Chapter 7
I woke to the usual whipping, my world consisting again of
tight darkness smelling of rubber. At first I thought I had been
dreaming and that the ache in my crotch was from one of the usual
punishments, but as the rubber cocoon was removed and the dildos pulled
out I noticed that this pain was different and much, much worse. It
became painfully clear that it had not been a dream as the stable boys
forced me to walk over to the bathroom area. Every step was pure pain
and all doubt vanished when on of the stable boys held up a mirror to
show me my heavily bandaged crotch. I cried hopelessly but still the
stable boys went through the same morning routine as always, if a little
gentler than usual.
Once I had been fed, washed and outfitted in my usual pony gear I was
gently led to an enclosure and left to stand there. The pain was bad,
but standing absolutely still made it a little better so all day I stood
perfectly still in a corner of the enclosure. In the afternoon Master
came to see me. He looked very pleased, dragging a crying slave boy who
had obviously been whipped very badly as practically his whole body was
red from the beating. The young man, who was twenty-four at most, was
naked except for his stilettos and the leash around his cock, which
Master used to drag him by.
Master stood close to the fence and motioned me closer. Every so
gingerly, causing myself unbelievable pain I came up to the fence.
Seeing me like that made Master smile and seeing Master so obviously
enjoying the sight of me, castrated as I was now, actually made things
better. My tiny mind focused on my devotion to Master and since this
pleased him, I should be pleased too. This was for Master's enjoyment
and thus it couldn't be bad.
His enjoyment was so great that he threw the house slave up against the
fence and took him brutally from behind. The fucking took a long time
and as Master's orgasm approached his hands closed around the neck of
the slave, choking him until he passed out and fell limply to the
ground, Master's cum leaking out of his ass. Only slowly did he regain
consciousness, coughing and retching as he came to, crying from the
shock. When the slave was back on his feet Master turned and left,
dragging the badly shocked slave behind him.
When evening came I was led back into the stable and prepared for the
night same as always. Seemingly no routines had been changed just
because Master had seen fit to castrate me. I still slept standing up,
sealed in rubber and filled with punishment dildos.
The next morning, when I had been fed, washed and outfitted a doctor
came to check on the wound and change the bandage. He gave me a few
shots and let them take me to the enclosure again.
Again I stood as still as possible all day and like the day before
Master came to see me in the afternoon. It pleased me to see that he
liked what had been done to me and I began to accept that what he had
done to me was for the best. Maybe not the best for me, but since I
didn't matter that was of no consequence. If it pleased Master all was
well. That day he had one of the shemales in tow and she looked truly
terrified. Her naked body bore the marks of prolonged torture and the
marks around her neck were unmistakable. This time he didn't settle for
a brutal fuck, but beat her brutally before fucking her even more
violently than he had fucked the slave from the day before and again he
finished of by choking her until she lost consciousness. She was crying
hopelessly, in near shock as he led her off.
My healing process lasted three weeks and the routine was the same every
day. I was treated just like I had been before, except that now I didn't
train and the doctor came to see me regularly. Every day Master came to
see me and delight in my castration and for each passing day the poor
slave accompanying him had to endure more and more brutal treatment. In
the final week one slave wasn't enough and when he took his hands away
from the throat of the slave he had been fucking and choking, the slave
fell limply to the ground and lay there long enough that I began fearing
that he had killed him.
Master didn't kill anyone, however, but after that all his house slave
acquired a look of constant terror.
When my healing period was over and my bandages were finally removed I
saw that not only did I have a smooth crotch, but my once proud and
beautiful cock had shrunk down to the size of a small thumb. And no
matter how much I willed it, no matter how much I thought of Master, I
could even get it to twitch. It had been rendered not only harmless, but
useless. Had it not been for the fact that it seemed to please Master, I
would have been unbearably depressed. Now at least I had that thought to
cheer me up; that I still pleased Master.
My new role in life turned out to be very ironic. I was still kept and
fed like before, but my training was minimal and usually I as only
ridden if one of the stable boys was being rewarded and granted the
right to ride for fun. My form was still perfect of course; my many
years of training not easily undone and I still enjoyed being subjected
to breath play, which now became my primary source of enjoyment apart
from pleasing Master. No my new role was that of gelding at race day. On
race day I was brought along so that the racehorses could get a good
fuck. Sometimes I would get fucked by one of Master's ponies at home,
but usually they were milked just as I had been.
I now lived to provide relief for other ponies without ever being able
to get relief myself. At home the stable boys and even the house slave
came to ride me when they were being rewarded or Master thought I needed
some exercise and usually they would play with my breath either with
rope of using plastic bags. This had become one of Master's favorites
and his liking for it spread throughout the household to all levels.
Over time it had the result of further dumbing me down to the point
where I now have trouble recognizing other ponies. I do however
recognize Tony, if only because he was the first pony after me and
because he has joined me in the gelding pen, where we spend most of our
time waiting as our minds become more and more damaged from the constant
asphyxiation we are subjected to.
Epilogue
Master looked at Mark and Tony standing in the gelding pen. He
had many fond memories of punishing Mark and fucking him senseless. He
had acquired many, many slaves since then and many were more beautiful
or ran more perfectly, sucked or fucked more perfectly, but only very
few were as devoted as he had been.
Master had a whole household full of slaves of all descriptions who had
only four things in common: they all had a chastised member between
their legs, none were ever allowed to cum except the ponies, none had
any teeth and all were completely devoted to him, just as they had been
conditioned. Still, few had reached the level of devotion Mark had shown
from the very start and Master thought it had been a lucky strike that
he had been the first.
But now Mark was becoming too damaged to continue even in his diminished
capacity as gelding. All the breath play had damaged his brain to the
point where he now had trouble moving his limbs properly and had it not
been for the plugs he would be unable to hold his own waste. No, the
time to put him down had come, but then Mark had lasted almost ten years
and that was certainly a good run, far longer than most of Master's
slaves.
Since Mark so obviously enjoyed breath play even in his present reduced
state, Master decided that that was the way he would go. He went into
the pen and led Mark over to the fence. Here he removed his blinkers,
head harness, bit, collar and butt-plug and pushed him up against the
fence. Then he began to fuck Mark in the ass for the first time in
years. He could both hear and feel Mark's pleasure at being fucked and
when he felt his own orgasm approaching, he closed his hands around
Mark's throat and squeezed it tightly, feeling his almost orgasmic
writhing beneath him; powerful jerks at first, then desperate thrashing
and finally just weak spasms before stopping altogether.
THE END
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