Jan V. Path: news.demon.co.uk!dispatch.news.demon.net!demon!arclight.uoregon.edu!usenet.eel.ufl.edu!news-peer.gsl.net!news.gsl.net!news.sprintlink.net!news-peer.sprintlink.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.inreach.com!usenet From: blades@inreach.com (The Bladesman) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: B&D Academy (B&D, nc): 01/09 Date: Fri, 13 Sep 1996 06:30:25 GMT Organization: Inreach's InterNetNews Site Lines: 600 Message-ID: <3238d254.3425013@news.inreach.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: ppp2021.inreach.com X-Newsreader: Forte Agent .99e/16.227
B & D ACADEMY
The breakfast ordeal was over... Finally. Mariko sat at the table
trying to "will" the corn flake off the end of her nose and wondered just
how she got herself into these things. She felt doubly responsible this
time because she had gotten not only herself, but her roommate, Courtney
Richmond, into this predicament. Mariko looked across the beautifully
appointed breakfast table at her friend who was sitting strapped to a
high-back leather covered chair identical to Mariko's with a dejected look
on her face and oatmeal in her hair. At 22, the blonde girl was two years
younger than Mariko and about two inches taller at 5'6". She was the type
of girl who seemed to turn men's heads everywhere she went, but she never
was never one to notice. They had struck up an immediate friendship and
decided to share an apartment soon after they had first met at the job
that was to get them into this mess.
Sitting smugly at the head of the table was their principal tormentor,
Allison Palmer, owner, president, chief-of-staff and head bitch of B&D
(Beauty and Definition) Cosmetics. She was a tall, strong, attractive (in
a hard sort of way) redhead with a short flip hair style. She sat with
one leg slung over her chair arm, sipping coffee and smirking at the two
helpless girls. She had a devious twinkle in her eye, a twinkle Mariko
had come to know all too well over the last two weeks (or was it three?).
Allison finished her coffee with one final gulp and then rang the little
bell that was next to her place setting. When they first arrived at the
estate, Mariko had expected a butler in a tuxedo or at least a French maid
to respond but instead, the double doors of the huge dining room opened up
and as they had in the past, in marched six oriental women, with three
coming around behind Mariko and the others taking a similar position
behind Courtney. Mariko couldn't decide just what nationality the women
were, although she had ruled out the possibility that they could be
Japanese like herself. They were all squat, rugged farm type girls,
probably from the mainland. They just did not fit in these lavish
surroundings. Not the Jet-Set type at all like Allison and her friends.
Or the sympathetic type either.
Both girls were becoming painfully used to this routine. They knew
that now was not the time to talk, even though it was one of the few times
during the day that they were physically able to, but Courtney seemed
determined to press her luck.
"And what's for dessert?" she asked Allison with her best sarcastic
smile that didn't begin to hide the contempt she obviously felt for
Allison. She barely got the statement out before one of the guards
grabbed a handful of Courtney's blond hair and yanked her head back, not
too hard, it was her one warning for the day (and it was only six a.m.).
"I was only asking!" Courtney blurted defensively, as the guard
twisted her hair a bit more.
Allison smiled sweetly and said, "Why, I'm having some melon for
dessert and it's certain to be delicious, but I think, for you two, some
red rubber ball will do!"
With that, she nodded to the guards who pounced on both girls, and
almost effortlessly stuffed ball gags into their mouths. Mariko couldn't
help but notice that Courtney's gag was pulled about twice as tight as her
own, not that she had any prayer of extricating the one in her mouth, but
any small favor was welcome under their circumstances. Sooner or later,
Courtney would figure that out and keep her mouth shut.
Allison sat back in her chair and began, "Y'know girls, I've been
thinking... ("Oh shit! Here we go again!" Mariko thought...) You two
have been with me all this time and we haven't even had a chance to tour
my stables. I'm really quite proud of them, so I thought that it would be
fun to have a nice ride and then a quiet little picnic today... If that's
okay with you," she said as she looked quizzically at her guests who could
do little more than stare back at her.
"If you don't want to go, just say so!" she blurted out before
slapping her knee, and laughing merrily at her own joke. (Nether Courtney
or Mariko could appreciate the humor in it!) "There then, its settled. The
girls here will get you cleaned up and help you get into some riding
clothes and I'll meet you in the stables at nine."
She then nodded again to the guards, who efficiently unbuckled all the
leather straps holding our heroines in their chairs, then pushed their
heads down on the table and pulled their hands up behind their backs to be
fastened there with plastic tie-wraps. The chair was pulled away suddenly
and Mariko was hustled up and towards the door, with one guard on each
elbow and the corn flake still plastered stubbornly on the end of her
nose. Courtney brought up the rear.
Allison's cheerful "Tah, tah" rang in their ears as they stumbled down
the halls to their rooms.
Both Mariko and Courtney had started work on the same day at B&D
Cosmetics although certainly with different motivations. Courtney joined
the firm as a student intern in the marketing group. Her plan was to slug
her way to the top of the business world and be in the 6 figure salary
range by the time she was 25. Mariko was starting as a marketing liaison
to the new Far East division. It was her charm and wit, along with a hell
of a snow job that had convinced them in the interview that she had grown
up in Japan. It didn't really matter that coming to New York was the
first time she had left Southern California in her life. Her full blooded
Japanese roots, The smooth lines of her face, the gentle slant to her
brown eyes and her waist length, jet black hair had done the major portion
of the selling.
This was actually her second job, but she didn't tell them that. Her
first had been with a rival cosmetics company based in California. Ivan
Rasovitz, the president of Rasovitz Industries, had recognized her unique
potential immediately and taken her under his wing as his personal
assistant. During one late night staff strategy meeting he revealed his
suspicion that B&D had been stealing his formulas for several years. He
hinted that what he needed was a contact on the inside at B&D who could
let him know what was going on, maybe even send him back some of the
stolen formulas so he could track down the spy in his company.
Mariko sat patiently in the "Dressing Chair," while a fashionably
dressed woman applied her make-up (B&D brand of course). The dressing
chair was an interesting affair made up entirely of adjustable, stainless
steel tubes giving it an ultra modern appearance. It's long legs were
securely anchored in the concrete floor of the dressing room making it the
only permanent highlight in an otherwise drab room. The chair was really
little more than a stool with arm rests as there was only a tiny,
uncomfortable seat made up of tubing that converged together to form a
small square with no back rest at all for a tired girl to lean against,
nor could she put her feet flat on the floor due to the telescoping legs
that had been adjusted before the guards had even placed her in the chair.
As it was she could barely strain enough to rub the end of her big toes on
the floor. The arms and legs were constructed so that they could be
twisted and turned this way and that at the operators convenience and with
the simple tightening of strategic wing bolts, they could be locked in
place holding the unfortunate "Dressee" rigidly in any possible pose. The
steel cuffs that held her in the chair only attached to her limbs at the
wrist and ankles and could be detached and reattached easily from the
chair without ever unlocking them from her wrists and ankles. The
unhooking of the cuffs could be accomplished easily by any operator who
was standing beside the chair but Mariko could not reach any of the
catches from her position seated in the chair. For obvious security
reasons, there was no point during the entire dressing procedure where
more than one of her limbs was ever released from the chair. In this way
she could be completely outfitted in anything from a cocktail dress to a
leather cat suit with little or no effort on the part of her hand maidens,
regardless of the amount of energy Mariko chose to expend resisting them.
The chair also had many interesting attachments like the one she was
enduring at that moment. While she was being made up, a sturdy head rest
arrangement was bolted to the back of the chair making her lean forward
and pushing her head forward slightly from the back of her neck. A large
tray with adjustable lights and all sorts of cosmetics was snapped in
place under her chin forcing her head up and back painfully against the
neck brace, ultimately holding her head perfectly still while the woman
plied her trade. Mariko knew well enough not to complain. On the first
day a mouth packed with cosmetic cotton puffs put an unpleasant end to any
protests the fashion dummy had to raise. Mariko always prided herself on
never making the same mistake twice. So she sat calmly, nude, obediently
making faces as the make-up woman ordered. Another taller woman stood
behind Mariko and carefully braided her hair into a long ponytail tied at
the bottom with a red ribbon. Soon, the two women finished their work and
stood in front of her commenting about what beautifully high cheekbones
Japanese women have. Mariko didn't know whether to thank them or kick
them, (if she ever got the chance!) so instead she just waited. She was
getting pretty used to waiting. Finally, after they were done with their
discussion on her chances of making it in the modeling industry, they
removed the tray and Mariko breathed a sigh or relief as she was able to
straighten up.
Mariko had never hesitated. She would have done anything (well,
ALMOST anything!) to help this charismatic man who had gotten her started
in the business world, Anyway, it seemed a pretty good way to make two
paychecks while really working only one job. Besides, all the cloak and
dagger stuff was kind of thrilling, in fact, she even made a point of
wearing a cape to work her first day at B&D as sort of a private joke. It
turned out to be even easier than she had ever imagined to get information
on the B&D formulas, she had access to all B&D's computers from the
terminal she shared with Courtney and all those computer courses in
college had really paid off. She had worked there only a month when she
got her first look at the new formulas that B&D was working on. After six
months, she was merrily funneling all the new formulas back west.
Coincidentally, Mariko had just dropped a package in the mail and returned
to the apartment that she and Courtney shared when this all began. She
noticed right off that there were some mail and some groceries lying in
the middle of the living room.
"That girl's such a slob sometimes," she thought as she picked up the
mess. She then went into her bedroom to change out of her work clothes.
Mariko opened her closet door and screamed as she looked directly into the
gagged face of Courtney Richmond. Her scream was short lived though, as a
large hand clamped over her mouth from behind.
The make-up women was busy arranging some clothes on a table behind
Mariko. All she could make out over her shoulder while one of the women
was showing the outfit to the other was a brown tweed blazer. She could
hear the make-up women commenting about how clever the design was and how
it should hold "This little one" quite nicely, but she couldn't twist
around enough to see. Mariko didn't like the looks (or rather sound) of
this so she decided it was time to take a chance and speak up.
"Excuse me, I don't want to interrupt your fun, but I think you should
know that I really look terrible in tweed," Mariko said. Both women
stopped their chatting and turned to Mariko.
"Did you say something, Dear?" the make-up woman asked pleasantly.
"Why yes!" Mariko said somewhat surprised to finally get some
recognition around this place. "I said that I think I look awful in tweed
jackets." The tall woman walked slowly around to face Mariko. She
pleasantly brushed a stray hair missed by the braiding out of her face and
then leaned forward until she was nose to nose with Mariko and hissed,
"Who cares what YOU think, Doll?"
Mariko couldn't mistake the innuendo as she sat naked in front of
these two women, about to be dressed just like a toy.
"Will we be needing any cotton today, Dear?" the make-up women asked
Mariko over her shoulder.
She simply shook her head. She was defeated for now. The dressing
could begin.
First came a crisp, white cotton shirt that was quickly slipped over
her unfastened hand which was immediately reconnected to the chair arm.
Then the unfastening process was repeated with the other arm and Mariko
had to shift her weight to accommodate the twisting of her arm behind her
to get it into the other sleeve. They then buttoned the shirt up the
front all except the top two buttons. Mariko was unpleasantly surprised
by the condition of the shirt, two oblong holes had been cut and hemmed
neatly in the front of the shirt were there could have been pockets. Out
of these strategically placed openings pointed her firm little breasts.
Whoever had laundered the shirt had obviously had a fetish for starch
because both the collar and cuffs were a consistency reminiscent only of
cardboard. The two women were busy carefully arranging the French cuffs
of the shirt and tittered pleasantly as they used tiny padlocks for cuff
links. ("A little bondage chic," thought Mariko.) Next came a yellow
wool, V-neck sweater-vest and they, after quite a tussle, slipped it over
Mariko's head.
"I'm sorry, this is not really traditional, its just in case its a
little chilly out there," Ma'am explained with subtle grins that made
Mariko even more uncomfortable than her new apparel. The sweater was a
little bit scratchy where it rubbed against Mariko's nipples but it was
bearable. Next came the blazer, Mariko calmly cooperated as they threaded
her arms into the stiff jacket. When her hands were re-secured to the
chair the tall women opened her blazer up and began fishing around in the
left armpit of the blazer, and Mariko, who was extremely ticklish, had to
fight hard to keep from squirming. Finally the woman produced a thin
piece of wire with a clasp on the end. This, she fed into the left arm
hole of the sweater, across Mariko's chest and then out the other arm
hole. She then fiddled in the opposite arm pit for a moment and yanked
the wire. Mariko then realized what was happening. Sewn into the
shoulders of the blazer was a horizontal "figure eight" of leather with
the cross of the "eight" in the center of her back. Her arms fit through
the holes in the "eight" before going into the blazer's sleeves. The wire
was attached at the top and bottom of the "eight" and once it was
connected Mariko would not be able to remove the jacket without first
undoing the wire. Had Mariko been able to peek behind herself, she would
have seen that there had been a triangular section about four inches wide
removed from the jacket at about her shoulder blade level. This triangle
was reinforced with leather around the edge of the opening and had a small
metal clip hanging loosely out of it. The tall woman continued to work,
diligently trying to connect the wire when, finally, there was a small
"click" as the two ends of the wire connected.
The two women soon set their attentions on Mariko's next piece of
apparel, this turned out to be a set of black leather riding gloves. Not
normal gloves as you may expect, Mariko had no doubt that they would be
unique. Once they were worked onto her hands she discovered that the skin
tight gloves had no thumbs, rather, the thumb was part of the side of the
glove. Although she could wiggle her fingers freely, her thumbs for all
practical purposes were gone! The two women used button hooks to close
the tops of the gloves around her wrist.
They produced a pair of steel handcuffs and locked one on Mariko's
right wrist. Then they unlocked her left wrist from the chair and twisted
it to meet the other hand where it was locked up in the loose handcuff.
They removed the chair's bracelets from her hands and replaced them on the
chair arms ready for the next dressing session. Mariko now sat with her
wrists securely handcuffed behind her back and her feet still locked to
the chair. When the tall women stepped quickly behind her and pulled her
hands up suddenly between her shoulder blades and clipped them to the hook
in the back of her jacket. Mariko found that any leverage she could have
hoped to have was gone.
The make-up woman glanced at her watch and said to the other woman.
"Its almost 7:30! We had better finish her up! Would you hand me her
tie?" The other woman grunted and handed her a strip of bright red cloth
and then took a firm grip on Mariko's ponytail.
"We're gonna make sure you're completely tied up, doll... Get it?
*TIED* up?"
The make-up lady then buttoned up the top two buttons of the shirt,
and slipped the necktie under the collar and around Mariko's neck. She
then carefully knotted the tie, it took her three tries to get it right,
and slid it up tight to Mariko's neck and tucked the necktie neatly into
her sweater. She fumbled around in her pockets for a moment and produced
a little gold collar bar which she clipped to both sides of her collar
under the necktie knot.
"What's that for?" asked the tall woman.
"Allison likes them, she calls them tie locks. She had me put one on
Sweetcakes when she took her riding a couple of weeks ago, Sweetcakes rode
all day, then spent the night hogtied in bed and her tie wasn't even
crooked in the morning," replied the make-up woman.
"Pardon me, but this doesn't fit right. It's awfully tight." Mariko
gulped, (or tried to, it wasn't easy because of the collar.) The make-up
woman tucked a bright red, lace hanky into Mariko's breast pocket and
pinned a carnation to her blazer lapel.
"Your comfort doesn't matter to us, my Dear," she said as she worked.
"The only thing that is important is that you look presentable while you
are with your mistress."
Using a small safety pin, she pinned the key to Mariko's handcuffs to
her necktie, just below the knot but hopelessly out of reach of Mariko's
wandering fingers.
"There, finished," said the make-up woman as she stepped back to
admire her handiwork. "You look so cute!" she squealed to Mariko as she
pinched her cheek and gave her tie one last primp. "Allison's just gonna
eat you up!"
"More likely it'll be the other way 'bout!" added the tall woman as
she turned towards the door with the other woman.
"Wait a minute, aren't you forgetting something?" asked Mariko.
"Oh really! Can't you be at all patient?" said the make-up woman
with an exasperated tone. "There'll be someone here presently who'll gag
you... Can't you wait until then?"
"No, no!" Mariko stammered, "Pants, you forgot my PANTS!"
"Oh, you obviously haven't seen them yet, have you?" said the tall
woman with a smile as she shut the door.
Shortly, the door opened and in marched the three guards. They walked
around her and began to fumble with the riding britches. Mariko tried to
turn to see them but she found that this was not a comfortable feat with
the tight, starched collar and tie. First, one girl took hold of Mariko's
ponytail and pulled back on it forcing her to lean back. The other two
pulled short nylon stockings on her feet then pushed her feet into the
legs of the britches. They had to remove the ankle cuffs one at a time to
yank the pants up to Mariko's knees. Even when the pants were at her
knees Mariko knew that they were going to be very tight, but soon her mind
was elsewhere. One of the girls came around where Mariko could see her
new riding boots. They were made of very shiny black patent leather with
heels that were about 5 inches high and no thicker at the bottom than a
pencil. The girl was examining the heel more closely and pointed out a
curious metal threading something like a screw starting about one inch
from the tip of the heal and continuing about another inch up the heel.
The three girls (or four if you count Mariko) examined the heels for a
moment, then shrugged it off and began trying to put the boots on poor
Mariko. Every stitch she wore until then had fit her like a glove but
these boots were a different story, they were much too small, at least one
size, maybe two. Mariko tried to explain this fact to the guards, loudly!
The guard holding her hair put a stop to that nonsense with a hand pressed
firmly over her mouth. The others pulled, tugged, crammed and finally
forced her feet into the boots. They pulled the little straps up and
around her calf and put small padlocks at the top so the boots couldn't be
removed without the key which was added to the handcuff key pinned to her
tie.
They stood Mariko up and then re-applied themselves to pulling up the
britches. When the pants were just below her crotch they stopped and one
of them went over to the table and returned with a small velvet box. When
she opened it, Mariko tried her best to bolt for the door and would have
made it except for the high heels and the fact that a guard still had a
firm grip on her hair. As it was she made it a grand total of about 1
inch. Mariko begged and pleaded with these girls but they paid no
attention to her. As the girl with the box removed three shiny steel ball
bearings and came towards Mariko with a slight hint of a smile on her
face, the other one bent down and grabbed her ankles and forced them as
far apart as the tight britches would allow. The first girl quickly and
efficiently inserted the Ben-Wa balls and then pressed the crotch of the
britches into place to insure that the balls wouldn't pop out. The other
two redoubled their efforts at pulling the pants into place. Mariko
suddenly realized that the crotch of the pants had been lined with rubber
and this, combined with the built in tightness of the pants, was forcing
the balls even deeper inside her. They zipped up the britches and Mariko
could already feel the rubber doing its best to warm things up. She
barely noticed the "click" of the lock insuring that she would be wearing
the riding britches for some time to come. A wire hobble of about 18
inches was added to small rings on the inside of the ankles of her boots.
The hobble was really unnecessary because there was no way Mariko could
possibly run in these boots, in fact she was surprised she could even
stand.
Lastly came the riding hat, a derby. Mariko had no delusions about
this at all. They plunked the black velvet hat down on her head and a
whole bunch of matching leather straps fell around her cheeks. The main
strap, which one of the girls was trying to apply to her mouth was
connected to a steel bit type of arrangement which popped easily into her
startled mouth when she gasped as one of the girls attempted to rearrange
her Ben-Wa balls from the outside. The steel bit passed between her teeth
and drew her lips back at the corners as the straps were tightened
securely at the back of her neck under her ponytail. In the center of the
bit was a hard rubber pad that extended forward under the bit, right up to
the back of her lower teeth. Right behind the bit the rubber was softer
and curled upwards squishing itself against the roof of her mouth. As it
worked out the gag was inserted perfectly the first time, the lower pad
crushed her tongue against the floor of her mouth and the upper rubber had
plenty of room to expand should she try to open her mouth any further.
Mariko was limited in that regard because of the tightness of the bit in
her mouth where it pulled her cheeks back cruelly. Mariko heard the small
click of the lock at the back of her neck and the key to her gag was added
to the growing collection dangling from her necktie and our little
equestrienne was ready to canter.
Mariko was shoved roughly out the door and into the hall. The guards
were content to let her stumble along at her own awkward pace down the
corridor. Suddenly a door to her right flew open and Mariko found herself
face to face with Courtney. Her heart sank as she looked at her friend
who was done up in exactly the same fashion as Mariko except her color was
blue, Navy for the blazer, light blue for the sweater and her tie was blue
plaid complete with the keys pinned neatly in place. The two prisoners
didn't even have time to exchange sympathetic glances as they were marched
awkwardly down the hall. The only sound that followed them was the high
pitched click of their heels on the concrete floor and the merry jingle of
the dangling keys. They were then bundled into an elevator and taken up
to the main level of the estate and after another seemingly endless
stroll, they were taken to a door that led outside, the first time they
had been outside since they had been brought here. Given a choice, Mariko
would have hoped that their exit would have been a little more dignified.
They walked down a long stone walkway to where they saw the make-up
woman standing on the edge of the white stone driveway. When they
arrived, the make-up lady made them stand for an inspection, adjusting
here and primping there. They then were forced to march back and forth so
she could "Get a good look at you" and apparently satisfied, she dismissed
the guards who returned to the house. Mariko looked around herself in
disbelief as various maintenance people busied themselves around the
grounds. They paid no more attention to the two bound and gagged girls
than they would to a couple of secretaries out on their lunch hour. Mariko
wondered if this sight could be more commonplace around here than she ever
imagined. She shuddered at the possibilities. Presently, a golf cart
came bouncing up the dirt road and came to a stop in front of the three
women. A large man in filthy coveralls smelling distinctly of manure
stepped out of the cart and asked the make-up woman,
"Are Deez Dem?"
"No," Mariko thought, "It's two of the other sixteen girls standing
around in ridiculous looking riding outfits wearing handcuffs and gags."
The make-up woman assured the man that they were indeed the girls he
was looking for and then stepped back. He guided Mariko and Courtney to
the back of the golf cart then carefully seated them there, facing the
rear. Mariko was so relieved to be off her already sore feet that she
barely noticed as he fiddled with their hobbles and yanked on one end
causing a slip knot device on the wire to tighten, pulling the girl's
ankles snugly together. The make-up lady bent down where the girls could
easily see her and said,
"You two have a nice day and I'll see you this evening... Bye-bye!"
She turned and then without looking back, walked into the house. The
man spent a moment or two talking about the weather with the gardener who
was trimming a nearby hedge, then, whistling a little off key tune, he
jumped into the drivers seat and turned the cart around and headed off
towards the distant stables with two very nervous, very uncomfortable,
passengers aboard.
The ride seemed longer than it really was for the girls as they were
roughly bounced about by the bumpy dirt road they were being shuttled
down. Soon they were passing huge exercise pens bordered with white stock
yard fences surrounding bright green manicured lawns. Most of the pens
were occupied by varying numbers of beautiful horses prancing about, some
being attended by grooms, others free to run about. Mariko couldn't help
but notice how idyllic it all appeared, and what a distinct contrast it
was to their present situation.
Mariko squirmed in her bonds for a moment...testing...hoping the man
driving wouldn't notice (he didn't). But it didn't matter, she wasn't
going to get loose now, not a chance. She only prayed that someone would
make a mistake and give her an opening for escape. Just a crack, that was
all she would need! She could crawl miles to escape, run through streams
to throw off the scent of the dogs that were sure to be sent after her.
Duck the searchlights! (Hey! This is getting pretty darn exciting!) Then
she could climb that last fence and make it to freedom! The golf cart
came to a sudden stop and Mariko's momentum made her bump against the back
of the seat, causing her handcuffs to click a notch tighter.
"Shit, so much for fantasy. Back to reality..." she thought.
There was certainly more interest here than back at the house. Several
trainers walked by slowly, really taking in our heroines predicament.
"Hey babe, Goin' Riiiidin'?!" one called out teasingly as he walked
by.
Mariko tried to meet their stares, but almost immediately she found
herself staring at the ground behind the cart trying to make herself as
small as possible. The driver was writing something on a pad in the cart
and when he was finished he walked to the back of the cart and easily
hoisted Mariko over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. With one hand
on her rump for balance, he walked towards the nearby barn. As he neared
the door he stopped a man who was passing by.
"Yo Karl! Ya got a butt?!"
"Waddya talkin' about? You already have one right there!" replied
Karl, motioning to all he could see of Mariko.
The big man fumbled in his pockets for a moment.
"No I don't, I haven't got any smokes," replied Mariko's chauffeur.
"I don't believe this!" Mariko couldn't help say out loud... All
that came out was "Eh Dt Bleh Tds!" though, and nobody paid any
attention.
"Here take one of mine Lou," Karl said as he lit the cigarette for
Lou.
"Palmer's going riding today, huh Lou? Can I have a look?"
"Sure..." Lou replied as he turned around and Mariko found herself
staring right into the face of Karl, another stable hand.
"Man, what a waste. This ones a ten too, just like the others!"
This was definitely the most bizarre compliment Mariko ever had, and
hopefully ever would, receive.
"You have a good time now, Ya'ear" Karl said as he walked away.
Mariko just wished people would stop telling her to have fun in this
screwed up place.
Lou carried her into the barn and walked over to a horse stall in the
corner. There he bent over and placed her on her feet in the straw in the
middle of the stall. He squatted down and loosened Mariko's hobble out to
about six inches, enough for her to shuffle about in the stall and that
was about it. He stepped out of the stall and closed the gate, then
turned to Mariko and said,
"I suggest dat ya don't try ta sit down, caus' ya might get dirty.
Unda stand?"
"Yes, I understand!" Mariko tried to reply, but all she said was "Yth
Eh Nudthd!".
"What?"
"Ydth! NI! Nudthsss!" (She drooled a little).
"What?"
"FHth YYn Athhl!" (She drooled a lot).
"Sorry Honey, can't understand what ya is saying." With that, he
turned around and walked out to get Courtney. Mariko shuffled over to the
gate and looked longingly at the latch. It was outside, she was inside...
No way.
"Shthh!"
Almost immediately Lou returned with Courtney under his arm and
deposited her in next to Mariko. Then he closed the gate and left.
Escape, although it certainly entered both girls minds was out of the
question. They stood as close as they could to each other trying to
embrace the only comfort they had in this crazy world. The comfort would
not last very long.
Lou returned carrying two small English saddles and blankets and
dropped them in front of the stall. Then he called out to another man who
was walking by the doors.
"Hey, Joe! Do me a favor an get Thunder an' Cyclone for me will ya!"
Thunder!!! Cyclone!!! Mariko and Courtney looked at each other in
terror! Lou didn't seem to notice though, as he brought out a large crate
and put it on the floor in front of the gate. Then he sat down on it and
fiddled with one of the saddles. Joe appeared suddenly pulling two
gigantic horses, one black, the other brown. He tied the brown one to a
post and led the black one over to the crate and helped Lou saddle it. The
horse snorted but didn't resist much. Mariko just couldn't get over how
big it was! Joe held the reins as Lou walked into the stall. Courtney
panicked and bolted as Lou approached her, shuffling as fast as she could
for the corner of the stall. Unfortunately, her mincing steps of six
inches was no match for Lou's stride. He simply took hold of the back of
her pants and spun her around and steered her towards the gate. Mariko
backed away into the other corner. Lou picked Courtney up and stood her
on the crate next to the horse and removed the hobble connecting her
ankles. Then, with one motion, he stepped up on the crate, grabbed
Courtney by the back of the jacket and the seat of the pants and deposited
her in the saddle.
"Hey, there little lady," Joe drawled, "Cyclone's a real good horse,
why he ain't thrown nobody for a couple of weeks now!"
Courtney was whimpering audibly. Joe continued,
"Just don't show him you're afraid, an' whatever you do, don't make
any sudden movements to spook him!"
Courtney's body went absolutely ridged, not so much as a deep breath
passed her lips as the men finished up their work. They put her feet into
the stirrups and then Mariko saw what those curious screw things on their
heels were for. Lou carefully guided Courtney's heel into a hole on the
stirrup and pushed it down until the screw threads came out the bottom. He
produced a wing nut from his pocket and tightened the nut on the threads,
thus preventing Courtney from pulling her foot out of the stirrup. He
walked casually to the other side of the horse an repeated the procedure.
Joe took the reins and led Cyclone to the side and tied the horse to
another post. Courtney still hadn't moved a muscle. While Joe was
getting Thunder into position beside the crate, Lou turned to Mariko and
said,
"Don't keep us waitin', sweetie."
It didn't take a kick in the head for Mariko to realize the futility
of resistance. She put her head down to watch where she was going and
shuffled forward. By the time she arrived at the crate Thunder was
saddled and waiting. The closer and closer she got to her mount the more
and more amazed she got at just how big horses really get and just how
much she didn't want to see how big it was from the horse's back. Lou
settled any doubts she might have had by grabbing her and swiftly
depositing her in the saddle. Momentarily, her feet were secured in the
stirrups and Joe cautioned,
"Remember. No sudden movements."
The warning was unnecessary as Mariko had been following Courtney's
lead from the moment she hit the saddle.
"Remember girls, don't spook them!" Joe said as he walked away
chuckling.
Lou took both sets of reins and led the reluctant equestriennes out of
the barn.
The sound of hoof beats thundered up from behind the girls. Neither
dared turn to look but their eyes flashed back and forth desperately
trying for a glimpse of anything.
"Yo Ho, you two! I see you're right on time!" Allison called from
behind. Both girls stared straight ahead.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Allison loved bad puns...
She slowly coaxed her mount around where her new playmates could see her.
Allison was dressed in a old red flannel shirt with a white thermal
t-shirt under it, jeans, cowboy boots and a beat-up ten-gallon hat. She
slowly rode her horse around the girls, checking them out and teasing them
a little.
"I've got the lunch, the wine, plenty of rope. I can't think of
anything else we could need for our picnic. Can you?"
She reached back into her saddle bag and removed an expensive looking
camera and took a dozen or so photos of the girls from various angles.
"For my album." Allison explained.
On the third time around she noticed that the only time her little
pets were looking at her was when she was directly in front of them. She
suddenly stopped short in front of the two girls who sat rigidly in their
saddles. Allison leaned forward and examined her captives faces closely.
"They told you the horses names, didn't they?" Both girls nodded ever
so slightly. A smile broke across her face and she burst into laughter.
Both horses were startled and both riders screamed into their gags but
neither horse moved. Allison slowly began to regain control of herself.
"Their names are a joke you dummies! These are two big marshmallows!
They wouldn't hurt a fly! They've done this same thing hundreds of times.
You can scream and struggle or anything you want and they wont move,
they're completely trained!"
It took a moment, but then both girls realized that their captor was
really telling the truth. They both slumped in the saddles.
"Look at me!" Allison ordered and both visibly relieved girls
complied.
"There are about a million and one things I am going to do to you two.
And I plan on doing each and every one to you at my leisure..." Alison
then ceremoniously leaned over, and flicked the button holding Mariko's
blazer closed. The jacket then fell open framing her sweatered breasts
rather than supporting them. The wire under her sweater insured that the
jacket was staying on. She winked at Mariko then and then repeated the
drill on Courtney.
"I don't want to *TERRIFY* you...just terrorize you! And just
remember, I won't need to hurt you to accomplish that." With that,
Allison reached down and untied the reins from the post and tied them to
her pommel.
"Ready for some fun in the sun girls? What do ya say to a gallop?"
Allison shouted as she spun her horse about and headed for the trail with
Mariko and Courtney about to begin the ride of their lives.
End of Part 1
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