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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o  	I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to  o
o  be typed therefore I don’t type things myself."  I think it’s  o
o  a lot more fun to browse around and find  'little'  surprises  o
o  that you might not have even thought of looking for.           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Hippos - Part 4 (MF, S&M, bond)
by Anonymous (c) 1994

*

Cimarron

	I was becoming more and more, a possession. Something to be
bought and sold. Used and even abused. The tattoos of the Centaur
and the registration number were only part of the process.

	The poly strapping that held my legs were cut off, allowing
me to walk. One of the stablehands guided me through a door, to the
outside of the building.

	From there I was lead towards a large rectangular structure.
Connected to it were several smaller buildings. I was taken to one
of these.

	As I walked, I could see other buildings nearby. Each seemed
to have its own function. A short distance away, there were areas
that looked like a racetrack, and an outdoor show ring.

	I soon arrived at what I knew was a stable. There were a dozen
stalls inside. Unlike the one at the farm, the stalls had four foot
high walls which allowed the occupants to see around them. There
were however, iron bars that went from the top of the walls to the
ceiling. The wood was painted a bright white, and above the
doorways were the Centaur emblems that I now wore. Inside each
stall were the usual food and water troughs. There was also, a
stainless steel shaft, identical to the one at the training farm.
I shuddered, remembering how it felt having that thing inside me
for those many hours.

	I was placed inside the stall nearest to the main door of the
stable. The door was slid closed and latched. One by one, the other
captives were taken to their new homes. One or two would hesitate
to go inside their stalls. The former redhead actually had to be
seized by two of the stablehands, and literally carried in.

	I could hear people gathering just outside the door to the
stable. I raised myself up on my toes and tried to peek out the
window. All I could see were the man and woman. They seemed to be
having some sort of meeting. I listened to what they were saying.

	"Before you meet your charges", said the woman "A couple of
things to remember. You are responsible for the care and health of
these animals. Any injury or sickness must be reported to the
doctor immediately! The second thing is that you cannot be slipshod
in your training. You will be evaluated during each phase. Those
who fail will not be back the next year. John, do you want to say
anything?"

	The man then spoke, "Thanks Paula. The occupants of this
stable are to be considered horses. Not horse slaves, not human
ponys, but horses..period! They have been stripped of their
clothing and body hair; now they are to be stripped of their
identity and humanity. If their future owners want to give them
back, that is for them to decide. I'm stressing this point as there
is maybe some temptation to take advantage of these creatures.
Well, put that out of your heads right this second! I caught one
groom last year sucking the cock of his horse. Since that was a
violation, the groom was punished by having to spend two months in
harness. These are expensive animals, and I will not tolerate any
action that is going to make training more difficult. Now, unless
there are any questions, let's get to work."

	The grooms now entered the stable. There were both girls and
boys perhaps no older than eighteen or nineteen. They were dressed
in the same outfits that John and Paula wore, except they had an
embroidered patch with the Centaur symbol on their shirt pockets.

	The door to my stall was slid open and a girl came in. She had
short brown hair and soft brown eyes. She was maybe five and a half
foot in height, and just ever so slightly, overweight. Not fat, but
more, shall I say..husky, than the others.

	She smiled and pulled out a carrot from a small bag she was
carrying. "My name's Martha." she said softly. She held the carrot
to my mouth and stroked the side of my face. I was hungry so I
began to nibble at the offering. Still holding the carrot, she lead
me over to the steel shaft. After lubricating the tip, she
positioned me over the device and pulled up on the handle,
inserting it inside me.

	Once the control knob was tightened, Martha produced a small
knife and carefully cut away the poly straps that were binding my
upper body and arms. I had no time to stretch as she began securing
me in my new tack. It was made of a thicker leather, but was hand
tooled with a rather handsome design. It also did not require a lot
of adjustment. The measurements that were made beforehand were used
to make sure that there was a good fit. I was bitted and bridled.
Then Martha attached the reins and lead me outside the stall.

	 We proceeded through the stable towards a door at the other
end. On the other side was a large indoor show ring. There was a
small grandstand near the center and on each side of the building
there was a series of open-ended stalls. Martha took me to one of
these stalls.

	A long leather lead was tethered to each wall on either side
of me. These leads were then secured to my bridle. I noticed that
there was a speaker hanging from the ceiling just above me. A box
with a dial was on one wall. Martha went over to the box, flipped
a switch then turned the dial.

	"BEEP............BEEP............BEEP"  came from the speaker.
I was puzzled until I felt a riding crop strike my the back of my
right calf. Instantly I raised my leg. The sound continued
"BEEP............BEEP............BEEP". The crop then struck my
left calf."Get them up!" Martha commanded. I put my right leg down
and raised my left one.

	With each "BEEP" the crop struck either my right or my left
calf. The crop would strike only if I did not raise the appropriate
leg. I knew then that I was to keep time to the beeping. I also
knew that I had to raise my leg to a minimum height. If I went too
low, Martha would hit me with the crop.

	I was getting into the rhythm quite well, when she walked over
to the dial and turned it to another position. 

	"BEEP........BEEP........BEEP" the sound was slightly faster.

	I had to pump my legs a little faster to keep up. When I
failed to keep time, I would feel the crop.

	She turned it up another notch "BEEP......BEEP......BEEP" then
another "BEEP....BEEP....BEEP"; and then still another
"BEEP..BEEP..BEEP".

	Finally, the sounds were going so fast I couldn't possibly
keep it up for very long; "BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP".

	Martha then turned off the sound. I was gasping for breath and
sweating like crazy. It wasn't the work, I had gone for long
distances pulling a lot of weight. It was the ever increasing pace
and the fact that I had to keep my knees so high!

	She brought me a bottle with some water. I opened my mouth and
she held the spout and squeezed the bottle. I drank as much as she
let me. She then released me from the leads and took me for a walk
around the building.

	The others were there, getting the same treatment I just had.
Some were ready to drop at the mid-point on the dial. Some were
going strong even at the fastest levels.

	Paula and John would go to each station and make a notation
on a clipboard. Paula had appeared at my station but I was too busy
to pay attention what she was doing. She looked at me and gave me
a smile that made me nervous. I wasn't sure exactly why, but I just
felt as if I shouldn't trust her.

	After I was cooled down, Martha took me back to the stable.
On the way I could see that names had been stenciled on the stall
doors. There were names like "Princess T", "Coffeecup", and
"Zephyr".	I looked at the name that was on my stall. In freshly
painted letters was the name that I would be called from now on:

"CIMARRON"

END PART IV