Claire studied her reflection in the mirror for the third time, carefully tucked away an imaginary strand of dark blonde hair and checked her blood red lipstick yet again. She wanted to project a very specific image and it was most important that the first impression be appropriate. Otherwise, everything would be so much more difficult later. The woman looking back at her from the mirror was tall and imposing, dressed in a white silk blouse, black leather skirt, dark stockings, and black stilleto heels. Her waist length hair was drawn up into a tight bun at the back of her long slim neck, which simply provided further contrast to her milky white skin. All in all her image was that of an imposing business woman with an almost gothic edge, which is exactly the look Claire was shooting for.
Stepping away from the mirror, she smoothed her black leather skirt one last time as she headed through the door. Stepping into the adjacent room, she quietly studied the thirteen women assembled at the far end. They were under strict orders not to speak or communicate with each other in any way under penalty of forfeiting the payment promised to them for the services to be rendered. For $250,000 each, the women had managed to keep their more natural inclinations in check and had milled about aimlessly for the past few hours trying to fight boredom. Snacks and drinks had been provided and they ate and drank as much to have something to do as out of any real hunger or thirst. At Claire’s entrance, they all turned attentively and waited for her to speak.
Claire simply stood with her arms crossed and stared back at them for several long minutes. She noticed each woman independently of the others and recalled how each participant had arrived here today. There was the pert brunette, Victoria, who always smiled no matter the situation. She had been running a cash register when Claire had found her, and the money offered for her participation had been easy enticement. Then there was the languid blonde Christine, who had always considered herself to be surrounded by inferior women. Today her confidence was suffering a severe reality check as she was surrounded by women every bit as confident and beautiful as she was. Claire stood with her arms crossed and mentally ticked through each of the remaining women in the same way, re-acquainting herself with the circumstances that had brought them here.
As she did so, she also recalled how her own participation had been accomplished. She remembered being approached over a year ago by a newly minted attorney on behalf of a third party. He had arrived unannounced at her exclusive dungeon in the better part of the city one afternoon. Initially confused , she’d thought he’d wanted to hire her for the usual, when he stuttered out the proffered contract the mysterious third party was offering. The awkwardness the young man had displayed at their initial meeting had been quite hilarious at the time, and it was not long before she realized that his client was the real brains, and she basically knew nothing else of importance about him. She knew he was a man only because the lawyer had let it slip and referred to his client as "he" during one of their conversations. Yet, she knew even the lawyer did not really know who was paying him, and in an unguarded moment had even offered that all transactions between himself and his client took place over the phone or through various bank officials. Initially suspicious, the financial offer was just too good for her to pass up.
The proposal was simple and straightforward. She was to find thirteen women who met very strict criteria, and talk them into a short term contract that would require very unusual employment conditions. She had been offered more than enough money to allow her to gradually close her dungeon down while she was in the employ of the mysterious stranger. In the intervening twelve months, she had averaged one woman about every three weeks. She would offer a small selection of choices to the mysterious benefactor, who would choose one of the women. Claire would then proceed to focus all of her talents and influence on that particular individual until she had been persuaded to participate.
In some cases the money alone was enough. In other cases it took more effort and Claire tended to play on the various women’s sense of vanity or need for excitement.
The unusual conditions of employment had been the greatest obstacle to overcome. The mysterious "Mr. X" as Claire had come to call him, had been insistent that all of the candidates undergo a complete physical exam by a doctor of his choice. A brief conversation with the doctor had shown him to be as in the dark as the lawyer was as to who was pulling the strings in this operation. The doctor was basically being paid to ensure that all of the women were in good physical health, had strong even teeth, and were completely free from disease or drugs of any kind. They were not even allowed to use vitamins or birth control devices. Claire was proud of the fact that her judgment was such that none of the women she had selected had failed the good doctor’s examination.
Upon successfully completing the physical, the women had all been placed under strict orders to abstain from sexual intercourse until they had completed their terms of employment. This had elicited the greatest resistance from the women. To ensure compliance, they had to report once every two weeks for follow up exams, again with the doctor selected by Claire’s employer. After being assured that they would be paid for each and every doctor’s visit, and paid handsomely, they grudgingly complied and had led a celibate life while awaiting the call from Claire informing them that their employment had begun.
The selected women came from a variety of backgrounds, yet all had some basic facts in common. They were all approximately 5’-8" tall. They all had naturally colored waist length or longer hair. Their breasts were natural with an average "D" cup bust line, and their faces were exquisitely beautiful. A preference was shown for large and expressive eyes. All had good even teeth and all were very physically active. They even wore approximately the same clothing and shoe sizes. There were upper class types who spent their days at the spa or tennis courts, as well as lower income types who worked three jobs and would kill for the chance at the kind of money they were being offered. Claire had talked all of them slowly but surely into the chance at making a tidy amount of money for her six month effort.
There were also other things the women all had in common. All were between the ages of 21 and 29. They were all somewhat estranged from their family and friends for one reason or another. None had husbands or boyfriends, and none had been at their jobs very long. In short, they were perfect victims and could disappear with relatively little notice. Each woman was exceedingly greedy, very strong willed, and extremely self confident.
Additionally, each woman had a dark secret in her past. One which would send her to jail, or worse, death row, if found out. All of them at one time or another had been involved in some activity that had resulted in a major theft or the death of another person. For one reason or another, they each had slipped through loopholes in the legal system and gotten away with their crimes. In some cases they had literally gotten away with murder. Such a detail seemed important to her employer, and Claire assumed it meant that there would be no reservations on the part of her employer regarding what was done with each contestant. Given her chosen profession as a dominatrix, this was a particularly attractive situation for Claire, who took great pride and pleasure in her chosen field of endeavor.
Claire managed to convince each of them to sign a voluminous release form. The important documents had been buried amongst the thick pile of dull legalistic and repetitive forms they were required to sign. These documents made it easy for Claire, or her employer, to take complete control over the women’s finances. It gave power of attorney to liquidate apartment leases, sell vehicles, close out bank accounts, and whatever else was required for someone’s entire life to be erased. Fortunately for Claire, none of the women realized that even as they had arrived at the estate’s secret location, their life’s assets were being boxed up and carted away. Claire couldn’t help but smile at her own deviousness.
On the appointed date, limousines had arrived unannounced to transport the women to the estate. While they all had an idea of the approximate time the terms of their employment was to commence, they never knew the exact date. Claire had done this deliberately to ensure they were kept somewhat off balance. When the limousines had arrived, each woman was expected to drop whatever she was doing and follow the driver back to the vehicle without a word. They were instructed not to bring anything with them, and were only allowed to lock their homes or vehicles up before leaving. They arrived with only the clothes on their backs. Considering one of the women, her name was Justine, was dressed only in lingerie, and another, Lisa, was attired only in the skimpiest of string bikini’s, Claire could happily assume that they were all more or less taken off guard when the limousine had arrived. The embarrassment evident in the expressions of the more scantily clad women was quite pleasant as Claire watched them try to keep their arms crossed and legs together.
Forcing a severe expression, Claire approached the gathered women. "Thank you for coming today. Please be advised that the restrictions on communicating with each other stand. If you are caught talking, passing notes, whispering or even mouthing words to each other, you will be disqualified and escorted out. Do you all understand?"
Every woman nodded vigorously.
"Good, follow me."
Claire turned and without a look back proceeded quickly out of the room. She set a brisk pace, and noted with satisfaction the sound of heels clicking on the tile flooring in the hallway behind her. She walked the length of the corridor to a gray steel nondescript door. Opening it, she entered and walked to the opposite side of the room. The floor of the room was bare concrete with one centrally located floor drain. On one end of the room a laboratory table and comfortable leather chair had been placed. The concrete block walls were completely bare except for a large faced clock behind the desk, and a remote viewing camera was suspended from the ceiling in one corner. Thirteen stools were set into the floor in rows in front of the desk. Each stool was stainless steel with a single steel tube post underneath. A small hook-like projection was mounted at the back edge of each stool and a steel cuff was mounted on both sides of the central shaft of each stool. Ominously, a cardboard box was located on each seat. Taking her place behind the lab table, Claire waved towards the stools.
"Take a seat."
As instructed, each woman selected a stool and squatted down onto it, holding the boxes awkwardly in their laps. They soon realized that the stools were quite cold and very uncomfortable. The heights were not adjustable, and the height of the seat was just slightly less than would be desired, requiring the women to stretch their legs out in front of them just to maintain some comfort level.
"Now, open you boxes."
Each woman opened her box to find a bright red rubber ball gag. The women began to eye Claire even more suspiciously now.
"Before we go any farther, let me show you what the winner will receive." Reaching behind the desk, Claire pulled out a briefcase. Turning it to face her audience, she opened it up to reveal $250,000 in cash. All of the women leaned forward somewhat to see the money. As soon as Claire was convinced their greed had been properly stoked, she closed the briefcase and slid it casually to the corner of the table. Sitting on the front of the desk now with her legs crossed, she addressed her audience once again.
"I want each of you to put the ball gag on now."
Slowly, all of the women did as instructed. By their expressions, Claire knew a few that had been through this before, as well as for whom this was a new experience.
"Now, I want each of you to come to the front of the room one at a time when I call for you. We’ll start with you." She pointed to the first woman sitting on the far left stool on the front row. She was a blonde named Abigail that Claire remembered as being one of the older candidates, and actually one of the first to be selected by her employer. She was a bit intense, and tended to listen more than speak. She was dressed in a simple white tee shirt, jeans, and sandals. Abigail now timidly walked forward, feeling awkward and foolish with the ball gag in her mouth.
"Strip."
Stunned, the blonde looked at Claire in disbelief. Deciding that this was as good a time as any to lay out further ground rules, Claire reinforced her order.
"Strip or you are disqualified. Understand that failure to follow my directions immediately and to the letter will result in you being disqualified for the money. Do you understand?"
Abigail nodded slowly, then staring intently at the floor she began to undress. With each additional piece of clothing that was discarded, Abigail’s complexion grew redder with embarrassment and humiliation. Claire handed her the box her ball gag had been in moments before to place her personal effects in. After several long minutes, the blonde stood nude before everyone in the room, all of her clothing bundled loosely in the box. Her hands covered her breasts and vagina nervously as her cheeks flushed bright red in humiliation. Claire pointedly waited several moments before handing her a white leotard made of a very thin cotton material. She enjoyed the sight of this woman’s nudity almost as much as she enjoyed the feeling of helplessness and humiliation the action engendered. She’d made certain the leotard was at least two sizes too small. By having all of the women practically the same physical dimensions, she had made this an easy part to manipulate. In exchange, she took the box and placed it on the laboratory table.
Abigail hurriedly slipped into the flimsy material, then realized as she pulled the straps up that her generous breasts were being squeezed out through the top of the low cut neck while the thong bottom was wedging itself firmly into the unknown. The shoulder straps themselves tended to cut into her shoulders uncomfortably, but the blonde rationalized that it was better than being naked. The crotch of the thong bit uncomfortably into her vagina, and delicate blonde pubic hairs peeked generously out from either side of the thin strip of material at the front of the crotch. The high cut leg openings exposed her hips up to her ribs and exaggerated the thinness of the material left to cover her pubic area. Her back was completely exposed, with the material simply being strategically placed to cover her most private areas, and then just barely. Not a stitch of the material was not stretched taut by the time Abigail had finished adjusting it. Abigail was then ordered to put her hair up into a ponytail. As she did so, she realized that when she raised her arms up her body was virtually exposed considering how shear the material was. The movements required to put her hair up accentuated her nipples, which thrust determinedly against the thin cotton that barely covered the dark brown areoles. Embarrassingly enough, she found her nipples were hardened which only made them more obvious under the thin cotton. She only hoped that the moistness at her crotch did not become too apparent.
"Turn around and place you hands behind your back."
After doing as she was told, Abigail felt her wrists encased in thick leather cuffs. She jumped slightly when she heard a small click as padlocks secured the restraints.
"Go back to your seat. Next."
Abigail noticed additional discomfort as she walked hurriedly back to the stool and sat down. The crotch of the leotard rubbed against her clitoris with each step in a very uncomfortable fashion. Try as she might as she walked, she could not quite slip her fingers into the thong back and pull it back out to a more comfortable position. She was also acutely aware that the other women were staring at her as she walked, noticing her exposed condition and realizing they were in for the same treatment. A few wore fearful expressions, yet a couple of the women actually acted as if they looked forward to the treatment. As Abigail sat, the thong bottom rose even higher than before, and her vagina was in serious jeopardy of exposure. Her vaginal lips protruded lewdly at the edges of the leotard’s material, which hiked uncomfortably up into her most delicate regions and strained against her clitoris, with the rest of the material below that point buried between the folds of her vagina. Her posture on the seat only exacerbated her discomfort. All of this was topped off by the extremely cold stainless steel stool her skin was forced to be in contact with. As uncomfortable as the seat had been before while fully clothed, it was much worse when the only thing between her sensitive skin and the metal stool was a thin strip of thong material. Dressed as she was, the leotard actually made matters worse by forcing her vaginal lips to distend outwards, pressing even more against the seat, creating a greater area of contact between the most sensitive portions of her body and the cold surface. Pressing her thighs together only made matters worse.
Claire went through the entire group of women with the exact same process, and at the end they were all sitting nervously on their stools in much the same manner wondering what was next. More than one kept glancing at the briefcase as if to gain strength or courage. After all had been properly cuffed, Claire moved down the rows of stools behind each woman, and hooked the wrist restraints into the hook set at the back edge of the stool, thereby locking their wrists in place. A small pin, set quite close to the hook itself, allowed the wrists to be locked into place while simultaneously being completely inaccessible to the women being restrained. This pulled the women into an even more uncomfortable position, requiring them to arch their backs and thrust out their breasts. After doing the entire room this way, Claire made her way one more time down the lines of stools, this time securing their ankles to each side of the stool’s central post using the steel cuffs set into the shaft of the stools. The cuffs were mounted somewhat high, requiring each woman to rest only her toes on the cold concrete floor and spread her legs embarrassingly wide. The vaginal lips of several women actually protruded out far enough that the leotard disappeared between the folds of their sex, leaving only their clitoris hidden from view. The position also forced them to rest their weight on a very small area of their buttocks, namely the posterior portions of their pelvic bones. After only a few minutes, the women knew they were going to be very uncomfortable and began to try to shift their weight somehow. After several more minutes they realized it was completely useless, though the position was so uncomfortable that they continued to twist anyway in a quest for greater comfort. Claire walked back to the front of the room.
"Now we have some fun! I have decided to modify the deal." At this statement, Claire turned and rubbed her hands together deviously. "Instead of each of you getting $250,000, I am going to disqualify you one at a time and the winner will get all of the money. All $3,250,000 of it!" A small groan passed over the women at this latest twist. It was a sound of disappointment mixed with hope, tinged with uncertainty as the reality sank in that it was an all or nothing proposition now.
"The rest of you will get less than nothing. I noticed that each of you had quite a bit to drink before coming in here, so here is you first test. The first one to lose their bladder control is the first to be disqualified. I figure it will take a while, so I’m going to take a nap. By the time I get back from my siesta, we should have a winner - or rather our first loser!"
Laughing at her own sadistic streak, Claire walked out of the room shutting the door behind her. She paused just before exiting to turn the thermostat down, and heard the hum of the air conditioning as the door clicked behind her. Then she walked away to enjoy her nap.
The women immediately began to struggle as the door closed with an audible click. Abigail, who had been the first to be humiliated, was already feeling as if her bladder were full. Shifting softly on her seat, she tried desperately to think of anything but where she was now, as were all of the women in the room. Some kept twisting and moving, others sat very still with their eyes closed and tried to breathe as shallowly as possible, all were in trouble after only a few minutes. The only thing to do was watch the clock which seemed to make the time drag on even longer.
Within minutes they realized they had an additional problem. With the air conditioning running wide open, the room felt as if it were a freezer to the nearly nude women. Their flesh was covered in goose bumps from the cold. This only made their physical discomfort worse.
After an hour, their buttocks were numb except for pain shooting up through their legs. Their arms were stiff and aching, and more than one had already almost lost control of her bladder. Despite the cold, perspiration soaked the thin white leotards until they were almost transparent, and mascara ran freely down soft cheeks. Still, the women held on. Finally after several more hours, Claire walked back into the room looking refreshed. All of the women jumped somewhat at the sound of the door opening.
"So, no losers yet? That’s ok, I can let this drag out for as long as you want." Taking her place again behind the lab table, she sat back with her long legs propped up on the table and stared at each woman. Finally, after another ten minutes, she heard the splatter of water hitting the floor. Standing, she saw a brunette at the center of the room hanging her head in resignation, her shoulders quivering slightly both in relief as well as dejection from being the first loser. A pool of yellow liquid was rapidly spreading around her stool and draining across the concrete to the floor drain. Though she tried, the woman could not lift her feet to get her toes out of the rancid smelling liquid, but still squirmed slightly in a vain attempt anyway.
The tightly stretched leotard was soaked. After losing control of her bodily functions, the woman had simply let it go, realizing that she had lost, had been humiliated for nothing, and had lost the contest in the first stage. All of the other women looked expectantly back and forth between the loser and Claire. She looked depressingly up towards Claire, knowing she had gone through all of her efforts for nothing. A look of abject resignation glowed through her face and tears rolled softly down each cheek. An expectant look was in her eyes as she wondered when Claire would release her to go home.
"Ah, the first loser. Unfortunately for you all, I want a second loser before our little game is over. So, let’s continue." Settling back into her seat, she studied the women again, making a small bet to herself as to which would lose control next. The first loser just sat dumbfounded, quietly awaiting her release, too embarrassed to even look up at the other women as she felt the warm liquid quickly cool leaving her even more uncomfortable than before. Eventually, after another fifteen minutes, Claire noticed a second brunette, struggling even more frantically now. The unfortunate woman twisted and squirmed, throwing her head back and forth as if to regain her sanity, and clinching her thigh muscles tightly and spasmodically. All of the women in the room were struggling, but Claire realized this one was about to lose it. Standing quietly, she walked over to the side of the room next to the girl and just stared at her. The other women realized what was happening and seemed to take a slightly greater degree of control over themselves, quieting their struggles ever so perceptibly. The brunette however, had the opposite reaction. Realizing she was in the spotlight only heightened her panic. Gritting her teeth tightly into the soft rubber of the ball gag, she tried to think of anything but where she was at the moment. Unable to keep her mind off of her predicament, she felt her control slipping away in minute spasms. Thrashing around now, as much as her bonds would allow, her breasts swayed dramatically within the thin material of the leotard, her nipples standing out as if they would literally poke through at any minute. Veins bulged along her neck and forehead as she tensed and clenched her muscles in a mighty struggle for self control. Her struggles caused the cuffs to bite uncomfortably into her wrists and ankles, further increasing her agony. She finally let out a whimper as her bladder released it’s contents. Her white leotard began to stain yellow and the moisture soaked upwards from her crotch. Still, for several seconds she tried to control herself and clinched to try to stop the flow only to realize belatedly that there was no way to stop it now and that she too had lost in the first stage. She sagged in resignation as the yellow fluid gushed down her legs and the stool, and spread across the floor. Claire turned and walked towards the front of the room again, careful not to step in the new puddle slowly creeping across the floor to the drain.
"Finally." Pressing an intercom button on the side of the desk, a buzzer sounded off. Seconds later, four Hispanic dwarves walked in. Several of the women let out a small squeal as all of them tried to turn away so the men could not see their predicaments. Disregarding everyone in the room, they proceeded to the losers Claire pointed them towards. Realizing it was hopeless, both women simply sagged as the hooks were released from wrist cuffs and ankles. They stumbled out of the room one at a time between the two dwarves, their arms securely held by their custodians and their wrist still securely bound behind them. Claire followed them through the door.
In the hours that followed Claire’s departure, all of the women finally lost control. The room stank of urine by the time Claire returned. Claire was well aware of this, and considered it excellent mental conditioning for the contests to come.
"I hope you have all enjoyed the first challenge. I also see that most of you are in dire need of a shower. You will be escorted to your personal rooms one by one. You are to continue to refrain from conversation with each other. You will have one month to rest and prepare for the next contest. In that time, you will have an escort any time you leave your room. You will have your choice of meals prepared and delivered to your room, and you will have regularly scheduled appointments to the gym and masseuse and everything else on the grounds of this estate. But, and this is very important, you are not to talk or attempt to communicate at any time."
Claire abruptly turned and walked back out through the door. The dwarves who had led the first losers out returned shortly and began to release the women one a time and escort them to their rooms.
The rooms were quite posh, and no effort had been spared to make them as comfortable as possible. Every one immediately hit the shower. When they came out of the shower, they found a fresh white leotard awaiting them. They would have no other clothing during their stay, and more than one realized that the scant coverage the leotards provided could be considered more erotic than being completely nude. Still, even the ones who realized this did not dare to go without clothing. The guards, who unlike the dwarves were of a full stature, were always leering at them, and all of the women realized that there was very little keeping these men from using them at will. Apparently there was a powerful incentive provided by their employer that kept them in line.
For the next few weeks all of the women got into a routine and enjoyed the hospitality of the estate, using the gym, lounging by the pool, but always with an escort steps away. A strange silence smothered the estate as people milled about to fight boredom, yet never spoke a word. A few idly wondered about the losers and if they were regretting their loss yet as they went back to their normal lives. Then as promised, they were summoned again with orders to bring their ball gags and wrist restraints.
Standing in the foyer of the mansion, they were instructed to put their ball gags back in. Then their wrists were cuffed together behind their backs. Following that, additional leather cuffs were fastened around their biceps. Small rings were mounted onto the cuffs, and these were used to pin their elbows together painfully until they almost met. A few happened to glance up at the balcony above to notice a dark figure standing and staring at them. With the lighting coming from behind, he was in complete silhouette, with no discernable features save that of a tall muscular build and what was probably an expensive suit. However, most had become so inured to the idea of being stared at over the previous weeks, while wearing nothing but the white leotards, that they simply did not take time to notice any more. Had they done so, or given it a bit more thought, they would have realized that here stood the man who had placed them all in this predicament.
The shadowy figure leaned forward slightly and studied one woman in particular. One of the blondes. It was Abigail, she had been at the high end of the age group, and was personally chosen early on by Claire’s unseen employer. Claire herself did not notice the man above her head, so tied up was she in her duties before her. Dressed completely in black leather, she had become a frighteningly imposing figure in the lives of the remaining contestants. Claire led the small group of eleven women through the front door of the mansion. As they got their first look at their transportation, each woman halted in shock.
The transportation was basically a wagon. Bench seats had been built in on the sides facing each other. Hard metal rimmed wheels were clearly not going to make for a comfortable ride and a short portable step had been placed at the rear of the wagon to facilitate access for the women. But the thing that most shocked the women were the means of pulling it.
Standing at attention at the front of the wagon were two female creatures. All of their body hair had been removed, including the hair on their heads except for eyebrows, eyelashes, and a mohawk that looked like a horse's mane. This had been combed and waxed to stand up stiffly except for a thin lock allowed to dangle frustratingly in the face at nose level. Their arms were pinned together behind their backs forearms to elbows. Their arms were completely encased in a tight fitting leather sleeve.
Their heads were enclosed in a stiff leather bridle cunningly adapted to the human head. Blinders were installed on the bridle, but had thoughtfully been pulled back and buckled in place to give a fuller view of the faces of the unfortunate women. Bits were locked firmly in place between their teeth. Their necks were kept ramrod straight with a stiff leather collar that required the women to keep their heads straight up and back in alignment with their spines. Small round silver name tags dangled from the collars, with their new pony girl names etched deeply into the metal disks. One was named "Cunt", and the other was named "Slut".
Each of their feet was encased in a mid-calf length boot that had been made to look like a hoof. Their nipples, septum, vaginal lips, and clitoris had all been pierced and small gold rings glistened in the morning sun. A small gold bell hung from each nipple ring as well as the clitoris ring. Their breasts had been surgically augmented from their original D cup, and now each woman had an pendulous set of DDD’s swaying in front of her with every labored breath. The posture restricting bonds they were encased within required them to arch their backs in an exaggerated manner, thrusting their now artificial breasts out even more blatantly. Yet, at the same time they were slightly bowed at the hip, and thrust their asses out in the opposite direction. This same posture caused their now enormous breasts to hang slightly away from their torsos, swaying with each breath. When they began to walk, their breasts would sway back and forth rhythmically, jostling against each other, and by the time they reached their destinations their breasts would be incredibly sore.
More shocking still, the waist length hair removed from their heads had been fashioned into some sort of pony tail, the plug of which disappeared into the crack of each woman’s buttocks, and had no other visible means of support. The tails themselves hung to their knees. A small brand had been applied to the buttock cheek of each woman, and was a simple circle with the entwined letters "PG" in the center. It dawned on all of the contestants then that this was what Claire had meant by winning "less than nothing". To lose meant to be turned into a beast of burden!
Both women stood motionless in the morning sun, slight shivers visible occasionally in their legs. Though there was a morning chill in the air, their bodies glistened with sweat already, almost as if they were covered in a sheen of oil, both from their exertions in pulling the wagon this far as well as nervousness about the days coming events. Red whelps marked their buttocks, back, and outside curvature of their breasts from not having pulled the wagon sufficiently fast this morning already. With the wagon loaded they fully expected worse treatment. Occasionally one of them would roll her eyes to glance frightfully at the other women, then at Claire before resuming their stare straight ahead. But even this furtive movement was restricted to their eyes only, their heads remained fixed looking forward. Even if they had wanted to try to move, their legs were hobbled at the knees and ankles, thereby eliminating the slightest hint of freedom of movement.
Both pony girls had been through a lot in the previous month. As their erstwhile competitors had lounged by the pool, they had been in the process of being "transformed" and trained to their new status in life. Being forced to now pull the remaining competitors was simply another nail in the coffin that contained the last shreds of their self-esteem, and reinforced vividly that they no longer had any say in their future.
Feeling that the remaining women were suitably impressed by the gravity of the competition, Claire ordered the remaining eleven contestants to take seats in the wagon. Slowly, the wagon began to sag as one by one the women complied. With each new passenger, the sense of dread the pony girls experienced got deeper. As the last passengers boarded the wagon, attendants removed the hobbles from the pony girls. When all were loaded, Claire took her place at the front and cracked the whip against the right buttocks of the pony girls. Dutifully, they began to strain in their harnesses, and with a little more "encouragement", the heavy wagon began to move forward. The harness arrangement was cunningly devised so that a horizontal bar extended from the wagon’s fork to a point between each pony girl’s shoulders, where it was connected to the harness that bound their arms behind their backs. This left the entirety of their bodies exposed and unsupported, and exerted additional strain on the women’s backs as they pulled. Fortunately, the roads of the estate were built with this purpose in mind and were designed to be absolutely flat and even. The estate was situated on a very level location, so this had not required much effort on the part of the road builders. Still, Claire noted with satisfaction how the already tight leather harnesses dug deeper into the flesh of the pony girls. They were obviously already giving their best effort, so it was with a certain sense of maliciousness that Claire cracked the whip against the sweat streaked buttock of the right hand pony girl. It gave a satisfying crack as the pony girl involuntarily flinched away from the sting, only to quickly resume her pace before she received another snap of the whip.
Her heavy pony tail swung in an exaggerated fashion from side to side with each stride. Claire knew how heavy this artificial tail was, and knew exactly how much discomfort it caused in the poor wretch as it swung heavily back and forth. The thought alone was enough to move Claire to crack the whip yet again, this time against the right side of the girl’s rib cage and right breast. The pony girl gave an animalistic squeal and pulled even harder, the discomfort of her behind now completely forgotten as her right breast throbbed in pain.
Even after a month, neither girl was yet used to the tail plug and the sensation it generated in their derrieres as they strained to pull the wagon. They felt it’s lubricated length shift within them with each step, and felt their rectums stretch and strain to accept this completely unnatural intruder. Fortunately, after getting the load moving, it required little exertion to maintain movement and it was not long before a decent walking pace was achieved and Claire allowed the whip to rest the remainder of the ride in a socket on the side of the drivers bench. Both pony girls kept the pace up, fearful of showing the slightest hint of slowing down, knowing that to do so would invite further "encouragement" from Claire and the whip. Mindlessly they walked in the direction the reins pulled, no idea how far they were to go nor how long the trip would last. Eventually, they felt the reins tug them to a halt in front of an open pasture.
A large hole had been dug knee deep and filled with mud. A tug-of-war rope lay across the open pit and a hook was fastened to each end of the rope. The by-now familiar abbreviated attendants were waiting, broad leather straps in hand.
Claire directed the women to dismount. Slowly, each woman made the small leap to the ground, wincing as their feet hit the pavers of the road. No steps were provided, and getting back onto the wagon was going to be difficult. But all of the women knew that at least two of the seats were going to be empty on the return trip and all resolved that it would not be themselves pulling the wagon next.
Next, Claire had the attendants pull the tops of the leotards down to the first two women’s waists. Ordered to walk forward to a rough wooden framed pillory, the women were instructed to step into the ankle straps, bend forward at the waist, legs straight, and lay their necks into the U-shaped fitting on the pillory. As they did so, a short leather strap was buckled in place across the back of their necks, then each ankle was secured.
The attendants looped thin leather straps around the now hanging breasts of each woman. A steel ring shone brightly in the morning sun nestled between the women’s breasts. As the attendant was cinching it tight, one of the women tried to pull up and away only to realize that it was useless. When released from the pillory, their breasts swelled from the reduced circulation caused by the leather straps. They were then led to the mud pit. The hook on each end of the cable was slipped into the steel ring on the leather strapping around their breasts.
"This ought to be simple enough for any of you to understand. This is by process of elimination. We are going to have a little tug of war. The winner gets to be released from the leather harness, the loser remains in her harness and has to stand to one side until she has another chance to win." Claire noticed the slight shudder that went through several of the women. "Let’s begin."
The two women, one blonde and the other a red head, began to tug furiously at first only to both relent at the same time as the pain shot through their bodies. Then, steeling themselves against the ordeal, they began to pull again, their breasts swelling even more from the strain, and standing out from their torsos as the rope pulled tighter and tighter. Light blue veins were visible just under the skin of their breasts as the circulation was further restricted. The flesh in contact with the leather strapping began to show creases and turn bluish. After five minutes, the blonde began to relent. In agony, she kept glancing over at the pony girls now hobbled at the wagon. Still she endured the pain, the red head was also in agony, but simply kept her eyes shut and her feet locked in place, straining to pull her opponent into the mud.
Finally, the blonde could not stand it no more. Her mind screamed to keep fighting, but her body would not obey as she slipped first one foot, then the other, into the mud pit. Immediately Claire called a halt to the proceedings. The blonde was forced to stand to one side, her feet muddy to the knees and her bound breasts turning a bright red under the sun, as the red head was released from her breast bondage and allowed to stand in the shade. This process continued for several more hours, with the blonde eventually having to endure the torment again. This time she won. Finally, there were three women left. A brunette was already tagged as one of the losers and stood shackled to a stake out in the sun to ensure she did not try to run away or escape no matter how much she wailed or tugged at the rope. Abigail, who had been the first humiliated by being forced to strip in front of everybody, and one of the red heads were the two finalists. Abigail in a moment of inspiration managed to snatch the red head face first into the mud pit before she had managed to get ready. Coming up spitting and sputtering, her gagged protestations of unfairness were unheard as Claire instructed the women to return to the wagon. The red head tried vainly to follow only to be pulled back by her muddy red hair by one of the attendants. The brunette by now simply stared numbly down at her purple breasts and wondered numbly how long she would continue to have to wear the painful harness.
Each of the remaining contenders had to lay flat on the back of the wagon, pressing their upper torso and now tender breasts into the floor boards in order to heave their legs up onto the wagon. Their bound arms useless behind them. Finally, all of them were seated in the wagon and could hear the two latest losers shrilly screaming around their gags as the wagon pulled away, leaving them to the attendants tender mercies. Unfortunately for them, the attendants had absolutely no mercy at all. The pony girls pulling the wagon would not have looked back even if they had been able to. They seemed eager in fact to get away from the area as quickly as possible.
The dwarves, opportunistic as always, immediately had the two losers on the ground. This was an easy matter considering their ankles were hobbled together. A short length of rope was attached between their ankles, then passed up the front of their body and looped around the back of their neck. Moments later the rope was pulled tight, drawing their legs up to the front and of necessity spreading their legs wide. Working together, the dwarves then rolled the protesting women, their breasts still bound tightly, onto their faces and knees with their asses in the air. What was left of their leotards were ripped away from their muddy bodies unceremoniously as the dwarves began to rape them one at a time. It would be several hours before they would bother to let the unfortunate women up and walk them back to the stables, where even greater misfortune awaited them.
Arriving back at the mansion, each woman was immediately released from her bonds and escorted to a masseuse. Soothing balm was applied to red strap marks on their breasts. Medication was given to beat down the pain. Warm baths were drawn and female attendants meticulously cared for the now bruised and sore women in their charge. As always, the attendants were nearby watching the whole proceedings.
The two pony girls, their legs quivering from the exertions of pulling the wagon, were allowed to stand for several minutes unattended. Even if they had considered escape, there was no way for them to extricate themselves from their bonds. They had neither the use of their hands, their feet, or even their mouths as each was carefully bound or gagged in a manner that prevented their use. Finally, the attendants drove them back to the stables where they were unhitched and washed down. Afterwards, a soothing balm was applied to their breasts, with the pony girls moaning unashamedly in relief as the Hispanic dwarves rubbed the smelly ointment thoroughly into the skin of their breasts. This was followed by a short trip to their respective stalls where they were left alone and undisturbed for the first time in weeks.
On the other side of the stables, the two losers were pulled into stalls for somewhat rougher treatment. First, the leather straps were finally removed, causing blood to rush painfully back into their tender breasts. Their ball gags were replaced by a different type of gag, one with a large ring that required them to keep their mouths open continuously to an absolutely painful degree. Then, laughing at their newest charges facial expressions, the attendants began to fuck each of them. In the outside world the dwarves would never have even been noticed by such women as they had in their charge now, and they thoroughly enjoyed the position of power they held over the helpless women. They would get no sleep that night, as each attendant in the stable took turns further degrading the women in various creative and cruel ways, using the body orifice of their choice, until the women were practically in shock and only minimally coherent. The first two pony girls sat quietly in their stalls, hoping not to be noticed at all until the next morning, perfectly content in the knowledge that the sadistic stable boys had new toys to play with, and that someone else had to share their misfortune now.
The next few weeks went quickly as all of the remaining women began to exercise vigorously. A few tried to formulate a plan to escape, only to realize that it was impossible. High walls completely surrounded the property, and no sign of life was evident except for themselves and the ever present attendants. Finally, they were summoned once again.
As before, the remaining nine women gathered at the foyer of the mansion, their white leotards now becoming thread bare and tattered from the constant wearing and washing cycles. The elastic had long ago given way, and the shoulder straps had a tendency to slip down constantly even as the material shrank with each washing. Without razors, they were beginning to notice each other's body hair, which the bleached white leotards only exaggerated through contrast. Their arms were once again locked at the wrists behind their backs, but their elbows were not secured this time. Stepping through the door, they saw the wagon was now pulled by four pony girls, the newest additions being made up to look identical to the first two pony girls. Even their hair was dyed the same color. The newest pony girls had the positions closest to the wagon, and their buttocks were already well marked with bright red whip marks. The two lead pony girls stood smugly, realizing that Claire’s attentions were now focused on the latest additions to the wagon team.
Once again the women stepped up into the wagon and took their seats. Once again the whip cracked and the pony girls pulled away from the steps of the mansion. A single figure studied the spectacle from an upper window, slowly puffing on a cigar as they disappeared around a bend in the road.
This time, the ride went past the mud pit. The former red head gave a visible shudder in her harness as she glanced furtively at the site of her defeat. The defeat that had placed her in this position. Shaking her head as much as she was able to in frustration, she felt the whip crack against her nude buttocks and pulled more vigorously, feeling the long pony tail that used to be her hair swish softly back and forth against the back of her thighs.
An hour later, they arrived at a clearing. Arranged in a circle were nine racks of an unknown intent, but each woman could clearly see the huge dildo positioned in the middle of each machine. Claire once again instructed the women to dismount the wagon, then the attendants positioned each woman in one of the racks.
The pony girls were hobbled in the open, unable to shoo away the flies already swarming around them. They were limited to closing their eyes and standing very still, the sweat from their exertions running freely down their bodies, and a slight lather from the harness was allowed to begin drying on their skin. Occasionally one would shake her head in frustration as a particularly large fly would crawl across her bosom or face. Though there was ample shade only paces away, Claire felt it worthwhile to further their mental conditioning by making them stand in the open. Livestock after all had no say in their own lives.
The attendants seemed to be looking forward to this contest as each woman took her place on one of the racks. First, each woman’s legs were spread wide and secured at the ankles, directly over the dildo. Next, each arm was released and then restrained by wrist cuffs set high on the rack, causing the occupant of that particular rack to assume a spread eagle position directly over the dildo. This of course pulled the worn leotards even tighter up into their pussies. The attendants pulled the leotards rudely to one side as the very tip of the dildo was inserted into them. Once released, the leotard snapped viciously up to one side of their vagina, causing additional discomfort as their up-stretched arms pulled the worn out leotards even more snugly against their now stuffed cunts. Once all of the women were in place, Claire explained.
"You see, you are going to be forced to hold the weight of the rack above you. If you weaken and let the weight lower, you will find yourself being impaled by the dildo. Once you lower the rack, it is a one way travel and cannot be raised back up and you will have to enjoy the presence of the dildo in your cunt at that level of penetration until the contest is over. The one who has the most dildo up her cunt is the winner, or rather loser in this case. And since we have to have a balanced team for the wagon, we will also take the runner up back to the stables. Let’s begin!"
The attendants began activating levers on each of the racks, and instantly the women felt the weight bearing down on their upraised hands and arms. Most of them ended up with at least two inches of dildo already penetrating their cunts by the time they got control over the device and stabilized it. Then the wait started. As they stood in the afternoon sun, they all began to sweat profusely. Claire herself sat in the shade and watched the flies, gnats and mosquitoes buzz around and crawl over the taut and sweating bodies of the hapless women. With their arms thus positioned, they could do nothing but allow the annoying insects to alight wherever they wanted, and more than one almost went crazy as a bug of one sort or another crawled across her exposed body. They would twitch or twist, their breasts heaving in the afternoon heat as they tried to twist away from the latest insect to find a resting place in a body crevice.
Finally, each woman began to weaken. The racks slowly descended and the dildos gradually rose. Each woman was in agony as the devices penetrated their bodies. Claire had made sure to design these machines with the largest dildo she could find, and now all of the women were finding their vaginas being stretched beyond anything they had ever endured before. Claire simply chuckled to herself as she watched each woman try to twist her hips around, at first to avoid the already intruding dildo, then later in an effort to find some way of accommodating its persistent progress.
After several hours, one tall oriental woman began to shake her head and shriek furiously around the ball gag. Walking over to inspect, Claire saw that the woman had taken almost the entire dildo, and had to be ferocious agony. As the tears streamed down the unfortunate woman’s face, Claire smiled evilly and walked away. Eventually, a blonde began to make strangled cries around her gag. Finally realizing that her fun was over, Claire had the rest of the women removed from the racks one by one, re-bound, and escorted back to the wagon. The climb back into the wagon only exacerbated the pain each woman felt. There were only seven women now as the pony girls pulled the wagon out of sight of the clearing. The screams of the latest losers, still bound to the racks echoed through the silent trees and settled uncomfortably into the ears of the remaining contestants. As the wagon rounded the bend and the racks were lost from view, the contestants did not see the dwarfs lining up behind the women, who were still screaming on the rack. Each one was looking forward to his turn at anally raping the unfortunate losers. The fact that they had not brought any lubricant was apparently not as important to the dwarves as it would have been to the losers. Moments later the leotards were ripped from their straining bodies as the dwarves fun began.
The next few weeks went by quickly. Once again the summons arrived, and once again the women gathered nervously in the foyer. They meekly held their hands behind their backs, only to be instructed to place them behind their heads instead. Cuffing their wrists together behind their necks, a thin leather strap was pulled down between their buttocks, then up the front of their crotch before being pulled tight around their waist as a belt. Pulling it even more tightly, the thin leather strap bit into their vaginas such that any movement was a painful rubbing sensation against their clitoris. They found that they had to keep their arms back as far as possible in order to limit the amount of leather strap burrowing into their cunt. After only a few minutes, their arms and backs were already on fire from the strain. Gags were placed in their mouths almost as an afterthought. So accustomed had the women become by this time to such bizarre treatment, they did not even think of it as a strange procedure anymore.
Stepping out onto the front steps of the manor, the wagon awaited, with six pony girls standing at attention. Only the last two seemed to have the obvious red "encouragement" marks of the whip. All of their body hair that had been present the last time these girls had been seen was gone, replaced with a smooth hairless skin. Even the fine hairs of the back, arms or belly had been removed. They were completely hairless except for where Claire wanted them to have hair, which is to say the strange mane on their heads, their eyelashes and eyebrows, and the artificial tail hanging from their buttocks.
The women stepped up into the wagon. This time it moved much more easily as there were almost as many women pulling it as were sitting in it. Across the estate the wagon moved towards some unknown destination. With each jostle of the wagon, the women winced and bit into their gags harder as the strap worked farther and farther up into the most tender area of their sex. When the wagon drew to a halt, they were at a large circular racing field. Starting gates were built in just as a horse racing field would have, only these were much smaller and obviously for a creature of the two legged variety. Each woman had to jump down from the wagon, and more than one winced as the leather strap bit further into tender areas. Their bare feet dug into the hardened ground, reminding them of their practically nude state. Claire had all of the women choose a stall and enter it. She then walked along behind and made sure that the gates were securely closed.
"I don’t think I need to even explain this one." Claire took her position at a special booth alongside the track. Moments later, she held a small starter pistol in the air and fired a round. Instantly, the gates opened and the more alert contestants bounded out of the starting gate to an early lead. Around the track they ran, jostling each other for position. Their breasts strained energetically against their leotards, and bounced uncontrollably as they ran. Occasionally, one would trip and fall into the soft dirt of the track only to come up sputtering and scrambling, desperate to catch up to the crowded field of runners. For one mile the contestants ran flat out, giving it everything they had. By the time they neared the finish line, they were all barely walking they were so tired. As the final 100 yards were traversed, the group of women realized they were in the final stretch and all began to pick up the pace. Try as they might, several of the women fell behind farther and farther. The women in the lead managed to keep up the pace however, studiously ignoring the pain caused by the rough leather strap rubbing their cunts raw. As the first contestant, a blonde, crossed the finish line, she fell to her face content that she had won - or more importantly, had not lost. Rolling onto her side, she hyperventilated as the remaining women crossed the finish line. As the last of the women stumbled across the line, they all milled around. Claire had not moved from her box. Finally all of them stood attentively looking back and forth between Claire and the two women who had crossed the finish line last.
Finally, Claire rose from her seat and leaned out over the small group. "I didn’t say the race was finished yet! Why are you stopping? You still have 17 laps to go! Now move it before I have the attendants supply some "encouragement!"
At this last statement, all of the women began to run again. They were no longer able to keep the pace they had before, and a few even stopped and doubled over occasionally to allow the pain in their crotch or side to subside before continuing. The rough leather strap became moist from their perspiration, and rolled into more of a cord thin rope shape than a broad strap. This allowed it to press even more painfully into their cunts. Most interesting of all however was the fact that the blonde who had won the first race now lagged behind everyone. It was as if finding out that she had not really won had taken all of the energy out of her - that and the fact that she had put absolutely everything she had into the first lap and had nothing left.
As the final laps were counted down, the women were straggling out over the course. A few who were in the lead comfortably now walked across the finish line. Those in the middle of the field of runners struggled and limped across. Those at the back of the field now struggled desperately to finish. Occasionally, they would fall flat on their faces only to rest a moment, struggle to their feet and continue towards the finish line. Their race was not with the clock or even each other, but against whomever at the time seemed to be the next slowest. As a runner would find herself in last place, she would put on a burst of energy just enough to move up a few spaces, and so the position would change hands frequently.
Finally, Claire herself stood to watch the final contestants cross the line. Not surprisingly, one of the contestants was the blonde who had initially thought she had won. The other was a brunette. They collapsed after crossing the finish line only to be carried away bodily by the grinning attendants. So exhausted were they that not even a moan of protest was heard. The five remaining women gratefully climbed back into the wagon knowing that they had avoided the harness yet again. Had the losers known what was in store, they would have found additional energy to resist, even though it was useless.
The pony girls pulling the wagon grimly started at the sound of the whip cracking on the ribs of the rear most pony girls, then began to strain at the harnesses until the wagon was moving at an acceptably brisk pace. Their tails swished in unison as they matched pace with each other, much as their breasts swayed in unison as well. Claire, from her vantage point on the wagon seat delighted in occasionally flicking the whip against the breast of one of the women as it swung ponderously to one side of her body. This she followed up with a crack against the buttocks of the pony girl beside her. Both were pulling strenuously already, but Claire simply enjoyed the feeling of power she had in being able to inflict pain at will on these stupid cunts. She especially enjoyed how the leather harnesses bit into the women’s flesh as they pulled. She made her mind up then that she was really going to enjoy herself when she got back to the estate, and she had just the victim in mind too. As the gates of the mansion swung open to receive them, Claire decided to give it another month before putting her plan into motion.