Nusquam

“Yes, Ma’am,” the words surprisingly subdued for a girl of 127’s size and strength.

“Yes, and you enjoy having your cunny fingered as well. Life at Nusquam. Girl’s like you so much revel in it... run, fed, groomed and bedded. Everything provided, not a care in the world...”

As Miss Penny continues her brusque manipulation, 128 notes that the letter ‘N’ has been similarly branded into the right cheek... poor 127, ceding again to the unrelenting irons of the blacksmith.

“I just may run you myself sometime, 127. I prefer stallions, but you’re strong enough... would no doubt enjoy the controlling hands of a woman... and for well more than 200 meters.”

“Yes, thank you, Ma’am,” the words coming as Miss Penny succinctly withdraws, apparently sensing a pending orgasm.

Miss Penny turns, continuing to the end of the long passageway. In passing each stall the occupant steps forth, similarly chained by a formidable nose ring. The fillies turn, spread and bend, offering salacious views of their sex. 128 is shocked when there is encountered a male... more aptly termed a gelding. He presents his empty sac, the demanded greeting for the genderless.

“The grooms have kept you nicely stretched, 96,” Miss Penny’s hand lowering again, this time palming a mass of floppy pink flesh.

Yes, with the tattooed letter ‘C” following the numerals ‘9’ and ‘6’, 128 knows the tethered creature is devoid of male tidbits. Yet the sac hangs most prominently... and has been pierced, rings dangling below. Also notable is the penis... small... shriveled... to a woman, carnally useless.

“The geldings are belled here when run” Miss Penny anticipating 128’s question in turning up the flesh to better show the rings. “Keeps them mindful of their altered status... humble... and obedient. Isn’t that right 96? Little need for the sjambok on our docile geldings.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Yes, putting the geldings in harness is quick and easy. But their stamina is limited. The hormones... lacking hormones... do make a difference, ha, ha, ha. “

Ending the journey, Miss Penny leads to the last stall on the left.

“And here is my stallion... subjugant 88... formerly known as Balls Martindale.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Miss Penny stands in silence, letting 128 take in the benumbing scene.

A massive naked male stands, nose ringed as with the other steeds, yet with the attached chain secured to a ring high above. Hairless, forehead tattooed with the numerals 88, his neck, thighs and ankles are banded in steel. With arms apparently tethered behind his back, 128 presumes his wrists and biceps are similarly banded.

Standing nearby is 54, naked as always, bucket of sudsy water in hand. 128 soon finds her wandering eyes glued. 88, aka Balls Martindale, indeed has balls. Beneath a penis encased in a tube of matching steel, two massive globes strain the thin pink flesh of the scrotal sac. Both gonads are ringed, making the organs appear to be even more prominent. The sight is both comical and shocking.

“Good afternoon, 88, 54 taking care of you?” Miss Penny finally greets.

“Beesh,” the reply vehement and barely discernible.

Miss Penny laughs evilly.

“I assume that’s bitch. And you’re right, I am indeed a bitch,” Miss Penny stepping to the right wall.

128 notes there hangs equine gear... bit

, bridle, straps, harnesses. But there is also a kitchen implement... a simple spatula.

“Such nastiness. Can’t let a day go by without your special treatment now... can we.?”

Miss Penny grasps the spatula and approaches.

“Naw,” the enunciation of the word ‘no’strained, 128 concludes the steed has no teeth.

54 puts down the bucket and without command, bends. For the first time 128 notes that in addition to the bands of steel, 88 has been pierced, heavily gauged rings thrust through at the Achilles tendon. Though 54 is diminutive compared to the size of 88, when she hooks her finger through the left ring, lifts and pulls to turn, 88 emits a plaintive cry, pivoting and allowing his leg to rise and his thighs to instantly part.

“The slightest tension on the Achilles tendon brings cramping, pain... and quick compliance. Isn’t it curious how a 110 pound girl can control him?” Miss Penny stepping forth, spatula in hand.

54’s casual tug aligns 88’s backside. 128 notes that the right buttock is branded with the obligatory letter ‘N’. In addition, the left cheek is tattooed with his appellation... ‘balls’... in thick black ink.

Miss Penny’s left hand grasps the tethered wrists, secured together as suspected. She lifts, forcing the steed to bend at the waist, tensioning the nose chain.