Daphne's Downfall Ch. 02

"Now that was a slavegasm! That slut was grinding herself off on the table as you tapped her tail and mauled her titties. And she still blew a gasket, what a slut. Look at the nasty wet spot on the table. I love my job," chortled Fred.

"It only took us eleven minutes to fill this slut's Texas chili bowl full of splooge," laughed George, while slapping her ass hard.

"Let's get her over to the smithy for her badging. We can watch Merle pull her cheeks apart for her branding. As soon as she feels the heat of the badging iron her puckered wagon wheel will start winking and all that splooge will flow out," chuckled Fred, while the dynamic duo high fived each other.

"I love it when he freaks out when that happens," hooted George. They sounded almost giddy with excitement at their pending practical joke. I couldn't believe grown men could act so juvenile. Laughing, Jeb pulled me to my feet and led me to my next destination.

We arrived in the shipping bay, which was bustling with activity, full of cages stacked on top of each other occupied by handcuffed and gagged women. What happens when you are gagged with a mouthful of cum and are not permitted to swallow is that you drool. And it gets all over you. By the time we arrived at the shipping bay I had drooled a mixture of saliva and cum all down my chin and neck onto my chest which now glistened with the disgusting mixture. The slave handlers all laughed at me when we arrived. One guy even high-fived Jed, much to my chagrin. Jed had me kneel in front of a cage designed for a medium sized dog and ordered me to crawl backwards into it and locked me inside. Then he wheeled me over to an area labeled "Pony Express Transport".

Before leaving Jed squatted down in front of me grinning, "You can swallow now."

I just glared back at him, not able to reply with a gag in my mouth. It is impossible to swallow everything I learned the hard way as my drooling continued.

"I love my job, getting to fuck with stuck up bitches like you that didn't give me the time of day when they were free."

I tried to give him the "I know the best you can do is jack off in your parent's home hoping your mommy doesn't interrupt you while dreaming about me" look but gagged and soaked in the saliva and splooge mixture it only made me look more pathetic. I blushed in frustration feeling humiliated all over again. The little asshole knew he had won this encounter as he stood up, grinning like he owned the world and walked away whistling to himself.

This time when I was backed into the cage there were no tears, no wallowing in self-pity. There was however plenty of time to think about Claire and that kiss. I hadn't kissed her back. I wasn't a lesbian! Oh God, why hadn't I kissed her back? The deepest part of me didn't like the simple explanation, and it wanted to know. Why had my heart raced when she kissed me like never before, holding me close for those fleeting moments? Even now, in this cage my lips still tingled with her energy. She had kissed me like that, why? Why had it felt so damned good? She was a lesbian and I was straight. Or was I? Did she know something that I didn't? Oh, I wish I had kissed her back!

Most of my adult life had been spent dating Calum and I thought I was in love. I always felt safe in his arms but it was somehow different, better when Claire held me. Her closeness had a palpable energy like a black hole, pulling me towards her that I had never felt with anyone else. There was a profound sense of loss when she let go of me. The only time I remember being discombobulated like I was around Claire was when my cheer squad shared the showers in the gym with girls from the basketball or soccer team. These strong athletic women just had an unnerving effect on me that I had never thought about until now. Men never did. Daddy would probably disown me if I came out as a lesbian. I was on the brink of losing him over my enslavement and it scared me. His love and respect were very important to me. Ever since mom passed away I strived to be the apple of his eye and now had failed in spectacular fashion. Crashing and burning was a more apt description. How could I regain his trust?

In some ways I felt freer now than at any point in my life with the shackles of society's expectations removed now that I was a naked slave girl. I had been reborn when the branding burned the big D badge into my ass forever marking me as a slave. I was no longer the sexually repressed "good girl" striving to live up to my father's expectations. Claire had tricked me with the placebo horny juice, setting free the inner slut that I, like many women before me, had spent a lifetime repressing deep within their public personas. Now she had encouraged me to embrace my new found sexuality as I moved into the next stage of my life. Was I up to the challenge? There were so many unanswered questions concerning who I was and what I really wanted out of life. Foremost was my sexuality, my sexual orientation, could I actually be a lesbian or possibly bisexual? Was my attraction towards Claire due to my sudden enslavement and dependence on her coupled with my sexual awakening?

The one thing that I did know was that I no longer loved Calum, if I ever had truly loved him. I had been in love with the image of being his wife while meeting all of my social circle and father's expectations. There was someone else out there for me. I just knew it. Could it be Claire? Only time would tell. She did say that "we" would get through this together, not that she would help me get through this. Did that imply that there was an "us" to look forward to? That possibility intrigued me.

Claire had warned me that Lone Oak Equestrian Academy where I was destined to spend the next five to six months of my life was an obedience school on steroids with a truly evil twist. They were the best in the nation at transforming a formerly free woman into an obedient sex starved ponygirl who exists solely to please her master. These slaves regressed to a blissful childlike innocence where they see their slavery as natural, losing their personal identity, their sense of self, no longer possessing personal dreams and goals. Instead they feel safest happily existing within the parameters of the routine daily existence of their slavery as defined by their benevolent masters.

Lone Oak achieves this goal by reducing the slave's capacity for logical thought through the complete immersion into the ponygirl lifestyle twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for the duration of their time at the school. With the slave collars they take away the slave's ability to communicate, limiting them to horse sounds, reducing their capacity to think and entertain themselves and each other. Some slaves never utter a word for the duration of their stay. There are no TVs, computers or reading materials to stimulate their intellect. They lose the use of their hands during training. When not in armbinders the slaves are kept handcuffed with their arms behind their backs. For the first few weeks to a month new slaves lose the use of their arms altogether, becoming totally dependent on their trainers for all bodily functions, bathing, and even eating. To prevent atrophy, the arms are freed for twice daily slave yoga.

The slave has no choice but to concentrate on being a good ponygirl during the training since it is the only activity other than sexual arts instruction that breaks the monotony of her existence. Socialization consists of free time outdoors in a pasture with the other ponygirls where they can run and play like ponies. Visitors will come to the fence offering flavored sugar cubes. The ponygirls that have completely succumbed to slave mind happily trot over to the fence to eat the sugar cube out of the palm of the nice free person's hand. All the while basking in the attention these masters give them when being petted, fondled and masturbated to climax all while being told they are good little ponies. After months of living like this these slaves even begin to pick up the mannerisms of horses.

A well trained dressage ponygirl instinctively, without conscious thought, complies with the trainers' commands, either verbal, with the whip or the tug of a chain attached to their nipples or labia, when performing. They enter a mental zone where only they and their trainer are present, where their minds solely exist as a conduit transmitting their trainer's command to their bodies for action. It is a trance-like state that slaves could easily become lost in as they assume their ponygirl persona in the artificial environment created by Lone Oak. According to Claire I needed to develop the ability to transition into and out of this trance-like state in order to survive with my mind intact. Over ninety-five percent of the slaves sent to Lone Oak graduated with a serious case of slave mind which was the goal of the program. After all, most masters wanted a happy and obedient ponygirl that existed to meet all of their master's needs.

The only gratification the slaves were given throughout their stay was sexual in nature. All the ponygirls received regular shots of a legal combination of estrogen, progesterone, and other chemicals commonly referred to as horny juice. These shots ominously spiked their sexual arousal, reinforcing this emphasis on achieving orgasmic release. Sexual intimacy is the most deeply personal act a woman can perform and Lone Oak uses it to not only break the slave's resistance, but also as the basis for their rewards and punishment system. In short they made the ponygirls hypersexual creating an excessive preoccupation with sexual fantasies, urges and behaviors using sexual pleasure as a tool to control the slaves. The only other training available to the ponygirls to break the monotony of their new lives consisted of sex skills instruction which reinforced the hypersexual orientation of these slaves. All Lone Oak graduates attained the same five star status as graduates of the renowned Venus Academy and Pearson's Pussy Ranch. Sexual pleasure in the form of climaxes rewarded good behavior while prolonged edging and orgasm denial punished poor performance. Trainers used finger vibes to quickly reward a good pony or edge a bad pony. Whipping was available to punish bad behavior but was rarely needed due to the success of the sexualization programing.

Lone Oak had even sexualized routine tail insertions. Trainers sexually stimulated a ponygirl with handheld butterfly vibrators while forcing the "tail" in as she relaxed, often while climaxing, frequently with the anal plug on vibration mode to enhance the pleasure. In this way each ponygirl learned to associate the anal plugs, and any pain from sudden insertion, with sexual pleasure as part of the sexualization process that all ponygirl trainees went through. Over time the ponygirls looked forward to their morning tail insertions often whinnying impatiently for their turn.

In short they were going to turn me into a brainless drugged sex addict to control my behavior while teaching me the skills to perform as both a dressage ponygirl and high caliber pleasure slut in a program designed to give me slave mind. All I had to do was graduate without coming down with this disorder. Claire explained that after the first month an owner could place their slave in a training regimen that was not designed to induce slave mind although roughly half of those slaves still came down with some aspects of that mental disorder. I really hoped I would be moved into this training option. This program appealed mostly to owners of slaves designated for follow on training at one of the high end consort schools or FINO slaves who were wives or girlfriends of men who did not want to completely lose them to slave mind.

Prior to my enslavement I was working as an accountant in Daddy's firm working towards becoming a CPA. Claire advised me to mentally work through accounting and math problems each evening and morning to keep my mind sharp in an attempt to prevent the onset of slave mind. She promised to visit me to spend some quality time with me to break up the monotony. Her definition of quality time had my dirty mind running wild with the possibilities. I was already really looking forward to that first visit, my pussy throbbing at the prospects of what could be.

Claire further promised me that if I was able to successfully graduate while avoiding coming down with slave mind, I could be considered for one of the elite consort programs in the state. She pointed out that the attorney, Sharon Price, was a happy Broadstone graduate with a husband that she loved and children that they adored. There were a lot of things that I had learned about Amelia Bradford since her unfortunate incarceration in the Houston jail. Claire added to that list, explaining that Amelia was a Broadstone graduate, had sponsored Sharon Price and a number of other slaves through the program and helped match her with her current husband. If I was lucky Amelia would help get me into that program and do the same for me. The other option was to be sold at auction as a dressage ponygirl for four years which terrified me, especially if I succumbed to slave mind. Would I ever be able to recover from that experience? After the last two days spent with Claire I was not so certain that a husband was what I needed. I decided that if given the chance in the future I would kiss Claire back to try and sort out my feelings for her to determine if there was a future for us.

My life was only going to get harder starting with ponygirl training at Lone Oak. I dreaded what was to come while promising myself that I would strive to make Claire proud of me in every aspect of my upcoming training. Since I had the courage and will power to lay myself onto the branding bench it dawned on me that I could also get through this ordeal while trying to make the best of my situation. What would it really be like going through the highly sexualized training at Lone Oak I wondered? If I am going to be forced to have lots of sex, I might as well try and enjoy it. My pussy throbbed as I thought about the possibilities. God, I'm a horny slave now. Approaching my future with the mindset that this newly freed slut would make Claire proud just felt right. Why did I so want to make her proud of me?

My transit was almost over after the driver dropped off the other slaves in the van. I was his last delivery. By the time the Pony Express van arrived at Lone Oak the jismstache and drool had dried on my body. The chastity belt actually felt good, during the trip I tried to manipulate it by grabbing the strap with my hands and pulling on it while wishing it could vibrate. I had become such a horny slave in such a short time. Needless to say I had a drippy slave snatch when we arrived at Lone Oak. I wondered if the driver could smell my arousal in the front of the van.

The driver unloaded my cage and wheeled me into a large stable with people and ponygirls moving about. Trainer Raul Estes walked up and took custody of me from the driver, signing the bill of lading, removing me from the cage and having me stand. First Estes removed the shipping collar, replacing it with one of Lone Oak's. Then the cuffs were replaced while he just took out my gag. Then he unsealed my chastity belt and pulled it out, handing it to the driver who held up my chastity belt with my vaginal fluids coating the prong.

"This slut is really slave stupid. They're always the ones that get aroused during transport. Just look at the juices she left on this thing. She was probably trying to cum by jiggling it. I could smell her stink during the drive over here as she wiggled in her cage."

"That's just potential dripping out of her slave snatch. This pleasure slut looks like she has what it takes to make a good ponygirl. Even if she is a little old to be starting her training now."

Old! I was only twenty-three years old, in the prime of life. Typical man, the first thing they do is check your tits and pussy for potential. I was in shape, with a well-toned body. I'll show him. I almost said something but bit my tongue. Hopefully I was learning. The grinning driver wheeled away my cage leaving me in front of Trainer Estes in the middle of the stable bustling with activity.

"Knees."

Quickly I moved to the kneeling position with my knees splayed apart making my glistening pussy visible while I sat up straight, jutting my breasts out like a well-trained slave. Once again slave yoga saved the day.

"You are at the Lone Oak Equestrian Academy in Flower Mound, Texas. You have been enrolled at Lone Oak for training as a dressage ponygirl. During the time you are here, you will be treated as a slave. I am required by law to tell you that the slave collar you were just fitted with can deliver a powerful and extremely painful electric shock if you attempt to leave this property without permission. The pony tails we use can also emit a debilitating shock and a less painful shock used for punishment. Both the collar and the tail are fitted with GPS devices while tracking your sexual activity. The tail also acts as a large vibrator with different settings. Additionally, all Lone Oak employees are authorized to use any means deemed necessary to compel you to comply with all orders given to you, and those means include electrical shock and whipping. If you follow my instructions, you will not be hurt. Do you understand?" announced Trainer Estes.

"Whinny...whinny?"

I tried answering yes while nodding my head and all that came out were horse sounds. I looked up in confusion at Estes and he just grinned down at me. Claire had warned me about this. Intellectually, I knew I would not be able to talk but experiencing the loss of my voice was still a shock when it first happened. It dawned on me that I was now lower than a regular slave who could communicate like a human. I was now an animal, relegated to a whinny, nodding, shaking my head or stomping a hoof. For some reason this further degradation sent a tingle to my pussy getting it wetter yet.

Laughing down at me while reviewing my file on his iPad Estes continued, "The collars also have a devoicing setting eliminating your ability to speak. Rumor has it you are a mouthy slave so the setting will stay on."

What was in my file I wondered? Then he unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. Already! I figured I would at least get to pee and be fed a late lunch before any sexual escapades. How wrong I was.

"I have some time to kill until Gumdrop arrives in a few minutes. I'll be in-processing the two of you together as a pair. Mouth."

Upon hearing the universal command to suck dick I scooched forward on my knees with my hands still cuffed behind my back. Taking his hardening shaft in my mouth while looking up at him with a seductive look, I began to lick and suck his cock. He was looking at the iPad ignoring me although his penis was paying attention, quickly growing hard into a substantial piece of meat. Soon he was gently moving his hips nonchalantly, thrusting his cock into my mouth, using me as a self-cleaning human fleshlight. It felt like he was testing the waters to see how I would respond. All the while people and ponygirls moved about minding their business like nothing unusual was going on. I just focused on sucking his dick as I blushed in embarrassment. Then it hit me. Gumdrop! Could it be Elle?

Looking down at me he grinned. "So how did you get the name Starfish?"

With his cock testing my gag reflex he clearly wasn't expecting an answer. I looked up at him with my most coquettish, innocent look thinking, "If you only knew," as my pussy throbbed in anticipation.

The End (or is it?)

At some future time, I may circle back after I finish Allison's story and cover the many adventures of Starfish and Gumdrop. I hope you enjoyed reading the detour as much as I had writing it.