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Storycodes: F+/f; dolls; lycra; boots; captive; enslaved; naked; bond; leather; harness; cuffs; bitgag; ponygirl; cart; cons/nc; X
Part 3: They Came in the Night
They came for me in the night. I had been asleep on my straw covered palette when they came, but even had I been awake and ready for the the result would have been exactly the same.
I was awoken by the warm caress of a soft leather collar about my throat, and as my mind darted upwards from the darkness of sleep I could feel other straps uncoiling about my naked body.
I tried to haul myself upright, but there were all around me, these terrible dolly figures that had made me their prisoner, their slave, their plaything. Or, in their terrible terminology, their Funling.
I knew the leader in front of me. Sheathed as ever in skintight lycra from ankle to neck, with gleaming spindly heeled boots she had a smile on her unnaturally perfect face as her minions darted about my sleepy body carefully placing straps about my limbs. I could hear the whispering of straps running through buckles as they pulled the straps tight about me.
I let out a plaintive wail as they dashed about in my vision in their weird, unnatural way and I could feel cuffs swiftly encircling my wrists and straps being pulled tight about my helpless flesh. A trap was pulled tight about my upper arms, dragging back my shoulders and forcing me to thrust my breasts up and out. Tightly jodphured buttocks and gleaming riding boots flashed past and I felt the leather straps tighten about my ribs as a makeshift bra of straps lifted my generous breasts even further into prominence, and as the waft of real leather reached my nostrils I felt my nipples haul themselves into prominence as only the scent of real leather can inspire.
Other straps circled the tops of my muscular thighs and pulled tight as others tightened about my ribcage. I could feel a belt about my waist and a strap of heavy leather running down the length of my spine in a terrible yet somehow frighteningly arousing caress until it was buckled to that belt about my waist.
The leather was wickedly soft and warm, and as my bare flesh warmed it the scent grew stronger and stronger until I was nearly panting with desire.
Hauled up onto my knees I felt tiny hands grip both my wrists and bend them behind me as their leader watched me closely. I heard and felt a cold snapping sound as clips were closed, and as I pulled I found my wrists were fastened to that terrible strap and belt harness about me and my hands were no longer mine to do with as I pleased.
Their leader danced out of my vision and I felt her hands taking a firm grip on my collar before swinging herself up on to my shoulders as if gravity meant nothing to her, and moments later she was settled across my shoulders, one unnaturally perfect leg handing down either side of my neck.
She reached out to one of her fellows and took from her a bundle of leather straps and steel fittings. She rested the bundle on top of my head and gave my neck a firm yet almost loving squeeze with her thighs As I gave a moan of unrequited passion at the proximity of her tight legs and the small of the leather harness that had made my body its prisoner I felt things rolling down about my face. Something pressed itself against my lips, something long, sooth and rounded.
I felt my lips part at its touch, and before I realised what was happening the thick rubber bit had slipped between my teeth and the straps had pulled it tight. I wailed again as I felt the other straps of the bridle being pulled tight about my face and I could hear their leader laughing joyously at the ease with which I had been made their poor little pony.
She sprang off my shoulders and willing little equestriennes darted forward to clip reins to the big steel rings pressing against my cheeks either end of my bit and pull. Moments later I was up and out being dragged along by their doll-like figures whimpering gently, tormented by the scene I must offer to anyone who might see me, and incredibly turned on by the sheer perverted kinkiness of the submissive scene and the smell of that raw leather harness that had me its prisoner.
They led me outside in to what passed for the sunlight in this strange world of theirs. It beat down on my naked shoulders and warmed me instantly. I paused, pulling back my shoulders and thrusting out my breasts to allow that sunshine to caress them and warm my erect nipples. Part of me felt it was wonderful on this strange world of theirs to be able to stand naked and unashamed in the sunshine while wrapped in the bondage of a tight leather harness and bridle.
Sharp tugs at my bridle told me it was time to stop wallowing in the sunshine and follow my captors out amongst the buildings of their homestead until we turned a corner and I saw my fate.
Part of me had been expecting to see a mounting block and saddle, but what stood before me was far more terrifying. Terrifying and deeply exciting.
Before us stood not a mounting block and saddle but a cart. A lightweight metal cart with steel spoked wheels, a tiny seat perfectly sized for my captors and, out front, a pair of shafts exactly the right height and width for me to stand between them.
Leather straps adorned those shafts, a pair of long reins were tied by the seat, and upright in a holster by the seat was a long, thin coaching whip.
I had hardly been standing still for a moment taking in the scene and my inevitable fate when then reins to my bridle were jerked forwards by my two captors and I was being led towards the contraption.
It took them only moments to have to between the shafts, and I was resigned to my fate as I felt tiny hands deftly fastening the straps to my already tight harness and I felt the weight of the little cart slowly start to tug at my hips.
Their leader was standing off to one side watching the events, nodding occasionally as she particularly approved at a buckle being pulled exactly tight enough, and smiling occasionally as I winced as a strap about me pulled just too tight for my comfort.
Then all was still. A handful of my half scale enslavers stood in a little line barely coming up to me waist, every one immaculate in their tiny riding outfits complete right down to their hard hats, like a line of overscale dolls in a shop window. And amongst them stood their gloriously beautiful leader in her skintight lycra catsuit. And she was smiling.
Moving almost faster than my eye could follow she darted past me and I felt the cart pitch as she sprang in to the seat. I felt the straps about me tighten as they took the strain on the reins and I could feel the cart shifting as she settled herself in the seat.
I heard the whistle of the whip moving through the air before it’s very tip bit my poor, unprotected buttock and I lurched forwards into a clumsy trot. As I found my rhythm I could hear the jodhpur-clad dolls cheering and their leader was making encouraging sounds from where she was sitting in her seat. Then the whip cracked again and I picked up speed as quickly as I could, my bare feet flying over the ground as fast I could make them, the hot sun beating down on my shoulders and the sweat quickly starting to roll over my bare body.
There were more cheers as I felt the cart shift over the ground, occasionally bouncing from undulation to undulation, only my speed keeping it stable as we sped along.
I felt a tug at my bit as she pulled at my reins, and almost unconsciously I moved in the direction of the tug like some well trained beast. Bearing gently to the left, then turning sharper as I felt the pulling on my bit become harder, The whip cracked again and moments later I was running out across the field as fast as my legs could carry me, my long red hair flying out behind me like some wild chestnut mare.
“Run little funling, run” she cried out from her seat on the cart “Run well enough and we may have a little surprise for you later”
I was gasping for breath now, breathing hard as my breasts rose and fell within the tight confines of their leather harness, the straps creaking gently as they flexed about me. And as they flexed they caressed and chafed my tender flesh in a horrifically arousing manner, and soon I was panting with more than just exhaustion. The smell of the leather and that insistent caress had me foaming at the mouth with torrents of sheer lust.
My mouth worked helplessly about the bit as I ran. My shoulders wailed in torment as the straps kept them tightly in place behind my back, and still the evil bitch in the seat drove me on with stinging cracks of the whip to alternating buttocks. My body was bathed in sweat, and I knew that meant a hosing down when I got back to my cell later, and if I was really lucky a brisk and not entirely unenjoyable rubbing down from a number of her Dolly subjects that would leave me weak at the knees and utterly frustrated in my pen for the night.
The boundary was approaching quickly, and she hauled hard on the right rein to bring me swiftly round and charging back towards the stable block.
She made faint sounds, and it took a few moments before I realised I was being called to slow to a canter, and I was allowed a more measured tread over the grassy ground.
I could hear cheers in the distance as I started my approach to the stables, and from away to our left I could see another cart cantering towards the stable yard entrance. It too was being pulled by what I took to be another funling, her pale skin also made captive by a tight leather harness and an unforgiving bridle with it’s controlling reins. Her breasts also heaved within a tight prison of confining leather straps that were not doubt also driving her in to an insanity of lust, and for a moment I hoped a desperate hope that we might be left together tonight and that we might be allowed to pleasure each other. I had never considered girl on girl love before, but right now I was so awash with unbidden lust that I would have considered any companion.
Her hair was red like mine, and when I saw her first it too flew out behind her and I realised how magnificent I must have looked charging across the paddock, I felt myself blush with a terrible pride and unwittingly I felt nipples erect again at the thought of the sight I must be presenting, all red hair, pale skin and tight leather straps.
As both carts slowed from their canter to a brisk trot our hair fell about our respective faces briefly hiding each other from our view as the sweat plastered hair stuck to our faces
I came to an unsteady halt, my chest heaving and the sweat rolling off my body. I felt the leader of these doll people spring from the cart. I could hear her walking towards me with a slow and measured tread, every step punctuated by the sharp impact of one of her heels on the hard stone floor.
I tried to shy away from her approach, shaking my head in a desperate attempt to get the sweat-soaked hair out of my face so I could see her coming and somehow prepare myself for whatever torment or indignity was to come next.
I flinched as I felt her touch on my face, and I felt myself shaking in fear as her fingers delicately lifted the strands of hair out of my eyes and I looked down at her tiny 3 foot frame to see her smiling at me.
“I did promise you a treat” she said softly and indicated over her shoulder with an inclination of her head.
I lifted my head and looked over her head towards the other little cart with it’s funling beast of burden standing some feet away from me. One of her fellow dolls was lifting the sweat soaked red hair from the face of the other woman and she too was lifting her head to look towards me.
Despite the vivid red hair her eyes were a delightful hazel brown where mine were a vibrant blue, and I let out a cry as I found myself looking in to the face of my dear twin sister.
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story continues in In the Land of the Dolls 4: Out in the Garden