Learning the Ropes (2 page)

Jenny's gaze swung slowly from one end of the room to the other. It was a little awkward, with the collar hampering movement of her neck, but there was plenty to take in. For starters, there were three treadmills which appeared to have had some minor alterations. The most obvious were that they featured no side rails for the user to grip and there was a long metal chain and karabiner hanging from the ceiling above each one.

In the middle of the room was a long central pole and at the top of the pole there was a motor and long metal arms which extended outward. At the end of the metal arms were large, key-ring type clips. Jenny knew this was what was called a 'hot walker'. They were used to exercise horses in a continuous circle, at a relatively placid speed, by tying them or clipping them to the end of the horizontal metal arms. This particular hot walker was much smaller than one which would be used for horses and had space for four occupants.

The room also had two exercise bikes, with the handles removed, and several buckets of water lined along a low wooden shelf. There was a large control panel at the back of the gym, covered in switches and dials, and a tub of various leather collars and butt plugs which were either entirely made of metal or had a metal strip running through them. A dish of bright green apples on the table beside the door completed the look. Jenny was glad she wouldn't be here long enough to appreciate these machines. Exercise in any form wasn't really her thing.

Having given her enough time to fully grasp all the room had to offer, Mark decided to clarify a few points for her. 'You'll be exercised every day until there isn't an ounce of spare flesh on your body. You've got a few pounds to lose on both your thighs and your waistline. This will be reflected in your feed and in the time you'll spend in here initially.'

If Jenny hadn't been leaning on her hands she would have used one to slap him. Instead, she made a loud and rather unfeminine grunt in which to display her anger. She was a size 10! She watched what she ate and she looked good. Men always gave her a second glance in clubs and few resisted the chance to chat her up. If she lost any more weight she'd disappear.

Mark ignored the grunt. 'You'll also need to gain muscle tone if your trainer wants you to pull carts and believe me, they'll want you to pull carts. So you can expect to work hard. This room will work on your weight, your carriage, your speed, your stamina and improve the overall shape of your body. If you're wondering what the control panel is for, it's something called 'electro-stimulation,' and we'll talk more on that later.'

Jenny didn't much like the words 'electro-stimulation'. They sounded painful; more painful than exercise itself and that was bad enough.

'You'll note the clips above the treadmill and on the arms of the hot walker. Your bridle will be attached to these and you'll have little choice but to exercise at whatever pace your trainer deems appropriate. The speeds we employ here can be somewhat challenging.'

Jenny didn't get time to ponder those words as a tug on her leash had her shuffling back out of the room and into the corridor once more.

'Now, be a good little filly and trot quickly. That jaw is going to drop when you see what we have in store for you next.' Well, it would if she had the use of it, thought Mark with a slight smirk to himself.

The Training Room

Looking up at the words boldly posted on the next door, her first thought was hadn't they already covered that in the previous room? Pony girls couldn't be expected to lift weights, surely?

Mark stopped as soon as they were inside. 'Well, what do you think?'

She thought that her knees appreciated the cool, smooth parquet wood floor of this room, as the concrete outside had just started to burn, attacking the little gaps between the rope coils. The door was currently obscuring her view of the room but as it slowly receded backwards, her eyes became big and round and goggled at all this room had to offer. There were no weights in sight, but that didn't make her feel in the least bit better.

Jenny was rendered speechless. It was a moot point, as she was gagged, but being a regular Miss Talkative it indicated just how shocked she was. This room should have been called The Dildo Room because there were hundreds of the things everywhere. Rubber ones, plastic ones, fat ones, thin ones, vibrating ones, pulsing ones, thrusting ones and incredibly huge ones. The longest dildo in the room was not based on a human penis. Jenny would have put money on the fact. It was, incredibly, over twenty inches in length. She had no wish to discover what its girth was.

Mark knew where Jenny's eyes had stopped. 'It's pretty impressive, isn't it? It's based on a real horse's penis. Don't worry; we won't start you on that one.' He watched her body shudder. The equine sheath was there for decoration, but she didn't need to know that. He prided himself in keeping trainees off balance and he had barely started with this young little brat.

When Jenny finally managed to tear her eyes away from 'Mr Big' and surveyed the rest of the room, it was the positioning of the dildos that caught her attention. They littered the floor space; dildos, plugs, double-enders, some with controls, some with wires and some which were raised on platform poles. If that wasn't enough, there were more attached to the wall at all kinds of heights. It was all too much to take in. She closed her eyes in disbelief. This had to be a joke, she thought, positive that someone was having lots of fun at her expense.

It was Mark's job to watch his trainee's reaction and like a beady-eyed hawk, he missed nothing. He'd say shock and astonishment covered it, which was normal. She wouldn't be allowed to get away with closing her eyes when she spotted something she didn't like, though. Knowing it was best to nip bad habits in the bud, he pulled the crop from his belt and gave the plug in her backside a firm tap. It had the desired result: she jumped and her eyes flew open. 'You're not allowed to close those baby blues unless you have the permission of your trainer. Nod if you understand,' his voice was curt. He placed the tip of the riding crop on her clitoris and rubbed gently. At the absence of a nod he gave the nub a little lick with the crop. Jenny gave a choked gasp and nodded.

'This room will help you to please your trainer in several ways. You will learn how to take a thick plug in your backside to display the most impressive tail possible, not to mention a nice thick cock or two, should the occasion arise; which I can guarantee it will. You will also work on your sexual performance, which I suspect needs a lot of work. We have machines that will monitor all of those sweet grasping muscles you possess, measure how tight you can squeeze them and for how long. They'll help you improve your technique by teaching you many different types of strokes in order to ensure the maximum pleasure for your trainer and they will work on the strength in your thighs and buttocks. You'll train both your gluteus maximum and quadriceps, among others, so hard that you won't be able to sit down properly for a week. That won't be a problem for the most part, as you won't be allowed to anyway.' He looked down to see if she had taken most of that in. Eyeing the way her face was yet again glued to the enormous horse cock, he knew he had just wasted his breath. No matter, she'd just have to take the crash course when faced with the practical. To grab her attention he clicked his fingers beside her ear.

'Would you like to try one before we leave?' Mark asked, with his pony-special, deadpan expression.

Jenny quickly shook her head and the whites of her eyes were rather more vivid than they should have been.

'You'd like to delay your gratification? My, you learn quickly. We like that here.' Keeping his straight face, he twisted the plug gently in her backside before pumping it in and out three times. A single, soft, strangled groan was his only reply. Women were so much sweeter when they lost the use of their voice, he thought.

Jenny felt her mouth go dry at the pressure being applied
down there
. Her ass clamped around the plug being propelled back and forth and while she was still sore, the feeling was becoming more pleasurable. It was unsettling on many levels. She didn't want to enjoy this and she wanted the damn plug out. There was a nasty thought at the back of her head that the humiliation of crawling on all fours and being paraded around stark naked was turning her on more than it should. That would be another point of interest with which to entertain her therapist.

'You'll be pleased to know that our next room is something very close to your heart, judging by the state of those sculpted eyebrows and absurdly long fingernails.' Mark yanked her leash and all thoughts were forgotten. It was time to move on.

The Grooming Room

As she began to move, Jenny tried to dispel the disconcerting images of the training room with a shake of her head. It wasn't easy. One particular image was going to come back to haunt her again and again. Thankfully, as soon as her knees hit concrete, she had a different problem to focus her mind on: rope burn. Deciding on a new tactic she shuffled forward quickly, but lightly of limb. Putting very little pressure on her joints she lessened the burning sensation somewhat. What a mess this rope was going to make of her pale white flesh! There'd be no tennis sessions until the burns had faded. She'd be the talk of the Hillbeir Tennis Club if she turned up in her whites with what appeared to be carpet burns all over her.

Mark studied the new, somewhat elegant shuffle, and decided the kid was going to be a quick learner. That at least was one point in her corner. He didn't expect her to pick up many more on her initial training runs. 'This is the Grooming Room.'

Jenny growled in response. She wasn't illiterate and the writing on the door was quite big enough to read.

Mark stopped walking abruptly and Jenny, who hadn't noticed and was still moving, nearly choked as the collar tightened around her neck. She made a gurgling noise.

'That's lesson one. Watch your trainer closely.' She had deserved more than just a few seconds of strangled air for the insolent growl, but he'd let someone else deal with that. He had more than enough to do today.

On entering the room Jenny's attention was quickly focused on the floor beneath her. It was strewn with hay. It was prickly beneath her legs and arms and made her shuffle even more difficult, if that were possible. Craning her neck upwards, which wasn't the easiest thing to do in her new, unpleasantly stiff collar, she began to examine the room. It was aptly named. There were five spacious stalls to the rear and a door to the outside world. She assumed this meant that the human ponies were led here directly from outdoors, rather than the interior route she had taken. There were all manner of combs and brushes, such as curry combs, mane combs, dandy brushes and body brushes, not to mention an impressive collection of hoof picks on display. There were plenty of towels, a good supply of hairspray, a few plastic buckets and a large ceramic sink in which to fill the large buckets with water. Before she had a chance to investigate any further, a loud whickering noise filtered through the air.

The sound made Jenny start, as all the rooms they had explored so far had been empty and silent. Mark's grip was firm on her leash and his casual stance indicated that the sound was not a threat. Then the smell of sweat and mud hit her nostrils, followed by the sight of a naked pony girl in full tack tossing her head to and fro. Jenny was stunned. A woman had made that noise?

'Good afternoon, Daniel,' said Mark, and turning he gave a cursory nod to the labouring pony. 'Peaches.'

'Afternoon, Mark, beautiful day for a ride, wouldn't you say?'

'Isn't every day?' he replied, and added, 'Where's her twin?'

'Cream? I believe she's a bit tied up.' Daniel winked.

'Ah, you've gotta love the bondage ponies,' said Mark wistfully. He had a thing for rope.

'So, what's the new pony's name?'

'She hasn't got one yet.'

The voices continued with pleasantries, but Jenny was no longer listening. They wanted to change her name to some stupid horse nickname? Over her dead body! Still, she'd be out of here tomorrow, so they could call her what they liked until then. Unable to stop them, her eyes settled on Peaches whose backside was prominently displayed in all its naked glory, albeit splattered with a good covering of mud. She kept trying to glance away, but the sight was arresting and before she knew it she was carefully examining every single inch of the now tethered girl.

'The pony girl was wearing a striking emerald-green collar, much thinner than Jenny's. Her blonde hair was elaborately plaited with green threads and the ends had been tucked neatly away. Her face sported a studded black leather bridle, one band of which circled her forehead and another two coming down from the forehead band, which, combined with her rubber bit, made an 'A' shape across her face. More studded leather straps reached down from her collar to encircle her breasts in a diamond shape and then ran down her navel to split in two, and these straps were fed through each side of her labia. A big, bushy, blonde tail protruded from her ass and Jenny was afraid she knew exactly how it was anchored. The leather straps ran around the tail and then straight up to wrap around her two cuffed hands which were folded neatly, one on top of the other. Her feet had been placed in ankle length, rubberised pony hooves. Jenny trembled. Was this what they meant to do to her? She couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be bound in such an exposed, yet intricate manner and under the complete control of another. Unbelievably, the thought made her wet. She had to start reciting French vocabulary again, in order to tamp down her body's response.

'The sight arouses you, doesn't it?' asked Mark, whose eyes had carefully watched every single nuance on Jenny's face as she took in the shiny leather tack of the pony girl.

Jenny shook her head briskly in response.

'Liar.'

The nerve of the man, she thought, and gave another irritated shake of her head.

'You want me to prove it to you?' Mark's eyes lit up as he bent down and let his fingers trace a delicate path up Jenny's left inner thigh, which was already slightly sticky. Without warning he thrust two fingers easily into the core of her body and rocked them up and down. Pulling them out slowly he displayed them in front of her face, so his trainee could see and smell her own arousal on them. 'You're dripping wet. Case closed.' He wiped his sticky fingers clean by painting the word
Liar
on her back with them. He recited the letters one by one, knowing it would rile her.