MEDIEVAL AND OTHER ADVENTURES
                             PART TWO



     For you readers who have made it this far, or have just started, welcome.  The first seven
chapters that constitute Part one of this fictional story cover the adventures of me, Pat Anderson,
the guy I met in the museum, Don Grafton, and our budding romance.  He, a wealthy semi-retired
business man and I, a newly graduated nurse financed by an inheritance who was exploring her
fantasies in New York City, had escaped to his mansion on the Hudson River where I had agreed
to pose for pictures showing off his originals and reproductions of medieval torture and
imprisoning devices.  But first I had been persuaded to help present a beautiful golden archway to
some wonderful Indian folk.  My part was to appear unclad and spread-eagled, locked in the centre
of the arch.  Our story resumes as we were preparing to attend a sort of costume dinner, dressed
in clothes from the late 1700's and early 1800's in honour of Don's sister's birthday.
     Her name is Sarah Lafferty.  Her husband is Ed Lafferty, who is a competent physician. 
Other people who you may encounter include Hans and Clara Heinson, Don's man-Friday and
cook and home manager respectively, Ken, his security man, and Gloria, his attractive blonde
secretary.  I had initially been jealous of her but later he told me that she was sort of a lesbian
whose significant other was a dominatrix.
     Don had recognized my interest in bondage and a few other things early in our
relationship, and this had led to mutual peaks of ecstacy.  But to get on with the story...


                          CHAPTER EIGHT

     Sarah was in my room when I arrived there and had laid out some interesting, Spanish
appearing clothes.  Where they came from was not clear but being an authority on just such
things, she was not about to have me dress in anything that was not authentic for that period. 
After I had showered, she watched as I first donned a light camisole or slip.  The she picked up an
"old-fashioned" corset with stiff stays.
     "Now Pat, we'll see if we can do a few things to your figure.  As I lace this up, please try
to hold in your gut.  And you can't object for I am wearing something similar."
     The corset ran from just below my breasts down to my pubis, and it progressively
constricted my waist, pushing my boobs up, as she drew it tighter and tighter until my ability to
breathe seemed a little restricted.  Then she had me put on several more layers, the outer one
being a fine, purple velvet gown that buttoned up to my neck.  The numerous under garments
gave me sort of bustle and I wondered how I was going to be able to sit comfortably.  The final
touches were a wide and thick, ruffled thing that formed a high collar under my chin, and a wig
into which she inserted a fashionable comb.  The shoes were lace ups with high heels.
     As I looked in the mirror, I really looked like someone from two or three centuries earlier. 
My thoughts went to my commitment to Don to play a role in his enactment of some dark pages
in history, but this was slated for several days hence.  He joined us a few minutes later, planted a
quick kiss on my rouged cheek and off we went, with Sarah dressed in even finer clothes than I
and Don in a dark, frock-like suit and ruffled shirt.
     The home of the Henderson's was older and larger than Don's.  It was mainly a manor
with more of a farm setting, including a large cobblestone courtyard complete with hitching posts. 
I was presented rather formally to Mr. And Mrs. Henderson, bowing as instructed my Sarah, and
then Don and I began to mix with the other guests.  Sarah as the guest of honour was sort of the
center of attention, and I was quite content to be sort of ignored.  The cocktails and dinner were
delicious and were served by multiple maids and servants, all dressed in period costumes.  It was
really quite a presentation but I was a little bored, particularly during dinner for I was seated
between two rather elderly gentleman who had imbibed a little too much, and Don was seated far
away.
     At least it was boring until......the doors to the dining room were thrown open and in
marched several soldiers or guards accompanied my a priest, The soldier who seemed to be in
charge came to the head of the table and asked, "Is there a Patricia Anderson present?"
     A hush fell over the crowd and everyone looked at me.  "I'm Pat Anderson," I said in a
soft voice.  The soldiers immediately surrounded me and grasped my arms firmly.  "Wait, what
are you doing?"
     "You are wanted by the king and the church for crimes against the country and for heresy. 
Also, you are under suspicion for adultery and for casting spells.  Let no one present interfere as
we put her in irons and to keep her speaking she is to be placed in branks and hooded."
     As a hand was clamped across my mouth and I started to struggle, I saw Sarah coming
towards me and wondered whether she was going to intervene.  "That woman has stolen one of
my gowns and should also be accused of theft.
     The hand was taken from my mouth but before I could yell my wig was torn off and an
iron cage was placed on my head with a round protrusion that was jammed into my mouth, filling
it and muffling my words.  I recognized it as the same one Don had put on me in the past, and I
now knew for sure that my time had come to serve as a model and play the role we had discussed.
     I was wrestled to the floor and hands quickly unbuttoned and removed my gown, the lace
collar, my petticoats and my shoes, leaving me in the corset and the camisole.  Then a crossbar
with attached collar and wrist irons was placed on me.  This also was the same as I had worn for
Don.  I then became aware of Ken, Don's security man, taking pictures of me surrounded by the
others.  He was using both a still camera and a camcorder.  Well, I might as well make it look
good so I continued to struggle and kick.  One of the soldiers then tied a short rope to one ankle
and then did the same to the other so that I was effectively hobbled.
     Using another rope attached to a ring in the iron collar I was then more or less dragged
out of the house and into the courtyard, aided also by soldiers pulling on my arms.  I was
confronted by a low wooden cart with wooden wheels, a ass or donkey standing quietly in place
in front.  I felt myself lifted up and the back of the cart was slammed closed behind me after which
a chain was passed around my waist holding me in an upright position against the rear of the cart. 
The people who had followed me out were yelling and accusing me of one thing or another and a
few picked some small stones and started throwing them.  One of the guards, perhaps feeling a
little sorry, threw a heavy cloth over me and it did protect me although it prevented me from
seeing where we were going.
     The journey seemed to take for ever.  It was bumpy and I kept being thrown from one side
to another.  Luckily it was not particularly cold.  My biggest concern was keeping the collar from
cutting into my neck.
     Finally we came to a stop.  Without removing the cloth covering my head, I was taken
into some type of building.  The stone surface of the floor beneath my feet seemed rough and
cold.  
     "Stand still, Patricia.  We are going to remove the cloth, your brank and your irons.  If you
try to escape, you will be beaten severely," came a female voice.  And when I could see again, it
was Clara, dressed in a gray uniform of sorts with a wide leather belt from which dangled a large
key ring.  Hans was also there, dressed as some type of guard.  Neither was smiling.
     I was standing in a basement of some type with several cells, some of which had bars and
others simply thick wooden doors.  Chains and ropes hung from the walls and there were low
benches, stools, tables and chairs.  On one of the tables lay several whips, canes and floggers
which immediately got my attention and fear.  An Iron maiden stood in a corner and there was a
copy of the infamous rack along one wall.  The only heat came from a large fireplace in which
coals burned on a grate.  
     With the brank removed from my head and the bar uncoupled from my neck and wrists, it
felt wonderful to lower my hands and move my head around, wondering what was going to
happen next.
     "Turn around so I can remove your corset and then get out of that camisole.  Here the
accused wear this," Clara said and handed me a coarse, dirty white simple garment without collar
or sleeves.  She watched as I stripped and then pulled the garment down over my head.
     "Clara, what's going to happen to me now?" I asked.
     "Quiet, Patricia, and my name is not Clara.  Pedro has something new for you to wear and
then we are going to lock you up in a cosy place for the night."
     I looked behind me to see Hans....or Pedro....coming at me with some peculiar type of
iron collar.  As he locked it around my neck I could see that it had about six radiating bars
sticking out about ten or so inches from the collar to which they were welded.  I immediately
grasped two of the bars to steady the collar and keep it from pressing in on my neck.  Then I was
led to the side of the room, pushed down and made to enter a cage that was about four feet
square.
     I grabbed at the edges of the cage entrance and uttered a loud, "No, please," but Pedro
pulled my arm free and shut the door with a loud clang.  Looking out I could see Ken taking
pictures and guessed that he was going to be doing this with each event.  I wondered where Don
was.
     After they left me I saw there was a pail of water in one corner but otherwise the cage was
empty.  Immediately I realized that getting comfortable was going to be a major problem.  I
couldn't stand or stretch out, and the horrible collar kept me from resting my head against
practically anything.  As I was shaking the bars of the cage and trying to get at the lock, the 
lights
went out and I was in complete darkness.
     Finally, I just squatted on my haunches and rested my head forward against my thighs, the
bars of the collar resting on my knees.  In this position I fell asleep.  But the rest of the long 
night
was a series of aches, pains, struggling to find a comfortable position, and yelling for anybody,
interspersed with short naps.  At one point I tried drinking a little of the water from the pail but
because of the collar spikes or bars, most of the water went onto the front of my garment, making
me even more miserable.  And when my bladder got uncomfortable full, I said the hell with it, and
pissed right through the bottom of the cage.


                           CHAPTER NINE

     By the time the lights came on, I was tired, cranky and ached all over.  Hans entered
carrying a bowl of gruel, a cup of what turned out to be tea, and two apples, followed my Ken
with his cameras.
     In a pleading voice, I said, "Listen, you two, this business has stopped being fun.  I
thought you were my friends and if you have any compassion for me, please tell Don that I want
very much to speak to him."
     It was Ken who answered.  "Pat, I guess we both feel a little sorry for you.  I am going to
take a few more pictures in your pitiful state.  Then I will talk with Don.  Hans is just carrying 
out
orders so don't blame him.  After you eat we will be back to take you out of the cage and will get
that thing off your neck.  You are slated to appear before a priest soon after that."
     I mumbled some type of acceptance, started eating and was surprised when everything
tasted wonderful.  Ken had left when Hans (?should I call him Pedro?) opened the cage, helped
me to stand on my cramped legs, and removed the horrible collar.  When Don appeared a few
minutes later, I was almost feeling my usual self and had stopped hating everybody.
     Don quickly embraced me and I responded by snuggling against his warm body.  He raised
my chin with his hand and his mouth tenderly found mine.  "I'm sorry, Pat.  I didn't think it would
be so terrible on you.  We'll call the whole thing off."
     "Wait, Don.  I guess I sort of over-reacted.  And if getting you to hold me this way is my
reward for last night, maybe I'll I consider going through it all again.  I don't want you to stop
your little scenario just because of my little outburst this morning.  And please don't tell Clara. 
She thinks I don't have what it takes."
     "Are you sure?  You know I wondered whether you might be doing this to examine
yourself.  But Pat, please don't feel that our relationship depends upon how you do over the next
day or so.  I'm very much taken with you.  Now if you still are willing to go ahead, here is what's
planned for today.  You will be questioned by the priest with particular attention to the most
serious accusation.  That is the crime of heresy.  If you deny it, you will be questioned in a more
severe manner, namely by the strappado and rack.  It will all be filmed so refer to Hans as Pedro if
you have to call him anything.  At some point you will confess to heresy, and then you will be
sentenced.  Now, do you want to go ahead?"
     "Don, the answer is yes, but it would make me feel better if you could arrange to be with
me tonight.  I miss you."
     "I think that can be arranged."  He hugged and kissed me again, unmindful of the fact that
Hans was still in the room.  "Pedro, the prisoner is all yours."
     As Don left, Pedro ordered me to turn around and I felt him begin to lash my wrists
together behind my back using a leather strap of some type.  He wasn't being particularly gentle. 
Next he locked an iron collar around my neck.  This was a simple affair compared to what I had
worn all night. Attached to it was a three foot length of chain and he used this to lead me out into
the large room where the table was now in the middle with several chairs arranged on one side. 
Clara was sitting in one of them and rose to meet us.  Nearby was the wooden chair with all the
pointed bumps or pyramids that I had sat on in Don's museum and I thought this was where
Hans, or Pedro, was leading me.  Instead I was led up to a post on top of which was sort of a
pillory with holes for hands and neck.  Clara opened the two sections, Pedro forced my head into
position, and she closed and fastened the sections together.  I was now bent forward looking
primarily at my bare feet.  My hands were still lashed together behind me.
     "Remain silent, slut.  The high priest will be here in a while," said Clara.
     Happily, the priest arrived before I got too uncomfortable.  He was dressed in a long,
brown robe and sandals  with the cowl of his robe pushed back.  He was moderately overweight
and I almost laughed for he looked exactly like a story book friar.  However his stern countenance
gave me pause.  He walked around me several times before he sat down at the table.
     "Patricia, you have been accused of multiple crimes.  Do you confess to them all?"
     Deciding to go along with the act, I answered, "Father, I do not know what I have been
accused of, and therefore cannot answer.  Besides, don't I get a lawyer?"
     "The judgement of the Church is not influenced by any counsellor, and you don't look like
you could afford one anyway.  We will proceed.  Don Alfredo, who visited you earlier, has
accused you of casting a love spell on him and luring him away from his fiancé‚.  His sister says
you stole from her.  How do you plead?"
     "Sir, I admit to loving Don but he shares that love willingly, and his sister loaned me the
clothes."
     "I am entering a plea of innocent on your record."  He went ahead with several other
accusations which I also denied any knowledge of and then said, "Your most serious crime is that
of heresy, and you have blasphemed God in front of others.  How do you plead?"
     "I have never taken the Lord's name in vain, Father."
     "Pedro, I have heard enough from this woman and believe she is lying.  Test her with the
strappado.  I will return later to hear her confession.....and don't go easy on her."
     "Sir...," I tried to answer but he had already left the room.  Pedro unfastened my head
from the stock and led me over to a corner of the room where a rope dangled down from a pulley
high overhead.  He looped the rope around my bound wrists, walked over to the wall and started
pulling down on the other portion of the rope.
     Gradually my hands were pulled upwards and I bent forward to relieve the tension.  But
there quickly came a point when the strain began to hurt my shoulders.  He stopped pulling and
simply watched as I moved around, centring myself under the pulley, finding a little slack. 
Immediately, he pulled some more, causing me to moan from the discomfort and rise up on my
toes.
     He again stopped, fastened the rope and walked over to me, taking out a leather whip
which he lashed across my protruding rump.  When I moved away from him, the pull on my
shoulders increased, as it did with each subsequent blow.  By then I was crying and pleading.  He
stopped and I was about to thank him when he unfastened the rope and pulled my hands even
higher.  I thought my shoulders were about to dislocate and yelled for him to stop.
     At first he ignored my pleas but when I said, "Please get the priest," he released the rope
and allowed me to fall to my knees.  After attaching my neck chain to a U-shaped fixture low
down on the wall, he left the room and I was again aware of Ken taking more pictures.
     About two or three hours seemed to pass before Pedro returned carrying a tray on which
there was a hard roll, a pear, a ham bone and a tankard of what turned out to be red wine. 
Without a word, he untied my wrists and again left me.  It took almost a minute before I could
comfortable get my shoulders loose enough to move my hands in front of me and begin eating. 
The wine tasted particularly good and, in anticipation of what else might happen that day, I drank
it all.  Pedro returned soon afterwards, this time with the priest.
     "Well, Patricia, I understand you wish to confess to your crimes."
     I had thought about this moment and decided that admitting to practically everything
wasn't going to hurt me, but the idea of saying I had blasphemed God and was a heretic seemed
wrong even in this setting.  When I told the priest this, he became irate, cursed me and also told
Pedro that he had done a very poor job.
     "Now, strip her and put her on the rack.  I want a full confession or you will find yourself
being put to the question.  I'll return at the end of the day to have her sign the necessary
documents, and I don't want to find her resting comfortably."
     After he left, Pedro said to me, "I'm very sorry, Pat.  Will you disrobe or will you make
me do it?"
     "Well, I can't pull it up over my head with the chain fastening my collar to the wall. 
Anyway, why don't we just wait a few hours and then you can put me on the rack," I said.
     He looked at me a moment, unfastened the chain from the wall, and pulled me over to the
rack which at that point looked very formidable.  Without hesitating as I started to protest, he
picked me up and dropped me, not too gently, on the table.  I struggled as he fastened heavy
wristlets and anklets in place, went to the head of the table and spun the roller device several
times, the chains drawing my limbs a short distance towards the corners of the table.
     "Hans, please wait a minute.  I have to go to the bathroom, and besides we should talk
about this.  Otherwise, I'm going to start yelling and calling you all sorts of things."
     His answer to this was to quickly place a leather gag over my lower face, forcing an
attached leather ball into my mouth.  "You will do no yelling or name calling.  I will go slow but
when you are ready to confess, I'll know it."
     At that point he used a knife to start a rip in my simple garment and then used his hands to
tear it from neck to bottom, pulling the coarse material from under me and staring at my nudity.
There was no way I could cover up my bare breasts or my pubis, and I felt much more naked than
when he had seen me covered in gold paint.
     Partly to retaliate and partly because I really had to go, I urinated all over the table.  He
looked at me a moment longer, left the room and returned with a bucket of water which he
proceeded to pour over me.  It was icy cold and I yelled into the gag.  Then he turned the spokes
attached to the roller some more until I was spread out with only a little slack left in the chains
running from the cuffs.
     For a moment he left me and went to stoke the coals in the fireplace.  He turned on some
type of blower and immediately the coals were burning more fiercely than before and I could feel
the heat where I lay.  To my dismay he put several pointed iron bars and a long branding iron into
the coals and left them there.  One move of these towards me was going to lead to shrieks and
immediate confession to anything.
     Pedro returned to the head of the rack and turned the roller still farther until my limbs
were clear of the table and I could feel the strain in all my joints.  I moaned and tried to turn or
twist but found all movement except for my head, fingers and toes to be impossible.  I was now
breaking out in a sweat.  Ken moved in for some close-ups of my glistening body.
     Strangely, although my joints were somewhat uncomfortable, the immobilization
combined with my nudity and lack of control over what was happening began to sexually arouse
me, something that had not happened in the morning.  These feelings caused my nipples to harden
and a craving to be felt between my thighs.  When Pedro picked up a long set of tongs and started
to gently pinch my breasts, arms, thighs and belly, my moaning was more from delight than from
discomfort.
     This all changed when Pedro pulled on the spokes and chains became very taunt, clacking
through the ratchets.  Now I was truly hurting and beginning to worry about real injury.  He felt
my arms and legs, testing the pull on them, after which he turned the roller a little more.
     Tears started rolling down my cheeks as I cried out in pain.
     "Do you confess to heresy, Patricia?"  The words came from the priest who I had not seen
return.
     I nodded vigorously, all thoughts of holding out further having disappeared.  He mumbled
something to Pedro who immediately lifted the latch and allowed the chains to slacken.  My arms
dropped onto the surface of the table and blood started to return to my hands.
     "Release one of her hands so she can sign this confession."  With a quill he handed me I
signed where he indicated, not caring what was in the document.
     "Patricia, you have confessed to all the accusations brought against you.  It is the
judgement of the Church that tomorrow you shall be put in an iron cage and hung for public
display, after which you will be burned at the stake."
     I tried to scream a 'NO' but he had already left the room.  With a few tears still flowing,
the cuffs were removed completely and Pedro led me by the chain to a small cell that was empty
except for a pail, a tankard of water and several blankets lying on a thick layer of straw.  I
stumbled forward on aching legs and lay down as he closed and locked the heavy wooden door. 
A little light came in through a barred window set in one wall.  Within minutes I was asleep.
     It was difficult for me to know how much time passed before being waking, lying on my
side with Don curled around me, a hand covering one of my breasts.  "Oh, that feels so nice," I
said as I pushed my rump against his thighs and scrotum.
     "I agree, Pat.  Are you okay, and do you want something to eat?  There is some roasted
chicken, potatoes, and salad for you as well as some wine.  You should try to eat."
     "I'm fine but not very hungry.  But I guess I should eat.  How about you?"
     "Let's share."  I sat up and realized I was still naked when he draped a blanket around me. 
We ate off a common tray and everything tasted delicious.  By the time I was finished I was a
little heady from the wine.  "Was it too bad on you?"
     "Well, I got a little scared and I guess I really don't like pure pain and the threat of being
seriously hurt, but I confess there were a few moments when it was sort of fun.  And I can't figure
Hans out."
     "Pat, he thinks you're wonderful and was very concerned about you.  He wanted things to
go according to plan but didn't want to hurt you.  It was difficult for him to know how much
strain to put on you.  In any case, it's essentially over.  If you are willing, we will hang you out 
in
the open for a short time tomorrow, give you a break and then put you on a stake as if we were
going to execute you.  But that's it.  End of filming and pictures.  Everyone goes home and you
and I can relax and enjoy each other.  You see, I really think I love you."
     I turned to look at him, then gave him a long, warm kiss and said, "Is this something you
tell every girl you lock up in your torture room and are about to burn at the stake?"
     "No, just the pretty ones."
     I swung at him but he caught my hand, pushed me back on the blankets and began a slow
tease that had me begging for orgasm before finally entering me and taking me up, up and over.
     My night was filled with embraces, dreams and one funny moment when I got up, squatted
on the pail and let forth a loud stream of urine that got us both laughing.  When I finally awoke
again, the sun was streaming in the window, the cell door was locked shut and breakfast was on a
tray nearby.  The coffee was delicious as was everything else.  After eating I lay back, wrapped in
the blanket, thinking of all that had happened.  I was about to see if I could get myself excited
when I heard a knock on the door and the sound of the lock turning.  Hans entered.
     "Pat, just another couple of hours.  Keep the blanket around you for now and I am going
to lead you out by the collar chain.  By the way, I am really sorry if I hurt you in any way.  Clara
and I are very happy that you and Mr. Grafton seem to be getting along real well."
     I thanked him and followed him out into the big room where Clara and the priest stood on
each side of an iron cage shaped like a human form.  It was hanging from a rectangular frame
rising from a small square platform that was on wheels.
     As the priest spoke some Latin phrases, Clara swung the front of the cage open, took the
blanket and helped as Hans turned and backed me.  They lifted my hands and passed them above a
transverse arc of iron at waist level.  My back was pushed against several horizontal and one
central vertical pieces, the iron feeling cold against my bare skin, the blanket having been pulled
from me.  Clara immediately closed a band around my upper arms, forcing my elbows together
and thrusting my shoulders back and my breasts forward.  Hans pushed my feet back until they
were resting on a small foot piece that had a single cross bar only about an inch wide.
     Then the front of the cage was swung closed, the cross pieces snugging down on my
waist, upper chest, lower chest, pelvis, thighs, legs and ankles.  Several locks were used to secure
the front to the back of the cage.  My head was still more or less free but Hans then closed the
separate front head section.  The back of my head was pushed against iron that was almost a form
fitting cast, and the front bars pressed on my forehead with a metal pear that was forced into my
mouth and a piece that cupped my chin above the iron collar I still wore.
     I was now standing on the narrow foot rest, held immobile by the encircling bands of
wrought iron.  My breasts were pushed lewdly out above one of the cross pieces and final
indignity occurred when a curved piece was brought forward and upward between my thighs until
it could be attached to the waist band,
     Gagged and secured, I was then wheeled out into the sunshine and found myself in the
courtyard behind Don's house.  There were about 15 or 20 people present, most of whom I
recognized from the party at the Hastings where this all began.  They started laughing and
pointing at me, making remarks that I couldn't really hear, as Hans attached a chain to the eye on
the top of the cage.
     I tried looking up but my head was held too firmly.  It was soon clear, however, that the
chain came down from some type of hoist for the cage rose up until my feet were at the level of
the people's heads.  Immediately the cage started rotating, first in one direction and then the
other.  When the motion almost came to a halt, someone reached up and gave me a spin, starting
the rotation all over.  Other people picked up pieces of sod or dirt and threw then at me but most
missed.
     Soon my feet tired from resting on the narrow bar and I sought to relieve this by lowering
my body onto the band running through my crotch.  I was immediately aware of the fact that there
were several knobs on this bar and one corresponded to the site of my vagina.  The result was
immediate arousal and I wondered if I could move my pelvis enough to increase the stimulation. 
But unfortunately, this was not possible so I just hung there, hot and horny as the people enjoyed
what they thought was my discomfort.  Little did they know how I really felt.
     Food and drinks were brought for the people by Clara and others including Gloria, Don's
bland secretary-receptionist.  I still wondered about her, as well as the information that she lived
with a dominatrix.  Except for an occasional spin, I was to some ignored as people became bored
and tired of tormenting me.
     Finally, the cage was lowered and opened.  Immediately I was given a gray cotton robe
and taken to a large stake set in the ground not far from the house.  Chains were wrapped in
spirals around my body after which wood was pile around my feet.  I began to worry when
burning torches were brought towards me but I then heard Ken say he had enough pictures.  Don
appeared, thanked everyone for coming, waited while people sauntered off and then came over to
stand close in front of me.
     "Patricia, you make a beautiful Joan of Arc.  Thank you.  Now I wonder where the key is
to your chains."
     "Don, I'll give you about 30 seconds to release me or else you are going to be very sorry."
     The chains fell off in about 25 seconds and he took me in his arms.  "Just what did you
have in mind, Pat?"
     "I'll think of something.  It's about time our roles were reversed."
     "No, I think not."  When he tried to pin my arms behind me, we started wrestling and it
didn't take more than a few minutes of laughter and wild blows before he was on top of me,
pushing my robe up, his pants down, etc.


                           CHAPTER TEN

     Early the next morning I opened my eyes to see Don smiling and looking at me from his
position on the large bed in his room where we had spent the night after a quiet and restful
evening.
     "This is a wonderful way to awaken.  I must look a mess.  How can you stand looking at
me?"
     "Pat, you're beautiful.  You just look a little wild, and it's going to be a challenge to tame
you."
     "Lover, you'll never tame me nor will anyone else."
     "We'll see about that," he said, reaching for me.  But I rolled out of bed and streaked into
the bathroom where I took a long shower trying to ease the aches I felt in my joints.  When I
emerged, Don had left so I wrapped a towel around me, went to my own room and dressed in a
sports bra, shorts and sneakers.  I found Don waiting on the patio outside the kitchen, having a
cup of coffee.
     "Well you look a little better, almost passable.  Ready for breakfast?"
     "No, we are going for a run first.  I've got some joints to limber up and you need the
exercise," I observed.
     "Now she's giving orders, but all right.  You lead and I'll follow you anywhere."
     I ran out across the lawn in a fast pace and started down one of the trails that I knew
circled back to the house in about two miles.  Don apparently had to grab his running shoes
before starting, and was initially quite far behind me.  The last part of the circle was uphill and 
I
was sweating and breathing hard when the house came in sight.  Having finally caught up to me,
Don was breathing just as hard.
     "It's about time," I panted and headed for the gym.  Entering the pool area, I stripped off
my clothes, kicked off my sneakers and dove into the rather cool water.  Coming up to the surface
I turned and saw Don at the edge of the pool looking at me.  "You said you'd follow me
anywhere.  Come on.  The water's fine."  And watched as he stripped, dove and swam under
water towards me.
     Being close to the side of the pool, I climbed out, ran to where his clothes were piled,
grabbed them as well as my own and ran for the house.  Clara was on the patio, laughing when I
got there.  We then looked out to see Don start across the lawn, stark naked, but when he saw
Clara, he quickly went back in the gym.  When he finally reached the house, he was wearing
bathing trunks. I had dressed in a loose muumuu and was drinking coffee, looking like I had been
there for hours.
     Clara, with a twinkle in her eyes, said to Don, "Mr. Grafton, I don't know why you went
back for a bathing suit.  You weren't showing anything of any size.  I don't know what Pat sees in
you or maybe she pities you."
     "Clara, watch your tongue or you will spend a few days down below just before you get
fired," Don said.
     From me came the words, "I sort of like him the way he is.  And, Clara, be kind to him. 
He is all tired out from his run and swim."
     Clara left us to bring out a late lunch while Don and I chatted in the warm sunshine.  He
again asked whether he had put me though too much over the preceding two or three days and I
assured him the answer was no and that I was looking forward to seeing the pictures.  I did tell
him I was a little sorry not to have been put in the Iron Maiden and the bilboes.
     "Pat, if you mean that, we can try you in both after we eat.  Pictures of you in the bilboes
would be great but wouldn't show much of you in the Maiden.  The reason I didn't include her in
the scenario was for that reason plus the fact that it hasn't been working smoothly.  I'll show you
what I mean, but Hans thinks he it fixed."
     I realized that I had lost a little of my appetite and Don sensed my increased tension.
     "Don't worry.  I won't leave you in either apparatus very long.  Maybe just a day or two." 
I looked sharply at him but he continued, "I'm just kidding.  Now I want to discuss the next few
days with you.  First, we have an invitation to go to a small dinner tonight, given by two of my
sort of kinky friends."
     "Kinkier than us?" I asked with a smile on my face.  "It already sounds like fun."
     "Well they don't have our imagination but I think you will enjoy them.  Sarah and Ed will
be there as will the Hastings.  You've not met our hosts but they have seen you on two or three
occasions already.
     "Then in a day or so I've got to go down to the city on business, but thought you might
like to visit a farm that belongs to other friends of mine."
     "Why would I be interested in a farm?  I'd sort of rather be with you, Don."
     "Well, they have a collection of farm animals and historical farm equipment, plus the fact
that they have one or two pony girls."
     "Don, are you kidding me again?  You are serious, aren't you?  Are they locked up or
kept in stalls?"
     "I've got your interest, haven't I.  No, they are not locked up unless they want to be. 
Actually, the two that I know have very good jobs and simply are pony girls in their spare time,
making a little extra money by posing, racing and entertaining.  Basically, they do this because
they like to."
     I told him I was sort of interested and asked whether he would like to see me as a pony
girl.
     "Yes, particularly when I know how fast and far you can run.  But, it's up to you.  And
you don't have to tell me until tomorrow when I told him I would let him know."  Apparently
Don had already discussed this with the farm owner.
     After eating, Don changed into khaki shorts and a light shirt but said he liked seeing me in
the muumuu, knowing that I probably didn't have anything on underneath.  We went down into
his "torture" room and with somewhat sweaty hands, I walked up to the black "Iron Maiden"
which was locked shut.
     As Don took out a key and removed the lock, he said, "As you may know, the Iron
Maiden was basically used to torture and execute people.  Inside the front are iron spikes which
penetrate the victim as the Maiden gradually is closed.  There are cuffs and chains inside to hold
the person in place during the process.  Note that I keep the thing locked for I don't want anyone
fooling with it.  Only Hans and I have keys.  Now I'll show you the screw mechanism on the side
that engages and gradually pulls the front to the back, and will also show you that we have
modified the design so that the spikes retract against springs, so they really don't penetrate
anything now.  That's what Hans has been fixing for the spikes were catching a little."
     "Are you very sure they are fixed?"
     Don answered that he was but added, "But we will go real slow and you can let me know
if you feel more than slight pressure from the spikes.  Are you ready?"
     He turned a large screw like device on the side and the front slowly opened to the point
where the device could be disengaged, allowing the two parts to swing completely apart.  My
eyes immediately riveted on the black spikes and then on the cuffs and chains.  I momentarily
stepped back but then said, "Yes, I'm ready to meet my maker."
     Hans had joined us and the two of them first fastened a chain tightly around my waist and
another crisscrossed my chest, accentuating my breasts. The cuffs were then closed on my ankles
and wrists with my arms held tightly at my sides.  Don then carefully checked each of the spikes,
making sure they retracted.
     He placed a kiss on my lips and said, "Have fun, Pat.  See you a little later."  I saw the
front begin to close on me and realized that one of the spikes was heading right for my mouth. 
Others were positioned over my breasts, belly, and thighs.  Just before they touched me, Don
asked, "Are you okay?" to which I answered, "Yes, I think so."
     I then heard the screw turning, bringing the front of the Maiden closer and closer.  As the
light was gradually blacked out, the spikes pushed in on me.  Happily, they did indeed retract but
the pressure of the points was increasing.  I had to open my mouth and when the spike was
between my teeth, I bit down to hold it in position.  To my relief, I found that this spike was hard
rubber and immediately stopped moving towards me due to the clenching of my jaw.  But I did
not dare open my mouth for fear that the spike would move towards the back of my mouth.  With
a soft clang, the front closed completely and I was now in complete darkness.
     "Pat, how are you doing?" came Don's words, muffled and in the distance.  I moaned an
okay and the sound seemed metallic inside the Maiden which now held me in her bosom.  I then
heard him say, "Hans, go get Ken and tell him to bring his cameras.  I'll stay with Pat."
     Gradually I became less tense and sort of savored the feelings of the bondage and the
multiple points of discomfort, particularly from the spikes poking into my breasts, but the spike in
my mouth was getting to be a problem for my jaw was getting tired.  I tried relaxing a little and
immediately it moved farther into my mouth.
     Just when I was about to start moaning a warning to Don, he unlatched the front,
unscrewed it and finally opened it completely.  "Hi, beautiful.  Having fun?"
     "Darn it, Don.  Just when I was really beginning to enjoy things, you had to come to my
rescue," I complained falsely.
     "Well, in that case we will simply have to close you up again."
     "No, no. I didn't mean it.  Your timing was just right."  Later, in response to his
questions, I told him exactly what it felt like and suggested he get rid of the mouth spike.
     He unfastened the chains and cuffs and I stepped into his arms for a kiss.  Then I noticed
that Ken had joined us and was carrying a gray, pullover garment similar to the one I had worn in
the scenario.
     "I guess you want me to put that on for the pictures," I said and went into the nearby cell
to change.  When I came out, the three men were standing there talking about nothing in
particular.  "Well boys, let's get on with it.  Where are the bilboes?"
     Don replied, "In the store room with all the junk."
     I was surprised to see so much stuff of various shapes and sizes.  There chains hanging
from the walls, leather harnesses, a full size pillory, a pair of metal shoes, and a lot more other
things.  Picking up the shoes I asked Don, "What are these for?"
     He took one and showed me the flange on the bottom that had a sharp spike directed up
towards a hole in the heel.  "The shoes are locked on a person who must then stand on his or her
toes to prevent the spike from penetrating the bottom his heel.  Pretty wicked, don't you think? 
Hans, where are the bilboes?"
     "Over near the Scavenger's Daughter, I think."
     "The what?" I asked.
     Don answered, "The Scavenger's Daughter is something that might be more fun than the
bilboes.  Here let me show you."
     He picked up a somewhat heavy triangular shaped, iron object about 3 feet from top to
bottom.  At the top was a two inch wide collar to which two pieces of flat iron bar were rigidly
welded.  The pieces spread progressively so that the bottom ends were about 2 feet apart. 8
inches from the collar, two cuffs of iron were welded and, at the bottom of the flat pieces, there
was a crosspiece that went through eyes on two more cuffs.  At first I didn't immediately see how
the thing worked.
     "I'll hold her Hans while you do the honors," Don said fiendishly.
     Hans opened the collar, placed it around my neck and locked it shut.  This forced me to
bend forward, the rest of the apparatus dangling downwards.  Ken moved a chair under me so I
could sit down as Hans locked my hands into the cuffs below the collar.  He finished by securing
my ankles in the cuffs that could slide back and forth on the bottom cross bar.
     "Let's see you get out of that," Don challenged and stepped back so Ken could get
pictures.  "Ken, use the camcorder and I'll lead her out into the big room."  He hooked a chain
several feet in length to the front of the collar and lifted me so that I was standing on my feet in 
a
very bent posture.  With a tug on the chain, I had to start waddling forward to keep from falling
on my face.
     "Oh, Don, be careful," I yelled.  With each step the ankle cuffs twisted a little forcing my
body to twist as well, and several times I nearly stumbled.  When we finally reached the center of
the room, Don hooked the chain around a post.
     "Diabolical thing, isn't it?  Just where it got its name is not clear to me.  The bottom piece
is similar to the bilboes and probably both come from the same country.  Now, we are going to
leave you to enjoy life for a while but I'll be back in plenty of time for you to dress for dinner
tonight."
     "Don, if you leave me like this, I swear you will regret it.  I'll make your life so
miserable...." but my words trailed off as they left and shut the door.
     It was pretty obvious that there was no way for me to get out of the thing nor could I
move very far in the room.  So for a while I just stood there.  My back began to hurt from being
bent over and I longed to stand up straight.  Perhaps if I got down on the floor I would be more
comfortable but how was I to get there?  I knew I couldn't fall forward nor sideways, so I
lowered my behind as much as possible, held my breath and toppled backwards, landing high on
my rump and then rolling up my back.
     The partially controlled fall pulled on my poor neck and now my feet were up in the air
somewhat, my garment riding up over my thighs.  The next move was to try lying on my side and
this worked out quite well.  My feet slid together and I found I could relax a little which eased 
the
strain o my still curved spine.  And there I lay until the door opened and Don walked in.
     "Hi, Pat.  Fancy meeting you here.  Comfortable?"
     "You beast.  I'm going to get you if it's the last thing I do."
     "Let's see if I can rearrange things a little, my pretty one."  He put an arm around my
waist and lifted, rolling me face down in such a way that I was balanced on my forehead, my
hands, my knees and my toes.  To stabilize me a little he forced me to spread my legs, sliding my
ankles apart on the bar.
     "That's no better, darn you," I exclaimed.
     Then he pulled the bottom of my garment up onto my back, exposing my bare rump and a
few other things.  With his hand he paddled me a few times but they were playful slaps.  I
immediately became aroused, even more so when he kissed and nipped one upper thigh.  The next
thing I knew, he had pushed his pants down and was kneeling between my legs and his erect penis
was rubbing my wet folds.
     I moaned as he entered me a short way and then said a loud, "No," when he pulled out. 
He did this twice more eliciting a louder plea on my part.
     "What do you want, Pat?"
     "You know what I want.  Please."
     "Tell me, and be appropriately respectful."
     "I want you in me."  A hand came down hard on my rump, stinging me, and he again
pulled back.
     "That wasn't very respectful.  And you had better retract those threatening statements you
made a while ago."
     "Sir, I'm sorry.  I retract them and regret saying them.  I want you to make love to me.
Whenever you're ready, and I hope it is real soon.  Please."
     This time he penetrated deeply and I pushed back to engulf him.  What followed could not
be called gentle but it was deliriously glorious.  Afterwards he gently lay me on my side, unlocked
collar, wrists and ankles, and curled around me, holding my sweating body close.
     Later, hand in hand, we went upstairs and I headed for the bathroom and then took a nap.


                          CHAPTER ELEVEN

     It was Sarah who awakened me.
     "Wake up, sleepy head.  Time for you to take a shower and get ready for an exciting
evening with our friends, the Monroe's.  I'll tell you a little about them but want to leave a few
surprises.  I want you to wear the light blue, full length latex dress I gave you soon after Don
brought you here.  Don't worry, some of the other guests will be in latex or Lycra, and others,
including myself, will be in leather.  Everyone there shares interests that are a little 
unconventional
and I know this includes you."
     As she talked, sitting on the edge of my bed, I was already getting a little keyed up in
anticipation.
     She continued, "Our hosts are Bill and Nancy Monroe.  They are a little older than we but
are very exciting people.  Their daughter is Georgia and she is home from college.  A very
stunning young woman I might add.  Don can't wait to present you to them.  He thinks you are a
very special person as do I, and I believe you are in for quite an evening.  Now get your body in
motion and let me know if you need help getting dressed."
     With that she leaned forward, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and left the room.  I
showered and then spent a little extra time brushing my short hair and putting on more makeup
than I usually wore.  Then I took out the latex dress.  It was really almost an evening gown and
the material felt wonderful to my touch.  For a moment I pondered what to wear underneath it but
realized that anything in the way of a bra or panties would produce ridges through the thin rubber. 
So the answer was nothing.  I carefully applied talcum powder to my body and stepped into the
gown, slowly easing it up into position.  It had a low, sort of circular neckline and was 
sleeveless. 
The dress reached almost to the floor with a side cut that only came up to my knees.  When I
managed to full up the concealed zipper in the back, my breasts were raised and accentuated by
the material and my nipples were quite obvious, more so because they immediately became erect
as I looked at myself.  I put on low pumps, the same color as my dress, and walked around my
room getting used to the tightness and wonderful feel of the dress.  I knew that going down the
stairs to where I hoped Don would be waiting was going to be interesting.
     And yes, both he and Sarah were there smiling at me.  I reached down and pulled the dress
up a little to give my knees a little more room.  Descending the staircase, I could see that Don had
on a white shirt and dark brown leather pants with a gold chain around his neck.  Sarah was
wearing a black leather jumpsuit with a wide belt cinched in the middle by a pair of what appeared
to be real handcuffs.  A one-inch studded leather collar went around her throat.  Both looked
exciting, especially Don.
     When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Don came over and embraced me, letting his
hands wander down over my bottom.  It was almost as if I wasn't wearing anything for the latex
was like a second skin.
     He whispered, "I love you."
     And I answered, "I love you, too."
     He then opened a small velvet box with the Cartier name on top.  In it were simple gold
earrings, a gold chain choker and a gold bracelet.  I gave him a long kiss and felt his body push
against mine.  Sarah helped me get the earrings through my pierced lobes and then Don insisted
on putting on the bracelet 
     "Pat, this is a love bracelet which you won't be able to take off without this little gold
screwdriver."
     I watched fascinated as it went around my wrist and he tightened two little screws.  Then
he picked up the necklace which consisted of a moderately heavy gold chain.  It was made with a
inch gold heart at one end and a rectangular open link at the upper.  Don went behind me and
placed the chain around my neck.  When he inserted the link into the side of the heart, I heard a
snap, and when he removed his hands letting the heart rest at about the level of my clavicles, I
could see a small keyhole in the center of the heart.  Since the length of the chain was relatively
short, I realized that only by unlocking the heart could it be removed.
     "Oh Don, it's so beautiful.....and I know you have the key to my heart.  Thank you very
much," and gave him a warm embrace and an open mouth kiss.  I could feel a part of his anatomy
poking my pubis and knew we were both enjoying the moment.
     "Come on you two lovebirds," said Sarah.  "Ed has to work late but will be joining us for
dinner so I'm riding with you"
     When I saw the Monroe's home, I began to think that everyone in the area lived in big
houses on large pieces of real estate.  We parked in the circular drive and were met at the door by
our hosts to whom I was introduced.  "Bill and Nancy, I want you to formally meet Pat
Anderson," Don said.
     "Welcome to our home, Pat," Bill replied.  "We sort of know you already.  First you
appeared as a gilded statue and the second time as a poor wench hanging in a cage.  In both cases
you weren't wearing very much.  And now we have the honor of your presence dressed in
something that looks out of this world."
     "Bill, stop drooling or I will change the seating arrangements for dinner.  Come in Pat and
make yourself at home," Nancy said.  She was dressed in a white Lycra jumpsuit with a white
leather belt and boots.  Bill looked to be in his early 50's and looked like he was very fit.  He 
was
dressed in a black T-shirt, black pants and a black leather dinner jacket.  His waist was narrow
and his pectoralis and neck muscles were very well developed.  My hand sort of disappeared in his
when we shook hands.
     I wondered where Georgia, the daughter, was as we walked through the entrance hall and
down two steps into a very informal living room with large leather covered chairs and sofas
arranged around a large, almost colonial appearing fireplace.  The room looked very comfortable
and obviously was where the family spent a good amount of time.
     On one side there was a large television but as I scanned the room my eyes became riveted
on a corner to the right of where we were all standing.  There was a slightly raised, three foot
square wooden platform with a vertical 4x4 inch post that was about 7 feet high.  Bound to this
post was what first appeared to be a glistening pink statue.  Then I realized that it was a woman
wrapped tightly from head to toe with multiple, thin layers of pink plastic.  Her back was against
the post and her arms were behind it.  It was obvious that she had large breasts, a narrow waist
and beautiful thighs, emphasized by the wrapping.  My heart started racing just looking at her.
     "Yes, Pat, that's our daughter, Georgia, home from medical school where she is trying to
become a doctor," Bill said.
     "Did she do something wrong," I blurted out.
     "Oh no.  She just has a lot of energy and this is one way we have of slowing her down for
a few minutes.  It was largely her own idea."
     "Can she breathe okay and how long has she been wrapped up like that?" I asked.
     "Yes, there are holes over her nostrils.  And she is trying to go one hour which will be up
about the time we sit down for dinner.  Go ahead and feel her or try to talk to her, but you'll find
she can't talk back. We're going out on the veranda off the dining room for drinks.  Take your
time and come out when you're ready," Nancy said.
     Don hung back a little and said to me, "Intriguing, isn't she?  Don't torment her too much. 
And what would you like to drink?"
     "A weak gin and tonic if they have it, or white wine, and I'll be right out."
     I walked up to the bound figure, wondering whether she had heard the conversation. 
Very gently I ran my hands over her breasts and outlined her nipples.  I could hear her suck in her
breath and she moaned softly as I touched the side of her neck and face.  I was sure that she was
aroused but she did not move an inch.  My own excitement was building steadily.
     "Can you hear me, Georgia?" I whispered and got no response.  I caressed her some more
and then impulsively embraced her, molding my body to hers with my arms around hers.  My lips
pressed against the layers of plastic covering hers and her breath coming from the two small holes
became more rapid as she moaned louder.
     Just before I started to grind my pelvis against hers, I came to my senses and backed off. 
It was almost a whine that came from the figure.  Standing there beside her and knowing that she
was pleading for more attention, I was trying to figure out why I was so aroused and was also
feeling guilty of taking advantage of a person I barely knew.  I decided that I had better just join
the others.
     Don whispered to me, "Pat you look a little flushed. Are you okay?"  I nodded and he
handed me my drink.
     Sarah's husband joined us and for a while we sat around talking about one thing or
another, and they made me feel I was part of the group.  Then Georgia came out, dressed in a
simple white, cotton dress with a low neckline that showed the upper portion of her breasts.  She
had shoulder length, naturally blond hair and was very attractive.  We were introduced and when
we shook hands, she seemed reluctant to let go but maybe this was just my imagination.
     The remaining seat at the outside table was across from me so I really didn't have a
chance to talk to her.  But when we went in for dinner, I was seated on Bill's right, and she was
next to me.  Dinner was delicious although I was a little tense for multiple reasons.  For one 
thing,
I was fascinated by the maid who came in wearing high heeled shoes, a sleeveless. Tight fitting
black knit blouse, short black rubber skirt, white short apron, white wristlets and a white cap. 
When she turned and I could see her back, she was for all purposes nude for the shirt and skirt
were entirely open in the back save for a strip of black cloth around her waist, the apron strap and
the skirt belt.  While she was serving Don, I saw him look at me and with his hand feel her
buttock, knowing that I was watching.  I swore I was going to get even at some point.
     Then I heard Georgia in a soft voice ask, "Well, what did you think of the statue in the
living room?"
     I blushed a little and replied, "How did you know it was me?  Did you hear us talking?"
     "No, they plugged my ears with wax so I couldn't hear a thing, but I guessed it was you
when you touched me so gently."
     "How did you feel wrapped up like that?"
     "I loved it, except you left me a few seconds too soon."
     "But how does it really feel?  Were you hot?  Can you breathe okay?  Can you see
anything?  Do you get tired?"
     "You sure have a lot of questions, and I think I'm not going to give you answers.  If you
don't suffer from claustrophobia, I'd love to help you find the answers."
     "Hm," I murmured and then realized that people were getting up from the table.  I told
Bill and Nancy that the dinner had been great, wondering whether we soon would be going home. 
At that point they turned to rest of us and announced that they had something new to show us. 
Don squeezed my hand and we followed the group downstairs to a "playroom" where I was
amazed to see a big X-frame, several harnesses, assorted straps, a rack of garments, some of
which were obviously latex, a gas mask and a few other things.  In the center of the room was a
foot high rectangular platform about 3 feet wide and 8 feet long.  The platform seemed to have a
2 inch thick black mattress covered my a rectangular metal frame on which was stretched a piece
of black rubber.  Nearby sat what looked like a vacuum cleaner except it had several dials and
knobs.  There was a small utility bar with stools, a small refrigerator, a small sink and a few 
liquor
bottles.  Beyond the bar, the room opened up to an indoor swimming pool.
     Bill stopped next to the platform, turned and asked Don, "Well, what do you think?"
     His reply was, "Bill, I knew you and Nancy would get one sooner or later.  And it looks
well designed.  Pat, do you know what you are looking at?"  I shook my head, not having a clue.
     Bill turned to his daughter and said, "Georgia, how about a demonstration?"
     "Sure, if you'll try to get Pat to follow.  And do you want me with or without clothes?"
     "That's up to you."
     Georgia kicked off her shoes and sat down on the platform, watching as her mother placed
padded leather cuffs around her ankles, attaching them with short straps to the adjacent corners of
the metal frame.  Then as her father started draping a black rubber sheet over the lower portion of
her body, Georgia pulled her dress over her head and off, revealing that she was wearing nothing
underneath.  I could feel a little urge in the region of my clitoris and looked down to see my
nipples standing erect.  I knew my hand in Don's was a little sweaty.
     Her father pulled the sheet up to her neck and watched as Nancy cuffed her wrists that
fastened to the frame above her head.  Nancy was now stretched out, flat on her back.  Her father
positioned what looked like an oral airway gadget that was part of the covering sheet, so that
Georgia could take it in her mouth and I saw that there was a strap that went around her head to
keep the airway from being dislodged..  Her parents then pulled the sheet taunt and placed a
second metal frame over the first.  These mated together in such a way as to compress the two
layers of rubber sheeting.
     Bill asked his daughter whether she was all set and there was a nod and a 'yep".  He then
attached a hose coming from the nearby machine to a receptacle on the side of the platform,
saying to rest of us that there were several holes in the bottom sheet from which stiff hoses
connected to the inside of the receptacle.
     "Now here we go.  Watch everyone."  He flipped on a switch on the machine and I heard
a motor rev up.  Watching the dials, he adjusted one of the knobs.  For a moment nothing seemed
to happen and then I saw the upper sheet begin to mould to Georgia's body.  This continued until
she was clearly outlined and held with no air pockets anywhere.  The sound of the motor
increased in pitch and then steadied as Bill made another adjustment.
     "Well, that's it, folks.  My new vacuum bed.  Pretty neat, don't you think.  Both Nancy
and I have tried it and it really feels great.  And to release he vacuum, all you have to do is flip
this switch."  The motor stopped and I could hear air rushing in between the two rubber layers. 
He took off the upper frame while Nancy unstrapped the cuffs, and Georgia emerged, smiling
with just a little saliva around her mouth.
     Her mother handed her a robe as Georgia said to me, "Okay, Pat, now it's your turn,
Really, you'll enjoy it."
     "No, I don't think....."
     "Come on, I dare you, and I know you'll get a kick out of it."
     I turned to Don who smiled and said, "It's up to you but I can't see you passing up an
opportunity like this."
     "Okay, Mr. Monroe, or Bill.  But unless I start yelling or doing something, I want to stay
in the thing longer than Georgia just to show her a thing or two."
     I climbed up the platform and watched as Nancy secured my ankles.  Sarah came over and
said, "I'll help you off with your dress, Pat."  I started to resist but she had already unzipped me
and with Bill easily holding my wrists, she and Nancy pulled the dress off.  Then I felt my hands
pulled above my head and the wrist cuffs were snugly applied.
     The rubber sheet that Bill was holding up was faintly yellow and almost completely
transparent.  As he explained to the group that this was an alternative to the black rubber, I saw
Georgia coming at me with the mouth piece or airway.
     "Pat, seriously, it works real well and is plenty big.  The strap holds it in place and
prevents you from accidentally spitting it out and we'll watch you closely."
     In fact it seemed to fit in my mouth comfortably as the strap was pulled tight.  Suddenly I
felt the sheet pulled taunt.  I still could see vague shapes through the covering and heard the 
clang
of the second frame being positioned.  I jumped a little when the motor was turned on for I didn't
expect it to be so loud inside.  Then the sheet seemed to swarm around me getting tighter and
tighter.  I was forced to close my eyes as the sheet was drawn tightly around my head and the
pitch of the motor sound went up.  My toes were bent towards the foot of the table and my
fingers were flattened.  When I tried moving my head, I found I could not do a thing, partially
because of the attachment of the airway to the sheet but also because my head was held so tightly.
     And there I lay, completely immobile yet quite comfortable.  I was getting hot in more
ways than one and wondered whether Georgia or Don would touch me.  A moment later, I was
mentally begging for someone to touch me in various areas.  I realized that the upper sheet was
tight across my labia but I couldn't move enough to get it to stimulate me towards a climax.
     With the sound of the machine droning away, my mind raced through all sorts of
imaginative scenes and I enjoyed each one.  So when, I suddenly heard the motor stop, I was
basically disappointed.  It had been a far too short, wonderful and very stimulating experience.
     When the sheet was removed, everyone clapped and smiled at my sweaty body.
     "Thanks every one.  It was sort of fun.  How long was I in it?"
     "About half as long as I," said Georgia.  "But we wanted to have time to demonstrate the
other side of the machine.  Come on, Mom and Dad.  Give me a hand."
     "Now what are you going......?" I started to ask.
     "Shush.  Just relax and enjoy it, " Georgia commanded.  Nancy by this time was releasing
my ankles but my hands were still tied.  I saw Don looking at me with a big grin on his face.
     Nancy with her husband's strong help then inserted my legs into what looked a little like
the pant legs of a green rubber, deep sea diver's suit.  The suit appeared to have two layers, both
of which were quite loose but it did catch under my breasts momentarily.  Georgia did the honors,
pushing my boobs down. Only then did they release my wrists which they immediately pushed into
the arms of the suit.
     Bill continued to hold my arms in front of me and Nancy held my ankles as Georgia
inserted a small earphone into one of my ears.  The wire ran to the side of the hood which she
began to draw forward over my head, presenting me with another airway.
     "Pat, take it in your mouth like a good little girl or I'll make you.  It's just like the other
except it has a more complex tube arrangement which I will explain to you later."
     "Georgia, please tell me what this is all about."
     These were my last words as she shoved the mouthpiece into position and pulled the hood
down to my neck level where I could feel it being fastened with some type of zipper arrangement. 
I was breathing rapidly but easily although there seemed to be no holes for my nostrils nor were
there any eye holes, so again I was in darkness with absolutely no light coming in.
     Then I sort of felt something being connected to my suit near the belt line and wondered
whether the air was going to be evacuated.  There was an electronic click in the earphone and
then I heard Bill's voice asking, "Are you okay, Pat?"  I nodded and said yes around the airway. 
"Fine, now just relax.  You won't be harmed.  Perhaps I should tell you that you are inside two
layers of strong rubber.  There are short bands running between the layers so the layers cannot be
separated more than a designed distance.  This may be confusing to you now but you will soon
understand.  Sorry, but the motor will again be loud for a while."
     The earphone clicked off, the motor came on with a roar, and the expected collapse of the
inner layer against my body occurred but this time I felt my body being lifted up off the table, my
legs stiffened out away from each other and my arms moved until they were straight out from my
sides.  I then realized that air was being forced between the two layers and I was being blown up
inside a balloon-like suit.  The pressure build up steadily until I began to worry whether I would
be able to breathe.
     Suddenly the motor stopped but the pressure remained steady.  The earphone clicked on
and Bill's said, "Pat, there are several sensors that are picking up you heart beat and respiratory
rate so we know you are okay.  We will continue to monitor you closely.  Now I am changing
microphones so you can hear everyone in the room.  The hose has been detached from your suit
and valves are keeping the air from escaping.  I know you are hot because we are also using a
thermal pickup against your skin.  The airway was a special tube arrangement as Georgia said. 
You will be breathing room air but should the airway be occluded on the outside in anyway, there
is a special tank behind you head that will give you oxygen and feed your exhaled air out.  Now
I'm switching mikes.  Stand by?"
     There was a click and then I heard room noise.  Some one said, "You look like you've put
on a lot of weight, Pat."  "Talk about being blown up!" came from another source.  "Let's stand
her up. Can we do that?"  "Sure. I'll give you a hand."
     I sensed the change in position although I couldn't feel any hands.  Now I was suspended
and felt the support under my crotch, around my waist and under my arms.  Then I felt myself
being bounced followed by a sudden fall backwards and a rebound.  "Sorry about that," someone
said.  "Let's get her in the pool where we can really play with her."
     My God, were they really going to do that.  I tried moaning but doubted whether anyone
heard me.  I was carried along smoothly until I was swung to the side and heard a splash in the
earphone.  Obviously I was now floating on the surface of the pool right side up.  Then I sensed
something pushing me down and heard Georgia's voice, "I bet I can stay on top of her longer
than anyone else."  There was more splashing but finally I heard Don say, "I think she's had
enough," and Bill agreed.
     When they took me out of the inflatable suit I was still at pool side.  Don, Bill and Georgia
were there, the others having departed.  I knew I hadn't been hurt in any way and it sure had been
a unique experience, so I smiled and said, "What's next?"  They seemed relieved that I wasn't
mad and watched as I dove in the pool to get cooled off and rid myself of the sweat.  Don
wrapped a big towel around me as I climbed the ladder.
     "You really are a neat person, Pat," said Georgia.  "I don't think I could go through that. 
What was it like?"
     Repeating her answer earlier I said, "I don't think I'm going to give you the answer, but if
you don't suffer from claustrophobia. I'll be glad to help you find the answer." She laughed.
     Don said, "Sarah has taken your blue latex dress so keep the big towel on."
     As we walked up the stairs I turned to Bill and said, "I really have had a great and
memorable evening, and think you're great people, even Georgia here.  I don't know how it could
have been any more fun."
     Georgia said, "I do.  Pat, I know you are all keyed up from everything that has happened,
and if you go home now, you certainly are not going to be able to sleep.  I also know that you
secretly want to experience the Saran wrapping.  I don't think you can say that's not true.  So
how about it?  Or are you scared?"
     "How could I be scared after what I've been through?"  I looked at Don who smiled and
said it was up to me.
     "Dad, get the stuff before she changes her mind."
     I made good use of a nearby bathroom and when I returned they were ready for me with
multiple roles of the pink plastic.
     "I don't see the Saran label.  Is this something different?" I asked.
     "Yes, it is a type of shrink wrap and although still very thin, it is quite strong," Bill said. 
"Now stand on the platform and hold onto the post for support, but keep your body away from it. 
We'll do your feet first and then Nancy and I can both work at the same time."
     I lifted up one foot and watched as they wound on several layers.  After doing the same
with the other foot, they had me spread my legs and went to work, spiralling their way up towards
my groin.  The layers were tight but comfortable.  Then with my feet placed together, they
wrapped both legs and thighs together.  I began to notice that my legs felt warm and somewhat
sweaty.
     Just before the two of them started up over my pelvis, Georgia pushed her roll between
my upper thighs and pulled upwards covering my vagina and clitoris.  I gave a little moan and felt
them continue up my torso, taking care to nip in by waist and then to crisscross around my
breasts, making the protrude more than usual before they covered them with several layers.
     "You're doing fine, Pat," said Bill.  "Now just lean back against the post.  I'll shove your
heels against it as Georgia starts on your arms."
     I felt her wrap each arm separately and then she bound them tightly together.  As she
worked her way towards my shoulders, my elbows were drawn together until they touched. 
Looking forward I could see Don sitting on a sofa watching my skin slowly disappear beneath the
layers of pink plastic.  With a word of reassurance, Georgia pushed some wax stuff into my ear
canals and suddenly my view was lost as Bill wound a layer around my face.
     "Don't worry, Pat.  I'll puncture the layer right over your nostrils after each two or three
layers."  And this is exactly what he did.  I was now wrapped completely except but it didn't stop
there.
     They started at my ankles again, this time carrying the layers tightly around the post as
well as my body.  This included my arms and then my head when they reached those levels.  I was
now rigidly held in position and found I could no longer move anything.  I couldn't even bow or
turn my head which was pushed firmly against the post.  I stood there savouring my feelings and
feeling the sweat and juices pooling in my crotch
     My next sensation was of some flat and very warm surface being pushed and moved over
every inch of my body.  The wrappings got even tighter and I thought of the meat cutters in the
markets, sealing the chops and things using a similar heat sealer.  No longer could I hear anything
but I certainly felt some ones hands moving and caressing me.  As my body responded some one's
body pressed tightly against mine and I wondered whether it was Don or Georgia.
     After a period in which nothing happened, the post and I were tipped until I was
horizontal and I then had the sensation of being carried, face down, placed in some type of
vehicle, a truck I imagined, and driven for quite a distance.  The carrying business was repeated
and then I was lying face down on a soft surface.  The next thing that occurred was a surprise. 
Somebody was moving close to me and I was no longer held tightly against the post which was
then pulled out from between my arms and my body.
     I was rolled onto my back and the layers of plastic between my legs and thighs were cut.  I
gasped as fingers played with my labia and clitoris, my passion mounted and then someone
mounted me.  From the way it felt, I knew it was Don and I felt I was in heaven.


                          CHAPTER TWELVE

     Over the next few days, I led a rather idyllic life.  We arose early each morning, went for a
run or a swim, had breakfast and then usually went our separate ways until late in the afternoon. 
Don spent some time working in his shop or doing business things and I explored the place,
helped Clara or read in the library.  He had many books on the medieval ages which I scanned,
fascinated by some of the pictures and drawings.  I could find nothing to explain the term
"Scavengers Daughter".  Also, I found one small pamphlet on pony girls and noted that there was
a rather large space next to it on the shelf as if several books were missing or in use elsewhere.
     I wondered whether Don had taken these, maybe to keep me from seeing them or to
increase my inquisitiveness.  The pamphlet described what an "owner" should look for in a
potential pony girl such as body build, stamina, spirit, etc. and said that it usually took a period 
of
training to identify good prospects, the period varying according to the intensity and quality of 
the
trainers together with the commitment and calibre of the trainee.  I spent some time thinking
about this but didn't discuss it with Don at the time.
     We usually had a drink and dinner at home and Hans and Clara would join us. 
Occasionally, Don and I would eat at some nearby restaurant.  Although we were in some ways
acting like old married couples, our late evening and night activities were a crazy mix of teasing,
cuddling, bondage in various devices, foreplay, role contests and wonderful love making.
     On about the third morning after the evening with the Monroe's I asked him what he was
doing in his shop.
     "Well, let me make one long distance call and then maybe I can show you," he said. 
About 25 minutes later, he returned and said, "Okay, let's go, but you may be sorry."
     I looked at him quizzically but followed him downstairs.  I was wearing a sports bra, low
cut panties, shorts, sandals and, of course, the chain collar and the bracelet which I couldn't
remove even if I wanted to.  
     "If you're game, let's make this sort of a surprise," Don said when we reached the big
room near his shop.  I told him I liked surprises.  "I know you do.  Now I'm going to blindfold
you and then put in leather cuffs.  Okay?"
     I nodded and stood still while he covered my eyes with leather pads on a strap that
fastened around my head.  The I felt the cuffs being snugged and locked on my wrists.  He then
threaded a thin but strong chain through the D-rings of the cuffs and a moment later my hands
were being hauled towards an overhead pulley until there was a slight strain on my arms but my
heels were still comfortably on the floor.
       "Don't go away now, Pat.  I have to get something from the shop."
     I could hear him return a moment later and then his hands were opening my shorts and
pushing them as well as my panties down and off, removing my sandals in the process.  Now I
was nude from my bra down and already was getting aroused.
     He kissed me rather ardently and then said, "Spread your legs as far apart as you can and
then try not to move for the next few minutes.  I'm not going to hurt you in any way."
     "I trust you, Don, and you know I can take some degree of pain.  What are you going to
do?"
     There was no answer, but then I felt something like a stiff leather belt being placed around
my waist and something cold and metallic touched me near my tail bone. One of his hands went
from front to back between my upper thighs (I thrilled at his touch) and then a broad band of
metal was brought forward and up to attach to the front of the belt.
     As he snugged the belt and the band together I realized I was now wearing a chastity belt.
"You devil," I said as I heard a lock click closed.  Then he removed the blindfold followed by my
cuffs.  I looked down to see a beautiful dark reddish brown leather belt covered by shiny steel
encircling my waist tightly.  The band going down between my legs was also of steel and it had
been moulded to fit very snugly.  I put a finger down and traced it back to where it covered my
vagina.  And 'cover it' was right.  There were small perforations in that area and then the band
narrowed to cover my anus.  At the end near the back of my belt, the band was again became
somewhat wider.  The lock in front was no toy.  I stood there knowing my nipples and my crotch
were asking for attention.
     "Don, it's beautiful.  You can take it off now."
     "No, it's going to stay on for awhile.  I do want to explain however that it is not yours.  It
was made for your friend, Indira.  I just talked to Rahjiv and he gave me permission to use it on
you providing you didn't harm it in any way before he had a chance to imprison his wife in it. 
(Readers will probably have met these characters in Part One of these adventures.)
     "You bastard.  I wish I had one to put on you."
     "Well, Pat, there was an old one for males around here someplace but I haven't seen it for
months or years and it was pretty rusty when it was given to me.  I never did anything with it so
you can forget that.  Get your shorts back on and I'll see you at dinner.  By the way, we've got to
talk tonight about pony girls."
     For a few minutes after he left, I just walked around getting the feeling of the thing I was
now wearing.  It was fairly comfortable although the sides of the band between my legs cut in a
little.  In the bathroom mirror, the chastity belt reflected the light and looked neat.  But the
bathroom reminded me that I had to urinate and this was going to be a problem.  With no other
solution obvious, I sat down on the toilet and let go.  The result would have been hilarious on
anyone else but on me it was a mess with urine leaking out through the holes and down my
buttocks.  The next few minutes were spent in trying to effectively wash and dry myself.
     Then I tried my best to get a finger in under the band and did succeed in touching my
clitoris but just barely and there was no way I was really going to be able to stimulate things to
the point of an orgasm
     Vowing to get revenge, I went looking for Hans who I found out in the barn.  "Hans, I
need some help, but first I want to explain why?  You know that Don and I are getting along very
well, and I realize that you think very highly of him, but sometimes he does some things that make
me want to get even.  And this is one of them.  Look what he just locked onto me."
     I pushed my shorts down and Hans burst out laughing. 
     "Guess, he wants you all to himself.  I don't blame him but can see your point.  How can I
help?"
     "Well, he tells me that there used to be a rusty, old, male chastity belt around here some
where.  I'd love to find it and see how he likes being locked up, so to speak."
     Hans replied, "I sort of remember it but am not sure where it is.  Lets check the cabinets in
the storeroom but be prepared for a mess."
     It took us quite a while but ultimately I was holding a dusty, rusty means of revenge. 
Hans showed me how to use a wire brush to get most of the rust off and we oiled the hinges,
polished the outside surfaces and found a lock that would work.  Now the big question was how
we could talk Don "into it".  Hans was reluctant to try holding the victim while I did my dirty
work, and I didn't have any access to knockout pills or anaesthetics to use on him.
     Then Hans said, "But I am just finishing a new pillory built to a new design with four wrist
holes, two for men's wrists and two for women's.  Maybe I can get him to try the thing.  Why
don't you hide in the storeroom after lunch and I'll see if I can lure him down."
     The plan worked perfectly.  Don was excited about seeing the new pillory and wanted to
make sure the holes were the right size so accepted Hans' suggestion and allowed the two
crosspieces to be closed around neck and wrists.  Hans slid pins into place locking the pillory and
stepped back.
     "Yes, it works just fine, Hans.  Get another coat of polyurethane on it and I'll let the buyer
know he can pick it up in a day or so.  You can let me out now and maybe I'll use Pat to check
the other wrist holes.  I might even keep her in this until dinner."
     I walked in, smiled and stood in front of him.  "Don, I don't think I like that idea.."
     "Er, Hans, you'd better let me out of this.  Hans, where are you going? Hans, come back
here this instant.......," but Hans had left the room.
     "Now, let's see.  Don, first of all you look very nice in that thing.  Your hair is a little
mussed up but I love your hind quarters sticking out like that," I said, walking around him.
     "Pat, darling.  I love all of you.  Now if you'll just unlock this...."
     "No, Don. I have a better idea.
     I loosened his belt, unzipped him and lowered his pants and shorts until they were around
his ankles. After taking off his shoes, I pinched and tickled him until he had withdrawn his feet
from the bunched up clothes.  I walked behind him and pulled his hind end against my pelvis so he
could feel the chastity belt.  His penis responded nicely.
     "Oh, you naughty boy, getting all excited like that.  I bet you'd like me to kiss you down
there.  But I have other ideas."
     The way he was standing, he really couldn't see what I was doing when I started by
placing the old metal belt around his waist.  It was a good fit and I knew the cold metal on his
skin was a surprise.  There was no layer of leather to make it more comfortable.  The belt had a
band attached and hinged at the back just like mine, but the front was vastly different.  The most
predominant feature was a metal tube, studded on the inside and designed to slip over the penis
when the organ was flaccid.  Also, there were loops of steel to go around the testicles. 
Everything was welded together with the band finishing with a broad piece that fitted over a
welded ring in the front of the belt such that the band and the belt could be locked together.
     Letting him stand there, I went to the bathroom, let the water run for a moment and
returned with a large class of ice cold water. I proceeded to pour this on his genitalia which
partially did the trick and a painful pinch of his foreskin did the rest.  As he cursed me, I 
slipped
the loops over his balls and threaded his penis into the tube of metal.  When I finally pulled the
band up and locked it, his penis was held in a vertical position close to his body.  I found myself
getting a little sorry for him, knowing that any erection was going to not only be markedly limited
by the diameter of the tube but also painful.
     "Pat, you little vixen.  I'll give you five minutes to get me out of this."
     "Now let's see.  I have been in my chastity belt for about three hours and think you should
at least enjoy equal time.  I will however take you out of the pillory," which I did.
     He immediately grabbed me and wrestled me down onto the floor after which he went
through my pockets, checked inside my bra (which was sort of fun), and then sat back on my
thighs.
     "Pat, I give you credit.  I didn't expect this.  Now tell me where the key is."
     "Don, I have a better idea.  Why don't we see who can last longer in these things, you or
I?"
     "Fine with me."
     "But two things.  First, we have to spend the time together and second, I want to watch
you piss."
     He just shook his head, got up and went to look at himself in the mirror, coming out of the
bathroom laughing.
     The next few hours were interesting.  He initially tried to do some office work and I
settled down with a book.  At one point I went over to him and nibbled on his ear while he was
typing.  He groaned and gave me a playful swat.  Later watching him urinate was hilarious.  At
least he had a stream out through the end of the tube, but it arched and went over the back of the
toilet.
     It all ended when he pulled me onto the couch, held both my hands in one of his, and
proceeded to explore the rest of my body.  I was soon aching for more and more attention and for
release of the torrent that was building inside of me.  I also knew he was suffering so by common
consent we unlocked each other and gave in to our passion.


                          CHAPTER TWELVE

     A few hours later as we lay entwined, he asked, "Pat, do you want to explore the pony girl
thing?  Cause if you do, it's on for tomorrow."
     "Yes, I still can't quite believe it or imagine what it's all about, but I want to do it my 
way. 
I want to be a pony girl trainee or whatever the term is.  I want to commit to it, not be pampered
as your guest, and not be asked every five minutes whether everything is okay.  What ever the
program intensity, I want it to last until I flunk out or am accepted as possibly a good but
inexperienced pony girl."
     "Pat, I admire you for that and thought that might be your approach.  I think I agree to it
although it may be also hard on me.  Under those circumstances, the trainers might well not allow
me to see you for a few days.  But that would make my plans in the city a little easier."
     "If they include any intimate time with your secretary, Gloria, you'll really live to regret
it."
     "Pat, I'm madly in love with you and thinking seriously of asking you to be my wife. 
Since we have only been together for a short time, I'm not proposing at this minute but I do want
you to know that I am serious and want you to be thinking of how you might answer."
     I responded by climbing all over him and waking him up all over again.
     The next morning as we had breakfast, I asked what was going to happen and when did
we have to leave the house.  He just answered that he would let me know and I should be patient. 
When I inquired as to whether he had any books on pony girls, he said there were several in the
library and we went there together as the front door bell rang.  Sure enough, the shelf was now
full but as I started to look at the titles, Clara ushered in a man and a woman.  Both were clad in
working, Western style clothing with blue jeans, boots and shirts.  Her shirt had some pretty
embroidery.  He was carrying a small duffel bag.
     Don greeted them saying, "Hi, Phyllis and Jack.  You are right on time."
     They shook his hand and Jack said. "It's good seeing you again, Don.  Marlene sends her
regards and says she misses you".
     Phyllis approached me and said, "We know your name is Pat.  Stand up and clasp your
hands behind you."
     As I stood I said, "It's nice to meet you. I guess..."
     "Quiet.  Well at least you are not fat.  Your hair is too short and you've got jewellery on,"
she said.  
     Don came over, took out a little key, removed the neck chain and used the small gold
screwdriver to take remove the bracelet.  He whispered, "I'll keep them safe for you," and gave
me a quick kiss.
     Phyllis glowered at him and Jack said to me, "I want you to sign this consent paper that
Don has already put his signature on and his cook can witness your signing."
     I glanced over the long legal-sized page but couldn't really concentrate on the words, so I
put my name where Jack indicated and Clara signed also.
     "Fine.  Now take off all your clothes, put your hands behind you again and don't even
think about saying anything," Phyllis said, interrupting my questions even before they reached my
mouth. Well, even though I hadn't expected this approach, it was a little late to object, so I
complied.
     Jack went behind me and, taking something from the duffle, placed some hinged cuffs on
my wrists.  Then a chain went around my waist with an extension that ran through my crotch and
fastened in from with a snap hook.  The next article was a plain two inch leather collar with D-
rings and a simple hasp closure.
     Phyllis said, "Pat, I know you are itching to ask questions and say things.  Until you learn
a few things, this temporary gag will help."
     She came at me with a ball gag and I said, "No, wait a moment. I want to tell Don,
mmmph." She thrust the ball into position and fastened its strap behind my head.  A braided
leather leash was snapped onto a collar ring and with a tug I was led towards the front door.
     "Don, we or Marlene will give you a call in a day or so about your pony.  She has nice
breasts and haunches but as you know, that's not what it takes," Jack said.
     "Bye, Pat.  Have fun.  I'll miss you," Don said as I was pulled down the front stairs
towards what looked like a regular double horse van.  The back ramp was already down and
when I got near the vehicle I could see that a full sized horse was standing in the right side.  
There
was hay on the floor and several large horse turds.  Jack led me up to the bar running across the
front of the interior and wrapped the lead several times around it.  The back of the vehicle was
closed by dropping a piece of canvas over the opening and swinging the ramp up.
     A moment later the vehicle lurched into motion.  Both the horse and I stumbled back a
step but the lead kept me going further.  I realized that I had stepped on one of the turds and the
stuff had come up between my toes.  Ugh.  And although there were some louvered openings in
the front of the small van, the air was heavy with horse smell.  From time to time the horse would
sway towards me and I would be pushed against the sidewall.  What a beginning to my training.
     It took about an hour to reach our destination and by that time both the horse and I were
covered in sweat.  After the ramp was lowered Jack backed the horse out first, saying that I was
not as valuable.  Then it was my turn.  Outside I could see that we were near a large, rambling
barn with an imposing home in the distance.  There were pastures, gardens, fenced in training
areas and even a small race track nearby.  Without a word, Jack led me over to a hitching rail and
tied the lead to it.
     A few minutes later he returned with a girl dressed in work denims.  She appeared to be
about 19 years of age and was a little overweight.
     Jack said to her, "This is our new possibility.  She's filthy, sweaty and completely
untrained.  Scrub her down, get a little oil on her, brush what little hair she has, and tie her to 
a
ring in the harness room.  Phyllis or I will meet you there in a while."
     After he left, the girl got a pail of warm, soapy water and said to me, "Nice pony.  Just
stand there and don't try to kick."  She began to wash and scrub me from the top of my head
down, sparing no parts.  "Oh, how I envy you.  I'd love to be in your place but don't have the
money it takes to be trained.  But at least I have a job here.  You have nice breasts and seem to be
in fairly good shape.  I hope you do well.  Maybe they will let me help in your training.  By the
way my name's Gert."
     When she was satisfied that I was reasonably clean, she hosed me down with cold water
which had me straining against my lead to duck the stream.  Gert even gave me a douche with it. 
Then she towelled me dry, brushed my hair and then covered me with a thin coating of some type
of brownish oil.  She used her hands to do this and spent a little extra time on my breasts and
between my legs to the point where I hoped she wouldn't stop.
     The inside of the barn was very imposing with several branching passageways, numerous
rooms and rows of stalls, some of which obviously contained horses that occasionally snorted or 
whinnied.  The tackle room was located down one of the side branches and was spotless with
large cabinets, a large number of wall pegs from which leather things hung, a rack for riding
crops, a trapeze bar that hung down from a pulley arrangement, and assorted other things.  Gert
tied my lead to a wall ring and sat on a stool to wait.
     It was Phyllis who joined us and chatted a few minutes with Gert before turning to me. 
"Pat, as a new pony girl you have a great deal to learn.  If you use your imagination it will all be
simple.  For instance, ponies cannot talk.  We will teach you to whinny and snort and you may be
able to communicate a little by your actions such as stamping a leg.  But no words.  Any attempt
to speak will result in severe gagging, whipping and other forms of punishment.  Also, if you give
us a hard time, you can expect to be sorry.  On the other hand, good behaviour and effort will be
rewarded.  Now I am going to get you into a basic training harness.  The things are old and
stained from use but still effective.  If you see a pony girl in shiny, new leather you'll know that
she is an advanced trainee or a registered pony girl worth a lot of money.  At this point, you on
the other hand are worthless."
     I glared at her and the gag kept me from replying.  She unlocked my wrist cuffs and
allowed me to move my arms around.
     "See, a trained pony can keep her arms behind her or anywhere else for long periods of
time whereas you don't even like an hour or so."  She took one hand and slipped it into a leather
gauntlet that reminded me of the gold ones I was in almost a week previously.  My fingers were
held in one compartment and my thumb in another.  The wrist area was laced tight, small straps
from the end of the finger and thumb areas were pulled towards my wrist, fastened there, and then
a leather band was locked around my wrist covering the laces and buckles.  My hand was now a
leathered covered fist.  As she did this, Gert did the same to my other wrist.  The gauntlets were
then hooked onto the ends of the trapeze using D-rings arising from the inside of the wrist band.
     "Gert, see if you can find some training boots for her, probably about a size 7 or 8 while I
get a belt on her."  She removed the chain from my waist and replaced it with a very wide, thick
leather belt which was easily 8 inches wide in the front, tapered down to about 4 inches on the
sides and then was again 8 inches in the back where it was held closed my three or four straps and
buckles.  As Phyllis tightened it, I realized I would have difficulty bending in any direction.  
There
were numerous D-rings and small loops in various places on the belt.
     By this time, Gert had returned and together they started getting my feet into the leather
boots that came to mid-calf.  The toes had very thick soles and arches that were curved upwards. 
After getting one boot laced up, I put my foot down and found myself standing on the toe area
with my heel held about two or three inches off the ground.  I pushed my foot down and my heel
did get lower but immediately sprang back up.
     "You catch on quickly, Pat," Phyllis said.  "The boots have a piece of spring metal in
them.  When you walk, trot, canter, etc. your heels should never hit the ground but the spring
steel will help propel you forward.  Incidentally, be careful walking on board floors because the
toe areas have metal pony shoes under them and may slip.  And should you try kicking, we will
assume that you are trying to seriously hurt someone.  Punishment for this is very severe.
     "Okay, next is your shoulder harness."  This turned out to be a vest-like affair with
cut-outs for my breasts.  It came almost down to the belt to which she attached it with numerous
short straps.  Initially, the shoulder harness had a wide V in the back but when she tightened some
cross straps, my shoulders were drawn backwards, thrusting my breasts out farther thru the
cut-outs.  
     Phyllis seemed very happy with the result and Gert said, "She'll look beautiful with nipple
bells."
     "Yes, if she ever earns them.  Now get me the head harness with blinders and a rubber bit,
Gert.  She still has her back teeth."  I was later to learn that some pony girls had their back 
molars
removed so that a steel bit could be used and the mouth almost closed.
     The bit was placed in my mouth and the harness pulled over my head with straps that
seemed to go all over the place. Including each side of my nose and under my chin.  When it was
tightened the bit pushed back on the corners of my mouth and I involuntarily said, "Errr".  Phyllis
stepped back and looked sternly at me but then she did loosen things a little.
     "Now we have to get you covered up a little down below."  She showed me a arched,
metal band that had a 1 inch star shaped hole at one point and an oblong slit about the same width
a little farther back.  "See, it even has openings so you can piss in a stream although your bowels
are a bit more of a problem."  She attached the band to the front and back of the lower edge of
the belt.  The band immediately reminded me of the chastity belt I had worn the previous day.
     The final piece was a wide leather collar that replaced the one I had on.  The collar pushed
up under my chin and the back of my head which now was held rigidly, with my chin high.  My
wrists were released from the trapeze and immediately fastened to the sides of my belt.
     I saw Phyllis walk over to a side rack and return with a riding crop.  Before I could take
any evasive action, I felt three quick lashes across my bare fanny and let out an "Owww".
     "What was that?  Ponies don't make noises like that."  This time I steeled myself and took
the lashes without any noise.  My fanny stung but not really bad.  I wished I could see the marks
and know I hadn't been cut.
     "Gert, take her to her stall, give her something to eat and leave her for a while.  We'll start
her training this afternoon.  "Oh, you can leave her bit out while she's there and , if you have 
time,
teach her to make a few pony sounds. but whip her if she talks."
     "Yes, ma'am," Gert replied.
     The stall was about 6 x 8 feet with wooden sides up to about 5 feet above floor level and
1 inch bars to the ceiling where there were thick old beams.  Some had eye bolts in them and there
were rings at several points around the stall.  The entrance door had a large hasp closure with a
chain that could be run through the hasp and clipped to a ring low on the door.  I knew that even
if I got my hands free, I was not going to be able to unfasten the chain.
     Gert led me inside, detached the lead from my collar and left closing the door securely
behind her.  As I looked about I could see a thick layer of hay in one corner and two wool
blankets lay on top.  Obviously this is where I was to sleep.
     I was about to lay down when Gert returned carrying two things that looked like big dog
bowls.  "Pat, one of these has a refreshing drink for you that is similar to Gatorade.  The other
doesn't look much but is actually a nutritious meal that just looks like oats.  We get it in dry 
form,
add a little water, and that's it.  I've tried it myself and it's not bad.  Because it's important, 
I
have to report what you eat, so do your best.  It will be awkward at first, but you'll manage."
     She set the bowls on a shelf in one corner of the stall, took out my bit, and watched as I
learned how to eat and drink from bowls without the use of my fettered and gloved hands. 
Actually, both the liquid and the mush or mash were both rather tasty and I was able to eat all of
the solid stuff.  Gert said I was a good little pony and offered me an apple which she held as I bit
and chewed.  I almost laughed at what I was doing, but felt that would be un-pony like and
resisted.  Then she did leave me.
     I lay down for a while but could not nap for I was just too excited.  Here I was, a young,
adult female woman, trying my best to adapt to the very foreign and kinky pattern of a pony girl. 
Well, my mother always told me to try my best no matter what the challenge.
     I must have fallen asleep for I was awakened by Gert nudging me with her foot.  She
helped me to stand and proceeded to teach me how to whinny.  My first efforts were hilarious and
earned me a few slaps with a leather strap.  But I finally succeeded in emitting something that
faintly resembled a horse and Gert seemed pleased.  She brushed the hay off me, replaced the bit,
attached a lead rope to the side of my halter and led me out of the barn to where Phyllis was
standing near a training circle.
     "Did she give you any trouble, Gert?"
     "No, she was just great.  And she ate everything, but I think she's holding back.  She
hasn't urinated or crapped since she arrived."
     "Pat, ponies don't have the best toilet training in the world.  Most of the pony girls don't
like going in their stalls, but basically, you should go when you feel the urge.  Just squat and let
fly.  Try to do your shitting before you start your training in the morning or before being locked 
in
for the night.  That way it is easier for us to keep you clean."
     I was embarrassed by the plainness of her language but at least a few questions had been
answered.  So I squatted and let fly with a stream that seemed for the most part to find the hole,
but a little did run down my thigh when I stood.  They just smiled at me.
     "Now Pat, I want you to watch one of our guest pony girls who will be coming out in a
minute.  She is an excellent show pony and you can learn from watching her go through her
paces."
     Out from another part of the barn came a beautiful, black girl in a leather helmet with
glistening skin and shiny harness.  She was pulling a small sulky driven by a young man.  Her long
black hair was in a pony tail that almost reached her waist and from her rear, a long black tail
curved downwards, apparently arising from the strap that went between her legs.  She was
walking with a moderate gait, her knees rising almost to the level of her hips with each stride. 
Little bells attached to her harness jingled in pace with her and, although her actions seemed a
little artificial there was a grace and beauty about her movements.  I watched carefully as she was
made to walk faster, then canter and finally trot.
     Phyllis explained, "There are basically three types of pony girls.  She is a show pony.  We
also have racing ponies that are trained for their speed and finally we have work ponies, trained to
be strong and used to plow some of our gardens and fields, haul wagons and, hopefully, win
pulling contests.  If you do well, you may qualify in one of the categories.  So, let's get to 
work."
     She led me into a fenced in ring and attached a long rope to a ring on my collar, picked up
a long, rather wicked looking whip, walked about twelve feet from me and commanded, "Walk,
pony."
     I felt a little nip on my rear and lurched into motion, feeling the rope exert a pull on my
neck and forcing me to walk in a circle.
     "Good," Phyllis said.  "Keep steady tension on the rope.  No closer or farther from me
than right now.  And that's a good pace.  Try to look like the other pony.  Raise your knees up a
little higher and keep your head and shoulders real steady."
     As I completed a circle, I could see little horseshoe marks in the dirt and realized they
were mine.  Then, I felt the whip sting my bare thighs and the rope tugged at my collar.
     "Your head should be up.  Don't try to look at the ground.  Knees higher."
     She lashed me again, causing me to jump a little and glare at her.
     "Whoa, pony."  She came over to stand in front of me.  "Pat, keep that up and you'll flunk
out.  I thought you were made of better stuff.  Show me I was right.  Now let's start again."
     Determined, I set out again, trying to mimic what I had seen and what Phyllis had told me. 
In a few minutes, I seemed to fall into a much smoother pattern and was rewarded by some
reassuring remarks followed by a command to walk faster.  Then she stopped me and explained
that a canter was primarily a run, whereas a trot was sort of a skip.  Trotting was awkward, rarely
used by pony girls and wouldn't be taught me at first.  On command, I started walking again and
then she urged me into a run or canter as she called it.  I soon was sweaty, a little tired and knew
that my rhythm was getting irregular with an occasional stumble.
     "Slow to a walk, Pat.  Twice more around and then stop."  I felt her release the rope but
was wise enough not to look at her.  "That was pretty good, Pat, for your first session."
     She snapped a short lead on the side of my halter and led me to a little water bubbler that
was activated my pushing down with me mouth.  The stream of water came up a short distance
and I found it possible to swallow a little despite the bit across my mouth.  I was almost tried to
say thanks but then decided to nod my head up and down.
     Phyllis smiled at me and said, "You're welcome, and you're learning.  Now I'm going to
see how much stamina you have as well as hopefully get you back into that nice pattern you had
for a few minutes.  And I want to adjust your harness a little and try your arms in a different
position.  Hold still for a moment."
     She unfastened my wrists from where they were hooked onto my wide belt and had me
hold them away from my body while she tightened up most of the straps.  Now the band between
running through my crotch was pushing in more, my shoulders were farther back, my waist was
smaller and my breasts were more prominent.  When she fastened my wrists high between my
shoulder blades, I felt sort of wrapped up in the leather.
     I was led over to a different ring that had a tall, pylon sort of machine in the centre and
four long poles that formed spokes like helicopter blades coming out from the top.  Straps ending
in a short cross brace and snaps hung down from the ends of the poles.  Phyllis positioned me near
the end of one of the poles, snapped the hooks onto each side of my bit, adjusted the length of the
strap and stepped back.
     "In a moment, I'm going to turn the 'hot walker' on.  Start walking at the pace set by the
machine.  You will find that you have to keep you head up, your shoulders square and your pace
even.  Otherwise it will drag you and you won't be happy.  Also, the machine will occasionally
speed you into a gentle run.  I'll check you in a while, but it's hot out here in the sun and I'm
going for some nice iced tea in the shade.  Have fun."
     I looked at her in dismay as she activated a switch, I heard a motor rev up, the poles
started moving and I was pulled by the bit and my head harness, forcing me into a walk.  From the
distance I heard, "Keep you knees up."
     It was initially a little difficult for me to match my pace to the speed of the machine, partly
because the pull on my bit periodically forced me head back, but soon I was moving smoothly,
even when the pace changed.  But this was only when I concentrated on what I was doing.  The
second my attention lapsed, I was tugged and dragged back in line.  The periods of cantering
could not be anticipated in their timing or duration.  They seemed to be getting longer and soon
the sweat was running into my eyes and out of every pore in my body.  The thing between my
thighs seemed to be cutting a little and my shoulders were aching from the forced position.
     Then I began to tire and I found it increasingly more difficult to stay in rhythm.  I whinnied
a few times to see if I could get somebody's attention, and when I tried to look towards the barn,
I stumbled.  Boy, was that a mistake.  I was pulled forward and fell onto my knees and for a
moment was simply dragged by my head harness a short distance and then the machine
mysteriously stopped.
     I got to my feet, dirty, sweaty and trembling.  When the machine started again, apparently
by some built in mechanism or by someone using a remote control, I made sure I quickly got in
rhythm and pace, concentrating on what I was doing.   After a few minutes, I was put into a fast
canter that seemed to last for ever.  When it slowed to a walk and then stopped completely, I
didn't think I could take another step.
     Suddenly I was aware that Phyllis and Gert were approaching me.  I turned to them and
stamped my foot or hoof, and whinnied.
     Phyllis said, "Pat, for a first day pony girl you have done extremely well, We are proud of
you even though you acted a little clumsy at times.  Now Gert is going to walk you without your
bit, get you cooled down, wash you and give you a chance to relax.  This evening, if you are
good, Jack may try you on a sulky for a short time, but I am sure you are pretty tired."
     And that I was.  Gert put a lead on me and led me out on the lawn under some tall oak
trees where it was much cooler, and then over to a place near the barn where she could tie me,
hose me down thoroughly and then wipe me with a rough towel.  I was hoping she would take off
some of the harness but this was not to be.  As I was led into towards my stall from a different
entrance to the barn than we had used before, I saw in one of the stalls a pony boy!!  He
immediately snorted and kicked the side boards.
     "That's Roy, and he's a mean one," Gert said.  "If he get's the chance, he'll mount you in
a second.  That's one reason for that thing between your legs.  It makes penetration close to
impossible."  
     This reminded me that I was hurting a little down there.  So when we reached my stall, I
eagerly walked ahead of her and then raised one leg.
     "You want your band off?" she asked, and I shook my head.  "It's too tight?"  I nodded. 
"Okay, stand still and I'll loosen it a little."  When she did this, I rubbed my head against her
shoulder.  "You're welcome and I can see it was getting red down there.  Good pony."
     I felt foolish trying to communicate to her this was, but it worked.  She removed the bit
from my mouth and repositioned my wrists, attaching them to the sides of my belt which was
much more comfortable.  Gert then brought me some fresh water and some more of the special
fluid I had for lunch.
     Before she left, Gert said, "Pat, I like taking care of you and just wish our roles were
reversed.  Maybe some day.  Now, I'm off until tomorrow.  Hope you sleep well."  She kissed the
side of my face, patted my rump and left, latching the door securely.  A few minutes later I was
sound asleep.
     "Wake up, little filly," came a male voice and I fought to regain consciousness.  I looked
up to see Jack standing there with a different bridle.  "Get up.  It's time to see what you're made
of."
     He grabbed a strap running up the side of my head and more or less hauled me to my feet. 
Because of his roughness, I tried moving away from him but he yanked me back and said, "Stand
still, Pat, or I'll take a whip to you."  He removed my present bridle and replaced it with the new
one which was heavier, had blinders on each side and a bit that was larger in diameter with
extensions that went down about 2 inches on each side of my mouth.  The piece running across
my mouth seemed to be metal covered with rubber.  Attaching a lead rope to one side of the bit
he led me out of the barn to a place where I say a pony sulky.  I was backed between the two
poles or tongues that came out from the sulky and at that point were resting on the ground.
     My wrists were unhooked from my wide belt and allowed to dangle while the poles were
hooked where my wrists had been.  Then he unlocked each of my gauntlets, opened the flap and
unbuckled the little straps holding my thumb and fingers together.  Now he had me grasp the pole
on each side and locked them in that position using a different leather cuff.  Finally he attached
reins to the extensions on each side of my bit and tightened a head strap that ran down to the back
of the leather thing encompassing my upper torso.  This forced me head back still farther.
     "Now in a moment you will feel my weight as I mount the sulky.  Because of the way it is
balanced, the weight won't amount to much.  If I shake the reins, it will mean Giddyap and you
should start forward in a walk.  If I pull on both reins, slow down or stop depending on the pull. 
A pull on one side or the other obviously will make you turn, and repeated tugs mean back up. 
Remember what Phyllis taught you this afternoon about your knees and shoulders.  Okay?"
     I nodded as best I could and felt him get up onto the sulky seat.  He said, "Giddyap," and I
felt the reins shake my bit. I pushed forward with my hands but quickly realized I could exert
more thrust using my waist.  It was hard getting started but soon I was moving at a good walk,
remembering to lift my knees.  A 'good filly' comment from Jack pleased me.
     Soon he was having me turn, stop, backup, start, etc. without any voice commands and I
began to feel sure of myself.  But then I felt a little nip from a long whip which I had not seen, 
and
he urged me into a canter.  It wasn't long before I was panting and sweating again.  Trying to turn
my head to look back at him I stumbled and nearly fell which could have been disastrous because
of the momentum of the sulky.  He immediately pulled me to a stop, dismounted and came up in
front of me.
     Reaching up, he pinched both of my nipples hard and I reared back with a snort.  He
grabbed my nipples again and this time hung on while he said, "If you had dumped me with that
little maneuver back there, you would have spent the night tied with your head covered and
hitched to a post.  Now behave yourself.  And to help you concentrate, I going to close your
blinders.  Then you won't be able to see me or anything."  He folded the blinders over my eyes
and fastened them there.
     Then for the next hour or two he put me through my paces again and again, up and down
grades, around rings, through puddles, over rough and smooth ground and finally right into the
barn where he unfastened the sulky, took off the bridle and replaced it with a very simple halter
and no bit.  My gauntlets were again fastened shut and locked.  With a rope lead fastened to my
collar, he walked me until I had cooled off, rubbed me down a bit and took my to my stall.
     "Pat, you really did much better than I expected.  And you showed a lot of grit, natural
ability and grace.  Here's an apple, there is fresh water for you and I hope you sleep well. 
Tomorrow, Phyllis and Gert will use you as a work pony in the morning, and I'll race you in the
afternoon against one of our other fillies.  If you are real good and we think you deserve it, the
next day we will get you into a show harness and take some pictures."
     He left me wondering just how long this training was going to be.  I missed Don and really
wasn't enjoying my life as a pony girl very much.  Being exhausted, I fell to sleep very easily
despite being dirty and smelly.  Sometime during the night I was awakened by severe leg cramps
from all the unusual muscular exercise.  I struggled to my feet and with some stretching managed
to get the things under control, but it took a while and I ended up mad at the world.  So I kicked
the door to the stall a few times and went back to my bed in the hay.
     

                         CHAPTER THIRTEEN

     It was Gert who woke me up the next morning with breakfast if you could call it that. 
Then she watched me as I responded to one of nature's calls and did a good job of washing me
thoroughly afterwards.  The day passed rapidly.  In a slightly different harness, I spent the better
part of the morning pulling a small plough while first Phyllis and then Gert walked behind, shouting
encouragement accentuated by a few stings with a whip.  But by noon I was amazed to see that I
had ploughed furrows in a sizable vegetable garden.
     The afternoon was a little different for it was back to the sulky but with a very simple
harness and no collar.  Jack explained that I could forget about form.  Now I should concentrate
on speed.  He would control the pace, trying to judge my stamina and reserve.  The pony girl we
were racing was one of the best, so I should not be disappointed if I lost.  However how I did
could well determine my future.
     I doubted if this was indeed true but my competitive nature wasn't about to lie down. 
After two laps around a small race track, I was brought to a starting line together with a very
attractive, black pony girl driven by Phyllis.  I was given the favoured position on the inside of 
the
track and suddenly we were off and running.  Jack encouraged me to get into a comfortable
rhythm which I quickly did, and for a while I was clearly ahead of the other girl.  But slowly they
passed me.
     I would have sped up but Jack held me back with pressure on my bit but then encouraged
me to stay right behind the other sulky.  Then I heard him say in a soft voice, "Okay, Pat, when
you're your ready increase your speed gradually, keeping that nice rhythm, and then try to pass
them.  We have a half of a lap left to the finish line.
     My experience on the track team in college came back to me and I realized that staying
behind the other sulky had made them break the wind, giving me a slight breather.  Now I was
able to pull abreast the other girl and we both broke into a sprint.  But she was just too good.  I
finished about six feet behind her, panting and sweating but basically pleased as was Jack.
     "I'm very proud of you, Pat.  The pony girl you were racing has won many medals for us. 
With some good training, I think you would be almost as good."  It was Jack himself who walked
me to allow me to cool down gradually, washed me down a little and then dried me off.
     "Pat, you've earned yourself a reward.  You probably don't know that Don is planning to
come for you tomorrow.  We want to fix you up in the morning as a beautiful show pony for him,
but tonight you have the choice of spending it as you did last night, or we can take you out of
harness, give you some clothes and you can eat with us in the main house.  Don will never know
the difference."
     It was this last remark that decided my answer.  I shook my head and started towards my
stall where I could see Gert waiting.  Jack's parting words were, "Somehow I thought you would
see this through.  Have a good night."
     Gert was in real good spirits.  Apparently Phyllis had told her that if she lost a little
weight, she would be given a chance at becoming a pony girl without training charge, providing
she worked part time in her present role.  Although it was hard for me to understand her
enthusiasm, I realized that this was something she really wanted.
     Gert put a simple halter on me and removed the leather "jacket" I was wearing as well as
the band from between my legs.  She then washed and oiled me thoroughly before getting my
usual gunky but good mash, the Gatorade and an apple.  Finally she brushed my short hair
observing that it wasn't going to look like the usual hair of a show pony, shook out my blankets,
put it some fresh hay and locked me in for the night.
     That night I slept very well with no cramps and was standing there waiting when Gert
arrived the next morning.  It was again embarrassing, but I managed to squat, piss and relieve my
self, but at least it didn't have to through the chastity band.  After cleaning me up, she led me
down to the main tackle room where Phyllis was waiting with a pile of shiny black leather gear.
     First, I was stripped completely including boots and gauntlets.  Simple rope nooses were
placed around my wrists and the ropes were then tied out to nearby stanchions.  Gert applied a
coating of some type of grease or ointment to my entire body until I sort of shone.  Then came all
the leather.  In many ways the articles were similar to those I had been wearing except that the
leather was new and jet black with numerous silver ornaments and little bells.  Also, instead of the
head bridle, Phyllis picked up a black leather helmet and showed it to me.  It had a large opening
for the face with rinds for attaching the bit and reins, but the most striking feature was a plume 
of
long black hair that came out of the crown.  In effect, she was making up for the shortness of my
own hair.
     When Phyllis pulled it over my head, I found that it really was comfortable and even the
bit seemed to fit me, although the collar that followed seemed wider than before, My stamping the
ground was met with a smile and Phyllis said, "Oh, Pat, stand still.  I want your head up high.
You've won that honour.  Now, you probably won't like your gloved wrists where I am going to
put them, but the position is standard."
     I felt them hauled up, crossed behind my shoulder blades and held there with straps. 
Indeed it was uncomfortable.
     I still didn't have anything below my wide, tight belt and wondered whether I was going to
be given a band with a long tail like I had seen the first day.  I soon found out the answer was yes
but the tail came in a form I didn't like at all.  It consisted of a bundle of long black hairs 
arising
from a butt plug which Phyllis lubricated and not too gently eased into my anal canal until my
sphincter closed around the neck of the plug.  A contoured, broad leather strap running from front
to back was used to secure the thing in place and hold the tail in a graceful plume behind me.
     I had never enjoyed rectal examinations, tubes, enemas, etc. and twisted my rump around
to let them know I didn't like it.  This earned me several swats with a crop. So I quickly resolved
to take whatever they did to me.  This resolve almost disappeared when Gert hung little bells from
my nipples, licking them first to make them rise up and then applying little clamps that she
screwed down.
     "Pat, they're so pretty, and just listen to them when you jump around like that," Gert said.
     Reins were attached through the helmet rings to my bit and I was 'driven' out of the barn. 
They were taking pictures of me when Don arrived by car.  I started towards him but was quickly
halted by a strong tug on the reins.  So he came to me with a big smile on his face, reached out to
put a hand on each side of my face and bring his lips down to mine.  Somehow it made everything
all right and I even forgot about the huge thing in my rectum.
     Jack came out to join us and welcomed Don.  "She's been an excellent trainee, one of our
best, and we'll be happy to take her on for complete training."
     Because Gert was still pulling on my reins, I couldn't shake my head, but happily Don
said, "No, I have other plans for her, but thanks for the offer.  Maybe someday, she will want to
come back.  Did she give you any trouble?"
     It was Phyllis who answered.  "Not really.  She basically did very well, although I sensed a
little lack of long term motivation.  Wouldn't you like to see her in motion?"
     Don said that would be interesting and a few minutes later I was hooked up to a sulky,
walking with high knees and square shoulders, my numerous bells tingling away.  It was Phyllis
who was doing the driving but she then stopped, gave a few instructions to Don, helped him onto
the seat and started me in motion holding the side of my bit at first.
     When we were a little distance from the others, Don said, "Pat, I love your bare ass and
the way you swing your tail.  Wish I could see your breasts bounce from where I'm sitting but
they are taking pictures with a camcorder so we'll have a nice record of this memorable moment."
     For a brief second I thought I might enjoy trying to dump him, but then I found myself
getting very, sexually aroused by his comments as well as the pinching of my nipples and the
pressure of the belt between my legs.
     And this arousal seemed to persist as Gert took me to the barn, relieved me of all the
things I was wearing, and showed me where there was a wonderful shower.  When I stepped ut
she was holding a warm, large towel and I saw that Don had brought some jeans and a soft,
sleeveless shirt to wear.  After watching me get dressed, Gert threw her arms around me and
hugged me with tears in her eyes.  And I found myself hugging her right back.  Even though my
stay had been short, we had grown close.
     Phyllis and Jack saw us to Don's car, gave me a 'diploma' and said they would send the
pictures.  A moment later we were on our way with me sitting as close to him as I could get,
enjoying his hand moving between my thighs.
     "Where to?" I asked.
     "How about Europe, India and Japan?  But first, I'm taking you home," was his reply.

          To be continued in Part Three