Pony Ranch

Chapter 17

“Not a bad showing for a small-scale auction. Quite respectable even,” Mandy commented, looking about and then waving to an elderly lady who hurried into the tent, looking a little flustered. She also seemed somewhat out of breath and promptly took the seat one of the helpful ushers directed her towards. Once seated, the woman immediately craned around and waved back, mouthing, ‘Traffic,’ at least I was pretty sure that's what she meant.

To be strictly accurate, it wasn’t a tent. It was one of those large white marquees people hire for weddings, village fetes, and similar functions. Well, I suppose it was a tent, for it was made of canvas or something similar and had poles plus lots of ropes and pegs to hold it up, so by definition, it was a tent! Had it been hired, or did it belong to Sir Jefferey, I wondered, and when had it been put….no erected was the correct term, wasn’t it?

I couldn’t help but giggle as the word popped into my head, glancing towards the nattily dressed young ushers, who all wore identical purple outfits apart from their glossy black riding boots. Young Suzy commented on them as we looked around the big marquee and the restrained figures standing on podiums down the sides. “Looks like we’ve got some big boys here unless they’ve been stuffing their Y-fronts with tissue paper or something. I’m surprised they can walk in those pretty purple pants!”

 I assumed they were the young grooms from the stables and thought I recognised the youth who’d been helpful yesterday and were acting as ushers and guides for the event. All were identically clad in glossy black boots, tight, well more leggings than pants that left little to the imagination front or back and similar short-sleeved clingy tops with a purple neckerchief topping off the outfits. They did look good, though, and I noticed Suzy’s gaze following them about with a thoughtful expression on her pretty face.

“Forget it, Honey”, Sarah had whispered in her ear. “They’re all gay, so I wouldn’t waste any ammunition on them!”

Suzy muttered, “Not the only ones then”, somewhat sourly half to herself.

I grinned, wondering how the girl had the energy to think about such things this morning. She’d been late for breakfast and looking somewhat tousled when she finally appeared and ignored the ‘rough night, Sweetie’ Mandy threw at her. Merely scowled and helped herself to coffee. Had she even slept in her own bed?

Mandy had suggested we dine early and then turn in so we’d have a lovely meal, downed a couple of bottles of excellent wine, and retired happily to our rooms. At least Mandy and I had. Sarah opened the door to hers, then reached out, grabbed young Suzy by one arm, and hauled the slightly tipsy young blonde girl into her bedroom. “For old time's sake”, she’d laughed with a knowing wink as she blocked young Suzy’s escape and closed the door.

I’m not a big drinker and couldn’t remember the last time I’d drunk that many glasses of wine, but they proved a useful sleeping potion. It was just as well because whoever had gutted that old stable to convert into bedrooms hadn’t replicated the stout outer stone walls when putting up the inner dividing ones. I could hear every giggle, spank, slap and tickle, not to mention squeal and howl from the adjoining room! Lord knows how long it went on for, but thankfully, all that unaccustomed alcohol kicked in quickly, and I zonked till my travel alarm woke me.

Anyway, that had been a few hours earlier, and by the time we’d all pouted into our bedroom mirrors,  powdered, painted and put on our finery, it had been time to return to Sir Jefferys's place. Suzy had still been muttering and glowering as she climbed into the car beside me.

“S-up, Sweetie I grinned at her as we set off. It sounded like you were having fun last night; at least it did before I crashed out!”

“Yeah, well, you aren’t the one with a bruised bum, a sore pussy and an exhausted tongue, are you!” she retorted and added, “Fuck off!” in response to Sarah's snigger from the front passenger seat.

Her ill-tempered mood only lasted for the first mile or so, and by the time we followed an enormous, shocking pink SUV through Sir Jeffery's front gates, the girl was back to normal. “Who owns that big ugly thing, I wonder? It’s a bit garish. Not exactly what you’d call discrete!”

”Like its fucking owner!” Mandy growled as Sarah quickly twisted in her seat and put a finger on her lips as a warning gesture. Evidently, it was not a topic for discussion if her boss was around, so we stayed silent as we followed the, well, ostentatious pink vehicle around the house to a paddock that had rows of more sobre cars, vans and a couple of horse boxes at one end and several large white tents at the other. Mandy, I noted, ignored the empty spaces adjacent to where the eye-catching SUV had just parked and drove down the line of vehicles to park at the opposite end, nearer to the first of three large Marquees.

Thankfully, I’d been forewarned to pack a ‘posh frock’ or something similar for the sale day but to forget heels and stick to sensible flats. Good advice, I thought as I climbed out of the car and felt the damp grass feeling squishy underfoot. It was not the terrain for stilettos, not that I wore them anyway. My heel limit was two inches, and chunky ones at that on boots and shoes.

I hadn’t opted for a frock but rather a simple belted beige skirt and sleeveless top that I thought looked rather elegant, which also happened to be about the most expensive item in my wardrobe, bought for a cousin's wedding some years back. Suzy had taken one look and promptly said, “Snap”, for hers was a tad similar. Only in white, and her skirt was considerably shorter and pleated and looked rather like a tennis outfit, although her smart red trainers probably wouldn’t have gone down well with Wimbledon purists.

“Not bad,” Sarah conceded as we headed for the car. “That skirts a bit short on material, though,  Sweetie. I trust you’ve got matching frilly tennis panties underneath to hide last night's….”

“Fuck off, bitch!” Suzy snapped. “And if my butt is glowing through them like a bloody beacon, we know who’s fucking responsible don’t we!” the girl made a rude finger gesture behind her back in Sarah’s direction as she climbed into the rear of the vehicle.

“Better not offer her a cushion!” Mandy chuckled to us as she opened the driver's door. “Here, hold this for me.” She removed her elegant, flouncy-brimmed sun hat and handed it to Sarah.

Naturally, Mandy looked like she was about to do a Vogue magazine cover shoot. The sort of elegant silk designer frock that had probably cost several thousand pounds or dollars,  the currency being pretty immaterial at that price. Matching shoulder-length long black silk opera gloves and that black sun hat with its ruffled brim completed the outfit, along with gloss low-heeled court shoes. Cool, collected and uber chic!

Big Sarah, on the other hand, looked less so. She’d opted for what she’d cheerfully described as her Chairman Mao outfit. A light grey trouser suit that kind of resembled the austere outfits that aged communist leaders habitually wore. It also looked expensive in terms of the cut and material, and more importantly, I thought it suited her perfectly.

“Fucking Hell, who planned this fucking shit hole!”  It was the driver of the big pink SUV who was having problems navigating the soft ground. I’d had one eye on her from the moment she’d made a delayed exit from her big pink vehicle and seemed to be arguing with the lovely young lad who’d been so polite to us yesterday—the one with the big stallion who’d spoken to us outside the stable. Mandy had taken one look, snorted derisively and muttered something inaudible, but from her tone, not very complimentary!

We didn’t stop, although Suzy did chuckle as we strode purposely onwards towards the first tent, marquee, or whatever you want to call it. Another purple-clad groom standing near the entrance hurried forward and, with a polite nod in our direction, hastened to the foul-mouthed woman's assistance. I knew her, of course, not personally, but by sight, and I might add reputation. Her assorted antics in and out of the bedroom had been standard tabloid gutter press fodder for years, so who didn't?

A blonde (dyed), busty (silicon aided), outwardly sweet (naturally nasty) one-time sixteen-year-old model and centrefold who’d displayed an admirable if ruthless ambition to succeed. A face who, in the current era, was probably the national reigning queen of so-called celebs and social influencers. One whose ‘look’ was still faithfully copied by thousands of other sixteen-year-old wannabe models despite their fading idol now being somewhat more than two and a half times that age and virtually a pertinent resident at an overseas plastic surgery clinic undergoing her latest boob, lip or facial job. A battle against the inevitable her surgeon was losing.

“Oh, it’s her!” Suzy noted flatly the tone of her voice, indicating that she was neither impressed nor likely to be influenced by the woman. Hardly surprising, I thought, for I felt the woman looked slightly freakish. If it had been her ambition to end up looking like one of those odd-looking elderly women sunning themselves in Floria or California who have had a few facelifts to many, she’d achieved that ambition in half the usual time!

“Now, no dawdling ladies”, Mandy chided us as Suzy, and I paused to watch the little scene being enacted halfway down the parking area. That advice about ‘flats and a posh frock’ had not been given or, knowing something of the woman’s flamboyant reputation, probably ignored, so she only had herself to blame. The four of us were attired somewhat appropriately for a social event at a country house, regardless of the nature of the event. Unlike that foul-mouthed so-called celeb who seemed to think she was attending fetish night at a prominent London nightclub. Leather catsuit with the front unzipped far enough to display a vast cleavage, tight waspie belt and gleaming thigh boots with six-inch stiletto heels, all in that same vibrant pink as her oversized vehicle.

“Get your fucking hands off me!”

“Poor boy”, Suzy chuckled. “He’s just trying to help get her foot unstuck. She’ll have to tiptoe if she wants to wear those silly boots!”

“Or get a piggyback ride”, Sarah chuckled.

“Shame!” Mandy observed as we arrived at the marquee entrance. She did not bother looking back, and there wasn’t the slightest hint of sympathy in that single word—indeed, much the opposite! Her attention was focused elsewhere, so she didn’t see the questioning look I flashed at Sarah, who winked and jerked her head. I fell in beside her as she leaned into me and whispered.

“I don’t know the whole story, but I gather the bitch bad-mouthed and snubbed Mandy at some social event they both attended. One of those high-brow charity events with a royal presence. I’ve no idea what actually happened, only that she was somehow snubbed and humiliated in public by that silly tart! Bob wouldn’t give me any details, but she was in a god-awful mood for a fortnight, and I must have come damn near getting sacked trying to prevent her from killing the ponies. Yes, we’ve all worked off a bad mood from time to time upon helpless pony hide. It’s very satisfying, but she was so hyped up it was frightening. Not like her at all!”

Mandy stood by the tent entrance, waiting for us to catch up. She looked from Sarah to me but refrained from saying anything. Then, she led the way inside to where another purple-clad figure was hovering—a man rather than a youth this time.

“Nothing fancy, Ma’am, ladies. Just the basics”, he said, handing each of us a couple of A4 sheets of paper. He was tall, thin, and balding, with a relatively narrow angular face and prominent goatee beard. He paused as another burst of foul-mouthed invective floated through the opening, and his eyebrows twitched. “Is that who I think it is?”

“Spot on, Simon”, Mandy replied. “And how are you? I’ve not seen you for quite a while. That outfit is…”

“Bloody awful, I know!” he sighed. “It was young Miss Charlie's idea; she thought we all should look alike. I’m told,” he said, fingering his purple shirt, “I heard Sir Jeffery bought them as a job lot from a sale of theatrical costumes, one of those shows that barely made it past its opening night before the curtain came down for good.” He frowned down at his outfit. “I can’t say I’m surprised either! But otherwise, I’m doing very well, thank you. How is Mr Bob?”

“Equally well and good and in fine fettle, I’ll…….” She stopped as another steam of foul language rose to a near hysterical screech, accompanied by a young man’s desperate attempts to apologise. “Perhaps you’d better…”

“Yes, I better had”, Simon replied, looking out through the entrance with a frown. “and I know precisely what assistance to call upon. Please excuse me”. 

Mandy nodded, then turned to look at the rest of us. “We’ll do the rounds this way, I think”, Mandy decided, waving her gloved hand to the left. “Have a peek at the livestock on display, and I’ll introduce you as we go” Her head quickly swerved side to side as she looked up and down the tented enclosure. “I’ll probably know everybody who’s here. Follow me….ah, thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

Her last remark was addressed to another smiling purple-clad youth who suddenly appeared with a tray of champagne flutes, all busily bubbling away and looking decidedly tempting as he offered the tray to us.

“You’re driving, and I will be counting so cheers! Sarah cautioned her boss as she took a glass. Mandy did likewise and promptly did what Suzy often did: she stuck her tongue out by way of a reply. Sarah chuckled and said, “Well, I’m going to go the other way and circulate some; I spy one or two faces I’ve not seen for a while. We can chat about…” She gestured to the sale lots arranged around the big marquee. “over lunch”.

“It is a bit primitive, isn’t it!” Suzy was examining the … well, I’d hardly call two sheets of printed A4 paper stapled together a sales brochure, but also, looking at it, I suppose it was adequate. It gave a brief description and the history of each of the lots….well, that’s what the document called them. The livestock on sale that day, and it didn’t need any glossy pictures, for they were there in the flesh, literally for us to see and I presumed to touch. Was that permitted? I wondered and thought, well, I’m about to find out.

“Keep your fucking boots and shoes, I like my fucking heels and I’m fucking well keeping them. What kind of an event are you running in this…this fucking pig pen of a place. I’m a dom, D.O.M.I.N.A.N.T, you cretins, and I’ll damn well dress like one!”

 “Follow me, ladies, and keep up,” Mandy ordered crisply again, without so much as a glance towards the disturbance outside the entrance as she turned on her heel. Suzy and I grinned at each other and meekly did as we’d been told, both of us pretending to be absorbed in the sales sheets rather than chuckling aloud.

My first livestock sale I thought looking about with interest even if Mandy had decried it as being small and pretty low-key as such things went. That didn’t bother me as I followed my vastly more experienced friend around. I’d read about such events, fictional ones, of course, in numerous books and stories but had never thought I’d be attending one in the flesh, and yes, there was some flesh on display! Then again, how could I have envisaged anything that had happened in the last half-year or so?

Left to myself, I would have set out a bit earlier and willingly skipped lunch to spend more time perusing the two-legged stock on offer. Still, I was under Mandy’s wing, her guest and attending via her invitation. However, in a somewhat jovial mood when we encountered him later during lunch, Sir Jeffery assured me I’d receive my own invitation for such events from now on. “I’ll personally make sure you’re on the list, my dear,” he told me. I wonder what list he meant, presumably one that circulated among such…. such criminal, sadistic perverts like myself. I squirmed inwardly when I thought that, but it was true, was it not?

Primarily, thanks to Mandy dithering about and changing her mind about what she would wear, we’d been among the last to arrive and regrettably had less chance to browse the merchandise, if that’s the correct term, or maybe assess would be better. Of course, I could have skipped lunch, but then I would have lost the opportunity to socialise, and being the newbie, would I be upsetting etiquette by doing so? Besides, I was hungry, having only fancied a small croissant for breakfast!

*****

Suzy took my elbow and propelled me forward. While I’d been looking about and thinking of other things, Mandy had strolled over to join the older woman she’d waved to just after we who’d been escorted to a convenient seat.

“More than attended his last one, anyway, " Mandy told me over her shoulder. “Mind you, that was pretty meagre. There were only three lots, none of which were worth the trip over! “Hello Helen, how are you these days? I’ve not seen you in an age, not since I competed against Judith in Dubai, and that must be what…”

“Poof!” the elderly lady puffed out her cheeks and said, “Thank you, dear, that was very perceptive of you” to the purple-clad, hovering young attendant who’d quickly found a chair for her. “What a horrible colour, who on earth….no, don’t tell me, I can guess! Now run along, young man; I’m sure you’ve more important things to go than worry about than some clapped-out old lady whose legs have gone. Now shoo and head off your friend with the tray of glasses; otherwise, these legs will collapse!”

The woman gave him a lovely smile, dismissed him with a languid wave of a gloved hand, and then turned to Mandy. “Five years and almost to the day. I celebrated my seventy-fifth birthday out there, if you recall, as well as Judith’s comprehensive victory over you in the dressage arena. I shall turn eighty the week after next, and “ she sighed, then gave a short cackling laugh. “…don’t I bloody well feel it!”

“You look it too, you old crone!” Mandy told her, bending to kiss the woman's cheek. “I got my revenge the following month, don’t forget, and again at the event William hosted after that, and you know damn well that was Devines first public performance, so don’t be so mean and horrible!”

“Don’t be silly, girl; if I wasn’t mean and nasty, I wouldn’t be here, would I? Nor you, for that matter, and I nearly didn’t come. Judith has taken over full-time, and I’ve moved into the granny annexe, the old gamekeeper's cottage. By choice, I might add, and it's been very nicely renovated. Who are these two splendid gals?”

Mandy laughed and introduced us to her friend, who complimented Suzy and me on our outfits, although she didn’t like the girl's red trainers. “White, white, white, keep it simple and pure…even if you’re not”, she laughed and then turned back to Mandy. “Touch and go, whether I got here or not, as Judith was going to come initially, but then we found out it clashed with something at young Chloe’s school, so naturally, mummy had to go to that. I was tempted, but I did want to see Jeffery about a few things. Judith wasn’t happy, of course, me driving myself, but hey, I’ve never had an accident in sixty-plus years of motoring and don’t intend to start now. I probably held quite a few people up and thoroughly irritated them, though at the speed I was going,” she chuckled. “Now, where’s that boy with his tray? I think I’ve changed my mind” She stood up and stretched, then waved an age-spotted hand towards us. “Now run along and look at ponies or whatever, my dears. I’ve got my second wind, and I’m going to head down that way and find myself a glass of bubbly and see if I can find that old skinflint. I want to chat about one of his lots that piqued my interest.  I’ll catch you later for a good gossip. Bob keeping well, I trust. Still squandering all energy screwing those young colts of his?”

“Yes, and yes”, Mandy laughed as the old woman moved off somewhat sprightly, casually dismissing the offer of assistance from a purple-clad youth who promptly rushed over to aid her. Mandy chuckled and turned to face Suzy and me. “Now that’s how I want to be if I ever make ‘old bones’.  I learned the basics of two-legged equine dressage from her, and she can still handle a lunge line and whip very effectively. Despite the age difference, I’d rather compete against her daughter than her. Don’t let that sweetness fool you; she can be, indeed is, a ruthless woman in the training ring! Now, let's do as she suggested and look at the livestock before the dinner gong, or what have you, goes!”

“Was she really that good?” Suzy asked, her eyes following the receding aged figure.

“Is, not was, Sweetie”, Mandy corrected. “She can still swing a mean cane if she wants to. I competed against her several times, and she won every one of those damn competitions. Worse, female ponies were only a sideline for her and never her prime interest.  Big stallions were always her forte; the bigger and more unruly, the better, and they always pranced and danced so divinely in the dressage ring. I don't think she ever had a failure, at least not that we have heard about. Now do come on.”

*****

There were six or had been six lots up for sale. Interestingly, they used the same term for human merchandise as an auction room for furniture items and bric-a-brac. I won’t say I was astonished, certainly not as ‘gob-smacked’ as I might have been say this time last year. I’d seen and done so much since then, but still, I was finding it all a bit weird and a little odd. I didn’t mean I was frightened, but I felt slightly unsettled. I think it was primarily because of the number of people around me. In contrast, my previous experiences involved only a few, and I found this wider exposure a trifle unnerving.  

I know thirty or so is hardly a crowd, but faces kept turning our way, hands waved, and Mandy happily waved back, as did Suzy a few times. Certainly, there were far more folks around than I was used to within my limited pony scene exposure, which I suspect was partly why Mandy had invited me and to edge me out of that comfort zone my natural shyness created. I’d be the first to admit that I’d always been, indeed still was, a little bit inhibited.

Still, I suppose you could describe this as a blatant example of two worlds colliding, which was one hell of a bizarre contrast that helped squash those inhibitions. On the one hand, the smartly dressed people laughing, socialising and drinking their champagne together down at the far end and on the other…those forlorn souls standing, silent, naked and restrained on the podiums around the tent and amazingly being blatantly ignored by most of those present. I looked at my two companions, but neither seemed unduly concerned.

By the time we arrived, lot #3 on our home-printed sheets was no longer available. There was a metal stand with a sign saying WITHDRAWN in front of it, plus a bored-looking young Charlie swigging diet coke from a can via a plastic straw and standing in front of the podium where the joint lot was displayed.

Unlike the first two lots I’d been whisked past, they were a handsome pair. I assumed Father and older teenage son without needing to refer to the notes. Similar in size and build, tall, very tall, muscular and exceeding well endowed even in their shrunken, flaccid state. A giggle from Suzy told me she’d also noted that, at least, I assumed that was what had produced the giggle. Now, they would have looked magnificent in harness jointly pulling a chariot, I thought. Both items of naked merchandise were distinctly unhappy; I could see and vainly attempting to free themselves. I wondered how long it would be before they concluded that it was a futile waste of time and effort.

“Dutch,” Charlie said, removing the straw from her mouth. “They’re always big guys and the women too. Sometimes, I wish I’d been born Dutch instead; then, I might not be so tiddly!”

“In that case, you probably wouldn’t be standing there.  So what’s the story here?” Mandy demanded, pointing towards the withdrawn sign.

The girl pulled a sour face. “I’ve been put on guard duty by Grandaddy. Hands off, no one is allowed to touch them!” she chuckled as we joined her. She jerked her head backwards. “As soon as Herr Schmidt and his wife unloaded this pair, he took one look and invoked what he called ‘organisers' right to buy. ‘I’m not sure about the legality or the maybe the …what the word I’m looking for?”

“Ethics?” Maybe Suzy offered. “But I think withdrawing stuff at the last minute is fairly common in auctions…” she trailed off, looking at the podium. “Seems a little odd though still putting them on show like that though. I suppose it might have looked a bit sparse with just five lots, and the first two aren’t up to much!”.

Charlie shrugged. “Dunno, standard practice, maybe?”

“Well, if we’re going to talk ethics, young lady”, Mandy interrupted. “Thinking back to yesterday and a certain animal I brought for sale, I’m not sure you’ve any right to talk, young lady. Where’s my cheque, by the way? Ready for collection, I assume.”

Charlie tried to giggle and suck on her straw at the same time and failed miserably. “Oh, pooh, that was different”, she added once she’d recovered from her brief choking fit. “Nobody knew about Pandora, did they? She was a late addition and didn’t even make the list,” she said, nodding towards the paper in Suzy’s hand. “But these two are there in print, aren’t they!”  and then dropped her voice a little lower. “I’ve had one or two people muttering at me. That gay couple over there, those two old guys in the matching cream suits. They were pretty, like big yikes not happy when they saw that sign. I think they came specially to bid on this pair”.

Naturally, we all turned to look at the two middle-aged guys she’d nodded towards. Hardly old, I thought, but then, I wasn’t Charlie's age. I could only see them from the rear, but from the hand waving and finger-pointing, they seemed somewhat agitated as they harangued Sir Jeffery.

“Giving him hell, I expect!” Charlie chuckled before sucking on her on her straw and then seemed to remember something. “Oh, I did talk to him last night about Pandora. He promised to have a little chat with you today sometime”.

“Hmph!” Mandy snorted. “It’s a big fat cheque I want from him, not a little chat, and if he thinks Charles and Eustace are giving him a hard time, wait till he gets some verbals from me!”

My attention had been less on the exchanges between them and more on the two handsome specimens displayed on the low podium. We’d bypassed lots one and two with hardly a glance by unspoken agreement. Indeed, I’d been a little shocked to see two such aged items on sale. Livestock hardly seemed the appropriate term to use, given the sort of splendid two-legged creatures I’d become accustomed to so far.

The display podiums were about six feet square and two high with a couple of access steps. A sturdy pole rose from the centre of each, although I could see openings on the floor for another one on either side and a figure was secured to the post. A completely nude figure save for a big red ball gag, a leg spreader bar and the cuffs that held their wrist together behind them, securing them to the rigid metal post—a simple but effective means of displaying the…the merchandise on offer.

There was a metal stand next to each podium, but rather than saying withdrawn, it contained a simple printed sheet listing the basics of the human being on sale. Probably the same details as on the stapled sheets of paper we’d been given, only in this case secured to the panel on that stand with a couple of bits of semi-opaque sticky tape. No expense spared!

Of course, left to myself, I would have lingered even though I’m not and have never been a ‘window shopper’. Sally and Suzy both are, and if I had to go anywhere with either of them, I frequently found it irksome. Even at the local big supermarket, I’d go straight for what I wanted, whereas they liked to browse, so it took three times as long!

This situation, though, was considerably different and a first for me. These weren’t tins of beans on a special offer or a bewildering variety of natural yoghurt or non-fat cottage cheese, but an entirely different and far more engaging shopping experience. Indeed, even the term ‘shopping’ seemed far too mundane, given the exotic nature of the displayed goods!

Mandy, however, had pivoted on her heel and promptly marched us straight past the first two podiums and their hapless occupants in what I’d assumed was an effort to distance herself from the pink plastic loud-mouthed Barbie at the tent flap or maybe because she’d espied young Charlie who represented unfinished business.

It was a muttered and contemptuous “Bargain basement department!” comment from young Suzy, plus a sideways glance as I followed my friend that made me realise why Mandy had ignored the first two lots. Neither of them was in the first flush of youth, more the last flush or dregs of middle age, and even that was being generous. If captive human livestock qualified for a pension, then the elderly bald guy on the first podium must have been about ready to apply. Meanwhile, the dumpy woman with long, thinning grey hair on the second must have been well past the appropriate age.

Sad, sorry, and extremely saggy was my initial impression of the pair at first glance, and I didn’t need a second to confirm that, nor the reason for Suzy’s ‘Bargain basement’ comment. Until then, Suzy’s Candyfloss had been the oldest captive livestock I’d seen, and I knew she was in her forties, although she looked older. Even so, she’d not been a bad piece of eye candy, and I’d never once felt the slightest trace of guilt when I’d kissed her rump with crop or cane when grooming her or merely because it amused me to do so.

Whereas Granny and Grandad there on display? Hell, the very thought made me feel a tad uncomfortable. They must have been in their sixties, and I’d never seen such dispirited and lifeless creatures. They stood or rather slouched by the posts they were secured to, although I suspected that was perhaps unnecessary. I couldn’t imagine either of them making a sudden break for freedom or even having the energy or spirit to try. There wasn’t one thing about the pair that stirred anything within me other than a slight sense of pity and perhaps even, deep down, a little guilt!

“Sixty-four and sixty-six, Barnaby and oh! Another Pandora” Suzy was reading through her A4 sheet. We had taken a few paces backwards, leaving Mandy to continue her tête-à-tête with Charlie. I thought it was more of a point of principle with the former for young Charlie, who didn’t seem terribly bothered.

“Both been house and sex slaves for thirty-plus years, numerous owners”, Suzy continued. “No mention of pony usage here. I wonder if they belong to the same owner. Can't imagine having sex with that old biddy, can you? I mean, talk about yuk!”

The woman was the nearest to us and must have been able to hear what Suzy was saying, but she showed no sign of understanding or emotion, merely staring straight ahead with, well, not even a resigned look in her watery eyes. Dead eyes, if anything, I thought with an inward shudder. Her flesh was unhealthy pale white, and her breasts and buttocks hung saggy, wrinkled and limp-looking, and now I could see the myriad scars and marks that covered her entire body. I couldn’t help but compare the wretched woman to my splendid Beauty in all her youth and exquisite pony magnificence. I wondered if this was how she’d look in another forty years!

“No reserve”, Suzy continued “, and doesn’t say here who’s selling them, and I’m not surprised!”

“Why?” I responded automatically.

Suzy switched her attention from the abject pair to me, looking slightly startled. “Like gross! I mean, would you want to be associated with this….this…..this crap!”

This crap?  Crazy! We were talking about two human beings! I glanced at the woman again, still not a flicker of emotion. I turned my attention elsewhere, looking around the marque, wondering which, if any, of the other guests present owned them and for how long. I glanced down at the printed sheets in my hand, twenty-two years with their last owner. That kind of made sense; they’d probably have been reasonably presentable back then, but that’s all it said, and there was nothing about previous owners other than several. How many was several, and who were they, I wondered. Hell, if I were purchasing one of them, I’d like a bit more information.

I’d got more info than that when I got my pup Raven from the dog rescue! Maybe a ‘new owners’ pack went with them or something similar containing essential helpful new owners information. They’d given me a little pack of things like that when I’d picked up Raven. It also included three tins of doggie chunks and a plastic bag of mixed puppy kibble. Would these come with a couple of cans of corned beef or similar? It was a silly thought, but it made me giggle.

Suzy glanced curiously at me for a moment and immediately satisfied some of my curiosity. She held up the printed notes. “I wonder who was responsible for producing this crap? It’s on the back of the second sheet for some reason. NB: lots 1 & 2, until recently the property of Mrs Alice Mortison,” she shook her head. “No idea who she is. Owner recently moved into a retirement nursing home. Property being sold on her behalf by her daughter. No reserve and no restrictions, whatever that means! If I bought something at an auction, there’s no way I’d accept any restrictions on what I could or could not do with my new property!” she sounded indignant.

“HOY!” it was Mandy in my ear and tugging my arm. “Miss Cloth Ears and friend, pay attention; I was talking to you two. Come on. You might find that old dross fascinating, but I certainly don’t. I want to look at this next one, so let's move it, or we’ll miss lunch!”

I allowed myself to be pulled forward past the reserved Dutch pair; Charlie gave me a cheeky goodbye wink as we passed on to the next podium. Lot four was more to my taste, at least in age and appearance, if not sex. By now, I’d come to terms with my latent lesbianism, and although I was happy to have my big Stallion Goldie stabled, Sally and I had decided that any future livestock we acquired should be female.

I grinned to myself at that thought. Yes, we might have agreed on sex, but as for appearance and size, then no. I wanted good-looking and shapely, not necessarily centre-fold looks and that was mostly paint and powder anyway. But an animal with a decent figure that was pleasing to my eye both in and out of harness. Sally, of course, wasn’t at all worried about looks; all she wanted was big, and the bigger, the better. Looking sexy would be a bonus, but It could look like Medusa for all she cared! Mind you, lot 4, Noire might have appealed to her given how cruelly she treated Bob’s big boys!

“Appropriate name if somewhat unimaginative”, Mandy noted as she appraised the fully equine, tacked-up big black stallion, and he was big. The first black stallion I’d seen, and it appeared that old wives tale was true, for ‘Noire’ wasn’t just endowed with height and a splendid physique for his other endowment sported a steel restraining cage that surely must have been a special order. Had that device been a men’s sweater at the local department store, it would have been at least a 5x extra large and maybe even bigger!

Suzy made straight for that caged monster, and against her small hand, it looked even more awesome, as did the handsome oversized, unrestrained plumbs beneath.  Not quite my thing these days, but I’d be just as tempted to play with the monster out of curiosity to see what it was like when free of restraints to achieve a full erection. My Goldie wasn’t disappointing sizewise poor boy, for there was always a finite limit to my teasing and much as he might desire, I never exceeded that limit! My hand was there to control, not provide release! Still, imagine having to accommodate something that size. Noire really was a stallion in that respect!

“Bob, got a birthday coming up anytime soon?” I asked my friend as I eyed the beast up and down. He was indeed a splendid specimen, easily topping six feet and probably nearer seven in his hoof boots. Jet black skin that gleamed in the light with a sheen of oil, broad-shouldered and shaven-headed. Aside from Westerns, one of my dad's favourite films was Zulu, the historic battle in South Africa where a hundred or so British soldiers held four thousand Zulu warriors at bay for a day and a half. I could imagine this impressive African Prince charging the redcoats, spear and shield in hand.

Undoubtedly, that would have been a terrifying sight for those poor men. Still, running a no longer inexperienced eye over him and that harness tack, the chances of him cutting loose and running amok among us were zero or, more likely, zero minus with quite a lot of minuses! I’d taken all the warnings I’d been given about handling such animals very much to heart and become a ‘belt and braces’ person. Given a choice between two harness straps, I invariably preferred the thicker, heavier-duty one and any thoughts about the wearer's comfort were irrelevant!  

Mandy shook her head, still thinking about her husband. “No, he hasn’t a birthday due, and I’ve no intention of indulging him. The doctors have been warning him about his blood pressure, and I’m trying to limit him a bit, so the last thing I need is for him to get another big boy. Besides, impressive as it is in the wedding tackle department, it’s not quite up to Samson and Hercules build-wise. They, plus all his pretty colts, are more than enough. This creature doesn’t fit into either category, big though he is!” she finished thoughtfully and then laughed, prompting me to throw her a questioning look.

She grinned at me and shook her head again. “No, I can’t say I’m not tempted; what a splendid stud this brute would make for some of my animals, but…well, do me a favour later.”

“Such as?”

“If you see my arm twitching later, please grab it before I raise it on high and commit myself”, she chuckled. “I’m a sucker for buying those chocolates and other goodies the supermarkets tempt you with at the checkouts. They get me every time. Impulse buying, is it not? Now leave his bloody prick alone, young lady. If the brute pisses on you, you‘ll be spending the next few hours waiting by my car on your own!”

Suzy giggled and bent forward, and I saw a flash of pink as her tongue flicked in and out to briefly taste the captive tip of black monster cock; then she straightened and giggled again, squeezing a sizeable firm black buttock cheek as she did so.

“And here's me talking about acting on impulse!” Mandy grunted derisively. “I think you're wasting your time anyway, girl, with this one!”

A comment I could agree with. The impressively built black stallion was also impressively passive.  He stood hoofs slightly apart, proudly erect, almost as though he was gratified to stand there for the world to see and admire. A glistening living ebony statue, his magnificent glossy hide contrasting with the somewhat worn but serviceable dull black leather harness he wore. Not once had he looked at us, nor under his bridle had his face moved in the slightest sign of emotion. He might as well have been a statue for all the life he showed, and even Suzy’s attention produced not a single twitch of those magnificent muscles.

He silently radiated power, though, and I realised I’d unthinkingly taken a half step backwards, thinking if he got loose. Like the others, he was secured to a stout, upright metal post behind him. However, his size,  pose, and especially that motionless attitude gave the impression that if he chose to, he’d snap those bonds instantly and commit mayhem upon us.

“Up to your usual tricks, I see” The contemptuous remark was directed at Suzy as Sarah joined us. “Can’t keep her sticky little mitts off cock can she?”

“Only the ones worthy of my little mitt's attention”, the girl countered and then said “Hello” to someone behind Sarah as a figure wearing a double-breasted suit in that same horrible purple material the other staff were wearing joined us.

“And hello and welcome indeed”, Sir Jeffery beamed at her as he joined our group. “What do you think of Noire, then? I must say I was very tempted when they unloaded the beast, but I’d already taken a fancy to Daddy and his colt over there. Not an easy choice by any means, but I think they’ll provide more fun and amusement, not to mention personal satisfaction in the end, eh?” He chuckled and winked.

“Why not buy both lots?” I asked without thinking and then promptly blushed at my temerity.

Sir Jeffery roared with laughter. “Goodness, young lady, don’t allow yourself to be deceived. I may have a few pennies invested in all this and beyond,” he waved airily. “Plus, a few more are piled in my bank accounts and investment, but one has to draw the line somewhere; otherwise, it would soon be the poor house for yours truly! One hates to be coarse and mention money, but this one alone is, well, look in your catalogue….”

“Catalogue”, Mandy laughed, waving the two A4 sheets at him. “It's not even printed in colour!”

“Catalogue”, he repeated, “and have you bought a printer cartridge recently? Talk about a rip-off industry! Now, as I was saying to this charming young woman…..and that’s just the reserve for this fine specimen”, he finished as Mandy looked at the notes in her hand.

I felt Sarah’s nose briefly nudge against my ear as she leaned close to whisper. “Skinflint!”

Mandy held the paper in front of me and tapped with one finger. I looked, blinked and looked again and then at her and from her back to our host for the day, who was chuckling quietly. “Yes, a little above the norm for the modest sales I organise from time to time”, he conceded.

Mandy was still thoughtfully looking at the notes. “I know them quite well, the Fitzroys; they have a big place in Scotland, an entire Island, would you believe off the West Coast up in the Hebrides. Fiona is also into dressage, and I’ve competed against her several times. She’s excellent, and unlike me, she trains both male and female animals.”

“Somewhat on the bleak and inhospitable side, so people have told me. All rocks, heather, gorse and few trees plus invariably wet and windy. ” Sir Jeffery said. “Charming couple I’ve always found, but they don’t encourage visitors, nor I imagine is the damn place that easy to get to anyway”.

“Boat or helicopter”, Suzy suggested.

“Well, they can keep both so far as I’m concerned” He shuddered. “Never been a fan of either he said, stamping on the ground with one foot. “My travelling days are over, and I want good old terra firma beneath my feet at all times these days. Boats and planes, no; trains and autos, yes!”

“That’s a long way to send him back if he doesn’t sell, and I doubt he will. I know most people here, and none of them are exactly high rollers or not to that extent,” Sarah said dubiously. “or will you hold him here?”

“Alas, not my dear Sarah. Should he not sell this afternoon, which I agree is highly unlikely, the big brute will be heading for Paris on the morrow”.

Mandy nodded. “Marcel’s establishment?”

“Naturellement!” he smiled. “Where else?”

“Europe’s premier two-legged livestock showroom”. Sarah whispered. “Only animals of the highest quality and, of course, the highest price. Your Beauty would do quite well there, I expect, if you were to sell her in the next year or so”.

“Highly unlikely “, I responded, a trifle annoyed at the idea. Hell, after all the trouble I’d had finding and then capturing the gorgeous animal, all those long walks down damp country lanes and….well, in retrospect, there hadn’t been that many, and I’d homed in on my target area pretty quickly. Those caravan-watching jaunts seemed like a lifetime ago, likewise that crazy phone call I’d made to the farmer in that silly accent to panic him. Crazy days, but my, ultimately, so satisfying. The saying ‘Who dares wins’ came into my mind. Well, I’d undoubtedly been daring that evening, hadn’t I and emerged a winner!

“Stop grinning like a Chesire cat! What’s tickled your sense of humour?” Mandy was looking at me, as were the others.

I blushed and shook my head. “Nothing important”, I replied, thinking that there was no way I was ever going to sell Beauty, and it wasn’t just because she was such a beautiful pony but also because of what she represented. Beauty was my ticket, passport, and doorway into this new and exciting world. Thinking about it at that moment, I think she was a kind of talisman. I don’t suppose Mandy and company would immediately vanish in a puff of smoke if I did sell her, but…well!” I glanced at the notes in my hand and asked the question that had bothered me.

“It says here, only six months in captivity, less than six months in fact. I mean, why are they selling him when he’s so impressive and” I glanced at the reserve price again. “So expensive?” I thought of Beauty again and wondered what her valuation would be, and then a second thought struck me: a silly one. Could you insure such valuable animals?” I grinned at that ridiculous idea and promptly changed my expression. I saw Mandy looking curiously at me again.

“Good question,” Sir Jeffery conceded, looking at the Stallion. “Cutting their losses from what I can gather. Fiona wasn’t that forthcoming when we talked over the phone or in her emails, but I’m an old hand and, more importantly, an ex-diplomat, don’t forget. I can read between the lines and fill in blanks better than most since I used to have to do that to earn my daily crust when dealing with Johnny Foreigner.”

He reached out a hand and mimicked what Suzy had done minutes earlier to that massive confined cock and sighed deeply. “I don’t have the key. Fiona said she’d send them directly to his new owner. Pity, just to tease that thing to its full natural state would be so delightful and probably set a record in the process” he sighed again as he withdrew his hand. “Cest la vie! Such is life!”

“The big brute didn’t even blink so much as an eyelid”, Sarah noted, sounding impressed as she walked around the podium. ”Doesn’t look like he’s received many whippings either, hardly a mark on him and those he has got look pretty fresh to me”.

“Captured straight out of the dark continent, I believe, and to a very specific order so he’d have cost them a small fortune in the first place. From what I gathered, he is a well-educated specimen and speaks perfect English, although he has not said a single word to my knowledge since he arrived. Not so much as a growl out of him, just that blank, hostile stare and no cooperation whatsoever. My guys almost had to carry him in here; he was so stubborn about moving, and no, that was off limits, I’m afraid”. He shook his head. Suzy had made a whip-cracking movement with her right arm.

“Those whip marks you can see on the contrary brute were a parting present from Fiona; according to her, all she was doing was tiering her arm out. Yes, she had him jumping about and screaming and by no means for the first time either, but so far as any attitude adjustment went, it was a total waste of time. He can go into a sort of….well, she described it as a kind of trance. He reacts physically and vocally to such pain but somehow manages to keep his mind separate. Look at him now. He’s here in the flesh, is he not? He's probably listening to every word, and his body reacts if you touch him, but as to where his mind is, who knows!”

“Interesting”, Mandy mused. “I’ve never heard of anything like that before!”.

Sir Jeffery chuckled. “No, me neither and nor had Fiona. You know Zeus, her big dressage stallion, of course?”

Mandy nodded, as did Sarah, who said, “Who doesn’t? He’s pretty damn impressive. Not the sort of creature you can ignore. Didn’t Bob once try and buy him?”

Mandy nodded. “Um, yes, I’d forgotten about that. He only had Samson back then, but Fiona wouldn’t even entertain the idea, much to his chagrin. He sulked for weeks, as I recall!”

I looked questioningly towards Sarah as she re-joined us after contemplating Noire’s fresh or relatively freshly whipped rump. She smiled and obliged my curiosity.

“Zeus is her number one dressage pony. Her champion stallion, she’s exhibited him worldwide, and the beasts won, God knows how many winners rosettes for her. She’s only a wee Scottish lass, as they would say, up in that part of the country, and Zeus is, well, you’ve seen Samson and Hercules, so that should give you an idea. Fiona’s not another Sally by any means but about the same size as Suzy here”.

“Beauty and the Beast syndrome”, Mandy muttered, looking somewhat sour. “Some of her routines are borderline acceptable at best, but that massive variation in size between him and her seems to count with certain judges who like the visual contrast!”

Sarah winked at me. I’d noted that tone in my friend's voice that matched her look. I knew Mandy took her dressage very seriously and suspected that this Fiona might be a long-term rival if she exhibited both male and female ponies in the dressage ring.

“Oh, come now, good lady”, Sir Jeffrey intervened. “Credit where credit is due and all that. You must admit she did a first-rate job of training the brute, and that can’t have been easy given you don’t like marking them, I know…. oh but that just applies to female ponies in the show ring, does it not?”

“As a general rule, yes”, Mandy acknowledged. “Judges knock marks off for unsightly presented fillies and mares, but that rule never applies to colts and stallions where the opposite seems to apply. That puts those of us who prefer to exhibit only females at a considerable training disadvantage but….” She paused and smiled. “The end result, I feel, is well worth the effort and far nicer to look at than lacerated pony hide!”

“Hmmm, depends on one's point of view and natural inclinations, dear lady”, Sir Jeffery gently disagreed. “Now give me a choice, and I’ll always opt for a pair of firm, well-whipped rump cheeks every time. Male ones, that is,” he conceded, “and her Zeus certainly had those”, he turned to me. “The handsome beast was originally one of those muscle guys, Mister Universe type, a one-time Olympic weight lifter who represented Greece, hence his name. He competed in a few of those ‘strongest man’ type competitions until his career choice was abruptly changed, and I expect that cost Fiona and hubby a pretty penny as well”.

“It took her three years to train him, though, didn’t it?” Mandy muttered. “And it showed! Not that she didn’t do a bad job with him,” she generously conceded. “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?”

“A couple of times” Sarah nodded. “Impressive, very graceful for such a huge beast and when you look at Fiona’s size against his, yes, I can see why the judges are always impressed with her routines and by the look of his hide, that must have been three hellish years for him!”

“Size isn’t everything” Suzy laughed and repeated that whip-cracking motion. “It’s not how big you are but how good you are and how patient and the quality of the tools you use is irrelevant. I’ve never found a need to blame them! So what went wrong this time?” she nodded towards Noire and looked enquiringly towards Sir Jeffery.

“Zeus was the wrong side of thirty when Fiona first acquired him and past his prime for the sort of muscle events he’d previously competed in. He did look good, though, once she’d broken and trained him, Well, performance-wise anyway. Fiona is one of those people who define the word perfectionist, and nothing less than a straight ten from a judge is acceptable to her.” He looked towards Mandy and smiled. “I agree, my dear, that major difference is somewhat unfair. Looking at poor Zeus’s hide, I doubt she’d have even managed a few eights no matter how impressive the routine under the rules you compete under!”.

Mandy made a sound that was part grunt and part growl, but whether she was agreeing, I didn’t know. I looked Noire up and down and down again. Spoke good English, did he, but still not a sign or the slightest movement from the big beast. He stood there like a polished black statue in a museum, so immobile I couldn’t even discern if his chest was moving as he breathed. Wouldn’t he look good if a little oversized standing in the corner of my kitchen? We could even use him as a clothes horse if he stretched his arms out! I resisted the urge to giggle at that thought as Sir Jeffery pointed at the object of my attention. Way too big anyway, even for my large farmhouse kitchen; talk about an elephant in the room!

“This one was intended to replace Zeus, something a little different, and  I gather Fiona wanted to keep this one in pristine condition rather than flog the hell out of him, cutting him to ribbons. His glossy black hide is certainly something to admire, is it not? I expect you could peel that off him, oil it up, polish and you’d have one hell of an impressive shiny wall hanging. A jet-black mirror almost!” he paused and looked at my face. “Only joking” he grinned and winked at me, leaving me to wonder if that was true or not.

“I gather Little Miss Perfectionist failed then!” Mandy said with a note of satisfaction, which was evident in her voice. “If he’s standing on an auction block!”

“Alas for her, yes” Our host continued. “Six months of rubber slapper, paddle and broad tawse wasted. You can see what the creatures like, can’t you? I gather he wasn’t much different in her stable and training area. It took her two days before she even got a yelp out of him, and having seen her in action, one can only admire this brute's stoicism! Lord knows what she put him through for all those months; no doubt she was getting angrier by the day. Knowing what she did to Zeus, she must have displayed admirable self-control”.

“Fiona can be stubborn too,” Mandy noted. “Still, credit where credit is due for perseverance” She smiled at Suzy’s look of surprise. “We’re competitors, Sweetie, not enemies. Outside of the dressage arena, we get on quite well. I’d have torn into the fucker I expect after the first week if he was going to be that fucking uncooperative. He will certainly make an interesting challenge for someone, though”.

Sir Jeffry chuckled. “That’s his other main selling point. She paid a lot for the animal when it was running wild, but you and I know they rarely sell for the same price afterwards. Noire, here may be the exception to that rule given his pristine condition and that goodbye whipping she gave him will soon fade, she restrained herself. He might have spent half a year in a stall but not showing any sign of it, and then this amazing statue-like ability coupled with his stubbonesss will push his price back up. Plenty of owners love a challenge and are prepared to pay top dollar for the privilege. I’ll lay odds Fiona will get her money back plus possibly even a nice little bonus on top, and she’s had six months of….well, I suppose you could call it fun out of him”.

“You can keep your odds,” Mandy said. “I’m not betting with you, not on that one, yes?” the latter to Sarah.

“Time’s getting on, Boss, and I’m beginning to feel peckish, and the lunch hour doth fast approach methinks! Plus, there are still the last two lots, the female ones you discussed during dinner.”

“Indeed, time does” Sir Jeffery looked at his watch. “If you charming ladies will excuse me, I must check on the catering arrangements and something else. I expect everything will be tip-top, as usual. Still, it’s my responsibility to ensure it is and….oh, talking of something else, jolly good, that was exceedingly smooth!” he said to the guy who’d met us at the tent entrance who’d just walked up and given him a thumbs up along with a big beaming smile.  Simon, I believe Mandy had called him. “Never heard a thing and no awkward disturbance whatsoever.”

Simon gave him a thin smile and a kind of mini bow or bob as he acknowledged the compliment from his employer. “I was merely the on-site director of operations, Sir. The three professional persons you and your associates wisely employed did the donkey work such as it was and deserve your praise. They handled the task extremely smoothly even though there was nothing likely to interrupt operations. I gather it was the easiest, er, snatch, as they put it, that they’ve ever done. I believe that another few minutes should be sufficient, sir. You did say you wanted to make the announcement prior to luncheon”.

“Correct, I did indeed. Sir Jeffery replied and then chuckled. “Donkey! I like that, very apt, very apt indeed. Now, please excuse me again, ladies. I need to make a little announcement, and you might want to make that three female lots to look at, not two. Sarah, darling!”.

He winked at us and strode briskly up to the podium, mounted it to stand near Noire and clapped his hands several times to get everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, dear friends, colleagues, associates and guests, please lend me your ears” then he laughed. “My apologies, naughty of me, but I couldn’t resist that one. Now, just a couple of housekeeping announcements, I believe that is the appropriate term. Luncheon will be ready in a few minutes, but unless you are on the verge of starvation, which I’m sure you are not, I’d ask you to indulge me for a few minutes” He paused dramatically and smiled at his now curious audience; who were moving up to join us.  I’m pleased to announce that there will be one additional surprise lot for this afternoon's sale. A very surprised lot, I might add, and one that I’m sure will be an equal surprise to you. A late but fascinating entry, and” he paused again and held up a finger “, there will be no, repeat, no reserve on this highly desirable lot. Plus, I am delighted to announce that every single penny from the sale will be donated to a well-known national children’s cancer hospital. However, I would add a note of caution in that the winning bidder will need to assure both myself and other, shall we call them interested parties,  that they have the appropriate secure facilities. I know most of you have, but….well, you can form your own judgment. Ah, almost ready, I believe”. He gestured with his right hand, and we all turned to look.

It was the third podium where the reserved father and son had been displayed. I’d have sworn they were both still there a moment ago, but now the platform was vacant, and that sign had said reserved or withdraw, whatever had also disappeared. Likewise, young Charlie.

We all stood there expectantly for a moment, and then, a bit longer, nothing was happening. A subdued buzz of conversation broke out around us, and I looked at Mandy, who shook her head and shrugged. Her expression made me think this wasn’t the norm at these events. Then Simon appeared from what looked like a gap where two of the big marque’s side tent panels hadn’t wholly joined together and hopped onto the podium. At least, that was how it appeared to me as he gave another rather elaborate thumbs-up to his employer before turning and waving to someone unseen behind him.

Two purple-clad young men appeared and held back that white tent canvas or whatever it was, creating a portal allowing entry for the surprise lot we were waiting on. A beefy-looking woman in a smart two-piece outfit in the same beige shade as mine and brown knee boots entered, holding a leash. She was about Sarah’s build but was nowhere as attractive, and she had very short blonde cropped hair. The leash, I think, was more for show than functionality, for immediately behind her, two big guys in sober black business suits entered and between them was a struggling female figure or rather a wriggling figure because she was naked and restrained. Those two ‘heavies’ were obviously cutting her no slack, and she was going nowhere except onto that podium!

The audience, myself included, all stared for a moment, and then again, including your truly, collectively released an astonished gasp of recognition. The price of fame, I suppose and of being a greedy, wannabe, talentless celeb and influencer with surgically enhanced plastic tits. Big artificially firm tits that were prominently on display now that the leather catsuit, thigh boots and the rest had been removed and replaced by harness tack. I noted a bright pink leather tack, thinking someone had a sense of the appropriate, didn’t they?

“I wondered why it had gone quiet outside so quickly”, Mandy muttered half to herself as the reluctant new lot was quickly secured to a metal post, then added, “You know, ladies, I think this little auction might just have become a lot more interesting! Did I, by chance, mention something a little earlier about restraining my arm during the afternoon's bidding?”

I grinned. “I believe you might have”.

“Ah, well, circumstances tend to change, don’t they? She smiled towards the podium and then gestured for us to follow her. “Come now, it’s rude to stare, not to mention having suddenly become a trifle crowded here. Let’s quickly peek at the last two lots and then lunch. Oh, and regarding my earlier request, let's leave it a hands-free afternoon, eh?”