#MasturbationMonday – Pony Girl Uniform Fitting! #BDSM

Masturbation Monday

Hello and give a cheer – for yep, once again – MOAN DAY is here! OK – Pony Girl Uniform Fitting today, so we’re back with ‘Named and Shamed.’

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Named and Shamed

“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 armbinder. 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 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. 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 21st century. They did not. The plug slotted home, with a sucking pop and a squelch and she got a stinging slap on her backside for her troubles.

The severity of Jenny’s situation finally hit home. These people were nuts 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.

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