The fifteen newly-hired women stood in the waiting room, eagerly anticipating my arrival when I entered, smartly dressed in business suits and ready to go to work.

"Good morning, everyone. Now, if you'll just follow me, we'll go into the next room for orientation."

They hurried along behind me into a small lecture hall that held a few dozen soft leather chairs arranged in rows facing a lectern and video screen.

"Have a seat," I said. "There are helmets on your seats. Please put them on, make yourselves comfortable, and we'll start the orientation."

They set down their briefcases, reached down to get their helmets, and settled in. Some of them did their best not to muss their hair as they fitted the bulky devices onto their heads.

"Everybody ready?"

There was a murmur of assent.

"Good. It will be a moment before the presentation will begin, so just relax and be patient."

I quietly pressed a button on the lectern, turning the helmets on. Before long, the only sound was the slow, steady breathing of the women. I waited a full two minutes before I pressed the second button.

"Welcome to PonyTech Farms," said a warm male voice in their helmets. "Your first day can be a little disorienting and scary, so we've designed this presentation to walk you through the process and calm your fears.

"You will be dressed only in your underwear as you enter the trailer, where you will be bound and hooded. You should make yourself as comfortable as possible, as your ride can last up to five hours.

"Once you have reached your destination, you will be off-loaded into the processing area, where you will be stripped, shaven, cleaned externally and internally, then fitted with a harness, bridle and bit, and pony boots. Stablehands will then clip reins to your bits and lead you to the stables, where each of you will be given an individual stall. You will obey every command, no matter how difficult or absurd, because that is what a good ponygirl does. When you are hitched up and no commands are being given, you will wait patiently, keeping your posture erect and your eyes forward, no matter how long you have to stand there and no matter what the distractions are.

"You will take pride in being a ponygirl, because that is your destiny, because that is what you have been born to do. You may be a work horse or a show pony, a harness racer or a breeder. Whatever the career that has been chosen for you is what you will be, and you will accept that. You will do your best to please your masters, so that you will be rewarded with affection and treats. You will not be ashamed of your servitude or nakedness. Instead, you will be proud that you have been chosen to be a ponygirl, and you will do your best to fulfill your masters' every wishes."

I watched as the women took all this in, their bodies slumped in their chairs. A few minutes later, the pre-recorded voice finished, then told them to rise and remove their helmets. I couldn't help but smile as I saw them all comply, then stand there, awaiting their next instructions.

"Remove your outer clothing, shoes and slips included, and leave it in your seats, then line up by this side door here, single-file," I said.

The sight of a small crowd of attractive, well-dressed young women removing jackets, unbuttoning blouses, and unzipping skirts never failed to arouse me. Oddly, they still looked professional as they shuffled along in their stockinged feet and lined up. Perhaps it was because their lingerie was as professional-looking as their suits, lacking the frills and revealing features normally associated with women's underwear. Still, there was the occasional garter belt or push-up bra, and the variety of colors and styles was like a window into their personalities.

But that would not last. Before the day was out, they would all look pretty much the same, lacking such luxuries as clothing and hair. The brainwashing helmets had done their job well, and the careers they were about to embark on were far different than the ones they had anticipated when they first walked in the door.