index


Message-ID: <42503asstr$1053169806@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: AllMe Archives <editors@OUTRAGE.allme.com>
User-Agent: MT-NewsWatcher/3.2 (PPC Mac OS X)
Subject: {ASSM} Three Ponies {Libertine} (F pony anal best)
Date: Sat, 17 May 2003 07:10:06 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


---------------------------------------------------------------------
More Libertine sex stories at http://allme.com/stories/libertine/?nsg
---------------------------------------------------------------------


"Three Ponies"
    by Libertine


My fiance Benito, was very busy before the elections, both at
the restaurant and as a block captain for the Conservative
Christian Party.  He promised me we would get married as soon as
possible after the election.  I spent my lonely nights watching
TV, especially Paola, Fredericka, and Bianca, female "talking
heads" who always took the Leftist view. No party won a majority,
but the CCP got enough seats in the parliament that they were
accepted into the coalition government.  Their price was two
ministries, Justice and Defense.

Soon Paola disappeared.  The Ministry of Justice said that her
clothes had been found in a small boat drifting in the Adriatic,
and she was presumed drowned, either by accident or suicide.  Two
days later, Fredericka, the one with the bleached blonde hair, 
disappeared from the TV, and the tabloid newspapers, citing
unnamed official sources, said she had embezzeled money and fled
to Russia.  A week later, Bianca, probably the prettiest of the
three, disappeared.  It was said that she had abandoned her
husband and children and run off with a wealthy Argentinian
capitalist.  Of course there was a lot of gossip about immoral
communists, but most people, on the right and the left, seemed to
accept that these strange coincidences happen.

The next month, Benito and I were married, even though I had a
cast on my leg from a nasty fall. He had arranged a honeymoon at
a remote island resort. After a change of planes, we arrived by
boat after dark. I could see that there was an ancient looking
village with a castle on the shore of a small harbor, very
picturesque. We had a little cottage, very private, and Benito
went out of his way to make our wedding night pleasant and
memorable. We skipped breakfast, but Benito said we must get up
to attend a lecture on the Duties of a Christian Wife. It was
then I realized that our visit had strings attached. The whole
island was owned by the Conservative Christian Party, and
everyone we saw or met was active in the party. It was kind of
spooky, especially when we went to dinner, the noon meal. The
meal was buffet style, but all the  workers, in the kitchen or
carrying food to the dining room, were women, dressed in
identical black dresses, not really dresses, more like burlap
sacks, a very rough fabric, with holes cut for neck and arms. 
They were ankle-length, and the women, whether teen-age or
middle aged or something in between, were barefoot, and they all
had wedding rings!

When I mentioned it to Benito, he explained that all the workers
were wives of party members who needed remedial instruction in
their wifely duties. That really made me shiver.

Our schedule was all mapped out for us. Apparently all the
honeymooners get the same itinerary, visits to shrines and
monuments and lectures. However, I couldn't walk up to the
hilltop shrine of St. Basil, so Benito said he'd get us a pony
cart.

The cart was metal, a bench seat for two with a foot rest and
wire-spoked wheels, like a motorcycle's. A tubular shaft went
forward to a crossbar, where the ponies were hitched. The
surprise was that the ponies, three of them, were women!   They
wore leather helmets which also covered the upper part of the
face, with only a sort of oval tube in front of the eyes, which
would allow the "pony" to see directly ahead and down. The
helmets were decorated with plumes, red, blue, and green, the
names of the ponies. The helmets also had bridles, with an iron
bit in the mouth. I wondered why a bit but no reins. Benito
noted the bit made speech impossible. Each woman wore a wide,
tight black belt around her waist. Her wrists had leather cuffs
which attached to the belt above each hip, so her arms were
useless. Her lower legs were enclosed in black boots of a strange
style. Judging from the length, the woman's toes were pointed
down, like with very high heels, but foot of the boot was not
shaped like a foot. Rather it resembled a horse's hoof, and I
wondered if it was possible to walk in them, unless one was held
upright by the cart harness, for it would have been like walking
on stilts. The harness was simple. The tubular crossbar pressed
against the back of the thigh, just at the crease of the
buttocks, and from there a wide leather strap --- it smelled of
urine --- went forward between the legs and attached at the belt.

The strap covered the genital area and, I was certain, when the
pony pulled forward, that the propulsive force must come from the
pressure of her vulva against the strap. The anal region was
covered by a horse-like tail, red, blue, or green, which, it
seemed, must be attached to some sort of object embedded in the
rectum. There would be no need to clean up pony manure. 
Otherwise the ponies were naked, except for the breasts. The
central part of each breast was covered by a black metal cup,
bullet shaped, which seemed firmly attached, but it was not
evident how. I thought of glue, or perhaps a vacuum holding the
cup against the breast. Benito said it was possible they were
mechanically attached, as with nails driven into the breast
tissue. I shuddered to think of it. There was a buggy whip in
a socket next to the seat, but there was no need to use it. The
ponies, muscular, sun tanned, were well trained, and it was only
necessary for Benito to say, "Take us to St. Basil's", and off
they went.

For most of the way, there was a smooth path, a bit wider than
the cart. They moved out at a good pace, where the path was
fairly level, but when we came to a hill, the three of them had
to lean into their work to pull up uphill. I marveled at their
well developed thigh muscles as they strained to pull us. The
slope was so steep that we were tilted back in our seats, and I
wondered if my skirt preserved my modesty. A Christian woman
does not wear garments which "divide the legs", and I couldn't
have put on slacks over my cast, anyway. I kept my knees pressed
together. Near the top, sweating with exertion, the ponies
stopped for a moment, taking deep breaths. Had I not been so
innocent, I should have realized that the pressure of the straps
had given each one multiple orgasms!  Benito impatiently cracked
the whip, first in the air and then against Blue's bare buttock. 
The ponies resumed their work.

At last we came near the shrine, but the path went no further;
there were steps which blocked the progress of the cart. Benito
jumped out and said, "Julia, my dear, you can't possibly climb
the steps. Wait here while I go and see the shrine."  The ponies
just stood there, balancing on their hooves, nearly motionless.

As soon as Benito was out of sight, I climbed down, and hobbled
toward where I could get a better view of the sea. Blue, as I
passed, started to cough and gag, heaving her metal-clad breasts
as if she couldn't breathe. With the weights on them, they swung
like bells in a wind storm. Concerned, I loosened Blue's bridle
and bit, which instantly solved her breathing problem. "Thank
you so much," she said. "The bit is so uncomfortable."

"Somehow, I didn't expect you to speak," I said, stupidly. "How
did you come to have a job like this?"

"I used to be a television personality. I was known as Bianca. 
The fascists kidnapped me and told me that a communist, who was
always concerned for the working class, was a hypocrite if she
earned a huge salary for talking. I should experience work
myself. Red is Fredricka, and Green is Paola. They say we will
never leave this island. Since our faces are covered, very few
know who we are, and they won't tell."

It dawned on me that, if one controlled the Ministry of Justice
and all the police, such a thing was possible. "They just put
you into harness?"

"No, we were broken, first."  I nodded to her to go on. "I woke
up naked, with my head and body hair all shaved, suspended by my
wrists from that gallows-like frame you must have noticed in the
plaza, by the harbor. My head was covered, as it is now, but
with my eyes covered, too, so I could not see, but I could hear
people, men,  all around me, talking, calling me a communist slut
and things like that. I was so embarrassed, naked in public like
that. But it got worse. They forced me to drink castor oil, and
as I hung there in the sun, with my ankles tied together, I could
not help shitting, soiling myself while the men laughed.

"After that, they took me down and spread-eagled me on a
gridiron, criss-crossed iron bars, and they put me into some sort
of tank, in the harbor, with just my head above water. It was
awful. I could feel eels slithering across my body. Starfish
crawled over my skin with their little sucker feet, and crabs. A
squid wrapped its tentacles around my breast and tried to eat my
nipple off, but somehow it couldn't. You know how octopuses hide
in cracks in the sea floor?  An octopus took up residence in my
vagina! I could feel it going in and out as it ambushed it's prey
and then retreated to it's hiding place to eat. They left me
there all night. In the morning, I was desperately thirsty, and
my skin was all wrinkled from immersion in the sea water. They
laughed and hosed me off and said I could have a drink, up the
ass. The put the hose against my anus and forced water into me
until I thought I would burst, and I could hear men joking about
how much I could take. Then, of course, I expelled the water in a
great gush, and the men laughed and laughed and made my torturers
do it over and over."

"Then they took me to a sort of barrel or pipe on short legs. 
They bent me over and pushed my upper body into the barrel,
pulling my breasts through holes in the wall of the pipe. They
put rope nooses over my breasts so I couldn't move. My hips and
bottom, of course, were obscenely displayed, and they forced my
legs apart and tied them, so any spectator could see my most
private orifices. Then they brought out a big dog and sprayed my
bottom with bitch scent. I couldn't see the dog, but he must
have been huge, for he got up, his forelegs grasping the barrel,
and pushed his huge cock into my vagina. At first, it was only
uncomfortable, and very humiliating, to be raped with a dog's
penis the size of baguette, but when it swelled up, so big he
couldn't pull it out, I was in real pain. It seemed forever,
that he ravished me and squirted liters of semen into me, while
the men joked and laughed. He could not, you see, remove his
penis until the swelling went down. I didn't think anything
could be worse than that, but they brought out another dog, and
they pressed his long, pointed penis against my anus. I was, by
this time, sobbing hopelessly and crying that they were tearing
my anus, but of course that didn't stop them."

"When the second dog was finally able to pull out, I was
convinced they would stop torturing me, but they had other ideas.
They brought out a small horse and induced him to mount the
barrel as he would a mare. His member must have been the size of
my forearm, and it would surely have torn my uterus loose, if he
put it in my vagina. However, they steered it into my ass, and
he must have pushed 50 centimeters into my bowels. I was
bleeding and almost insane with pain when he finally withdrew; my
anus was torn and gaping open. They packed it with medicated
gauze and led me to the stables."

"The three of us live in the stables, sleeping in the straw of
our stalls. By day we pull this cart. By night, we are fucked
by many men; we never see their faces. They say that if a pony
complains, they'll give us to the stallion again. I will do
anything to avoid that. My anus, now, is about 4 cm. in
diameter, with nothing plugging it, and the tail I'm wearing, day
and night, is attached to a plug about 8 cm. in diameter, at the
opening, bigger inside. Normal defecation is impossible, but they
hose us out every day, before they put the tail back in for the
day."

There were so many questions I wanted to ask, like about the
metal breast covers and if they ever released her hands and did
she have a chance to bathe, but I saw Benito coming, and I had to
put the bit back in her mouth before he saw what I had done.

The downhill ponycart ride was uneventful, if you think that
watching Blue leaning back against the crossbar and seeing their
breasts swaying, and imagining what their clitorises must be like
after all that rubbing with a rough leather strap is not an
event.  When we got back to Rome, I made an excuse to visit my
mother. I dare not tell my story, that I know where the three
leftist news readers really are. I don't think I want to go back
to my husband, Benito, but the CCP-run Justice Ministry has made
it almost impossible for a wife to leave her husband, and I know
that, if I tried to escape and failed, Benito would not hesitate
to send me for "re-education" on the island. The thought of that
rough fabric rubbing my nipples while I wash thousands of dishes
is enough to make me submissive, as a good Christian wife should
be.


                          -- The End --


---------------------------------------------------------------------
-----| This story is protected by international copyright law, |-----
-----| rights not expressly waived are reserved by its author. |-----
---------------------------------------------------------------------
---------| Feedback? send mailto:editors@allme.OUTRAGE.com |---------
---------| note: be sure to remove any ".outrage" to reply |---------
---------| and we'll forward your comments to the author.  |---------
---------------------------------------------------------------------
More Libertine sex stories at http://allme.com/stories/libertine/?nsg
---------------------------------------------------------------------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}|
|Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org>      |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+