Brenda's Next Assignment

The driver returned to his quarters and Raven's owner returned to the interior of his mansion, through the back door as he always did after a session with one of his ponygirls. His three goons followed one of them leading Raven by her leash, while she stumbled along behind them, managing to avoid falling down. When they reached the training room again, they unhooked her wrists from the belt and manacled her to the chain hanging from the ceiling again. After removing her tack, except for what she wore on her hands and feet and around her neck, they left her on her mattress.

Brenda lay down, but could not get comfortable. No matter how she lay, the contact between the bare mattress and any of the multitude of welts covering her arms and legs and ass sent pain throbbing through her body. She finally managed to lie supine, with her knees bent so her weight was supported on the soles of her feet and her shoulders, which had been covered by her harness and had escaped the lash of the sadistic driver.

She lay like that until it was time for her daily enema and washing, followed by eating more of her bland fodder. With her stomach full and her bit in place again, Raven watched while her owner approached and set down the small bag that she knew held the ointment that would be applied to the stripes that had been raised by the whip that day. She expected some relief from the burning pain that was throbbing through her body.

"Well, my dear," the wizened man said, while stroking his chattel's mane. We had an excellent day today. We'll continue with your training tomorrow and, by the time we're through, you'll be the best ponygirl in my stable, maybe the best anywhere. Isn't that exciting?"

Raven bobbed her head and whinnied her agreement. She could certainly think of better careers than being a beast of burden for the amusement of the old man and his cronies, but she thought it best to agree. She was still in agony from being whipped, and she knew there was ointment in the bag that would alleviate the pain somewhat. She watched as her owner pulled the zipper open and took out the jar.

Brenda was disappointed. The old man removed the covering from where her brand was healing and inspected the scab to assure himself no damage had been done from being struck with the whip. After satisfying himself it was healing peoperly, he treated the injury in the usual way, including covering it with a protective pad, closed the jar and replaced it in his bag. Nothing was done about the whip marks from that day, nor was any explanation offered for the omission.

That was when Brenda realized that, although he seemed at times to have some compassion, her owner cared nothing for her, except as a valuable chattel. To him, she was no more than livestock. He had watched her being practically raped by his employees and by one of his associates and had never chided any of them. Nothing was said to the jealous wife of that associate for the severe whipping she administered, although he had used the ointment to treat the painful welts that resulted. Because he wanted her brand to quickly heal to a perfectly formed scar, he treated her there, but he would do nothing about the pain from a whipping he had administered or that had been at his command. Apparently, McGillicuddy wanted the agony from her punishments to be left unabated as a reminder to her to be more obedient.

Until then, Brenda had tried to be a good ponygirl, and she would have to keep doing so, if she wanted to minimize the abuse she would be receiving in the foreseeable future. However, from that time forward, she would be on the alert for a chance to escape the hellhole where she was being held a prisoner for the perverted amusement of an evil old man and others like him. She didn't know if the opportunity would ever arise, but she would be constantly alert, and take it if and when it did.

Thank you for reading this story. I hope you enjoyed it a lot more than Brenda is enjoying her predicament. I like writing stories on Literotica, but I like it a lot more when I know that people are reading and enjoying them, and I appreciate it when readers take the time to express their opinions by voting. Like most authors on Literotica, I practically live for feedback from readers, either public comments or email to me. Such feedback, whether praise or criticism, helps me to write more and better stories, and I respond to it whenever I can.