The Auction

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming, please be seated, and welcome to our bi-annual auction. I’m pleased to see some familiar faces and a couple of new ones. I’m sure, as always you will not be disappointed. Today we have three young fillies on the block and, as a special treat, a young stallion.”

There was a murmuring in the audience; this was exciting, this had never happened before. Some bidders smiled approvingly.

“Now before we start. I should make it clear that all four have been broken and are well trained with the bit and whip. It has taken us about four to six months to achieve this, at not inconsiderable expense to us, and discomfort to them of course.” There was a mild amused murmuring from the audience. 

“They can be purchased en bloc, or the three fillies together and the stallion singly. They have been trained together as well as singly. The decision is yours. Let’s bring them out.” The MC, an attractive, preppy-looking, clean-cut young man of about 25 in a tuxedo, went to the side of the stage and pulling a leash, led in the four lots. The three fillies were in front and the stallion followed. They did not drag their feet but kept two paces behind each other. There was no struggling, but among them there was an air of resigned acceptance, and nervousness. He drew them up in a line, released the leash on the first filly, and they turned obediently to face the audience in the glare of the lights. They stood to attention and listened to the murmurs of approval. 

“I shall be brief, you may inspect the lots before the bidding.” He placed his hands on the buttocks of the filly nearest him, and she shivered slightly.

“As you see they all have the basic filly outfit,” he passed his hand down her thigh, “skin tight latex full-body suit, for Blondie a yellow suit, back zip to the neck and covered by the reinforced posture collar, which gives them a nice proud look. There is only one key to the locks, which goes to the winning bidder of course.” He patted her calf and she raised her foot to the rear.

 “The hoofs are standard four inch heels inside the hoof shaped boot, and laced to the knee here. They are all used to them now and can do a good trot in them, even the stallion. Now we have the standard Spanish leather harness, here between her legs, criss-cross over the breasts and her shoulders. The D rings at the waist can fix the mittened hands at the sides, front or back; your choice. The buggy can be attached at her sides, or her arms or elbows; lots of options there. We have small holes here for the nipples to peep through, and here you will see the standard piercings, rings and the bells we have added.” He flicked the bell on the filly’s breast and there was no reaction from her, just a faint shiver. He moved to the front and placed a hand at her pussy. Her breathing increased slightly.

“Here of course in the suit we have the reinforced pussy opening, the studs allow for your selection of inserts. All four have gone through extensive electrolysis and all are permanently bald there now. The labia here is ringed, twice each side so you can lace them up or ring them together if you wish.” Here he parted her lips and she spread her legs obediently, now breathing heavily. 

“The clitoris is of course ringed and we have added another bell there.” On his command she turned her back to the audience, and he spread her tail, the colour of which matched her head hair. 

“We have a matching tail attached to a large butt plug. You can obviously use bigger or smaller plugs, it’s your choice. Now the heads, for the auction we have dispensed with the latex masks so you can see what beauties they are. But of course with the lot comes full equipment and face-fitting masks. Again we have a fine Spanish leather harness, over the head, under the chin attached to the posture collar here and either side of the nose. She can barely move her head at all. The blinkers here can be closed over the nose; they are well padded. This steel ring here holds the hair in a ponytail. I know some of you like them bald – better for masks certainly, and of course you can depilate them later if you wish, but we left the hair on for now to show you what lovelies they are.” 

“We have here Blondie, Blackie and Scarlet, but you can rename them if you want. We have advanced our technology with the bits, here, I will show you.” He approached the filly and carefully placed his fingers either side of the rubber-coated bit and putting two fingers in her mouth, extracted the bit. He held it up and explained it slowly, while the filly, capable of shouting or screaming did not do so, but stood silently, cowed into silence. 

“We have here the standard rubber-covered bit, you can order larger ones if you wish. In the middle is a hole, see, now this slots into the large ball stud she has in her pierced tongue. Blondie, tongue out! You will see here the large stud in the middle of her tongue. You will also see some little attachments we have put on her upper and lower back teeth. The slots here on the bit fit into these attachments and make a really snug fit. She’s still able to eat of course and close her mouth and talk, I suppose, but that is…er…discouraged here.” There was general laughter in the room. No, it was evident the fillies did no talking. He approached Blondie. 

“And we slide it in like this, and voila, locked on.” The girl’s face showed no emotion, her shiny white teeth gripped the rubber-covered bit. Her eyes, like the others, searched the room, no doubt she was wondering who her master or mistress would be. He lifted her head. 

“One final touch, we have pierced and grommeted her nose so she can be ringed and led by it.” There was real laughter here, but the fillies stood in silence, perhaps seeing now for the first time the level of organisation that had taken them to their destiny; for there was clearly no way out of this. 

“I think I should give you a brief history of each of the lots. I know you are unconcerned with their previous lives, but it is particularly cruel to my equine friends here, to hear about their former lives and knowing they will never return to them. Blondie, step forward!” She did, in her shiny hoofs and costume, staring ahead into the audience. 

“Several months ago, Blondie was a successful real estate agent, only 24 and very popular, and as you can see a real beauty. She was single of course, as you know all our acquisitions are single. I’m not that cruel to leave a family without a mother. She did have a boyfriend, but I am sorry to report, Blondie, he has found someone else, you are pretty well forgotten now.” Blondie closed her eyes in silence, a tear falling down her cheek. 

“So Blondie went to a viewing with a bogus client and never returned. It was a big deal in the press for a month or so but then they moved on to something else, Blondie is yesterday’s news, or really no news at all now. Her training went very well; of the three she seemed to accept her fate the quickest. She’s fit, as you can see and takes commands well. She will be a splendid addition to your stables. Blondie, step back.”

She did so on his command.

“Blackie, step forward. Blackie is all of 30; she must hate being handled by me, a mere lad of 24. An experienced lawyer, who went out jogging one evening and never returned. When will these women learn that the streets at night are a dangerous place? All she had to do was run with a friend, but she made that fateful mistake and will regret it for the rest of her life. Dear Blackie, you should have known better, smart girl like you.” Her eyes just looked downwards, spittle covering her bit and dripping on to her rubber-covered breasts; regret evident in her face.

“Blackie, back, Scarlet, forward.” Blackie went immediately back but there was hesitation from Scarlet. In her red rubber suit, her eyes glanced towards him and she waited a second, then she stepped forward, as if she had made a point. It had been noted by the MC and by the audience. He approached her, a smile on his face. Then he placed a hand on her rubber-covered breast and flicked her nipple bell, then touched her cheek; she shuddered. 

“It must be true what they say about redheads. This young lady has been quite a project. We have had her the longest, and to be truthful, she really is not broken yet.” There was talking in the audience. 

“Yes, it is true. So why bring her up for sale? We could keep her another few months and break her spirit. But we think you would enjoy this challenge as we do; to break a bright, spirited young woman into an obedient equine. We are part way there, but we thought you might like to finish the job yourselves. If you don’t want to, that is fine, simply don’t bid on her. If you are dissatisfied or she is too much of a handful, then we will take her back and return your money.” 

There was talking again; this was a challenge to them all, and the MC knew well that they could not resist it. The girl’s chest rose proudly at this, she tried to wriggle her arms, but in the back prayer position and with her hands clipped to her posture collar there was no play at all. He parted her pussy lips, she reluctantly spread her legs, and he flicked her clit bell, the audience could see she wanted to fight him but she held her ground.

“She was self-employed in advertising, bright, made some money; she’s only 26 so there are many years of training ahead for you, and her. She’s a handful, we have of course put her to the whip, really reddened her flanks, but she still fights it. I think maybe she likes the whip,” here she glared at him, “well, it’s for you to find out. Being a feminist type, she was out walking at night, very silly really, and it took a real fight to get her in the van and rubberised. The piercings took some spirit out of her, we did not use an anaesthetic (and that must have hurt), and we have a larger butt plug in her. She is dildo trained but not fully broken. We have tried her with the suffocation gas mask on the treadmill, really limiting her oxygen and this has worked quite well; we would suggest you continue with this during training, just keep the gas mask on and turn down the inlet. It’s a beautiful sight, her breasts heaving for oxygen. Relative to the others, who will occasionally ask the odd question or plead for their future, this one likes to talk, so she has got used to a variety of gags over the six months we have had her.”

So the three fillies stood to attention in line, their arms twisted behind their backs, bells on nipples and clits, saliva dripping down their chins from their tight bits, their mouths in a wide grimace. Blondie was in her yellow suit, Blackie in her black one and Scarlet in bright red. They were an impressive sight, and would surely get a good price. But now it was the stallion’s turn!

He’d been standing to attention all the time as the fillies were introduced. Like the fillies he was encased in tight latex, in black and white splotches – a piebald beauty! He too had knee high boots and with internal high heels; and his arms were stretched back to his posture collar. He also had the body and head harness. But there the similarities ended! The MC particularly enjoyed his description of the stallion’s downfall and attire. 

“Step forward, Prancer.” As with Scarlet, there was a moment’s hesitation, but the young man stepped forward in his shiny high hoofs. The MC approached, he was about the same age as the young equine. His eyes glared at the MC but he was in such strict restraint that there was nothing he could do. The MC stood by the silent man/horse. He placed his hand on the stallion’s head, emphasising his complete subjugation. The stallion breathed hard, saliva dripping out of the sides of his bitted mouth. 

“A little history for you all. We sort of lucked out with Prancer here, he almost volunteered; he was such a good candidate. We were searching the clubs for young prospects, unattached attractive young males. This young fellow was very full of himself, chatting up all the girls, a real machismo. We watched him cast aside a couple without a care – not that we are particularly sympathetic for the female species as can be evidenced here!” They all laughed at the predicament of three fillies. 

“But we liked his arrogant streak and his ultra-confidence in his manhood. So we had to have him, and so we took him. Our friend,” he patted the stallion’s head, “has not been seen since. He was a broker in the city and we have spread rumours about cocaine and the wrong crowd and that seemed to take him off the front pages after a while. I think he thought it was some kind of prank at first so we decided to bring him down to earth really fast. Michelle is our piercer, a real expert, and she pierced two big rings through his nipples; that got his attention, didn’t it Prancer? We punched big holes in his ear lobes and like the fillies a big grommet in his septum. Then just for good measure, two big ball studs in his tongue, so his bit is different from the fillies. It was more pain for Prancer here,” he patted his head, almost sympathetically, “but more control for his master or mistress. We couldn’t pierce his labia or clit, so we came up with something really quite nasty.” Here, he bent down and pointed to the poor man’s dick, which protruded through his suit. 

“This man, Prancer, has a good sized cock, but he will have problems putting it to use now. Through the head, we have horizontally planted this silver ring. It is slightly above the urethra so he can urinate all right. The ring can fold upwards so it can be attached to say his nose ring, or under, to be attached to a chain between his legs, pulling his cock back. Very painful and very effective I am sure.” There was a murmur of approval from the audience. 

“He can of course have erections, but should he ever have sex – you might want him to cover some of your fillies, just for fun – the ring will rub the top or bottom of his cock uncomfortably, but then again the fillies may enjoy the attention.” The MC slapped the stallion’s buttocks hard, but Prancer stood still.

“He’s in great shape; he’s had lots of work on the treadmill and outside. Obviously he is a proud young man, or was, and it took a lot of training to break him in; lots of the whip, and he still doesn’t care for the bit, but, well, that’s just too bad really! We have spent weeks depilating his body and head. All the treatments known to man, and we are now happy that he is well and truly permanently hairless all over. 

The last treatment was over a month ago and there are no signs of re-growth, so he is as bald and smooth as a baby. He’s young, strong and has some vim in him, and like Scarlet will be hugely entertaining for you to break in further. He’s very good on his heels and he accepts the butt plugs much better that he originally did, for as a ladies man of course it was a great humiliation for him. Oh yes, I forgot, there is a further ring around the scrotal sac and a small ring attachment. So the balls can now be drawn back between the legs and the cock attached to the nose ring - a wonderfully painful refinement we liked.” He stood back and Prancer returned to the line with the fillies. 

“So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, I’ll order them to spread out, get these connecting leashes off so that you can inspect them at your leisure. There we are, please come up on stage, you can see the lights are warm and they are beginning to work up a good sweat. I will be happy to answer any of your questions.” 

He stood back and arranged the four ponies in a wide square, each facing in and looking at each other, somewhat forlornly. The buyers ascended the stage. There were maybe 20 of them, of all races and nationalities, and ages; there were several very young bidders, both male and female. It was really only then that the ponies realised the huge network that they had been sucked into. There was no way that they would escape this rich and very private organisation. 

They went round the lots talking amongst themselves as if they were buying horses that had no will of their own – which was exactly the reality. They squeezed and prodded arses and breasts and tweaked nipples, opened mouths and played with bits, pulled and pushed butt plugs, they twinkled bells and laughed, bathing in the power they had over fellow human beings – although now, human beings no more! The women seemed crueller, poor Prancer had his cock and balls given a thorough inspection. 

It was a terrible ignominy for the ponies, but a realisation that, even if they needed a reminder, they were now just chattels, playthings. But this was to be their life now, and after so many months training at least Blondie and Blackie seemed to accept this. Prancer and Scarlet even seemed a little more resigned. How could they fight this organisation? Escape was entirely impossible. Now all they could do was look at their new master or mistress and just hope or pray that they would be bought by a sympathetic one. This seemed unlikely, but there are always degrees of cruelty. 

Under the hot lamps, sweat now poured off their brows and saliva dripped down their chests. Inside their suits they were hot and wet. The real estate broker, the businesswoman, the lawyer and the city broker were now no more, but reduced to auction items, mere chattels to be bought by the highest bidder and then spirited away, probably overseas to join a stable of other older, more experienced ponies. Yes, money could buy anything, even anonymity. The bidders all seemed to know each other, so clearly this network met at times and presumably had races with their ponies. After being transported mysteriously, they may meet again and have to race each other at some clandestine location. 

Poor Prancer was getting his cock ring pulled by a beautiful 25 year old blonde, an heiress no doubt, some kind of Eurotrash. There were days when he could have chatted her up, but those days were long gone. Oh yes, he thought as he winced and gurgled into his bit. She whispered into his ear.

“Mmmm you are a tasty one. I’d like to put you through your paces on my estate in Long Island. I bet you would love to fuck me, wouldn’t you Prancer, well, dear pony, I have other uses for you.” She slapped his rubber-covered bottom and moved to Scarlet, while other purchasers assailed Prancer. 

Thighs were spread, calves were gripped, breasts were fondled and nipples tweaked. All in attendance seemed to approve of the new bits, paying no attention to the ponies that had to wear them. The ponies said nothing and stood still under this embarrassing and invasive inspection. They were getting to know their position and they took respite where they could, licking their lips and swallowing, moving from one hoof to the other. The bidders ignored their discomfort and simply appreciated the intricate bondage that they were subjected to – the ponies were ponies after all, not humans with feelings!

After half an hour the bidders returned to their seats, satisfied at having a good feel of all the merchandise. The ponies were brought to the front, bathed in sweat and hot under the lights – now resigned and perhaps almost wanting it to be over with. They were dribbling copiously from their chins and the latex suits shone brightly under the hot lights. Their calves were now sore and their arms tired in the severe back prayer position 

Who would buy them? There was no order in the bidding; you made a bid for each one, or as a job lot. This made it very complicated at the start but soon it became apparent that each would be purchased separately and they would probably not be seeing each other for much longer. They would go their own way; maybe to see each other again in the future or maybe never again. Maybe they would meet new fellow ponies at their ranches and stables, and somehow try to make friends; that would make their future lives a little more tolerable.

 One thing was certain, their lives was mapped out for them by others; they were not human beings; they were ponies to be ringed and rubberised, plugged and punished, dressed, bitted and hoofed and then ridden and raced. The sooner they understood that, the sooner they would accept their destiny.
 
 
 
 
 

31.08.05