EXTRACT FOR
Sadoville 2
(Author Unknown)

'You are Danielle Bardot?' the little wiry, balding man with gnomish features demanded, stepping out in front of her and holding up an official silver Inquisitor's badge as he did so.

    Danielle had seen him waiting for her as she approached along this nondescript side street in Sadoville's Eastern quarter.  He was wearing a flat cap, a hacking jacket, riding britches and boots so that he stood out from the more soberly dressed passers-by and it had taken an effort of will for her to look innocently past him as if she was simply going about her normal morning business and her heart was not thudding in anticipation.  Now she hesitated for only a fraction of a second before saying, 'Yes, I am Danielle Bardot? what you want?'

    'I believe your number has just been drawn in the defilement lottery, Ms Bardot, and I require you to show me your identity tag.'

    Danielle held up the blue metal disk which hung from a ribbon about her neck and showed him the number stamped on its reverse face.

    The little man examined it carefully and compared the number with one he had written down on a notepad.  'They match,' he declared. Formally he put his hand on her shoulder, having to reach up slightly to do so. 'I hereby claim you as my capture according to lottery law.'

    Danielle shuddered with unfeigned dismay.  'Are you sure? maybe you've made a mistake?'

    The little man took her by the arm and led her along a few paces until they reached a small kiosk on the corner next to a public phone booth which sold newspapers, magazines and confectionary.  There was a board propped up on the pavement beside it covered by freshly pasted strips of blue tickertape paper printed with strings of numbers.

    'There is your number,' the man pointed to a strip in the middle of the display.  Now do you accept my claim on you?'

    Danielle hung her head. 'Yes? alright? that's my number?'

    'Yes what?'

    'Yes?Sir?'

    'That's better.  Will you give any trouble?'

    'No, Sir?'  Then she added plaintively, 'but please don't be too cruel to me?'

    She saw his eyes fill with a sense of power at her words.  'I'll do I want with you, Danielle, but the better you behave the easier it will be, got that?'

    'Yes, Sir.'

    'Then I'll just register you?'

    He led across to the phone booth and they both squeezed inside.  He dialled a number. 'Lottery Registration?  I want to register a capture. My name is Jules Rocard and I have just challenged Ms Danielle Bardot, identity number?' He gave her ID number and then his own inquisitor licence number '? and I wish to buy twelve bonus hours with her.  Put it in my account?thank you?'

    He rang off but held on to the receiver.  'Is there anyone you wish to inform that you won't be home for the rest the day, Danielle?'

    'No?' Danielle shook her head.

    Rocard grinned and hung the receiver up.  'Then let's get started?'

    He led her around the corner into another quieter street where a car with a silver horsebox trailer connected to its tow bar was parked.  They passed the large rear split door of the horsebox, which formed into a ramp when it was opened, and climbed onto the smaller door set in one side of the trailer's bow front, which Rocard pulled shut again behind them.  

    Danielle looked about her.  The interior, which was high enough for her to stand upright in, was illuminated by tinted plastic panels set in its roof and slotted grille-covered vents set high in its walls.  The floor was covered with dense black rubber matting and various items of harness and equipment were stowed neatly about its side panels, held in place by hooks and straps.  But there was no sign of a horse, which did not surprise Danielle in the least.  However there were many eye bolts set in its sides, floor and roof from which hung a variety of straps, hooks and heavy coil springs.  The sight of them and the smell of oiled metal and polished leather set Danielle's stomach clenching in anticipation, even as she felt her nipples pricking up.

    Rocard asked, 'What do you know about ponygirls?'

    Danielle allowed herself a look of alarm and shook her head. 'Not much, Sir.'

    'Well you're going to know a lot more by the end of the day.  You can start by taking your clothes off?'

    Biting her lip Danielle obeyed, slipping off her plain top coat and slightly old-fashioned print dress and modest underwear.  In a minute she was totally naked and very aware of the little man's closeness in this confined space.  She squirmed in embarrassment and her hands slid over her groin and breasts but Rocard said sharply, 'No, don't cover yourself up!  Spread your legs and clasp your hands behind your neck.  Let me have a good look at you!'

    For a small man he had a commanding manner, as if used to giving women orders.  Danielle obeyed and Rocard walked around her, inspecting her minutely.  He pried open her mouth and inspected her teeth, then ran his hands across her shoulders.  He pinched and lifted her nipples and then prodded her stomach.  He squeezed her pale buttocks with a surprising strength in his grasp and then ran his fingers through her naked pussy slot, making her shudder.  Then he squatted down and tested her sturdy provincial thighs and calves.  As last he stood up apparently well satisfied, judging by the expression of pleasure spread over his homely face. 'You've got good shoulders and strong legs and buttocks, Danielle.  Just what I was looking for?'

    Yes, according to Marius that was apparently one reason why he had chosen her, Danielle thought.  But of course she was not supposed to know that.  As far as Rocard was concerned she was just an innocent woman plucked off the street by the blind chance of the lottery draw, like hundreds of other women would be that day?

    'Now I've got to get you harnessed up?' Rocard said.

    He buckled a broad strap about her waist, pulling it tight so that it emphasised the flare of her haunches.  Heavy short chains and snap rings hung from its sides while two sets of lighter straps hung from its upper and lower rims, which were also fitted with buckle ends.  The upper pair he crossed over her chest between her breasts and then over her shoulders and down her back, crossing once again, to hook onto the rear of her belt.  The second shorter lower set went down between her legs, following the folds between her thighs and pubic mound and then as they emerged from behind her up through the creases of her buttocks to secure to the back of the belt.  He fitted a pair of broad padded straps about her wrists and then clipped these to the side rings of the belt so that her hands were pulled in tight to her waist while her elbows jutted out backwards.  Then he buckled a matching broad deep collar about her neck which made her lift her chin up.

    'That's right, you keep your head high, Danielle,' he said. 'You've got a lovely face so don't be ashamed of showing it?'

    She was not going to be permitted to hide her shame today.

    Then Rocard proceeded to enclose her face with a bridle, buckling its fine straps over her head from crown to neck and side to side. These held a large pair of cheek rings in place from which straps ran over the bridge of her nose and under her chin.  Between them ran a large rubber bit which he pushed into her mouth, stretching her lips back and baring her teeth as she had to bite down onto it.

    One at a time he had her lift her feet so that he could fit them with black leather knee boots with sturdy block heels and soles which flared under the balls of her feet into the shape of hard rubber horseshoes.  D-rings were stitched to the inside and outside of the boot ankles.  The boots increased her height by a good ten centimetres so that she felt herself towering over Rocard, and yet because of their sturdy heel and flared soles she still felt quite surefooted.

    Rocard positioned Danielle in the middle of the compartment facing forward and then drew sprung straps across it from its sides and ceiling, clipping them to the D-rings stitched to the sides of her collar, the straps of her harness where they passed across her shoulders and the big side rings of her belt.  He pulled her legs apart and stretched straps across from the sides of the compartment almost at floor level to clip onto the outer ankle rings of her boots.   He then stretched a single shorter strap with hooks on both ends between her spread feet and hooked it to her inner ankle rings, thereby counteracting the tension of the other straps pulling them outwards.  

    The little man stood back to admire his handiwork.  Now Danielle was braced securely upright within the frame of the horsebox.  He stepped through the web of straps so he could admire her from every angle.  He tweaked her nipples standing up stiffly and ran a stubby finger through cleft of her sex, which was growing hot and wet.  As he examined her she saw the front of his riding britches bulging from within.  

    Even as she stared at it he pulled open his flies and freed a straining erection that looked out of proportion to his size, which he stroked as he said, 'A harness suits you, Danielle.  I think you're going to do me proud today.  But there's one thing we've got to get clear right now?' From a clip on the wall he took down a riding crop and without warning slashed it square across her breasts, flattening her hard nipples beneath it as the crop buried itself in their soft parent mounds.

    Danielle's scream of pain was partially soaked up by her rubber bit but the shock of the blow caused her to jerk wildly so that she bounced and swayed within her sprung web of straps.  

    With his cock bobbing before him, Rocard stepped around behind Danielle and swiped the crop across her buttocks which clenched tight as she jerked away from the searing pain in the other direction.

    Then he moved back round to stand in front of her again and stroked the shaft of the crop up between her splayed thighs and through the wet gash of her sex.  Her eyes bulged in horror and she whimpered and tried to shake her head, pleading with him not to strike her there.

    'Today you will do what I tell you without hesitation and strain every sinew to please me until I say otherwise or until you drop, do you understand?'

    Desperately Danielle nodded.

    He continued to stroke her sex with his riding crop, making he tremble. 'Now, are you ready to show me how hard you will try to please me, or do I need to beat your pretty pussy?'

    Danielle shook her head and pushed her hips forward, grinding her sex lips about the crop as if kissing it and whimpering about her gag as she pleaded with him to accept this token of her humble submission.

    Rocard stood between her splayed legs, his head hardly reaching to the top of her shoulders so that his face was pressed against her burning breasts which he kissed, nipping her straining nipples between his teeth.  She felt his cock sliding up into her and squeezed on it desperately.  She strained to set herself rocking back and forward against the resistance of the sprung straps, impaling herself on him again and again while he reached round her harness body and clasped her hot buttocks and squeezed and clenched them and jerked her against him.

    It only took a minute for him to spout inside her, filling her with a hot fountain of sperm while she clenched hard on him.  The hot liquid well of primal lust in her loins burst and she rewarded his outpouring with a sudden fierce exudation of her own.

    While Danielle was still hanging limp from her bonds, dazed by intensity of her own orgasm, he pulled his cock out of her and wiped it on her thigh before tucking it away.  Then he stroked her bridled cheek.

    'You've got plenty of passion in you.  That's good.  I think you're going to run well for me today?'

    Then he left through the front door of the horsebox.  A moment later she heard the engine of his car start-up and then the box jerked and rattled as it was hauled off after it.  As it made its way along the streets of Sadoville to a destination unknown, Danielle swayed naked within her web of straps while Rocard's sperm began to drip from her aching pussy to the rubber floor.  And yet in a way this was all her doing.  Quite deliberately she had put herself at the mercy of a strange man and was now helplessly compelled to play out whatever fantasy he had in mind for her?