Gromet's PlazaPonyGirl/PetGirl Stories


by Darqside

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© Copyright 2015 - Darqside - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; captive; bond; bed; bond; straps; drug; detox; latex; boots; mask; corset; collar; petgirl; cons/nc; X


Like so many other people and things in my life, I abused it. It started when I was just out of high school and wanted to try everything to get along with everybody. I was a loser. So much of a loser I didn’t think much for myself and always what others thought of me.

I remember partying with my friends for who knew how long and jumping from party to party, almost like a groupie. I always hung out with the cute guys until they got sick of me and walked away, which I just assumed meant they were off taking a hit themselves.

It was the kind of world I lived in until I turned 21.

I remember the last needle that went into my system, almost as if it were the sound of a gunshot.


And then the world I lived in turned into this world… whatever world it seemed to be?

“Diane Fortner, I guess that’s the name on your ID card… right?” A man’s voice whispered gently into my ear.

I couldn’t see him. I could only hear him since everything was bright and blurry. His voice was soft, gentle, and even kinda soothing considering the splitting headache I was having. I was lying face up in some kind of medical bed or something… everything was fuzzy so I couldn’t make out much.

“This is my house, Diane. And for the time being it will be your house as well. But understand that I don’t condone drugs, Diane. They aren’t tolerated. So for as long as you live in this house, you must live under my rules and what I tell you to do. Do you understand what that means, Diane?”

“Yeah, yeah, I smoke outside…” I muttered incoherently to nobody in particular.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to be good enough, Diane.”

In that moment I felt a hand gently touch my breasts, almost as though they didn’t even belong to me. I tried to react but my reflexes were nonexistent and my hands flopped useless on either side of the bed.

“Why… are you… why can’t I move so good?” I groaned.

“This is your fault, Diane. You overdosed on drugs and therefore made your body virtually useless to yourself as well as others.”

“Why are you… fondling… my…” I was on the verge of passing out to be sure, but his stroking of my breasts was keeping me awake and alert for some reason.

“You must have found it quite difficult to look after yourself, Diane. This world isn’t exactly a nice place to live. And ruining your body on drugs can’t possibly lead to a happy life, I’m sure you know.”

“Why are you doing this… who are… you?”

“I am your friend and savior, Diane. If you’ll trust me, I’ll take good care of you.”

That was the last thing I heard from the voice before I went to sleep. I just didn’t have the energy.

His voice would be the first thing I heard the next time I was stirred from unconsciousness, only this time, things felt even stranger...

I was in a medical bed this time. But I was strapped down at my shoulders, hands, waist, thighs, and feet. I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to! I even had a strap wrapped around my head so I couldn’t jerk my neck to see where I was.

A cool chill blew through the room. No doubt in my mind. I was completely naked.

Next to my bed was a small speaker system that I could only see out of my peripheral vision.

“It’s good to see you’re awake, Diane. I was hoping to explain everything to you today.” The man’s voice whispered.

“What the hell is this? Why am I strapped in like some insane lunatic? And why can’t I see you?”

“I’m afraid that can’t be done, dear Diane, at least, not until you’ve overcome the effects of the heroin in your body. Do you have any idea how violent you are in your sleep?”

“This is rehab? What the hell? I didn’t ask for this! Untie me!”

“It’s such a shame, really it is.”

“Fuck you, you crazy ass!”

“Resorting to vulgar language only makes the relationship all the more complicated, dear. I can’t allow you to leave. You are just too precious a person. And you of all people need to know how special you are to me.”

“Special? Why? I don’t even know you!”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, Diane. You may not be aware of this yourself, but the potential in you is there. It will take a lot of hard work, determination, confidence, and concentrated effort for you to become what you used to be, but I know you can do it. In fact, I plan to make you even more beautiful than you ever were.”

This man’s whisper was so calm and detached from my own sense of panic that I had to stop and think about whom it was he was talking about.

“I can’t trust you…” I muttered.

“It’s not me you need to trust right now, Diane. It’s your inner self. I’m only providing you with the means to get this drug out of your system. You have to fight it, Diane. It is your body after all…”

“If it was my body then why won’t you let me leave? I live the way I want to, and I’ll die the way I want to!”

“You’re wrong about that… it may be your body, but it was your own choice to abandon its worth. If you’re willing to give up your own life… then give that life to me instead.”

“Fuck off, you perverted freak!” I spat.

“I can’t do that, Diane. Not when things are as complicated as they are now.”

“I could care less…”

“That’s exactly why I won’t let you leave. Not until you realize your potential and work towards it. And not until you hear the truth of what happened to you that night.”

“The truth? What does the truth have to do with me? And what do I have to do with you?”

“You ask as though it doesn’t concern you, but really it does. You were on a bridge hallucinating when it happened. You tried to commit suicide by jumping … a man saw you and tried to stop you, but in your stupor you decided to throw him over the railing instead.”

“I... what?!”

“That man who almost died was me. But I managed to grab the hand rail just as you knocked me over. My arm was virtually ripped out of my socket at the force. It may be months before I can use my arm again. But you laughed at me, clinging to life. You laughed at the humor of it. You despised your own life and you threatened mine. And then you walked away, leaving me to dangle with my arm, regardless of the pain.”

“….I don’t remember it… any of it…”

“You were the most beautiful woman I ever met, and I couldn’t stand to see such a woman in despair… and so I tried to save you. It’s only natural that you realize your situation.”

“But… I don’t even know you!!” Tears began to stream from my eyes, I couldn’t remember any of it, none of it made any sense.

“Getting to know me will be the easy part. Getting to know yourself and who you’re going to become is going to be quite the challenge.”

“Will you… will you forgive me?” There was dread in my voice as he calmly and soothingly spoke with me.

“It’s not me who you should seek forgiveness from, it’s your body. And from now on, your own body will be the only thing that punishes you. I’m just the one encouraging it.”

“What is it…. what are you planning!?” I begged him to answer me.

Silence was my only answer.

Even if he hadn’t strapped me from head to toe, naked, in an empty room, I was still wet with sweat. I was hungry, thirsty, angry, confused, depressed, scared, and feverish all at once, not to mention my entire body felt extremely sensitive to even the slightest cold breeze. I knew it was my body going through withdrawal… something perhaps he anticipated.

But something else I hadn’t anticipated, whenever my body felt especially sensitive, it came to his immediate attention. The more sensitive I felt, the more attention he paid to me, or perhaps I was being paranoid.

My mind was getting delirious. I faded in and out of consciousness and it got so bad I couldn’t tell if I was still sane anymore. I lost track of the time of day in that room as the light was neither bright nor excessively dark. I couldn’t even tell if I was dreaming or awake except when he spoke to me.

Many times I tried to break out of the straps, but they were reinforced with some kind of metal strips in them and could barely move let alone flex. I felt clamped in place for what seemed like days.

His voice would periodically break the silence.

“I know you’re aware that you’re going through withdrawal symptoms, this was the only way I could think of to keep your violent tendencies in check.”

“To hell with your methods…” I weakly spat.

“You’re probably wondering how long you’ve been in that room. I can tell you that it’s been exactly one week. I’ve done nothing as of yet, you’ve only been dealing with the removal of the substances in your body. I’ve been monitoring you when you sleep and making sure your food is intravenous and that waste is disposed of accordingly, no need to thank me.”

“If I’ve got tubes in me, how come I can’t see them? How do I know you’re not lying to starve me to death?”

I heard him chuckle softly into the radio speaker.

“It’s because I was prepared the first day you arrived. You see, you’re going through many changes from now on, changes of my design. I’m a very resourceful man you see.”

I cringed. This guy was going to kill me slowly, I just knew it. Somehow I must have driven him over the edge of sanity and now he wants to see me suffer.

“I suppose you’d be frightened of all the plans I’ve made for you, but telling you would probably make things worse than they actually are, so I’ll let them be surprises for you to discover as you continue to live in my care.”

“You mean live as a prisoner, bastard!”

“Oh don’t be so worried. It’s my intent to make sure you’re properly cared for, something you perhaps wouldn’t understand, seeing as you squandered yourself to other men.”

“Like that is any of your business…”

“It is... now.” He spoke as if I was his property.

“What you’re doing is wrong! Even if what I did was just as wrong… you think getting revenge against me will make you feel better?” I spoke to him coldly… trying to buy myself some time before he acted on his threats.

“I told you…” He spoke calmly and methodically, like some kind of medical technician, “This has more to do with your responsibility and maturity as a woman. Mistake or not, you threatened my life several times, even after the first… I can’t afford to release you in the state you’re in regardless, as for what I have planned… you wouldn’t be the first person to face this ordeal. It isn’t revenge. It isn’t about doing the right thing either. It is truth and consequence.”

“I’m being… punished?!?”

“Perhaps it’s a foreign concept to you, Diane, but most people have to receive some form of negative reinforcement so that they understand their own limitations. You must be reminded of the people and lives you sought to destroy, yourself included.”

“Even if…. even if I deserve whatever it is you’re planning… you’ll get your own punishment in the end! I promise you!”

“Now that, my dear, is an oath of vengeance. Perhaps at some point you’ll come to realize your way of thinking is just as destructive to others as it is to yourself. I’ll leave you to your thoughts for now… that is, until your body is purified from all the toxins it’s taken in over the years.”

The radio’s line went silent.

The room was quieter than ever before, and still I had no hope of moving. My arms were beginning to twitch from the stress. I knew before long I would be having convulsions from my withdrawal, but in that moment of personal terror, I could only think of how to escape this place, and how much I hated his voice.

Time passed like some kind of monotone soundless sense of nothing. The room was silent except for the periodic creaks of the reinforced bed I was strapped to. I could hear the sound of my breath echo in the room. My body had become so sensitive now to the slightest disturbances, that even my heart seemed to pound like a brass drum. My breasts were peaked in the sterile chill of that silence.

Immobility was something my body was beginning to become accustomed to, so I periodically would bang my limbs against my bonds. I did this so that I could remind myself my body belonged to me and no one else. My chest would rise and fall with every breath, and because my eyes needed some form of stimulus, I practiced flexing my fingers and imagining my eyes seeing the muscles slowly get stronger and stronger with every flex.

It was my hope, however much deluded, that I could overpower these bonds, and free myself.

In those moments of silence, I began to learn my own body’s sense of time, even if it wasn’t apparent. Even if there was no machine to tell me how he was feeding me, I could somehow tell when my hunger appeared and when it left. I could feel the nutrients systematically enter and leave my body from somewhere, though I wasn’t able to move my body enough to tell how just yet.

It got so that I knew the times of day my body would go through it’s periodical “shudders”, which, although not constant, were enough that I could tell when they occurred and that they only occurred every so often. After a while, I could predict when I would begin to shake, and then just let my body ride out the waves of violence as it rid itself of the demons I used to seek refuge in.

My mind spiraled back in time to when I first tried drugs… how stupid and ignorant I was, and how all of that led up to this very moment. And every time I convulsed in delirious shakes, sweating and drooling out all the chemicals I forced into my body for almost days at a time… well I started to think what this man had put me through was only something I deserved after all… I had wronged him, and there wasn’t anything I could do to make up for that except clean my self up for his sake.

Or at least, that’s what my brain was processing at the time. The shudders became more and more intense as time wore on… it got so bad I don’t think I remember half the experience because of all the mental blurring I went through. It was the sensation of my body in almost constant pain; beating itself senseless in violent shakes and twitches.

It was clear to me my body was no longer under my control.

After a long period of time, I blacked out… I have no idea for how long it was.

“Welcome to the land of the living, Diane.” A voice called to me, the radio voice was unmistakable.

I had almost forgotten his voice. It had been so long since we spoke.

When his voice rang in my ears, nausea began to flood my senses and everything appeared drowsy and disjointed. I couldn’t respond to anything he said properly… as though my mouth couldn’t function.

“The trial is half over, my dear. You’ve done well to make it this far. Most of the drugs you were so addicted to have left your body. You’ve been pushing fluids for at least two weeks now. I didn’t think you’d make so much progress so quickly, and for that, you will receive praise from me.”

“Mhhhhrrrrrmmmm….” My lips tried to move but they were slow and dry. My throat felt excessively sore.

“Now, now… don’t try to talk; you just recently went through a big session of unconscious vomiting. I cleaned up most of it, but you’ll have to push just a little bit more for me to get the rest of the chemicals out of your system. It’s just a matter of sweating them out. Then we can discuss the ‘changes’ I have in store for you. Farewell for now!”

I wanted to scream “Damn you to hell!” at him for doing this to me, but since I couldn’t move or speak, I could only breathe and stare at the radio with hate in my eyes.

Some time past and I stared at the white ceiling. In fact, everything except my own body was white. My skin was a pale grey from being sick, but the binds he tied me up in never felt stiff or confining to me for some reason. My guess was that he periodically flexed my muscles whenever I fell asleep.

The temperature in the room was beginning to feel like a big sauna for some reason, and I could feel my body begin to sweat and roast. If this was his way of getting rid of the rest of the drugs, it was working… as I never felt more sober or more tortured in all my life.

I always dreaded the moments I fell asleep because that’s when he would ‘work on me’. I would never find out what he did until I woke up the next day after. Usually my lips were moist or he would put oils and other stuff on my body to keep it from getting dry.

After some time had passed, the nausea I’d been having seemed to have vanished completely. All that remained was a sense of time at a standstill, my breathing, my heart beating, and the desire to sleep away this nightmare.

“It’s been a month, you know…” a voice came in my ears.

But this time it wasn’t on the radio. His voice was there, in the room!

I could hear his voice behind me; he was a good ten feet away.

I squirmed and twisted, but no amount of struggling allowed me to see him. I could only hear his voice.

“It’s with great pride, that I say you have cleared the first and most painful of your trials.”

Despite my exhaustion, my voice was aching to tell him something… anything. Just to prove I was alive and in defiance of his wishes.

“Please…. let me go…” despite my rage and anger… something in my voice was submitting to him… as though he were a distant god.

“You’re free of the poison. Your body no longer desires drugs. And you’ve only just begun to realize your potential.”

“I’m begging you… please….” My voice drifted off into small sobs of despair. Tears rolled down my face as I continued to dread what he had planned for me.

“You’ll thank me for this eventually… I know it.”

I felt a small prick on the side of my throat as fluid was injected into my neck.

My vision blurred into nothing.

I have no idea how long I had been under, but within the next few moments, I felt a sensation of ‘density’.

Things had changed. My perspective of the room had changed.

No longer was I staring at a white ceiling. I was staring at a white tiled floor.

I felt cool air drifting along my upper backside, like it was exposed somehow. Then suddenly a pair of rough hands began to fondle my rear with tugging and pressing motion.

“Wh… what?” I yelped.

“Your ass is clean.” The voice said, somewhat satisfied. “It’s expected that you’ll be using it a lot from now on, especially the lower muscles of your legs.”

“I’ll be… doing… what?” My eyes darted around to see if there was any way to turn my head, but all I could see were the tiles on the floor. I didn’t see any feet either.

I wanted to kick him, but there was no power in my body… I felt limp.

He lifted my legs and flexed them by the knees. Each about 30 times… like an exercise.

“You’ll have to get used to crouching, Diane. There’s no getting around it.”


“It won’t be long before you begin to understand the life of obedience and trust, of loyalty and respect, of servitude, of humility.”

I felt a firm set of boards get clamped to the back my ankles… I could feel the muscles in my heels begin to stretch and strain… it started to hurt. My mouth moaned and I started to drool in pain.

He heard me groan, and suddenly began to touch my vagina… gently… around the outer areas… like a slight caress.

I was feeling pain but, I was beginning to feel a massage as well… it was… strange.

“You’ll get used to everything soon…. and you’ll learn to love who you become.”

He soon left the room, leaving me with a dripping vagina, a drooling face, and a dull pain in my heels from the board forcing my feet to bend at the tips. I decided this was too much stimulation, and tried to sleep.

The next time I was awake, he was examining my arms and hands… seemingly measuring them with a ruler… the feeling made me nervous.

I couldn’t see, and he had literally pulled my arms back like a chicken’s wings, not forced, but simply examining them.

“Tell me, Diane, how does this feel?”

He slid my arms into a pair of long sleeves… but these sleeves did not end in gloves or balls or interacted with each other…

My hands were forced into something hard and square-like, with a round surface, not even shaped for my hands at all. More like… for my feet.

“It’s rough and uncomfortable… get these off me!!”

“I see…”

And to my surprise he quickly took them off and let my arms drop limp back to their sides.

“I’ll have to modify the inside so that your hands will get used to them.”

Before I could ask him anything, he was gone… leaving me to continue straining against the leg boards attached to my ankles.

I could only wonder at what he was thinking… what was he doing to me… for me? This was the first time he’d even been considerate of my opinion… what was going on?

The next day came and my pain was less dull.

“Well, I think it’s time to put these to the test.” His voice had a slight smile in it.

For the first time in 3 days he took the board clamps off my legs. I could feel blood rush near the bottom of my ankles, but it still felt rather stiff.

He put some kind of powder on my legs and feet thoroughly, making me curious as to what would happen next.

He grabbed my feet and slid them into some long sleeves of what I could only describe as thick rubber. The end of which ended in a pair of strange heels. These heels had a clamping effect on my ankles, forcing them to point straight down like the boards he’d clamped on my feet. And while having those on for three days straight did hurt… this in and of itself wasn’t too bad.

“Well, how do they fit?” He asked me.

“What… what is this?”

“It’s part of the first step. You’ll get used to it eventually.”

Afterwards he began to flex my legs at the knee again… this time he did it 50 times, making sure the blood in my legs was hot and flexible. Then one final time he folded my knees upwards.

“What…. what are you doing?”

He wouldn’t answer.

Instead, he slid a pair of what I could only describe as heavy tight-fitting bands around my knees, clamping them down, but not closing them altogether. My knees were now forced to bend inwards, though I could still move my legs out slightly, they could no longer lay flat on the bed anymore, and would stick upwards.

It felt like my legs were getting turned into a frog’s legs. Unmoving, bent upwards, and covered in smooth rubber…. I didn’t know what to think or how to respond.

Without another word, he just left me like that. Given no other choice… I slept.

When I woke up, something had happened while I slept.

I was now right-side up with my legs up in the air bent like a frog… wearing a mask of some kind with a darkened visor so I couldn’t see. I could breathe, but the fact I couldn’t speak or see didn’t help matters.

“I see you decided to sleep in today… such a lazy pet.”

It wasn’t just a mask I happened to be wearing… I was covered in a rubber suit from head to foot. And some kind of tightening corset made my back and neck completely stiff, but curved, forcing me to hunch over slightly. It wasn’t uncomfortable… but at the same time it wasn’t something I was used to.

“…..” I had nothing to say to this monster or his plans.

“You’re just in time to see my new gifts get put on you.”

He had my hands brush up against a pair of what I think were rubber sleeves, smooth tight material. I had no idea what he wanted, but he wanted me to wear these I guess.

He drew my arms up, and slid the sleeves snugly along my arms, one at a time. At the end of the sleeve I felt a familiar shape… they certainly felt like shoes… but these were more modified for my hands… I guess this was what he meant.

The surface was softer, but tighter around my hands, forcing me to make fists. Once they were on, I felt a gentle ‘click’ around my wrists, which apparently meant they were locked in place.

“Now for your last gift and then we can begin your training.”

I felt him gently touch my shoulders, although they were covered in rubber, I felt a collar get placed around my stiff neck. He clipped it in place and gently tugged it.

“Alright, time to get up, Diane. Your new life awaits.” He said this, and suddenly touched my vagina in gentle reassuring strokes… I hadn’t noticed before, but it was still completely bare and exposed… and seemed to react immediately to his gentle hands.

I had no control over it… I started to cry in the darkness of the suit.

Using a strength I didn’t know he had… he lifted my whole body and placed me on the ground of the tile floor.

“Now it’s time to show you the world.” He said, peeling back what appeared to be duct tape around my mask.

The first thing I saw was a mirror… and through the mask, I saw something I had not anticipated.

Me covered in a rubber suit with a mask that made me look like a dog with a collar. My knees were clamped by rubber bands, forcing me to crouch down and sit like a canine. Instead of dog’s feet however, my hands and feet were covered by four en-point ballet boot heels made in molded rubber, and locked in place.

I had become a dark dog of rubber, my only exposed self was my vagina, eagerly wet and pulsing for pleasure… I had become someone’s pet. His pet.

“Come along now, Diane,” He tugged on his leash, “I’ll take you for walkies and we can enjoy the world for what it really is.”

My hands were suddenly forced to behave like my feet, and my trapped legs forced to inch along with my knees and crouch along.

This was pain. This was humiliation. And this was my punishment for disregarding life.

For the first time, I stared up at the man I would soon learn to call my Master… his face was gentle and stoic, and his body strong and reliable, despite what I had done to him.

“This will be the beginning of a life you will learn to love and respect, Diane. Just as I love you and take care of you.”

My eyes welled with tears as I realized there was no escape from this man… or from whom I was destined to become.


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