Part 4 of The Pumped Pony
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Part 4 of The Pumped Pony
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Chapter 4
Master looked at the mess I had made on the floor, on my
twitching cock and smiled to himself. Seeing this cruel man that had
fuelled my fantasies so I decided to disobey his command that I stop
behaving human in the slightest way. The words came out garbled, but
clear enough: "Master, please Master. I love you Master. Abuse me,
torture me, and turn me into your plaything. I am yours." Master smiled
briefly and patted my head. Then he said: "You are a pony now Mark. I
will do all of those things to you and more. I promise you I'll make you
scream in pain and turn you into my complete plaything. I promise to
make your life harsher and more demanding than you can ever imagine and
to control every second of your life, but now it is time to give up your
humanity, Mark. You are a pony, my pony and you will behave as such."
With that he put a cattle prod to my scrotum and shocked my balls. The
pain was so bad that I couldn't even scream. My face contorted in a
silent scream and I collapsed to the floor, trying to make my muscles
obey so that I could at least writhe in pain.
Master took advantage of the situation and dropped to his knees in front of me and removed my bit. Then he took out his beautiful cock and fucked my face. Holding my head with both hands he fucked my face long and hard, making me deep-throat him on every stroke. Several times he held my face pressed against his crotch, his cock all the way down my throat, until all I had left was weak twitching and black dots appeared before my eyes as I was certain that I was going to die choking on his cock. This was what I had fantasized about and in spite of the excruciating pain from my balls I felt my cock stirring. When he had shot his load down my throat, he pulled his cock out, reinserted my bit and stood up. Then he got a riding crop and began whipping my body furiously shouting: "Get up you useless pony shit!" I was still reeling from the shock to my balls and from my own feelings of extreme submission from the face fucking and I had never in my life before tried getting up without the use of my hands and arms. The process was made even more difficult because of my new footwear, forcing me to balance on my toes on the tiny platforms now welded to them. Getting up was very hard and I fell several times, but this did nothing to stop Master. He whipped me constantly while I tried to get up, shouting at me what a useless pony-shit I was and how I had better get up right now or things would get a lot worse. Whenever I landed on my back he would whip my cock and my balls. He also used the cattle prod several times on my legs, my ass, my chest and my genitals causing the most excruciating pain. Soon I was crying, sobbing hysterically and several times I almost lost consciousness form the beatings, but in the end I managed to stand up. My entire body from my calves to my neck and including my head had been hit and angry, red welts were forming all over my body. I stood sobbing with pain and fear, on the verge of hyperventilating and my genitals were starting to swell from the beating. I had never been in more pain and I had never, ever been so afraid. I was so afraid of Master as I stood there that when he stepped close to inspect me, I soiled myself. I stood paralyzed with fear and as he touched me softly, I involuntarily let my bladder go and a revolting smell filled the trailer as my waste ran down my legs. I was terrified of him. I had never been abused so brutally, never felt more intensely controlled and I had never been so afraid in my life. Without even thinking about it I whinnied with fear as his hand traveled down my backside, taking me, possessing me. I loved it. In spite of the fact that my balls had swelled to more than twice their original size and my cock was bruised and battered, I felt it stir and get hard. One part of me wanted to disobey him again just to receive more punishment, but my fear focused my mind on an overwhelming need to obey this brutal man. Before leading me out of the trailer Master grasped my balls, lightly at first and then with ever-increasing pressure, and said: "It'll get worse. Plenty worse." Again I involuntarily whinnied with fear as Master grabbed my reins and led me out. As Master led me across a courtyard covered with hard packed dirt and into a stable, I again thought about how low I had sunk. Here I was being led into a stable, high stepping like a show pony, covered with welts from the beating I had just received and with my own shit running down the inside of my legs. And I had a hard-on again. The humiliation was intense. Inside the barn I was led to a corner covered with tile, apparently some sort of bathroom. Here he removed my collar, bit, head harness and blinkers until I stood wearing only my pony boots, which only rarely came off. Then he went to work. First he gave me series of very painful and very humiliating enemas. Filling my bowels up until I thought I would burst, Master made me hold them for a very long time before letting them go in an explosion of foul smelling watery shit. Master had donned a rubber apron and rubber gloves before administering the enemas and now washed me thoroughly using a powerful, cold-water hose and a very stiff brush. The brush was none too gentle on the welts I had received from the whipping and soon I was crying again, but of course Master didn't care. After a long, cold bath I stood shivering as Master toweled me dry. Soon I stood at attention, legs together, stooping forward. All resistance had been beaten out of me, yet I reveled in the situation and loved the control. Some part of me still wanted to rebel, just to be punished again. I did not, however, rebel as Master grabbed my cock and led me to another part of the stable, into a small enclosure with a hay-covered floor. There were two whole rows of enclosures and I realized that Master planned to have many ponies. Only the one he led me to had a nametag on the bars surrounding it. The tag read: "Mark. Show pony." In the middle of the floor inside the enclosure a pole rose out of the floor and at the end of it was a giant dildo, a truly monstrous thing covered with knobs and ridges. There was no doubt in my mind as to where it would go and I whinnied with fright and excitement. Already Master's control over me was so great that instinctively whinnied whenever I felt the need to express something. It was as if the furious punishment had beaten the desire to speak out of me. The head of the monster dildo was lower than my crotch and Master now positioned me with a foot on either side, the dildo directly under my asshole. At his command I placed my feet so that my ankles touched the pole. A steel band was then used to secure my feet to the pole. Once this was accomplished the top of the pole began moving upwards until the dildo pressed against my asshole. For a second I resisted it as tried getting in, but it was futile and soon I was groaning, then screaming as the monster made it's way up inside me. I stood gasping for air as the giant dildo filled me completely, desperate to escape and knowing that it wouldn't happen. As I stood gasping for air Master came carrying another very large dildo. This one had a hole in the head and before I knew what was happening Master had stepped up on a stool and was busy pushing it down my throat. Again I instinctively tried resisting and again it did me no good. I gagged and retched but after a short fight the dildo filled not only my mouth but my throat as well. The hole in the center of the dildo allowed me to breathe but in my state of near panic it was a while before I realized this and in the meantime I spasmed trying to get rid of it. Even after I found out how to breathe it was most unpleasant and I constantly had to fight my gagging reflex. The dildo was so long and so stiff that it forced my head back and I now stood staring at an angle because I wasn't able to stand straight. But of course Master wasn't finished yet. First he began pulling a very large and very thick rubber bag down over me. He pulled it down over my head until the upper part of it formed a hood that held my head very tightly, cutting off my vision and muffling all sounds. In the hood section there was only an opening for my mouth and nothing else. Then he pulled it down over the rest of my body and I quickly learned that the rubber had been made to measure. It clung tightly to every curve, squeezing me in a way that was restrictive yet sensuous. The rubber bag went all the way down to my feet, where Master unnecessarily tied if off with a wide strap. There was only one other opening in the bag apart from the one at my feet and the one at my mouth and that was at my crotch. This opening was quite small as I found out when Master reached in and pulled my genitals out through the opening, which squeezed the root of my cock quite tightly. Because I couldn't straighten my back and stood stooping slightly forward, Master "helped" me keep my balance by tying a sturdy strap around my upper body and securing two chains hanging down from the ceiling to it. That way some of my weight was carried by the chains and not transferred to the dildo in my ass. As a final touch Master used a strap to secure the dildo in my mouth. I now stood swaying in dizzy darkness, held upright by a monster dildo firmly lodged in my ass, filling me so completely that I felt like I had trouble breathing properly. Of course the dildo in my throat did nothing to alleviate this. Then Master started to strike the head of my cock with his riding crop. Slowly and not too hard at first, but as my cock betrayed my arousal, the intensity of his beating increased. When my cock was at full mast the blows came hard and fast, causing me both great pain and great pleasure. Because of the dildo in my throat I was unable to produce any sound at all and so there was I couldn't even scream. As the pain, humiliation and feeling of absolute helplessness increased so did my arousal until I finally came, thrashing just as much as my hopeless situation would allow me. Then he left me. I didn't hear him leave, but after a while I realized that I would be forced to sleep like this; wrapped in tight rubber with dildos filling both ends up completely, constantly fighting the gagging reflex, my whole body a mass of pain and enjoying the afterglow of yet another gloriously painful orgasm. I loved it and a deep feeling of gratitude filled me. All it had taken to turn me into a completely devoted, pain-loving slut was a few days of harsh training and some surgery. Using only this Master had made me his and I loved him for. I am not sure that I actually slept in that extremely uncomfortable position, a position I have slept in every night used since then, except when I'm being used, but I am sure that I dreamt. The whole night was filled with extremely vivid dreams of Master punishing and fucking me mercilessly. I was roused from my dreaming state by a furious whipping. Master's crop landed all over my body as he whipped the new day in for me. Afterwards he removed my rubber sleeping bag and the two impaling dildos. As they were removed I sighed both relief and loss. Being impaled at both ends was uncomfortable as well as an enormous turn-on and in spite of the fact that I was hungry, thirsty and exhausted from standing in that strained position all night, I still got rock hard as Master grasped my cock and led me out of the enclosure. The enclosure has been my "home" ever since and I have since learned to sleep standing just like that, since I am not allowed to sleep in any other way. Master has decreed that since real horses don't lie down, neither should his ponies and so all Master's ponies spend their entire life standing, unless of course someone throws one of us to the ground to punish or fuck or in all likelihood both. The punishment from the day before was fresh in my mind, even if I was very tired and I remembered to high step and to behave as pony-like as possible as Master led me to the bathroom-like area of the barn. Here he started by feeding me. This was done by forcing a large, clear plastic tube into my mouth and informing me that I had better swallow it all. Through the tube came a thick liquid that looked and tasted like semen mixed with oats or something. Until I was able to produce most of my own food this was the only sustenance I received. I had to swallow very large amounts of this artificial semen before being given something to drink. The drink was a yellow liquid that looked and tasted just like piss and I am very rarely given anything else to drink. To remove any bad breath that my disgusting diet might cause I was then ordered to rinse my mouth in a very strong and very vile liquid that tasted of industrial strength mint. After being fed it was time for me to go get rid of my waste. Since becoming Master's pony this is done only by enema, never independently and Master requires that I receive at least ten of them before I am deemed clean enough inside. I both love and hate enemas. Being filled up to the bursting point with warm water fills me with desperation as I hold it in for the period of time Master requires. There is no escape, no reprieve as my whole being is absorbed by the unpleasant fullness and it always makes me whinny and cry as my eyes roll around in their sockets and I begin to sweat. At first I groaned as I was filled up but this most unpony-like behavior was rapidly whipped out of me. At the same time I love it. The helplessness in the situation, the fact that even your bowel movement is beyond your control turns me on. When I had expelled the last of the enemas and stood panting with exertion, Master bathed me or rather blasted me with a cold-water jet. Then he dried me none too gently, braided my mane and fitted me with my collar, bit, head-harness and blinkers before fitting me with my new tail and finally leading me out of the stable my reins. The tail looked just like a regular horse's tail but it was mounted on a brutal butt-plug. The plug was just as wide as the dildo that had been lodged in my ass during the night, but not as long. Once Master had pushed it all the way in, he turned a knob and the plug became somehow much wider, robbing me of the possibility of pushing it out. I high stepped as best I could, but when we reached the fenced in area that had been our destination, Master announced that I would now be taught how to walk properly. He certainly wasn't lying. The day passed in a hailstorm of blows from the crop and shocks from the cattle prod as he instructed me in proper walking for a pony: First I was to raise my leg until my thigh was parallel to the ground. Then I should extend my lower leg and finally I should set my foot, in it's brutal pony boot, carefully down. It sounded simple enough, but not only was Master a perfectionist, accepting nothing but absolute perfection in every move, he also insisted that I move like this always. It didn't matter if I trotted, ran or just had to move two inches forward; my legs always had to move in the prescribed manner. At the same time I was to keep my upper body completely still and my eyes looking straight ahead and not down. I was helped by the surgery I that had been performed on my back and neck, but it was still very difficult and my new enormous butt-plug didn't help matters The training session lasted until the sun went down and was only interrupted when Master stopped to fuck my ass, which happened several times during the day, and when he stopped me to give me some of the synthetic urine to drink. He didn't touch my cock one single time and when he led me back to the stable in a state of exhaustion, covered in welts, my cock was at full mast, hard and throbbing with need. Back at the stable I was fed in same way I had been fed in the morning and then Master impaled me at both ends and sealed me inside my rubber cocoon just like the day before. I was trying to whine with desperation at not being allowed to cum, but failing because of the intruder in my throat when Master began whipping my cock head. As his whipping picked up in intensity and the pain and my excitement mounted, I almost cried with gratitude. My orgasm was not long coming and I soon spurted a large portion of cum onto the floor. Then Master left me for the night; left me to my increasingly vivid fantasies. I was increasingly thinking of myself as a pony-slave and even in my dreams I tried desperately to please Master. The following day the routine was the same. The day started with a whipping, followed by a breakfast of synthetic semen and urine, an excruciating series of enemas and a cold bath. Then it was outside to train walking, trotting and running. When the sun went down I was fed and sealed inside my rubber cocoon and given an orgasm by way of Master's whip. Every time I made even the slightest movement or sound that Master deemed to be not pony-like, I was punished furiously. After only a few days most of my human behavior had been punished out me and my style of walking was almost perfect. I had also shed most of my old thought pattern. Before becoming Master pony I had thought ahead: what would happen next? What should I do now? That sort of thing. Now my thoughts were only about obedience, about pleasing Master right now without thought for the consequences. My conditioning was nearly complete in just a week's time. But "almost" wasn't good enough for Master. It had to be perfect and so the mind-numbing routine, the harsh and unrelenting training and the fierce punishments continued for several months without pause. After about three weeks I lost track of time and became completely immersed in the flow of brutal training, but I would guess that it was more than four months of exactly the same routine before Master changed it even the slightest bit. By that time my transformation was complete. I existed only to please Master and every second of my life was dedicated to that purpose. I doubt that I would even have been able to walk like a human if asked to and I was now "Mark the pony" and not just "Mark the slave". At night I dreamed of brutal punishment and fierce fuckings and all my thought were filled with intense love for and devotion to Master.
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