In the Land of the Dolls

Part 1: There has been a mistake here.

“Look, there has clearly been a mistake here”

“Madame, allow me to assure you that you are mistaken. Your order has been processed exactly as you placed it. I have it on the computer in front of me”

“And I assure you that this is not what I ordered”

“Madame, I have to tell you that you have received exactly what you ordered. 1 large size child’s doll. Snow White type. And that is all you will be charged for”

Something in my brain finally clicked over as I looked at the delivery that stood in front of me and I realised that I should shut up. Just for once, the mistake was in my favour.

I apologised for bothering the lady on the phone and hung up. For standing before me was not a single large Snow White type doll, but a full half dozen. All immaculately boxed and gift wrapped with bright pink ribbons. There was a bow on the top of each box and they looked quite divine. I had only intended to order 1, in fact I had ordered only 1, but somehow I had six of the things, and I saw a lot of happy nieces over the coming months.

I picked up the nearest box and found it heavier that I had expected. Must be a quality product I guessed, not having handled any dolls since my childhood. I tugged at the ribbons. They were tightly applied and I didn’t want to break them so it took me quite a while to figure out a way to slip them off without damaging anything.

Finally, after a lot of struggling and wrestling I had the box open and as I upended it the doll slid out into my arms. Dropping the box I reversed the doll and stood it on the table.

I stood maybe 3 feet tall, and to my surprise it balanced perfectly on it’s feet, standing upright without any help from me. She was wearing the long yellow Snow White dress with the tight blue bodice dress her makers had specified. I reached out and touched the face. It was soft to my touch and felt scarily realistic. Even the black hair felt genuine to the touch and I almost shivered as I ran my fingertips over her figure.

Unlike many dolls she actually looked a realistic shape. Despite her generous breasts, they tapered down to an acceptable waist, then flared out over genuine rounded hips. I lift the long skirt and looked at realistic and rather sexy legs so unlike the skinny things I had seen on some dolls in the window of the local toy store.

I peered back into the box and saw a plastic bag in the bottom with a bundle of extra clothes for the doll in it. I recalled reading something about each doll coming with an alternative outfit so I didn’t bother to unpack it. I could see an odd boot and some black material, but I assumed it was just another Disney costume. Not having watched a Disney film for many a long year I had no idea what character it might be of, and even had I taken the trouble to take it out, I had no doubt that I would not have been any the wiser.

I packed the doll back away and carefully slipped the ribbons back around the box before putting it back in line with all it’s boxed friends. They made a strange looking battalion as they stood there in a line. All identical. Perfect, tall and yet somehow just a little creepy. As I walked away from them I had this unsettling feeling that they were watching me. Shaking my head to clear away such silly thoughts I gathered them all up and shoved to the back of a cupboard before making my way upstairs to bed. It had been a long day and I was looking forwards to embrace of my bed sheets.

The sound from downstairs shocked me awake and I sat up with a start. Had I really heard something downstairs, or had I been imagining things ? I picked up the heavy metal torch from the bedside cabinet and moved to the head of the stairs.

From where I stood all I could see was darkness, but something still nagged at me. Using the top landing switch I flicked on the slights and waited for a moment before stepping down onto the stairs.

All was silent and still downstairs and I was soon chiding myself for my overactive imagination. But as I descended the stairs I was still swinging the long flashlight in my hand in case I was wrong. I moved from room to room, but found nothing. Every window and door was secure.

When I entered the last room I saw the one door ajar, and in front of that cupboard stood one of the Snow White dolls. Upright and out of her box. I frowned and walked over to the doll. Nothing else in the room seemed to have been disturbed. Picking her up I turned her over in my hands but she seemed undamaged. I placed her in the sofa and opened the cupboard door to find her box.

As the door swung open at my touch I gasped as I saw six open boxes lying on the floor and not another doll to be seen. I whirled at a sound behind me and found myself facing three of the dolls standing on the floor before me. And whatever might have been in the bottom of those boxes, they certainly were not Disney costumes.

Each of the dolls had somehow let their coal black hair down so it now hung loose about their shoulders. And their bodies were now swathed in tight black lycra catsuits, their feet clad in spike heeled boots that rose to their knees. And each one was carrying a long whip.

I took a swift pace away from them and a disbelieving part of my eye saw one of them move. The whip cracked out and snapped tight about my ankle. The figure hauled it tight and I felt my balance shake as the doll still in it’s Snow White outfit leapt from the sofa and landed on my chest with a thud. Tiny hands clung on tightly to my top as I felt myself start to stagger.

As I wrested with the suddenly animate doll I felt another whip snap tight about my other ankle and the suddenly strong dolls both gave a concerted heave. Still wrestling with the doll on my chest I felt myself toppling backwards.

My back hammered into the carpet and knocked the wind out of me as I threw the Snow White away from me with all my strength. I started to rise, dragging myself up on my elbows in time to see the two giant dolls who had lassoed my ankles run off in opposite directions, snapping the whip tethers tight. My ankles were jerked away from me and my back hit the floor again with a jarring thump.

From out of nowhere Snow White was on me again, leaping onto my chest and adding her weight to keeping me flat on my back.

Exhibiting inhuman strength the two lycra sheathed dolls hauled me along the carpet, my arms flaying out above me head as I was dragged along. From somewhere about her person Snow White suddenly had a handful of that red packing ribbon in her hands and she was forcing them down between my teeth to gag me.

I bit down hard on it and tried to shake her off by shaking my head wildly, and I heard myself let out a whimper as I felt something snap about my trailing wrists, first one, then the other.

Throwing my head back as best I could I saw the two missing dolls had lassoed my trailing wrists with lengths of that tough packing ribbon and were even now hauling the nooses tight.

Their extra outfits were tiny flared miniskirts, tight bodices and stiletto heeled ankle boots, their black hair somehow now curly and wild about their faces. I saw them look up across my prone body, nod towards the lyrca clad dominas that had my ankles prisoner and together they all charged away from me at the same moment.

My joints screamed as I was suddenly speadeagled tight on the floor. I let out a cry, and moments later Snow White had that gag tied off tight about my neck and I was both tied and gagged on my own living room floor.

I desperately tried to haul myself up from the floor, but the dolls seemed to have inhuman strength for their size. With Snow White’s weight on my chest and my limbs pulled tight all I managed was a floor bound shiver as I threw my head about while my limbs remained resolutely pinned.

Snow White stood up on my chest, balanced on my ribcage just below the heaving mounds of my breasts, and as I watched she slipped off her skirt, and where it slid down her damn near perfect legs she revelled tightly suspendered black stockings over spike heeled court shoes that dug into my lightly covered flesh. With a shrug of her shoulders the chaste bodice fell away to reveal a gleaming black leather basque that thrust gleaming white breasts up and out in a most un-disney-like way. A wild shake of her head and she too was wearing her hair long and wild about her face. And she was smiling down at me.

She slipped off my heaving chest and was joined by the last of the dolls, as resplendent as the others in that gleaming lycra catsuit that hugged every perfect scaled down curve of her body.

Tiny hands dived forwards , there was a ripping sound and I felt my glorious breasts bouncing free as I fought for all I was worth against these unearthly dolls. I tried to shout, to protest, but all that came out past that damn ribbon gag was inarticulate squealing and wailing. There was more ripping, and I knew I was lying naked and bound before them.

I watched them lean forwards, one standing either side of me, and I squealed as tiny teeth and tongues settled over my nipples and did things for me I had long begged and pleaded with every boyfriend I had ever had to do. I howled, I squealed, and I felt my nipples respond to their tender caresses. Tiny tongues swirled and tiny teeth nipped playfully as I felt my nipples swelling in their mouths.

One of the dolls threw something to them, and they flourished something in the air, just rising into the line of my vision. There were tiny bells attached to something I couldn’t quite make out, then my nipples were afire, and with every movement there was a tiny tinkling of bells. The bitches, the tiny, inhuman bitches had fitted me with nipples clamps, tiny belled nipple clamps that tinkling and rang with my every tormented movement.

I felt rather than saw the two dolls at my ankles running fast from left to right, dragging my ankles after them. Suddenly my ankles were tied fast together. Faster than I could comprehend those at my wrists repeated the act and my wrists were swiftly crossed and tied off to a solid piece of furniture behind me.

Now they were all standing around me. Staring down at me. I had never felt to so embarrassed, so ashamed, and, yes, damn it, so turned on.

The stocking clad domina who had been Snow White and appeared to be their leader produced something from behind her back and again mounted my chest. Her long legs clung to me like a rider to a horse, and as she lent towards my face I could see what she held in her half-scale hands. It was a collar, with a tiny gold bell just like the ones that tormented my nipples. She held it up and gave it a little shake for good measure. It tinkled just as a bell should.

I gulped as I heard it ring, and I felt myself becoming still as she leaned forwards and slipped it about my throat. She was smiling again as she fastened it, and I felt tears growing in my eyes as she pulled it slowly tight and fastened the big buckle beneath my ear.

She slid off my body and uttered something to her fellows in a language I did not understand. Tiny figures moved fast, twelve hands pressed against me and before I could react I was on my chest, easily turned by their disproportionate strength and once again winded.

I turned my head to watch as they unfurled more of that damn packing ribbon and three dashed to either end of my naked body and out of my sight. I felt my wrists come loose and something was tickling my ankles before they all ran back into my vision from differing directions. As they rushed past in opposite directions my body was suddenly twisted and I let out a howl as my arms were hauled backwards and my legs bent hard at the knees. The head doll in the stockings leapt onto my back and as I kicked back with my legs I almost snapped my arms out of their sockets and I realised my wrists and ankles were now tightly tied together in a strict hogtie. The little bitches had me right where they wanted me and there was nothing I could do about it.

I felt the leader doll doing something as she stood on my shoulders. I could feel the tiny pinpricks of her heels in my flesh and I did my best to wriggle and throw her off, but all I managed was a snake-like shuffle on my stomach accompanied my the distant tinkling of the three bells now fitted to my defenceless body.

She took a hank of my hair in her hand and I felt her balance changing as she lent forwards, and moments later I could feel the hot breath from her tiny mouth on my hear. From a fraction of an inch away she spoke to me in a terrible soft tone that made my body still and my blood run cold.

“Stay still my little one. The fun has only just begun for you”

She sprang over my head and stood in front of me, her back to me as she started to wave her hands in the air before her. The others were chanting something in their strange language and as I watched the air in front of her started to swirl and glow, quickly resolving itself into a whirling sea of clouds and lightning.

I caught a treacherous part of me admiring her perfect arse and those delightfully positioned stockings and her poise on those wicked heels before I redoubled my struggling and squealing as they all lifted me up off the carpet and suddenly I was moving towards that terrible swirling light.

The lead domme in the stockings stepped straight into the light and was swallowed up by it as if she had never been there. I let out as loud a wail as I could manage through my gag and I felt hot tingling as my head met the bright light. There was a feeling as if I was being pressed through hot cotton wool, and suddenly I was lying on my chest again, only now it was not carpet under me but straw and cool flagstones.

I twisted in my bondage, desperately trying to see where I was, and I could hear laughing from all around me from the group of lycra clad dolls who had somehow made me their prisoner.

“Welcome to our land little Funling” the leader said as she smiled down at me, “And to a whole new part of your life!”

Part 2: Making the Bells Ring

My arms were still tied behind my back, tight ropes fastened about my wrists, and another loop had been added above my elbows to force my straining arms into a column of knot-muscled agony.

There was a tight collar about my throat, and from the three gleaming steel D rings ran long lines of rope that drove me forwards ever forwards to a fate the finer details of which I could only guess at.

I stand at about 5ft 6 in my bare feet, and right now I have never felt barer. Deprived of so much as a stitch of clothing, my bare feet are scrabbling for grip on straw covered flag stones.

I had been blushing, but now my pale skin is back to it’s natural shade as other things have overtaken my natural desire to be embarrassed. My long red hair is flying out about me as I feel myself throwing my head back and forth, my feet struggling for grip as my three tormentresses drag me towards a wooden construction in the middle of the room.

They each stand barely three feet tall, and every one of them is quite a perfect figure of the tiny feminine form. Some trick of gravity seems to give them a mass and strength way beyond their size, and each one of them has the other end of those ropes attached so carefully to my collar.

Just like the giant dolls they resemble, each is perfectly attired in a costume that seems drawn from reality, yet somehow different and just a little too perfect. In this case, each of them is clad like a tiny riding mistress, their tight arses sheathed in implausibly tight riding breeches, their riding boots gleaming just that little bit too brightly, and their shirts just a little too bright a shade of white.

But of their strength there is no doubt. As I watch their pony tails swing back and forth and their tight arses wriggling within their skintight jodphurs they are dragging me forwards, ever forwards no matter how I try to resist them. And before us stands an looking evil construction of pale wood that must be my fate.

And overlaying everything is the tinkling of the bells. A damn bell that they have hung from the front of that high leather collar that enables them to drag me to my fate. There had been others attached to my poor nipples, but they have removed them for now. Hopefully for ever.

Attentive hands had salved my tormented nipples with a warm unction that had reduced me to tears as those soft hands had lovingly applied it with firm strokes and swirling movements that had reduced my to a blubbering orgasmic wreck.

My eyes distracted by that wooden construction I am taken by surprise when there was a sudden scurrying of feet and six hands were suddenly behind me and lifting me up onto the wooden table. A wooden table with some terrible attachments.

I crashed down on my back, my arms screaming as they bent under my weight, my shoulders twisting down until they brushed the rough planking. Two of them sprang up with me and I was treated to a brief glimpse of a pair of impossibly perfect arses rushing past me towards my feet as they moved to do their evil work.

Half-scale hands grabbed my ankles and hauled on them, pulling what little purchase I had out from under me. I watched helpless of they swung up the top half of a set of wooden stocks at the end of the wooden bed and pressed my unwilling ankles into the cut-outs. I tried desperately to pull them out of their grasp, but they were too strong for me and I watched in tears as they lowered the top plank and I felt the padded holes take a firm and implacable grasp on my ankles.

They ran swiftly back up the wooden bed, their wicked heels hammering on the woodwork as they rushed past my head and eager hands tugged at the bonds on my arms.

I felt the cords part and I my muscles wailing in protest as those same eager hands swiftly twisted them out from under me and I was crying as my muscles unknotted from their bondage and were quickly unwound until they were stretched out above my head.

I watched in horror as a second set of stocks was opened above me and my wrists became the prisoners of another set of tightly padded wooden gaps.

My tormentresses sprang away from me and I took in a silent study of my situation. Stretched tight on those boards between two sets of rigid wooden stocks I was as helpless as I had ever been. I had played bondage games for years with allsorts of people, but I had never felt so out of control. Our of my comfort zone, so helpless, and so damn horny it wasn’t true.

I heard footsteps approaching, and there was a sudden flurry of movement as the figure I shall always think of as ‘Snow White’ sprang up onto the boards beside me. Pinned flat as I was, her three feet of height towered over me as I looked up the line of her magnificently perfect legs.

“Welcome to our land little Funling” she said “and before you say anything, get used to that. You are a funling now. A human brought here just for our fun. For our pleasure” She smiled wider as she watched my mind working on what she had just said to me, “But fear not, all is not going to be bad for you. While we are having fun, at times your will experience pleasure and delight beyond your wildest dreams and fantasies.”

“And how long will you keep me here ?” I gasped. She laughed down at me.

“Well, as long as we wish of course. But no times passes here for you funlings. You could stay here for years, never age, and when you go back barely a minute will have passed for you back in your world.”

She could see the turmoil in my features as she looked down at me as my mind digested this information.

“But first, we have a little ceremony we call ‘making the bells ring’ that we go through will all our new funlings.”

She lay down by my side and I felt her soft fingers tracing the lines of the tight muscles of my torso. She bent a tightly jodphured leg and pressed her tightly muscle thigh against me.

“My, but what a splendid body you have my love. I can tell I am going to enjoy having you in my life,” she purred, then I heard a faint sound that I had heard before, and which filled me with dread.

She lifted her hand into view and gave it a little shake. Two little bells dangled from a wicked looking clip, and they gave off a delicate ringing as they shook. I knew exactly where they were going to be fastened and the prospect filled me with dread. I could hear myself pleading as she squeezed the clip and the jaws slowly opened to reveal a rough surface on the inside of the jaws.

She smiled and lent towards my helpless breasts, her mouth enveloping my nipple. The sudden warm embrace of her mouth made it spring to attention, and I felt her tongue caress it roughly until it was hard in her mouth. Withdrawing quickly she allowed the nipple clamp to close tightly on my flesh and I let out a wail of pain.

The second nipple clamp followed swiftly on my other breast, and as I pleaded for mercy a jangling handful of fresh bells was clipped to me collar and Snow White was laughing at my pain and discomfort.

“Now my little funling,” she quipped, “It is time for us to make those bells ring!”

I looked down my helpless body as I hear the clatter of heels somewhere near my feet. There were two dolls standing beyond the stock board that held my feet prisoner, and through my tears of pain I could see them holding up large feathers. For a moment I could not imagine what they had in mind, then the reality of their plans hit me.

With big smiles on their faces they lent forwards and applied the very tips of the feathers to the souls of my poor defenceless feet. For a moment I resisted, kept my sanity, concentrated my mind of the pain in my nipples, but it was all a sham and I knew it. I was ticklish, ticklish as hell, and I knew what was going to happen next.

The fist wave of inside tickles pleasure hit me hard, and my wails of pain and protest were overtaken with gales of helpless, debilitating laughter. I screamed, I laughed, I cried. I felt my feet twisting and turning in their stocks, but no matter how hard I twisted and turned them those terrible tickling feather tips followed them, dragging themselves across my tender souls, danced between my toes and caressing my delicate ankles. More feather joined the assault on my flanks, dragging themselves slowly down my tender ribs and across my stomach until my laughter turned into a maniacal scream from which there was no return.

I threw myself back and forth in my bondage, desperate beyond all measure to escape from those damn feathers, but those two stocks held me tight and fast on my back. But above and beyond the creaking of my wooden bonds and my screams of laughter I could hear another sound. The sound of my bells ringing as they swung back and forth at my throat and upon my nipples, and I knew I was theirs for as long as they wanted to keep me.

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.

Part 4: Out in the Garden

My twin sister and I were curled up together in our stall, The thick straw on the ground insulated us from the cold flags. Our arms curled about each other and our heads so close together our long red hair was mixed together where we lay. Our limbs had grown muscular and tanned under their regime of exercise and sexual torment. A regime that they controlled ruthlessly. The Dolls.

I am sure there was some technical name for them, but to me they would always be The Dolls. Strange, almost half-scale figures of feminine perfection standing scarce a yard tall like some large child’s doll and always immaculately turned out in a range of gloriously sexy outfits. They had captured us, taken us to their world of endless sunshine and sexual torment to be their playthings. Or funlings as they called us.

The faintest of sounds came to my ears and I raised my head slightly. One of them was standing by the door to our stall watching us. She was the one I always labelled Leader, but I had no way if she was or not. Who knows what sort of society they had or how it worked.

She pushed the door open and I saw an outfit I had never seen before. It clung to her every tiny but perfect curve as ever, an outfit of denim. A playsuit of breathtakingly tight hotpants and dungaree top with nothing beneath. Her swelling breasts pushed out the skimpy top and the buttons strained under the pressure. Her cleavage rose and fell as she breathed heavily, looking down at us where we lay. We excited her I was sure, and I filed that information way at the back of my mind for future use, but for the moment we were under her control.

She whistled sharply making my sister start in to waking, her head rising and staring blearily at the Doll as she started down at us. The Doll beckoned to us and walked away, her arse wriggling delighfully within the confines of those incredible hotpants. Without thinking we rose and walked after her. There was no point is resisting after all, we were trapped in her world with no hope of escape until they chose to release us.

Following the tiny figure was walked out of the stables through a new door and as the sunshine started to warm our now athletic bodies we found ourselves in a garden. Flower beds were dotted apparently at random about the lawn and brightly coloured flowers were everywhere.        

I heard my sister gasp and she cannoned into me as she sprang away from one of the flower beds. As I gathered her up in my arms and tried to comfort her she was pointing at one of the flower beds and crying wordlessly.

Letting her loose I stepped towards to flower bed to see what had startled her and jumped back myself as a green tendril swung towards me and seemed to make a grab for me. Suddenly aware of how dangerous the garden really was we huddled together while the denim-clad Leader smiled at us. She was clearly enjoying our fear, and judging by the look in her eyes she was finding it a real turn-on. 

She moved towards us with that smile dancing about her face, and as she passed each flowerbed we saw the fronds sway towards her in a fashion that made our blood flow hot and fast. There was something both frightening and exciting at the thought of the animated plants, and as my eyes met those of my sister we hatched a plan.

As The Leader came within reach we both launched ourselves at her. Complete surprise was ours and before she could brace herself our four hands slammed against her denim-clad frame and sent her flying. She crashed into one of the flower beds and before our eyes it came to life.

She struggled to her feet and made a lunge for the open grass but tendrils of the foliage snapped closed about her ankles and she sprawled on the grass with her feet still deep within the flower bed. She let out a wail and we watched in silent wonder as the plants started to haul her back in. Her hands scrabbled desperately at the grass and her eyes were wide as she struggled for grip on the smooth lawn as she was being dragged to her fate.

Fronds and tendrils wrapped themselves about the length of her legs as they were dragged back over the flower bed. She reached back to try and free her legs and tendrils snapped closed about her hands and she screamed as she felt them being tied tightly crossed behind her and she became completely helpless.

A sturdy green growth reared up on front of her a she screamed  as it lunged deep into her open mouth and reduced her scream to a helpless burbling and then silent as she struggled impotently against the writhing green bonds.

We could see the green tentacle in her mouth pulsing, pumping something between her lips and watched as her eyes crossed, her cheeks flushed and her struggles seemed to become less frantic.

Long fronds slid up beneath her denim playsuit and we watched them flexing and writhing about her bare breasts and she began to thrash about again, but this time for a very different reason. We watched as her hands fought their organic bonds desperately but her poor mouth uttered only moans of passion past the green root that had made it it’s prisoner. The fastenings of her denim top failed and as the flap fell open we saw the soft fronds dancing across the tender flesh in a wicked rhythm that was bringing tears to her eyes.

Spellbound we watched as a solid frond rose from the mass behind her, rose high above her tight arse and swayed as smaller fronds hauled her now loose shorts from her writhing arse. Then, in a single, graceful movement it dived downward and took her roughly from behind until, she was screaming with a terrible mixture of passion and terror as her body responded to the plants rough advances.

I was barely aware of my sisters quickening breathing as we watched the scene unfolding before us and I could feel myself flushing as I watched with a morbid fascination. Then, without warning the grass was flying up to meet my face. The wind was knocked out of me as I hit the floor, and part of my befuddled brain registered that I was moving without any mental input from me.

I heard my sister scream, and a warm tightness about my ankles forced its way into my mind. I looked back over my shoulder as my fingers fought for grip on the grass and I saw soft green tendrils tight about my ankles dragging me back into a flower bed, a flower bed where the foliage was swishing and thrashing as if stirred by hurricane winds and I knew where my fate lay.

I looked imploringly up at my sister. She was backing away from me with a look of horror on her face, but looking at me rather than at where she was backing way to. She felt the gentle swish of the fronds against her back and started forwards just too late as the long fronds of a tree closed about her, swathing her from head to ankle in a rippling curtain of sensual torment.

I felt the creepers twining their way up my legs as they dragged me backwards to my fate as my fingers dragged impotent grooves in the lawn. As firm blows started to fall on my upturned buttocks in a brisk rhythm I let out a cry of frustration, then a scream when a broad but silky smooth green tentacle mounted me and filled me to capacity. There was a crack like a whip and smooth plant tendril coiled about my throat and I felt myself gasp at the warmth of its embrace. Other silky tendrils were coiling about my body and as I felt my body start to surrender something brushed against my lips. I allowed them to part and allowed the rounded end of a soft tendril to slip between them and swallowed hungrily as I felt it start to pump out some warm fluid that set my body aflame with desire.

I willingly thrust my hands behind my back and the perverted part of me rejoiced as I felt tendrils tie them tightly together and make me the plants utter prisoner.

As I saw wide leaves move to cut off my view of the world I hauled my head back to look up at my sister. I saw her arms sticking out from behind the wall of swishing leaves that hid her from view and I could hear her hysterical screams as she tried to free herself from the embrace of the plant as it beat her body with those long, soft leaves, and part of me wanted to be her as I could hear the beginnings of arousal in her voice. Then the wide leaves closed about my head and I was lost in my own little world of darkness and passion as for a long time I lost what little remained of my mind to a wild, animal passion as I gave my body to the flowers.

Part 5: And Then There Were Three

The sun beat down on our bare flesh and we were both gaining a glorious tan at odds with our bright red hair and steely blue eyes. Bright red hair that was growing long and thick in a way it seldom did back home. Home, ah what a delightful thought that was. And then, some days, only a distant memory to which I had no wish to return.

I shifted on the hard ground to relieve the aches in the muscles of my legs and my shoulders, and the other glorious redhead to my left shifted likewise and we both half-turned our heads to look at each other through that curtain of luxuriant hair.

My shining blue eyes met hers of deep hazel and we both shivered. My beautiful twin sister, captured no doubt as I was by our tiny captors and dragged from her home in to their world where we were the objects of their fun and their pleasure.

As we shifted we heard the faint ringing sound of the tiny bells that dangled from our nipples, a faint but terribly insistent sound that reminded us of our lowly status in this place. If they really wanted to reduce us below our status of beings fit only to give them pleasure they added a third, larger bell to our collars which rang with our every tiny movement and could drive us both to utter distraction.

I wanted to reach out to my dear twin sister and lift that curtain of hair out of her eyes so we could see each other clearly, but my hands were otherwise occupied, as were hers. Occupied as ever by our restraints, restraints that held us fast to a tiny cart designed to carry one of our captors and give her the pleasure of driving us about her grounds. For their pleasure and amusement of course. For we were their playthings, of their Funlings as they chose to call us. Prisoners of the tiny, sexually perverted females we has christened The Dolls.

Our arms and bodies were held prisoner by wicked yet surprisingly comfortably harnesses of dark leather. There were buckles and leather. There were always buckles and leather about our limbs, keeping us their prisoner until one of our captors saw fit to let us free and return us to our stalls.

A broad collar was fastened about our throats, and from it dangled a mass of dark straps that were wrapped and fastened about our bodies. Our breasts were cupped and lifted by a network of straps that cradled and lifted them up in to prominence, their gentle and insidious caress making our nipples stand proud in the sunshine to be nipped sharply by the clamps from which our bells dangled.

A long strap ran the length of our spines and split at the small of our backs to wrap about the tops of our thighs. A wide belt rolled out from that back strap and tightened snugly about our waists and to this our wrists were manacled behind us. A final strap curled down from that waist belt and was pulled snug up between our legs where it gently rubbed us with every movement until we were so sexually frustrated we would submit to near any indignities to be allowed some relief.

Completing our bondage was a bridle of tight straps wrapped about our heads, the straps dividing across our faces intruding just enough in to our vision to make us keep moving our heads to get a clear view and it gave us a terrible equine aspect, reinforced all the more by the steel bits pulled tight between our teeth which allowed our captors to control our every movement with their reins that ran back to the seat on the cart to which we were harnessed.

We both gave our heads a shake and returned our eyes to the field before us where the leader of our tiny captors was putting another of their ponygirls through her paces.

She was harnessed to a single cart, her bare flesh wrapped in a harness very like ours, but our time here had taught us that every one was slightly different, rubbing or holding you slightly differently every time you were dragged out and put to use. Every cart ride was different and you never, ever knew how it would feel.

She was pulling one of the tiny Dolls round the smooth grass field with considerable stamina, her limbs thicker and stranger than ours pumping hard and regular. Her thighs and hips were more curvy and muscled than ours, her waist more pronounced and her shoulders both broader and more muscular.

But like us her hair was red, fairer and flecked with grey perhaps but still thick and luxurious. They clearly had a thing for the redheads these Dolls, and not for the first time we wondered what happened at the other homesteads in the strange land into which we had been drawn.

We both felt a sudden weight on our harness and our heads turned in unison to see one of our tiny, doll-like captors had sprung in to the seat of the cart and was smiling at us as she gathered up the reins on her hands. A coaching whip stood upright in its stand at her side but she did not take it up.

Scarcely a yard tall she was as perfectly formed as they all were, like half-scale people, or like a giant child’s doll. Immaculately turned out as ever in a fantasy riding outfit of gleaming skintight jodphurs, shiny boots that rode well above her knees and a tight white shirt with an opened top button that revealed an acre of cleavage.

She gave the reins a crack that made us wince and we were away across that smooth grassy field, our legs pumping in unison. Our twin-ness turned us out as a perfect coaching pair, knees rising and falling in perfect time, our heads tossing together and as we ran faster our glorious red manes flew out behind us.

Across the field we cantered, a sharp tug on the reins pulled me to the left and we executed a perfect smooth turn and I could hear the faint cheers from other dolls as they were watching our performance from the edges of the field.

On and on we cantered performing ever more elaborate turns and manoeuvres as we moved in perfect unison. I cast a glance at my sister and realised how sexy I must look. Every inch of her flesh was covered with a glowing layer of sweat, and as she ran she breathed hard, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm making her bells ring delightfully. And as she tossed her head to keep her hair out of her eyes it flew out behind her like a wild equine mane and I realised what a magnificent pairing we must look.

Driven long and hard we were finally guided back towards the stables and as we clattered to a halt our driver sprang from her seat with our reins in her hands. Barely allowed to stand for a moment she led us along to where the other pony and trap was standing.

With a tiny smile on her perfect lips she led us around the other parked cart until the single pony pulling it could turn her face to see us. We all flushed a deep scarlet within our wicked harnesses and our lips wordlessly about our broad steel bits as both my sister and I fought to get the same word out.

“Mother !”

 

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05.03.18