Tails of Terror
by Sogo
- do not use without the author's permission.
1. PETS
Meaghan had no idea what had happened. The last thing she remembered was climbing into her bed the night before, and now here she was-- suddenly awake in a horse stable, naked, harnessed, and bridled. The brunette found herself shivering with fear when no explanation came to mind. Had she been drugged and kidnapped? Gone crazy and delusional? Or perhaps this was all just a bad dream from which she couldn't wake? She had no answers, and nothing seemed to fit.
She squealed with shock when two men appeared, her bound hands attempting unsuccessfully to cover her nakedness. They opened her stall and clipped reins to her bit rings, then dragged the reluctant woman outside as she squirmed and made incoherent protests.
Meaghan's heart nearly stopped when she saw what greeted her-- a whole farm where naked women pulled carts, plows, and sulkies as if they were horses instead of human beings. She was steered toward a training carousel, where she and three other women were made to prance around in a circle for the next hour.
After desperately waiting for a drink of water from the communal bucket hanging from a tree and eating an unappetizing meal from a feedbag, she was put to work with the other three pulling a wagon. The hard labor was relieved only by periodic breaks for water.
As evening arrived, she and the others were taken inside, washed down, given another meal, and put back in their stalls. No one spoke to her except to give orders; no one told her why she was there.
Meaghan lay on a bare mattress, still puzzled as to how she had gotten to where she was. The more she thought about it, the odder her predicament seemed. Though the other women seemed normal-- and just as baffled by the situation as she was-- the men who dominated them didn't seem quite right. Though they looked different from each other, their movements, their attitudes, and their personalities all seemed the same. Come to think of it, the food didn't seem quite right, either, and the trees didn't look quite right for some reason. Even the air and sky were different in a way that she couldn't put her finger on. What the hell was going on?
The next day provided no further clues. Nor did the day after that. By the end of her first week, Meaghan saw that her routine was not going to change in the foreseeable future.
-----
The aliens watched the tiny Earth women toil away in their artificial habitat. They didn't quite understand what it all meant, but they hoped that, by re-creating scenes they had captured from video transmissions released by that planet, they could gain some insight into how these little bipedal creatures thought and interacted. Given the complexity of their minds, though, it would take a while.
2. SUCCESS RATE
"Now, as I count down from ten, you will slowly emerge from your hypnotic trance. Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . ."
Dr. Sven Ghali watched as the relaxed woman gradually awakened. She smiled and jumped up. "Oh, thank you, doctor. I've already noticed an improvement since I started coming here. In fact, I'm down to less than half a pack a day. You really think this will help me stop my craving for cigarettes completely?"
The doctor smiled back. "I can guarantee it. My success rate for curing obesity, smoking addiction, and bad habits is very high. If it doesn't work-- which I doubt, as you are a very good subject-- you'll get double your money back."
The woman thanked him again and left. Dr. Ghali finished up his report on the just-departed client, then closed his office for the day.
He got in his car and drove a short distance to a horse farm out in the country. As he parked near the farmhouse, the caretaker came out to greet him. They exchanged pleasant talk as they waited.
Nearly two hours passed before a car turned into the dirt driveway and headed their way. It stopped next to the doctor's car, and the woman stepped out.
"Are you ready?" said the doctor.
"I'm ready," she said.
She followed the doctor and the caretaker into the stable. On his instruction, she completely undressed, then allowed the two men to harness and bridle her. They then led her to a stall and locked her in. As she glanced around her, a smile appeared beneath the bridle and bit, a smile of contentment and satisfaction.
"Think she'll work out?" asked the caretaker.
"I think so," said the doctor. "A few more sessions to reinforce the post-hypnotic suggestions and she'll never want to go back to her previous life." He turned to the woman. "You've taken care of all your personal and financial affairs like I've asked you to, haven't you?"
The woman nodded eagerly. She would do anything to please the doctor. The doctor smiled as he reached in and petted her head. Over the years, he had developed a good sense of who was suggestible and who wasn't.
The two men turned and strolled through the stable, eyeing the other pony girls, who perked up at the sight of the doctor, their nipples swelling with anticipation of more training and discipline. After all, they had come to adore and worship him; they would eagerly do anything he told them to, no matter what it was. They, too, had fallen under the spell of his post-hypnotic suggestions. In fact, he had become so successful at acquiring women this way that he had started a second business: selling ponygirls. He kept a half-dozen for himself and sold the rest. As they were very compliant and submissive, they fetched a very high price.
3. THE WARNING
Tara had pulled the desk back from the wall to retrieve her pen when she found the small computer disc taped to the back of the desk. She peeled it off, curious. Why would anyone need to hide something like that? Was it answers to a test? A virus? Something illegal? Perhaps one of the girls who had lived in the dorm room before her had done it.
The girl sat there on the floor, turning the disc around in her hands, debating whether it was safe to put it into her computer or not. Finally, she decided: What the hell.
She inserted the disc and opened the file, praying it wasn't anything bad. But there was only the text:
To whoever is reading this--
This is a warning that the college is sending
subliminal messages through hidden speakers in
every room. These messages are turning every
girl on campus into a submissive pony girl who
gives up her career, her friends, her LIFE so
she can be a bound and tortured slave to
someone's demented fantasies. IT CAN HAPPEN
TO YOU! The only reason I haven't been
affected is because I am profoundly deaf and
their sick messages haven't affected me.
Please get the warning out and stop them as
soon as possible! PLEASE!!!
The raven-haired girl stared at her computer screen. How odd. Who would perpetrate such a sick joke? Everybody knew that subliminal messages didn't work. She ejected the disc from her computer and tossed it into the trash.
Tara glanced at the clock. She had wasted too much time, and she was going to be late for her first class. The college girl turned off her computer, then undressed and laid out her things for the day.
She put on the pony boots first, then stepped into her harness, working the butt plug part of the pony tail deep into her rectum; her sphincter muscles were getting used to it now, and she had little trouble. As she tightened the straps, she made sure the electro-shock strip beneath the wide crotch strap was centered over her womanhood, because everyone knew that punishment was the best teacher. She studied herself in the mirror as she put on her bridle, making sure it was on straight and tight and that her mane was well groomed. She liked the way it looked on her, especially the way the rubber bit held her mouth open, making her look all the more vulnerable and dumb.
Tara hurried out into the hallway and stood at attention. The rest of the girls were already out. The Dorm Monitor turned her stern gaze on Tara.
"You're late!"
She pointed a device at the pony girl, and Tara felt an intense pain shoot through her clit. She screamed as stars exploded before her eyes and she fought to keep from dropping to her knees. When she recovered, the Dorm Monitor was in front of her.
"Are we going to let that happen again?"
Tears poured from the young girl's eyes as Tara stamped the floor twice with her left hoof.
"Good. Now let's get you ready."
The pony girl let the monitor pull her arms back and buckle the arm cuffs to the back of her harness.
When that was finished, the order was given, and the girls pranced in single file down the hall and out the door, their bare breasts bobbing in time with their manes and pony tails.
Tara didn't look, but she knew that all over campus, naked women were being herded toward the training grounds while fully-dressed and unrestrained men went to classes. She didn't question why.
4. MISTAKES CAN HAPPEN
Lara moaned as she partially regained consciousness, and she saw an unfocussed image of a white-coated man above her.
The man spoke: "Are you awake? Can you hear me?"
Lara moaned again.
"Do you understand what I am saying?"
The woman tried to shake her head, though it felt weird somehow. The man came into focus: a doctor.
"Good. You have been through a lot, and I want you to remain calm, as there are some issues we have not resolved yet--"
The doctor droned on, and Lara tried to think of why she was in the hospital. After a few seconds, it came to her-- she was there to get experimental injections of genetic material to increase the size of her breasts. The procedure was to only take a few days, but it was something that was still new and untested. At best, it was expected to be very taxing on her body as the new breast tissue grew and flourished over the next few days. But she sensed something was wrong. The doctor was explaining that there had been some kind of mix-up, but that they thought that they could somehow remedy the situation. Still half-conscious, the woman had no idea what he was talking about, and it seemed like he was reluctant to just come out and tell her what had happened.
The answer became clear when she saw her reflection in the bottom of the doctor's metal clipboard-- she now had the ears of a mule, and in place of her hands were two hoofs. It was then that she could feel the long bushy tail beneath her ass, and the short mane running from her bare head down the base of her spine. They had turned her into a human-animal hybrid!
Lara let out as scream, but all that came out was a loud braying.
5. TOY
Toy carefully removed the shoe rack and the throw rug, exposing the bare wood floor of the closet. She looked at the wood strips, knowing that her mistress kept her valuables under there somewhere, but clueless as to how to get the unseen trap door to open. She had seen her mistress deposit a fistful of cash when she had accidentally left her picture phone in the bedroom, but since the woman's body blocked some of the view, she wasn't able to see how it was hidden.
She felt around for any latch or hidden opening, but it was only when she began pressing down in various places that the spring-loaded door dipped and popped back up, revealing the secret compartment. Yes! thought Toy.
Unfortunately, everything was in a locked fireproof box, but the young woman figured it wouldn't be much problem to pick the simple lock. She lifted it out, pleased to find that it was heavy. There must be thousands in there, just in cash alone, she thought.
Toy was so pre-occupied with picking the lock, that she didn't hear her mistress come in. She heard the clicking of the woman's heels just seconds before the dominatrix entered. Frantically, she tried to shove the box back in the hole and close the door.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
"J-just cleaning your closet, Mistress. I-I accidentally found this secret hole."
It was no use trying to lie. Furious, Mistress grabbed her by the hair, threw her on the bed, and overpowered Toy. Within seconds, the younger woman was bound to the bed with the leather restraints Mistress always kept handy.
"Please, Mistress, let me explain!"
The older woman ignored her. Her only response was to throw a leather hood over her assistant's head and zip it tight.
She stood there looking at the captive woman on the bed, the young girl's eyes begging for forgiveness beneath the tight leather. What was she going to do with her? Her loyal assistant, stealing! There was no way she could tolerate that, and there was no way she could let this girl go free-- not with what she knew. She couldn't go to the police, because that was the money she made from her "work", and much of it was unreported to the IRS. She had to deal with this traitorous little bitch, somehow.
Suddenly, a name came to mind, a weird little old man who could solve her problem, a man whose work was shrouded in secrecy and fear. It would cost dearly, but she had no other choice. She pulled out her book of contacts and made a phone call.
-----
"And are you perfectly willing to obey my every order, no matter what?"
The college girl kept her gaze lowered. "Yes, Mistress."
Promising. Perhaps she had finally found a replacement for Toy.
"Good. Let me show you around. Back here is the bedroom and dungeon where I 'entertain' most of my clients. I expect them to be cleaned up after every session. Is that clear?"
The young blonde answered meekly: "Yes, Mistress."
"Good. There will be no shirking, belly-aching, or whining, either."
"No, Mistress."
"Now--." The dominatrix turned and saw that the girl's gaze was focussed on a small trinket high on a shelf unit in the corner of the room.
"Pay attention!"
"Yes, Mistress." The girl instantly dropped her eyes to the floor.
"You find something interesting, slave?"
"No, Mistress."
"Tell me."
The girl hesitated, then pointed to the mechanical knick-knack on the shelf.
The dominatrix's voice was firm. "You are to clean this room, but anything on that shelf is off-limits. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Especially that. It is a very valuable, one-of-a-kind gift made for me by a friend of mine. I will show you how it works, but it is not to be played with."
"Yes, Mistress."
The dominatrix brought down the small device. It was of a small ponygirl, completely outfitted with ponygirl tack, tethered to a training carousel by reins on her bit-rings. It was about several inches high and several inches in diameter. She set it down on the desk and pushed a button at the base.
The canopy of the training carousel began to move as tinny music began to play. The ponygirl pranced around in a circle, high-stepping to the simple cheerful little tune. The college girl crouched down to get a better look, mesmerized.
The dominatrix moved a small lever at the base, and the miniature scene sped up, the music going faster and the ponygirl cantering around and around, her bare breasts, mane, and ponytail bouncing in time to her stride. Shifting the lever to the final position caused the music to speed up even faster, and the ponygirl to gallop frantically in tight little circles, her pony boots beating a staccato rhythm on the circular base.
The college girl watched, fascinated as the tiny figure raced around and around and around. The detail was so incredible, even down to the tiny rubber bit and the metal buckles of the harness and bridle. And the ponygirl, with her heaving chest and moving eyes. Why, she looked so-- so LIFELIKE.
Copyright 2005 by Sogo