Gromet's PlazaPonyGirl/PetGirl Stories

The Taxidermist & the Rocking Horse

by JAR

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© Copyright 2019 - JAR - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; captive; naked; cage; frame; bond; prepare; inject; glue; pose; torment; piercing; objectify; harness; bitgag; saddle; crate; transport; M/f; revenge; enslave; sextoy; stuck; nc; XX

Chapter 1

My head pounded and I felt cold. I opened my eyes, but everything was dark. At first, I thought that I was still asleep, but as I grew accustomed to the dark, I could see a faint background glow to the room I was in. Further exploration revealed that I was naked, locked in a frame all around my body. On all fours, with my hands and toes flat on the floor and my back in the air and my head held up and pointing forward.

The door opened and someone turned on the light. The light blinded me. “Ah, awake,” said a male voice as I struggled to open my eyes in the glare of the lights and see what was going on. I started shouting at him to let me go and what would happen to him etc if he didn’t. Later I would think what a waste of time and energy.

Why would someone who had drugged and kidnapped me, then locked me naked in a cage, do that, after he had gone so much trouble to get to get me here in the cage/frame in the first place?

He stood in front of the cage that was keeping me on my hands and toes and listened to my triad of abuse. I could see he was about 55 with grey hair. The most disturbing thing was the white coat he wore, it made him look like a doctor.

When I ran out of steam and stopped shouting, he said in a quiet voice “Please don’t do that again. If you want to talk, please do it in a normal voice.” I was struck by the absurdity of his statement. But remained quiet.

“I expect you are wondering what’s happening to you and why you are here etc.”

“Well, first a few ground rules. If you need to talk to me, you will call me Doctor. No shouting, you talk in a normal voice. You will not be gagged, so no swear words and bad language at all. If you break the rules, you will be punished. Do you understand?” In a weak voice, I said “Yes”.

“Now as to why you are here. I turn young women or men into ‘things’ for people who are prepared to pay to have something different than just a normal Slave.”

“In the trade, I am known as the Taxidermist, because the end result of my work is a living statue not unlike a stuffed animal.”

“Now as to you, well, someone has taken a liking to you and I have been commissioned to turn you into something for his use. I have no idea how you came to their attention and don’t really care, but he has chosen you.”

“I have a picture in this envelope that I will give you. Do not destroy it or I will be upset. This will show you what you are to become.”

“I will leave you for a while to get accustomed to the idea. When I return, we will get started. Please don’t start crying or shouting as it will do you no good and make me angry. That is the last thing you want as the procedures I use can be painful or not depending on how I do things.”

“Please remember you have no choice in this matter so the sooner you accept it the easier things will be for you. “ With that, he then handed the envelope to me and left the room.

With trembling fingers, I opened the envelope and sat staring at it. It was a photograph of a woman on a rocking horse stand. If I had to do that it would not be too bad I thought. How could I even think this, it was horrifying. My life, my hopes would be no more. I would need to escape as soon as possible.

(I do not know who took the photograph but will remove if requested - JAR)

A short time later he returned. He moved a metal trolley beside the bench I was on and picked up a syringe. It had a thick needle on it. Next to it was a bottle of some liquid. He picked up both and putting the needle into the fluid, and then he filled the barrel of the syringe.

Turning to me, he held my right knee in one hand the inserted the needle into the back of the knee. I could feel it slide into the joint and he injected some of the fluid. The pain was like a freight train rushing into my brain, and I screamed for all I was worth. I tried to fling my self about to get out of the frame but it was too strong. After a while, I started to sob.

I heard him apologise for the pain, but he did like to hear his subject sing as he called it. He went on to explain the fluid was a bit like super glue and would bond the joint permanently. He did not believe that it would be possible to remove it and the only way the joint would work again would be to insert a new joint like in a knee or hip replacement operation.

Next, he did my hip and ankle. After that all the joints in my foot and toes. Then moving to the other side of the bench he repeated this on my left leg. During this time, as I sobbed and pleaded with him to stop, he continued to talk.

He explained that the fluid penetrated in to the joint and ligaments and forms a very strong bond. It took several hours to set enough to stop movement but over about a day to fully harden.

My arms and hands were done next followed by the spine, from the tail bone up to the base of my skull. For that, he then used a much smaller needle. Then an injection into my throat to paralyse my vocal cords.

He explained that I would be one of the simplest jobs he had ever done as the customer only wanted to immobilise me. Still, 40 grand was a good earner for three days work he joked.

“Well, that’s it for today,” he said. “Tomorrow I will remove the cage and then we can fit the night suit and the stud holes.”

The light went off and I was left in the dark moaning in pain. All of my joints felt as though they were on fire and throbbed. I don’t think I slept at all and was soon cried out, nothing left to fight with, I was so despondent.

When the light came back on I was glad to see an older woman, probably about 50 or 60 enter the room. My hope rose that she would be horrified at what she saw and get help to release me.

“Only me dear just need some measurements for your new harness etc.” What, I thought, how could she not help me. At this point, the Doctor came in said, “Can you help me get the frame off please Dear.” It must be his wife I thought.

Together they soon had the frame removed and I was lifted onto four 6 inch pads one under each hand and foot. As soon as the frame had been removed, I tried to move but my body was ridged as he said it would be.

The woman took her measurements and left. During this time he had moved a machine from a trolley on to the table I was on.

The machine looked like some sort of punch with a long lever to pull down with. What he was going to use it for I had no idea but soon found out.

First, he removed the pad from under my hand and I was left balanced on one hand and two sets of toes, total unable to move. The machine was slid under my hand until my palm was in the centre of the plate, over a hole.

With my hand in place he pulled slowly down on the lever and to my horror a blunt pointed rod about 10mm wide came to rest on the back of my hand. Using a slow but steady pressure on the leaver, he drove into the flesh and between the bones of my fingers. Then out the other side. I could feel the bones move out the way.

Pain flooded my brain as well as the realization that my hand would now have a hole through the palm. I watched as he slid something into the side of the machine below my hand. He then moved the handle up and a tube was drawn up through the hole. I could feel a plate press into the palm of my hand.

He swapped the rod for another die and fitted a sleeve over the end. The leaver was again pulled down and the sleeve forced over the tube protruding from the back of my hand. When the lever was pushed up a neat metal ring was on the back of my hand with a hole all the way through.

I the only thing I could do, as he repeated this on my other hand and then my feet, was sob. The blood had started to clot, so he cleaned up the area, then an antiseptic was painted over the four areas. I was left to contemplate my fate.

He cleaned the machine then put it away. Two pieces of wood about 2-inch square and about 2-foot long were laid on my table. He lifted me up and centred one piece under my hands and then the other under my feet. A large penny washer was then placed over the hole in my hand. A big-headed screw was placed in the hole and screwed into to the wood. “Can’t have you being thrown about and damaged!” he joked.

A crate lid was then slid under the two pieces of wood and then they were fastened to it. Soon after this the woman returned and dressed me with a saddle and head harness with a bit for my mouth. She had some wide cloth straps with Velcro fasting which she wrapped around my calf, thigh, waist and arms muscle. These had wires hanging from them which she plugged into a box the Doctor had fixed to the bottom lid. The box was plugged into a socket and switched on.

All the muscles covered by the cloth straps went ridged as a small electric charge flow into the nerves and the muscles tighten up. When the electricity stopped they relaxed. The Doctor smiled and said, “This will help to keep muscle tone as you can’t move about any more.”

The cord was unplugged and placed by the box between my feet and hands. Sides and a lid were fitted to the base and I was ready for shipment.

It was pitch black in the box and I could feel the sides against my body, so I knew the box was not that big. The dark made it difficult to judge time but the box was being moved. I could hear voices, the box swaying about the sound of a vehicle etc. This all went on for quite a long time, with a few pauses along the way.

After a very long pause I was again moved again, then the box must have been dropped, as I felt a sudden jarring, this was followed by quiet. I was then aware of the sound of the screws to the crate being undone.

The lid was lifted off and the crate flooded with sunlight. It was difficult to see anything as the wall of the crate was only 2 inches from my face. I could hear the person unscrew the back and sides, then they all fell down and I was able to see in front of me.

I was on a gravel drive facing a garage and house. Suddenly I was being tipped to the side and something pushed under the crate bottom then pulled up straight. It turned out to be a wheedle dolly and I was taken into the garage. I was then left there. I could hear the parts of the crates being moved into the garage then the doors were closed.

A voice said, “Well this is your home now!” and a face appeared in front of me. I had a vague relocation that I knew this person but couldn’t place him. He was about 60 and with a pinched face and gray hair.

“You don’t recognise me do you? Well, let me refresh your memory. My name is Mr Harris, Albert Harris. I was your boss three years ago when you and two other girls made a complaint to management about me. You were the ring leader, the other two did not want too but you bullied them.”

“Well as you remember I was told to resign. Too old to get a job in the town I could not work. Then my Mother and an Aunt died. I sold my Mums and my house. Suddenly I had a lot of money and no need to work any more. I moved into my Aunts house and made arrangements for you to join me.”

He picked up the impact driver and removed the screws in my hands and feet. He then positioned the curved runners of the rocking horse next to me and slid me on to it. Once happy with the position he screwed me down to the frame. Wheels were fixed to the runners and he was able to push me into the house.

All the while he had kept talking about what would happen to me. How he would beat me and have sex. I would be his toy to play with. He had never had a family so there was hope I would get pregnant and have children. Maybe many children.

I was devastated that this was to become my way of life. I could not run away or move to escape whatever he intended to do.


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