beautiful star basketball player; Lindy had given head since she was in grade 5 to a teacher, who taught her how to bring forward the passion in a man, elevating his manhood.  She promptly opened her mouth as wide as she could, to accommodate as much as possible of the midget’s massive male organ.  She recognized this would be a real challenge, even with her extensive experience in satisfying teachers and horny basketball coaches. 

His huge penis continued to lengthen and stiffen, until it was nearly a foot long.  Lindy had never performed fellatio on a man with such a large organ, and certainly never on a midget.  She couldn’t believe the massive size of the little man’s penis.  How would she ever be able to deal with such an intimidating appendage?

Below the large pulsing penis swung in a loose scrotum a pair of prodigious testicles.  This scaled down man bore a scaled up penis and balls far beyond anything she could imagine.  The girls in the locker room would say he was incredibly well hung.  Lindy had never been with a man in daylight; for her sex had always taken place in a darkened bedroom. 

And she had certainly never exposed herself beyond the sexy basketball uniforms while others were watching, as was the case now.  The truth was that, whenever sex and exhibition were concerned, she was a good girl.  Although it excited her to be seen, she was cautious and not trusting others when it came to being totally naked. 

The outlandish string she was required to wear on the basketball courts was simply a matter of being an exceptional team player.  She wore it, as all the other girls did, because it was a requirement of the league, and was for the good of the team.  That was before they had started those filthy nude girl fights between quarters and at half time.

Going fully naked in public was new to her, but this was different than the fights on the basketball court.  This was part of her contract, and was something she was certain she was going to get used to very quickly.  She was aware that once she arrived at Mr. Crane’s estate she would say goodbye to wearing any clothing for a very long time.  That would be fine, as all the other horse girls he had in his stable would also be in the buff all the time. 

Lindy was now feeling humiliation but not shame.  This was clearly part of the agreement, and she had, after all, survived the pain part of the contract.  All of it was doable.  The money was incredible, and she now realized more than ever that she would definitely have to earn it. 

Now she was being taken into what was bound to be the pleasure part of the role, and with her enjoyment of sex. it was one she knew she would very much enjoy.  There was no part of sex she did not enjoy, but it was a bit distracting to have Derrick and Jayne watch her performance. 

Her only comfort in that regard was that she had no choice in the matter, and she knew enough to worry only about things over which she had some control.  In this circumstance she had willingly given herself over as an Equestricunt, a position in which she knew she had no control whatsoever.

On her hands and knees, her knees spread as she had been taught so recently and her breasts swinging freely with every movement, she took the head of his penis into her wide-open mouth.  The taste was pungent, and it smelled of his lust.  What was coming could never be thought of as anything other than a base face fuck.  She was giving him head, and he was taking it.

Her back was turned to Derrick and Lady Jayne, so that they could admire the spread of her sex-lusting vagina, loosened by the administrations of the woman-whip.  She could not see them, but that was irrelevant, as she turned her whole attention to the task of servicing the huge penis in her mouth.

Arvid had put down the whip in favor of a short but effective riding crop.  He put it to work on her back and buttocks as she sucked him, and he startled her with the gentleness of the whip’s lust-evoking application.  She could never have believed that a weapon, an instrument of punishment and torture, could be used to arouse and elevate her libido.

Her jockey and trainer was very experienced in preparing a woman for the role of horse.  He skillfully warmed her up both physically and emotionally with the caressing strokes of the whip.  He elevated her passion until she was at a peak, and then, withdrawing his erection from her mouth, abruptly turned her and mounted her from behind.

He skillfully alternated between her vagina and rectum, pulling out of one in favor of the other, with just a few powerful strokes in each orifice at a time, vigorously if temporarily satisfying the raging lust he had raised in her.  He was careful to avoid ejaculation, as he was saving that for the climax of their sport.

When he had counted seven of her orgasms, he pulled out of her one last time, and moving around in front of her again, instructed her to raise her head and keep her eyes wide open.  His hand was too small to reach around his massive organ, but with both hands firmly grasping the base of his rigid shaft, he pumped it until it responded with what she could only call an eruption. 

 Arvid ejaculated massive gobs of his semen into Lindy’s eyes, into her nostrils and then finished his substantial cum-spurt into her open mouth.  With that amazing fuck, he had transformed the gorgeous woman, only a few short hours in the hire of Derrick Crane, into his malleable servant.  In the crude words of basketball coaches, she was not only a cunt but was now his bitch.

Lindy was certain she would willing and eagerly do anything he asked of her, in the hope that another such excellent sexual experience would be hers if she pleased him.  The mind-blowing sex he gave her made it worth her while to be subservient to him, and it made her feel proud that this amazingly capable little stud wanted her.


Lindy was given a brief potty break to refresh herself, wash the male spunk-muck off her face, brush her hair and apply fresh makeup.  She felt totally degraded by the recent experience, and she was not yet able to absorb the meaning of the stories Mr. Crane told.  Were they fiction, designed to shock her? 

If that was what he was attempting to do, he had succeeded.  She pulled her expensive tight fitting chic salmon-colored designer sheath back on and straightened it.  She found the feeling of its expanding fabric hugging her flesh to be reassuring.  She now wished she had worn underwear. 

Her head was spinning with what she had learned of this Most Secret Society, and she absolutely understood why she had never heard of it.  She was certain nobody outside the totally bizarre organization ever had.  People simply did not treat women like this in modern times.  It was so degenerate!

In fact if they ever did, they would never want others to know about it.  It was unheard of; it was barbarous, piercing, harnessing and whipping them like this.  The gathering moisture in her groin and the growing knot in her stomach told her that for reasons she could not fathom, she also found it highly stimulating.

The limo was waiting for them on the street.  This astounding visit had grabbed her as things seldom did.  The sight of those cultured ladies in the living museum, displaying themselves so brazenly, and being so amazingly trained to respond so well to lashes of the whip!  That was so far outside her experience she had to run and re-run it through her mind. 

Lindy could hardly contain herself as she slid into the back seat, to sit between Derrick Crane and Lady Jayne.  Her moist vagina lips spread on the cool leather, and she felt it warm to the touch of her most intimate flesh.  Lady Jayne knew exactly what was going on for her, and a brief smile showed she was pleased with how the new recruit was responding. 

Lindy was crossing into a new world of wonder, with the potential for a whole new range of unspeakable sexual excitement.  She knew she would be a hit with these people, even if she were to be in a totally subservient role in what for her was a new and exciting sexually motivated sport.  Basketball was never like this for her.  This was living!

The three sat in silence as the limo drove to the outskirts, picked up the 400 North, and then moved onto the Turner McDonald Parkway.  Nobody spoke during the hour-long drive, until they exited the freeway and took a secondary highway.  Lindy was quivering with anticipation, excited to see what lay ahead of her on Derrick Crane’s expansive estate.

“I mentioned to you earlier that we require all of our contract people to have a thorough physical,” Derrick told her, “to ensure you are fit and not likely to collapse during a competition.  I’m certain you’re in great shape, but we make no exceptions.  It would not reflect well on the sponsor or the Society to have one of our competitors suffer a heart attack while competing, from a condition that might have been spotted by our vet in advance.”

‘A vet??’ she thought.  ‘Holy shit, I truly am becoming a horse.  I know I can become a really good one.  Thank God for the big payout when all of this is behind me.  I hope this animal doctor has a good understanding of the human physique and body functions.’

“All of the sponsors in this region use the same doctor,” Lady Jayne contributed.  “I attended the examination of another new girl for another sponsor just last week, and saw that the veterinary doctor was quite gentle and thorough.  He is not just a dogs and cats vet, he’s very knowledgeable about large animals like cows, calves, horses and women.  I am certain you will like him.  We’ve chosen to have work with us because he has proven to be very skilled, and of course is highly discrete.”

Derrick continued, “Now that you have committed to becoming an Equestricunt, I’ll want some assurance you are as fit as you appear.  We have a contract with this local Veterinary Doctor, one who appropriately practices at a Large Animal Veterinary Clinic.  He is, of course, a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, and a recognized researcher in the field of animal medicine.  His specialty is cows, horses, pigs and women. 

Lindy found no comfort in being grouped with bovines and pigs.  Horses she could handle.

“He also has extensive experience in caring for the athletic women in the Society’s service,” he continued.  “Most of us in this region use his services.  It’s important that all of our girls are in the care of a fully qualified large animal vet.  You’ll be happy to know that a vet has proven to be all that is necessary for the satisfactory medical care of our Equestricunt ladies. 

“If any of the girls are injured beyond his skill set or require hospitalization and human medical attention, we simply ship them home, terminating their service.  Of course, by abandoning their commitment to us, they also abandon any claim to compensation.  We are all quite satisfied with our special vet and how well he takes care of the needs of our horsewomen.  If in doubt, my suggestion is to stay healthy.

Lady Jayne picked up the narrative, as if discussing it with Derrick Crane.  “Although he specializes in horses, cows and pigs, for which he was trained, the work he does for us is quite satisfactory, since anatomically cows, horses, large sows and women have one thing in common; they’re basically all just animals.  He shares our point of view, and he is paid very well for his knowledge of animal inspection practices. 

“Satisfactorily completing a thorough physical inspection is part of your agreement with us, and the money for it already lies in your bank account.  You’ve taken care of that, have you, Derrick?”  With that she had effectively cut off any avenue of escape, and answered any arguments Lindy might come up with.  It was clear she had been through this before, and knew how to deal with any objections.

Lindy could not believe what she was hearing.  They were speaking more about her than to her, as if she were not present.  The pictures and videos she had seen on the internet, of amateur women half nude performing as horses, featured women who had not withdrawn from society, but had access to full medical care, human medical care. 

These wealthy, entitled people had altered the rules of normal society, and had not only distorted the kind of performances they expected, but they had also redefined the relationship between master and servant.  Lindy thought they were pushing reasonable boundaries, tilting the field severely in their own favor.

Once more she retreated to the justification that she would have to meet their standards in order to earn the fabulous pay they offered.  How else would she ever get out of the sizeable debt she had accumulated with buying habits and tastes that well exceeded her ability to pay back while unemployed. 

Lindy didn’t know what kind of job she could do with her limited experience and background, and was fortunate that Derrick Crane had shown up with the fabulous offer he did.  She did everything she could to think positively.  Now the ball was in her court, and it was up to her to perform as required, and do everything possible to earn what he promised to pay her.  Nobody had suggested life would be easy, and she loved physical challenges.  This position definitely promised to be challenging! 

It was just after six when the limo pulled into the empty parking lot of a non-descript building.  He was able to park right at the door, and Lindy read the somewhat weather-beaten sign next to it.  “Service Large Animal Clinic.”  Lindy was stunned at what they had told her, and it turned out what she had assumed was a bad joke was true. 

Service could be disguised reference to the women he dealt with, and would be necessary to avoid being cited for an offense against society’s laws.  As an example that came to her immediately, a citation for poorly administered medical care.  Such an offense would be criminal, and could put the vet in jail.  Surely this was not where she would receive a medical examination.

She knew better than to object, as she was not in a position to cause delays.  They were really going to subject her to an examination by a vet!  She was indeed considered now to be a large animal.  Derrick Crane held the clinic door open for Lady Jayne and for her, like a perfect gentleman, and they entered, Lindy still not convinced this was for real.

The waiting room had seen better days.  A worn sofa and a few mismatched chairs surrounded a pair of tables littered with dog-eared farming magazines, most of them equestrian, and one on top dedicated to birthing problems with sows.  The walls were lined with dusty pictures of prizewinning steers and both working and thoroughbred horses.  The reception window was empty, but Crane rang the bell and a distant and quite young female voice called “Be right with you!”

Lindy stood awkwardly until Derrick gestured to a chair.  “Relax,” he said, sorting through the magazine covers.  “Here,” he said, handing her one, “why don’t you catch up on hygienic hog rearing practices?”

Not wanting to disappoint him, she flipped through the pages and found the article.  Just as she did so a freckled face girl with her hair in braids stuck her head around the corner.  Lindy thought she could be no more than 15.  She had large breasts, mostly on display with her low-cut calico top tied up beneath them, forcing her generous boobs to swell up into a significant cleavage.

Having the top tied so high below her breasts ensured the gentle roll of her bare tummy was visible right down to the beltline of her tiny faded jean shorts.  She wore them so low that three inches of her ass crack were visible, and low enough in front that they revealed she was ready for another shave. 

This girl was not entirely country, because with her jean shorts she wore spike heel string sandals on her bare feet.  “Doc will be out in just a sec,” she said, and moved behind the card table that served as a reception desk.  “Holy cow, you brung us another new horse girl.  Freakin’ pretty, too, I mean like the last one, for a lady who ain’t nothin’ but a freakin’ horse.”

Derrick ignored the silly girl.  He paced impatiently for several minutes until a man’s head with untidy hair poked out the reception window.  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said with a kindly smile.  “Hello, Bill,” Derrick said warmly.  “Lindy, I want you to meet Dr. Gallagher.” 

Lindy stood up as the man momentarily disappeared, then opened a door leading to the back.  He was older and heavyset, dressed in a grubby lab coat over a checked flannel shirt and blue work pants, which were tucked into rubber boots.  The vet had the look of a cow doctor.  He smiled and shook her hand as she entered, following after Derrick. 

“So is this the next Triple Crown winner?” he asked.  Derrick laughed, and Lindy got an uneasy feeling.  Not only the sassy girl but also the man obviously knew her role already.  “Day’s just about done, Madeline, might as well get your butt on home.  Your Mama’ll be pleased to have you get your pretty butt home a bit early. 

“Nothing else left for you to do here, and as you know, what happens in the back isn’t any of your business.  I’ll need you to lock the front door when you leave.”  From the special tone of his voice, Lindy was certain the old man gave the youngster a regular practicum in human mating.  Madeline was clearly no stranger to sex, and the way she dressed invited men to test her.

Dr. Gallagher bustled down the hall, leading the group to an open doorway.  “You gotta excuse Madeline, she’s gotta know about this part of the business because she’s the one who takes care of my bookkeeping.  Just basic stuff, but she’s gotta know what its about, with me treating these special women.  None of my other staff have a clue this goes on.”

Inside the room they entered was a boy of about nine or ten, wearing rubber boots, was hosing down the floor of the unusual space.  “My grandson Tyler,” Gallagher said, beaming with pride.  The boy turned off the spray to say high.  “He’s learning the value of hard work and earning some pocket money helping out at the clinic after school, more than most 10-year-old boys get their hands on.  He’s going into grade 5 in the fall.” 

Lindy relaxed.  The presence of a kid assured her that whatever was about to happen would be G-rated.  Derrick had probably been teasing her, and was probably just stopping in to pick up a piece of equipment for the stable.  The youngster could hardly be aware of what type of operation the vet was running.  Just then a very pretty and petite 8-year-old girl, also wearing a flannel shirt, jeans and rubber boots, came into the room. 

“And this is Emmy, Tyler’s younger sister.  She just turned 8, so now is old enough to help around the place too.  She’ll be going into grade 3,”  He continued, but Tyler turned up the spray to finish his task, nearly covering the old Vet’s voice.  Unable to be heard easily over the sound of the power washer, the men waited while the boy rinsed the last of the debris from the concrete floor down a central drain.  ‘At least they keep the place clean,’ Lindy thought.

Lindy had time to look over the large mysterious room.  Around the perimeter were the typical cabinets and countertops of a medical facility, but one end of the room featured a large roll up door, and a couple of windows that looked out onto the rear parking lot.  She assumed that large animals would be brought in though the garage-type door and unloaded from an animal trailer for examination and, if necessary, treatment.

The center of the room was a large open area, with a number of hefty metal rings embedded in the floor.  These could be used quite effectively to restrain cows, bulls and horses.  Thick nylon straps hung from winches on the ceiling, as did several powerful-looking light fixtures on long, extendable arms.  Lindy correctly assumed this was the clinic’s central examination room.

A typical old man, Dr. Gallagher produced a tin from his pocket and opened it to offer Lindy a mint as they waited for the boy to complete his work with the washer.  She shook her head at first, but a with a look from Derrick she graciously accepted one.  It might have been a tactful suggestion regarding her breath, she realized. 

It wasn’t the best candy, tasting a little chalky, but it dissolved quickly and did leave her mouth feeling fresh.  Lindy wasn’t big on candy, but it would have been rude to refuse the kind offer.  He seemed to be a nice man, and even though she had locked herself into an agreement to act like a horse, she did not give up on practicing her good manners.  It was particularly important, given that stern look from her Lord and Master.

At last the boy finished with the washer which he turned off, and received an affectionate pat on the head from his grandfather as he carefully coiled the hose back up on its wall mount.  Lindy saw the boy’s smaller sister was still in the room, sitting quietly on a bench, observing what was going on.  It appeared all of this was all new to the child. 

Lindy knew the reason she had been brought to the vet was to undergo a thorough physical examination, and seeing the child sitting quietly on the bench, lost hope the children would leave.  She hoped the vet was just going to check her pulse and maybe her respiration.  What else was important?

“I want to thank you for staying late,” Derrick said to Gallagher, but the older man waved him off. 

“I have to wait until most of the regular staff have gone home before we can do this sort of thing,” he said.  “And I just had a Holstein in that was pregnant with twins and running a fever.  That made things a little messy in here, so we needed a minute or two for the boy to clean up.”

Tyler was now scrubbing his hands and forearms at a large steel sink.  Dr. Gallagher again waited until the water was turned off before speaking.  “But we’re ready now.  So if the young lady, was it Lindsay?” 

“Lindy,” Derrick corrected. 

“Ah yes, Lindy.  Need to get the batteries checked,” he chuckled, turning his head to reveal a hearing aid.  The group all laughed, including Lindy.  “Simple enough to remember – Lucky Lindy!  I hope you all don’t mind, but I’m hoping to give the kids a bit of an education they wouldn’t find anywhere else, and I want them to stay to assist.  It’ll help them to grow up, and I can always use the extra help.

“Now Lindy,” the old veterinarian said to her, a smile still lingering on his lips, “If you’ll be good enough to take off all of your clothes, and I mean everything, we can get your examination under way.  Most of the animals we deal with here don’t wear them, but in this way ladies are different.  Let’s get moving.  We don’t’ want to be here all evening, do we.”

The words struck her like a bolt of electricity.  What seemed like an innocent errand or side-trip had just taken an unfathomable turn.  The reality of her new situation was starting to sink in.  Examined here?  By him?  Naked?  With the children watching?  Her eyes darted around the room in a panic, desperately looking for a side examination room, as she struggled to make sense of what she had just heard.   

The doctor had turned and was walking over to the equipment cabinets.  The boy was drying his hands on a paper towel.  The little girl was just sitting, her hands crossed on her lap, carefully watching and absorbing everything she saw.  Their lives were proceeding like normal.  Derrick Crane and Lady Jayne were standing quietly to the side, also present to observe her intimate medical examination.

Finally she mustered a response.  “But your grandchildren, they’re still in the room!” 

Gallagher looked back over his shoulder at her, then at the seated children, and nodded.  “It’s just some life experience, as I told you.  Tyler knows about these lady exams, and when he can he helps out.  Emmy’s new to this, but its time she learned a thing or two about life, about what grownup ladies look like underneath their clothes, and this is the perfect opportunity. 

“They’re starting sex education earlier and earlier in the schools, because girls and boys are able to reproduce younger and younger, and we all know they start to experiment in the basement, the attic or in the woods with fucking as young as seven.  We have to keep ahead of the wave, don’t we.” 

He turned to Derrick.  “I need Tyler to help.  Okay with you if Emmy watches?”

“I fully endorse education for youth,” Derrick responded, “and this physical examination is certain to be educational.  What we call ‘adult’ is really the kind of thing more children need to learn about early in life, to be prepared.  I know they begin to learn about human reproductive behavior very young, and with earlier onset of puberty, some girls are now getting pregnant as young as 10.  I’m quite happy to have her observe, and if she can help, allow her to take part in the thorough physical examination of my newest Equestricunt.”

Derrick turned to Lindy and spoke softly to her.  “Remember, you are in a real sense auditioning, if you will, to be a human racehorse.  No one objects to children seeing animals in their natural state, and your new definition will be an erotic animal.  If you noticed the photos out front you no doubt saw youngsters displaying their blue ribbon livestock at state fairs.  One of our members even allows his small children to use his naked Equestricunts as pets.

“You’re an ambitious young woman who stands to make a lot of money, provided, of course, that you’re capable of achieving a similar status to a prize winning mare.  I believe it’s healthy for children to know something about how adults conduct their personal affairs.  You no longer have the privilege of privacy or the rights of a woman.  Everything’s new for you now, but you have the character to adapt.

“These children have no idea who you are, who I am, or where my estate is, nor what goes on there.  Their knowledge of this naked examination of you will give them a new perspective on the value of women, and represents no threat to us.  Watching you being examined in intimate detail may lead them in the future to want to become veterinarians themselves.

Who knows, if they become wealthy enough one day, they may be motivated to own and race their own Equestricunts.  Their grandfather may choose to share with them what little he knows about our sport.  Little Emmy may even wish to become an Equestricunt when she grow a bit.”

Lindy’s mind reeled.  His proposition of letting them watch kind of made sense, as he explain it.  She knew she needed that money, and had anticipated that she would sometimes be placed in what might for her be some highly embarrassing situations before her year of service was through.  The very thought of that unknown had, admittedly, made her pussy tingle. 

But this was so sudden, so unexpected, and was not something that made her feel sexual.  This was going to be entirely clinical, even if she was required to be naked for the examination.  She couldn’t help turning her head to look over at Tyler and Emmy to see their reaction to her humiliation. 

Emmy’s eyes were wide open in anticipation.  She had heard of these examinations from Tyler, but had never witnessed one.  Tyler appeared to be a bit nervous, his left knee bent inwards and his hands in his pockets.  But his eyes gleamed, flicking downward momentarily as she caught his glance, then boldly looking up again to meet her stare. 

He was acting very forward for a 10-year-old.  Now it was Lindy whose eyes dropped submissively.  If she had expected the well-behaved youngster to politely excuse himself to protect her modesty, she was wrong.   He was on his home turf, and she was the visitor, being examined.  The young boy knew all about women and their reproductive organs.

If Derrick wanted the children to observe her examination by their grandfather, it was definitely going to happen.  Now it was part of her role to provide some education, at least to the girl.  The boy obviously had it under control, and nothing that happened today would be new to him.



Lindy realized she was out of options.  She had accepted the ten grand from Derrick Crane, and everyone else in the room was apparently fine with the idea of her nudity.  She surprised everyone by beginning at the bottom.  Numbly, she lifted the hem of her salmon colored shift. 

She couldn’t help glancing over at the excited boy, who was wriggling with anticipation and leaning on a cabinet for support.  Emmy was sitting still, fidgeting with her fingers, equally eager to see what was going to happen to this gorgeous woman.  She had watched as animals were examined here, but never a naked woman.

Tyler’s eagerness about what was coming was the exact opposite of Lindy’s dread.  She slipped the sheath upward, immediately revealing her groin, but she kept her legs close together so that the fold of her vagina was mostly hidden.  As he knew it would be, the tiny patch of a heart shape left of her shaved pubic hair was revealed.   

She continued lifting upward, revealing her navel and tight tummy, the flare of her hips to her narrow waist, and then the lower bulge of her bare breasts.  Dr. Gallagher glanced back at her from his preparations, with an encouraging nod and smile.  “Good girl,” he said with a satisfied grin, “get ‘em off.” 

With her arms raised high, she lifted the tight sheath up over her firm breasts, which were not encumbered with a bra, and then pulled it off over her head, and tossed it onto a bench.  Lindy kicked off her pumps, taking five inches off of her height.  She was rapidly losing status with these people and in particular with herself in every respect. 

Against her better judgment, she again looked at Tyler, whose chest was visibly heaving as he licked his dry lips.  Her chest was doing the same, and her mouth felt dry and full of cotton.  It was strange how entirely opposite emotions produced identical physical reactions in the two.

She had intentionally worn no bra or panties to the initial interview with her new Lord and Master.  By slipping off the dress so quickly she had taken the impromptu show into R-rated territory.  Derrick was behind her, and a peek over her shoulder left no doubt that he was closely monitoring her behavior.  She could not afford to slip up now. 

Her courage failing her, she turned her back on Tyler.  This maneuver put her directly in eye contact with Derrick, and she noted the disapproving twist of his mouth.  Gulping, she turned back rapidly, forgetting in the moment that the abrupt spin would cause her unrestrained breasts to slap wildly back and forth before coming to rest. 

To turn abruptly like that she also had to slightly spread her legs, and that revealed what drew the children’s eyes like a magnet.  Again she couldn’t help glancing at Tyler, and she was horrified at what she saw.  With no pretense of the macho coolness of even an adolescent boy, he gaped openly at her impressive breasts.

 His eyes quickly dropped to her groin and perfectly plucked pussy, delighted with the revelation of her pubic mound.  Because of so much sexual excitement during the past few hours, her pink vagina lips were distended and moist.  She was beginning to feel like she was no more than a common whore.

Lindy’s gaze dropped now to the boy’s lap, and his right hand was there, his fingers teasing the small bulge in his crotch.  Kids were becoming sexually mature younger and younger.  Her heart hammered in her chest, and she had no doubt that the kid’s pulse rate was also off the charts. 

Dammit, why had they made her do it this way?  The thought of the lifetime memory she was giving this fourth grader made her feel queasy and nauseous.  She almost laughed bitterly when she felt the highly uncomfortable sensation of a tingling in her cunt.  She was getting aroused again!  Exciting a little boy with her sexuality was turning her on.  At last something was happening to her that she wasn’t sharing with the boy and his younger sister.

Tyler’s hands were back in his pockets and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet.  Thinking his actions would not be noticed, his hands moved toward his rising penis.  He was anxiously awaiting a fuller revelation of adult female flesh, knowing his granddad always did a complete vaginal inspection of cows, horses, pigs and women. 

Lindy could see the rise of the boy’s little erection, and caught some spotting on his pants where the head of his penis would be.  He was showing her pre-ejaculation fluid!  The kid, still no more than a little boy, was really sufficiently matured at the age of 10 to do a man’s business.  He had a stiff, productive prick!

“Let’s take a look at your vulva, woman,” he said.  Derrick had given the vet full rights to examine her, and she had just run out of options.  She was reluctantly ready to humiliate herself in front of these children.  Her last moment of modesty had dissolved, and there was no more excuse for delay. 

Lindy’s eyes fixed on an empty spot in the middle distance, and she emptied her mind of all thought as her fingers sought out her outer vagina lips.  The simple act of pulling them apart with her fingers was one she had done thousands of times in private, and an automatic reflex action had her pussy spread open before the higher functions of her brain came back online. 

It was the sensation of cool air on her slightly damp genitals that cleared the fog in her frontal lobe.  She moved her feet apart and stood still for a moment, staring straight ahead, knowing that her boldness in exposing herself was earning points from her sponsor, but hating the knowledge that her traitorous eyes would, at any moment, flick over to the left to assess the kid’s reaction to her raw sexuality.

It seemed like an eternity before her discipline cracked and she peeked.  Again, it was a horrible decision.  Tyler was bent over, hands on knees, eyes popping as his entire world focused on her cunt.  And that little brat Emmy was right beside him, peering into her love slot.  She brought her gaze back dead ahead and tried to think of anything but this horrible humiliation. 

Whatever credit she’d earned from Derrick quickly faded as an involuntary shudder shook her frame.  He was humiliating her in ways she had no idea a person could do to another.  With this new arrangement her life was completely changed, and she was no longer in charge of what happened to her.  She had agreed to become an object, an animal, not a person, and that realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

Her eyes went involuntarily to Tyler’s pants, and she was surprised to see this youngster producing a substantial bulge against his fly.  The little prick was experiencing a full erection!  What was more, she saw a growing patch of moisture that confirmed he was capable of producing semen.  At his tender age!  This severe physical manifestation of horror told the sponsor that she was exactly where she needed to be – being gradually broken down, step by step, one humiliation at a time. 

Tyler, too, celebrated the sudden spasm that went through the strung-up nude woman, not because he appreciated the neurological context, but because of the visual impact when it made her big boobies bounce again.  She was a very appealing woman, even to a 10-year-old boy, and he was from a bloodline that appreciated the finer aspects of a beautiful and alluring naked woman.

The preoccupied vet turned back to the center of the room and gave a sharp clap of his hands.  “Excellent, my dear.  I know Mr. Derrick has seen his share of naked ladies, so I’ll ask our junior colleagues for an un-jaded assessment. Tyler, what do you think of this new human horse?” 

Tyler’s mouth worked silently for a moment as he attempted to coordinate his tongue, lips, and brain.  He was not new to this kind of thing, but the woman Mr. Crane had brought for inspection was outstanding, and this kind of thing happened infrequently enough that he was always jittery at the blatant display of full nudity.  He was learning to love women.

“S-she’s . .” he stuttered.  Lindy couldn’t help but look as the boy struggled for words.  His cheeks had gone bright red and she wondered if she was blushing, too.  “I – I’m – it’s . .”  The grown men laughed heartily as the kid’s language center failed him in the midst of a dream come true. 

“I think we can conclude that she’s an acceptable specimen in your opinion,” Gallagher chuckled.  Tyler swallowed hard and gave an exaggerated nod, his eyes still fixed below her navel.

“And what are your thoughts, Emmy?”

“She’s got really big titties,” the child responded, “and her cunnie doesn’t have much hair.  I don’t see none, except for that little bitty heart.  I thought grown up ladies grew more curly hair there.”

“That’s a matter of choice,” Derrick commented.  “She and I both choose that she be bare there, just like a little girl.  I let her keep her tiny Basketball Club heart patch as a memento.  I find it more attractive for ladies to be bare, just like little girls are, which is a big part of what makes naked little girls so interesting, and this lady now does everything my way.”

“Excellent, then,” the vet said.  “Miss Lindy, if you’d be good enough to step to the middle of the room, right up to the drain.”  She did as he suggested.  “Thank you.”  Lindy moved mechanically, her limbs not feeling quite like her own, to the directed spot.  The freshly washed floor was still wet and cool under her feet. 

The vet quickly affixed leather cuffs with heavy steel rings to her wrists and ankles, and then looked up at the hanging straps with a contemplative hand to his chin.  Lindy followed his gaze, and wondered what was the purpose of the straps, feeling very uncomfortable with the answer that came to her.

. To be continued . . . . .

Offline Regis
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Re: MOST SECRET SOCIETY - The ultimate pony girl story, taken the distance.
« Reply #5 on: August 09, 2017, 11:19:07 AM »

“Tyler, be a good lad and grab four of the short cords out of the end cabinet.  Lindy, let’s have you bent over, legs spread wide, hands on the floor.  This is the ideal posture to help you begin to think of yourself as a horse.”

Gallagher gave the assignments in the same neutral tone of voice, but the effect on the recipients was markedly different.  Tyler realized he was going to have an active role in whatever was going to happen to this pretty naked lady during her examination.  Whatever it was, he was ready.

Emmy smiled as she realized she was finally getting to be like a grown-up, and would see what her grandpa did for a living, when he worked with rich people’s special pretty naked ladies.  She knew the ladies got bare naked, but had no idea what her grandfather did with them once they were nude.  She figured the beautiful ladies he worked on were pretty much like animals.  After all, he was only an animal doctor, not a real one or anything.

Lindy realized that she was a pretty naked lady that was about to be the center of a process, which a pair of little kids would witness, and one experienced little male kid would play a very active role!  She was indeed being treated just like an animal, and that did not sit well with her.  She was a proud woman, but was desperate for the money this position offered.

Lindy took the requested position with her usual athletic grace.  Tyler returned with the ropes, and was instructed to use them to tie the rings on the cuffs on her limbs to the nearest rings in the floor.  He scampered to the task with enthusiasm, getting the closest look yet at his new friend. 

Starting with Lindy’s wrists, Tyler worked the cords skillfully, pulling them taut and knotting them securely, with his gaze at all times on the magnificent swinging breasts that hung just inches away from his face.  These big boobs were bigger than any human udders he had ever seen.

Lindy could hear his heavy breathing as he bound her, revealing a respiration rate far above his level of exertion.  Then he moved to her ankles.  Lindy could hardly help watching as he fastened her wrists, but she steeled herself against lowering her head to see how he was going about roping her ankles in place. 

Once again, however, temptation proved too strong for her, and she peeked down between her legs.  The view would have given any woman pause.  Her 38-inch breasts were dangling, rocking in response to every slight motion the bondage procedure entailed.  She’d never seen them this way before, and they were more impressive than she remembered.

Visible through her cleavage was the tiny heart-shaped close-cropped puff of her pubic hair, and almost directly below it the head of a small boy whose extended arms were manipulating a rope through the ankle and floor rings like an experienced cowboy, while his attention was entirely focused on her bare genitals, mesmerized by the brass catheter sticking out of her urethra, fully visible in her open and pulsing cunt. 

As a futile demonstration that she maintained some control Lindy opened and closed her cunt repeatedly, something she had first learned to do when dates would bind her and string her up nude, and later perfected with the help of Lady Jayne.  She found it amused her boyfriends into kink, and if they were amused they would go easier on her when they were starting to get out of control with raging lust.

Now she got a brief bit of pleasure by seeing the startled look on the child’s face when her cunt winked at him.  He had never witnessed a woman’s intentional cunt-flap before, and had also never been exposed to a catheter in a human cunt.  None of the other ladies his grandfather worked with were so outrageous.  To complete the tiny show, she released a brief burst of urine from the brass spout that struck him between the eyes as it splashed on his astonished face.

Emma slid off her chair and came around to replace Tyler who had rushed to the basin to wash himself off, and Lindy repeated her fleeting performance, at first shocking the little girl with her vaginal control, and then providing her the same facial golden shower she had given the small girl’s brother. 

“Piss on you!” was her message, but the children giggled, seeing the humor in her unexpected, fully intentional and rude action.  They were young enough that this was just a game to them.  Lindy was sure these kids engaged in sex play in private, and wonder if they were also experimenting with water sports.  She would not be surprised, based on their reaction to her bold release of her amber essence onto their faces.

Derrick spoke for the first time in what seemed like ages in terms of Lindy’s life, but had only been about five minutes.  “Nice shot, girl,” he said to Lindy, then said to Emma, “She got you right in the face pretty good, didn’t she!”

Emma had returned from the sink, drying her face with a paper towel after cleaning herself.  She walked directly to stand close to Derrick Crane.  “This lady could use a good spanking, and I’d like to be the one to give it to her,” she said.  “She surprised me with her squirt when I wasn’t expecting it,” she said, “but I’m used to getting a spray of pee.” 

She had Derrick’s attention.  This was not what he expected from an 8-year-old girl.  “Sometimes when we take a bath together, when Mom isn’t there, me and Tyler pee pee on each other’s face, and sometimes we even drink it!  I like the taste of fresh pee pee, before it starts to get cool and stinky.  When it gets cool it gets really gross, and I don’t like it.

“Then he gets behind me when I’m kneeling, and sticks his stiff dink right up into my bum.  We don’t really fuck or nothing, like he never sticks it up into my cunnie, he just says it feels good to hump me in the bum.  I like it when he spurts his goo right up into me.  Then I poop into the bathtub, and you can see his goo in my crap.  It’s not really dirty, what we do, because he’s my brother.

Our Mom says brothers and sisters are supposed to play together, too keep out of mischief.  We don’t ever tell her what we do in the bathtub, but we did get a spanking once when she caught us bare naked in my bed, and Tyler was poking his dink into my bum when Mom came in and caught us.”

Emmy spoke softly enough that her preoccupied granddad missed her confession to a stranger.  Derrick Crane didn’t miss a word.  He made a mental note that these children were more worldly wise and adventuresome than he had first thought, and he guessed they might have quite a different usefulness, if he could find a way to take possession and properly train them.  Their attitude was perfect for his needs. 

He then brought his mind back to the present and turned back to the boy, who checked to ensure the ropes were secure.  “You’re pretty nifty with those knots, Tyler.”

“Thank you, sir,” the boy answered clearly, willing and able to speak confidently about a topic he knew well.  “I learned how to tie them properly in Cub Scouts!  Grandpa has me tie big stock so they don’t kick him or anything.”

Lindy cringed at the fact she had been completely restrained by an impudent little boy who was only a cub scout.  In college she had football stars line up to hook up with her.  This impudent kid had efficiently immobilized the grown woman and stood back to admire his handiwork. 

“Well done, lad,” Gallagher said, examining the boy’s work.  The youngster was learning fast, and would be a good assistant once he was fully trained.

While she had been distracted by Tyler’s merit badge-worthy efforts, his grandfather had looped a ceiling strap under Lindy’s stomach and was pulling out the slack.  It pulled the wind out of her as he lifted, but she found if she used her diaphragm she could breathe more easily. 

He repeated the process through her armpits and across her upper chest, then pulled her hair into a ponytail and used a slip-knotted strap to pull her head upright.  Her neck was stretched tight, and her head now pointed directly forward.  This position provided the vet full access to the naked woman’s entire body, and although she was very uncomfortable, she found herself fully supported in the unusual stretched out position.

Lindy’s weight was about equally balanced between the tension on the straps and her hands and feet on the floor.  The position was not as uncomfortable as she thought it would be, but she was dismayed to realize how utterly helpless and exposed she was.  They had her bound for action, and she was unable to respond in any significant way.

As the vet headed back to the cabinets again, Derrick asked, “So this is how you examine horses?” 

Dr. Gallagher gave a snort.  “Ideally!  But most of the time I have to head out along miles of dirt road to some smelly barn and look the creature over on site.  It’s a risky business for an old man – a vicious kick from one of those hooves can break a leg or cave in a skull. 

“This is the safest and most efficient way to inspect the large ungulates – horses, cows, goats, pigs and the like.  Same thing goes for women.  The uppity girls can make examinations a real chore, kicking, or even just wiggling and squirming, and they can make things dangerous if they’re not properly restrained.  The first woman I examined for your Society was the last one I didn’t restrain. 

“That hot little mustang punched, kicked and bit everything she could reach, which was mostly me.  I would have sedated her, but unfortunately we need the subjects awake and alert for the best results. From that point on it’s been tight rope restraints.  There’s no way I want to get kicked in the nuts again!  This one’s a very good specimen.  She’s in terrific shape, and appears to be as fit as a professional athlete.

“Good observation, Doc,” Derrick said.  “She is a professional athlete, a basketball player.  She’d probably also be a great beach volleyball player too, with those legs, arms and reflexes.  I chose her because of her great fitness level and beauty.”

“She’s nifty, alright,” Gallagher responded, “and fit as a fiddle. There is one more piece of restraining gear I need. Now where did I leave that thing?  I used it on Thunderbolt this morning.  Ah, here it is!”  Gallagher turned with what looked like a medieval torture device or animal trap in his hands.  Two U shaped metal rods were joined by heavy springs, with an adjustable leather strap dangling from the ends. 

“Horses like to bite,” he said, approaching Lindy’s head, “and I’ve found that most women aren’t much better when they get out of sorts.  At best they’re nothing but a cunt, you know.” He turned to his granddaughter Emmy, apologetically. “Present company excepted, of course. 

“You know I love little girls, don’t you.  It’s full grown women, especially those ladies in service like this one is, that are nothing but cunts.  I don’t want to hear you saying that word.  It’s an adult word you can hear, but should never to come out of the mouths of innocent children.

“In any case, examinations go much better if we don’t have to deal with the stupid cunts screaming, squealing and shrieking while I work.  This not only keeps the jaw wide open, and doesn’t let them bite, but it also keeps their oral protestations and screaming under control.  With this spring-loaded spreader in place, the best they can do is gurgle!  You’ll see in a minute. 

“Open wide, my dear.”  Lindy reluctantly dropped her lower jaw, shocked at what she was hearing from someone who purported to be a professional man, particularly when he used such filthy language in front of the children, but the vet ignored her and continued talking. 

“This device is inserted and locked in place to keep those big teeth from taking a piece out of the humble animal doctor while he conducts an oral exam.  Some women can bite as hard as horses do.  It happened to me twice, but it will never happen again.  Now this is my number one tool, and I never leave home without it!  A guy’s always got to protect himself from vicious cunt bites.”

Lindy was feeling ridiculous with her mouth gaping as the older man lectured about veterinary gear.  But she recoiled, or at least tried to, when she got a good look at the size of it.  Designed, indeed, for adult horses, it was at least four inches wide in its smallest dimension! 

She wanted desperately to avoid the humiliating and certainly uncomfortable insertion of the device into her mouth.  There was nowhere for her to go, however, and the vet had started to insert it before she reflexively tried to close her mouth, her teeth clanging on the metal.

“Now, now,” Gallagher gently chided, and she saw him shoot an exasperated look at Derrick, who still stood in back of her.  The vet tightly pinched her nose, and he had her where he wanted her.  As she opened her mouth to gasp air he thrust the big spreading device into place. 

Her cheeks pulled painfully wide to accommodate its breadth, and she could feel the end of the U all the way back against her uvula.  She was now not only forced to keep her mouth excessively wide open, held by the powerful springs, but now she was also effectively gagged.

Lindy’s eyes began to tear, but the doctor was not finished.  He pushed a small lever and a larger set of springs released, forcing her jaws further apart than they’d ever been in her life.  She tried to protest, but with her tongue pinned down and lips spread wide enough apart to accommodate a softball, all she could do was gurgle with her esophagus.   

The men and children laughed at her frantic squealing attempts to vocalize her distress.  “She sounds like a porky little pig passing a kidney stone,” Gallagher observed, fastening the strap around the back of her head.  He rubbed his hands together with satisfaction and walked around her. 

“There we go, tight as a drum!”  He slapped her left buttock for emphasis, and they all noted approvingly that while her flesh rippled and muscles flexed, her limbs and torso remained firmly rooted in place.  The distressed naked woman’s restraints were complete, leaving her entirely immobilized, as any domestic beast ready for examination should be.


Gallagher pulled a rolling stool over and sat down next to her left shoulder.  Although just a Vet, Lindy knew he was the only medical person who would be examining her from now on.  She hoped he knew his stuff.  “Now let’s get some vitals!  Tyler, wheel that cart over.  No, no, not that one.  That’s the euthanasia kit.  We don’t want to put the young lady permanently to sleep, at least not on this visit!” 

Lindy shuddered again, not that anyone could notice this time.  The kid had been bringing over the instruments of death, and she couldn’t have stopped them from using them, whether by mistake or by design.  Binding her in position was not the way for him to develop confidence from his patients.  A cart rolled into her peripheral vision, and she was relieved to see the vet pull an oversized blood pressure cuff from it. 

The arm cuff was wrapped around her upper arm and inflated in the usual manner, squeezing her left upper arm hard.  The doctor announced “118 over 72. Very good! She’s a real athlete. Note that down in her chart, Tyler, will you?  Pulse rate 104.  That’s pretty elevated for a young athlete.  Perhaps she’s a bit more distressed by being here than I thought.  She’s new to the game, isn’t she.  Still, quite a bit of excitement these last few minutes, but we’ll keep an eye on that.”

Staring at the far wall, Lindy heard the rip of Velcro as the cuff was removed.  Gallagher hummed a little tune as he wound up the inflator cord and hunted through the cart for the next item. 

“Whoa, what’s that?”  Tyler exclaimed as he lifted a heavy glass tube he found on the cart, rounded at both ends. 

“This,” said the vet, “is a horse thermometer.”  He was evidently showing it to the boy and Derrick behind her, because Lindy could not see it. 

“It’s freaking giganormous,” the boy continued, scurrying up in front of her.  “You always used a regular little people thermometer on all the cunts before.  No wonder you needed to open up her mouth so wide!”

“Watch your language, young man, Gallagher said, “or I’ll wash your mouth out with soap!  You don’t want Emmy speaking like that, do you?  Now step around here.  Would you like to hold it?” Gallagher asked.  “If she’s going to be a horse, I’ve decided it will be more interesting to use a real horse thermometer in her.  It’s a little more substantial than your basic home type.” 

“Sure,” Tyler replied enthusiastically, and Lindy got her first look as the instrument was passed over her head and into the boy’s hands.  It looked like a conventional glass thermometer, but was at least eighteen inches long and nearly two inches in diameter.  “Boy, it’s heavy,” Tyler enthused.  Lindy wondered how exactly it was going to work in her mouth, with her tongue pinned down and jaws locked wide open.  It was far too big to go down her throat.

“Would you like to insert it?” Gallagher asked the boy, and Lindy saw him look at Derrick. 

“Can I?” asked the boy, enthusiastically.

“Of course you can!  See how nice and open her throat is?  Go ahead and poke it down there, a good three inches or so.  Just keep a good grip on your end, we don’t want to lose it down her esophagus!”

Lindy knew that Gallagher was a medical expert, but what she was hearing frightened her.  Wouldn’t she gag on it?  How long would it need to stay in to record her temperature?  Would she be able to breathe?

Derrick had also come around front to observe.  Lindy was startled to see that he was apparently texting on his phone.  While this was a momentous event in her life and that of the young boy, it was apparently business as usual for the millionaire.

Tyler approached her tentatively, holding the thermometer at belt level.  Had she been in the mood, she would have giggled at the youngster apparently wielding a massive erection.  His little penis in fact stood at full attention.  But this enormous fake cock was headed down her gullet, in the hands of an inexperienced grade school boy. 

Lindy desperately attempted to use her eyes to plead with the boy not to carry out the task, but his attention was entirely on lining up the rigid rod with her twitching widespread mouth.  Glass clanked against her lower teeth, and she felt the tube sliding along the surface of her tongue.

The image of a Storm trooper on his “The Force Awakens” Star Wars t-shirt filled her vision as the rounded end poked her tonsils.  Before she could adequately prepare, her esophagus was stretched by the fat cylinder and it began squeezing down towards her stomach like the head of Arvid’s big cock had done just a couple of hours earlier. 

Her lower torso began a series of rapid spasms as he triggered her gag reflex, but she ineffectually retched, and her face quickly matched Tyler’s earlier redness before transitioning to more of a brick hue as he meticulously inserted the huge thermometer to the requested three-inch depth.

Blood roared deafeningly in her ears as she experienced the early stages of asphyxiation.  She had no means of defense, or even of alerting anyone to her suffering, beyond the changes in skin color.  Her vision blurred as her eyes welled up, and incomprehensible voices rang dully in her head.  At last she felt a shift behind her Adam’s apple, and the thermometer began to withdraw. 

The boy proceeded slowly, being careful not to damage any of his grandfather’s expensive veterinary tools.  At last the head of the instrument popped free and Lindy drew grateful lungsful of air.  The experience had put her embarrassment over stripping into harsh perspective. 

At this point she could care less about being spread-eagled nude in front of someone too short to ride the Kingda Ka rollercoaster.  All she cared about was getting air into her aching lungs.  All she could think of was getting great gulps of sweet, precious air.  At this moment nothing else mattered.

It only took a moment of gasping for her self-preservation instincts to kick in however, and her attention desperately tuned back to the conversation.  The men were laughing, and Tyler was looked at the thermometer in confusion.  The red column inside the tube had not moved, so no temperature was recorded.

“That was well done, my boy,” said Gallagher, “but you still haven’t taken her temperature.  Unlike the thermometer you’re used to, this one does not go in the patient’s mouth.  It does go into her digestive track, but at the other end of her, in the exit, so to speak.  I know you’ve been raised to be polite, and it is considerate to get a nice coat of lubricant on the thermometer before you put it to actual use!”

The last three inches of the instrument were indeed thick with saliva, so much so that a bead was dangling down.  “Horse thermometers are supposed to go up into the subject’s rectum, Tyler.  Remember, this woman is now a horse.  You’re working at the wrong end!”

Lindy’s head instantly cleared.  The big glass tube was still waving in front of her eyes.  Could it possibly fit in her butt?  She had never disgorged a shit-log that thick.  She had from time to time had a bout of constipation, and although smaller than the thermometer, those stools were very painful to pass.

Her hard constipated lumps of poop stretched her anus to what she assumed was the outer limit.  Again she made several desperate vocalizations as she watched the vet smear thick gobs of lubricant jelly onto the end of the glass shaft.  That was a positive move, but didn’t make the huge device any thinner.

“I agree.  Oink! Oink!,” answered the vet to her muffled squeals of resistance.  Tyler still looked confused, but began walking around the length of her body.  To her regret, Lindy’s last glimpse of his face showed bewilderment being replaced by eagerness.  One of the extendable lights was brought down and switched on, somewhere above her tailbone.  She could feel the warmth and see her shadow being cast in the brightness on the ground in front of her. 

Her bent-forward position presented her pink puckered anus perfectly for penetration.  Suddenly the end of the glass device pressed against her rectum.  The rounded end of the shaft felt as wide a Coke can.  She had seen pictures of women with a coke or a beer can stuffed into their rectum, but the female anus was not made for such abuse.  Certainly hers was not, and it was screaming that message to her.

“There’s no way,” she thought.  The object pressed harder, and she felt her sphincter being pushed down into her body.  This was becoming painful.  More pressure and she began to spread.  Lindy felt like her anus had opened to the size of a dime.  She could hear encouraging words coming from behind her. 

“That’s right, get your weight behind it!” The boy pushed on the device with all his strength, with little sign of progress. “Go on, remember, winners never quit!” 

After a few more moments of struggle, she heard the boy complain.  “Her bum hole’s just too small!”  She felt adult hands grab her buttocks and pull them apart, hard. 

“Big challenges are all about teamwork and believing in yourself,” Gallagher coached.  Lindy tried to scream as the massive object probed again, but her throat was dry.  Her anus was now at quarter size, and she realized the men could see her spreading little starfish through the glass tube.  “We’re getting there.  Come on.  No pain, no gain!” 

The pressure eased for a moment, and Lindy relaxed.  In an instant, what felt like a sledgehammer blow struck, and the sensation in her anus changed from a crushing external weight to a stretch so extreme it burned like fire.  “You’re in!  The shaft is well in her grip now!  Attaboy!” 

Lindy’s eyes bulged as the thermometer began its slow penetration into the nether end of her digestive tract.  Tyler was a very meticulous kid, and she was getting the full benefit of his attention to detail.  After about a minute of continuous slow insertion, he stopped.  “I think that’s more than the three inches it needs,” he announced excitedly.

“Three inches was just what we needed for lubrication,” the vet said seriously.  “In order to properly register a horse’s temperature you need to go at least a foot in.  You’re past the hard part now, but with a long way to go.” 

Lindy disagreed.  Her rectal walls were being stretched as tight as an overinflated balloon.  She was certain her rectum would never contract to its normal The incursion resumed, slow and steady.  Lindy wheezed and bucked to the limited extent she could move as the thick glass instrument was worked deeper and deeper into her bowels. 


“I don’t understand,” the boy’s soprano voice whined.  “Why do we need to work so hard just to take the lady’s temperature?  It was a lot easier before, just using a regular thermometer stuck in the lady’s mouth.” 

“She wants to become a Pony Girl for Mr. Crane,” Gallagher explained.  “A sort of human racehorse.  So she needs to get used to equine equipment being used on her.  Those other ladies got off easy.  She’ll need to get used to horse bridles, reins, special saddles, riding crops, horsewhips, all of those things.

“The same principle applies to her medical care when she’s brought to the Vet.  It’s a lot more interesting for Mr. Crane and Lady Jane here when we use horse-size implements.  We need to get her temperature to be sure she’s not running a fever, which is an indication of something being wrong with her.”

Lindy’s mind reeled.  They were having a serious conversation about her while simultaneous shoving what felt like a fire hydrant up her ass! 

“Sure, some of the horse instruments are a little oversized for use in ladies,” Gallagher continued, “and it’s a bit of a stretch, but she needs to be willing to make a few little sacrifices if she wants to make it as a real Pony Girl.  Like taking a horse thermometer.  Or being bare naked in front of innocent children, like you and Emmy.  Now does it make sense?” 

“I guess.  I mean, yeah!” Tyler replied.  “Showing naked ladies in front of little kids is very logical.  I can’t think of a better plan than that!  I can even see her, um, you don’t want me to say it, well, her everything!  And she made it wink at me!”

Now Tyler was comfortable enough to be cracking jokes.  The men observed the steady progress of the thick glass mercury-filled tube into the woman’s intestines with satisfaction.  Even Derrick got caught up in the lighter mood.  “Just like football, it’s a game of inches, Tyler, and I think you’ve almost it into the end zone!  Well done, lad.”

Lindy gasped with relief as at last the relentless penetration stopped.  “Now it’ll take a few minutes to let her temperature register,” the vet said.  Tyler walked around in front of her and made a face, then went over to the sink and tore off some paper towels. 

Her eyes and nose had been running continuously since the insertion of the mouth spreader, and a steady stream of drool was emanating from her distended jaws.  Gallagher and Derrick also took the opportunity to stretch their legs, and came around to re-familiarize themselves with the expressions on the pretty blonde’s face.  Derrick Crane definitely had obtained a prize in this new Equestricunt Lindy.

“Next time, waterproof mascara,” Gallagher advised, using the rough paper to wipe the various fluids off of her cheeks and chin.  “You look more like a raccoon than a horse at the moment!”  Lindy thought back in disbelief.  Was it really just earlier this day that she had fussed over her makeup and outfit, determined to make a good impression? 

How far had she come since then; from nervous job applicant to totally nude, to being whipped, to incredible sex with a midget, to being in bondage, to having a rectal thermometer from hell shoved deep up her ass by a cub scout who still needed a babysitter.  What more could she have to endure on her first day?

The removal of the thermometer from her anus, like her throat, was a much less traumatic affair.  “99.4 degrees,” Gallagher read off casually, and she could see Tyler recording the figures on a clipboard.  He picked up a stethoscope.  “That tiny bit extra is probably due to her finding her present situation a tad stressful.  Same thing goes for her pulse.”

When the massive thermometer at last popped free of her rectum, the vet sighed with admiration.  “That’s a wonderful rectum,” he said, admiring the slowly closing anal aperture.  “I hope you’ll be bringing this one back soon so I can horse her.”

“What’s ‘horse her’ mean?”  Emmy asked.

“That’s an excellent question, child.  Most of my clients who keep women like to sooner or later rupture the rectum, which means make her bum not work, so that she can’t hold back her digested food, and Oooops!  She has an accident.  It comes out as poop whenever it’s ready.”

“She’s got a really pretty bum hole with that bulging round rim,” Emmy observed.  “Look, it’s slowly closing tight again.”  She stood behind Lindy.  The little girl curiously reached up and began aggressively fingering the bound nude woman’s rectum and vagina, investigating parts of an adult she had never before touched, as if it were her right as the vet’s junior assistant. 

Lindy thought she was going to die, being physically examined like that by a little girl, who was freely poking her slender fingers into her rectum and vagina at will.  She had been told to expect some humiliation, and now she was getting it in spades, in ways she could never have imagined.

“Yes it takes about half a minute, but a healthy human rectum fully extended, as hers was, will completely close,” Gallagher said, “it’s still got its closing power, and keeps her poop safely in her until she’s ready to take a dump.”  Through speaking to his inquisitive granddaughter, the vet was making a high-pressure sales pitch to his wealthy client, the only way he got new work.

“If I get the chance to horse her she’ll lose the ability to retain her crap, and it will come out at the most embarrassing times.  It’s really quite special.  The procedure I do is quite reversible, not a total rupture, so that when I fix her she can hold digested food back and poop like normal.  She really does have a pretty bum hole, doesn’t she.”

He was now addressing Derrick.  “I’ve a friend who specializes in animal nutrition, and knowing of some of the work I do, as a hobby he has devised a formula to make human feces closely resemble horse feces, including having a much reduced odor not unlike that of horse manure that has partially cured, and is hardly offensive.   Its like horse poop coming from ladies.  It requires a rigid diet, but first an accurate measurement of all the dimensions, including the length, of her digestive tract.”

He had Derrick’s attention.  “I’ve seen horsewomen who had been given that procedure, and you’re right, their offal was not in the least awful.  It was quite interesting to witness their total lack of internal control.  They could shit when they wanted, but when their body wanted to pass poop, they could not stop it.” 

The vet grinned at Derrick’s small pun.  “They say you are what you eat.  That makes me a cunt.”  It wasn’t true; Derrick wondered if the vet engaged in sexual activity any more, but smiled at the old man’s attempt at humor.  On the other hand, he wondered if Gallagher engaged in oral sex with the pretty voluptuous teen that worked as his receptionist.  She was a high school dropout, and probably felt she owed the vet for giving her work.

“My friend replaces more than half of the flora in their gut,” Gallagher continued, “He adds a carminative antacid to control methane production, the principal disagreeable odor in human feces, and adds his own enzymes, bacteria, digestive fungus and some specialty items.  The apparent mess looks like horse shit, but is as clean as a whistle, and cleans up easily.

“his formula is added to their food to give it that perfect horse shit consistency.  It is always firm, thick, virtually odorless, and breaks easily coming out, so that it falls in lumps, perfectly simulating the droppings of horses.  It also ensures frequent bowel movements, so that the ladies drop fairly regularly for their fans.”

Lindy and Derrick Crane were both listening, but they had quite different responses.  Lindy’s sweat glans shifted suddenly to high production.  The last thing in the world she wanted was to shit like a horse, and in front of people!  And beyond that, there was no way she wanted her rectum ruptured!

Derrick said “Let’s get the gut measurement in case later on she should consent to undergoing that minor physical alteration to make her more equestrian.  I expect it would not be particularly painful, or if so it would be just a momentary discomfort.  It would be useful to be prepared.” 

‘Holy fuck!’ Lindy thought, ‘just this afternoon I agreed to play their naked horse-lady games with them, and now they’re talking about me shitting in public, with no anal control, just like a real fucking horse!’  She could not begin to understand the thrill that came over her with that thought.  There was no way she ever wanted to have that disgusting procedure, and yet somewhere deep inside she found the concept of being completely out of control of herself to be exciting.

It was clearly sexual stimulation of some sort going on inside her, as she felt moisture gathering in her vagina.  She had no idea that she was at heart an exhibitionist, and that being under the total control of a dominant other was a long held fantasy that was now starting to become a reality for her.  Her sexual drive was kicking into high gear.

“This is the right place for horsing,” he said.  “We can make it happen when you’re ready,” Gallagher said.  “”I’ll just need her for an afternoon, but with some notice, because I can’t have other regular clients here while I’m working on a woman.  Now let’s have a listen to that heart and those lungs.” 

The next part of the exam proceeded normally, other than the patient being suspended doggy style and drooling on the floor.  Lindy provided the requested deep breaths and the vet listened intently, moving the metal disk all over her chest and upper back.  He was, at the very least, being thorough.

“Clear lungs,” he concluded, “and nice strong heart rhythm.”  Tyler diligently made notes.  Gallagher took the stethoscope from around his neck and held it out to the boy.  “Would you like to take a listen to the beating heart of a real horsewoman?” 

“Sure,” Tyler replied.  “I did it before, with that redhead Mr. Joyce had here a week ago.  Maybe Emmy’d like to try too.”  He inserted the earpieces and began placing the end of the device where his grandfather indicated on her body.  “Deep breaths,” he said, mimicking the older man, and giggled when she complied.  “She’s sweaty,” he noted as his hand made contact between her shoulder blades.

He took the stethoscope’s earpieces out and handed them to Emmy.  She put them on, and reaching up, put the sensor on Lindy’s back.  “She’s really sweating like a pig,” she reported.  “I bet she’s worried about getting her bum hole split, like you said.  I can hear her heart beating away like mad.” 

She slid the sensor under her shirt to listen to her own heart.  “Mine’s not nearly as loud or as fast,” she said.  She surprised them when she put the stethoscope sensor against Lindy’s rectum, then moved it to her vagina.  “I can hear her heart at her bum, but its not very loud, and her cunny doesn’t have any heartbeat at all.”

“That soft flesh acts like a filter.  The rectal insertion was hard work for her, too,” Gallagher said sympathetically.  “Don’t worry, we’ll get her all cleaned up when we’re done.”  Lindy shivered as the cold metal made contact again and again, now moving underneath and into the vicinity of her hanging breasts. 

Emmy slid the stethoscope into her jeans, and surprised the adults by pressing the head against her own little pussy.  “I don’t have any pulse there either,” she reported.

Tyler took the stethoscope from his little sister and was listening again.  Lindy wondered how Tyler could hear anything over his own excited respiration.  As he incidentally brushed against her tits while exploring her ribcage, his crotch was inches away from her face, and she could see the bulge in his jeans was now larger and very firm, with more dark spots on the part of his pants that covered the little organ’s tip, one of them substantial and rapidly expanding.  He was ejaculating in his pants!  The young boy was growing up, both one way and the other.

To be continued . . . . .

Offline Regis
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Re: MOST SECRET SOCIETY - The ultimate pony girl story, taken the distance.
« Reply #6 on: August 10, 2017, 08:34:21 AM »

The vet had taken a break while his grandson explored, and was sipping water from a bottle.  Lindy realized how parched she felt, but had no way of communicating.  He capped the drink and came back over.  “Okay, it’s always important to check a horse’s teeth before making any kind of ownership commitment.” 

Another light was swung down and snapped on, blindingly bright in Lindy’s immobilized face.  Gallagher took a gigantic dental pick and began exploring in her conveniently gaping mouth.  The sharp tool poked here and there, prodding a gum, scraping a tooth surface.  He worked it in between a couple of teeth to pry a bit of retained lunch loose.  Then he used the other end to tap a few of her incisors, listening to the resulting ring.  “Teeth are in excellent condition,” he concluded. 

Lindy hoped so, her parents had spent thousands on orthodontic braces for her when she was a teen!  After having the attention of a top orthodontist, she deeply resented this mere vet poking around in her mouth.  This was as bad as she could imagine things getting.  Once she was out of here, the worst would be over, she was sure.  After all, Derrick Crane respected her for who she was and what she could achieve, and it would all be to his benefit.

“Take a look back here,” he said to Derrick, who joined him, peering into the oral cavity like travelers trying to read the fine print on the schedule at the train station.  “Wisdom teeth are just starting to erupt, perfectly normal, given her age.  But this might be an ideal time to remove them.  They’re only going to cause problems a couple of years from now.  I can get the pliers and have them out for you in a jiffy.”

The men’s faces were just inches away from Lindy’s as they discussed the painful procedure in a carefree tone.  “A couple of years, you say?,” Derrick asked, standing back upright.  “I think we can wait on it.”  Lindy breathed a sigh of relief.  At least one thing was going her way today! 

“Are you sure?,” Gallagher asked.   “I’d kind of like the boy to see how good his granddad is – I’ve been pulling teeth for fifty years!  And it’ll only be harder later.”

“I’m sure,” Derrick said decisively.  “Two years is a long time.  A lot can happen.”  “Oh, I see,” Gallagher said, also straightening up.  “You figure you might not own her in a couple of years, pass her along?  Leave the problem for the next guy?” 

“Kind of,” Derrick said, absently scratching his neck.  “Her contract is only for twelve months, and like I said, a lot can happen, even in just one year.  Also, at some point we might want to fit her with a real bit, which means some of her molars will have to come out, and it could all be done at the same time.”

Lindy’s celebratory feeling was replaced with a deep uneasiness.  What did her sponsor mean?  They had talked of a potential long-term arrangement, and everything happening with her consent.  Would she be able to agree to a new owner?  And “a lot can happen” sounded ominous. 

Could he actually fire her if she didn’t work out?  And what was this about extracting her molars to fit her with a bit?  They were planning on harnessing her as radically as a couple of those ladies at the living museum?  Removing molars would be permanent, and definitely not reversible.

Tyler and Emmy had also come over for a look, and while he held her mouth painfully wide open, their indulgent grandpa gave them a guided tour of her dentition.  “Why are they called wisdom teeth?” Emmy asked.  Now she was feeling like a horse more than she could have imagined possible with this humiliating oral examination.

“Because they’re the last teeth to come in, and appear at an age when you’ve developed wisdom,” Gallagher answered.  The group looked at the naked, violated woman dangling helplessly in horse restraints in the back room of an animal clinic, with a steady stream of saliva dripping to the floor from her obscenely expanded mouth, and they spontaneously burst into laughter. 

“She IS a college girl,” Derrick said in mock defense, giving her head an affectionate pat.  “She completed three years in college before she opted for a professional basketball contract.  She fell just a year short of getting a university undergrad degree, but was easily smart enough to have completed a degree.”

“I think she needs some horse sense!” Gallagher replied, to a new round of chuckles.  The vet was proceeding with the examination of her head, spreading her eyelids with his thumbs and having her gaze directly at the blinding light as he checked her retinas, or what little of them he could see without administering drops.

Next he checked her nasal passages with a long cotton swab, looking in her ears with an oversized otoscope, and palpitating her neck, feeling for any lymph or glandular irregularities.  Once again, he advised Tyler to make note that everything on this cunt was in perfect condition.

“That’s a word you’re never to speak, except when referring to one of these horse women, or Equestricunts, as their owners call them.  You can safely call them cunts, because its not a filthy word when you use it to refer to a lady who has allowed herself to be reduced to the level of being just a cunt.”

“She’s just a stinking cunt,” Emmy said.

“Not until you turn 10, Emmy,” Gallagher said.  “That’s a filthy word for little girls to use.  When you turn 10 you can call her a cunt.”  Emmy blushed, and her hand went under her belt, allowing her to finger her own little cuntlet.  Gallagher allowed her to do that, because he told it was cute for a little girl to finger fuck herself, but only inside her pants.

Returning to Lindy’s mouth, he ran a finger over her upper gums and gave a grunt.  “Bone dry.  We need to keep you hydrated.”  Lindy gave as much of a nod as she could with her head secured.  “Can’t exactly give you a glass of water,” Gallagher mused.  “Tyler, bring the hose back over.  We’ll be able to get lots of water into her with the nozzle.” 

With youthful enthusiasm, the boy ran to the wall rack and started unreeling the industrial washer.  He flipped a switch and the powerful compressor began to run.  It had a very powerful spray, designed for stripping varnish from a deck.  “Here you go,” he told his grandfather, handing him the nozzle mere seconds after the request had been made. 

Lindy stared at the wand in his hands in horror.  She had seen it blasting the concrete floor when they first entered, a jet of water so powerful that the 70 pound boy struggled to keep it under control.  How was she going to get a drink out of such a hose, especially with her tongue pinned to the floor of her mouth?

“Have to exercise a delicate touch here,” Gallagher said inserting the long metal tip into her gaping jaws.  Lindy trembled when she again felt a poke at the very back of her throat.  And once again, the invader did not stop but pushed on as she gagged, lifting her head, enabling him to force the nozzle down into her esophagus.  Because it was thinner in diameter than the thermometer, she was able to gasp some air in. 

“Nice and easy,” the vet said, and she could see his hand squeezing gently on the graduated trigger.  There was a soft hiss, and the sensation of cold flowing down into her stomach.  Gallagher’s hand tightened slightly, moving the flow to the next level, and she felt the force of water accumulating inside her.  She quite reasonably felt she was being invaded.

She realized that the man could easily tear her apart internally with one hard pull on the handle, whether intentionally or not.  The sound of water gushing and sloshing echoed out of her and into the room as gradually her abdomen began to visibly swell. It felt to Lindy that he had already put far more than she could hold into her, and she felt her belly dangle below her with the weight he had added inside her.

Gallagher gently withdrew the wand with an experienced hand, and Lindy gasped like a fish as the head of it left her throat.  “Looks like you impregnated her, you old devil,” Derrick said, crouching down to evaluate her sagging belly.  “Looks almost as if I’ve obtained a filly with foal!”  He had stretched her belly with a substantial load of water.  She actually looked to be several months pregnant.

“I’ll leave impregnating her to the younger fellows,” Gallagher replied.  “Assuming she’s fertile, or remains fertile, that is.  I’m not sure what you plan to have me do with her internal plumbing down the road, but as you well know, we offer timely and comprehensive vet services for ladies, even if you at some time want her to drop a foal for you.  If you ever do, I can ensure it’ll be female.” 

“I know you can,” Derrick said.  “You’re completely prepared for whatever we need.  That’s why I bought in, along with several of the other pony fanciers in the region.  We depend on you for whatever we require for our gorgeous herds of horse ladies, and you always deliver.”

“Mighty nice of you to say so, sir,” Gallagher acknowledged.  “As you know, we’ve added such women to our patient list ever since old Doc Willis died of what looked a lot like a heart attack, about 6 years back.  The sheriff claimed it looked suspicious, and the coroner agreed, but I swear I have no idea what really happened to him.  I took over all of his gentlemen clients, to take care of the medical needs with their Equestricunts, and I’ve been adding new ones ever since.  Glad to have you aboard, sir. 

I don’t mean to offend, but I want you to know, should you need them, we also offer a range of euthanasia and discrete disposal services, should they ever be needed, and of course we also have a large animal crematorium out in the back, to discretely dispose of the carcasses.”

“I don’t anticipate having that need, as we keep our horses healthy, but its good to know the service is available,” Derrick responded.  He knew there was a push to move more into sadistic treatment of the stock, as well as much more rigorous and highly dangerous competitions, where the bitches were at risk, and one never knew what might come of that. 

When it had come up at the regional board meeting, he was curious about that side of the sport, and was eager to hear more about it, but had no current plans to practice more sadistic treatment of his stock himself, at least not in public.  There would be time enough for that later, and there was no way he wanted his stock to have advance notice of any such intentions on his part.


Lindy was struggling too much with the sensation of eight or nine pounds of water swelling her stomach to the bursting point.  She remembered reading something about a woman who drank a gallon for a radio contest and died of water intoxication.  Were these people even aware of that, or was it just another urban myth?  Had they just started to kill her?  Why did they need to give her so much water?

Lindy groaned and burped as the liquid settled inside her.  The others, meantime, had disappeared behind her.  She gradually tuned back in on their conversation.  “It immediately triggers the bladder to start the specific mild pain that leads to urination.  So we’re going to take advantage of that to collect a bladder sample.  Tyler, go ahead and hold the big jar right up against her vagina.  Don’t press too hard, remember it’s glass.  Those things are expensive.” 

A couple of light slaps on her butt brought the bizarrely bound subject back to full attention.  “Miss Lingus!  We would like you to provide a urine sample, and I’ve got a feeling that seems like a pretty good idea to you, too, at the moment.  So you go ahead and pee – we’ve got the collection angle covered.” 

Gallagher was right.  Her bladder had started to tingle immediately after the ingestion of all of that fluid.  But peeing in this position?  With spectators?  Her heart sank as she remembered – she was being treated like a horse, and horses just pissed whenever and wherever they wanted.  In any event, she needed the relief and had no idea regarding when she would be permitted to get herself to a bathroom.

The position and circumstances were awkward, but a moment of pushing and those in the room once again heard the sound of liquid flowing, this time a musical tinkle.  “Yup, she’s doing it!,” Tyler said, feeling the warmth on his hand through the glass beaker.  Lindy again tried to mentally block the full implications of what she was doing – relieving herself with a small boy’s assistance. 

The light amber fluid was coming in a steady stream now, but the 1000 ml container had plenty of capacity, and sure enough, the flow trickled to a stop just past 600 ml.  Tyler proudly held the jar up and his grandfather praised him.  “Well done, lad.  That will be more than adequate for a sample!  She’ll be voiding a lot more over the next day or so, but where she puts the rest of it will be her business…or maybe Mr. Crane’s!”

Gallagher reached underneath the girl to squeeze her still-swollen stomach.  She moaned as the pressure increased.  He stepped away and consulted his watch with a puzzled look.  “We should be observing another effect.  The introduction of a large amount of water on top of the laxative she took ought to be causing a very urgent need to defecate.” 

“What laxative?” Derrick asked. 

“The large mint one I administered 45 minutes ago.  She ate it like a candy.  It should be having its maximum effect right now.”

“She’s such a big lady, I’ll bet she’s really loaded up with poop!” Emmy said.

“Yes, and we need a stool sample from Lindy, too.  “Stool” is the word doctors use for a lump of poop.  And because we don’t want to wait until she next has to go potty, we gave her a little medicine and a lot of water to help make her go right now.  So get me another container, Tyler, a big one!”  Tyler ran excitedly towards the glassware cabinet.

Lindy’s heart sank as she realized that the offer of a candy had neither been a friendly gesture nor a subtle commentary on her breath.  She had unwittingly downed a powerful purgative then allowed herself to be completely under the control of others when it kicked in.  And kicked was an accurate term. 

A wave of discomfort passed through her overloaded digestive tract.  The jet of water into her stomach had caused her pyloric valve to open, allowing the flow of liquid directly down into her intestines, swelling them and pushing the existing waste towards her rectum well ahead of schedule. 

Her thoroughly reamed anus was going to be no match for the tidal wave of her excrement that was rushing for the exit.  Again, she pictured a horse nonchalantly dropping steaming feces on a public street.  That was her status at the moment.  Gallagher’s hands were firmly pressing on her abdomen again, and this time he gave a cluck of satisfaction. 

“Right on schedule!  I can feel the signature peristalsis of an impending bowel movement.   This is liable be messy, Tyler, are you sure you want to hold the jar?”

“Heck yeah!” the boy responded, and held the large jar in position near her bulging rectum to receive her impending offering.

The water had gone in cold, but now it felt like liquid fire was gathering at the bottom of Lindy’s guts.  The rim of the container dug into her buttocks as the observers waited for the show to begin.  While she had been present for thousands of such events, Lindy had always been seated on a toilet, and had never seen what happened between her buttocks, close up and brightly lit. 

Tyler cried out as the tiny asterisk of her anus began to bulge, like someone was pushing a fist against it from inside.   Then the tight distressed rear hole began to iris open.  Tyler was quite familiar with the inside of her rectum from seeing it through the glass tube of the thermometer while taking her temperature. 

But this was something else entirely.  A thick brown mass of the lady’s offal, tapered at the front end, was emerging.  There was nothing cute and pink about the tiny orifice of her anus any more.  Now it was no more than the escape route for a disgusting monster, slimy and smelling like evil.

The first stool was solid and fell into the jar with a distinct thump.  What followed was much lighter in color, thinner, and moving like a racecar through a tunnel.  Three beige ropes fell in rapid succession, followed by the first burst of brown water.  Then a soup-like mixture came out in a succession of gushes. 

Tyler needed both hands to control the container as the brown liquid onslaught blasted into it.  That left him unable to pinch his nostrils as the thick aroma of human manure gushing from the naked woman filled the room.  When a horse or a woman had to go, it had to go, and nothing could stop it.

When the torrent finally ceased, Lindy hung limply from the ceiling straps.  Tyler took the jar over to the cabinet, used large tweezers to extract the first, the only solid stool, put it in a container for later examination, and then put a lid on the large collecting jar to contain vile smell of the offal she had produced.  He was a practiced and capable assistant to his grandfather.



Now it was time for the additional work the vet had proposed to Derrick Crane.  Lindy remained standing in her bound position, her head at one end, her arms stretched overhead and her legs spread, presenting her vagina and rectum.  Gallagher had Tyler bring a wicker basket over, which held a small black metal box and large reel of heavy string.  He opened the box, and revealed a small curious looking contraption none of the others had before seen.

“This is to measure the length of her entire food channel, from her mouth to her rectum.  It’s a scientific instrument available only to people conducting animal science studies, such as I do.  It’s quite new, but I’ve tested it on both large and smaller animals, including a few her size.  The gut of a mid-sized pig is surprisingly close to the length of a human’s. 

This ‘driver’ pulls the string through her, from mouth to rectum, and we simply measure the string used.  It can be used by putting it in either direction, but I think for her we’ll put it into her mouth and let it work its way through her esophagus, stomach, small and finally her large intestine and colon until it at last reaches her rectum, spreads it and appears.  The view of it emerging from a woman’s anus can be quite stimulating.

Should you decide to have me horse her, the diet she’ll require will be easy to prepare and administer.  She can of course feed herself, but will require some monitoring to ensure the intake is precise.  In order to produce the preferred offal, we will need to know the precise length of her digestive system.  That’s the only reason I purchased this interesting device.

You will notice on six sides of it there are tiny rubber bumps.  These are its feet, and thanks to a small electric motor inside it moves the device through difficult areas.  Otherwise it has a flexible spine-like frame inside that allows it to wiggle like the tail of a sperm, and that is its main source of propulsion.  The string has a fine wire through its whole length which provides the necessary power.”

“My God, that looks like crud on the string,” Derrick said as the doctor unwound a bit of it.

“That’s precisely what it is,” Gallagher said.  “There’s not much need to clean it, since it only goes through the gut of animals, and not much can survive the strong acids you find in the small intestine.  It last went through a pig, about her size, and that was about 2 weeks ago.  It smells a bit, but she’ll be the only one who will notice the taste.  Pig poop is pretty clean, considering.”

Lindy realized she had sunk to a level below her idea of what an animal was.  She was being treated as a creature more disgusting than any animal she’d ever heard off.  She was, in their eyes, no more than a dung beetle.  This was completely disgusting!

The vet handed an electric cord to Tyler, and sent Emmy to fetch an extension cord.  When she brought it, properly plugged in, she handed the end to Tyler who plugged in the cord from the device.  “I think we have everything ready,” Gallagher said, and moved in front of Lindy.

The small device had no on switch, but was already running.  “You can see the twisting motion,” he said, “and the tiny feet are moving, so we’re all set!”  He placed the small device in Lindy’s mouth, and immediately it started to move.  It’s progress was slow but steady.  “It will move faster once its in her gullet.”

They watched, fascinated, as the vet moved the spool holding the string in front of her, so that the string the device was pulling would move into her smoothly.  “This is 75 pound fishing line, with a wire strung through its length for the power,” he said.  “For both the wiggling and the little feet, its total consumption is 1/50 horse power.  The pig poop stuck to it will dissolve inside her, lubricating it a bit to reduce wear on her gut as the string pulls through.”

Lindy wretched again, but to no avail as the little mechanical mouse worked its way down into her throat.  She could feel the tiny feet stroking the walls, and as the smart device sensed a bend, it began its wiggling action, helping it to proceed.  This ability to squirm would be beneficial when the tiny device had to navigate the tight bends it would encounter in her small intestine, and where the large intestine joined her colon, about a foot from Lindy’s rectum, she guessed.

She was glad the stout string pulled directly from the spool through her wide open mouth directly to her throat, keeping the dirty thing from touching her mouth where she could taste the dried pig crud that lined it.  Then the vet began pulling the cord off the spool so that it dangled and was pulled up over her lower lip and across her moist tongue to get to her throat. 

Now that it made contact with her tongue, her saliva was dissolving bits of pig shit as the filthy string was dragged through her mouth and she could taste the disgusting material that had been drawn out of the intestine of a living pig.  Lindy’s body continued to heave, limited by her bindings, but she was not able to produce the contents of her stomach as vomit.

It was more the notion than the reality that bothered her. The flavor of dried pig poop was not that strong, and soon her attention was fully applied to the weird feeling of the mechanical tractor tugging the string down into her stomach.  In fact, the pig offal, once moistened, served to lubricate the string so that it didn’t produce damage as it was being hauled through her own digestive system.

Suddenly she felt a warm spray on the side of her leg.  She couldn’t see him, but knew Tyler was standing there, his penis in his hand, pissing on her!  She could see the vet and Derrick standing talking, and they didn’t notice what the boy was doing.  “Don’t worry, lady,” Tyler said, “I like to piss on all of them, showing the filthy cunts due respect, but I’ll hose you down good with cold water after we’re done checking you.” 

“Don’t forget to save some for her other leg, lad,” Gallagher said.  Clearly he approved of his grandson treating her like an animal.  If they were more than animals, their owners wouldn’t use his vet services for them.

The process of drawing the string through her gut seemed to be endless, but in fact took only about forty-five minutes.  It felt weird rather than painful, and Lindy knew exactly how it was doing as it progressed slowly through her torso, following along her inside her winding and twisting intestines. 

Emmy was watching her in fascination, and positioned herself at the right time to witness the appearance of the little tractor device when it was in position to emerge.  She saw the woman’s exposed tight pink rectum slightly bulge, then slowly press open as the nose of the device made its way into the final portal, Lindy’s anus.

“Thar she blows!” she shouted in a little girl’s excited high voice.  Her shrill squeal caught their attention.  “It’s starting to come out of the cun…woman’s bum!”  The device, sensing the resistance of Lindy’s rectum, was wiggling as well as clawing with its tiny rubber feet, which bit by bit came out into the air where there was no flesh to grasp.

“Good girl, Emmy,” said the Vet, and moved to Lindy’s mouth, where he wrapped a piece of red tape around the string.  “From here to the tractor device is the length of her digestive system.  Now we need to retrieve the string from her to measure it.  Tyler, bring that little hand winch.  I’ll let you work it, if you like.”

Tyler was experienced, and knew what his grandfather needed.  He found it, brought it and set it up behind Lindy.  The vet pulled the remaining several feet of string from the spool, unplugged the wire, and brought the spool around to the rear and mounted it on the manual winch Tyler had set up. 

The tractor device had exited her rectum, and now hung by the string, swinging freely between her spread legs with nothing to grasp to propel itself forward.  Its job was done, and had been done well.  The string now ran through Lindy’s entire digestive tract, and the ingenious tractor device no longer required power.


Gallagher unfastened the string from the tractor and handed the little device to Emmy.  “Wash it good, sweetheart, we don’t need the lady’s poop to go back in the box with it.”  Emmy went off to do as she was bid, then stopped and turned.  “Don’t we need to get her poop off the string too?” she asked.

“Just clean the little tractor device,” he said, “that will do fine.  Her poop will dry.”  Gallagher gently pulled enough of the string out of Lindy’s rectum to attach it to the core of the spool. 

Derrick noticed that as he did, the string was amply coated with Lindy’s crap, and that didn’t seem to bother the vet.  The next woman to be internally measured would have to deal with ample bits Lindy’s shit going into her.  Tyler started to turn the spool slowly, and the stout fish line steadily emerged from her puckered starfish anus. 

While the boy worked the vet gave Lindy the relief of having the mouth stretcher removed.  She felt like her jaw was broken.  It had never before ached so much, but she was very happy to have it gone.  She wished she could have her mouth rinsed to remove the terrible taste of pig shit, but that was not to be.

Here she was, not yet on the Equestricunt estate, and she felt like she had more than earned the huge payment she had been promised.  How was she ever going to make it through a full year of such debasing treatment?

“Let’s get that whole string out of her, boy, so we can get her cleaned up and out of here,” Gallagher said.  That was music to Lindy’s ear, until the boy sped up his turning of the handle.  “Whoa, not too fast or you’ll damage the goods,” the vet said.  It took nearly 10 minutes to pull out the full length of string, at the slow rate prescribed by the vet.

“Let’s see how long her gut is!” said Gallagher when the entire length had emerged from her rectum, which was now mildly bleeding.  Derrick looked at the spots of blood, but the vet said that was too minor to pay attention to.  “Not a problem, that’ll heal before you get home.”  He pulled the cord from the pulley, measured the length from the loop that attached to the tractor device to the tape he had put on it, then entered the length into his notebook himself. 

Tyler took the hose to her, rinsing off his piss from her legs and then giving her entire body a thorough cold water flush.  This was both chilling and refreshing at the same time.  She couldn’t wait for them to unbind her, and she started to shiver, but they seemed to be in no hurry. 

“She’s a couple of feet longer than I’d have guessed,” the vet said as he went to the sink to wash her shit off his hands, “but she is a tall girl.  I’ve got what I need to make her poop just right, not this messy stinky stuff.  I can handle it if you ever want me to horse her for you.”

“That’s great,” Derrick said as the vet removed Lindy’s bindings so that she could once more stand up straight.  She felt like she’d been run through a ringer, and she literally had been.  Her examination was a bit of a shock to the system, and more so to her mind and self-image.  This whole adventure was far more about being a horse than she could ever have imagined. 

“I thank you, sir,” Gallagher said, “for allowing my grandchildren to observe and assist in your new mare’s examination.  She’s a real beauty, I’ll give you that,” he volunteered.  “But back to the kids.  Now that they know what a horse woman is, I’m wondering if you’d let me contribute to their education by bringing them out to your estate some weekend, to see the ladies in harness.  They’re both showing quite an interest in your human equestrian sport.  I’d sorta like to see for myself at the same time, if you’d allow it.”

“Well now, “ Derrick replied, after some consideration, “maybe that could be arranged.  Sometimes during their strength training we add weights to the sulkies to give them some ballast.  Adding weight is great for their cardiovascular, lungs and leg muscles.  Do you think the kids would like to ride along? 

“You got room for passengers on them little sulkies?” Gallagher asked, surprised at the suggestion.

“It would be snug.  The jockeys wouldn’t mind, if the children got naked, and were happy to ride in their laps, and,” winking knowingly at the old vet, “maybe take a bum-hole stretching by riding the midget jockeys’ erections.  My jockeys would be quite happy to accommodate them, as long as Tyler’s and Emmy’s rectums would willingly accommodate their dongs.  Might as well give them a complete education.  Before the session was over, they’d both be seeded, and have some warm white lubricant deposited deep inside their colons.”

Gallagher grinned broadly. “They’re both virgins, so far as I know, but there’s no time like the present to open their little pink rear portals to something more interesting than poop!”  He was thinking of getting his own shaft into their little bums.  “It would all have to be hush-hush, of course.  My daughter would not be amused to know I consented to having the kids done in that way.”

Both Tyler and Emmy had been listening.  Emmy said, “Tyler poked the handle of a spoon up my bum once, when we were playing doctor.” 

“You said you wanted me to,” Tyler responded, “And then you done the same to me, so we’re even.  Heck, we’ve done the same thing several times, we’re used to doing sexy things.  Emmy’s ridden my dink with her bum hole lots, so she knows what it’s all about.  It would be real special with these here horse women.”

“I’d like the chance to use a whip on one of them,” Emmy said, “Maybe even this one here. She looks like she could take a good spanking, and I’d love to be the one to give it to her.”

“I’ll bet midget dorks would be the right weapon to stretch their little rectums nicely, “Gallagher said, “just so long as we keep all of this between you and me, and don’t tell my daughter or their father, that tight-assed bible-thumping husband of hers.  I’m pretty sure these kids can keep a secret about something I’d let them do.”

“I can,” Emmy said.  “Besides, Daddy does me in my bum when Mommy’s at work.  He even swears and everything when he get too excited!”

“That fundamentalist hypocrite!” Gallagher said, “humping his little daughter’s fundament with his bible in hand! “
“Mum’s the word!” Derrick responded.  He decided he would invite some of his clients and their wives to enjoy the sport, including the delightfully entertaining process of deflowering of his new collection of children’s rectums.  Bum rape of the charming little girls would make a great afternoon of entertainment. 

Once the children were initiated into the sport, he might find a more interesting use for them, and for that impudent little Emmy in particular.  She was a cute kid, was curious, and seemed to have a mean streak in her.  Those were the kind of qualities Derrick Crane knew he could put to good use.

To be continued . . . . .

Offline Regis
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Re: MOST SECRET SOCIETY - The ultimate pony girl story, taken the distance.
« Reply #7 on: August 11, 2017, 10:34:12 AM »
To the silent majority of readers:  If you see something on this site you like, it's okay to let the author and other readers know, but hitting "Reply."  It lets the author know what she/he is writing is appreciated.  A reply would indicate that of all the people opening the file, some are actually reading the stories.

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A Shocking Announcement

The time had flown by as Lindy completed her Novice training and became a full-fledged filly.  Her superior athleticism allowed her to easily master the high stepping prance, and she could soon do it flawlessly at least 40 percent faster than any of the other girls in his stable, while maintaining the requisite high-stepping, cunt-displaying step.  She was definitely a potential champion.

Her sponsor had nearly doubled his stable by adding four gorgeous novices, girls Lindy recognized.  These dazzling new girls, all in their teens, had been skilled amateur and hyperactive cheerleaders for the now defunct basketball team she had starred in.  She correctly assumed he had found them through stalking her. 

These four were the most beautiful and athletic young ladies of the high-energy cheerleading group, all of them with long curly hair, remarkable figures, large firm breasts, and incredible legs.  They were a hit with basketball fans in their skimpy costumes, consisting of spike heeled red boots, red micro-skirts that regularly revealed white see-thru panties, and uplifting mini-halters that their bulging breasts regularly escaped with their high energy routines.

Their addition lowered the average age of girls in the stable, as these new fillies were all grade 9 to grade 12 high school girls, aged 14 to 17.  The enthusiastic horsegirl fanciers particularly liked long curvaceous and muscular legs on their stock, for ability, agility, strength and appearance, and clearly they liked them young.  These younger girls were only selected if they were tall for their age, and displayed impressive breast development.  These did.

The converted teen cheerleaders were now eagerly prancing about the field, trying to perfect the difficult high knee prance with its demanding knees apart, vagina display component.  They were still barefoot, required to always stand, walk and prance up on their tiptoes, constantly stimulated by the flick of a whip, developing the muscles that would give them the remarkable Pony Girl look to their legs, not yet ready for the tight-fitting hoof-boots that would later be custom fitted.

The Novice girls wore some rudimentary harness over their brazen nakedness, but were not yet hitched to anything, and each wore her training halter with the reigns tied in a bow high up behind her back.  Nothing was to interfere with access by a whip to the tender meat at the inside curve along their spines. 

None of these eager young girls had begun their piercing program that would commence once they were granted filly status.  The reigns were for now to control them when their handler wanted to do so.  They pulled on firm clips onto their vagina lips, which were not yet pierced with their own harness rings.

Lindy’s piercings had gone well, and were almost completed.  Only her large vagina or groin ring (she had not yet decided which she favored) remained to be done, and its insertion was scheduled for a week Tuesday.  She had chosen to have oval tubes inserted through her aureoles behind her nipples rather than the stout rings most women chose. 

Having metal-lined holes through the tips of her breasts gave her a thrill, and they were as important to her as the fresh tattoos of her sponsor she proudly wore behind her ears and on the under sides of her breasts.  Like with the heavier stout metal rings, her breast-flesh swelled out to embrace the edges of the hefty inserts. 

She loved the feel of her reigns sliding through them, as it gave her a feeling of unreserved and irreversible full emersion into her voluntary servitude.  She was accepting of the fact that her reins were made of leather peeled from living women in a show of extreme sadism for the entertainment of people who were turned on watching excesses beyond imagining.  The women were no longer in pain after their supreme sacrifice, and she love the feel of fine human leather, reins that were hers alone.

The woman-leather reigns were threaded through these tubes and crossed below her breasts, running over her ribs and hips.  They then ran around her thighs at the base of her buttocks to attach to large rings in her flared inner vulva lips, so that any command from the hands of her handler went directly to her cunt by first sliding through her breast tubes and crossing much of her torso.  This made her feel privileged, pampered and special.

She loved the feel of the reigns sliding through these erotic tubes piercing the tips of her breasts whenever her handler used them, and of the woman-leather sliding on her naked ribs and hips, transferring the tugs directly to her inner labia.  This arrangement gave her midget handler’s woman-whip free access to her back, buttocks and vulva, in order that his stinging instructions to her body via the flipping or lashing whip against her cunt would be clear and unambiguous. 

This attachment of her reigns also held her inner vulva lips widespread, giving the tip of the whip full access to the inner flesh of her pink moist vestibule.  Lindy knew that a man drew his greatest pleasure in using a whip on a woman by striking the tender sensitive meat of her sex organ, and she wanted above all else for her skilled handler and her sponsor to be pleased with her.  She well knew stinging her vagina with their whips would please them.

As a cart-Filly, she had been teamed with a full-fledged Pony Girl to pull a sulky made for 2, and they pulled Derrick Crane and a girl he’d brought to today’s races to show her the ropes!  Mr. Crane was getting quite aggressive in building his brood of Pony Girls, about to add a 10th, when only three months ago he had possessed only 4, one of them brand new.  It was clear he was planning on becoming highly competitive and perhaps dominant in the nude female sport.

Lindy had progressed quickly in learning and being able to sustain the high stepping movements required of an equestrian woman.  She was a quick learner, and with her highly developed athleticism she was able to master the requisite high-knee, vagina-displaying quick prance. 

She had also embraced the lifestyle of a pampered animal of servitude, an absolute requirement in order to succeed as, according to what the sponsors and other girls in the small brood called themselves, Equestricunts.  She was quite happy to be considered pussy-on-the-hoof, and have her life revolve around her sexual core.

Her advanced progress had earned her a position on the poletree beside a highly experienced Pony Girl now on her third contract extension. She would be a very wealthy woman when she retired from the sport.  This was an honor, and she was delighted for the opportunity to attend a real event, serving in the transport of her Lord and master, and his guest. 

She had attended only 3 other events to date, pulling a sulky driven by her jockey, and this time was different.  On her first visits to events, she moved around in the stock containing area, where Equestricunts were prepared for races, and where they were then washed down afterwards.  This time she would be in a position to observe much more of what went on, and perhaps even witness some of the races.

It was at these events she saw a few of the young women she had played basketball against.  They performed well. Clearly the folding of the league made for some excellent recruiting opportunities, and presented prospects similar to the one she had accepted.  The Most Secret Society was in a growth mode, and for the right women could offer a great turnaround from their resulting desperate financial situation.

The Hansom cart she was harnessed to, with two full-grown riders, was much heavier than the sulky used in training by her midget handler, and both women strained to provide the swiftness required, communicated by the liberally applied forceful lashes of Derrick’ flailing buggy whip.  He was showing both the women pulling his cart and the woman he was working to impress, that he was in total control.

The weekend-long regional event had just begun, held in a huge open-pit mine in the northwest corner of Forsythe County, 40 miles north of Atlanta.   The mine was still operational, but was owned by a man with a stable of horsewomen, which meant he had the necessary security for such an event. 

The sizable property was both closed and sealed for the entire weekend.  It was equipped with 12-foot fences, topped by inter-woven rolls of razor wire, which would be impossible to cross.  Armed guards patrolled the perimeter, far from where the erotic action was taking place.

Lindy had just witnessed her first pony-girl race, an exciting half-mile sprint by young girls, most of them under 20, a few as young as 15, all of whom had just reached the coveted mare status.  They were not yet anywhere near professional level, but their hearts were definitely in it, and that showed.

The Most Secret Society had today for the first time demonstrated the need to be so secretive.  They had just staged the first junior race, with all of the naked girls in that category, all inexperienced, and all of them only 12 years old, and all pre-pubescent, none of them showing the beginnings of breast development or pubic hair growth on their puffy mons.  This was far beyond the mandate Derrick Crane had told her about. 

Lindy thought it was exciting to see youngsters were getting to compete in these purely adult activities, performing naked like adults, and accepted into the sport for what they could contribute to its success.  The announcements had been right.  This was proving to be a progressive Society.

There were 25 Equestricunt stables participating this weekend, and 18 of those had entered a total of 32 new mares, all of them gaining their first experience in real competition.  The harnessed nude sulky- pulling girls ran in groups of 4, and when each group had produced a winner, there were two semifinals leading to a final sprint by the two top racers. 

Lindy was surprised at how fast the girls ran, pulling their little sulkies, and at how effective the whips were, particularly when applied to their exposed genitalia, at producing needed extra effort and speed.  These girls were committed racers, and clearly had much more experience with and tolerance to the lash of the whip than she had.

Her jockey lashed the sides, breasts and legs of the girl in second place mercilessly as she came up along side them, trying unsuccessfully to pass, and her lower back and buttocks were openly bleeding before the end of the race.  It was clear to Lindy the girl deeply loved her sponsor to take such a sound thrashing from the pitiless jockey.


The race was just completed and the members who bet on the winner were collecting their payout when the mine’s horn blasted three times.  The jockeys raced their naked human steeds back to the starting point, and all of the others moved to a gathering point on the broad top of a gravel hill.

The girls who had just finished their race were brought up to stand at the side of the gathered group.  They were sweating profusely from the exertion of the race.  With their arms bound behind their backs and their martingales holding their heads severely back as they leaned forward in their harness, breasts swinging, they were unable to wipe the accumulating sweat from their eyes. 

Lindy felt they were all quite exposed, gathering on the clear space on top of the hill, and then realized the dense forest that surrounded the mine covered hundreds of acres, and that the nearest civilization, a few warehouses, were more than a mile away.  One of the sponsors, who appeared to be in charge of the event, stood up on a cart and with a loud clapping of his hands drew immediate silence.

“Ladies, gentlemen, jockeys, fillies and mares,” he began.  Lindy was surprised he mentioned the contracted nudes, who like her were in total servitude.  What was coming was obviously going to be a very important announcement, one that impacted on all of them.  This was clearly an important announcement.

“As you are well aware, our operations as horsegirl fanciers date back many decades, and we have been operating on rules, procedures and protocols last updated more than 40 years ago.  There has been some considerable pressure to change, not only from newer members, but also from some of our well-established veteran members who recognize how the world, and it’s morals, are rapidly changing.   

“With lengthy experience in the sport, they recognize that our current framework restricts growth in our numbers and reasonable expansion of our tastes, which have been well served up until now by our many stables of lovely contract women!  Without them, we have no sport.”

Applause for the Horse Women and Pony Girls present let them know their efforts and servitude were well appreciated.  The nude females in harness appreciated this rare recognition of them.  Their participation, cooperation and general contribution was what made this whole outrageous operation work.

“There is also a stirring in the loins of many sponsors to work from the excellent base we have established and to expand our range and depth of activities.  Many of these believe its time for us to move from an erotic sport to one that incorporates some, shall I say, more of a sadistic flavor.  If pain and humiliation of our stock is what pleases us, why not improve and expand our efforts to further feed our lust and passion?

“Should we adapt such a direction, it will require that we quickly identify and single out those horse ladies with a proven streak of masochism.  I believe most of those already in our possession are in our service not only for reasons of exhibitionism, but also because they exhibit such a trait, despite most of them are unaware of that pre-disposition to being harmed.

“To achieve that shift will require some significant changes to our contracting arrangements with the young women we bring in, and also to those we already have in service.  Those of you on the Regional Council have been attending a series of meetings with this kind of change as the major agenda, for input of recommendations to the National Council. 

“Last evening the National Council met, and after several hours of debate and deliberation, concluded a history-making agreement at 4:30 this morning.  They brought together the input from around the Nation, as well as from valued international affiliate members, and have brought about the following amendments to our articles of incorporation, and in that regard have introduced some serious re-design of our purpose and practices.”

There was a murmur among the members, and also more than a little interest from the naked ladies in harness, who knew better than to speak. Those fitted with bits in their mouths could not of course utter a coherent sound, but those like Lindy who obtained direction from their jockeys by reigns attached to their vagina lips had their mouths free, but had the wisdom to not utter a sound.  Their opinions would not be welcomed.

“The major change under discussion is a merger with all four European and Eastern European Equestricunt Societies to form a truly international association, which shall be known as Equestricunts International.  The National Board has determined that we shall alter our restrictive rules on the use of women to conform to those far more liberal practices of our new valued European associates. 

“The SE Asians and South Americans also want in, as do a couple of Societies in the Middle East.  We will probably accept them.  This will likely very soon become a global community, and to respect all members, we may very soon have to abandon all restrictions, allowing members to do as they please.  I for one see this as a highly progressive move, and one toward which we should all move forward swiftly.

“The merger of our groups has the potential to open up some very perverse new erotic activities.  There already exist, as many of you will know, quite active Cunt Hunt associations, gun and archery clubs that hunt nude women for sport, like venison.  We have the chance to attract them into our organization, but only by adapting our activities to conform with theirs, thereby vastly increasing our own range of exciting activities.

“Bringing the international groups into our fold will allow us to extensively expand on our core of Equestricunt activity, to develop and practice more diverse activities, and to appeal to those with a much broader range of interests.  Possibilities are limitless.  Due to the total secrecy that we are able to maintain, we can also reject any limitations on the age of girls we can use, freely admitting prepubescent little girls to our stables.  But just a minute, I’m getting ahead of myself.

“Any Societies and groups that join us will of course recognize our standards, but many of those standards are outdated and even archaic, based upon 1960’s values. The final direction must be toward the more advanced, permissive direction taken by our new associates, providing a far more open unrestricted use and abuse of our girls and women. 

Can you imagine the thrill of converting an Equestricunt to a naked deer girl for hunting?  I’ve obtained half a dozen new young beauties that wouldn’t require extensive Equestricunt training if I converted a part of my estate to a hunting range.  I’m going to have to obtain a new bow, and take archery lessons!

“It is imperative we remove much of their access to choice, and to create a new class of Equestricunts, into which all of our females will be folded, so that they become in a legal sense our freehold chattel, and in more than one way become no more than cunts at our disposal.  Isn’t that a wonderful notion?

“The ladies will convert, if you like, from contractors to our personal property.  They will, in plain language, become immediately our possessions, entirely removing from them any sense of self or of human rights or of any particular value, other than as domesticated animals to be used for the amusement of ourselves and our friends. 

“Any consideration of carrying forward existing undertakings, contracts and agreements with the ladies will be entirely at the discretion of the person, sponsor or organization that as of now fully possesses them.  ”

There was a burst of cheer from the members, and a shudder that went through the nude ladies in harness.  This was a serious, radical change in how things worked, and would seriously impact and in most cases nullify all agreements in place.  Money would as of now no longer be an incentive, but rather survival would be their main motivator.

“We will, in the interests of conforming and also in modernizing our aging rules, be abandoning most restrictions on the extent of body alterations and modifications, as well as on general treatment and use of our incoming stock.  Now before you get too excited, let me assure you we will be honoring our agreements with current Fillies, Pony Girls and Horse Women, to some degree. 

“To what extent this statement is true, of course, is entirely at the pleasure of current sponsors, who will henceforward be known as the ladies’ Owners.” 

Lindy was further surprised that the question she asked herself  at that moment was immediately answered.  Everything he said in clarification of the new agreement simply deepened the pit.  In a single unilateral motion, the collective Societies had just reintroduced slavery.

Except now the slaves were no longer determined by color, but instead primarily by gender, athleticism and sexual desirability.  Her only chance at retaining any level of personal choice was to please her Sponsor, now called her Owner, which translated automatically into her Lord and Master.

“For all the Novices signed in the last 3 months, and Nationally we have more than 400 of them, the paperwork they signed off on contained special clauses to cover the contingency of this merger.  These clauses, among other things, give full power of attorney to our lawyers.

“We anticipated the current merger would happen, and with it the substantial alteration to our procedures, with which these agreements will have to be adjusted to fully conform with the new Society standards.  That clause I referred to gives our people full access to their bank accounts and personal possessions. 

“This will be a bit of a surprise to them, to learn that now they will not become wealthy women upon leaving, because in most cases they will not be earning their way out of and thence leaving our services.  All such agreements contain a clause stating that if the merger goes ahead, as it has now done, all service agreements signed within the stipulated closing period automatically become void.”

This was stunning news.  The organization Lindy had contracted with through her sponsor was no longer that organization, but something entirely different, in a state of rapid flux and, she thought, would possibly become something quite sinister.  What would become of the many promises Derrick Crane had made to her?  Thank God she had signed on 4 months ago, not 3.

The spokesman continued, “Several of the Eastern European Secret Societies know no bounds in their debauchery, and that women are never signed into servitude unless they are grossly masochistic, but are instead abducted and forced into service, because the chances of survival from participating in their decadent and unscrupulously violent sports are at best slim. 

“The girls and women who enter into their servitude never gain freedom from them, but either die from unconscionable abuse or are purposefully killed while in service.  It is all about thrilling the members, entirely at the expense of the stable of naked captive women.

“The tough horsegirl fanciers of the eastern European countries have never been easy on their female stock; they are completely and unapologetically degenerate in their abuse of naked women in the gross cruelties they call sports, and their ladies are forced to play for keeps. 

“In addition to horsewomen, they cultivate nude female fighters, who’s sole objective in the ring is to render her opponent bloody and unconscious.  I say ring in the loosest form of the term; some of them use a pit for the fights, and one of the Societies actually uses a 2” thick 8’ square glass plate, elevated eight feet so some of the observers see the fight from underneath. 

“This interesting device has no ropes or railing, and often a girl will fall off.  If she doesn’t break her neck, something breaks when she falls, and her opponent jumps down to make sure she is down to stay.  To add spice to the fight, the girls will fist fuck each other, hammering on the uterus. 

“For some fights, girls 5 months or more pregnant will engage in the vicious fist-fucking uterus-pounding, and at least one of them will abort, right there in the ring or in the pit.  The men will ejaculate in their pants when the sprog is popped, while their wives scream with excitement at the unscheduled birthing.”

Lindy thought she was going to lose her lunch when she heard this.  At least those crazies were many thousands of miles away, and unlikely to influence the more sophisticated American Societies.  She would die if the sex sports she found amazing turned instead into death sports.

“Some of these more cruel, merciless societies, for the final bout of the night, will provide their tougher nude fighters with small bladed jackknives, that can seriously damage an opponent before she is killed.  These knives are capable of ripping open a woman without damaging her viscera, which is often extracted just as a crowd pleaser. 

“When the internal organs follow the viscera to freedom from the internal cavity, the fighter does not live long.  As you well know, many of us find progressive events in which the outcome is determined by a kill to be very exciting and satisfying.  If you’ve never attended one, once you do you’ll be hooked.

Instant discussion broke out among the listeners, but was interrupted as he continued.  “One other major change.  We have purchased a new training facility that includes a mansion, three relatively new large barns and a great deal of space, including a large pasture and large wooded area.  A 12 foot electric fence will be built around the secluded property, and it will be dedicated to the collection, education and training of young children, primarily little girls.

Hence-forward, there will be no lower restrictions on the age of participants, and full care and preparation will be provided to any youth members may wish to deposit there.  It will be ready for the first arrivals next month, and members are instructed to place a brand between the buttocks to identify their personal stock before depositing them in the care of the facility’s staff.”

There was a round of cheers as a statement of unanimous approval.

When the hubbub finally subsided, the speaker completed his report. “Regarding the standards set by the Eastern Europeans, we could develop the same capability for running lethal fights, using to begin with tough inner-city girls, well trained in all of the fighting arts by experts like rogue Navy Seals, and then we could grow our new sport and stage new international competitions.  It would be amazing, but I’m well into speculation.  At least I’ve given you all something fresh to think about.”


Lindy had learned enough while in service as a Pony Girl to know that the Eastern European groups’ stock of girls and women were made up almost entirely of forcefully abducted women and young girls who simply one day disappeared from the face of the earth.  Even wealthy society and professional women were at risk, and a few of such found their way into the stables of North American sponsors.  She knew personally two who had been successful New York lawyers, and another who had been a serious and successful Hollywood actress.  Now, like herself, they were full time captive Equestricunts.

Several of the European, SE Asian as well as South American Secret Societies had no lower restrictions on age, and she learned the shocking news from other pony girls that a few such Societies entirely featured youth, using some as young as 7 for nude jockeys, and in some of those cases none of their naked and trained horse girls were older that 15. 

From some backward villages with very large families, because of uncontrolled breeding, it was very easy to obtain children, with the promise they would be given a better life, education, and become as wealthy as their buyers.  Anything could be promised, because there was never any way for their parents to check.  All they knew was that they had some easy cash to squander in whatever way they wished, and one less mouth to feed.

Most of the Caucasians were abducted from Eastern Europe, because of their striking beauty, their hot-blooded attitudes and most of all because of their relatively easy accessibility.  Eastern European men thought little of kidnapping and selling city and village females, which sometimes were their own neighbors or relatives, for the quick easy cash.

She also learned that now that the rules had been relaxed, several of the Societies in the Atlantic district were using captive women, including children, to enhance their stables without the usual inconvenience of restrictions.  She attended an event where a trio of blonde fully naked 11-year-old girls were used to pull the sponsor’s cart.  All were fully trained, meaning they had been in service since before the merger occurred.  It seemed the sponsor was anticipating success of the union, and had prematurely assembled and prepared additional stock accordingly.

If the North American Societies could renege on their agreement with all those novice women, what was to keep them from later on backing out on their agreement with her, which was just moments ago, with promised bonuses, worth a million dollars to her?  She noticed the others were looking equally nervous.  She noted there were no Novices present at this event.

“As partial compensation for the unexpected changes in status, circumstances and expectations,” the man making the startling announcement to the assembled members and pony girls said, “with no legal obligation, of course, some of us may choose to apply a small portion of the money saved on avoiding final payout toward some form of benefit to the ladies whose lives we now fully own. 

“I must point out that this will, of course, be entirely voluntary, and I think most of you will understand and agree with the notion that any show of consideration or kindness toward our possessed ladies is entirely counter to the direction we have all now agreed to take.  After all, our enjoyment of them is derived from the level of anxiety and distress we put upon them.”

Lindy’s heart sank, and she could sense the same happening at the same time among the other naked girls in harness around her.

“As most of you know, there are also a large number of secretive organizations with activities similar to but more extensive than ours, operating throughout North and South America, as well as throughout Europe.  These operate much further beneath the radar than our groups, and have absolutely no bounds to their behavior.  Disposing of beautiful women for sport is their primary objective.

“It requires long-time membership in a group such as ours simply to be considered as a guest at one of their events, due to the excessively harsh treatment of their human horses and ponies, and it requires active participation in their events for five years, and participating in the sports killing of at least 3 of the captive women, to simply be considered for membership.

“Some of our members hold membership with some of them as well, and know the lengths these other Secret Societies will go to in order to satiate their lust, and all at the expense of the women and girls they possess.  I say possess because the young women in their service have, in going into their service, given up all rights to be considered a person.  Very few are there by choice.  The main difference between a horse and a horsegirl is that they respect and treat a horse well.

“I know for a fact that several of our members have actively participated in torture contests in Ukraine, Hungary, Romania, Kazakhstan and Bulgaria in which the objective of the sport was the killing of beautiful young women engaged in extended ear-splitting screaming competitions.  Before some of the women died, their throats were raw and bleeding, and they couldn’t produce more than a girgle.  It was hilarious.

The only such event I have personally witnessed was a hanging competition to determine which gorgeous naked young lady would continue kicking the longest as she was hanged, and which would be the first to lost bladder control and urinate for the cheering audience, and which would empty her colon first. 

“Several of these Societies, those who fancy horsegirls, although they have a much broader range of interests and activities, are also part of this merger, and several of you who have been actively campaigning in this regard will be delighted to know that we are, in most cases, completely relaxing our limitations on the extent of our activities to conform with theirs as well.  We will systematically reduce and then completely remove all restraint on the use and abuse of our female stock, and the severity of the events we have them perform in.”

There was an audible gasp.

“The exception, of course, is that we will for now respect most of our commitments to the ladies, on a voluntary basis, and although these other Societies need not drop any of their current activities, we will not be generally adapting their extreme S&M or Terminal Torture evenings within our groups.

“As for now we can simply attend their events from now on, until we decide on our own to move further in that direction, as I believe most of us will.  From informally poling our members, I believe that shift in emphasis, and our acceptance of violent kill sports and shows may come sooner rather than later.

“They are still negotiating to see how far we will adopt their policies.  For our part, we remain open to their ideas, and will certainly allow them to cater to the more extreme tastes of their own members, precisely as they have been doing.  As an example, as you know, we limit breast and buttock brands to 1/8th inch deep.  They will not permit a woman to compete in their games unless she is properly branded to their standards, and her brands on her breasts and buttocks are a full inch deep. 

The previous shallow brand limit is now no longer in place for our woman branding.  All new brands must now conform to the world standard.  I have adjusted the brands on my own women, and I must say, the new depth produces magnificent and enduring screams, and the brands are clearly visible from a distance.

“We will, in addition, now permit our members to utilized less desirable females in our possession, and to recruit more, for experimentation without limit, to enable development of interesting and progressive new body alterations, and to test survivability of more severe modifications. 

To do this science properly, of course, it will be necessary that some of the participants will die.  That will be in order to determine the limits of the female body when Their deaths are simply seen as a regular part of the cost of doing business. 

“Some of you, anticipating this merger, have already begun with some stunning innovations.  I, for example, have successfully developed a method to do away with bulky ankle cuffs, simply by piercing a large ring behind the Achilles tendon on showgirls.  The tendon rings themselves qualify as hobbles, as they severely and admirably restrict the ankle-pierced woman’s movement. 

“We’re working to change that, so that they will require a short chain joining them.  A friend’s personal surgeon has amputated a few women’s hands and wrists at mid-forearm, and joined the bitch’s arm stumps end-to-end to create a handsome brace that squeezes forward and lifts the lady’s breasts. 

“When the woman has large breasts this new brace made of her arms remains in place under her breasts, and in any case a woman having undergone this operation no longer has, as a positive side effect, the ability to get her arms in the way of lashes from the whip.

“These procedures somewhat reduce the women’s athletic ability, but I’m working on a way to get past that.  Those that are hobbled with the ankle piercing can’t race, but they are suitable for pulling a cart at a walk.  With some experimentation, these hobble rings could be made to permit free movement when not chained.

“I have determined to take a lead role in body modification experiments.  To stock my stables with suitable subjects for our trials, my recruiters have provided me with a number of homeless young Atlanta street women for our experiments.  Most of them are the scum of the earth, working as prostitutes, total body masseuses, beggars and the like.

“As a side-benefit, our revised activities remove these often pretty but otherwise uncultured and undesirable creatures from City streets, which is a real service to the citizens of Atlanta.  To be good citizens ourselves, we must contribute to the good of our State, and this is an ideal way for us to quietly do so, while providing fresh stock for our frequently fatal body modification experiments.” 

The man making the startling announcement continued, providing more outrageous (to the ladies) information.  “There will also be some major revisions to racing rules, making way for demands our members have been making to modernize actions during races, including adding obstacles, hurdles, traps, leg snares, as well as removal of most of the outdated restrictions on the extensive use of whips on our lovely racing girls. 

“If losing women deserve to have the flesh whipped off their backs, we require the freedom to satisfy that need.  Our jockeys are willing, but we hobble them with antiquated restrictions on how far they may go.  Simple bleeding welts are not of much interest, when a jockey has the ability to strip the skin off the back and buttocks of his Mare, laying it bare. 

We are also dropping restrictions on the damage a jockey or owner can do to the gentiles of a woman.  If a whip with metal barbs, for example, is capable of removing cunt-meat from a woman to produce more enhanced screams, we must allow it if it satisfies the owners, if we wish to move our novel sport forward.

“These improvements are all designed to enhance our enjoyment of the races, to increase the potential for gambling profits, as well as to dramatically increase performance of our high-stepping nude performers with the application of considerably more additional whip stimulation.  The entire set of new rules, as well as for old restrictions dropped for our North American Societies, agreed to by all parties, will be posted in the next e-mail newsletter, due out tomorrow by about noon.”

Lindy blanched, quivering in her harness and hoofed open-heeled boots.  As a contracted woman she was an active participant in the Society, and she had not been asked about, and had certainly not agreed to anything he was saying.  Everything she had heard in this highly provocative announcement would directly impact her, radically altering what was required she endure, in order to claim her huge cash prize at the end of her tenure, should that now even be possible. 

Based on the imposition of changes just announced, she was certain she would depart from the Society at the first opportunity, which could not occur before the anniversary of her becoming involved as an athletic Pony Girl only a few short months ago.  There were no other chances to leave, and none would be provided, unless of course her sponsor fired her on grounds of disruption or non-performance, in which case she would forfeit all claim to payment. 

Performance issues or disruptive behavior would simply subject her to brutally severe punishment, and her sponsor had the means to do this to the point she would quickly fall into line, which meant there was no chance she could ever find an exit from her duly signed agreement to live in subjugation. 

He had her by the short ones, which was a meaningless figure of speech, as all of her short ones had been permanently plucked, and a prolonged dip in the defoliation tank had ensured any follicles below her neckline had been permanently rendered incapable of producing hair.

This was going ‘way past serious, and she, like all of the others, was having somber second thoughts about renewing her commitment to serve as a prancing cunt.  She was, after all, a capable woman who had excelled at sports, and was quite competent scholastically.  She was a star, and he had already totally transformed her, in a remarkably short time, from an independent woman into a beautiful but subservient human animal.

This Derrick Crane, her sponsor, had caught her at a very bad time in her life, when she was susceptible to the outrageous offer he made to her, and which was so financially attractive he knew she was certain to accept.  She had no regrets up until now, but with this startling new announcement she was having serious second thoughts.  This radical new approach changed everything.

Her reins slid slightly through the tubes behind her nipples, skimmed across her ribs and hips, across the bass of her buttocks and pulled wide the inner lips of her vagina, fully exposing the moist vestibule.  Mr. Crane’s whip slapped up between her legs, striking her exposed inner flesh with a stinging blow. 

With an automatic response due to her thorough training and quick learning, she immediately began the high stepping, knees apart pacing, along with her teammate, and the cart moved off toward the horse trailer that had brought them, their pointed tits and distended cunts on full display.  Several members admired their openly exhibited genitals as they passed.  Lindy was headed toward yet another phase of her life at Mr. Crane’s stables.

The vehicle toward which they were headed was a regular horse trailer transformed for its new use, and was ready for them.  The two pulling the cart moved up the ramp, pulling their small cart up behind them.  They would remain standing and harnessed to the cart for the ride home. 

Mr. Crane and the very attractive young woman he had brought as his guest stepped off the cart, the spike heels of her shoes striking the wooden floor of the trailer, reminding the two nudes in harness of footwear they were completely familiar with but never saw or got to wear in their arrangement with the Society in their roles of naked servitude.  Horses wear only horse shoes.

Lindy took comfort in the sure knowledge the girl with her Master was already in beyond the point of no return, and that the new rules just announced would all apply to her.  There would be no big payoff at the end of her time as a human horse.  She was too new to the Society and excited by Mr. Crane’s promises to understand the implications of the unbelievably radical announcement she had witnessed. 

In her eyes, the changes to the agreements only applied to the horsewomen she saw at the event, but not to her.   After all, she was special.  Lindy and her work partner heard Mr. Crane assuring the young woman of that repeatedly as she had sat behind them with him.  She was already under his complete control.

The gorgeous teenage girl in her spike heels, bare legs, micro-short skirt and open blouse revealing most of her up-thrust breasts was being groomed to become no more than eye candy as a naked cart-horse, and with the changes to the operation, there was no telling what her future would be after her short-lived appeal as a naked pony passed. 

The girl was much more vulnerable than Lindy and the rest of the women in service to the hot winds of change.   She had yet to sign a contract, but as star-struck as she appeared to be, she would probably not have to.  She was in, fully committed, and would likely have no choice in anything that happened to her, or that she would be required to do.


To be continued . . . . .

Offline Regis
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To the silent majority of readers:  If you see something on this site you like, it's okay to let the author and other readers know, but hitting "Reply."  It lets the author know what she/he is writing is appreciated.  A reply would indicate that of all the people opening the file, some are actually reading the stories, and one or two might enjoy them, and want more.

Offline jackstraw
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Love how you've tweaked this since I last saw it, Regis!

Offline E-Sarah

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You know I love your stories Regis!  >:D  :emot_kiss.gif:
Make the little sluts pay in pain for being happy.

Offline Regis
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Thanks Jack and E-Sarah.  Two positive responses is much better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.  You comprise just over 1% of those who've opened this story, but a highly valued 1%.  You may have some company in the nearly 99% who chose to remain obscured by their silence.

Offline Regis
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Things were going as badly as Lindy had feared.  A new barn had gone up in just a few weeks, and Derrick Crane had stocked it with a horde of pretty little girls, which the Equestricunts learned had been abducted from a weekend wilderness camp.  They had been taken in the middle of the night, their guides and chaperones, also taken, had been fast asleep, thanks to a strong sedative placed in their bedtime hot chocolate.

These captive children had attended a group of affiliated church-sponsored private girls’ schools, all of them from grades two to six, ages seven to eleven. Now they had all been removed from society, to serve what for them was a new society.  They were all in the same situation as the large barn full of Equestricunts.  Derrick Crane had crossed yet another line.  Where would he stop?

The children had been harnessed into groups of five, and each group pulled a cart driven by an adult Equestricunt.  The intent was to teach them discipline, teamwork of the most rudimentary manner under the lash of buggy whips, and to exhaust them. 

This novel activity afforded the captive Equestricunts the opportunity to experience the use of the whip from the other end, which was entirely different.  Lindy loved it.  They had set out at noon, and the children were forced to keep moving on a rugged trail until 10 in the evening. 

Ten hours was longer than most of the little girls were able to contain the processed food that had moved through their digestive tract, and as time went by, many of them left their mark along the trail.  This was not a surprise to the female drivers, who had often had to do the same thing.

When they finally returned to the barn, the nude youngsters received a quick meal, and then were bundled off to their stalls and taught how to make a bed of straw.  The children were reluctant and cranky, and the Equestricunts were empowered to use a cane to control them. 

All of the naked little girls at last settled after a sound spanking by handlers on their bare bottoms.  Finally the Equestricunts, who taught the kids the skills of making a straw bed, were permitted to go to their own stalls to bed down, and they were as exhausted as were the little girls, but much happier.

Lindy’s mind struggled to focus as she was abruptly awakened in the middle of the night.  She was hurried out of her stable to an awaiting limousine.  The butler didn’t even give her a chance to use the washroom to freshen up.  She sat alone, naked in the back, was told nothing of where she was going, and knew much better than to enquire. 

The butler, riding in front with the chauffeur, turned and gave her a 2-quart bottle of apple juice.  She knew she would be expected to finish it before they arrived at their destination, wherever that was.  She assumed correctly her Lord and Master Derrick Crane had need of her services, and for some reason she would require a full bladder.

This kind of abrupt change to her routine was not unusual, at any time of day or night, but she had never before been taken off the estate in a limo.  She knew little of what she was able to see along the roadway that would provide her a clue.  She had, through being owned by a Master, been effectively reduced to an object.

Lindy now viewed herself as being even barely a sex object, and had no right to opinion regarding what was demanded of her.  The circumstances of her relationship with the world had altered drastically recently, but it all seemed to move naturally in the direction they had taken.  Incorporating little girls into the stable seemed to be a natural development, as things were going, and the new direction had evolved rather rapidly after her joining the services of her Master Derrick Crane. 

What was not at all natural was how she had, to her surprise, easily slid into a mental state of total acceptance of her restraining plight.  The beautiful and capable young woman was now no more than an animal bound in his service, and was subject to the most bizarre whims of her Master.

The butler told her Mr. Crane was enjoying an evening out with friends, and to amuse themselves, the men had on the spur of the moment decided to engage in an interesting game of chance, testing the abilities of a top Equestricunt in their stables, the most worthy.

The purpose of the friendly competition was to demonstrate their top Equestricunts were capable of taking a measured risk.  He asked if Lindy would risk everything for her sponsor.  She promptly answered in the affirmative, not certain what he was talking about, but knowing no other answer would be acceptable.

40 minutes after departing Derrick Crane’s estate and moving rapidly along a side road, the driver pulled the limo into a discrete driveway and followed a twisting lane through trees, past a guarded gate through a high electrified fence topped with coils of razor wire, until at last it came to a stop on beautifully maintained grounds outside a barn, a short but discrete distance from the mansion. 

A butler opened the limo door and escorted her across the yard into the large converted farm building.  It was not unlike the barn she lived in, Derrick Crane’s purpose-built facility to accommodate his growing string of Equestricunts.  This one was much older, and appeared to have once served as a horse barn, probably for thoroughbreds.

The stables were now filled with nude horsewomen, sleeping in stalls not unlike hers.  They were now awakened by the arrival of the limousine that carried Lindy.  Most of them were sitting up, curious to see whom the vehicle had brought in the middle of the night. 

The disturbed ladies in their straw-filled stalls appeared to be disappointed, as the hubbub was about nothing but the arrival of another naked Equestricunt.  One by one the disgruntled naked ladies put their heads down as they lay back to resume their rudely interrupted sleep. 

The butler pulled the large handle on the extravagantly decorated cherry wood door that opened into an unusually large and opulent tack room.  At an oak card table sat 4 men, drinking single malt whisky.  One of them was Derrick Crane.  Another was the owner of the estate and the collection of horsewomen Lindy’s arrival had awakened. 

The third and fourth men were sponsors Lindy had seen at the events she had attended.  There was also a stableman beside each of the men, including her Lord and Master, and they all carried coiled whips.  These men were not jockeys but were punishers.  She knew she was in for a painful night of severe and brutal action.

Beside the other three men stood magnificent nude horsewomen, standing high on their tip-toes, wearing only light harness.  Whatever was about to take place, their harness would not play a role, as it was too light for work, and was clearly just decoration to identify them in their subservient positions. 

The three women were all breathing heavily and openly perspiring from what had obviously been very recent energetic activity.  She was not looking forward to whatever it was that would follow.  Obviously what they had in store for her would require substantial exertion.  This would not be a problem for the athletic Equestricunt.

Horsewoman tack covered the walls, and there were three large treadmills set in a row near the card table.  In the corner was an 8-inch square vertical post rising from the floor up through a round hole in the 12-foot-high ceiling.  Hanging along its entire length were rope loops set a yard apart on both sides and offset, so that one occurred every 18 inches. 

Derrick Crane pointed to the post, and said to Lindy, “I want you to climb it, up through the hole in the ceiling, until your feet disappear through the hole, and then come back down, using only your hands, not your feet.” 

Without hesitation she moved on her tiptoes, as all properly trained horsewomen did, over to the corner and quickly began her climb.  Her legs kicked and swung freely, twisting her torso to advantage as she reached for each next hoop.  Because of her level of fitness, this was not an arduous task.

Although she was not allowed to use her feet in her ascent, this swinging and twisting action, with her legs spread and moving opposite to the movement of her arms, helped her to move more efficiently.  The counterbalance seemed to help move her center of gravity for better launching of each arm.

She presented the men an admirable view of her moist cunt between her widespread swinging legs with each sideways swing.  Whenever she was being observed, she became a true show woman, and automatically flapped her vagina open and closed for the amusement and interest of the men, a trick her jockey/trainer had recently taught her.

Once her feet had disappeared through the 3-foot-wide hole in the ceiling she was instructed to come back down, and as soon as her feet found the tack room floor Derrick told her to go back up, this time more quickly.  She promptly repeated her ascent.  Lindy had thought climbing was the competition, but noticed nobody was timing her ascent. 

Her muscles bulged and strained, with her breath rate constantly increasing.  She was now using muscles not usually engaged in her regular daily exercise routines.  Lindy was always exhilarated by strenuous exercise and activity, and enjoyed the climb, one that had her breathing hard and expanding her lungs.

When she had returned to floor level she was once more required to go up, but this time to double her last pace.  As she grabbed the third rope a whip slashed a sharp stinging blow across her buttocks, speeding her movement.  She came back down at the same speed she had gone up, and she was now breathing harder and sweating profusely when she returned to the card table to stand on tip-toes beside her sponsor.

“Now that you’ve all opened your lungs to their full capacity,” the host said, “we are going to have you take part in a friendly little competition.”  He explained, “We have each selected our fittest specimen from our stables, and we want to see which of us has the girl with endurance and lungs most able to deal with the various issues associated with asphyxiation. 

“That is mostly a factor of lung capacity and endurance, with of course excellent fitness a must.  We have three cleverly designed competitions for you ladies, to determine which of you is most worthy.  After each competition one of you will drop out.  I mean that in the most specific sense.  There will be no further use for those who do not measure up.” 

‘What the hell did he mean by that?’ Lindy thought.

“We expect each of you to do your very best in determining which of us has the superior stable of horsewomen, or at least the best representative in attendance tonight.  Each event will be an elimination round.  We’ve determined we want to see who’s stock has the best lung capacity, and is best able to deal with suffocation. 

“The three events we’ve arranged for you to compete in will prove to be an outstanding workout for your lungs, and comparative measure of their capacity.  We have also provided you with excellent motivation, as permanent or total elimination is the only other option.

“As you should know, the competition won’t be over until three of you have been permanently eliminated.  Yes, that’s exactly right.  Each of the competitions will end with the death of one of you, working the number of competitors down to two in the final round.  Only one of you is going back to your own stable when we are done tonight.” 

The 4 women blanched.  This had suddenly turned deadly serious.  Three of them were about to die of asphyxiation, simply for the amusement and entertainment of their wealthy owners in their bizarre contests.  This was going to be the last night of life for three of them!

“Let’s check the entries,” another sponsor said, and with a chuckle the men stepped forward and began inspecting the fit bodies of the four naked competitors.  These carefully recruited gorgeous girls were top specimens, well trained, and as always, stood still up on tiptoes.

They quivered silently as their wealthy owners checked their firm muscles, fondled their smooth buttocks, fingered their warm moist vaginas and squeezed their full breasts.  They also took the opportunity to measure the moistness, warmth and grip of the four beautiful vaginas.

The ladies’ well-toned flesh was warm to the intimate touch they were experiencing, warmed and sweat-slicked by the high-energy exercise they had all performed in the last few moments, in a rigorous workout designed to open their air passages and lungs, which were about to be tested. 

The recent strenuous activity had also increased the flow of blood coursing through their bodies with their accelerated heartbeat, and that served to enrich their blood with additional oxygen, the elixir of life.  They were all at their peak in terms of readiness to compete, and all of them were equally sure they were going to be the final survivor.

As the men enjoyed the remarkable bodies of the women, three of whom they were about to kill with their unusual late-night sport, the butler took Lindy’s measurements, and fitted her with harness that would identify her as a true Equestricunt, taken from the wall. 

The harness with which she was fitted was nothing but erotic decoration, but it was consistent with what the other three were wearing, and it was exceptionally tight fitting, to enhance her awareness of the constricting costume consisting solely of leather straps.

A photographer and a videographer arrived and entered the tack room, ready to document the competitions for internet release on a few of the host’s private pay sites.  He had arranged for these, as he was a successful entrepreneur, and never let a chance to make money slip past.  This was going to be a night to remember.

He had obtained the snuff video sites from men who had found the stress of running highly illegal websites too hard to manage, and had obtained them for ¼ their real worth.  He had directly added to their stress by giving them grief by killing their sales when he leaked their content to the open internet file sharing sites.

Most of the product viewed on the three pay sites was produced in Central and South America or was from SE Asia, and production of the videos was both slick and professional, as the video crews had obtained their education in American film schools.  The taking of a woman’s life was worth the quality the technicians provided.

The images and videos produced tonight would be sold on three of his websites on the Undernet, where the dark side of human experience is documented and liberally shared.  Rough stuff fans, both men and women, would tune in, knowing girls would die in the show. 

Lindy realized men and women around the world would masturbate and perhaps fornicate as they watched three of the ladies present sacrifice their lives for their Masters’ fun asphyxiation games, and production of the obscene videos for international live streaming.  It was all very high tech.

“I’d say your entry has the best lungs,” the host said to Derrick, referring to Lindy’s remarkable breasts as he squeezed them, impressed at their firmness.  With his other hand he tugged on her large groin ring, which joined her vagina to her rectum.  They all laughed at his comment, and another man suggested they handicap the ladies. 

“I think our unique death-sports would be much more interesting if these lovely participants had their arms tightly bound behind their back,” he suggested.  “A bound woman struggling is always more interesting than one who has her lovely limbs free.”

“Let your wager speak to handicap!” Derrick said, confident his entry was superior to the other three ladies, all of whom were also in remarkable shape.  “Let’s sweeten the pot, Derrick said.  I’ll put $50,000. on my entry Lindy winning the first round.”  The others were in, and the four nude horsewomen were moved to the far wall, where four stout ropes with nooses on one end hung from a set of large ceiling-mounted pulleys.  It looked to the ladies like they were going to hang them!

The naked women’s eyes bulged in disbelief as the nooses were lifted over their heads, their uniform ponytails pulled through, and the rope was snuggled tightly around their necks, the knot tucked firmly against their chin, safely ahead of their corroded artery. 

If they could keep the knot away from the primary blood supply to the brain, the nude women would at least not die of their brain giving out from blood starvation.  When a hangman wished to spare a victim a painful death, he would ensure the knot on the noose was pressed against the artery that ran up the neck below the ear to ensure a prompt death.

The intent of their sponsors, or now more properly owners, they learned, was to see which of the girls died from depriving the brain of oxygen specifically through degrading the level of the critical-to-life gas in their bloodstream by asphyxiation, a much more painful demise than properly hanging. 

The 4 naked participants now had the complete picture.  They now fully grasped that this really was a death game they were to play!  They were truly competing for their very lives!  Three of them were about to die in the middle of the night because of a whim of their sponsors at this impromptu very late night private social event!

Lindy’s mind was running ahead, as usual, in an attempt to find a strategy that would see her winning.  This was unbroken ground.  She had never before experienced asphyxiation.  She had no idea what it would feel like, but was certain it would be extremely uncomfortable, if not painful.  Although she had, of necessity, accepted the kiss of the whip on her meat, she was definitely not into pain.



“I think we’re ready, gentlemen,” the host proclaimed, “take up the slack in your chosen lady’s rope and get it ready while I explain to them our expectation.  Ladies, remain up on tiptoe as high as you can.”  The four well-trained participants readily complied, although they were terribly frightened for their lives, and raised themselves another inch from their already elevated position on their bare feet. 

“You can only do well if you understand what we require of you.  When we pull you up with the ropes, you will be lifted off your toes, and will not be able to touch the floor.  It will be entertaining if you reach for the floor with your extended toes to try.  You will be held suspended in the air for 30 seconds, supported only by the rope around your neck, and you will be whipped to encourage you to kick your lovely legs and twist your gorgeous naked torsos. 

“We have worked out an escape clause for you.  If any of you is able to make one or more of us ejaculate while you are in the air, you will earn your way out of this competition, and automatically advance to the next.  Our penises will be out, but our hands will be otherwise occupied, handling the ropes with your nooses.

Getting us to spurt our essence should not be too difficult, as our purpose this evening is to enjoy the rush of excessive sexual stimulation.  Remember, we are prepared for this, and you have to stimulate us with your movement to the point we ejaculate while you are still suspended by your neck.

“After 30 seconds in the air you will be lowered to stand on tiptoe for just ten seconds.  This brief rest will provide you with some relief, but possibly not sufficient to fully regain your composure.  Your suspension in the air and your rest on the floor between lifts will be strictly timed.

“On the second lift, you will be suspended out of reach of the floor for 45 seconds, followed by another ten-second period of relief.  That second pause will most certainly be insufficient.  On each successive lift, you will have 15 seconds added to your time in the air, but the breaks will remain at 10 seconds. 

“On each lift we expect you to actively kick your legs to the best of your ability.  In that regard, a whip shall be applied to your breasts, buttocks and vagina, for which you have all been well conditioned, to encourage your full participation.  I’m certain you will be unable to resist furious movement.  The highly and aggressively active action of your legs is critical to the success of this event, and to stimulate our sexual response.

“When at last the first of you sags, hanging still, and urinates, the other two will be lowered.  The loser, who will no longer be one of us, shall be declared dead, and will have no further use for air.  She will be left hanging, swinging in her noose as an encouragement to the others of you to do better in the next round. 

“After a pause for refreshments, so that we can recharge our glasses with brandy and each of the survivors can catch her breath, we will proceed with the three survivors to commence the second competition, which shall provide another ingenious form of asphyxiation we have devised.  Do you all understand how this works?”

All four women visibly sagged; they knew this first session was going to be fatal for one of them, and very uncomfortable for them all.  ‘Holy shit,’ Lindy thought, ‘this whole situation is now totally out of hand.  Worst of all, there’s nothing I can do about it!  I’ll have to go through with it.

‘The risk of death was never part of the agreement, and right now it looks like three of us are going to be killed, regardless of what I can do.  All three of these other girls look like they’re capable of being the survivor!  I’ve just got to make it.  There’s no bloody way I’m ready to die!’

The whip rapidly found breasts, vaginas and buttocks, stimulating the nude ladies to emerge from the depressing thoughts that subdued them.  They sprung back up onto their toes, and the ropes tightened, making it impossible for their heels to lower to the floor.

“Are you ready, gentlemen?  All of our ladies are on full tiptoes.  Are all ropes snug?”  The men, their rigid penises pulled out and standing at full attention, smiling as they held the tight ropes retuning from the pulleys on the overhead beam, nodded.  They made a last minute check to see that the knots were not going to press on an artery.  They all nodded that they were ready.  “Then up, up and away!”

Lindy was thankful that Derrick Crane tightened the rope gently and raised her slowly, but then she noticed the others had done the same.  Each sponsor was attempting to give his own entry the advantage, but it appeared all elevations were equal.  She felt the rope tighten, causing a restriction on her air passage.  She kicked her legs vigorously, which caused further tightening of the noose from which she was suspended.

It seemed an eternity passed, and the whip only found her once, across the breasts, when she heard the butler declare 30 seconds had passed.  Her kicking has been sufficient to spare her a beating with the whip.  She felt a stinging in her lungs from lack of air, and she felt as if the veins on her forehead were about to burst.  ‘How will I survive 45 seconds,’ Lindy thought.

The 4 nudes were lowered to stand again on tiptoe, all of them gasping for air, and they could not believe how brief the 10 second pause was when once more they were lifted off the floor to dangle again by their slender necks, this time for a 45 second session of whip-inspired kicking and twisting. 

They all began kicking vigorously, thanks to the encouragement of the whip, this time applied liberally to their buttocks, and before 30 seconds of this session were completed, all 4 faces were turning red, one of the beauties quite a bit darker than the others.  She was clearly in deep distress, and not doing well.

When they were lowered at the end of 45 seconds, two of the naked young women stumbled, unable to stand, and both had to be raised by the ropes around their necks until at last they could support themselves on their toes.  Almost immediately the 10-second pause was done, and they were once more hauled into the air to swing from their noose.

The girl least able to remain awake responded more with brief spasms rather than with active kicking when the whip found her, and within seconds the faces of both she and the other girl who had stumbled at the brief brake had turned deep purple.  Lindy was glad she had been a basketball player, and that her neck muscles were well developed from looking up while leaning forward when she played.

At the 35 second point the weakest of the 4 hanging beauties became unresponsive to continued brutal lashes to her cunt, and she released the mandatory steaming amber liquid from her bladder as she expired.  The sponsors of the other three promptly lowered them, as they would require rest before their next asphyxiation competition.   

These men also had a stake in the events, as although their lives were not on the line, each had a great deal of money riding on the outcome, as well as the life of his valued horsegirl.  As captains of industry, they were all used to winning, and winning at all costs was in their nature.

The men resumed their seats at the sturdy velvet-covered card table, and as they finished their drinks, the butler brought forward the whiskey bottle to replenish their supply.  The 3 remaining nude women watched in shock the body of the 4th, still hanging by the rope and dead still.  Lindy noticed a steaming stool on the floor below her. 

The proof of the intent of these deadly asphyxiation games had the 3 ladies in a state of shock, and they were all breathing heavily, their ample breasts heaving, to replenish the level of oxygen, the elixir of life, in their blood stream.  They were all acutely aware that two more of them were going to die a hideous death in the horrific breathing competitions within the hour.

They were still gasping in air as they were moved onto the 3 side-by-side treadmills, and as their arms were untied, were instructed to grasp the handles at the front of each machine.  “These three treadmills are identical, and are synchronized to run at the same speed,” the host informed them, “with all 3 of them controlled with a single speed dial. 

“You will of course run up on your toes, and the speed of the tracks will be steadily increased, causing you all to run faster, which will quickly elevate both your breathing and your oxygen consumption.  This will quickly show us which of you is in the best and worst physical condition.

“Because you are all in magnificent shape, with outstanding physical conditioning, it could take hours for one of you to eventually fall.  We don’t want to spend all night and half the morning at this.  To speed things up a bit, we’re going to provide you with masks that cover both your nose and your mouth.”

The three girls gasped.  How were they going to breathe?

“To provide you with some air intake, we have arranged that there is a small hole in front of your mouth, and you can draw in air through it, although what you can get through the tiny opening will be insufficient for breathing comfort while standing still, and certainly will be far less air than you require during physical exertion.   Are you beginning to get the picture?” 

The picture was crystal clear.  Another of them was about to die, with the other two put at great risk.  “The loser will keep her mask when the other two are removed, and just to assist in her imminent demise, we’ll put a piece of tape over the hole in her mask to make her air deprivation complete.  At that point she will rejoin her hanging friend by the far wall suspended in her noose as another dangling bitch-on-a-rope.  Isn’t this an exciting challenge?”   

The girls in unison pissed themselves at the news.  They blushed in shame at the unexpected loss of continence, but they were freaked at the raw turn their servitude agreements had taken.  Fortunately they all had the lower body muscle control to turn off the involuntary spurting of their pee onto the treadmill belts. 

The dried urine stains on the rugged belts told them they were not the first to have soiled the heavy woven straps on which they were about to run.  They were shocked to think that other women may have died from asphyxiation to amuse these men who were now their owners. 

Thinking about it, Lindy realized this may not after all be such a shift in activity for them, with the new guidelines on the level of treatment and abuse of their private cunts.  Was this a general level of activity throughout the Most Secret Society, or was it an abnormal extension by four rogue members?

The new permissive guidelines for the Society might simply be formalization of what had already been occurring.  Lindy could imagine these wealthy gentlemen amusing themselves without risk of being discovered because of the total privacy they could enjoy on their private estates.  They could manage this total secrecy due to their enormous wealth.  All of it was at the cost of the young women they involved.

Their owners came forward carrying the masks.  The devices were wide latex bands that when placed over the head covered their lower ears, the top of the nose in a snug fit just below their eyes, and the bottom wrapped below their chins.  As advertised, there was a small hole in front of their mouths, too small to fit a drinking straw through.  The men held the front of the masks out to allow for momentary normal breathing. 

The tiny hole would be the only possible source of air.  The girls all breathed as much air as they could gulp in before the host said “Now!” and the men completed the placement of the masks in unison, no longer stretching them out in front, but allowing them to take their tight grasp of the women’s lower heads, sealing off all movement of air save for that which whistled through the small air holes in the thick latex.

Immediately the treadmills started to move, at first at a brisk walk.  After 30 seconds of striding on their toes, the belts accelerated, moving up to a trotting speed, which was maintained for a full minute.  The women were sucking hard on the tiny holes, and all of them quickly learned that by opening their jaws, they were able to slightly enlarge the hole in the rubber mask that gave them their precious air.

After 60 seconds of trotting, the belts on the treadmills once more picked up speed, forcing the girls to run.  They were provided the luxury of a manageable running speed for two minutes, but at this tempo it became quickly apparent they were not going to do well with so little air, and would be in serious trouble when the cadence was move up a notch to a more rapid run. 

Lindy soon felt a growing burning in her lungs, and she used her stomach muscles to cause her diaphragm to drop, drawing in what air was available.  She noticed the other girls were wasting energy by heaving their chests, which is a very inefficient way of pumping the lungs.  Regardless, there was far less air than they required to maintain the speed required of them to stay in the race.

Just as their muscles began to cramp from lack of oxygen in their blood at a time when much more was demanded, the speed once more increased, and with it, the need for even more air, when so little was available.  Lindy was sure her lungs were going to explode, when the girl running on the machine beside her stumbled, then fell to bounce off the rapidly moving belt onto the floor.  She had failed!

Promptly the belts slowed to a stop, and the owners removed the masks from the two remaining women.  The girl who had fallen was the property of their host.  He quickly stepped forward and placed the piece of tape over the hole in his girl’s mask, sealing the small hole in front of her mouth.  Clearly he had no personal feelings for her.  She was just a piece of property he had lost because she had failed him in a wager. 

The fallen ponygirl’s body bucked, heaved, twisted and then finally spasms ran from head to foot as her heart failed.  The butler dragged her over to the ropes, fit her noose around her neck, pulled her up and tied the rope off so that she swung naked beside the other looser. 

She too now made her final contribution to the piss on the floor, followed promptly by the escape of a long light brown log from between her buttocks as she slumped in death, swinging by the neck from the tight noose on her rope.  Lindy knew from the color of the offal that the girl had not been horsed, or at least did not have the accompanying diet.

Up until this late night event, Lindy had felt at least a little bit valued by Derrick Crane.  However, it became abundantly clear to her that her life was not valued more than the entertainment cost of betting on the consequence of the severe contests.  No matter what the final cost, the men had to keep themselves amused, and risk of loss was a thrill even to them. 

The winner would keep his winnings and his girl, while the other three would lose both.  For these men the risk was worth it simply for the bragging rights, for having the best stable.  And now, after what the two athletic Equestricunts had endured, they could think of no other way the men could possibly use to apply asphyxiation to them, the two surviving participants.

The two survivors still had something to learn.

To be continued . . . . .

Offline Regis
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Too soon these two remaining participants found out how this competition would work.  The men had drained their glasses, lighted cigars, and the butler again refreshed their whiskeys.  He gave both women a 1-quart bottle of apple-cranberry juice, and instructed them to drink it.  He said they had lost a lot of moisture in the two events they had endured, and would need much more for the last competition.  

He then left the tack room briefly, and returned carrying a leather briefcase.  Lindy managed to see on it a small brass plate attached to it with the word Uritubes beautifully engraved on it.  Urit?  What was that about?  She quickly learned she had broken the combined word in the wrong place.  Uri proved to be an abbreviation for their urine.

The two nude and harnessed women were seated back to back on the sturdy card table, their legs spread, and they were prepared for the next and final competition.  Lindy’s ornate catheter was removed, and from the case was brought a strange and nefarious looking device consisting in the most part of thin and clear plastic tubing.  

One end of the device proved to be a very complex catheter.  The head of it was clasped copper leaves that folded together to make a small ball suitable for inserting.  Attached to it was plastic tubing, and a wrapping of very thin insulated wires.  10 inches along the tube made a Y, with two tubes attached to the Y extending for more than 3 feet each.  

The wires separated at the Y, and were attached to what appeared to be a stout pump for inflating bicycle tires, but which proved instead to be a hand-operated electric generator.  The copper end of the device was inserted into her urethra, and with the help of some lubricant, pushed up into her bladder.  

When it was properly seated, one of the wires was pulled, the copper clasp inside her opened, and the two halves spread and pressed against the walls of her bladder.  These were in fact a pair of electrodes!  She was now wired for action, and had no idea how intense this action would quickly become.

Two stools were placed in an open space facing each other, and the two horsewomen were seated on them. Their ankles were cuffed to the other woman’s ankles.  This was to ensure they remained in close proximity.  Now one of the men, who proved to be a doctor, took the plastic tubes from the Y at the other girl’s groin and holding Lindy’s head back, forced each of the tubes into her nostrils, and on down into her throat.

Now he took a long bent clamp and a thicker plastic tube with a light on the end from the Uritubes case.  He pushed the tube and the clamp into Lindy’s mouth and down her throat.  She could hardly breathe, but realized that was the whole point to the exercise.  The thick tube with the light on one end proved to be a scope, and by looking into it he could see what he was doing down her throat.

He used the clamp to grasp one of the thin tubes from her nose, and worked it into her bronchial tube, pushing the end down into her right lung.   When that was completed he repeated the process with the other thin tube, pushing it into her left lung.  Satisfied, he shifted position and performed the same operation on the other horsegirl, using the pair of thin tubes emerging from Lindy’s cunt.  

He put a pump-like generator on the floor beside each woman, and had each take the handle of the one with its wires leading to her own cunt.  The curious devices resembled what she remembered of bicycle tire pumps.  Lindy was baffled when she tried to guess how this intricate joining of each other by tubing from their bladders to the other’s lungs was to produce asphyxiation.  

Her mind followed the process of rigging them, and with a start she realized what was about to happen.  They were somehow each to drive their own urine into the lungs of her opponent!  She was certain the copper bud in her bladder had more than a little to do with it.

When she was a teen, a group of school chums arranged a “pissed to death” drinking contest, in which they all had to drink full glasses of rum, one after the other, until one of them collapsed and was unable to get up.  Her collapse was to be the conclusion of the competition with the exaggerated naming.  

The grade 11 girls invited a grade 8 girl to join them, who was nearly a foot shorter and 30 pounds lighter, and by her selection they produced for the contest a guaranteed loser. The younger and smaller girl would certainly not be able to handle the rum at the rate they could.  Her body couldn’t metabolize it before it became a lethal poison in her system.  

Their high school science teacher had taught them about that, in an effort to produce a loathing for alcohol in his young and highly impressionable students.  He had no idea how wrong he could be.  Once the girls at the bar had got two full glasses of rum into the petite but game grade 8 girl, they knew that within 20 minutes it should take less than a full glass of the strong alcohol to knock the pretty little bitch out cold.  

Of the eight grade 11 participants, five of the 16-year-olds were hospitalized with alcohol poisoning, and far worse than they expected, the smaller 13-year-old girl died at the bar.  The high level of alcohol had likely fried the kid’s liver.  Lindy had always felt a twinge of guilt, as she had been the one who had volunteered to recruit that stupid grade 8 girl.

To make herself feel better about it, she rationalized that at that age, girls did lots of goofy things, and some of those could prove to be lethal things. These men had devised a whole new “pissed to death” game, with a whole new approach to a competition that would also produce a death, this time guaranteed.  

“Ladies,” the host began, “your lungs are designed to deal with air and to extract the oxygen from it, putting it directly into your blood stream to feed the cells throughout your body, particularly your brain.  Your lungs can also take in moisture, but unlike air, cannot easily deal with liquid.  By giving your own bladder an electric shock, you are going to deposit your caustic, acidic urine into your opponent’s lungs, reducing by volume her ability to take in air.  Won’t that be fun?
Only one of you need be concerned that we did not wash the equipment after it’s last use, which was just a few weeks ago.  A dozen women have participated in this discrete diversion for two, in six pair, and four of them survived the experience.  Any harm from germs carried forward will not have time to in any way affect the one of you who is unable to deal with the lungs full of piss you will receive.  

The immediate concern of the winner will be the effective removal of the lady-piss filling her lungs.  We will do our part by hanging you up by your heels, head down, to assist you in purging your lungs of the amber liquid provided by your opponent.  The rest will be up to you.  Do either of you have any questions?”

There was no response.  Both women were dumbfounded, numbed at the thought of what they were about to do. “Then let us proceed.  Unfortunately there is no opportunity for rehearsal, but you’ll quickly get the hang of it. The others always have.  Your objective is to flood her with more piss than she floods you.

All you have to do is repeatedly plunge the handle of the generator, and the electric stimulation to your bladder walls with force you to pee into the tubing.  The rest is automatic.  The harder you pump, the more urine you will transfer.  It’s as simple as that.  Of course you can only pass piss at the rate you produce it.  That’s what the apple juice was for.

Both women were pumping the handles, and were squealing at the sharp discomfort of the electricity causing their bladders to spasm, forcing urine into the transparent tubes, where it’s progress was readily apparent.  In seconds the amber liquid reached the nose of the other, and at the very least trickled and sometimes spurted directly into her lungs.

Both women coughed, but the urine that tickled their lungs was quickly moving to the bottom, gravity driven, and was not yet accessible to coughs.  It stung, and gradually began to feel heavy.  Their well-developed lungs were made, as their host had pointed out, for air, not woman-piss.  

Derrick Crane and his companions loved the intimacy of this bizarre contest, with each woman providing her own body’s excess fluid to bring to her opponent discomfort, anxiety, distress, pain and eventually death.  “Taking another woman’s pee into your mouth,” he said, “savoring and swallowing another woman’s fresh warm urine, taking it into your stomach to blend with your nutrition, is as you know a very intimate act.  

“Going further by forcing your pee directly into her lungs,” he continued, “and willingly giving your own bladder sharp and painful electrical shocks to achieve this transfer in your own desperation to win, is even more intimate.  Don’t you love being a direct participant in such sexual intimacy?  

“This amusing game is particularly intimate in that by linking with her like this you craft the death of the other woman, simply to entertain us, while by the same act risking your own life as she attempts to take it.  What we have designed is a pure and poetic, not complex, nude lady competition.”

The two naked participants were oblivious to his comments, and most likely would have disagreed with him, but that was moot, because they were both struggling to insert more urine from their own bladders than they were taking from the other woman’s supply.  Their kidneys were busy, and the apple juice was doing what apple juice does in women, giving up it’s nutrients to feed their active bodies, and the water carries unneeded matter down into their bladders to be expelled from their systems.  

Lindy pumped her generator as hard as she could, experiencing brutal bladder shocks with each stroke to force more of her urine out into the other horsewoman’s lungs.  Her opponent was doing the same, and she was in a sweat as she felt the effect of the bitch’s piss running into her lungs.  She couldn’t believe how hard and how painful this was.  

Her lower body shot spasms as each shock to her bladder hit, and she was finding it more and more difficult to breathe as fresh warm piss spurted into her lungs from her opponent’s bladder, gradually filling them.  She felt a sudden sense of panic with the realization she could not breathe with her lungs filled with the other girl’s warm piss.  This was monstrous!

She knew the end was near for one of them, and she was desperate to kill the other woman before she herself was killed.  It took all of her focus to continue to press the handle on the generator with her quickly increasing difficulty in breathing.  She could see the men sitting back in their comfortable chairs, smoking their cigars and sipping whisky as the visible lady-pee was forced up the tubing that went into the noses of the competitors.  

One of the men had opened his fly and was stroking his raging erection, which was dribbling pre-cum smegma as he watched the desperate struggle of the gorgeous naked women.  Within minutes all four of the men were openly masturbating at the erotic sight of a pair of gorgeous nudes frantically attempting to kill each other.  

Just for fun, Derrick Crane took up a whip and began to use it on Lindy’s bare back to encourage her to try harder.  He had placed an incredible $100,000 bet on her success.  The owner of the other woman matched him stroke for stroke on his Mare, and the nude ladies redoubled their efforts to be the first to drown her opponent.

Putting down his whip, Derrick stood and said to the other man “I think it’s time to add to their supply of liquid.  I wonder how long it will take them to filter our piss through their kidneys, and then put it to work with their prime agenda?”  He grasped Lindy’s hair, and pulled her mouth down onto his erection.  Her mouth knew the impressive organ well, but she had only swallowed his semen, never the production of his kidneys.  

The other man did the same to his horsewoman, and they emptied their bladders directly into the stomachs of their oxygen-deprived ladies.  The heads of the men’s penises were into their throats well past the ladies’ tongues, which spared them the inconvenience of having to suffer the caustic taste of the men’s ample production of piss.  With their lungs screaming for air, they would probably never have noticed the taste in their mouths.

When they had emptied their bladders into the women’s stomachs and withdrew their erect organs, the other two men moved in, both of them highly sexually stimulated by the degenerately obscene action, and ejaculated onto the ladies’ faces.  Both highly distressed women knew to keep their eyes wide open, so that their eyeballs were covered with a generous coating of the men’s warm sperm.  Now all 4 men had relieved themselves, one way or the other.

The cum in her eyes blurred her vision, but Lindy, feeling ready to collapse, her lungs filled with the other girl’s pee, barely notice the other girl fall onto her face, no longer having the strength to remain upright.  Lindy immediately felt hands grasp her ankles, and they were jerked upward, pulling her upside down so that she hung with her head above the floor.  

Heavy straps were bound around her ankles, and she hung swinging upside down, which allowed her to cough at long last, and expel some of the urine filling her lungs.  Derrick Crane stood behind her, wrapped his arms around her chest, and applied the Heimlich maneuver.  That triggered a massive spray of urine from her mouth.  His unexpected assistance probably saved her life.

Drawing in air was extremely painful, but allowed her to cough repeatedly, and he continued the abrupt squeezing of her chest.  Derrick had as much at stake as had Lindy.  She was his horsewoman, and although he had knowing and willingly risked her life, he could make a lot of money from her performance in Dressage and Equestricunt races, but not if she died.

Lungs resemble a sponge, not a bladder, and it was important both he and she continue to expel as much of the acrid liquid she had taken in from the unsuccessful woman’s bladder.  Derrick continued to squeeze her chest in his powerful arms.  As the piss trickled out of her lungs, more came up from her stomach, mixing in her throat and mouth both Derrick’s urine and that of the other girl.  As air gained ground in her lungs, they once again became functional, giving her back some energy and color.  

Blinking, she restored some of her vision in her cum-slicked eyes, and after the competing women’s plastic tubes were removed from her lungs and her bladder, Lindy saw her piss-drowning opponent, also relieved of the insertions, being hauled over to the wall where her noose was placed over her head.  

One of the other two dead Equestricunts hanging there was still twitching and quivering, with a trickle of her piss dripping to the floor from the tip of her toe, trickling down her leg from her distended cunt.  These guys played for fucking keeps!  Three beautiful and fit young women had been sacrificed for their brief evening of indulgence.  

The girl she had just defeated was near death, and she had received no relief from the considerable volume of Lindy’s pee flooding her lungs.  It remained there, filling them, and she was rapidly and painfully drowning in Lindy’s piss.  Both her brain and muscles were being deprived of life-giving oxygen.  The defeated girl had at most several seconds to live.

The rope was tightened and she was hauled up by her slender neck, to join the other two bitches, to swing as lifeless as they were.  Her body was twitching, her legs attempting to kick, and her limbs quivering in her final seconds of what could only be considered as a minimal quality of life.  She swung like a side of beef.  Lindy felt herself starting to cum.  Surviving this outrageous death sport gave her an orgasm.

At last the tiny sphincter on her urethra fully relaxed, and she expelled a final spray of what urine remained in her electrode-punished bladder.  The third horsewoman of the group was now officially a kill, another sensuous, erotic carcass, and was officially reduced to nothing but dead meat.  Somehow the wealthy men found this to be exciting, stimulating and fulfilling.

At last Lindy was let down from her uncomfortable inverted position, still coughing piss from her lungs.  The four men were sitting around the card table, enjoying the memory of the event now completed as they sipped their whisky and admired the three hanging naked cunt-carcasses.  The butler took Lindy out of the tack room, through the barn and out to the Limo.  

There were large towels on the back seat, and she needed them, as she was still bringing up warm piss from her lungs.  She had somehow survived the horrific treatment by her Lord and Master, and now understood that contrary to her earlier belief, Derrick Crane bore no warm feelings for her. She was his property, and a piece of meat he was willing to gamble away. He owned many amazing things, and she proved to be a very minor one.

A new realization struck her.  There was to be no immunity for her from what she was learning were the enormous risks for horsewomen lured in to serve the perverted, demented individuals who made up the Most Secret Society.  Life here was going to be filled with incredible risks and danger, for the entertainment of the members.  Any one of these dangers could consume her.  In seconds she could become toast.

Derrick Crane’s gentlemanly behavior toward her was a sham.  He was no better than any of the others of them.  They were all total despots, degenerates, gaining enjoyment from the pain, suffering and humiliation of women.  Their every wish, no matter how bizarre and outrageous, was her command.  This whole perverse adventure was proving to be for her absolutely, extremely and unequivocally exciting!

Lindy was their plaything, totally dependent on her Lord and Master, serving as his sophisticated play-toy, permitted to live only at his and his friends’ pleasure.  She knew for certain after this experience that she was trapped, and would likely never see a city street or civilization again in her short life. And yet she clung to hope.


Lindy quickly discovered the hard way that her agreement with her sponsor was not at all unscathed by the merger of Secret Societies, as had been suggested.  Without any discussion or approval by Lindy, Derrick Crane had her lie on her side on a table in a small theater she had never before seen.  The seats were not all empty.

About a dozen Society members had gathered, and had watched with interest the special groin piercing he wished her to have, without her consent.  Her life was now one of being a display object, and the notion of privacy was entirely stripped from her.  She lived for their amusement.

A heavy leather strap attached to the wooden workbench secured her upper thigh to the bench, and the other leg was stretched high by an ankle cuff and chained to a ceiling-mounted winch that held the leg severely elevated.  This binding held her groin fully exposed from all angles, permitting the painful heavy piercing without anesthetic she was about to undergo.

Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, forcing her breasts to bulge forward, and her collar was chained to the table as well, ensuring her head would be held motionless throughout the procedure.  She had no idea what was to happen, but she knew for certain she would feel everything, and likely scream, because no anesthetic was ever be applied during piercings.  

Lindy had no idea that a woman could endure such incredible pain, or that others could inflict that kind of punishment upon the person of another, particularly without cause.  It was monstrous, as was the steel ring permanently sealed joining her colon to her vagina.  She would no longer be able to engage in either anal or vaginal intercourse.

The New York surgeon had been brought down to Atlanta to work on a number of Pony Girls, and because it was for a show, he hired a pair of new 14-year-old junior high school graduate female assistants dressed in skimpy nurse uniforms and heels.  He trained them in handling the implements he would use, and otherwise worked on his own.  

These gorgeous early teen girls he brought with him were simply erotic visual embellishments.  They had attended a specialized private school.  This one was unique, in that it assured parents their girls would quickly acquire poise and grace of movement, through daily one-hour classes.

Unknown to the parents was that educating their lovely charges was of little interest to the faculty, who instead concentrated on training the girls to resemble strippers and high-class call girls as much as ladies.  They quickly became competent at both, but in every other respect were silly little waifs who giggled and posed their way through every situation.

After the hour of modeling and poise class, the faculty spent considerable time, the remainder of each day and evening, in training designed to make the girls ready and eager to please future employers who were as interested in their sexual attraction as in their resembling cultured ladies. 

The Principal himself took on the responsibility to conduct nightly training in the skills of coitus, making each girl a top-level sexual delight.  These carefully selected little girls were being prepared to entertain wealthy businessmen in up-scale strip clubs and in the privacy of their hotel rooms.

Derrick Crane had shocked Lindy when he explained that the merger now enabled sponsors to strike out all restrictive permission clauses from the agreements, if they in any way blocked refinements he wished to see.  He had taken the liberty to have already done this with all of his Equestricunt agreements.  

His collection of indentured ladies no longer had the right of refusal when any physical alteration was proposed.  All the changes to their bodies were to be done solely at their sponsor’s discretion from now on, without the subject girl’s advance knowledge or input.  

She was highly distressed by this news, and knew enough to keep silent on the subject.  Expressing herself and her opinion on her treatment would have no positive effect on how things would go for her.  Derrick Crane now held all the cards.  At least he assured her that currently the huge payout at the end of a year was still valid.

He also assured her that contractual arrangement with her was now entirely at his discretion, depending upon his feeling at the expiry of her first year.  In passing he also mentioned he would be making a few minor alterations to her physical being that would not likely be reversible.  

Lindy’s sponsor had chosen to remove the installed heavy vulva rings that most of the women in his stable now wore, and he would fit all of his female stock with the heavier rectal-vaginal rings, which would by necessity be a permanent fitting, and preclude any opportunity for the ladies to engage in the sex act using either portal.  

This enhancement to their groin would last forever.  It could not be removed.  He was a gentleman, and as a bonus gave each of them a final power fuck in both openings, just a few days before their alteration.  This was a sexual encounter they would have to remember for life, as it was the last fuck they would ever experience.

To keep his mares sexually satisfied as they went forward, he had each fitted with a new device that would also, of necessity, be permanent.  In the buttock hollow on the left side the anus, the surgeon had drilled a little hole, and had carefully inserted a slender flexible shaft, that encased a small steel rod that would slide easily within the casing.  

He had then pushed the device painfully forward, moving it through her inner groin beside her vagina, thrusting it through her meat beside her cunt until it finally entered the tender meat beneath her clitoris.  This device was to drive an electric vibrator, designed to steadily stimulate her clitoris.

He had then made a small incision below the clitoral hood, which gave him access to the end of the wire.  He clamped a brass sheath under the flesh that encircled her clitoris, like a tiny metal collar, and fixed the end of the steel rod that was encased in the newly placed shaft.

The new device was now in place, from beside her rectum to her clitoris.  Because both of his lovely assistants were violently vomiting into a pail (neither had witnessed an operation on a living person before), he then neatly stitched closed the incision without their assistance.  

The rechargeable battery and switch to run the implanted clitoris ring were set inside her vagina, slid into a pocket he cut in the wall of her fuck shaft.  A rigid raging penis would never again occupy this special space, making it available for her rechargeable little power supply.  

A finger slid below the clitoris triggered the switch, causing a slow vibration on the clip around her clit, masturbating her with varied speed, but building to a frequency that ensured the wearer’s clitoris would become so stimulated she would experience a massive orgasm.  

All the fitted woman had to do was finger the switch.  Her pleasure would begin immediately, and grow as she left it on.  If she did not switch the device off after an orgasm, it would recycle to the slow speed, and produce for her an ongoing series of mind-bending orgasms until the battery ran out.  

If the ladies were unoccupied in the evening, they would lie in their stall, switch on and enjoy an evening of sexual euphoria, leaving the simple device on to provide hours of hot sex until the battery ran out of power.  Then they would plug it in to recharge while they slept, and disconnect the wire from the fully charged battery to get on with their day.

From this point forward Lindy and the other Mares in Derrick Crane’s stable were no longer able to sit in a chair unless it had an opening in the seat, and could rest only by lying on their side or tummy.  They had fasted for 2 days before the extremely painful installation of their anal-vaginal rings, and had cleansing enemas in both their colons and vaginas before the procedure.  

It would be unthinkable for them to have a bowel movement, depositing crap on the operating bench during the procedure, which would be an affront to the esteemed surgeon implanting the large steel ring.  Now they were laid on their sides on the floor to recover.  

Derrick Crane was sufficiently pleased with the two assistants the surgeon had brought with him that he bought them from their employer upon their arrival at his estate.  He had no New York girls in his stable, and found these two specimens quite suitable to his needs.  

Immediately the surgeon had completed his work on the set of Mares, he had the giggling teens who were his useless young assistants disrobe, had them bound and stretched on the workbench, and as quickly as that they were no longer giggling.  This whole thing was suddenly getting serious for them.

After ringing the groin of each of the hysterically screaming nudes in the same fashion as had been done to the others, Derrick Crane requested he also perform a radical surgery and remove their arms, right from the shoulder.  The surgeon grinned, and began the transformation immediately.

He skillfully removed all 4 slender arms, which left a hollow where the armpit had been.  He neatly stitched the armpit wounds closed.  Because these girls had joined him under the new regime, they had no signed agreement with him.  Derrick Crane had promptly arranged for full ownership both of their bodies and souls.  

With the Society’s rules radically changed, he thought it would be amusing to have the pair pull a cart by a single shaft through their firm ample breasts, joining them as one, and which would make their arms fully redundant.  He was willfully improving upon and extending the nature of the work the Chairman of the Board, Mrs. Lillian Richardson.  This would improve his status as a relative newcomer, allowing him to advance his position in the Society, with his eye on the Board’s Chair.

These teens, when properly trained and conditioned, would act as a lovely novelty at the next event, and he was certain several of the other sponsors would soon emulate his creative adaptation of the human body for cart work.  Pretty nudes, prancing high and flashing their delicious vaginas made an enviable sight, and he knew removal of their arms would make a delightfully irresistible oddity of the beautiful teens.

A week-long temporary job in which their only task was to appear sexy in micro-nurse costumes and spike heels had abruptly turned into a total change in the lives of these gorgeous if somewhat silly young women.  The aspirations they had for their lives were dead.  In a most secret society of this stature they were very classy young cunts, but in the end they were still simply a pair of now armless cunts.

Lindy stared at the physically altered girls as they were removed from their bindings and laid on the floor.  Her head was spinning with how rapidly things were changing, and most definitely changing for the worse.  What she had agreed to when she signed on was now clearly hugely revised, going far beyond whipping, and was now not at all within the bizarre scope of the agreement she had so willingly signed.  

This episode in her life was an entirely new ball game, and from this point forward her entire focus would have to be on survival.  Shit happens, she thought, and these new circumstances were certainly shitty.  With her mind in that zone, she had no idea how she was going to be able to shit with this humongous steel ring permanently placed in her asshole.

To be continued . . . . .
« Last Edit: August 22, 2017, 09:41:22 AM by Regis »