Authors: Johnny Stone
The fitter removed items from a shelf one by one, dressing me in them. He fretted and fussed over each and every piece like a mother hen, ensuring they fit properly. It wasn’t uncommon for him to remove a particular item of annoyance several times, making small adjustments, before continuing on to the next one, finally satisfied. It was all a vibrant shade of hot pink though, and very girlish looking. I don’t like pink much.
It was hard to resist the urge to rock back and forth on the balls of my feet; my boots
were
very comfortable, and fit like a glove, made of supple leather that ended just below my knees. The thick soles flared out into the overall shape of a horse’s hoof, increased my overall height by several inches, while lifting my ass and giving my legs the impression of being much longer than they really were. Ironically, they made a ‘clip-clop’ noise whenever I moved.
Just like a real pony
.
The soft leather body harness was of an intricate cross-thatch design that reminded me of narrow cargo webbing held together with strategically placed, interlocking metal rings. Except for the narrowing strap that ran between my legs, reappearing as nothing more than a G-string from my ass, I was left exposed from the waist down. It did have stiff leather, cup-like lifts that fit under my breasts, supporting and pushing them up, giving me a tremendous amount of buxom cleavage in the process.
Wow, that’s a first,
I thought admiring myself. Damn, I was starting to look like what, some sort of sexy bondage toy?
Small white and pink tassels with a tiny bell on silver ringlets were threaded through my nipples. I didn’t even know they were pierced until then. A slim pink choker with a gemstone encrusted platinum clasp was buckled below my restraint collar, and a pair of glamorous diamond earrings in a half-moon shape with teardrop crystals adorned my ears. My hair was put into a high ponytail, and tied with a diamond-studded band. My tail was tightly wrapped at the base making it stand out neatly erect, mimicking my hairstyle.
My mind wandered during the process, growing detached from the entire experience. It felt a little demeaning, if such an emotion was still possible for me, to have a stranger touch me in ways that I’d once considered intimate in a past life. The fitter’s hands never lingered for long where they didn’t need to be though, even when adjusting the strap that ran through my crotch, or while adjusting my breasts. I don’t know, maybe having Burke standing guard this time kept him in line. After I began to relax and just go with the flow, I actually started to enjoy it in a weird sort of way. It was the same feeling of warm contentment I got whenever I went to a spa for a day of pampering on one of those very rare occasions when my meager funds had allowed it.
Next came my bit and bridal with a set of actual reins. The soft rubber or plastic of my bit, I couldn’t tell which, tasted a little queer at first. It instantly formed to my new teeth when I bit into it, molding around them before growing hard. It was Memory-Plast and custom fit only to me now. The cool metal rings of my head harness sent an unlikely chill racing through my body. Of course the most noticeable effect was when my enormous nipples sprang to life. They were bright pink, at least a half-inch in length, and only slightly darker than the small areola surrounding them. They seemed to pucker, growing noticeably harder whenever I looked at Burke.
“Hold off on the blinders and mittens, I need to get her used to the weight of the saddle and walking around first. And you can take the jewelry back off; she won’t be needing it until the night of the party.” The old man shrugged, placing a pair of full-length leather arm mittens back on the shelf, followed my sparkling adornments.
“Now for my masterpiece, Mr. Burke.” The contraption in the fitter’s hands resembled a cross between a saddle and a chair with stirrups if I had to put a name to it. “I still can’t believe she’s going to be carrying Mrs. Savota around on her back. She’s so small and…well she’s just so small and weak looking.”
“Connell,” Burke chuckled in an off-handed manner, lighting a cigarette, leaning back against the wall. “She could snap you in half and toss you through the wall before I could stop her. I suggest you remember in the future not to judge a book by its cover.” The old man’s face noticeably paled. I couldn’t help but smile showing off my new pearly whites clamped around my bit. The fitter managed to regain some of his courage, motioning for me to go to my knees.
“Well it’s a good thing she has restraints on then, isn’t it? And another thing, Nathan,” he growled in an annoyed, snippy manner. “I wish you wouldn’t smoke in here, it could cause an explosion despite the ventilation fans.”
Burke cocked his head, brow raised, pulling a thin chain from around his neck with a micro-card dangling from the end of it. He swiped it through the narrow slot in my collar, which was followed by a muted beep. It split at the hinge-point, slipping from around my neck. My wrist and ankle cuffs quickly followed suit as the fitter shuffled away from me horror stricken.
“Nathan, you’re not supposed to do that! No one can authorize a slave’s restraints being removed except Mr. Savota,” he whispered looking around. “What would happen if she tried to escape or-”
“Or what, attacked you, this little thing? Show some backbone, Connell. Like you said, she’s so small, right? If you don’t like it then report me. I’m going outside to finish my smoke since you seem so worried about it; finish up and bring her out when you’re done.” With that Burke turned and left the room.
I was hard pressed to contain my laughter at the fitter’s expression of furious uncertainty; Burke was messing with his head, turning the tables for a change, and I liked it. I wasn’t even thinking of escape now, I knew I wouldn’t make it far if I did try, but maybe in the back of my mind I didn’t want to escape, at least not from Nathan Burke.
The fitter continued quietly with his task, much more reserved than he’d been a few moments ago. It felt strange having the upright saddle-thing on my back, but it did seem to fit rather well, being padded in all the right places. He checked me over one last time before taking my reins and leading me back out front. The clip-clop sound of my boots gave me a weird, tingly feeling in the pit of stomach, which gradually slithered its way between my thighs. This entire experience definitely ranked right up there on my ‘weird shit-o-meter’, but it was a good kind of weird. Despite being a slave, I actually liked how I looked for the first time in my life, not to mention the sensation of soft leather caressing my skin, combined with its intoxicating smell, made me feel so…so naughty all of a sudden.
Burke smiled when I was presented before him, our little joke on the fitter coming to an end. His eyes politely roamed about me, inspecting me in my leather-clad nakedness, while I grew warm under his gaze. I nervously chewed at my bit, anxious to find out if he approved of the finished product, or not. I was slowly coming to grips with all that was happening to me, made much easier by the man standing before me. Our budding relationship between Overseer and slave wasn’t normal, I could tell that much already.
“Her restraints,” the fitter said stiffly, clearing his throat, holding them out in his hand. Burke reached for them nonchalantly, giving me an adorably cute, sidelong smirk that sent a wave of simmering moisture oozing through my pussy.
“All right, 18, we both know it’s a well-proven fact that you aviation weenies are nothing but a bunch of slack-jawed wimps.” For the first time since meeting him, Burke seemed to have a twinkle of animated life behind his sexily, enticing eyes. “Let’s see if maybe you can prove me wrong for a change.”
Rivalry between Fleet aviation and Fleet strike had been the thing of near legend ever since their conception and now it looked like it was time for me to prove who the better branch was yet again.
Okay jarhead, now the gloves come off,
I thought wistfully as the corner of my upper lip curled in a defiant sneer.
“Yes, Sir!” I slurred around my bit, with more mischievous fire than I’d felt in a long time.
***
Slave World’s double suns were low in the sky when I started my training. I was actually surprised since my internal clock said it should be much later than it actually was. The days must be longer; well past the standard 60-minute hour, and 24-hour days that ship standard time was still based on. No big deal, once I figured it out I could reset my processor accordingly.
My initiation into being a pony slave went on for several more long and grueling hours. It was quite a shock actually, yet strangely calming in a way. I was going to have to forget everything I knew about myself in order to succeed. My thoughts and mannerisms, my posture, the way I acted; everything had to replicate an actual horse now, even down to whinnying instead of talking.
The Master apparently owned numerous ponies, more than I’d seen in my short time of walking about. Some of my newfound brothers and sisters watched my indoctrination from a respectable distance. Most of them were the tall and overly muscled brutes like I’d seen earlier.
They’re definitely in shape that’s for sure.
Their impressive physiques had to be the result of a strict, intensive training program mixed with drug enhancement. Humans, if that’s what we still were, just couldn’t get that ripped without a little bit of a push, and because of it, it made perfect sense why Burke was the Overseer of the stables. The size of the pony brutes alone would have been intimidating to most normal people, with or without a restraint collar. Burke wasn’t normal though; his strength augmentation, not to mention military training, would easily be able to keep them in line.
I did see several very petite and simply gorgeous little females mixed in with them on occasion. They were all buxom slices of perfection like I was, and carried themselves with a distinct poise and grace. Regardless if they were big or small, all of them were modified just as I was with ears, a tail, and in most cases, multi-pattern skin color. I still found it hard to take my eyes off the stallions; every damn one of them was hung like a horse, and their endowment was literally realistic. I could only think of one reason why they would be modified like that, and wondered who the recipient of it would be? Was it for some of the more kinky elite of Slave World, or was it meant for breeding with the mares? I’d heard mention of a reproduction program during the inprocessing. I suppose it really didn’t matter; one way or another, I’d find out soon enough.
I did happen to notice an exceptionally large stallion watching me with judging eyes. He was gray and covered with dark spots, by far the largest among the group.
Must be something like the alpha male?
I didn’t care for the way he looked at me; it reminded me of Dobbs when he wanted to fuck me. This guy’s going to be trouble; I could see that much already. I received a light slap on my ass from Burke’s crop, drawing my attention back to the task at hand.
“Pay attention, 18, you need to get the basics down and you don’t have much time. You’ll learn more as time goes on, but this is your crash course to say the least. By the way, you’re doing very well, better than I expected actually. You seem to be a natural for this.”
I felt a swelling of pride, holding my head just a bit higher. I almost said thank you, but caught myself, giving a soft whinny instead. At least we didn’t have to stay in the pony role all the time or so I gathered from the others watching me. They were talking softly amongst themselves, and were acting normal for the most part.
As normal as a human-horse hybrid is supposed to act, I guess.
Burke tapped my right leg signaling me to kneel, easing into the saddle for the first time tonight. The pull on my shoulders and waist gradually increased, becoming a sagging weight of protesting leather, as his feet slipped cautiously into the stirrups; this was something new for him as well.
Damn he’s heavy!
It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle; I just wasn’t expecting it was all. Burke shouldn’t have weighed more than 200 pounds or so by my guess, even with his implanted gear. He felt like he weighed a hell of a lot more than that for some reason.
“Okay, 18, take it nice and slow.” He grasped my reins lightly. “Come up in a single motion, keep your back straight and head up. Use your knees just like dead-lifting any type of weight.” I slowly rose to a standing position, wiggling my hips a little to help settle his weight. The volume of whispered conversation from the other ponies increased, and was accompanied by more than a few gasps of astonishment.
Uh oh…
I started to weave, feet shuffling. I was going over backwards with Burke’s randomly shifting weight.
Damn, this is going to be harder than I thought.
His grip on my reins grew tighter, followed by a hushed murmur of encouragement.
“Come on, Margo, you can do this, concentrate and don’t fight it. I know you can carry more than this on a bad day.”
Grrrr…Dammit, he’s right.
I was so top-heavy now, and the weird footing of these hoof boots only seemed to make my balance worse. It was like my whole equilibrium was out of kilter, and I was trying to learn to walk all over again. I glanced down briefly at the ample flesh of my new breasts, grinning.
Naw,
being top heavy isn’t so bad.
With a little bit of luck, I finally managed to regain my balance without dumping the both of us on the ground.
“We’ll start out slow. Just try walking, nice and easy.” I had to lift my feet a bit higher than normal. It was an exaggerated high step that forced me to lock my back ramrod straight.
Head up…
Chest out…
Ass pushed back…
Arms up in front of me prancing style…
The slight tug on my reins pulled my head, guiding my movements about the yard with growing confidence. Burke was firm, yet gentle, and the heat of his body next to mine made my tail swish in a lazy, happy pattern. It was his voice that I found most enthralling; it had the uncanny ability to sooth my discomforting worries while turning my insides to jittery goo.
It wasn’t long before my conscious mind began to wander, entering a hazy state of content automation under Burke’s control. Without realizing it or maybe he did, Burke had effortlessly managed to coax me into a state of total surrender. It was so simple though, so easy to get lost in. All my thoughts gravitated around pleasing him and following his commands as flawlessly as possible. It was actually frightening in a way, because as strange as it sounds, I really didn’t mind relinquishing control to him like this. The fact that he was on my back, riding me like an actual horse in the first place, sent shivers of wanton eroticism streaking down my spine. Trust me; it wasn’t long before I started to fantasize about him riding me in other ways.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about Burke any longer; my emotions were in a bit of a jumbled mess over the issue. I’d only known him for a few short hours, yet I still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that we’d met somewhere before. Maybe it was on board a ship? We
were
both stationed on the Intrepid at one point. Our short, yet estranged relationship had already taken on the easy calm of long lost friends, or maybe past lovers?
Oh shit, did I have sex with him at some orgy, and don’t even remember it?
How embarrassing would that be? No, my body’s innate response to him would have remembered it, if I had. A girl doesn’t easily forget a man like Burke.
It was dark now, several hours past sunset, yet my training continued in the artificially lit grounds near the stables. I was tired, dog tired, and the heavy sheen of perspiration slithering about my skin gave testimony to the fact that Burke still had the soul of a Marine Drill Instructor.
I’m finished, buddy, you win. Round one goes to Fleet Strike.
But like any experienced taskmaster, Burke instinctively knew that I’d been pushed to my limits, if not slightly beyond. A light tap on my thigh told me to kneel, and he dismounted, coming to stand in front of me, taking my reins.
“Very good, 18, you did well tonight.”
I looked up at him with exhausted eyes, whinnying faintly, panting slightly. He reached out stroking my matted hair, and the side of my cheek. His touch lingered just a bit too long to be a simple caress of approval. I closed my eyes nuzzling his hand, growing giddy behind glowing cheeks. I felt like a young girl again with a crush on the hottest kid in school.
Burke broke the spell, hand drifting away with a pull of my reins. “Let’s get that gear off so you can get cleaned up and shown to your stall for the night.” He stopped just as quickly, walking over to where he’d set my restraints down. “I need to put these back on, sorry,” he whispered regretfully. My large glacier blue eyes stared back sadly, as my brief time of blissful freedom, even if only perceived in my mind, drew to an end.
The heaven sent air-conditioning of the stables sent a series of rippling shivers through me, or perhaps it was something much more primal, that I shamefully wanted to embrace?
Clip clop…
Clip clop…
Clip clop…
My boots resounded off the hard tile floor of the main hallway like a twisted cadence of female acquiescence, hypnotic and mesmerizing in a way that called to something long extinct in the human psyche. It became my heartbeat, pulling me under, as I focused on Burke’s broad back that writhed like a caged python beneath his sweat-soaked shirt. I couldn’t have stopped my gaze from drifting lower in narcotic longing even if I’d wanted too.
Damn, he’s got a nice ass.
My sexual fantasies about Burke slowly began to warp into something dark and unspoken. They were erotic visions of being controlled and willingly broken, of obeying his every command while he used my body for his own sexual fulfillment, no different than he’d done in my training tonight.
Whoa, this is just too weird…I must be tired, or something. Yeah, that’s it, I’m just tired is all, right?
So why did the leather strap running between my legs, feel mushy from more than just a liberal coating of sweat?
The old fitter, Connell, was gone for the night, replaced by a younger night attendant. Burke wouldn’t let him so much as lay a finger on me, removing every piece of my gear himself. Slowly, deliberately, he drew it out as if not wanting it to end.
I
didn’t want it to end that’s for sure. I closed my eyes, teeth chattering silently under the feel of Burke’s hands. I thought I vaguely sensed them hungering for more, or perhaps it was just wishful thinking on my part? He hadn’t done anything thus far that would be constituted as ‘putting the moves on me’, had he? I was given back a matching set of pink fishnet briefs and tank top.
“No, keep them off.” I froze in the process of pulling up my panties. Burke was staring at me with that weird, uncertain expression again. I let them slip back down my legs, growing hopeful in a way that was as frightening as it was welcome. “I mean, you don’t want to get them dirty, do you? Wait to get dressed until after your bath.” His voice trailed off at the end, almost shyly.
“Yes, Sir.”
Several minutes later, and much to my raging libido’s disappointment, I was placed in the custody of one of the night handlers.
“This is pony 18, Mrs. Savota’s new riding mare. She’s had a hard night of training and doesn’t know her way around yet so make sure she gets bathed, receives a rub down and then shown to the dining room.” Burke silently met my gaze with an intensity that took my breath away. It was crazy, like I could almost see the sparks leaping between us. “I’ll be back in the morning to continue your training. Goodnight, 18.” And with that, he was gone, followed by a sense of unexpected loneliness.
“Let’s go, 18, hurry up, I haven’t got all night.” The bitter tone of the handler shook me from my reverie. “Thanks to ‘Mr. Ramrod’, I have to baby sit you for another hour or so instead of going home for dinner with my wife,” he mumbled, while I scowled at his back.
I wonder what Burke would say about your whining?
I knew exactly what he would say;
wash the sand out of your pussy, suck it up and drive on!
Yep, that’s exactly what he would tell him.
I quickly discovered why Burke had said we were well treated, the cream of the crop among the slaves owned by the Master. First, the handler along with another attendant gave me a relaxing, hot mineral bath. They gently washed me with soft sponges, delightfully scraping the sweat and grime from my body, while I melted like butter in their hands. It ranked up there as one of the most euphoric experiences outside of an orgasm that I could ever remember. It didn’t bother me in the least that they were both men, especially with my new body. Damn I’m hot, and in more ways than just one. I still couldn’t stop thinking about Burke, and the way he looked at me before leaving.
It was hard to keep my kindled yearning in lockdown while every square inch of my flesh was tenderly lavished. That wasn’t even the best part, because after my bath, I received a full body massage with scented oil and moisturizing lotion. It felt like I had died and gone to heaven, as my already relaxed body became a lump of hand-kneaded mush. Neither one of the handlers spoke to me while they went about their task, but I was content to lay there in silence, imagining Burke was the one exploring every steaming crevice, as I was sinfully pampered for the first time in my life. I was well past the point of being ravenously horny by the time they finished.
After dressing in my meager allotment of clothing, I was shown to the dining room and instructed to take a seat by a female attendant wearing a simple dark blue smock and slacks. I was the only one in the large room other than a bored looking guard.