Authors: Johnny Stone
Chapter Twelve
Nathan had known full well that Michael had plans to kill him, alerted by the transmissions piggybacked to his own wrist-com while still in Port City. He’d come back to the ranch ready to end it that night, just as Michael wanted. Nathan had been prepared for everything Michael could throw at him, except me shooting him. The guilt still lingered in the back of my mind whenever I looked in his eyes. I knew I’d never be able to get over it completely or forget the look of pained surprise staring back at me just before I’d pulled the trigger.
I wasn’t exactly sure when Nathan had entered the smoking, ruined dining room to find me kneeling among the slaughter that used to be my Master; everything about that night was such a blur. I remembered little things though, how the barrel of his pulse rifle was white-hot from prolonged use, the air around it shimmering with heat. A small umbilical led from the stock of his weapon into a jack on one of his hands, while his eyes glowed slightly with an internal light, filled with targeting data and a heads up display.
I was in shock, numbly aware of my surroundings, unsure of what to do next, while I stared down blankly at the remote still attached to the smoldering stump of Michael’s arm. For the first time since my capture, it almost felt like I was in control of my life again. Nathan thought we should destroy the remote right then and there, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. In the end I gave it to him to keep, to look after. Oddly enough, I’d wanted no choice in the matter. I would let Nathan ultimately decide what the fate of my remote would be.
Things changed so much after that crazy night in the main house. Michael’s remaining henchmen disappeared into the night. They knew it was over and everything was about to change forever. A few remained behind, those that were nothing more than simple employees of a deranged and power hungry megalomaniac. They stayed to help us set things right again.
Clean up of the ranch had started the next day. It had taken a long time to get everything back into some semblance of normalcy again, even now, six months later, construction or demolition was still going on in various locations. Then there was the issue of all the slaves and how to deal with them. Nathan wanted nothing to do with the concept of slavery, and surprisingly Donna, the real one that slowly started to make its reemergence over time, agreed with him on the matter. The majority of slaves, the ones born here that knew nothing else, had stayed on to work as paid employees for Nathan and Donna. This was their home and they opted to stay despite the memories. Others wanted off Slave World as quickly as possible, and who could blame them?
In the weeks that followed the battle, Nathan cleared their registration numbers, as well as mine, from Slave World Central Processing and the Holloway Company. As a final show, our brands and tracking devices had been removed; the closing act in a long dark play of depravity that was known as the Savota ranch. We were all free now. What a strange concept for me to grasp…
There had nearly been a riot among the other Landowners after word got out about what had happened. Michael Savota’s slaves were free now? Some of them wanted to leave Slave World? Impossible! The secret of this place couldn’t get out; no one could know the true extent of what went on here. The local militia had been mobilized, and another battle had nearly ensued.
Nathan hadn’t been lying when he said that he had friends. Many of them were just hired guns at this point; battle hardened veterans like himself that made a living the only way they knew how. Within five days of Michael’s death, some of them began to arrive. It was probably a good thing the other Landowners decided not to attack the Burke ranch; Nathan and his close-knit band of professional killers would have brought down a world of hurt on them the likes of which they had never experienced before. Money, lawyers and corporate power meant little to those with weapons that had the determination and training to use them with deadly efficiency. Sure the Landowners could have hired a privately owned army at a ridiculous price to get rid of us, but what was the point? They had much more to lose than they had to gain at this point.
They ultimately decided it was best just to leave the Burkes alone. In the end a deal had been brokered; the slaves that had chosen to leave were allowed to, but only in stasis and on independently owned freighters of the other Landowners. At least this way the location of Slave World would still remain a secret to them, and the rest of the universe in whole.
A permanent guard force of people Nathan trusted worked for him and Donna now, all of them prior service, a large percentage of them partially augmented like I was. Donna and the others would be safe here for the rest of their lives thanks to these men and women.
One of the things that surprised me after it was all over with was Cirus. I found him to be a very likable person, if not a very mild mannered and courteous gentleman, after his recovery from what looked to be a horrendous period of torture, followed by all the drugs being flushed out of his system. I thought it was sweet how Donna stayed by his side nearly the entire time, lovingly nursing him back to health. It was just a good thing his drug injections ended when they did; being pumped up like that all the time would have undoubtedly ended his life in a matter of years. As it was, the damaged organs could still be easily replaced, or heal on their own, with no lasting side effects.
My short and secretive time as his ‘mate’, and the misguided, yet passionate desire we felt for one another, thankfully drew to an abrupt, yet awkward conclusion shortly thereafter. Cirus had opted for reversal surgery, becoming human again like all the rest of Michael’s pets and slaves. The scent, the lust, the need we felt for one another was gone forever now, hopefully, and we never spoke of what transpired during our single breeding day, or about the shower episode. I had Nathan now and he had Donna; the past was in the past, and sometimes the truth was best left buried away for everyone involved.
A bit of good news was that Donna wasn’t nearly as brain damaged as everyone had been led to believe over the years. Much of the damage had healed from her accident long ago, just as Michael had said, and in time all the drugs he’d been giving her wore off. She was still a little simple minded and lost on occasion, but nowhere near as bad as she’d been. At times I still wasn’t sure who was the real Donna; sometimes she would still get that eerily, hard look in her eyes, before it disappeared just as quickly. At least her overall prognosis was good, and we all had hopes she would eventually make a complete recovery, finding herself again, but only time would tell. Maybe Cirus could help her with this? They seemed very happy together, and made such a sweet looking couple.
***
I woke up right on time, greeted by the holographic vase of flowers Nathan gave me that night in the maintenance. It sat on the nightstand beside me, and stayed on all the time now; there was no more hiding it from anyone any longer. I rolled over with a sleepy grin, snuggling up to Nathan beside me. It felt so good waking up in my own bed, in my own bungalow – a home that I could call my own at last. I guess that wasn’t entirely true, it was technically ours now, mine and his.
Nathan was already awake, staring back at me with a crafty expression. I thought he looked incredibly sexy this morning, more so than usual, and at least ten years younger after shaving that mustache of his off. It was funny how he kept touching at his pale upper lip, still not believing it was gone after so many years. I’m still not sure if it was the gentle coercion of begging on my part, or the slap in the face threat of gluing a steel wool pad around my mouth the next time I went down on him that did the trick. I thought the second option was only fair, so
he
could experience what it was like getting whisker burn in such a sensitive area for a change.
I’d set my alarm for 45 minutes early in hopes of having a quickie before the big day. It looked like Nathan had the same thing in mind. I wiggled closer still, molding my rump against him and he caressed my hip, working his hand slowly through the erotic valley of my waist, then back up to one of my breasts. My legs spread as if given a silent command, when the glowing warmth of his erection pressed against me.
Nathan was anxious this morning, spooning me from behind with a hunger that I eagerly welcomed in my state of surrender to him. Most women might have taken offense or been hurt by the fact that they didn’t receive a morning kiss, coupled with a simple greeting of compassionate love first. It didn’t bother me in the least, because I knew a few moments of cuddling would come after he was finished using me for his release. I was his slave after all.
It seemed like our hectic bout of impromptu lovemaking ended all too soon; I could never get enough of Nathan. It was heated, enthusiastic, and satisfying as always despite being a twenty-minute quickie. Sometimes they were the best though, those spur of the moment periods of lust when you’re unwittingly woken from a sound sleep, or unexpectedly yanked into a closet with your dress pulled up and panties yanked around your ankles that sweep you away like no other moment in time.
Reluctantly, we both slid from bed amid the afterglow of amazing sex, getting ready for the wedding. Nathan looked simply dashing in a black tuxedo by the time we were ready to leave. I’d never known a man that could fill the role of seductive eye candy, while being surrounded with an air of distinguished importance, and still hide a potentially dangerous interior so well.
My outfit was just as fancy, but I’d added a few personal touches to the ensemble that made it a little risqué compared to traditional wedding garb. I’d decided on a dressy corset of the softest blue velvet that lifted my augmented breasts, yet elegantly covered them in a teasing display of ample femininity. The strapless, light blue gown beneath it was slit to mid thigh, and resembled a slightly sexier version of a hip-hugging cocktail dress. What can I say, Nathan liked it when I accented my figure, and I liked showing it off for him just as readily.
I must have spent forever trying to get my hair right, and still wasn’t completely happy with it by the time I finished. It was up in a partial bun, the style common to nobility these days, with the rest of it falling in a river of silver blond curls about my cheeks and neck. High fashion hairstyling was something I would have never dreamt of tackling before meeting Nathan, and I secretly wished he would have kept the stylist from the stables on staff for emergencies such as this.
I couldn’t help but sneak continual, sidelong glances at Nathan during the ceremony. He looked so hot in that suit! I’ll have to talk to him about dressing up more often, even if it’s only to remove his clothing a piece at a time later on. My wandering thoughts were drawn back to the wedding party on the stage. I’d respectfully declined to be among it, still feeling a little self-conscious about my appearance, around so many ‘normal’ looking people now.
“I know pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
I smiled, starting to cry. Donna looked simply stunning in her flowing white dress, and Cirus looked every bit of handsome, dressed up the way he was. He lifted her veil, leaning down to kiss her, among the applause of all those attending their wedding.
Donna turned with a look of child-like glee that she still had from time to time, tossing her bouquet over her shoulder into the crowd of waiting women. I was temporarily lost in a seething press of ravenous, female piranha, and screams of giddy excitement. The bouquet disappeared, lost from view amid a turbulent sea of lace, silk, and calico.
I didn’t catch it, Crystal did, but then again, I really didn’t try to either. I valued my fingers far too much for that. Crystal was a gorgeous little jewel of demur sensuality, just as prettily lovely now after her reversal surgery as when she’d been a pony. I was so happy for her when she’d found someone of her own recently; a former draft mare named Felicity. Guess this means they’re going to be the next ones getting married. I gave Nathan a pouting stare, wondering if he would ever pop the question to me one day.
“What?” he asked playfully, feigning ignorance. He knew what all right
. You can’t play dumb with me, Mr. Overseer Burke, Sir.
I never pushed the issue of marriage with him although I may have innocently hinted at it just a few times. Despite Nathan’s outwardly pampering, if not squishy demeanor with me in regards to some issues, nothing in the world was going to make him do something that he wasn’t good and ready for. The definition of stubbornness took on a whole new scope of reality, when it came to Nathan. Until then, I’d be patiently waiting, and silently hoping for that day to come.
Cirus and Donna made their way through the crowd to the waiting hover limo, while being showered with rice. Why do we do that, I wondered? I had no idea other than it was an ancient tradition. It was still fun to throw it at them regardless, and I laughed, wiping another tear from my cheek. I was so happy for them that I couldn’t help but unleash an involuntary whinny, much louder than I wished I had. I still did that a lot from time to time, despite the medication to repress my horse-like tendencies. It drew a few strange stares among the guests that didn’t know any better, while others looked on sad and sympathetic. I lowered my face in bashful discomfit, while Nathan took my hand and we politely wound our way through the dispersing guests toward his brother.
Donovan had arrived less than an hour before the ceremony was scheduled to start, but had played a pivotal role in Donna keeping the ranch and the Landowners Association in check. Once Nathan had notified him of the evolving situation, Donovan moved quickly to seize control of Michael’s business empire and all his assets. Donna received most of it, but of course he had to keep a share of it for himself, as ‘expenses and time spent’. The jerk, I still didn’t like him despite everything he’d done for us.
The entire pony and slave holo-porn business quickly came under injunctions and lawsuits, with Donovan’s full power behind them. Everything was recalled, and prospective distributors were ordered to ‘surrender any and all material related to it in their possession, or suffer dire consequences’. After that, everything had been destroyed: every disk, recording and program. Donovan couldn’t have images of his sister taking ponycock plastered all over the universe; it would look bad for his professional image.
For the most part it was successful, but the universe was a big place. I seriously doubted if everything had been turned over, gone forever in the hands of independent buyers that slipped through the cracks. It made me wonder if I was on any of them. Was someone watching me right now? Were strangers masturbating or having sex in the privacy of their homes to the image of a beautiful woman, a pony slave, being fucked on her one and only breeding day? The thought of it actually excited me a bit. I guess that maybe I’m an exhibitionist at heart now, because I still can’t restrain myself from proudly traipsing about the ranch naked from time to time.
Donavon stood out in the crowd, but then again, he was the kind of man that would stand out no matter where he went with his entourage of flunkies hovering in his wake. Everything from his clothing and accessories to his stance and mannerisms, screamed stately power and wealth. Everything about him was the best that money could buy, even the ruthlessness hiding in the depths of his emotionlessly, cold eyes. I might have considered him princely in a way, an older yet younger looking version of Nathan with age regression treatment, that is, if I didn’t hate his guts.
“I’m glad you could make it, Don, its means a lot to her, you know that, right?” Nathan and his brother shook hands, but their matching smiles were as fake as my tits.
“It is her wedding, after all. I can’t stay for the reception though; I have a meeting with the shareholders board in three hours.”
What an ass, business was more important than his sister’s wedding? I should have known. He was going through stock reports, minimizing the computer-generated data as we approached.
What a jerk…
No I didn’t like him, not one bit.
“Well, I just wanted to say thank you again for all your help.”
“Nathan? I’m going to go talk with Tiff for a little bit, okay?” He knew I couldn’t stand Donovan; the man looked at me like I was nothing more than a piece of shit.
“Sure, hon, I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He leaned down to kiss me, before I started in search of her.
We didn’t know the real name of the sweet-natured, magenta haired girl that I’d first met back in the holding cell on Regilain, no one did. She couldn’t even remember it now. I’d decided to name her Tiffany, in memory of my long lost friend. I’d always liked that name.
When I finally found her, my heart wept in despair. She was sitting in a chair staring intently at a holo-book, a child’s book, with her nurse talking her through it. The nurse was a state of the art Rothcore series 10 droid. You couldn’t even tell she was a synthetic except for her strange, mismatched-colored eyes.
I sighed remembering all too well what we’d found in the reproduction wing of Michael’s twisted world of augmented slaves; rows upon rows of things that used to be women tethered to cross bars, now turned into human animals that mooed, grunted, and snorted to communicate. They were all pregnant to some degree or another, with bloated bellies and massively swollen breasts hooked up to milking machines. They had large lifeless eyes, spotted skin, and tails that absent mindedly swished back and forth with a life of their own.
The women were exactly what they appeared to be; mindless cows used for breeding a genetically enhanced race for the open market here on Slave World. The neural inhibitors and mind wipe drugs had done their job too well. Whereas Donna had received only a mild dose once a week to keep her mentally incapacitated, the cows had been getting it in amounts just below the lethal level. Tiff was one of the very few lucky ones; the vast majority of women had to be euthanized. It was the only humane thing to do with them.
It was only because of Tiff’s limited exposure to the neural inhibitors that she was making such a good recovery, along with the other woman that had arrived at the same time we had. The doctors didn’t think she’d ever be the same again though; too much damage had already been done, but she had improved drastically over the last few months. The speech therapy was definitely helping, and her tutor said she was almost back to a second grade intelligence level again. Nathan was letting her stay at the ranch for as long as her recovery took, and Donna had even mentioned adopting her at one point. Tiff even had her own room in the main house, and had recently taken to calling Donna and Cirus, Mom and Dad.
The only ray of goodness that came out of the whole breeding program was in regards to the fetuses, newborns, and a hand full of toddlers that survived the Specter attack months ago. They had been sent off planet, courtesy of Donovan, and surrendered to the Federation Human Service’s Department. They would hopefully grow up to live normal lives as free citizens of the Federation, oblivious to the pain and evil that had brought them into the world. Tiff was expecting anytime now, and we were all mildly excited about it.
“Hi, Tiff, how are you?” I pulled up a chair next to her. “What are you reading?” She looked up smiling with an expression reminiscent of Donna’s, the first time I met her at the party.
“Hi, Aunt Margo. It’s a story ‘bout Cap’in Valiant and his ad...ad...venures in da scary and unknown sysem X.” The nurse politely excused herself, leaving Tiff and I alone.
“Is it good?”
“Yeah, but I’s still havin’ twrouble with some of the big wods. What’s dis one, Margo?” She asked pointing at the computer-generated words below the 3D image of a ship being attacked by some sort of make-believe, space monster.
“Cancel,” I replied softly.
“Oh, okay, tanks you.” She looked at me oddly for a moment. “Aunt Margo? Why’s you look like a horsy?” I gave her a weak smile, and my tail swished nervously behind me. Tiff asked me that every time she saw me.
I had a few obvious things changed, my skin color for one. I didn’t want to look like an albino any longer, so I had it darkened to a more natural tone again. My hair was a little shorter, and a pair of brand new, dainty, pink areolas and nipples replaced my original giant, elongated ones. The holes in them from the piercings had been permanent and kind of gross looking in my opinion. I’ve never been into body piercings much. On a more hidden level, I had my vaginal canal returned to its normal length; I had no intention of taking anything that big again, despite the alluring sensation I found in it. Besides, it made sex more pleasurable for Nathan, and that was really all that mattered.