by Mark Andrews
Kim and I went back to New York of course. I married him there and I am glad to say my family and friends took to him the same as I had. He was welcomed by my parents although they weren’t all that pleased to hear we were going to live overseas. I explained this by saying I could no longer live permanently in New York, where Toby was (although, in truth, I was long over him) and they seemed to accept it. I said we would return often and I would keep my apartment there and that was that.
In the meantime, we shopped for furniture and furnishings for our house and then made arrangements to have it all shipped to the island where it would be landed by surf boat for there was no wharf
- on purpose.
When we returned to the island, Farouk asked us if we had thought of a major-domo to run our house and manage the slaves we would be acquiring. We had, but so far hadn’t come up with anyone for it had to be someone acceptable to the island community of course. You couldn’t just take people there.
“I have a young man in mind,” he said over lunch one day. He is Arab ...”
We nodded. In our experience, Arabs made very excellent slave handlers and demanded perfection. “Perfect,” we said, almost in unison.
He rang a small bell and Mahmud appeared. He was a handsome young man of about our age, slender and tall but with an air of authority about him that we found very appealing. He told us of his background and it seemed he was a cousin of Ali, Farouk’s, major domo and had trained under him for a similar role. We appointed him there and then.
“And slaves ... You will need at least three,” grinned Farouk. We stared back at him. “I suppose you’ve got them all sorted
out too?” I said sarcastically - but both Kim and I had broad grins on our faces.
“As a matter of fact, I have been down to the dealer and asked what was on offer. Maybe we could all go down there this afternoo ...”
We did, and picked out a couple to begin with. Mahmud immediately took them in charge and began to train them, even before the house was finished. They all camped in its precincts and the builder tolerated them there, even if they did get in the way at times.
The house was finished and the carpets, furniture and furnishings moved in and soon the house became our home and we were able to move out of Farouk’s house. We both expressed our deep appreciation to him for all he had done for us: taking us to the island in the first place, smoothing the way for us to become citizens there and to invest in and build our house there but his benefice was not yet over.
He really was - and is - a wonderful man and our best friend. When we walked over to the new house only a couple of hundred yards away from his, he was leading Amelia by her bridle and I wondered that he felt the need to bring her as the distance back to his house hardly required a lift ...
But then he presented her to us. “She’s yours, Judy and Kim
....” He twinkled at us as he handed me the rein. “She belongs with you. You are the one she hurt all that time ago and it is right and proper that she remain with you as long as you want her. When she’s old and ugly, sell her off as a hack to one of the farmers but for now, she’s yours to use as you wish ... By the way, though. Send Mahmud for her saddle. I’ve had it made to fit her shoulders and it’s therefore no use to me ...”
He paused and grinned at us again. “I don’t think you’ve tried her out as a saddle pony yet. Ali has been training her and she’s quite good now. She can gallop with the best of them and the exercise programme we’ve continued with her has kept her as strong as she ever was. I take her for gallops around the coast road and she can get right around it in less than two hours now - and I think that’s a record ...”
We protested that he had done too much for us already but I knew in my heart that I wanted her. He told us sternly not to look a gift horse in the mouth. A slightly off epithet but I knew what he meant and we took the reins from him while Amelia stared at me in resignation.
So she, the girl who had stolen my man was now my slave, or rather our slave for Kim was my partner in everything. I was grateful to her actually for if she hadn’t stolen Toby, I would never have met Mary and Barbara, or gone to their camp to watch as Amelia was turned into a neutered muscle slave bulging with muscle. Nor would I have met Kim, the man I knew far and away surpassed anything I had ever felt for Toby.
And now the pair of us have a beautiful new house staffed with slaves - and above all we have Amelia as our house pony.
“Come, Kim,” I said, “let’s take her for a spin ...”
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