RIGHTFUL RETRIEVAL

By Charles E. Campbell

   I remember that day as if it was only yesterday. But if truth be told, it was actually a little over eleven months ago. It was Friday, August 9th. I had just finished the final touches on a complete set of plans for the rebuild and renovation of an estate in Westport, Connecticut. Fantastic property, three plus acres right on Long Island Sound. Pool, private beach, dock, mooring, tennis court, very top notch. My fee for the drawings would net me over a quarter of a million dollars. I was in the mood for just vegging out after the stress from all the deadlines and viewing some "different" porn. So I was casually perusing the bestiality sites, amazed by the diverse array of animals employed, from fish and fowl to reptiles and mammals.

   I was just about to click on a screen when a blurred image caught my eye. My reaction was a stereotypical one you might see from an over emoting 1930's actor doing a double take. I shook my head and blinked as I came to the realization that the grainy picture I was seeing was someone I knew!

   She looked different, certainly. The long chestnut hair I recalled was gone, replaced by an unkempt greasy very short bottle blond mess. I couldn't see her face, as the camera angle was directed to show the thick horse cock she was fellating. Her hands were busy milking the horse as she sucked, and when the stallion came, he erupted with such force that horse cum shot out of her nose. She struggled to swallow as much of it as she could. It was Didi! Believe it or not, I was able to recognize her by the surgical scar on her left ankle. The last time I had seen her was fourteen years before.

   Now, before I continue relating this story to you, for the sake of accuracy, and candor, I must get something off my chest right away. At one time, Didi had been mine. I owned her in the truest sense of the word. Even had the legal paperwork to prove it. But I sold her. SOLD her. Well, to be perfectly honest, I traded her for a car and some money. It was a 1948 MGTC, British Racing Green, total ground up factory mint restoration. Plus fifty thousand cash. What can I tell you. The guy who brokered the deal was an old friend and knew my weak spot.

   Anyway, the last time I had seen her, she was on her knees and had just finished sucking my dick, draining it, and licking it clean. I stood up and waited while she dutifully pulled up my jeans, buckled my belt, and zippered me back up. I took one last look down at her flawless face, and with the back of my right hand, slapped her hard across the face, knocking her to the floor. Never laid eyes on her again until I happened on that grainy bestiality tube video.

  I pulled up some photos and videos of Didi that I still had archived in my computer to compare the slave I knew, from the images I had just seen. To say that there had been a change in her in the years since I sold her would be kind. She had aged about three years for every one calendar year that had passed.

   My photos showed a striking young woman of twenty-eight. Statuesque, she stood 6'1" in her bare feet. Long thick silky chestnut brown hair hung to the middle of her back. (In case you're wondering, the collars and cuffs matched, but I had made sure she was permanently bald where it matters most). Deep blue eyes capped by full eyebrows, and high defined cheekbones, attesting to  her genetic background that included Cherokee, Sicilian, Germanic, and Norse bloodlines. Blemish free slightly dark complexion. Long, long legs, on a narrow frame with tiny shoulders, and hanging off this slim body was a pair of  soft and saggy 38D's that looked almost ridiculous on her. Cartoonish even. 4" diameter dark pancake areolas with mushy undefined nipples that never seemed to get hard or erect.

   And then there was that telltale scar. Didi had been a runner. (With her legs it was no surprise). She had been in a marathon, Atlanta if memory serves. Didn't see a small pothole. She hit it with her left foot, twisted, and shattered her ankle and broke the bottom of her tibia. Surgical screws and a plate got it all working again, but her competitive running days were over.

   Comparing my old videos with the one I had found was unnerving. Her hair was the least shocking of the changes I spotted. Her once flat belly was stretched and sagging, rolling down over her pubis. She hadn't gained weight really, she just seemed to have lost all of her hard earned muscle tone. Her breasts were a web of scars and stretch marks and had been banded with over a dozen, (it was impossible to be sure what with the poor quality of the video), tight elastic bands, making them hang like udders on a cow. Milk dripped constantly from each one.

   I steeled myself to watch the entire 5 minute video, and watched as the horse pissed in her mouth after cumming.  She drank  as much as she could.  She stood up, right before the end of the video, smiled, revealing a toothless mouth, waved, and turned her back to the camera, bent over. She used both of her hands and pulled her ass cheeks apart, exposing both her vaginal and anal prolapses for all to see.

   I saved the video, and promised myself at that instant that I would do everything in my power to locate Didi.

   I am going to relate this tale in three parts: #1. How I met her. #2. How I used her when she was mine. #3. How I got her back. No other way makes sense.

   Didi was 25 when we first met. It was at a 5K race for some charity up in Amherst, Mass.. I spotted her and made it my goal to try and run behind her so I could drink in the sight of her long bare legs and tight round ass, which was barely hidden by the shorts she was wearing. While my goal had been purely prurient in interest, it proved very difficult to accomplish, as she ran like a gazelle, (even with the bad ankle), and I had all I could do to stay behind her. The view was luscious and well worth the physical strain on my part.

   When the race was over, I grabbed a bottle of water they provided for the runners and attempted to catch my breath before approaching her. (I figured a sweaty, gasping, panting first impression wouldn't work to my advantage). By the time I started over to her, another man had run over to her and was yelling words of praise with happiness, and they hugged each other in joy. I stayed where I was and watched discreetly. I knew if I was to have any chance at this beauty I would have to find some other way to introduce myself. So I waited while their elation faded and then approached them both under the lame pretext of not knowing the town and where could I go to get something to eat. The guy said. "There's no place nearby. All the runners scap up the eateries right away. That's why we always bring a picnic lunch with us. You're welcome to join us if you'd like. We always bring plenty."

    "That's very generous of you," I replied, "But I wouldn't want to intrude."

    "It's not an intrusion at all, is it Deidre," the man said.

    "No, Sir," she half whispered, her head slightly bowed, not looking at her boyfriend.

    "Of course not. Why don't you run off to the car like an obedient little girl and get the basket while I talk with our new friend."

   "Yes, Sir," she answered before turning heel and jogging away from us. My eyes followed her bouncing butt cheeks a little too long, and when I looked back at the boyfriend his smile said he had caught me.

   "Cute coming and going," he commented. "I'm Marc, and that's Deidre."

   "Craig," I offered. "This is very nice of you."

   "Not a problem. Deidre and I always enjoy meeting people with like interests. Do you run often?"

   "Well, no, not really. I ran a little cross country in high school and in my first two years of college, but I sort of let it slide. Decided it wouldn't hurt to try and get into shape before age makes that even harder to do. This was my first 5K. Pretty sure I'll feel it for a few days."

   "I don't run," he countered. "Deidre was born to it. Those legs of hers always made it easy. She took a bad fall a year ago, needed a lot of surgery to get her ankle working again. She'll never really compete again, not seriously anyway. But it's in her blood and it certainly keeps her in great form." A wry smile and crinkle of an eyebrow insured I get his meaning. "She's kind of easing back into it now with these shorter runs.

   "Let's head down this way," Marc said, "Deidre'll find us."

   We started to walk away from the people milling about, out of the park and out into a field. There were a few people on blankets enjoying the sun, a few college kids playing frisbee, and a couple of people flying kites in the gentle breezes.

   Deidre ran up behind us lugging a rather large and heavy looking wicker basket. She was soaked in sweat from the chore.

   "This is a nice spot," Marc declared.

   I stood alongside Marc and watched as Deidre set the basket down. Before she opened it up, Deidre knelt demurely and took off her sneakers and socks, stuffing the socks in the sneakers, and setting them on the grass. She then proceeded to remove a bright red checkered blanket and spread it out meticulously on the grass. Remaining on her knees, she began to take flatware, plates, and cloth napkins from the basket and set places for the three of us. She handed Marc and I each a long stemmed crystal wine glass, and deftly used a corkscrew to open a bottle of chardonnay. She  poured us both a generous splash of wine.

   We didn't join her on the blanket until she had taken food from containers and set it out on serving plates. They had brought three different types of cheese,  sausage, pepperoni, crackers, a loaf French bread and a tossed salad. Lastly, she set out a wooden cutting board and knife.

   When everything had been properly laid out, Marc and I sat down on the blanket, with Deidre in between us. "Help yourself," Marc offered graciously. He waited while I selected some food, then he waited while Deidre prepared a plate for him. It was after we had gotten our food that Deidre finally made a plate for herself.

    "This is very nice of you both," I said. "Thank you."

    Deidre was silent and Marc just nodded.

   "So, Craig," Marc began after we had all taken a few bites, "You told me you're just getting back into running. How did you like this one?"

   "It was good. A few of the uphill stretches were tough, and the pace was a bit quick for me, but all in all, I enjoyed it.

   "Did you enjoy those spectacular views as well?"

   There had been nothing even remotely noteworthy, let alone remarkable about the course we had followed, so I thought the question a bit odd. "A little too much running on pavement for my taste, but there was certainly some nice scenery along the way."

   "Oh yes, the scenery. I'm sure the scenery you viewed for the entire race was spectacular!"

   I looked over at Marc, my discomfort level growing, unsure of where this rapidly escalating tension was heading.

   "Deidre, my dear, did you know that our nice polite guest here spent the entire race running right behind you, so he could watch your ass and legs as you ran?"

    "That's not true," I stammered out, too quickly and too loud.  My heart starting to pound in my chest, and I was sizing up which direction I should run if this got any worse.

   "Of course it's true. Don't be embarrassed. I know Deidre's not, and I'm most assuredly not either. In fact, I'm sure Deidre's proud that you found her so alluring, aren't you, Didi?"

   "Yes, sir," she softly concurred.

   "You see, Craig, Deidre gets turned on when she's being watched. She's a classic exhibitionist. Get's all wet, don't you, my pet?"

   "Yes, sir."

   "So I'll bet your mind came up with some pretty clear images of what that cute little ass looks like, huh Craig?"

   "Well, I,......uh.........."

   "Don't worry, Craig, you're among friends here. Candor and honesty is what we're about. So the question still stands. Do you have a pretty clear image of what you think her ass looks like?"

   Seeing no way out of this, I looked at Deidre, who was looking down at the blanket, and then looked at Marc, who was looking straight at me, and answered with as much confidence as I could muster, "Well, yes. I do. I did have the entire run to formulate an opinion, after all."

   "Of course you did. And I'd bet it's an image that would give you wood, isn't it?"

   "Yes. She has a remarkable ass," I agreed, trying to match his bravado with a crass retort.

   "Well what would you say about putting your mind to the test?"

   "What do you mean," I asked, feeling my confidence slip away.

   "Deidre, stand up and show our guest what your ass really looks like so Craig can see if it's actually as spectacular as he imagined."

   "Yes, sir," she answered, and dutifully stood up.

   As she turned to face me, Marc added, "In fact, why don't you just set him completely free from the confines of his imagination and get completely undressed so he can see your breasts and cunt as well."

   "As you wish, Sir."

   I was dumbfounded as she matter-of-factly pulled her tight top up and over her head, exposing her huge tits. Without skipping a beat, she hooked her fingers in the waistband of the tight shorts and in a quick motion bending down, she slid them to her ankles and stepped out of them. Having risen up to her towering 6'1" height, she stood stock still as I gazed at her brazen nudity. I could hear the approving whistles from the frisbee players when they caught sight of her.

   "Turn so he can see that ass, Didi. After all, that was Craig's mental focus."

   "Yes, sir," came the reply as she slowly turned and gave me a clear uncovered view of those buns I had raced behind only an hour or so before. They were even more taut and muscular than I had imagined. Her body was so well toned one would have to say she appeared to have been sculpted from marble. Her muscle definition, flawless complexion, combined with her Amazonian height and  narrow frame topped off with huge tits was almost cartoonish in it's exaggerated perfection.

  Deidre just stood there, cool, calm, and collected, knowing Marc and I were staring at her, as well as several people nearby. Some even approached close enough to use their cell phones and record this moment forever. It didn't seem to bother her in the slightest to display herself thusly.

   "So, my friend," Marc interrupted the moment. "How does she stack up to your imagination?"

   "No imagination could do her justice," I answered, not taking my eyes off of her. "She's the epitome of beauty, grace and composure, with just the right amount of arrogance and confidence thrown in. She is, quite frankly,  perfection in a glance."

   "Well now, Deidre, darling, you've just been paid a handsome compliment. What do you say?"

   "Thank you for your kind words, Sir."

   "And how should you properly thank this gentleman for lauding such praise on you?"

   I saw Deidre give him a quick look, and he gave the slightest of nods in return, before she knelt down in front of me. She looked right into my eyes and very confidently asked, "Would you please permit me to pleasure you, Sir?"

   I looked at Marc, and he reassured me, saying, "By all means avail yourself. Maybe it will help stoke your imagination!"

    I looked back at Deidre and said, "Please."

   She helped get me lying flat on my back before pulling my shorts down. The sensation of her mouth was overwhelming. Soft, wet, satiny tongue licking my straining erection. Luscious full pouty lips creating the seal for her vacuum-like sucking technique. Her skill level was far greater than any woman I had ever known. She took me into her throat, burying her nose in my pubic hair as she tried to treat all of my cock to her loving caresses. I was in heaven, and in a matter of a couple of minutes I filled her mouth with cum. She had no reaction to it, and gently swallowed it all, while ever so slowly reducing her efforts to allow me to return to earth in a slow and controlled fashion.

   After seeing that no cum remained, she pulled my shorts up, knelt back on her knees, and said, "Thank you Sir for the gift of your seed. It was a privilege for me to pleasure you."

   "In addition to being an exhibitionist, Didi also gets off on being humiliated. Nice combination, eh," Marc offered.

   With a motion from his hand, Deidre pulled on her top and her shorts and sat back down again between us.

   "I have no words," I said.

   "Deidre needs to be abased," Marc told me. "She must have her limits pushed all the time. Sometimes it's a real challenge for me to find ways to satiate her needs.

   "Let's pack it up, Didi, it's time we head home.

   "Craig, we'll be at the run over in Great Barrington in two weeks if you'd like to meet up with us there. Maybe you could help me out and think of some ways to stimulate my little pet."

   "Sure, Marc. I'd really love to. Let me give you my cell number in case we don't run into each other up there. In fact, if you'll give me your email address, I think I might use that imagination you like so much to dream up some ways to keep Deidre on her toes."

   Marc and I exchanged cell phone numbers and email address and shook hands as we parted. Deidre didn't speak, as she toted the picnic basket away with Marc, walking behind him. I watched her tight ass as they walked away.

   During the next two weeks, I sent a few emails to Marc with some suggestions I had thought up which might make Deidre's upcoming run a bit more of a challenge for her. I came up with the idea of putting emery cloth in her bra, rough side to the nipples, of course. Or using the same emery cloth strategically placed in her shorts. Possibly having her run the entire race with a butt plug, or in a short skirt with no panties.

   Marc emailed back that he liked the butt plug idea, and could I bring one. I answered that I could, and even had the perfect model. It was very bulbous, which made insertion painful, while at the same time helping to prevent it from dislodging as she ran, and it was made of glass, so it was heavy. The outside end had been fitted with a magnifying lens making it possible to look well up inside her gaping anus.

   Prior to the run, Marc made Didi drop her extremely tight white short shorts, bend over, and spread her cheeks, so I could insert the plug. I made her suck on it and slaver all over it before I pressed up inside of her. After the race,  Marc had her disrobe in the parking lot and bend over so I could remove the plug. I put it in her mouth to be cleaned as we fucked her gaping hole. "Guests first," Marc said.

   After we had each dumped our loads in her colon, Marc made her squat down and squeeze the cum out of her ass onto a plate. Then, without being instructed, on all fours, she dutifully lapped it all up.

   We met at one more road run a few weeks later. It was at that event that I brought up an idea I had been toying with to Marc.

   "Marc," I began, after Deidre had just finished sucking each of us off, "There's an equestrian show next week that I think might prove to be something of interest for your slave."

   "Equestrian? As in horses?"

   "Well, yes and no," I answered, realizing that either he wasn't aware of pony play, or he was playing with me, seeing what I knew.

   "These aren't horses of the four legged variety, although  the show features many of the   same types of events one would associate with them. These are human horses and ponies."

   "Human?" he shot back, genuinely caught unaware.

   "Yes. These are people who have been trained as horses. Pony play is the common term for it. Both males and females participate and compete in a wide variety of events, such as races, wagon and cart pulling, plow pulling, and dressage."

   "You're kidding me."

   "Absolutely not," I countered. "This type of play is practiced all over the world, and the participants compete following the strictest of rules, with trained judges. I think Deidre would benefit from this training."

   "What type of competition would you think she'd be good at?"

   "Well, with that ankle of hers, the racing competitions would be out of the question. I don't think her ankle could stand up to the rigorous work out of racing unbridled, let alone trying to pull a silky and rider, or carrying the weight of a jockey. She isn't built for drafting either. She's far too tall and lean. Short stocky muscular body types excel as work horses.

   "I was thinking of dressage. She'd actually be perfect for that, what with her height, long legs, narrow build, and massive chest."

   "And what, pray tell, is dressage?"

    "I guess the best way to describe it is to explain what it isn't. Some forms of competition are for the fleet footed, or extremely agile, while others favor endurance or just plain brute strength. Dressage is none of those. Dressage relies upon poise, concentration, consistency, muscle control and tone and, most importantly, attitude. All attributes Deidre already possesses.

   "The ponies are trained in different gaits, turning, proper posture, responding to commands both non-verbal and verbal, and they must be able to move with smooth, fluid and graceful motions both forward and backward. They must carry themselves with comportment, elegance and grace, disdain even. They never run. All movement is practiced and refined fluidity, slow, and completely deliberate.

   "Deidre is perfect for dressage, and the training she would receive would make her an even more compliant slave to you."

   "I like the sound of this. What do they have the ponies wear?"

   "Very elaborate outfits, really, especially in dressage. The horses are naked, of course, excepting for the required tack.  The bridle, bit and reins is pretty much  the same for all the different ponies. Pretty much what a real horse would be fitted with, except the bit is hard rubber, so as not to hurt the teeth. There are special boots, usually they lace up the calf to just below the knee. The soles are shaped like the hoof of a horse, they're even fitted with steel horse shoes. They force the pony all the way up on tip toes, which accents the muscles of the legs really well. For dressage, they usually have an elegant plume fitted to the bridle on top of the head. Blinders help the pony focus and stay on task. They all wear magnificent tails, made of real horse hair. The tails are attached to a butt plug, which is inserted into the pony's anus.

   "We wouldn't need to worry about any of the tack, as Deidre is a newbie. I would like for her to be naked the whole weekend, however just to see how she deals with crowds  of people who are dressed.

   "So what do you think, Marc?"

   "It sounds great! I really like it. Only one problem though. I'm afraid I'm going to be out of town all of next week and past the weekend as well, so I won't be able to attend."

   "That's too bad," I responded, very disappointed after all of my efforts at selling the idea to Marc.

   "But," Marc came back quickly, "That doesn't mean you can't take Didi, yourself."

   "Huh," I stammered, unable to come up with a more appropriate response to his incredulous offer.

   "Sure. Why don't you take her. She could stand to submit to someone else for a change."

   "Are you sure? I mean, what if she doesn't want to go?"

   "Deidre, be a good little girl, and run along and get us more coffee," Marc ordered her in a tone dripping with condescension.

    "She'll do it just because I want her to,"  Marc boasted to me just as his cell phone rang. He looked at the screen and said, "Excuse me a moment, I need to take this call."

   Deidre bent over to take my coffee cup for a refill and whispered, "I'll obey you because I want to, it has nothing to do with him."

   I did a double take, looking quickly from Marc, who was engrossed in his phone conversation, to Deidre. She gave me a conspiratorial smile, and whisked away for my coffee.

   The following Friday morning, I met Deidre at a pre-arranged park. (I never did learn where she and Marc lived, nor did they learn the same about me). She had brought an overnight bag with her. She looked stunning! Big sunglasses, her hair tied back in a ponytail. Tight white t shirt, ultra short shorts, also white, and also very tight. (It was immediately apparent that she wore no undergarments). High heeled sandals with thin leather straps entwining their way up her shapely calves adorned her feet. Her well defined, smooth tanned legs glistened in the bright sunlight.

   I owned a black Chevy Suburban back then, as the extra space made it easy for me to carry drawings and surveying equipment with me wherever I had to go. The windows were tinted to the maximum legal darkness., and it sat quite high off the road. I took Deidre's bag from her and stowed it in the far back before opening the passenger door or her.

   We didn't speak for the first few minutes while I was navigating my way out of town. I broke the silence with, "I really can't believe Marc is letting you spend this weekend alone with me."

   "It's not actually a question of 'letting me,' really. I'm free to make my own decisions."

   "Really? So you're here because you want to be?"

   "Yes."

    "Suppose Marc wanted you to be here, but you didn't want to?"

   "He can tell me to do something, order me even, but the choice is ultimately mine to make. He doesn't own me." Deidre had put a strong emphasis on the word own.

   "Maybe you need to be owned," I countered, raising my voice level a notch or two.

   She turned in her seat and said, "Oh, really."

   "Yes, really. You're a submissive, plain and simple. You get off on being made to do things most people would not only find offensive, but abhorrent and disgusting as well. The more humiliating and debasing the better for you.

   "Take off your clothes," I barked! You're going to spend this entire weekend naked, the way a sub should be."

   Deidre didn't obey me right away, she stayed sitting sideways in the seat looking at me. Then, rolling down the window, she removed her T shirt, bra, shorts and panties, and tossed them all out the open window.

   "There, happy now?"

   I didn't give her the satisfaction of looking at her insolent nakedness. "The proper response should have been, 'Yes, Master."

   "Yes, Master," she chimed, condescension oozing from each syllable.

   "Put your feet up on the dashboard, cunt, and spread your legs apart. Leave the window down."

   "Yes, Master," she mocked me, but following my directive as she said it.

     We drove that way for a few miles, before she said, "You can't actually own someone."

    "Yes, as a matter of fact, you can. And at the place where we're going right now, many of the people involved are owned, in a very legal sense of the word."

   "How?"

   "Legally binding contracts are drawn up, and they're signed by both parties, the owner and the slave, and duly witnessed. All the obligations, expectations, rights and other considerations of the slave owner and the slave are spelled out very concisely. Both parties enter into it freely, no one is forced or coerced in any way."

   Deidre didn't have a witty come back for all of that. She sat still, facing forward, feet still up on the dash. I maneuvered the car into the left lane alongside a tractor-trailer so the driver could get a nice little show as I slowly crept pass him. A few grateful toots from his air horn signaled his appreciation at the sight of Deidre's naked sex, while she had no reaction at all, and made no attempt to hide herself from the trucker's eyes.

   Deidre spent the weekend naked, with a black studded leather dog collar locked around her slim neck with a leash clipped to it. Not only wasn't she bothered by any of the goings-on, she seemed to truly enjoy every moment of it,  reveling in it if truth be told. I was able to get her enrolled in a beginner's dressage class, and she took to it like the proverbial fish to water, accentuating all of the movements and steps, visibly concentrating on her posture and making sure she was displaying herself properly.

   She looking amazing in the bridle and bit, and even though she wasn't all adorned in the leather harnesses, plumage, and tail, she looked as if she had been doing this for years. Her sleek sexy body was covered in a sheen of sweat as she exerted herself. Drool and spittle from her mouth slathered over her breasts. One of my top favorite things with pony training is the fact that the bit prevents the ponies from closing their mouths, allowing them to swallow their saliva. Rather, it just drips from the mouth in long strands, hanging unceremoniously from the lower lip, until it drops off onto the ground, or in the case of large breasted ponies, onto their chests. Of course they are not allowed access to restrooms, so, just like real equines, they pee right where they stand.

   There were three other newbies in the class with Deidre, one male, who clearly wasn't built for dressage, and two females. The male was short and stocky, his large sagging belly covered in hair drooped over his crotch completely obscuring his shriveled little penis. He belonged in draft horse work, pulling a cart, or plow. Of the two other females, one was in her thirties or early forties and bore the telltale signs of having borne children. Stretch marks covered her belly and sagging tits. Otherwise, she looked pretty good. The other was dumpy looking, with short legs, wide birthing hips, and short mousy brown hair. Like the male, she was much better suited for work horse events.

   When her intro course was over, I removed the bridle and bit myself. To show her gratitude to me for the class, she sank to her knees, unzipped my pants, and sucked me off. The instructor of the class saw this happen and approached me saying, "You've got a natural dressage pony with her, Sir. With the proper training she could seriously compete, both in the States and abroad!"

   "Thank you, Sandra," I replied, "But unfortunately, she  isn't mine to do with as I please."

   "That's really too bad, Craig. Not only is she built for it, she seems to actually get off on it. I can smell all the wetness from her cunt.

    "I have a pamphlet I put together a few months ago for dressage ponies. You should take one and give it to her owner. It outlines various exercises to strengthen the more important muscle groups, quads, abs, gluts. There's another section regarding posture, another one on proper steps and basic commands. It'd be informational, maybe even convince him to get her involved."

   I took a copy of the pamphlet and we headed back to our room. We spent that night fucking in every way imaginable. On Sunday, we watched the finals in the races and dressage before packing up the car and heading out.

   The drive home was quiet. The weather was miserable, steady rain and strong wind gusts. Deidre was naked in the car, but with the windows up, no one could see her. She spent the first part of the trip reading and re-reading the dressage pony pamphlet. Then she let the bombshell hit.

   "May I speak freely," she asked?

   "Of course."

   "From the time I was a little girl, I've always been excited, really excited by being humiliated. I have no clue as to why this is true, and Lord knows I've given it a tremendous amount of though over the years, but it is true. The more degrading, embarrassing, debasing the situation, the more I'm turned on by it.

   "When I was six, there were two other girls, Dani and Sheila and a boy, Dylan, who was a year younger than us, living in the same neighborhood. We all played together. One of the games was playing "doctor." I was always the "patient," and they were doctors and nurses trying to help me. Of course they got to wear clothes, but I would always be naked during my examinations. They would touch, rub, and probe me, using all kinds of devices to serve as thermometers and other diagnostic tools. Soda bottles, plastic straws, basters, ice pops, you name it, they examined me with it. In fact, I lost my virginity to a glass Nehi bottle.

   "In the summer, we'd sneak out to a pond on a local dairy farm. The three of them always swam in their swim suits, while I swam naked. No one made me do it, but by that time, it just seemed natural for me to be naked around kids who were clothed.

   In junior high, Dani had a sleepover party for her thirteenth birthday. Girls only. 8 excluding me if memory serves. The conversation centered on boys, who had pubic hair, who had already had their first period, and such.

   "Hey Didi," Dani said loud enough for all ears to perk up. "Do you still like being naked in front of others?"

   "Wha..... what do you mean," I stammered, blushing.

   "Get undressed and show us that hairy pussy you claim to have."

   "I remember getting a hot tingling sensation deep in my belly as looked around Dani's bedroom and saw that all the other girls were looking at me. I didn't fight it. I just stood up and pulled my tank top off before stepping out of my pj bottoms. Then I hooked my fingers in my cotton panties, pulled them down around my feet, and kicked them off. There I was naked, standing in a room  of teenaged girls who were dressed. If I had touched myself, I would have cum in a heartbeat.

   "I alone was naked the rest of that night. All the girls watched me as I masturbated several times for them, laying on my back, legs spread wide, giving them all a good look at my sopping wet cunt.

   "By the time Dani's 17th birthday party came around, everyone was accustomed to my nakedness. It was expected actually. But at that party, she had invited boys as well, and she made a spectacle of me undressing in front of them all. I sucked a lot of cocks and ate a lot of pussy that night.

   "I wore a lot of dresses and skirts to school without panties, so I could flash the teachers. We had a math teacher, Mr. Ambrose, who saw my cunt and said something like, 'Are they serving fish for lunch today? I think I can smell it.' I just spread my legs further apart to give him an even better view.

   "In college I pledged a sorority. A lot of the hazing involved public nudity, flashing, streaking. I loved it all, in fact when I became a sister, and wasn't made to do it anymore, I missed it so much that I used to go to a couple of the frats and dance naked for them."

   Didi paused, as if collecting her thoughts. "This thing with being a human pony isn't something I want to do. It's something I have to do. I need to do. Being naked and sub-human at the same time, not just being watched, but judged, is incredible. I have to do this."

    "And what about Marc?"

   "I don't belong to Marc. We've been together for a few years, but it's been lite playing, that's all. I need more than that.

   "Please help me."

    "Touch yourself," I ordered her, "But don't cum."

   "Yes Sir," she replied eagerly, her hand diving into her sex.

    I let her play while I thought about what I would require from her if I was to what she asked. Finally, I said, "Alright, but we're going to enter into this the right way."

    "What do you mean?"

   "I'm going to have a legal contract drawn up, which will explains what rights you are giving up, what rights you will keep, what it is that you are agreeing to, and the like. This contract will be witnessed and signed before I take you over as my own property. Agreed?"

    "Yes, yes, I'll do anything you say," she quickly  agreed.

   She left Marc that same evening and moved in with me. By the end of the following week I had the contract drawn up. There were four witnesses to the signing, two men and two women. I made Deidre read it aloud in front of us, to make sure she understand each and every word before she signed herself over to me.

   Standing before the five of us, naked, she held up the contract and read:

   "I, Deidre M. Reilly, being of sound mind and of my own free will, do consent to give myself over to Craig W. Anderson. I will adhere to and obey all of the clauses and responsibilities of this contract to the best of my abilities.

   #1. From this moment forward, I will only refer to Craig Anderson as Sir, or Master, or My Lord, unless He gives me instructions to the contrary.

   #2. I relinquish any and all property which I own, including, but not limited to, my car, my condo, all of my possessions, and all of my financial assets, including savings and checking accounts, my driver's license, passport, and any other form if id. Master may do as he pleases with all these things. I also relinquish myself to Master. I hereby put myself at His disposal, like the rest of my former property, to be used in any manner decided by him.

   #3. Master may make any modifications to my body that He wishes. These include, but are not limited to: tattoos, piercings, brands, scarification, and implants.

   #4.  My responsibilities include, but are not limited to: total obedience to Master, keeping his house neat and clean, maintaining my body, keeping myself desirable, clean, and made up the way Master prefers, and keeping myself sexually available to Master at all times. Any infractions of these obligations may be met with whatever punishments Master deems fit. These punishments may include, but are not limited to: whipping, caning, flogging, confinement, and hard labor.

    #5. This contract may be terminated by my refusal to live up to any part of this agreement.

   After Deidre had concluded the reading, I signed it first and then she added her signature. The four witnesses signed after us, and with that, Didi was mine. I placed a black leather dog collar around her neck and locked it in place. A small sterling silver tag which simply read, "didi" had been riveted to the collar.

  

  

  

   

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

   

  

  

  

 

  

Lacataion quantity quart  and half daily

pregnancy how soon   6-8 weeks

fertility drug use six day dose

when to fertilize  hormone monitoring of urine to determine most fertile period

vaginal prolapse

anal prolapse

breast binding

stomach muscle tone gone

sex with animals: dogs, donkeys, ponies

equestrian training

          dressage not work horse or races (blown ankle)

hucow/bovine

teeth removed to make horse  cock easier

Rightful Retrieval

Chapter 2

Equine Transformations

by: Charles E. Campbell

   The ceremony where didi signed all her freedoms away and presented herself to me as my property was on a Saturday evening. After I had given my new slave to our guests to enjoy as they pleased,  (which took the better part of two hours), I took my new possession home to my mid-town apartment. For the remainder of Saturday night, and all day Sunday, I explored her physically and mentally, pushing her, looking to see what sort of limits she might have that would need to be broken down and removed. I took my time and used her in just about every way imaginable. I did not, however allow her to cum, not even once, pushing her to the edge repeatedly, over and over again.

   Monday was the day I had set aside from work in order to complete didi's transition from human into chattel. We transferred the funds from her bank account to pay off her three department store credit cards and then closed them out. Her American Express card was paid up, so all we had to do there was cancel it. Since she had been living with Marc, she had no apartment for me to deal with, so all that remained at that point was her car and her bank.

   We drove to the DMV first and had the title for her car transferred over to me. I found a dingy looking deli to get us lunch. I sent didi in, topless, and waited at the curb for her to bring back the sandwiches. It took close to fifteen minutes before she came back to the car.

   The woman at the bank seemed almost to take it personally that didi was closing out both her savings account and checking account. A bank check for the balances was written to me for a little over $17,000. All that was left for us to do was empty her safe deposit box and cancel it. I dumped the contents of the box into my briefcase and took didi's purse from her, which contained her id and drivers license. From that point on, for all intents and purposes, didi ceased to exist. I had her drivers license, her passport, her birth certificate, her social security card, ..... Hell, I even had her library card for Christ's sake!

   The first thing I made her do when we got home later that afternoon, (after striping naked of course), was to put all of her id through the shredder. She was noticeably hesitant as she began the task of destroying all of the records of her existence. This act, carried out by her own hand, demonstrated the level of her trust in me, as well as how much of a total commitment she was willing to make to undertake this journey with me.

   The training regimen I had coordinated for didi was comprehensive, intensive, demanding, and rigorous to the point of harsh. It had been designed with just one goal in mind, and that was to get didi in shape to not just enter into human pony dressage competitions, but to do it at a competitive level from the outset. Monday and Thursday mornings she took yoga classes for two hours with a private instructor at his apartment. The yoga exercises were aimed at increasing didi's flexibility and body control, and towards her learning to hold difficult positions for varying lengths of time. Her instructor was not at all comfortable when I informed him that didi was to do her exercises naked, since no one else would be present during her lessons. I don't think he ever believed me when I informed him that he could use her however he wanted after class. I know he never availed himself of the myriad of opportunities he had staring him in the face each week. Probably concerned it was all just a set up to ruin his reputation.

   Tuesday and Thursday mornings didi worked out with a private trainer named Suzanne, at her studio. The trainer looked like a descendent of the Amazon tribe: over six feet tall, broad shoulders, extremely well defined legs, arms and torso, with long auburn hair always tied in a high pony tail, sporting no body hair to been seen on her tanned and glistening body. The trainer had been given the task of toning and strengthening didi's legs and torso to make it possible for her to be able to withstand the rigors of competition.  I know Suzanne liked having didi naked as she put her through the wringer with her regimen of exercises, because Suzanne was naked as well by their second session, and always took her pleasures with didi at each session's end.

   Wednesday and Saturday mornings were reserved for ballet lessons. These were  intended to teach didi how to move in a calculated graceful and fluid manner with elegance, confidence, and poise. Again, I insisted she be naked throughout the lessons. The snooty silver haired matron who owned the dance school was vehemently opposed to such a vile, reprehensible and disgusting suggestion, and she initially refused to allow didi into the classes. After much cajoling on my part, as well as an offer of triple the tuition fees however, the old woman relented, and took didi on as a special one on one tutelage, ironically with herself as the teacher.

   On Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, I had her enrolled in Tai Chi lessons to help again with the deliberateness and fluidity of her movements. No amount of coercion on my part got them to agree to her being nude during the classes. They just wouldn't hear of it.

   Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoons, didi was in my gym, using the treadmill, stationary bike, stair mill, and weights. And Saturday afternoons were spent jogging outdoors, with a five mile minimum, in a very short skirt, no panties or bra was permitted.

   Every evening, we watched videos together. I had a mix of both equine dressage films and human dressage films. We dissected them together, paying particular heed to the pony's head positions, body movements, leg lifting, and how gracefully and deliberately each motion was executed.

   That left us with Saturday nights and all day Sunday free for me to dream up various things to keep her off her game and on her toes. While I really enjoyed these "free" times, I was also trying to make them both difficult for her and at the same time, removing any and all  limits she might of had.

   I'll list a few of the things we did at those times that I still remember best:

   1.  There was one Sunday afternoon where I brought her into a sports bar in New Jersey, which was packed with locals enjoying a baseball game. didi was dressed in super short shorts, spaghetti strap tank top, bare midriff, and sandals. No underwear, of course. Many pairs of male eyes were riveted on her as we came in from the brilliant sunlight outside. We went directly to the back of the room, past the pool tables, where I announced that I would give $20 to every guy who would cum on her face. (I think we got about fifteen guys to jerk off on her). We left the bar, and I had her do a slow cum walk through the town, jizz dripping from her cheeks and chin.

   2.  I took her up into northwest Connecticut one time, so we could get out onto the Appalachian Trail.  didi left her clothes in the car, and we hiked with her naked. We ran into several hikers, both day hikers and through hikers, as well as a small troop of Boy Scouts. (I'll bet they're still talking about that encounter at their campfires!)

   3.  We had been invited to a friend's house for an afternoon barbeque. Eight or so couples were in attendance. didi was naked, of course. The women seemed to openly enjoy her nakedness, surprisingly even more so than their husbands did, although I'm pretty sure that it was just the fact that the men were afraid to look  at her too much in the presence of their wives. I made sure that whenever didi sat. it was with her legs apart, and whenever she dropped anything, which was "startlingly" often, she had to bend at the waist, never the knees, to retrieve it.

   4.  One night we paid a visit to an underground S&M club down in the Bowery. After watching the various tortures inflicted on the willing slaves for a while, I offered up didi to a black dominatrix to play with. (The welts on her tits and thighs took the better part of a month to completely disappear).

   After six weeks of the grueling training, I felt that didi was ready to put some of what she had accomplished into practice. I contacted Sandra, the woman who had given didi her introductory lessons in dressage, explaining that I thought it time to see where didi was in regards to where she needed to be. Sandra agreed to take didi on for a ten day training period starting in three weeks time. Sandra told me her fees, which I agreed to, and when I inquired as to what we would need to bring with her, Sandra told me, "Nothing. Any needs she will have we will provide for. No, wait a minute. You do have her signed contract, don't you," she added?

   "Yes, of course."

    "That's all I'll need then. Bring the contract, I'll make a photocopy of it after I see the original."

   It was a Saturday morning when we left my apartment at 4:30AM to make the trek down to western Maryland, near Martinsburg.  didi was wearing sandals and a long dress that fell all the way to her ankles. It was made from a white gauze-like fabric that didn't require one to have to wait for "just the correct light" to notice how translucent the flimsy material actually was.

   At about 7:30 I located a small town diner where we stopped for breakfast. (How can one pass up a chance to eat at "Kathie's Kountry Kookin' " after all?) It was inhabited with about ten locals who probably frequented the dump on a daily basis to socialize and spread the latest gossip. I'm pretty sure everyone in the place, including the waitress, was collecting Social Security. I know we would have stopped the conversation at the counter just for the fact of being strangers, but didi's dress instantly became the focal point for every set of eyes, including the "chef," who peeked through the window as  he set down a plate of eggs and hash.

   We stood patiently by the cardboard sign that was clipped to a rusting chrome stand which read: "Please Wait To Be Seated."

   The waitress called out from behind the counter, "Sit wherever you like, dearies"

   "Thank you," I replied, eyeing a booth that would allow the patrons the best opportunity to watch didi.

   We ordered breakfast, and I specifically asked for two large glasses of ice water, which were delivered promptly.  After eating most of her breakfast, didi raised the water glass to her lips, and as she did, I stepped on the toes of one of her feet. The effect was instantaneous, as she spilled the entire contents of the plastic glass all down the front of her dress. When she bolted to her feet in shock, the thin dress clung to her, removing any lingering questions the patrons might have had regarding what she wasn't wearing underneath. All eyes were riveted to didi as she profusely apologized to the waitress for spilling her drink.

   The waitress ran to our table with some towels to mop up the spill, and I suggested to didi that the least she could do was to help, since it was she who made the mess after all. In one quick uninhibited motion, didi bent down, and grabbing the dress at the hem, stood up, while pulling the garment over her head. Standing naked, she balled up the dress and bent over, her ass to the counter, and began wiping up the water with her dress. The silence was deafening as the "Kountry Kitchen's" Krowd watched in horror at the naked form of didi wiping up the water.

   When the spill was all mopped up, didi tugged the soaked dress over the top of her head and back down her body. I settled the tab, leaving a very generous tip for the waitress, and we headed back to my car to start the second half of the trip. didi stripped off the wet dress as she got in the car and made the rest of the journey naked.

     It was at about 11:15 when we saw the hand painted sign on the road which read:

PROUDFUL PONIES STABLES

ALL Things Equine

Boarding, Sales, Riding Lessons, Jumping

Full Time Veterinary

Home of Shetland Twins Bonnie & Clyde

Sandra Martinez, DVM Owner

   We turned onto the dirt road by the sign. (It wasn't too difficult for anyone in the know to figure out why the word "all" was in caps). Both sides of the road were lined with neatly painted white fencing, which cordoned off sections of the land into symmetrical paddocks. We drove over a quarter of a mile before seeing any horses in the enclosures. Then came some training rings, with various types of jumps erected: fences, hedges, etc. A beautiful barn came into view as we rounded a turn. Children and adults were riding, watching riders, saddling horses, and tending to the tasks at hand. A sign with an arrow indicating a right turn simply read: "OFFICE."

   I pointed the car in that direction and saw a lovely young woman emerge from a one story building and approach my side of our car.  As I lowered my window, she said, "Mr. Anderson?"

   "Yes."

   "We've been expecting you, Mr. Anderson. My name is Rebecca. I see you've brought your pony with you. Dr. Martinez is in her office waiting for you, you can go right in. I think it would be best if I take your car and bring your pony down to the stables for you. We wouldn't want her to startle our other guests."

   I got out of the car and Rebecca hopped in. I watched her as she drove further down the road, away from all of the people, and out of my sight.

   Dr. Martinez was very cordial and business like as she asked me for didi's slave contract. She handed it off to her secretary to make copies. "I expect it will be a few days before I can do an adequate assessment and tell you what I think your pony's competitive chances are, as she is new to all of this."

   "Of course, I understand," I replied.

   When the secretary handed the original contract to me and the copies to Sandra, she stood and said, "Let's take a walk down to the paddock and see  how your pony likes our "Greeting Gate."

   "Greeting Gate," I asked?

   "Yes, you'll see. It's where we bring all the new ponies to be acclimated with their stable mates. It's a tradition we hold dear."

   As we stepped of the porch, Sandra called out, "Hansel, come! Gretel, come!" Instantly, and seemingly out of nowhere, we were flanked by a large pair of German Sheppard's. We walked with the dogs down the same road didi had been driven down earlier. The corrals on the left side held horses that were lazily eating hay, while the ones on the right had riders working on jumping. As we passed over a low rise, there was a sign which read, "Veterinary Medical Facility. Authorized Personnel Only Beyond This Point."

   There were no more corrals now, just open grassy fields with some trees. We walked along  a long sloping curve and I could see a large red barn surrounded by corrals. A group of ten people or more, most of them naked, were milling about in front of the stable doors.  As we got closer, I could make out a naked body strapped to some sort of wooden apparatus.

   "I see didi has been readied for her formal greetings,"  Sandra said to me.  "This is where she will be introduced to our trainers and to the other ponies as well. As her owner, Craig, you may participate in these festivities if you wish, but you will not allowed to stop anything that goes on. If you do,  if you even try to, you will have to take your pony and leave at once. All of the fees will be forfeited."

   "I understand," I answered.

   There actually were nine people surrounding didi.  Two men wearing fringed buckskin chaps and work boots, nothing else, two topless women wearing some sort of custom made jodhpurs with no crotch, black velvet derby hats,  and English riding boots, and five ponies, three male and two female. The ponies were naked excepting for their tack, which was limited to harnesses, bridles and bits. 

   didi had been strapped to device that centrally looked like an elaborate sort of sawhorse. Her legs were spread wide apart, with her feet shackled to the supports, and she was bent over a wooden beam at the waist. Her long hair had been tied tightly into a pony tail with a length of stout rope pulling her head up at an awkward angle from her shoulders. Her tits drooped like water balloons from her chest. Both of her arms had been strapped out at right angles from her body. A modified wooden captain's chair with stirrups like in an ob-gyn office was bolted to metal supports designed to allow the chair to pivot in front of didi's face, or up and out of the way. Two long lengths of 2 by 8's  were bolted at the base of the device with a matching pair bolted at the height of didi's bent waist. The surfaces of the 2 by 8's was covered in black rubber, with blocks of wood nailed along the length of it at twelve inch intervals.

   "I see the we are all ready to greet our newest pony," Sandra proclaimed. "Sheila, being that you will be didi's trainer while she's here with us, I'll give you the honor of being first."

   "Thank you, Mistress Sandra," Sheila replied.

   Sheila was in her late twenties,  about 5'3" tall, with very short sandy blond hair. (Her dense little untrimmed pubic thicket matched the hair on her head). She strode purposefully to the captain's chair and pulled it forward as she slid into it. Getting her boots up in the stirrups, she slid the seat forward to didi's face, and tilting it back to just the right angle, she said, "Greet me, didi, I'm Sheila, and I am going to be your trainer."

   In seconds, didi's tongue was sending Sheila to extreme heights of pleasure. Sheila was moaning and pushing her cunt into didi's face as she came.

   "Randy, you'll be didi's groomer, so it's your turn next."

   Randy was one of the two men in the buckskin chaps. A tall man, better than six foot, with wavy shoulder length light brown hair. He had multi-colored tattoos covering both arms shoulder to wrist. His 8" cock was standing proudly at attention and bobbed as he took his position between didi's splayed legs. He rubbed his stiff wood along her dripping cunt a little before burying himself in the wet folds. didi let out a high pitched chirp when his cock slammed hard into her cervix. "My name is Randy, and I will take care of grooming you," he announced as he fucked her.

   Randy didn't waste any time, pounding her as fast as humanly possible, before spilling his seed inside.

   "Mindy and Thad, you're turn," Sandra decreed.

   The other trainer and the ostler assumed the positions vacated by Sheila and Randy and double teamed didi. When they had had their fill, the three ponyboys and two ponygirls were given the opportunity to partake of didi's body. She had a ponyboy's cock in one hand, a ponygirl's pussy on the other hand fluffing them while she was fucked by another ponyboy, and had to lick the asshole of the other ponygirl. When the first ponies were done, they took their pleasure from her, while the third ponyboy got in position for manual stimulation until it was his turn. The remaining ponyboy fucked didi's mouth when she was finished with the female, who had taken some time to cum.

   At last, all nine of them had been sated. didi was breathing hard, her entire body glistened with sweat, long strands of spittle and drool hung from her nose and mouth slowly oozing to the dry dirt beneath her. Sandra said, "Sheila, if you and Thad would please be so kind as to bring Bonnie and Clyde over here for their greetings as well."

   "Yes, Mistress Sandra," the two grooms chimed, as they turned and walked off towards the stable.

   "I would suggest you enjoy the full use of your pony now, Craig, if you wish to. I'm not sure how desirable you will find her after her final greet."

   "I think I will, thank you, Sandra," I said, wondering to myself what she meant by that last statement.

   I stood between didi's open legs and saw the cum from the men who had fucked her seeping from her gaping hole, and dribbling down the inside of her thighs. Dropping my pants, I rubbed my hard cock in the sticky cum, coating it with their seed, and then I impaled her in the ass with it. I showed no tenderness, no concern at all for her comfort, reveling in her painful groans as I fucked her as hard as I could before contributing  my cum deep in her bowels.

   As I was pulling up my pants, I saw didi's eyes close and her body go slack against the restraints. She was utterly spent, having climaxed at least six times that I had counted. I stepped back over to where Sandra was standing, observing all the events unfold as Sheila and Thad returned, leading a beautiful pair of cream colored Shetland ponies.

   The Shetlands looked like bookends, with their lightly dappled flanks and white legs. Each one had a long silky mane and a thick bushy tail that had been meticulously brushed out. Upon closer inspection, I could see that the one Sheila was leading was a stallion, and judging from his demeanor, this "greeting" ritual was not at all new to him. His long cock seemed to grow in length with each step he took, swaying obscenely under his stomach and his tennis ball sized testicles swung between his powerful hind legs.

   Thad brought his horse, a mare around in front of didi, and turned her away so that her rear was right in front of didi's head. Thad lifted the mare's tail, and with a slight backward tug on the reins, Thad brought the vagina right into didi's face, startling her awake.

   "Pay homage to Bonnie," Thad instructed.

   I couldn't  really see what was going on, but judging by the vigorous motion of didi's head, she was burying her mouth into the mare's sex with reckless abandon, reveling in her abject abasement.  And while this was going on, Sheila had the stallion positioned with his face nuzzled in didi's cunt, getting more aroused with each passing second.  The male's cock was standing proud as he snorted and pawed in anticipation.

   "I think Clyde needs his release now," Sheila announced.

   Thad pulled the mare away and Sheila led the stallion around so that he was facing didi. Thad and Sheila took hold of the stallion's front legs as he reared up, presumably so he wouldn't hurt didi. They placed the horse's hooves on the planks up against one of the blocks of wood, preventing the stallion from slipping forward.

   It was Sheila who took hold of the leathery looking horse cock with both hands and forced as much of it as she could into didi's eager open mouth. Then, while the horse was bucking and whinnying, Sheila began to jerk him off. It was only a matter of a few seconds before horse cum was exploding out from didi's nose and mouth.

   "This concludes the greeting of our new ponygirl didi," Sandra announced. "Groomers and trainers, you may take your charges and go back to your obligations."

   I glanced back over my shoulder as I walked away from didi up the road with Sandra, and saw all the ponies and the stable help going back about their business, leaving didi as she had been, strapped to the wooden structure.