The Pumped Pony

The Pumped Pony 
by 2NN 

WARNING: This one is extreme! This story is not for minors or people who
are offended by homosexuality or extreme S&M. If you are a minor, easily
offended or not into extreme stuff, stop reading now. 

The some of the ideas behind the story come from a reader. Thanks. 

Chapter 1 
Mike and I had been lovers for about two months when he
suggested that we try playing bondage games. 

We had met at the gym where we both worked hard trying to get the
perfect body. Mike is about six feet two inches with the perfect body.
He bulges with muscles without seeming clunky or overdone. His skin is
the color of coffee with just a tiny drop of cream and he has the most
perfectly charming smile I have ever seen. It's fair to say that I was
ogling him from the minute he stepped up to the weights and started
working out. He, on the other hand, was far more casual about it. I knew
that I was good-looking and had a very nice body. I'm six feet ten
inches and I not only kept my body well muscled, but also well tanned. I
had blonde hair and my eyes are deep blue. I had no trouble finding
partners and most of them had come from the bodybuilding set. Usually I
would be the one taking the initiative but with Mike it was a little
different. I was just about to open my mouth and deliver the first
innocent line, when he preempted me: "Come around here a lot?" he asked,
seemingly not bothered by the fact that it was the most blatant pick-up
line I had heard to date. Not that it bothered me. We were alone in the
locker-room and I had been about to come on to him, so this actually
saved me the trouble and potential embarrassment. From there on things
went smoothly and after a light meal we ended up in bed. In bed I was
usually the one taking the initiative, usually being the biggest and
never having been scared of taking the lead. With Mike it was different
and after a very short and hectic bit of foreplay, I was on my knees
being fucked up the ass, only hard. Very hard. Mike's strokes were quick
and powerful and his right hand reaching around to stroke my cock made
me moan and writhe before I came. As I came, for the first time in my
life actually screaming out my orgasm, Mike gripped my hips even more
powerfully and pumped his semen into me as he came with a low groan.
It's fair to say that we hit it off straightaway. 

Not only was the sex great, but he was also a really nice guy who seemed
to like me as much as I liked him, so after no more than a week we were
practically living together. We usually stayed at his apartment. Mine
was small and cramped in a not so nice neighborhood, whereas Mike had a
penthouse apartment in the center of town. He obviously had money, but
he never talked about them or how he had come by them. Whereas he was
rich, I was almost poor. I had crummy job as a mechanic and with little
money and no close friends or family, the only thing that kept me in the
city was the fact that I didn't have to hide my sexuality here. Or at
least that was how it had been before. Now there was Mike. He was the
first one I had ever fallen in love with who seemed to reciprocate my
feelings. Life was good. 

Then after two months Mike suggested that we play some bondage games. I
knew that what he meant was that he should tie me up and not the other
way around, but that was okay. I trusted him and he obviously wanted to
try it out, so I agreed to please him, as I was only mildly curious
myself. At first it was almost vanilla. He tied me to the bedposts with
thin rope and sat on my chest as I sucked his cock. There was no doubt
that it got him off in a big way and when he went down on me afterwards
the sexy helplessness of the situation got to me too as I screamed out
my orgasm. 

Mike may have been the one who got the most out of the situation, but it
turned me on too. 

Soon we progressed to more complicated games where Mike kept me tied up
for longer periods of time, gagged me and blindfolded me and for every
little thing added Mike got off more and more powerfully. It didn't
really do much for me, but Mike's fuckings grew absolutely furious and
in that way I got something out of it too. Not that it bothered me that
it turned Mike on more than me. I loved him and wanted to see him happy,
so if this was his thing I was glad to indulge him. 

Three months after we met, I lost my job. Business was bad and the
company folded, leaving all of us without a job. This meant that my
already lousy economy collapsed and soon I couldn't even afford my
crummy apartment. Just when things were looking really bad, Mike offered
me to stay with him until I could get a new job. I gladly took the
offer, hoping it would lead to something more permanent between us. Had
I known just how permanent things would get for me, I would have run
away screaming. 

Since I was now out of a job and there were no new jobs in sight, I
stayed at Mike's place almost all the time. It turned out that so did
he. He had told me that he dealt in stocks and bonds, but what he hadn't
told me was that he did it from his own home. Our relationship entered a
new phase as Mike now drew me into longer and more complicated bondage
games where I would be tied up for most of the day, just waiting for him
to fuck me, which he did almost constantly. I spent one whole day tied
up in a kneeling position, blindfolded and sitting under his desk,
giving him one blowjob after another as he made stock deals over the
phone. At the end of that day he treated me to a whole string of
glorious orgasms, rewarding me for my service. 

In the end though I thought it was getting a little tired and I also
wanted to get a job and pay my own way. When I said this to Mike he
didn't even look disappointed, but told me that he thought getting a job
sounded good. I was glad that he wasn't too disappointed in me for
tiring of the bondage games and it was partly out of gratitude over this
that I, after some discussion, agreed to one more game. He had bought
some gear especially for this game and he desperately wanted to try it
out on me. As usual Mike got his way with me. 

For the first time he had bought a piece of dedicated bondage gear.
Before he had just used whatever was at hand, but now he had bought an
armbinder. A surprisingly small sack made of black leather. When he had
put it on me, my elbows were touching as my arms were effectively fused
from elbow to wrist. It put a great deal of strain on my shoulders and
combined with the straps crisscrossing my chest and digging into the
flesh, I was in pain for the first time during our relationship. This
was not what I had bargained for and I said: "It hurts Mike. Take it
off." When nothing happened I asked him again: "Please take it off Mike,
this isn't funny anymore." That's when things spun out of my control
forever as he stepped forward and slapped me viciously in the face, so
hard in fact that I stumbled several steps back before regaining my
balance. As I blinked in surprise he was on me in an instant. With his
right hand he grabbed my balls in a vice grip, while his left hand
closed around my throat: "Mark, you really are a useless little
slave-shit," he spat into my face and continued: "So I've decided to
keep you as such. You are not worthy of my affection, but you are so
very fuckable. So I'll keep you as my private little toy." 

I started to object but my protests were cut short as he squeezed my
balls viciously. I tried to scream, but no sound came out as my legs
gave way and I fell to the floor. Mike was quick to take advantage of
the situation and soon my legs were tied together. Then he put a broad,
black leather collar around my neck and while I was still moaning with
pain he fitted me with a strange gag. It was a ring forced into my open
mouth and keeping it wide open. It was held in place by two straps
connecting behind my head. Mike sat on my chest and smiled down at me:
"Mark, you delicious, little fucktoy, I'm going to keep you as my slave
for the rest of your worthless life. I'm going to do unmentionable
things to you, for my pleasure alone. After tying you up for the first
time, I knew that I wanted you as my slave and have been working towards
that ever since." I tried shouting for help through the gag, but he
simply showed a massive rubber plug into the hole, thereby shutting me
up. When I tried throwing him off, I found him to be both stronger and
far more ruthless than I had known. When he tired of holding me down, he
simply grabbed my balls and threatened to squeeze if I didn't lie still.
Only now did it dawn on me just how helpless I was. Not only was he in
complete control of the situation, but also he was effectively in
complete control of my life. No one knew where I was. I had no family to
come looking for me. No one to miss me. He could make me disappear
without a trace. 

Mike saw this dawning on me on my face and smiled as he continued: "No
one will come looking for you slave. I have planned this for months. I
have bought a house in the country, nice and secluded, with a huge
walled-in garden where I can play with you. I even timed your firing for
you." Seeing my surprise that he would have anything to do with me
getting sacked, he laughed and asked me: "Who do you think forced your
company into bankruptcy?" 

As I reeled with shock he took out his cock, removed the plug in my
ring-gag and fucked my face brutally and as he turned me onto my stomach
he was able to make me deep-throat him. I definitely did not like the
choking feeling of having my throat filled by his cock, but there was
little I could do. 

After he had cum, he made further preparations. First he exchanged my
ring-gag with a huge, black, jaw-wrenching ball-gag. Again I tried
resisting and again my resistance was crushed. Then he surprised me by
taking out a pair of high-heeled boots, ankle high. They were made of
hard, shiny, black plastic and they had very thin six-inch stilettos.
They didn't look like they were made to be worn by a man. "You are
right; they are not you size, but nevertheless you are going to wear
them." I tried desperately tried to object, but a couple of minutes
later, after several hard blows to my balls to keep me in line, the
boots were on my feet. They were several sizes too small and hurt my
feet terribly, but Mike seemed to like them a great deal. As a final
touch Mike produced a black, leather hood, which he sealed my head
inside. Only my nostrils were free and all sounds were distant and
muffled. 

Once the hood was on I could feel him attach a leash to my collar. Then
he released my legs and helped me to stand. Blind and bound, I was
almost completely helpless and his frequent punishments had already
taught me the necessity of obedience so I stood still. Muffled by the
hood, I could hear him chuckle at me. Then came the first blow. I was
completely unprepared and it wasn't until after the third blow that I
realized that he was using a bamboo stick to crop my ass. I tried
calling out in pain and surprise and I tried getting away from the
blows, but the gag stopped my screams and the painful and unfamiliar
footwear, combined with Mike's agility made it all impossible and after
a while I just stood still as he whipped my ass until I was crying with
pain and humiliation, my sobs clearly heard by Mike. He didn't stop
right away, but soon after hearing me cry, he forced me to my knees, my
face against the ground, grabbed my hips and began fucking me with an
intensity and fervor I had never been fucked with before. The fucking
went on and on and at some point Mike reached around and grabbed my
cock. Involuntarily I twitched as I thought he was going to squeeze my
balls again, but he surprised me by gently stroking my cock. I
definitely wasn't feeling horny or turned-on by his brutal treatment of
me, but gradually he got to me. From our time together he knew just how
to stroke me and after a while I was rock-hard and moving with the
rhythm against my will. When I came it was like no other orgasm I have
ever had. I screamed and thrashed as my cum pumped out on the floor and
not long after I felt Mike grip my hips harder as he pumped his jism
into my ass. As I lay there on the floor, my abdomen pressed down into a
puddle of my own cum, I felt very confused. There was no doubt that I
hated what Mike had done to me over the last hour or so, but at the same
time I had to admit that the orgasm had been glorious. What was Mike
turning me into? 

I had no time to ponder this question as he pulled to my feet led me
away. Walking was very painful and very hard in the impossibly small
shoes, but I had no choice but to stumble after Mike as he pulled my
leash. After a while it dawned on me that he was leading me out of the
apartment and towards the elevators. I tried resisting and calling out,
but I could produce no sound loud enough to attract attention to myself
and my struggles were swiftly punished with a couple of blows to my
crotch and I was once again reduced to an obedient little slave. We took
the elevator down to the parking basement where Mike unceremoniously
dumped me into the trunk of his car. He closed the lid and drove off
with me inside. 

I don't know exactly for how long we drove, but it must have been a few
hours before the car stopped and Mike lifted me out of the trunk and
onto a gravel driveway. With me stumbling behind him in my new footwear,
he led the way into his new house. I, of course saw precious little of
it as he led me into another elevator, which descended a couple of
floors before depositing us in the basement. When Mike removed my hood I
saw that I was in a brand new dungeon, equipped with all manner of
things to torture people with. Mike stepped up behind me, grabbed my
cock from behind and playfully kissed my shoulder as he said: "You
probably think that I'm going to keep you here as my little pain slave,
but nothing could be further from the truth." I looked surprised at him
and he answered: "No, Mark, you are only going to spend a few days down
here so I can play with you a little before I send you off to the
doctor." Now I was really alarmed. "Yes, there are some rather drastic
changes in store for you before you can assume the role I have in mind
for you. But don't worry. I'm sure you'll grow to love it. And if you
don't, well, I can live with that too." I stood completely still,
shocked and puzzled at the same time. What was the doctor going to do to
me? What drastic changes was he going to perform on me? At the same time
I wondered at the dungeon. It didn't make any sense. Why have the huge
dungeon, if you're not going to keep your slave in it? 

Again he read my mind and said: "The dungeon is not for you, but I have
acquired a taste for slaves and I intend to get some more. That is what
this dungeon is built for. As for the changes the doctor is going to do
to you, you'll just have to find out. For now I think you need a little
practice in walking in your new footwear, so let's get started." With
that he started a most painful training session at the end of which I
walked in my new stilettos almost as sexily as a seasoned whore. My
whole body was covered in angry, red welts and I was whimpering with
pain and fear and a small trickle of semen was running down the inside
of my leg from all the times Mike had stopped the training to fuck me.
Only I didn't think of him as "Mike" anymore. Now I thought of him as
"Master" as he had taught me during the long hours of training and
punishment. 

The day's training ended with Master demonstrating how much in control
he was and to what extent he had broken me. I didn't dawn on me later
that that was what he was doing and when it did dawn on me, I cried in
defeat. When the training session was over Master commanded me to kneel,
which I did without hesitation. Then he removed my gag and ordered me to
blow him. I did this just as he had instructed me to, looking up at him
with begging eyes as I sucked his cock, never breaking eye contact. I
didn't even think of resisting, much less of biting him. Only later,
when I lay in the cage he had locked me into, I realized how docile I
had become in just under a day and I cried with shame and defeat. My
shame and defeat was compounded by how he had locked me into the cage.
Master had gagged me again before showing a monster dildo up my ass and
telling me that I would be severely punished if I lost it during the
night. Then he pulled the hood over my head and threw me into an
impossibly small cage. The cage was so small that even with my legs
pulled up under my body I could not lie down, but had to sleep
half-sitting against the bars of the cage. 

As I sat there Master had one final surprise for me. Before closing the
door he reached into the cage and gave me a handjob. To my great
surprise I not only got hard very quickly, but I had a fantastic orgasm.
I felt very confused as Master closed the door and I was left alone, my
own sticky cum drying on my skin. 

Chapter 2 
After a night filled with discomfort and nightmares I woke up
feeling battered, bruised and humiliated. My ass was still packed to the
bursting point with the monster dildo Master had forced into me the
night before and my abdomen was covered in crusts of my own semen. But
this morning a little determination returned to me and I decided to try
to break free when the first opportunity arose. Unfortunately Master had
anticipated this. I felt the cage being unlocked and I was pulled out to
lie on the floor. Then my hood was removed and as I blinked against the
light I could see Master smile down at me, a vicious, evil smile. With
speaking a word he grabbed my cock and held the tip of it just inside a
plastic bottle. Then he looked at me and said: "Piss." There was no
mistaking the order and I did need to relieve myself, so I gladly let go
and soon the container was filled with my urine. Master then screwed a
lid on the bottle and went to fetch another bottle, this one filled with
a whitish liquid that looked quite disgusting. He propped me up against
the side of the cage in a sitting position, removed my gag and said:
"Drink your breakfast, slave. If you spill a single drop I'll whip your
balls until the turn purple." To make sure I understood, he lightly
squeezed my balls before raising the open bottle to my lips. The liquid
smelled disgusting and was had a revoltingly thick texture, but I saw no
other option than to drink it. Master poured it quickly down my throat
and soon I was out of breath, gagging from the revolting liquid, the
bottle empty. Master patted my head condescendingly and said: "Good
little slave." 

He now stood up and went to fetch something. Meanwhile I was looking
desperately for an opening, finding none. Not only was I securely bound,
but also my arms were beginning to feel numb from their long and
unpleasant confinement. 

Presently Master returned with a large box and some wiring. He knelt
down in front of me, grabbed my chin in his hand and stared me straight
in the eye and said: "Now you filthy, useless, little slave shit, I know
that all you have been thinking about is how the escape." I tried to
shake my head in denial and say "no", but he would have none of as he
shut me up by continuing: "To make sure that you understand that there
is no escape for you and to show you a small taste of how badly you will
be punished if you should try, I have brought these." He held up two
wires, each with a vicious looking alligator clamp at the end. He then
lifted up my cock and closed the jaws of the clamps around my balls. The
pain was excruciating and in seconds I was screaming for mercy, begging
him to take them off. Of course he did no such thing, but rather he
turned a knob on the box to which the wires were connected and instantly
electrical current coursed through my balls. 

The pain was the worst I had ever experienced and I thrashed around as I
desperately tried to get away from the pain, not even being able to
scream. Had my ass not been plugged and had I not just emptied my
bladder, I would have been rolling around in my own waste. Finally he
eased the current off slightly and I was able to at least scream
properly. The screaming was followed by begging and after a long period
of desperate begging where I promised that I would do anything for him
and that I was his slave, Master finally turned the current off. Further
humiliating myself I actually cried with gratitude as I babbled my
thanks out to this cruel man who had made me his slave. 

When my babbling had subsided Master looked down at me and said: "Of
course you are my slave, and of course you will do anything for me. This
was nothing. If I have to punish you for real, I'll really crank up the
power and then you'll be in real pain, not this vanilla shit. Now open
your mouth wide, point it straight up and be sure not to spill a single
drop. Otherwise I'll have to show you just how painful it can get."
Without even the slightest hesitation I opened my mouth and pointed it
upwards. It was only when he took out his member and stood with his legs
spread wide over me that I realized what was about to happen. I cried
desperately as the first drops of his urine landed in my mouth, but I
didn't dare close it. Humiliated and defeated beyond my worst nightmares
I swallowed all of Master's salty and revolting piss, not spilling a
single drop. I was crying openly when he zipped up his fly and he
laughed at my defeat. But it didn't end there. He knelt down beside me
and took out the bottle of urine I had filled just a few minutes
earlier. He unscrewed the lid and held it to my lips and said:
"Remember: don't spill a fucking drop." Then he tilted the bottle and I
was forced to drink my own piss, again crying with humiliation and in
disgust. 

Satisfied that I hadn't spilled a single drop of my disgusting
"breakfast", Master released my legs and helped me stand. Attaching a
leash to my collar, he then led me to another part of the dungeon,
looking like a large, open bathroom with a tile-covered floor with a
drain in the center. From the ceiling hung a heavy chain with a pair of
thick, rubber cuffs. 

Master nodded at the cuffs and said: "In a few minutes you are going to
be dangling by your wrists from those. You'll probably be thinking about
escape when I release your hands. Don't. It'll be so painful you can't
even imagine." To punctuate his words he lightly gasped my very tender
balls, causing me to emit a frightened and almost girlish scream as I
started with fear. The electrical torture had convinced me that
obedience was the only way for now. Already I was terrified of Master. 

As it turned out I wouldn't have been able to put up a real fight even
if I had had the courage. When Master removed my armbinder, my arms were
so numb I was scarcely able to pull them away from my body. They were
completely useless as Master cuffed my wrists and used a winch to first
raise my arms above my head and then lift me off my feet. When my feet
in their painful stilettos were dangling a few inches off the floor,
Master stopped the winch. Already my wrists and shoulders were hurting
from the strain, but I already suspected that it was nothing compared to
what was about to come. 

First Master used sturdy rubber straps to secure my legs spread wide
apart. Then he placed a low stool in front of me, stepped up on it and
cut my hair in a thin Mohawk. When finished he put a piece of plastic
over the Mohawk, leaving the rest of my scalp free. Before I could even
muster the courage to ask what was going to happen, he gagged me with
the large ball-gag and taped my eyes shut and taped my eyebrows over.
Still without speaking he began lathering me up with some ice-cold goo
that smelled absolutely revolting. When my whole body, including the
inner reaches of my ass-crack, had been covered with this goo Master
left me there. After a little while it began to first itch, then burn.
After a couple of minutes it felt like my skin was being burned off ever
so slowly. Master of course did nothing to alleviate my pain and just
left me twisting and thrashing with pain. Only after a good long while
did he rinse the goo off using a cold, hard spray of water. Even if the
water was cold and Master was none too gentle with it, I was enormously
relieved when the goo was gone. 

Then Master removed the tape over my eyes and over my eyebrows, just as
he removed the plastic covering my new Mohawk haircut. As I looked down
my body I realized what the goo had accomplished. Except for the areas,
which had been covered I was now completely smooth and hairless and I
have remained so ever since. 

After inspecting my body and making sure that I was indeed completely
hairless, Master lowered me to the ground and after again warning me
about the consequences of disobedience, he retied my arms in the
armbinder, reattached my collar and leash and forced me to lie flat on
my back so that I rested painfully on my bound arms. Then he fucked me.
It didn't matter that I hated him and hated what he was doing to me, it
didn't matter that I was in pain, both from earlier punishments and from
lying on my arms, it was still one of the most glorious fucks of my
entire life. Master fucked me like a bitch, missionary style and as his
pace picked up, so did his expert stroking of my cock. Soon I was moving
involuntarily with the rhythm, writhing in ecstasy and moaning with
pleasure. The fucking was so good and so long that I actually managed to
cum twice before Master came. When I had shot my load the first time,
Master simply continued his relentless stroking and soon I was hard
again, ready to shoot my load again as Master shot his into my ass. 

Afterwards I lay on my bound arms scarcely noticing the pain as I
thought for the first time, that I might actually enjoy being Master's
slave. The thought was new and alien to me and I was about to reject it
altogether when Master spoke: "Give up Mark. You are a natural slave and
you want to be owned and controlled. Why else would you react as you
just did? The only reason that our earlier games didn't get you off
big-time, is that they were too vanilla. Admit to yourself that you love
being owned, controlled, humiliated, punished and fucked. There is
nothing you can do to prevent the fact that you are going to be a slave
for the rest of your life, so you might as well enjoy it." 

I lay completely still, in shock, shaking my head weakly, after hearing
Master's words. There was no doubt that he at least had a point, and I
had to fight myself so as not to admit that he might be absolutely right
in his assessment of me. Lying flat and docile on my back, my own cum
covering my chest and abdomen, drying slowly, it was hard to deny that I
enjoyed it. As he had said: why else had I reacted in this way? Master
laughed at my apparent confusion, but labored no more over it. Instead
he pulled me to my feet and led me to another part of the dungeon for
more games. 

Master played with me for two more days before sending me to the doctor.
By the time he took me to the doctor, my resistance was practically
gone, punished out of me and replaced with the firm conviction on my
part that I would never escape Master, as had no doubt been his plan. 

On the first day he had left me unsupervised and left the dungeon and I
had seized the opportunity and made a run for it. I had gotten all the
way into the hallway before he caught me and dragged me back into the
dungeon. I was still tied up with the armbinder and gagged with a
ball-gag, wearing my stiletto boots so I could offer no real resistance
as he dragged down the stairs and strapped me to a table, my legs spread
wide as I lay on my back. Master focused his punishment on my genitals,
bringing the alligator clamps into action and shocking my balls and cock
furiously. It turned out that he had not been exaggerating earlier when
he had said that the power could be turned up and that I hadn't tried
being punished for real with this machine. I couldn't even scream
properly as I thrashed helplessly, instantly loosing control over my
bladder and bowels, soiling the table and myself. The pain was
unbelievable and in the end I passed out. I woke up when Master put
smelling salt under my nose. Believing it was over I tried pleading
behind my gag, but Master paid me no heed as he again applied the
current, sending me into new round of helpless thrashing until I passed
out and he had to wake me using smelling salt. Three more times he did
this until I was reduced to a quivering, babbling wreck that would do
anything to avoid being punished again. Seemingly accepting my pleas, he
untied me and helped me stand on very insecure legs before commanding me
to demonstrate my obedience to him. He pointed at the table, now covered
as I was, in shit and piss and said: "Clean it up." I knew he meant that
I should clean it with my mouth and I began to cry with humiliation and
disgust, but I didn't hesitate for a second. Wanting at all costs to
avoid more electrical punishment I dutifully licked the table clean, ate
my own shit and drank my own urine. 

I couldn't believe how low I had sunk and I hated what Master had made
me do, but as I stood there sobbing he proved once again to me what a
useless slave shit I was. He pushed me over so that I lay across the
table I had just cleaned and fucked me hard from behind. As before he
easily made me cum with his expert stroking, in spite of the fact that I
had never been so humiliated and disgusted in my entire life. 

The next day he again left me unsupervised as he went to get something
upstairs. This time I was very wary and I waited a long time before I
finally gathered the courage needed to run up the stairs and into the
hall. Master was nowhere to be seen and I began to feel hope as I
approached the front door. This was as far as I had gotten the day
before, but this time I managed to open the door without anyone stopping
me and suddenly I was outside. I was only wearing my stilettos, my
collar and my armbinder and was thus ungagged and as I got closer and
closer to the gate, now running in a very delicate and almost feminine
manner because of the stilettos, I began to hope for escape. If I could
just make it into the street I would be able to call out and be rescued.
The gate opened without trouble and suddenly I had escaped! I ran down
the street until I met someone and instantly I started to ask for help,
begging and pleading for him to release me and call the police. 

The man was a fit-looking gentleman in his mid-fifties who was walking
his big, black dog. He held it's leash as it did it's thing in some
bushes by the side of the road. He looked quite shocked and when I
finally stopped babbling he said: "Right. Let's get this fixed." I
breathed a sigh of relief. Finally I would be free from Master's
clutches. My good feeling evaporated as the man took a firm hold of my
balls instead of releasing me, while at the same time yanking viciously
on the leash as he said: "Come on Pooch." As his dog emerged from the
bushes I saw that I had been mistaken. The man was not walking his dog,
but a rubber-bound slave boy. His forearms had been fused to his upper
arms as his calves had been fused to his thighs and his entire body,
except for openings at his crotch, eyes, nose and mouth, was imprisoned
in thick, black rubber. His cock had been pierced through the head, a
very thick Prince Albert inserted in the hole. To the Prince Albert a
quite large lead weight had been attached, pulling his cock down most
painfully. He had also been pierced through the tongue and from rod
through this piercing another lead weight dangled, making sure that he
couldn't pull his tongue back into his mouth. The man's eyes looked
absolutely desperate and he was constantly emitting a series of small,
out of breath screams. 

With an embarrassingly girlish scream I realized that I would not be
rescued by this man, more like the opposite. I tried pleading and
begging, but the man wouldn't hear me and instead dragged both his
doggy-slave and me towards Master's house. I was sobbing helplessly as
he led me to the front door and rang the bell. 

After a minute or so Master answered the door, glanced very briefly at
me and said to the man: "Thank you ever so much Mr. Wilkins. I was
beginning to get worried." The two exchanged small talk while the doggy
and I stood whimpering, not daring to interrupt. Pointing to the
rubberized doggy Master asked: "How is your nephew coming along?" Mr.
Wilkins smiled as he looked down and answered: "Oh, fine I guess. The
little shit has finally been made to understand that his dad and the
rest of the family regarded him as nothing more than a disgusting little
leech just waiting for his inheritance, and as such were perfectly
within their right when they decided that he should spend the rest of
his life as a slave. Isn't that right, slave?" The doggy nodded
fearfully as he made some agreeing noises and the man continued: "He
has, however, been a little slow accepting that part of his duties as a
doggy-slave is getting fucked by a great deal of men. But it's not
really a problem. It's just a matter of making sure that he gets fucked
enough." 

They continued talking for a little while longer as I stood trembling
with fear. When the conversation ended and Master led me into the
dungeon I started begging and pleading, but he just ignored me as he
once again strapped me to the punishment table and applied the alligator
clamps. This time he shocked me even harder, for much longer and many
more times and when it was over I scarcely had the energy to even
tremble as I lay in my own waste, begging for forgiveness. Just like the
day before he made me clean up my own mess, but then he took it further.
He made me kneel right behind his ass, my face turned up and my mouth
open. Knowing that disobedience was out of the question I then swallowed
everything Master put into my mouth as he took a dump in it. 

It was undoubtedly the most disgusting and humiliating thing I have ever
done and it broke me, robbing me of all my courage and will to resist. I
have never since tried to escape and have since always tried to obey
every command given to me. Master has never since put shit in my mouth
and I think he only did it to make me understand my place. I am almost
certain that Master arranged both of escapes, with the single purpose of
breaking me. 

Chapter 3 
The next day Master gagged me and hooded me, tied my legs
together and threw me into the trunk of his car. My arms were still in
the armbinder and my feet still clad in stiletto boots. For my part
almost all resistance was gone and I was completely docile as he took me
out of the trunk again after a very long drive. He led me into a
building and then into an office where he removed my hood. It was a
doctor's office and I stood docilely by as Master greeted the doctor and
sat down opposite his desk. Then the two began talking about how Master
still wanted the surgery performed on me he had specified earlier.
Master assured the doctor that was indeed what he wanted. After a bit of
small talk, they stood and Master left after shaking hands with the
doctor. 

After Master had left the doctor, who looked perfectly ordinary, looked
me over and felt me up before calling for a nurse. The nurse scampered
fearfully into the room, curtseyed in front of the doctor and said:
"Yes, doctor?" The nurse was a slave boy of about twenty-five and his
body was completely covered in shiny, white rubber. Only his bald head,
his ass, which was securely plugged with a huge, white butt-plug and his
genitals were left free, even his hands were covered in white rubber
that was part of the suit. On his feet were shiny, white stiletto boots
made from plastic, with seven-inch stilettos. His head was completely
hairless, devoid of even eyebrows and as he spoke I could see that he
had no teeth at all, giving him a slight lisp when he spoke. His cock
was imprisoned inside an impossibly small chastity tube and was leaking
a steady amount of pre-cum. As he approached the doctor he cast his eyes
fearfully down and it was obvious that he was terrified of him. "Take
this slave to the OR and prepare him. The operation will start in an
hour." The doctor said. The slave nurse curtseyed before leading me by
my cock to the operating room. What little resistance was left in me
came to the surface now, but even this enslaved rubber nurse had no
trouble controlling me. A good grip on my balls and hard twist ensured
my immediate compliance with all orders and soon I was lying strapped to
the operating table. Once again my arms had been all but useless from
their long confinement inside the armbinder. 

As I lay there waiting for the doctor one more nurse arrived. He looked
exactly like the ones who had met me in the doctor's office: completely
hairless, completely toothless with a hot and slender body covered in
shiny, white rubber. By way of greeting the two nurses kissed
passionately. Then one of them, the latest arrival, went to get
something at a nearby table while the other one ever so gently grabbed
my cock. Slowly he began manipulating it and when I was hard as well as
breathing hard, he took me into his mouth. The feeling of a
smooth-gummed mouth with a very talented tongue drove me absolutely wild
in a matter of seconds and soon I was trying desperately to thrust my
hips; trying anything to hasten the process so that I could cum. 

But the little, shiny rubber nurse was a real expert. Every time I was
just about to cum, he held back. Soon I was begging, but he just smiled
sweetly at me, still denying me my orgasm. Finally the other nurse
joined him at the table and after nodding in agreement to each other, my
tormentor sucked the juice out of me in a glorious orgasm, making me
scream with pleasure. Just as I came the other one sank a needle in my
arm and a few seconds later I lost consciousness. 

When I woke up I felt terribly weak. I felt like my eyelids had been
glued shut and only with a great deal of effort was I able to open them.
As my vision cleared and I was once more able to see my surroundings, I
saw that I was in a hospital bed, covered in a sheet. For a long time
this was all I noticed. Slowly I gathered my wits about me and started
taking stock of the situation. I knew that I had been through surgery,
so the question was what had been done to me. I started by trying to
wriggle my toes and found out that I had practically no movement left in
either my toes or my feet. Nor in my ankles for that matter. I could
still feel the foot, but it felt far off and very stiff, like it was
sleeping. My feet, as well as the rest of my body was covered with a
sheet and as I tried shaking it off I found out that I was strapped to
my bed and unable to do so. No surprise here. So I would just have to
wait and see. 

As I moved on I soon found out something else; a discovery that made me
scream. I had no arms! Where my arms had been were now heavy bandages,
but it was quite clear that there was no room for my arms underneath
these. My arms had been removed! I screamed in shock and after a little
while a rubber nurse came scampering into the room. He checked that I
was all right; at least in the physical sense of the word, he then
pressed a button on the wall and sat down on the bed next to me. He
stroked my cheek and said some comforting noises and I started sobbing
instead of screaming. 

After a few minutes the doctor arrived. He looked at me with eyes filled
with sadistic delight and he was obviously enjoying himself. So much so
that the first thing he did, even before examining me, was to order the
little rubber nurse to blow him. Standing next to my bed and obviously
deriving pleasure from seeing me like that, he had the lithe,
rubber-clad young man kneel before him and give him head. 

When he had shot his load, he once again turned his attention to me.
First he checked the bandages on my shoulders where my arms should have
been. Then he had me open my mouth. I was much too shocked to resist and
when his fingers entered my mouth I got a new nasty surprise: like the
nurses all my teeth were gone. I was just too much. Now even my sobbing
stopped as I sat in stunned silence. 

The doctor's examination of me continued and he now lifted the sheet
away from the upper part of my body. As he removed it all the way down
to my waist I saw that my lower back was bandaged too and that I was not
lying flat on my back, but rather sitting up, propped up against some
pillows. After inspecting these bandages and apparently finding their
condition satisfactory, he removed the sheet altogether and I saw why my
feet had felt so stiff. On my feet were now black, plastic boots
effectively turning my feet into hooves. My foot is now almost
completely in line with my leg and all my weight is supported on my
toes, which have been bent back and now rest on the tiny platforms that
I walk on. The platforms are not big enough for all my toes, but that
didn't stop the doctor. He simply removed all my toes nails and crushed
my toes so that he could set them in any shape he desired. Then he used
a steel band to secure them permanently to the tiny platforms, which are
just like the platforms used in women's platform shoes, only much
smaller and much higher, almost five inches high with a ridiculously
small horseshoe as a sole. Also my "shoes" have no heels, forcing me to
support all my weight on those tiny, precarious platforms. The shoes are
really boots since they extend up to mid-calf and they look like a
caricature of a horse's hoof. The cover of my boots comes off from time
to time so that my feet can be cleaned, but my feet remain welded to the
platform permanently. They never come off. 

As I looked down my body in shock I also noticed that I had trouble
looking all the way down, just I had trouble turning my head all the way
to the side. It was like my head was tilted a little backwards and now
couldn't come all the way down anymore. 

At the time I was in complete shock and didn't realize that Master
wanted me as his pony boy. I just sat there completely shocked as to why
these changes had been made to me and to what end. 

After a few more minutes of inspection, the doctor seemed satisfied and
left. Just before leaving he nodded to the nurse, who curtseyed deeply
in return. When the doctor had left the room, the slave nurse's
attention turned to me. Wasting not a second, he leaned in over me and
took me in his mouth. As before I should have been too shocked and too
revolted for anything to happen, but as I was starting to learn, my
natural submissiveness always got the better of me. Soon I was
involuntarily moaning with pleasure and after a few minutes I came. 

Shock doesn't even begin to describe my feeling at this apparent
betrayal by my own body. There was no way I should react like this! I
should hate it. I should object and try to push the nurse away. But as
he started to blow me again, I had no objection, no protest and no
movements to discourage him. Instead my first and only thought when his
soft lips closed around my cock was: "Please get me off. Your mouth is
sooo good." 

The slave boy/rubber nurse left me three orgasms later. As the door
closed behind him I sat in stunned silence. The drastic physical changes
were slowly sinking in, making me depressed as they effectively robbed
of any other future than that of a slave. But also I was feeling
increasingly confused at my own reaction. Or perhaps "confused" is the
wrong word, since it was quite clear what was happening: I was adjusting
very rapidly to the fact that I was now a slave, a mere toy for Master -
and I liked it! The more I thought about it, the more Master's words
about how I didn't go for vanilla, but rather had to be subjected to
extremely brutal and demeaning things to get off, rang true. 

Only I didn't want to believe it. I told myself that I was a strong and
independent man and that I didn't want to live out my life as someone
else's property. But the more I repeated this to myself, the more hollow
it sounded. 

The couple of weeks passed in a haze of confused orgasms while I quickly
healed. Three times a day I was fed and watered by a nurse, who stuck a
great, big tube down my throat and pumped me full of food and water in
an operation that took all of twenty seconds from the time I opened my
mouth to accommodate the tube, to the time I closed it after the tube
had been retracted. Before, during and after the feeding another nurse
would suck my cock, bringing me to new heights of sexual pleasure. The
routine was two orgasms before the feeding and three after. With three
feedings a day that meant that I had at least fifteen orgasms a day
during this period. "At least", because I was usually woken up by a
gentle blow-job or two, just as it was customary for a lithe, little
rubber nurse envelop my cock with his talented mouth just before putting
a hood over my head and letting me sleep. I quickly became completely
enamored with the nurses, but all my attempts to tell them how grateful
I was, and indeed all my attempts to speak, were dealt with in the most
brutal manner, usually by beating my genitals. It seemed that silence
was the order of the day, so I simply sat there all day long, healing
while I grunted, moaned and screamed with delight. 

After almost three weeks Master came to see me and I was finally allowed
out of bed. I had told myself that I should hate him for what he had
done to me, but instead I found myself wanting desperately to beg him to
fuck me. However, I didn't get around to begging him as he signaled that
I should shut up even before I opened my mouth. 

Finally after all that time in bed I was allowed to stand up and the
pieces of the puzzle came together and I realized just what I had been
transformed into. As I stood on insecure legs, I noticed that I couldn't
stand up straight, but rather had to bend forward at the hip and hold my
upper body at an angle to the ground. The reason for my stiff neck
became apparent as it made me look straight ahead now that my upper body
was angled. As my new footwear touched the ground, making me wince with
pain from the confinement of my toes, and I saw how much they looked
like hooves, I realized that the reason for all this surgery was to
transform me into a pony boy. And not only that. Master had transformed
me into a pony whose back he could ride on. I was bent over so that
Master could ride my back. 

The realization hit me like a sledgehammer of shock and delicious
humiliation. Although I was loath to admit it, the thought of being
Master's pony made me hard. Not that that had to mean anything. After
three weeks in the care of the dirty, little rubber slave boys just
about anything was a turn-on for me. 

I tried telling some of this to Master, but as the first sound left my
mouth he kneed me furiously in the groin. The pain was excruciating and
if he hadn't held me, I would have fallen: "You are a horse now, Mark,
and any attempt to speak or behave the tiniest bit human will result in
severe punishment. Horses don't speak, they whinny. Understood?" I
realized that Master would take this all the way and that he was dead
serious, so to acknowledge my understanding I tried my best to behave
horse-like and I tossed my head and whinnied. "Needs improvement," was
all he said, but he didn't punish me, so apparently he was satisfied,
for now at least. "I considered giving you a more horse-like name, like
Tan-Tan, but decided against it. Maybe when I get more ponies their
names will be like that, but since you are my first acquisition I'll let
you keep your name." I stood staring at him, not knowing whether to
scream with desperation or express my gratitude for a letting me keep my
name. More and more it was sinking in that this would be permanent, that
there would be no escape, not even to a less demanding or more
"human-like" form of slavery. Master intended to keep me as a pony for a
long, long time. His next words further cemented this fact: "You may
keep your name, but always remember that you are a pony and will remain
so for the rest of your useless life. Any behavior that is not
pony-like, any at all, will be punished most severely." I almost nodded
to signal my understanding, but at the last second I managed to toss my
head and make a whinnying noise. Master seemed pleased and amused at
this and he stepped very close to me, stroking my thigh as his eyes
roamed my defenseless body. I had been eight inches taller than Master
to begin with and now that I had been fitted with my new pony-boots,
forcing me to walk on my toes while standing on five-inch high
platforms, so even with the stoop my back had acquired I now towered
about foot above him. Yet there was no doubt as to who was in control.
His mere presence made me feel inferior and defenseless. 

My obvious helplessness and submissiveness turned Master on and in short
order me had thrown my upper body across the bed and was spreading my
butt-cheeks. As he took me from behind with long, hard strokes, pumping
in and out of my ass and his hand grasping my already throbbing member,
I realized how much I had missed this during the weeks I had spent in
bed being blown by the shameless, little rubber nurses. The feeling of
once again having my ass filled to the bursting point while submitting
completely to Master, turned me on more than I had imagined and in no
time I was screaming and thrashing as my cum pumped down on the floor
and when Master not long after filled my ass with his hot cum I was as
happy as I could ever remember being. I should have been angry and
scared since my life had effectively been taken away by this cruel man
who now controlled every aspect of my existence, but instead I was
reveling in my submission, realizing that not only was I completely
powerless to prevent him from doing whatever he wanted to me, I also
loved being controlled in this manner, loved being property. 

While I lay there enjoying the afterglow of the orgasm, Master pulled
out and snapped his fingers at the little nurse who had been standing by
watching enviously from the corner as Master had fucked me. He quickly
scampered over to me and following Master's instructions he turned what
little hair I had left into a braided mane along the center of my head.
Then Master pulled me to my feet and fitted me with a few more items
befitting a pony. First he put a very broad and very stiff black collar
around my neck, further restricting my head movements. Then he equipped
me with a head harness with blinkers cutting off my peripheral vision
and a steel bit, complete with a set of reins, that forced my mouth
open. Finally he tied a leather leash around my scrotum. 

Picking up a riding crop he said: "Ponies don't walk, they high step."
With a slap on my ass I was sent on my way trying as best I could to
high step all the time. This was much harder than I had imagined now
that I had to walk bent over forwards all the time and had to walk on
the tips of my toes on tiny platforms, but I had little choice. As
Master's first painfully correcting blows landed on my ass, it dawned on
me that I would be walking like this for the rest of my life, a thought
that filled with a by now familiar feeling of despair mixed with
submissive lust. 

As we made our way out of the clinic, passing little, demure, slave
nurses as well as regular employees, my humiliation grew with every
step. Master's cum was leaking out of my ass and running down my leg and
my own cum smeared over my cock by Master's stroking hand, was drying on
the shaft of my embarrassingly erect cock. The humiliation did nothing
to dampen my lust and soon my cock was twitching with lust. My face
burned with shame as the people we passed all shared secret looks and
whispers as they pointed at me and snickered. I just wanted to disappear
so great was my humiliation, but this same humiliation insured that I
was now actually approaching the point where I would cum, just from of
exposed shame. Master heard my breathing getting ragged and turned
around: "Look at you: just a worthless, little pony slave that gets off
on people watching. That's just pathetic." That did it. With a scream
muffled slightly by my new bit I came. My whole body shook, but I
managed to stay on my feet as my body convulsed with a powerful orgasm.
My shame knew no bounds as Master shook his head and sighed with disgust
and I tried looking down to avoid his gaze. My stiff neck and collar
insured that I didn't have much success, but I did manage to see one of
the little nurses scamper over to lick the floor clean. 

Finally Master led me out of the building, but by now a small crowd had
gathered, all pointing at me and laughing derisively. Although I had
just cum this excited me so that by the time we reached Master's car I
was once again hard. I was amazed at my own libido. Was I really that
submissive? 

At Master's car I got a surprise. I had expected to be hooded and to
have my legs tied together before being thrown into the trunk of his car
for the trip home. However, Master had apparently decided to take his
new role as a horse owner seriously and had purchased a closed trailer
to transport real horses in. I high stepped rather ineptly up the ramp
and onto the hay-covered floor of the trailer. Once inside Master tied
my reins to a ring in the wall and the leash in my scrotum to a ring in
the floor. I had wondered why he used both the reins and the leash and
my guess was that he liked having my balls under complete control.
Master left me standing there and as the door closed behind me and the
trailer set in motion I was left with my thoughts. 

I was confused. My life was now in the hands of a man who would probably
abuse, humiliate and even torture me until I did everything he told me
to. And it was far from certain that he would stop there. In all
likelihood he would also abuse and torture me for sport, just because it
pleased him. Unless someone, and I really couldn't see who this should
be, came and rescued me I would probably belong to him for the rest of
my life. Either that or he would sell me to someone else. It was also
very likely that as a slave, someone who existed only to provide sexual
pleasure for others, my life would not only be painful but also short.
Who would want a sixty or even fifty year old slave? By kidnapping me
and subjecting me to extreme surgery Master had also effectively
signaled that he would stop at nothing. I was twenty-five and I had
trouble seeing Master keeping a slave past his fortieth birthday, or
perhaps even his mid-thirties. 

On the other hand there was the question of what I would do if I were
rescued. What would I do? I was armless, toothless and my back and neck
had been subjected to surgery that was quite possibly irreversible and
my feet and toes had been smashed. I had never been very smart and had
always been best at using my hands, not my head. If someone saved me
from a life as a slave, I would most likely spend the rest of my life in
an institution. 

The choice stood between two hopeless existences, but in reality there
was no choice. No one would come to my rescue. Master had already proven
that his attention to detail was extreme and I had no doubt that I had
already been reported dead and that no one, absolutely no one, would be
looking for me. 

So my confusion didn't really come from this apparent choice. Instead it
came from the fact that the prospect of being Master's pony boy excited
me more than I would ever be able to express. The prospect of being
completely and utterly controlled, of being subjected to extreme torture
and intense humiliation for the rest of my life turned me on. Even if it
meant that my life would be very short and almost certainly very painful
it turned me on. In fact as I stood there in the moving trailer, being
driven off to this harsh life of constant servitude, a new and extremely
exciting thought entered my mind. With my cock again growing needy,
throbbing and very hard, I fantasized about being fucked to death by
Master. I fantasized about Master fucking me again and again, his giant
cock pounding both my openings until I was screaming in pain, fucking me
until my insides were reduced to a pulp by his constantly pumping member
and I died impaled on this, the most magnificent of cocks, screaming out
my love for my beautiful Master. My fantasy was so powerful that it made
me cum. Screaming and thrashing as much as my bonds would allow I pumped
my semen out over the hay-covered floor. 

This was the source of my confusion: how had I gone from being a strong
and independent guy who was occasionally tied up in mild bondage games
to being a complete slave, someone who fantasized about being fucked to
death by his Master? Before Master had brought me to the clinic I had
never had any fantasies about being enslaved, but now they were the only
fantasies I had and they were so powerful that I had trouble thinking
about anything else. How could Master have seen this in me when I didn't
even know myself? I tried telling myself that I had been brainwashed
during my stay at the hospital, but that wasn't true. The only
conditioning that had happened there was the constant attention of the
dirty, little rubber nurses and that surely wasn't enough to turn me
into a complete slave. I tried turning it over in my head; tried finding
some explanation for my almost complete transformation but I came up
empty every time. In the end I had to accept that Master had seen me for
what I really was and acted on it, turning me into the armless,
toothless, stooped over pony freak I was now. I should be mad at Master,
I should hate him but instead I loved him. As I stood in the trailer, my
mind still filled with lingering images of being fucked to death and my
cock again growing hard, I was filled with a deep sense of love and
gratitude towards Master. And as I stood there in the trailer, the hours
ticking away, I fantasized about Master riding me, riding me hard,
whipping me furiously to drive me forward and my confusion and doubt
melted away in soft fantasies of harsh slavery, brutal fuckings and
extreme and protracted torture sessions. When Master opened the door my
cock was again twitching with need and I no longer had any doubts. I
belonged to Master and there was nothing I would rather do than live a
short, harsh and painful life as his pony-slave. 

Chapter 4 
Master looked at the mess I had made on the floor, on my
twitching cock and smiled to himself. Seeing this cruel man that had
fuelled my fantasies so I decided to disobey his command that I stop
behaving human in the slightest way. The words came out garbled, but
clear enough: "Master, please Master. I love you Master. Abuse me,
torture me, and turn me into your plaything. I am yours." Master smiled
briefly and patted my head. Then he said: "You are a pony now Mark. I
will do all of those things to you and more. I promise you I'll make you
scream in pain and turn you into my complete plaything. I promise to
make your life harsher and more demanding than you can ever imagine and
to control every second of your life, but now it is time to give up your
humanity, Mark. You are a pony, my pony and you will behave as such."
With that he put a cattle prod to my scrotum and shocked my balls. The
pain was so bad that I couldn't even scream. My face contorted in a
silent scream and I collapsed to the floor, trying to make my muscles
obey so that I could at least writhe in pain. 

Master took advantage of the situation and dropped to his knees in front
of me and removed my bit. Then he took out his beautiful cock and fucked
my face. Holding my head with both hands he fucked my face long and
hard, making me deep-throat him on every stroke. Several times he held
my face pressed against his crotch, his cock all the way down my throat,
until all I had left was weak twitching and black dots appeared before
my eyes as I was certain that I was going to die choking on his cock.
This was what I had fantasized about and in spite of the excruciating
pain from my balls I felt my cock stirring. When he had shot his load
down my throat, he pulled his cock out, reinserted my bit and stood up.
Then he got a riding crop and began whipping my body furiously shouting:
"Get up you useless pony shit!" I was still reeling from the shock to my
balls and from my own feelings of extreme submission from the face
fucking and I had never in my life before tried getting up without the
use of my hands and arms. The process was made even more difficult
because of my new footwear, forcing me to balance on my toes on the tiny
platforms now welded to them. Getting up was very hard and I fell
several times, but this did nothing to stop Master. He whipped me
constantly while I tried to get up, shouting at me what a useless
pony-shit I was and how I had better get up right now or things would
get a lot worse. Whenever I landed on my back he would whip my cock and
my balls. He also used the cattle prod several times on my legs, my ass,
my chest and my genitals causing the most excruciating pain. Soon I was
crying, sobbing hysterically and several times I almost lost
consciousness form the beatings, but in the end I managed to stand up. 

My entire body from my calves to my neck and including my head had been
hit and angry, red welts were forming all over my body. I stood sobbing
with pain and fear, on the verge of hyperventilating and my genitals
were starting to swell from the beating. I had never been in more pain
and I had never, ever been so afraid. I was so afraid of Master as I
stood there that when he stepped close to inspect me, I soiled myself. I
stood paralyzed with fear and as he touched me softly, I involuntarily
let my bladder go and a revolting smell filled the trailer as my waste
ran down my legs. 

I was terrified of him. I had never been abused so brutally, never felt
more intensely controlled and I had never been so afraid in my life.
Without even thinking about it I whinnied with fear as his hand traveled
down my backside, taking me, possessing me. I loved it. In spite of the
fact that my balls had swelled to more than twice their original size
and my cock was bruised and battered, I felt it stir and get hard. One
part of me wanted to disobey him again just to receive more punishment,
but my fear focused my mind on an overwhelming need to obey this brutal
man. 

Before leading me out of the trailer Master grasped my balls, lightly at
first and then with ever-increasing pressure, and said: "It'll get
worse. Plenty worse." Again I involuntarily whinnied with fear as Master
grabbed my reins and led me out. 

As Master led me across a courtyard covered with hard packed dirt and
into a stable, I again thought about how low I had sunk. Here I was
being led into a stable, high stepping like a show pony, covered with
welts from the beating I had just received and with my own shit running
down the inside of my legs. And I had a hard-on again. The humiliation
was intense. 

Inside the barn I was led to a corner covered with tile, apparently some
sort of bathroom. Here he removed my collar, bit, head harness and
blinkers until I stood wearing only my pony boots, which only rarely
came off. Then he went to work. First he gave me series of very painful
and very humiliating enemas. Filling my bowels up until I thought I
would burst, Master made me hold them for a very long time before
letting them go in an explosion of foul smelling watery shit. Master had
donned a rubber apron and rubber gloves before administering the enemas
and now washed me thoroughly using a powerful, cold-water hose and a
very stiff brush. The brush was none too gentle on the welts I had
received from the whipping and soon I was crying again, but of course
Master didn't care. After a long, cold bath I stood shivering as Master
toweled me dry. Soon I stood at attention, legs together, stooping
forward. All resistance had been beaten out of me, yet I reveled in the
situation and loved the control. Some part of me still wanted to rebel,
just to be punished again. 

I did not, however, rebel as Master grabbed my cock and led me to
another part of the stable, into a small enclosure with a hay-covered
floor. There were two whole rows of enclosures and I realized that
Master planned to have many ponies. Only the one he led me to had a
nametag on the bars surrounding it. The tag read: "Mark. Show pony." In
the middle of the floor inside the enclosure a pole rose out of the
floor and at the end of it was a giant dildo, a truly monstrous thing
covered with knobs and ridges. There was no doubt in my mind as to where
it would go and I whinnied with fright and excitement. Already Master's
control over me was so great that instinctively whinnied whenever I felt
the need to express something. It was as if the furious punishment had
beaten the desire to speak out of me. The head of the monster dildo was
lower than my crotch and Master now positioned me with a foot on either
side, the dildo directly under my asshole. At his command I placed my
feet so that my ankles touched the pole. A steel band was then used to
secure my feet to the pole. Once this was accomplished the top of the
pole began moving upwards until the dildo pressed against my asshole.
For a second I resisted it as tried getting in, but it was futile and
soon I was groaning, then screaming as the monster made it's way up
inside me. I stood gasping for air as the giant dildo filled me
completely, desperate to escape and knowing that it wouldn't happen. 

As I stood gasping for air Master came carrying another very large
dildo. This one had a hole in the head and before I knew what was
happening Master had stepped up on a stool and was busy pushing it down
my throat. Again I instinctively tried resisting and again it did me no
good. I gagged and retched but after a short fight the dildo filled not
only my mouth but my throat as well. The hole in the center of the dildo
allowed me to breathe but in my state of near panic it was a while
before I realized this and in the meantime I spasmed trying to get rid
of it. Even after I found out how to breathe it was most unpleasant and
I constantly had to fight my gagging reflex. The dildo was so long and
so stiff that it forced my head back and I now stood staring at an angle
because I wasn't able to stand straight. 

But of course Master wasn't finished yet. First he began pulling a very
large and very thick rubber bag down over me. He pulled it down over my
head until the upper part of it formed a hood that held my head very
tightly, cutting off my vision and muffling all sounds. In the hood
section there was only an opening for my mouth and nothing else. Then he
pulled it down over the rest of my body and I quickly learned that the
rubber had been made to measure. It clung tightly to every curve,
squeezing me in a way that was restrictive yet sensuous. The rubber bag
went all the way down to my feet, where Master unnecessarily tied if off
with a wide strap. There was only one other opening in the bag apart
from the one at my feet and the one at my mouth and that was at my
crotch. This opening was quite small as I found out when Master reached
in and pulled my genitals out through the opening, which squeezed the
root of my cock quite tightly. Because I couldn't straighten my back and
stood stooping slightly forward, Master "helped" me keep my balance by
tying a sturdy strap around my upper body and securing two chains
hanging down from the ceiling to it. That way some of my weight was
carried by the chains and not transferred to the dildo in my ass. 

As a final touch Master used a strap to secure the dildo in my mouth. I
now stood swaying in dizzy darkness, held upright by a monster dildo
firmly lodged in my ass, filling me so completely that I felt like I had
trouble breathing properly. Of course the dildo in my throat did nothing
to alleviate this. 

Then Master started to strike the head of my cock with his riding crop.
Slowly and not too hard at first, but as my cock betrayed my arousal,
the intensity of his beating increased. When my cock was at full mast
the blows came hard and fast, causing me both great pain and great
pleasure. Because of the dildo in my throat I was unable to produce any
sound at all and so there was I couldn't even scream. As the pain,
humiliation and feeling of absolute helplessness increased so did my
arousal until I finally came, thrashing just as much as my hopeless
situation would allow me. 

Then he left me. I didn't hear him leave, but after a while I realized
that I would be forced to sleep like this; wrapped in tight rubber with
dildos filling both ends up completely, constantly fighting the gagging
reflex, my whole body a mass of pain and enjoying the afterglow of yet
another gloriously painful orgasm. I loved it and a deep feeling of
gratitude filled me. 

All it had taken to turn me into a completely devoted, pain-loving slut
was a few days of harsh training and some surgery. Using only this
Master had made me his and I loved him for. 

I am not sure that I actually slept in that extremely uncomfortable
position, a position I have slept in every night used since then, except
when I'm being used, but I am sure that I dreamt. The whole night was
filled with extremely vivid dreams of Master punishing and fucking me
mercilessly. 

I was roused from my dreaming state by a furious whipping. Master's crop
landed all over my body as he whipped the new day in for me. Afterwards
he removed my rubber sleeping bag and the two impaling dildos. As they
were removed I sighed both relief and loss. Being impaled at both ends
was uncomfortable as well as an enormous turn-on and in spite of the
fact that I was hungry, thirsty and exhausted from standing in that
strained position all night, I still got rock hard as Master grasped my
cock and led me out of the enclosure. The enclosure has been my "home"
ever since and I have since learned to sleep standing just like that,
since I am not allowed to sleep in any other way. Master has decreed
that since real horses don't lie down, neither should his ponies and so
all Master's ponies spend their entire life standing, unless of course
someone throws one of us to the ground to punish or fuck or in all
likelihood both. 

The punishment from the day before was fresh in my mind, even if I was
very tired and I remembered to high step and to behave as pony-like as
possible as Master led me to the bathroom-like area of the barn. Here he
started by feeding me. This was done by forcing a large, clear plastic
tube into my mouth and informing me that I had better swallow it all.
Through the tube came a thick liquid that looked and tasted like semen
mixed with oats or something. Until I was able to produce most of my own
food this was the only sustenance I received. I had to swallow very
large amounts of this artificial semen before being given something to
drink. The drink was a yellow liquid that looked and tasted just like
piss and I am very rarely given anything else to drink. To remove any
bad breath that my disgusting diet might cause I was then ordered to
rinse my mouth in a very strong and very vile liquid that tasted of
industrial strength mint. 

After being fed it was time for me to go get rid of my waste. Since
becoming Master's pony this is done only by enema, never independently
and Master requires that I receive at least ten of them before I am
deemed clean enough inside. I both love and hate enemas. Being filled up
to the bursting point with warm water fills me with desperation as I
hold it in for the period of time Master requires. There is no escape,
no reprieve as my whole being is absorbed by the unpleasant fullness and
it always makes me whinny and cry as my eyes roll around in their
sockets and I begin to sweat. At first I groaned as I was filled up but
this most unpony-like behavior was rapidly whipped out of me. At the
same time I love it. The helplessness in the situation, the fact that
even your bowel movement is beyond your control turns me on. 

When I had expelled the last of the enemas and stood panting with
exertion, Master bathed me or rather blasted me with a cold-water jet.
Then he dried me none too gently, braided my mane and fitted me with my
collar, bit, head-harness and blinkers before fitting me with my new
tail and finally leading me out of the stable my reins. The tail looked
just like a regular horse's tail but it was mounted on a brutal
butt-plug. The plug was just as wide as the dildo that had been lodged
in my ass during the night, but not as long. Once Master had pushed it
all the way in, he turned a knob and the plug became somehow much wider,
robbing me of the possibility of pushing it out. 

I high stepped as best I could, but when we reached the fenced in area
that had been our destination, Master announced that I would now be
taught how to walk properly. He certainly wasn't lying. The day passed
in a hailstorm of blows from the crop and shocks from the cattle prod as
he instructed me in proper walking for a pony: First I was to raise my
leg until my thigh was parallel to the ground. Then I should extend my
lower leg and finally I should set my foot, in it's brutal pony boot,
carefully down. It sounded simple enough, but not only was Master a
perfectionist, accepting nothing but absolute perfection in every move,
he also insisted that I move like this always. It didn't matter if I
trotted, ran or just had to move two inches forward; my legs always had
to move in the prescribed manner. At the same time I was to keep my
upper body completely still and my eyes looking straight ahead and not
down. I was helped by the surgery I that had been performed on my back
and neck, but it was still very difficult and my new enormous butt-plug
didn't help matters 

The training session lasted until the sun went down and was only
interrupted when Master stopped to fuck my ass, which happened several
times during the day, and when he stopped me to give me some of the
synthetic urine to drink. He didn't touch my cock one single time and
when he led me back to the stable in a state of exhaustion, covered in
welts, my cock was at full mast, hard and throbbing with need. 

Back at the stable I was fed in same way I had been fed in the morning
and then Master impaled me at both ends and sealed me inside my rubber
cocoon just like the day before. I was trying to whine with desperation
at not being allowed to cum, but failing because of the intruder in my
throat when Master began whipping my cock head. As his whipping picked
up in intensity and the pain and my excitement mounted, I almost cried
with gratitude. My orgasm was not long coming and I soon spurted a large
portion of cum onto the floor. 

Then Master left me for the night; left me to my increasingly vivid
fantasies. I was increasingly thinking of myself as a pony-slave and
even in my dreams I tried desperately to please Master. 

The following day the routine was the same. The day started with a
whipping, followed by a breakfast of synthetic semen and urine, an
excruciating series of enemas and a cold bath. Then it was outside to
train walking, trotting and running. When the sun went down I was fed
and sealed inside my rubber cocoon and given an orgasm by way of
Master's whip. 

Every time I made even the slightest movement or sound that Master
deemed to be not pony-like, I was punished furiously. After only a few
days most of my human behavior had been punished out me and my style of
walking was almost perfect. I had also shed most of my old thought
pattern. Before becoming Master pony I had thought ahead: what would
happen next? What should I do now? That sort of thing. Now my thoughts
were only about obedience, about pleasing Master right now without
thought for the consequences. My conditioning was nearly complete in
just a week's time. 

But "almost" wasn't good enough for Master. It had to be perfect and so
the mind-numbing routine, the harsh and unrelenting training and the
fierce punishments continued for several months without pause. After
about three weeks I lost track of time and became completely immersed in
the flow of brutal training, but I would guess that it was more than
four months of exactly the same routine before Master changed it even
the slightest bit. By that time my transformation was complete. I
existed only to please Master and every second of my life was dedicated
to that purpose. I doubt that I would even have been able to walk like a
human if asked to and I was now "Mark the pony" and not just "Mark the
slave". At night I dreamed of brutal punishment and fierce fuckings and
all my thought were filled with intense love for and devotion to Master.

Chapter 5 
Once my initial training was over it was time for me to be
ridden properly for the first time. That morning Master came to the
stable in a very fetching outfit. He wore a white shirt with a high
collar and a black tie. Over this he wore a red riding jacket and on his
hand were black leather gloves. On his legs were cream-colored Jodhpurs
and on his feet were high, black riding boots complete with spurs that
looked very sharp. The boots were polished to a high shine and in his
hand was of course his riding crop. 

As usual I was just happy to see Master as my rubber cocoon was removed
and thought no more about it as I was fed, emptied and washed. It was
just another day of harsh training. But after being fitted with bit and
such, Master tied a very broad piece of black leather around my midriff,
extending from just below my nipples all the way down to my hips. I was
puzzled at this break in the routine, but my mind was too well
conditioned by now to question what was happening. This done he fetched
a saddle and then even I understood what was about to happen. The saddle
was heavy and when it was strapped on properly my breathing was a little
troubled. I on the other hand was not troubled. The idea of finally
being ridden excited me immensely and when Master put a foot in the
stirrups and swung himself up to sit on my back, I felt happy and
fulfilled. 

The happy feelings were soon exchanged with the brutal realities of
being a pony. The saddle was at an angle to my back so that Master could
sit upright without straining and the stirrups were at the level of my
buttock so he could use his spurs properly. As he sat down in the saddle
I felt for the first time how heavy Master was and also for the first
time got a feeling for how much effort I would have to put into this to
please Master. Master was six foot two and was at least two hundred and
twenty pounds of pure muscle, probably more. As he tapped my ass with
his crop and set me in motion I understood how hard this was going to
be. Carrying Master on my back while walking normally would have been
very demanding, but trotting in the manner prescribed by Master was
extremely hard. So hard that by the time we reached the enclosure where
we trained Master was already cursing furiously and using both whip and
spurs to full effect. 

During that day Master only left my back three times. Two times to fuck
me and once to allow me to drink the urine-like liquid. The rest of the
day he stayed in the saddle as he trained me. It was beyond a doubt the
hardest day since the first fetched me from the doctor. When the sun
went down I was weeping from exhaustion and was of course covered in
welts. I could feel my buttocks bleeding from all the times Master had
dug his spurs into my flank. My feet in their impossibly small hoof-like
platform boots felt like they had been smashed. Still, I felt extreme
gratitude as Master sealed me inside my rubber sleeping bag and whipped
and orgasm out of me. 

The next two weeks were the hardest training I have ever endured as I
fought to reach the level of perfection Master required in my walk, trot
and run. He sat on my back from morning till night, only coming down to
fuck me and feed me. 

I was nowhere near the level he required after two weeks and so he
introduced a new tool to control me even harder. One evening after he
had fed me and impaled me with my two sleeping dildos, I felt how Master
carefully washed my balls. He still hadn't pulled my rubber cocoon down
over me and I was again puzzled, even if I was so tired that I had
trouble keeping my eyes open. I couldn't see what was going on, but soon
I felt it. My world exploded in pain as Master penetrated first one
testicle, then the other, and injected them with what felt like several
gallons of fluid. Of course it could only have been a tiny amount of
fluid, but to me it felt like he pumped my balls full, a process that
seemed to take forever. The pain was excruciating and I wanted to scream
and thrash, but the dildo in my throat cut off all sound and I was too
well controlled by the dildo in my ass to do much thrashing so I just
had to endure it. When he was finished Master carried on like nothing
out of the ordinary had happened and sealed me inside my cocoon. He even
pulled out my genitals through the tiny opening and whipped me to a very
tender orgasm before leaving me for the night. I had no idea what was
going on and I had been conditioned not bother my pony brain with
questions so I soon fell into an exhausted and painful sleep. 

When I woke up next morning my balls ached something awful. As Master
prepared for the day my balls were so tender that even the slightest
touch was painful. As I stood fully outfitted and ready for the day's
training Master spoke to me. It was the first time he had spoken to me
since my training had started all those months ago. Once training had
begun, he had begun treating me like an animal only uttering simple
words to mark his pleasure or displeasure in what I did, never speaking
in sentences to me, taking care that I responded to the tone of his
words and not so much their content. So I was unused to him speaking
directly to me, but he got my attention quickly: "Mark, I have injected
your balls with a very special substance, a treatment that is not
complete yet. The substance will increase your sperm production
enormously, to the point where you will have to be tapped several times
every day and every night in order to prevent damage to your balls. What
you are feeling now is a very bad case of blue balls. Believe me, it can
get much worse, even to the point of bursting your balls." As I reeled
Master continued: "This is another tool to train you, one that will be
with you as long as you have balls. Behave and I will see to it that
your balls are emptied. Fail to meet my standards and the pain in your
groin will continue to grow. And since this process cannot be reversed,
this means that there is now a permanent punishment hanging over your
head just waiting to be activated and that this punishment is in your
own balls. Behave and be emptied. Misbehave and suffer the worst blue
balls in the world." 

As the words sank in I was filled with desperation. One more aspect of
my life was now a means of control and punishment. Now my orgasms were
not merely pleasurable but necessary. 

In keeping with this new method of training I did not have my balls
emptied before starting the days exercises. It was several hours before
Master deemed that I had behaved well enough to have my balls emptied.
For this he had installed a new device on the fence surrounding the
training area. I could only see it at a distance as he guided me towards
it. It was a steel tube lined with a rubber sleeve connected via some
tubing to a large glass bottle. As I approached the fence I could no
longer see it as it was below my field of vision, but Master guided me
with an expert hand. In spite of the pain, or more likely because of it,
my cock was erect; hard and throbbing with need. Marching me slowly
forward Master guided my cock into the tube. The soft rubber sleeve
enveloped my needy member and I almost forgot my conditioning and sighed
with pleasure. Once my cock was inside Master took out a small remote
control and pressed a button. The sleeve sprang to life and began
massaging my cock. As the pace quickened and I came within a minute I
did scream as my body convulsed, my eyes rolled back with pure pleasure
and an enormous amount of semen spurted out of my cock only to be pumped
down into the glass bottle. 

Master didn't let me enjoy the afterglow but started training just as
soon as the last of my semen was in the bottle. I was a little dizzy
from the powerful orgasm, but as usual there was no rebellion in me and
I was soon busy obeying Master's commands. 

I obviously didn't live up his demands, for there were no more orgasms
that day and my balls had already begun to ache as Master had me trot
back to the stables. He had picked up the bottle containing my sperm and
back at the stable it was added to my evening meal. 

Before sealing me inside my rubber prison Master again injected the evil
liquid into my balls, again making me desperate with pain. Then he
sealed me in rubber and left me, this time without whipping my cock to
an orgasm as he usually did. Apparently this new training tool was to be
taken seriously and I would from now on only receive orgasms when Master
deemed that I had earned them. 

The next morning my balls were even more tender that the day before and
I tried to please Master during training with an intensity and fervor I
had never before been able to muster, despite my complete and utter
devotion to him. It seemed that the carrot only got you so far. Only the
big stick would get you that final mile and Master had just introduced
the big stick in my life. A stick that would dominate the most of the
rest of my life. 

At training Master's demands were even tougher than the day before and I
was not granted and orgasm that day. When we got back to the stable
after nightfall I was completely desperate for an orgasm, but begging
would only make matters worse. One would think that with the new method
of punishing me Master would use the old ones like the drop and the
spurs less, but no. I was still covered with welts and bruises. 

Without even having to point out my failure Master simply went about the
nightly routine of feeding me, filling my holes and injecting the evil
substance into my balls before sealing me in rubber. Again there was no
orgasm by whip and in the morning I thought my balls would burst from
the pent-up pressure. 

I was, however, quite clear on what I had to do and at the days training
I tried harder than ever before to please Master, but again I fell short
of his demands. By nightfall my need was extreme. It filled my whole
universe and I was sure that my balls had grown to the size of
basketballs. As before there was no reprieve and for me the routine from
the night before was simply repeated. Again I stood sealed inside my
rubber cocoon, my aching balls filled to the bursting point with sperm. 

This routine went on for three more days before I was finally able to
please Master enough for him to grant me an orgasm. It happened just
before nightfall and I almost cried with relief when Master steered me
toward the tube mounted on the fence. This time my orgasm was literally
mind-blowing. It went on and on, putting me in a state that most
resembled an epileptic seizure where all I could think about was how
good it was to obey and love Master completely and unquestioningly. When
it was finally over I was dazed in a way I had not been before, my mind
now even more strongly focused on the need to please Master. It has been
that way with all orgasms I have received ever since. As I cum I know
that I am only allowed to do so because of unquestioning obedience to
Master. This knowledge focuses my mind in a way that gradually shuts out
all other thoughts, making me for every little orgasm a more perfect
slave, as is no doubt Master's intention. 

The injections stopped after another week, but the training did not and
Master's demands only increased as time went by. Many days and even
whole weeks were without orgasms for me and my desire to please Master
at all costs increased all the time as did my gratitude every single
orgasm and indeed every single second I spent with Master. My sense of
time became increasingly fuzzy but I think that this phase of my
training might have lasted up to six months. When it was over was able
to run with Master on my back all day long with perfect style and grace.

With my basic pony training over I had reached a level of perfection
where I was granted orgasms several times a day, propelling me to new
levels of love and devotion for Master. It had come at price, however.
The many days of denied orgasms had made my balls grow. At first I
didn't think it was real, but rather a trick my mind played after being
without release. But one day as Master fondled my balls before giving me
a supplemental injection I could actually feel for the first time how
large they had become. My balls were now the size of tennis balls if not
bigger! The days of denial coupled with my ever-growing sperm production
had made them bigger. Another side effect was that I now ran around with
a constant hard-on. It wasn't that much of a change really, since
Master's complete control over me had always insured my arousal, but now
my hard-on was almost permanent. It took very severe punishment to make
my cock flaccid and even then it soon got hard again. Even an orgasm was
no longer enough to make it lie down. When I pulled out of the sleeve
that sucked cum out of me I was just as hard as when I had been going
in. 

All this cuming produced an enormous amount of semen and Master was not
one to let it go to waste. He collected all my semen in glass
containers, mixed it with oats and some of the artificial semen and fed
it right back to me. It became my staple diet together with the
urine-flavored water. 

The better I behaved, the more I was allowed to cum. But there was a
subtle downside to this. As I came more my balls increased the
production of sperm and so my need to cum increased with it, driving me
towards new levels of obedience and perfection of behavior and motion. 

At first a couple of orgasms a day was enough, but this soon increased
until it was every hour during the daytime. Before I had been able to go
through a night without getting release, and could wait for my first
orgasm of the day until an hour after my morning cleaning and the only
adverse effect would be a comparatively mild ache in my balls. Now I
woke up feeling like my balls were about to explode. Soon I was fitted
with a sleeve overnight that made me cum during the night; if I had
behaved properly, that is. 

The constant cuming had the effect of making me run around in a constant
haze of sexual need and satisfaction and more importantly, with my mind
constantly focused on pleasing Master. Master had long been the
dominating figure in my universe and this only focused me more on him. 

Chapter 6 
While all this was happening to me, Master was expanding his
empire. He must have been training them elsewhere because suddenly the
stables were filled with little rubber-clad stable boys, looking very
much like the rubber nurses at the clinic. All were in their
mid-twenties, covered in rubber and wearing seven-inch stilettos and all
had their genitals locked in impossibly small chastity tubes and of
course they were smooth gummed. There were only two differences compared
to the rubber nurses at the clinic. Master's stable boys wore red
instead of white rubber and they had been allowed to keep their hair and
in fact their hair tended to be long and cut in girlish hairstyles. They
were perfectly docile and obedient, so it was fair to assume that Master
had trained them very hard before letting them out in the stables. 

They now took over the task of feeding me cleaning me and keeping me
sealed in rubber, impaled by the brutal dildos. I never saw one cum and
their poor imprisoned cocks always dribbled pre-cum. When I was plugged
into the automatic sucking machine they always looked at me with extreme
envy. I have no idea where they slept since I was always sealed inside
my rubber cocoon when that happened, but I can't imagine it was
someplace nice and comfortable. 

When the stable boys arrived, so did the first new pony, a huge black
pony, armless like me. The sign on the bars surrounding his enclosure
read "Tony. Racing pony" and I got the feeling that he certainly wasn't
as easily controlled as I was. At least not at first. I think he put up
a real fight the first few days before Master broke him, but to tell the
truth I don't really know. My world had narrowed down to the overriding
need to please Master so that I could get release. All my energy was
consumed by this and I didn't really notice others, only Master had my
undivided attention. Not that I didn't obey everything the stable boys
told me to without hesitation, it was just that they were nothing more
than a poor substitute for Master. 

As the stables was gradually filled up with ponies in various stages of
training, Master let the stable boys ride me to keep me in shape while
he was occupied with training others. There was no difference in the
level of perfection required of me. The stable boys had also been
trained to perfection and they knew that failure on their part to keep
me in shape would result in terrible punishment. 

Master also had house slaves and usually these accompanied him to the
stables to watch him train us ponies. The function of the house slaves
was apparently to watch Master admiringly as he trained the ponies and
to give him a blowjob or let him fuck their assess whenever he needed
it. All the house slaves were very pretty boys in their early twenties
with very delicate and most cases feminine movements. Of course what
little clothes they wore was always fine and very sexy and all wore
stilettos, the minimum height seemingly seven-inches and often much
higher with the help of platforms. All had their members imprisoned in
chastity tubes in a manner that was visible to the rest of the world and
not one of them had any teeth in their mouths. At least two of the house
slaves were shemales with long hair, completely feminine features all
the way down the rounded hips, ample butts, big tits and fine skin
complexions. The shemales were always perfectly made up and if it wasn't
for the fact that Master demanded that their chastised member were
always visible no one would have thought they were, or at least had
been, men. 

With the introduction of the house slaves Master stopped fucking the
ponies altogether. As he now always had pretty slave boys just waiting
to please him at his hand, his physical contact with the ponies was
reduced to sitting on our back as we ran and punishing us when we failed
to live up to his demands. 

This did not diminish the love and devotion I felt towards Master.
Rather I now strained even harder to please him in the futile hope that
he would once again fuck me and I am certain the other ponies did the
same thing. 

Master also began racing me and the others. Some, like Tony, competed in
flat out races about who came first, whereas others, like myself,
competed in style. 

The races were enormous events were many hundred Masters competed, many
with more than one pony. There were all kinds of ponies at these races,
ranging from "slaves" in almost vanilla relationships, to ponies that
were just as brutally modified and controlled as Master's ponies. The
ones from vanilla relationships had usually been tricked by their lover
and had without knowing it entered in a contest that marked the
beginning of permanent slavery for them. 

At the races it was bad for the concentration of a pony to be too much
in need of release, so many owners brought slaves just for the purpose
of proving relief for their animals. Some brought little rubberized
slave boys who sucked and fucked like there was no tomorrow, but a few
brought special ponies for this purpose. Theses ponies were all geldings
with tiny useless appendages hanging from their smooth crotches. Even as
I slipped my cock into the ass of a gelding Master had borrowed, I
shuddered with fright at the thought of that ever happening to me. 

Mostly I did well at the races, finishing in the top five, but as always
nothing but perfection was good enough for Master and that meant
winning. There were more than a few ponies that had been trained as
thoroughly and brutally as I had been and subjected to modifications as
drastic as the ones I had been through so many times the competitions
ended with me being punished. First Master would punish me at the
racetrack, most often by applying electricity to my genitals and
whipping my body, but the punishment would not stop as we left the
racetrack. Back home in the stables I would be denied orgasms for up to
a week, depending how badly I had lost. A week of enforced abstinence
made my balls grow to the size of grapefruits and every single moment of
my life filled up with the need to cum and the terrible pain in my
balls. 

As time went on I improved my winning percentage, but this only
increased the pressure on me. For every time I was milked, my production
of semen went up. Soon once every hour during the day and once a night
was not enough. Soon I had to be milked twice every hour during the day
and at least three times each night. My world shrank further as the haze
of constant need for release and constant orgasms occupied more and more
of my already very thoroughly conditioned mind. 

Master also began experiment with new ways to make life harder and more
demanding for the ponies. First he introduced racing without the use of
my sight or hearing. I was fitted with a hood that cut off all sight and
dampened sound down to nothing. I now had to rely completely on the
commands I received through the reins. It wasn't really that much of a
change for me. My mind was already so preoccupied with my desire to
please Master that I rarely saw where I was going but instead relied on
my rider. Having my sight removed when running was just taking it the
final little step. 

Breath play, however, was another matter. Master would drastically
reduce my ability to breathe properly, thereby sending me into panic
attacks as I thought I was going to die. Of course that wasn't the whole
story for me as I soon found out that the intense fear of suffocation
coupled with the pressure on my throat turned me on something awful. Of
all the added discomforts Master had poured on me since I had first come
to accept that I was indeed a pony, his pony, this was the one that
turned me on the most. And the more excited I became, the more sperm I
produced. 

Master used two ways of restricting my breathing. The first one was by
tying a string around my throat just tight enough to allow me to breathe
with great difficulty. I would run with just enough air for me not to
collapse, constantly in fear of choking and always thinking how much I
wanted to please Master. The second method was to pull a clear plastic
bag down over my head and tying it off around my neck with duct tape. In
the bag there was a tiny hole, just big enough for me to survive on the
air coming in, but definitely not big enough for me to breathe
comfortably. As my breathing became increasingly labored and the bag
fogged over I was once again plunged into extreme fantasies of brutal
and punishing sex with Master and sometimes the fantasies would end with
me being strangled to death while Master's cock pounded into me. 

After breath play had been part of my daily existence as a pony for some
time, I noticed that I was becoming dumber. There was no change in the
way I behaved, since that was dictated by Master's orders, but one day I
noticed that I was unable to read the sign on my enclosure in the barn.
I couldn't read the sign on the next enclosure either and I was filled
with a sense of panic. I couldn't quite understand why I was panicking,
but I knew that something bad was happening. The feeling passed as I was
impaled and my ass was once again filled in that familiar brutal way and
I was sealed in rubber. 

I thought no more about it, but just accepted it. I was after all just a
dumb, worthless pony slave. 

I did, however, have a real panic attack when I realized that I was
unable to understand most of what the stable boys said. The didn't talk
much, since Master of course didn't tolerate anything even resembling
idle chatter, but they did utter a few sentences during an evening. So
it was a while before I noticed, but slowly it dawned on me that most of
what they said were just sounds without meaning to me. Deep down I knew
that I should be able to understand what they said and the realization
made me panic and refuse to obey their commands as they tried to get me
impaled for the night. After much whipping and liberal use of the cattle
prod they were finally able to subdue me and impale me on my pole,
locking my legs in place. I was still in a state of panic and they
decided to call Master. 

It was quite clear that being called to the stables at night did not sit
well with Master and the rubberized stable boys delivered their
explanation with their heads pressed to the ground. Trailing behind
Master was one of his shemale slaves, dressed in nothing more than
stilettos, a very restrictive corset, a collar and an armbinder. Cum was
running down the inside of her leg and her cock looked blue as it
strained against its prison. 

Master heard their explanation and moved over to me. I stood on my pole,
whinnying senselessly in panic. Master shouted something at me and
slapped my face brutally, but I couldn't understand what he was saying.
This went on for some time until Master found out what was going on.
With a curious look on his face he approached me and spoke to me in
quiet, soothing tones and slowly I calmed down. I still understood only
a tiny fraction of what he said, but his presence and his soothing voice
did the trick. Even after I had calmed down he continued talking to me,
presumably trying to find out just how much damage I had sustained. The
longer he talked, the more he smiled and it was clear that my state as
literally a dumb animal delighted him. In the end he ordered his shemale
house slave over to kneel in front of him and provide him with a blowjob
as he enjoyed the situation. He came laughing at my lack of
comprehension and as he left I was once again sealed in my rubber
cocoon. 

The next few days my performance was poor because of the shock, but
after a day of painful abstinence I was once again focused on my life as
a pony and I accepted that I was just another dumb animal. At any rate
my mind could handle only simple thoughts and only for short periods of
time, so the thought that I should be able to understand what everyone
said was soon forgotten. 

I have no idea how long I lived as a pony. I think it was for quite a
few years, but in truth I don't know. I just ran with complete and utter
devotion to Master, enjoying every glorious orgasm he saw fit to grant
me. 

In the end I had to be milked three times every hour, both night and
day. The milking device on the fence was replaced by a mobile one
strapped to my abdomen, constantly holding my cock and pumping my semen
to a large bottle placed just below my saddle. My life was a constant
state of obedience and extreme sexual pleasure. My mind had dwindled
further from the near constant breath play and I now understood very
little of went on around me. 

Then one day my routine was broken as I was led out of the stables in
the morning. I had no saddle on my back and no plug with a tail in my
ass and instead of being led out for a training run, I was led up to
Master's house. I had never been inside the house and I hardly
recognized the house for what it was. Still high stepping my very best I
was led into a large room where Master sat on a couch surrounded by
devoted little house slaves. In front of the couch was a pole just like
the one in my enclosure and soon I was impaled on it just like I was in
the stables. My ankles were tied to the pole and a low table was placed
in front of me so that the edge of the table touched my shins. On the
table one of the house slaves placed a very large bucket. 

Then at Master's command two of the little chastised house slaves fitted
me with a chastity tube, just like the one they wore themselves. Since
my cock had long since reached a state of permanent erection, this took
quite some doing, but using a combination of a very large icepack and
some vicious electric shocks to my balls they finally managed to shrink
it down to the very small size needed to fit me with the tube. Both
looked very proud as they say down at Master's feet. 

I of course didn't understand what was going on, only that it hurt
awfully. My cock desperately strained against it's prison, but of course
the steel tube made sure it couldn't get hard. It had also been sometime
since my last orgasm and I had begun to feel the ache. The ache just got
worse and worse, but it was quite clear that no one would do anything
about it. Master and his slaves continued lounging about. Occasionally
he fucked one of them or tortured them in some way, but no one paid me
any heed. 

By nightfall I was desperate and my sounds became annoying to Master so
he had me gagged. The little house slaves on the other hand were all
smiling, even if most of their smiles were strained as Master had proven
that he had an insatiable appetite for causing pain. All his slaves had
been screaming at some point during the day, but they all did their best
to look as if they enjoyed it a great deal. Even my slow and damaged
mind understood that they were all terrified of him, just as I was, and
that they were probably all hopelessly in love with him, just as I was.
Like me, they were trapped. Like all his slaves they had been
conditioned to love him, no matter how their feelings had been before he
caught them. 

When night fell Master went to bed with most of his entourage, but he
left one slave to watch me. It was one of the shemales and she spent all
night kissing and caressing my body at his command. 

In the morning the pain from my crotch was unbearable. I thought it
might have been years since I had last gone twenty-four hours without an
orgasm and my balls felt like they were the size of watermelons. As
Master and his house slaves took their place in the couch, this was
confirmed when Master had a mirror placed off to one side so I could see
my own balls. They were indeed the size of watermelons and it looked
like the skin was about to burst. 

All through the day I watched in fascinated horror as my balls grew to a
grotesque size. When the sun went down the pain was unbelievable and I
would do anything to get rid of it. Master and his slaves had gradually
stopped talking and were instead watching my balls intently. In the
mirror I watched as they grew until suddenly a very small tear appeared
in both of the ball-sacks almost at the same time. By that time the pain
couldn't get any worse so I didn't really feel it. The tears grew very
slowly at first, but finally it was like the skin just gave way and
suddenly my scrotum burst open, like two large zippers had just been
pulled, and my balls exploded out through the opening. They were huge,
the size of large grapefruits, but as they burst out the most impressive
thing was the enormous amounts of cum that exploded out with them. It
was like a flood of blood-laced cum that exploded out of my scrotum
along with my testicles. I screamed for all I was worth and passed out
as I saw my balls land in the bucket along with most of the semen,
tearing away the last few string attaching them to my body as they fell.

Chapter 7 
I woke to the usual whipping, my world consisting again of
tight darkness smelling of rubber. At first I thought I had been
dreaming and that the ache in my crotch was from one of the usual
punishments, but as the rubber cocoon was removed and the dildos pulled
out I noticed that this pain was different and much, much worse. It
became painfully clear that it had not been a dream as the stable boys
forced me to walk over to the bathroom area. Every step was pure pain
and all doubt vanished when on of the stable boys held up a mirror to
show me my heavily bandaged crotch. I cried hopelessly but still the
stable boys went through the same morning routine as always, if a little
gentler than usual. 

Once I had been fed, washed and outfitted in my usual pony gear I was
gently led to an enclosure and left to stand there. The pain was bad,
but standing absolutely still made it a little better so all day I stood
perfectly still in a corner of the enclosure. In the afternoon Master
came to see me. He looked very pleased, dragging a crying slave boy who
had obviously been whipped very badly as practically his whole body was
red from the beating. The young man, who was twenty-four at most, was
naked except for his stilettos and the leash around his cock, which
Master used to drag him by. 

Master stood close to the fence and motioned me closer. Every so
gingerly, causing myself unbelievable pain I came up to the fence.
Seeing me like that made Master smile and seeing Master so obviously
enjoying the sight of me, castrated as I was now, actually made things
better. My tiny mind focused on my devotion to Master and since this
pleased him, I should be pleased too. This was for Master's enjoyment
and thus it couldn't be bad. 

His enjoyment was so great that he threw the house slave up against the
fence and took him brutally from behind. The fucking took a long time
and as Master's orgasm approached his hands closed around the neck of
the slave, choking him until he passed out and fell limply to the
ground, Master's cum leaking out of his ass. Only slowly did he regain
consciousness, coughing and retching as he came to, crying from the
shock. When the slave was back on his feet Master turned and left,
dragging the badly shocked slave behind him. 

When evening came I was led back into the stable and prepared for the
night same as always. Seemingly no routines had been changed just
because Master had seen fit to castrate me. I still slept standing up,
sealed in rubber and filled with punishment dildos. 

The next morning, when I had been fed, washed and outfitted a doctor
came to check on the wound and change the bandage. He gave me a few
shots and let them take me to the enclosure again. 

Again I stood as still as possible all day and like the day before
Master came to see me in the afternoon. It pleased me to see that he
liked what had been done to me and I began to accept that what he had
done to me was for the best. Maybe not the best for me, but since I
didn't matter that was of no consequence. If it pleased Master all was
well. That day he had one of the shemales in tow and she looked truly
terrified. Her naked body bore the marks of prolonged torture and the
marks around her neck were unmistakable. This time he didn't settle for
a brutal fuck, but beat her brutally before fucking her even more
violently than he had fucked the slave from the day before and again he
finished of by choking her until she lost consciousness. She was crying
hopelessly, in near shock as he led her off. 

My healing process lasted three weeks and the routine was the same every
day. I was treated just like I had been before, except that now I didn't
train and the doctor came to see me regularly. Every day Master came to
see me and delight in my castration and for each passing day the poor
slave accompanying him had to endure more and more brutal treatment. In
the final week one slave wasn't enough and when he took his hands away
from the throat of the slave he had been fucking and choking, the slave
fell limply to the ground and lay there long enough that I began fearing
that he had killed him. 

Master didn't kill anyone, however, but after that all his house slave
acquired a look of constant terror. 

When my healing period was over and my bandages were finally removed I
saw that not only did I have a smooth crotch, but my once proud and
beautiful cock had shrunk down to the size of a small thumb. And no
matter how much I willed it, no matter how much I thought of Master, I
could even get it to twitch. It had been rendered not only harmless, but
useless. Had it not been for the fact that it seemed to please Master, I
would have been unbearably depressed. Now at least I had that thought to
cheer me up; that I still pleased Master. 

My new role in life turned out to be very ironic. I was still kept and
fed like before, but my training was minimal and usually I as only
ridden if one of the stable boys was being rewarded and granted the
right to ride for fun. My form was still perfect of course; my many
years of training not easily undone and I still enjoyed being subjected
to breath play, which now became my primary source of enjoyment apart
from pleasing Master. No my new role was that of gelding at race day. On
race day I was brought along so that the racehorses could get a good
fuck. Sometimes I would get fucked by one of Master's ponies at home,
but usually they were milked just as I had been. 

I now lived to provide relief for other ponies without ever being able
to get relief myself. At home the stable boys and even the house slave
came to ride me when they were being rewarded or Master thought I needed
some exercise and usually they would play with my breath either with
rope of using plastic bags. This had become one of Master's favorites
and his liking for it spread throughout the household to all levels. 

Over time it had the result of further dumbing me down to the point
where I now have trouble recognizing other ponies. I do however
recognize Tony, if only because he was the first pony after me and
because he has joined me in the gelding pen, where we spend most of our
time waiting as our minds become more and more damaged from the constant
asphyxiation we are subjected to. 

Epilogue 
Master looked at Mark and Tony standing in the gelding pen. He
had many fond memories of punishing Mark and fucking him senseless. He
had acquired many, many slaves since then and many were more beautiful
or ran more perfectly, sucked or fucked more perfectly, but only very
few were as devoted as he had been. 

Master had a whole household full of slaves of all descriptions who had
only four things in common: they all had a chastised member between
their legs, none were ever allowed to cum except the ponies, none had
any teeth and all were completely devoted to him, just as they had been
conditioned. Still, few had reached the level of devotion Mark had shown
from the very start and Master thought it had been a lucky strike that
he had been the first. 

But now Mark was becoming too damaged to continue even in his diminished
capacity as gelding. All the breath play had damaged his brain to the
point where he now had trouble moving his limbs properly and had it not
been for the plugs he would be unable to hold his own waste. No, the
time to put him down had come, but then Mark had lasted almost ten years
and that was certainly a good run, far longer than most of Master's
slaves. 

Since Mark so obviously enjoyed breath play even in his present reduced
state, Master decided that that was the way he would go. He went into
the pen and led Mark over to the fence. Here he removed his blinkers,
head harness, bit, collar and butt-plug and pushed him up against the
fence. Then he began to fuck Mark in the ass for the first time in
years. He could both hear and feel Mark's pleasure at being fucked and
when he felt his own orgasm approaching, he closed his hands around
Mark's throat and squeezed it tightly, feeling his almost orgasmic
writhing beneath him; powerful jerks at first, then desperate thrashing
and finally just weak spasms before stopping altogether. 

THE END 

If you liked the story drop me a line at story_2nn@yahoo.com 

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