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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 curvy 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 be 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, and 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 receive 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