Lisa Learnt to Sleep standing Up
© 2006 - Rubberwolf - Used by permission
|storycodes: Mff/f; bond; pony; leather; blkml; nc; X|
How Lisa Learnt to Sleep Standing Up by Rubberwolf
Mff/f; bond; pony; leather; blkml; nc; X
At twelve years old Jenny looked very cute as she sat astride her dappled horse Bingo. She had been riding, or at least sitting on a horse while it was led in walk and trot around the arena, since she was two.
At fifteen hands two, Bingo was quite tall for a young girls mount. She also had a mean streak a mile wide. Jenny did not, however, know this. She had only owned the horse for two weeks. The only times that she had been on her before, the previous owner had always ridden her for an hour before Jenny arrived and so the horse was a lot more tired than the beast that she now found herself on.
Bingo was not behaving. Although content to walk around the ring and do simple manoeuvres, it was obvious that she did not want to be away from her nice warm stables. The other problem that Jenny was having was that Bingo had been very well schooled and Jenny was not asking the mare in the exact manner that she had come to expect from her proficient previous owner. Bingo, while not being openly naughty, was performing the human equivalent of working to rule. She would only do what she was asked and only when asked in the right manner. Jenny was outclassed and unfortunately Bingo knew it.
Jenny was a proficient rider. But then Bingo was a thoroughbred, hormonal female. The H brand on her rear left flank testified to the quality of her German breed. The twenty three thousand pound price tag testified to the level of training and fitness of this twelve year old.
Bingo was not the only horse that Jenny owned. Jenny was fortunate that her parents owned a reasonably large farm and had an equestrian interest. As well as the Hanoverian she now sat on, there was also a twelve hand one chestnut gelding called Barney, who she had ridden for two years and a midget pony called Broderick who was her favourite. While Bingo had been purchased to help Jenny up her game in the dressage arena, Broderick was trained to pull a small cart. When she was not practicing in the arena, Jenny could be found driving around the country roads and bridal paths in her small cart and the two were regular features at the local horse shows.
“Why don’t we see how she behaves on the lunge for half an hour?” her mother called from the corner of the arena.”
“Sounds good to me. It should calm her down a little and hopefully tire her out enough to do something with,” Jenny responded as her mother walked towards her carrying a lung reign.
“Kelly, why don’t I video this and we can have a look later, perhaps see if the problem is anything that Jenny is doing, or if Bingo is just being stubborn?” her father shouted from outside the arena.
“O.K. That would be good,” her mother called before continuing towards Jenny.
Bingo was not having a good day. She could not understand what the stupid human on top of her wanted. Was she being asked, rather roughly, to slow down, or was she being asked for something else? Was the humans balance not as good, or was the occasional pull on the reign a request to turn? Bingo did not know but she was irritated and now something else was coming towards her. It had front facing eyes, which meant that this was a predator. It was also walking directly towards her, square on. A million years of evolution screamed at Bingo that it was not happy about this thing coming towards her with a long red thing in its had.
Jenny was not happy. She had asked for halt by squeezing her legs around the mares chest and sitting “Lumpy” in the saddle while tensing the stomach. All of the right things to slow the horse, including pulling gently on the reigns. Nothing. Swearing she tried to turn her horse towards the side, presenting a nice big obstacle for the horse to consider, but Bingo was having none of it and so Jenny did the thing that had worked on every horse she had ridden. She pulled the reigns hard to the left, gave the animal a hefty boot in the ribs and brought her riding crop down hard on the flank.
Robert Bullman shed silent tears as he watched the scene unfolding before him. He had watched this a thousand times and the result was always the same. Frozen in fascinated horror, Bob watched the riding crop descend, almost in slow motion, watched as the horse bucked and his daughter tried to pull the head back as Bingo put all of her energy into a series of rodeo bucks that would see his daughter in a coma for six weeks, recovering from a head injury that would leave her forever with the mental age of a twelve year old and his wife crushed to death between the horses one tone weight and the arena side fence. The video image recorded all of this as Bob had continued filming, too shocked to do anything else, until his stunned brain had caught up with events and the camera had been discarded as the desperate father and husband rushed to salvage his family.
Bob leant forward and turned the video off. It had been ten years to the day since the accident and it still hurt. But life goes on and he still had two daughters and a son to provide for. Medical bills had, initially forced him to sell off portions of his land while, as his daughters health had required time away from the farm, he had been forced to rent off land to tenant farmers and invest the money in the city stock markets. Although this had initially meant that he could spend more time with his daughter, it was now forcing him to spend time away from the farm as his investments had grown and he now owned several companies. He had become the thing that he had once despised. A gentleman farmer. However, it still allowed him to spend quality time with his family, even if he was called away on the occasional business trip.
Lisa Holden had been baby-sitting at the Bullman farm for around six months. Every other weekend, Mr Bullman would have to go to the city and so Lisa would have to baby-sit. This suited her down to the ground. Before going to university she had spent three years working in child care and had an NVQ level II, as well as a few health and safety certificates, to state that she was competent to look after children, although she would not call the Bullmans babies. Lucy was the youngest at fourteen, closely followed by Richard who was sixteen. The oldest was, in fact the same age as Lisa. However, she had the mind of a child, following an accident of some sort. While her father would not need a babysitter for much longer in looking after the younger children, the oldest child would always need adult supervision.
At the moment Mr Bullman was in the city and the children were playing horsy with Jenny. They had clubbed their pocket money together to buy a daddy saddle which Richard had strapped around his waist while Jenny squealed with laughter as she rode around the living room. It was obvious that Jenny enjoyed horse riding and her two sibling tried to ensure that she could continue to ride. It was something of a puzzle to Lisa. There were stables attached to the farm. She had been inside and found a tack room, complete with old bridles and saddles. Although the tack room was proof against the elements, it was obvious from the state of the leather that they had not been cared for, in Lisas’ opinion, for some time. Given Jennys’ obvious interest, Lisa could not help but wonder why her doting father would not buy her a horse. When Lisa asked the children about this they were evasive and Lisa concluded that this was a sore topic and so left the mystery alone.
Lisa was bought out of her musings by a cry from Richard, who toppled over with a cry of pain.
“Are you all right?” Lisa asked as the boy lay on his side clutching the back of his leg.
“Yes,” he replied through gritted teeth, “It’s just a cramp.”
Turning to Jenny he apologised for dropping her on her rear. Standing up he tried to flex his leg, but it was quite a sever spasm and he had to limp around the room in order to relax the muscle.
“Sorry Jenny, but that will have to do for the night. I think that if this horse gives you any more rides he will end up in the glue factory,” he said with an apologetic smile.
Jenny did not take this well. She had been looking forward to her riding session and the fact that the horse could not be ridden did not enter into her plans. Lisa had seen this behaviour before. Unless she diverted Jenny, she would wind herself up into a scene that would match any two year old toddlers.
“But you promised Richard. You said that we would play horsy this when Dad was away,” the young girl shouted as she folded her arms and stomped her foot down in protest.
“I can’t just now Jenny. I have a bad cramp. I will see how I feel in half an hour or so,” Richard pleaded as he began to un strap the parent saddle, that was originally designed for a four to eight year old child, but that had been slightly widened by Richard who had learnt to work leather a few years ago and now made a nice amount of summer pocket money by selling book marks, belts and other small items to the tourists who came to the area.
This was, of course, unacceptable. She was just about to draw breath and tell Richard how unacceptable, when Lisa intervened.
“I will do it. I don’t mind being horsy for a while,” Lisa offered.
Lisa felt slightly uncomfortable as the girls gaze switched from her brothers to the proffered gift horse, or at least that is how she felt as Jenny appraised her potential mount.
Lisa felt that she would make a good horse, given her size and stature. She was naturally long limbed; standing five foot eleven tall she was definitely tall, although Lisa would have called herself lanky. However, Lisa was comfortable within herself. It was not, after all, every girl her age who still kept her hair long, platting it in several styles including pig tails. But then she felt that her long, dark hair suited her tall body shape and self image perfectly. Overall, she felt that she looked trim and that her body shape actually suited her 36D breasts. A fine mount indeed.
This was also Jennys’ conclusion and five minutes later Richard had fitted the daddy saddle around Lisas’ waist, over her T shirt.
“Thank god,” Lisa thought, “that she had worn jeans.” There was no way that she could crawl around on her hands and knees in a long skirt, or feel comfortable in a skirt short enough to allow her movement.
“Sorry, but Jenny likes to use reigns. I have been using this,” Richard said holding up a length of red chord, tied into a loop. “You just put it into your mouth and bite down. That way Jenny can pull on the reigns and she gets to keep contact as well as control the head.”
Lisa had no idea what Richard was on about, but had figured out that Richard wanted her to place the rope into her mouth and bite down in order to keep it there. A few moments later, after a little bit of discussion, Jenny sat onto her new horse, gripping Lisas’ flanks as best she could and holding the reigns.
Lisa felt the other girl squeeze with both of her legs and thrust her hips forward as she flipped the reigns, making a clicking sound with her tongue. Lisa was not sure what most of this meant, but she had seen enough films to know what twitching the reigns and making a noise meant and so she started to walk forward, as the other girl had directed, encouraged by Lucys calls and the look of obvious relief on Richards face, now that someone else had taken on some of the burden.
Lisa spent the next half an hour being directed around the downstairs of the farm house, until her knees and back could not take any more and Richard was ready to play horsy again. She must have done something right, since although she tolerated her brothers efforts, it was obvious who she wanted to ride.
This carried on for some months throughout the winter and into spring. Over that time Lisa would spend a good portion of her evening being ridden by the other girl. Richard put his leather working skills to good use, making knee and hand pads so that they could both be comfortable when playing horse. Richard even made a harness, Lisa suspected from some of the old horse tack in the old stable. Fortunately these did not sport a metal bit, but used a wooden rod encased in leather instead. The harness fit snugly around the head, with straps running around the head and under the jaw, as well as a strap that encircled the forehead, another strap ran and around the back of the head, attaching each end of the bit. All of these straps were adjusted and tightened by buckles. The old rope had now been replaced by a set of leather reigns, which looked like they had once been used for a horse, but had been shortened, probably by Richard. He had even fitted stirrups to the daddy saddle. Lisa felt slightly humiliated in this get up, but had to admit that it was more comfortable than trying to keep her jaw clenched for long periods of time and the saddle was now a lot easier on her back.
As well as Jenny, Lucy would also ride on whoever was saddled. This, more and more became Lisa. However, this paid dividends as Lisa became a part of the family, at least on weekends and the children took her into their confidence and she learnt why the stables were deserted. Apparently after the accident, which Lisa now knew, their father had asked a vet to put the animals down and had sworn that his children would never ride again. This explained why, she now knew, their father had never brought a horse for his daughter, who he doted on in every other way. It also explained why the children had, on the first night with the daddy saddle, asked Lisa not to tell their father about the riding sessions.
Spring arrived and with it came Jennys’ birthday. This had fallen on a day that Robert would have been away for the weekend. However, he had re-arranged his business trip for the following week so that he could spend his daughters birthday with his family. It was for this reason that the children did not show their unofficial present to Jenny until the following weekend.
Lucy asked Jenny to come outside where Richard had something to show her. Intrigued, Lisa followed to find Richard standing between the shafts of a two wheeled horse carriage. She recognised it as the one she had seen in the back of the barn next to the stable block. However, the last time she had seen it, the body had been a mass of peeling paint and rust. The carriage now sported new paint and polished metal. It looked quite splendid in yellow and black. Unlike other horse carriages she had seen, this had obviously been designed for a small horse and so looked quite light in comparison to others that she had seen at the recent spring fair. This carriage, she concluded, was made for a very small horse.
Richard, she noticed, wore a thick leather belt with chains on either side that attached to the shafts, which he also held in his hands. Somehow this arrangement was still slightly taller than the arrangement for the obviously tiny horse that would pull the cart, as the height of the shafts caused the carriage to lean back slightly.
All of this was beside the point as Jenny squealed with delight and ran to the carriage and took up the long reigns which were attached to Richards bridle. A quick flick of the reigns as she made a clicking noise was enough to get Richard to walk and then increase his speed. Despite the bizarre site, Lisa could appreciate that he actually looked good pulling this strange rickshaw and she imagined his bare chest sweating as his young muscles worked to propel the car forward.
Lisa came pulled away from those thoughts quite quickly. Richard may be relatively handsome and quite muscular, but he was still eight years her junior and one thing Lisa did not do was fantasise about boys that young.
Jenny, while initially pleased, had decided that horses do not walk on two legs and so Lisa had fetched the hand pads from the tack room as Richard went down on all fours. Although this made progress slower, Jenny was obviously happier that her horse was in the proper position.
Despite Richards best efforts though, he was not Jennys’ favourite horse. That honour had fallen, long ago, to Lisa, who soon found herself bent over on all fours. Unlike the horsy play in the house, she could not get onto her hands and knees and still be tall enough for the poles to hold the carriage level and so, like Richard, she had to adopt a straight legged stance.
Perhaps it was the fact that this was more uncomfortable, or it might have been the way that her ass was thrust lewdly up, but Lisa did not like this, she did not like this at all. It was one thing to play horsy in the living room, but this was becoming far too unhealthy. In fact, it had become a fixation. As well as this, because of her posture, it was very uncomfortable to raise her head and so could not see where she was going. In short, she soon became tired, uncomfortable and had reached the point where enough is enough. Unbuckling herself from the belt she stood up and made her feelings known. Despite the bond that she had forged with the children, Lisa told how uncomfortable she was and that she felt that it might be better if they did not play this game again.
The children, especially Jenny, were heartbroken. Although Richard buckled himself back between the shafts, it was not the same and reluctantly the carriage was wheeled back into the barn.
Several weeks passed without incident and Lisa began to suspect that the childrens’ unhealthy obsession had cooled. Although Richard still acted as horse occasionally, they time that the children dedicated to this game began to diminish.
One Saturday, Lisa relaxed on the porch reading her text books. Since she no longer had to worry about being a horse and given the summer warmth, she could now start to wear skirts again and had chosen to wear a short white skirt and halter top to relax in. It was another hour before she would need to worry about cooking the meal and she could keep an eye on the children as they played in the yard. This was fine, but the children were not playing, Jenny seemed to be getting worked up about something. Lisa put down her book and got up from the comfort of the sun lounger to investigate. She did, however, catch some snippets of the exchange.
“Look we can’t not in front of Lisa,” Richard protested. “You know how she feels about it.”
“But I can’t play in front of Lisa, or dad and I want to go out and now I can’t,” Jennys child like whine protested. “It’s not fair.”
Tears began to fall down the girl/womans cheeks as Jenny was again denied. Lisa knew what this was about and, despite her reservations, could not help but feel guilty. Jenny would, because of her head injuries, never understand why she could not continue to play her favourite game.
After some questioning, Lisa discovered that while she had refused to play, Richard had been getting up at dawn, every weekend when she had been baby sitting, in order to take Jenny for a run in her carriage. She was not surprised to learn that Richard had been busy overcoming the initial problems with the set up of the carriage and the horses equipment. Perhaps it was the guilt, or the fact that Jenny would never stop crying, that Lisa found herself trying out the new equipment for herself.
Firstly she placed a thick leather belt around her waist. This had a pair of chains, at either side to connect to the shafts. Another chain hung down from this next to the shaft chains and fed below her ass, forming a cradle as it looped up to attach to the other side of the belt. Another chain ran over, what would be the top of her rear flank, joining the other chain so that, when she was bent forward, this would help to hold the cradle chain in position as it fed around her rear. This chain extended so that two length would hang, one on either side to enable the shafts to be attached at a second point. Two additional chains formed loops next to the belt buckle. Richard explained that these were to guide a second set of reigns.
The next item Lisa could only describe as a boob harness. It was like a bra without the cups. It was a series of leather straps that encircled her boobs. Lucy helped with the fitting, as Richard dutifully turned his back so that Lisa could feed the strange garment under her halter, which she needed to undo to fit the strange bra, before pulling back up over her exposed breasts and re-tying behind her head. More chains dangled from this, the lower set attached to the belt, like some perverse suspender belt.
Richards next alteration was to two sets of boots that he had found. The first pair were a set of riding boots that he had cut apart and re-stitched and the second pair he had found at the back of the tack room. These boots had never been intended for any purpose other than fashion. Although Richard did not know it, they were his mothers. She had bought them as a prop to a vicars and tarts party, as well as for the obvious lustful looks that they inspired from her husband. Originally they had been a pair of six inch, thigh length, stiletto boots, but Richard had adapted them in a similar fashion to the riding boots.
Richard had removed the Stiletto heel from the thigh length boots. He had fashioned a metal plate for the front part of the boots inside. He had welded bolts to the underside of the plate, which fed through four holes cut in the soles of the boot. These allowed Richard to attach the boot to what Lisa thought were actual hooves, but which, as Richard explained, were in fact moulded resin with four vertical holes drilled in them to accommodate the bolts from the boot. The bolts were finally attached to a real horse shoe. Richard had used a hammer to pound the bolts until their heads were flush with the show, acting as rivets that would hold the entire assembly together and which he filed flush with the rest of the shoe.
Lisa had to admit that the workmanship was excellent. Although she knew, because Richard explained how they were made, one would not be able to tell that these had been anything other than these strange hoof boots. Additional buckles had been added to the side of the boot to offer support. One side effect of this, given the thickness of the leather used, was that it was impossible to bend the leg at the knee, once the buckles were fastened. Lisa commented on this and watched with growing concern as the next item was fitted and explained with what she considered an unhealthy obsessive ness. However, she had agreed to this and it might damage her relationship with the children if she went back on her word how.
The riding boots that Richard had found had received similar treatment. In addition to a set of hooves and buckles, most of the lower boot had been unpicked and was now joined on to a wooden extension to the boot. This extension had been attached to the leather of the boot so that, when worn, it would effectively lengthen the leg. This was not, however meant to be worn on the feet, but the arms. A metal bar had been attached inside the boot so that the wearer could grip the bar with their hand. The original zipper had been replaced by laces so that the strange hoof gloves could be tightly secured to the arms of the wearer. These were designed so that they covered most of the arm, like a full length opera glove.
Lisa listened intently, standing in her strange leather and chain belt and hoof boots, as Richard fitted the strange hoof gloves to her arm. She dutifully grabbed the bar at the bottom of the boot, so that her hand formed a fist. Richard then laced her into the glove before tightly buckling the straps over the top of the laces. This was not that comfortable and Lisa found that they were quite tight, so that she could not simply pull her balled fist out of its tight leather embrace.
The next item to come out of the tack room almost made her balk. But she had agreed and would keep to her word. It was a leather yoke. A large leather hoop which Richard lifted over her head. The upper set of chains of the strange leather bra, two at the front and two at the back, now clipped onto the leather yoke
“Richard, are you sure that I need all of this stuff? I mean, I am sure that it is very realistic, but it seems a bit obsessive to me,” Lisa questioned as he lifted the final item, head harness, towards her.
“Trust me. I have tried this myself and it does make a difference. Now open wide,” Richard asked as he brought the bit towards the mouth.
Lisa somehow doubted that he had worn the bra but, despite her reservations, opened her mouth as the bit was presented.
Richard buckled the bit in place fed the reigns so that they hung, like a train behind her.
“How’s that? Is it comfortable?”
Lisa worked her jaw in the familiar devise before answering.
“Ich ot oo add. I ill ee all ight,” Lisa responded.
“Good,” Richard smiled before helping Lisa onto all fours and fetching the cart.
Once Lisa was aligned between the shafts, Richard attached the chains on the yoke, belt and rear flank, so that each pole was attached to three chains. Once he had adjusted the chains so that the poles were close to horizontal, he went to fetch his sister.
Jenny was dressed in a fine, Victorian style, riding outfit, complete with veiled top hat and ankle length skirt. This had been her mothers. She had worn it when driving carriages at the local shows. She also carried a long riding whip. Lisas’ unease grew.
Once Jenny had taken up the driving position she twitched the reigns and flicked the reigns in the manner that Lisa now knew meant she was to walk on. Lisa obliged and this strange procession of Lisa the cart horse and Jenny, accompanied by Richard and Lucy walking either side, set off.
An hour and a half later they had gone perhaps three miles down the country lane and Lisa had had enough. The extra equipment had made it easier, but her back was starting to hurt, her joints were stiff and she felt very uncomfortable and exposed. She stopped and started making grunting noises, despite Jennys’ best efforts with the reigns and the riding whip, which was nothing more than a pole with a long length of string attached to one end and designed to spook the horse with a fast movement.
Richard undid the bridle so that she could tell them what was wrong.
“Sorry Richard, but I have had enough. This is starting to hurt and I am not happy about this. Get me out of this now.”
“O.K. we will turn back,” Richard replied.
“No. This is painful, undignified and frankly unhealthy. Get this stuff off of me. It has gone beyond a joke,” Lisa fumed.
“O.K.” Richard replied as he gave Lucy a meaningful look.
Lucy reached under the seat and pulled out another leather harness, which she passed to her brother, out of site of Lisa. Richard removed the bridle with the soft leather bit, while Lucy reached under Lisa to get to the belt. They had planned for just such an eventuality. Jenny had been very upset for some time and her protective siblings had devised a way to force Lisa to resume her pony play.
Lucy clipped another set of chains to the underside of the belt, the other end being attached to D Rings at the knees of the thigh length boots. While they would not interfere with Lisas’ walk, they were just short enough to make it impossible for her to stand up properly. Another short chain was attached to the ankle of each boot, forming a hobble.
Unaware of this, Lisa stood quietly as Richard removed the bridle which he had already unbuckled to remove the bit.
“Look I am sorry Richard, but this has become an obsession. I think it would be bett Unghh. Oww. Ichard. Ott arrr oo ooin?” Lisa protested as Richard brought the other bit to her mouth and forcefully shoved it into place, quickly buckling the new, metal bit into place.
Lisa struggled and tried to get away, which was when she noticed the chains attached to her boots.
The new bit was made of metal and formed an inverted V in her mouth from an articulated joint. She could feel a large metal ring on each cheek and also felt that there was a straight metal extension joined to this, which went down past her jaw.
Richard secured the bridle tightly about her head before moving on to the rest of Lisas conversion. Undoing the halter top, which was tied in place by simple bows, Richard was pleased by the site of Lisas breasts as they swung ponderously free of their material prison. Richard then took a length of leather attached to the back of the bridle and fed it through a buckle at the back of the bra, pulling Lisas’ head up sharply. Next he adjusted the straps that encircled her breasts so that they were tightly clamped by the leather.
While Richard was preparing Lisa at the front, Lucy had been busy at the rear. She had unbuttoned Lisas’ skirt and removed it. Next the young girl pulled down Lisas’ knickers, which she lowered by unclipping the chains, one at a time, that were attached to the knees, and then, once the knickers were pulled clear of these, re-attaching the chain and repeating the process for the hobble.
Lisa was mortified and struggled violently at this unwarranted assault.
The children had discussed long hours how to ensure that Lisa cooperated. One method that would ensure that Lisa remained as Jennys horse was humiliation. That is why her clothes had been removed and why the children had brought their parents digital video camera. Stills and video would be saved, edited and used to blackmail Lisa into remaining in equine form while she baby sat. It was the prospect of causing embarrassment that had prompted Richard to make the strange item that Lucy retrieved from under the seat.
Lisa was still protesting when something hard was placed at the entrance to her anus and, after a little force, shoved deeply into her ass. Richard had made a wooden butt plug, with long horse hair attached to one end. Lucy had just played pin the tail on Lisa in a way that Lucy swore made the captured baby sitter whinny.
The final item in Lisas’ new attire was a new set of reigns that addressed the second method of motivation and was another reason for Lisas nudity. Richard fed a new reign through eye holes in the sides of the leather yoke and attaching these to the lower holes in the metal bit, so that they formed an X as they crossed over themselves. Adjusting, using buckles, Richard corrected the reigns so that he had the desired length and that two evil looking clips attached to the leather would clamp themselves onto Lisas’ nipples. Richard did not know much about girls, but had read enough to know that a girls nipples would grow when stimulated, or cold. It was not cold and so Richard set about playing with Lisas delicate buds until they were quite firm.
Lisa screamed loudly into her bit as the clips were painfully attached to her nipples. She had wondered at Richards intent, worried that he intended to rape her. But she had not expected this.
When she had calmed down, Lucy adjusted the length of the reign again and, with Richard help, fed the reigns through the guide chains and attached two new clips, one to each pussy lip. It took Lisa longer to settle down this time, but eventually she stood still as the children passed each reign over her back and attached the free ends to the upper holes in the bit.
Lucy undid the rear chains, while Richard videoed their captive. Jenny reached under the seat and brought out a real whip, of plated leather. Grabbing the reigns with on hand, Jenny flicked the reigns as she wielded the whip, which landed on Lisas exposed rump, causing her to flinch as she set off, crying loudly into the bit at the sudden pain in her rump, nipple and pussy.
Two hours later they returned to the farm. Unhooking her from the cart they attached the knee chains and led her to the stables. She was led into a stall with fresh straw. The yoke and bridle were removed and a new, bit less head harness was placed on her head. Lisa had screamed as the clamps were removed from her delicate areas and fresh blood rushed into her tortured flesh. Lisa just did as she was commanded as the Jenny got her ready for the night. She was scrubbed with a hose and sponge and her tail removed. Richard continued to video her until she was ready for bed, a cut down horse blanket covering her flanks and a bowl of home made trail mix secured to the wall at head height.
“You are now Jennys horse Lisa. I am sorry that it has had to come to this, but you left us no choice. If you behave we might remove the clamps next time. But if you do not show up next week, or if you tell anybody, we will start letting people know about this interesting web page that you have made. Good night Lisa, or should I call you Lucky. You have a busy day tomorrow.
Lisa was in pain, from the marks that the whip had made and by those awful clamps. She could not lie down because of the boots. If she got down, she doubted if she could get up and as for peeing, she did not relish the idea of finding a corner. She eyed the trail mix with disdain. Funnily enough she had lost her appetite.
Lisa paced around her stable until eventually, exhausted, she found out how to sleep standing up.