by Mark Andrews
He had been apprised of the situation vis-a-vis Kim and me and he asked me if I would like to share a room with my new lover. I agreed - very enthusiastically and he smiled benignly at me. By now, Kim and I had decided to marry. What we were going to do with our lives wasn’t clear at that time - it became clear a little while later, but I won’t jump the gun ...
His house was staffed by his major-domo, an Arab by the name of Ali who was very nice to Kim and me - but very hard on the slaves who made up the domestic staff under him. Each of them wore one of the silvery rings around his or her neck and these discouraged rebellion of even the smallest nature.
There were three slaves, two of whom had once been female but were now like Amelia and one of these had actually come from Mary’s camp. The male was black, the other two Asian (Japanese) and Caucasian (English). Really though, since all were as bald all over as Amelia and the girls obviously treated with hormones, it would have been hard to have guessed their previous sex.
None of them were as muscular as Amelia, though and I grinned as I thought of her future employment in Farouk’s household. Ali took her away as soon as we arrived and Kim and I settled in to our suite of rooms, taking a long hot shower together (during which we made ardent love together, right there under the needle-sharp blast, and then rested (well, we lay down on the huge bed, anyway), until it was time to dress for dinner.
We were waited on (and Kim now joined us at the table not as one of Mary’s guards but as my partner) by two of the slaves, the black and the Japanese girl and they did it with a panache that had me blinking in surprise. Mary trained her girls to be obedient, strong and possessed of an incredible physical endurance, (as well as the sex training, of course) but she didn’t make any attempt to train them as servants.
These ones were quite perfect and apart from their total nakedness, you would be forgiven for wondering if they had come out of some great house in England.
During dinner, Farouk explained his and his friends’ penchant for ancient slavery and how they made sure each of the boys and girls they bought had been criminals of one kind or another (alright Amelia wasn’t exactly a criminal but she was in my eyes), who had escaped punishment only by a technicality of the law.
Duma, the black, had raped a number of little girls; the Japanese girl, Senshi, had defrauded her employer of a substantial sum. He had given her the choice. Take her punishment from Mary, or suffer under the law. She would probably have been better off risking the wrath of a judge than Mary’s punishment for it was permanent and now no-one knew where she was.
It seemed the island had been set up only a few years but it was a thriving community, hidden away off the shipping lanes and shielded from any stray yachties by extensive coral reefs all around it. They had searched carefully for it and had chosen it over others for its remoteness and lack of contact with the rest of the world.
As dinner approached its conclusion, Farouk looked at me kindly. “You have been most patient, Judy,” (we were now on first name terms) “but I know you must wish to see your enemy’s new accommodations ...?”
I grinned. “I would, yes.”
We trooped out of the back of the house to the stables where was housed Farouk’s gig, the saddles and other riding gear - and the stalls for his ponies. He only had one - yes, you guessed it- Amelia. The three inside servants were domestics and cooked (the English girl named Jane) and cleaned and waited on their master under Ali’s direction.
But Farouk had wanted a slavegirl as a pony and he had been in contact with Mary for some time asking of the possibilities. Amelia had been her first choice.
I stared in at the girl in her stall. As Kim and I had frolicked under the shower and on the bed and then had dinner, she had been prepared by Ali and the village blacksmith - well really the village handyman, but they used old-fashioned terms there.
She was again naked - her proper state, but now had a large iron ring in the septum of her nose, the lobes of her ears and her nipples and iron rings had been fitted around her wrists. All these rings matched the one she still wore around her neck, gleaming brightly in the lights of the stables. She was chained by her nose ring to the back wall of the stall which made up one of a pair although hers was the only one filled with the straw that was going to be her only bedding.
Some raw vegetables had been thrown in to her stall and their remnants were scattered amidst the straw. She looked up at us fearfully. “What is going to happen to me?” she asked tremulously.
For her insolence, she received a powerful back-hander from Ali while Farouk smiled benignly down on her as she crouched down in the straw. “You will learn, slave, that you are no longer human. You are now a pony and ponies neigh and whinny. As a pony you will carry me around the village and the island, either on your back or in the gig you see over there. Please me and you will escape punishment. Show the slightest rebellion to your new fate and you will think Dr Partridge’s camp was a picnic for I demand instant obedience and maximum effort from each of my slaves.
“You will continue to receive the hormones that keep you so masculine in appearance and you will also continue with the hard physical training that has developed those splendid muscles. I intend to show you, just like a prize animal at an agricultural show in your own country and if you win me prizes, you will escape more pain. If not, you will bear the consequences ...”
We left her then, Kim and I again eager to strip out of our clothes and make hay on the satin sheet on the huge bed in our suite.
We did, too. I still couldn’t get enough of his so beautiful body and he professed the same admiration for mine. “You are so wonderfully athletic, Judy,” he said. “I adore your fine muscles - so much more beautiful than those on Amelia ...”
I grinned up at him as he stretched his long body out over mine. “She’s ugly, Kim. I think she’s got her just desserts and I’m glad she’s going to spend the rest of her days as a pony slave ...”
“Oh I don’t think that’s all she will do. Have you noticed this house and the other major buildings on the island are all built of stone blocks?”
I nodded but I wasn’t clear what he was getting at. “So?”
He grinned again and his smile melted me as it always did. “Where d’you think the stone came from?”
“Oh. Of course. There’s a quarry here?”
“There is and when more building stones are required the slaves turn into labourers to work down in the pit, using crowbar and pick and then, under the direction of the mason, fashion the blocks into the required dimensions.”
“And she will do this?”
“At times, yes, apparently, so Ali told me, anyway. “Wonderful,” I said. “I can hardly wait to watch her toil as a
quarry slave but now, make love to me once more ...”
Chapter 7
We did see Amelia toil as a quarry slave, but not for some time. Her prime role in Farouk’s household was going to be as a pony and so that was how we saw her the next day.
She wasn’t saddled on that day. Farouk told us that no matter how strong she was and how well conditioned to unremitting hard work, wearing a saddle on her back and carrying him or either of us would require more long conditioning and training. But that didn’t stop him having her harnessed to his gig .
We went to watch as she was fitted out with all the accoutrements of a human pony.
I gloried in it. At last Amelia was being brought down to the level of an animal - and that was how she would end her days, I thought, well pleased with her ultimate fate, and that I was going to be there to see it all.
First, they fitted her out with her bridle. This fitted over her totally bald scalp and was designed for a human head. There was a strap that ran over the top of her head and down between her eyes and then split into two to pass either side of her nose and these ended in a ring at her cheeks. From these
rings, other straps went up beside her eyes and over her head to join the central strap.
At the place they joined, right up on top of her head, a magnificent ponytail poked up and slightly backwards. It was long and comprised of many hairs - human hair and as she tossed her head, it flowed wonderfully.
There was another strap that joined these vertical ones. This went around her forehead to the back of her head. Additionally, there were two other straps that were attached to the cheek rings as well as the bit that was pulled hard back into her mouth and forced her to keep it at least partially open all the time.
The bit itself was made of steel and was therefore quite unforgiving. Farouk told me that if she was unable to cope with the bit at the back of her mouth, he would have her four back teeth removed to accommodate it. She stared at him in horror as he said these words and I grinned at her new shock at what could be done to her.
The two remaining straps from the rings went under her chin (to be buckled tightly so as to pull her mouth up as close to the bit as possible, while the other one went back under her ears to be buckled behind her neck.
When all these straps had been appropriately tightened, she look wonderful: a real life human pony with a magnificent pony tail apparently growing out of her otherwise naked scalp.
Reins were now clipped to the sides of the bit and then gleaming, quite heavy chains went from her ear lobes to the ring around her neck and from her nose, down over her lips, also to be clipped to the neck ring. The effect of these was to keep her head properly bowed.
She was then led over to the gig.
It too was a beautifully crafted item. It could take two people on the bench seat and its wheels were of the high narrow type, rather like bicycle wheels. From the axle, just inside the wheels, two gleaming, stainless steel tubes ran forward and these curved around to join in a U-shape at the front. Two lugs had been fitted to the tube about a foot back from where they began to curve in and immediately in front of them were the rubber grips for the pony to hold onto the pipes. There was another one at the very front.
Amelia was led in to stand inside the pipes and then ordered to squat down and pick them up. Once she was standing erect again, Ali locked chains from the lugs to the rings around her wrists and then took another, slighter longer one and clipped one end to the ring on her left nipple, passed it down and through the lug at the very front of the bar at her waist and up again to clip it to the ring dangling from her right nipple. If she dropped the bar now, it would drag heavily on her nipples as well as on the rings around her wrists.
Apart from these adornments however, she was left perfectly naked - except for one final indignity - her tail. It was made from exactly the same hair as that she now wore on the top of her head and was attached to - yes, you guessed it, a nice big fat dildo. It was designed so that it didn’t flow out of the bottom of the dildo but poked up out of a sort of u-fitting so that it seemed to poke up and out from out of the crack between her buttocks and then flowed over to hang down behind her, like the tail on a real horse.
Ali forced the dildo into her rectum and now she looked like a real human pony complete with two tails. She was led outside where Farouk climbed up onto the bench and invited me to join him. Kim stayed with Ali but later, Farouk assured me, the two of us could take her around the village and along the road that ran around the island and others that led to the various farms dotted all over it.
For now, he wanted her to get the feel of the gig and to see what she was capable of.
He shook the reins against her back and called out for her to ‘giddy-up’ at which she moved from a walk to a trot and I just about creamed in my pants as I watched the powerful muscles in her back rippling and cording - and particularly her fine, so muscular buttocks forming up as they tensioned with each step into the long narrow muscles of an athlete and then relaxed as her body passed over that leg. And of course as her buttocks twitched from side to side, so did the tail poking out between them.
She could use her belly to aid in pulling the gig by pushing against the curved bar at her waist but most of the work would be felt by her arms and shoulders and I grinned as I thought of how useful all that muscle training she had undergone was now going to be.
I sat back against the rest behind my back and alternated between looking at the beauty of the tropical island and at our human pony now showing a delightful moisture that gilded her tanned skin and gave it the appearance of molten gold.
Farouk ran her into and around the village, stopping at each group of people to show off his most recent acquisition, all of whom admired her - as one would a new pony. Their admiration was to him, not to Amelia and she stood there in shame and mortification that she could be so ignored as a human being, but admired as an animal.
I admired her body while still hating the person inside it. Her splendid muscles flexed and rippled wonderfully as she walked or trotted along the main street and particularly her now very well- developed biceps muscles that were being applied to holding the bars up. They and her shoulder muscles really looked like those on a male athlete, particularly as the development of her upper body (and her shoulders especially) had broadened them far more than was usual on a girl, even one who was a champion athlete.
Later, when we returned to his house, Kim replaced Farouk on the seat and he bade us work her really hard. “Take her right around the island,” he said. “The road is fifteen miles right around. It will tell us if she is as fit as Dr Partridge thinks she is ...”
I grinned. This would indeed be a real test of her strength and stamina. She was certainly strong and the tests Mary had run on her body showed her to be as fit as a marathon runner but would she be able to pull the gig, laden with Kim and me that far?
Kim held the reins and he clicked them against her back and off she went, the two tails now flowing out behind her head and bottom wonderfully as she trotted along the gravel road. At least it was flat all the way round the island, Farouk had told me, so she wouldn’t have the added load of dragging us up hill and down dale but it would be hard, nevertheless.
Fifteen miles at say, five miles and hour. Three hours, not counting rest breaks for she would have to have them. We had decided five minutes every half hour and more if she seemed to need it so we should be back by lunch time.
We were, too. She displayed a quite remarkable fitness, actually, trotting along at a nice clip all the time, her powerful thighs carrying her along in an easy lope while Kim and I stared around us at the sparkling blue sea outside the coral reef and the magnificent green jungle (interspersed with coconut palms and the occasional farm) inland of us. We met some of these farmers and stopped to introduce ourselves and explain who Amelia was. They all made us feel very welcome, asking how long we were staying and one even asked whether we would be making a home amongst them.
I looked at Kim - and suddenly we knew what we wanted, without even voicing it.
“We could do this?” I asked the farmer.
“New people are coming all the time,” he replied. “Only in dribs and drabs. But as long as they go along with our slave constitution and will fit in with our citizens, they are very welcome.”
We thanked him and took off again, now talking excitedly of the possibility. When we finally got home and Farouk had examined Amelia, expressing surprise - and pleasure that she still seemed fit and capable of even more work, we asked him about making a home there.
As we sat down to lunch, served by the two naked slaves, he smiled at us both. “Why do you think I asked you here?” he said ingenuously. “When I spoke to Dr Partridge about buying Amelia as a pony and she mentioned you two, I wondered then if perhaps you might not find a life here with us to be of interest. Of course I inquired as to your personalities and she assured me she thought you would both be very acceptable to us here.
“It will need the concurrence of my partners but I am
sure they will concur ...”
I wondered then at Mary’s perspicacity. It seemed she had twigged Kim and me even that far back.
We began to make plans immediately. We would need a house - one like Farouk’s and those of the other investors for we would become a partner with them, our share going towards the provision of a small hydro-electric generating station to provide permanent power to the little village and some of the farms.
I was quite happy to do this. My trust fund was very, very ample and the amount required would not make very much of a dint in it at all. Of course a new house meant more building stones and so every available slave would be utilised in extracting and hewing the stones - especially Amelia.
Once our proposition was accepted by the Council and we had agreed with the builder as to the design, she and others were herded down to the quarry and now I watched with more glee as my enemy was forced into the devilish hard work of levering huge blocks of the beautiful white limestone out of the rock face and then using the tools to shape each one according to his directions.
We thought it would take forever but it didn’t. When a new resident was coming, everyone donated their slaves’ labour to help build the new house and so there were many hands down in the quarry, all working under the whip (and the electronic devices in the rings around each of their necks) to create the beautiful blocks that would soon form the floor and walls of our house. They varied from the purest white to a pale salmon to a pale amber colour and the builder would use the different colours to make a most pleasing face to the building.
Kim and I spent our time between the quarry and the new site, watching as more and more blocks were extracted and shaped and then hauled up to be carried on a cart (pulled by more slaves of course) to the site to be carefully placed in position at the builder’s direction.
Amelia moved from one position to another, as did all the slaves. One day she might be in the quarry, the next at the building and the one after that, taking us in the gig for a picnic. Slave transport wasn’t the only type used there. There were no motors on the island at all but electric cars were used by Farouk and his partners and there were also equine horses as well as human ponies.
