Welcome to #MM or downright, deliciously sexy and sinful for anyone who hasn’t been here before. Today is Monday, but are we blue? Oh no, we’re anything butt….
Named and Shamed
Agnes breathed a sigh of relief when the pile of tack had almost disappeared. “I’ll let you play with the insertables, dear.” She needn’t have bothered speaking. Hetty had already begun to lubricate the slim butt-plug tail which came complete with 16 inches of glossy, black hair. Half of Jenny’s tail had been made from her own hair, shorn the day previously, and the rest was real horse hair which had been expertly dyed to match.
“Bend her over Aggie,” said Hetty, as she placed a plastic dildo beside the glistening wet plug.
Jenny felt the chains that had been tight around her collar loosened and something clipped to the bottom of her arm-binder. Judging by the rattling sound it was another chain and as Agnes pulled on it, her arms went high and she was forced to bend over at the waist until the slack on her neck chains tightened. She had been neatly manoeuvred into forming a 90 degree angle. The leather webbing began creaking and tightening painfully all over her body and the metal rings embedded themselves in her flesh. Trying desperately to make as much noise as she could, because hitting, spitting, kicking and swearing were definitely out, all she came up with was a loud ‘ahhhh’ sound. Yes, that would scare their socks off, she thought. Jenny had reached the point where her trembling was such that each of her neck chains rattled. She couldn’t help it; she knew exactly what was coming next. A long line of drool extended down from her lip and grew in length with each tremor of her body. She tried to free her tongue, in order to plead, beg or scream for mercy but the thick, rectangular rubber pressing down upon it immovable. The butt-plug pressed for entry at her rear.
Hetty began to slowly pump it backwards and forwards and she cried out in protest. She did not want to wear this. The bridle was bad enough, but the tail was far, far worse. No-one paid the slightest bit of attention to her. Slightly thicker than the flower plug she had just been wearing, the new tail began to slide in easily. Her body was already getting accustomed to being filled with their monstrosities and by all accounts, she was going to be stretched much further if some of the tails she had seen yesterday had been any indication. No, she would be rescued. The turn her thoughts were taking was quite disturbing. When the coarse hair on the end of the plug tickled her inner thighs, she fought against the restraints that bound her to no avail. This could not be happening.
Things like this did not happen in the twenty first century. They did not. Hetty unfastened the leather strap that ran under her sex and made short work of slotting the larger plug home. With a sucking pop and a squelch, her tail was anchored.
The severity of Jenny’s situation finally hit home. These people were completely insane and this place was crazy. She had been effectively turned into a dumb animal in a matter of seconds and just about every avenue of escape had been taken from her. She could not run, she could not scream for help and without the use of her hands it would be impossible to free herself.
Her ordeal was not over. Another long, impossibly fat plug was being twisted inside her pussy and humiliatingly, this one did not need to be covered in lubricant. Her body was welcoming the intruder inside with all the red carpet treatment it could muster. Even her backside wiggled in excitement, through the tremors of arousal and fear. How could it enjoy being treated in this way?
“Those metal rings on your crotch strap will ensure that both plugs cannot escape, no matter how hard you try to push them out,” Agnes informed her. “They will remain there whether you trot, canter, gallop or swim. The only time they come out is when someone decides to take pity on you and this will usually be when you’re stabled at night.”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on the filly,” said Hetty, who was sporting a wide grin. “She might get lucky.” Large, bushy red eyebrows waggled at Agnes in a conspiratorial fashion.
Oh God, oh God, oh God, Jenny had all but forgotten about the sex part. As soon as the thought entered her head a vision of Mark flitted across her brain. She forced it back out again. She hated him. She despised him. He’d be the last man on earth… Hmm, hadn’t she said all this before? The lady doth protest too much, methinks. She would have immediately slapped herself for quoting Shakespeare at a time like this, and was somewhat annoyed when her hand didn’t follow through with the instinctive reaction.
The chains began to tighten once more as Henrietta pulled at the winch and Jenny’s body was once again in a vertical position.
“We’ve got one more thing to do and then you’ll be pleased to know that you can get back out in the exercise yard with all the other fillies and have some fun,” said Agnes, who was rooting around in a plastic ice-cream tub. Bizarrely, she pulled out a small silver disc. “Got it.”
Jenny could only imagine what torments could be performed with such a benign piece of metal. She could do nothing but wait patiently and find out. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She was currently testing the limits of the leather arm-binder and seeing whether there would be any chance of freeing her limbs any time soon. If the thread was cotton, she stood a chance, but if it was made out of something a little bit more robust then the odds were not in her favour. She didn’t get a chance to ponder the matter further, as the silver circle was being waved in front of her face.
“This is your name plate.” She raised the engraved piece of metal to the trainee’s eyeline so she could read what had been written and then clipped the disc to the front of her collar, where it would be prominently on display.