Consequences

by Mark Andrews

  I said I’d be going out immediately to look her over, which was very true but her words when she had called me had had me wondering ... “You said something on the phone about a remarkable community ...?”

  She smiled again. “Yes. I’ve actually sold quite a few of my girls to them. It’s actually an island in the Pacific. A very remote island which a dozen or so of them purchased and set up as a rather bizarre village. A village set up as a Middle East community in the Seventeenth or Eighteenth centuries might have been ...”

  “You’re talking about slaves, aren’t you?” I breathed, my eyes very bright now (I just knew they were bright so don’t ask).

  “Yes. But more than just slaves. The girls (and some males too) are permanently naked, as they are here and some are actually ponies. Their owners ride them using special saddles that go around their necks and upper bodies and even have stirrups, or they are harnessed to light gigs which they have to trot and gallop around the little town and the rest of the island.”

  “Oh wonderful,” I said. I couldn’t think of a better occupation for the hated Amelia. “Is Farouk here?” I asked then.

  “No. He’s arriving tomorrow but I told him all about her actions and your part in it and he was immediately sympathetic. I think you will find the island quite intriguing.”

  “You’ve been there, haven’t you?” I said accusingly.

  She grinned. “I sure have. And I still go there as often as I can get away from here and my duties in New York ... I suspect you may, too.”

  We went out then to look up Amelia. She had been exercising in the gym when I arrived but she was on the rowing machine now and Kim was overseeing her and her companions as they toiled at full labour on that diabolical machine.

  I stared at her in astonishment - and some amusement. Mary had been right - and then some. When I had left, a couple of months earlier, she had already been a muscle freak. Now, though, she was huge - muscle-huge, I mean. The muscles really bulged and rippled and corded as she pulled back on the oar handle, standing out in great cords and strands all over her body.

  Of her breasts, formerly a pair of quite beautiful female organs, there was no sign at all. They were now gone entirely and her chest was that of a dedicated male bodybuilder, broad and deep but all muscle. I suspect there were no mammary cells left at all. Her shoulders were even broader and now boasted real boulders of muscle. Her arms were also heavily muscled and as she pulled back on the oar, the biceps muscles stood out in long cords that slowly shortened and then formed into tight balls of hard muscle while her belly muscles stood up in massive lumps from her stomach.

  Her thighs were huge, bulging out as they worked to counter her upper body weight now leaning back towards the end of the stroke. Later, when she moved to the capstan to show me how she looked standing up, I noted the gluteal muscles of her buttocks were just as well developed. I turned to Mary. “How ...?” I asked, astonished at her phenomenal muscularity.

  She shrugged. We don’t know. Probably just something in her genes. When the hormones turned her into a half male, something there just took all the healthy food and ultra hard work and turned her into this. Magnificent, is she not?”

  “Magnificent isn’t the word,” I said dryly, “but she is certainly remarkable.” I paused a moment then asked about the sale. “Is Farouk definite in his offer, or is it conditional upon him seeing her?” “He’s pretty definite. Actually I don’t permit sight unseen purchases, though. He has her pictures and even a short movie clip I sent him over the Internet and he’s ecstatic about buying her. I’m sure he will and then the pair of you, with a guard I shall assign to

  look after her on her last journey, will fly to the island ...”

  I looked at her, aware she was laughing at me in her aristocratic way. “It’s Kim, isn’t it? You’ve assigned him ...?”

  “Of course. Who else?”

  That night Kim and I made the most wonderful - soft and gentle love together. And now it wasn’t just physical, good and all as that side of it was. In our absence from each other, a mutual love had developed and now we were both giving full rein to that love. We clung together and whispered little endearment into the other’s ear and then we made love again. Eventually though, the forthcoming trip came up.

  Kim was excited. “I have never been out of Korea before, Judy. It will be exciting.”

  “It’ll be more than exciting, Kim,” I said, “This village has been set up around human slavery as it was practised two hundred and more years ago. These slaves are bought and sold like cattle and they are used as labourers, domestics and even as human ponies ...”

  “Just like we use them here - on the capstan and rowing machine and the treadmill?”

  “Yes, but now for a definite purpose. I understand they are all used as domestic slaves and as labourers as well as ponies. Each was a criminal before their conversion to slavery, many of them murderers or rapists, and one of the females actually killed her own children.”

  “Horrible!” he said screwing up his handsome nose but then kissing me again. That led to another round of loving of the physical kind and now I knew I wanted this man more than anything else in the world. More than I had ever wanted Toby. More even than my thus far insatiable urge for revenge on Amelia.

  I liked Farouk immediately. He was a tall lean man and was very distinguished looking. Handsome in a most aristocratic way, you might say. He took my hand and pressed it, saying how much he sympathised with me for what Amelia (he too didn’t like the name Mary had given her) had done to me and then we went together to look her over.

  She was at that moment, attacking the capstan and more magnificent a sight would be hard to imagine. Mary had contrived his first view of the girl so as to present her in the very best light of course and so she was alone on the huge implement, its brake set to give her a decent load but one she was able to cope with.

  Nevertheless, every step required a nightmare of effort and the sweat fairly flew off her so muscular body in great drops. She was nicely tanned all over by now of course and her nut-brown flesh showed off her great muscles to a tee. As she leaned hard against the pole, they rippled and corded and stood out all over her legs, thighs, buttocks and back in great lumps of ever-changing shape. As she brought each thigh forward, it relaxed momentarily - but then, as her buttocks moved over it, the muscle tensioned, forming the strand- like cords that now strained to push the heavy pole further around.

  Her buttocks were now very, very muscular. Not huge - really, none of her was huge. Her muscles were big and definitely masculine but she wasn’t gigantic in a titanic sense. Anyway, her buttocks were narrow and sharply indented with clean-cut hollows on the outsides and they reached high up into the small of her back while at the bottom, they curved around sharply to form the ‘bubble-butt’ that is so much desired on a male athlete. As she struggled and strained to keep the pole turning, they too relaxed and then corded into an even more sharply defined outline.

  She really was a sight - if you are into muscle freaks. I wasn’t, except in so far as it had enabled me to get my revenge on this slut.

  Farouk stood watching her critically for a few minutes then took to walking along beside her as she leaned into the pole, even reaching out to feel her muscles as they alternately strained and then relaxed. She didn’t flinch at his lean brown hands fingering her flesh. She was well used to all and sundry doing this to her naked body nowadays but she did look at him, speculating no doubt if he was going to be her owner.

  She knew she was going to be sold to someone eventually. Mary had told her that at the beginning but others had come and gone, looked her over with others of the girls, and then left and she was still here, so she really had no idea if he was just a casual visitor or a real buyer and if that was the case, her buyer.

  He left her after a few revolutions of the capstan pole and returned t
o us. “She looks perfect, Dr Partridge. If I may examine her now ...?”

  “Of course, Excellency.” She nodded to the guard who ordered her to cease her labour and he then unlocked her from the pole and took her to be cleaned in preparation for Farouk’s inspection of her flesh.

  He was most thorough, going over her whole body in minute detail and examining her sexless groin very carefully to see how well Barbara had performed her operation. He smiled up at her. “Congratulations, Dr Trudeau,” he said in his cultured English. “Another perfect result, if I may say so ...”

  Barbara beamed. “Thank you, Excellency. But yes, I think her belly has turned out pretty well.”

  “Pretty well does not begin to describe it. Admittedly, the furrows of her extraordinarily well developed abdominal muscles would hide any marks from a casual inspection but I have looked very hard and can only just see the faintest scar where you opened her up - and this delightful little bud for her to pass her water is so delicate ...

  “Now if I may see her strength and endurance tested, we can then conclude the deal ...”

  We moved to the gymnasium and there Amelia performed her gymnastics routines and then went over to the weights where she demonstrated before his eyes, how prodigiously strong she really was.

  After that, Mary had her put on the rowing machine - by herself. The brake was released entirely but it was still an enormous load for her to strain against its inertia to get the huge flywheel turning at all, but then to keep it spinning for hour after hour while he sat there, tea in hand, watching as her body moved back and forward, one minute lying right forward with her head down between her legs and then pulling back hard until the oar handle was right up over her face - and then the awful strain of pushing it back down over her body once more until she was again bent double and ready for the next power stroke.

  Farouk leaned over to Mary, who sat beside him in similar director’s chairs, watching her slave critically. She stood to make a lot of money from this sale and she wouldn’t leave Farouk’s side until the deal was consummated.

  “I know I’ve mentioned it before, Dr Partridge, but I am really serious now. Do you think it would be possible for me to have a copy of the plans for this machine? I can see it is possibly the most effective exercise machine you have here - and certainly the most pleasing to watch as the slaves are worked on it.”

  Mary smiled. “Of course, Excellency. I have them on a computer file actually. I will send them to you this afternoon and they will be waiting for you upon your return. Perhaps you may wish to telephone your agent and have him direct the carpenters and engineers on the island to begin work on the machine ...?”

  “An excellent idea. It is not all that complicated and perhaps it might even be ready for us ...”

  They rose together, she to transmit the files through to his agent on the island for while it was set up as an Eighteenth Century village, it also had modern conveniences apparently. At the same time he put through a call to the agent indicating his wishes to have the rowing machine duplicated in the village square, right next to the pillory and whipping frame.

  I stayed and watched Amelia continue to toil on the machine. This was perhaps her hardest trial so far. By herself on the machine, pulling back hard on the oar and then pushing it forward again while Kim (who was by now permanently attached to her) tickled her up with his whip when she appeared to flag.

  Farouk strolled back, accompanied by Mary and they resumed their seats, he staring singularly at my enemy as she continued to toil at the oar handle. After another hour though he professed himself happy with her stamina and they rose once more so he could effect the electronic transfer of funds to Mary’s credit in her Swiss bank account.

  Amelia was now the property of the fabulously wealthy Farouk, who apparently owned a number of other slaves on the island, as did his partners in the venture. There were others there. Men who worked for him and them, as well as some others who delighted in the slavery theme and who ran their own small businesses there. It seemed it really functioned as a Middle Ages community with a weekly market where small-time farmers sold their produce, the tinker his tin ware - and the single slave dealer paraded his wares. I couldn’t wait to see it all and Kim was just as eager.

  By now I had become quite enamoured of the slave thing and with my new love for Kim damping somewhat the virulent hatred I had held for Amelia, had become more interested in the other ex-girls who were being converted and trained as muscle freaks for sale to Farouk and his ilk.

  They were all spectacularly muscular, of course. Each had been neutered and was as bare down between her legs as Amelia now was. And they were all tanned nicely to show off their spectacular muscles to all and sundry who came to the camp, including the local military governor who delighted in the privilege Mary accorded him (and other senior officers) of private ‘examinations’ of their flesh in a special room that boasted a large bed, whips and canes - and not much else. No doubt you can imagine the use to which the girls selected by the governor were put.

  The girls came and went. Mary kept her ear to the ground and carefully selected ‘clients’ such as me to help with her bizarre treatment of their mental problems and then the girls arrived and went through the same routine Amelia had, being treated with the daily hormone suppository, operated on, and then put through the rigorous physical training that converted them, one and all, into the muscle freaks that so pleased Mary’s other clients - her list of customers who would buy the girls for a fabulous price (which she didn’t reveal to me). I didn't care. She charged me for my ‘treatment’ and she sold the slaves for a very high price. It served my purposes and I could afford it - as of course could all those others whom she helped.

  She only took females of course. She had said Farouk’s island had male slaves as well but she wasn’t interested in them. I didn’t blame her. She did what she did very well and handling males would be much more difficult to say the least. Anyway, what was she going to do to them? Turn them into females or at least neutered males who had the appearance of females?

  No, she was right in sticking to girls, I thought.

  For the journey to the island, we went on commercial aircraft. Amelia, now restored officially to her real name, was dressed as a male and fitted with a silvery ring around her neck that looked decorative - but wasn’t.

  In fact it housed a device that could send the most horrible shocks to her body via the electrodes on either side of her neck. There was a battery that was kept charged by her own body heat and an electronic device that converted the battery’s low voltage into a huge shock that not only gave her dreadful pain but could also actually cause her to collapse.

  Kim kept the controller for this device in his pocket. If she strayed to far from him, she would be shocked automatically or he could work it himself, fingering one of two buttons on the controller: the first gave her a tingle, warning her to behave herself; the second activated the high-voltage shock that if continued would render her unconscious in seconds.

  I watched as this was placed on her neck before she was dressed and the Kim demonstrated its use to her. One tiny second of the high shock and she was instantly compliant.

  She looked perfectly natural in men’s clothes. Her body was now eminently suited to them and she really looked a fine figure of a man, her slim hips and broad chest giving her the appearance of a fine-bodied male Olympic athlete. There wasn’t even a hint she might have been female. Of course she wasn’t. Not any more, but her body didn’t even look as if she might once have been.

  We said our goodbyes to Mary and drove to Seoul where we departed from the airport, headed for Manila. From there we headed east towards the central Pacific, stopping off at smaller and smaller airports and using smaller and smaller aircraft on the way until we eventually boarded a long range helicopter that flew us to the island itself. No doubt it had a name but it was neve
r used. It was always just ‘the island’. The village was also just termed ‘the village’ and it was inhabited by a hotchpotch group of people who looked as if they had come from every part of the world.

  Farouk told me there were a couple of hundred people there, as well as the same number of slaves. We went straight to his house. He and his fellow founders of the community lived on one side of the central part of town and their twelve houses were very substantial and kept running at operating efficiency by the major-domo and his staff of slaves. The town square was the market place and also had the pillory, whipping post, and now the beginnings of the rowing machine set up on the lawn in the middle.

  The few shops including the village store and tinsmith (he sold all items of hardware, really) were there as was the slave dealer’s house.

  Outside of the town proper were the small farms owned by the farmers who also used slaves to till the soil and grow the produce to feed the people on the island. It was perhaps a dozen or so square miles and had some small hills and permanent water. It was a beautiful island and I fell in love with it straight away.

  I was also intrigued with Farouk’s household. He didn’t live there permanently. He had business and other interests back home but he spent a lot of time here as did his partners in the venture. The other free ‘citizens’ lived there, though. The economy of the whole community was sustained by the needs of the twelve major households and Farouk and his friends pumped enough money into it to keep it running along nicely.

  Every slave on the island was kept naked. They were all also eunuchs. The males had had not only their testicles sliced off but their penile members as well giving them a similar appearance to Amelia. All were handsome, young and superbly muscled. Hell, this whole island functioned around slavery. That was its only reason for being and so every slave owner strived to keep his or her human property in the peak of fitness and beauty and if fact, Farouk told me over dinner that they regularly held slave contests in which beauty, strength, endurance and sporting prowess were the criteria.