Man - Woman - Pony 1: Acquisition

Part 1: Acquisition

Membership in the Club is exclusive. The Club is exceptionally secret and has very limited membership. They are all very rich and live very private lives, which allow them to carry on their very private interests. Put simply they acquire – abduct – innocent (well for the most part) young men and women and turn them into their slaves. Outrageous and deplorable in this modern age? Certainly, but it does happen, and with sufficient resources, boundless imagination and secret and inescapable locations, this Club has proved very successful.

For two very unfortunate slaves their abduction was only the start of a shocking and painful life change. Their stories are quite similar and I will relate them. In this case these are not young men that have been arbitrarily snatched off the street, but they are the subject of carefully engineered plans of revenge. This story starts about two years ago.

Slave number 11 (his former name is of no matter anymore) was, sadly, a bit of a gigolo, a real ladies’ man, very pretty, very handsome in an androgynous way, which is fine, but he was also uncaring, callous, arrogant and very full of himself, casting women aside when he’d had his fill of them, without so much as a care. He also liked abusing women, at first maybe they thought it was a bit of fun, getting the senses heightened, a little bit of bondage, a friendly not-too-hard spanking. But as is often the case it soon extended beyond the limits of their desires. Forced anal seemed to be his favourite pleasure accompanied by some harder slapping and occasional more stringent and occasionally painful bondage and then there was the forced oral – full, gagging deep throat. Again this may have been fun and consensual at first but soon it became not so much fun for the women at all. How he thought he could keep getting away with it, only he knew. And he did for a while, for no complaints ensued, perhaps the women felt that they couldn’t handle the public exposure, young pretty men like number 11 usually rely on that.

Well, he did it just one time too many. A pretty young thing she is, 21 now but barely 20 when she met him. And at first it was fun, and then as per his modus, it escalated. Unpleasantness, tears and guilt followed, and then a discussion with daddy! Who, it turned out, was one of those Russian oil gazillionaires, and with a somewhat chequered past himself, to boot. And just to compound the revenge motive in the past he had made friends with a member of The Club, all very discreetly, and wasn’t this a wonderful opportunity to become a member? Yes, number 11, as he was soon to be, had made a big mistake, and daddy would take care of it for his darling daughter.

Soon everything was set in motion, the committee approved, and acquisition team went to work. And in no time the arrogant fool had disappeared from sight forever, and was being processed by the team; full permanent depilation, piercing, ringing and painful branding on the buttock were quickly undertaken. However, to her father’s surprise, it was the daughter who quickly showed a side of herself that shocked even her father, but also made him just a little… proud.

She wanted this Lothario to really pay for her pain and degradation, mental and physical. During their intense encounters he had referred to her as his bitch, she thought it funny at first, after all it was all in play, right? But no, again there was the escalation and the non-consensual nature of it all, particularly some lengthy anal assault that left her more than a little sore, and degraded. Calmly she said to her father she wanted this young man to be her bitch for a change.

A permanent change.

Oh, yes and she was prepared to take care of him on a full time basis. There was more to this young lady than met the eye, she had some steel, and a taste for revenge that rather thrilled her father and would genuinely frighten poor number 11.

Transformation

Sex change procedures are really quite common nowadays, and with the right amount of money, or blackmail the right surgeons and support staff can be hired and paid to keep quiet. And so it proceeded very smoothly (well not for number 11 as he, or rather she had been assigned) and over many months and a series of surgeries, he was reassigned to a… she. The details need not be gone into, but cock and balls were replaced by vagina, labia, a false clitoris (oh, lucky number 11) and a very healthy pair of boobs (with some assistance from two silicone implants). The Adam’s apple was attended to and the voice box too, such that the former Casanova adopted a quite light timbre to her voice.

She underwent a more rigorous depilation programme, the eyebrows were carefully sculpted and the hair, unlike all the other slaves of The Club, allowed to grow to a full bodied shoulder length bob. The diet was strictly controlled and an exercise programme initiated, and soon number 11 was a shapely, slim 140 pounds. In addition, she was placed on a full set of the appropriate drugs and hormones, which she would continue to take for the rest of her new life. She was set up in what was quite a pleasant set of rooms in the basement of one of the billionaire’s homes in the country, set very secluded in over 100 acres, and well away from prying eyes.

Physically this is of course traumatic, but if the reassignment is against the wishes of the patient then psychologically it is very difficult to endure. And from the start number 11 did not take it well and fought, and fought. The sprightly daughter assumed the training duties which included deportment, dress sense and make-up. Our former Lothario resisted this as well she could, and the daughter had to resort to requesting the assistance of one of her father’s many “bodyguards”. These gentlemen do not take no for an answer and the man selected was more than happy to assist his employers’ daughter in disciplining number 11. She could rely on his undying loyalty and discretion. A cattle prod and the generous use of a cane had to be applied and soon number 11’s buttocks and rear of her thighs bore the signs of her resistance.

A Gloomy Slave Needs Company

But number 11 continued to fight. She was depressed, pouted continually and declined to communicate at all. She even refused to wear the clothes provided for her. Although her mistress had a rather begrudging admiration for her pluck, something had to be done. This was no fun at all for her mistress. She wanted a slave that could be trained, perhaps reluctantly at first but eventually when sense prevailed. She expected the slave to accept her new lot in life. What other option had she? Number 11 had no hope of escape, none at all, her sex had been altered irrevocably, but she just would not admit this unhappy fact, and still resisted. Why couldn’t she just accept her fate? After her sexual reassignment had stabilised, for the following weeks she had to be forced into the rubber clothes her mistress had carefully selected for her – her mistress like rubber clothing, and how it flattered the female frame, and it was the material of choice for all the members of the club - and as soon as make-up had been applied, forcefully sometimes, would attempt to smear it off. So she spent an increasing amount of time in bondage, wriggling and squirming in whatever rubber costume that had been selected for her, with her mistress watching in disappointment, and hoping eventually she would yield. But no.

The young mistress and her father discussed this at length, and it was the mistress that came up with what she hoped would be an unorthodox solution. Very unorthodox.

“What if she had some company, someone to stop her feeling sorry for herself? Someone she could share her trials with, someone to share the load. Someone who could advise her that this is irreversible and she has to accept it.” The daughter said. Her father got the drift and smiled.

“My darling, you can’t mean another… we procure another… can you really take care of two… ”

“Oh yes, I really am enjoying this, despite 11’s resistance. Daddy, I know I can do this. I think it may be easier in fact, they will have comfort in each other, I think it could work. We’ll put them together, they’ll have to get on with each other, they’ll have no choice. All we have to do is find another arrogant, sexist, narcissistic, pretty-boy young prick who won’t be missed.” She laughed. “Shouldn’t be too hard. And I want one of similar size and looks to 11, so they can share clothes and equipment.” Her father nodded, he really was very proud of his daughter.

And so another acquisition order was put in place, and the search was on. Again the daughter acted as prey. She was very beautiful, and was honey to the swarm of bees around her, all brimming with testosterone. She talked with her girlfriends, it’s a small world among the very rich, stories abound and reputations are quickly made. It did not take long before a suitable candidate was selected.

Soon number 11 was to be joined by number 23, a similarly shallow, arrogant pretty-boy, full of himself. Quickly he disappeared without a trace, with no evidence of his last movements. The effective wheels were set in motion – a series of surgeries, full depilation, piercing, branding, just a little silicone enhancement, an exercise programme and drug and hormone therapy. Number 23 is a pretty one all right. And critically for her mistress, number 23 did not have the fighting instinct of number 11, and she was delighted to see quite soon after the surgery saw that there was no hope for escape, and therefore seemed to accept her new life, such as it was!

Number 23’s quarters during her transformation were only down the corridor in the same basement as where number 11 was held, but they never met, and neither was aware of each other, or their similar fate. However, now they had been fully transformed, the two new (really quite attractive) women would share their accommodation and their future. The young mistress watched with interest on the closed circuit TV as number 23 was finally brought in to join her new companion, and begin their new life together. Leaving her own quarters she was blindfolded and lightly cuffed – her mistress was very pleased to note that there was little fight left in this filly. She was dressed all in latex, this being de rigueur of course. Shiny black stockings and three inch pumps covered her shapely legs, these being supported by suspenders from a waist cinching rubber corset incorporating a bra that firmly cupped her enhanced breasts. Black panties with white frills, a posture collar and shoulder length gloves completed the ensemble. There was no dress or further outer clothing. Her mistress liked the shock value, for 23 was really quite a looker! She had taught her prodigy in make-up skills, initially she had been reluctant, but soon learnt that this would get her nowhere. So this had been applied expertly, with her mousy hair, still quite short, arranged in an attractive bob with tweaked ends.

When she was brought to 11’s room, which was to become hers as well, the blindfold and the cuffs removed, it was hard to tell who was more shocked when they laid eyes on each other. Why? Well poor 11 had been assigned the role of damsel in distress. This was not difficult, for 11 foolishly continued to fight her incarceration. So 23 stared at her new companion, completely unaware that her history was almost identical to her own, but then she would find out soon.

Getting To Know Her Latex Playmate

Number 11 lay on her bed, a very fine Queen size with of course latex sheets and pillows, and it was the only bed in the suite, so sleeping arrangements for the two young women were quite clear. Her make-up and hair were perfect for she had not been allowed the opportunity to spoil it, as her arms had been pulled tight behind her back and laced into a heavy rubber monoglove. Her ankles had also been stretched behind her and attached by a short chain to a D ring at the end of her monoglove. She lay on her side squirming and mmmmfffing, for in her mouth had been crammed a large red rubber ball with full head harness. She was dressed similarly to 23, also in black latex stockings, a tight corset, a high posture collar and skimpy panties. But these were different as they were crotchless and 23 could see her pink pussy lips in plain view. Finally as she rolled around on the bed, a pleading look in her eyes, 23 could also see that under her panties between her cheeks was the outline of a curved baseplate, clearly 11 had also been thoroughly plugged in the rear.

Number 23 approached her, not quite sure what to do, despite all the mmmmffing from 11, who looked up to her and was shocked to see such a pretty girl similarly dressed as she was. Where was this going? The mistress watched intently as 23 sat by 11 and loosened the head harness and removed the large ball gag from her mouth. Then there was a moment’s silence, neither knowing what to say.

“Thanks, so, so what’s happening… ..who are you?”

“Well I’m er… .23, according to the brand on my arse.” She laughed nervously.

“No, no I mean your real name. Your real name.” Number 11 was getting frustrated, but number 23 took her time answering.

“Look, erm, it doesn’t matter who we were before, we’re here for good, okay? There is no hope of escape at all, none. I don’t know how long you’ve… ”

“Over a year, over a fucking year they’ve held me, but I’m not giving in, no I’m… ”

“Then, well I’m sorry, but you’re a fool. After you were abducted, did they, well, did they erm… ?”

“What? Turn me into a woman, surgery, the whole deal, yes, yes. I was a guy, I had a life, now I’m here, I can’t believe it, yes. Look at me, look at my pussy, my tits, jesus, you have no idea what it has been like.”

She was getting very upset. Number 23 looked down on her, knowing her own tight latex panties hid very little and her own enhanced boobs were stretching the limits of the bra portion of her tight corset.

“Well actually, I know exactly what it has been like… .’cos what you see here,” she pressed one hand to her boobs and one to the latex covering her pussy, “is all reassignment too. Yes, really. You see I was also abducted and forced to undergo surgery too, just like you, and I have to try and get used to this body that has been forced on me.” She took a breath. “Yeah, of course it’s been hard, but I can tell you one thing.” She looked sternly at 11. “They are not going to sew my cock and balls back on, or get rid of these.” She fondled her boobs.

“So here’s the deal, it’s not going to change. Get that into your head. This is not some weird sex game, all the rubber tranny stuff, this is for real, this is your life now. These people may be crazy, but they have millions, obviously, and we have become their playthings, and we can do nothing about it. Now you can lie here tied up in latex for the rest of your life feeling sad for yourself, up to you, or you can get on with it, hard though it may be.” She stared down at 11, appraising her female form. “That’s the cold hard facts. You can get whipped and cattle prodded, which is what I had at the start, or you can play their game, because frankly there is no alternative, we are completely powerless, just playthings to them. I’ve made that decision, and considering the alternative, ie none, it wasn’t too hard in the end. You just have to accept it.” There was silence for a good minute.

“Here, let me get you released, that looks uncomfortable.”

“Yes, well I’m quite used to it, oh oh thanks. It’s just been really hard. I wonder what they have in mind for us. Why put us together? Share the load I suppose.” They now sat together on the side of the bed as 11 rubbed her arms.

“I suppose you’re right, we’re stuck here for good, the security is ridiculous. Oh god, what a fucking mess. So anyway, I’m 11, as my brand will attest, we might as well stick with the numbers, as you say, what’s past is past and the quicker we get over it the better. Although it’s still going to take me a while.” She looked 23 over, a wry smile now on her face.

“You look pretty good I have to say, those boobs, I suppose you have implants as well?” Number 23 looked down at them.

“Yeah, there were days when I would have really loved to get my hands on a pair of these, now I can do it any time I want. Are you on the drugs and hormones as well?”

“Oh yeah, and I’ve probably lost 20 or 30 pounds, I still have trouble looking in the mirror and barely recognising myself. You know they brought in a lot of extra clothes the other day, so I figure they’re for both of us. We’re about the same height and shape, but I’m maybe just a little fuller in the erm, figure.” Despite herself she actually chuckled grimly.

Above them the mistress was ecstatic, it was working perfectly, 11 was now relaxing a bit and she hoped she would be more cooperative fairly soon, and serious training could begin soon. And 23 was a perfect partner for her, she would help her adapt and accept, things were definitely looking up.

“What do you think they want us to do? Have sex together or with them? I have a feeling they are going to get us to play some very weird games with them. And I have a feeling we’re going to be some sort of sex slaves. I actually don’t mind the latex, the rubber clothing, once it’s shined up it looks pretty good, but it’s not knowing what they have in for us, that really worries me.”

“Well we have each other now at least, yeah.” Replied 23 with a wry smile.

“Ha ha, yeah we do I suppose, but don’t start getting any ideas.” It was a bad joke but 23 chuckled anyway.

“Here, let me show you the place, might as well get used to it. The bed here is the only one, so… .I guess they expect we are sleeping together, that will take some getting used to, won’t it? In these closets and all these drawers are all the clothes, a lot of them, and all latex of course. The mistress seems to have a definite thing for it, and I don’t mind that at all really. You know the latex grips and clings nicely, and enhances the curves. Hell we’ve been given these bodies, and they look pretty good you know, so I suppose so I suppose she wants us to look as good as we can, right?” Number 23 looked at 11 and nodded.

“Yes, why not, not much option is there. I have had the cattle prod a few times and I don’t want any more of that. So… ..we may be transsexual prisoners here, dolled up in latex, but we can have some pride, some self esteem, sounds mad I know, but otherwise we just give in, and I won’t do that.”

Their mistress watched and listened, riveted at this almost anthropological study as the two men, now women, were to adjust to their lives with each other over the next weeks. She knew that this was a hard psychological test, and that is why she gave them time, she did not rush, after all she had years ahead to train and mould them.

Adjusting To Life As A Woman

It was as if there were a wall, a barrier between them, they were women now whose male brains were attracted to the other, naturally, but knowing that the other was of course a man. A hard conundrum to overcome, did that make them gay, did it make them lesbians? But it was number 23 who again seemed to make the adjustment easier, as she said very early on.

“The past is over, who we were, what we were is gone, forever, and we have to live for now, as who we are, women, that’s who we are now.” All very noble, but easier said than done, 11 thought.

And their mistress continued to spy on them, fascinated at the subtle, gradual changes in their relationship. The first night, almost shy, embarrassed even, after their first discussion, both women covered up their somewhat flimsy attire, 23 in a cool ankle length cape that 11 had suggested, and 11 in a flared dress. Then they had a light meal, talking calmly and coolly about their experience prior to and post their transformation. They both admitted they had not been the most pleasant of young men, they admitted that they enjoyed preying on women, but the revenge of their mistress had, needless to say, been more than a shock.

They discussed their piercings and their brandings which were very nasty, but also the strange sensation of having two large firm, and delicate breasts, a sensitive pussy, and an anal sphincter that seemed to have become more sensitive as well. Then they admitted equally bashfully that these sensations were not unpleasant, but would take time getting used to.

Soon it got dark – the apartment in the secure basement had barred and mirrored windows at ceiling height – and they had to prepare for bed. This was done in virtual silence, each using the bathroom, cautious of the presence of the other, turning their backs even as they undressed. Mistress was pleased, for this meant they were moving into the female mentality and not brazenly walking around like a man. Yes, progress was already being made.

As 11 lay in bed close to one edge, and naked under the latex sheet, she watched 23 rummage through a drawer of underwear and then don a pink latex bra, with peepholes for her pierced and shackled nipples, and then a pair of loose panties. She glanced at 11 and gave her a tight lipped smile.

“No, I’m not up for a baby doll set yet, but I have a nice pair of boobs here, and I propose to keep them firm for as long as I can. I know, weird, just call it self-esteem.” She chuckled drolly and then slid between the cool sheets, leaving at least a foot separating them. All was silence for a while as they both stared at the ceiling, almost suffocated with their own thoughts. It was 11 who spoke first, almost a whisper.

“I know it’s going to take time, but I’m very glad you are here. I was worried I would completely lose it, just go mad. I know it will make it easier… .for both of us, I think. Certainly for me.” There was silence again, and 23 smiled.

“Yes, I’m glad too.”

Gradually day by day, their mistress watched as a brick from the wall separating them from their natural psychologies was removed. Gradually they got used to each other, observing each other, being looked at, being more natural, not being embarrassed. Physically this was reflected in, night after night, the gap in the bed between them slowly narrowing.

During the day Mistress kept them quite busy, they had an extended exercise programme, with one room made into a gym, with several exercise machines, a cross walker, Nordic track, elliptical, so they kept in very good shape. The apartment had a fully equipped kitchen and provisions were provided, sometimes even a cooked meal, by way of a double-sided locked hatch. Everything was looked after for them. If they weren’t prisoners some might say it was a comfortable existence, but it wasn’t, for that is what they were, prisoners.

Latex Only

Generally, their mistress communicated by way of intercom, but occasionally she would come to the suite, always with her cattle prod and in the company of one of her “minders”. The entrance was usually quite dramatic as the young mistress liked to play the role of dominatrix, black rubber stockings, high heels, gloves and a rubber sheath knee-length dress.

After a couple of days she provided four rubber tube corsets, no zips, no laces. These she ordered the women to wear at all times during the day, there were a couple spare, for eventually the tubes would lose their strength. They were not so much for reducing the waist to an hour glass but they certainly gripped and accentuated the breasts and buttocks and were a permanent reminder of their station. The tubes extended from under the breasts to just above the pubis. They acted more for lumbar support, smoothing out the lines, and could be pulled up, with some help, or even rolled on. At first both 11 and 23 found them uncomfortable, it didn’t restrict their breathing a lot, but certainly affected their posture.

Mistress would talk encouragingly to them, commenting on deportment, dress sense and make-up and they would stand side by side, knowing that one day soon, their real training, for whatever she decided, would begin. But they could tell, as the days passed, that she was pleased with their progress.

One night 23 said.

“I think we should adopt names for ourselves, not numbers, at least between us, it will make us… more human, what do you think?” And 11 thought on this and nodded. “You are 11, well, what’s similar to that? Lev, elev, oliv, what about Olivia? What do you think?”

“Yes, yes, I like that - I am not a number, I am a free man - or woman, and not free but yes, I like that, but for you 23 is a mouthful isn’t it? Twenty, twen, hhmm, what about Tanya? A bit different, but I think it suits you.”

“Yes, yes, okay, it will take some getting used to, so well… pleased to meet you Olivia.”

“And you, Tanya.” Said Olivia and 23 saw her smile tentatively, for possibly the first time.

They now took more care in how they dressed, for appearances needed to be maintained, if only for self-esteem. Their shyness had gone completely and they were now becoming comfortable in their female nudity - and more importantly in their latex clothing. As they were of similar build they could interchange clothes and help each other select clothes for the evening, and this is what they did, even helping each other with make-up. At first they were a bit nervous with this, but soon adjusted, even to a degree enjoying it, just a bit.

Evenings were usually when they had time to themselves, for mornings and sometimes even the afternoons were set aside for the rigid exercise programme. They had TV, DVD’s, CD’s and books, many of these, not too subtly, had fetish, bondage and transvestite and transsexual themes, but as time wore on they became less shocked by them, and then more interested (and even faintly aroused) in the themes. It was indoctrination in a thinly disguised way. They were well aware of that, but went along with it anyway, well, one had to adapt.

And their mistress continued to watch the gradual transformation. One night she saw them in bed, and saw 23 turning on her side, almost accidently rubbing against 11, and then, aware of this, didn’t retract but began to spoon with 11 and passed a hand over 11’s side and sleepily cupping her rubber-encased breast. And instead of brushing it aside 11 placed her hand over it. That delighted their mistress, yes it was another step to the acceptance of their fate. They were women, they accepted that, and they were attractive, and now they were attractive to each other. All the barriers had been demolished now. A few days later as 23 adjusted her hair in a mirror, it was 11 this time who came behind her, locked eyes with her in the mirror and cupped both her breasts, rolling the nipple shackle through her fingers, and 23 replied with an encouraging smile.

Bodies To Explore

Very soon, their mistress thought, very soon they will be ready for their serious training. She had been thinking about this, preparing for it, for months, but patience was the critical issue, they had to be really comfortable with each other, as women, before she started, but she knew they were close.

One night, preparing to share their bed together, 23 said to 11.

“Olivia, have you gone so far as to… explore yourself yet, as a woman I mean? The mistress told me that the surgery is so advanced these days that, well, we don’t have clits of course, but they have constructed a sort of fake one, we’ll never orgasm like a woman but the nerve endings are supposed to be sensitive, you know.” 11 was quiet for a minute.

“I know, I can feel that little nubbin, but have been a bit shy about finding how far I could please, well, you know.” Number 23 said.

“I don’t see any reason to put it off now, do you? Look, erm, how about this. When we were, well before, I’m sure you had experience going down… knowing the buttons to push, right? I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time to test the waters, so to speak. It’s time we started to get some pleasure. How would you feel about me, erm, trying out my erm skills on your pussy, I don’t think I’ve forgotten the general idea. Come on, this is what we liked to do, there’s not much difference now, is there, except we’re both women.” Number 11 thought on this for a while, well why not, she thought. They were going to be together for, well how long, forever?

“Yes, yes, I think it’s time we started to get to know, seriously, our bodies. I had almost given up hope really of getting pleasure, but who knows, maybe some satisfaction can be had from all this… so if you are game, see if your skills can work their wonders on me. I have to say I’m a bit nervous about all this, I have now idea how I am put together, so we have to take it slowly.”

“Fine by me, we just have to close our eyes, and all the weird stuff going through our brains, and feel, yes? Okay, relax and lie back, much as I like your pink panties, they’ll be coming off.”

Number 11 lay back nervously on the latex sheets, and 23 knelt between her legs, 23 was wearing her rubber support bra and a pair of gossamer thin transparent rubber harem pants, that she had taken a liking to. They hid nothing and 11 could see her pussy clearly underneath and wondered rather guiltily, when it would be her turn. Number 23 settled between 11’s legs and took a deep breath.

“All right, panties off.” She gently edged 11’s panties over her hips, down her legs, and then tossed them on the bed. Then she placed her hands on 11’s knees, spread them and dipped her head to 11’s bald pussy.

“Mmm, well it really does look like the real thing, not bad at all, but does it behave like the real thing?” She dipped her head. “Mmmm, quite yummy, sweet and pink and soft,” she parted the lips tenderly, “and just a little moist, and look here, a hard little nubbin.” She placed the end of her tongue over it, and 11 immediately gasped, then 23 ran her tongue up and down her labia, allowing the large steel stud locked onto her tongue to tickle the inside of her pussy.

“Mmm, very nice, I suppose I shouldn’t commend the surgeon, but you have a delectable pussy here, there is no discernible perfume or taste, just sweet succulent fruit.” Now 11 was gripping the latex sheet.

“I didn’t know what to expect, perhaps nothing, but it’s not like that at all, everything is so… sensitive, the nerve endings are sending electric currents over my body, it’s very strange, but… very nice, ooooh yes, very nice. You are very good, you know.”

“Well… let’s keep on, and see what happens.” And 23 did, lapping, licking and nibbling, stretching 11’s legs wider, and 11 then began to massage her own breasts and stroke 23’s hair. Finally after a good ten minutes she shook and shivered and gasped. Number 23 sat back on her haunches, a rather self-satisfied smile on her face, the area surrounding her mouth glistening.

“Well, from my angle that was pretty good, quite fun. You know you worked up some juices there, that was really tasty overall… so… how about you? Tell me.”

“I know I can’t have a proper… but it was a strange sensation, all electric, like current pulsing through me, but it was very… erm, well nice, yes. It was really very erm good, yes.” She took a deep breath, and a faint smile crossed her face. “So there is life after the… yeah hey, thanks, you were great. Look, do you want to try now, I mean see how it feels for… ”

“Are you kidding, after your endorsement.” She began to pull her thin harem pants down.

“No, leave them on, I really like you in them, and hey, they don’t hide much.” She pulled her panties back on, and now lay back on the bed.

“Shit, I can’t wait, come on.” And 11 dropped her head onto the wafer thin rubber covering 23’s pussy, pressing hard and breathing in the pungent rubber, and then she pushed her tongue hard onto the rubber, pressing it into 23, easing it past her labia. Now she spread her legs and eased down the thin delicate rubber and rubbed her nose up and down the labia. And so it proceeded until it was 23 who was shaking and breathing fast.

Half an hour later, they were in bed, latex clothed and comforted by the latex sheet, 11 in support bra and panties and 23 in bra and harem pants. There was no longer a gap between their sleeping forms, in fact their tired bodies were entwined.

Watching the screen, their mistress was delighted.

“Perfect, perfect, they are as one, complete trust in each other, perhaps even affection, they will need that and more, now the serious training starts tomorrow.”

Dressing For Dressage

Pony play is one of the most popular pursuits of fetishists and those in the BDSM scene. Pony girls (and boys) in full harness, bridled and bitted, booted, hoofed and tailed (with butt plug, even better), in leather or latex is a sight to behold. Most of this play involves show ponies, and races - single ponies or sometimes in pairs. But this sport didn’t appeal to 11 and 23’s mistress greatly. What she was interested in was the ultimate in horse training and discipline, dressage.

It is difficult enough to train a single pony in the rigours of the discipline. But to train two ponies (or in this case, women) to perform intricate manoeuvres as if they were one, is extremely difficult, both on the patience of the trainer and the ability and willingness of the two female equines. But this is what the mistress had planned, and there was no question in her mind that, no matter how long it would take and how hard it would be for the unfortunate fillies, she would succeed, for her intention was that one day she would show her ponies to the Club, during one of their weekends.

As was the custom, when their mistress entered their quarters, followed by her minder, the women stood at the end of the bed, arms behind their backs, legs slightly apart. They were now used to this. But the sight of their mistress brought a communal intake of breath. She looked stunning in a latex dressage outfit, white jodhpurs tucked into knee-high leather boots, white long sleeved shirt buttoned to the collar, black gloves and an open three quarter length top coat in brilliant black. Her hair was drawn back in a loose pony tail and her make-up was perfect. The minder had two suitcases and placed them on the bed, then opened them. As per her orders the two young women were dressed only in their rubber corset tubes, and these were new and slightly tighter again. Their make-up was perfect as well and their hair hung loose.

She sauntered between them, then around them, a slim smile on her face, stroking their flesh, running her hands down the tight tubes constricting their waists. She came in front, a hand cupped over their pubis, the middle finger now rubbing their sensitive labia. They didn’t move, they didn’t resist, just breathed slowly, as calmly as possible, very aware of her ultimate power over them.

“Oh look at you, how you have changed,” she chuckled, “agreeable slim waists now, wonderful breasts and sweet soft pussies, very fuckable, hhmm. And you’re getting to know each other, so to speak, and that’s good, you’ll need each other for comfort and support.” She broadened her smile as her latex covered middle finger broached their labia and entered them. “You really are both very attractive. But we have work to do, as you can see from my costume we are going to play ponies, not race ponies but dressage, so you have many weeks or even months of training ahead of you before I show you off to the members.”

She withdrew her fingers and placed them at the lips of both girls and cocked her head to one side. The young women dutifully licked and sucked the rubber digit. Such was the power of the mistress, sometimes nothing needed to be said, all that was required was complete blind obediance.

“When we are finished you will be as a single pony, you will behave in perfect unison, acting as one, thinking as one, well, as much as a dumb obedient pony can think.” She stopped and stroked their cheeks. “It is up to you how long it takes, like all training it will be by reward and punishment, the carrot or the stick, which is up to you. Do well and I will treat you fairly, don’t and it will be painful, simple. You know by now there will never be a chance of escape from all this, so the advisable route is to make your lives as pleasant, or at least less unpleasant as possible. You know,” she smiled, “life could be a lot worse for you, there is really no limit to the opportunities for piercing or branding.” She felt 11 shiver under her touch, as their mistress coolly set out the “downside” for them. There was no question in their minds that she was not joking.

“For example,” she continued coolly, “I could have you pierced here, through your succulent labia, say three times each side, nice round punctures to accommodate a steel grommet. Then I could sew you up with some steel wire, or connect them with rings, so you wouldn’t be able to play with yourself, or each other, haha. You could pee of course, but its function would end there.”

She ran a rubber finger over 23’s lips. “Or I could do the same here, some rings along the upper and lower lips and then sew them together, for a nice tight seal, hhmm that would keep you quiet for a while. You see? And your tongue allows lots of opportunities for further piercing, hhmm. Or branding even, lots of flesh available for that. So just think on that, when you feel a bit sorry for yourselves, it could be a lot worse. And so I want… I require you to be obedient dressage ponies, it might sound impossible now, but I’m sure you will even surprise yourselves.”

During this speech she had continued to move around them, brushing her latex dress coat against them, running her gloved hands over them, cupping their breasts, exploring the narrowness of their cinched waists. Even sliding fingers between their buttock cheeks and pressing it over their sphincters. They did well to retain their composure. She was, of course, delighting in her power over them, enforcing their submissive role. She stroked their buttocks again, and continued to slide a finger up and down their cracks, watching them shiver with the contact.

“These two cases here contain your dressage training uniforms, latex of course and full horse tack – harnesses, bridle, bit, hoof boots, tail ha ha, identical for both of you, but as you are by design almost identical in size and shape, also interchangeable. Today I will help you get fully dressed, and you will help each other, for after today when I arrive in the morning I expect you fully attired, except for the back prayer, but I will explain that as we go along. So pay full attention as this will be explained only once. Open the cases now and arrange everything on the bed here.”

They did so, it had been a sobering speech, and so, obediently, they each emptied the case and spread the contents out. As they each picked up an item of latex or leather or steel they inspected them, but each item was fairly self-explanatory, and they glanced at each other with some trepidation.

“I have a weakness for pinto horses, so the major item you see there is the what? Foundation item? A full body latex body suit in beautiful black and white, that will fit you like a well-tailored glove, put them on now, there is some talcum here. You’d better get used to dusting each other, as you will be dressing each other. Anyway, I think you know each other’s bodies by now, don’t you, ha ha?”

Silently they talced each other, trying not to make eye contact, and wary of their mistress studying them. They slid their slim, shapely legs into the leggings, drawing the silky latex over their calves, thighs, and then squeezing their hips over their waists into the narrow mid-section. They saw immediately the holes opposite their pussy and arse and drawing them higher pushed their arms into the tapered sleeves. Then they noted, without any real surprise, the holes at the nipples of the suit. The zip began in the small of the back and they each helped the other to draw it up to the high collar of the suit.

“Good, now smooth everything out, I won’t tolerate a wrinkle anywhere. Pull the shackles of your nipples through, and align properly, like this.” She pulled hard on the shackles of number 23’s nipples, who winced in pain.

“Oh stop being a big baby, you’d better get used to this treatment fast, I could just as easily attach a half pound weight to these beauties, then you’d have something to really moan about. You’ll feel that the breast cups are of thicker rubber, to support those wonderful breasts of yours. Good, now align the holes down here with your cute pussies and bottoms… excellent. My, you look better than I had even anticipated.”

Silently both 11 and 23 had to admit they looked quite splendid. Over the months they had got used to looking at their female forms, and also used to latex – the smooth comforting embrace, the warm grip – and these suits were superbly designed, and their breasts were positively thrust out over their narrow waists. They were prisoners, latex captives, soon forced to be female ponies and yet, and yet, the suits made them feel, well, sexy. It was hard for them to fathom this.

“All right the hoof boots now. They’re knee high in the supplest leather matching the colour of your suit, and inside they have an internal heel of three inches. Outside you can see a hoof shaped base for the front third of your foot, so keeping balance will not be a problem. Lace them up now.”

They did so, and were surprised to feel how comfortable they were, a perfect fit. They stood, a little wobbly at first, and then found their balance quickly. Their mistress smiled.

“Now the masks. I have thought hard about this, you are really very attractive, both of you, very feminine now, I’m sure you’ve noticed that, and when you make your entrance as fully trained dressage ponies at one of our weekends I think I will have you unmasked. Well I have to show the members what you once were, who you once were, young men, and how I have transformed you into two very attractive females, haven’t I, ha ha? Your hair will be longer then and we can put it in a ponytail, very appropriate ha ha. But for training I nned you masked, for after all you are not individuals anymore, not even human, but identical, obedient ponies, indistinguishable from each other. So on with the masks.”

Number 11 held the first mask open and 23 dipped her head into it, breathing in the sweet aroma. She then raised her head and 11 zipped it down, and without instruction from her mistress tucked it under the collar of the suit for a nice seal. Number 23 adjusted it slightly and immediately felt quite comfortable with the snug embrace; it had eye and nostril holes and a large wide mouth. Number 23 now reciprocated and soon 11 was fully concealed in the black and white latex. They were like identical twins, rubber twins, only their hands were uncovered.

“Now get used to the feel of it, you will be wearing this for some considerable time, run your hands over it, and your partner of course.” They knew that this was not a request, but an order and so facing each other ran their hands over the silky smooth surface of the suits and masks. They quickly locked eyes and 11 could see the very faintest of nods from 23, which seemed to say, well this isn’t too bad, and remember what we agreed to, to take pleasure where we could.

Soon they almost forgot the mistress as they leant into each other and hands smoothed and pressed out the creases, and then started to fondle buttocks and breasts. Their mistress didn’t discourage this, on the contrary, she wanted them to form a bond, only then would they be the perfect dressage duo. There was no harm in them taking pleasure in each other’s bodies, so she allowed them these few seconds of mutual satisfaction. They had come a long way all right, she thought as she watched them stroke each other through their drum tight latex suits, eyes closed and now breathing quicker, almost seemingly unaware of her presence, or at least not showing it.

“All right, enough of that now, you can carry on later tonight, ha ha and I’m sure you will, excellent, now the body harness, and you’ll see it’s quite a complex series of straps, buckles and of course the waist belt. All these will connect with your posture collar into one seamless harness, take time in learning its design.” And she watched as they turned the leather and steel items over in their hands.

The waist belt came first. This was four inches wide at the sides and back but extended upwards and cupped the breasts. Between the breasts was a large steel ring and two straps from this passed over the shoulders, crossed and attached to the rear of the belt which also extended upwards to below the shoulder blades. Also attached to the central ring was a single strap that would connect with a ring on the front of the leather posture collar. Further support for the breasts was provided by additional straps at the sides near the armpits that also attached to the collar. Soon they had figured this all out, and without instructions from their mistress they then placed the collars around each other’s necks and buckled them at the rear.

Although it might be termed a posture collar, in fact it wasn’t that restraining and they did have movement in all directions, but they would find that once the bridle and harness was fitted then it would become more restrictive. Now their mistress became more attentive as they tightened the straps and adjusted the buckles, and soon they found that when all the slack had been taken out of the straps and collar and belt adjusted, it was as if they were all one very efficient single restrictive garment. Their mistress inspected them now, testing the straps, slipping a finger between waist and belt. She tightened a couple of straps, but generally the women could see that she was quite impressed.

“Well we’re getting there, not finished yet, but it’s looking very good indeed. Now the bridle and bit. You won’t quite like this as much but you will get used to it, I’m sure.” They knew it was far too late to resist now and inspected their bridles, quickly understanding how they were to be worn. Number 23 pointed to herself, as if to say me first, and 11 nodded.

It comprised a series of supple narrow leather straps and steel rings and buckles. One encircled the head at the level above the eyebrows, another crossed over the crown and attached to the posture collar at the rear, while a third extended from the temple down the cheek and under the chin and through a loop in the collar. This vertical strap had, adjacent to the outside of the eyes, two curved leather oval blinkers with foam rubber in the interior, these were able to swivel inwards on a steel attachment and lock over the bridge of the nose, rendering the wearer utterly blind. The two steel rings on which the bit would be attached were on a final strap attached to the rear of the collar and also the vertical strap down both cheeks.

Number 11 took her time, first getting it all in place before adjusting the leather loops in the steel rings and then slowly, hole by hole drawing in the straps and buckling them. Number 23 stood obediently, hands behind back. Number 11 kept nodding, as if saying okay? and 23 nodded in return. When satisfied, 11 looked at their mistress and she approached and tested the straps, then gave 11 an appreciative nod in return.

“Not bad, not bad at all 11. All right your turn now, get on with it, 23.” For 23 it was a slightly harder task, being hampered in her head movements by the bridle. When added to the constraints imposed by the collar, belt and harnesses she had quickly found that her movements had become, little by little, more limited.

But soon she was successful, and again their mistress checked all the straps, pulling in a couple an extra notch. The bits came next and the two women knew these would be not so pleasant, but first 11 opened her mouth allowing 23 to place the rubber covered steel rod between her lips, then press further in and attach either side to the steel ring adjacent to the cheek. There was a little gurgling and aaaahhing but quickly the bit was locked firmly between the teeth. Again 23 obediently opened her mouth and 11 obliged. Now their mistress completed the face harness herself, first taking two links of chain and attaching one to the septum grommet of each woman. The second loop now dangled above the bit, and taking a short thin chain and with the help of a pair of tweezers she looped this through the second link and attached the ends of the chain to the ring holding their bits. While this may have looked attractive jewellery it also had a purpose, adding additional control for the mistress through her reins. Just the most infinitesimal drag on the reins would exert significant discomfort on the ponies’ noses.

Next were the mittens, again in black and white latex, and in complete silence 11 slipped her hands into the mittens and allowed 23 to buckle them tight at the wrists. They allowed some movement of the fingers inside and 11 was able to pull the straps tight on 23’s wrists. At the end of each mitt was a steel ring.

“Now this is another bit you won’t like, my beauties.” She started with 11, and drew her arms behind her back and then up towards her neck. Soon 11 resisted, but their mistress threaded a link of steel chain through a ring on the rear of the collar, then drew 11’s wrists higher and clipped a self-closing D-ring to the ring at the end of one mitt, and then the other. 11 quickly realised she could barely move her arms, and her wrists were maybe 6 to 8 inches below her collar. Their mistress tested the slack.

“Plenty of slack here but for today and maybe a couple more days we’ll leave it like that. There are, let me see, two, four, six… ..fourteen links in this chain. When you are near the end of your training there will be no more than four. And I have a nice monoglove that will pull your forearms almost together, you won’t believe how flexible you will be by the end of your training.” Number 11 groaned in discomfort.

“Oh, yes, you’ll become a lot more malleable, it will take time and after each session I’ll give you some cream to massage into your muscles, because they will be sore. I’m sure you’ll like doing that to your friend here.” Well 11 could believe that all right, but she didn’t have long to dwell as she watched the same procedure being applied to 23.

“Now a little bit of jewellery, before the final and most important item you will wear and with which I will control you.” And she clipped two small bells to the nipple shackles of the women and stood back, admiring her work.

“Yes, hmm, very pretty. Now both of you bend over the bed here, I’m sure you know what’s coming as you have seen them on the bed. But as I am inserting them into you, I will explain them in detail, for there is a lot more to them than you might imagine, a lot more.” Submissively they bent over the bed, side by side, their bells tinkling, and spread their hooved feet for balance.

Their mistress, rather theatrically, picked up two butt plugs, not enormous but still a good size. Their bases were curved and would settle snugly between the buttocks. The necks were narrow so the women’s’ tight muscles would not be stretched unduly, but above the necks there was a good sized pear-shaped plug. In the curved base plate was a plastic thimble-like thread, able to accommodate the screw of an additional attachment, and both women had a fairly good idea what that would be.

“There’s no easy way to do this, ha ha, just steady firm pressure from me, and relaxing from you, at least as much as you can. I don’t intend to injure you, which would be pointless, so I will take plenty of time, and let your muscles loosen. Now 11 is familiar with these, in her early days here she was a bit of a rebel, so spent some time with these up her pretty rear and some bigger than this, but since you’ve been here 23, 11 has been behaving a lot better haven’t you 11? So it will be a lot more uncomfortable for you, 23, and I assume your virgin anal passage. Have you had anal pleasure before, 23? No? You know, lots of girls like it, and you might be one of them, so don’t expect the worst, just relax and nice slow breaths. Okay, so I’ll lube them up and in a second you’ll feel the cool, creamy end of the plug. The natural inclination is to clench your cheeks but that won’t help at all, so just keep calm.”

Because of the rigidity of the harnesses, collars, belts and bits the two women could only look down at the bed, not even glance at each other, so they were unable to share their discomfort, but simultaneously they felt the cool tip of the plug at their tight sphincters, although 11’s was not quite so tight. Breathing as calmly as possible, 23 cringed as she felt the intruder inexorably stretch her muscle and move gradually inside her.

“Aaaaah, aaah, aaah.” She wailed as saliva dripped from her stretched mouth, while 11 beside her remained quiet, no doubt used to this unpleasant mistreatment. In fact she made no sound or movement at all, and the only feeling she really felt was sympathy for her friend.

As the large plug continued its invasion 23 had time to reflect on her position.

There was a time, she thought, when I would have been at the other end of a tasty bit of anal penetration. The girl on all fours, me sliding in and out of her, and then when the mood took me, sliding out, taking a tighter grip of her hips and then pressing against her tight, perhaps virgin, rosebud and using her own juices as lubrication thrusting into her. No, some of them didn’t like it much, but that didn’t worry me then, yes, I suppose I was a bastard, because having this shoved up my bum is going to need some getting used to. But then that is what I have to do, I’m now a woman for god’s sake, but not a bad looking one.

She actually chuckled at the sweet irony.

If I was me in the past, I would have rather fancied me now, so I suppose I deserve what’s coming. But Olivia, yes I have to think of her as Olivia, is not bad looking either. And, just to be a bit graphic, a tasty pussy, and so have I apparently, now there’s an irony. We’re getting on fine now, considering everything, the embarrassment has gone and even in bed we’re more comfortable with each other, and our new bodies. The latex isn’t a problem, it actually does something for the female form, squeezes it in or pushes it out in all the right places. I was actually starting to get used to it all, my body, Olivia’s body, the latex, the dressing and now our mistress wants to transform us into ponies, latex ponies to be shown off to their Club. It gets stranger by the day, but the security is huge here, so like before we’ll have to accept it, at least we have each other. So we’ll make a go of it, what else is there to do? Ow, ooooh, sheez, she’s splitting me in two!

By now the plug was at its widest and stretching her sphincter painfully, then “plop” and it was in, and the muscle gripped the narrow neck of the plug. Although her anal passage was now thoroughly plugged she almost felt relief, as her mistress twisted the curved base until it nestled snugly between her cheeks. They both now stood, feeling the plugs settle within their sensitive rear passages. Then she took a short chain and attached it to the thimble like attachment on the base plate and connect it to the belts at the rear. The thimble now was turned up at a 45 degree angle. Into the thimble she now screwed the narrow base of the pony tails. The tails were about 12 inches long and one screwed tight sprouted upwards and then down to rest against their latex covered buttocks.

“Perfect. I have to say I’m a bit surprised at how quickly you have both picked this up.” She smiled and as a final touch, clipped a large steel disc with their numbers 11 and 23 and the Club crest, onto the front ring of their collars.

She could barely contain her excitement. These two beautiful women, pony girls, were now ready for their first day of training.

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11.05.17