Laura Ch. 06

My discomfort meant nothing to the shopkeeper or Lexis. They both waited impatiently for me to strip and when I finally began to undress, they both watched me attentively.

As I pulled my shirt off over my head, kicked off my shoes and unzipped my pants, the proprietor's gaze remained calm, composed and probing. She reminded me of the judges at the Olympics, studying the athletes, scrutinizing their performances and their form before rendering a judgment and assigning them a score.

Then, when I was fully naked, she called out for two of her assistants.

"Claire! Charolette!" the woman bellowed.

Claire and Charlotte were both wholesome looking young women, perhaps my age, perhaps a little bit older. Claire had a tape measure draped across her shoulders and she didn't seem at all shocked when her boss told her to take measurements of my naked body.

Claire instructed me to raise my arms so that she could measure my bust size. I couldn't help squirming as she pressed her hands against my breasts, and the tape measure kept rubbing up against my nipples, causing them to stiffen.

Claire measured the size of my waist, hips and breasts. These measurements didn't surprise me much, but then Claire proceeded to take measurements of my mouth, my neck and other parts of my body I didn't expect.

My heart pounded madly in my chest and my head reeled with a sense of unreality. There I was, stark naked in the middle of their showroom where literally anyone could walk in and see me! And Claire hovered over me with her measuring tape, touching me all over as she took my measurements and examined various parts of my body.

My blood pressure spiked. I felt faint when Claire ordered me to spread my legs and bend over so she could record the tightness of my anus.

"Um, wait," I squeaked, my voice tremulous. "We're in a public place! Shouldn't I be taken to an examination room or a fitting room or something?"

Lexis smacked me on my bottom and said sharply, "Laura! You're making me look bad! Do as you're told!"

Reluctantly I bent over one of the display saddles and spread my legs indecently wide. Then Charlotte pried my buttocks apart and Claire snapped on a latex glove and began to lubricate my pink, hairless anus.

While I was bent over, trembling and worried that any minute a customer, the mailman, a package delivery person or a lost motorist would come in and see me shamefully and indecently naked, Claire worked a stainless steel sizing tool into my anus and forced my sphincter muscle wide open, carefully measuring and recording my anal circumference.

"Aaahhh," I gasped as the cold metal instrument intruded rudely into a delicate part of my anatomy.

"It's so we can get the right size anal plug for you, girl," the proprietor explained. "The anal plug anchors the horsetail. And it's a tradition among the owners of pony slaves to use the largest plug possible.

I was overwhelmed with feelings of helplessness and exposure as Claire and Charlotte examined my naked body in disturbing detail. I was so fraught with emotion that it didn't occur to me until later that it should have taken them no more than six or seven minutes to take all of my measurements. Instead, it took them almost an hour.

Some of the measurements they took didn't even make sense; like measuring my perineum or measuring the length of my pink slit from the top to the bottom, or the circumference of my areolas.

I'm assuming Lexis wanted to play games with my emotions and told the store owner to drag my examination on for as long as possible to maximize my feelings of humiliation.

* * *

It took almost a week for my custom pony gear to be ready. When Lexis and I returned to the shop, the most disturbing part was the butt plug. It was impossibly huge, with a horsetail attached to one end. I was ordered to bend over at the waist and spread my legs indecently wide so the greased plug could be shoved into my asshole.

The second most disturbing part was the bit gag. It was intrusive and impossible to dislodge. It forced me to keep my mouth open and my tongue pressed down. Vocal communication became impossible with the bit gag wedged into my mouth. I could make grunting or panting sounds but that was about it.

There was also a leather harness, leather boots, a restrictive leather collar, blinders and other things, but the bit and the anal plug were the two things that I hated the most. And to make my humiliation complete, Lexis insisted that I model my newly purchased pony gear in front of a large, three-part mirror.

Flanked by Lexis and two of the shop employees, I stared at my reflection. The strict bondage that forced my arms tightly behind my back made my boobs stick out indecently, as if inviting everyone in the area to cup my breasts and toy with my conspicuously erect nipples. The harness squeezed my waist and made it look even narrower than before. My bald pubes glistened with my own sexual juices, the horsetail made me feel less than human and the wicked bit gag silenced me and forced me to drool on myself.

"Ughhh!" I gurgled frantically around my gag. I didn't look like myself anymore. I looked like some sort of mythical creature that was three parts slut and one part animal

"I think she looks exotic," Claire said as she stood close to me and squeezed my ass. "Can you imagine the way her horsetail will bounce as her ass is reddened with a buggy whip and she's forced to gallop?"

I made another unhappy whimpering noise in response to that comment, but everyone ignored my obvious distress. Pony slaves are expected to endure a great deal of humiliation and suffering. None of the women in the store were going to feel any sympathy for me.

My degrading images in the mirrors swept my dignity away and left me feeling like I was no longer a human being. I was just a naked sex slave, to be ogled, objectified and raped. And just when I felt I couldn't feel any more humbled, the door to the shop opened up and three customers walked into the showroom.

The customers stared at me but none of them seemed particularly shocked to see a naked girl standing there, bound and gagged. Apparently, this sort of thing happened often enough that regular customers had become accustomed to seeing lewd bondage spectacles inside the store.

I turned to face the newcomers and tried to protest my humanity, but the gag in my mouth prevented me from saying anything.

* * *

Once Lexis had all my pony gear, she wanted to grab Keira so the three of us could go up to the pony farm and register me for pony training. Unfortunately, Keira had a very hectic schedule, and it would be at least a week before she could come with us. Lexis was too impatient to wait for Keira to become available, so she informed me that it would just be the two of us.

The pony farm was a facility located on eight acres just outside of Campo Verde. According to Lexis it was a full-service stable offering 14 matted box stalls, six outdoor private paddocks and two large pastures. There were two arenas available onsite—a fully enclosed, lighted indoor arena for rainy day and evening use and a 225' x 180' outdoor arena for day and warm weather use.

"They have a tack room available so slave owners can keep custom bits, bridles, harnesses, horsetails and other pony gear stored onsite indefinitely," Lexis explained. "Since you're the slave, I'll expect you to carry everything. It would be improper for the slave owner to do all the manual labor, when she has a slave at her beck and call."

I grabbed the leather satchel bag with all the pony gear from the trunk and then Lexis ordered me to strip naked.

"What?" I asked, confused and surprised. "Here? Now? We're still in the parking lot!"

"People are ignoring you, dear," Lexis explained. "Right now, you're just a face in the crowd. But once you get naked, people will be drawn to you like a moth to the flame. Your status as a sex slave will become obvious and everyone will want to be close to you."

I was tempted to argue with Lexis, but then I saw the expectant look on her face and I thought better of it.

And although I didn't say anything out loud, the thought of being in the parking lot without a single stitch of clothing triggered my libido powerfully. It had something to do with being outdoors. It made me feel more vulnerable and exposed.

By the time I began to unbutton my blouse, Lexis was staring at me. When I had removed my blouse and my bra, Lexis took them both and tossed them into the trunk of her Mercedes.

My shoes were next, then I squirmed awkwardly out of my skintight jeans. Lexis took those from me, and they went into the back of the trunk as well.

Within a few seconds I had divested myself of most of my clothes; however, Lexis seemed somehow disappointed with the speed at which I undressed. My socks and my tiny thong panties were the last items to go, and then I was standing there in the parking lot, stark naked.

Being utterly naked and exposed instantly made me feel far more submissive and vulnerable. During the drive out to the pony farm, I had felt pretty much like Lexis, and I were equals. Once I was naked, I immediately felt as if my sister vastly outranked me.

Lexis had said that people would be automatically drawn to me once I was naked, and she was proved correct. As soon as Lexis closed the trunk, locking all my clothes inside, several people lost interest in what they had been doing before and began walking in my direction.

All three of them were women. Two were about my age. The third one appeared to be in her late thirties. One of them noticed that Lexis and I were identical in appearance.

"I'm sorry," one of the younger women said to Lexis. "Did you clone yourself?"

"We're twins," Lexis explained.

"You enslaved your twin sister?" the middle-aged woman asked. "That just seems so..."

"I know, it's unconventional," Lexis admitted. "But she's a beauty. It's highly unlikely I could have done better searching for a sex slave outside my family tree."

Lexis ordered me to spread my legs and clasp my hands at the back of my neck to allow all three women to examine me.

They gathered close. One of them grabbed my buttocks and squeezed. Another one of them placed her hand between my legs and worked her fingers up and down my pink slit. In almost no time my pubic lips became plump and slick with my juices. I could feel a soft, wet pulse in my sex and wondered with horror if she would keep doing that until I shuddered in a public, orgasmic spectacle.

I had been fingered to orgasm by strange women before, but somehow, being forced to cum by a teenager while standing naked in a parking lot just seemed unbearable. I squirmed as she worked two of her fingers inside my pussy.

I found myself trembling with mortification and then Lexis said, "Give her the crop if you like."

Lexis had pulled a riding crop out of the satchel and handed it to one of the teenagers. I was ordered to turn around and place my hands on the car so that my bottom could be whipped. I assumed the police frisk position with my legs spread, bent over at the waist, my ass lewdly on display and my hands gripping the roof of the car.

It doesn't take a genius to inflict pain with a riding crop. The teenager easily inflicted stinging pain across my backside every time she swung the crop. I bit my lower lip and tried not to scream, but I couldn't help but moan aloud again, as the stinging blows came harder and harder as she warmed to the task of reddening my poor bottom.

When my ass was throbbing with pain, Lexis asked for the girl to return the crop. Then she asked where she could find the office of the person in charge.

The person in charge was named Ms. Cheval. The middle-aged woman promised to show us the way, and all five of us walked there together. Of course, Lexis's new friends grabbed my sore buttocks several times as we walked.

* * *

Ms. Cheval was tall, regal and poised. She was dressed in a custom-tailored blazer, jodhpurs and stylish riding boots. She glanced at me and gave me a disapproving look as if I had somehow managed to offend her before she even began examining me.

I had some experience with free women being cold and impersonal in the way that they examined my naked body but to my mind Ms. Cheval seemed like she was deliberately being rough and abusive in the way she examined me, as if she were trying to get a reaction out of me and provoke me into viciously complaining.

I knew better than to complain when free women abused me. I bit my lower lip, tensed up and remained steadfastly quiet as Ms. Cheval roughly squeezed my breasts, pinched my sensitive nipples and pried my buttocks apart before rudely examining my anus. After testing my buttocks for firmness, she smacked my ass hard enough to leave a stinging handprint and proceeded to grab my thighs, gripping them tightly and squeezing my leg muscles, starting up near my buttocks and working her way down to my calves.

She pinched my flesh in several places as she went down my legs. And just as I thought she was done pinching me, she reached between my legs and pinched together my swollen pubic lips.

"Your slave has admirable muscle tone," Ms. Cheval said. "However, she's too short to be a racing pony. All the slaves who are successful at pulling a chariot or a carriage are long-legged sprinters. Laura just doesn't have the legs to win races."

"Wait!" my sister blurted out. "Are you saying you're rejecting Laura?"

"I only train winners," Ms. Cheval said imperiously. "Laura isn't going to win any races...not with her stature."

"She's 5'5"!" my sister exploded. "She's not short!"

Ms. Cheval sniffed derisively and informed Lexis that I needed to be at least 5'9" if I wanted to be competitive at pony racing. Lexis got increasingly irate as Ms. Cheval continued to denigrate my height. Of course, as Lexis and I were identical twins, she was the exact same height as me. By insulting me for being too short, she was insulting Lexis as well.

I suddenly wished that I were gagged. I had a powerful urge to make a sarcastic comment where I asked if Ms. Cheval was training pony slaves or recruiting basketball players for the WNBA. Saying something so flippant to a free woman would surely have gotten me punished, so I struggled to keep my mouth shut, but it wasn't easy.