by Johnny Stone
“No shit. Well you’re in luck then, because I worked on the C Model for enough years to know they’re a quirky piece of crap. You’re the one that piggybacked me down during the landing?”
“Yeah, and this is what I get for helping a person out. Why?”
“So let me guess, when you switched from star drive to atmospheric, the sync relay shorted out on you and the safety interlock took the star drive off line. Of course, that meant neither of your standard drive engines were working in tandem any longer, and that’s when the fun started.”
I managed to struggle into a sitting position, looking up at him with a confident smirk. If he was half as good or experienced as I was, he would have known the Model C Mitzakawa Drive was under powered for the Mule’s maximum cargo weight, let alone trying to piggyback another ship down through the atmosphere. I had his attention now, and decided it was time to move in for the kill.
“So there you are entering the atmosphere with an extra 200 tons on your belly, and you can’t abort your approach because the star drive took a shit. That left two options open to you.”
“Dump you, or try to operate each drive train manually with an un-calibrated weight to thrust ratio.” His pistol began to droop, and the edge in his voice was replaced with curiosity. “How did you know?”
I held my wrists out to him.
“How about you take these cuffs off and I’ll tell you?”
“How about you tell me, and I don’t blow your head off?”
“How about you go take a flying leap and fix it yourself?”
“Look here, sweet cheeks. First off, I’m the one calling the shots around here.” He was starting to get pissed, but it didn’t matter, he needed me, or I would have been dead already. “And secondly, I could have dumped you and that other ball of fluff, and let you pancake into the surface at a thousand miles an hour, but I didn’t. You owe me.”
“I don’t owe you jack-shit; you should have known better than to do something stupid like that. Why don’t we just cut through the crap? We both have something the other wants, I can fix your ship, and we both want off this rock. I say we come to some kind of an understanding for mutual necessity, because I’m sure as hell not going to do it at gunpoint.”
He took a step back lowering his pistol completely, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. It was a step in the right direction, for me at least. If this gullible dumb-ass really thought I’d let him live after this…
It might have been my imagination, but in the silence between us I swore the beam of his flashlight kept alternating its focus from my tits to between my legs. Men… Here we were talking about a life or death situation and he was checking me out. How predictable. If he was that much of a horn-dog, maybe a little peepshow might sweeten the deal and help him make up his mind.
I sat up straighter and pulled my feet in as best I could with the cuffs on, while in the process of spreading my knees in open invitation. Actually, because of the extra pressure in my now distended belly and awkward position, it really wasn’t an intentional move, it just happened on its own. Either way the result was the same, he was now getting an eyeful of sopping wet, pony puss. C’mon, take the bait. I know you want it.
“Who was the droid on your shuttle?”
His question took me by surprise, and not in a good way. That’s when wheels in my head started to turn. Given the circumstances, I can only think of a few reasons why he would have gone to the shuttle in the middle of the night, and none of them were good. This guy might be more dangerous than I’m giving him credit for.
“Someone that should have known better than to get on my bad side.”
“After what I saw in there, I’m really starting to wonder if you have anything but a bad side.”
The corner of my mouth curled in a seductively evil grin. “Oh I have one alright.”
My attempt at rolling over wasn’t nearly as graceful or arousing as I imagined it would be, but it worked. It wasn’t long before I had my ass in the air like a luscious heart for the taking, tail swishing back and forth, trying to look back at him over my shoulder.
“How’s this? I bet that’s the prettiest ass you’ve ever seen, isn’t it?”
I could almost see the lump in his pants, at least in my imagination, and when he finally knelt down behind me I thought I was going to get an impromptu fuck to help seal the deal of our budding partnership. When the latch on my ankle cuffs popped off with a muted beep and light click, I immediately spread my legs giving him the access he seemed to want. Hey, I’ll take it, and if it helps lull him in to a false sense of security, so much the better.
The sudden jerk on my neck when the restraint collar was activated, followed by a steady backward pull, made my leering grin all the more pronounced. This might be more fun than I’d first thought.
“Like it rough, do you? So do I, good and hard.”
“Stand up.”
The pull on my neck grew stronger, tipping me off balance. I had to scramble to keep from going over sideways, while trying to find my footing.
“Oww! Slow down, will you?”
The prick… He damn near broke my neck while ‘helping’ me to my feet, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from spouting off a triad of insults when I was finally standing in front of him, chest heaving with restrained rage. I still couldn’t see him very well, but he was tall and solidly built, and one more thing… I sniffed the air lightly in his direction, and a light growl formed in my throat.
“You’re a fucking droid.”
“Give the girl a cigar. What, you can smell that on me?”
“It’s what I can’t smell that gave you away.”
Using the leash baton to maneuver me in a different direction, he began pushing me in front of him though the darkness.
“I wish I could say the same, you reek.”
I stepped into a slight depression and stumbled forward, and was jerked back by my neck in the opposite direction at the same time.
“Hey, how about some light so I can see where the hell I’m going, or give me some slack in that thing. In case you didn’t know, there’s an auto-flex setting on it.”
The beam of light reappeared showing my path through the tall grass and uneven ground.
“Thanks, dick.”
“You have a really foul mouth on you.”
“Let’s just say I’m a product of my environment.”
We continued on in silence and it gave me some time to try to get my bearings, to figure out exactly how I was going to get myself out of this mess. Maybe I’d read him wrong, he didn’t jump at the easy chance of screwing me like I thought he would. To be honest, I was a little insulted by the fact, not to mention I could really use some rough, angry sex to help me get my bearings. Guess I’m going to have to try to put the anxious mare in me back in the stables for the time being and rethink my options.
I could only assume he was taking me to his ship, and at some point he was going to have to take the leash off and release my wrist cuffs, and when he did… Not that it would do me any good. The pieces started to fall into place, and I really didn’t like how they were coming together. He’s been overly cautious so far, and seemed to know his way around handling a slave. He’s armed, and for a droid, he had no apparent reservations against using violence. He has a freighter just like I used to, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he was a slaver. He might even be working for one of the Cartels, and if that’s the case, he’s got his shit wired tight. That also means he’s going to have the controls locked out so I can’t kill him until I get his access and security codes. Let’s just say I was starting to have some newfound respect for my captor. Damn, I might actually have to work with this guy to get off this rock.
***
Mark couldn’t take his eyes off her ass. It was hypnotic, the way its supple curves and firm buoyancy swayed back and forth in the warm glow of the light beneath her tail. Visions kept forming in his head, graphic teasers of what could be, and althoug
h he didn’t answer her question, she did in fact have the nicest ass he’d ever seen. It was perfect, too perfect, despite a light matting of snow-white fur. Something else he couldn’t shake, was the odd sense of familiarity he felt towards her, sometimes it was a look in her eyes, and other times the tone or inflection of her voice, but it had to be his mind playing tricks on him. The entire situation was quickly approaching the point of frustration because she was a complete enigma, he’d never met anyone, or thing, quite like her before. Animal-like augmentation for slaves, or for those so inclined to change their appearance had become a growing trend of late, but nothing to this extent.
“So what exactly are you?”
“Hmm?” She seemed distracted when answering, trying to look back over her shoulder in annoyance. “What’s it look like? I’m a Pony, and not just any Pony, but a queen.”
“Well, your Highness,” Mark scoffed. “It looks like your glorious rule has taken a drastic turn for the worst. That way.” He began pushing her to the left and she stumbled while changing course. “So you’re not human, then?”
“Hardly.”
“So where did you learn to fly?”
“Up yours.”
“And about slave restraints?”
“From your mother.”
Mark chuckled under his breath, she had a real attitude. Feisty, sexy, and dangerous at the same time, you couldn’t ask for a better combination in a woman, or whatever she was. Not to mention she seemed to be a highly competent pilot. Maybe if she wasn’t crazy…
“What the hell is ‘your’ name?” she asked, while trying to stop and turn. At first Mark thought better of it, wanting to keep control of the situation, but changed his mind when he got an ample eye-full of side-boob. Might as well change the scenery and take in the whole package for a few moments. And what a package she had.
Mark intentionally shined the light in her eyes, forcing her to bring her hands up to her face to shield them, exaggerating her already generous cleavage. He took a few moments to blatantly admire her figure, imagining it in some very creative positions, wondering just how wild the sex would actually be. It was also when he realized that she was pregnant. He’d seen her belly hanging low over the patch of curly white pubic hair between her legs while she was sitting down, but at the time he’d assumed that it was simply the result of her hunched posture.
Mark slowly dropped the light and the glimmer of the most vibrant pair of bright, blue eyes cautiously reappeared.
“You’re a real jackass, you know that?”
“Been called worse, and to answer your question, the name’s Mark, Captain of the Space Tramp.”
Her eyes grew wide, then narrowed skeptically. He would have sworn her cheeks noticeably paled, but it was difficult to say because of the hair spreading upwards from her neck, beginning to cover them.
“Something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No, nothing’s wrong,” she answered a little too hastily, behind an unreadable, blank expression.
“Since we’re playing twenty questions now, what’s your name? That other girl you came down with said it was Margo. Is that correct?”
“My name,” she said distinctly, “is Pony 18.”
“Pony 18… that’s not what she called you. And what kind of name is that, anyway?”
She lunged suddenly in attack, fighting ineffectually against the invisible leash holding her at a safe distance. Her angelic face had vanished at the blink of an eye, becoming a mask of resentful scorn, and spitefully, hissing speech.
“It’s the kind of name that’s given to a slave, you fucking back-stabbing thief!”
Mark couldn’t help but take a step back from her unexpected explosion of frenzied struggling and string of incoherent obscenities. It quickly became nothing more than high-pitched whinnies of fury that reminded him of a trapped animal. Mark really had no choice at this point but to shock her with the collar, despite her condition, in hopes of snapping her out of the boiling fit she’d turned into.
It was a rare instance when he hauled conscious cargo, and even rarer when he was forced to use the collar to keep one in line, so watching her drop to the ground in a screaming ball of pain came as somewhat of a repulsive shock. He didn’t leave it on very long, only a few seconds, just enough to get the point across. The way he saw it, it was really no different than hurting a defenseless person, or in her case, a defenseless animal. Neither boded well with him.
“You brought that on yourself, Pony. Settle the hell down and it won’t happen again.”
“When I get free,” she gasped, glaring up at him. “I’m going to rip your head off, and shit down your neck.”
“No you won’t, because then you’re stuck here until the next ship arrives and that could be a very long time. You need me as much as I need you, so like you said before, let’s just cut the crap and get down to the business at hand.”
In an act of faith or foolishness, Mark took a few steps back, releasing the lock setting on her wrist cuffs and turned off the leash. His finger hovered ready over the shock setting of the collar, while keeping the focus of his flash light just below her face.
“So are you ready to be civil about this, or do we need to go back to the way things were?”
Pony 18 slowly came to her feet, never once breaking eye contact. She kept her distance, but began pacing back and forth in a slow, steady tempo, as if contemplating her choices. She stopped suddenly cocking her head to the side, sniffing the wind, and her ears twitched.
“There’s water nearby. I’m thirsty and need to get cleaned up. Follow me and we’ll talk.”
Taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor, and slightly at a loss at the radical change of topics, Mark really couldn’t think of anything else to do except follow behind her at a safe distance.
They walked in silence for nearly a mile, and it gave Mark a chance to do some thinking of his own. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew Pony 18, but that was impossible, there’s no forgetting a woman like that. He hadn’t missed her initial reaction to hearing his name either. The look in her eyes had said it all, she knew him, or thought she did at least. There was nothing about tonight turning out the way he’d envisioned it.
The terrain gradually became rougher, while growing thick with native trees that glowed eerily in the darkness. Lost in thought, Mark was jerked back to reality by the sound of running water, it was more scenic in a roundabout way, but they weren’t far from his ship. He watched Pony 18 disappear among the heavy ground cover and descend a steep slope, followed by the sound of clattering rocks. In a moment of panic he thought he might lose her. Pony 18 seemed to be growing more confident in her movements, stealthy even, despite the absence of light. The thought that she had feigned night blindness earlier crossed his mind.
He quickly pushed his way through the vegetation in pursuit, and nearly went headfirst over the embankment before catching his fall on a nearby tree root, sliding the remaining ten feet down the slope on his ass. Annoyance and muttered curses faded under his breath when he stood and stared about at the tranquility of resonant moonbeams glittering off a gently flowing stream fed from a small pound. Pony 18 was at the apex of this waking dream, nimbly picking her way across the rocky bank where she knelt at the water’s edge, lowering her face to drink.
Mark’s gaze was glued to her shamelessly presented backside, now sticking high in the air, revealing so much more. Her raw, untamed nature was like a dream come true. Now if all women could be like this… It had to be his desire taking root, or simply wishful thinking, but it seemed as if her pouting slit glistened back at him as if she was already highly aroused, beckoning him closer.
When Pony 18 finally drank her fill, she stood with the grace of a ballerina, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“I couldn’t put my finger on it at first, but somehow I knew. You’ve changed a lot over the last year, Mark. A body, your own ship…. All in all, I’d say you’ve done pre
tty well for yourself. In other ways you haven’t changed in the least. You’re still a pervert.” Pony 18 strode slowly into the dark, obsidian cold water, sinking down to neck level. “So tell me whose dick you had to suck to keep the ship. Was it Quinn? You’re working as a slaver for him and his Cartel now, aren’t you? Somehow you always struck me as the type of slime that would come out on top in a shitty situation.”
“Who are you,” Mark asked so softly that it was more of a spoken thought than an actual question directed at her. He took a few tentative steps closer to the water’s edge, cautiously on guard. “There is no way you can know that. I’d remember you if we’d met.”
“Oh we’ve met,” Pony 18 laughed sarcastically, turning to face him while continuing to wash beneath the surface of the water. “And you’re not the only one whose changed for the better.”
“Enough playing around! Tell me who you are.”
Pony 18 stood suddenly and Mark’s hand drifted to his pistol. Her look of cold determination was carried forward under a leisurely gait, and the water cascading off her lithe physique gave her the appearance of a vengeful angel rising from the depths. Mark retreated before her but he couldn’t bring himself to use the collar on her again, let alone shoot her. He finally found his resolve and stood his ground, standing up straighter, puffing out his chest in a display of male bravado.
“That’s close enough, or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” She ignored his hollow threat, coming to a halt close enough that her hardened nipples grazed the front of his jacket. Her eyes fearlessly met his. “Kill me? Beat me? Sell me into slavery? Rape me,” she ended in a teasing sigh of scorn. “There’s nothing you can do to me that hasn’t been done before.”
Mark stood frozen while his mind raced. It was a rare instance that he felt the flicker of intimidation, but there was something about this horsewoman… Something in her unblinking stare and the heavenly tone of her voice that was as enthralling as it was unsettling. It was like standing at the edge of a bottomless pit, staring into a void of pleasurable death.
She moved closer, sliding along his body, moving behind him. Mark shivered and he grew hard when her wet hand touched his cheek in a lingering caress.