A loud, piercing whistle, loud enough to be heard at the most boisterous of sporting events caught everyone’s attention. The tallest of the handlers was waving them all in, back toward the terrace where the audience, now numbering over a hundred, was waiting. When the girls were close enough to see how many spectators there were, they all, without exception, shied back, obviously reluctant to be shown displayed in front of so many people. Even those like Karen or Betty, hoping that someone who recognized them would rescue her, became unsettled. That nervousness communicated itself very quickly to the other ponies and the riders had to urge, wrestle or prod them forward. As each girl moved along the fence, she was studied and assessed by a crowd of people containing a surprising number of women. At the far end of the fence each one stopped and a plume matching her shoes and chariot was inserted into pocket of her headgear. Turquoise for Karen and Chrissie who led the parade. A sweet baby blue for Alicia Brix and the large breasted Jennifer to Alicia’s right. The college professor, Mary Louise and the red haired older woman were adorned with bright red plumes. Andrea, driven by her proud black man, and Robin driven by an equally pleased youth, had white standards placed above their heads. Mother and daughter, Gloria and Susanna, were given pink. Finally Ruth Waterman and Louise Larson had their yellow headdresses installed. The entire field walked slowly in front of the patio in single file, snaked out into the grass before forming pairs. Guided back they were told to begin their high-stepping strut. Those, like Alicia, Susanna and Andrea who had, at some time in their lives, studied ballet exaggerated their gait as they passed in review and were particularly attractive. Others, like Susanna’s mother Gloria and Ruth Waterman, were naturally graceful and moved with an elegant ease. The rest did the best they could, urged on by their drivers. There was an appreciative silence as the women passed in review, their naked bodies, adorned with beads of perspiration, standing out against the brightly colored decorations on their heads and feet. The drivers all sat straight and tall, puffed and proud, as their mounts pulled them along.
After the parade they were driven up to the fence, their reins pulled over their heads, to be wound around the wooden crosspiece. With the women fixed in place, each standing in front of her number, brightly colored plumes fluttering above their heads, the whips were placed in their holders and the drivers dismounted. Directly in front of the dozen harnessed ponies, round tables, each covered in white linen, were ranged around the
flagstone patio. At the back on the left, a man and a woman finished setting up the bar and began serving drinks. Along the right side of the patio two men were beginning to arrange the luncheon buffet. A gentle breezed stirred the feathered plumes decorating each of the ponies’ heads. A tall man wearing a cowboy hat spent a long time staring at Alicia, looking her up and down, peering at her breasts and down at her legs. Moving over to the sisters he found them more to his taste. Tall women were alright but, all in all, he preferred the petite ones. There was something quite delicate and sweet about these two little girls with small, round breasts and sad eyes. He moved back along the fence studying and assessing each of the tethered ponies.
As the drivers’ friends and other interested patrons filled the patio, the atmosphere became a mixture of county fair and art museum. The drivers and spectators, some having finished their food, some still eating or drinking, moved slowly along the walkway scrutinizing the exhibits, considering, judging, comparing. The color and shape of Alicia’s breasts occasioned a good bit of interest, but in truth there was so much to look at with a dozen splendid female bodies to consider that they all drew their fair share of attention. The wooden fence, to which all the naked women were tethered, curved gently in a half circle. An onlooker standing in the apron, in front of the tables, could glance from one end of the line of ponies to the other. The women on display were necessarily silent, metal shafts holding their mouths slightly open, their faces nevertheless showing a variety of emotions ranging from acceptance to anger, from wariness to fear, and from dull acceptance to complete dismay.
Just to Alicia’s left, a young woman with short, dark brown hair and very large breasts, squirmed uncomfortably in her harness. Howard, over here.” The man standing in front of Jennifer waved an arm. “How are you, old boy?” They shook hands.
“John, it’s good to see you again,” Howard smiled.
“That’s her,” John raised an arm in her direction. “Or rather that is she. My Jennifer. Quite something, don’t you think? Roaming the forest, sporting that set of antlers, and
showed up in my office. Just like that. Walked in, offered herself up. Not exactly a sporting shot but too good a trophy not to take, don’t you think? Perhaps two good trophies.” It took a few moments but, at last, Howard smiled at the word play.
“Now you’ve seen her,” John faced his friend. “Do you want her? She’s yours if you do. All yours. No strings.” Jennifer sagged inside the leather rigging. Her eyes became dull and watery, her face a mask of utter disappointment. “Look, Howard, if you have any reservations, any reservations at all.” He paused. “I don’t want you to feel pressured here.”
“No, old man. No, of course not. But one question.”
“Certainly.”
“Why are you getting rid of her?”
“The wife. It’s the wife, you see. Found out about it. Very upset. Get rid of it, she said. Well, you know my wife, old man. Once she makes up her mind to a thing, you can’t really get her to change. Get rid of it, she said, and getting rid of it, I am.” Both men studied Jennifer’s body, one with happy anticipation and the other with deep sadness. “Too good for sport. Can’t simply send her away. Thought about it and decided you were just the man to make good use of her.”
Both men stood silently contemplating the young woman and her large breasts.
“Oh,” John said brightly. “I spoke to them and there won’t be any problem. You can certainly ride her this afternoon. They’ll give you some time to practice with her and some hints on how to handle her.”
“Very well,” Howard said. “Consider it done.”
John stood very close to Jennifer. “Remember, you promised that you would do anything I asked.” Tears were running down Jennifer’s cheeks. “Well, now I am turning you over to my friend. Understand?”
Her wail of protest, though muted by the metal bar in her mouth, was clearly audible. Several people looked up from the nearest tables. Alicia turned her head as far as she could, which was only a few inches, to glance in that direction. One of the workers unwrapped Jennifer’s reins from the fence and led her away. John watched wistfully as his friend mounted the girl’s following cart and drove her out into the field.
It was time to feed and water the ponies. One after another each of the pony girls had the long spout of a green plastic can pushed into her open mouth. The can tipped forward and a thick white fluid flowed slowly in. Only Jennifer, exercising with her new master, avoided being fed this way. For the rest avoidance was impossible. The metal bit stretching from cheek to cheek kept each girl’s mouth open, the head could not be turned very far and backing up was impossible. The servers moved slowly down the line, tipping the can, waiting, and tipping it again. The spectators watched the operation with quiet fascination.
The ponies having been fed and watered, it was almost time to begin the afternoon’s entertainment. The air of excitement and anticipation spread among the riders and the watchers, dampening their conversations. There was less talk and the those who continued did so with voices lowered almost to a whisper. The girls on display felt the change. To Alicia’s right, the two sisters shuffled nervously. Several of the other girls writhed and pulled against their straps. Alicia tried to contain her own feelings but she too strained uncomfortably against her harness. When a cloud momentarily covered the sun, Alicia shivered against the sudden cold.
On the other side of the fence there was food, drink and loud chatter with, of course, constant appreciation of the show. The bartenders and waiters were the only ones with relatively little time to admire the naked ponies. They were kept busy replenishing the
constantly emptying buffet tables and refilling drink glasses. The sad, helpless looks from the far side of the fence made eating and drinking more exciting and pleasurable.
A little way down the line from Alicia, to her left, a black-haired woman was trying to pull free. One of the workers, left his table, grabbed a handful of her dark hair, said something in her ear, snapped a fingernail across a nipple and backed away. She flinched at the pain, twisted uncomfortably, said some incomprehensible words and was silent. The obstreperous woman, dark eyes glancing around wildly from a round, lovely face was the college professor. She wanted to tell Daniel, the boy who had brought her to the Pony races, that she had enough and wanted to go home. But there was no going back.
Andrea, the society woman, stood, more or less resigned, staring dully at Leroy and the other people finishing their lunches. Susanna constantly jerked her head toward her mother hoping to find some comfort but, finding none, looked greedily at the food the others were eating. Two young sorority girls chattering behind raised hands and tittered constantly made all the naked and bound ponies even more uncomfortable than the gawping men. They seemed particularly amused when large breasted Jennifer was returned to her place and hurriedly fed. In addition to the women’s breasts and their restraints, the two sorority sisters were intrigued by the difference in pubic hair. Girls rarely see other girls naked. Behavior in women’s locker rooms is ordinarily quite demure with robes and wrapped towels. Black haired Ruth, # 11, and Jennifer, had pubic hair that was almost the same color as that on their heads. But the rest, surprisingly, were different. The blonds, # 3 Alicia, # 7 Andrea, and # 12 Louise were darker below they were on top, while # 8 Robin, # 9 Susanna, and # 10 Gloria, all in a row were lighter. # 6 Betty was brown instead of red. So light, thin and sparse were # 2 Karen’s and # 1 Chrissie’s triangular patches that they almost looked to have no hair at all. # 5, the college professor, Mary Louise, by contrast, had hair thicker and darker and more luxuriant than the hair on her head.
***
One at a time, reins were loosed from the fence, brakes released, and they were led a few feet away. A handler held onto the reins while the drivers mounted, retrieved their whips and, in a few minutes, had them all strutting along in matched pairs. The two sisters, Chrissie and Karen, led the parade wearing turquoise sandals, turquoise feathers waving over their heads and pulling their two captors who sat proudly in their similarly colored carts. Next Alicia, the mathematics teacher and to her left Jennifer, both arrayed in light baby blue. Arthur and the Englishman chatted amiably as they drove their ponies. The third row showed Mary Louise, the dark haired professor, pulling a serious Daniel next to the older woman, Betty, who was pulling a sour faced Lester. Her bright red raiment did nothing to lighten anyone’s mood. In the next row, Leroy a picture of fierce concentration kept Andrea in line while never speaking a word to the man driving Robin, the young waitress. Their white adornments were, everyone agreed, very becoming. Leroy wondered if the choice of white feathers and shoes were some sort of commentary. Behind them Gloria and her daughter were displayed in pink. In the last row, Kenneth slowed Ruth Waterman until she was walking easily beside the tall gangly woman, Louise, the two nicely matched in yellow.
After the parade of naked ponies passed, the spectators finished their drinks and followed them into the field for the first event. The sprint was held in two heats. They were lined up by the numbers so the first six raced against one another with the top three to move on to the finals. Jennifer, number 4, sturdier than any of the others, strained forward at the gun and had the best start. But after about twenty yards, their riders whipping and urging them forward, Karen and Chrissie surged forward passing the larger girl. Just behind the two sisters, Arthur had Alicia running at a very good speed. The older woman, Betty, just didn’t have the strength to keep up while Mary Louise, running as fast as she could, was nowhere near fast enough. In the end it was Karen crossing the line first, followed by her sister Chrissie and Alicia in third place, with the other three far behind.
In the second heat, the blond woman, Andrea lost her sandal about half way down the course. Leroy dismounted, and cursing her as though it had been her fault and not his,
refastened the shoe. As he drove her toward the finish line, he continued berating her. The others had long passed, Robin, the young waitress, and Susanna finishing at almost the same time with Ruth just behind the two leaders. Gloria was several yards behind and Louise eventually managed to finish the course. None of this stopped Leroy from driving Andrea at full speed across the finish line.
After a short wait, just enough to let the girls from the second heat to have a short rest, they lined up. The gun went off to start the final of the sprint. Chrissie immediately stumbled because her driver, Clara, had not fully opened the brake. Were it not for her halter, she surely would have fallen and hurt herself. Her sister Karen, running on young, strong, well rested legs, was away first with Alicia Brix, the mathematics teacher, close behind. It was clear immediately that the girls from the earlier heat had a definite advantage for being better rested. Only Susanna, from the later group, ever stood a chance. Toward the finish she was actually closing on the leaders. Despite several well- placed blows from Clara’s whip, Chrissie was never really in contention. In the end Karen with Myra driving crossed the line first, several steps ahead of Alicia, urged on by Arthur. Just behind her was Susanna, whose driver was managing to get every bit of speed she could manage. Ruth and Robin finished again almost at the same time and Chrissie was last. A smiling Myra had Karen trot back along the edge of the audience to accept their cheers and congratulations. “Wire to wire. What do you think of that?” she said to her disappointed friend. Clara only frowned, urged Chrissie into a trot and moved away.
***
It was time for the slalom. The handlers laid out a course marked by orange and blue plastic traffic cones. The space between the cones was sometimes ample and sometimes quite narrow. The gates marked seven wide sweeping turns, three very sharp corners and a snaking S-curve. A slow walk through the course allowed drivers and ponies alike to familiarize themselves with the layout, orange cones always on the left, blue cones on the right. There were time penalties for knocking over cones, disqualification for missing a
gate. One after another, the naked pony girls were forced through the complex course, goaded with shouts and whips. One after another the exhausted pony girls sagged with exhaustion at the end. Susanna’s driver, the most experienced, had never won the event before. Given his familiarity with the event together with the youth and speed of the girl he was driving, he thought he should win easily. And, for a while, their time was the best. But Arthur drove a masterly race, controlling his blond mathematics teacher with masterful precision, slowing her down into the turns and speeding her up even before the turn was completed. His judicious use of the whip and careful control moved her smoothly through the chicane, while her longs legs stretched out between the turns. The cart grazed only one of the cones and when they were finished Alicia and Arthur were clearly in first place. Arthur watched nervously while the last three negotiated the course. The dark haired college professor was nowhere near fast enough to threaten. The whip bit into the fleshy part of her behind. “Faster,” Daniel shouted, “faster.” Mary Louise tried to respond but she had reached her limit.
The girl’s mother, who seemed to be doing quite well at first, tired toward the end. When Leroy lifted his hand, cracking the whip across Andrea’s back and sending her off at a prodigious rate, Arthur was concerned. The very pretty woman ran as though possessed, speeding through the turns, tearing along between the gates. At the final sharp curve, they were going too fast and the cart tipped wildly to one side. In order not to be disqualified, they had to come to a complete stop, start again before going back to the gate they missed. In the end Leroy and Andrea finished third behind Alicia Brix and Susanna. The second and third place drivers were even more disappointed than any of the other also-rans. Arthur drove Alicia around the course for their victory lap. He pulled up sharply on her reins, and Alicia had no choice but to prance her way around, as the spectators smiled and applauded.
While the handlers rearranged the plastic cones, the onlookers milled around, chatting with each other and with the drivers, discussing the naked women as though they weren’t there, comparing breasts, legs, waists, and behinds. When the course was finished, half the ponies were assigned, arbitrarily to one end of the figure 8, with the other half at the
other end. They would all start at the sound of the whistle. The first to complete 6 full laps would be the winner. The real action, of course, was at the open space in the center of the figure 8 where they were forced to come together going in opposite directions. Overly aggressive maneuvers might crash the chariots or the ponies. Overly timid driving might equally cause crashes and certainly caused the loss of time. It was Leroy, furiously whipping Andrea through the danger zone while shouting at the top of his lungs, who hit on the right strategy. When all the rest of them knew that you would not deviate from your course, that your pony would not shy, they were forced to swerve away. It was up to them, not Leroy to make the necessary concessions. Leroy raised his whip in triumph, pumping his arm, as they completed their last lap. “Way to go, bitch,” he leaned well forward. “You did good.”
After a leisurely return to the terrace, the girls were again tethered while the onlookers were given coffee and brandy and buffet table was filled with creamy desserts. There was no longer any hurry, plenty of time for awarding medals and appreciating the women who had provided the day’s entertainment. A man removed Karen’s turquoise plume, handed Clare the gold medal. Clare put a peck on Karen’s cheek as she hung the medal around the girl’s neck. The turquoise feather was replaced and they moved one place to Alicia. As her decoration fell between her breasts, Arthur fussed with its position all the while fingering her breasts and long, brown nipples. Leroy’s white teeth shone against his ebony face in a bright, fierce smile as he placed the medal over Andrea’s head. “All right!” he said, replacing her feathery topping.
Karen’s and Chrissie’s female drivers were speaking earnestly to a pair of large men. Every few moments one of the four would look up and direct attention toward the sisters. Their conversation became quite heated and , suddenly, they were all silent. There was a considerable difference between the price that the men were offering and the price that the women were willing to accept. The motorcycle club had taken up a collection among its members and decided on a top price. Each of the five members agreed to put up $250 with the understanding that the sisters were to be shared equally, even among the three who had girl friends. The asking price was $2000, a thousand each. They were at an
impasse. The two women were getting annoyed. They decided that if these guys weren’t willing to meet their price, they’d try to sell the girls elsewhere, or maybe just let them go. It was time to go back to town and reality. Now that a final offer had been made and rejected, it only needed someone to pronounce the discussion at an end.
Karen, the brighter and more perceptive of the two sisters, watched wide-eyed, as the proceedings continued. She thought she recognized the two men as the ones who showed up that night to watch them perform their sex show. They were making a deal, she thought. She and Chrissie were being sold to those two guys. That had to be it. It was a business transaction. A mixture of fear and apprehension overtook her. She turned slightly to look at her sister but Chrissie was staring glassy eyed and noticed nothing. Karen started to shake and began to cry. Large drops rolled unevenly down her cheeks. One of the two men, the one with the large belly, glanced over at her and their eyes met. That picture of absolute vulnerability, the young girl, hobbled, harnessed and fixed to a waiting cart, her shoulders shaking in fear, her eyes red and moist, was absolutely compelling. He imagined the feel of those small breasts in his hands and mouth, his palms squeezing her round, smooth rear. He saw himself using them together, imagined the two girls crawling all over his naked body, their mouths delving into every part of him. The vision was so physically enthralling that he had to adjust his underpants. He decided to put up the difference himself.
There were smiles and handshakes all around. Karen, seeing the difference in their attitudes, felt reassured. She could not know that the discussion had turned to the details of the exchange, when and where the girls would be handed over and how the money would be paid. There was a momentary sticking point concerning a question of business ethics. One of the women, Clara, suggested that as the original owners they were entitled to a share of any future profits on their merchandise. That idea was quickly rejected as both unwarranted and unworkable. The conversation turned to whether Karen’s medal stayed with her or went with the women who, after all, had driven them.
At the other end, a slim, elegantly dressed young man, stood just beyond the fence considering the woman at the end of the line, number 12, Louise Larson. He had no real interest in the tall gangly, blond. The woman who had taken his interest was number 11. He turned to study Ruth Waterman.
Kenneth noticed immediately and moved next to him. Something had to be done with her. He couldn’t just let her go. Although she swore over and over that she would never say anything about what had happened, Kenneth didn’t for a moment believe her.
“Hi,” Kenneth began, holding out his hand. When the thin young man didn’t respond, Kenneth went on. “She’s quite nice, isn’t she?”
“Is she yours?” His eyes never left Ruth Waterman’s body.
“Sure she is,” Kenneth answered a bit defensively, his gesture of friendliness ignored. “What do you think?”
“I congratulate you,” he said to Kenneth, “she’s a splendid creature.”
Kenneth was immediately mollified.
How wonderfully amusing, he thought, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. He was going to be the owner of this handsome Jewess. To be sure she was not young, already in her twenties, nor was she a raving beauty, but she had lovely round eyes and an exceptionally pretty face, her dark curly hair setting off broad features and long nose. The boy had good taste. There could be no doubt that her ancestors were Semites. Long legs and a high waist made her seem quite tall, and her large breasts were admirable. She had run well even though the boy managing her was obviously uncertain and inexperienced. A middle class, American Jewess to add to his collection, a lovely thought indeed. She would certainly be badly treated by the others but that was a problem for later. It wasn’t really his problem at all he decided. He would simply give orders that the American was
not to be maimed or disfigured in any way. He certainly wouldn’t want her attractiveness diminished. Other than that she would fend for herself. He waited for the boy to begin. It was obvious that he wanted to dispose of her. The young Prince, experienced in business and with the ways of trading and barter, waited quietly. The boy should never have left the wedding ring on her finger. On the other hand, the Prince was greatly pleased by the five-pointed Jewish star than hung between her breasts just at the top of her cleavage.
“She certainly is splendid,” Kenneth said, “well worth having.”
The Prince deliberately missed the point. “I congratulate you again, young man. She is, as you say, well worth having.” He began to move away.
“If you’re interested,” the boy began, then paused. The Prince slowed his stride but didn’t turn back. “If you’re interested,” Kenneth began again, “we might be able to work something out.”
Aware that he had just taken the upper hand, the Prince walked past Kenneth to stand directly in front of Ruth Waterman. “Far from a virgin,” he said sharply, “and old enough so the breasts no longer remain upright.” He reached over the wooden fence, lifted Ruth’s breast with one finger and let it fall back to her chest. “Once they are out of their teens,” he instructed, “they begin to lose their firmness.” In any negotiation there were always features to be denigrated, pressure put on the seller. Had Kenneth been more aware of such things he would have noticed the dreamy look in the Prince’s eye, a look that revealed a serious interest in the woman, a look showing that he had already begun thinking of her as his property.
Ruth Waterman watched his face with growing dread. She could see what Kenneth couldn’t, that this man meant to have her. Without thinking Ruth tried to back away but she only managed a few inches before the slack in the reins was taken up and she was pulled to a stop. Were she able to speak she would have begged Kenneth not to sell her
to this man, pleaded with every ounce of sincerity in her soul. Tugging did no good against the wrapped leather reins. Although what she would have done even if she were able to separate herself from the fence, was not at all clear. Decked out in harness and pulling a cart, she couldn’t have gone very far before she was caught, but the instinct was not to be denied.
Her spirit appealed to the Prince. She would make seven, one for each day of the week. Anything more than that, the Prince thought, would be greedy. Saturday, he decided, the Jewish Sabbath, that would be her day. He’d put her between the Japanese and the French airhostess. His Jewess could worship him every Saturday. “What’s her name?”
“Ruth,” the boy answered.
The Prince clapped his hands. “What could be more perfect than a Jewish woman named Ruth?”
The sounds that rose in her throat were muted and distorted by the metal bit pulling against her cheeks. Again and again she struggled against the unyielding leather straps that held her in place. The Prince found her fear and agitation almost unbearably stimulating. His erection pressed painfully in his narrowly tailored pants. He removed his jacket, handed it to the boy, unfastened the reins and moved quickly to the cart. “I’ll take her for a ride,” he said, “I’ll let you know what I think.” He left no room for disagreement.
Now that she was free to move, Ruth desperately wanted to stay where she was. Several hard blows with the whip and followed by hissed encouragement, convinced her to begin moving. To send her in the right direction, the Prince used the whip just enough to sting the outsides of her thighs, only increasing the force when she slowed. At the far side of the field, just over a small hill, he brought her to a stop, pulled the brake lever, and removed his pants, folding them neatly before placing them on the seat of the cart. Facing Ruth Waterman, he took off his underpants. Lifting and spreading her legs he
lifted her so she fell back supported only by the leather harness between the wooden shafts. He thrust himself between her legs, working his way through the thick black curls surrounding her moist opening. He grabbed her hips and pulled her hard enough to make the pressure of her pelvis almost painful. After about a dozen hard strokes, thrusting forward while jerking her toward him, he was done, the tension drained, a pleasant glow seeming to surround him. “Well my sweet,” he said as he dressed, talking in a conversational tone as though continuing a discussion. “I think we shall buy you from that young man. I doubt that he has had you long enough to have spoiled you. That would have been a shame. Yes, that would have been a real shame. I would hate to have seen you spoiled.” Carefully he straightened his shirt, buttoned his pants, and checked his appearance. Satisfied, he moved to stand directly in front of Ruth Waterman. He touched her cheek with the back of his perfectly manicured hand, before tracing a line beneath her large, dark eyes.
Dragging a fingernail back and forth across her lower lip, he said softly, “nice mouth.” Her puffy, pink lips were a source of secret pride, a pride that she had never shared with anyone. Often, looking at herself in a mirror, she thought that other women wore lipstick just to have lips that looked as large and attractive as hers. Oh, she sometimes wore lipstick, but more out of habit than need. When she was in college Ruth discovered that it was not difficult to interest a man by innocently poking her tongue between those sensuous lips. “Quite nice.” And in a gesture deliberately meant to cause dismay, he put a finger between her lips, rubbing the metal bit. “Good teeth,” he said tapping them with his finger. Her ears and forehead reddened, whether with shame or anger or dismay, it was impossible to say.
“Your husband may have spoiled you a little, but not enough to interfere with your training. Learning is a virtue. Don’t you agree?” he continued. “Isn’t that what your people teach you?” At this he paused as though he expected her to answer but she didn’t make any sound. “Well, you will learn many new ways to please a man. And you will, no doubt, be an excellent student, devising ways to excite and satisfy me. I require cleverness and originality in my possessions.” The anxiety he saw in her face as he
spoke pleased him immensely. He found visible signs of apprehension in women wonderfully stimulating. That picture would sustain him until she was installed in her place.
He made a clicking sound as he mounted the cart, seated himself, opened the brake, loosened the reins, tapped the whip lightly on her shoulder, and directed her back toward the patio. As she walked, Ruth became sharply aware of his moist residue dripping down her thighs. There seemed to be a much thicker flow inching down her right leg. She longed to be able to clean herself.
“A few moments ago,” he continued the one way conversation, “I was very excited and would surely have paid much too much for you. Now, I am much calmer. Not that you wouldn’t have been worth the higher price, my sweet Jewish princess. Are you a Jewish princess? Anyway, I am calmer now and will strike a much better bargain. It is not seemly to waste money when you don’t have to.” With only a little urging she moved along steadily.
The financial arrangements didn’t take long. The Prince offered one-third of what Kenneth asked for her. When the boy didn’t respond, the Prince immediately withdrew his bid. In the end they settled for only a few dollars more than the Prince’s original price. They were both more or less satisfied. And, although Kenneth received much less than he expected for Mrs. Waterman, he had disposed of a very serious threat, while the handsome Prince added this exceedingly attractive, young, Jewish woman to his collection for much less money and certainly a lot less effort than he ever could have believed.
The sun was half way down the sky. The last of the women was unhitched from her cart, freed from her uncomfortable get-up, given some salve for the whip marks and allowed to dress.
After a long, harrowing motorcycle ride, Karen and Chrissie were delivered to a large, dirty garage. After each of the five members of the Tall Pines Motorcycle Club had satisfied themselves with one or other of the sisters, they fastened choker collars, left there from a time when fierce dogs guarded a working garage, around the girls’ throats and attached to the wall with chains about three feet long. The arrangement was deliberate. That way the twins could be enjoyed either together or separately. Sitting huddled at the juncture of two mattresses laid end to end, the girls were wearing the only things that had been returned to them, their panties. Chrissie’s was a skimpy, lacy, sky blue pair while Karen wore a more demurely cut yellow panties adorned with pink butterflies. With a bravado meant to keep the girls in their place and puff up their own egos, they pronounced the sisters to be adequate, but not great. The discussion turned to how long they would keep them, whether they were worth what they paid for them, and what they would do with them. Somebody suggested that they make a road trip to Mexico. They could probably sell them down there for what they paid. Yeah, they would take Fat Sharon on the trip with them to be the girls’ keeper. Somebody would have to accompany them in ladies rooms. And when they got there, they’d sell Fat Sharon too. Get more for the three of them and save on gas on the return trip. They all laughed. But for the time being the girls would be fun to have around.