Part 5. Amy.


	Malcolm had no sooner gotten the envelope addressed and stamped than the
phone rang.  It was Amy.

	"Malcolm, could you come over and help me?  I have a problem."

	"What kind of problem?"

	"Just come over.  Please."

	"Alright."

	"Just come in when you get here.  The door's unlocked."

	Upon arrival, Malcolm let himself in the front door.  Amy was sitting on
the couch in the living room.  She was naked from the waist up.  She wore a pair
of jeans which were open in the front and not quite pulled all the way up. 
Malcolm suspected she hadn't been wearing them when she'd called.  Her wrists
were locked behind her in the handcuffs.

	"And how did we get like this?" Malcolm inquired.

	"I found these handcuffs at Claire's.  I decided to try them out, but I
can't get the keys to work."

	"That's because they're the wrong keys.  Don't worry.  I brought the
right ones."

	"You...these are your handcuffs, aren't they.  You tricked me."

	"No, I didn't."

	"Yes, you did.  Now let me go."

	"You're confused about which one of us locked those handcuffs on you. 
All I did was provide you with an educational opportunity.  You did the rest."

	"But you still tricked me.  You left the wrong keys."

	"It wouldn't be a problem if you hadn't used them."

	Amy looked sheepishly at Malcolm.  "Let me go.  Please."

	Malcolm pulled Amy to her feet.  He backed her up to the wall, then took
her head in his hands, tilting her face up toward his.  "And what have we
learned?" he asked her.

	Amy looked up into Malcolm's eyes.  Her jeans had slid half way down her
thighs.  "Please," she whispered.

	"Please what, Amy?"

	"Please.  Just...please."

	"Not tonight," Malcolm said quietly.  "You have to be a pony girl again. 
It will be then."

	"When?"

	"I'll call you."  Malcolm turned to leave, stopping to set a pair of
keys on the coffee table.

	Amy sank to the floor.  Malcolm had done it again--made a fool of her. 
She made no move to get the keys Malcolm had left.  She was being punished. 
Punished for being such a fool, for falling into Malcolm's trap, for revealing
herself to him, for begging him.  Her hands would remain locked behind her in
the cuffs.

	After a while, Amy worked her jeans the rest of the way off, then went
to the coffee table and began fumbling with the keys.  She required the use of
her hands.

	It was a long week for both Amy and Malcolm.  Malcolm planned to return
to the Bit and Bridle on Friday and the intervening days were just dead time
which he spent worrying about Claire and Grace.  Malcolm was also concerned that
the whole pony club connection was a red herring.  However, he had no other
leads and no choice but to pursue the matter.  There was also the fringe benefit
of having Amy as his pony girl for another night.

	Amy didn't look at it quite that way.  She was becoming more worried
about her sister, but like Malcolm, didn't have any other ideas.  Unlike
Malcolm, she was not looking forward to her next pony girl experience.  On
several occasions, she nearly called Malcolm and told him to find someone else
to go with him, but her increasing concern for her sister stopped her on each
occasion.

	On Thursday morning, Malcolm called Amy at the bank and told her he
would pick her up at her house Friday evening.  She was instructed to dress the
same as last time.  Somewhat reluctantly, Amy agreed.  That evening, she tried
on the handcuffs again, "just to get used to it," she told herself.

	The ride to the club was conducted in silence.  Malcolm was anticipating
having Amy in harness.  Amy was anticipating the same and pouting.  Upon
arrival, Malcolm got out of the car and headed for the door, leaving Amy to
follow along behind.

	Amy hurried to catch up to Malcolm and stayed close behind him.  As they
neared the door, Amy stepped in front of Malcolm and entered first.  Malcolm
trod on her heels as she stopped short.

	"If you'd sent her with me, she'd be behaving herself by now," said
Sebastian.  He was just completing the harnessing of his pony girl, who did not
happen to be Ingrid.  She stood stiffly erect, as had Ingrid, but her eyes
darted about nervously.

	"You have a point," replied Malcolm.

	"Perhaps you'll reconsider."

	"Perhaps.  See you inside."

	"Come, Trish."  Sebastian gave a tug on Trish's reins and she pranced
away behind him.

	"I'm not so sure about this," Amy said to Malcolm.  She had been
unnerved by the unexpected encounter with Sebastian and was having second
thoughts.

	"That's okay," Malcolm told her.  "I'll take you home.  I can find
Claire without you."

	"That's not what I meant..."

	"Yes, it is.  What else could you have meant?"

	"Okay, okay.  Tie me up.  I'll go in there."

	"Are you sure?"

	"Yes, I'm sure.  Just do it before I change my mind."

	Amy didn't sound all that sure to Malcolm, but it didn't matter.  Once
harnessed, there would be no mind changing.  Malcolm slipped her coat off her
shoulders.

	"Off with the sweater."

	Amy reluctantly removed her sweater.  It was better that it was removed
by herself rather than Malcolm.

	Malcolm signaled to Gerald, who began bringing paraphernalia.  The
gloves were slipped up her arms, and once again Amy's hands were unusable.  Her
wrists were pulled behind her, but this time, rather than the handcuffs, Malcolm
strapped her wrists together.  Where before she had had a couple of inches
between her wrists, now she didn't.  Her collar was locked about her throat,
then she was required to open her mouth and accept the bit.  As the bridle was
being buckled into place, the feeling of helplessness returned, even stronger
than last time.  Malcolm now had complete control of her and this condition
would persist until he chose to release her.  She understood what Cindy had said
about surrendering herself.  The difference was that she wasn't so sure she
liked it.

	Malcolm buckled the straps on Amy's upper arms, then pulled her elbows
together.  This time he left only an inch between them.

	Gerald brought Malcolm the plume, which was affixed atop her head, then
the crop.

	"Will you be requiring a tail this time?" inquired the meddlesome
Gerald.

	"Yes, I think that would be good," said Malcolm, accepting a lavender
tail.

	Amy started to back away, but a light tug on the reins brought her to a
halt.  It was too late to protest.

	Malcolm led Amy to a bar that was about waist high and caused her to
bend over it.  He looped her reins through a ring on the wall, leaving her
trapped in her bent over position.  He slid her skirt and panties down her legs,
then alternately lifted each foot, and Amy was now naked but for her boots and
harness.  Malcolm cinched a broad belt around Amy's waist, then worked the tail
through the crotch strap which dangled from the rear of the belt.  Amy yelped
and squirmed as the plug from which the tail sprouted was worked into her.  Once
in place, the crotch strap was pulled tight and buckled in front.  Amy's  reins
were unhitched and she stood somewhat uncertainly upright.  She was now
outfitted in the same manner as the majority of the ponies she had observed.

	"Don't let that fall out," Malcolm cautioned her.  "If I have to replace
it, you may get one like Cindy had."  Amy realized that Malcolm was teasing her. 
With the crotch strap in place, her tail would remain firmly implanted.

	Amy followed as Malcolm led her into the club.  They had arrived later
than last time and it was already well populated.  From the door she had a
pretty good view of the interior without turning her head.  Her eyes darted
about, searching fearfully for Sebastian, but she didn't see him.  She did see
Mr. Knowles seated at a table near the center of the room, Cindy kneeling beside
him.  Malcolm led her in that direction.

	Malcolm knelt Amy next to Cindy, then sat down across from Mr. Knowles.

	"Hello, Greg."

	"Hi, Malcolm.  I see you've got your new pony with you again.  Cindy
didn't seem to think she'd be back."

	"You know how it is with women and horses.  Being one is even better
than having one."

	"I know what you mean," Greg replied.

	"What a load of crap," Amy wanted to say, but couldn't.

	"I'm curious about something," Malcolm continued.  "What do you know
about this Sebastian character?"

	"Not a lot.  He's a rather curious case, though."

	"How so?"

	"He was always sort of a wannabe.  He used to come in on rare occasions
with his girl friend.  It was obvious that she had no interest in being a pony
girl.  He'd put her in the absolute minimum harness necessary to get in and
she'd slouch around behind him for an hour or two, then they'd leave.  Even when
she was in harness, you could tell who was in charge in that relationship.  He
would never really control her.  I don't know what price she extracted from him
for her couple of hours as a pony girl, but I'm sure he got the short end of the
stick."

	"What happened to the girlfriend?"

	"The last time he brought her in was right before he started bringing in
all these other women.  On that occasion, she was the prototype of her
successors.  The change was amazing.  He put her in full harness, complete with
tail and total control bridle.  I think it was the first time anyone had
actually used one of those.  We just keep them around for show, but he actually
put it on her."

	"She didn't object?"

	"Not a peep.  He held it up so she could see it, taunting her with it. 
She looked like she wanted to scream, but she didn't.  She opened her mouth on
command and accepted it.  Then he took her inside and paraded her around for the
rest of the evening."

	"He came to me last week and told me he was a trainer.  He wanted to
take Amy for training."

	"That's the odd thing.  He used to come in here and mope around leading
his sulky girl friend.  Then suddenly one week she's a perfectly obedient pony
and now he comes in with a different girl every week and acts like he's some big
shot.  I must admit these new girls are very obedient, but there's no joy in
them.  One would almost believe they didn't want to be pony girls.  I'd find it
all extremely odd if I gave a damn."

	"So where does he get his customers?  Who are these women he brings in?"

	"No one knows.  He doesn't normally solicit business here.  Most of us
who come here are regulars.  We all know each other, but the girls he brings in
are all strangers.  Each makes her single appearance and isn't seen again."

	"That reminds me of something.  He told the girl he had last week that
she failed the test or something like that.  I wonder if it's part of his
training routine to bring them here for an evening."

	"That would seem to fit, but for what or for whom he's training all
these women is unknown."

	"I'd like to find out.  He told me he had a partner."

	"That might explain it.  The results he gets seem out of line with what
I knew of him before.  I wouldn't be surprised to learn someone else is in on
the deal."

	"So what does he do when he's here?" Malcolm wanted to know.

	"Mostly, he just parades his current pony around.  I think he's looking
for acceptance.  Nobody ever took him seriously  before, and I think for him the
slight was not slight, if you see what I mean."

	"So, did it work?  Is he accepted now?"

	"Not really.  Most of us feel that the transformation from wimp to jerk
was not an improvement."

	"And what about the girls?  You said they weren't joyful?"

	"There's no playfulness in them, no pride in their prancing, no...I
don't know.  I'd bet, though, that none of them look forward to their evenings
here.  Not the way Cindy or the other girls do."

	"I got that impression myself.  Ingrid, his girl last week, did not seem
to be enjoying herself.  Does he always use the total control bridle?"

	"Always, at least every time I've seen him since the transformation. 
Maybe it's just  overreaction on his part.  He had to practically beg his old
girl friend to take a standard bridle and at that he never put it on tight.  It
just sort of hung on her.  Now every girl gets the total control bridle."

	"Do any of them ever object?"

	"No, not that I know of.  I don't know what he does to them, but it's
obviously a lot worse than being put in the total control bridle."

	"Has he ever brought this girl in?" Malcolm asked, showing Greg a
picture of Claire.

	"I don't think so.  It's hard to be certain, since I only see them
bridled and they don't look quite the same that way.  Why?  Who is she?"

	"She's a friend.  She seems to be missing."

	"Cindy told me you were looking for someone.  You really think Sebastian
is involved?  That worries me."

	"Why?  I thought you said you didn't give a damn."

	"About Sebastian, I don't, but what you're suggesting has criminal
implications.  We don't do anything illegal here, but police scrutiny would
still be embarrassing for many of us.  We value our privacy."

	Amy thought a little embarrassment might be good for some of these
people, but then it occurred to her that if the police were to arrive right now
and start asking questions, maybe taking pictures, she herself would be
extremely embarrassed.  She wouldn't want to have to admit to anyone that she
had consented to her current condition, and she certainly wouldn't want her
picture taken.