Many full moons had passed since Rubira had been led away as the sacrifice. She had seen, experienced and changed much, so far from her home. That could be seen clearly on her face now, as she glanced back furtively to the Master sitting in the pony cart while presenting her flank for the whip in perfect form.
Rubira's rump bore many such signs of the whip, that oh so cruel instrument that controlled her and kept her at the right gaits whenever she pulled, via her singlesleeve, any Master's pony cart.
She was now constantly gagged, except when the Masters allowed the use of her mouth, to please them or to be fed and watered. Her leather singlesleeve had also become permanently a part of her, to the point where her forearm muscles had atrophied from lack of use.
A leather girdle forever compressed her waist very tightly, and yet left her generous breasts and nether parts well exposed for the Masters' easy and frequent access. Another leather harness girt her legs at the knees, so all she ever could take was small, mincing steps during her daily pony cart service.
From Rubira's well butt-pluged anus flowed a beautifully thick pony tail, made from clippings of her flaming colored hair, the source of her name.
Her nose, nipples and clit were graced with piercings - the golden rings jiggling with her every movement. On special occasions, little gold bells were hung from the rings, not just enhancing the effect, but arousing her to near madness.
But worst of all, her left breast and left flank bore brands in the Masters' incomprehensible tongue - brands still throbbing so very often, burned deeply into her flesh. Often, when finally alone at night in her stall, she wondered what the brands' magic runes - S J - could possibly mean.