The Leprechaun's Ponygirl
(F/M, nonconsensual, pony, maledom, bondage, S&M)
Copyright©2000 by S.Mariesu. All rights reserved.
The last three parts posted here with permission from S. Mariesu and Freeberry.com.

Part Four: Other Adornments

Vanessa cursed her helplessness as her sharp mind examined, then rejected, several methods of escape. Some day, she vowed, she would have her revenge. The Leprechaun stopped his motions and looked at her with curiosity. "Planning your escape, eh?" he observed. "Someday, perhaps. No doubt you'll be a fine runner by the time I'm through with you." He laughed at his own joke and asked with mock politeness, "Are you ready for your tail, my pretty ponygirl?"

Her face grew hot, and she shook her head violently from side to side. "No?" he observed. "Would you prefer another adornment?" She paused, uncertain. He set the horsetail, along with the dreadful phallus, on a side shelf and reached into the wooden box, closing his large fist around something small contained within. He pulled his hand out, positioned his hidden treasure in front of her face. "Would my pretty pony prefer these?" he asked as he opened his fist. She saw, resting in his open palm, a pair of jaunty gold sleigh bells attached to firm little clamps.

She remained absolutely still, gazing at the strange objects in his hand. "Do you know what these are?" he asked softly. "They're adornments for your nipples. I've always loved the sound of sleigh bells jingling as I ride through the country." He paused. "But perhaps you don't. So I must ask, would you prefer the sleigh bells over the horsetail?"

Her mind reeled. The thought of having her nipples adorned with sleigh bells made her want to scream, but if wearing the hated bells would spare her the tail, she would do anything. She nodded slowly.

"You like them, then?" he asked, holding them closer. She shook her head no. He pulled his hand away. "Oh, you prefer the horsetail?" he observed as he prepared to return the sleigh bells to his wooden box.

Again, she shook her head no, this time more violently. "I'm confused," he said. "Do you, or do you not, want your nipples adorned with the sleigh bells?" She bobbed her head up and down, craving the bells with desperation. Anything, she thought. Anything but the tail.

"Very well," he said and brought one of the bells up to her nipple. He gathered the firm knob in his hand and kneaded it between his fingers. "You'll be sure to jingle them for me?" he questioned. She nodded slowly, and he clamped the bell onto her nipple. The cool metal bit into her flesh, sending a flood of sensations to her nipple and other, lower, regions.

"Now," he said. "Jingle it for me."

Desperate to please lest he reject the bells for something more dreadful, she shimmied her shoulders from side. The lone bell gave a little jingle, and he laughed merrily.

"You'll make a fine pony yet," he observed as he reached for her other breast. He imprisoned the second nipple between his strong fingers and kneaded the flesh again, this time for longer, savoring her dread of the second adornment. Finally, he clamped the bell firmly in place. Vanessa struggled to control herself as he ordered, "Again." She shimmied her shoulders once more, and the merry bells jingled times two.

"How very jolly," he observed. "Of course, we'll hardly hear them over the sound of your hooves on the country road. We'll have to add something else." He reached into the box and pulled out two thick wrist-cuffs, also adorned with sturdy metal rings and bells on either side. He stepped up onto one of the wooden blocks and fastened the first cuff around her wrist, and then the other. She was feeling more helpless by the minute.

By now, every venture into the box filled her with dread. Each time, it seemed, he pulled out some new torture that hadn't occurred to her. This time it was a fine thick collar. He held it up for her inspection, and she noticed that it, too, was adorned with sleigh bells. He shook it happily in front of her, and a merry sound filled the stable.

"This is your training collar," he explained. "Once again, I must explain that your real one will be prettier, but you must earn it." He reached his arms around her, lifted her hair out of the way, and fastened the high collar around her neck. He locked it with a snap, and her head was instantly forced up high. "Such a spirited pony," he observed.

He took two steps back and eyed her with pleasure. Her full breasts were forced up nice and high, the jaunty sleigh bells a fine adornment to the imprisoned mounds. The thick collar around her neck gave a proud, spirited appearance that would make any master proud. He could hardly wait to take her for a run. But first things first.

He smiled brightly and said, "We're almost done." From the wooden box, he pulled out a pair of strange-looking shoes made from thick, hard brown leather and adorned with iron horseshoes on the bottom. She looked at them with horror as he approached.

When he reached her side, he kicked one of the wooden blocks to the spot directly in front of her. "Lift your pretty foot, the left one," he ordered. She considered refusing, but thought better of it. Slowly, as to keep her balance, she lifted her foot until it rested on the block. He gripped her foot and placed it firmly into the shoe. She was surprised to discover her foot didn't lay flat. Rather, it conformed to her lifted toes like a strange breed of high heels. "Cocktail party shoes on the inside, horse-shoes on the outside," she thought wryly as he buckled the shoe on tight and locked it with a snap.

"Now the other foot," he ordered. She returned the shoed foot to the ground and struggled to regain her balance. She stood taller due to its strange construction, but had less of a foundation for balance. Controlling every muscle in her body, she kept herself from tottering over as she placed her right foot onto the wooden block. Soon, this foot was imprisoned in the strange device, and he motioned her down.

He smiled secretly to himself, knowing what a fine clip-clopping sound the shoes would make on the cobblestone streets of the village. Vanessa paused, awaiting instructions. Although her sore shoulders were offered some relief from the two precious inches added to her height, she was filled with concern. He had mentioned a ride into the village, and she knew she wouldn't be a passenger.

"How are you doing my pretty ponygirl?" he asked. "Are you ready for a ride?" She shook her head slowly, her eyes filled with dread.

"No?" he asked, as if confused. "Well I am. But first, your tail." He reached to the shelf holding the phallus and picked it up again. She sputtered against the bit, mouthing her protest as best she could. "You promised!" she wanted to shriek, but the only sounds she made were a strange muffled groan of protest.

He art thief laughed at her confusion. "You must learn," he said, "that you're my property, and if it pleases me to adorn your backside, I shall do just that. A pony without a tail! Really! What would the neighbors say?" he asked with mock concern as he kicked one of the wooden blocks to the spot behind her and disappeared from her view.