IV
I trained her the next day and the three days after that. Her face was on the news a few times. Had the alarm system informed me about intruders, I would have quickly locked her inside the old bunker beneath the main building. But no one came to my farm.
The greatness of the experience didn't fade at all. It even improved, because I could easily see how Copper changed in these few days.
She was unhappy of course, still scared and feeling humiliated and degraded. But at least she slowly started to become used to it. But I was not under the illusion that she would ever come to like her fate. No, that would be immensely naive of me. What I was aiming for was her acceptance. The outrageous needed to become normal, the unbearable needed to turn into her normal life. That was what the training and the drug were meant to achieve.
The sugar wasn't the only aspect in this by far, but it definitely helped. The drug did make her more compliant, like I had hoped it would. I could watch how it made her a little more accessible for commands with each passing day. At the same time it took some of her worries away, like a good antidepressant should. The effect would increase some more over the next weeks and months and I was quite curious about how she would turn out in the end.
For now, she moved with much more routine. And the drool that was constantly dribbling over her chin and had bothered her a lot in the beginning was now something which she didn't seem to register anymore. Her nakedness still had to be scary to her, but when we trained a bit longer the next day and I realized she needed to pee, I decided it was time for another test: I told her to pee right where she stood and she complied, just got into a crouch and emptied her bladder. Of course she had a tortured look on her face while I watched her pissing, but that look was much less intense than I would have expected. And when I gave her the same command some hours later she obeyed with even less reluctance. After that it became routine until she started crouching down by herself when she felt it was okay, and she relieved herself without much thinking anymore.
I used one of the hidden light-sensitive cameras to check in on her at nights. At first, she regularly got up and tried to free her arms, to open the box, to climb over the walls. When she failed to achieve anything, she broken down, sobbed or cried. In the third night she didn't even bother anymore to try.
It was monday, I had trained her for a few hours. I loved to watch her small pale ass dancing as she made her way across the field, pulling the small training cart. I loved how lean she looked, essentially 'armless' in her unforgiving restraints.
When she cried during the training on Monday I made her stop her trot and hugged her I patted her head and back and kissing her salty cheek.
"Shhh. It's okay, who s a good one? Are you a good one? You are, aren't you?"
"Wheee!" She sounded deeply distressed, but at the same time like a girl who indeed does want to be a good one. And why not? Being 'good' meant less pain and less punishments, more stroking and more sugar – she already had understood the basic rules. Who she had been in the past did not count. Her human rights did not count, or basic decency. What counted was what I wanted, and what she could deliver: Submission, obedience and the ability to cope with her new situation.
I gave her another lump when she had calmed down. She blinked the tears away and looked at me in a way that comunnicated it all: Her despair, her submission, her helpless dependance on me.
"You are doing great, Copper. We'll clean you up a bit, what do you say? It's time I take more care of you. You are doing very fine."
She was relieved to hear that. Another whinny and she stomped a foot, the gesture so sweetly helpless that I couldn't do anything else but chuckle. Of course she would have loved to be cleaned; of course she had come to hate her own musky smell by now. She had been trained hard for days and only occasionally had been cleaned with straw. I liked her scent because it constantly reminded me of my power over her, and because it was extra dehumanizing. But I was ready to make some concessions in order to win a little more of her trust.
"I know", I said. "Yes I know, you stink. I noticed." I chuckled and took the leash. I started leading her back to the stables. It was impressive how much more deft she moved by now. "Warm water and soap, soon. I promise." I turned as I opened the stable doors, and I patted her shoulders. Then I let my hand wander off a little further and I stroked the side of her left breast.
I had repeatedly touched her like that during the past days and she was slowly getting used to it. Just like she was getting used to so many other things. But when I touched her breast this time, I did it a little differently, not as casual as I had done it before. The tip of my thumb also stroked her nipple. It erected within seconds and she bit down hard on her bit as she felt how her body reacted. I kept watching her as I slowly drew my hand back.
"You are doing very well. You deserve a treat. Come on, let's clean you."
Inside the stables I prepared several buckets of hot, soapy water. She watched as I placed those in front of her stall. I called her to me and she came, and I could see how her eyes fixated on the soft sponge I had just taken into my hands.
Slowly I began to clean her. It was deeply intimate, utterly degrading for her and, as I noticed, exactly what she had hoped for. Did it matter that she was forced to be here, and that I had taken her from her old life without her consent? Well... yes, sure. Her eyes flickered, her nostrils flared, she stared into nothingness and tried to keep her cool. An abducted girl is not supposed to like what her captor does to her.
But still, if she wanted it or not, I could feel her relax as I rubbed the soft, hot sponge over her skin, washing dirt and sweat away. I could hear a nearly inaudible sigh as I washed her armpits, her face, her breasts and belly. This was the payoff I had been waiting for: A pony needs to be reminded at all times that she is helpless. But from time to time, she deserves something nice. I wanted Copper to enjoy this as much as possible, and remember it later, when I had to punish her again.
It is not that had to act my part: I really enjoyed the intimacy and closeness of cleaning her. It was arousing and special to me. I made sure to remove bits of her harness and armbinder, wash her, lock them again. I washed her mohawk and I had to laugh because she looked even funnier when it was dripping wet. She stared at me and seemed offended first, and then her lips quivered around the bit and, despite all the humiliation, she made a noise that sounded as if she was somehow seeing the absurdity of the situation as well.
It was when I washed her pussy that she became a little nervous. I ran the soft, warm sponge across her lips and then spread them a bit to do a more thorough cleaning. She held her breath. Her nipples got erected quite quickly and she tensed. I slipped just one finger against her labia and sensed that there was a different kind of moisture - one that had nothing to do with soap and warm water. But I did not comment on it and she did nothing to attract my attention. No wonder: She had no idea that I had drugged her. The only thing she knew was that her arousal was even more degrading, a sign of something deeply wrong with her. I can imagine how she prayed and hoped that I would not notice how her body betrayed her.
I suspected that it was not just the drug that caused her arousal. I knew her a little better by now, and I understood why I had been attracted to her in the first place. She reminded me of some other slaves I had met over the years. There is a deep lust for being defeated and destroyed that some people carry deep inside themselves. I had sensed it. in Laura. Her stubbornness, her anger and her frustration had been ways to hide it. Copper was the new version of her that allowed for her to be destroyed the way she had always longed for it.
This night, I secured her in a different way, since she could not always have her arms restrained in the same position. I easily configurated it into the boxtie-version, then I strapped her arms on her back with each hand resting at the other arms' elbow. I replaced the bitgag with a smaller ballgag for the night. I lightly cuffed her ankles to make sure she could change her position, but not get any ideas about escape into her sweet little head. And finally I hooded her so that she was blind and deaf. It was a good way to give her a little more comfort while still making sure she was completely helpless.
I dreamt of fucking her in the hot water I had cleaned her with. It was a very pleasant dream. It also showed me that I was in trouble: In my dream I kissed her and she kissed me back, with the bit in her mouth. It was a tender and lustful kiss, and that worried me. I had taken her as my slave, not as my lover. What the fuck was my subconscious trying to tell me?
The next morning I was just making coffee and contemplating what to do about Copper when the doorbell rang.
I activated my security system and the cameras at the front gate showed me a young woman: She was cute and sporty. Her blonde hair was tied into a straight ponytail and she had sparkling green eyes and bronze-coloured skin. There was a winning smile on her face, and this was the kind of face that can drive any male mad within seconds. That girl was my niece Hannah, who now waved at the camera, knowing I was looking at her right now.
"Let me in, Uncle! Come on, let me into your house you freaky hermit!"
"It's not a good time, Hannah. Get back on your bike and ride home. Next time better call before you visit."
"What? No!", she protested, puttingher small hands against her hips. "Everybody loves surprises. And you love me, I am your favorite niece! If you don't let me in, I'm just going to climb over the fucking fence!"
Her smile was pure sunshine. She ran a hand through her hair and giggled, and I realized she was dead serious. That pesky little bitch.
You need to know this about my niece Hannah: She tends to be surrounded by flocks of friends and followers who
jump over each other to fulfill her wishes, and she has absolutely no respect for any of these people. She is a highly intelligent, cruel and manipulative brat. My stepbrother raised her like a princess, but she has turned out to be the sort of
princess who gladly watches knights kill each other in her name.
Also, she knows too much about me. She has taken an interest in my past, and I know that she has dug out a few of the more outrageous stories over the years. She enjoys reminding me that I was, in her words, "a pretty bad guy". She does not mind that of course. She has no moral reservations. I think she kind of admires me.
I on the other hand checked her notebook when she spent much of last summer on my farm. I discovered that Hannah visits dark chatrooms and
websites, that she talked to men about bdsm, bondage and much darker things. She enjoys discussing her own hypothetical rape, and she loves it even more to discuss the subjugation of other girls. It would be creepy if I would not find it so amusing.
Hannah had a way to to
cause trouble wherever she went. She was manipulative, slightly insane, too proud for her own good and carelessly cruel
to people. I liked her.
So, since I did not want her to climb over the fence and get close to the stables, I sighed and buzzed Hannah in. I welcomed her in the lobby. She threw her rucksack into a corner of the room as if she owned the place.
"Uncle! What's up, how was your week? What are you up to, you evil man?"
"Oh you know, the usual." I smiled. "There ain't no rest for the wicked. But I heard that your soccer team won the last match. well done!"
We high-fived and grinned at each other. But we both also had something calculating in our glances.
She walked past me and towards the kitchen, as if she was right at home. I followed. I was not sure if I was supposed to be annoyed or charmed by her pertness.
"Uncle, you will not believe what happened in school. A girl has disappeared. At first they tought she might come back. Now they are in panic. She just disappeared!"
I filled a glas with juice and handed it to Hannah. "A girl from your school?" I made the most innocent face. "I think I read that, one or two days ago. The one who ran away to hike across the boarder?"
"Laura Kruger would never have done that!", hannah snorted. "I did not even like that bitch, but I know she would not run away like that!"
"Why don't you believe what they say on the news? It all sounded pretty convincing to me."
"Oh I just know she hates hiking." Hannah rolled her eyes. "She hates the countryside. She hates nature as a concept, I guess. I am not kidding. Once after class I met her in the break room an she talked about the city like it was heaven. How she wanted to get back there, how much better everything is there, how much cleaner and more interesting, how much more sexythe boys are. She went on and on about it." Hannah shrugged. "She was definitely not the type of girl who would buy camping equipment and go on a hike into the wilderness."
"And did you tell that to the police too?"
I had asked too quickly. A mistake. Hannah made a face, took a sip of juice and looked at me. There was something in her glance that told me I had raised a suspicion.
"They sent only one deputy to question 50 of us. I told him that I had never spoken to her. I did not even like her, remember? I don't give a shit if they find her."
I was relieved, but even that was bad. Because she sensed my relief, and now she frowned.
"Is she here, Uncle?"
I hesitated. This was insane. Copper had to be my secret if I did not want to go to jail for a very long time. But still, was Hannah eying me up with such a... hunger in her green eyes.
So I nodded.
"Wow. Is she ..." Hannah looked around as if there might be a red-haired girl standing right behind her suddenly. "Is she alive?"
I nodded again.
"I knew it!" Hannah was radiant with excitement. "I saw that little asshole once when she was walking down one of the roads not far from here. I passed her with my bike. She came from your farm, and I always wondered what she was doing here!"
"She hurt my horses. Maybe it was her way of punishing the concept of nature itself", I said with a smile, picking up Hannahs wording. "I decided to punish her. And things just... uh... escalated."
Hannah was not scared. She was not shocked. She blinked twice, and her face was only shining with curiosity.
"They escalated? How far did they escalate? Can I see her?"
I shook my head.
"You can not see her today. You can see her tomorrow. But first, you will do me a favor. You will take a map I give you. Someone used one of Lauras pens to mark different trails that cross the border, as if that person was still unsure about which path to take. You will drop this map somewhere in the bushes behind the soccer field. A after a day or two you will find it and bring it to your principal."
Hannah stared at me, impressed and speechless.
I went on. "And the day after tomorrow you return to me. I will show you how things escalated. But you must understand that it's going to be quite shocking. And you need to know that once you have seen her, we will be in this together. This will be our secret. Something that you can not talk about with anybody else."
She nodded quickly. "Fuck yes, finally! I mean... I understand. You and me, in this together. Yeah. That sounds great, Uncle!"
I was not sure if I had made a big mistake. But there was no way back now. And maybe Hannah could assist me in breaking Copper, in more than just one way.