No Choice - Pt.1

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Phileas1
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Posts: 28
Joined: 18 Oct 2018, 10:06

No Choice - Pt.1

Unread post by Phileas1 »

The van stops and the doors have been opened from the outside. The journey from the private airport has been short and silent. The driver is built as a bodyguard sporting an earphone on his left ear. There is another girl with me in the seat, but she is looking at her feet, as she has done for the whole journey. During the time it took to reach our destination, I was able to see other cars on the roads from the tinted windows, and I could guess that wherever they were carrying me, it was out of town.
During the trip, the roads turned from large to small and then there was just a dirt track surrounded by white fences. Just the place where my journey is supposed to end. I have an idea on what to expect, but then I have no idea at all. It seems weird, but so is my story.

The journey ends abruptly with a stop, as I have already told you. As I leave the vehicle, I get to face a woman. Asian, all dressed in black. She is beautiful and projects power and strength. She is not wearing pants, she is wearing jodhpurs, with those large shapes at the side of her thighs. She is not wearing shoes, she is sporting a pair of riding boots, black and shiny, I can see the sun reflecting on them. Above the belt, she is only wearing a black bra, that is apparently fighting to contain her large breasts. I wonder what it would be to lick them. I must be really tired from the trip.
Finally the van goes away leaving me and the girl alone in front of this woman. I notice that the bags that I had with me on the flight are nowhere to be seen. It gives me thoughts, but from what I was told I will not need much during my stay.
“Are you ready?” the lady in black asks.
I start to open my mouth, and she blocks me with a finger.
“Just nod.”
I nod. I had done all that was requested of me, before boarding the plane and I sort of know what is to come, but again theory is nothing compared to reality. Besides, it is not that I have really any other choice.
“My name is not important, and neither is yours. Just follow my orders and it all will be fine. Believe me when I say that there was a time when I was in you exact place, and it is nothing you are not be able to sustain.”
I focus on the crop emerging from her left boot, and I have not a doubt on how serious she is. With a move of her hand, she orders us to follow her.
She guides us into a building nearby, as my eyes are accustomed from the bright sun outside, I can see that the inside resembles quite closely a stable.
“You, come here.” She orders my silent companion, a girl my height, to get into position on the other side of the room.
She picks up the crop and uses its handle to push up her chin. I can see tears dried on her cheeks.
“Last chance. Just nod if you want to go on.”
She nods, trembling. The lady uses the crop's handle on her blonde hair and with a swift movement removes her wig leaving her bald.
Then she makes a gesture for a man, that is waiting at the sides.
He is huge, but had been silent and immobile from the beginning, so inconspicuous that I am surprised by his appearance.
He is dressed with a suede apron. And as he walks in front of me, I can see that he is wearing just a suede apron, and a pair of boots. By the way, his buttocks are stone solid.
He swiftly picks up something from a shelf and places it in front of the girl's face.
“Open up.” The lady in black orders, and the man pushes a sort of a tube into her mouth, forcing it in until the edges are resting on her lips. There is a sort of panel that stands on her face, with some openings for her teeth and her lips.
From the panel there are some metal strips going up at the side of her nose, at the side and down on her chin.
It is a metal head harness and I see that quickly envelopes her skull, all the strips are tightened around her, I see that there are some blinders on the side of her eyes to restrict her vision, and then the muscular man goes behind her neck with something shaped like a gun.
I know what is that thing, is a riveting gun, so I quickly imagine what is going to come.

The mistress must have seen my face, so she says.
“Yes, it will be riveted on you. We do not need to.hear your voice while you stay here. Is that clear?”
I simply nod, as I hear the rivets pop in place.
The look in the eyes of the Asian girl is pure terror. She obviously was not aware of the whole setup. On the other hand, neither I had the grasp of the type of restraints I would be submitting to. I do.my best to keep my face as straight as possible.

My own heart skips a beat as I see that the only sound that she can produce with the harness is a soft whimper, so that the tube must press on her vocal chords.
There is a d-ring on the top of this harness and the lady quickly locks it to a chain coming from the ceiling, then commands the girl to undress and leave all her clothes falling to the ground. With trembling hands she proceeds to open her skirt while her head is kept upright by the chain.
I watch the scene in complete astonished silence, and I am taken from my reverie as she finally turns to me. Obviously I'm the next to subject to the same treatment.

Who am I and how I got in this situation? Well, you could say that I am the victim of the patriarchy. And it is not so far from the truth.

Names are not relevant anymore. Let's just say that I was a world level athlete, a gymnast, and when I was 23 years old, I got involved in a scheme, designed by one of my coaches, to circumvent the doping rules and to help other fellow athletes to get some victories.
You get the idea. Then, on a merry day, one of my friends, my roommate, a girl I've known and loved for most of my life, died from one of the substances I gave her to help boost her performance.
And I got canceled.
I lost my family, not that I had one to talk about, my sport, my sponsorships, everything.
In the space of a night, I was found guilty even before being indicted.
And just as the ink was dry on paper, or the bytes were online on the web, I received damages requests from all my sponsors, from the sport association, from the networks, even from a distant uncle of my dead friend that a zealous attorney had found in a nursing home for the elderly, who sued me for a couples of millions.

That was three years ago, a whole year after the fact. The irony is that when I was hunking in a soddy hotel room, on the net I could see the excerpts of the interviews that my coach, the same one that gave me the drugs that ultimately killed my friend, was giving while making the rounds for his book, soon to be in the shelves of all the nation.
I mean, a guy shot four men dead and is making the rounds in talk shows and podcasts, while I cannot be touched even with a long stick. Patriarchy, I rest my case.

So, when my friend Jason, one of the only remaining, one day asked me to take a holiday my response was automatically yes.
“Do you understand that I'm radioactive? You do not want to be seen with me.”
“I know, but I have a plan.”
So he brought me to the Emirates and I embraced the local customs. To find some privacy I took to going around covered from head to toe in a hijab, the tunic that leaves just a slit for the eyes, an obligation that doesn't affect westerners like me.
Even if I was about with my ordinary clothes, I began carrying one of these around in my backpack and on a couple of occasions I used this caper to flee from a journalist that was trying to get some photos of me.
After ten days, my friend needed to return back, but at the same time I had nowhere to return to.
So, when an acquaintance offered me to stay at his house while he was away on business, it was a done deal. I had a sort of a job, a house, plants to water, a bed and a fridge.
It was like living in a dream. Away from anyone, by myself.
I answered the few messages I got without even mentioning my location, just to be sure. Some sponsors were on the lookout for me to get their money back and I could not be reckless.
The owner of the apartment had a good internet connection and I used it or scour the net for my name and to catch up with series and movies. I even started to train again in the building gym.

After a month the owner of the place returned and we finally started to know each other.
His name was David and he worked in international law. He recognized my face and he knew parts of my story.
I must say that he was kind enough to ask for my side, and even if he was sympathetic with my situation he could not see any easy way out of it.

From a point of view, my being off the grid was a good idea, but it would not be sustainable as the days passed. He said that I could remain there as I wanted but that I would have to find something to do, to get some money, even to begin to satisfy the requests.
Well, it was the respite I needed at the time. And also David was gay and it would be good for his status to have a girl in the house.
Despite the strict laws in the state, there was a lot of leeway for the foreigners but appearances were best kept clean, even so in the residence gym I did not have to wear anything on my face, even in the presence of males.
One night, I met a guy there. Better I could see that he was not tearing his eyes from me. And when I went on the tapis roulant for my jog, he came to the bike near me.
“I cannot remember your face.” Lame starter, but those were not the days I could be picky.
“Well, that's new. Hi!”
“My name is James, and you are?”
Before giving him my name, and thus exponentially adding to the risk he could connect the dots about my past, I checked him out.
Tall, muscular, he was dressed in a high end sports apparel, the watch on his wrist was pricey and so were his shoes. Still, I decided to stay on the safe side.
“Martina, nice to meet you.” It was my roommate’s name.
While exercising we started to chat. That night, in that gym, being Martina was the most relaxing thing in the world. I was instantly miles away from all my worries
And when I turned out in his apartment, to have a wonderful fuck on his carpet, in his living room, was the most beautiful moment I had during that year.

The following morning, as I met with David at breakfast, he saw something different in me, and he started his own inquisition.
I saw no problem in telling him about James and he told me that he knew the guy, that he seemed a pretty decent person but he felt that there was something strange about him that he couldn't point out.
He advised me to be wary and to use him as a safeguard in the case something went wrong.
As he went out toward his office, I wondered what kind of life was awaiting for me in the future. I was in a foreign country, my visa was on the verge of expiring,I had little money and I had a guardian angel.
For the time being, I decided, I would just roll with it. If no one was able to pinpoint my position, there could not be damages requests and so on. I did not realize then that it could turn ugly, fast.

That very night I went to James, he had arranged for dinner in his house. And this time, we reached his bedroom, if you must know what I mean.
“So, Martina, what do you do for a living?” He asked while we were cuddling.
“Right now, I'm out of a job and I'm planning my future.”
I was thinking of coming clean on my name, but I did not want to spoil the thing between us. I was sure it would be tricky as the time went on, but I decided to keep it quiet for the time being. To this day I can’t really pinpoint the real reason to be so secretive. After the fact, I'm pretty sure that he could easily be an ally.
Needless to say, his willingness to fuck me and my desire to be fucked brought our relationship a notch further.
After a month, he quietly introduced something in our relationship: his kinkyness.
It started with a pair of handcuffs that he closed around my wrists and then he passed the chain over his head.
Our heights are different so I found myself nearly off the ground.
I resolved the situation by encircling his midriff with my legs and then kissing him. I must say that at first I had been a little surprised but I also felt something stirring in me.

As the days went by I found him more and more kinky. And since the sex was good I did not dislike the turn of events. I discovered his stash of leather restraints and I learned their use on me, most of the time, and sometimes I had the upper hand on restraining him.
Making love while spread eagle on the bed, naked and tied was definitely worth it.
Using a blindfold on top of that pushed the thing a tad further and it was amazing.
In a little while I started to pass more nights at James’, with David’s blessing, once I told him what was the secret.

It was around the expiration date of my visa when someone told the authorities that David was, as a matter of fact, a non practicing heterosexual. And obviously the police must have put their eyes on him, so it was a matter of weeks before they caught him in an alley fondling a youngster.

He then faced two options: leave the country overnight, or face the trial, end in prison and then leave the country at the end of his sentence. I was really sorry for David, but the whole situation was much more dangerous for me.
So, the night before David packed to leave, I moved in with James, making my whole situation even more precarious, since David was not aware of my baggage.

At the same time, this turn of events upped my relationship with James, and he took me places around the Emirates.
I had not understood that there was so much brewing under the surface, but James was well introduced to some very interesting shit.
On the outside, society there is very rigid and lavish and very controlled, behind the curtains there are a lot of things that are best not shone in public. He brought me to wine tasting parties, in a nation where it is forbidden to drink wine.
We went to a shibari workshop, and we went to a latex fashion exhibition.
And I was so intrigued and intoxicated by the novelty of it that I did not comprehend the risks of the situation.

So, one night, he dressed as an Emirates' native and told me to don a hijab to attend something very weird. I was ordered not to talk, to keep the travesty.
There was a car waiting for us in front of the building and it brought us to a big stadium out of town.
It was obviously an event reserved for the upper class, I could not spot any foreigner through the slit of my dress. And as James walked with me in the venue, I could see that it was a horse track.
He leaned towards me.
“It took me two months to get an invitation, Martina. It is one of.the best kept secrets in the state.”
His excitement was contagious and I could feel my head literally buzzing from the sense of danger of the whole thing.
The surprise turned to amazement as I saw who was running on the race track.
There were men, on karts, pulled by women, dressed as horses.
Men, karts, women, horses.

I was lucky that under that dress no one could see my amazement, but I could surely see how James was turned on by this.
We stayed there all night. James bet and won a couple of races, and I stayed glued at his side as he was talking to people.
“Is she your wife?” One of them asked, pointing his finger at me.
“Yes, she is very fit. I was thinking about making her race, one time or another.”
As I listened to the dialogue, I struggled to keep silent, did he say that I was his wife? Did he offer me as a sort of horse girl?
Did it really make me horny?
The patron James was talking to, seemed very interested at the chance and he made a point to show us around.
He brought us to the stables and I could see the horses.
These were girls, each in one stall, that were treated exactly like horses. They were wearing harnesses, bridles and belts.
They had shoes, shaped like hooves, and you could see that their hands were restrained in some ways.
I was struggling to keep the pace, because I was imagining myself as one of them. And I heard the discussion between the two, picking up interesting bits.
“One of these beasts, and her owner, can easily get a lot of money.”
“They are treated like animals and everything is cared for. Their handlers take very good care.”
It could certainly be a way out from my situation, but what would be the cost?
These girls seemed tame in their stalls, could I face losing my freedom even to get back to my former life after what was presumably a certain amount of time?
James continued to talk with his host, and in the end, I could see that they exchanged business cards. As he read James’ name on the card, I think that he understood who we really were.
That night back at home, I couldn't sleep. I was thinking that I had nothing else to lose. I was stuck in a country without a visa, with a man that did not know my story, not even my real name. And we both were involved in some questionable activities.
And I had to rack up some money to be able to gain some sort of freedom.
In the following days, I started to broach the concept to James, first trying to ask if there was the chance for me to get a job, then circling around the main question.
Would it be possible to get me into that circle? I could easily make money, and repay him for his generosity.
At first he was reluctant, because he thought that it would be out of his depth. But the prospect to gain some money and to get into that circle of people was tempting. He imagined it could be a real boost for his status.
Then one day, I found a package on the way back from the gym. As I carried it inside, James told me that it was something he had bought for me.
He told me to strip, while he opened the cardboard box.
As I had just been to the gym, there were just a few clothes to shed, so in a couple of seconds I was naked in the middle of the living room.
The first thing out of the box was a harness made in suede leather. It was very similar to the ones I had seen on the horses.
It was formed by a corset-like cinch that went around my midriff and there were belts going up and down my body.
He started to tighten it on me and in a little time, I could feel its grip around my belly. Then there were a couple of belts going through my crotch and he placed it to either side of my pussy, then there was an upper part that crossed over my shoulders encircling and supporting my breasts.
As he closed the belts to measure, it became apparent that this thing was very similar to something that would be used on a horse.
Yet, as I looked at myself in a mirror, it enhanced my body. Meanwhile, he was picking some other things from the box.
The first was a pair of cuffs in the same leather of the harness that he proceeded to put on my arms, above the elbows.
And there was another pair that he tightened on my wrists.
They seemed sturdy but comfortable. The whole setup took another shape as he connected the elbow cuffs to some d-rings sewn in the upper rear part of the corset, pushing my arms behind and enhancing my breasts. And finally he connected the wrists to a couple of rings in the front of the corset,
“Wow. You are a natural.”
And even if I was not happy to have lost the use of my hands, I had to concede that the thing was pushing my butt out and my tits forward.
James was so excited that he fished out something else from the box.
As he put it on me, I could see that it was an intricate glob of straps that went around my head, from the crown to the neck. As he adjusted the length, the harness fit my head, with even the blinders to block my side vision. Just like a horse.
And finally he told me to open up to wedge a metal bit in my mouth.
“Hey.” I said with surprise, but the metal pushed my tongue down enough to make my words slur.
And there I was, a horse looking at me from the mirror. James's hands were touching my breasts, and coming down on my crotch, and I was not able to stop him.
“What if I brand my name on your ass? With a red hot iron?”
Even the chance to be treated like a horse, branded and owned, made me immediately wet.
As I was drinking my image from the mirror, he removed his clothes and he was naked behind me.
I could feel his hand on my back as he pushed my head down and then I sensed the tip of his cock prying open my own wet pussy.
He grabbed my hips and started to push against my ass.
It was sudden, intense, I had to force my legs not to budge under his relentless attack.
And it was wonderful, I did not imagine that being fucked from behind like a mule, would be so satisfying. The gag did a good job to suppress my moans, and even if I wanted to take part in it, my hands were well secured out of the way.

He kept me in the harness most of the day, that time. And we had sex multiple times.
Every time I walked in front of a mirror, I couldn't stop from looking at my body.
The straps in the crotch were surrounding my pussy and ran around my trimmed bush, and they connected on the corset in the back lifting my butt.
James told me that I was supposed to break in the leather, to make it contour my body and so while tightening some straps along the way, he picked other implements from the package.
In the order, he added some tight cuffs that circled my legs above the knee, and connected them to the corset.
Then he made me wear some heels and he applied some cuffs on my ankles. These had a strap going under my feet, so once that was closed there was no way for me to get out of those shoes.
As uncomfortable as it was, the posture it forced me to keep was very sensual, pushing my butt out.
Then he placed the bit in my mouth once again and placed some bells on my nipples using clips pinching my skin.
If not for that gag, I would have screamed from the top of my lungs. From that moment, whenever I moved around the flat I could hear the gentle jingle of those bells clipped on my breasts.
“If you want, I can find someone to place some piercings. Please, Martina, just the last thing.”
In his hands another bell had appeared. It was connected to a chain whose ends were a couple of clips.
He sat on the sofa and asked me to come near.
His head was at my pussy height, I felt conscious knowing that he was right in front of my dripping snatch.
First I felt him parting my knees with his hands, and then I felt two clicks.
I looked down and there was a spreader bar between my thigh cuffs, keeping them at a feet apart. Then he placed his hands on my butt and started to lick my labia, using his tongue to part them and proceed further.
My hands started to fight against their restraints, but the clips were good and the leather sturdy. And on top of that he had tightened the elbow cuffs pushing them further towards the back.
This forced my hands up and far away from his tongue.
James was very proficient with his tongue and I was panting with arousal, then suddenly he stopped and I felt two sharp pains in my nether region.
He stood up from the sofa and went into the kitchen.
My protests were muffled by the bit, and when I turned to follow him I noted two things.
The spreader bar forced me to walk with my knees apart, in a weird gait. And there was another noise following my movements.
As I moved again in front of a mirror I saw that he had clipped the bell to my labia and the thing was now pulling at my skin while dwindling between my spread legs.
I had been reduced to a pet that could only follow its master from room to room, desperately seeking a cuddle or attention.
And that excited me, to no end.

James freed me later that night, not before having fed me through the bit, and not before taking advantage of my arousal.
Needless to say, the contents of that box became intertwined with our erotic endeavors.
Sometimes all of them, sometimes just part of them.
James loved to bring me about with the highest heel I could sustain, locking them on with those ankle cuffs. I could hide them under my trousers, but knowing I could not get them off was fueling my libido.
And we returned to the race track, with me in full horse regalia, under my hijab. Without the bells and the bar, of course. But with all the other restraints, all of them.
One of those night, when we returned back home, after he had taken advantage of me, I experienced the most amazing wet dream of my life.
In the morning it was so vivid and so realistic that I carry it with me to this day.
I dreamt that, without my consent, James would pull that heavy garment protecting me and make me run on the track, in front of everyone.

We had even talked about that, but I told him that I was not ready. Besides, standing at his side, trussed and restrained, while he was speculating to use me like a horse, trussed and restrained, was getting me horny more and more.
When we returned back home, we fucked like rabbits, most of the time, even before getting me out of my harness.

Right now, in the stable, I remove my wig before she has the time to use her crop on me. With a smirk on her face, the lady in black presents me with a harness for my mouth. The first part that is placed in my mouth is really shaped like a tube, but it has a form that goes not deep enough to trigger a gag reflex and there is an opening that lets the tip of my tongue move around. As the blacksmith is riveting together the strips on the back, I feel its constriction against my head. As with other moments in my life, I realize that I have no choice.

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JaniceNoyb
Tightly Hogtied
Posts: 241
Joined: 26 Apr 2019, 15:27

Re: No Choice - Pt.1

Unread post by JaniceNoyb »

Nice story. What is it about pony girls that makes them so sexy and attractive?

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