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About Deviant Member John Mahler26/Male/Israel Group :iconlitbound: LitBound
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(Contains: sexual themes)
Michael (pronounced Mee-Ha-el) walks down the street with a little bounce in her step.

About 5 feet tall, with pale skin and short black curls framing a round open face shine in the bright sunlight. well built with firm breasts, a narrow waist and wide hips. Wearing her favorite blue dress, that clings to her every curve and shows her breasts very well, she fairly skips down with street with a smile, on the way to see her boyfriend, the hem of her skirt flapping around her bare knees.

As she walks by an open doorway, someone darts out and grabs her from behind, slapping a hand across Michael’s mouth. “Mhmph!” she cries out, startled, her eyes wide with alarm, raising her hands to try to pull away her attacker’s hand. A taser appears in her attacker’s other hand, then everything goes dark.

#

Michael slowly became aware of a terrible ache in her arms, of a pounding pain in her hands. Whimpering softly, she slowly opens her eyes.

She hangs by her hands from something above her; raising her head, Michael sees she is in a rather plain apartment; red-and-brown wallpaper, cheap furniture, it could have been anywhere in the city. Or, for that matter, she thinks with a thrill of fear, anywhere outside of it.

Sh gets her feet under her, moaning pitiably as the weight comes off of her hands. She raises her eyes, looking above her head to see her hands bound, the rope rising up to run through a hook in the ceiling and from there down to a stanchion on the wall.

Standing beside the stanchion is Rachel.

“Rachel?!” Michael cries, surprise and shock shining in her eyes. they’d gone to school together, but hadn’t seen each other since - what-

Rachel stands a little shorter than Michael, and is thinner, and lighter. But her arms are tight with muscle, and herbrown eyes shine with a sort of tough determination. She wears black leather pants tucked into high-heeled boots of he same, and a short-sleeved leather shirt open down the front to bare most of her cleavage, her long brown hair tumbles down her back and her eyebrows are arched amusedly  “Hello, Mikayl,” Rachel says, walking toward her suspended prisoner. “Have a good night?”

“Rachel- what- please let me down!”Michael pleads.

“Hmm,” Rachel says, putting her hand to her chin in a pantomime of thought. “Let me think. . . no.”

“Why?” Michael cries out.

“Because I’m going to torture you, then keep you for my slave,” Rachel says with a grin.

Michael stares at her old mate, dumbfounded. “Why?” she gasps. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” Michael wails.

Rachel stops and glances at her. “You didn’t do anything, Mikayl: you are blameless; there is nothing you could have done or not done to avoid this; you’re here because I picked you.” She reaches out with her left hand and grabs a handful of Michael’s dress at the back. “Hold still,” she orders as Michael tries to turn around to see what Rachel is doing.

“What are you-” Michael begins, then Rachel jerks hard on the soft blue cloth, tearing it away, baring all of her back. “Why are you doing this?!” Michael cries, tears pouriong from her eyes.

“You should learn very quickly,” Rachel says, picking up a short whip in her right hand. “That you should never ask that question of your mistress, slave.” Michael weeps as Rachel lifts her whip high, then brings it down on Michael’s back.

SNAP!

“Aaah!’

SNAP!

“No! Please!” Michael squeals, squirming in her bonds, trying to twist away from Rachel and her

SNAP!

“No!”

SNAP!

“Go ahead and scream, slave!” Rachel says with al augh as Michael weeps. “There’s nobody to hear you, and even if they did - I own the building!”

SNAP! her whip goes again

Her blue eyes clouded with tears, Michael collapses, her weight going once again on the rope tied around her wrists, making her cry out in pain as if Rachel had whipped her again.

Rachel walks about in front of Michael and slips the point of her whip beneath her chin. Weeping, Michael is forced to meet Rachel’s eye as she raises the whip, pushing her chin up. “That wasn’t punishment,” Rachel says, as if that makes everything better. “You didn’t do anything wrong; you’ve been a good girl. And now it’s time to be a better one.” She lets Michael’s face drop, then turns away and walks to the rope tiethat holds her captive up. Rachel unties the rope, then takes hold of it to keep Michael from falling. She slowly lowers Michael to the floor, then drops the end of the rope and struts over to Micahel, who lies on the floor, weeping, disconsolate.

Rachel reaches down and grabs Michael by the arm, then pulls her to her knees. grabbing the rope, she pulls Michael’s hands behind her back and ties them together. “You be a good girl; stay there, now!’

Michael stares up at her captor, her cheeks streaked with tears. “What are you gonna do?” she whimpers.

“Me? Nothing,” Rachel says, standing over Michael. She reaches down and grabs the front of Michael’s dress and pulls it down, baring her pale pert breasts to the bright light. “Now, why did you hide those?’ she asked admonishingly. “They’re veyr nice; they should be out for everyone to see!”

Michael cried helplessly as Rachel reached down again and toyed with her breasts, squeezing and kneading her soft flesh between the mad catpor’s fingers. Michael’s cries turn to wails as Rachel pinches her nipples, grinning at her slave’s cries.

Rachel lets go of Michael’s breasts and straightens up again. “Like I said,” she says, sliding her hands down to her belt. “I’m not gonna do anything.” She pulls open her pants, baring her shaven pussy to sight. Still smiling, she reaches down with her right hand and grabs a handful up Michael’s hair. “Come here, girl,” she says. “Be a very good girl!’

Michael cries helplessly as her new mistress forces her lips against her pussy lips.
M1: The New Little Slave
A rough little piece I wrote in 36 minutes inspired by a pulp cover.

Michael will certainly be back for more stories, though when and for how long I can't say.
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I am accustomed to denigrating dressage; only some horses are physically able to do it, yet people persist in making horses do it that are not able to, which is harmful to the horse. The same is true of human ponies; some individuals simply should not do it, and making them do it will only cause harm.
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Putting a pony in ballet boots is cruel and barbarous, and should not be done: it will cause discomfort, and even physical damage to the pony’s feet and legs. Heel-less shoes, as are used in the early training in the story, should be used in one of two ways, depending on whether the pony in question is a full-time or part-time pony. A full-time pony should wear heel-less shoes only for training; the pony should be trained to walk barefoot, building up sufficient callouses to be able to walk bare-hoofed. Part-time ponies should wear heel-less shoes, rather than attempt to build up such callouses: not only could the changes to their feet prove problematic in their normal lives, but the (probably) unsuccessful attempt to build up such callouses could cause them harm, and actually damage their ability to function as a pony. Bare-hoofed or shoed, a pony should walk on their toes; it gives them a more authentic equine gait, and the differing physical action of walking will help the person to mentally ‘get into’ their role of a pony.

deviantID

pornwriter
John Mahler
Israel
I am a 'serious' writer, trying to get my serious work published. I also like to write pornography, particularly BDSM.

Well, some people watch my other account jochannon.deviantart.com/ for the porn, while others watch me for my 'serious' literature, so I decided to make this new account for my porn.

I do commissions, trades, and requests(if I think they're interesting).

Current Residence: Israel
Favourite genre of music: Practically Anything
MP3 player of choice: iPod mini
Shell of choice: Conch
Skin of choice: Freckled
Interests
Spies is reposted to my new account J-B-Hickock I'm doing Foxy Lady next.

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