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Review This Story || Author: Shackleford Bond

Number One Pony

Part 7


PANAMA PATTY


Panama Patty


Audrey was tired and bleary eyed the next morning. Apparently the photographer didnt let her get much sleep. He tied her to the bed and screwed her many times during the night. A couple of times she was asleep and woke to feel his weight on her body and his cock inside her. (Apparently he is quite virile.) She didnt complain though, she enjoyed it all.

He also offered her a contract to be a professional model and promised that she could make a fortune, especially if she was willing to show her face.

She was flattered but turned him down, so he offered to buy her permanently. Audrey pretended to be interested, but warned him that she was insatiable so if he bought her hed have to be able to concentrate on sex every day, several times a day, and he wouldnt have time for anything else. That got him excited and he crawled on top of her again.

When he finished with that bout she told him that if he wanted to buy her permanently she would include a clause in the contract that guaranteed that he must satisfy her sexually and if he failed to do so, then he would have to return her to the farm and forfeit the purchase money.

He thought it over and reluctantly decided that he probably shouldnt purchase her after all. He fucked her one last time just as the sun was coming up and she had barely fallen asleep when a house pony came to awaken her. She ate a hurried breakfast and joined us as we were being harnessed up.

She was exhausted and bravely tried to pull her share, but we could see how beat she was. She fell asleep during the first break and Mistress Eve didnt wake her. She rigged the rest of us in a troika and we finished the field. 

Audrey slept for a couple of hours, then woke just before lunch. She scrambled to her feet and stood at attention with an embarrassed look on her face. When we passed close Mistress Eve motioned for Audrey to sit back down. Audrey obeyed but her body language told of her mortification.

After lunch Audrey leapt to her feet and was first in position to be harnessed up. Mistress Eve was very kind and patted her on the bottom when she buckled the traces to Audreys harness.

“Im so sorry,” Audrey murmured as we pulled the plow.

“Dont worry,” I told her. “We saw how tired you were.”

“Yeah, its ok,” Three whispered.

“Uh huh,” Two added.

Audrey blinked back a tear, then raised her head proudly.


After a few days they took Audrey off my team and put my usual girls back. She was paired with Gloria pulling the lunch cart. Two ponies arent needed for that job; it was just a way for Audrey to spend time with Gloria and to see the entire farm.

The first evening they were together, Audrey and Gloria were displayed as a pair at a dinner party. To Audreys intense indignation, Mistress Karen introduced them as the granny ponies. All the guests wanted to buy them for the night and the auction became rather heated. The granny ponies were sold for quite a lot of money.

They were bought by a married couple who took them to their room and made them act out several lesbian scenarios before the man and his wife took one each to bed.

They were both tired the next morning, but the lunch cart doesnt start its rounds until eleven, so they snuck away to one of Glorias hiding places and took a nap.

After a couple of days Audrey was assigned to pull the seed spreader. She confided to me that she preferred pulling a plow because the spreader was too light and easy.

I smiled when she said that. I looked at her body; she was trim and fit, her legs had toned up and her tummy had flattened.

“You are nicely firmed up,” I said. “It reminds me of something Gloria said to the effect that a working pony farm would be the best place in the world to lose weight.”

“If Karen were to turn this place into a fat farm shed make a fortune,” Audrey agreed. “Think of the ways we could motivate the customers to lose weight.”

“Such as?”

“An orgasm for every pound they drop,” she said. “And a whipping if they dont lose.”

“Some of them might be masochists,” I said. “What if they like being whipped?”

“Then they could earn a dozen strokes for every pound lost,” she replied instantly. “Two forms of positive motivation.”

“Ah, I see,” I said. “And after theyve reached their goal?”

“We auction them off to the male guests. And the girls whos lost the most weight gets to be used by several men.”

“What if they arent nymphomaniacs?” I asked. “Like some people I know.”

She smiled sweetly at me.

“What if they are happy with just one man?” I continued.

“Too bad. They have to have an orgy, whether they like it or not.”

“Poor things.”

“To stimulate the bidding we could show before and after videos of fat naked women struggling in harness on the first day, and then trotting past the camera slim and fit after only a few weeks. Like those before and after make over shows on television.”

“Now, that might just work,” I agreed. “Lots of men like the story of the ugly duckling.”

“I think you should mention it to Mistress Karen,” Audrey said.


As Audreys time drew near to ending she spent more evenings talking to the other ponies about their past experiences and how they came to be here. I introduced her to Panama Patty who was a number two on another team. Audrey had been on the farm long enough to hear Pattys story with more understanding. Its not a story we tell to brand new girls.

Panama Patty sat with us after dinner and related how she became a pony girl. Everyone crowded round to listen.

“How did you get the name?” Audrey asked when they were introduced.

“I got it because I was enslaved in Panama,” Patty answered. “I lived on a pony ranch down there for over a year, and it wasnt by consent.”

“Not by consent?” Audrey asked. “Then why did you do it?”

“I had no choice,” Patty said. “I was kidnapped.”

“For real? I thought kidnapping was just a common slave girl fantasy.”

“It is, for those who have never been truly kidnapped,” Patty replied. “When its real it is very frightening.”

“What happened?”

“I was working as a model in New York,” Patty said. (By the way, Patty is strikingly beautiful and no one can look at her and doubt that she was a model). “I did lingerie modeling and got offered lots of money to do porn work but I always turned it down. I wouldnt even do frontal topless pictures. My agent introduced me to a man from Central America whose name was Fernando Villa. He told me that he was a real estate developer and wanted me to pose for ads in front of some luxury houses. He told me that many of the shots would be in bikinis and tasteful nudity on the beach, but I wouldnt have to show too much. He offered an enormous fee and promised that after the shoot I could stay as his guest for a few weeks and live in one of the mansions. I assumed that my agent had checked the guy out so I accepted.”

“Uh oh,” someone said.

“Yep,” Patty agreed. “When I went down to Panama everything was just as Id been told. They put me up in a beautiful house with servants, a chauffeured car, lots of expensive clothes and jewelry.”

“Didnt you see what he was up to?” Audrey asked.

“Of course I did. Id been propositioned by wealthy men since I first became a model,” Patty said. “And some times I accepted the propositions, if I liked the guy. But I was in no mood to become the trophy girlfriend to a chubby Panamanian twerp with an inflated ego.”

“What happened?”

“I managed to fend him off. After the photo shoots were completed I asked for my plane ticket to New York. He told me that Id have it the next morning. That night my food was drugged and I woke up in a pony girl stable somewhere in the mountains.”

“Wow.”

“I woke up naked in a locked horse stall. I screamed for somebody to let me out but I was ignored. Finally a man showed up, told me to be quiet and gave me some breakfast. I demanded to be released and wouldnt be quiet so he opened the door, yanked me out, tied my wrists to a beam over my head and whipped me.”

“My God.”

“That was the first time Id been whipped and believe me, I did not find it to be erotic.”

“Go on,” Audrey whispered.

“They left me hanging all morning,” Patty said. “Then took me down and raped me.”

“They, as in more than one man?” Audrey asked.

“They, as in four men.”

“Good God.”

“They threw me back in my cell and when I screamed for help I was taken out and whipped again. I thought I was in a nightmare.

“I lay on a cot and watched them train and torture other girls,” Patty continued. “And when the guards finished with them, they came for me again.”

“You resisted them?” Audrey asked.

“Yes, until I couldnt take any more.

“I was whipped and screwed every day,” Patty went on. “Until I was broken. I tried to resist but they had perfected the skill of making women into slaves. I eventually became a whimpering slave girl. After that they trained me to harness.”

“Were you still sexually assaulted?”

“Of course,” Patty snorted. “Every day, several times a day, by a staff of stable masters. They screwed me during my training and any other time they felt like it. Its awful, but being treated like a piece of meat does wonders to lower a womans self esteem. After a while I accepted everything they did to me.

“The stable had eight other girls in it and I watched and learned from them. I became submissive and learned to obey every command instantly, whether it was to pull a cart or to drop to my knees and suck a cock.

“My world became a routine of sleep, sex, punishment and pony training. As I became more docile the sex increased and the punishment lessened. Living like that does something to your head. My world shrank, I thought less and less about my family and friends back home and I actually became brainwashed into wanting to please the stable masters. After basic pony training pulling carts and chariots I was taught dressage. I worked very hard to be a good pony girl. I became so conditioned that I even practiced in my stall.

“After some weeks, Fernando showed up, watched me perform, and decided that I was properly trained, so he took me to his home.”

“Where was that?”

“It was a mansion on the outskirts of Panama City,” Patty said. “It was surrounded by a huge wall and patrolled by security guards, which is very common down there, so there is excellent privacy to keep slaves without anyone noticing.

“Fernando was a sadistic little twerp and insisted that we call him Don Fernando. We had to bow or curtsey and beg him to fuck us. He loved to humiliate us and if he snapped his fingers we had to bend over and spread our asses with our hands.”

“How many were you?”

“Four pony girls,” Patty said. “But there was a house full of other female slaves who cooked and cleaned, did the laundry and so on. They all went naked or wore skimpy costumes and they were just as submissive and abused as we were. Don Fernando liked torturing women and looked for any excuse to whip one of the house servants. If he didnt have an excuse he made one up.”

“Did you have to work?” Audrey asked.

“No, we pony girls were for display only. Don Fernando liked to entertain and we put on shows for his guests. We would greet visitors wearing our harness and standing at attention in the foyer. He had a large outdoor dining area and we performed while they ate.”

“What about racing, or other competitions?”

“Yes, we had to do that,” Patty said. “We would be taken back to the stable in the mountains for race meets. I wasnt a fast runner so I wasnt entered into the real races.”

“Were you punished for that?”

“Oddly enough, I wasnt,” she said. “Don Fernando knew that I tried very hard so he didnt punish me for being slow. What I did do was to trot around giving rides to his guests in a chariot.”

“That doesnt sound too bad,” someone offered.

“They staged little comic chariot races, which gave them a chance to whip us, and afterwards we were given to the guests.”

“Did he give you to men only?” I asked.

“Oh no, he had women friends who liked to torture girls. And women are much more cruel than men.” She took a deep breath. “Sometimes Fernando gave us to his security guards and they liked to gang up on a girl. I would be surrounded by a dozen men who inflicted terrible pain on me, then screwed me until I went numb.”

“Good God,” breathed Audrey.

“Fernando had a doctor in his pay who treated our injuries. And no matter what happened to me I never complained, never let Fernando see me cry and I did my very best to please.”

“Why?”

“Don Fernando was part of a white slavery ring. When he grew tired of a girl he sold her. The horror stories about what happened to some of the girls after they were sold were enough to convince me to do anything to avoid that.”

“How did you get away?”

“My family missed me of course, and my father contacted my agent, who as it turned out, had been bribed by Don Fernando and knew about my kidnapping. Dad smelled a rat when my agent kept telling him that he didnt know where I was.

“My Dad was in the Navy during the Vietnam war. So was my uncle Roy, who was a Navy Seal, so Dad and Uncle Roy paid my agent a visit at his home and convinced him to talk.” 

“How did they do that?” Audrey asked.

Patty looked at her like she was retarded. “Well,” she said slowly and clearly, “They beat him with their fists until he talked.”

“Oh.”

“They flew to Panama and tracked down Don Fernando. When they were sure they had located me they called some friends who were also veterans and they went to Panama too. Then late one night they scaled the wall, knocked out each of the guards, walked into the stable and released me.”

       “Wow!”

       “I was actually awake,” Patty said. “And I saw my father walk in, dressed all in black with black camouflage paint on his face. The stable master was dozing but woke up just as Dad reached him. Dad punched him so hard that he was knocked unconscious.”

       “If your father was camouflaged, how did you know it was him?” someone asked.

       “Daddy was wounded in Vietnam and walks with a slight limp,” Patty said. “I knew it was him.”

“Amazing.”

“Daddy released me and the other girls, then he and the other Americans went into the mansion. They took care of the rest of the guards, released the house slaves, and then paid a visit to Don Fernando in his bedroom.”

“Did they kill him?”

“No, he had another slave girl in bed with him that night. The girl was tied spread wide on the bed and Fernando was fucking her when they walked in. I think if I had been that slave Daddy probably would have killed Fernando, but as it was, they just interrogated him about the slave ring; video taped his answers, and then beat him nearly to death. They took me and another American girl away in a car, loaded the other women and Fernando into a couple of trucks and drove them to the British embassy and dropped them off.”

“Why the British embassy? Why not call the police?”

“Because they didnt trust the Panamanian cops,” Patty said. “And three of the women were British citizens. Daddy figured the British would see that the rest of the women were seen safely back to their homes.”

“What about Fernando? What happened to him?” Audrey asked.

“Daddy left him with the British too. He told me that the British are quite determined when it comes to rescuing their citizens. They can be ruthless, and he told me that the James Bond movies about double O agents having a license to kill isnt fiction. They actually do that.”

“My goodness.”

“Yep, Don Fernando hasnt been seen since that night and the British embassy denies all knowledge of him. I also heard that his security men have gone missing as well.”

“Were the other kidnapped women rescued? The ones he had sold?”

“I dont know,” Patty said. “Its been kept very quiet but I think someone is looking for those women. After Daddy took me home I was visited several times by FBI agents, people from the state department and several gentlemen with English accents who said they were from the British Foreign Service but I got the feeling that they were more like secret agents than diplomats. I told them all I knew.”

“What about your agent?”

“Well, Daddy and Uncle Roy paid him another visit and he offered to hand over all the money hed been collecting for my previous appearances, all the money Fernando paid him, and he refunded all of his fees going back to the beginning of our association.”

“How nice of him.”

“Uh huh, and right after I got all that money he was taken to the hospital with severe injuries he suffered from a bad fall.”

“A fall?” someone asked in disbelief.

“A fall. The doctors thought his injuries looked suspicious but he insisted that he had fallen out of the window of his fourth floor apartment in Manhattan. They said he was lucky to have survived a fall like that.”  

“I take it that your father is some sort of secret agent,” said Audrey.

“No, Daddy teaches history and music appreciation at a middle school in New Hampshire.”

“My, my,” Audrey said. “Your father sounds like an interesting man.”

“Hes terrific.”

“Is he good looking?”

“Very,” Patty laughed. “But forget it, hes married.”

“How did you come to be here?” Audrey asked.

“My modeling career was over,” Patty said. “After disappearing for a year I discovered that it was almost impossible to get back into the business, and I couldnt very well tell people where Id been. I worked in a few jobs but I couldnt settle down. Dad saw to it that I got counseling thinking I needed help dealing with the trauma, but that wasnt the problem.”

“What was the problem?”

“I missed being a slave girl.”

There was a stunned silence.

Finally Audrey managed to close her mouth. “You mean you wanted to go back?”

“Yes, not to Fernando of course, but I wanted to be a slave.”

“Oh my God,” Number Three breathed in awe.

“Yeah,” Patty shrugged wryly. “Its addicting, isnt it?”

Everyone nodded.

“I went through three bad relationships with men who thought they were masters,” Patty said. “But they only wanted to play around on the weekends. What I wanted was full time slavery.”

“So you came here, right?”

“Not right away. First I became a bondage model.”

“Oh dear, did you do hard core?”

“Of course.”

“Did you find it satisfying?” I asked.

“Nope, but I needed to make a living, and I thought that I might meet people in the bondage life style.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, but no one could satisfy me, at least no one I wanted to be with.”

“Why not?”

“The decent people werent cruel enough, and the cruel people were creeps and weirdoes.”

There were understanding nods.

“I heard about the farm and came out for a visit and met with Mistress Karen,” Patty continued. “She tested me with some serious bondage before she accepted me. I cried with happiness the moment she tied me up.”

“Wow.”

“I felt at home,” Patty said. “But before I moved in I flew back to New Hampshire and told my family what I wanted to do.”

“How did they take that?”

“Dad didnt take it well at all,” Patty said. “But my step mom understood and she helped me explain it to him. In fact, she took him into the bedroom and had him tie her to the bed.”

“So your step mother is into bondage?” Audrey asked.

“I think so, but I dont know how deeply she might be into it.”

“Interesting.”

“Finally my father accepted what I wanted. I offered to have him visit the farm but he turned it down.”

“Yeah, I dont think many fathers would want to see what their daughters do here,” I said.

“No kidding,” Debbie said. “My father would have a heart attack if he saw me in harness.”

There were lots of nods.

“I wonder how many of our families know,” I mused.

“Mine does,” said a voice from the back, very quietly.

“So does mine,” another girl said.

“My sisters know,” a third woman said. “But they keep it from my parents.”

There was a long pause.

“It sounds like your step mother is pretty understanding,” Audrey said.

“Yes, shes great,” Patty said. “Dad doesnt know it, but shes visited me here.”

“What did she think?”

“She understood completely,” Patty said. “Mistress Karen gave her the tour and offered to let her try on some harness.”

“Did she?”

“I dont know. They were in the tack shed for a long time and my step mother changes the subject when I ask her about it.”

“Maybe you ought to invite her again,” someone chuckled.

“I dont dare,” Patty answered. “I dont want her leaving Dad for this lifestyle.”

“And you probably dont want to be teamed up naked with your step mother,” Gloria said.

“God no. That would be too weird.”

“Is your father ok with your life style now?”

“To a degree,” Patty said. “He thinks Im still suffering from trauma and he hopes Ill get over it someday and go back to being a normal girl. When I go home on furlough he always sets me up with nice young men.”

“Do you let them tie you up?”

“No, they are friends of my family so I behave myself. Dad wants me to find a decent man and settle down, but privately I asked my step mother to keep her eye out for a cruel sexy master.”  

“She sounds like a Jewish matchmaker,” Audrey laughed.

“Were Jewish,” Patty chuckled. “Thats exactly what she is.”

“So hows she doing?”

“She set me up with a couple of men, but they werent strong enough for me,” Patty sighed. “Shes still looking.”

“Does she test them before she introduces them to you?” I asked.

“I dont know,” Patty said. “But I suppose anything is possible.”

“If you prefer men, why arent you at a farm with masters?” someone asked.

“Oh, I dont mind working for mistresses,” Patty said. “And its safer here. But if I could find the right master Id go with him in a heartbeat.”

“What would the right master be like?” I asked.

“Tough, strong, cruel but considerate of me as a human being,” Patty said. “And someone who would still want me after hes given me to a dozen of his friends.”

“Wow.”

“I want him to see every stroke of the whip on my skin,” she said. “And watch each thrust of their cocks into me, and when theyve finished with me Id want him to still love me, and no matter what theyve already done to me, Id save my orgasm for him.”


“I learned something from Patty,” Audrey told me later.

“Whats that?”

“Her concept of fidelity,” she said. “Shes willing to be screwed by dozens of men, but she can prove her devotion to her master by allowing only him to make her come.”

       “Makes perfect sense to a slave,” I said.

“Yes, and Ive been here long enough that I understand it too.”

“Maybe youre beginning to fit in here,” I said. “Perhaps you ought to consider moving here permanently.”

“Or get out while I still have some will power.”





Review This Story || Author: Shackleford Bond
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