Slave World

by Johnny Stone

  He led me silently to the fitter to turn in my gear for cleaning, and his brooding demeanor continued to grow darker, with a very unexpected result.

  “Hello, Mr. Burke, how’s the training going with the new pony?”

  “Fine, Connell, just fine.”

  “Mr. Savota came by several hours ago looking for you and pony 18.” Nathan tensed, just enough that the very observant might have noticed. “I guess he wanted to check on her progress. He seemed very excited about surprising Mrs. Savota with her tomorrow night. Have you heard how much-” Nathan’s nostrils flared, and an animalistic growl crept from his lips.

  “Don’t kid yourself, Connell, that asshole could care less about Donna, and all he’s looking forward to is getting a chance to break in his new toy in front of all of his friends at the party.”

  Connell blanched as he removed the last of my gear, and I went suddenly cold with the impending truth of my fate being so blatantly voiced for the first time. Oh god no, please no. All I wanted was Nathan, just one man for a change; is that so much to ask for?

  “Nathan, you need to be careful, what are you trying to do, get fired?”

  “Fuck, Michael!” Nathan boomed, startling everyone within earshot from here to the jungle. “I’d like to see him try and get rid of me. There aren’t enough swinging dicks on this entire fucking planet-”

  “Nathan, have you gone mad?” Connell took a step back, visibly shaken under a rain of ire.

  “Sir,” I hastily, yet strategically interrupted. Nathan reminded me of a boiling kettle about to explode, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to see what would happen if he did. “I was wondering if you could lead me to the bath area, I ah…can’t remember which way it is from here?” His eyes dimmed with waning fire. He knew exactly why I’d spoken up.

  “Yeah, I can do that,” he panted, wide-eyed and hunting.

  I strolled cautiously down the hall behind Nathan; his fists still balled, visibly trembling. His anger continued to simmer below the surface with visceral insanity, and it momentarily shocked the hell out of me. Then again, maybe it didn’t. Looks like Nathan brought back a few demons of his own from that crappy war.

  In the past our condition had been called battle fatigue, shell shock, or in more modern times Post-traumatic Stress, but those of us that experience it first hand, called it redlining. A good chain of command could spot its onset in a heartbeat, and acted accordingly by pulling the individual out of the meatgrinder before it reached the point of no return. Other time’s duty wouldn’t allow it, and the poison continued to spread and fester, unseen and reluctantly ignored until a person plummeted into the abyss forever.

  This wasn’t the first time I’d seen people snap like that, even years after the invisible wounds of the mind had supposedly healed. It could be from something as simple as the incessant tapping of a fingernail on a table, or the annoying sound of someone chewing with their mouth open, that would ignite the slow-burning fuse for people like Nathan and myself. We all had a trigger, a breaking point that only the unconscious mind was in touch with, especially a vet. By the looks of it, the Master was Nathan’s source of angst for some reason, and now the possession of not only my body, but also my soul, was about to become a new and inflammatory factor in the ongoing conflict between them.

  The war hadn’t been easy for me, but I dealt with it as best I could, and in my own way. I still had my nightmares, but at least I could say they were relatively sterile and clean compared to someone like Nathan. I saw death from a distance, for the most part that is. My friends just never came back, that’s all. I might see their assault boat go up in a fireball, the wreckage scattered about the landscape like obscene confetti, or maybe it was their fighter dying in the silent death of vacuum space, where life ceased in a fraction of the time it was created in. I couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like for Nathan though, dirt-side day in and day out, for months on end. It didn’t matter what planet you were on, the result was always the same. You fought and killed the enemy, or died in the process until some nebulous objective dictated by Fleet command had finally been achieved. No, a person was never the same after an experience like that.

  I wanted to reach out to the man I cared for more than I was willing to admit, to hold him and drive those lingering memories away if at all possible. I felt my own white-hot anger brewing now; I couldn’t even do that much for him, and it was killing me.

  I nearly ran into Nathan’s back in my fuming stupor when we rounded the corner entering the bath area. The warm and slightly humid air rang with delicate chatter; the place was packed with show ponies conjugating for a night of relaxation and pampering. Three of the four whirlpool baths held between two and four ponies each, while two ponies, I think their names were DeeDee and Starlla, were getting a manicure and pedicure by the stable staff. Another girl, a flaming redhead whose name I couldn’t remember but looked familiar, was getting a massage like I’d received last night.

  There was a mad dash of prompt obedience when they saw Nathan standing silently in the doorway. In no time at all a covey of smiling faces, jiggling boobs and dripping bodies stood roughly at attention in a long single file row in front of him. It was almost like they were excited to see him. The singsong sensuality of harmonious voices rang out in perfect unison.

  “Good evening, Sir!”

  “Good evening, ponies. For those of you that haven’t had to the chance to introduce yourselves yet, this is… this is pony 18. She’s to be Mistress Savota’s new riding mare.” Nathan’s anger seemed to have subsided, replaced by strict professionalism. For a second I thought he was going to slip and call me by my name though. “Despite her duty assignment, she’s one of you now with all the privileges of a show pony. She’s had a rough time of it the last few days so make her feel welcome. I’ve noticed a few of you have already made an effort to do so. Are there any questions?”

  “No, Sir!”

  “Relax, enjoy yourself tonight, 18, because it’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

  Nathan and I drew apart, giving one another a silent and knowing goodbye. Unfortunately, the meaning behind ‘a long day tomorrow’ was crystal clear in my mind’s eye. I didn’t even want to think about the inevitable, and what I’d be doing for a man who had the undeniable power of my sexual appetite in the palm of his hand. Isn’t there anything you can do, Nathan? Please?

  “Goodnight, ponies.”

  “Goodnight, Sir!”

  I was engulfed in an exuberant sea of giggling flesh before Nathan even made it out the door. Oh jeez, give me a break, will ya, girls? I’m not exactly in the mood for a friggin tea party at the moment.

  Crystal, my shorter carbon copy with her slightly narrowed eyes of East Indian descent, stood out among the bunch. She took my hand, pulling me free of the suffocating press to the nearest whirlpool.

  “Come on, 18, I know just what will help you relax.”

  I slipped into the bubbling water up to my shoulders on a submerged seat. Crystal nestled into place behind me until her tender thighs touched my hips, and her slender legs molded alongside mine. Her position was slightly elevated, and every so often, the tickling caress of her nipples grazed my back. “I’ll do your hair, how does that sound?”

  “Sure, I guess that would be all right.” Thanks for leaving me in the middle of a pussy buffet, Nathan, I thought sarcastically. Appreciate it. How could he know I was Bi though? Roxy and Clover followed us in, all smiles. I gave Crystal a silent ‘thank you’ when she shooed away two others with pouting faces that tried to squeeze their way in with us. I know they were only curious, but being center stage had never been my thing.

  I closed my eyes going limp. It wasn’t hard for me to become lost in Crystal’s attention, as she began washing my hair with rich smelling, fruity shampoo. It felt wonderful actually, and her touch occasionally sent spurts of tingly deliciousness racing through me. It took me a moment to realize that Roxy and Clover had scooted close
r, washing my body with fluffy sponge brushes.

  “Mmmm, that feels good. You girls definitely have the touch.”

  Their soothing touches were sensual, not sexual, but to me there really wasn’t much of a difference. The slick soapy water only made their hands glide all the easier about my rudely awakening flesh. This would be fun if Nathan were here. Four hot babes and a sexy hunk of man like Nathan in a hot tub together? My thoughts began to swim with the endless possibilities.

  “So where are you from, 18? I was born here.” I squinted at Roxy through slits, trying to keep the soap out of my eyes. She had to be the most exotic pony among us, in my opinion. Midnight black hair, pale green eyes that shone brightly with lurid desire, and an elegantly tall and tanned body unlike most of us. Even her voice was deeper, nearly husky and dripping with the precursor of untold pleasures.

  “Me too,” Clover, the mocha-haired palomino chimed in anxiously, and a bit too enthusiastically. She was a bubbly young thing that bordered on pestering annoyance from what I’d seen so far. “Most of us were born here. Crystal wasn’t though, were you, Crystal?” This actually caught my attention, and I tried to look back over my shoulder at her.

  “No, I was… I don’t remember where I was born. I was brought here when I was just a little girl.” Crystal’s hands slowed on my scalp, searching for neglected memories. “Sometimes, I still have dreams. I remember I had a puppy once, a real one, not like the Master owns.” I did manage to turn enough to see a distant emptiness in her eyes before it faded with a tinkling chuckle, and she went back to washing my hair with forced forgetfulness. “It doesn’t matter, I’m a pony now. The both of you know we’re not supposed to talk about things like that. You don’t want to be put in the punishment harness, do you?” Crystal ended darkly.

  Their mood grew instantly somber, hinted with fear, while I wondered exactly what the punishment harness was. It must be horrible if just the name alone could fill my companions with brooding dread.

  Crystal was nearly finished rinsing my hair, with Roxy washing my tail, when Clover finally broke the gloomy silence. “So what’s it like, 18?”

  “What’s what like?”

  “Having the Overseer ride you? I mean, it must be fun, right? None of us could do it, not even one of the draft ponies. Maybe Cirus could, but…”

  I shrugged, hiding my emotions with a mask of impartial boredom, at just the mention of his name. “I guess so, why?”

  “What do you mean why,” Roxy purred. “Only because he’s the real stallion around here. Just thinking about being rode by him…” She neighed sensually, convulsing in a shiver of excitement like I’d done earlier in the corridor.

  “Me too,” Clover yelped, whinnying with just as much enthusiasm. “Can you just imagine what it would be like to breed with him? I’d even give up time with Cirus for that.”

  “I bet it would be so much nicer than with,” Crystal paused as if hesitant to continue in even a whisper, “than with the Master. I bet the Overseer would be gentle and nice, and…”

  I frowned, growing oddly defensive as their flighty chatter continued. I could only assume breeding meant having sex, and right now I was surrounded by three very beautiful ponies, each one openly fantasizing about Nathan in their own way. My eyes started to smolder and my jaw grew tight. These three little harlots were lusting after my… What was Nathan? I couldn’t say he was my boyfriend, not even close. I’m a slave, nothing more. So what was I to him then?

  “Is something wrong, 18?” It was Clover. They had all grown quite and were watching me.

  “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You just look angry-”

  “All right you prissy bitches, front and center!” We were all startled by the barked command from the woman in the doorway. Behind her stood one of the faceless, yet ever present guards that roamed about the stables.

  Crystal nearly kicked me in the back in her haste to get out of the tub. Roxy and Clover weren’t much better, dousing me in a tide of water and frantic splashing. It was the same haste as with Nathan, but with a dreadful tension behind it. I took my place in line, squeezing in beside Crystal, wiping the water out of my eyes. Whoever this woman was, I didn’t like her already.

  She wore glossy knee-high boots and form-fitting khaki pants. Her white, short-sleeve blouse was unbuttoned to mid chest, tucked in tight around her narrow waist. She wasn’t wearing a bra beneath it. The woman was extremely tall, over six feet, and her curvy figure set beneath a bedroom quaff of long, mousy brown hair, now dominated the room. In one hand she held a riding crop, and in the other a stun baton. She was drop-dead gorgeous, but her glaring smirk of contemptuous superiority made her look hideously vile in a way. She took an exaggerated breath, exhaling loudly with a feral smile.

  “There’s nothing like the smell of wet slut, is there ponies?”

  “No, Ma’am!” They replied in unison again, yet with considerably less enthusiasm as with Nathan.

  She lifted the chin of a pony two down from me with her crop. “And there’s plenty of that to go around in here, isn’t that right, Penny?”

  “Yes, Ma’am!”

  Psycho bitch stopped in front of me, and I became the center of her arrogant leer. “Well what have we here?” She pushed Crystal and the pony to my right none too gently out of the way, making a slow cursory circle around me. “So this is the new slut that everyone’s been so talkative about lately?” I stared straight ahead at nothing, cringing when her fingertips trailed across my back. “You are a hot piece of ass; I can see why Burke’s been keeping you to himself.” She stopped in front of me again, and I did my best to look through her. “Do you know who I am, slave?”

  “No, Ma’am.” My voice came out in a half-hearted squeak.

  “I’m Miss Torri, the Assistant Overseer for all you spoiled little bitches, and every other fucking pony piece of shit in these stables.” I would say this woman definitely had a screw loose someplace, that is, if I were in any position to judge one of my betters. “And since Burke has finally decided to leave for the night, I think it’s about time you’re properly initiated into your new surroundings. Hygiene inspection!”

  Her crop slapped the side of her boot and all the ponies jumped to obey, bending over in a jostle of momentary confusion, spreading their feet wide and inviting to Miss Torri. I quickly followed their example.

  “Oh yeah, now that’s what I like to see,” Torri snorted in grim sarcasm. “There’s nothing like a clam-dive lineup, is there, Roger?”

  “No, Ma’am,” the guard behind her replied evilly.

  Torri began a leisurely stroll down the row of upturned asses, giving an unlucky few a swat with the palm of her hand that resonated through the deathly quiet. “And who shall my inspector be tonight, hmm?”

  She spun in place, coming back in my direction. I didn’t know what a hygiene inspector’s job was, but based on my current position, it couldn’t be good. A pair of glossy black boots paused behind me, followed by another crack of her hand. She slapped my ass so hard I flinched, biting my lip to keep quiet. The boots continued their slow journey down the line.

  “You!” Torri’s snarling outburst made most of us jump. She was pointing her crop at a bob-cut brunette with silver highlights. “Stephanie, fall out and take your place at the end of the line.”

  “Yes, Miss Torri!”

  I could barely see Stephanie hurriedly taking her place behind the first girl, going to her knees. You’ve got to be kidding me. With the aid of Torri’s hand, Stephanie’s face was shoved between the presented cheeks of the first pony.

  “So tell me, what do you smell?” Torri asked haughtily, with the knowing ridicule of a sick game that had been played out on numerous occasions in the past.

  “A dirty pony slut, Miss Torri,” she mumbled between creamy flesh.

  “Gee, what a fucking surprise,” Torri snorted. “And the next one?”

  Down
the line Stephanie went as if seconds away from tears, prompted by Torri’s boot, as she slid along on her knees. The answer was always the same.

  It was my turn next. This is just so wrong, in so many ways. Stephanie’s face was pushed between my cheeks, nose buried in my cunt. I held my breath, praying for the indignity to end.

  “And what about our newest arrival?” The pressure between my cheeks eased.

  “She’s a dirty pony slut too, Miss Torri,” Stephanie whispered.

  “As I knew she was, but you better make sure with this one. Taste her.” I shivered when Stephanie’s slick tongue timidly pushed between my lips, traveling the length of my slit.

  “She’s a slut, Miss Torri, I’m sure,” Stephanie croaked out.

  “Hmmm,” Miss Torri pondered. “I’m still not convinced.”

  She pushed Stephanie out of the way, and slipped her right index finger inside me as deep as it would go. Despite my undignified position, and forced capitulation to her sadistic pleasure, I felt myself growing strangely wetter as her finger massaged the smooth interior of my cunt with skilled enthusiasm. My eyelids began to flutter in time with a panting rasp of heavy breathing.

  Miss Torri reluctantly eased her finger out of me, and I heard the delicate sound of her slurping it clean. “Oh yes, this one is a slut all right. I’d know the taste anywhere.” She gave a stiff pull on my hair, yanking my head back, as the chill of her crop explored the inside of my thigh with agonizing deliberateness. “I’ve got my eye on you, 18,” she breathed heavily in my ear, before releasing my hair.

  I fought to come down off my forced episode of horny indignity, as Miss Torri and Stephanie moved to the next pony. As much as I hated to admit it, the way she’d treated me had an alluring, if not strangely erotic pull to it. It was a shameful feeling actually, because in a way, I wanted to experience more of it.

  The hygiene inspection continued, and at one point Stephanie’s whimpering became the hiccup gulping of full-fledged tears. Torri slapped the back of her head so hard, that it made her hair fly outward in a tizzy.