Randi and Blaze sat side by side, both girls topless, gazing ahead into the dressing table mirror before them. Randi was a well-endowed blonde whose heavy breasts with their wide capped nipples hung rich and succulent. She wore her wavy hair in soft curls which she hoped made her look a little like Marilyn Monroe. She was eyeing her bullet-shaped tits with a vaguely critical eye. She’d always been proud of her breasts. She was the most developed girl in her high school; never had trouble getting boys. They called her "Jugs" Malone. But lately she worried that her pride and joys might be sagging just a bit too much, and wondered, not for the first time, about getting implants, just to firm them up. She knew Blaze’s opinion, so she didn’t ask. She was against it. Blaze said most men liked to see the bounce and sway of natural boobs on a dancer, not those phony plastic jobs. But Randi wasn’t so sure. She slipped a hand under her left tit, hefted the soft boob a bit, and quickly let it drop. She glanced over at her fellow dancer, watching Blaze’s reflected image in the frame of light bulbs as the lanky brunette watched herself tucking her plump little tits into the gauzy cradle of a flimsy bra while she rattled on about the guy she met between sets last Thursday.

The guy’s name was Franco, and he said he worked for someone named David Spaulding. He said this Spaulding guy was some kinda big deal; a producer, Blaze thought. Anyway, he said Spaulding was throwing a party at his place on Long Island and he wanted some of the girls from "The Winner’s Circle" to come out to his place just to "help with the entertainment." That was the way he put it. Of course, Blaze had pretty good idea what he meant by that.

The guy looked kinda cute, but Blaze was suspicious. This could all be just a con to get in her pants; customers were always coming up to the dancers with deals of one kind or another, and all they really wanted was to be able to say they had fucked a "Winner’s" stripper. She was about to brush the guy off, when she remembered that she thought she heard something about this Spaulding guy. She now turned to her friend, who read all the show biz magazines, always on the lookout for that one big break, to ask her advice: Had she ever heard of David Spaulding?

Blaze was taken back by the enthusiastic reaction she got. Randi’s big blue eyes instantly brightened and she grinned from ear to ear, nodding vigorously, barely able to contain herself with glee. She furtively glanced around the room, but none of the other girls were paying attention. Then she leaned closer to Blaze.

"Are you kiddin’?!! she hissed. "DAVID SPAULDING!!!..god, he’s just the biggest TV producer on the East coast. He’s one heavy hitter, Baby. You mean you never even heard of the guy?! Where’re you from again? Cincinnati? Spaulding was the brains behind all those sitcoms in the 80s,. I read that with all those residuals he has more money than some countries! He has homes all over the place. I just saw a spread on his place on the Island…South Hampton, I think. It’s HUGE...I mean acres and acres all in one of those walled-in compound like the Kennedy’s got: a fantastic house, with servants and swimming pools, horses, tennis courts, guesthouses…the whole thing. If this guy Franco’s for real, this could be great!" She edged even closer, took Blaze’s hand and lowered her voice to a conspiratory hush. Blaze caught a whiff of sweet perfume as her friend pressed closer till their faces were close together and a soft breast nudged into her arm. The scent mingled with other perfumes and girl-sweat and cigarette smoke to form the hazy atmosphere in the warm closeness of the crowded dressing room. Randi lowered her voice. "Now, Honey, tell Randi all about it. I want details, Babe. Everything!"

**** **** ****

Thus it began, and a few weeks later, Blaze, Randi, Kim, Flo, Debbie, and Silky, were happily ensconced in the back of a luxuriously appointed van making its way out of the mid-town traffic to a place of dreams, a place called the Hamptons – a place they had only heard about.

The hired help were rushing about making final preparations for the big bash, but heads were turned when six pretty showgirls in tight shorts and cropped tops, clambered out of the van, long legs flashing in the summer sun. Awestruck, the girls stood gaping like tourists, taking in the starkly modern home of smoothened cream-colored concrete, glass and steel with its sweeping curves and cantilevered decks that soared out over the rolling lawns. Their driver ushered them in through the back of the place through full-sized glass doors that slid open with the press of a button. They found themselves on the second floor of the luxurious mansion in what appeared to be a glass walled room suspended in space. Their sandaled feet were sinking into the thick ply carpet as they were drawn towards the full wall of glass with its spectacular view of the grounds, the well-manicured gardens, and the lush countryside beyond.

Franco was waiting for them. Amid the hustle and bustle of the uniformed household staff, he alone seemed totally relaxed, fit and tanned in black denim jeans and a half-opened satin shirt, he greeted them smiling broadly. His eyes lit up when he saw the girls stroll in, and he took his time pointedly looking the women over, opening admiring the leggy dancers in their brief outfits, obviously pleased with what he saw.

He now explained why the strippers had been hired: they would be providing the entertainment for the party, but it would not be topless dancing they would be doing today. His boss had something else in mind. He beckoned the group to the far glass wall, and began pointing out things on the estate: the pools, the tennis courts, the race track, and the prominent white stables gleaming in the summer sun like a jewel set in a carpet of green. It seems that those horses were Spaulding’s pride and joy. Apparently, the guy was just nuts about them. In fact, horses were the sort of "theme" of this particular party. It was to be a costume party with guests decked out in riding clothes; complete with boots, and little round hats. They would even be given little riding crops as favors, here Franco shook his head in bemused wonderment. Of course, the girls would also have to get dressed up.

This should be no big deal for them. After all, they were pros, used to wearing all sort of sexy things. Getting dressed up and parading around, showing off their tits and asses in those tiny thongs and those skimpy costumes they wore, at least, the clothes they wore to start their dances at "Winner’s" – that was what they did for a living, so he knew no one would mind wearing the little outfit the boss had dreamed up for them.

"What we got here are some hot babes," he winked knowingly at Blaze, "Girls who know the score, eh?"

And with that he gestured the six women closer, as if he was going to let them in on a secret.

"You see," he went on, throwing a friendly arm around Randi and Blaze’s shoulders to gather them around, "the boss is really into some of the kinkier stuff. Nothing violent," he quickly added, when he saw his audience looking at each other. "No, just dressing up and showing off a bit." His hand slid lower, and he briefly cupped Blaze’s denim-clad bottom, giving her a little reassuring pat before moving on.

It turned out that what Spaulding had in mind for his guests was an afternoon of racing, run on the hard mud track that circled the stables. Normally, that track was used to exercise the horses, but today it would not be the thoroughbreds of Spaulding’s stables that would make the run for the roses.

**** **** ****

Franco recruited two of the hired hands who worked in the stable as grooms to help out with fitting the costumes on the girls. The three men now huddled in the corner of the makeshift dressing room that had been set up in the plush, air-conditioned stables. They were patiently waiting for the girls to get undressed, and loving every minute of it. The walls of the dressing room were lined with mirrors, making it possible for Blaze to watch the men in the corner without looking their way. Franco preened, pleased with himself, indolent, slouched back against a counter, smoking a cigarette; silently watching through hodded eyes as six beautiful women took their clothes off before him. The other two were laughing and joking like schoolboys, but he paid no attention to them.

Blaze joined her five sisters casually shedding their traveling clothes. The tall brunette with the short-cropped stylish hair shimmied out of her snug shorts, slipped off her thong panties, and with one quick gesture, peeled off her thin crop top to toss it aside. Blaze glanced sideways to a mirror to find Franco was watching her. She ignored him and instead turned her attention to the "costume," the dull leather trappings she would be wearing for today’s equestrian show.

The gleaming high-heeled boots would pose no problem, as she was used to performing in such tall boots. Rather thoughtfully, thin socks had been provided to protect her feet; although she still wasn’t looking forward to running in those wicked 5-inch heels. Telling herself this was just another show, she plunked her bare bottom down on the smooth cool vinyl bench and tugged on the long boots, running the zippers up each calve. Sleek and shiny, the snug boots ended just below the knee.

Next, she picked up the body harness, puzzling over the tangle of straps. The broad belt, with its double buckles in front and D-rings attached at the sides, was obviously designed to be worn around the waist. This waist-cincher was wide enough to band her naked torso from just beneath the rib cage to the top of the hips. A single strap ran up the back to meet a crossing belt that would pass around her body high up under the arms. She saw the others struggling with the trappings, and watched the male "volunteers" practically tripping over themselves to give them a hand.

Blaze slipped on the contraption. The upper cross-piece could be looped and buckled in place to form a strap traversing her upper chest just above the breasts. A second vertical strap hung down in front from the center of the waist-cincher, swaying before her like some obscene dangling penis as she settled the belt above the ridge of her hips.

By now Franco had thrown away his cigarette, and he too stepped up, eager to join in "helping" the girls with their costumes. Like the other two guys, he moved from girl to girl, joking with them, encouraging them, flattering them; and all the while he was inspecting the fit, buckling straps, tightening belts, and of course taking the opportunity to run his hands over their naked bodies to assure all was snug but comfortable.

Stepping up to Blaze he began by examining her belt, tightening it, tugging on the twin straps to gain an extra notch, urging the girl to suck in a breath and hold it, while he cinched her up tight and buckled the straps into place.

Satisfied with the fit, he gave her a big smile, then stepped behind her to continue his job. Blaze watched herself in the mirrored wall as the man worked behind her, making the necessary adjustments. The tightly-fitted belt molded her lithe torso into smoothly tapering hourglass. He was adjusting the back strap, tightening it till the crossing strip of leather indented the soft flesh at the top of her chest.

Suddenly, seeing herself naked in nothing but leather strapping electrified Blaze. The erotic thrill sent a shiver through her. There was something exciting about tightness of the dull leather belt, the snug feel of the buttery leather straps encircling her naked body, that took her breath away. She closed her eyes, and swallowed down a knot of lust as Franco’s greedy hands freely explored the smooth slope of her back, her slender hips; fondled and squeezed her naked bottom till she squirmed unable to keep still. He laughed and ran a finger around her waist under the belt testing its tightness and then he reached between her booted legs to take up the strap that hung from the front of the belt and pull it through her slightly-opened thighs.

Blaze had to bite down on her lower lip to suppress a moan as the strap that bisected her clean-shaven vulva was pulled up into her crotch, biting into soft pussyflesh, pressing its way between the folded labia while Franco silently tugged on the notched end. She clenched her teeth and murmured: "Ohhh, not so tight." It was a whispered plea, meant for just the two of them.

The pressure eased but slightly. Franco leaned against her long naked back and his hot breath whispered in her ear. "You love it, don’t you Baby? The tighter the better. I knew you were the type that liked it rough." And with that he yanked on the leather strip hauling it up in back forcing Blaze up on her toes as he drew the strap between her cheeks and held it there tight in her crack. The end was threaded through the slip buckle; the crotch strap secured.

He kissed the back of her neck and let his hands trail down over her naked shoulders, stepping back while Blaze stood stock still before the mirror. Her soft brown eyes flew open to behold the erotic sight of herself in leather restraints; she took a deep shivering breath.

Franco continued to help her with the preparations; assisted in securing soft leather cuffs to her wrists and ankles. An additional set of straps, with D-rings attached to them, were buckled into place banding the upper arms just above the elbows. To complete this stage, a final strap was looped around her neck and buckled to form a high 4-inch leather collar. And here her dresser was careful to allow some slack so that the collar loosely encircled the tall girl’s slender neck.

By now there was an air of anticipation, a sexual tension that grew to permeate the dressing room.

The joking, laughing and wise-cracking between the still-dressed men and the naked women had trailed off. There was an occasional grunt or half-moan as straps were pulled tight. Blaze heard someone yelp when she received a friendly slap on the butt. Furtive hands were groping and fondling, taking advantage of this unbelievable opportunity to savor all the pleasures the statuesque showgirls had to offer. Murmured female voices mixed with those of the clearly aroused grooms who talked under their breath to their partners of the moment, sharing intimacies, telling them how hot they were; how super they looked in bondage.

Blaze looked around her. She saw her girlfriends pulling on the leather trappings, being suited up for their roles as ponygirls in the bizarre performance orchestrated by the mysterious millionaire -- who they had yet to lay eyes on.

Again her eyes came back to rest on herself in the full-length mirror. A wave of randiness welled up in her. There was a throbbing deep in her loins. All she knew was she wanted a man..and pretty-boy Franco was looking scrumptious to her right now. She knew he was sporting an erection under those expensive slacks he wore, and he was leaning into her, his warm hands were all over her body. But just as she was about to make a grab for him, he pulled away. Giving her a quick kiss on her startled lips, he turned to remove some trappings that hung nearby on a set of wooden pegs.

This turned out to be the head harness. The tangle of straps was placed over her head, imprisoning Blaze’s stylish cropped hair. A thin band looped the crown of her head, crossing her forehead. From this head band an inverted vee angled down on either side of her nose, to hold a hard rubber bit that her handler had to gently coax the reluctant girl to accept between her teeth. The last strip ran from ear to ear over the top of her head; the ends, dangling down on either side, were to be gathered under the chin and buckled there. He was looking into her big brown eyes and smiling as he tightened the chin strap to make sure the head gear fitted snugly.

"Comfy?" Franco teased.

"Ummmph," was the best the elegant ponygirl could manage.

Six naked women, booted and wearing the black leather trappings of ponygirls, were now lined up in a row by their handlers. Side by side, they faced their reflected images across the room in the full length mirrors that lined the far wall.

Blaze, standing straight and tall, shoulders back and lithe chest arched out, looked in the mirror to scan each of the girls in turn: there was Kim, with her small boyish body, all arms and legs; Randi whose voluptuous curves were made even more pronounced by the tight waist cincher, and whose big tits were hanging out in bold seductive display; Kim, long-limbed and athletic, and almost as tall as Blaze; little Flo with her up-tilted nipples and her perky blond pony tail bobbing out from under the headgear; Debbie with that girl-next-door look, small but sexy tits and a nicely rounded butt; and Silky, with her cute bangs and her long straight chestnut hair falling like a mane of fine silk halfway down her back. These were girls that she shared a dressing room with, each day. She was used to seeing them in the all-together, and yet there was something startling about seeing them in bondage, lined up like this, those familiar naked bodies adorned with leather. It made Blaze terribly hot.

Her eyes came back to study her own form: proud and tall, her attractive features crisscrossed with straps of the headgear; her taut, small mounded breasts, like thickened disks set high on her long torso, nipples semi-aroused and tingling with excitement. Her eyes fell to the smooth waist-cincher, the flare of her slim hips, her vulva, the narrow delta kept shaven for the job, bisected by the crotch strap; naked thighs, long and white, and those glamorous boots that elongated her sleek lines and kept her high up on her toes. The young woman stood entranced; a wave of passivity came over her. She was suddenly aware of her sexual power. Seductive, provocative; turned into a sex object -- a woman to be used.

Now the striking transformation from showgirl to ponygirl was complete, except for the one final piece of adornment.

Franco knew the boss was concerned about this next step. They had talked it over and decided Franco would have to be very careful in handling the delicate operation, for the ponygirls were about to acquire tails!

Some obstinacy might well be encountered. There might even be outright refusal when the girls found out that the tails were attached by butt plugs they would be required to wear up their bottoms for the show they were to put on.

To ward off any such unpleasantness, each handler was to control a girl by harness and bit, and as a further precaution, he would make sure her wrists were clipped together behind her. With the girl’s hands held behind her back, and the bit between her teeth, any protest would be confined to an occasional urgent bray, and the vigorous shaking of the head, once they fully realized just what was in store for them.

Franco sized up his prized filly and decided the tall girl wouldn’t give him any real trouble. She was digging it; just loved being tied up. He had no doubt the slinky brunette was into the bondage stuff, clearly getting turned on by the kinky situation. Her nipples were even sticking out! This chick was hot to trot! Still one never knew how a girl might react at the moment she realized a butt plug was being shoved up her ass. Some of them took it in stride, but there were others who didn’t like it at all! Spaulding reminded him that it was an operation that had to be done with a great deal of care.

Blaze was shaken from her reverie, startled when Franco touched her. She turned to him, but he avoided her eyes as he took her wrists, pulled her arms behind her, and clipped the cuffs together. She was tingling with sexual tension, yet feeling a bit uneasy, as he held her by the upper arm and walked her across the room to where a long horizontal bar ran along at waist height in front of the mirrored wall. To Blaze it looked like the kind of bar ballerina might use for her limbering up exercises, except for the set of O-rings that had been attached every few feet.

A short leash was snapped to her collar and this was used to draw her to within a few feet of the bar. Renewing his grip on the leash, Franco twisted it around his fist till he held her just a few inches in front of her neck, before slowly pulling her down, forcing the girl to bend over the bar.

When she fully realized what was happening, Blaze attempted to rear back, shaking her head and, struggling to free herself as a garbled protest found its way around the rubber bit. But Franco was undeterred by this sudden show of fractiousness and he never relaxed the pressure on her, drawing her head down low till he could clip the short lead to a convenient O-ring. Blaze realized just how helpless she was -- held in place in this uncomfortable position, bending from the hips with arms behind her, her little titties hanging down in taut peaks; her bare bottom jutting back in obscene invitation.

To her right she saw Randi being secured in place beside her hitched to the next ring. The curvey blonde looked over at Blaze; the bit in her clenched teeth, and growing apprehension in her big china-blue eyes. The groom attending to her couldn’t resist cupping one of Randi’s substantial boobs as they hung down heavily under her bent-over body, grabbing a quick feel.

But such dalliance, common enough before, was now rare, because the grooms were intent on what they were doing, working quickly and efficiently. Blaze wondered if they had practiced this ahead of time; then too, perhaps they were not the first girls to undergo this treatment?

Soon all six of the beautiful young women had been bent over, and were tied by their collars to the hitching post.

Blaze shifted uneasily, setting her heels a little apart to adjust to the awkward stance which had been forced on her. She could only imagine what they must look like from the vantage point of the randy men: Six naked female bottoms jutting back seductively, just waiting to be mounted. A fragment of a nursery rhyme floated up in her head: ‘…pretty maids all in a row.’

Once he was well satisfied that the ponygirls could give them no real trouble, Franco ordered the tails to be brought out. Looking up to watch in the mirrors before their faces, the girls saw the grooms approach from behind them with handfuls of six luxurious tails made of what looked like fine horse hair.

It was only then that Franco announced that, by the way, for today’s races the ponygirls…would be wearing tails!

As he had expected, this news was greeted with immediate alarm as the bending women realized all at once just how precarious their position was! Urgent howls of protests were garbled by the bits jammed in their mouths. Franco let the shrieking cacophony go on for few seconds, then he raised his hands to calm them down. He reminded them that they had all received half of the very generous sum they had been promised for the day’s work, and before they went back to the city they would each revive a fat envelope with their name on it; the balance due to them with, if they were especially good, a big bonus. Mr. Spaulding was a very generous employer, and if they played their cards right, they might even be asked back again someday.

Besides, it was no big deal, he told them. Was there a girl in the room who had never taken it up the ass? (Blaze thought of Debbie. She bet the cute lesbian had never had a prick up her ass.) Franco assured them that the butt plugs were a whole lot smaller than a good stiff prick. Besides they’d use some K-Y jelly so the thing would slip right up, nice and smooth. They’d hardly even notice it once it was tucked away in there, and he gave Blaze’s conveniently-placed butt a friendly pat. They watched him in the mirror: smiling to himself, grinning from ear to ear. The smug bastard was enjoying this immensely!

The crew now went down the line, moving from woman to woman, attaching tails. They worked methodically, carefully threading each plug through a ring in the length of the crotch strap that ran up the crack of the girl’s ass. The strap could be adjusted till the asshole was precisely centered in the brass ring. The hank of tail ended in a squat solid rubber plug, ridged, so that when popped through it, the metal ring became a grommet that would insure the plug would stay in place, lodged firmly up a girl’s ass even during the most vigorous run.

Franco, as the guy in charge, had reserved for himself the pleasure of "doing" Blaze. He had been much taken by the long-legged brunette the first time he had set eyes on her; captivated by her attractive good looks, her beautiful long legs, her natural elegance, the way she came across: friendly yet just a little distant. He watched her getting turned on, heating up as soon as the leather was tightened on her body; he longed to fuck her. But that would have to wait. Oh yes, he would have this proud beauty, but only after the races had been run!

Looking up, she saw him standing behind her vulnerable bottom. He was applying a dab of gel to the end of the tail while contemplating her shapely rear end. He tucked the tail under one arm so both hands were free to be placed on her jutting behind.

He stepped up against her and leaned over her, draping the bent-over woman’s body with his own, rubbing his crotch over her naked bottom to let her get the feel of his masculine arousal, the hardened prick that tented the front of his black denim jeans. He reached under to cup her small but delightful breasts and finger the soft silkiness of tittieflesh.

Blaze moaned around the bit and arched back, but he quickly gave up her breasts and stepped back a pace. Her eyes met his in mirror, and she watched as he ran his hands greedily over her bare rump. Blaze anxiously shifted her stance; widened her boot heels so they were planted even further apart.

She felt his hands curve around as he felt her butt; palms fitted to the sleek contours, fingers digging into the hollows of her asscheeks. He fondled her lavishly, before slipping a hand between her legs, seeking the strap that was drawn up tight into her crotch. He found it, fingering her rapidly-moistening pussy along the way before following it up the crack of the ass. He used his other hand to pry open her rearcheeks. Holding the splayed mounds apart, he made a final adjustment to the strap so as to neatly center his target in the brass ring that was embedded in her rear valley. He smiled to see the way her suddenly exposed asshole spasmed, clenching fearfully at the prospect of being penetrated.

He leaned over and asked if she was ready. Blaze set herself, closed her eyes and nodded. She felt his steadying hand on her rump, felt the tip of the sturdy butt plug touch her anus, and took a deep breath. Then he was pressing it into her, meeting some resistance, but continuing with grim determination. She twisted and squirmed. An abrupt shove brought a stab of pain, a sudden pop, and then the uncomfortable feeling of being stuffed. It was in her. A residue of pain remained in her butt, fading to a dull throb as her muscles worked instinctively to expel the intruder. Blaze jacked up, her head raising as far as the short lead holding her collar would permit; arched her neck back, and clenched down on the bit between her teeth.

Franco slithered up her back, buried is face in the crook of her neck, kissed her there as she twisted under him while he jiggled the plug in her ass.

"You love it don’t you, Babe? Before you get back on that van, I’m gonna fuck you in the ass," he hissed, his warm breath burning her ear and firing her with lust. He gave her an extra stab with the deep-seated plug and she gave an open-mouthed groan.

Her handler laughed, gave Blaze an affectionately slap on the rear end, and walked away, leaving the impaled girl with butt plug shoved up her clamping ass, to adjust to the strange feelings emanating from her violated bottom.

With all six ponygirls properly plugged, the pretty tails inserted up their pert behinds, the grooms unhooked them from the bar, one at a time, and led them to the waiting buggies.

The reins were attached to the head-harness at the bits. They were backed into place between the traces of the light-weight sulkys, and harnessed up to the rigs.

Two buggies were readied, each to be pulled by a team of three girls. Now the stable doors were opened and the newest set of Spaulding’s ponygirls were led out into the sunlight of a bright June day.

The End

Copyright Don Winslow, 2003

http://www.asstr.org/~Don_Winslow/