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 Six: All Harnessed Up

Once again, Vanessa cursed her foolishness. Just yesterday, she realized, all she cared about was the two million dollars she would get for the stolen painting. Today, she was naked, adorned with sleigh bells, and stuffed to the breaking point with an impossibly huge phallus. She wanted to wail in frustration, but the bit filling her mouth robbed her of the opportunity.

If only she had listened, she realized, she would have known the mysterious art thief was called "The Leprechaun" for a reason. In his strange, twisted fashion, he had made his own luck. As she lay stretched and bound, her mind wandered to all the others who had gone in search of him. None had been found. No doubt, they had met with the same fate.

Her musings were interrupted by the lifting of her newly brushed tail. "When you earn your real harness, we can add some ribbons and perhaps a few more bells," he told her. "Now, I'm going to secure your arms behind your back and get you all harnessed up. I'm anxious to see if you're as spirited as I'd hoped."

She heard his footsteps in the straw as he made his way to the dreaded wooden box. Shortly, he returned with a new pair of leather cuffs. She felt them encircle her arms just above her elbows. Once the new restraints were buckled nice and tight, he released her wrists from the chains. But her freedom was short-lived. In an instant, he had hooked each wrist cuff to the opposite elbow cuff, crossing her arms helplessly behind her.

As she lay sprawled across the table, he knelt down in the straw and unfastened the restraints binding her legs to the table. Although her legs were free at last, moving them was the last thing on Vanessa's mind. With her arms bound so strictly behind her back and the huge phallus in her ass, every movement was an agony. She felt her anus muscles contract around the mammoth invader and realized she would be unable to move even if given the opportunity. All she could do was lay there and await his next torment.

But there was no rest for her. Grabbing the back of her shoulder harness, he lifted her torso from the table, forcing her to an unsteady standing position. The bells on her nipples jingled faintly and then finally settled back against her breasts. She groaned against the bit as the phallus shifted in her buttocks and seemed to penetrate her anew.

She stood, unsteady, her body adjusting to her new attire - the horse shoes threatening to topple her balance, the firm harness pushing her breasts too high, the dreadful bells dangling from her nipples, and the huge object imbedded in her ass. Her mind reeled at the indignity, and for the first time in her adult life, she felt a hopeless lack of control.

Her tongue worked hopelessly against the bit in her mouth. If only she could talk to him, she thought, she was sure she could bring him to his senses. But all she could do was stand helplessly as the art thief adjusted her bells and harnesses.

Almost as an afterthought, he suddenly pulled his hand back and gave a hard slap to the underside of her right breast. It bounced up and down from the impact, and she was mortified to hear the little bell imprisoning her nipple jingle gaily. This seemed to be the reaction he was hoping for, because he gave a slow, satisfied nod and smile. She tensed, awaiting the slap to the other breast, but it never came.

Instead, he attached a set of reins to the bit in her mouth. Holding the straps in his expert hands, he disappeared behind her. Soon, she felt a sudden tug at the reins. Her head snapped back, and she wailed in defiance against the bit. He chuckled with delight and patted her rump.

"Now, trot outside, my pretty pony," he ordered, giving her backside a hard slap with his strong hand. She jumped at the sudden noise, but stood her ground, unsure where he wanted her to go. Suddenly, she felt a hard yank on just one of the reins attached to the bit in her mouth. Her head snapped back to one side, causing her to face the open door.

She felt another hard slap to her rump, and realized she should follow the direction her head was pointing. With slow, unsteady movements, she started to totter towards the door. The phallus shifted in rhythm with her slow steady steps, its horsetail tickling the backs of her thighs, and she gave a muffled wail of misery.

"Lift those legs up!" her captor suddenly ordered. "You look like you're headed for the glue factory. I like my ponies to show some spirit!" Suddenly, she felt the snap of something hard on her ass. It wasn't a hand, she realized, but something different, thinner, harder. "Snap!" There it was again. Frantically, she lifted her legs higher and began trotting outside.

A riding crop!, she realized, as she struggled to lift her legs higher still. She wasn't sure what was worse, the degrading snap of the crop, or the shifting of the huge phallus in her backside as she struggled to comply with his unreasonable demands.

The bells on her harnesses and nipples jingled gaily as she made her miserable way out the door. She saw in the open pasture a small open carriage, just big enough for one passenger. Her eyes grew wide with horror, as she realized he did, in fact, intend to drive her into town.

Continued