The Mayor's Daughter: Draft Pony (10 page)

Jessica
looked fearfully around the room, her heart pounding in her chest. Where
before had stood the bathtub and other implements of her torture, now there was
a trio of copper tubes, set up parallel to the ground and to each other. The
two outside tubes were a couple feet apart from each other, and held aloft on
posts at about waist level. The one between them was closer to the ground,
set at perhaps mid-thigh. She saw that electrical wires led from each of
the tubes to a box on the ground.

“You will get
three tries to high-step to the other side, Princess,” her captor spoke,
grinning as he led her to stand at one end of the tubes. “If you fail all three
times, you return to the wheel.”

“High-step?” Jessica
asked quietly, her voice a whimper, stepping forward at her captor’s direction
to stand straddling the center tube with the other two on her sides.

“Yes,
Princess.” He smiled, pushing her hair back out of her eyes, and lifting
her leg until her thigh was parallel to the ground, knee bent. “With each step,
these beautiful thighs must come at least this high.”

“L-like… like
a show pony,” she whimpered softly, feeling new tears beginning to well in
her eyes.

“Exactly like
a show pony, Princess.” He set her foot back down as he spoke. “If you
touch any of the poles, or if you don’t finish within 15 seconds, the run is
disqualified.”

“I’m not… I’m
not… You can’t make me an animal,” she sobbed, mind focusing in with laser
precision on exactly what she was submitting to.

“Oh, but I
can, Princess.” He grinned, giving her ass a firm swat. “It’s already
begun.”

Jessica
turned away from him to look ahead at the distance before her, steadying her
trembling legs and perfecting her balance. She hated the thought of it,
and what it signified, but she needed to do this in order to avoid another turn
at the wheel. As tired as she already was, she couldn’t conceive of the
idea of trying to push it and avoid its wicked shocks again.

“Begin,” her
captor announced.

She raised
her foot carefully, lifting it as he had demonstrated. She quickly stepped back
down a little ahead of where it had started as she began to lose her
balance. Slightly off kilter, she lifted her other foot, teetering as it came
to its proper height. As she brought it down, the inside of her thigh
brushed the copper tube between her legs, and she cried out in pain as a jolt
of electricity flashed into her. Jerking away from the touch of the pole
caused her to bump her hip against the outside pole on that side, which
delivered its own shock. Screaming in pain and frustration as she
continued to jerk under the assaults of the poles, she struggled to calm
herself. A thin sheen of sweat coated her body as she finally came to rest
straddling the pole again without touching it, panting for breath as she
sobbed.

“That’s one
attempt lost, Princess,” her captor spoke from across the room. “And you
haven’t even made any headway.”

“You fucking
son of a bitch!” she half screamed, half sobbed at his words, shaking with
anger.  

“Awww… poor
Princess,” he laughed, “but is this really how you want to spend the time
for your second attempt?”

Sobbing,
beads of perspiration forming on her petite body, she started to move quickly,
taking the first two steps forward. Terrified of the pole between her
legs, she kept her legs as wide as she could, making it even harder to balance. Teetering
with each step, she cried out in fear as she tumbled sideways into the right
rail, another jolt leaping into her flesh as she screamed. This time, she
forced herself to the blow without flailing, avoiding more contact with the
center pole.

“This time
you’ll have to back up, Princess. You’ll need to start from the beginning.”

Whimpering
softly, she backed up slowly, shuffling her feet more than walking, until she was
back at the starting point. She gasped as a drip of sweat fell from
between her thighs and onto the highly charged bar between her legs, a slight
tingle of electricity traveling instantaneously up it and into her body at the
sudden semi-contact.

“And, begin.”

Jessica
surged forward at the command, concentrating on her balance and on the location
of the poles, the first three steps coming down confidently. With each
further step, however, she felt herself tipping forward, gradually losing
control of her high steps. Halfway down the pipe, her hoofed toe came down
wrong, pitching her forward. The bare lips of her pussy hit the pole
between her legs and a primal scream ripped through her as she threw back her
head. Instinctively, she brought her thighs together, clutching the tube
to avoid falling further, but intensifying the surge of electricity that pulsed
into her most sensitive area. Spasming, she unclenched her thighs with
great difficulty, allowing herself to fall to the floor beneath the tubes with
an uncomfortable thud. Twitching and shuddering, gasping for breath, she
curled into a ball on the floor as she sobbed.

“It looks
like you’ll have to try again another day, Princess.”  

“No,
please.  Please don’t do this…”

Jessica
screamed as he grabbed her hair and dragged her across the floor. She
cursed him, nearly incoherently, her scalp burning with pain, as he pulled her
after him. At the dreaded wheel, he lifted her painfully to her
feet. She saw that the harness and straps were waiting there already.

“You knew I
couldn’t do it, you sick son of a bitch,” she spat at him as he turned her
roughly and began to wrap the leather harness once more around her body. “It’s
impossible.”

“Such
violence and anger out of such a nice little girl,” he laughed as he
buckled the harness tightly back into place on her body, including the thick
leather collar that so effectively controlled her neck. “And yes, I was pretty
sure that you couldn’t do it, at least not yet.”  

“God damn it,
why are you doing this to me?!” she shrieked as she felt him apply the
head harness to her, with its wide blinders. “He’ll pay you. I swear, he’ll
pay you. You don’t have to do this.”

“And what if
I told you, Princess, that I don’t expect him to pay me?” he hissed in her ear
as he attached her straps to the arm of the wheel.

“Wh-what do
you mean?” she whimpered. “He will. He won’t leave me like this.”

“But what if
I told you that I wasn’t going to even ask?”

“What?” She
jerked against the straps, eyes wide. “But why not?”

Finished
strapping her in place, once more bound to the spoke of the wheel, he ran his
hands over her sweat-covered flesh and up to her lips, where he held the nasty
metal bit in front of her mouth.  

“I had meant
to keep this little secret for later, Princess, but there is no ransom.”  

“Then what
the –Uuuhhhkkk” Her words were cut off by the thrust of the gag into her mouth,
and she felt the pressure of the heavy rubber bands return a moment later,
forcing her to once again clench her teeth on the hard metal.
 

“Dear old
Daddy already paid me, little Jessie,” he whispered to her, his hot breath
on her ear. “He paid me to get rid of his little problem child.”

Sobbing,
Jessica shook her head as much as the stiff collar allowed, refusing to believe
his words.

“You see,
Princess, you’re mine now.” He groped her breasts roughly with his hands.
“No one is looking for you, and we’re going to have quite a lot of fun
together. But I’ll leave you digest all that.”

Stepping away
from her, he set the wheel in motion once more, the prod-loaded arm beginning
to move away ahead of her. Sobbing, Jessica threw herself against the
leather harness, heaving it forward with great effort. As she began her
exhausting trek, she found herself somehow grateful for the work, allowing her
to concentrate on something other than his last words to her. Could it be
true? No, her father couldn’t have done this to her, of that she was sure. But
what about the ransom? She trembled at the thought. Was he really
planning to keep her?

Jessica’s
mind was a hazy web of exhaustion and misery, her legs trembling like a bowl of
Jell-O, when her time at the wheel finally came to an end. She had long
ago lost any semblance of an understanding of time, concentrating only on
driving as hard as she could against the traces that bound her. Twice, the
prod had caught her, stinging her harshly, though she took some satisfaction
from the fact that she had managed to drive away from it after each blow,
instead of collapsing as she had done previously. Her arduous journey to
nowhere finally at an end, she could only dangle in the straps as her captor
released her, gathering her limp body up into his arms and carrying her so
easily.

She was
barely conscious, sweat-soaked and bone-weary, as he set her down gently on a
soft, padded table. She wanted nothing more than to sink into the soft
material and sleep, but he kept her moving, turning her this way and that as he
gradually removed the many leather straps from her body. When she was
wearing only the boots and mittens once more, he turned her onto her stomach
and drew her arms behind her back. She winced as she heard the familiar
ratcheting sound and felt the cold steel cuffs close on her wrists.

“Do you think
you can be a good girl tonight?” her captor asked, his hand on her bare
arms, rubbing them softly. “I have an easy night in mind for you, if you can
behave.”

“Please, I
just want to go home,” Jessica sobbed helplessly, feeling utterly spent. “I
can’t… I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want
to be tied up any more.”

“If you’re
going to make it, Princess, you’re going to have to stop looking at the big
picture,” he responded, his voice soothing and gentle, his hands moving to
massage her shoulders. “You need to focus on the bearable moments that you will
be afforded from time to time, and learn to live for those.”

“But how?” she
sobbed, her body heaving. “You told me you’re never going to let me go. There’s
no ransom. There’s no way home. You’re… you’re turning me into some
kind of sick animal.”

“Would you
like me to take the mitts off your hands?”  His hands moved down over her
sides as he spoke, caressing her smooth hips. “And the boots off your feet?”

“Oh God yes,
please.”

“That’s how,
Princess,” he continued softly as he began to unbuckle the straps on her
wrists. “Don’t think of leaving here. Don’t think of home. Think
instead of the times here that will be better than others.”

Jessica
sobbed with relief as she felt the tight leather mittens come free of her
hands. Her fingers ached from the long confinement as she slowly spread
them. The pain and discomfort was a small price to pay, however, to have
her hands back, though still locked in handcuffs behind her back.

“Thank you. Oh,
thank you,” she sobbed, genuinely grateful.

“If you can
be a good girl tonight, you will be only lightly bound for the evening,” he
told her as he began to unlace her boots. “And you’ll be given some actual
clothing to wear. Would you like that, Princess?”

“Yes, please,” she
answered softly as he removed the first boot.

“Then, you
can be a good girl?” He moved to her second foot as she stretched the
first, feeling the arch threatening to cramp when she started to un-point her
toes.

“I
will. I’ll be good.”

Finished with
the second boot, leaving her only wearing the cuffs now, he lifted her
again. She huddled against him as he carried her across the room, her body
trembling with exhaustion and chill, so desperate for precious sleep and yet
kept awake by fear of what was to come. She opened her eyes again when he
stopped, and her body tensed as she saw that she was being lowered into the
familiar porcelain tub. She was overwhelmed with relief as the water
within turned out to be hot.

“See,
Princess?” he whispered softly, noting her relief, as he began to wash her
body with a soft sponge. “It doesn’t all have to be bad.”

Jessica
watched as he washed her with a lathered sponge, scared but grateful for the
gentle touch and the soothing water. He lifted her smooth legs, and she
held herself upright with her cuffed hands against the bottom of the basin as
he ran the soapy sponge up and down her thighs and calves. His gentle
touch was both welcome and frightening, and her naked state was made more
pronounced than ever by the way he touched her. She tensed, whimpering
softly, as the sponge slid beneath the surface of the water and began to glide
between her legs.

“You need to
relax, Princess,” he cooed as he spread her legs slightly, and glided the
sponge over the lips of her pussy. “Don’t think about what is happening, and
how the old you would have reacted. Concentrate on how it feels, and how
it soothes you. Enjoy the moment while it is here.”

Closing her
eyes, Jessica tried to send her mind somewhere else as the sponge continued to
roam over her body. It felt wonderful, the water seeming to wash away the
brutal tortures of her captivity. She didn’t resist as he gently lowered
her hair into the water and caressed her scalp as he shampooed her. Lying
in the steaming water, her sweat and grime washing away, she could almost
forget the tight cuffs on her wrists, and the fact that it was her kidnapper
doing the washing.

“Have you
ever acted, Princess?” he asked as he rinsed the shampoo from her hair and
began to help her up onto her feet. “Been in a play?”

“A play?” she
asked, the question seeming entirely out of place as she rose reluctantly to
her feet. “I was in a few, for the High School Drama Club.”

“Oh
good. That should be a big help to you then.” He smiled as he helped
her step from the tub onto the cold concrete floor.

“Why? Help
with what?” She shivered slightly as she spoke, chilled by the cool air
and her damp state.

“You have a
role to play now, Princess, and it’s a very important one.” He smiled down
on her as he led her across the room, holding tight to her upper arm.

“What role?” She
asked, feeling impossibly small as she walked next to him, still exhausted, but
feeling better now that she was clean and so much less stringently bound.

“We’re going
to make a little introductory video, Princess,” he continued as he led her
back to where her introduction to this place had occurred, a sturdy wooden
chair sitting in the center of the area, with a few video cameras pointing at
it. On a nearby table, she saw a make-up case, a pile of clothes, towels,
and a pair of soft brown suede sheepskin lined boots.

“An
introduction to what?” she asked, her pace quickening.

“To your new
website, of course, Princess,” he answered easily as they reached the table
and he picked up a towel. “The preorders for membership have already been
amazing. Your birthday party shots were quite a hit.”

“You posted…
you posted pictures of… of… of what you did to me on the NET?!” she
demanded angrily as he dried her body roughly with the towel.

“Oh no,
Princess,” he laughed as he rubbed the towel across her breasts and
stomach. “I sold pictures of you on the net. There’s a big difference, at
least from my point of view.”

“You sick
bastard… you can’t do this…”  She trembled in outrage as he continued
to dry her body, her wrists squirming in the tight metal cuffs. She wanted
to run, to flee while her legs were free, but where would she
go?  How would she get out with her hands trapped behind her?

“Now now,
Princess, is that any way to talk to me?” He glared at her as he
towel-dried her hair and then dropped the towel on the table. “Besides, of
course I can. I already did. But what’s important for you is that if
you cooperate for the video, you get to spend some time dressed, sit at a table
for dinner, and then sleep in a bed tonight.”

“And what do
I have to do in the video?” she asked fearfully.

“Oh, nothing
so terrible. You just need to convince whoever watches it that you are
here of your own free will, that you enjoy these things, and that you’ve surrendered
yourself to me for a one year period of bondage and training.”

“Wh-what?” she
demanded. “No, I won’t do it!”

“Then I’ll
hook you back up to the wheel and let the prod chase you until you change your
mind.”

“God damn it! You
can’t do this to me!” Jessica shrieked, hot tears streaming from her eyes
as frustration filled her.  

He drew her
close to him, his fingers twined in her hair, her bare breasts heaving against
his chest as she sobbed helplessly. His free hand slid down her back,
coming to rest against the small of it, keeping her petite body pressed close
to him.

“Just relax,
Princess,” he spoke softly, soothingly. “Focus on how nice it will feel to
have something to wear, even temporarily. What it will be like to be able
to relax and have a nice dinner. And all in return for a few words.”

“But I don’t
want… don’t want to stay here,” she sobbed, gasping for air between the
words as depression overwhelmed her. “I just… I just…”

“You don’t
have a choice, Princess. You can’t escape. You can’t resist me. You
can only do the things that will make your stay here less horrible. You
need to come to accept that.”

“But… but… it’s
not… it’s not fair…,” she choked on the words.

“Would you
like to be dressed, Princess?”

Biting her
lower lip, Jessica could only nod in response as she cried helplessly. She
hated herself for accepting the offer, understanding what accompanied it, but
the scared, realistic part of her mind realized that he was right. Resistance
would only bring more pain, more time at the wheel, and she couldn’t bear the
thought of it. He picked up a worn khaki skirt from the table and held it
low so that she could step into it. Slowly, he drew it up her legs, his
hands lingering on her thighs for a moment before he covered the tops of them
with the soft, faded material. She winced as he buckled the skirt’s
leather belt tightly around her waist, and then she heard the familiar click of
a lock from behind her.

“It looks
like a good fit, Princess,” he spoke, moving around in front of her to
look at her as he smiled.

“A little
tight,” she replied, looking down over the tiny skirt and the exposed
flesh of her thighs. While it was definitely much more revealing than she
would have normally worn, she couldn’t help but feel better to be, at least
partially, covered.

“I’m sorry
for that, Princess,” he chuckled softly as he lifted another pair of
handcuffs from the table and approached her again. “But it will become
necessary in a little while.”

Squatting
down next to her and taking hold of one of her bare, slender ankles, he closed
one of the open cuffs onto a ring set in the floor. She watched helplessly
as he closed the other cuff over her ankle, the metal ratcheting closed tightly
against her flesh. She tugged at the tight cuff, finding it as confining
as ever, as he rose to his feet and opened the makeup case. Withdrawing a
couple baby-wipes from it, he began to wipe her face, her nose wrinkling at the
scent as he cleaned away her tears. She was silent as he applied make-up
to her face, brushing blush onto her cheeks, and painting her lips and eyelids.

“You know,
you really are a stunning young woman, Princess,” he spoke softly, and she
was glad that she couldn’t see the look on his face, her eyes closed while he
applied mascara to her lashes.

Jessica felt
horribly vulnerable and helpless as her captor dressed her and made up her
face. As much as she hated the feeling of dependency, though, it did make
her feel that her humanity was returning to her in some small fashion. She
couldn’t help but feel that things were getting better for her. Perhaps
she could convince him to continue this leniency, she told herself as he began
to brush out her hair. Perhaps she could bring the horrible pony games to an
end.

“Th-thank
you,” she whispered softly, shyly, as he finished with her hair and then
unlocked her wrists.

“You’re
welcome, Princess.” He smiled warmly at her, gazing into her eyes, and
then handing her a piece of clothing. “Put that on.”

Opening the
cloth, she discovered that it was a camouflage tank top. She quickly slipped it
over her head, its short hem leaving more than her bellybutton exposed. It
felt so good to be dressed, albeit ridiculously, that she forgot the cuff on
her ankle for a moment. An attempted step reminded her that any freedom
she felt at the moment was only illusory. She watched her captor move to
one of the waiting video cameras.

“Now,
Princess, the critical thing about this exercise is that you make the camera
believe that you are having a wonderful time throughout our little interview,” he
told her, moving behind the camera to turn it to face her. “You must follow the
instructions I give perfectly. If I don’t like how you come across the
first time, we will repeat it until you get it right. If we don’t finish
in a reasonable time, we will have to skip dinner. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Good. Now,
let’s start with a playful little spin,” he ordered, and she saw the red light
on the camera turn on.