Episode 7: The County Fair
Isabel opened her eyes to find Charlotte’s face barely inches from her own. The blonde was sleeping, face relaxed, soft pink lips gently parted. She was wearing some sort of harness, a narrow black leather strap running around her forehead and another across the bridge of her nose linked to it by a metal ring, two more ran down across her cheeks to rings at the corners of her mouth and there, between her white teeth was a black bar; not a harness but a bridle of some sort. Even like this, Isabel thought, Charlotte was beautiful, her eyes closed, those long golden lashes, blonde hair tousled intertwined with straps running around her head.
Isabel knew immediately that she was wearing the same thing or at least something very similar, she too could feel a bar between her teeth, something with a solid core and soft coating that at least cushioned her teeth; leather, she thought, over steel. She wondered if she could look as beautiful as Charlotte like this and felt an overwhelming love for the sleeping blonde.
She knew too that they were both restrained, why wouldn’t they be, here, wherever ‘here’ was? A quick glance down to Charlotte’s shoulders showed her to be strapped into some sort of body harness, thick black leather straps across her shoulders running down to meet between her breasts which were nestled into a little half cup leather bra that left her nipples exposed, her ringed nipples. Isabel’s eyes took in her own breasts, a similar size to Charlotte’s now in their own leather cups; the nipples ringed too. They both had straps around her waists and three from the lowest belt disappearing between their thighs; Isabel could feel them tight against her sex.
Charlotte’s arms were drawn behind her back and Isabel knew she was restrained too, she could feel cuffs around her wrists and leather mittens on her hands, the tips of the mittens were linked pinning them together in the small of her back and it felt like they were connected to the harness too; there were more cuffs around her biceps and for a moment she strained against them testing her bonds, hearing leather creak. Then she stopped, she knew the straps would all be secure, locked probably, like the straps around her own loins, like the collar she could see around Charlotte’s neck. There was no point in struggling even if she could remember the escapology tricks Charlotte had taught her in one of their earlier adventures. Bizarrely, she realised abruptly, she wasn’t absolutely sure she wanted to escape. What she wanted, at this moment, was to lie here beside Charlotte, ready to share the next adventure with her, to be there close to her when she opened her eyes, to be the first thing she saw.
She couldn’t resist kissing her.
Charlotte’s eyes popped open.
‘Iz?’ Charlotte frowned. It came out as ‘Ith’ thanks to the bit and had an adorable sleepy quality.
‘Yesh.’ Isabel’s speech was affected too.
‘Where are we?’ Charlotte blinked away sleep.
‘Another one of Kink’sh shenarios.’
‘Oh.’ Charlotte’s eyes met her own then looked round. ‘You’re wearing a…bridle?’
‘Yesh, sho are you.’
Charlotte looked down. ‘Oh.’
‘Yesh, we’re tied up again.’
‘Bud…’ Charlotte frowned again. ‘Waid. Did you jusht kissh me?’
‘Yesh.’
Charlotte frowned again and Isabel’s breath caught in her throat unsure, suddenly fearing she had gone too far. They had been intimate and in the last escape Charlotte had…played with her…sexually - but that had been to facilitate their escape; their failed escape.
Then Charlotte smiled.
Her eyes were so blue!
‘I like id when you kish me,’ the blonde said lifting her head, ‘do id again.’
Isabel felt a surge of pleasure and kissed her.
‘Hmmm…’ Charlotte returned the kiss, her lips warm, full then suddenly pulled her mouth away. ‘Wait! Are we poniesh?’
Isabel was surprised by the comment. ‘Oh? Yesh, I shupposhe shomeshing like thad.’
‘Cool!’ Charlotte opened her eyes again, looking down between their bodies then pulling at her bonds. ‘Wow! I’ve alwaysh wanded to be a pony girl.’ She tried to sit up and failed, falling back onto her side then tried again, succeeding in reaching her knees and twisting to look behind her. ‘Oh!’ Her smile broadened. ‘We’ve god dails doo.’
‘Oh.’ Isabel had been aware of something inside her, two things actually but as the blonde moved, she’d seen the tail protruding from the back of the harness and guessed what it was mounted on.
‘Ohhh! Kinky!’ Charlotte’s voice took on a suggestive tone and she struggled to her feet, examining herself, taking in her harness then looking over her shoulder to look at her tail again. ‘Thish ish really cool.’ She wiggled her bottom watching the tail swish from side to side.
‘Charlodde?’
‘Hooves doo.’ The blonde tapped her right foot then pawed the ground. ‘And…’ Charlotte stilled suddenly. ‘Hafe you god someshing inshide you?’
‘Inshide?’ Isabel felt herself blush. ‘Ash in inshide my pushy.’
‘Yesh.’ Charlotte grinned. ‘Come on Ish, don’d be shy. Our pushies have been stuffed wish all kinds of shings since w’ve been here.’ She shook her hips. ‘Ohhh, yesh. I like thad.’
Isabel watched as Charlotte lifted her knees.
‘Thad’s even bedder!’ The blonde began to trot round, her hooves clip-clopping on the floor. ‘And we’re in a shtable.’
The observation, Isabel realised was undeniable, straw on the floor, a split door with the sky visible through the open top half, brick walls with metal rings to which a pony could, presumably, be tethered. A crop and some leather thongs hanging from hooks.
‘Charlodde,’ Isabel said, still lying on her side looking up at her friend. ‘When you shay you wanded do be a pony…’
‘Yesh, didn’d you? I ushed to ask my dad do led me shleep in the stable.’
‘Don’d girlsh like you wand do own poniesh?’
‘Courshe!’ Charlotte said excitedly. ‘I had one, but I wanded do be one doo…’ She looked down sharply. ‘Waid…whadyou mean girlsh like me?’
Isabel reddened. ‘I’m jushd…’
‘Jushd whad?’
Isabel struggled to get to her feet…hooves, whatever she was supposed to be standing on, wobbling for a moment before getting her balance. It wasn’t quite like walking en-point but it was close; she could feel some sort of spring mechanism in the boot when she pushed down and guessed it was to aid her when running.
‘Well…you had a pony,’ she said somewhat lamely.
At that moment, Priya appeared and opened the stable door.
‘There you are,’ Priya said with a slight smile. She was dressed in a crinoline dress with a very tight conical bodice, her waist reduced to an unnatural slenderness and her full breasts augmented by heavy corsetry behind the frilled neckline; as she pulled the door open. The skirt was flared and frilled. She was wearing a bonnet too.
‘Why are you dresshed a Scarled O’Hara?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Well, while you’ve been…’ Priya looked around the stable, ‘standing around, I’ve discovered that we are on a farm and we’re expected to attend an agricultural show.’ She reached into her cleavage of and pulled out a piece of paper, shaking it open to show them.
“County Show” the flyer announced. “Agricultural events…milking demonstrations…equestrian events…”; there was a map and picture to suggest that the equestrian events involved two legged ponies.
‘Oh gread,’ Isabel said, irritated, ‘equestrian evendsh. Thad meansh ush, right?’
‘Indeed.’ Priya smiled threateningly, reaching to take the crop down from its hook. ‘There’s some beautiful tack for my prize ponies out there.’
‘Why can’d you be a pony?’ Isabel asked.
‘Because, I’m clearly the plantation owner here and you’re my ponies.’ Priya waved the whip giving a smile that was slightly sinister. ‘Which, if I may say, is quite a reversal of fortunes.’
‘Couldn’d you jushd undie ush?’ Isabel asked taking a step backwards, her eyes on the whip.
‘I could,’ said Priya, ‘but the scenario is pretty clear and if you want to get out of here then we’ll have to play along. Besides I’ve just taken a crash course in carriage driving via a book I found in the house.’
‘And if I don’d wand do play along?’
‘Then I’ll have to use this.’ Priya lifted her whip.
‘We’re fine with id, aren’d we Ish?’ Charlotte stepped between Priya and Isabel. ‘Come on, id will be fun.’
Priya took the leather thongs from their hooks and, with the ease of someone whose hands were not restrained behind them, clipped them to the two girls’ collars and lead them out through the stable door.
‘Where’sh Tiff?’ Isabel asked, following reluctantly.
‘Through here.’ Priya led them across a stable yard into a barn.
‘Fuck!’ Isabel and Charlotte gasped together as they saw Tiffany.
Tiffany stood in a metal pen. She was bent over at the waist, her legs a little apart and her arms spread, locked in manacles that were chained to some sort of yoke across her shoulders. Like Isabel and Charlotte she wore a harness but hers consisted of tan leather straps around her body, above and below her breasts, round her waist, the straps went down her arms too and her legs and short chains held her in place inside the pen. Like Isabel and Charlotte, the harness ran between her legs too and she clearly had a tail, red to match her hair. She wore some sort of halter too although in her case, the bit was a large ring gag that wedged her mouth wide open. They had, of course, all seen the busty redhead restrained before but what had clearly caught all their attention was the sight of Tiffany’s breasts or, more accurately, the size. They were huge, at least three times their normal size, potentially four; huge globes hanging beneath her body; bulging like basketballs; but that wasn’t the only thing that stood out, fastened to Tiffany’s nipples were two huge cups with tubes leading off them to some sort of machine that looked very much like a pump.
‘As far as I can tell,’ Priya said, ‘you three represent my livestock. Just like you two are ponies, Tiffany here is our milk cow and if I have set the milker up correctly, the churn up there will fill and release the mechanism holding her in place. Then we can then load her into the wagon and go to the show.’
‘Fgg ovv.’ Tiffany glared at them rattling the chains of her manacles but the yoke was fixed firmly to the frame of the pen.
‘How doesh the milking machine work?’ Isabel asked.
‘That’s where you come in,’ Priya said, turning to them and pulling on Charlotte’s reins. ‘Come on, walkies.’
‘I’m a pony not a pet!’ Charlotte growled but she followed Priya to what looked like a large hamster wheel on one wall of the barn.
Priya pushed her inside and fastened some straps that hung from the axle of the wheel to her harness.
‘Don’t want you falling over and hurting yourself.’ Priya stepped away. ‘Off you go.’
Charlotte glanced sideways at her and Priya who struck her on the bottom with her whip causing Charlotte to step forwards and the wheel began to turn.
‘Nngggh!’ Tiffany gasped and Isabel saw pain show in her face as her right breast quivered and beside her the milking machine made a sucking sound.
Priya turned and looked at the scene in satisfaction. ‘Better get on and do the other side.’ She picked up Isabel’s tether and led her to a wheel identical to the one Charlotte was now walking inside that was mounted on the opposite wall. ‘We don’t want our prize milker to get lop-sided do we?’
Tiffany growled around her gag as Priya fastened Isabel inside the wheel. ‘Do I need to whip you too?’
Isabel shook her head and began to walk, the wheel creaking as it turned beneath her booted feet.
Beside her Tiffany gave another grunt of pain.
It seemed a slow process, the two ponies walking in their treadmills, the pump sucking away - shlurp, shlurp, shlurp - at Tiffany’s breasts, making them quiver as a white liquid running from her nipples down the pipes and into the churn which gradually descended.
Isabel watched the process initially despite its unusual nature but quickly found herself distracted. The plugs inside her were moving; every time she took a step, whatever was in her pussy pushed a little deeper then slid out slightly; the tail plug did the same -in, out, in out - it was irritating at first but then she began to get herself into a rhythm and the plug…dildo inside her began to move at that rhythm and soon she began to feel the urge to walk faster. The rhythm of Charlotte’s step told her the blonde might be feeling a similar incentive.
She glanced over to see the blonde smiling around her bit.
She was partly relieved but mostly disappointed when a loud click made her look to the side and saw the churn had settled on the trigger and released Tiffany or at least released the yoke from the frame allowing her to stand up straight. She might have been milked for the last fifteen minutes or so, but her breasts seemed almost as large.
As if by mutual consent, Isabel and Charlotte stopped walking and the pumps fall silent. In her wheel the blonde was flushed, the look in her eyes confirming that this was not just due to the exertion.
‘Good girls.’ Priya patted Charlotte’s bottom and then came over to praise Isabel. Then the two ponies watched as their ‘mistress’ removed the suction cups from Tiffany’s breasts provoking an angry growl from the redhead.
Then Priya led her milk cow out of the barn.
‘Fugg, I’m enjoying this,’ said Charlotte. ‘I love being a pony.’
Isabel knew she was just as flushed and wondered how much was simply from the exertion.
Priya returned a few moments later.
‘Time to get you two hitched to the wagon.’
Isabel wanted to protest but Charlotte put up no resistance and even nickered as Priya led her out into the yard. It was a warm day, the sun high in a blue sky suggesting it was near midday. Charlotte nickered again and tossed her head making her long blonde hair…mane dance.
‘Shtop id id!’ Isabel hissed to the blonde.
‘Bud id’s such fun.’
Isabel stood watching as Priya harnessed Charlotte to the wagon, clipping leather straps to the blonde’s harness and then reins to her bridle. Behind her, Tiffany was restrained to a frame that was very similar to the one she’d just been released from. Even in this short time, her breasts seemed to have enlarged again, and there was milk dripping from her nipples.
‘I hobe you know whad you’re doing,’ Isabel said as she was harnessed beside Charlotte
‘There was a manual,’ Priya reassured her, ‘besides, I’ve driven a horse and carriage back in India.’
‘Hey!’
‘The manual was very specific,’ Priya said.
‘Did id shay I had do have bells on my nibbles?’
‘Actually it did.’ Priya clipped the bells onto Isabel’s nipple rings then moved to Charlotte.
‘You can’d imaging how much I’m enjoining thish,’ Charlotte said.
Isabel rolled her eyes.
Plumes came next on the top of their harnesses and then blinkers that clipped to their harnesses along with decorative brasses.
‘The show will be over by the dime we ged there,’ muttered Isabel.
Priya brought her whip down on Isabel’s buttocks.
‘Hey.’
‘Stop complaining.’
Isabel glowered at her but said nothing more.
‘Ready?’ Priya asked.
‘Nod really,’ Isabel said.
‘Oh, come on, Ish,’ Charlotte said.
‘Why can’d she be the bony?’
‘Because I’m the the mistress,’ Priya snapped, ‘and, if it helps, I can barely breathe in this very tight corset.’
With the ponies fully kitted out, Priya, retrieved the milk churn from the barn and loaded it into the wagon then she climbed aboard and, when the reins were shaken Isabel and Charlotte stepped forward and the wagon began to move. Isabel felt its weight immediately and they both strained at first, harnesses tightening and creaking. However, once the wagon was in motion it became easier to pull and, as they gathered speed, Isabel felt the spring in her boot beginning to help her. Between them, they drew the wagon across the farmyard and out of the gate onto a rough dirt road.
‘I think we can go a little faster.’ Priya shook the reins.
Charlotte seemed to respond immediately and a second later Isabel was forced to respond to the sting of the whip.
‘Hey!’
‘Come along,’ Priya called. ‘We don’t want to be late.’
Isabel grumbled into her gag and a moment later the whip fell again.
‘Ow!’
Pulling the wagon wasn’t, Isabel realised, nearly as bad as she expected, even with her arms restrained and the bells bouncing on her nipples. A lot of this had to do with the dildo inside her and the rub of the crotch strap of her harness which seemed designed purely to give its wearer pleasure. There was something about running beside Charlotte too even if, thanks to the blinkers, she couldn’t really see the blonde.
Beside her, the countryside rolled by, fields, hedges, wooden fences, the occasional barn or farmhouse.
She was flushed and panting and, after a few hundred yards, increasingly horny.
Kink stood at the gate to the field. He was dressed as a southern dandy with frilled shirt, bootlace tie and his usual long black leather coat. He wore a black stetson too.
‘Well,’ he said pulling out a pocket watch from his waistcoat as Priya drew her ponies to a halt beside him, both panting and moving from foot to foot with a desire to keep moving. ‘Half way through and only just behind time. Five minutes past two.’ His accent had taken on a southern drawl. Despite his comment about them being behind time, he strolled slowly around them studying the ponies. ‘Very good, Miss Prince, they’re a mighty fine pair and you’ve decked them out mighty pretty too.’ He tapped one of Charlotte’s nipple bells with the tip of his cane then patted her bottom. Isabel glared at him experiencing a mix of anger and frustration but Charlotte seemed to relish the attention.
Then, after glancing up at Priya, Kink unlatched the gate. ‘Dairy stand is over there.’ He pointed with his cane. ‘And you’ll need to milk the cow again soon. Don’t want parts of her exploding.’
Priya shook the reins and Isabel found herself immediately in motion picking her way over the rougher ground which made pulling the wagon more difficult.
Around them there were other wagons similar to theirs each drawn by a pair of human ponies, some male, some female; there were farmers too and tradesmen unloading livestock or goods. Some of the facies were familiar from their previous escape including base commander Songsten as a sharpshooter with pair of male ponies and a little blonde sheepdog rubbing herself at her boots.
Priya stopped the wagon in front of a stall bearing a sign saying ‘Fresh Milk: 20c per glass’ There was a pen beside it and another milking machine. Behind them, Isabel heard Tiffany groan and rattle her chains.
Isabel and Charlotte stood waiting as Priya unloaded Tiffany and lead her towards the new milking machine. The redhead was clearly reluctant.
‘Ish ish sho ugging uiliading.’ Tiffany said, which might have been ‘this is so fucking humiliating’ adding after ‘Y dids eally urd.’ Which Isabel translated as ‘my tits really hurt’.
Both the huge globes had swollen since the last milking session and looked shiny and red.
‘Are you…?’ Charlotte leaned towards Isabel. ‘I mean, you won’t believe how turned on I am by this.’
Isabel turned awkwardly to look at her, the harness and the collar and blinkers all contriving to make this almost as difficult as pulling a wagon in bondage. Charlotte’s face was flushed.
‘Ish ok,’ Isabel said.
‘You didn’d gum then?’ The blonde’s blue eyes flashed.
‘You…?’
‘Twice.’ Charlotte grinned slightly lopsidedly around her bit. ‘I was hoping we could play pony together again…when we’re out.’
Isabel was about to say no and then realised what Charlotte was asking. ‘Er…’
‘I’m happy do be the bony.’ Charlotte hurried on. ‘You can dake Priya’s pard. Do you shink I’d be allowed to drod round the campus?’
‘Oh.’ Isabel found herself colouring. ‘I don’d shink sho.’
‘Shame.’ Charlotte leaned forward and kissed her.
‘Whad wash thad for?’
‘Because your sho shensible.’
As they stood waiting Isabel noticed a sign pasted to a board nailed to a wooden stake in the ground. “Escape Stakes”. It showed a picture of a pony girl who looked a lot like Charlotte pulling a buggy being whipped up a steep slope by a woman dressed similarly to Priya. “Entry Fee $20”.
She nudged Charlotte.
‘Do we have to do thad,’ Charlotte said.
‘Be my gueshd,’ Isabel said.
‘You musd be enjoying id doo.’ Charlotte lifted her head and rocked from foot to foot.
Isabel found herself doing the same, enjoying the way the plugs inside her moved and the strap between her legs teased her. She’d cum too in their drive here, when Priya had made them trot but for some reason she found herself reluctant to tell Charlotte.
‘Hey, Priya.’ Charlotte called.
Priya had finished securing Tiffany to the new frame, a rather stricter arrangement than the previous pen. This one held her almost immobile, bent once again at the hips with her arms still locked securely in the yoke. Isabel noticed this one had no back leaving Tiffany’s bottom fully exposed. Their ‘Mistress’ was in the process of connecting Tiffany to the milking machine, squeezing milk from one of the ‘milk cow’s’ huge breasts and smearing it over her nipples and areoles to ensure the suction cups stuck properly. Tiffany was moaning and rattling her chains.
‘It will hurt less when we draw some of the milk off,’ Priya reassured the whimpering redhead, kneading the engorged flesh and providing curses from Tiffany.
‘Misdresh Priya,’ Charlotte said as Priya approached them.
They both saw her tap the whip into her gloved hand, her expression suggesting that in her world, ponies did not talk.
‘I shink we need to enter thad race.’ Charlotte nodded towards the sign.
‘Do you have twenty dollars in your pocket?’ Priya asked.
‘Ash you can shee, I don’d have bockeds,’ Charlotte said.
Priya regarded her cooly but looked at the poster.
“First prize: Four tickets for a sundown cruise on the ‘Steamer Freedom’”
‘We need to shell Diffany’s milk,’ Isabel said causing Tiffany to mutter and unintelligible expletive through her gag and glare at her harshly.
‘For twenty cents a glass we’d better get a move on filling that second churn,’ Priya said.
‘I ag ere u gow.’ Tiffany managed which Isabel took to mean ‘I am here you know.’
The portable pump was once again pony powered, a pair of steps that was rather like a cross trainer and Isabel soon found herself stepping up and down as Tiffany's huge breasts were tapped for their milk. The presence of the redheaded milk cow attracted attention and there was soon a line of punters at Priya’s stall all eager to taste the bounty of Tiffany’s body and the fruits of Isabel’s labours. Isabel suddenly realised that she was enjoying herself; there was something about the movement needed to work the pump that made the dildo inside her twitch in a way that was far beyond anything she’d experienced already; a kind of rhythmic fucking that made her want to carry on despite the gradual burning sensation that was building in her thighs.
Her exertions were attracting the interest of the crowd too and soon she was surrounded by a dozen or more men and women drinking small glasses of Tiffany juice and watching Isabel in full pony regalia performing for them with her plumes dancing, her nipple bells tinkling and her tail swishing. It was only. A matter of time before one of the onlookers began to encourage her with a few gentle taps of a whip he carried and others soon joined in. Harnessed in place and with her arms restrained, there was nothing a ponygirl could do but suffer the repeated smacks and slaps to her undefended bottom and look to her friends for help. Tiffany, of course, was in no position to offer any aid, bent over having her jugs sucked dry by Isabel’s exertion; besides, her expression showed that she was more concerned with her own plight. Charlotte was as helpless as Isabel was herself though was watching with a somewhat rueful smile and Priya was now frantically filling glasses from the milk that sputtered out of the pump having emptied the first churn.
She knew she really shouldn’t be enjoying any of this but then the first orgasm washed through her and after that she didn’t really care even when she saw Charlotte’s expression and knew the blonde had seen it all.
‘We’ve done it,’ Priya said excitedly, picking up the pile of coins from the table.
Isabel stopped pumping. Her legs were burning and she was dripping with sweat in the hot afternoon. She’d enjoyed five orgasms as she worked the treadmill; after the first one there had been three gentle ones that had lingered and then a final big one which had made her stumble and earned her half a dozen strokes of the whip.
She was still wondering how she felt about this. There hadn’t, she was sure, been any real need for Priya to whip her except that she had slackened her pace at a moment when there was quite a demand for Tiffany juice and Priya was to all intents and purposes in charge of this particular escape scenario. Priya was, she reasoned, just being diligent although she also seemed to be enjoying herself rather a lot. She’d thought that with Priya’s professed love of bondage she might have preferred being on the receiving end but that appeared not to be the case.
What was it with bondage and S&M and that sort of stuff. Why did people like to be restrained? What was there to like about being whipped?
Uncomfortably, she realised she knew the answer.
There had been an afternoon in the theatre escape scenario when Charlotte had tied her up and forced her to engage in the most blissful and fulfilling sex she had ever experienced. That had involved the use of a whip, something that was entirely unnecessary from the point of view of the escapology practice in which they were allegedly engaging. Utterly helpless, and completely in Charlotte’s power she had been forced to endure the whip on her bare bottom and, after that on her pussy and then on her nipples. Charlotte had been utterly merciless, driving Isabel to unprecedented heights of pleasure and then, as she squirmed whimpering through her gag, forced her helpless captive to beg for punishment as an inducement for her captor to allow her the orgasm she realised she needed so intensely.
She was just pondering what she might say to Priya about whipping her when Kink appeared again.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Prince.’ He tipped his hat. ‘Perhaps I could offer to accompany you to the race stall and assist you with the selection of a suitable buggy.’
To Isabel’s surprise, Priya smiled. ‘Very kind of you, Professor.’
Kink offered her his arm and Priya took it.
‘Be good, girls,’ she said glancing over her shoulder and she strode off down the field arm in arm with Professor Kink.
‘Where are dhey going?’ Isabel asked.
‘I shink I mighd be able do guesh,’ Charlotte said with a smile around her bridle. ‘I hope she’sh going do pud in a good word for ush.’
‘Shludd!’ Tiffany commented. ‘I’m gonna deg er.’
‘Ah, it’s so lovely to see our little Priya in love.’
Isabel turned to see a woman standing in front of the stall expectantly.
‘It can’t last though,’ the woman continued, ‘her father would never allow it.’
All three girls stared at her. The woman had dark skin and large dark eyes; she looked surprisingly like Priya with a long dark braid; she was clearly older, perhaps in her early forties and was dressed in a blue sari decorated with gold; gold bangles adorned her wrists.
Isabel watched as she picked up a cup. ‘I hope I’m not too late.’ She looked at each of them in turn. ‘Well, I can see I’m going to take to serve myself.’ She held the cup below the funnel that collected Tiffany’s milk.
‘Dwendy shnds,’ the redhead growled.
‘Itsh, dwendy shends a gup.’ Isabel translated as clearly as she was able.
Tiffany glared at her.
‘Very well.’ The woman rolled her eyes and then took a coin out of her bag, placing it on the table ‘It has cost me a lot of money to get myself here, you know.’ She held the cup out again. ‘I shall expect it full.’
Tiffany growled again, the tone becoming more threatening as Isabel began to work the pump. White Tiffany juice began to flow into the cup as, again, the pumps caused the flesh of the redhead’s huge globes to flutter and ripple.
When the cup was full, Isabel stopped pumping.
‘Thank you,’ the woman said with a smile as she lifted the cup to her lips to take a sip. ‘Mmmm, not bad.’ She licked the milky residue from her upper lip and walked over to Charlotte.
‘I’m a big fan,’ the woman said, taking hold of Charlotte’s reins then leaned in, dropping her voice although when she spoke all three girls could hear her. ‘You’re my favourite.’ The fingers of her hand holding the cup tapped one of Charlotte’s nipple bells. ‘Although, I’m quite fond of both of you.’ She glanced across at Isabel. ‘I love it when you and Izzy get dirty together.’
Charlotte turned to look at Isabel, a questioning look on her face.
‘I’m Jaganmayee Ilangovan,’ the woman said, ‘Priya’s aunt.’
Isabel and Charlotte looked at each other.
‘Can you ged ush out?’ Isabel asked.
‘Oh, I don’t think so.’ The woman laughed and took another sip of milk then pulled the scarf of her sari over her head. ‘You’ve all signed very binding contracts.’ She smiled. ‘If you’ll pardon the pun. Priya’s father has had the best lawyers looking at them.’ She took another sip. ‘Not him, obviously, proper lawyers.’ She turned back to Charlotte, using the blonde’s reins to turn her head. ‘You know, the camera does not do you justice, my dear. That skin is so perfect and I am loving your long hair, it is like the sun.’
Isabel saw Charlotte give her an helpless glance. Then the woman turned Charlotte’s head the other way and then leaned round to look at her bottom. ‘That tail is quite sexy, too.’ She pulled Charlotte’s head towards her own. ‘I have a very big plantation in India, you know. When your time here is done, I’d love to employ you as my own personal pony if you’re interested.’
‘That’sh very gind of you,’ Charlotte said, ‘I wash hoping to go back to college.’
‘Yes, Priya is determined like you. She thinks she’s actually going to be allowed to practice law but, of course, she’ll be married off as soon as she graduates then expected to produce children. Which, of course, is why I’m here.’ She took another sip of Tiffany juice. ‘After your last debacle, someone has to keep an eye on her. I can assure you she won’t be getting up to any shenanigans this time round.’
Isabel wanted to ask more but a klaxon sounded across the field.
‘Oh, they’ll be assembling for the race,’ the woman said, putting her cup on the table. ‘Thank you, Tiffany, that is quite tasty.’ She looked at the other two. ‘It was nice meeting you all.’ Then she turned and, pulling the scarf of her sari over her head, walked back into the crowd.
‘Priya’s aund?’ Isabel said.
‘Ad leasht thad answers the queshtion of whether we’re being watched,’ Charlotte said. ‘He’s shelling passhes into the scenarios doo.’
Tiffany growled.
‘Whad did you mean ‘girlsh like me’?’ Charlotte asked after a moment.
‘Whad?’
‘In the shtable, you shaid ‘girlsh like you’.’
‘Oh…’ Isabel felt herself blushing. ‘You know, girlsh who have ponies and shtuff…’
‘Oh…’ Charlotte considered this. ‘You know, id didn’d feel very nicsh and…I can’d help who I am,’ the blonde said.
‘I’m shorry,’ Isabel said, wishing they weren’t both tethered and that she could go and hug her friend.
‘Ish ok,’ Charlotte said. Then she grinned. ‘I wonder if any of my reladivesh are here?’
A few moments later, Priya returned.
‘You’ll never guess who we’ve jusht sheen,’ Isabel told her as her friend began to untie Charlotte’s bridle.
‘My Auntie Jaganmayee,’ Priya said, her cheeks colouring slightly. ‘I know, I’ve just seen her.’ She tipped her head from side to side. ‘I can’t say it wasn’t a bit embarrassing but she’s pretty broad minded. She pays local girls to play pony for her on their plantation, you know.’ Priya glanced over at Isabel. ‘If I’m honest, I think that’s partly why I’m as kinky as I am.’
‘Whad have you been doing wish Kink?’ Charlotte asked as Priya began to lead her away.
‘Sorting out a trap for you to pull in the race,’ Priya said. ‘We can hardly use the wagon.’ She glanced back at Isabel. ‘Hold the fort would you. And if you see any more of my relatives, tell them I say ‘hi’.’
And with that, Priya lead Charlotte into the crowd.
Isabel watched them go, then scanned the crowd not entirely sure what she was looking for. She thought she recognised one of the techs from the underwater base dressed as a cowgirl and thought she recognised a few other faces although, blessedly, nobody from her own family.
Over the next few minutes, Isabel was forced to milk an increasingly vocal Tiffany several times for expectant punters, not all of whom paid. Then the crowd thinned, all moving to the far side of the field where, presumably Charlotte and the other contestants were preparing for the race. The sun was sinking lower and Isabel was reminded that the Steamer ‘Freedom’ sailed at sunset.
‘If anyung cn in, Chagga gn,’ Tiffany said and was then forced to repeat it several times before Isabel caught the gist.
‘Yesh,’ Isabel said wistfully, ‘winning ish whad Charltodde does besht.’
And when she’s won and we’ve escaped what will Charlotte want with me?
The crack of a gunshot made both girl’s startle; a subsequent cheer suggesting the race had begun. It was frustrating not being able to see but Isabel guessed that, if anyone could win a pony race to pull off this bizarre escape, it would be Charlotte.
She would miss it, though, she thought. There was something exciting about being here…that wasn’t just the constant sexual arousal or even her unexpected liaison with Charlotte.
There were the impossible challenges.
And there was Charlotte!
She thought back to that afternoon in the theatre. For a few hours Isabel had belonged to Charlotte and with Isabel tied helplessly, the blonde had dominated her utterly. In truth, she always had. Charlotte always got what Charlotte wanted. Although that time it had been physical; she, Isabel, had been unable to do anything but obey her blonde mistress, subjected to the whip when she failed to obey; tongue and lips forced to explore every inch of that toned, tanned body; licking and kissing, nibbling at those swollen sensitive nipples, her tongue delving between those perfect thighs to dip into the hot wetness between her legs that matched that between her own thighs.
And then in the last escape, in the bizarre adult playground, Charlotte had been the one begging her…
The shouting and cheering grew louder and Isabel opened her eyes, brought back from her revery to the sight of Charlotte in harness running at full tilt; galloping, Isabel supposed, towards her. There were half a dozen gigs behind her but, of course, Charlotte was in the lead, with Priya sitting behind in her trap almost casually flacking the whip to encourage her pretty blonde pony. Charlotte’s blonde mane was flying, her small breasts bouncing, nipple bells jingling, teeth clamped around the bit, a look of something akin to ecstasy on her face.
As Isabel watched, Priya pulled in one of Charlotte’s reins and the blonde turned, racing past the stall where Isabel and Tiffany stood, the other ponies and traps flowing; Isabel caught a glimpse of toned athletic bodies, of sweat-glistening skin; a Caribbean girl with long legs and dreadlocks in a white harness, a brunette drawing Commander Songsten, a pretty oriental girl with a toned body and silky black mane…
And then they were gone.
‘Rather dem than me,’ Isabel said although she couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy. Trotting to the field with the harness teasing her body and the plugs inside her had produced the expected result; what would it feel like to run like that, driven harshly by the whip.
Charlotte’s whip!
‘Eeeggh!’ Tiffany gave and angry squeal and Isabel realised she had been rocking from foot to foot, activating the pump along with the phallus inside her. Milk was dripping on the grass.
‘Shorry.’ Isabel stopped, immediately feeling the loss of sensation between her legs and turned to look at the redhead who tossed her hair and rolled her eyes, the chains holding her to the frame clicking.
Across the field the race continued, there was a sudden cheer and Isabel could only wonder in frustration what had happened.
When the racers came back into view, it was Commander Songsten and her brunette who lead the pack with the dreadlocked Caribbean pony second; Charlotte was third, her expression of bliss turned to one of determination.
‘Gome on, Charlodde,’ Isabel shouted, a spray of saliva escaping her lips around her bit as she pumped her legs despite Tiffany’s protests.
Charlotte’s eyes flicked to take in Isabel and the blonde smiled round her bit.
And then they were gone.
‘Ill u scob ugging umbing!’
Isabel stopped but still swayed from side to side thinking this time of what it might be like to drive pony-Charlotte through the campus.
On the third pass, Charlotte was still behind the leaders but was matching the Caribbean girl step for step, running at her shoulder. Charlotte was the athlete but Isabel had run enough races at high school to know how this worked. Even as she watched, the blonde began to overtake her despite the furious efforts of the black skinned man driving her cracking the whip and shaking the reins. And then she was gaining on the base commander/cowboy and the brunette who Isabel thought might have driven one of the hunters in the base all those scenarios ago.
‘Gome on, Charlodde.’
The blonde didn’t turn this time, just concentrated on her pace, gaining step by step on the leader. She was no more than three paces behind when Priya struck her with the whip. Isabel heard the slap like a gunshot, the slap of leather on flesh and heard Charlotte’s muffled scream as a livid red line appeared over the mass of interlaced bruises on her buttocks. For one awful moment there was a tension in Charlotte’s body and Isabel thought the Indian girl had gone too far but then the blonde gave a sudden surge, streaking past the brunette as if she was standing still.
‘Fugg!’ Isabel turned to Tiffany who seemed equally awestruck.
‘Eesh ugging shbrgrl.’
They watched as Charlotte disappeared down the hill, her mane and tail flying.
A gunshot rang out and then a cheer went up followed by further cheering.
It was a tense fifteen or more minutes wait. Isabel was confident Charlotte had won but now she wanted to get on; the sun was sliding down in the sky, the fierce heat of noon settling to a more sultry warmth. Clouds were coming in. Around her, she could see the crowd drifting towards the gate, stalls being packed up, anxious glances to the sky.
Finally, Priya appeared leading Charlotte now free of the gig. She appeared to have lost her bonnet at some point during the race and her long dark hair, hung somewhat wildly over her shoulders and she looked excited. Charlotte’s blue eyes were sparkling and she was grinning around her bit and Isabel could see a large red rosette clipped to her right nipple.
‘We won,’ Priya said holding up an envelope. ‘Four tickets to the Steamer ‘Freedom’, we’re going to get out.’
‘Edg eg a ooge o,’ Tiffany growled.
‘She’sh ride,’ Isabel said. ‘How far ish id? How do we ged there.’
‘In the wagon,’ Pryia said, calmly. ‘There’s a map on the tickets.’
The first drops of rain fell, spattering on the dry earth of the field, sending up dust; Isabel felt a drop on her head and then another. Impatience burned inside her and she had to fight down the urge to pump her legs even though it would do no good. She watched as Priya unlocked Tiffany our from her frame.
‘Can you run behind?’ Priya asked her.
‘Nnngh.’ Tiffany shook her head and shoved out her chest.
It was obvious that she couldn’t run with breasts the size of basketballs and she was still securely manacled to the wooden yoke.
‘Ok, we’ll have to take the wagon and the ponies will have to pull you.’ Priya helped the redhead up into the front seat of the wagon, something that took a frustratingly long time with Tiffany, stiff after an afternoon locked in the frame, unbalanced by her huge breasts and unable to use her arms. Then she harnessed Charlotte to the wagon and finally came for Isabel.
The rain was falling more heavily by then; huge drops or summer rain, cold on her bare skin.
‘You know, I wish I had an umbrella,’ Priya said.
‘Uhy ub!’ Tiffany shouted, beginning to shiver as the rain started to drench her, running off her hair and washing over her breasts which were beginning to drip milk.
‘It was just a thought,’ Priya told her was she fastened the straps of Isabel’s harness to the wagon.
Tiffany wasn’t the only one who was shivering. Beside Isabel, Charlotte was shaking too and Isabel realised how exhausted her friend looked, the excitement of her victory now pushed aside by a fresh challenge. Isabel pressed herself against the blonde who responded, lifting her leg and rubbing her thigh against Isabel’s.
‘Id’ll be fine,’ Isabel said, trying to be as reassuring as possible.
Charlotte nodded and smiled although the smile did not reach her eyes.
‘I love you,’ Isabel whispered.
This time the smile reached Charlotte’s eyes.
Then they were off, Priya walking ahead leading the ponies towards the gate. The rain was even heavier now, a late afternoon monsoon. The field was beginning to turn into slick mud and Isabel found herself slipping and sliding and fighting to control the weight of the wagon pressing down behind her until she collided with Priya who turned, water dripping from her face.
‘Tiffany, you have to use the brake,’ Priya shouted.
Tiffany muttered something incomprehensible around her huge gag.
‘There,’ Priya pointed. ‘Use your foot.’
Tiffany did as she was told, extending her foot to push the wooden lever and Isabel felt the descent of the wagon slow. They reached the track, churned and muddy now, the ruts of earlier carts now filled with brown water that their boots and the wheels of the wagon splashed through. Isabel saw Priya stumble, the elaborate dress she wore heavy and sodden, and the Indian girl drew them to a halt.
‘I can’t walk like this,’ she told them. ‘Give me a moment.’
They watched as she reached behind her head, fumbling for the catch of the dress and then simply ripping it apart, the bodice tearing before she stepped out of it.
The corset underneath was a very heavy duty model and was impossibly tight, sculpting her waist and augmenting her breasts; there was a wide gusset between her legs. Isabel expected Priya to loosen it but then saw the little padlocks hanging from the laces which were clearly made of steel wire.
‘I, er, woke up like this,’ Priya said by way of explanation, her large breasts heaving beneath the heavy material, rising and falling with her rapid breathing. ‘It’s wired on.’ She looked down at the rest of her ensemble. Not sure I’m completely wedded to the idea but I think I could get into stockings,’ she said with a sly smile.
They did look good on her, white and lacy, if somewhat mud spattered now, supported by ribbons from her corset. And the corset certainly did things for her figure. Isabel couldn't help thinking that she looked like some sort of kinky superheroine but then, weren’t they all a bit kinky in their leotards and tights and boots and all that sculpted swimwear?
‘Ish there anything under thad?’ Charlotte asked suddenly.
‘Under it?’ Priya looked back at Charlotte.
‘She meansh does id have any internal componends.’ Isabel prompted aware of the internal components of her own harness and wondering how she might cope being strapped into something like that - something designed to prevent any access to her sex or even her breasts.
‘Sadly not,’ Priya said with a frown. ‘To be honest, it’s a little frustrating although I…’ She stopped herself. ‘Actually, we should be going.’
Isabel frowned, certain that there was something Priya hadn’t told them but the girl was right. They couldn’t afford to linger here if they wanted to escape.
They began to move again, Priya leading them, slipping and stumbling in the mud and the two ponies struggling to pull the heavy wagon. In the rain it was hard to see much other than the track ahead and, the the next junction, Priya stopped them to consult the map.
‘You ok?’ Isabel looked at Charlotte.
‘Anging in dhere.’
They started forward again, the road now solid beneath their boots and, mercifully, descending slowly and Tiffany now apparently in control of the break. Warmed by the exertion, Isabel found herself once more enjoying the rhythm of steps and that all too familiar feeling in her loins. When Priya guided them to a run, Isabel followed instinctively.
She didn’t know how long they ran for, there was no way to estimate the time, it was like being in a delirium; the clip-clop of their boots on the road, the splashes of puddles, the creak of the wagon, the splatter of the rein and the constant throbbing between her thighs that threatened to betray her as it had before. She did her best to suppress that need; the rainclouds had masked the late afternoon light but now it was clear night was approaching.
Despite not having the wagon to pull, Priya was struggling the most kitted out in kitten heeled boost also seeming locked on, her breathing limited by the vice-like corset but it was Charlotte who stumbled first. Isabel felt the jerk beside her and looked down to see Charlotte on her knees in the mud, her head back as she gasped for air around her bit.
‘Need a momend…’ she panted.
Isabel and Priya stopped too, grateful for the rest.
Then they heard the hooter, an old fashioned steam whistle; it may have been a trick of the light but Isabel thought she saw red lights glowing in the darkness; the lights of the steamer perhaps.
The rain seemed to be stopping.
‘Come on,’ Priya urged, stepping in to grasp Charlotte’s harness.
Charlotte nodded and allowed herself to be dragged to her feet. ‘Led’sh do id.’ She almost fell again.
They stumbled on, along the muddy road, the rain clearing to reveal a wide river delta, a dock, a white paddle steamer bearing the name ‘Freedom’ and the red glow was the sunset. A tiny crescent of red over the horizon.
‘Gome on.’ Isabel threw herself forwards trying to increase their speed, pulling against the harness.
The steamer’s whistle came again, two blasts of white smoke.
‘Dwo minudes.’
The dock was about a quarter of a mile away and Isabel could make out men on the dockside lifting hawsers as the steamer prepared to depart. She tried calling out but was too breathless. Beside her, Charlotte stumbled again but kept her feet.
A single whistle.
Two hundred yards to go.
‘We gan make id,’ Isabel hissed.
The gangway was being lifted.
‘Wait…’ Priya called, waving her arms. ‘We have tickets.’ She reached into the top of her corset and pulled out the sodden sheets of paper.
A man looked up and motioned to another. Someone called out to those on board and, above the paddle wheel a man in a blue uniform appeared on the deck, Isabel saw him take out a bronze telescope and put it to his eye, directing it at them.
There must be thirty seconds…. Isabel wished she could hear the usual disembodied voice counting down.
The man motioned for the gangway to be lowered again.
‘Yesh!’
Charlotte and Isabel put on a final spurt, stopping by the gang plank as a man - Kink - walked down it towards them.
They had done it. They had escaped!
Priya stepped up to him, her hair damp, her corset seeming even tighter, her stockings filthy and presented the tickets to him.
Isabel waited, gasping for breath as Kink seemed to take forever to check them, looking down at them and then at herself and Charlotte and Tiffany sitting up on the wagon still yoked, her breasts dripping milk.
‘Well, Professor?’ Priya asked eventually.
‘Your ticket is certainly in order, Miss Prince.’ He paused. ‘However, these are not tickets for the passage of livestock.’
‘What?’
‘I’m afraid company rules are very clear, Miss Prince, you cannot bring livestock on board without the relevant paperwork.’
‘But…’
‘The steamboat company had a stand at the fair where you could have had the tickets stamped…’
‘But…’
‘I’m sorry, Miss Prince, you are welcome to come aboard but your livestock must be stabled to await the next transport.’
‘Bsshdd,’ Tiffany growled.
Isabel glanced at Charlotte.
‘Ad leasht we ged do be bonies for a bid longer.’ The blonde said although there was a sadness in her blue eyes. ‘Beshides, maybe we’ll be shtabled dogether.’
‘I can’t leave without my friends,’ insisted Priya.
You tell him, Priya.
‘Oh, Miss Prince, I can assure you they will be taken very good care of.’ Kink leaned in towards her as if speaking in confidence although they could all hear. ‘And it will only be a temporary separation. The rules of your contract are very clear, you must all escape together.’
‘Oh.’
‘Brihga!’ Tiffany snarled through her gag. ‘Dnd u uggn dare!’
‘I will arrange for your cow to be milked too.’ Kink said. ‘To ease her discomfort.’ He glanced up at Tiffany. ‘It may calm her.’
Tiffany’s string of expletives were forceful and almost completely garbled by her gag although Isabel was able to determine the word ‘fucking’ repeated several times, ‘bastard’ was used too and there something about ripping his balls off. Isabel could hear her chains rattling and feel the wagon move as she vented her anger.
‘Please, Miss Prince, the inn here is of poor quality and I have a luxury cabin on board in which I’m more than happy to offer you accommodation.’
Isabel and Charlotte glanced at each other both aware it wasn’t the first time Kink had lead Priya off somewhere. Charlotte winked.
‘In that case, Professor, I’m more than happy to accept your offer.’ She turned towards Isabel, Charlotte and Tiffany. ‘See you later, girls.’
And with that, she took Kink’s hand and allowed him to lead her up the gangway towards the deck.