2043
by Bill Dee
Copyright © 2005
- do not use without the author's permission.
The year is 2043, and women out-number men by more than four-to-one. In 2035 it was decreed that men, if they wished and could afford too, marry two women and keep another as a slave or marry one and keep two slaves. Also, pollution was at an all-time high and petroleum driven vehicles were outlawed in the cities.
To solve this problem of transportation, most men used the law to suit their own needs. Generally, men would marry one woman and keep two slaves as ponygirls.
The auction houses were kept very busy. Every day at least two to three dozen young women were bought and sold. To be brought to an auction house each girl had to sign a contract stating that she was there of her own free will and was in no way attached. There was one other way that she could be put up for auction, that she broke the law. Depending on the severity of the crime, excluding the act of murder, their sentences could range from one to twenty-five years. They could serve their sentence or be sold at auction for the term of the sentence.
Buying a free-willed slave was very expensive; the price started at fifty thousand and could go as high as two-hundred thousand. Sentenced slaves opening bids were set at the price of their fines, some went for as low as five-hundred dollars, some into the thousands.
So was the case of Marge. She was a single girl of twenty-two, very pretty, but poor and out of work. She had been caught shoplifting food and sentenced to five years in prison. She stood in court dumbfounded, five years for stealing twenty dollars worth of food.
“What will it be young lady,” asked the judge, “Five-thousand dollar fine and five years in jail, or the auction block?”
Marge just stood there openmouthed. She finally stammered out, “Auction block.” She figured she would be bought by some man and used as a sex slave. At least she would be fed and have a roof over her head.
“So be it,” stated the judge as he rapped his gavel, “Five years as slave, minimum bid five thousand. Take her away. Next case.”
Before she could be taken away a very elegant looking gentleman spoke up, “May I approach the bench?” The judge motioned for him to approach. “Your honor I am willing to pay double her fine and also, if you are so inclined, up her indenture to indefinite.”
This was not a common occurance but also not unheard of. This practice insured the coffers of the court were kept healthy and full, but it also let the buyer extend the indenture for any infraction that he saw fit to impose.
Marge did not hear this exchange; she was still in denial of all that had happened so far.
The judge looked up from his bench. “Very well SirJeff, so be it. Matron, take her away.”
SirJeff then handed the matron a note.
Marge was led into a holding cell and was prepared for what she thought was the auction block. She was stripped of all clothing, led into a shower and washed. She was not allowed to touch herself; the matron locked her wrists to an overhead chain and, using a stiff bristle brush and cold water, scrubbed her down. Her skin glowed a bright crimson red. She was shaved from her neck to her toes, paying particular attention to her nether region which was now totally hairless and could be seen by all. A depilatory cream was applied, let set for twenty minutes and then wiped off.
“You will return here every two weeks for another depilatory treatment for six months. By that time the treatment will have done its job,” she laughed. “Your pussy will be nice and clean, this cream kills all hair follicles, and no hair will ever grow back.”
The Matron placed a thick leather collar around Marge’s neck and locked it on. She was put into a combination, thick, leather corset/harness that went from her hips to just below her breasts. It had five, one-inch straps that encircled her torso, secured in back and locked. When cinched tight, her waist went from her normal twenty-four-inches to twenty-inches. She could hardly breathe but it also enhanced her hips and made her 36-inch ‘C’ cup breasts stand out, predominantly.
Her arms were placed behind her back, inserted into a leather glove that extended to her upper arms, and laced tight, forcing her elbows to touch. Straps from the glove went over the shoulders, crossed in front, brought back, buckled to the glove and locked. There was no way she, or anyone else, was going to remove the collar, corset/harness or glove without the key.
“Let’s see, it says here that you were sold as pony stock, nipples pierced and ringed, pussy and clit pierced, ringed and locked, along with your nose pierced and ringed also. Oh my, it says here that your head is to be shaved, with a two-inch strip left in the center as a mane. That means that the sides will also receive the depilatory treatment.”
Marge couldn’t believe what she was hearing, this couldn’t be happening, she only stole some food, not rob a bank at gun-point.
The matron led Marge over to a long narrow metal table and using rings mounted to its sides, secured her on it, face up. She placed straps across Marge’s upper chest, one above and one below the breasts, and one across her forehead strapping her head tight to the bench. A set of clips that was mounted to the side of the bench were clipped to the rings attached to her corset. Her legs were brought up, even with the cheeks of her ass, and also strapped to the sides of the bench. Next her knees were spread wide and secured. In this position she was now fully exposed and open. The Matron then wheeled a cart over to the bench and went to push a button mounted on the wall.
About five minutes later a nice looking elderly man with gray hair entered. “Ah, I see that our new patient is ready for her transformation.”
“Yes Doctor,” replied the matron, “All set.”
“Mm, such a pretty young thing,” He picked up the note and continued, “I see that she is to receive the usual amount of rings.”
He explained to Marge in a gentle soothing voice, “You will be given a shot that will numb the pain but not put you under. You will be awake and know all that is being done to you.” He started to explain everything being done to her as he was doing it. “First we start with your nose. I will pierce it and insert the pretty ring,” doing this as he talked. “Then I squeeze it closed. As with all your rings it has a built-in catch that when closed locks permanently and is not removable.” When finished he started on her breasts, piercing each nipple, inserting the ring and mounting a sleigh bell before squeezing it closed and locked. He flicked each nipple making the bells jingle. “My how sweet they sound.”
Marge watched as he injected into her breasts an unknown compound. She watched with fixed fascination as she saw her breasts actually grow more than three full cup sizes. They were enormous!
“Now those are gorgeous,” he could see the look of fear and shame on her face. “Fear not pretty one, these injections have a three-fold benefit. First, as you can see, your breasts have grown to a delectable size, second, they will never sag and, third, as the hormones start to take effect and you start to lactate, your nipples will also grow proportionality.
He inserted a pair of forceps into her pussy and eased her clit out from behind its hood, pierced it and inserted a large diameter ring, attached a chain then squeezed the ring closed. When released, her clit could not fully retract behind the hood. He made two piercings on each outer labia lip inserted rings and sealed these closed. Next he inserted a dildo up her pussy and a catheter in her uterus, interlaced the rings and, using two small padlocks, locked her up.
“My, how lovely you’re starting to look. Not much longer and we’ll be finished.”
Taking a tattoo gun he placed on her groin the name: ‘SirJeff’s pony’ and today’s date. “Now all will know who owns you and the date you were transformed.” He also tattooed on her inner thigh a series of numbers and letters. “This is your court case and serial number, which will be registered at P.O.N.I.E.S. PONY OWNERS NATIONAL & INTERNATIONAL EQUESTRIAN SOCIETY. Now if you try to run away---
Taking her right foot he released it, inserted it into a boot that laced up to her calf. He did her left foot next. These were no ordinary boots; they had no heel, were shaped like a horse’s hoof and would force her to walk on her toes.
She was still under the effects of the anesthetic when she was placed on her front. Using both hands, the matron spread the cheeks of Marge’s ass. Just below the tailbone, where the crack of the ass starts, the doctor made a small incision. He grafted on an anatomical tail that looked and felt like it came from a real pony.
“Isn’t modern science wonderful,” he said. “A simple rerouting of a few nerves and your tail will be just like a real pony’s tail. With practice you will be able to move it up and down and swish it back and forth. And as you will soon notice, we died it the same color as your mane. Oh, and did I mention, the rings and tattoo may one day be removed, but, the procedures on your breasts and tail are irreversible.”
She was left strapped to the gurney and wheeled out to recover from her ordeal. Three hours later SirJeff arrived and Marge started her new life as an indentured pony.