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Copyright 2001 by Rod Harden All rights reserved |
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The intercom buzzed just as Candi leaned over her typewriter to erase a mistake. She jumped back, startled, then laughed to herself and pressed the button to speak. "Yes, Mr. Henderson?" she asked.
"Come in here Candi." "Yes, Mr. Henderson." She opened the door to Henderson's office and stepped in. He was leaning back in his chair, studying the contents of a file. His brow was furrowed. "Candi," he began, "I need you to do a little-" He stopped short as he looked up. "What the hell is that?" "What?" she asked, looking around. "What you're wearing." "Oh, this? It's my new dress, sir," she said brightly. "Do you like it?" She smiled and posed for him. "No," he snapped. "I don't. It's not at all flattering. Shapeless." Candi's expression fell. "But it's the latest thing. It's called a tent dress." "Tent is right," he huffed. He stared at her for a moment, then sighed. His scowl softened. "Look, Doll, you've got a nice figure. Why would you want to wear something that covers it up like that?" "But I thought it was cute." "Well, I don't like it. And I don't think it's appropriate for the office." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Here," he said, tossing a fifty dollar bill on the desk. "Go out and buy something that looks nice. And don't wear any more tents to work." "Yes, sir." She stepped forward to pick up the money. "Just a minute," he said, placing his hand over hers. His eyes glinted as a crooked smile formed on his lips. "Take it off right now." "Mr. Henderson?" "The dress. Take it off." "Why, Mr. Henderson!" She straightened up and tried to look shocked, but her effort to suppress a smile lasted only a couple seconds. "Right away, sir," she said with a laugh. She closed the office door, then turned and reached behind her to work the zipper. "Here, Doll, let me help," he said, motioning to her. She stepped around the desk and turned her back to him. He reached out, but instead of taking the zipper, he placed his hands on her shoulders and began giving her an impromptu massage. "Oh, that feels nice, Mr. Henderson," she cooed. "Well. I don't want you to think I'm angry with you. I just don't understand women's fashion sometimes." "It's okay, sir. I understand. You want me to look nice around the office." "Yes." His hands came together behind her neck and he began pulling the zipper down slowly. "But, sir, what will I wear to go shopping for my new dress?" He chuckled. "Oh, I suppose you can put the tent back on for that." With the zipper fully opened, he gently guided the dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She turned and put her arms around his neck. Rising on her tiptoes, she gave him a soft kiss. "You take such good care of me." Her voice was barely a whisper. He pulled her closer. "But sir," she protested weakly. "Wasn't there something else you called me in for?" "Oh yes. Of course. I suppose we really ought to get back to work." He pursed his lips, stepped back and let his narrowed gaze roam up and down her body. She stood patiently, arms at her sides, as he appraised her. Dressed only in her basic white bra, panties, and garter belt, a slight shiver ran through her. The cups of her bra, formed into sharp peaks, rose and fell as her breathing became gradually deeper under his scrutiny. At last, he winked at her, sat down and patted his lap. Candi smiled and sat as invited, putting her arms around his neck again. Henderson took the folder he had been looking at when she came in. Holding it open with his arms circling her waist, he looked like he might be reading a bedtime story to a child. "There are a few things-" He paused to kiss her shoulder. "... A few things I need you to-" He stopped again, this time stretching up to nibble at her neck. "Mr. Henderson!" she scolded. "You're never going to spit it out at this rate." They both laughed, then joined lips in a long, probing kiss. Candi moaned as she ran her fingers through his hair. Henderson slipped a hand under one of the pointed cups of her bra. The folder fell to the floor. Just at that moment, the door to the office flew open. A severe-looking woman stormed in and stood in front of the desk. Candi and Henderson both looked up, surprised by the sudden intrusion. "Mrs. Henderson!" Candi gasped. Mrs. Henderson gazed pointedly at the half-naked secretary. Her thin lips were a straight line, neither smiling nor frowning. One of her drawn-on eyebrows raised itself. "Well!" she said. "I can see I'm not interrupting anything important." "What do you want, Grace?" asked Henderson, his tone crisp with impatience. Mrs. Henderson glanced from Candi to her husband and back again. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly as she forced a smile to her lips. "I want to borrow your secretary this afternoon, Thomas." She looked at Candi as she spoke. "Whatever for?" He shook his head. "No. It's out of the question. I need her to do a few things for me today." "Yes-- So I see." Mrs. Henderson's eyelids began fluttering anew as she again apprised the situation. "Nevertheless, I want her to accompany me to a-- society function." She abruptly stopped blinking and turned to look at her husband. Her harsh stare seemed to drill right into him. "I'm sure whatever you think you need her for can wait. Mine can't. Well, Thomas?" Henderson drummed his fingers on the desk. He sighed heavily, a slight tremolo apparent in his breath. "Fine," he said at last. "Which-- function is it anyway?" Mrs. Henderson cocked her head in mock surprise. "Why, it's August fifth, Tommy," she said. "The JW Society's annual race is this afternoon." As the two discussed her fate for the day, Candi slipped off Henderson's lap and began to pull on her dress. "Oh, what a lovely tent dress, my dear" said Mrs. Henderson. "That will do fine until we get there." "Do you really like it, Mrs. Henderson?" "No. I was just saying that. It's hideous, but it will do. Until we get there. I'll pick you up 11:30ish." She turned on her heels and was gone as suddenly as she'd appeared. Candi looked at Henderson as she struggled to zip her dress. "Going to the races sounds kind of fun. Do you know what the JW Society is, Mr. Henderson?" He sighed again. "I'm afraid I do, Candi. But I think it best if you find out for yourself." It was 11:30 on the dot when Mrs. Henderson's driver walked into the office. He stood in front of Candi's desk for a moment. "Excuse me," he said. "I'm looking for a Miss Candace...?" "Darling. I'm Candi Darling." "Mrs. Henderson is waiting." He turned at once and strolled down the hall to call the elevator as Candi snatched up her purse and hurried after him. At the street, he opened the back door and held Candi's arm as she got in next to Mrs. Henderson. He closed the door, hurried around to the front and slid in. The front seat was separated from the back with a thick pane of glass. Candi looked around excitedly as the car pulled into traffic. "This is so groovy, Mrs. Henderson. Thanks for inviting me." "My pleasure, Candi." "So, what is this JW Society, anyway?" "Oh, it's just an informal group really. We get together to honor the memory of John Alexander Coutts. He passed away on this date a few years ago." "Wow. He must have been a pretty important man." "To a certain group of followers, yes, he was." Candi sat quietly for a moment before turning to Mrs. Henderson with a puzzled look on her face. "But-- why do you call it the 'JW Society'? Why not the JAC Society or something like that?" Mrs. Henderson smiled broadly. "What a perceptive girl, you are. No wonder Thomas keeps you around. It's called 'JW' because Mr. Coutts was more popularly known by the name John Willie." "Oh, I see." "He was a writer and artist, and had many-- interesting notions on a sport similar to harness racing." "Cool. I love watching the horses pull those little carts around the track. It's boss." Mrs. Henderson nodded, her eyelids fluttering. "Yes," she said. "The horses." Candi watched the city pass by, the urban clutter gradually thinning into broad country expanse. She turned to Mrs. Henderson again. "I didn't know there was a race track out this way." "It's a private track, dear. Invitation only." "Oh. I see." "I don't think it's much farther." She pushed a button to speak to the driver. "How much longer Eric?" "Just a few minutes, ma'am."
A Day At The Races
Mrs. Henderson released the button and sat back. She glanced over at Candi. "You've been sitting way over there the whole trip, Candi. Come. Sit closer." Candi scooted over, casually swinging her right leg over her left. "What did I tell you about crossing your legs, young lady?"
"Oh, right. Sorry."
The older woman slipped her arm around Candi's slim waist. "It's been a while since our little luncheon at the club."
"Yes, Mrs. Henderson."
"Apparently you've forgotten what I told you to call me also."
Though physically smaller than Candi, Mrs. Henderson seemed larger, more imposing. She held Candi in a commanding gaze. The younger woman swallowed, shrunk back slightly. "You're right, I guess I did forget-- Mistress."
"Much better." Mrs. Henderson pressed another button causing an opaque panel to slide over the glass between the front and back seats. At the same time, shades lowered over the windows. She took Candi's head in both hands and pulled her closer. "Now, give Mistress a kiss."
Candi struggled briefly, but soon she sighed and melted into the onslaught of lips and tongue. When they paused for a breath, she stammered, "Mrs. Hender- I mean, Mistress, I don't think we have time right now."
"Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Eric will just park and wait. He knows to be discreet when the shades are down." She pulled Candi back to her. "Anyway I just want a taste for now." She kissed the younger woman again. At the same time, she took Candi's hand and guided it toward the hem of her own skirt. "Touch me, Candi," she hissed.
Candi slipped her hand up Mrs. Henderson's skirt, past the top of her hose, along the elastic garter. Both women moaned. Candi's eyes widened. "You forgot to wear panties again, Mistress!" she gasped, smiling.
"How careless of me. Yes, that's it, dear. Use those lovely long fingers! Reach. Yes. Touch. Ah!" Mrs. Henderson leaned back, her lips twitching. She sucked in short puffs of breath without appearing to breathe out. She held it for a moment, then released it all in a long quavering sigh.
"That will do for now, Candi." She pressed the button to speak to Eric. "How much longer?"
"We've been here for a few minutes now, ma'am."
Mrs. Henderson chuckled. "All right. Thanks, Eric." She hit the other button to raise the shades and lower the interior panel. Candi sat up and looked about, as she adjusted her hair. The car was parked in a lot in front of a large field. The field was surrounded by a short fence of whitewashed wood.
On a path just outside the field, a woman was riding up on a horse. The rider had long, dark, flowing hair. She wore tan jodhpurs and riding boots, along with a dark riding jacket over a white blouse. The horse was a thoroughbred, jet black from nose to tail.
Candi looked back to Mrs. Henderson excitedly. "What a beautiful horse! Is this the type that'll be racing today?"
"Not exactly, dear. But I assure you, we'll see some magnificent fillies today."
Eric got out and opened the doors for Mrs. Henderson and Candi. The rider dismounted and approached. As she walked, she tapped the end of a riding crop against her palm.
"Grace!" the woman said as she embraced Mrs. Henderson. "I knew you'd make it."
"Of course, Emma. I wouldn't miss the race for anything." Mrs. Henderson motioned toward Candi. "This is the girl I was telling you about. Tommy's latest."
Emma resumed tapping the crop in her hand as she circled Candi slowly. "Yes, she really is quite nice," said Emma. She stopped behind Candi and held the crop out, touching Candi's shoulder with it. Slowly, she traced the side of Candi's body with it, pushing in the full dress to reveal her figure. "This dress has to go, of course."
"Of course," agreed Mrs. Henderson. Candi stood still, quietly sucking on her lip.
Emma tucked the end of the riding crop under the hem of Candi's dress and lifted the material until her thighs and buttocks were completely exposed.
"Oh!" exclaimed Candi. She tried to push her dress back down, but Emma swatted her hands away with the crop.
"Be still, girl," she said, impatiently. To Mrs. Henderson she said, "Very nice legs. Mr. Willie would have like this one."
"Oh! Did you know John Willie?" asked Candi.
"Not well. I only met him once, but we corresponded for a while." Emma looked past Candi. "Ah. I see your ride to the stables is here."
Candi turned and stared. Her mouth hung open. The approaching carriage was not pulled by horses, but by two women. Candi stepped back as her eyes darted from detail to detail of the scene before her.
Both women were scantily dressed. Their main attire seemed to be shiny black leather corsets. They wore boots with incredibly high heels. The boots extended well past their knees, flaring out at the thighs.
More unusual though, was the headgear worn by both women. It could only be described as the human equivalent of a horse's bridle. Leather straps circled the women's heads holding metal bits in place between their teeth. The square flaps of blinders were secured by additional straps at their foreheads. Reins extended from both women's bridles back to the driver of the carriage. And from the back of each woman's head there rose tall, feathery plumes.
Candi turned from the women to Mrs. Henderson to Emma and back to Mrs. Henderson. "What's?" was all she managed to say.
Emma laughed. "Oh, Grace! You said you were going to surprise her and I see that you have. Candi, don't forget to blink, dear girl!"
Mrs. Henderson laughed also. "They're called ponygirls, Candi, and these two are just the tip of the iceberg around here today. Now, come along. The race starts soon and we still have to get you changed."
Candi let Mrs. Henderson guide her toward the waiting carriage. As she approached, Candi noticed a couple other details of the ponygirls' accouterment. When she first saw them, they appeared to have their arms bent at their sides as a person does when running. But on closer inspection, she saw that each wore leather cuffs on their wrists and elbows. The elbow cuffs were joined by a length of thin chain behind their backs while the wrist cuffs were joined in front. The effect was to force them to keep their arms in that position at all times.
Mrs. Henderson helped Candi up into the carriage. It was little more than a racing sulky, having only two wheels, but with a wider, padded seat, and a back and arm rests. Candi sat on one side of the driver while Mrs. Henderson climbed in on the other side. The seat was barely wide enough for the three of them.
The driver turned to Candi, offering his hand. "Hello, little lady. My name's Ralph. These two," he motioned with his head to indicate the harnessed women, "are Lizzy Long Legs, and Wiggle My Ass." As he mentioned the names, first one, then the other of the women stomped their legs and jostled their reins just like horses.
Ralph flicked the reins and the women leaned into their harness, straining against the weight of three people in the carriage. Soon though, they were trotting quickly along the track. Candi stared at them the whole way. They ran with strong, high steps, skin glistening like the polished leather of their corsets.
Still looking at the ponygirls, Candi asked, "Who are they? Do they actually like doing this? Don't they ever talk?"
Ralph nodded. "Oh, they're just girls like you. This is how they get their jollies. But don't expect them to talk to you while they're dressed up like this. This isn't Mr. Ed, you know."
When they came to the stables, Mrs. Henderson got down, and led Candi from the carriage. Inside were dozens more women dressed like ponies. The basics were the same for all of them, but Candi noticed many variations. Some wore strappy shoes with fishnet stockings instead of thigh-boots. Some had their arms bound behind them with thick leather straps. A couple even seemed to have tails.
Candi pointed to one of the girls with a tail. "Mistress, how is the tail attached? It doesn't look like there's a strap or anything."
Mrs. Henderson smiled and patted Candi on the ass. "Let's just say that she gets an extra buzz when she runs."
"Oh!"
They came to an empty stall. "Here we are. Time to get you into something more appropriate for the occasion."
Candi stared at the array of straps and odd clothing and shrank back. "Mistress, you don't expect me to pull one of those carts?"
"Of course not, my dear. Those girls have been trained for this for a long time. However, you are to be dressed like them."
"Thank goodness, because I don't think I could do that. But it might be fun dressing up like a pony."
"Yes, quite. You're a lovely little filly, might as well dress the part. Now remove that horrible dress."
"Yes, Mistress."
The corset Mrs. Henderson selected for Candi looked too small, but she managed to squeeze the girl into it. Candi looked down at her squashed breasts which seemed ready to burst over the top of the corset. "Wow!" she said. "My tits look really boss like this."
Mrs. Henderson nodded. "Indeed they do." She ran her finger along Candi's shoulder, then down into her cleavage. "They feel quite wonderful as well."
Candi moaned. "Oh, yes, Mistress. They do." After slipping on a pair of fishnet hose, she glanced around, her expression now one of eager anticipation. "What are you going to put on me next?"
"Let's pick out some shoes." Both women studied the row of footwear along the wall. Among all the black heels and boots, one pair of red pumps stuck out noticeably.
Candi looked at Mrs. Henderson. "They don't have to be black, do they?"
Mrs. Henderson smiled. "No, dear, they don't. Go ahead and try them on."
Candi giggled as she slipped her feet into the red pumps. "Wow! These heels are a lot higher than I'm used to." She looked up, smiling brightly. "They fit!"
"Excellent. Now for your bridle."
"But I thought you said I wouldn't have to pull a cart."
"You don't, Candi, but you wouldn't be much of a pony without a bridle, now, would you?"
"Oh. No. You're right, Mistress."
"Of course I am. Here." She selected a bridle with a multicolored plume and began buckling the straps around Candi's head. "There. How does that feel?"
"Weird," said Candi, her speech somewhat slurred by the thin metal rod between her teeth. "But kind of cool, too. What about my hands?"
"Yes, your hands." Mrs. Henderson slipped a pair of cuffs on Candi's wrists and locked them together in front of her. "Now you fit right in." She took the reins and began leading her out of the stables.
Candi stumbled almost immediately. She caught herself, stood up straight and took another cautious step. "Sorry, Mistress," she murmured across the bit. "I'm not used to these shoes."
Several stumbles later, they came to the a small stand of seats on one side of the track. A temporary canopy covered the seats. Mrs. Henderson led Candi to a section of seating where Emma waited. She had changed from her riding outfit into a business suit not unlike the one Mrs. Henderson wore. Together, they indicated that Candi should sit between them.
"Candi, you look so hot like that," said Emma.
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Excellent manners, too, Grace."
"Yes," agreed Mrs. Henderson. "If nothing else, my husband does tend to train his girls well."
On the track, a half dozen sulkies were lined up, each occupied by a colorfully dressed jockey. The ponygirls hitched to the carts wore numbered panels, front and back, in addition to their leather straps and corsets. Of the dozens of ponygirls Candi had seen in the stable, only these six were on the track. The rest were seated in the stands like Candi next to a well-dressed man or woman, or both.
Emma leered at Candi as Ralph announced the odds on the day's race. "Grace," she said, still looking at Candi. "I know just the thing that will really make my day." She leaned down and picked up something that had been stowed under her seat.
Mrs. Henderson glanced over. Her eyes lit up. "Oh yes!" she said. "Excellent idea."
Candi turned to see what Emma had. It was a small rectangular leather panel from which dangled buckling straps. But more significantly, rubber phalluses were attached to both sides of the panel. One of the dildos was only a couple inches long, but the other was at least seven or eight inches. They stuck out from the panel, pointing in opposite directions.
Before Candi could ask what the strange device was for, Mrs. Henderson had unbuckled her bridle, and Emma was lifting the smaller of the phalluses toward her mouth. "What the-" Her question was cut short as Emma worked the dildo between her surprised lips. At the same time, Mrs. Henderson took the strap and buckled it behind Candi's head.
"That's right, Candi," cooed Emma. "The short one goes in your sweet mouth. And the long one-- well..." She leaned back, pulling her skirt up and thrusting her hips out.
Candi stared. "Doesn't anyone wear panties around here?" she asked. Her words were garbled and mostly incoherent as she tried to talk around the bitter rubber cock filling her mouth. Mrs. Henderson pushed Candi to her knees and forced her between Emma's spread legs.
Emma pulled Candi closer and closer. The atmosphere became suddenly sweltering between her thighs. Candi inhaled deeply, almost swooning from the heady incense. The phallus sticking out from her face drew nearer and nearer to Emma's gleaming pink slit. She was so slick, the dry dildo slipped in easily. Candi and Emma moaned in unison.
"Move your head back and forth, dear. That's it. Fuck me with your whole head!"
Using her still-cuffed hands to balance herself, Candi thrust her entire upper body into it. In the distance, the sounds of the race starting became dim next to Emma's growing sighs and moans. She grasped Candi by the hair and began working her head like a toy, controlling the speed and strength of Candi's efforts. Soon Emma began spasming. She pulled Candi's head sharply against her, gyrating and bucking her hips into the helpless girl's face.
Emma gasped, then collapsed in her chair, releasing Candi from her grasp. Candi sat back on her heels looking somewhat dazed. She glanced at Mrs. Henderson questioningly. "Yes, my dear," said the older woman. "It's my turn now." Candi's shoulders sagged a bit, then she shrugged, shuffled on her knees over to Mrs. Henderson's spread thighs, and dove in.
Soon, Mrs. Henderson was sitting back like Emma, out of breath, looking spent and satisfied. Candi fell away from her, sprawling out on the ground at her feet. The younger woman lay there, massaging her own breasts which had been freed from their snug confines in the corset during her exertions. Then she slid her hands down and began rubbing her clit, quickly bringing herself over the edge amidst muted animalistic grunts.
Emma watched Candi masturbate, smiling and nodding to herself. Afterward, she leaned down and helped Candi sit up, then unbuckled the contraption from around her head. As Emma gently pried the dildo from Candi's mouth, she looked at Mrs. Henderson. "Grace," she laughed, "we missed the whole thing. The race is over."
"Oh damn!" said Mrs. Henderson, smoothing out her skirt. "Who won?"
Candi grimaced as she licked her lips. "That was fun, but it tasted pretty yucky," she said. She got into her seat, took the bridle, and began strapping it on herself again.
"Wonder's Woman," said Emma, ignoring Candi's comment.
"Oh well," said Mrs. Henderson. "I lost five on this one."
"You bet five dollars on the race?" asked Candi, her words more understandable with the bit in her mouth instead of the dildo.
"Five thousand, dear. We make friendly wagers. Not insulting ones."
"Oh."
The three women sat quietly for a while, watching the winner trot around the track for her victory lap. Candi glanced around the seats. Most of the other ponygirls in the stands were as disheveled as Candi. "Did anyone actually watch the race?" she wondered aloud.
Mrs. Henderson laughed. "Perhaps a few." She stroked Candi's hair and sighed. "Well, I suppose I should return you to my husband now."
"Yes, Mistress, you probably should. He did have an important assignment for me today. Really."
"I'm sure he did."
Later, back at the office, Candi hurried in and closed the door. "Oh, Mr. Henderson! I had so much fun at the races with your wife."
"Really?" he looked up, bemused.
"You wouldn't believe what kind of race it is."
"Oh, I know, Doll."
"Mrs. Henderson sure has some interesting friends."
"I suppose that's one word for them."
"She told me about this guy, John Willie, and I got to be a pony, which was really groovy, but they didn't make me pull a cart, which was good, 'cause I don't think I could've done it." She paused for a breath. "But, you know, sir, it left me feeling kind of-- I don't know. I wished you were there. I wanted you to-- you know."
Henderson smiled. "Yes, I believe I do. Take off that tent again, and we'll pick up where we left off."
"Yes sir!" she said happily. "And, Mr. Henderson?"
"Yes, Candi?" he prompted as he pulled her partially clad body onto his lap again.
"Would you come and help me pick out my new dress?"
"Hm," he said. "I don't know. What's in it for me?"
She grinned wickedly, stroking the firm bulge in his trousers. "Really, Mr. Henderson! You know I don't like being called 'it'."
A Day At The Races |