Atonement Session Ch. 01

The blonde groom quickly dropped to her knees, and withdrew four leather spanking paddles from a canvas bag, handing them to her Mistress.

Kylie was perplexed, "Mistress, those are 'torture devices'? They look like table tennis paddles."

Mistress Harriette bent down and kissed a pony on the forehead while bouncing one of her perky breasts with her hand. The belled nipple chimed merrily. The girl smiled sweetly up at her with both hands upraised to receive the paddle. Mistress Harriette was the all-powerful being at the center of her pony life. And now, now She was delegating Her Authority to this unworthy pony slave. The slave girl beamed with pride as the Mistress placed the paddle into her cupped hands.

"Honey, these are pleasure ponies, their purpose in life is to be cute and sweet and carefree. It would be wrong to force them to actually harm someone. But they wanted to do their duty, so I will allow it."

"It just seemed a bit weak and ineffective to..." Kylie began, then stopped. She had just questioned the judgement of a Slave-Mistress, in public, on television. Mistress Harriette stiffened, rose to her full height, and the slave girl realized that she had overstepped.

"Silence!" Harriette commanded. "Smith, this slave is questioning my judgment! Do we need to demonstrate to her the effectiveness of my spanking paddles?"

Smith got a delighted grin on his face. Suddenly he wasn't faking a smile for the cameras, he was actually enjoying this turn of events.

"Why yes, Mistress Harriette," he exclaimed, emphasizing the title "Mistress".

"I think we should definitely demonstrate the effectiveness of a spanking paddle on an impertinent slave. Hmm... I know! Slut! Bend over that chair and grab the handles!"

As the slave Kylie bent over the chair and grabbed the arm rests, Smith spoke to Harriette (and the cameras) in a conversational tone, "You know, normally slaves are not permitted to use furniture, but I think that everyone can agree that this is one of the exceptions to the rule."

Harriette nodded, contemplating the upturned red satin covered ass of the nervous slave girl. Two of the cameramen with shoulder-mounted cameras quickly positioned themselves to zoom in on the girl's fearful face and shapely bottom. Kylie was glad that at least the Mistress was going to spank her with her dress on and that her long hair would hide her face from the cameras in this position.

Her confidence was mistaken. "Sandy!" the Mistress standing over her commanded.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Put a pony-comb on her so her fans can see her face. She's about to get a spanking for insulting me and I want them to see it."

"Yes, Mistress, right way!" The blonde pony groom quickly brushed Carlie's hair up into a mane and affixed it with a comb.

"There we go, sweetie, don't we want the home audience to see how 'weak and ineffective' leather paddles are? After all, they look like tennis table paddles. Surely they can't hurt, can they?" Harriette gazed down at the eminently-spankable ass in front of her. She so enjoyed a good spanking, especially a taut and firm teenager's ass like this one.

Her bedslave Sandy's ass was also eminently spankable. Harriette enjoyed spanking her very much, even though she pretended not to. Harriette always went with the "I really don't want to do this, but you need to learn discipline" speech, but it was entirely untrue and Sandy knew it.

On the other hand, Sandy actually liked it when her Mistress spanked her, although she also pretended not to. It was one of those games that dominant and submissive lovers play. They had played this game before Sandy had been enslaved and they still played it in the privacy of Mistress's chambers.

But now, people were looking. Sandy pretended to be frightened of the intimidating Slave-Mistress and asked in a fake-frightened voice, "Are you going to spank her now?" She was a terrible actress and it showed. But somehow it made the interaction more effective, not less.

"I am, raise her skirt for me," Harriette responded, wedging her hip up against the slave announcer's silky-smooth and oh-so-firm hip.

Sandy quickly complied and Kylie's last bastion of false modesty was eliminated. Her naked face and bare bottom were now exposed to millions of online viewers. The cameraman behind her zoomed in on her smooth and juicy vagina and the image appeared on the big viewing screens on the walls of the studio. A small silver disk bearing the logo of the Slavery Channel dangled from her clitoral-hood piercing and reflected the bright studio lights nicely, winking at the audience as it spun back and forth in her thigh gap. Kylie was sure that many of the online audience members were probably friends and family that she had known back in Cornhenge, Iowa before she had - filled with dreams of Hollywood stardom - enslaved herself to a "reputable" acting agency. Acting agency reputations in Hollywood were like a slave's modesty, entirely false fronts, quickly discarded. She had been evaluated and immediately re-sold to the Slave Channel.

Kylie's first acting assignment was a commercial for Purina Slave Chow and it had featured Kylie naked on her hands and knees eating out of a bowl on the floor next to the family dog. It wasn't a great start on her rise to fame and fortune, but it could easily have been worse. This moment felt worse than that because she had managed to work her way up through the system of exploitation to the point where she normally wore costumes when on camera. Now she was about to be paddled bare-bottomed on live television. She hadn't even been spanked yet, and tears already started to form in the corners of her eyes.

Harriette looked down at the slave girl's fully-exposed bottom and a tiny smile quirked the right corner of her mouth. She so loved the look of a naked girl's ass in her lap. Who doesn't? Kylie's bare bottom had perfectly-smooth unblemished skin, without the markings that free girls sometimes developed from their (unfortunate and unnecessary) freedom to sit on furniture. Each globe of her ass was nicely-formed and, displayed in this position, practically demanded to be spanked. Harriette really wanted to spank the lovely girl with her bare hand. It was so much more intimate that way. But she was on national television and she had been challenged on the effectiveness of her spanking paddles, so that's what it would have to be. She glanced up at the Slavery Channel President and saw him nodding approval at this turn of events. Maybe he would let Harriette borrow the girl for the night. It had possibilities.

Just when Kylie thought the embarrassment couldn't get any worse, it did. "Sandy, honey, remove her plug and clean it, we'll put it back in later." Kylie had forgotten that she was wearing a shining butt-jewel in her rectum. Gentle hands pried it out of her bottom and the home audience was treated to, in addition to their view of her bare and weeping pussy, a view into her gaping sphincter before it flexed closed. Mistress Harriette helpfully held the embarrassed slave girl's cheeks apart so the camera could get a clear shot. Kylie had been in Hollywood almost two years now, and although she had appeared mostly or partly-nude many times, this was the first time she had been exposed in such an utterly dominated and sexualized position. Her initial two-year indenture was up in a few weeks, maybe she could go back to Cornhenge, Iowa and pick up the remaining pieces of...

"Smack!" the leather spanking paddle hit her exposed right cheek and... "Smack!" she was hit on the left. The cameraman in front of her made a tight, professional smile as he captured the perfect shocked and open-mouthed expression on Kylie's face as the paddle stuck her sensitive bottom. A still-shot of her painted lips making a perfect "O" went up on the wall-screens. The cameraman behind her captured the rippling of her cheeks as they absorbed the impact of the "weak and ineffective" paddle. A slow motion shot of the rippling cheeks was quickly placed alongside her O-face on the walls. Apparently, the paddles were neither weak NOR ineffective in the hands of a skilled wielder. Mistress Harriette had spanked a lot of slave girls over the years and she was VERY skilled.

"What do you think, Mr. Smith?" Harriette asked, "Do you think these paddles are weak and ineffective?"

She began soothing the recently-smacked flesh by caressing them with the smooth leather paddle. It made future spanks more effective. And it was fun.

"Hmm," he replied thoughtfully, "perhaps we need another six spanks to be sure?" Although Mr. Smith was enjoying the spanking quite a bit, he wanted to keep the show moving.

Mistress Harriette nodded and began swatting the girl more efficiently. Sometimes she would spank the left cheek first, sometimes the right. Other times she would tense like she was bringing down another strike and then... not do it. The cameramen captured it all from close up.

Finished paddling, Harriette placed one manicured finger on the girl's pierced clit. She rubbed it a bit as though checking for firmness. It was VERY firm. Someone was enjoying her spanking a little too much. Kylie shuddered a bit and wiggled in her grasp. Then the Mistress slid her finger along the girl's open pink slit, eliciting yet another shudder of pleasure. After gathering the moisture she found there, Harriette swirled it around the exterior of the slave girl's exposed pink sphincter, which was still partly open due the fact that Kylie had been plugged every day for the past two years.

She then released the girl and told her to stand up. Kylie immediately began pulling her skirt down.

"Stop!"

Kylie froze in surprise, staring at Mistress Harriette. She realized that she had made yet another mistake. Mistress Harriette had pulled her skirt up. The Mistress had NOT pulled it back down and she had NOT ordered the slave girl to do so. This was getting worse and worse!

Mr. Smith stepped in and rescued her. He needed to keep the show moving. This stupid slut was becoming a liability.

"I've got this," he said. He plucked the disinfected butt jewel from Sandy's hand and ordered Kylie to open her mouth. He stuck the plug in the girl's mouth and ordered her to use her tongue on it. Because Sandy's cleaning and disinfecting of the plug had taken place off-camera, it appeared to the audience that the butt plug had just been removed from her rectum and the girl was now being forced to clean it with her tongue. Kylie had held it together during the brief spanking episode, but this humiliation was too much. Her eyes began to well up with tears of shame and, as Mr. Smith bent her over to re-plug her butt, they began to fall, streaking her makeup.

Smith sighed, the slave announcer really WAS becoming a liability now. He smacked her exposed pink bottom and sent her into the back to freshen up.

While he was doing this, Harriette finished distributing the "torture devices" and the row of ponies was now kneeling at her feet holding them in their hands. The grooms were kneeling behind them. "Time to get this show moving," Smith thought.

He approached the Slave-Mistress and asked, "Now what?"

Harriette looked up and gave him a sinister smile, then chuckled merrily.

"Well," she drawled, "there's a lo-ong and co-omplicated pro-ocess where we give instructions, assign targets, discuss technique and implementation..."

Smith stared at her in horror. How long was this going to take?

"Evil Pony Minions, ATTACK!" Harriette suddenly commanded.

She smirked and turned back to Smith as her minions charged into battle, "Or-r... we can just send them off. Which do you prefer?"

Giggling gleefully, the minions leaped up and raced over to the condemned men with their topknots and perky round pony-tailed bottoms bouncing. The four ponies positioned themselves with one on either side of the criminals and began paddling madly. They were terrible at it. There was no structure, no rhythm, they were just whaling away. It was extremely cute.

"Sandy! Thanh! Get them under control! Two-by-two, just like we practiced!" Harriette ordered.

The two grooms quickly got the rampaging minions under control and positioned them in pairs three steps behind the two men. Each pair of ponies held their assigned torture device in their inside hands. Thanh took charge, "Poppi, Oksana, you're up first!" she shouted. "Wind UP..." they began wind-milling their paddles like softball pitchers getting ready to throw an underhand fastball, "... and SPANK!"

On command, the two ponies took three long strides forward clop-clop-clop-SMACK! For added visual appeal, they smiled brightly at the criminal's personal camera of shame, which had been positioned to capture every moment of his degradation. They also held up their outer arms in a "V-for-victory" salute. Knowing exactly what was coming, the cameraman in front of each criminal set his lenses and filters just perfectly. The still photographs of that moment would become popular downloads on the Slavery Channel's website. On either side of the condemned man... pony girls in motion, manes swirling, eyes open and eager, belled breasts bouncing, naked and clean-shaven genitals exposed to the world. In between the two cheerful flying ponies, the condemned criminal, mouth open in shock and pain and... something else.

It was too much. The penisillin had did its job. The vibrations from the spanking earlier set a fire in his groin as they were transmitted through his body into his genitals... he erupted and the unforgiving camera's eye caught the first massive spurt of semen as it began to arc away from his body. Spotting the eruption, Poppi stopped and gently began stroking the criminal's penis, launching spurt after agonizing spurt of semen out of the man's body. Poppi was an expert at handling men's penises, as he had been a pony girl for two years now and had a lot of experience with it. He also knew that this was a medically-necessary procedure. If the penisillin patient didn't get it all out in one go, then bad things could happen, possibly including ruptured arteries, which could be fatal. Oksana assisted the milking process by giving the criminal rapid taps with her paddle on his reddening ass, sending stimulating vibrations through his body.

The condemned man didn't know any of this. All he knew was that he was being stroked and milked on national television by the creepy and disgusting tranny-futa-slave-pony-thing. This shameful knowledge didn't stop his orgasm, though. Maybe he had found his true calling.

After rushing up to discover what was occupying her evil minions, Thanh saw what they were doing and she approved. She looked around the hanging prisoner's body to see what her Mistress thought of it. She saw that the Mistress was approaching rapidly and Thanh's eyes widened in alarm.

"Excellent work, Thanh, keep that up!" Mistress Harriette exclaimed, "Sandy! Do you see what she's doing there? Do the same with your prisoner!"

Harriette had seen the effects of a penisillin treatment gone wrong at least once before and didn't want it documented on live television. Penises spurting semen were fine, but penises spurting blood were an entirely different matter. This was a PG-13-rated show, after all.

Sandy sprang into action. "Daybreak, you're on spanking duty, give him tappity-taps, get those vibrations going! Meadow, you're on stroking duty, stroke him to orgasm gently, Mistress commands it!"

The two ponies moved to comply and soon the second prisoner was experiencing his own agonizing penicillin-enhanced orgasm. Meadow tried to point her assigned penis at the proper angle in order to match the distance of the other criminal's spurts, but she was defeated by the excessive upward-curvature of the man's cock. Instead, the semen arced too high and didn't match the distance achieved by the first prisoner. In the VIP seats and online, bets were settled and money changed hands. On the Slavery Channel, everything can be monetized, even the distance of a slave's ejaculation.

Once she was satisfied that there would be no penisillin-related medical emergency, Mistress Harriette gave new orders, "Back in positions everyone! Daybreak and Meadow, victory salute spank now!" They proceeded to perform the same victory salute spanking that Poppi and Oksana had done.

"Interns!" Harriette shouted. Two excited teenage girls wearing clothing ran out from behind the curtain carrying buckets. They were local college freshmen that Harriette selected to perform this role. She had attempted to recruit both of them as dressage ponies, but their parents vetoed the idea, and they went to college instead. It was a clear waste of talent, although Harriette was willing to accept it... for now.

But Harriette Valdez doesn't forget a pretty face. When she needed a couple of photogenic young girls for this broadcast, she immediately thought of Susan and Sharon. They were fraternal twins with red-orange hair who looked very much alike. Those attributes were big selling points in the pony business and Harriette still hoped to add them to her herd.

Both interns were wearing figure-hugging emerald minidresses, just like real Hollywood starlets! But unlike real starlets, the pale skin of their slender throats was unoccupied by anything that might be construed as a collar. Several calculating minds in the studio audience began plotting to change that. Their hair and makeup had been done by the Slavery Channel professionals. When they arrived at the studio with their parents, they were separated from them and ushered backstage. The parents were guided to the VIP bleachers and given complimentary drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

Back stage, the girls' appearance had been evaluated and deemed acceptable - for a high school prom. But not for a nation-wide broadcast. The Slave Channel's expert staff sprang into action. The girls were stripped and placed in chairs. Their hair and makeup was completely redone. New dresses were selected for them. Their expensive calf-length Costco-brand cocktail dresses were now hanging on a rack in the wardrobe department awaiting their return. So was their underwear. It is possible that they may never wear underwear again. Or dresses. Time will tell.

Susan and Sharon waved to their parents in the bleachers as they ran past. Running in high heels and skin-tight dresses had a fascinating effect on their shapely bottoms and steely-eyed professional cameramen made sure to zoom in on the captivating sight. Purely because it was good cinema, of course. Not because they were nursing hard-ons or anything. They were professionals.

Each girl held a bucket of props. The duo ran up to Mistress Harriette. They were both so excited to appear on national television! And wearing such scandalous dresses! They knew that all of their friends would be watching them as they appeared in such a glamorous venue, wearing sexy makeup, with their hair professionally done by Hollywood glamour artists. They had spent hours with their mom preparing for this event, but none of that had mattered. The Hollywood professionals had quickly stripped them of their clothing, put them in chairs, covered them in entirely see-through plastic capes and set to work immediately. It had been terrifying and embarrassing for both of them, but no one had paid their visibly-displayed charms any mind as they set to work. The sight of naked starlets meant nothing to them, they were pros, and lewdly-exposed girls were normal for them, they had jobs to do.

Susan was quite certain that her makeup artist was a homosexual, so nudity and immorality were probably part of his nature anyway. He seemed really sweet though, so it made her sad that his soul was destined for Hell. Maybe Daddy could help? He had a really successful anti-gay counseling program.