The Ponygirl Wish
by I. Binder

Part 2

Part 2: Training

Amber slept late the next morning. When she awoke she looked over and saw the dildo the woman had inserted in her. It was sitting on the night stand where Amber had put it when she undressed last night. She picked it up and examined it. It was much larger than her vibrator. No wonder she had felt so stuffed. It had what looked like a connector on the bottom; it could be mated into a charger or some other device. Amber knew it could vibrate, but she could see no way to activate it, it must use a remote. Amber wondered if she should remind the woman that she still had it.

That drew her attention to the card with the email address. Amber turned it over in her hand. There was nothing on it but the email address. “If you want more.” Amber let the words roll in her mind. Did she want more? That had been the adventure of her life. She had loved that place. But it was not just the club. Before the woman took charge of her she had felt out of place. After the woman left her she had felt lonely. The time in between had been extraordinary. She wanted more of that. She wanted more orgasms like the one she had on stage. Amber smiled. She had been taken to orgasm in front of a crowd of people. Amber would never do anything like that, but pony Amber had no choice. She wanted to be pony Amber again.

Amber opened a new email. She typed in the address. For the subject she wrote: “I want more.” Then she froze. She got up and walked away from her computer. She fixed herself a drink. What was she afraid of? It had been a most amazing evening. She had let herself be placed under the control of a complete stranger. That could have been a bad mistake, but it had worked out ok. It had worked out more than ok. It had been wonderful. And, at the end of the evening the woman had let her go. Nothing bad had happened. It had been the substance of Amber’s dreams. She pushed the send button.

Amber checked her email every ten minutes for the next two hours. When she had just about given up there was the ding of an incoming email. It was a response. All it said was “Open Me”. There was a file attached. Amber clicked on the file. Her computer said something about authorizing the file to open. Amber clicked yes.

A video started. Amber saw the pony from the night before standing at attention before the screen. “A good pony is completely obedient.” The voice of the woman said. “Are you a good pony?” A box popped up on the screen – yes or no. Amber clicked yes.

“A good pony needs to learn to walk properly in pony boots. Do you want pony boots?” The pony was now walking lifting her legs high with each step. The boots were amazing. The box appeared. Amber clicked YES. She did want pony boots. She wanted them very much.

“A good pony practices diligently. Will you practice every day?” The pony was still walking around. Amber hit YES. She would, she really would.

“Your boots will arrive within 48 hours. Send an acknowledgment as soon as they are there.” There was no box for yes or no, the video just stopped. Amber was shivering. She looked at the email. She clicked on the file again, but this time nothing happened.

Amber spent much of the next two days looking at pony boots on line. It was amazing the variety that was available. The price ranged from the low $100s to almost $1,000. Amber wondered what was coming. She tried to remember the boots worn by the pony. She remembered she liked them, but other than the surface similarity she was unable to match them up with any boots she saw on her computer. She doubted they would be the most expensive, but any pony boots would be superior to the combat boots she had converted.

Amber felt like she had as a child waiting for Christmas morning. She remembered waking to find the room still dark. She knew that the tree and the presents were just outside her door and down the stairs. But she knew she could not go there until her parents were up and came to get her. There was a clock in her room, she was sure it had stopped. She swore the hands were not moving at all. This felt the same. How could two days be such a very long time? She could not focus at work. She got several orders wrong. The next day she just called in sick. She wanted to be at home when the boots came.

Late in the afternoon she saw the brown truck stop in front of her building. She almost ran out to meet the driver. Instead she waited just inside her door. Waited for the knock that would come. Waited and waited, what if the delivery was not for her?

When it happened she jumped. She had been holding herself so tensely that she could not help herself. She was only inches from the door, but she took a deep breath, counted slowly to ten and then she opened the door.

Amber rushed to the bedroom. She opened the box. She stared in as if the crown jewels had just been delivered to her door. The boots were better than anything she had seen on line. Slowly she reached out and touched one. The leather was so soft. But they looked huge. What if they didn’t fit? How did they know her size anyway?

She lifted a boot from the box and turned it in her hand. She studied the deeply sweeping arch ending in a platform under which was the hoof and horse shoe. Held from the side it looked like the line of a horse’s lower leg and foot. 'How clever,' she thought, but she noticed that she would be supporting her weight only on her toes and the balls of her feet. They were like the steepest stiletto heels she had ever seen, but without the heel. She would have to keep her weight forward or she would fall over.

There was a piece of paper on top of the box. It said: “Acknowledge before trying on.” Amber wanted to get right to wearing, but she knew that a pony must be obedient. She opened the last email, hit reply and typed in “receipt acknowledged”.

Almost immediately there was a reply with another file. Again the instructions: “Open Me.” How had it come back so quickly Amber wondered? She clicked the file.

“Excellent.” The voice of the woman said. The image showed the pony, sitting on a bench with someone kneeling next to her. She was not wearing her pony boots, but her arms were still behind her. For a moment Amber wondered if the pony was always kept bound. But then her focus returned to the boots being held by the kneeling figure.

“Remove all of your clothing and then hit continue.” There was an emphasis on the word “all”. The video stopped. Amber did as instructed. She hesitated when she was down to just her panties and bra. She looked over at her computer then she shrugged and removed them. She was going to be obedient even if nobody knew.

After Amber hit ‘continue’ the kneeling figure placed a pony boot on the pony as the voice of the woman gave instructions. The video would stop to allow Amber to follow the procedure. It was pretty natural, but Amber was careful to keep with the instructions, neither moving ahead nor falling behind.

To her amazement the boots fit perfectly. As she had expected, the arch of the foot was significant. When she stood up she wobbled and almost fell. This was going to be a challenge. Amber turned and examined herself in her mirror. The boots made her legs look a foot longer. The contour and definition in her calves was stunning; they even seemed to tighten her thighs and buttocks. Amber had never felt so sexy. Her hand moved to between her legs. She and her vibrator were going to have a little entertainment very soon.

The boots were black leather and came to just below the knees. They laced up the front but then the lacings closed under a strap at the top. There was extra support at the ankle, and a wide strap there as well. There were D rings on the inside of both straps. There were D rings on the outside of the straps as well. Each strap ended with a slot being placed over the outside D ring. A smaller strap threaded through the D ring. This strap fastened into a clip with a distinct clicking sound. Each boot was locked into place at the ankle and just below the knee.

Amber stood and took a tentative step. She thought she looked like a new born deer trying to walk.

The video had started again. “It is necessary that you acclimatize your legs and ankles to the boots and learn to walk properly. Will you be a good pony?” Amber quickly clicked YES. She almost fell as she bent forward to access her computer.

“When you get home from work each day you will completely strip and then put on your pony boots. As you have noticed, they will lock into place. As soon as you have done so you will acknowledge with an email. There will not be a response. At either 9pm or 11 PM exactly you will click on the icon of the boot on your screen. You will be led through an exercise and training routine. It will be from one to two hours. You will sleep in your boots; this provides a good time for your feet to adjust. In the morning at 7 a.m. the locks will open. You can then remove the boots, shower, and prepare for work. No defalcations of any kind will be tolerated. You will be severely punished for disobedience. Do you understand?”

Amber stared at the box on the screen. She had not expected such a rigid schedule. Nothing had been said about how long this would go on. She loved these boots, but how could she sleep in them? She loved the way the looked and felt, but wearing them for hours at a time was going to be a real challenge. She examined the locking straps. She could probably force them open, but it would all but ruin the boots. It was intensive, but she could see how it was important for her to adjust to them. She would give it a go. If she decided she hated them she would not put them back on and send an email to that affect. She clicked YES.

The screen went blank.

Just moving around her apartment Amber started to see the logic of wearing the boots long term. When she stood in them it felt like her foot was going to cramp, but she could feel her body adjusting. At first she made only minimal effort to walk, using her hands to grasp and rely upon objects and walls. When it came time for the first training and exercise session she was glad that she had worn the boots for about five hours.

The session lasted just under an hour. At the end she was exhausted. She had felt clumsy. She had fallen twice, but she was beginning to get the idea of how to properly balance her weight. At the end of the session she felt as if she might be getting it, but she desperately needed to get off her feet. She was happy to stretch out in her bed and turn on the tube. It felt strange to lie in bed dressed only in these boots.

Amber slept better than she expected. In the morning when the boots came off her feet actually hurt when she put on her flats. It took several hours before she adjusted to the change.

A few days later there was another package delivered. Amber was surprised. When she opened the package she found a pair of black four inch heels. A wide strap wrapped around the ankle, and although it did not have D rings it closed with the same locking mechanism as the boots. The note inside said: “Acknowledge Receipt.”

Amber went to her computer and with confusion entered “Some shoes have been received.”

Again, like magic there was a file to open. “These shoes will help your feet adjust to the boots. You will put them on after you take your morning shower. You will not take them off until it is time to put on your boots.” It did not ask her if she understood.

Amber picked up the shoes and turned them in her hand. How on earth could she work in these? She was on her feet all day. No other waitress where she worked wore heels. They all wore comfortable flats. And she would stand out. She could just imagine the ration of shit she was going to get for this. She threw the shoes on the floor. They were nice shoes. They were obviously expensive, but this was asking too much.

Amber completed her daily routine with her pony boots. It had now been two weeks since she started wearing the boots. She was surprised at how well she could walk in them. They were even beginning to feel comfortable. She had not worn the pumps. They sat in the corner next to her closet. That was just asking too much. She was pleased that nothing had been said about it. Maybe the woman did not know, but that seemed unlikely as the shoes would have to be unlocked. More likely, she understood. The shoes had been a suggestion to help, not a requirement.

After three weeks Amber loved the way she looked in the boots. She liked the way she could now walk. She had learned to shift her weight forward to compensate for the lack of a heel, but now it seemed second nature. She wondered when she would get a chance to see the woman again. She thought of going to the club again on her own.

Amber found her workouts so exhilarating that she would collapse on her bed and within minutes masturbate herself to orgasm. She did not even need the aid of her vibrator most of the time.

It had been a month since the boots had arrived. Another package came. Amber was surprised because she was not expecting anything. She could smell the strong odor of leather even before the box was completely open. It looked like a garment of some kind. When Amber held it up she could see that it was a waist cincher. Like a corset it had laces in the back but fastened in the front. The front fasteners were reinforced with straps and buckles so that it could not pop open. The top of the garment had a thick strap that buckled just below the breasts. There was another wide strap that buckled around the waist once the cincher was in place. In addition to holding the restricted waist size this strap covered the knots on the lacing. Finally, there was a strap at the rear that pulled forward through the legs and buckled at the front. The box also contained what looked like some kind of charging unit. This completely mystified Amber. She could see nothing in the garment that needed charging.

Amber was thrilled at the look of the garment. She was a little concerned that if she wore it with nothing underneath she would be covering her crotch with less than two inches of leather.

As before there was an instruction to acknowledge. Amber did.

In the instructional video Amber learned that the preferred way to put on the garment was to have another person tighten the laces once it was in place. Since that was not an option she would have to set the laces at a tight setting, then use a provided tool to pull the front together and allow the clasps to close. The straps could then be used to make it just a little tighter. She was instructed to make it tight for the first times, but not so tight she could not breathe. It was easier than she had expected. Each buckle had a locking feature. When the strap was buckled a hole (or holes) from the strap was fed over a short metal post. Once it was pushed down a flange opened at the top of the post so that the belt could not be released. Amber shivered at the thought of her loss of control if she wore this. She knew she could not resist wearing it. She also could feel the effect it was going to have on her. She had not finished putting on the cincher and already she was getting wet. She ran her hands up and down over the leather.

The mystery of the charger was answered. It was for the vibrating dildo that Amber had carried away from the club deep within her. Pursuant to instruction Amber plugged the charger in. It immediately showed green and then red lights. To Amber’s surprise a red light lit up on the back of the dildo. The device was a proximity charger it did not have to be connected to the dildo to charge it. Amber made a face as she considered the implication. Amber learned that the strap that would be fed between her legs had a mount for the dildo right at the crotch. Wearing this, her crotch may be barely covered, but it would not be empty. Following instructions Amber connected the dildo into its place in the belt; it easily clicked into place, and then worked the huge device into her body. She had not used it since it had been removed from her after the trip to the club. Somehow it seemed larger. She was not sure she could get it in. But she succeeded.

Amber pulled the strap tight using the roller buckle to make it snug, but not too snug. She pushed the strap down over the post. The flange did not open like it had on the other straps on the waist cincher. Her computer beeped. A box popped open it read: “You can do better than that. TIGHTER.”

She was shocked at how she was being monitored. She pulled the strap tighter by a notch, and tried again. The computer beeped again. The box opened. “PATHETIC. One more notch is acceptable for now.”

Amber provided a few graphic invectives to the computer, but did find she was able to pull the strap another notch without too much difficulty. This time the strap locked into place.

Being locked in the boots, knowing that she could not take them off had been a thrill, but now there was this additional garment, and, it not only imprisoned her sex but held a device tightly within her that could be used to please her, even perhaps torment her. Just thinking about it she fell back onto her bed and began to play with her nipples. Her hand reached to between her legs, but the tight belt prevented any access. She tried to work a finger under the belt, but could not. Had her probable reaction been predicted and then prevented. The knowledge of the control over her only increased the sensation and her frustration. What did she have to do to get satisfaction?

By this time Amber walked and pranced in her boots with grace. She had recently started to jog in place. This was much harder and she quickly tired. With the addition of the waist cincher she was allowed to go back to just walking and work through the stages again. It increased the difficulty because it forced her body to be more erect and limited her breathing. She had to learn to take shorter, more frequent breaths.

The boots were comfortable but the waist cincher was the opposite. In addition it denied Amber access to herself. She threw a fit when after fitting the waist cincher and completing her exercise the program told her she would be wearing it until morning. She stomped around her room. She pulled at the straps. She yelled at the computer. She cried.

Just wearing the boots had been such a turn on that she was able to get to orgasm after every workout. The waist cincher made her even more excited, the feeling of the huge plug moving inside her as she pranced was almost enough to get her off, almost being the operative term. She could her feel orgasm almost there. Just a little touch would do it, but she was prevented from touching herself. She would have to wait until morning when she took her shower. Then she lay down and tried to sleep. It was hard to think of anything but her needs.

By morning she felt ok, and understood that there might be a positive value in sleeping in it, even if it was uncomfortable. The worst part was that having her body so under control of another was making her horny beyond belief and the damn belt made sure she could not even touch herself. By morning she was beside herself. The minute she was released she dropped back on her bed and manipulated herself to orgasm. She lay panting for a long time before she got to the business of getting ready for work. She would be late. That had been so frustrating.

All Amber had to do was not put the boots and/or the cincher back on when she came home from work. Throughout the day she carried on heavy debates with herself. She came home. She sat on her bed. She looked at the boots. She held them in her hands. 'Why am I doing this?' she thought. The computer – why couldn’t she talk to a real person – told her she could quit at any time. Just pack up the boots, cincher and accessories in their box and send them back. She thought about it. She couldn’t do it. As much as she suffered after she was dressed she needed this.

But she was not sure of her resolve. Any day she thought she would give up. She knew she needed the feeling of being under control to reach the high levels of excitement. Although, she had not been completely obedient. First, there was the issue of the shoes she was supposed to wear during the day. She had only put them on twice. It was not to go to work, but to go out. It did feel better switching between the high heel shoes and the pony boots. She was worried about putting them on at first, but when it came time to put on her pony boots the locks on the shoes opened. Still, she could not bring herself to wear them to work.

She had not always met her timing for her training. A couple of nights she had missed altogether. One was when she had gone out dancing (wearing the stilettos) and not gotten home until after midnight. Although she had not been sanctioned or even chided for it she felt terribly guilty. She was supposed to put on the cincher and the pony boots as soon as she got home.

Just being home at night was driving her crazy. There was no restriction on her going out, but once dressed in the pony boots she did not dare leave. She would certainly attract attention she did not want most places. She was supposed to put them on the minute she got home. She usually did and that meant she was stuck. She would not dare wear them out. The one exception would be the club.

Amber had almost gone to the club by herself on at least four occasions. Once she had dressed in her new accoutrements and even driven over to the club. She had parked outside and watched people go in. In the end she had not gone in herself but had returned home. When she got home she felt sad and depressed. This was becoming too much. She got out the boxes and thought about sending everything back. If she hadn’t been locked in them at the moment that might have been the end of everything, but she was locked in. She could not send them back until morning.

Amber received an email from the woman. Her heart stopped as she read. She was to come to the club the following Friday night. She was directed to wear the boots, the waist cincher – with dildo fully charged and inserted, and the bit gag she had worn the first night, together with her posture collar that she had bought and worn before. She could wear something that covered her breasts if she desired. Her hair was to be in a pony tail from the top of her head. Her eyes were to be made up. She was to be in the club and waiting at the wall area where she had been tethered by 8 PM sharp.

The timing couldn’t have been better. It had been two months and Amber was on the verge of throwing in the towel. She needed more than just distant isolated control. She wanted to give up control, but she needed some contact with it.

Amber was at the club by 7 PM. She wore her pony boots, her waist cincher with the crotch strap tightly holding the dildo inside her, her posture collar, and her bridle with the rubber bit gag. She wore a bikini swim suit top in a bright blue. It didn’t match very well with the rest of the outfit, but it was the best she could think of.

Amber went first to the bar, but felt out of place. She was a pony after all. Finally, about 7:30 she went to the location where she had been tethered the last time she was here. She fastened the leash line from her bit to the ring on the wall. Her hands were free, but she stood holding them behind her. She made the line loose so she could see what was going on. Now she felt more at home.

The waitress brought her a drink and she happily drank around her bit. She carefully kept her hands behind her as if they were restrained. Her heart thumped with excitement.

There was a voice behind her. “More than prompt. That is good. It might even make up for some of your failings, but not for the blatant disobedience.”

Amber did not look around. She knew that was wrong. Amber felt a hand on her right wrist. She felt a cuff fastened about it. Then she felt the same thing on her left wrist. Just being touched was making her legs begin to wobble. She could feel the tingling between her legs. She heard and felt the click of a link joining her wrists. They were now fastened behind her back. Amber was so excited. She was stepping from foot to foot. It would not take much to drive her to orgasm. But the woman was careful not to touch her anywhere that might provoke such a response. Amber felt her hands raised, then she heard another click. Her wrists, secured together, were now also fastened to a ring in the belt at the top of her waist cincher. It was not painful but did strain her arms. She had virtually no use of her arms.

“You have done a good job with the outfit. But it is time for a proper bridle.” Amber felt the straps surrounding her head loosened and removed. When the bit was pulled from her mouth she was tempted to say something, but words failed her. She stood quietly. She kept her focus straight ahead.

She could feel a new network of straps being wrapped around her head. She knew the old bridle was not too good, but it was the best she could find at the adult store. There was now a strap around her head just above her eyes. Another strap circled her head vertically from below her chin over the top of her head. A third strap held rings at both corners of her mouth then passed behind her head. From the rings at her mouth the legs of an inverted Y met between her eyes and then continued over the top of her head as a single strap. This strap had a large ring through which her pony tail was pulled. The rings at her mouth also had another strap that went under her chin. This, strap, when tightened, would pull her mouth tightly shut over a gag or bit.

The bit was metal – except at the sides where her teeth intersected it. There it was plastic. Inside her mouth there was a flat plate that sat on her tongue. It curved slightly downward toward the back of her mouth. On top of the plate was a U-shaped piece that hinged independently to the plate. This piece was connected to arms on the outside of the bit. If pressure was applied to the bit arms it pushed the U-shaped piece up into the roof of her mouth while levering the plate down onto her tongue. Amber looked at the bit as it was brought to her face. There were slots in the flat plate; Amber did not understand their function. They were designed to connect to piercings that could be inserted in the pony’s tongue. Amber had no such adornments and was, for now, pleasantly naïve.

As the woman adjusted and tightened all the buckles Amber sensed the increased control of this device, but she didn't know its full potential. Reins were attached to the bit arms and fastened to the ring in the wall. The woman did not give Amber the free range that she had previously allowed herself. Amber turned her head to see what was happening and gasped at the pressure in her mouth from the bit. It would be impossible to resist this.

Amber tried to move the bit around in her mouth. It did not have the mass of the rubber bit, but the plate held her tongue down and made speech impossible. Amber experimented. “I can still talk.” She had said, but it sounded like “a ka ull ak.” She could not still talk.

Amber explored the cuffs on her wrists. They were tight but not painfully so. Her fingers tried to find the clip that held them together. It was not so much that she wanted to be let go but she felt compelled to test her restraints. She could touch the clip. She could feel the ring in her cinch to which her hands were now held. But she was unable to manipulate in any way the fasteners that held her. She tried to feel around for buckles on the cuffs. She could not find any. It was very interesting she thought. She really enjoyed being made helpless, but she could not resist testing the limits of her bondage. She was not really being held if she could just release the restraints. She could not release them. She was, in fact, helpless.

As the excitement of that fact descended through her body there was a buzzing sound and Amber shrieked and jumped. She had worn the dildo inside her for so long that she had forgotten its vibrating function. Early on, when she realized it was being charged, she had expected that it would be used, but as time went on and nothing happened she assumed that it was broken. It was not. It was on now.

She had been so frustrated. Every night when she fastened the intruder into her body she had longed for someone to touch her, but the tight locked belt had prevented it. The presence of the invader was just enough to keep her thinking about sex, but not enough to get her over the edge. There had been several mornings – ok, most mornings – where as soon as the belt unlocked her fingers had moved to between her legs. She was pretty sure she was not supposed to be doing that, but it felt so very good, and it helped encourage her to put her outfit back on the next evening. After all, she was entitled to some reward for wearing it all night.

All of Amber’s attention was now between her legs. She remembered being brought to climax on stage before the audience. She was not on stage now, and there was no real audience, but she was ready to try to outdo that event.

Then it stopped. “Fuck!” Yelled Amber. More like “UUUUUUUUKK”.

She twisted against her reins looking for the woman. The woman was nowhere to be seen. Where had she gone? Why was she doing this? Amber shook her body back and forth. She danced in her pony boots and she squealed. None of that changed the fact that she would be denied her climax. Interestingly, she had been very excited before the vibrator turned on. It would not have taken much to get her over the top. But when the intensity of the vibrator started it directed all her attention to that. When it stopped her ability to get over the top stopped too.

Before Amber could give it much thought it started again. Not long this time. Only enough this time to tease. Then it was off. She danced and tried to protest. The sound that came out sounded more like a horse than a human. She really was a pony now, a very frustrated one.

The vibrator came on and cycled again. “Only good ponies are rewarded.” The woman was standing behind her. “Do you think you have been a good pony?”

Amber could not answer and she did not know what to say if she could. She had but the boots on and practiced every night. Well, almost every night. Well, at least most of the time. She had worn the cincher and pulled it pretty tight. But she had refused to wear the shoes. She had not been prompt. Was that enough to overcome the failings? Amber said nothing. She looked back as best she could.

“As I thought. We really need to do something about your obedience, don’t we?”

Amber hung her head. She had tried to be good. She had wanted to be good. But it was not fair to expect her to be under control all the time. That was not what she wanted. She wanted to have her life but be able to give up control now and then. Did it have to be all or nothing?

The woman unfastened the reins. She turned and walked pulling the reins and Amber behind her. Amber stumbled at first but then caught the pace and kept up. They crossed to another corner of the club. Amber saw a pillory. There was a wooden board with a large hole in the center and smaller holes to the sides. The neck, obviously, went in the large hole. The hands could be secured in the smaller holes. The subject would have to be bent forward at the waist. The woman lifted the top bar on the pillory and pulled Amber’s neck down into the hole. Amber expected her to release her hands and put them in the other holes, but she did not. She just lowered the top bar trapping Amber’s neck. Her hands remained fastened high on her back.

This was not a comfortable position. At least with hands in the stock an occupant could reduce pressure on the neck. Amber tried to complain but the woman paid no attention. “Maybe I should just beat you. Would you like that?” The woman had a flexible looking cane in her hands. Amber liked being restrained. She liked being controlled, but she did not like the idea of being beaten. She did not think she was going to go along with that idea. She shook her head back and forth vigorously.

“Are you prepared to be a good pony?” Amber shook her head up and down. She was going to be a good pony. She didn’t want a beating. The woman smiled. “Ok. This time.” She held out a hand and lifted Amber’s chin. “I am going to let the vibrator amuse you for the next hour. You will not cum. Is that clear?” Amber nodded her head up and down. “If you cum you get five strokes of the cane. So, you can see, you completely control your destiny.” The cane had a curved handle. The woman slipped the handle of the cane around one of Amber’s bit arms. “We will just keep it here handy in case you forget.” Amber gasped.

The vibrator came on. Now Amber was completely conflicted. Previously she had wanted nothing more than to reach climax. Now it was a different matter. She had seen enough of what goes on in the club to have little doubt that the woman would use the cane on her. She also knew that nobody here thought anything wrong with that and nobody would interfere. She was unable to help herself and would have no way of preventing it. So there she was, fighting the excitement, doing everything she could to resist the temptation to let go and get what she so badly needed.

Just when she thought all hope was lost it stopped. She sighed and tried to gain control of herself. How long had it been? The worst part of being under control was the loss of time. Amber had no idea how long that had taken but she suspected it was minutes not hours. To make matters worse word of her ordeal had spread and she was gaining an audience. She did not want that now. She remembered the cheers when she climaxed on stage. She imagined that if she climaxed again now there would be cheers. Then they would all stand around and cheer the woman as Amber was beaten.

But they didn’t wait. When the vibrator sprung to life again there were cheers. As it continued to work on her and she danced and moaned the enthusiasm of the crowd grew. Some were rooting for her, others were taunting her. She could hear wagers being made. She had never felt so humiliated in her entire life. She imagined that some of these people might be customers that she would be required to wait on at work. Would they say something to her? Would they look down on her? How could she handle that? Here it was one thing, in the regular world another thing all together.

To Amber’s relief she survived the second cycle. She was not sure if her shame over her predicament helped or made her more excited. She was having a lot of trouble reconciling her emotions.

After about eight cycles Amber lost track. She had tried to put her mind in another place. She had tried to ignore the sensation between her legs, but the infernal device seemed to be able to read her, as if it knew when it had overcome her resistance. It also seemed to know when she could not take it anymore and when she was on the very verge of exploding. It would have taken so little at those moments to send her crashing, but it did not. Instead it would give her the false relief of stopping. When the hour was finally up and the woman had returned Amber did not know what to think. There was the relief at having avoided the cane, but there was the frustration after having been driven to such a level for so long and then being denied.

Now that the vibrator had stopped and the hour was up Amber really wanted to do something about her frustration. But she was helplessly locked in place.

The woman left Amber in the stocks for a long time. Amber did not know how long. She was so happy when she was finally released. “I want to see what you have learned during your nightly training.” She held the reins and moved Amber onto the dance floor. Things had thinned out a little and the woman was able to find a place to the side where she could put Amber through her paces. The voice on the training routines was that of the woman so this felt normal and natural. At first Amber was self conscious because people were watching, but the woman gave her a stroke across the thighs with the end of the reins and told her to focus. It didn’t hurt much, but it got her attention. She focused.

Amber must have done pretty well because the woman told her she was making good progress, and she stroked the side of Amber’s head. Amber felt very proud.

Finally the evening was at an end. Amber was exhausted. Frustrated, but exhausted. She couldn’t wait to get home. Her thoughts were all about getting the cinch removed and being able to touch herself. The woman unclipped Amber’s arms but did not remove the cuffs.

The woman held Amber’s reins tightly and directed her face to hers. “When you are released from your cinch and boots in the morning you are not to touch yourself. After your shower you will replace your cinch and you WILL wear the nice heels I gave you.” Amber gasped. "Just to make sure I will have arranged someone to help you."

Amber did not want that. She did not want somebody else coming into the sanctity of her home and “helping” her. Let them knock on her door. She would not let them in.

Amber did not like the suggestion that she had to be more obedient. However, if the last time at the club had been exciting, tonight had been off the scale. She needed more of this. But she didn’t want to be controlled all the time. Would she still want this if she could not cheat? She wanted it, she needed it. She would just have to find ways to cheat so she did not get caught. Just the thought of sneaking some unauthorized pleasure was exciting. Amber tried to put it out of her mind. She was just making herself more frustrated.

Amber was glad to get home. She was required to sleep in her cincher and pony boots anyway so there was just the bikini top, collar and bridle that she could remove before going to sleep. The bridle was a bit of a challenge. Amber had tried to remove it when she got back to her car but finally gave up and drove home bridled and bitted. Only with the help of her bathroom mirror could she find all the buckles and finally get it off. As she dropped it onto the counter in her bathroom she pictured herself being stopped by the police and trying to talk. It was funny now. Would not have been in reality. She had been foolish. Was she being foolish about a lot of things? Letting fantasy become reality can be very dangerous. She chided herself as her hands caressed the strap between her legs and longed to get below its confines. She was very frustrated, but she was just too tired to give things much more thought. She collapsed on her bed and fell asleep. She would reevaluate everything tomorrow. At least come morning she would be able to release the cinch and let her fingers deal with her frustration.

End of part 2

Copyright© 2014 by I. Binder. All rights reserved.