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128 finds herself in awe whenever in the presence of Nusquam member Miss Penny Osborne. Bald, banded, branded and tattooed 128 feels lowly in her nakedness, peering at the tall, handsome blonde as she blithely strolls the aisle of the stables. Short hair athletically combed, riding attire neatly pressed, sjambok at the ready, she casually tosses a biscuit to one of the many Mastiffs, smiling in receiving a respectful ‘woof’ in response.
In nearing the stall of her steed... 88... she smiles anew in seeing the steel encased penis standing obeisantly, the huge testicles ringed and strapped low to the thigh bands.
128 holds the reins, knowing after so much time in harness 88 senses comfort in being tightly controlled. The lengths of leather slip through the ends of the snaffle bit, right and left and terminate at the deeply set nose ring. Thus the slightest jostle brings intense anguish to both tongue and nose, the myriad of nerve endings sending a message demanding compliance... instant and thorough.
And so 88 docilely stands in wait. Silenced by the cruel bit, there are no vindictive words to be offered she who has mastered him... the notorious stock trader Balls Martindale.
“Oh you are a handsome steed, 88,” Miss Penny playfully coos, knowing that, within the psyche, the vanquished male seethes, his loathing smoldering. “And standing so nicely. Have you figged him?”
“No Miss Penny. I thought it best to wait.”
“Very considerate. I do so much enjoy the initial reaction. I’m told the ginger juice is felt as one would feel a lit match,” the words coming as Miss Penny takes the offered reins.
128 knows to go to the tray where a carefully carved plug of ginger awaits. Though the juice has the effect of a searing hot iron when applied to sensitive pink flesh, it’s actually harmless. And the body never builds resistance to it... no scar tissue or other desensitizing. Thus the flesh can be subjected to the searing juice time after time with equivalent response.
Right hand grasping the plug, the fingers of the left splay the buttocks. Gliding the plug up and down to moisten the crevice, 128 assesses then slides the plug past the sphincter, the purse string muscle seeming to swallow hungrily.
Miss Penny smiles, in noting the initial reaction... a grimace... a snort of air... the cheeks clinching in distress. And she also knows to grip the reins with force, 88’s need to move about, to futilely somehow quench the fire, intractable.
“Yes, you’re eager to run for me, aren’t you 88? And you’re going to sense my control with every step, your testicle cords nice and tight, tugging at those nice big balls... ha, ha, ha.”
Cruelly, Miss Penny waits, letting the pain pervade.
“Perhaps you’d like to come with me 128. We’ll take a chariot. And the extra burden will offer 88 a nice long workout. It’s sunny and will soon be stifling hot. If you have not before seen a steed worked into a lather, air rushing past bit and bridle, lurching under the strokes of the sjambok, I think you’ll be greatly entertained.”
Chapter Twent- Eight
To the paddock area, 128 notes it is indeed a hot and sunny morning as she attaches the prongs of a weighty chariot to the thick waist belt of steed 88.
Nearby she spies the amazingly athletic physique of 127... the rippling abdominal muscles, furled buttocks, thighs of black iron. She is tethered to a light pony cart, a male member standing nearby, sjambok at the ready, enthused with his power... the prospect of putting the former track star through a brisk and challenging workout.
“Water him well,” the command returning her attention. “And a little more fluffing won’t hurt,” Miss Penny’s directives to bring further delay, knowing her human canine is most eager to run for her.
128 obediently squeezes a plastic water bottle, the contents known to be the salted water which brings constant thirst. In doing so, she draws 88’s face and head to her massive breasts then lowers her free hand to once again diddle the tiny but oh so significant patch of penile skin not covered in steel. 88 stirs... as does his penis, Miss Penny insisting that her steed show respect with a full hard on.
“Plug his ears. I want him in silence this morning, concentrating on reacting to the reins.”
128 slips the offered plugs into the ear holes then steps to the chariot, oddly finding herself eager for a jaunt through the verdant jungles of the Nusquam compound. It feels good, not being bound and plugged as she is through the long nights. And though the sjambok menaces it is not she threatened.
The left hand tugs at the reins. 88 knows to turn. The right arm rises and delivers a notably crisp stroke of the sjambok to the right buttock. The chariot lurches and rolls... with gusto. The figging indeed makes a steed eager to be run, 128 tells herself. It is only in exuding sweat that the juices can be countered. And somehow the steeds learn that swiftly.
Thus swings of the sjambok are spared. Is 128 disappointed? She asks herself.
“He tugs at his balls with every step. Ironic, is it not 128, forcing the male to not only torment himself but alter as well. He’ll not only have massive balls but they’ll soon be hanging past his knees... ha, ha, ha.”
The chariot is brought to a steady pace. Rivulets of sweat roll, Miss Penny entertains herself with modest but correcting strokes of the sjambok, reveling in her power and control.
“I imagine you feel a degree of sympathy, but actually this protocol is best for males like Balls Martindale... 88. As stated, the self destruct element of his psyche and the status somehow achieved on Wall Street made him dangerous... to himself... to his wife... to the firm and its investors... potentially the entire market. No one resisted my plans when I set him up. And I take care of his wife. So he’s not missed.”
So it is true. Miss Penny Osborne... lesbian... bisexual?128 feels emboldened, having heard much of 88’s downfall while being tacked.
“It’s very gracious of you to do that, Miss Penny,” 128 prompts.
“Ha, ha, ha. She’s a randy slut... if Balls only knew. Yes, when in New York she spends weekends at my coop. Naked and in chains, I’ll take her anally with my Feeldoe. Then sometime Sunday night, masturbate her with a vibrator... maybe have her come for me... maybe not... then send her home with a little cash. She needs the money and appreciates the stay... somewhat. Living in a tiny rundown apartment in a seedy area of the Bronx is a little traumatic for her after Balls here lost the mansion.”
“He told me you set him up,” 128 brazenly offers.
“I did indeed. He doesn’t know the full story. That I conspired with all the competing traders he’d screwed over the years... screwed along with their wives. Being impulsive and impertinent, I knew he’d fail to follow up on the misinformation I gave him. No, he jumped in and sold and sold and sold. More shares then he could ever borrow... the dumb bastard. Meanwhile, to protect the firm... protect my job... I conversely purchased options... the right to buy the very same stock at a built in price. He was the one who gave me a small book to run... a mere million or two... and I used the funds judiciously... more than covering his exposure.
