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Slave Girls in Bondage
Chapter 116
“Yes, my boyfriend said I should invite all my friends.”
“Isn’t your boyfriend, Canjac, the slaver?” Becky’s head jerked upright when Peggy read aloud from the note.
“Yes. That is what makes it so exciting.”
Yes, Canjac had invited Peggy to bring along all friends to the ponygirl races. Peggy was beautiful and sexy. She had spent the last several days training as a pony girl, and now Canjac was taking her to the pony girl races.
Peggy failed to connect the dots.
All Peggy’s friends wanted to go to the ponygirl races, as they had never been there before. They all jumped at the opportunity to go, particularly once they learned that Canjac had rented a box the remainder of the season. They could watch the races in the luxury they deserved.
He sent a carriage to take them. He hoped for three or four. Eight was a little more than what the carriage could handle. They all fit in by sitting on one another’s laps.
They were impressed when they arrived at the gate, discovering that there were VIP passes waiting for them. They did not have to buy tickets, did not have to wait in line, or did not have to spend money. All they had to do was walk through the gate. Scantily clad slave girls showed them to his box.
They had to wait only a few minutes before Canjac showed up.
“Is everything being taken care?”
He made a quick headcount as his eyes slid across the group. There were nine young women there – Peggy and eight of her friends.
They answered his question with a roar of affirmative responses, jerking heads up and down enthusiastically at the same time.
“You’ll come with me, I have something you might be interested in.”
The girls followed the slaver from the box. The entrance was in the back so they had to walk away from the track, down the steps and then through a slight tunnel to the front of the stands.
As they walked, two girls began to giggle. One tugged on Peggy’s sleeve.
“You know, your boyfriend is cute,” she whispered.
Canjac conducted them on the front of the stands toward the paddock area. He flashed his VIP pass, which got him into the area. As his guests, all the girls could come also.
Ahead of them were the long low buildings where ponygirls were prepared for races. They walked past the first two. The third was their destination. He led them to a stall where a sulky awaited them.
“Here it is.”
While the girls were not that familiar with pony girl races, they knew this was a sulky, that it was some type of the wagon that was towed by ponygirls. They did not see how this was remarkable. It was not worth the time to come down here.
“So what?”
Canjac showed her his program. Peggy was an entry in the fourth race, the housewife scramble.
“Okay, you are not housewife but I have you entered the race. That was why you were undergoing all that training.”
Peggy’s eyes lit up. She was going to be bound in public and forced to parade around naked! Does life get any better than this? Since this was a consensual race, there would no real stigma attached to her actions.
Her friends would have something to say about it. She was certain that many of the comments would be sparked by jealousy.
“Step in here and we will get you ready.”
Peggy recognized two men waiting outside. They had helped bring her here for training. A quartet of French Maids accompanied them. They were going to dress her in a proper ponygirl outfit.
Before they could start, one man slipped a black leather blindfold over her eyes. Another held her by the upper arms so he could guide her inside the stall. Her friends crowded around the open door.
The first item for Peggy was a pair of bright crimson latex panties. These were quite small and somewhat delicate so it took two French Maids to get them on her. They worked carefully to keep from damaging the item because they were so tight.
The panties were briefs, but that was not a fair description of them. In front, a triangular hole allowed anyone to see her pubic hair. A similar pair of holes in back allowed the roundest part of her fanny to stick through. The pristine whiteness of her bottom cheeks provided a startling contrast with the deep hue of the panties. The tight panties forced her bottom cheeks to bulge through the holes.
The next item was a black leather corset. One French Maid held it in place while another laced it up the front.
Two more worked on the captive’s arms. One held leather; fingerless glove while the other laced it up from the fingertips to the upper arm. The lacings had to be loosened for the gloves to come off, and without the use of her fingers, there was no way the wearer could do it.
They pulled her arms behind her back. A short chain linked a leather cuff about each wrist to the corset by a short chain. While she could move her arms about a little, she had no means of freeing herself, or using her hands or arms to protect her body.
Before going to work on her head, they had her kneel.
The new gag was a bit gag with a harness. Peggy explored it with her tongue as Canjac pulled the ends of the strap together behind her head. The gag was no more than a centimeter in diameter. She quickly concluded that wearing it was much more comfortable than having that rubber ball rammed into her mouth.
Once they had the leather strap buckled behind her head, one French Maid looked at the man for permission to continue. He ordered her to remove the blindfold with a wave of her hand.
Peggy blinked several times as her eyes became used to the light.
The French Maids were still at work fastening more straps about the captive's head. This was no mere bit gag; it was a harness bit gag.
Peggy glanced to one side, then the other but could see nothing because of protruding leather pieces. Several straps went about her head; some held the bit gag in her mouth. Others held the blinders in place. A chinstrap kept her from opening her mouth too far.
One French Maid bunched Peggy s long hair with her hands. Another threaded it through a small loop of leather at the back of the harness.
The man moved out of sight to her right to get out of the way so the French Maids could finish their job.
The leather held the ponytail in place, but they fastened to it a large, red satin bow to complete the motif.
The man moved back in front of her to inspect the work the slave girls had done. Peggy s face was level with his crotch. She wished that gag was not in her mouth. She wanted to use her mouth to thank him for binding her this way.
"On your feet, Ponygirl."
The beautiful brunette staggered to her feet.
"Harness her up."
Peggy came to her feet when the man gave the order. With her hands secured to her corset in back, she had trouble maintaining her balance. The main grabbed her by the upper arm to keep her from falling over.
Motion over her head drew her gaze up. The bar descended before her, coming to a halt at waist-level. A French Maid pushed the bar back so it touched the corset at her waist. On each side of the corset near her hipbones were small metal rings. Two padlocks, one on the right and the other on the left, kept the sulky fastened in place.
The French Maid trotted to the man. Kneeling before her master, she offered him the keys, hoping that he would reward her submissive behavior. Peggy envied her as she could move about to show her submissiveness. After tucking the keys in a pocket, he secured the slave girl's hands behind her back with handcuffs. She curried across the room to be tethered until needed again.
Another slave girl attached the ends of the reins to rings on the bit gag where it stuck out of each side of her mouth. She pulled the far end of the leather strap over Peggy's head. The captive could not see what her sister slave did with it, but when she passed in front of her, she no longer had it.
The slave girl had locked her to a sulky. Anywhere she went, she would have to drag that device with her. The man had ordered that she be a pony girl. She was only a slave girl, totally dependent upon her master. She could do nothing but follow the orders of her master.
As they bound the tall, buxom brunette for her new role, a new plot was being developed outside. Canjac felt fingers pushing on his elbow to get his attention. A brunette’s who had accompanied Peggy motioned for him to follow her from the stall. Another followed him.
“I’m Becky. This is Chloe. We know you are.”
Well, duh.
Many people knew he was, so that did not bother him. He just raised his eyebrows. What was the point?
“You are a slaver. Will you help us turn a couple of our friends into a slave girls?”
Canjac’s immediate thought was that this was some type of trick.
“What you want?”
She pointed back toward the stall door.
“Two of our friends, Zoe and Patrice. They annoy the hell out of us. We don’t invite them along with us. They always come along anyway. We invited them this time. We think they would look good wearing a collar.”
“They are such bitches. They deserve to wear a collar. They are stuck up. Everyone agrees. We all agree that we would like to see them as slave girls.”
That was a common thought. If you have a friend who is obnoxious, or just a little more beautiful than you, what better fate than to turn her into a slave girl? The desire was natural. Slap a collar on her so you can use her beauty and sexuality as a weapon against her. Annoying voice? A ballgag will solve that.
Canjac was not one to pass up the opportunity to turn a beautiful woman into a slave girl.
“Let me think about it.”
There was little think about. He knew what he could do. He knew where he could get the equipment to do it. The only obstacle was how to lure these two beauties into willingly putting on slave collars. He had a couple of standard ways that he could use. But usually he set these things up in advance.
He thought about a new ploy. He always had plans working in the back of his mind. Without time to develop something more complicated, he would have to fall back on a ploy that always seemed to work. That was the ploy of “bait.” He made a quick headcount. Besides the two they wanted to enslave, and Peggy, there were six young women there. If all six agreed to go along with this, the other two would be forced to follow.
The only problem he faced then was the moral dilemma of keeping these six as slave girls, or fulfilling his end of the bargain and letting them go afterwards.
There was no timeframe though. He could delay the decision for a while.
He motioned Becky over to him. Chloe trotted along after her.
“There would be a cost.”
“We will pay it.”
“No, I’m talking about a cost of dignity and self-respect.”
Her eyes opened wide in horror as she wondered just what he intended to do.
“You know I don’t go around enslaving women on a whim.”
She nodded. She had heard that from Peggy.
“To persuade a woman she wants to wear a collar takes time, and time is something we do not have.”
“You can’t do it?”
“Let me finish. The herd mentality always works.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
“What?”
“You say, ‘you know, Peggy looks awful cute as a ponygirl, I would kind of like to harnessed as a ponygirl.’ Your friends chime in, agreeing. I point out that I don’t have the time or equipment, however…”
“However, you could dress us as slave girls.”
“Precisely. You discuss it among yourselves and agree. With six of you wanting to wear collars, the other two will have to go along.”
“You’ll let us go, won’t you?”
“It’s not my policy, but in this case, since you are friends of Peggy, I’ll make an exception. Afterwards. You watch the race as slave girls, then I take you all back to my place. Once they are inside the walls, I let you go and they disappear.”
“We’ll have to talk about it.”
“Sure. Just make up your mind in time to get you ready for the race.”
“There is one more thing. Once you are dressed as slave girls, it will be pretty hard to tell you apart. I will have you line up facing a wall. You,” he said pointing to Becky, “Be the last one in line. Using your fingers, tell me which number they are in line before you take your place in the line.”
“From the right or the left?”
Canjac could not wait to get a ballgag into this brunette’s mouth.
“The right.”
By then, they had Peggy harnessed up to the sulky. All her friends gathered round, gently caressing her titties and pubic region since she was not in the position to resist or protest.
Canjac had brought along one of his more experience slave girls, Sheila, to serve as the jockey for the race.
Behind the stable there was a small track where the ponygirls could loosen up for the contest. They bound the driver in position on the seat of the sulky. When they released the brake, she directed Peggy from the stall, across the front of the building and around in back. Canjac, his men, and the eight girls followed.
“That looks like fun. Could you dress me up as a ponygirl?”
There were a couple murmurs of agreement.
“I really don’t have the time before the race.” Canjac looked back where Peggy completed a turn at the far end of the oval. “If you want to feel what it is like to be helpless, I could tie you up as a slave girl and let you watch the race from my box on your knees.
“I hear Peggy does that all the time,”
“My cousin and I were playing and she tied me up and let me alone in my bedroom all afternoon.”
The girls huddled together to discuss the idea. Well, to be more precise, six girls huddled together while the other two stood behind them with worried frowns on their faces.
“What would we have to do?”
“Would we be naked?”
“I can get some slave girl outfits if you would prefer. You would have to sign a release. At the end of the race I would let you go.”
The six huddled again. The Canjac had to suppress a smile. The little conniving little bitches had done something like this before. Five young women were in favor and one was opposed. The one was quickly won over.
“What about the two of you? Are you in? I’ll do it if you will.”
Oh, the pressure of peer acceptance. That was why the bait ploy was so successful.
“Okay, we will do it. Only you got to promise to let us go at the end.”
“Since you are friends of Peggy, I would not think of double-crossing you.”
Canjac hated to spend the money for the equipment since he had so much of it back at his compound, but he did not have time to send someone for it. He found a supply store inside the racetrack where he was able to purchase eight collar, eight pairs of high-heeled sandals, eight ballgags and eight pink, satin slave girl outfits.
The simple fact that they sold this type of equipment inside the racetrack convinced Canjac that it was no uncommon for a woman to come to the racetrack as a free woman, but to leave as a slave girl.
“The first thing you need to do is sign these release forms. They say you are doing this voluntarily. I don’t want to get into trouble for this.”
Had any of the girls taken the time to read the fine print, they would have seen that these were the standard release forms when a woman wanted to be a slave girl. When a woman signed this form, she was allowing herself to be turned into a slave girl. It was a legal document, one that would keep Canjac from being fined for putting a collar on the eight. (They, of course, would remain as slave girls.)
As each woman handed him the signed form, he handed her a pile of clothing. They could get undressed and redressed in the stall with the door closed.
All eight wore slacks of some sort. They peeled these off along with the tops, panties and bras. Once naked they put on the skimpy outfit slave girls wore. The panties were black satin bikini-style that were held in place by a bow on each hip. They spent most of their time trying to get the item only right.
The flared miniskirt was next. This did not take long as it was held together by four simple snaps that held the edges together.
The top was a halter-top that covered the nipples and little else.
The comment “Maybe I should have asked him to get me an extra large” elicited snickers as these came only in one size. A slave girl was judged by the size of her titties. Every face was beautiful with a ballgag tightly wedged between the teeth. And all cunts looked the same. About the only differences were the color of the hair and the size of the tits.
The shoes were last. They were easy to get on, but with the 15-centimeter heels, the young women had a difficult time walking around in them. Once on they walked around in a small circle in the stall trying to get used to them.
“Are you about ready?” Canjac called out as he knocked on the door. “The first race is about to start.”
The door swung open partway, pushed from within.
“I never knew a slave girl had to work so hard in these.”
“If you girls will form a line facing that wall, we will begin.”
Seven of the young women moved to the wall Canjac had indicated. Becky turned toward the slaver so her back was to them. She raised both hands, two finger on one hand, three on the other.
She then joined the line. They faced it, but each looked over her left shoulder to see what Canjac was going to do to them. He left the stall to retrieve a small box he had left outside. He dropped it midway down the line. He pulled out two pairs of handcuffs. One pair he slung over his right shoulder. The other he opened as he moved to the first woman in the line.
“Hands behind your back.”
Canjac moved down the line locking each woman’s hands behind her back. After every two young women he had to return to the box for another two pair of handcuffs. When he reached the end of the line, he returned to the box. Bondage was only the first step of turning a woman into a slave girl. The next step was the application of a gag. He selected the most common gag for them – a ballgag.
“Open wide.”
While a girl might allow herself to be bound, being gagged was another matter. Without a gag she could always call out for help. None of the girls could stop Canjac from applying a gag.
If a woman did not want him to gag her, she could stop him merely by keeping her mouth closed. Canjac held the ballgag to the woman’s lips. Her bottom lip stuck out for a few seconds before she opened her mouth so he could insert it.
She felt him pulling the ends of the strap behind her back. When he had it buckled tight enough so she could not push the rubber ball out with her tongue, he inserted the pin through a hole and tucked the working end through the buckle.
She turned her head to the right as he moved in that direction. The young woman to her right turned her head to look toward her. Canjac already had the ballgag out for her. Perhaps she had worn a ballgag before, but the expression on her face showed shock at the size of the rubber ball.
Canjac slowly moved down the line, fastening one ballgag after another.
Had these been trained slave girls, they would have ignored him to stare at the wall before them. All eight turned to see what he was up to.
Once again he moved down the line. This time he fastened a black leather slave collar about the throat of each young woman. He slipped a string about the leather collars of Zoe and Patrice before looking their collars. This would make it easy to identify them.
He needed one more trip down the line.
“Turn around.”
Each woman had to face him, then lean forward to press her throat against the black leather slave collar. Canjac pulled the ends behind her head to buckle them together. Once he had the collar locked, he pulled the pins from their hair to allow it to fall down.
Since he had signed release forms from them, they were slave girls officially.
“I’m going to take you to my box. Don’t worry about anyone recognizing you. Anyone who sees you will be staring at you tits or legs. You do the same thing. Every man you see, you will stare at his crotch. If it is a woman, you stare at her tits.”
Canjac had the chain leashes with him. He took the first girl in the line, the one on the extreme left, and turned her so she faced the door. He moved the second so she faced in the same direction about a meter behind her. The two-meter chain leash ran from the back of the first slave girl’s collar, to the front of the second. He worked his way down the line, securing them in a coffle.
“If you see a slave girl, you do a comparison to see if she is more beautiful and sexy than you are. I assure you, that every slave girl who sees you will be doing the same.”
Canjac moved to the head of the coffle where he attached a leash to the collar of the first girl.
“Forward.”
Panic set in once they were out in public. That did not last long as they realized no one paid attention to them. One or two men stared for a few seconds, but most gave them a brief glance. Sure, they all were attractive and sexy, but there were many slave girls such as that.
They met their first slave girls as they left the paddock area. They realized what Canjac had said was true. The slave girls did stare at them. They were measuring them up.
“They must feel bad knowing I am more beautiful and sexy than they are,” each of the eight thought. Yes, each slave girl they met had the same thought.
The part of Canjac’s private box where the slave girls would watch a race was in front. The seats behind them were higher so the men and women had a better view.
Canjac removed the chain leash from the back of the first captive’s collar and attached it to a ring on the wall. All the while he kept a tight grip on the leash of the first captive. He then used it to lead her forward.
The area where the slave girls knelt was not flat. There was a “vee” projection in the floor so the captive had to kneel with her legs spread. There were few reasons to bring a slave girl to ponygirl races. The main reason was for some form of humiliation.
Perhaps a slave girl had vowed to free her sister from her slavery. Instead she ends up with a collar. Her master or mistress takes her to the races so she can watch her sister’s degradation as a ponygirl.
Perhaps a woman is new to a collar. Her master or mistress takes her to the ponygirl races after informing her that tomorrow she begins training as a ponygirl.
In most cases, the slave girls who view the races are new to a collar. The device forces them to keep their legs spread. As it is, their pussies are at eyelevel for anyone walking past.
Once she knelt, Canjac passed leather straps over her ankles so she could not rise. The last action (of securing her in place) was to attach her leash to a ring on the railing before her.
They were all alone and helpless!
The naked women were a delightful diversion, but Canjac had a purpose for being there. He had entered Peggy in the “Housewives Scramble” and he wanted her to win.
One of his men who helped train the long-legged beauty had her behind the stable. He ran beside her, one hand gripping her harness as they trotted up and down the short track.
That part seemed to be going well so he turned his attention to the other two parts of the race. The men had disassembled the sulky, applying a liberal amount of grease where it mattered. If Peggy did not win, it would not be because of equipment failure.
The final component was the driver. This was Sheila. The redhead had suffered through training as rigorous as Peggy’s had been, though quite different.
She stood outside the stall door, tethered to a ring on the wall. A ballgag filled her mouth and black leather blindfold covered her eyes. She did not react when she heard him approach. Many men had come and gone while she stood there.
She did react through when he reached around her body to grab her by the tits.
“If you don’t win, you will be severely punished. Perhaps I will even sell you in the slave market.”
That was enough to frighten any slave girl. True, none knew what went on there, but they knew that a slave placed there would be sold to the highest bidder. Money alone determined their fate. No negotiated deals or compensation for a job well done.
When he returned to the back of the stable, the man walked Peggy up and down the track. He knew just how much exercise she needed to be limber. He did not want her to tire out.
The two men with the sulky stood there watching Peggy parade back and forth. There was no lust in their eyes, only a glint of appreciation for a well-trained slave girl.
Before Canjac could say anything to them, the horns signaled the beginning of the first race.
They treated Peggy as they would any other slave girl. They told her nothing of what was about to happen to her. When time came to fasten her to the sulky, they did so, giving her only the directions they needed to get her in place.
They brought the crossbar down so it passed in front of the buxom brunette’s body. Nudging her forward a little they pressed her body against it so they could fasten a padlock between the ring on it and a ring on the front of her cuirass. With that done, Peggy could not go anywhere without dragging the sulky with her.
The missing element was the driver. They brought Sheila up to the sulky, still bound. They helped her into the seat, strapping her in place with her legs spread. One man placed the whip in a holder on her right. They did not free her yet. They did not want her using the whip on the ponygirl until the race began.
The man who had been exercising Peggy earlier grabbed her by the harness so he could lead her toward the track.
The race was not ready to start but they wanted Peggy to get some exercise pulling the sulky before it was for real. They moved past the barns where others were getting ponygirls ready for other races. Two men trailed along behind the sulky as they moved along. At the end of the area, they turned about and came back.
Peggy knew she was at a racetrack but had no idea what she was to do. She did not know about the “Housewife’s Scramble.” She knew pony girls raced there. They always seemed to be experienced so she did not believe she was good enough o run against pros.
Canjac thought otherwise, and as we all know, Peggy’s opinion did not matter.
At the sound of the trumpet, they led her through a gate in the direction of the track. Once through another gate, she was where everyone could see her.
Surprisingly (or not), the fact she was in public where everyone could see her essentially naked body did not disturb Peggy as much as the thought that she would be running against experienced ponygirls.
When the ponygirl and sulky were in position, the man removed the whip and handed it to the slave girl. She had raced several times before so she knew what to do. When the signal was given, she flicked the whip so the end cracked against bottom of the naked beauty before her.
Peggy started forward at a run, her long legs flashing as the tip of the whip flicked against one bottom check then the other.
The blinders did their job, keeping the ponygirl was seeing what was on either side of her. She could not judge if anyone was near her. She did as they had trained her – she merely ran as fast as she could.
The gradual curve of the track made it appear that she ran forward in a straight line. Ahead of her was open track. They had come off of turn number two and were approaching the next long stretch.
As quickly as it had started, the race was over.
Peggy wondered if she had won. No one was in sight when she entered the backstretch, but she knew the blinders would keep her from seeing anyone near her.
They made a second lap about the track, this one more leisurely than the first. After that lap, they exited the track at the gate in turn number three. The ponygirls for the next race where already being brought forward through the gate in turn number four.
Canjac led his captives one at a time to the back of the stands where he tethered the first to a ring on the wall. The attached the leash of the second to the ring on the back of her collar. He tethered each in like manner so they formed a coffle. When he had all there, the leading tether attached to the back of the collar belong to the slave before her. When he had all them secured together, he led them forward to the staging area where Peggy waited.
From the sounds of everyone congratulating Canjac, Peggy realized she must have won the face.
The tall brunette stood there, still bound to the sulky. She had done so well that Canjac intended to let her carry him home.
First though, a coffle of eight slave girls had to be attached to the rear of the sulky. Peggy wondered where they had come from. She looked in vain for her friends. (Remember, she was being bound as a ponygirl when this plot was hatched so she had no idea what had happened to her friends.) She guessed they were so jealous that they had not waited around to congratulate her on the fine race run.
Canjac tethered his captives to the back of the sulky. They would enjoy the walk home. What girl didn’t like being paraded about in public bound and dressed as a slave girl?
They did not take the direct route back to his compound. He knew the women following him would appreciate their freedom more when they thought he had double-crossed them.
The door was closed when they arrived at Canjac’s compound. He pulled the brake back before dismounting. Rather than try the high bay door, which he was certain would be locked, he hammered on a smaller door to the side with his fist. Since this was near one of the main training areas, it did not take long for someone to open it.
A couple minutes later, two men pushed the door open. As soon as it was open a meter, a man slipped through to get to the sulky. By the time they had it open, he was in the seat with the brake off.
He directed Peggy into the building, then had her circle about so she faced the open door. He stopped the sulky by pulling back on the reins and set the brake.
The eight little captives were led to a wall where they were tethered. The men checked the collars for string, and separated those two. Two men led those two away, while two other men worked their way down the line, removing the satin slave girl outfits from the remaining six.
In a few minutes the two returned to get two of the captives. Where they Becky and Chloe? It doesn’t matter. They all were in on this.
They were so concerned about being naked and helpless before these men, that they did not notice the pair of bare bottoms before them.
Zoe and Patrice were bound over padded bars, their legs spread and their wrists chained to rings in the floor. Two more pairs of chains insured neither captive could pull her legs together.
Canjac stood to the left. He patted the nearer captive on the rump.
“You do recognize Zoe, don’t you? And that is Patrice over there? Or is this Patrice and that Zoe? You know, when a woman is bound in this position, all pussies look pretty much the same.
“Since we are here to party, do you two want to be the first to insure that Zoe and Patrice have a good time?”
The kneeling captives nodded.
“Come to your feet. We have toys for you to play with.”
Neither of the two had ever worn a strap on before. Leather straps went about waists and thighs. A fifty-centimeter dildo protruded from each crotch.
“Move forward slowly. Let my men guide the end in.”
“Mmmmmfffffttttt!!!”
“Mmmmmfffffttttt!!!”
When they were finished, the men ran chains from the bars to the thigh straps.
“This will insure that you cannot pull it out. You can shove it in as far as you wish, but when you try to pull it out, it will stop your with the crown still in a pussy.”
He smiled at them.
“Let’s see who can make them scream first.”
There was nothing the two captives could do but suffer through one orgasm after another. Neither could imagine that being tied up could feet so good.
Canjac gave the first two ten minutes, before signaling his men to bring the next two forward.
The first two expected Canjac to release them but instead he attached a chain leash to each collar, and used it to lead the captives to more bars.
“You have had an exhausting day. Why don’t you rest by laying across these while the next two have their turn.”
These two were well aware that their pussies would be visible. Since they had no other options, they obeyed. Canjac locked the end of the leash to rings on the floor so they could not straighten up. He moved behind them to use chains to keep their legs spread.
When the ten minutes allotted to the second pair was done, they took their place to the left. When the final two were done, they also were bound in that position.
All six were whimpering as they waited. Less than ten minutes later, Canjac was back with a surprise.
“Since the six of your gave Zoe and Patrice such a thrill, it is only fitting that they do the same to you.”
The six thought the two would be wearing strap on dildos, but when Canjac forced them to their knees so the captives could get a better view, they saw that they wore dildo gags. (They were double dildo gags, but none of the six cared what kind of gag the two wore.
The two were positioned behind the first two. Chains between their collars and rings on the bars insured they could not pull the dildo outs out. All they could do was ram their faces forward into the bare buttocks of their friend. The chain would allow them to pull the dildo out most of the way. They then rammed it forward.
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