Completely encased in living latex, entubed, plugged, corsetted, forced to view the world through tiny tinted mirrored lenses, teetering on seven inch stilletoes glued to her rubberised feet and serving as combination personal assistant, maid and bed warmer for the Mistress of the house, Elisabeth still considered herself far luckier than the girls assigned to the stables.

She made sure the new ponygirls' harness was securely fastened and locked. Once Mistress was off on her jaunt round the grounds she would go and make the bed that they shared, her muscles tightened around the thick shafts embedded deep in her belly at the thought, these girls would be strapped up and packed away after the ride, writhing and mewling helplessly to themselves, whilst Mistress would wrap herself round Elisabeth's stringently bound form and snuggle close for the night...