The strange effect that the costume began to have on Eleanor's thoughts was only exaggerated by the experience of being carried into the ballroom and seeing for the first time the effort that had gone into transforming the space into a decadent toyshop from this odd new perspective. Though she had been one of those who worked to make the place resplendent with ribbon, black balloons and traditional playthings arranged on temporary shelves and hung from the rafters, she found that she saw the entire thing anew as if she were now one of the items being placed on display, a part of the décor herself.

She was placed on a raised stage at the far end of the ballroom, alongside a number of other intriguing sights that appeared to be the most elaborate contributions to the festivities by those who could match Madame in terms of both funds and imagination. Eleanor regarded them with a mixture of intense curiosity and a sudden jealousy that she had not in any way anticipated. Was she actually unhappy with the idea that one of these other human toys might attract attention that should have been her own?

As she was lifted onto the stage, Eleanor had a good chance to look over what she now realised was the competition. It seemed that Madame moved in circles where there was no shame in going to the extreme, and she had to admit that she had never seen anything like the company with which she shared the stage.

Her closest neighbour on the stage sat slumped on the boards, so totally still that she could have been mistaken for comatose. From what Eleanor could see, she was a girl who could not have been much more than twenty and obviously chosen for her youthful looks that were complemented by the gay pink dress that she wore and the tight curls into which her golden hair had been gathered with matching ribbons. The girl might have been taken for the perfect image of Lolita, save for the cords that descended from the shadows above the stage and threaded through the loops that jutted out at her wrists, ankles and the back of her neck.

It took Eleanor a moment to realise that the metal loops were not driven into the girl's skin, but rather into a layer of latex that covered most of her visible body. She saw then that the latex had been moulded to resemble the jointed body of a doll, so that the portions of her body that could be seen looked to be made up of ball joints and shaped wood that had been painted to resemble pale skin. The effect was uncanny and only added to by the way in which her face had been made up with exaggerated rouge on the cheeks and pouting red lips. As she stared at the living marionette, Eleanor flinched as her eyes opened and she gave a sweet, yet vacant smile that was all too appropriate for the part she was playing.

Eleanor tried to ignore the gaze of the marionette and instead devoted herself to studying the peculiar sight of a couple who seemed to be dressed as mediaeval jesters, their bodies clad in skin-tight red and black spandex and heads covered with caps whose bells jingled as they moved. They tossed a series of balls to one another as if practising in preparation for the evening's festivities and she had to admit that they appeared to be quite talented jugglers.

At first she took them for a pair of clowns and was slightly disappointed to see something so mundane sharing her stage. But then she noticed the limited range of movement that they were afforded and strained to see the reason for their failing to move from the spot on which they stood.

Though she was effectively on all fours, the additional height of her runners allowed Eleanor to see over the head of the marionette and glimpse the lower bodies of the mysterious pair. There she was amazed to see that below the waist, the motley clad jugglers stood in a pair of matching boxes which were large enough to accommodate them if they crouched down and the lids were closed on top of them. Stranger still was the fact that their legs were held together by their costumes, as if they did not have the limbs at all.

As Eleanor watched them sway back and forth, twisting and turning as much as they were able, she realised that they were not after all simply clowns or jesters. They were intended to be a pair of matching jack-in-the-boxes, emerging from their boxes and sitting on a spring rather than legs.

She could tell now that while both were as supple and lean as circus acrobats, displaying great skill at maintaining their balance while giving the illusion of moving atop a spring, they were definitely of different genders. Their painted faces may have been similar, but the woman had the slender and almost equine quality of a gymnast and was a head shorter than her counterpart. Her body writhed like an alluring snake as she tossed the balls back and forth.

But for her own part, Eleanor was far more captivated by her partner,

He was broad, but built with the body of an athlete and provided a masculine counterpoint to the woman that could never have been called effeminate. The features of his face were well concealed beneath the greasepaint, but the spandex that he wore highlighted every inch of his body. Eleanor was almost shocked to see that his penis was not simply covered by the material, but had instead been fitted into an external sheath so that it stood proudly in front of him. It was an effort to pull her eyes away from the sight of the thing and not simply stare as she imagined the sensation of stroking it while she contemplated the muscles of his thighs pressing down on her.

The far end of the stage was dominated by what appeared to be a box of pink cardboard, easily the size of a telephone box and fronted with a window of flimsy plastic. Inside the box, Eleanor could see the figure of a woman stood as still as a statue. She was held in place by a number of ties that effectively attached her to the back wall of the box at the neck, waist and ankles although the blithe smile that characterised her expression did not seem in the least affected by her bondage.

Eleanor scrutinise the woman's face, aware that there was something not quite right about the way the light reflected off her skin. She noticed that the woman was covered in a tight skin of rubber, like herself and the marionette, but that the finer details of her features had been deliberately concealed beneath it. This pink and shiny skin was made to resemble plastic and the visible portions of her body were marked with grooves at the shoulders, neck and wrists as though they were points of articulation.

At once the sight of the woman brought to mind a child's doll and the odd visage of an inflatable sex toy merged into one. And that was what Eleanor concluded the point of the elaborate costume was; a doll that evoked the supposed glamour of an unattainable plastic icon of childhood contrasted with a very much adult one intended to be the object of sexual desire.

By the time she had finished sizing up the other fantastical toys upon the stage, Eleanor was surprised to realise that the ballroom had slowly filled with guests. In that time the roles had begun to be reversed and now it was she who was being watched and appraised by dozens of eager pairs of eyes.

She had no way of knowing how many people had crowded into the room in the time that she had been distracted, but she did know that the ballroom was large and the throng that she could see in her limited range of vision seemed to fill it almost entirely. There was the sound of classical music in the background, mixed with the occasional undertone of more modern music created by artificial means that surfaced like a sinister predator from the depths before disappearing once more beneath pleasant strings and percussion.

Though none of the guests that Eleanor could see were dressed a manner anything close to as elaborate as the toys on the stage, their own costumes strangely echoed the nature of the music and décor. Designs and fashions straight out of the pages of history had been reinvented to blend with the trappings of the modern fetish scene. Lace, damask and silk rubbed delightedly against latex, leather and spandex to make the crowd a riotous mixture of past and present all at once.

To begin with there seemed to be little to choose between the amount of attention that each of them received, but soon the ability of the jack-in-the-boxes and the marionette to move in even such a limited manner became apparent as they played up to the ever increasing number of guests watching them.

Eleanor felt a sudden frustrated sympathy for the doll inside her box, lamenting the fact that they were both effectively strapped down and unable to make a show of themselves. That was until she looked over and saw the effect that her supposed comrade-in-bondage was achieving simply by straining against her restraints. The doll could not express herself by means of her expression, but she moved her plastic body in a manner that seemed to indicate the desperation with which she wanted to be freed. Every time she arched her back and tossed her head back, she seemed to plead with the crowd to be let out of her box in order to let them have the pleasure of playing with her.

There was nothing that she could have imaged to be worse than simply sitting there on the stage and allowing the chance of such attention to be taken away from her and she racked her brain for the best solution.

Eleanor knew that she was effectively chained at the wrists and ankles and in addition the hidden supports that run up the insides of her limbs in order to keep her upright also served to limit her mobility at the same time. She was unable to move in any real sense that she was used to and found the situation frustrating as she wanted nothing more than to be given the same attention of any other person on the stage.

But that's it, she thought, I'm still thinking like a human being when I should be thinking like a rocking horse instead.

Gently at first and then with steadily more force, Eleanor began to shake her equine head from one side to the other. The motion caused her mane to flick and dance, catching the subtle tones of her red hair in the lights that illuminated the stage. Next she cast her head backwards for a moment and then down and forwards, the motion causing her to rock on her runners at the same time. Soon she was lost in the momentum of her movements, thinking of herself as a horse in full gallop and hoping that she could snare the eyes of the crowd.

From the few snatched glances that she was able to manage before the blunt shape of her equine nose obscured her view; it seemed that her plan was having some success. While most of the crowd were being drawn by the more animated delights of the other toys, a small but growing number were casting their gaze over the rocking horse that seemed to have suddenly come to life before them. They watched the effects of her back and forth motion on her mane and tail, the way that the light played off her shiny rubber hide and some even noted the way in which her breasts swung pendulously beneath her as she moved.

Suddenly the sound of a crack that reverberated around the room like the report of a gun broke the spell that the toys had been intent upon casting over the crowd. Each one of them stopped what they were doing and looked around with an expression of surprise on their faces as they searched for the source of the noise without seeing an obvious source either on the stage or amongst the crowd.

"Now then," a voice spoke out in a tone that was intended to be commanding and not a little scolding at the same time, "whatever do we have here?"

All eyes followed the direction of the voice and found it as a spotlight illuminated the highest point in the rigging above the right hand side of the stage. The figure that they saw perched there was petite, but boasted a figure that could have been nothing but feminine despite her relatively slight stature. Dressed in a bodice of red latex, matching tights and slippers, her hair dyed a shocking shade of the same colour and her face made up in black and white greasepaint, the woman resembled a mischievous imp of some kind. She clutched a coiled whip in one hand and Eleanor noticed that she was perched atop a trapeze swing as she surveyed the stage below her and she had to admit that the diminutive woman looked very much as though she knew how to make use of it.

"I turn my back for a moment and you start playing up the second that I do," her voice carried so well that Eleanor assumed she must be wearing some kind of hidden microphone. "I won't stand for this kind of behaviour from toys that are supposed to be gratefully awaiting the chance to be played with when their turn comes." She stretched herself out and gripped the thin cords on either side of the swing in preparation to leave her perch. "It seems that I'm left with no choice but to dole out a punishment that will remind you all of your place and purpose at the same time."

With that she swung out on the trapeze and over the stage, tumbling off in mid-flight to land in an expertly timed tuck and roll. The woman came to her feet with a neat cartwheel, still holding the whip in one hand and facing the crowd at the front of the stage.

The petite imp strode from one side of the stage to the other, hands held behind her back as she scrutinised the toys one by one. Eleanor eyed the whip warily, suddenly aware of the fact that she had always been terrified by the idea of being lashed and just how little she could have done to stop the other woman if she chose to use the thing upon her.

"A plastic bimbo in a box," the imp shook her head as she reached the doll at the far end of the stage. "You're supposed to be a role model for young girls the world over, teach them to be oh so demure and adorable when they grow up. But here you are, clawing at the inside of your box like a cat in heat. I think that you need to be reminded about the way in which your clothes make you so glamorous and just how easily they can be stripped off of you as well. Maybe that way you'll learn to be a little bit more retiring?"

The doll had begun to retreat as far back into her box as she was able, as if she truly believed that she was being scolded for her actions. But there was nowhere for her to go as the imp slipped around the back of the box and undid the ties that held her in place. She opened one side of the box and herded the nervous doll into the centre of the stage.

Eleanor had to admit that the woman dressed as the doll was putting on what she hoped was a very good act. She looked both ashamed and deeply nervous as she stared out at the crowd. While she had been inside the box, the tiny dress of pink latex that she had been wearing had not been visible, but now it was clear that the garment barley covered her ample curves and angles.

"Now," the imp prodded her with the butt of the whip, "strip."

Slowly the doll did as she was told, the task made all the more difficult by the fact that her costume had bunched her fingers together in a single claw of a hand. The type of doll that she represented did not have articulated digits and so by the strange logic of the setting, neither did she. The doll struggled even with such a small amount of clothing to handle and almost stumbled over on more than one occasion, but in the end she stood naked on the stage.

Devoid of clothes, it was instantly clear that she had been made to resemble a doll in every way possible with her jointed limbs and smooth plastic body. Her breasts were firm and totally lacking any kind of nipples and there was not a hint of hair on her groin. There at least she seemed to have been allowed to remain very much naturally human, the plastic only just hiding the glimpse of her most intimate parts with their visibly real flesh.

"That's better," the imp walked around the doll with a smile on her face, barely reaching the other woman's breasts with the top of her head and yet commanding her full attention and inspiring complete obedience. "I think we need to remind you what it's like to be played with. I'm sure we can get a volunteer from the good people here tonight. How about you, sir?" She pointed to a man in the front of the crowd who appeared to be dressed as something pieced together from the remains of Edward Scissorhands and Jack Sparrow and almost managed to look like the man who played them from the right angle. "I'm sure that you're not afraid of playing with a doll no matter than you're all grown up!"

The man hardly took the time to acknowledge the imp as he hopped onto the stage and advanced towards the doll with what he had probably been told was his best pirate look firmly spread across his face. For her own part, the doll tried to look like a picture of submissive nerves, but Eleanor was sure that she could see beneath that thin veneer of emotion. There was a light in her eyes that suggested she was in truth far less than unhappy to have been given to the man who was now running his hands up and down the sides of her body. The imp whispered something into his ear and he nodded before slapping the doll hard across the buttocks and almost chasing her behind the curtains and into whatever lay backstage.

"Come now," the imp addressed the crowd as a collective moan went up at the departure of the doll and her new, albeit temporary master from the stage. "You must respect the wishes of your fellow guests as to whether they choose to play in the open or in one of the private booths that we have backstage. We will have order," she took in the crowd with a gesture from her whip and a stern look on her face, "or I will make sure that the troublemakers are punished by turning them into toys themselves. Don't think that I lack the powers or the mean to do so!"

The threat did nothing to still the crowd, but then it was not intended to. Most were more than eager at the prospect of either being chosen to play with the toys onstage or else as the next best thing being chosen to don one of the costumes themselves.

"Oh do get up," the imp sighed as she walked over to the marionette who had slumped back to the boards of the stage. As if in response, the inert form sprang to its feet and then sagged forwards, head on one side in a manner that suggested the puppet was listening while at the same time subtly mocking her tormentor.

As she watched, Eleanor realised that the woman was being supported and moved solely by the strings that were attached to her costumed body. There must have been an elaborate arrangement of wires and puppeteers in hidden in the rigging to make the thing work, but the result was impressive to say the least. For her own part, the woman in the costume seemed to remain as limp as boiled celery and never move a muscle of her own accord.

She could not help but wonder if the suppleness was simply a matter of acting or the woman had been given some kind of anaesthetic to achieve the state in which she hung from the strings. If she was drugged, then Eleanor did not envy her the experience that was undoubtedly awaiting her backstage.

"Ah," the imp plucked at the marionette's strings, "a poor puppet who dances for the one that pulls her strings and never once thinks of her own feelings or desires. But what's this? You're dancing alone and we can't have that, it would be such a wasted opportunity! You need a strong partner to take you in hand and lead you through the dance. And I see just the man for the job, how apt that his solid nature will be paired with your own lack of a spine!"

The man that the imp had chosen climbed onto the stage using the steps at the far ends, their wooden runners creaking beneath his weight. Eleanor guessed that he must have been well over six feet and weigh in excess of two hundred pounds, but if there was any fat on him it was well hidden beneath the slabs of rigid muscle that defined the shape of his body. He was starkly bald and yet bristled with body hair and sported a thick goatee of steely grey over a face that was best described as rugged. His costume was possibly a wry comment on his own appearance, seeming to be that of a teddy bear which he had torn open to the waist. Only his legs were still covered by the layer of fur and the rest hung around his midriff like a skirt of torn skins. A pair of braces prevented the whole thing from falling down around his feet and he chewed on the butt of a cigar as he went his eyes intent upon the form of the marionette.

When he reached his prize, the puppeteers had their own fun by making the human puppet seem to cover her face in horror and flee across the stage from the approaching bear. Rather than be angered, the man instead roared with laughter and began to give chase, amused by the farcical little performance into which he had been drawn. When he caught his prey, he seized her and swung her around in a mock waltz from one end of the stage to the other.

"A bear, a bear," sang the imp in the background, "all black and brown and covered in hair!"

The dance ended when the bear and his marionette twirled through the curtains and out of sight of the crowd. As they went and attention turned to who would be the next toy to be given to a guest, Eleanor could not help but wonder what the experience back there would involve for whoever was working the strings of the puppet.

"Aarrgh!" the imp jumped into the air with an exaggerated expression of shock on her face as she walked in front of the jack-in-the-boxes. She turned to stare at them with indignation in her eyes. "Which one of you is responsible for that manhandling of my posterior?"

Both of the jack-in-the-boxes look at the other as if puzzled and shocked at the accusation and then shook their heads in unison to claim innocence. A second later the both tried to secretly point to the other, saw the accusing fingers and fell into a silent argument of gesture and expression that spoke of long experience as a performing duo so easy was their improvisation.

"Stop bickering," the imp grabbed their attention. "I know the difference between the touch of a man and a woman. It was you that put his hands on me." She pointed at the male jack-in-the-box, who feigned innocence by placing his hands on his chest and shaking his head vociferously.

"Oh please," the imp turned to the audience, "let me see if there's a woman in here who would rather have you pawing at her than me."

Eleanor saw that there was no shortage of eager women in the crowd and more than a few men who seemed downcast at being denied the chance to play with the mischievous jack-in-the-box. She may have been no expert on the average male member, but she was sure the one that stood out on the front of his costume was quite considerable. In conjunction with his athletic figure and tendency to cause trouble, there was never going to be a lack of interest in him.

"You in the petticoats," the imp ushered a woman onto the stage in an elaborate period dress that allowed her to literally sweep across the floor as she went. "Maybe you don't have legs under all of that, but then neither does he. But no matter, I'm sure that you'll find something below the waist that's to your liking."

The woman was wearing heavy and very dramatic makeup and seemed to be more than a little impaired by drink as she approached the jack-in-the-box. She smiled up at him as he leered back at her, as if luring her closer all the time. She reached out with a gloved hand and began to stroke his spandex covered penis up and down as though she had never seen one before. Soon he was very much erect and began to perform a rippling dance as his new owner massaged his member ever faster.

The crowd denied the sight of such things with the previous toys and their masters, soon shouted words of encouragement and scandalous demands up at the stage. These only made the wicked light in the eyes of the jack-in-the-box grow more eager as he reached down and spun his supposed mistress around so that she faced the enraptured audience. Then quick as a flash, before she could even change the confused look on her face, he lifted her petticoats with one hand and pulled down her panties with the other before leaning into her.

Suddenly entered with the entire length of his erect penis, the expression on the woman's face was quite something to behold. Eleanor had never seen anything like it, the combination of surprise and then totally unexpected pleasure that bloomed sent the crowd into hysterics. In any other circumstances, the act would have been unthinkable. But here in the midst of this strange company the woman simply gasped in delight and bathed in the reaction of the audience as the jack-in-the-box proceeded to have his way with her.

But then, just at the moment when it seemed she could take no more of his attentions, he wrapped his arms around her and coiled himself up into a tight ball. Holding her against him, the jack-in-the-box pulled the woman down into his own box until the lid slammed closed on top of them. Eleanor was amazed that both of them had managed to fit inside and like the rest of the crowd, she wondered just what was now transpiring in that small wooden cube in the middle of the stage.

The imp wasted no time in ushering the box away under the power of two stagehands dressed so plainly as to be almost invisible. Only then did she turn her attention to the female jack-in-the-box who save for Eleanor herself, was the only remaining toy on the stage.

"Ah, my dear," she shook her head as the female jack-in-the-box looked hurt and betrayed by the actions of her male counterpart. "You look as though your heart has been broken by his mounting of that woman. But what did you expect he would do when the chance came along to spread the legs of a real woman rather than toss balls back and forth with a silly little thing atop a spring? Maybe you should have been tossing other balls all that time?"

The jack-in-the-box crossed her arms over her chest with and angry expression on her face.

"That's the way," the imp laughed at her reaction, "shoot the messenger!" Her tone became conspiratorial as she moved closer to the sulking jack-in-the-box. "If I were you, I'd remember that what's good for the gander is also good for the goose. What better way to get back at the bastard than to play him at his own game? And I'm sure that everyone here will tell you that you shouldn't knock knocking a human being until you've tried it."

At that the crowd cheered in approval and the female jack-in-the-box made a wonderful act of going from sceptical to intrigued and then to lustful as the idea supposedly bubbled around inside her head. She nodded at the imp and turned to face the crowd before making a show of her pliant body, bending in ways that were almost too much to be believed and at the same time being sure to proffer her breasts, twist her buttocks and pout her black-painted lips as she did so.

"There's a man with the class we need to treat you to a dose of human company," the imp pointed to a man in the audience who had been quietly intent upon the jack-in-the-box throughout her performance. At the invitation, he simply nodded his head silently and made his way to the stairs and onto the stage. The man had skin the colour of ebony and wore an exquisitely tailored suit in a nineteenth century cut topped off with a cane that he carried elegantly at his side. When he reached the middle of the stage, he stopped and made a practised bow to the somewhat surprised jack-in-the-box before taking her spandex-clad hand and planting a gentle kiss upon it.

Clearly taken aback by his manners and affectations, the jack-in-the-box could not help but be stricken with a rather silly grin as he returned to a standing position. The whole thing was helped by the fact that the man was undeniably handsome into the bargain and seemed to have quite unmanned the toy that he had been given.

Next he leaned forwards and placed a kiss full on her lips, meeting with less than no resistance as she pressed herself into his body with an eagerness that no one had been expecting to see.

As he ended the kiss, he whispered something into the ear of his prize through the red spandex that covered her head. The expression on her face spoke volumes about her reaction, but as she almost tried to beat more speed out of the stagehands that appeared to move her box behind the curtains, what he had said remained a mystery.

Suddenly Eleanor became aware of the fact that all eyes were now upon her. In her fascination with the ceremony of pairing off the toys with their delighted masters, she had quite forgotten the fact that she was amongst them. Now there was only one prize left to be claimed on the stage and she could not begin to explain how uncomfortable it was to know it was her own self.

"All alone on the big empty stage," the imp was suddenly sitting astride Eleanor's saddle with a mocking expression on her face. "Does no one want to ride this poor little pony?"

The sensation of a rider's weight upon her saddle was an odd experience for Eleanor, but not she found at all an unpleasant one. The imp was light as a feather and no matter how she made a show of pushing herself back and forth on her back while pulling on the reins, all that the human rocking horse really noticed was the motion that she caused. Somehow the feeling of finally being sat upon and ridden was a relief, as was the way in which Eleanor's equine nose was pulled this way and that by her rider.

"Perhaps I was wrong," the imp shook her head, "here comes a likely rider for this red headed mount beneath my backside! Yes, the lady in the cloak and hood, come up here and take the reins from me."

Lady, Eleanor thought as she glanced suddenly at the crowd, I'm being given to a woman?

In reality she supposed that there was no hard and fast rule that stated she had to be given to a member of the opposite gender. But then she was already secretly jealous of the toys that had been given to the previous masters and would more than likely be treated to an intimate meeting with their members even as she stood there on the stage.

Were there ways in which being the plaything of a woman would be as wonderful, if different to being the plaything of a man?

Eleanor realised that either way, she was about to find out.

Her master stepped onto the stage, a tall figure draped in an all concealing hooded cloak of rich black material. She wasted no time in capering on the boards for the amusement of the crowd or responding to the efforts of the imp to make a comedic scene out of the moment. Instead she simply nodded to the stagehands, instructing them to lift Eleanor by her runners and carry her behind the curtain.

For her own part, Eleanor was somewhat deflated by the speed at which she had been removed from the stage. Watching as the other toys were whisked away after some amusing and exciting play before the crowd had stirred her expectations as to what she might expect herself. Now that she had been carried away and into one of the empty booths backstage, she could not help but feel the fault was her own, that somehow she had been disappointing enough to bustle out of sight without a second thought.

"Finally I have you all to myself," Eleanor recognised the voice behind her as she heard the door to the booth swing closed. "I can't abide all of that noise and fuss when I'm trying to enjoy myself."

Madame undid the clasp holding the cloak around her neck and allowed the entire thing to fall around her feet. Beneath it she wore a black leather corset that covered her from beneath her breasts to an inch below the waist with a diaphanous and sheer blouse of the same colour tucked in so that it swathed her exposed chest and arms. Beneath the material, her pale skin was more hinted at than actually visible and her nipples could be made out in shape if not actually seen in the flesh. Black latex tights covered her legs from below the corset and disappeared into tight boots that reached to her knees and added to her already considerable height with their perilous heels.

But the one item of her costume that captured Eleanor's attention as she glanced back over her shoulder was the intimidating length of the phallus that she wore strapped to her crotch, as naturally as if she had been born with the thing.

It was by no means the largest imitation of a penis that she could have imagined; rather it was a generous size without seeming to be grotesque in some strange way. Eleanor guessed that the thing must have been made from some kind of rubber and probably modelled on the real thing based on the amount of detail that was visible along the shaft.

Now that she had seen it, two things were evident to Eleanor as she gazed back at it.

The first was that Madame was obviously intending to use the thing upon her.

The second was that with every passing moment the length of formidable rubber was coming ever closer.

"I have a confession to make," Madame's voice was calm and reassuring as she knelt down behind Eleanor. "You are not the only one who owned a beautiful rocking horse as a child." Her hands were on the other woman's buttocks as she spoke, stroking and massaging her through the rubber skin of the costume and working their way forwards to her groin. "Mine was a joy to have and unlike you I did ride it whenever I could, in fact I rode it until I quite wore the thing out."

Eleanor swallowed and tried to keep her breathing even as she felt Madame's fingers brush past the lips of her vagina and move on to slide across her stomach. They found her breasts and pressed them against her chest; teasing the nipples and making her arch her back as much as she was able while lashed to her runners.

"The moment that you told me your sad story," Madame was closer now, almost speaking into her ear, "I wanted to help in any way that I could, wanted to show you how much you had missed by denying yourself the simple gratification that you have a right to feel as much as anyone in the world. This is the perfect way to do so, to show you the joy of being ridden and at the same time allowing me to feel that happiness I once had and ride a beautiful rocking horse again."

Eleanor felt something cold slide against her groin and jumped instinctively at the sensation. She could not see the approach of the phallus or know that it had been covered with a lubricant for her own benefit. Instead she experienced a moment of panic as she sensed the movement of Madame's body against the buttocks.

Although she was filled with nerves, a strong undercurrent of the excitement she had been filled with while on the stage still held sway over Eleanor's body. As it was there had not been time for her change in mood to have an effect on her physical state and so when the time came, the head of the phallus met little resistance as it pushed against the outer lips of her vagina.

The sudden pressing was followed by the sensation of entry as her muscles moved to accommodate the width of the shaft that followed the head into Eleanor's body. Madame did not stop her forwards motion and instead pushed onwards into the helpless rocking horse, feeling her quiver as she went ever deeper.

Eleanor was sure that this could not go on for much longer, that there was simply not enough room to accommodate the entire length of the phallus inside her body. But still she felt the head making its way into her core and the shaft coming afterwards to keep the sensation alive even as it built in intensity.

Soon their bodies were no more than a fraction of an inch apart, as much of the phallus as possible filling Eleanor and driving her mad with the effect it was having on her most intimate parts. Madame held her in that position for what seemed like an eternity, keeping as still as she was able and simply allowing the experience to wash over her plaything until there was no resistance left inside her.

Only when she was satisfied with the tumult of pleasure that she sensed in the bucking motion of Eleanor's restrained body did Madame begin to move backwards and forwards inside the younger woman. For her it was a pleasurable act as well, due to the well-concealed fact that the phallus was double-headed and extended as far into her own body as it did into Eleanor's. She wanted to ride and be ridden every bit as much as she was sure the rocking horse beneath her did.

For her own part, Eleanor was convinced that she was never more than a second away from either biting through the latex that filled her mouth to scream out loud or simply snapping her back with the intensity of her stimulation.

When he climax came and she rolled back and forth on her runners, Eleanor was convinced that she was somehow changed by the experience. It was almost as though she had become accustomed to her body as it was restrained in the costume and worried that when she was released she would strip off the latex to find that she had hooves instead of hand and feet, a mane and tail or the head of a horse rather than her own.

"Rest my dear," Madame whispered in her ear, "rest and gather your strength for there is so much more that I have to teach you."