Abbie's Fashion Choices

Abbie wasn't sure exactly how she'd ended up as Elsinore's pony again this morning. She'd volunteered for the role in the euphoria that had engulfed her after the show in Manchester - her show, her first as a designer. Somehow she'd ended up reprising the role of pony the next morning and here she was for a third morning trotting between the shafts of Mistress Elsinore's gig.

Elsinore's! She told herself. She's my employer, not my mistress.

It wasn't that she minded exercising, she'd once rather enjoyed it, it was just that it was something she'd let slide in her pursuit of being a designer and forced, quite literally to do it now, she was actually quite enjoying it. It helped that the boots were cleverly designed to help her run, giving her more power and speed than she might otherwise have had like the blades of a para-athlete. Of course, the toys inside her that moved every time she lifted her legs added to that pleasure as did the gentle rub of the crotch strap against her sex; the bounce and tug of the nipple bells was quite nice too now she was used to them. But she had to acknowledge there was more; Abbie that pony was strapped in harness and bridled, the rubber coated bit between her teeth, a collar around her throat, her wrists were cuffed to the shafts of the gig; in submitting to the reins and the whip Abbie ceded control of her body to another - to her mistress.

No, not...

The snap of the whip on her bare buttock made her lift her knees higher and all those sensations intensified. She'd climaxed on that first morning, the orgasm making her stagger and had been disappointed on her second day that she hadn't managed it again.

Perhaps that's why I'm letting her do this to me.

The thought was followed by the disappointment of finding herself at the back of the mansion being drawn to a halt without the much hoped for orgasm.

'Good girl.' Elsinore dismounted the gig. 'Same time tomorrow.'

Abbie gave a curt nod. Ponies, she'd learned, did not speak.

She stood restless listening to the crunch of the designer's boots on the gravel as she walked towards the house, the blinkers and collar blocking her view of the woman. Presumably someone would come and release her at some point. It had been Bobby the previous day and Ramona the one before.

'Well, what have we here?'

Nisha!

The dark skinned girl appeared in Abbie's field of view. She was wearing the slashed white rubber minidress Abbie had given her over matching thigh boots along with her silver collar. Her chastity belt glinted in through the gaps in the clinging fabric. Fingerless gloves too, in white leather. And a whip, coiled in her hand.

'I've been sent to take you to the stables but I don't see why we can't go for a little ride first.' Her dark eyes met Abbie's. 'Unless you think it's beneath you to play pony for a fellow slave.'

Abbie inhaled, her nostril's flaring, breaking the woman's gaze as her flushed cheeks coloured more.

'I like a girl who knows her place.'

Abbie felt the woman's weight as she climbed into Elsinore's gig.

Our mistress' gig?

Nisha shook the reins but Abbie didn't respond. A second later the snap of the whip on her buttock set her in motion, all those sensations returning instantly as her boots crunched the gravel and the gig pulled on her harness and shoulders. The whip came again a moment later and Abbie strained to gain momentum then she was on the dirt path down the side of the formal garden, the wheels of the gig rolling more easily, a little downhill. The whip came again and Abbie found herself running, her body and mind filled with exhilaration.

*

If she had been disappointed to find herself at the end of her first circuit with Elsinore, feeling the drag of the reins as they approached the stable block after her second with Nisha left her almost forlorn. Again, she had not quite managed to climax but somehow that had not mattered, the sheer exhilaration of the situation, of the tight harness and the cuffs on her wrists, the collar and the tail and the toys inside her and the demands of the whip striking her buttocks and then back and then shoulders repeatedly had excited her more than she might have believed so that she stood now beside the stable, chest heaving as she gasped for air around her bit; sweat was pouring off her skin, running into her eyes and making them sting just as it irritated the weals on her back and buttocks.

'Quite the little pony girl.' Nisha stood beside her. 'I might take you out again.' Her finger stroked the side of Abbie's breast.

Abbie stood rigid, staring ahead, aware of her laboured breathing, the rise and fall of her little breasts, the gentle weight of the little bells on her now aching nipples; the toys inside her - the vaginal plug and the tail - wondering how she could possibly have ended up her like this, feeling like this.

Pony girl's don't speak. Thank god!

Nisha unclipped her from the gig and Abbie did not resist as her arms were guided behind her, the wrist cuffs snapped together - easy for another to open, impossible for the wearer. She knew, she had designed them. Designed the harness too.

'Shall we go inside.' Nisha took up her reins and Abbie followed meekly.

I really should tell her to stop.

Pony girls don't speak.

The stable was cool and smelt of straw and damp. Her boots clip clopped on the concrete floor. There was a harnessing bar hanging from the ceiling - about three feet long, designed for the pony to hold onto while she was suited and booted; a design based on the lacing bars of old. The kind used in Stanton drawings to hold unwilling captives as they were strapped into ever increasing bondage. This one had clips on the end and, a moment later, Abbie stood beneath it, her cuffed wrists held apart above her head.

Nisha began be removing her bridle and Abbie stretched her jaw, enjoying this small newfound freedom. Then she crouched and removed the pony boots. Without the extra height of their internal blades Abbie was left her stretched onto her toes and when Nisha added a spreader bar to her ankles, she could only touch the floor with the tips of her big toes.

'Perfect.' Nisha appeared before her smiling, teeth white against her dark skin. 'Would you like me to take off the nipple bells.'

Abbie nodded.

Nisha flicked the right one with her finger. 'What was that?'

'Yes, please.'

'Yes, please, Mistress.'

Abbie looked at the girl offering a silent plea then relented. 'Yes, please, Mistress.'

'Good girl.' Nisha released her right nipple and Abbie gasped as the blood flowed back in to it.

A second later Nisha's mouth was over her throbbing nipple, her tongue teasing it, caressing it.

'Shall I do the other one?' The girl's cheeks were flushed now as if she had been running alongside Abbie.

Abbie swallowed. Closed her eyes, opened them again. Met Nisha's gaze.

'Yes, please, Mistress.'

Nisha positively beamed at her.

This time, as she sucked Abbie's left nipple, her fingers toyed with the right one.

Then she straightened, facing Abbie.

'You're going to have to tell me some time.'

Abbie stared at her blankly, aware of her nipples throbbing and her desire to feel the girls' mouth on them again.

She's just one of Elsinore's models. I don't have to call her mistress.

'I'll get my whip then.' Nisha turned and Abbie watched her walk to the peg on which she'd hung it. The girl looked good, that white rubber dress, stretching beautifully over her full curves.

If only she wasn't wearing that chastity belt.

Shit! What am I thinking?

'I don't understand.'

Nisha turned letting the coils of the whip fall.

'Please.'

'Mistress! I told you to call me mistress.' Nisha lifted the whip and flicked it, the crack echoing loudly in the confined space. Abbie flinched.

'Sorry, Mistress, but I don't understand.' Abbie could hear the sudden anxiety in her voice.

'I think you do.'

Nisha draped the whip across Abbie's shoulders from behind, pulling it against her throat then held it in one hand as the fingers of her other hand toyed with one of Abbie's nipples.

'It's the control you love isn't it?'

'Control?'

Nisha pinched the nipple.

'You like to be controlled, don't you. That's why you dress like you do, design the clothes you make. You want to be made to wear them.'

Abbie swallowed, her mouth dry as understanding dawned.

'In collage...'. She licked her lips. 'I met someone. He frightened me at first but then I... understood more about him. I mean I did the designs before - the leather and stuff - and I think that's what made him single me out. He... encouraged me and I wore them for him. He introduced me to bondage too. Not the S&M scene - he just liked to tie me up...'

'Go on.'

'I liked it too. It seemed the logical extension of my designs but I wanted people to be able to wear them... to enjoy them. He wanted them to restrain me. We argued over it. Then... he released pictures of me in bondage. I didn't know he'd taken them but everyone in my year must have seen them... everyone in the college.'

'You reported him?'

'No, but some friends of mine did. He was expelled.'

'And you stayed.'

'I thought about leaving but a lot of the girls were very supportive. Those who didn't regard me as a slut, anyway.'

Abbie knew she was blushing as she always did when she recalled the incident. Recalled that terrible moment of revelation and all that followed. The investigation by the college. The final verdict which she hadn't expected.

It was a cliche to say it, but she'd thrown herself into her work after that - not that she hadn't worked hard beforehand. However, she'd also tried to distance herself for it - distance herself from the erotic pleasures wearing the clothes she designed. To strengthen her resolve, she'd even designed and made her own chastity belt, fashioning it from leather and locking in place with keys she posted to her parents. She could have cut it off but that would have been admitting defeat and she'd stitched steel wire into the seams to make that difficult.

It wasn't that she didn't get offers. She wasn't unattractive and she had a good body and she was into fetish clothes. A couple of times she'd even been tempted but the chastity belt - and the metal one she'd bought in her second year had kept her focussed. Keeping a promise to herself, she'd shed it when she'd graduated and, aside from a few slip ups she'd been abstemious, finding after a while that she'd actually enjoyed denying herself - feeling a satisfaction and using her desire as a marker of whether she'd achieved what she wanted in her designs.

Chastity was one thing. Bondage was another. Although she'd longed for it, she'd not indulged. In fact she'd not experienced bondage until Elsinore had used the cuffs on her at the show. Perhaps this was why her designs had become increasingly restrictive lately. She'd thought about it for days afterwards, even as she was putting the finishing touches to her designs and making her samples. Then, in the garden of Elsinore's mansion, she'd been cuffed again and, as the designer had lead her once more leashed all those sensations had come back.

And seeing Ramona staked out, naked at Elsinore's feet like a confirmation that it was the way things were done in Elsinore's circle.

Then there had been the orgasm in the rubber suit she'd designed. She thought she might have passed out from its intensity. All that constricting rubber making her so utterly helpless.

*

As Nisha lead her back to the house, Abbie was still unsure if she was relieved or disappointed that their encounter had ended. After her confession, the buxom dark-skinned girl had cuffed her wrists behind her and lead her leashed and collared and completely naked into a shower in the stable block where she had stripped and then washed Abbie, her hands running over Abbie's body, lingering, teasing but never long enough. Part of her had wanted to yield to the obvious need in her body and that she saw clearly in the other girls, in the way she moved, rubbed herself lasciviously against Abbie's body, soaped herself down, hands lingering on stiff nipples and between parted thighs.

Abbie had wanted to scream at her but somehow held back from seeking the release her body so desired.

Now, she blushed as the back door of the house came into view and she saw Bobby standing there waiting for her.

'You took your time!' He said as she approached.

'We've been having a nice little chat,' Nisha said. 'Abbey's been telling me why she's so kinky.'

'Does one need a reason?'

'No.' Nisha laughed. 'But it's nice to know about people.'

'I'll take it from here.' Bobby took Abbey's leash from Nisha. 'We have work to do.'

'I'll see you later.' Nisha flashed Abbey a smile and slapped her bottom before sauntering off, her rounded bottom swaying.

'I'm glad to see you're getting into the swing of things here.' Bobby made not attempt to release her, simply turning and leading her into the house. 'Mistress wants us to make up the bitch suit.'

'Oh.' Abbie's heart fluttered in her chest, stopping abruptly.. 'Er, has she said who'll be wearing it?'

'I think we both know the answer to that one.' Bobby tugged on her leash.

'Yes.' Abbie shivered, a reaction which had nothing to do with the coolness of the passageway.

'She's made a few suggestions too.' Bobby lead her into the studio. 'Modifications.'

The shiver became a shudder.

'Here.' Bobby unrolled the design. 'The suit was there - her space age design in glistening silver faux leather, heavy buckles, a faceless woman down on all fours, limbs folded and strapped tightly in place, her breasts and sex bare - and there glinting, a silver ring through each of her nipples, large and bold like hoop earrings; and then down the sides of her sex, now gaping a line of smaller rings, four on each side through eyelets in the suit, locking it to her and spreading her labia, a larger ring at the bottom clearly pierced her clitoris, a large heavy ring that looked solid enough to chain a girl up by.

'She wants a flap to cover the sex.' Bobby said. 'It locks to the thicker ring here.'

Abbey gaped at it, a shiver of desire running through her.

'I'm... I'm not pierced,' she mumbled as if it was an excuse to avoid what was about to happen.

'We'll do the basic design for now,' Bobby reassured her.

'Yes.' Abbie exhaled. 'Wait... where is that leash attached?'

The drawing showed the woman's face hidden by a dog mask that was now muzzled and the leash, rather than being to a collar or harness seemed to go into the mask.

'Nasal piercing.'

'How...?' Abbie shuddered again, her nipples stiffening. 'I mean 'no'. I'm not being lead like that.'

'Then shall I get my piercing gun for the others?'

'No.' Abbie took a step back wishing she could lift a hand to protect her nipples. Surely Bobby wouldn't force them on her. 'Wait. Piercing gun? You said a needle.'

'I was being melodramatic although that is how Mistress did my nipples.'

'Could... could you untie my wrists?'

'Of course. You won't be much use to me with your hands cuffed.'

*

They worked for most of the morning cutting the silver faux leather; Bobby once more showing his skill with the industrial sewing machine as she folded and shaped the edges, ensuring the flaps and tongues were smooth. Needing to model the garment as it took shape, Abbie remained naked. They added purple straps in consideration of Elsinore's modifications and large showy silver buckles to the multiple rows of straps that would pin Abbie's arms and legs and sewed gloves that would fasten her hands to the thick, studded posture collar. Then, with Abbie strapped inside the basic suit, down on her knees and elbows, Bobby took casts to make the pads that she would 'walk' on.

'I can get these moulded,' he said after releasing her. 'Do you want to start on the mask?'

Abbie nodded, her body still trembling after being confined in the tight leather.

The muzzle Elsinore had added seemed to reflect the fact that the wearer would be gagged. The matching cage that would go around her torso beneath her breasts also added a layer of bondage. She rather enjoyed shaping the face and ears, smiling as she realised she had created the face of one of her childhood pets. The mask had internal straps a little like the bridle she wore when playing pony and a single strap at the back that fastened to the suit between the wearer's shoulder blades forcing the head up. Combined with the post collar, it would leave the wearer - leave her - with almost no head movement. The thought of being lead along by her nose ring at once terrified and thrilled her.

But that wasn't going to happen.

How had Elsinore even known she had a septal piercing?

Unless.... The obvious implication didn't bear thinking about.

When she'd finished the mask, Bobby helped her fashion the steel muzzle and the matching cage to lock around her waist.

'So, while i'e the metalworking tools out, what are we doing with the eyelets?' Bobby asked finally.

'Eyelets?'

Bobby held up the suit slipping his hand into the crotch flap.

'No!'

'Sure?'

'Yes.'

'Ok. Ready?'

'I should probably empty my bladder first,' Abbie said.

Bobby looked at her. 'I'm sure Madam would allow you to do it later.'

'Absolutely not!'

Then, she succumbed to the inevitable. The collar that forced her head back. The mitts. The weight of the leather over her shoulders as she knelt up and straps that pinned her forearms to her biceps. The straps around her breasts, squeezing them gently in a way that she knew would soon have her nipples throbbing and swollen. Bending forwards to rest on her elbows as the suit hung over her buttocks. The straps on her thighs and shins. The leather tight against her inner thigh spreading her labia even without the piercings.

'Ready.'

'As I'll ever be.'

He gently pushed the tail plug into her, making her sphincter spasm briefly as it popped inside, then strapped it to the back of the suit. The tail was different from her own design - another modification of Elsinore's. The tip of the tail, rather like a poodle's pom-pom was weighted and stood up. There was little doubt of the effect this would have as she walked.

'It looks good.' Bobby said.

'Yeah, right.'

'Sorry.' He flicked it. 'I can't resist a nipple bell either.'

Abbie frowned wondering why she was so turned on by being completely helpless, her eyes flicking to Bobby's kilt and considering what lay beneath. She was sure that, in its cage, his cock was stiffening - stiffening at seeing her like this, at touching and handling her.

She remembered Nisha handling her so casually in the stable. The utter control the girl had demonstrated over her.

'You'd better put the mask on.'

He pushed the leather plug into her mouth and pulled the straps over her head, tucking her hair in as best he could, before tightening them. Although she'd tried it while creating it, the finished product, now that she was strapped into the suit, was claustrophobic. And it became more so as he locked the steel cage around her waist.

'It looks amazing!' Bobby said, his voice sounding distant, muffled by the mask but his admiration was genuine.

She couldn't see him now, her field of vision limited far more than when she wore the pony bridle with its blinkers.

'Ready?'

'Ungh.' The plug was a very effective gag.

There was a tug on the mask and she followed obediently, relieved that the leash wasn't connected to her septal piercing.

*

Following Bobby along the hallway reminded Abbie of being lead along in the confinement suit with its tight hobble skirt and towering toe boots. Then, she had been plugged in her sex and wearing a butt plug. This time she only had the butt plug to worry about. Not that it was worrying - the constant movement as her tail bobbed was far from unpleasant. Moving like this was considerably easier than in the rubber suit once she became used to it although she could immediately feel the strain on her abs.

If she was going to be kept like this for some time she would have to do a few more crunches.

But what was she thinking? She wasn't going to be kept like this, she was modelling her new design for her boss and would then be released. Elsinore would, no doubt, be disappointed that she hadn't accepted all the modification but she'd get over it and when Abbie was released they could discuss it face to face like any other employer and employee. Perhaps if one of the models could be persuaded...

'Miss Davies, Madam.' Bobby announced.

The doors to the salon opened and Abbie crawled in. She caught a brief flash of her mistress... not mistress... employer, reclining on the chaise in her usual purple - a lacy robe and what looked like very glossy satin lingerie beneath then, thanks to the mask she lost sight of her.

She stopped, kneeling on the thick carpet, recalling how she had been appraised previously - once, helplessly confined, by at least half a dozen people. This time, as far as she could tell it was just Mistress Elsinore and Bobby.

Mistress Elsinore. No, just Elsinore. Although, why did she experience goosebumps as she thought about that.

'Not all my modifications then.'

'Nnngg.' Abbie tried to shake her head, hoping that the tiny movement the collar and straps allowed would make it clear.

'Disappointing but I suppose we have to allow for creative differences.' Elsinore's feet appeared in Abbie's field of vision. Were those rubber stockings? She was wearing shiny purple ankle boots that matched the straps of Abbie's suit.

'Leave us.' Elsinore dismissed Bobby.

Abbie waited. Elsinore would no doubt express her displeasure but...

'Another masterpiece.' Elsinore said.

Abbie felt a tug on her lead and followed. The chaise creaked as Elsinore sat. A hand stroked Abbie's flank and over her bottom.

'You really are very accomplished.'

Something, Elsinore's foot brushed Abbie's left nipple.

'And this tail is so playful.'

Abbie gasped as her tail was flicked one way and then the other.

'You're missing out, you know.'

The boots flicked across Abbie's left nipple again, the laces catching it and the toe striving for her right nipple.

'I know you have it.'

Fingers traced across Abbie's bottom.

'Ung.'

'If you've got one there, you'll find the others easy. And a lot more rewarding.'

Something brushed Abbie's sex.

'And, rings down here can be used to lock you away.'

A pressure over her clit.

'No more need for chastity belts.'

Elsinore sat back but the toe of her shiny boot continued to tease Abbie's nipple.

'Lie down.' Elsinore's voice took on a commanding tone.

Abbie lay, lay on the boot, pressed against her nipple.

'And roll.'

Abbie rolled onto her side.

'Good girl.' Elsinore stood, bent, slipped a lock through the rings on the insides of Abbie's knees and snapped it shut. She repeated the process with Abbie's elbows pinning them together. Then she stood and left the room leaving Abbie lying on her side, helpless.

*

'Well, what do we have here.' It was Olga's voice.

Abbie wanted to roll over to face her but with her knees and elbows cuffed in front of her and the collar and straps holding her neck extended, there was nothing she could do.

'Have you been a naughty girl?'

'Unggh.' Abbie shook her head the fraction she was able.

'Then why are you all tied up like this?'

Something flicked Abbie's tail.

'Ungh.'

'Don't pretend you don't enjoy being treated like this.'

'Nngh.' Abbie shook her head again, moving her captive limbs restlessly, the locks holding her knees and elbows together clicking.

'You're becoming quite the little sub what with pony play in the morning and being one of the family pets in the afternoon.' Olga laughed. 'And then there was that little chat you had with Nisha this morning.'

'Ungh!'

'We're all friends here.'

A hand stroked Abbie's bottom then fingers pinched her right nipple.

'I heard you'd been left on your own so I thought I'd come and keep you company.'

She pulled on Abbie's suit, spinning her round. Abbie caught a flash of stockinged leg and leather, bare skin, strappy heeled sandals and something else in her vision. Olga was squatting in front of her legs spread. And the thing in front of her was large and black and very masculine looking.

'I don't wear this for just anyone, you know.'

The strap-on bounced.

Around it Abbie could see sheer black stockings and suspender straps, a wide suspender belt, matching bra, Olga's steel collar, her pretty thin face and ice blue eyes. The blonde was smiling.

'I mean' I'll probably be punished.' She stood and lifted Abbie up onto her knees and elbows.

'You're your own worst enemy you know. These things you design. I mean it's as if you just want to be kept in bondage.'

'Unghh.'

'I think we both know you do.'

Something pressed against Abbie's sex, something hard and rubber. She was aware of Olga kneeling behind her, stockinged legs on either side of Abbie's her hands holding onto the suit to keep Abbie upright.

'I'll stop of you tell me.'

It pushed inside her, just a fraction. Abbie hesitated for a moment then pushed back.

'Good girl.'

A hand cupped Abbie's right breast, fingers seeking the nipple.

Another inch went inside her.

Unnghh.'

'What's that? You want more?' Olga laughed. 'Let's not rush things.'

Another inch.

Abbie whimpered into the plug.

A hand cupped her right breast.

Another inch.

Fingers played with Abbie's nipples. The tail moved slightly. Another inch slipped inside her and Abbie knew it was all true. She loved the way Elsinore... Mistress Elsinore was treating her. Loved the bondage she was being forced to endure. Loved that she was designing and creating ever more restrictive clothes that would make her more and more helpless.

She climaxed without meaning to. A wave of pleasure consuming her, churning her around, battering her helpless body with barely imaginable pleasures.

'You are eager.'

Abbie could barely hear her. Tried to say she was sorry although she wasn't except that cumming without permission made her seem less submissive than she actually wanted to be. It was so much easier when she kept herself in chastity. And the need that built up. It had been like a constant foreplay.

'Want to cum again.'

'Mmmnngg.'

'Go on then.' Olga pinched Abbie's nipples hard and drove the phallus deep inside her.

Still reeling from the first orgasm, Abbie came again, jerking violently, forcing herself back, impaling herself on the huge strap-on.

'Unnnggghghghghghghghg.'

'Oh, good girl. Let it all out.'

*

'And how are you getting on?' It was Elsinore's voice.

Abbie blinked awake. She was back lying on her side, still in the suit. The pleasures of the orgasm still lingered and she wondered how long it had been since Olga had left her. After making her cum, the blonde had sat with her, reclining between Abbie's arms and legs, her back resting on Abbie's body, her fingers intermittently teasing and caressing. Then she'd gone and Abbie had dozed in a contented submissive helplessness.

'Mmmmm.' Abbie smiled around the plug in her mouth.

'And have you considered?'

'Mmmm.' Abbie nodded the fraction the collar and the strap on the back of her head allowed.

'Good girl.' Elsinore rang a bell and a few moments the door opened.

'Ms Davies has agreed to a full fitting.'

'Yes, Madam,' Bobby said. 'I'll get right onto it.'

Abbie was aware of the locks at her elbows and knees being removed and then she was helped up into a crawling position. A tug on her leash set her padding at Bobby's side.

'You sure about this, Ms Davies?'

Abbie only hesitated for a moment.

'Mmmm.'

She was lead down a side passage to a part of the mansion she had not seen before and then into a room with a rubber floor that was clearly a play dungeon with various restraints - a post and a cross, a wheel on the wall, a tilted table. Bobby had her kneel over a block and once more the rings at her elbows and knees were used to lock her in place then a strap was placed over her back.

He fitted the eyelets to the suit first, his fingers brushing her sex as he lifted the material away.

'Ready?'

'Mmmm.'

Something cold washed against her sex and she giggled. Then his fingers ran across her sex.

'Mnnggh!'

'Just applying little anaesthetic.'

There was a few minutes pause then a pulling on her labia on the right side. Abbie braced herself and then there was an audible snap. She jumped more from the noise than any pain.

'You'll have to hold still.'

'Mmm.' She nodded, the leather strap at her neck creaking.

Another pull. Another snap but she was ready this time although the pain made her cry out.

'One down, seven to go.'

For a moment, Abbie wondered if she could go through with it but the pain of the piercing quickly faded.

Snap!

Snap!

It was a strange feeling being like this, being handled so intimately with no control over how she was touched but Bobby's presence was comforting. She felt safe with him. Safe locked away in this cocoon that held her, caressed her. The pain of the piercings was fleeting but the warmth in her sex rose and by the last one she was panting, her sex pulsing, almost disappointed that it was over.

'Ready for the big one.'

'Mmmmm.'

His finger entered her and she instantly wanted more inside her. If only he wasn't locked away. But even so, there must be something in this room that could be used to satisfy her.

'Aggnnhhhg.' Abbie screamed as her clit was pierced. A memory of her septal piercing flashed into her mind - her then boyfriend, the one who had betrayed her, his face blurred with tears even though she had tried not to cry. Tears blurred her vision again this time and she blinked them back.

'You ok, Ms Davies?'

'Mmmnn.' Abbie nodded.

'Let's give it a few minutes before we do your nipples.'

Abbie wished all men could be so caring.

*

Abbie was held up on her knees as close to spread-eagle as a girl in a suit like this could be, feeling like a bizarre five pointed star. Her sex was throbbing even though Bobby had smeared more anaesthetic and antiseptic cream on it. She could smell antiseptic tang over the scent of the rubber and leather in the room and her own sweat.

'Needle or gun?' His face appeared in her vision, leaning over her.

'Ung.'

'Right you are.'

She almost fainted when she saw him holding it, glad that her other piercings had been done in a way she could not see. She wondered briefly if she was expected to ask for the needle but then it wasn't her mistress doing this to her, it wasn't a demonstration of her devotion. It wasn't even as if Mistress... Elsinore was her mistress.

Bobby took hold of her right nipple.

'Nggghh.' Abbie shook her head.

'You want to needle?' Bobby sounded amused.

'Ngggnnh.'

He released the straps of her mask and removed it in what felt like a rush of cold air on her flushed cheeks. It took a moment to realise she could speak, could move her mouth.

'Elsinore,' she gasped.

'You want Madam to do it?'

'Mmmmm.' The collar still made nodding difficult.

'She'll be pleased with that.' He set the piercing gun down. 'But she'll expect to use a needle.'

'Mmmm. Ish ok.' It was as if she had lost the power of speech.

'I'll be right back.'

*

Even with her resolve steeled, Abbie jumped when the door opened. Typical of Elsinore, the woman had entered through a door which Abbie had not expected. Coming in from the grounds, more or less behind her where she had no warning. She'd had some time to reflect on her decision, balanced on her knees, arms spread, head tipped back by the thick collar; her sex increasingly throbbing but, if Elsinore wanted her treated this way then the woman would have to look her in the eye as she violated her body.

'I'm flattered.' Elsinore said.

When she appeared in Abbie's field of view, the designer already wore a pair of surgical gloves.

'You're quite sure about this, I take it.'

'Yes.' Abbie had to force herself not to say the word 'Mistress' although it teetered on her tongue. What was this woman if not the dominatrix who controlled her life? Who now demanded even more control.

'Good girl.' Elsinore stroked a hand over Abbie's hair, damp from her time in the mask. 'And how are we doing this?' She held Abbie's gaze.

'Do you expect me ask for the needle?'

'It's your choice.' Elsinore glanced at Bobby. 'He's just a masochist if it helps.' She bent and rubber Abbie's left nipple. 'You'll thank me soon enough.'

Abbie swallowed. 'I'll let you decide.'

'The gun then.' Elsinore held out her gloved hand and Bobby placed the piercing device in it.

'I can take the needle.' Abbie said it quickly through partly gritted teeth.

'I'm sure you can but I've just heard you scream and, like I say, it makes no difference.'

'I want the needle.'

'As you wish.' Elsinore passed the gun to Bobby and took the little tub of antiseptic solution, using a pair of forceps to hold Abbie's left nipple as she cleaned it, the cold solution making it tingle and swell.

'Should I gag her, Madam?' Bobby asked as he passed the needle to Elsinore.

'It might be kinder.'

Bobby held up a thin leather gag a little like one of the pony bits Abbie had become used to. She opened her mouth and he slid it between her teeth then tied it off behind her head.

'Ready?'

Abbie nodded and Elsinore took her nipple once more in the forceps, stretching her small breast then carefully pushed the sterile needle through the skin.

The pain was almost unbearable. Her nasal piercing and even her clit piercing had been nothing compared to the agony of the steel needle passing through her nipple. It felt like she was being burned with a huge skewer although the needle was sharp cold.

'Hold still!' Elsinore's voice was tense.

Bobby grabbed hold of Abbie, one arm around her shoulders, the other beneath her breasts.

Afterwards, she was proud that she didn't scream although she ground her teeth against the leather of the gag and strained against Bobby's strong arms. Her vision blurred with tears but she tried repeatedly to look at what was happening even though the heavy collar prevented. When it was over, she was drenched in sweat and panting hard, her nose running, saliva on her chin.

'All done.' Bobby held her more gently.

'Shall I move onto the other side?' Elsinore asked.

It was only afterwards that Abbie realised the piercings locked her into the suit. Exhausted after her ordeal, her body aching, her nipples especially throbbing, she made no resistance as the mask was reattached. Bobby released her from the frame that had held her still and she crawled at his side along the passageway to a small room in what must once have been the servants' quarters of the mansion. The only item in the room was the cage like the ones that the models were kept in and, when bobby opened the door she crawled inside as if it was a refuge more than a prison.

She remained locked into the suit for what turned out to be eight days with Bobby checking on her regularly, his hands touching her intimately as he spread the antiseptic ointments over her healing wounds. At night and sometimes during the day, she was kept in the cage in the small room although each day she was let out, taken for walks, made a fuss of by Elsinore and her staff. However, none of them touched her as intimately as Bobby.

Any concerns about her ability to walk in the suit soon evaporated although, lying in her cage on the first few nights, her abs ached as if she'd done a heavy work out; her shoulders too. Bobby eased the tightness of the straps at night but, locked in the cage, meaning she was never allowed to stretch fully. 'Can't have you playing with those piercings until they're healed,' he'd said when she had tried to demonstrate her need for more freedom. Although one night, when she had whimpered, he had freed her arms only to cuff them behind her back. It was like this that Nisha had found her, fingers slipping through the bars of the cage to play with Abbie's new nipple rings - something that left her panting.

Her days began with her mask being removed so she could be fed. She'd tried to speak the first morning but Bobby had silenced her. Ponies didn't speak and neither, it seemed, did pets. Eating like this, crouched over a food bowl was something she soon became used to but relieving herself in front of Elsinore or Bobby or even Ramona when she was taken for one of her walks took a lot more getting used to - especially on the first morning with Ramona when her tail was removed. She had been glad of the mask to hide her utter humiliation.

In the early days, the whole experience seemed surreal. For someone who had always driven herself, the enforced inactivity and the mundanity of her new existence was an anathema. There were moments when she wondered why she had allowed this to be done to her, wondered, if she asked whether she would actually be released or if the contract she had signed - those 'other sundry tasks as will be deemed appropriate' meant this was to be her life now. She thought at one stage, she might have a fever, certainly after all those violations of her body, especially the needles in her nipples might have caused a reaction in her body. It was difficult to tell, sweating in the suit, her cramped muscles, her body becoming used to the confines of its new role. She slept fitfully, jerking awake at times from increasingly vivid dreams which seemed to relate more and more to her situation - anthropomorphic animals, usually female in various forms of bondage, Olga-like mermaids in chains, harnessed centaur girls that might have been Nisha or Ramona pulling wagons, and in relation to the strangely futuristic animal she had made herself, captured space adventuresses bound by aliens who probed and tested them, subjected them to erotic torture; aliens who sometimes resembled her mistress in her shiny purple rubber stockings. Bobby was there too; sometimes he rescued her, sometimes he was the one inserting the probes into her body; once Abbie was herself the alien dominatrix watching him writhe as she tormented him, teasing his captive cock until it burst from its cage and devoured her. In lucid moments, she found herself wishing for a her sketchpad and a pen - if only she could use them in her current state to record her ideas.

The dreams - fantasies - she isn't sure - for they seemed to enter her waking state - left her more and more sexually aroused so that when she was released from her cage, she jumped up, eager to be touched, nuzzling her mistress' crotch until she was pushed away. She noticed Bobby's caged manhood too swelled when he handled her and, when the two of them were walked side by side, she rubbed against him hoping he might respond. Also, as she was walked, she arched her back to ensure her sensitive and newly ringed nipples brushed the grass and, in her mistress' salon rubbed them urgently on the carpet often earning herself a slap and a command to still. She found he could rub her sex too on the thick rough rug in the hallway and, at one stage had to be dragged to her cage by Bobby.

*

It was Nisha who released her - removing the piercing rings from her labia, healed now, effectively unlocking her from the suit - then replacing them with keepers - eyelets she later discovered that kept them from closing and made it easy to lock her to the suit and, as Elsinore had promised, to lock her away. Freed from the close confines of the suit she felt suddenly naked, the cool air on her flushed, sweaty skin; her mouth empty without the gag of the muzzle, the lack of tail felt strange too.

Her newfound freedom didn't last long, however, Nisha soon had her cuffed and then the events of their encounter in the stable played out again - Abbie lead into the shower, by one of her pierced nipples this time, then standing cuffed in the warm jet of the water as the dark-skinned girl soaped them both down, her hands running freely over Abbie's naked skin then washing her hair. There was no holding back this time, however - the need for this something Nisha seemed to understand, just as Olga had understood a little over a week ago when she had used the strap-on. This time, when Nisha's hand cupped her breasts, pulling their bodies together, Abbie yielded to the girl's touch, pushing urgently against her and, when the those skilful fingers slipped between her thighs, tracing the little metal fastenings that now sat there, Abbie begged her not to stop. Then, she screamed as the pent up pleasure of her captivity was finally released in an orgasm that surged through her and made her knees buckle. Still gasping, she had turned and kissed Nisha full on the lips before dropping to her knees and pushing her tongue into the girl's pussy. Nisha had initially pulled away, something that had made Abbie cry out, but it was only so the girl could mount the unit in the bathroom and spread her thighs more widely allowing Abbie unrestricted access to her sex.

Then Nisha had washed them again before drying her and leading her down to the studio where Bobby was waiting.

Abbie had been expecting it - expecting it sooner than it happened. It was over quickly and almost painlessly, a quick blur of tears - nothing like the piercings she had endured. And there she was, a ring once more hanging below her nose. The first time she had regretted it a little but not this time. The reason she had never removed it was because the cartilage would never heal and she always thought that a nose ring like this was something that a rising star in the fashion industry should have.

*

The next two weeks saw Abbie becoming used to her new role which, like the other residents and regular visitors to the mansion seemed varied. She presumed that those that worked for Elsinore presumably all had that clause in their contracts. She wore the suit most nights, usually being dressed and walked in it in the evening before being locked in her cage for the night. These walks were usually shared with Bobby and often were, Abbie discovered, social events with the models joining Elsinore and even, on occasions Ramona. She was sometimes walked in the mornings too, usually by one of the maids. It was during one of these mornings that she discovered Jasmine's fellow maid was called Carla. With the leash now connected via her mask's muzzle to her nose ring she was very obedient to whoever lead her although it did not prove as uncomfortable as she had expected.

Abbie's cage was moved into a room with those of Elsinore's resident models' and the three usually slept together albeit confined separately. The models often spent their nights in bondage too - either punishment for something they had done or at the whim of their employer and mistress.

In between her role as Elsinore's pet, Abbie still sometimes fulfilled the role of pony girl. After her close confines of the suit and the cage, running in relative freedom was something Abbie came to enjoy, especially after Ramona and Nisha took it upon themselves to teach her some of the finer points of pulling a pony cart. With her new piercings, she was spared the discomfort of bells clamped to her nipples although now found she carried more bells - one beneath her nose and another bouncing on her clit ring. On the occasions when she played pony, it was usually Nisha who stripped her of her tack and lead her into the shower where both girls shared delicious moments of mutual pleasure.

While Nisha preferred fingers and tongue, Olga seemed to enjoy use of the strap-on and 'rode' Abbie on the mornings she was the one who released her from her cage or put her to bed for the night. For her own pleasure, Olga seemed to like a large phallic gag she strapped into Abbie's mouth and, once again 'rode' her, before fastening Abbie into her mask for the night.

Among these 'other sundry tasks', Abbie was finally able to begin her fashion work again - sketching new designs including some of those that had filled her dreams and fantasies after her piercing. These were less a fashion show pieces and more a fantasy erotic art installation. She and Bobby also returned to creating costumes for her next show although Elsinore had not announced a specific event. She modelled some and created others for Olga, Nisha and even Bobby - as she had seen him in her dream - placing him in a cage skirt to allow glimpses of his captive cock, heeled boots and tight restraints. She enjoyed leading him into Elsinore and other designers in her circle, making an entrance as she had been instructed, forcing him to his knees in front of her, placing her boot on his nipple chain and making him lick at her own shiny leather stack heeled boot.

When displaying her work to Elsinore, Abbie always followed Elsinore's guidance on ensuring the models were displayed in a sexually aroused state; Bobby guiding her as she plugged Olga and Nisha when they used them, using remote controls to activate vibrators at crucial moments. When Elsinore was late back from a meeting, Abbie discovered that if she kept them teased and denied for the hours before leading them into Elsinore's presence, their bodies radiated even more sexual need. Abbie herself, of course, was subjected to similar treatment when she modelled her own designs and found she no longer cared if she climaxed in front of her employer or, as she was coming to think of her, mistress.

*

In among all this, Elsinore never seemed to enjoy the sexual fulfilment that all around her, including Abbie herself now, seemed to take for granted. There was little doubt she was aroused by the creations and displays Abbie brought before her, that she enjoyed the power she welded over them all - it was not unusual to find her sitting on her chaise with her booted feet resting on the back of a naked Ramona when they entered or to find the PA kneeling with her legs spread wide sucking her mistress' toes. But, as far as Abbie knew, her mistress never enjoyed an orgasm.

Bobby did, but only occasionally, as far as Abbie could tell. She was aware he was sometimes released from his cage and Abbie did wonder if perhaps that was how he and their mistress sated their needs. He used Olga and Nisha sometimes, usually because they discovered his temporary freedom and flaunted themselves outrageously until he took one of them aside, usually to the dungeon, and gave them what they desired. Abbie walked in on him once with one of the maids. He was manacled to one of the wooden pillars and Carla was teasing him mercilessly with her feather duster.

Seeing this made Abbie somewhat bolder in her demands of him - not through any threat of exposure but simply by gaining an understanding of this man who liked sometimes to be the family pet or their mistress' pony but who seemed perfectly capable of binding and dominating her when necessary. For his part, Bobby seemed to welcome Abbie's more demanding approach and it was what had lead to him being presented to Elsinore in the cage skirt. That he had enjoyed experience was obvious from the way his cock had been drooling so freely when she lead him from the room that the maids had been required to shampoo the carpets.

It was thus, after a session in the dungeon with Ramona and Olga in which the PA had demonstrated some of Elsinore's subtler kinks on the tightly restrained blonde before submitting herself for Abbie to practice that Abbie had decided to give a little instruction to Bobby. She was surprised when, on asking her mistress for the key to Bobby's prison - something she thought might incur the woman's wrath - she was simply given it even if, looking back, it would have been clear that her mistress that Abbie's desire for it had nothing to do with a new fashion object she wished to create.

*

The next morning, Abbie was awaiting Bobby in the studio wearing a rubber bra top with her nipples clearly on display, their silver hoops dangling suggestively and a cage skirt which clearly displayed the large clit ring and, if she bent over the line of eyelets piercing her labia. She was wearing her thigh high boots too and holding a crop.

'Are we embarking on a new project?' He asked, a little guardedly. His cock obviously swelling beneath his kilt at the sight of her.

'Yes.' Abbie sauntered towards him.

'What do you need me to do?'

'Take off that kilt for a start.'

His surprised expression made her smile as did the slight smirk beneath it.

'Yes, Ms Davies.'

'I prefer 'Mistress' today.'

'Yes, Mistress.' He undid the kilt and dropped it to the floor.

'The boots too.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'And that...'. She gestured to his cage, tossing the key to him.

'As Mistress wishes.'

Released from its confinement, Abbie was pleased to see his manhood stand to attention for her.

'I believe submissives customarily kneel for their mistresses.'

'Yes, Mistress.' He dropped to his knees.

'Hands behind your head.'

He obeyed and Abbie slowly circled him enjoying the sight of this man kneeling at her feet, his toned neatly shaved body, decorated with nothing but the chain between his pierced nipples and his obvious arousal at her presence.

'You find me attractive, don't you, Slave.' She emphasised the final word enjoying the sound of it and his reaction, a slight tensing - or perhaps that was his response to her boldness.

'Yes, Mistress.'

'Do you desire me, Slave?'

And how could you not, she wondered, dressed like this, oozing sex.

There was a pause.

'Yes, Mistress.' He was blushing furiously.

Abbie smiled to herself, the pleasure of hearing this admission adding to the rising desire in her own body. Her sex tingling, oddly focussed on the ring piercing it. She wanted to touch it. Wanted him to touch it. She shuddered glad that she was behind him and he couldn't see her tremble.

'Then why don't you take me?'

He twisted to look at her.

'Mistress, I wouldn't...'

'Why not? I give you permission.' She tossed the whip aside. 'Take me, use me.' She was standing with her hands on her hips all little sorry that she had relinquished her dominant power over him. Yet very aware of the other power she wielded.

He was on her in an instant, his strong arms around her body, crushing her to his firm body. She almost melted but held herself strong kissing him back when his lips met hers, lifting her thigh, pressing herself against his erection, the cage skirt lifting.

'The dungeon?' He asked.

'Here! On the table.' Her need was urgent and she didn't want to risk meeting someone else which might throw off her planned tryst.

He lifted her, swept the fabrics off, scissors and pins scattering then pushed her back, his cock sliding inside her, his fist in her hair, other hand pinning her wrist, lips finding hers again as she thrust to meet him, grinding against him, willing every inch of him to bury itself in her. She gasped as he bit her neck and then raked his back with the nails of her free hand. He came almost immediately and she was only just behind, her pussy spasming, squeezing him, milking him.

'Fuck!' She was breathless, not just from the physical act but the desire that had consumed her.

'Abbie? Ms Davies?'

His words brought Abbie back to reality and a smile curled her lips as her nails traced across his back.

Her other hand was squeezed tightly around the key to his chastity cage.

*

Epilogue

Abbie walked obediently at her mistress' side down the red carpet, soft beneath her elbows and knees. Although her vision was blocked by the mask of the bitch suit, she could hear the exclamations her presence was causing. It was not all acclamation but she and her mistress were certainly triggering a reaction. It was what fashionistas did and it felt good. Dipping her back just slightly, she allowed her large nipple rings to brush the pile of the carpet, dragging on her nipples and sending tingles of pleasure into her bare breasts. She was rolling her hips as best she could to make the tail wag with every step and, beneath the panel, a phallus was locked inside her sex. A vibrator hung from her clit ring.

Adrian Tchaikovsky's 'Dogs of War'. The premiere of JJ Abraham's new blockbuster. Animals taking on human characteristics and having to survive in a dystopic human world.

The great and the good were there - the stars, the producers, the A-listers, the wannabes, the hangers on and other minor celebrities. The press too. And Elsinore Ellis was there - probably would have been anyway even if she hadn't designed some of the costumes. There had been speculation in the press when she had accepted along with her 'plus-one': Ramona her PA or perhaps one of her inner circle? They had not expected a girl in a bitch suit, crawling at her side on a leash.

But then, that was Elsinore Ellis - fashion icon. And her ensemble fitted with the theme of the film.

At the door to the cinema, Abbie sat back on her haunches, displaying her breasts and their large silver rings, her caged waist, the bare tops of her thighs quivering as Elsinore activated the vibrator even as the two of them posed for photographers.

'Who's the girl?' Someone called.

Abbie smiled inside her mask.