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A TEAM OF CORPORATE WIVES
Number Four’s brother got out of the hospital and she came back and we were a team once again. We settled into our normal routine. We finished spring plowing and went into training for an upcoming pony show. Mistress Karen decided to enter female teams in dressage and races and she entered one male team for racing and the other for the strength competitions. She also entered some of us in individual. Number Two and I would be running solo and so were a couple of girls from other teams including Valerie from the princesses. My team and a team of weekenders were going to compete in racing and dressage, so was Mistress Donna’s team. Since we were entered in both competitions we had to train extra hard.
In the mornings Mistress Eve had us rehearse our dressage routines and in the afternoons we ran. Mistress Eve has been sent to classes on physical fitness so she knew how long to work us and when to give us a rest. We were given plenty of healthy food and lots of water during the day. I would have liked to train alone for my solo race but we just didn’t have time. Under the tight regimen we toned up even more than normal, and the nice thing about being in training was being allowed to soak in the whirlpool tubs and receiving long massages in the evenings. We were even exempted from torture as long as we behaved.
It was unusual to have a weekend team in the competition. They usually aren’t in proper condition and most temporary ponies are not disciplined enough to stick to the training schedule. This team was different.
They had been coming to the farm for over a year, and were quite popular with other guests. They came on their own, without a master so a mistress would be assigned to them for the weekend. They came more for exhibition than discipline and they loved to parade in front of the other visitors. They were about the same age; their early thirties and they even resembled each other somewhat.
They were all from the same neighborhood in Hollywood and had drifted into pony slavery out of boredom. Rumor had it that their husbands were big shot corporate executives, who ignored them. They were all beautiful in a polished plastic sort of way and it was easy to imagine them as rich men’s wives, lounging at the pool at the country club or shopping on Rodeo Drive. We called them ‘The Barbie Dolls’ and ‘The Valley Girls’. They looked like typical empty headed trophy wives but we discovered that there was more to those women than met the eye.
They like pulling chariots for masters or visiting mistresses and enjoyed being auctioned off, and they talked Mistress Karen into selling them in the early afternoon so they could spend more time with their temporary owners. Sometimes because of the novelty they might be purchased by a single master or mistress. The weekend team didn’t mind except that few mistresses could keep them all busy or contented. The same with masters, a male who got his hands on those women would screw himself to exhaustion, and the slaves would have to wait until he woke up. The poor things got bored.
They trained to be a plow team, which was actually a waste of time because the minute they were brought out of the barn the gusts starting bidding on them, and no one wanted to waste time hooking them to a plow.
The Barbies begged Mistress Karen to let them run in the races. She was reluctant but they begged to run a demonstration course for her. She hooked them to a racing sulky, sat down and set them off, and they tore around the race track at top speed. They completed four laps without slacking off. My team was at the barn when this happened and got to watch. The Barbies didn’t run with the fluid teamwork that experienced teams have, and they didn’t break any records but we were impressed. So was Mistress Karen. She gave them two weeks to prove themselves.
They came back and ran another trial and showed a terrific improvement. Their times improved and so had their coordination. They stood breathing lightly after running, (and their boobies bounced most enticingly) and they vowed that they would be faster by the time of the show.
They couldn’t spend the nights at the farm but showed up early every morning ready to train. They worked hard and we had to admit that they seemed determined to win.
We usually don’t get to know the weekend ponies. There just isn’t much time to visit with weekenders, but this group was different. One afternoon we were taking a break together and had a chance to talk. The mistresses were a few yards away but the Barbies had already learned the secret language. Their names are Dana, Allison, Madison, and Brittany. (Honest, I’m not making that up).
“How is it that you girls want to run in a race?” I asked.
“Just to do it,” Brittany answered.
“It breaks up the boredom,” Allison said.
“Bored wives, eh?” Number Two asked, knowingly.
“You said it.”
“Is this something to get your husbands’ attention?” Number Three asked.
“We’ve given up on that,” Dana answered.
“Do they know that you are ponies?”
“Yes.”
“Are they masters?” I asked.
“No.”
“And they don’t object?”
“They aren’t interested in pony girls, or slaves, or us for that matter,” Allison said.
“And they don’t mind that you come here?” I asked. “Do they know you have sex with visitors?”
Kate nodded. “They don’t care as long as we don’t create a scandal.”
“Wow,” Number Two whispered.
“Our husbands are executives at the same company,” Madison said. “They don’t care what we do as long as we don’t embarrass them with the board of directors.”
“They live the corporate life,” Brittany said bitterly. “They make enormous salaries and live in huge houses. They give us lots of spending money and we are expected to look nice, be charming and laugh at the big bosses’ jokes, other than that they don’t give us a second thought.”
“Our husbands play golf and they fly out every weekend to visit some golf course around the country,” Allison said.
“Whew,” Three said. “Are they meeting other women?”
“I used to think they were,” Madison said. “So I hired a private detective to watch them. He tailed them for six weekends in a row and told us that our husbands never did anything with women, all they did was play golf.”
“Well, maybe that’s good after all,” I said.
“Nope,” Dana said. “I can compete with another woman.”
“Are they perhaps gay with each other?” Number Three asked.
“I used to wonder about that,” Dana said. “And I honestly don’t know. After a while I stopped caring.” The others nodded.
“So you became pony girls?” Number Two asked.
“Not right away,” Brittany said. “I started having affairs with men.”
“Me too,” Allison chimed in.
“We all did,” Dana said. “And one day I was driving back from a weekend in Las Vegas when I passed one of the brothels outside of town.”
“Uh oh,” Four whispered. “I think I know what’s coming next.”
“That’s right,” Dana said. “I stopped my car, went inside and asked for a job.”
“In a whore house?”
“In a shabby whore house made up of run down old house trailers.”
“And they hired you?”
“Why wouldn’t they?” she demanded. “Don’t you think I have the looks?”
“No, no!” Four gasped. “I meant that you look too classy for a place like that.”
“I’m just kidding,” Dana laughed. “And trust me, some of those women look classier than I do.”
“Oh.”
“After Dana went to work at the Pigeon Ranch we decided to join her,” Madison said. “We all became whores.”
“It sounds like a tired plot in a cable television porn movie, doesn’t it?” Allison said.”
“Uh, did you like the work?” Number Three asked.
“Sure did,” Madison said. “The sex is usually great.”
“Sometimes it was good, sometimes it wasn’t,” Brittany said. “But when I was screwing some stranger I thought to myself: ‘fuck you David’ at every thrust.”
“David would be your husband,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Did you enjoy the sex,” Two asked.
“Sure, most of the time, but the best thing was greeting my husband when I came home with cum from several men in my pussy, and the more the better.”
“Wow, that’s pretty heavy,” Number Four said.
“We began traveling to Vegas together for the weekends,” Allison said. “We told out husbands that we were shopping and taking in the shows. They didn’t question that for a second.”
“And you were actually working in a brothel?” Two asked.
“Yep.”
“Did your husbands ever find out?”
“No, and I almost wish they had,” she answered.
“We came close to throwing it all in their faces once,” Dana said.
“What happened?”
“The corporation hosted a conference in Las Vegas and all the big shots were there, including our husbands.”
“Did they visit your, , uh, place of business?” Three asked.
“No, but that would have great if they had,” Dana said.
“I’d have given anything to see the look on my husband’s face when he saw me in the lineup wearing nothing but panties and heels,” Allison said, “And the look on his boss’s face.”
“Um hmm,” Madison agreed.
“But they didn’t come to the brothel. They aren’t that kind of men and we didn’t expect them to, so we dressed up like hookers and went to their hotel,” Brittany said.
“We went to the cocktail lounge to see if we could pick up some customers,” Allison added.
“Ah, and to let your husbands see you at work, right?” I said.
“Exactly.”
“What happened?”
“We were advertising quite blatantly and were getting some nibbles from men when all the corporate executives walked in.”
“How were you advertising?” Four asked curiously.
“We walked in swinging our bottoms,” Allison said. “We didn’t make eye contact with anyone, then we took a booth and sat facing the room.”
“Ah, I get it,” Four said, “Legs wide apart?”
“Not wide apart,” Dana told her, “Just slightly.”
“In a five star hotel a girl has to be slightly more subtle,” Brittany said.
“We just crossed and uncrossed our legs a lot,” Madison said. “And if a man looked interested we’d give him a brief glance, then drop our eyes quickly.”
“Then count to five and look at him again,” Dana added.
“It sounds like there is some kind of formula for that?” Two laughed.
“Pretty much,” Madison agreed. “Would you like to learn the whole system?”
“No, I prefer the direct method,” Two said. “Just put me on the auction block and let the men bid for me. It saves a lot of time and verbal game playing.”
“True,” Dana agreed, “Just like the lineup at the brothel.”
“So, how did you do?” Three asked.
“Pretty good, all the men were eyeing us and table full of men had sent us a bottle of champagne. We were about to join them when our husbands and their bosses walked in,” Madison said. “Unfortunately the timing was off slightly.”
“Why is that?”
“The big boss saw us, assumed that we were on a shopping trip, and insisted that we join them.”
“Oh no,” Three laughed.
“Yeah, thirty seconds later and they’d have seen us getting cozy with those men,” Dana said. “I wanted my husband to watch me walk out with a stranger; instead we had to join the whole damn executive team for dinner.”
“Yes, but on the way out I stopped at the table and asked one of the men to write his phone number down,” Madison said.
“Did the big boss see you do that?” Three asked.
“No, unfortunately, but I smiled at hubby as I tucked it into my cleavage.”
“What did he do?” Number Three asked.
“Nothing, but the look on his face was priceless.”
“Our husbands didn’t even notice our miniskirts and spike heels,” Brittany said.
“Or that none of us were wearing underwear,” Allison complained.
“But the other men did,” Dana said. “After dinner we were invited to the CEO’s suite for cocktails. I sat across from the big boss and let him look up my skirt all evening long.”
“Did you screw him?” I asked.
“I let him corner me in the hallway for a few minutes,” she said. “He slipped his hand up my skirt and played with my pussy.”
“Did you screw him?” I repeated
“I was tempted,” she answered. “But he would have assumed that I was doing it to help my husband’s career, and that’s the last thing I wanted to do. Luckily someone came along and I made a break for it.”
“I, on the other hand would love to seduce the big boss while hubby was in the next room,” Allison said. “I’d like to walk out of the bedroom tugging my skirt down and give my husband a big kiss with his boss’s cum still on my lips.”
“I’d like to screw three or four of the big bosses at once,” Brittany said. “And make a lot of noise while doing it.”
“Are you a bedroom squealer?” Two asked.
“It depends on my customer,” Brittany said. “I can put on a big show if I want to, and if my husband were in the next room you can bet that I’d let him know that I’m enjoying myself.”
“I have a fantasy about being naked under the table at a board meeting and sucking every cock one by one,” Madison said, “All but my husband’s.”
“Pretty cool,” I said.
“And just before the meeting starts I’d have a secretary deliver a note to him telling him where I am and what I’m doing. The note would tell him to watch the faces of the other men while I make them cum.”
“Jesus!” gasped Number Three.
“That happens a lot at dinners here,” I told her. “You could invite your husbands and their bosses, then let them see you crawl under a table.”
“Yes, either their table, or someone else’s,” Four laughed.
“Hmm, now that sounds interesting,” Brittany mused.
“Why did you decide to become pony girls?” I asked.
“I had a customer who was into bondage,” Madison said. “One evening after tying me to the bed, he told me about pony girls. He talked about it while he fucked me and it sounded interesting.”
“You liked bondage?” Four asked.
“I sure did.”
“Me too,” added Dana. “I like being helpless.”
“Did you all do bondage at the whore house?” I asked.
“Of course,” Allison said, “What ever the customer wants.”
The others nodded.
“Anyway I told the others about pony girls,” Madison went on.
“We checked into it,” Dana said. “It looked intriguing.”
“We watched some pony movies,” Allison said. “They weren’t very realistic but we did more research and heard about the farm. Dana and I came here and Karen, oops, I mean ‘Mistress Karen’, showed us around and we decided to give it a try.”
“Did you expect all the lesbianism?” Two asked.
“Mistress Karen was very clear about warning us,” Madison said, “Not that it bothered us.”
“Yes, we’d already done lots of it in the whore house,” Allison said.
“With female clients?”
“No, women rarely come to the brothel,” Brittany said, “But male customers like to watch two women together.”
“Or more than two, if they can afford it,” Dana said.
“You’ve had sex with each other?”
“Sure, and with the other girls too.”
“Have all four of you had sex together?”
“Not at the brothel,” Dana said. “But since coming here we’ve done it a few times.”
“Not to mention at home,” Madison giggled.
“Do you tie each other up?” Four asked.
“Sometimes.”
“Hmmmm,” Three murmured. “Can I come play too?”
“Sure.”
“What about the punishment?” I asked. “Are you all masochists?”
“We got an occasional spanking from clients at the whorehouse,” Dana said, “But nothing very intense.”
“Not like the torture we get here,” Brittany added. “It’s for real here.”
“Yes,” Madison said. “It took some getting used to.”
“I didn’t like it at first,” Dana said. “But we watched a regular pony girl take a whipping and she seemed to enjoy it.”
“She had a terrific orgasm so I figured that there had to be something in it,” Brittany added. “So we decided to let the mistresses whip us.”
“And you learned to like it?” Three asked.
Dana nodded. “It took a while, but I grew to enjoy it.”
“It was the same for me,” Allison said. She turned to me. “And by the way, the woman we watched was you.”
I took a bow.
“How about you?” Three asked Brittany.
“I had an orgasm the first time a whip touched my body,” she said.
“So now instead of a pussy full of cum, you go home with whip marks on your body?” Two laughed.
“Sometimes both,” Brittany grinned. “I pretend to hide the marks but I make sure that my husband gets a peek at them.”
“And I like to have big finger bruises on my boobs,” Madison added.
“Does your husband ask about them?”
“He did at first, but I told him that I’m not permitted to talk about what happens at the farm,” she giggled. “He didn’t like hearing that.”
“My fantasy is to be branded,” Dana said. “I can’t wait to see the look on my husband’s face when he sees it.”
“Getting branded can be very painful,” Three warned, “And it’s permanent.”
“I know,” Dana wriggled.
“What kind of brand?” Two asked.
“How about ‘Property of Hell’s Angels’?” Brittany giggled.
“Nah, too common.”
“Or, how about ‘Property of the Pigeon Ranch’?” I suggested.
“Now that’s better,” Brittany chuckled. “But it would take up too much space.”
“Not at all,” Madison said. “You have plenty of room across your bottom to fit it in.”
Brittany stuck her tongue out at her.
“I’d want the picture of a penis,” Dana said. “I saw a tattoo like that on a woman once. It was on her breast and I thought it was wonderfully sluttish.”
“Was she one of the girls at the brothel?”
“No, she was having dinner at a truck stop near Barstow.”
“Maybe she was a truck stop hooker,” Three suggested. “They call them ‘Lot Lizards’.”
“I’ve heard the term,” Dana laughed. “But this gal wasn’t a hooker, she was a parking garage attendant.”
“How do you know?”
“I followed her into the ladies room and struck up a conversation. I asked where she got the tattoo. She gave me the name and address of the tattooist in L.A, then we talked for a while. I told her that I was a pony girl and it turned out that she likes to wear harness once in a while.”
“She’s not a full time pony?” I asked.
“No, I got the feeling that she was into a lot of different kinky things and didn’t concentrate on any one of them. She took off her blouse and showed me more tattoos.”
“Did she have a lot?” Three asked.
“Yes, she was into body modification and had tattoos and piercings all over herself. She had rings in her nipples and her labia.”
“Did she show you her entire body?”
“Every inch.”
“Did you uh, , fool around with her?” Four asked.
“I sure did,” Dana said. “She permitted me to touch her rings and that got us started. We went into a stall and played with each other’s pussy until we came.”
“Hmm, very interesting,” Four said.
“It was very sluttish,” Dana giggled. “I loved it, especially when other women came in and made nasty remarks about us.”
“Did you get tattooed?” I asked.
“No, not yet.”
“I’d rather be branded with some man’s initials,” Madison said. “And if my husband asks whose they are I wouldn’t tell him. I’d let him stew over it.”
“Where would you want to be branded?” Four asked.
“On my bottom, I suppose,” Allison answered, “Just outside my panty line.”
“I like that idea too,” Allison said. “Just imagine going to cocktail parties wearing brands under our dresses.”
“Number One has been branded,” Three told them proudly.
“So we’ve heard,” Dana said. “What does it look like?”
“It’s a heart inside a horse shoe,” I told them, “Two inches wide.”
“Where is it?”
“Just above my pussy.”
Their eyes got huge.
“Really?” breathed Allison. “Can we see it?”
I glanced at the mistresses. They were several yards away chatting. Our wrists were strapped behind us, but I wriggled close to Number Two. She reached back and felt around my belly until she was able to slide my pussy strap to the side. The weekenders crowded close.
“Take it easy,” Four warned. “Don’t let the mistresses see you doing that.”
“One at a time,” I said.
Brittany was first. “Ooooh, I like that,” she breathed. “Did it hurt?”
“Ooooh, yes,” I giggled.
The others took their turns for a close look.
“Who chose the design?” Dana asked. “You, or Mistress Karen?”
“I did. I wanted to be branded with Mistress Karen’s initials but she pointed out that I might leave someday and go to someone else, so I decided on something more general. We sketched it out in her office and she had the branding iron made.”
“I agree with Dana,” Madison said. “I’d want a man’s initials to prove to my husband that I belong to someone else.”
“Me too,” Allison said.
The ladies from Hollywood admired my brand for a few minutes, then we all comported ourselves as proper ponies.
“Has it occurred to you that you might be doing this for the wrong reasons?” I asked them.
“Sure,” Allison said. “We aren’t kidding ourselves. We know we’re doing it to get back at our husbands.”
“But we still like being pony girls,” Brittany said.
“Why don’t you just divorce your husbands and move out here?” Number Three asked.
“Maybe we will someday, but for now its fun to get revenge on them.”
“Why do you want to be ponies? I asked. “Why not stay at the brothel?”
“Exhibitionism,” Dana answered. “Bondage and torture is ok, but we love to walk around naked.”
“That’s the best part,” Madison said. “I love living outdoors in the nude.”
“We might not stay here either,” Dana said. “I think we might prefer a male dominated farm. At least I would.”
The others nodded.
“You want to stay together?” I asked.
They nodded.
“Who knows,” I said. “Perhaps you’ll catch someone’s eye at the competition. If not, you could always ask Mistress Karen to put you up for sale as a team.”
“Has an entire team ever been sold?” Madison asked.
“Not from this farm,” I answered. “But I’ve heard of teams being sold at other places.”
“I’d worry that they would keep us together after someone bought us,” Dana said. “What’s to keep us from being sold again separately?”
“Put it in the sales contract,” Two said.
“It would be very exciting,” Dana mused. “To be sold together.”
“And we’d have our new master brand us close to our pussies,” said Allison. “So we could show them to our husbands when we file for divorce.”
“How about at the lawyer’s office?” I suggested, “During the settlement negotiations.”
“Oh, that would be great!” Allison laughed, “In front of our husbands and their lawyers.”
“And one more thing,” Brittany said. “I want to have rings put through our pussy lips so our new master can lead us away with chains.”
“Anything else to humiliate your husbands?” Number Four asked wryly.
“Anything and everything,” Madison said
“I’ve got an idea that I’ve been working on,” Allison said. “I haven’t told anybody about it yet.”
Everyone looked at her.
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