For a rubber bondage enthusiast the opportunity of becoming a rubber pony girl with a long mane, tail and sexy high heels was a definite turn on. Thinking about the exaltation of dancing on stage as a pony girl she accepted the job.

Time went by, what was arousing became a bore. Suddenly the soft rubber bit buckled across her mouth was no longer enough. No matter how hard anyone pulled on her reins, it was not painful and she could still talk. She headed over to the office to quit.

A horse helmet on display caught her attention. Designed for years of enforced wearing it was terrifying. With glass equine eyes and an ingenious bit gag it locked solidly over head and face. The unfortunate wearer was under the control of a real bit, and helpless to do anything about it. No one in their right mind would ask to wear such a thing in fear of never being released.

What would it be like to be a human horse instead of a vain and silly pony girl? The idea started to ferment until it became an obsession.

They refused at first. "The horse head is a display prop, never intended to fit anyone, we like your work, don't quit. If it fits you can be a horse...for one show." She got her way, she always did.

On show days it only took her an hour to slip into her latex body suit and frilly pony girl gear. She always slept past noon. They woke her at 6 am! "If you want to make a lasting impression you have to wear the body suit that goes with the horse head. You need to practice walking in it before the show."

This rubber was a lot stronger then her usual latex wardrobe. The usual lubricant was not working. The substitution was thicker, and gave off fumes. Her eyes watering they pulled a latex hood over her head. The combination of rough pulling and tugging combined with the sensory deprivation of the eyeless gagged hood was exquisite.

It felt like her bones would break forcing her hand and feet into the built in hoofs. It laced tight like a corset, pulled her waist in, and thrust her breasts out. Pulling the laces tighter forced her legs to bend at a bizarre angle.

Her hood yanked off, a ball gag stuffed in her mouth, she burst into tears. Her hands were useless. Her forelegs terminated in iron-shod hoofs. Trying to stand up she was rudely pushed back down. "Lets play pin the tail on the pony!" Everyone laughed but her.

A steel hoop pushed over her buttocks secured in place with a bar across her waist. The angle of legs now made sense; she could stand like this easily, locked down on four hoofs. A painful metal tube with a long horsetail slid into her clicking shut against the hoop.

"Something's missing?" More laughter. Someone grabbed her hair. "Lets play pin the head on the pony." After shaving her head, they applied a cream that burned her scalp. The reliefs offered by the cool jell turned to panic when she realized it was the lubricant.

The ball gag removed she screamed and shook her head in an attempt to ward off the advancing horse head. A horse head she had insisted on wearing! The pulling and prodding required to suit her up was nothing compared to fitting her head and face.

Long tubes squirming up her nostrils joined a another tube wiggling down her throat, followed with a metal invader forcing its way into her mouth entrapping her tongue. The damn thing was spiked!

Finally, the laces tied shut with a skull-numbing yank and covered with a long mane. A wide band of steel closed around her throat with a sharp click locking everything in place.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror through glass equine eyes a small rubber pony looked back. Her crying sounded like snorts the realization sunk in the outfits designed for her from the beginning. The unbearably tight fit was perfect. Any tighter and they couldn't squeeze her in, any looser would be tolerable. No air gaps. No wrinkles. Her face was that of a horse, glued firmly in place. No one in their right mind would ask to wear such a thing in fear of never being released.

Thinking that things could not possibly get worse she was fitted with a saddle. A petite woman dressed in a rubber-riding outfit climbed on her back flicked her reins urging her forward. Whinnying in pain, she took her first steps as a four-legged animal in absolute obedience to bit and reins. The rattling of a long leash attached to her collar joined the clopping of her hoofs.

That evening she was the star of the show, a show that will never end.