From that point forward, I was a pony. I didn’t go back to the onion fields. When my trainer wasn’t around, another was.
I ate oatmeal from a wooden trough in the morning, and some kind of stew in the evening. I was fed small bites of apples from the other trainers when they were pleased, but never from my trainer.
I performed well in races from the beginning. However, on the evening of the fourth day I had a horrible start and came in second to last place. My trainer was clearly unhappy with me. I was taken to the carnival area, leaned over a bale of hay, and everything from my neck up was removed — bit gag, posture collar, and headpiece. They put something like a Jennings gag in, only it forced my mouth open with magic instead of steel. A rope was connected between my ponytail and chastity belt, and then tightened so I couldn’t lower my head or look to the side.
And then people paid to either fuck my throat or paddle my ass. There were two lines — one at the front and one at the back.
I don’t know how long I was there, but it was hell. An hour? Two hours? Three? It felt like ten, but they removed me before nightfall.
I didn’t get dinner, though. I also didn’t get my evening enema with the other horses. I was taken to one of the corrals, and more than a dozen stable hands fucked my throat while the magic still forced my mouth open.
From what I gathered by listening to them, the magic that holds the slave’s mouth open feels exactly like what the person doing the fucking most likes — tight ass, wet pussy, a little bit of teeth, whatever. I also picked up during this that the people who’d bet on me to win had been given first dibs to pay to paddle me. I guess that explained why some of them seemed so angry with me.
I was pretty sure the other ponies were all in their stalls, and I was the only one still out. When they’d all taken as many turns fucking my face as they wanted, the men took my chastity belt off and gave me my enema. They filled me so damned full I looked a little pregnant, and the water was so soapy it looked like milk.
The stablemaster put his face a few inches from mine. “Hold it. Don’t shit it out. No Shit.”
Ponies are only given short commands. However, from the conversation I heard from the men talking to each other, if I could hold it fifteen minutes then I’d get to sleep on a cot. If I didn’t, I’d be bound to the wall and would have to try to sleep in a standing position. Either way, it sounded like I was only going to get around two hours of sleep.
My trainer latched the end of a rope to my posture collar, and then put the other end on a pole in the center of the corral. “Walk. High step, slow motion.”
I started walking and he popped my ass with the tip of a whip. “Slow.”
It took a few corrections before I understood he’d been literal when he said slow motion. I had to lift my foot, partially straighten the knee, and then put the foot down well in front of the other one in fucking slow motion.
The men started placing bets, and again, I listened to their conversation and understood that I was starting out with one hundred and fifty lashes. Every minute I could hold out was ten less strikes of the bullwhip, given by the stable master. Other people arrived and also placed bets.
These coarse, uncouth people bet on me like I was an animal, complete with the way they analyzed my posture and temperament. As if I couldn’t understand them.
There were probably fifty men and women watching by this time, which means when I finally released, I’d have to crap myself in front of an audience. Not a huge audience, but still.
There’s really no sense telling everything that happened the rest of my days at the stables, because this night broke me. They’d taken the magical device from my mouth, so I was free to talk, and when I hadn’t been able to hold the enema in any longer, I’d screamed and cussed and called the stablehands every name I could think of while I shit myself. I screamed that they weren’t any better than me, and I combined insults in ways that had to come from the dragon because I’d have never thought of them before. I also insulted their intelligence in ways that still make me ashamed to remember.
I wasn’t fed for two days. I wasn’t allowed to sleep for two days. I got way more than one hundred and fifty lashes. They let other slaves fuck my throat. I was even taken to the onion fields where I’d worked. The slaves who filled their baskets within a certain time limit were allowed to fuck my throat. Unless it was a woman, in which case I was forced to perform oral sex on her.
When they broke for lunch, I was taken to a construction site where I delivered water to the workers through two of their ten-hour shifts. If the construction workers wanted to fuck my throat and they were ahead enough on their quota, they could. I had to go to my knees and open my mouth for anyone who told me to — freeperson or slave.
I was given a one-minute break at the top of every hour, and I was given a bottle of water to drink. Unfortunately for me, the construction workers found it entertaining to try to get me to puke the water back up. Not all of them could, but the ones with really long cocks had no trouble gagging me until I puked.
I was moved between the onion fields and two constructions sites for three days. Looking back, I’m pretty sure the guards and the construction workers had likely been given the promise of a large bonus if they could rile my temper, because it seemed they were all trying pretty fucking hard to piss me off.
But common sense told me I didn’t want to know what the next step in consequences would be if I lost my temper again.
Later, I’d find out I was in Faerie nineteen days total. The three days of hell after my verbal diarrhea hadn’t counted. My week started again when I was returned to the stable, and when it was finished, someone decided they needed another four days on the end, just to be sure I was in control of my temper.
Honestly, I think adding days onto the end when I thought I was about to be released was another attempt to piss me off enough to lose it. I was taken into the stable master’s office and stripped of everything. Even my collar, chastity belt, and number-tag.
“The Dragon King and Dark Queen want my assurance your temper is under control, but I don’t feel comfortable putting my reputation on the line for a pathetic little stupid swan.”
By then, they’d tried so many times to get me to lose my temper again, and I’d had to bite my tongue so many times, I managed to look at his feet and keep from reacting. Ponies don’t speak.
Which is why, in retrospect, I think they needed four more days. I was assigned to a restaurant, where I waited tables. I was required to call everyone sir and ma’am, and I had to be polite no matter what they said to me. Being silent and holding your temper is a whole lot easier than having to speak and be nice and hold your temper. I worked a restaurant during the day and was moved to a bar near the ocean to work at night. I got three hours sleep a night, from three until six, and I worked the other twenty-one. I was given a few short breaks to eat, but I wasn’t fed enough.
My ‘uniform’ at both places was a mesh miniskirt over the chastity belt, and I was topless. The patrons were free to pull me down over their lap and spank me with their hand. They were free to grab, pinch, and twist my nipples. I wasn’t allowed to stop them or block them.
The house rules were that they couldn’t hold me up longer than twenty seconds at a time, but many of them held me up twice that, sometimes a full minute or two. We were told one of the bouncers would intervene if a patron was out of line, but some of the bouncers seemed to enjoy watching the patrons abuse us.
We were never to stop a customer from touching us. Since I was the only waitress in a chastity belt, I became a favorite to harass. The other wait staff could be fingered and fondled anywhere, and I was the anomaly. It made me more of a target, and it meant I was spanked a lot more.
And I had to hold my temper.
When I woke on the nineteenth day, I thanked the slave manager for my stale bread and water. It only took a few moments to down both, and I went to work serving breakfast. I was supposed to have my freedom on this day. I
’d expected to awaken and be released, but I’d learned enough to know better than to demand it. Towards the end of lunch, Aaron came in with some other men, and he sat in my station.
“What can I get you, Sirs?”
One of the men with him grabbed and twisted my nipple. I looked at the table a second, and then smiled at him. “We have a wide assortment of beer and whiskey, kind Sirs. The special of the day is roast mutton. It smells wonderful in the kitchen.”
Aaron made a motion with his hand, and the man let go of my nipple.
“What have you learned?” Aaron asked me.
“I’m not that special, my King. Dragons are smarter than most everyone around us, but that doesn’t make us better than them. It also doesn’t mean I can just spout off at the mouth when someone angers me. I must hold my tongue and think of strategy before I speak.”
He leaned back, and the teleporting castle guard appeared before me.
“He’s going to take you to a mountain,” Aaron told me. “Shift to dragon when you get there. Don’t return to human until you see me or the guard in two or three days. Enjoy your time as a dragon. Fly. Relax in the sun. Swim in the river and lake. Eat whatever you want, and as much as you want, but eat what you kill. Value the life you consume. Also, stay in that valley until given instructions otherwise. It’s well delineated.”
“I will, Your Majesty. Thank you.” We aren’t supposed to obligate ourselves to others in Faerie. I felt the land record the debt, but I didn’t care. It had to be said.
He gave me a sad smile. “Why are you thanking me?”
“I deserved to be punished for what I did to Dementor. Probably not as much as I got, but that’s okay, because I understand it was necessary for me to learn the lesson. If you hadn’t made sure the lesson stuck, I would’ve probably hurt someone else. Or maybe D again, and if I haven’t lost him already, I know doing it again will push him away.”
“You’re welcome. Sophia doesn’t know the specific details of your consequences and I’d appreciate it if she doesn’t find out. She’ll know you harvested onions, you spent some time in the stables, and waitressed tables.”
“What will D know?”
“What do you want him to know?”
“Everything. No secrets. Can you tell him?”
He sighed. “I can arrange for him to see your two weeks in fast motion. Queen Mab recorded it so I could watch bits and pieces at my convenience.”
“You are kind to offer, my King.” That was as close as I could get to thanking him without saying it.
He nodded to the castle guard, I breathed in and held it, and then I was on a lush, green mountaintop, near the edge of a cliff, looking down on the greenest valley imaginable. Paradise.
And then my power returned to me all at once, and I burst into my dragon form.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dementor
I assumed I’d see Ember when I went to Faerie with Aaron, but he took me to The Dark Queen’s castle, to a room with a medieval conference table holding a large crystal bowl of water.
He waved his arm over the bowl and told me, “It will start when I leave. You’ll see her entire nineteen days in a little over four hours. She’s currently in dragon form, thinking and meditating. She’s grateful for the lessons learned. She went through hell for nearly three weeks, but better that than hell for three centuries while she pushed everyone away with her temper. Or worse, accidently killed someone she loves.”
He left without saying goodbye, and I focused on what the bowl could show me.
I experienced every negative emotion possible while I watched. I wanted to cry, at times, but I didn’t dare let my eyes get watery. The most important parts, I saw in probably double time, while much of it was likely a hundred times the speed of life. Some likely a lot faster — the monotony of slave life showed up even when viewed in fast forward.
If Aaron had come to me when I finished, there’s a good chance I’d have cold cocked him. Or, I’d have tried. However, it was Queen Mab who entered the room when the crystal stopped showing the movie and the lights came back on.
“You love her.”
“I do, Your Majesty.”
“You fell in love with the swan. Only time will tell if you can love the dragon, but your response to watching the movie tells me you don’t understand her.”
“Your Majesty, what do I not understand?”
“Imagine a mama bear’s reaction when her two year old bear cub throws a glass across the room in a temper. Now imagine the same mama bear reacting to her sixteen year old son throwing the glass across the room and shattering it — and not just that, but it narrowly misses a child’s head.”
“An older teenage bear without control can’t be allowed out in society. Both must be reprimanded, but the lesson is completely different.”
“Dragons are taught control from an early age, while even powerful swans can be coddled and spoiled without much worry. With great power must come great control. Ember’s a dragon now, and she had to learn control. Yes, the lesson was harsh, but it wasn’t terribly long, and it took. If Aaron hadn’t stepped in and she’d given herself away around humans, the Concilio would’ve imprisoned her for a minimum of ninety-nine years, and they’d have sold her off as an actual slave to the highest bidder for her time served. If she’d burned someone with dragon-fire in a fit of temper in my realm, she’d have found herself a prisoner in my dungeons, and she’d have been the lowest of the sex slaves instead of a favored princess being taught a lesson. She wouldn’t have had the luxury of a chastity belt.”
The Dark Queen took a seat and motioned for me to sit back down. “If word had gotten out about her hurting you, she’d have had to go before the Concilio. It would’ve been her first strike, but her consequences would’ve been completely out of Aaron’s hands. A few days or a few months, and a wide variety of ways to teach her a lesson — many much worse than what she lived through. Aaron’s actions have nullified it, so she’s in the clear.”
“I wouldn’t have told, Your Majesty.”
“No, but the Concilio is watching the new dragons and it’s possible they know. No one knows how, but they frequently know things when there’s no way for them to.”
She was right, of course.
“You’re here to keep me from being pissed at Aaron?” I almost forgot, and added a quick, “Your Majesty” on the end.
“Ember asked that he tell you what she’d been through. She doesn’t wish to talk about it. Dragons can easily recover from a few weeks of hell. She isn’t going to have a ton of baggage based on her time here. I believe you’ll also find that the issues she had from her time with the Owl King will have also resolved. She’s going to return to you in better mental health, not worse.”
Tension I hadn’t realized I was holding left my body.
“I appreciate that, Your Majesty. I was most worried about her mental state.” I’d come dangerously close to thanking her, but had remembered not to.
“My castle guard will take you to her. I believe her flying skills have improved enough it’s safe to ride her. Have her follow the river upstream until you come to a castle. The guards at the gate will be expecting the two of you.” She waved her hand and a small backpack appeared. “A change of clothes for her. She won’t need them until you arrive at the castle. You’ll be fed there and then taken to a portal that will get you back home.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ember
Two days as a dragon changed everything. All the sleep and food I wanted, and I could fly and soar and glide to my heart’s content. I ate elk, deer, and some sheep. I learned how to fly a loop-de-loop. I had a few rough landings, but I kept at it until I could land soft enough I wouldn’t worry about jarring a rider.
Assuming Dementor could ever trust me enough to ride me. Or to look at me.
I was airborne when I sensed another being. Two beings. I flew to the cliff and saw two human forms. As I neared, I realized it was the teleporting castle
guard and Dementor. I landed, shifted, and ran to D without slowing. He caught me, I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, and he held me in his embrace.
I was afraid to break the spell by talking, but I didn’t have to because he spoke first.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you.”
“There’s so much I need to say, and I’ll say it in Faerie if you want me to, but most of it should wait until we’re home.” Because I needed to spend the next month apologizing. Maybe longer.
The guard disappeared, and D held me tighter. “It can wait. No rush, but when we’re ready to go, we’re to follow the river upstream until we come to a castle. I have clothes for you, compliments of The Dark Queen. The guard unit at the gate will be expecting us, and someone will get us to a portal so we can go home.”
“I can fly ever-so-much better now.”
“I trust you, Ember.”
And just like that, my heart hurt. “I would understand if you didn’t.”
“Aaron says you asked him to show me what they put you through.”
“You saw?” The old Ember would’ve looked at the ground in mortification, but the dragon-shifter Ember met his gaze with dignity. We’d learned our lesson and had no reason to be ashamed.
“I did. He assures me your temper is under control.”
“Yeah. I don’t expect you to believe me just because I say it, though. I hope I can earn your trust.” He’d have to see it for himself in the coming weeks and months — no way would I hurt someone in anger again.
I straightened my legs and relaxed my arms. He let me slide to the ground and I told him, “Stay put.”
Dementor (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 1) Page 26