The Mayor's Daughter: Draft Pony (14 page)

Jessica woke
without realizing she’d fallen asleep, still lying in the scratchy hay on the
floor of the post room. The room was dark now, and she looked about
quickly as her eyes adjusted to it, seeking any sign that she was not alone. Her
only companions in the dim room, however, were the ever-present red lights of
the video cameras. She rose slowly up onto her knees before the wooden
troughs, her heavy boots clattering on the floor as she got them beneath
her. As she tried once more to free her mittened hands from where they
were held up uncomfortably behind her back, she wondered how long she’d been
asleep.

It felt as
though she’d been asleep for some time, judging by the fact that, in spite of
her continuing restraint, she felt refreshed. Without any way of knowing
how long she’d have before her captor’s return, she lowered her face to the
porridge waiting in its wooden host. It was hard to get her lips into the
gruel with the thick posture collar around her neck, and she had to slurp at it
as best she could. The dull sludge sated her hunger, and she forced
herself to eat until she could handle no more, realizing that she had no idea
how long it would be before she would eat again. That simple thought
brought fresh tears to her eyes, and they dripped down her nose into the water
trough as she drank her fill. She tried to think of anything but her utter
reliance on her kidnapper, but was consumed by it.  

“You can’t do
this to me!” she screamed through her tears as wracking sobs overtook her,
leaning forward against the trough.

Jessica
Miller was dead to the world, she realized, and replaced by the fictional
Sierra. Her only contact with the outside world now came through the sick
bastards that paid to see what her captor did to her. In their minds, she was
here willingly, thanks to the little introduction she’d helped him make. She
focused on that thought, trying to find hope in it. She had contact with
the outside world. People saw her, and heard her. Maybe someone would
recognize her.
 

But who would
recognize her like this? Who did she know that would possibly be looking for something
like this on the web? Even if they were looking, would they even conceive that
this could really be the Jessica Miller they knew? No, it wasn’t going to happen
by chance. But, if she could find some way to slip something past her captor
that could let them know that her willingness was a lie, she might be able to
find a way free of this hell. She focused on that with all of her will.

Rising from
the trough onto wobbly legs, she turned her body to look with trepidation at
the metal bucket that sat next to it on the ground. It looked just like
the one in which he’d tossed her clothes on that first night, and she
approached it sheepishly, as if it were a living thing that would attack
her. She hated the thought of using it, but her bladder ached insistently,
and she questioned whether she would ever see a real toilet again. The
chain from her ankle gave her just enough slack that she could straddle it, and
she carefully lowered herself into a squat over it as her thighs trembled with
the exertion. She had to keep contact with the bucket on the insides of
her legs in order to know where it was, unable to look down with the collar
holding her neck securely in place.

Jessica
blushed crimson with shame as the sharp sound of her urine against the tin
bucket filled the room. She tried to adjust herself to minimize the light
splatter of it that she felt against her flesh, but squatting in the precarious
boots was enough of a challenge, and she was forced to suffer it. She
sighed softly with relief, despite her humiliation, as the pressure on her
bladder finally faded away. The smell of it mixed with the odor from her body
and she wrinkled her nose. She felt disgusting, like some sort of dirty
beast.

Suddenly, a
brilliant light flashed on above her, glaring down into her eyes. She
jerked with surprise at the sudden intense glow, losing her balance as she
pulled on her bonds. Toppling backwards, she hit the ground on her bound hands. The
bucket fell over with a clatter of metal as she struck it with one of her boots
as she fell, and she cried out in misery as she felt the hot piss on her bare
legs. Struggling up onto her knees in a pool of the vile liquid, she saw
her captor approaching, dressed once more in all black, and carrying a black
leather belt in his hands.

“Did you have
another accident, Sierra?” he asked, his grin standing out starkly against
his black mask. “You’re such a filthy pony.”

“My name is
Jessica,” she spoke, trying to sound more confident than she felt.
 
She forced herself back up onto her feet, her
voice cracking as she continued, “and I am n-not a pony.”

She trembled
visibly as she stood before him in her leather harness, backed as far away as
the chain from her ankle would allow. He reached up to roughly grasp the
ring on the back of her collar, and she whimpered softly, hating herself for
the pathetic sound as it escaped her. He used the ring to turn her until
she could no longer see him past the blinders that obscured her peripheral
vision. Jessica gasped with relief as he released the locks that held her
wrists to the harness, feeling them ache as he lowered them for the first time
in what seemed like an eternity.

“Y-you were
mad at me last night, or this morning or whatever it was,” she spoke
softly, grasping for some means to reach him. He drew her wrists down and
re-attached them to a lower point of the harness, side by side at the small of
her back. “I must have done something wrong, something to spoil your shoot. If
you tell me what you w-want from me, we could… we could work together, and you
could make more money.”

“You want to
be my partner now, Princess?” he chuckled, and she winced as his hands
moved up along her forearms behind her, drawing them together behind her back.
“Starting to enjoy your life?”

“I’m just trying
to come to terms with it,” she answered quietly, hoping to strike a chord
with him by using his own words. “There’s no way for me to escape, right? So
I should try to find a way to make it b-bearable.”

He didn’t
respond, and Jessica bit her trembling lower lip to hold back more tears as she
felt the leather belt wrap twice around her upper arms before he buckled it
tightly. The addition of the belt, and the change from her usual position
that they represented, frightened her Then he pulled her close, wrapping
one arm around her waist as he pressed her trapped arms into his body. A
strangled sob erupted through her body as he held the metal bit back up to her
lips. She opened her mouth dutifully to hold it between her teeth. There
was no point in resisting. She felt the pressure increase as he re-attached the
dreaded bands.

“I was mad
yesterday,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers played lightly over her
belly between the straps of the harness she wore, “but it wasn’t because of
anything you did.”

Jessica
snorted softly as he squatted behind her, his hands running down over her legs
and to her boots. Forced to stare straight ahead, she felt his hands at
her ankles, and then heard the chain there fall away. The freedom of her
legs was fleeting, however, as she heard the familiar ratcheting sound of the
handcuffs once more and then felt the press of the tight metal against the
leather of her boots.  

“Stomp your
pretty little hoof once for me if you’d like to know why I was mad, Princess,” he
spoke as he rose back to his feet.

Panting a
little through her nose, Jessica stomped her foot once, barely resisting the
urge to stomp it again. She wanted to defy him, if only to prove to
herself that she had some fight left in her. At the same time, she didn’t want
to pass up this opportunity for insight.

“By giving in
to the financial temptation of your biggest fan, Princess, I was setting your
training back a step, and I knew it.” He pushed her forward toward the
exit from the post room and she walked unsteadily toward it. “I was angry with
myself for making that mistake, but I’ve come to terms with it now, and I have
a new task for you that should get you right back on track.”

Entering the
main room of the mill again, Jessica saw that there were a pair of lines
painted in the cement floor, approximately 15 feet apart from each other. Lined
up behind each of the lines were two wooden buckets with curved handles
raised. As they got closer to the first line, she saw that the buckets
were filled with water. Next to the first bucket in line, she saw a pair
of large steel hooks. They looked like over-sized fishing hooks, though
they had round balls where the sharp point should have been. One had a length
of black rope threaded through its opening on top and tied in place. He
brought her to stand next to the hooks. She could not look down, but she heard
the metal rasp against the concrete as he picked them up.

“You’ve got a
simple job to do this morning, Princess. All you have to do is move these
buckets to the other side, and those to here,” he spoke as he moved in
close to her. “Of course, I am sure you’re wondering how you will pick
them up, being just a pony and all.”

Jessica
jerked in her bonds, trying to pull away from him as she felt his hands on her
ass, spreading her cheeks. She bit down hard on the acrid metallic bit in
her mouth, groaning as she felt the rounded tip of one of the hooks press against
the rosebud of her asshole. Panting hard, nostrils flared, she screamed as
he slowly forced the end of the hook into her tight anus. She clenched
hard as it thrust its way deep inside her, until she could feel the length of
the metal deep inside her and along the line of her ass between her cheeks.

“A draft pony’s
holes aren’t good for much of anything, so it’s nice to find some use for them,” he
hissed cruelly as he gave the rope on the hook a tug, pressing it harder into
her.

Jessica
sobbed softly as she felt him run the rope through the many rings on the back
of her harness and up to her collar. Each little tug sent spasms through
her body as her muscles tried to grow accustomed to the unnatural presence of
the thing inside her. He brought the rope around her neck and through the
ring in front, and then she felt it go down her front and through the waiting
rings of the harness there.

“I’ve tied
the other hook in place in front, though you can’t see it, can you?” he
chuckled, and she felt another tug on the rope and then the touch of cool metal
against her bare thighs. “I think you’re bright enough to figure it out, but
why don’t you let me help you with the first one.”

With a hand
on her asscheek, he guided her to stand over the first bucket, shuffling in her
boots with her ankles hobbled. Taking hold of the hook that dangled in
front of her, he pulled hard and she screamed as the one in her ass drove
itself in deeper. She spread her legs quickly, forced to bend her knees in
a squat by the pull of the rope. She heard the sound of metal against wood
and then his hand was on her ponytail, pulling her back up to a standing
position. As the bucket lifted off the ground, she cried out in pain as
its weight was supported by the hook in her ass. When he abruptly released
her hair, she quickly bent her knees and gasped with relief as the bucket came
to rest on the floor once more.

“Looks like
you’ll have to start over on that one, Princess,” he spoke, giving her
trembling ass a swat, “but you don’t want to take too much more time. If you
do, then you’ll have to work the wheel, too.”

Jessica
sobbed as she squatted over the bucket, trying to fish for the handle with the
dangling hook that she could not see. She could only stare straight
forward, toward the other line and its buckets that seemed to be miles away, as
she tried to find the strength to endure this new torment.

Jessica
lowered herself slowly on trembling legs, listening carefully for the sound of
the hook against the bucket’s handle. Each time that the metal made contact
with the wood, she would rise as quickly as she could, teetering in the
perilous hoof boots as she tried to catch the handle with it. She began to
sob again after a trio of failed tries, her chest rising and falling with each
gasping cry. She struggled to hold the cruel metal bit between her teeth. Her
shoulders and arms ached from being pulled back so unnaturally behind her, and
her ass ached from the pressure of the hook buried inside it.   

Gasping with
relief as the hook finally found purchase, Jessica slowly began to rise
further. She mewled softly, a high-pitched sound of distress, as the
weight of the bucket pulled on the rope that led to the hook inside her, hot
tears streaming down her cheeks as she lifted it from the ground. She felt
the bucket come to rest against the leather shins of her boots as she stood
upright. With the cuffs on her ankles and their short chain, she realized,
she couldn’t spread her legs far enough to get the bucket between them, and she
whimpered softly as she took her first few, hesitant steps.

Each halting
step sent the bucket swinging out and then back in to bang against her calf,
made worse by the twisting pressure this sent through the hook in her
ass. Every small step was agony as she struggled to keep herself moving. The
moment felt, somehow, surreal. She tried to look down at herself, but the
heavy collar prevented her. Suddenly, it felt as though a simple glance of
herself was the most important thing in the world to her, and her inability to
do so felt like it was robbing her of her very identity.

Jessica
stopped as she reached the halfway point of her torturous journey, her heart
stopping in her chest as she got her first view of what the buckets awaiting
her there contained. Where the wicked thing hanging between her legs now
was filled with water, the ones across the line contained rocks. Shaking
her head, nostrils flared, she lowered the bucket between her legs to the
ground again. Pulling with newfound strength with her bound and mittened
hands behind her, she swung the hook free of the handle as she turned to face
her captor with wide eyes. She whimpered softly as her desperate tugs
produced only the light sound of the lock between her wrists against the ring
on the back of her harness.

“Giving up so
quickly, Princess?” he asked as he approached her.

As she backed
away, Jessica felt the chain between her ankles go taut with each fearful step. She
felt utterly helpless as the now-empty hook tapped against the fronts of her
boots, barely able to walk, her lips and hands stolen from her. But,
despite that powerlessness, she couldn’t bring herself to continue with this
torment.

“A draft pony
that refuses to work isn’t very useful, is she?” he spoke softly, calmly,
as he approached her. “She’d have to be punished severely, and wouldn’t be
rewarded with another chance to become a show pony today.”

Jessica cried
out in fear as he reached her and yanked on the rope that was threaded through
the rings on the front of her harness. She nearly fell as he yanked her
forward by it, her boots clattering on the ground and the hook driving up deep
inside her ass again. She tried to muster a look of defiance as he glared
down at her, but could only find fear and terror within her soul. This
act, she knew, was not born of resistance, but rather of defeat. She
simply could not go on.

“Don’t you
want to be a show pony, Princess?” he asked.

A
high-pitched whine of sorrow escaped Jessica as she nodded through the sobs
that began to wrack her body. She hated him. She hated this place. She
hated the thought of giving in to his sick fantasy, but she also knew that she
couldn’t handle the treatment that she’d been receiving as a draft pony for
much longer. Her body was failing her, and she longed for that soft bed
that awaited her in the show pony room.

“You’re not
really cut out for this hard work, are you?” he asked, leaning in to
whisper in her ear, and Jessica sobbed as she slowly shook her head. “You’re
built of softer stuff than that. You’re made for pretty things, aren’t
you?”

“H-no! Don’f!” Jessica
cried out around the harsh metal bit as she suddenly felt the tip of the second
hook touch the lips of her pussy.

She tried to
bring her legs together to stop him, but he was too fast, her thighs coming to
press against either side of the leg he’d thrust between them. She
staggered, nearly falling, as she tried to step back and discovered he was
standing on the chain between her ankles. Mitten-clad hands twitching
nervously behind her back, she could do nothing to stop him as he slowly inserted
the ball on the end of the hook between her nether lips.

“Maybe you’re
not pony material after all,” he hissed at her. “Since you’re too pathetic
to work as a draft pony, and not nearly graceful enough to be a show pony,
maybe I should just cut my losses.”

Shaking her
head slowly as she sobbed, Jessica squeezed her eyes closed, trying to imagine
she was anywhere else but this place. As the cold hook came to rest inside
her, it seemed that this signaled some sort of change within the wicked
mill. It was not the first time that he’d entered her there, but this time
felt different. His entire demeanor was different. She felt his hand on
her back, and then a tug on the rope there until it drew taut; keeping both
hooks plunged inside her. He moved around behind her, out of her limited
range of vision, and she cried out as she felt the rope twist in his hand until
the hooks were buried deep inside her body.

Thrusting her
forward as he held tightly to the improvised rope handle on her back, he forced
her across the interior of the old mill. Lost in despair, her mind racing,
she barely managed to keep her feet as he led her toward a wooden back door. He
held her in place, heart hammering in her chest, as he unlocked the door and
opened it. Beyond the door, it was nighttime, and there was a small,
grassy clearing with woods beyond it. Jessica’s blood froze in her veins
as she saw a long wooden box resting on the grass next to a deep hole that had
been dug in the ground. Ropes ran from around the box to a tree above the
hole.

“It’s time for
us to part company, Princess,” he spoke calmly as he began to drag her
toward the box. “I’ll have to find someone more trainable.”

Screaming,
Jessica tried to pull herself away from her captor, oblivious in her terror to
the bite of the hooks into her sensitive flesh. He held her easily, and
she howled with terror as he dragged her toward the coffin, the hoofs of her boots
scuffing across the ground. He wouldn’t really kill her, would he? She
tried to cling to the belief that he wouldn’t get rid of her when she was
making him so much money, but in the face of the coffin, this hope was too weak
to support her.

Reaching the
end of the coffin, he thrust her forward, and she tripped over its edge to land
on her front on the soft satin padding. She squirmed, struggling to turn
herself over and look back up at him with wide eyes. Unthinking in her
fear, she opened her mouth to plead with him and the cruel bit plunged deep
into her throat, gagging her. Her body heaved and convulsed as she choked
on it deep in her throat. Her mouth filled with a rush of the regurgitated
porridge as she turned sideways to spit it out. Her mouth and nose filled
with the vile scent and taste as she struggled to get the bit back in place. Turning
again, she looked up with tear-filled eyes to see her captor standing with one
hand on the lid.

“Good bye,
Princess,” he spoke down to her.

Jessica
screamed desperately as the lid began to close, and managed to kick her feet up
in time to get one boot in the way of it closing. Crying in the darkness,
save for the sliver of light through the opening, she felt his hand come to rest
on her foot through the boot. Sobbing, she tried to plead with him, but
the combination of her overwhelming tears and the gag made her entirely incomprehensible. She
shook inside the coffin, her body wracked with her sobs, as the lid slowly
opened.

“But I
thought you had nothing left to live for, Princess?” he spoke, glaring
down at her.

Jessica shook
her head desperately as she looked up at him.

“Do you think
you can be a good pony?” he asked.

The words
reached out to her like a safety line, and she quickly nodded her head as she
cried helplessly.

“How about
this, then, Princess,” he spoke slowly as he grinned down on her. “You get
one more chance to pass the test, because you can’t be a draft pony. If
you fail, we will come right back here. If you pass, then we will see if
you can be a better show pony.”

Jessica
nodded desperately as she sobbed, her chest heaving as she panted through her
nose. Opening the lid the rest of the way, he lifted her from within the
coffin and placed her back on her feet. She was grateful that he used her
harness instead of the hooks to lift her. As she regained her feet, she
felt the hook slip from within her pussy, its wet end sliding down along her
thigh as she trembled. She wanted to run from him as she looked out at the
open woods and the sky above. Even if she could have outrun him in the hoof
boots, the cuffs on her ankles made escape impossible.

“Let’s go,
Princess,” he spoke as he pushed her toward the back door of the mill.