Read Named and Shamed Online

Authors: C. P. Mandara

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance

Named and Shamed (2 page)

Four naked pony girls took it upon themselves to pin her down and then promptly sat on her. One positioned herself on her chest, another her waist, and the last two took a thigh each. The air in her lungs whooshed out in a painful gasp. Who needed restraints?

'My name's Creamy Dream,' said the naked pony on her chest, 'but you can call me CD. Who might you be?'

'I didn't think we were supposed to talk?' Jenny wheezed out the sentence, finding conversation was somewhat painful when you had a good-sized backside pressing all of its weight into your intestines.

'Oh, as long as we keep the volume down we can pretty much say what we like in here. Of course, it's a different matter when the grooms get here tomorrow morning. The good news is that there are quite a few hours between now and tomorrow morning and we get bored with the same old, same old. So, what's your name?'

'Jenny,' she croaked.

'Henny? That's an interesting name for a pony. Much better suited to poultry, I'd think,' mused CD.

Jenny didn't have the strength or the necessary volume of air in her lungs to argue the mistake.

'Does she have a golden egg?' This came from the pony on her left thigh, whose rather hard buttocks were overlapping each side of her leg.

'Henny certainly would be rather more an appropriate name if she did,' replied CD.

'That was a goose, silly,' said right thigh, rolling her eyes.

'I'd always thought it was a hen.'

'When was the last time we saw an egg?' asked the red-headed pony on her chest, anxious for the conversation to turn the corner.

'A very, very long time ago,' said CD, 'and I'm sure Henny won't have one.'

'I'll volunteer to go check,' drawled a blonde pony, sitting in the corner and chewing on a blade of straw in a rather bored fashion. She slowly meandered forward on her hands and knees. Even though she was completely devoid of make-up she was clearly beautiful, with flawless skin and elegant cheekbones that would make even Katharine Hepburn's pale in comparison.

Jenny paid no attention to her. Now her eyes were becoming accustomed to the dark interior she was sizing-up her surroundings. The stable block was divided into several smaller stalls at the rear, perhaps twelve in total, and each featured a heavy wooden door. All were currently closed. Even though the doors were thick and well-built, muffled sounds could be heard filtering through them, some of which were pleasure and others which were not. The floor was made up of tightly compacted earth and strewn with a generous few inches of hay. There were several stone troughs, similar to the ones she had fed and drank from earlier, and these were positioned against a brick wall to the right. The left wall displayed an array of restraints, such as handcuffs, metal hoops and ropes, which were embedded into the red blocks with large steel screws. That wasn't all her eyes had managed to spot. Two naked pony girls had been strung up in the ample restraints by their necks, legs, thighs and arms. One had been gagged and blindfolded, and the other had her face dressed in a glossy black hood, with nothing more than two little holes under her nostrils to breathe through. While the gagged one struggled weakly in her bonds the other had fallen limp in hers, obviously asleep, from the gentle swell of her chest at regular intervals.

Meanwhile the blonde had made good progress. Nearing the V of Jenny's open legs and seeing where the newbie's eyes were headed, she smiled. 'That's one of the better punishments, Henny,' she drawled. 'You wait till you see what's inside those stalls behind you. They get progressively worse the further you move down the line, which in turn means the less sleep you're likely to achieve in them.' Her eyes sparkled with mischief. 'Now I'm just going to nestle myself between your legs, darlin, so make yourself comfortable.'

The woman was as good as her word. Her shiny, satin tresses tickled Jenny's thighs as she dipped her head towards the freshly shaven mound. Oh, her hair! She had forgotten all about the massacred mess on top of her head but it was impossible to stay miserable for long. When Beauty inhaled deeply, at the apex of her legs, she found herself quivering. She had no idea whether this was going to be pleasure or torture and if was going to be pleasure, mightn't that be a torture all in itself?

'So soft, smooth and pretty,' Beauty crooned, letting her tongue dip towards the naked and fleshy lips of her pussy. Her tongue fluttered in gentle butterfly kisses, tracing the silken line of Jenny's labia and savouring the heady aroma of lavender and musk. She then traced a pretty line around the flower plug embedded in Jenny's butt and used her teeth to pull it slowly in and out, several times over. Ponies rarely had any scent other than that of mud, muck or sweat to savour, so this was a special treat for her. Overwhelmed by the sweet smell, the blonde opened her mouth wide and suckled at the source of the fragrant nectar.

'Beauty, stop being greedy. We all want a go. Has she got an egg or not?' CD sounded rather ticked off.

Right thigh groaned. 'She won't have an egg. It's been years since someone around here had an egg. Is it my turn to have a suck yet?'

Beauty sighed. She disengaged her mouth from its succulent resting place and let her tongue poke out prettily. It was the longest tongue in the stables and she had gained an impressive reputation with its use. Gently parting the folds of Jenny's pussy and delving around the outer edges quickly confirmed what CD was so anxious to know. Pulling away reluctantly, not unlike a cat which had just slurped at a bowl of cream, Beauty licked her lips in satisfaction and whispered, 'She's got an egg.'

The only person in the room not to take a quick indrawn breath was Jenny, and the reason for that was twofold: firstly she had no idea what they were on about and secondly, it was a near impossible feat with two people sitting on her torso.

'Oh well, that changes things,' said CD, somewhat obliquely.

Jenny was no longer listening to a word that was being said. Air was becoming a very important commodity. 'Can't breathe,' she rasped.

'You'll get used to that,' said CD, blithely unconcerned. 'Just you wait until you're corseted tomorrow. Your stomach will feel like someone's wrapped a live anaconda around it.'

'Speaking of snakes,' said left thigh, 'did you know that a snake has to digest its prey really quickly, because if it starts to rot they have to regurgitate it or the resulting bacteria will cause food poisoning?'

'Our thanks to Miss Zoology in the left-hand corner,' said CD with her best forced smile. 'Let's move swiftly on, shall we?'

'Can I assume that because of her egg we won't be going down the traditional initiation route?' Beauty was using her lithe tongue to lap every last trace of Jenny's sweetness from her lips.

'Henny, can you remember exactly what the ponies said to you, in regards to your egg?' CD began chewing her nails thoughtfully.

Lucky her, thought Jenny, whose hands were sweating uncomfortably, bundled up in the tight leather mittens she had been forced to wear. 'Um, MG,' Jenny had to pause to suck in air, 'said something about,' another pause and another strangled breath, 'no unauthorised... orgasms.' She was beginning to feel lightheaded and nauseous. She had no idea whether it was due to lack of circulation, lack of breathable air or the side-effects of the pain killers which had been administered.

'Do you remember what the punishment was for failing?' CD bestowed a severe look upon the trainee, which she hoped would indicate how important the question was.

'No,' replied Jenny, who had her own concerns at the moment, such as trying to remain conscious.

'Damn,' muttered CD, and she promptly slithered off Jenny and began to pace, or what counted as pacing for pony girls, which was, of course, crawling.

Thankfully, the others followed her lead. Jenny's eyes just about managed to pop back into their sockets and she sucked in several great lungfuls of air.

'All right, horsies, here's the plan,' said CD in an authoritative tone. 'We probably don't want to risk a group punishment, so instead of everyone working over the trainee and being rewarded with an orgasm in turn, we'll have to adjust our procedure slightly.' A collective groan fanned around the room.

'The trainee will be allowed to perform an enthusiastic welcome to each one of us by demonstrating her oral skills. It's in our interests to make sure she perfects them as soon as possible. Each pony will then be allowed a few laps at the trainee, wherever they might take her fancy, but we must be careful to ensure that she does not climax.'

What, what, what? If Jenny had just heard that correctly, they were intending to turn her into a lesbian and then torture her with the newfound knowledge. She squirmed on the prickly hay and managed, with some concentrated effort, to flip herself over and resume her crawling stance.

'Um, ladies, I don't do... that.' Jenny waved a mittened paw in the air for emphasis. More ponies were joining the fray now; ones who had been previously snuggled down for the night, judging by the bits of straw that poked out of their hair in scarecrow fashion. There were a few sniggers, some sideways glances and the odd whinny of amusement.

'You do now,' said Beauty, and she sat up, crossed her arms over her generously proportioned breasts and parted her thighs in invitation. 'I've had my three laps, so I guess I'll go first,' she purred.

'No, no, you don't understand,' said Jenny, backing away as fast as her tight and rubbery pony-boots would allow. 'I'm going to be rescued tomorrow.'

There was a long pause before the stable erupted in riotous laughter. Some of the ponies were laughing so hard they had to sit down and wipe tears from their eyes.

'Sit on her, Beauty, and we'll hold her down for you,' said CD, rolling her eyes. She looked rather disgusted with the protégé that appeared to have landed into her care.

Jenny found herself tumbled once again, which wasn't really hard considering she didn't have proper use of either her legs or arms, and the same ponies sat in their respective corners. This time however, there was yet another obstacle to overcome. Beauty was lowering her...
bits
... slowly down towards her face. When her knees pressed tightly against either side of her head, making sure she couldn't move an inch, she pressed the slippery folds of her pussy directly onto Jenny's mouth.

'You don't get to breathe until you do the business,' said CD ominously, once again sitting atop Jenny's chest.

Jenny didn't realise, until quite some time later, that it hadn't been an idle threat.

 

Disaster Averted

 

He caught the cup neatly in one hand and by following the direction of the moving liquid, managed to contain the imminent disaster which threatened. A few drops of coffee sailed over the rim and sloshed around in the saucer. No matter; he'd make sure they were not wasted. Setting the cup back on his desk and returning his attention to the employee before him, he studied her expression. Marianna's face was a picture: Edvard Munch's
Scream
, to be exact. Her jaw was slack in horror, her eyes so wide her eyelids had almost lost themselves in the back of her head and her hands flailed around madly. She began stammering.

'I'm s-so sorry, Mr Matthews. I mean, S-s-s-sir.'

Mark sat back in his seat and had to work hard at keeping his grin in check. This was priceless. She had just delivered her pretty little backside on a platter for his delectation. How adorable this one was. Why had he not used her before? It took a few moments to compose himself before he could locate the stern tone needed with which to chastise her.

'You've made not one but two grave mistakes within seconds, my dear. What shall I do with you?' He let the open question settle in the silence of the office. As expected, she made no response. She did manage to sink to her knees once more and resume her stance of supplication, which was, he conceded, an apology of sorts.

'To make amends, Marianna, you will roll up your skirt and place your backside over my desk, so I may do whatever I wish with it. You will then lap up the contents of this saucer, as I hate to waste good coffee. After you have accomplished both feats you will return to the kitchen to fetch me another cup and we will begin again. I trust you will be more careful if given a second chance?' Though she couldn't see the dark look he directed at her, he knew his words had affected her by the way her fingers tightened into claws around her elbows, which were once again placed behind her back.

'Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,' she whispered. Getting to her feet, somewhat unsteadily, she kept her eyes downcast as she approached his desk. It was a pity, as he would have quite liked to have seen the expression of apprehension, or perhaps even fear, which might have lingered there.

'Well, get on with it,' and he pushed back the castors of his chair to allow her to pass in front of him. His impatient tone was not lost on her. Practically flinging her body over his desk he watched her shaking hands as they reached down to grip the hem of her skirt. As they slowly rolled the fabric upwards he realised that the pace of her fingers was not purposefully tantalising, because she fumbled more than once at her task.

'Are you nervous?' Her hands faltered yet again, but quickly resumed the act of displaying the beginnings of a very pert set of buttocks.

'Yes,' her voice was throaty. She appeared to take control of herself and began rolling the material with renewed purpose.

'Your tanned flesh is beautiful. I'm going to enjoy taking that backside later. When was the last time you indulged in anal sex, Marianna?' He was being mean and he knew it, but watching her squirm uncomfortably on the desk, he wanted to know if he aroused her.

'When I was under the instruction of James Entwell, Sir, about two years ago.'

Good Lord, had she been in his office that long? He wondered who'd had the pleasure of using her. Without realising it he found he'd asked the question out loud, because the next thing he knew she was answering it.

'No one Sir, since my induction about eighteen months ago.'

'You mean to tell me that you have had no penetrative sex in eighteen months?' Mark's voice was somewhat incredulous and he shook his head in amazement. Surely that little snippet of information couldn't be true. Distracted for a moment he watched as the uppermost curve of her ass was gradually revealed and his cock was pulsing in his trousers. He suspected that Marianna's body would have to be fucked several times and in many different ways for it to be sated. If she'd really gone eighteen months without sex he'd have to go gentle, dammit.

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