“What’s a pantomime horse and why do you want me to play the part?” asked Gordon Lister thoroughly puzzled as to why Mrs Sawyer was asking.
“A pantomime horse is a theatrical thing where two people sort of pretend to be a horse by wearing a single costume and then synchronizing their movements to comic effect. One person is at the front, bent slightly forward, but stood more or less upright inside the horse’s head using their hands to operate the ears, eyes and mouth, and the other one is the rear end. That person needs to bend ninety degrees at the waist, put their arms around the person in front and hold on tight. They won’t be able to see anything of course, and after the stage helpers have fastened the hidden buckles and zips on the outside of the costume, they won’t be able to stand up, let go, or get out until the performance has finished. So that’s why we’d like you to do it. Or at the very least audition for it.” Natalie Sawyer smiled as she finished her explanation and gestured towards the four women sat behind her who nodded in agreement.
“I’m sorry,” replied Gordon, still puzzled, “Why me?”
“Well, none of us five feel particularly comfortable about bending over for that long. Each show is going to last an hour and each rehearsal will last two. We’ve not yet decided who’s going to play the front end, or any of the play’s other parts just yet, but we’re quite sure that you’re fit enough to do something none of us are.” She smiled again as three oldest women sat behind her all nodded and muttered to one another as they whispered sniggered phrases about “backs” and “age”.
“So how are you going to decide who’s at the front?” he asked, hoping that it would be Mrs Sawyer’s twenty one year old daughter Emily who was sat silently smiling at him.
“Well, we thought that if you were willing to play the back end, we’d see who was the best front end, or who formed the best partnership, by you having a go with different people until we found one that worked. Would that be ok?”
Gordon Lister didn’t smile, but inside he’d not felt so self-satisfied for a very long time. He’d only come along to the women’s amateur dramatics society auditions because Emily Sawyer had asked him to, and he’d spent two years sat in the same class fantasizing about her. She was half the age of the other four women, and even if she was the last one he got fastened into some ridiculous horse costume with, at least he was going to get to spend some time with his arms around her waist and his head pressed against her body.
“Ok,” he said,” trying not to sound too eager, “suit me up.”
The woman next to Emily stood up, lifted the lid of the large basket she was sat on, and pulled out a two-piece light brown horse costume with a comic face. “Put the back legs on,” said Emily grinning as she handed over one half of the costume.
He did as asked, and then sat on a chair at the side of the stage as all five women started laughing.”What’s so funny?” said Gordon not understanding why seeing a grown man put on half a horse costume could be so amusing.
“Sorry,” said one of the women, “It’s because we know what happens next.” Gordon Lister frowned. “Will it be that funny?” “From here it will be,” replied the woman, “We’ve been planning it for weeks. We just needed a suitable young man, and a few alterations to the costume so that we could all get involved. Anyway, Kirsten’s going to go first as it was her idea.”
Gordon didn’t understand what was meant by ‘involved’, but sat quietly as the tallest woman stood up, picked up the rest of the costume and walked towards the dressing rooms.
“You don’t mind wearing a blindfold do you?” said Emily, “You won’t be able to see inside the costume anyway, and it’s just that whoever’s in the front end can’t wear too much clothing as it gets very hot, and as you can appreciate, there might be some modesty to preserve.”
Gordon smiled and wondered how things could get better: not only was he eventually going to be fastened inside some sweaty costume with the incredibly attractive Emily Sawyer, she’d just told him that she was going to be less than fully clothed.
He closed his eyes and started to imagine what thin flimsy material she might be going to get changed into, and how her underwear might feel against his skin, as two laughing forty year old women fastened a blindfold around his head.
“Stand up and bend over” said Emily as he heard the clip-clop of two feet approach from the side of the stage. He did as he’s been instructed and reached out with his arms until he could feel the warm skin of a woman in front of him. “No shirt on” he thought to himself as she moved slowly backwards and several unseen arms threw the rest of the costume over him and started to fasten buckles and zips so tightly that he was pulled him right up against the woman in front.
Gordon Lister was pulled so tightly that his cheeks were pressed between what he instantly realized were naked buttocks, and his nose was pressed so deeply into her that he couldn’t lift his head. He instinctively tried to move his hands, but succeed only in cupping the woman’s exposed and dangling breasts as she sighed contentedly.
He tried to move, but couldn’t. He was securely fastened inside a comic horse costume with a naked woman, able only to rub parts of himself against her, and listen to the sound of four women laughing hysterically as they held him stationary by the fake saddle hanging over his shoulders.
“If you’re too tightly up against Kirsten or it’s too hot we can undo some zips and things?” said an amused voice from outside. “Yes please!”, he exclaimed, “Anything! Do whatever you can!”
“Any preferences about which zips and stuff we undo?” said a voice he recognised as Natalie Sawyer’s. “Or what we then?” “No, no!” replied Gordon beginning to feel the discomfort of the erection rapidly growing from being pressed against a naked woman, “I don’t know if you’ve got the fastenings a bit wrong or if it was a joke, but undo whatever you want!”
Gordon Lister felt two hands fumble around near his crotch, heard a couple of zips unfasten, then felt the zip of his trousers get pulled down, followed by the sensation his now-fully erect penis getting pulled out of his boxers and into the relatively cold air outside the costume. “He must like sticking his face up Kirsten and feeling her tits!” shrieked one of the women, “Look how hard he is!”
He felt several hands start to play with him as a voice at the side of his head very calmly said, “You look so much more like a real horse now,” which was followed by even more frenetic laughter as the naked woman he was pressed up against started to writhe around and murmur like a stroked kitten.
“Rehearsals last two hours Gordon, or less if whoever’s in the front of the horse can’t stand up any longer,” said a voice he thought was Emily’s, “So if you want us to let you out earlier I suggest that you start licking.”
He did as Emily suggested, and licked every part of Kirsten that his tongue would reach as she writhed and moaned, wriggled and groaned, sweated and dripped until she finally shuddered like a real horse coming to halt in front of a very large fence.
“Good boy!” said a voice from outside, “Shall one of us do something about this now?” He felt someone kneel down beside him as a hand grabbed hold of his penis while the front end of the horse rocked up and down as if nodding and the women’s laughter again became hysterical.
The unseen hand tugged slowly, rapidly and finally frenetically until he exploded to yet more laughter before he felt buckles and zips get unfastened around him. Gordon Lister collapsed backwards into the chair behind him as the front part of the horse clip-clopped back to the dressing room, and Emily Sawyer untied the blindfold.
“You did wonderfully Gordon,” she whispered in his ear, “You’ve definitely got the part. I can’t wait for my audition.”
Gordon Lister didn’t look up. He slowly peeled the bottom half of the horse costume from his legs, and tenderly pushed his throbbing penis back inside his trousers and zipped them up. He stood exhaustedly upright, turned to look at the four women smiling at him, and said, “How many rehearsals are there?”
All four women started laughing. “As many as you want!” shouted Natalie Sawyer, “But until we’ve decided on who’s at the front…” She left her sentence unfinished as she looked round at her daughter who nodded in reply and smiled at Gordon.
He stepped down off the empty stage, walked across the empty hall, opened the main door and turned back towards what were now five giggling women. “Same time tomorrow?”