Paradise Isle, The Spy, Pt. 01

At that point Cinthia's brain completely shut down. She didn't really faint, but her body no longer seemed to be hers to control.

She only barely registered being diapered, and then unstrapped from the chair.

As she was in no condition to walk, the team loaded her into a wheelchair and still naked, except for the diaper, rolled her out to the jeep to haul her to some other place.

All the while, she remained indifferent, nearly comatose, slumping like a rag doll.

She paid no attention as they drove through the resort and into a quiet, wooded area just past the hotel buildings.

When they stopped, and she opened her eyes the building in front of her looked like a modern barn, surrounded by fences and corrals.

Feeling a little more with it, she wondered, now what?

"Alright, up you go, come along." The policeman ordered. "And no more screaming or misbehaving, or you'll regret it."

Shakily she stepped out of the jeep, with the policeman holding onto her, and allowed herself to be walked through a door into a fairly nice room. Certainly not a regular barn, with hay and smelly animals. But she realized that the room itself probably took up only a small portion of the building she had seen from the outside.

When she glanced around the space, though, it did look like it belonged in a stable. The place was full of leather straps, harnesses and saddles.

Inside the door, two men waited for them. They greeted the officer and a woman who had just appeared and followed them in, apparently her name was Beatriz.

Then they turned to Cinthia. Smiling and greeting her pleasantly. They seemed nice enough, introducing themselves as Emilio, and Samuel. They welcomed her to their tack room.

It meant nothing to her. She'd never been on a farm, or to a ranch.

Emilio stepped in front of her and took good look at her naked body. She blushed.

"I hope all of the measurements you provided, when you filled in your guest profile, were legitimate. Some girls try and cheat, and they wind up regretting it."

"Uh, huh." Summer replied. She'd thought about adjusting her numbers, but had decided against it. Her real body was just fine.

"Good, we've prepared your tack, based on those numbers. All the parts should fit you like a glove.

She didn't understand at all. Wasn't tack the harness horses wore?

Cautiously, she mumbled, "I don't understand."

The ranch hand, at least that's the way he looked to her, took a step back. "We've been told that you're here for the Pony package, and that it's more or less involuntary." Emilio explained.

"Huh?"

He looked over to the escort, who'd accompanied them into the building. "She hasn't been told? Anything?"

"Apparently not. She's here on the Governor's orders." The woman said as she nodded over to the policeman, hovering nearby.

"Okay, well then, we'll deal with it. You know we don't get all that many involuntary ponies. They can be troublesome."

Between the two attendants and the policeman, she knew she had no choice. And besides she was still focused on the whole pony thing. What did that mean?

The more she thought about it, the better her understanding became. This place was all about sex and kink and fetishes, and she had seen internet photos, she wasn't a prude, of women dressed in harness and pretending to be ponies. Or being treated like horses.

She remembered it as a BDSM thing, nothing she'd ever been interested in.

But now, they wanted her to play that role? Dear God!

Did she have a choice?

She looked around the barn. There was nowhere to run. And she couldn't fight the cop. She noticed that the other two guys each had riding crops hanging from their belts. Were those things for use on ponygirls? Oh, hell no!

Emilio then stepped back up and turned her to face him, holding her by her arms, they were still handcuffed behind her back.

"Now, there girl. You need to behave yourself while we outfit you in your tack. You have no choice in the matter so let's make this easy for both you and us. Understand?"

When she didn't acknowledge him, he gave her a shake. He was strong, and being manhandled as if she were a little girl frightened her.

"Well?"

"Yes, sir." She replied, quietly, submissively and resignedly.

"Good. Now this first step will be unpleasant for both of us. But it will get done. Understand?"

When she just stood there like a terrified puppy, he repeated himself, more forcefully. "Understand?"

"Yes," she squeaked.

"Good.

"First, though we'll have to remove that diaper. And don't worry if you wet yourself, we don't like it, but we've seen it before."

Oh God, another indignity!

She didn't even think about going back to being fully naked in front of strangers. Now, along with everything else, she'd be further humiliated by peeing uncontrollably in front of everyone.

With the damp diaper unceremoniously removed and tossed aside, Emilio, and Samuel, walked her over to a waist-high bench and pushed her down so that she was bent at the waist over the thing. Then Emilio held her down with a hand on her back while Samuel went to work.

She sensed him standing behind her ass, and then jumped and squealed as he began rubbing a lotion around her ass hole. And she screamed when he pushed a finger into her rear. And it got worse when it became two and then three fingers.

She had once before allowed some guy to screw her there, but she'd hated it and never allowed it to happen again. Now here was some stranger pushing his hand into her, in front of the others!

She struggled even harder, but jumped and screamed again when someone hit her ass with one of those riding crops! It stung like she been burned by a soldering iron.

"Settle down!" the guy yelled at her.

At least he had removed his fingers from her now greasy ass hole.

She tried to calm herself, but when she felt something else enter her ass, she again began to squirm, and received a second agonizing whipping for her troubles.

The swat hurt more than the penetration and as she suffered the thing slowly entered her. She pictured a butt plug, and when the large head had been worked in and her sphincter had closed around the thin neck, she knew that was it. At last, she was finally able to take a breath.

Although she'd seen small butt plugs in stores and on the net, she'd never had one inside her, and this one seemed very large.

It also felt strange as it seemed to have some sort of extension that ran up her crack toward her tail bone. It was all so bizarre.

"Now you have your tail. Get used to it. Ponygirl" Samuel said.

The thing felt huge inside her, and her ass hole hurt.

And she did feel something tickling the backs of her legs. A pony tail?

Finally, Emilio lifted his hand and helped her stand up.

As she did, she felt the thing in her ass shift and the tail brush the backs of her legs. Damn!

With a hand on her arm, he led her a few steps over toward the policeman. He was standing back smiling, He'd obviously enjoyed the show, the bastard.

"You can remove those handcuffs now. We'll need to string her up." Emilio said.

Cinthia was actually relieved about getting her arms and hands back, but when he mentioned stringing her up? What the hell was that about? What now?

She felt the cop unlock her hands and immediately pulled them around in front of her so she could stretch her arms and shoulders and massage some use into her numb hands.

As she did, the policeman stepped back while the two guys, considerately gave her a free minute to deal with her aches and pains.

The cop, spoke up. "Unless you think you'll need me, I'll head back. Call if she gives you any trouble. We can always just lock her up until tomorrow's boat to the mainland."

"Oh, I think we can handle things from here on. And I think she's too pretty to throw away like that."

Of course, Cinthia heard and was relieved, sort of...

Well before she was pain-free, the two guys each grabbed an arm and leading her over beneath a ceiling rafter, they fastened her wrists into leather cuffs and hoisted her up until she was standing on her tiptoes.

She groaned, loudly as she tried to stand on her toes. She was only just barely able to stabilize herself and take a tiny bit of weight off her arms and wrists.

"We'll only need to keep you there for a few minutes. Just hold on." One of the guys told her, almost kindly.

They then proceeded to wrap a stiff leather waist cincher around her middle and lace it insanely tightly around her. The thing ran from just under her breasts down to the tops of her hips, and it compressed her waist and her lower ribs, tightly.

It made breathing difficult too. She had once worn a decorative corset for some forgotten lover, but it was never this tight or stiff. She did remember, though that she could breathe better if she focused on shallower breathes from her upper chest cavity.

A few minutes later they were done in back and they lowered her to the ground so she could stand flat-footed. Although they took the weight off her arms, they didn't free them from the cuffs, so she wound up with her hands held by her shoulders.

"This will make it easier for us all." One guy mumbled.

Cinthia didn't really care; she was still trying to get used to the strict thing laced around her middle.

She tested a little and found that she couldn't twist at the waist, nor could she bend much.

When she moaned, she was told that she'd get used to it.

That didn't make her feel any better.

The guys though, apparently weren't done. They were still working behind her tugging and pinching. Then she heard some loud snaps from back there. And she jumped a little.

"Don't worry, we're just securing your corset."

"Yah, riveting it closed."

"What?" she cried.

"Quiet!" The first guy ordered, and she again felt a stinging slap on her ass.

She yelped. Again, the riding crop. And with her hands still cuffed she couldn't rub away the pain. Once again, she started to cry.

And she couldn't rub at her eyes either, as she watched the two guys, warily.

They had stepped over to a nearby workbench to pick up some other part of her new outfit.

They came back to her with a pair of tall, leather boots. She tried her best to see what was special about them, but it was difficult. She finally figured out that although they were fairly normal as they covered her ankles and calves, they held her heels high off the ground and her toes and the balls of her feet were slid into hooves, that looked just like a horse's.

Once they were placed on her feet and laced closed, she stood much taller, something like five whole inches.

That's what she gauged based on how much slack she now had in her wrists.

The things were difficult to stand in and she was actually relieved that she could help her balance by grabbing the chains that held her arms up.

To add to her troubles, as she took little steps to gain her balance, she heard her new hooves clip-clopping on the hard floor beneath her. Just like a horse.

Frustrated by the things on her feet, she growled, and Emilio chuckled. "You'll get used to your hooves, and to the music they make."

"Music?" she mumbled.

"Yes, the lovely sounds of ponygirls prancing about."

She was trying to figure out what he meant when Samuel knelt down behind her and grabbed an ankle. "Hold still while I secure these."

She did as she was told, and as she felt him working on her boots, she again heard the clicks of whet she now knew was the rivet gun. Like her corset, her boots wouldn't be coming off any time soon.

When he finally stood up, he gave her a slap on the ass. She was actually happy that he hadn't used the damn crop. Then it struck her how absurd that was. She was actually pleased that she'd only gotten a spanking on her bare ass.

"You have some slack. Walk around a bit and practice with your hooves," he said.

Not wanting another spank, or something worse, she carefully stumbled around in a circle beneath the beam where her arms were tethered. She clip-clopped along, gaining a little confidence, but also starting to feel the ache in her feet, ankles and calves.

She knew that would only get worse. Damn it all!

She'd only made two loops before Emilio came back to her with more leather.

"This isn't really leather, by the way. It's artificial. It can get wet and not shrink or deteriorate like the real stuff." He said as he showed her a wide leather, or whatever, collar.

He wrapped the thing around her neck and closed it snuggly in the back. She again heard the click of the rivet gun. Shit!

The collar was tall and stiff and it limited her head's movements. Testing it, she found that she could only twist her neck an inch or two to the right or left, and only look up or down an inch or two. More misery...

Over the next twenty minutes they added straps to her body, most of which connected to either the collar or the corset, or both.

A set attached to the front of the corset, circled her breasts and then with a 'Y' connection at their top, also attached to the collar. They were also riveted in place. She felt, but couldn't see, that her breasts were slightly cinched, and held out prominently by the combination of corset top and broad strapping.

They added additional straps behind her, that connected her collar to the corset. Those added a bit more pressure to her neck and forced her to hold her head up a little straighter.

Of course, with her arms pulled up and her head held tightly by the collar she couldn't look down to see what she looked like, all trussed up in her new pony harness, but she could imagine, and it made her sick. Especially when she thought about the relative permanence of it all.

They're turning me into an animal.

At last, they lowered and released her arms. By then although she was still a bit unsteady on her hooves, she didn't need them to help her balance. And it felt wonderful to have them back under her control.

But that freedom was short lived. The two guys each grabbed one of her hands and bending them into fists, around a cylindrical pad, slipped a glove over each, forcing them into fists that she couldn't do anything with.

Then, they slipped another pair of hoof boots over the top. Actually, they were more like opera gloves covering her hands and forearms, but they ended in hooves, only slightly smaller than the ones on her feet.

And as she stood there, wobbly, they secured the things in place with rivets, like everything else.

She couldn't believe it. She no longer had hands! How could she do anything with those things on her arms. Hell, were they even arms, now? She had four hooves on her extremities. Did that mean that like a real pony, she now had four legs?

I am an animal, now, and she groaned pathetically.

Samuel seemed to take pity on her. 'You'll get used to them, little ponygirl. It won't be so bad. The grooms will take good care of you."

She just stood there holding her hand-hooves up in front of her face so she could see the things, and wonder how bad this was all going to be.

Her panicky examination was interrupted when Emilio returned with one last collection of straps, these were much more delicate, than the previous ones. And he showed her that they were vaguely in the form of an 'X', before he again knelt down in front of her and used his hands to force her legs apart. Cinthia tried to resist, but when she almost lost her balance, she just went along and slid her hooves apart.

She shuddered a bit as she felt him use small buckles on the bottom of the corset, to attach one end of the straps, before passing them between her legs, on either side of her pussy, to Samuel who was now kneeling behind her.

"These are not permeant. They exist to hold your tail-plug in place, and frame your pretty pussy." Emilio explained, with a chuckle. Confirming to her that he loved his job.

After the two guys stood up, Cinthia shuffled her hooves back together, feeling the straps pulling on her crotch as she moved. Since they were apparently mounted to the edge of the corset, out towards her hips, they tended to want to push her legs apart down there.

"See, the center of the X holds your plug in and makes sure your tail is always waving prettily behind you. And in front, your pussy is on full display and the catheter isn't blocked either." Emilio said, as if he was proud of the configuration.

"Yes, you'll be able to pee freely." Samuel said, giggling.

The prick. That part of her humiliating pony outfit was the absolute worst.

Again, they left her standing there while they returned to their work table. It was almost empty now; her ordeal was near an end. At least for the moment.

But what now? She asked herself, as she stood there. She was afraid to move, not knowing what the crotch straps would do to her if she tried to walk.

Just a couple minutes later, Samuel came at her carrying what she recognized as some sort of head harness; a bridle, and after everything else, Cinthia was really starting to regret not just her trip to the island, but her whole choice of profession. ex-profession ow.

She stood helplessly, crying again, as he slipped the collection of straps on her head.

She had trouble figuring it all out as she felt him adjusting the thing. There was a strap around her head, across her forehead. An inverted Y down between her eyes, that split at the bridge of her nose and ran down her cheeks. That same strap split in two at her forehead and the two lengths ran front-to-back over her head, on both sides of her mane, and down to the base of her neck where they connected with yet another strap that ran back up to rings at the corners of her mouth. She could feel it all, but since she couldn't see any of it, it was all very confusing. One thing was certain, as it was buckled in place, it all fit tightly to her head.

When he stepped back, she realized that the harness also held a pair of blinders. Her peripheral vision was cut off, just like she'd seen on working draft-horses in photos.

She was still trying to figure it all out when Emilio stepped over with more. "This is the last of it. But the part you'll probably come to hate the most. It will complete you as a pony."

He then held up a rubber bit, about an inch in diameter, and more straps. "Open," he ordered.

Reluctantly, Cinthia opened her mouth and accepted the thing in between her teeth. Emilio then fastened a strap around the back of her head. It also connected to the rings mounted at the sides of her mouth, and held the bit tightly in her mouth.

While she was feeling at the thing with her tongue, she felt him drape a set of reins over her shoulders and down her back.

"There you go. Cinthia. You're a very pretty pony. Enjoy your stay." Emilio said with a sly smile, as the escort Beatriz stepped forward.

She reached out and grabbed one of the reins up close to her cheek.

"Come Spy, you pretty pony, there's a mirror over here, you can see your new self."

With the bit in her mouth when she tried to ask about 'Spy', it just came out gibberish, but the woman heard, and pulled her to a stop. "Ponies don't talk. Never. Try it again, ever, and you'll get whipped."

She then softened her voice. "Your ponygirl name is 'Spy', someone thought it appropriate, so you will always answer to that from now on. No more Cinthia. Understand?"

Cinthia just stood there, confused and uncertain how to answer, since she wasn't allowed to talk.

Beatriz, shook her head sadly. "You have so much to learn. Ponygirls stomp a hoof once for 'yes'."

She then stood there staring until Cinthia got the message and stomped her right hoof.

She was thinking, I am an animal, now. A pony named Spy. And she resumed crying at her plight.

With the tears in her eyes, when they arrived at the big wall-mirror she had trouble seeing herself clearly.