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Fetish model in bondage cuffs spreadeagle. Another padlock fastened it to the ring at the back of the collar about Karen's neck. These had almost become part of her when she'd been a ponygirl. Just as then, her nipple rings, hobble and front collar ring soon bore bells.

There was another pair she'd worn as earrings too, but her helmet wouldn't allow for placing them there; instead, her mistress locked them on either side of her painful bit. Gladly, Karen would swap it for even the punishment bit Amber had used to teach her to obey the rein commands. Just barely, her girl could and stamped her right foot to acknowledge. Without her stereophonic hearing and greatly diminished sense, it was impossible for her to judge the direction from which anything she heard had come.

She didn't hear her mistress walk away either. It was thirty minutes of near silence, but for the tinkling of her bells, before the sounds of Judy's voice reached her brain. During that time, the mistress had searched for what she considered a perfect spot; the middle of a large grassy knoll, close to the road, but screened from full view by the tall cattails on the edge of the small stream that ran downhill across Karen's circle of operations.

Judy thought that the noise of traffic, especial the louder trucks on the highway, might make her slave reluctant to venture there. The device was easily accessible, that is for anyone not quite as restricted as the bound girl fifty yards away. She could have made this far more difficult, increasing the impossibility of the assignment, by setting the beeper in the thicket of briars she'd seen or even just in a clump of trees, but what would be the point of that?

Karen was going to rack up demerits at a staggering rate once she'd begun. It was Judy's guess the total might be easily over two thousand, after all, even if she managed to maintain her pristine appearance, failure alone would be earn more than sixty-two percent of that and failure was as safe a bet as the sun rising the following morning.

Relishing the view of just how helpless Karen appeared; Judy took many pictures. But for the lack of arms, the complex steel between her widely parted red lips and the shackled black boots; her submissive slave could be waiting to attend a late spring garden party. At nine thirty-three that morning she ordered her to get started then walked back towards the house; needing another media disk for her digital camera and having forgotten she'd left the others in her car.

Though she'd thought long and hard about how to conduct a search, since being told of this ordeal initially, Karen was no closer to having any real plan. As Hiliary had not written of one, she'd not expected the homing device; that was a very welcome bonus.

The one hundred twenty feet of strong aircraft cable that connected her collar to the tether point defined the circle she was confined to. Somewhere within those forty-five thousand square feet was a little box of only eight square inches beeping once a minute. She was just twenty yards inside the fence, near the end of her rein, but then didn't know it. Judy had left her alone for half an hour; enough time to have walked nearly a mile away and returned.

Though her mistress would tease and kid a lot, one thing in their relationship was secure - trust. Never could Karen have allowed her mistress to do all to her that she did without trusting that no real harm would befall her.

Even thought she was only five feet tall, no one in their scene would dare to stand up to the blonde on matters relating to her property and Karen was that; property. When Judy had stated her tether was one hundred twenty feet long, it was. The challenge was not entirely impossible, her mistress, with the beeper, had provided her with a winnable task; albeit, it was highly unlikely she could possibly succeed. Karen thought of these things and more as she felt her way, walking slowly with measured steps.

She'd no choice about them being measured - with two chains, just a foot in length, between the steel on her ankles, her stride was limited to about ten inches. Karen had no sense of direction, but moved without hesitation. She wished she were doing this in her hooves, those she'd worn as a ponygirl, at least the steel shoes nailed to their bottoms would have provided traction on the turf.

With her ponygirl harness, checkreins holding her head erect and the fleece shadow roll before her eyes and large blinders beside them, she couldn't see the path ahead much more then than she could see at that time.

Judy had greatly misjudged; in planning this scene based on the script Hiliary had written, the mistress was ignorant of the changes in Karen that two summers of intense ponygirl training had created. Never had she discussed these matters with Karen or even Karen's trainers; she had just relished the pleasures of having the ponygirl unhesitantly obey and perform excellently while pulling the sulky and responding to the reins and whip which Amber, Samantha's sixteen year old daughter, had taught her.

Karen, though totally without any clue as to how she could possibly succeed, did not resign herself to losing either. Amber had taught her this too. Thinking all she'd done was beat her for punishment, the teenager had done more, much more. She had taught the ponygirl in her care to have the will to try. Yes, Karen once enjoyed good whippings at parties, but the girl, in her ignorance, had taught her what a punishment whipping actually meant.

The girl had not intended to teach more than for the ponygirl to obey, but had instilled a will in Karen that had never before been there - a will to beat the young, ignorant bitch at her own game. Picking her steps, occasionally slipping, Karen moved forward.

Almost everything that had been put on her bothered her. The chastity belt was a given. When she had her penis pierced for the cross pins shortly after moving in with Judy, her mistress made it clear that male sexual gratification was not part of their arrangement, but would be denied as long as Karen remained her slave girl.

The corset compressed her torso more than any other she'd worn, but so had Samantha's concept of a proper ponygirl corset harness. Despite the enforced constricted breathing, Karen had been trained to pull Amber's sulky for a mile in less than five minutes on a racetrack.

Amber never expected the ponygirl to win that race against a ponyboy who'd been raced for more than seven years; rather she had looked forward to administering another good whipping instead. Karen had endured that; she could endure her present lacing. It had been worse. Where could it be? She had no clear idea of what pasture she'd been put in, just a feeling; a feeling she been here before, but Bill and Samantha owned a several thousand acres.

The gag, it strained her jaws. Hiliary's Slave Solution was something to be avoided at all costs, but Karen was never asked to pay that price. Nothing could be done to avoid it. The solution was liberally used as a garnish and flavoring for many of the things in her diet, even as her standard salad dressing. A fallen branch tripped the bound slave girl. She hit hard, but was unhurt.

Judy had jumped up upon seeing this, but sat down on the log again when it was clear that Karen was unhurt, after she had sat up and remained in place for a few moments until she recovered. Falling and tripping were going to be common throughout the challenge and Judy questioned if the heels she'd selected were too high or the hobble too short, but dismissed those concerns by the end of the day.

Karen hurt, but not so much from the tumbles and spills. Her corset was tighter than ever before, crushing her ribs and training to have a stem waist had only begun the previous Christmas. The large plug inserted up her ass was a bother too, though something she was well accustomed to. Judy liked her girl plugged and did so frequently. When she was in ponygirl mode, a similar plug anchored her long, full tail and was only removed for a brief time each morning when the young trainer administered a three-liter enema, followed by a rinse of equal volume.

She wanted to rub her calves and scratch itches away in numerous places. Long periods in stringent bondage had taught her that was not to be and she just had to endure those annoyances. The absolute worst of what her mistress had decided was appropriate bondage was the gag stuffing her mouth and straining her aching jaws. Unlike a large rubber ball gag or even some of the fat penis gags, which Judy was fond of, there was no give at all in the strong steel jaws of the jack; Karen couldn't move her mouth or tongue.

Unknowingly, Karen entered a cluster of holly trees in early afternoon. Her veil had protected her face somewhat when it snagged on the pointed leaf - before turning about, one to her loose sleeves was torn too.

By mid afternoon Karen needed to rest and recover her breath. She was in excellent physical condition, Samantha, but mostly Amber had seen to that, starting two years before and Judy's strict regimen kept her that way. She possessed a lot of endurance and though very shapely, her legs were strong; she had to been taught to walk gracefully on her toes wearing ballet boots and making that seem effortless after learning to prance, run and pull wearing her hooves.

Sitting was no fun, she knew that the plug would plunge in further and would expand by half again, but she had to. With her bells still for the first time, she heard a big diesel when the trucker geared down to climb the long hill bordering the farm. Momentarily, a wave of panic washed over her, but had to be swept aside; panic would cause her to lose control.

Karen had to giggle at that thought, she controlled very little of the situation she was in; her mistress effectively held the reins.

Musing about all of this, her kinky mind became aroused. Contrary to all the pains and discomforts the ordeal inflicted, the slave girl had feelings of enjoyment and those created stirrings in her steel panties. Though fondling her large breasts and playing with her ringed nipples would raise her very high, she'd not climaxed in the three years since the pins through her penis had been welded to stay there forever. The sounds of another big rig convinced the blind slave that she'd had enough rest and it was past time to move from that spot and try to avoid it.

It and her ringing bells masked the hourly beep from the black box that was less than ten feet from the spot where Karen had sat. Judy glanced at her watch, she was getting hungry and her friends would be at the house by then.

She'd said she'd join them for supper by six. Looking down slope, Judy saw her girl was still walking slowly through another grassy area. She'd be all right until the mistress returned an hour and a half later. There would still be daylight for more than an hour after that.

Judy walked back towards the house. Karen was hungry too; she'd had no food since breakfast. She wanted water much more. The strong taste of slave solution was all that she was going to have until her mistress decided otherwise.

Once she'd returned to the pasture, it took Judy almost fifteen minutes to locate Karen. The wind had risen and the sounds of the ringing bells were being carried from her.

Karen had wandered into waist high reeds that bordered the small stream again near the top of the small hill where she'd rested earlier. With absolutely no sense of where she was in the pasture or any sense of direction, her search had turned her to walk that way after the tethering cable had again drawn tight on her collar.

The mud there was hard, but very slippery and her boots offered no traction. Placing her foot for the next step set it on a slope and the result was inevitable. Karen lost her precarious balance when her left foot slipped out from under her, jerked her ankle chains hard enough to pull her right leg in the same direction and her body followed. As she fell to the ground and slid into the cold water, her hat was pulled off to remain on a nearby bush.

Starting to cry at her helpless situation and with her asshole hurting after the impact had suddenly rammed the plug in hard, she struggled to get her bound legs underneath and stand in the stream. Though the water was only six inches deep, it was enough to completely soak her boots, large petticoat and dress nearly to her waist.

It took several attempts before she was finally standing again. Near the edge, her boots skidded out from underneath on the slight incline. This time she fell forward onto the muddy stream bank.

With no possible way to break the fall, she took the impact squarely on her large breasts and slipped partially back into the water. Her breasts hurt terribly.

Judy had began jogging to help; her instincts to protect her property over rode her dominant nature and she questioned the wisdom of this entire adventure. Rivers of black mascara ran from the slave's eyes, one long lash floated away in the stream, another dangled tenuously. Despite everything, Karen managed the strength to hurry, if taking less than ten-inch steps can be described as hurrying, away from the water.

Bells ringing loudly and tugging relentlessly on her very sore nipples, she passed less than seven feet from her owner. Judy cancelled her thoughts of calling a halt to this test.

After retrieving the lost hat, she followed at a safe distance until the muddy and dishevel slave girl stopped and sank to her knees then sat on her heavy, waterlogged diapers. The sun's last rays had turned the sky red as it dipped below the horizon.

It was a beautiful sunset that the blind slave girl couldn't see. Not having any concept of time, Karen needed to calm down. She lay back on the grass, unable to stop the tears streaming down her face. Turning on her side, the exhausted slave girl fell asleep, unable to continue.

Judy had set the timer on the backpack enema bag to open the valve shortly after sunset. With Karen lying flat, rather than standing, nothing flowed into her; gravity had no effect. It was about ten o'clock when the ingredients of large suppository began to have their intended effect. The beginning cramps caused the sleeping girl to stir then come fully awake.

Administered daily, enemas were part of her routine, but she never enjoyed them. What was there to enjoy about the strong, uncontrollable churning occurring under her tight corsets?

Knowing that standing when the waves swept through her belly was better than sitting or lying down; she struggled to her feet in an attempt to deal with what was happening.

The most important thing though is collecting all the heels you can find on the level. These small bonuses are vital for completing the trial with splendor. The thing is that the podium gets higher and higher as you move through the game. And, consequently, your heels must keep up. These little shoes you pick up while passing another location can then be combined and turned into one giant pair of shoes with colossal heels that will make you literally sky-high.

And what can be more delightful for a girl who dreams of being a fashion queen than walking in the clouds! In general, High Heels is a great game with simple but vibrant graphics, intuitive control, not too challenging, but also not so easy levels and even some accessorizing.

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