In the morning Joanne showed up bright and early with Judy, and also got Suhanee into her harness. I hadn’t said anything, so my ponies were togged out in ‘standard’ gear, usually called ‘harness # 1’. It consisted of a leather belt buckled in back, about 3" wide in back and rising up to 4" in front, and flared out at the sides where it met their hip bones. The belt had rings on the front, side and back for securing cart poles, wrists, and posture straps. These were old-looking ones, somewhat stained and worn. Each girl had a harness on her head, a simple set of straps positioning a ring forward on each cheek. Through those rings a small metal bit made their mouths stretch back in a grin, and leather reins came down from each end of the bit. The only other item of clothing was the small bead triangle in front, barely covering their crotches. Their wrists had cuffs with rings on the inside, these were fastened to their waist bands. Each girl was twisting her wrists, seeing if she could slip out of the cuffs somehow. They didn’t greet me, which I assumed that was a standard pony thing.

"These are standard training harnesses, sir. I thought you’d probably want these instead of their own harnesses, which are in better condition but a bit different one from the other."

"As far as I can tell it’s fine, Joanne. We’ll use a more complicated harness when we need it. Well, girls, the first order of business is to find out how fast you are. Joanne, is there a big oval we can use? I want to time them."

"There are several race-tracks near here, sir. The closest one is a quarter-mile around, just down the lane to the left."

"Well, we aren’t ready to have them pull me, yet, so we’ll all walk over. (Joanne looked slightly scandalized). Girls, keep in step. Joanne, please follow and have a quirt ready to correct Judy. I’ll lead." With that I picked up both sets of reins and tugged, and both of my ponies followed prettily. They looked upbeat and happy, on their toes, eyes sparkling, smiling around their bits. (Well, I thought it was smiles, it might have just been the bit stretching their mouths.) Identical masses of multi-hued hair flowed down their backs and over their rumps. And they were still twisting their wrists. Apparently my pace was dead slow for them, for they fairly pranced as I led out from the Saunders’ place.

I led my little procession down to the oval. We established that they were ready to run - Joanne and I, that is, me wondering if they’d stretched and warmed up, and if their harness was not too tight; Joanne looking slightly huffy at the suggestion she had not done her job properly. I asked what would happen if we let them run free, Joanne pointed to the thorn bushes all around the edge of the oval. They had nowhere to go. I resorted to verbal communication.

"Girls, you are going to race each other once around this oval. Joanne will line you up, take your reins off, and give you a slap to start. Please go around easily the first time, and stop after you cross this line. OK?" They nodded.

Joanne led them to a stick I’d placed across the track, took their reins off, and looked at me. I waited until the second hand came around, then "Go!" She slapped both ponies on the rear, and off they went. Apparently running free was not something they required guidance on, they went at it with a will. I was dumbfounded at their speed. I looked down when they were across from us on the backstretch, and just 30 seconds had passed. When they came over the stick, neck and neck, the second hand was where it had started. One minute in the quarter, if indeed this was a 440 yard track. Four minutes to the mile, faster than any human had run in history, assuming they could maintain that pace. My two ponies, having slowed down after they finished and somewhat reluctantly returned and been grabbed by Joanne, were panting slightly.

"Girls, could you keep going at that speed for four laps of this oval?" They frowned a bit, but nodded. "Were you traveling flat out, or just pacing? Sorry, you can’t answer those questions can you. Was that your top speed?" They shook their heads. "Joanne, let them rest, I want to check something." I knew my belt was a yard long. I took it off, and paced over it. Yes, my stride was still about a yard. Then I paced all the way around the oval. 442 paces. It seemed to be a legitimate quarter-mile track.

"Well, now run four times around. I’ll call out the lap number. Take it easy the first two laps, then speed up on the third, and go as fast as you can on the last lap. OK, Joanne, line them up." The process was repeated, but this time I watched the second hand carefully, and said "Go!" a half-second early to make it as exact as possible. Off they went, again keeping together. A minute 10 in the first quarter, a minute in the second, 55 seconds in the third, and I started jumping up and down. They were flying! Their strides seemed yards long, legs kicking way up as they ran, heels flicking their shapely rears. In the last quarter they both decided to win, and really stretched. Coming down the straight they were neck-and-neck again, then Suhanee kicked in some hidden reserve. She went over the line in 3:50, Judy in 3:51, and they didn’t stop running until they had gone all the way around the track again. I was beside myself. Joanne corralled them and they were panting in earnest this time, sweat pouring off them in the warmth of the morning.

"Girls, you have just broken the world record for the mile. Not just broken it, you’ve smashed it flat! The fastest runner in the world has only managed four minutes four seconds, you just did it in three fifty. I am amazed!" I was also not communicating. My gasping ponies and Joanne all looked at me blankly.

"Uh, sir, we don’t use clocks here, so we don’t know what those numbers are. Do you mean Suhanee and Judy ran faster than people in the OW do?"

"By a considerable amount. Much faster."

"Well, that’s to be expected, sir. The girls on this island practice all the time. And they have been getting longer-legged for generations now."

"Joanne, and ponies, please believe me when I tell you that some people in the OW ‘practice all the time’ too. But even the fastest men can’t run anything like you can."

"Of course not, sir. But what about the women?"

"Women? Women are slower. And they can’t run for that distance, just short sprints. And men always beat them in the sprints." This was greeted with stares of incomprehension, and shaking heads. "I’m telling you the truth, in the OW men are much faster runners. Always have been. Don’t you have men here who can run fast?"

"Oh, yes sir, but not like we can. Men aren’t ponies, not runners, they’re not built for it. Men do things like throwing long sticks and tossing balls. Men have arm strength, but they can’t keep up with even the slowest women at any distance." I got distinctly pitying looks from these sleek-thighed amazons. And I realized that any time they wanted to, and were free to, Suhanee and Judy could scamper off over the horizon from me. It was a sobering feeling. I had never met a woman fleeter of foot than I. But it seemed almost ALL the women here were.

"Well, I’m amazed at your speed. Could you go around this track, let’s see, one hundred and five times? Slower, of course. Oh, sorry. Joanne, please take Suhanee’s bit out." I attended to Judy, who was still breathing hard and sweating, but not anything like an exhausted miler should have been. With the power of speech restored, both said "Please, may I have some water? And a wash?" There was a stream nearby and we led them over, Joanne having cautioned me to keep a grip on Judy’s bridle since she was now unrestrained. At the stream both ponies knelt, soaked their heads, and drank by sucking water up. I asked them again if they thought they could run a marathon distance.

"Yes, Jim, I think I could go around the track that many times. It seems a long way, over 26 miles? That’s about how long the island is, and I’ve run that several times." Judy chimed in - "But why would anyone run in circles that long? It seems silly. Of course we’d do it if we were in harness, but on my own? I think I’d get bored and stop. There should be some place to run to, shouldn’t there?" I didn’t have a good answer to that. These people, for all their easy-going lifestyles, were intensely practical. And Judy had something - why indeed just run around and around? Marathon races weren’t run that way in the OW either.

On our way back from the stream Malua came by with her team. She stopped, we greeted with a little kiss, and I asked if I could have my ponies run around the track against one of hers. She didn’t need all three in harness, and told Joanne to release Gail, who was usually the fastest. When that was done Malua went on with Marie and Renee, and my promise to send Gail on to her - Malua was going to the big track to put in some laps. I told Gail what we were doing, released her elbow and head restraints, and took her large bit out.

"Now girls, I’ve left your bits out so you can really breathe. Gail’s going to race with you, and I want top speed for two laps, all you’ve got." They lined up with Joanne behind their behinds, chests all stuck out proudly, and waited the signal. "Go", followed by a simultaneous and resounding slap, and they were off. This time there was no holding back, they took off like a sprinter from the block. 50 for the first lap, Suhanee a slight lead over Judy, Gail several strides back. 1:35 for the half, Suhanee first, then Judy, Gail 30 yards behind. And Malua had said Gail was the fastest of her team, the fastest team on the island? Not any more! My steeds were well lathered now. I told Joanne to take the winded Gail to the main track and meet us at the stables. Then I re-bitted my own panting girls, hooked on their reins, and led them to the stream, where they immersed themselves completely, and back to the stables. My chest stuck out almost as far as theirs did! Not only did I have the fastest team on the island - as far as Malua knew - I had the two fastest runners in the world! And my, weren’t they something when they ran. Those legs were shapely, not just strong, long strides, feet extended, their breasts bouncing merrily with each stride, long hair flowing back in the wind catching the sun and reflecting a rainbow of color, as they went by their bare buttocks flexing and working, just those little strings of beads bouncing up and down in front, and a leather belt trimming their waists. I got pretty worked up just thinking about it, and had to divert myself by admiring the bougainvillea and bird-of-paradise plants along the lane.

If the morning was a triumph, the afternoon was a disaster. A complete snafu, total foobar, Chinese Fire Drill First Class, a cluster-fuck of amazing proportions. I wore out most of my seafaring vocabulary, and had to resort to comparing my team of speedsters to Rumanian Regiments, Italian Infantry and the Afghan Army, none of which had any significance for them but made me feel better.

I had hooked them to the Saunders’ old training cart, which was heavy enough to keep them from bolting, and tried to get something like a simple trot down a lane going. The problem was teamwork. As fast and beautiful as my Radiants were individually, together they could achieve nothing. Judy would not respond to anything but hard jerks on her bit, they were out of step as often as in, and Suhanee spent so much time struggling with her restraints that she usually didn’t pay any attention to what Judy was doing. So one would start but not the other, or one stop, turns were haphazard, and twice they nearly tipped me over. There was no slowing them, either, except by practically breaking their necks pulling back on the reins. It wasn’t malevolence, it was just ineptitude. That and being untrained, and neither one helping the training any. Their attitude, if indeed they had one, was that training was my responsibility. When I had done whatever I had to, then they’d be a team, but don’t ask for their help in the meantime. I began to see what Malua had been trying to warn me of.

We spent a frustrating four hours, then I gave up and turned the dispirited spirits over to Joanne for cleanup and rubdown. But not for dismissal.

I put on my stern face again and informed them that as good as the morning had been, the afternoon was a non-starter and that they would be spending their second night in the stables, ‘in harness’.

"Joanne, I want you to find some padded cuffs for their ankles and thighs and arms, to match those wrist cuffs. I want them joined together side-by-side, ankle, knee, wrist and arm, so they are a real pair. Then do something else to make sure they understand how important this all is. Then feed them a little. OK?"

"Oh, I can find something to occupy their attention, sir. Right now?"

"Oh, I’m sorry, how thoughtless of me. Do you need to go home now, Joanne?" I was so upset with the ponies that I’d forgotten I only got Joanne until 6, which it now was.

"I can stay a bit more, sir, to get them fed and harnessed, and then come back after my dinner if you need me. And I’ll tell Judy’s aunt she won’t be coming home tonight."

"Or for the rest of the week. That will be fine, Joanne, I appreciate your help, but you don’t need to come back unless you want to. Now, ponies, I’ll be over after dinner to have a little chat. I expect to find you fed, but not too much, at home in your stall but not too comfortable, and ready to give me your full and undivided attention. We have a lot to talk about."

Dinner that night was a continuation of the kidding. People had seen my unruly pair pulling me this way and that. I tried to stay cheerful around my teeth-grinding frustration, and reminded myself that even if I achieved nothing, what was I complaining about? Look who I wasn’t achieving anything with, after all. In the OW I’d have given a month’s pay just to spend an hour with women as great looking and undressed as these two were. It was just the disappointment of not getting instant success that put me off. Jim, m’boy, get a handle on yourself. You can’t expect anyone else to behave until your own vessel is completely ship-shape and tidy. Come on, lad, snap to it. Have a clear port in mind, know the weather, and hold a steady heading! The voice of old Tom Reilly, my first bo’sn’s mate. He often talked to me that way, though he’d died in ‘32. (Not, unfortunately, in a storm off the cape or some other sailorly situation. He was hit by a falling cargo net filled with toilets. Such is a seafarer’s life.)

I snapped to. From now on I would be firm, in control, and brook no more nonsense. The only problem was I had to have a plan. Tom, how do you get a couple of slackers to pull together? Why, that’s easy, boyo. You set ‘em an impossible goal. Then the smaller goal you actually want seems much easier. Something that had been tickling at me suddenly came clear. My goal wasn’t to just enter the races. Hell no, not that at all! Considerably cheered up, I went back to the stables to see what my industrious little helper had accomplished.

I found Joanne back from dinner and my steeds indeed ready for a ‘chat’. And how. They were both standing in the stall. Joanne had found more cuffs. My ponies had their arms over their heads, elbows linked together to draw their arms close behind their heads, wrists fastened together too. Left alone this would have forced their heads forwards in an unsightly manner, but from their wrists a lead went down to their knee cuffs in back. Those leads were buckled tightly, which made their wrists come well down their backs, and bent them backwards like strung bows, breasts up and pelvises thrust forward provocatively. Joanne hadn’t stopped there. A complicated bridle on each pretty head sported blinders, to make them look straight ahead, and a ball strapped into both their mouths ensured listening, not talking. Judy and Suhanee were linked firmly together at elbow, thigh and ankle. A 3’ bar between their off-side ankles made them spread their legs apart and cock their hips. Judy had a most troubled expression on her face, eyes a bit wide and brow furrowed, Suhanee had the same far-away look she’d shown me the previous day when Joanne was binding her elbows back together. As I watched I saw that they were both testing their restraints, wrists flexing and working in the cuffs. Joanne had been talking to Teena while they both polished some bits of harness but came over while I was admiring her handiwork.

"My, what a pair of attentive ponies. Thorough work, Joanne, and thanks for coming back. Can you bring them out, please?" Joanne unhooked the bar holding their ankles apart, re-hooked one end to their clipped-together ankles, and then walked out holding the other end. The trussed-up Radiences had to move their joined leg, then their free ones, in a tripod gait. Once on the stable floor Joanne hooked the bar to their off ankles again and they became immobile. Standing in front of them, so they had a clear view of me, I began the speech I had been mentally rehearsing since dinner.

"Joanne, have you fed and watered these charming fillies?"

"Yes sir, just a light snack though. They aren’t very good at eating with a bit in their mouths. Yet." She grinned.

"Well, fillies, as soon as I’m finished we may reduce your strained poses and let you have a good dinner. If you both pay close attention, concentrate hard on what I’m going to say, and nod to show you understand. If your attention wanders - either one of you - you’ll both spend the whole night like this. So please give me your undivided attention. And get used to that, it’s a firm rule from now on. When I’m talking, if you can see me, look right at me. I’m liable to get very cranky if I think I’m being ignored and I’ll let Joanne exercise her inventive talents on you. Are we clear so far?" After a very brief pause, Suhanee and Judy both nodded. But not in unison, and Judy bobbed twice while Suhanee gave a smaller, single nod.

"Please try again. I know you can’t see one another with blinders on, but you can feel what the other’s doing. It’s very important that you nod together. Are we clear?" After a little longer pause, they nodded in near-unison, down-up, once.

"Very good. Joanne, would you please loosen their back-straps a bit? These girls have had a long day and should be as comfortable as their situation allows." Joanne looked at me, shrugged, and went behind the stiffly posing pair. Joanne was not into making ponies comfortable, it seemed. But soon Suhanee straightened up some, then Judy. They were by no means comfortable yet, with their arms up and elbows bent, wrists back, still human bows with taut, strained stomachs and lower backs bent almost at right angles to their hips.

"I’m sorry for your discomfort. I know you’re wondering what you did to deserve it. Well you didn’t do anything, together. That’s the problem. Now we have agreed that I have your attention, and we can proceed." I stared into four eyes staring right back at me, not wavering or looking away at all. Judy’s eyes weren’t quite as wide as they had been, she looked a little more relaxed now. "Right?" They nodded again, in unison, down/up. "Very good." But it wasn’t time for any more loosening up, not yet.

"You are my pony team. I’ve been on this island for just four days, and know practically nothing about training or driving a team. As I proved today. Suhanee has never been part of a team or even in harness until today; Judy has had a lot of training but apparently not the kind she needs to work well as a pony. Is that a fair summary?" A pause, then they both nodded down/up.

"In three weeks we will be competing in the big race, against all the other teams on the island. It will be a hard three weeks for all four of us, but we will enter and do well. In fact, we will do better than ‘well’. We are going to win that race. We are going to be the champions, and you will have won the right to wear jeweled sandals. No, don’t respond, I know you don’t believe me. It’s impossible. But I have a plan. Judy and Suhanee, do you know anyone who can run faster than you can? Answer together." This time the pause lasted five seconds. Then, tentatively, a negative left-right from both. Someone had guessed correctly, or they were communicating somehow.

"So if you learn to run together, we will obviously win the races you are good at. Now you will have to take this as my opinion, and I haven’t seen all the girls on this island yet, but you two are not only the fastest runners, you are also by far the best-looking ones. So if you learn to move together you’ll win the beauty contest too. That leaves the precision driving events, and we have three weeks to get good enough to place highly in them. We don’t have to win them, just place. You see? It is possible. Unlikely, sure. But I believe that unlikely things can happen if you work hard. So we four are going to spend the next three weeks working very, very hard. You won’t be getting much time off at nights or weekends. I am also afraid you are going to be spending a lot of time having Joanne - or me - making you uncomfortable. That’s going to be part of your training.

"Judy, you are a wriggler and you don’t like following orders. In three weeks your hands and arms will be completely still when you are in harness, and you will follow my orders without even thinking about them, it will be automatic. Suhanee, you are also a wriggler and you don’t know the first thing about pulling a cart. In three weeks your hands and arms will also be completely still, and you’ll know everything about pulling a cart. Joanne will brush and curry and polish you to perfection. I will spend so much time driving you that we could do back figure eights if we needed to. But most of all, you two independent-minded minxes are going to become a unit, a smooth team. You are going to live, eat, breathe, sleep, and do everything else joined together as you are now, so that if one moves the other will too, without even thinking about it. You are going to become twins, linked twins, the most unified team ever seen. Now you don’t have to agree with me, yet, but you have to understand. Did you understand what I said?" This time I was looking at a couple of deer-in-the-headlights. My little speech had stupefied them. "Girls?" Down/up.

"Good. Joanne, please undo their back-straps and take their fancy headdress off. I’ll help."

Joanne and I released the stiffly posing pair, but left them joined together. I had them sit, and Joanne wiped their chins and breasts of drool.

"Now please don’t speak unless I ask you something. If either one of you does, you both get bits back. Large ones. Joanne, am I forgetting anything?"

"Sir, excuse me, but you are. You are talking to them, but you aren’t emphasising your speech by touching them. Ponies are trained to respond to touches, and it’s important to reinforce each command with some kind of signal they can feel."

"Like what, pat them on the knee or chuck under the chin?"

"No, sir, something more... emphatic. When I tell a pony something, it’s because I can’t get the idea across through tugging on their bit or harness, or tightening something, or slapping them, or quirting. So I accompany the verbal order with that kind of physical action. It makes an impression." I started to feel that Judy might have been right at home as a concentration camp guard, but one look at her dispelled that idea, she was far too young, innocent and feminine for that. Or so she seemed. But the advice seemed well meant, and couldn’t hurt me.

"Girls, Joanne thinks you need help remembering what I just told you. You are to act together! (I slapped each, lightly, on the cheek.) You are to stay joined to each other all the time! (Another light slap.) You will both suffer discomfort if one misbehaves!" (To vary the routine, I pinched a nipple on the adjoining breasts.) You will respond together - nodding (I put a hand on each chin and moved it down, then up - sharply.), shaking for ‘no’ (chins again, left-right). You will answer verbally in unison too, you will always speak together, always saying the same thing. As long as you are in harness you will never say anything by yourself." I grabbed their lower lips between thumb and finger. "Say ‘yes master’ now." and I pulled on their lips. A pause, then "Yef, mafter" from both. I let go. "Again, right together." "Yes-master". "Again." "Yes-master." "Again." "Yes-master." Ten more times they went through this simple catechism, each time I lifted their chins a bit higher so at the last they were looking at the ceiling. Then back down. "Bite your lower lips to emphasize this." They both took their full lips in their teeth and worried them. "Stop. When you hear a command, say ‘yes-master’ before doing it. Bite your lips again." "Yeth mathter" and they started biting again. "Stop". "Yeth-mathter." I kept this up for a half-hour, having them get up, take some steps, come back, sit down, purse their lips, lick them, smile, turn and kiss each other, whatever I could think of. I accompanied each command with a little slap, or a touch on their breasts, a pinch, a tug on their hair, a chin lift. After another half-hour they were responding nicely, without hesitation. "We will work on this every morning and evening, an hour or two of drill every day should get you used to obeying before you think. Are you thinking right now?" "Yes-master". "You will be trained to stop doing that. Ponies have no need to think, just to react. Leave the thinking to me. Are you still thinking?" "Yes-master." "We will know we are making progress when I ask that and you just shake your pretty, empty heads." I turned to see if Joanne was still here, and found her staring raptly, her mouth slightly open, eyes wide, breathing in fast little puffs.

"Joanne, you can go home now." "Yes-master". Apparently my lessons were being absorbed by more than just my ponies. Joanne got up without another word and left. I was going to have another talk with my girls, but decided that talk wasn’t effective. I decided to put their bits back in, remembering from when I took them out how they went. Suhanee opened her mouth to receive it, but Judy gave me a slight look and hesitated when I brought the bit up. That led to another fifteen-minute training session, enforced by pinching her nose closed. As soon as she saw a bit near her face, Judy was to gape as wide as she possibly could. We worked at seeing how wide that was, and I eventually had her gaping like a little bird in a nest. Then I took Suhanee’s bit back out, and we practiced both of them gaping when either one saw a bit. I didn’t relent until they could do it simultaneously. Finally I left my two lovely little birdies gaping away at a bit I hung in front of them, while I sauntered out of the stable and crept silently back. When I peeked in, my two little birdies were still in full gape, drooling a little, both staring at the bit. Something had been learned today. I rewarded their performance by feeding them their bits, then sat on a mattress on the floor, back against the wall, and had them lie down on their backs, heads in my lap. They had trouble maneuvering all stuck together, with only three legs and no hands, and wound up falling on me, but we got them straightened out. Then I stroked their foreheads and talked to them about what we had done today, how proud I had been at first, how frustrated at their later performance, but that this evening seemed to have corrected a lot of that and now they were going to become a real team.

As I kept stroking I got an overpowering urge to stroke something else, and used my right hand to lift and lightly squeeze one of Suhanee’s breasts. I didn’t know what I expected her to do, but she smiled around her bit, closed her eyes, and made a little cooning sound in her throat. Leaving my forearm under her breasts I took Judy’s nearside one. She too made a contented noise and wriggled just a bit, all over. I juggled until I had my hand under both adjoining boobs, bobbling them, then came up and started brushing the nipples. This resulted in two stiff nipples, and a stiff Jim too. The girls had to know, their heads were right on me, but they just lay there. I kept up a quiet stream of chatter, talking about them, about me, about what I thought of the island, and about what we could achieve as a team. Their breathing became more regular, and even with me toying with them damned if they didn’t drift off to sleep! Here I was with a stiff willie, two near-naked gals nodded off in my lap, and me playing raise the flagpole with four luscious nipples. I kept it up for a bit, then eased out from under them, substituting a pillow under each head.

I looked down at my team. Lying still now, their waists still nipped in by their harness, the little bead things their only cover, and Suhanee with her right leg out so the bead thing wasn’t doing anything for modesty except laying limply over the very top of her pussy, Judy also partly exposed, their breasts rising and falling in unison, a little drool escaping Suhanee’s lips and running back by her bit towards her ear, then an attempted shift of position frustrated by their joined-together condition, followed by a frown and an effort to scratch something in her sleep, also frustrated by their wrists being pinned together over their heads. At least they weren’t wriggling now. The girls’ helpless condition, my reducing them to something quite child-like and robotic during this evening’s training, their casual acceptance of my playing with their breasts and nipples... Oh, it was going to be SO much fun doing this. I reckoned that I’d keep them in this stable almost every night for the next three weeks. With me to tuck them in, say ‘nighty-night’, play a few little games with them. Hmmmm.

MALUA! I suddenly broke out in a panic and my erection died to limpness. I mustn’t forget my ‘fiance’. What if she had wandered in during this hanky-panky? Well, from what she’d said last night she’d shrug and hope I’d have some left over for her. Hah, that I found very hard to believe - no ‘outside’ woman could behave that way. Turning, I hurried over to the house. Malua and her brother were still up, drinking some wine and talking.

"Hi, Jim, have a bottle and join us. You can use the cheering up."

"Thanks, Matt. Hi Malua dear. I will join you, but the cheering-up part’s been done. I think my troublesome team is on the way to redemption." I explained what I’d done, to partial skepticism. "Well, that may work, but as soon as you let them run free again they may revert. Girls do. You’ll have to keep on them." After a bit Matt yawned and went off, now we were alone together. (A great oxymoron, but dash it, that’s the way it was in that house of four wives and 10 kids.) Malua turned to me with a look that was hard to mistake.

"They’ve been working on you, too, haven’t they, Jim dear."

"Well not half as hard as I’ve been working on them, but yes." I decided honesty was not just the best but the only policy in this situation. I’d just have to see if Malua meant it about not being jealous.

"The vixens fell asleep with their heads in my lap and their mammaries staring at me. I couldn’t very well leave all that delectable display unattended, so I stroked them as they fell asleep. They liked it well enough! But I’m not sure about this business. Malua, I wasn’t touching them in a soothing way, I was exciting them. Definitely exciting, their nipples got erect. Is that considered proper?"

"Show me. Show me just what you did, so I can pass judgment."

And in nothing flat Malua was on my lap, I was stroking her forehead, "But it’s not quite right, dear, open wide... Now bite this spoon. There, you have a bit too. Put your arms back over your head, clasp your hands..." And I repeated my mammary massage on Malua. She arched her back, gave a protracted wriggle, making them bounce, and licked her lips. I paid attention to them, while also getting her nipples stiff. Boy howdy, did they get stiff. I transferred my mouth from lips to nipple and back, and we had quite a time revving Malua up. Jim was already fully revved, for the second time that night, with no relief in sight. "What if someone gets up? Should we go to your room or mine?

"Wbhy?" came out from around the spoon.

This island thing again, they just weren’t concerned about ‘what other people might think’. Malua was in her house, entertaining her good friend as she saw fit, and if it made someone else uncomfortable, they could look the other way. But of course what she was doing didn’t make others uncomfortable, not here.

"Never mind. Is what I’m doing, ‘proper’ with ponies?"

"Yeth, Jm, thath bery brober. If youah bony feelth thompting idn’t brober, she’w teuu you. Otay?"

"Fine. Is the demonstration over?"

"Nod quide. Wood you tage dis bid oud foah me, pweath?" She was playing along, her hands were ‘tied’, and she couldn’t just spit it out. I removed the spoon. Malua got up a bit, hands still clasped.

"Now spread your legs, lie back, and don’t resist. I need to know if this is OK, in case I should ever want to do it to you. Then you can pass judgement."

I wasn’t going to argue. Malua, hands clasped behind and using just her mouth, undid the buttons of my fly and went diving. She came up with a long, stiff fish, but the fish didn’t have a chance, it was mostly swallowed already. She pulled back, letting it sit wetly in my lap, and looked up at me, then deliberately licked all around the end. It tickled - I’m terminally ticklish - and I squirmed.

"Oh, should I stop?" With the widest of wide-eyed innocent looks.

"Gd... No, dear, you should not stop. I’m just ticklish." She didn’t stop. She also didn’t have a gag reflex, and she could also hold her breath for over two minutes. As she demonstrated. After that was all done, with me limp, I got worried about her happiness. Her happiness wasn’t my business yet, it seemed, but she’d let me know as soon as it was. In the meantime, that kissing stuff was pretty good, why didn’t we do that again? Without the urgency on my part we were able to explore all the possibilities. There were a lot of possibilities. It was 2 when I got to bed. Some idiot started making noise about five minutes later, and why was the sun coming up?