This work is copyright 2000-2004 by Xaltatun of Acheron (A Pseudonym). It may be posted on the Internet to any free forum, provided it is not modified in any way, and provided that this notice is included in its entirety. It may not be sold, or included in any compilation that is sold, or posted on any forum that requires a fee for access, without my written permission. My permission will require payment, terms to be negotiated. For purposes of this notice, sites guarded by Adult Check or similar packages are considered pay sites. Posting on any site must include this copyright notice.
Adult Content Warning - this story contains adult themes, including non-consensual bondage/slavery and forced sexual acts. If you are under the lawful age for such materials (18 in most jurisdictions) or if you would find such material offensive, please go elsewhere.
Safety Warning. This story may contain descriptions of practices that are decidedly unsafe, either in general, or if performed by someone without adequate training. There are a number of good books available on safety in the BDSM scene. Most large cities, and some not so large ones, have organized BDSM groups that will usually welcome a newcomer. I'm not going to point out which practices are safe, and which aren't. Any practice is unsafe if performed by someone with inadequate training and experience, or if performed when not paying attention. Please think before you act. Don't make yourself a candidate for a Darwin award.
Story codes: (MF, FF, pony, SF, little sex)
There are currently eight stories in the Freehold series:
1. A Slave Girl of Freehold
2. A Ponygirl of Freehold
3. The Field Ecologist's Ponygirl (sequel to A Ponygirl of Freehold)
4. Delivery Ponyboy
5. Carriage Team of Freehold
6. Escaped Ponygirl
7. Pyramid Scheme
8. Gor meets Amazonia
Stories 2 and 3: Ponygirl and Field Ecologist form one story and should be read in that order. Story one leads into story 4, although there isn't any real continuity of plot.
Carriage Team of Freehold, Escaped Ponygirl, Pyramid Scheme and Gor Meets Amazonia form a sequence, to some extent based on events at the end of Delivery Ponyboy. You do not need to read them in sequence, but it may help fill in gaps.
Some additional background on Freehold, in particular, how it happened, is in the story "The Curtain Falls, The Curtain Rises," the end of the Ponygirl Transformation series.
The name Freehold has no relationship to any other use of the term by any other author. No connection should be assumed, either derivative or as a base for parody.
OK - now on to the story -------
Chapter 1. It happened this way: Twenty Years previously.
Chapter 2. The Princess Arrives.
Chapter 3. The Race.
Chapter 4. After the Race.
Chapter 5. Shopping Expedition.
Chapter 6. Plans
Chapter 7. Enclave Control Committee Meeting Number 497.
Chapter 8. Prep Time
Chapter 9. Unexpected efficiency causes a slight problem
Chapter 10. Temple Island
Chapter 11. The Stables
Chapter 12. Bureaucratic Flashback.
Chapter 13. Back at the stables.
Chapter 14. Diplomatic Dinner
Chapter 15. Sasha
Chapter 16. Enclave Control Committee Meeting Number 499.
Chapter 17. Payback Time.
Chapter 18. I Meet the Dodecahedron. We both survive.
Chapter 19. I buy Sleen.
Chapter 20. Customs Duty.
Chapter 21. Terri is a What???
Chapter 22. Introduction to the Dodecahedron.
Chapter 23. Interview with a ponyboy.
Chapter 24. Sojourn in Fantasyland.
Chapter 25. Conversation with the God’s Own Winemaker
Chapter 26. Master Skodarian.
Chapter 27. Taking Care of Terri.
Chapter 28. Council Business.
Chapter 29. Human Rights Conference.
Chapter 30. More Meetings.
Chapter 31. Bonnie out-clevers herself.
Chapter 32. Back at Master Skodarian’s.
Chapter 33. Another Mob Scene.
Chapter 34. Executive Reorganization.
In the first episode of Gor Meets Amazonia, we did a bit of a flashback about how Princess (then Duchess) Annabelle introduced herself to the Gorean Enclave with a show of swordsmanship that would baffle anyone who knows swordsmanship. All will eventually be revealed. Various other things moved along; Sherry has decided to immigrate to Freehold, and has discovered a few problems in her way, like she’s illiterate. Annabelle wants to turn me into the living representative of the gods, as the gods own ponygirl. I must say I was intrigued by the idea, especially the notion that I would have apparently miraculous powers at my beck and call.
In the second episode we had the obligatory ponygirl race. I won the first two heats, and one of the twins won the third. Princess Annabelle decided we needed more staff, so she wanted a small shopping expedition.
In the third episode, we went shopping for more staff, and bought a courtesan for the Prince and Princess, a farm supervisor to take care of the place, and another groom to help Frank out. The Prince arrived, and I discovered that I was now expected to attend Enclave Control Committee meetings. They’re a trip and a half, let me tell you. In this one, we decided to install part of Freehold’s population control system in the Enclave. In any case, plans are what doesn’t happen, and all the nice ideas about how to inject me into the Enclave with maximum effect were doomed to be unraveled, as you’re about to see.
In the fourth episode, a UN official, Ser Johansen, shows up to deal with some fisheries problems, and I get injected into the Enclave early. When the dust settles, I’m ensconced in my permanent position in Animal House, which is what the apartments occupied by the followers of Dionysus is called, and have acquired titular authority over the Temple Island pony stables. I’ve gotten a semi-permanent ponygirl named Donny Brooke, and I’m the owner of a slave girl named Sasha, who is somewhat of a problem.
In the fifth episode, I settle Sasha, and then we have another Enclave Control Committee meeting, where things finally get moving. The Committee decides to expand the system to include international law enforcement, and yours truly is appointed the enforcer, with the grudging acquiesce of the Dodecahedron, which has a number of concerns with my using my “god given powers” in that endeavor. I also started picking up a number of anthropologists that had gotten stuck in one way or another and adding them to my staff.
In the sixth episode, I do some more law enforcement, pick up another anthropologist named Terrence Waters who turns out to have been turned into a very tasty she-male named Terri, get introduced to the Dodecahedron and finally recruit the last of the missing anthros, a man named Roger Thornton who’s been turned into a ponyboy and is now residing in my stables. Is this getting complicated, or what?
In the seventh episode, I started dealing with the human rights people who’d gotten themselves in a snit about the human livestock program in the Enclave. As it turned out, Ser Johansen had gotten to them, and I had to get them calmed down. Then the Dionysus cult’s senior winemaker put me on to Master Skodarian, who was the one that had transformed Terri. That led to a number of rather interesting back and forths, but at least Terri started getting her head straightened out from the conditioning Skodarian had implanted.
What can I say about this kind of conference? Frankly, in my former life, I’d avoided them like the plague. Terri, on the other hand, had a lot of experience with them, or at least the academic versions, and Freehold’s Foreign Affairs Department did its usual efficient job in setting up the meetings that protocol required me to attend.
Well, it almost managed to set it up properly. I suspect that whoever had done it simply had never dealt with someone with a tail. Tails, after all, were pretty much restricted to ponies and ex-ponies, and even then most ex-ponies got rid of theirs if they were in the cities or moved much above citizen. And of course, people that would get sent to conferences like this probably had never been ponies in the first place.
So I fired off a message asking if they could arrange a special chair. I don’t have too much difficulty if I’m wearing either slacks or the formal gowns I’d just acquired; both of them had an opening in the back for my tail to pop through. However, the standard short skirts that were working formal were a different matter. There wasn’t any way to get my tail out the back without ruining the rather severe lines, so I usually let it come down inside and then back out the hem or the slit in the back.
That worked find if I was standing; I could get it high enough to rub an ear or rearrange my hair without pulling the skirt hem, although it did require having the slit in back. Sitting, on the other hand, was a definite problem. The only way I could manage it was to bring my tail underneath and out the front, next to my legs. I’d solved that one by simply deciding that I was going to wear slacks, and to heck with propriety.
Even with slacks, though, the standard solid back chair simply didn’t work. It was too cramped for my tail. I used an open back chair, and by now everyone I dealt with normally made sure they had one available.
I’ll leave all the boring stuff out. The real reason for conferences like this is to get to meet people, and that doesn’t happen in planned meetings. It happens in the corridors, receptions, BOFs and meetings that somehow don’t manage to make the printed agenda.
I made contacts, talked, listened and gradually managed to get the notion across that Things Were Being Done behind the scenes. It didn’t hurt that people don’t quite know what to make of a tall lady with hooves, a tail and horses ears; they tend to take her at her own valuation.
Meetingitis seems to be the current chapter in the story of my life. At least, the meetings in the Enclave seemed to be producing something, unlike the Human Rights Conference I’d just come back from. Well, I thought, I really should be charitable. I had managed to get any fuss about the human ponies in the Enclave sidetracked without disclosing exactly how they were being kept.
I wasn’t quite as sure about the Enclave Control Committee meetings, though. The Human Rights Conference had done one positive thing. I’d gotten back in touch with what the rest of the world was doing, and a rather horrible suspicion was growing in the back of my mind. Freehold simply didn’t understand anything that wasn’t Freehold. Mostly, that didn’t matter, and what little I knew of Freehold society told me that it was eminently livable, and I’d probably do quite well there. However, it did nicely explain the bomb I was about to drop.
Today, I’d decided to bring both Terri and Faith. They’d been working with Roger putting together their observations of the Enclave into the beginnings of a coherent anthropological survey, and I wanted them both on tap in case I needed a professional opinion.
The meeting opened as usual, with the attendees suddenly appearing in the virtual space of the meeting room. Prince Gregory, as usual, opened it.
“The 500th meeting of the Enclave Control Committee meeting will come to order. Are there any issues with the minutes of the last meeting?” He turned the floor over to Prince Davis to report on the new system in the Enclave.
“I think we’re done with the immediate requirements,” he said.
“I agree,” Princess Jeanette said, and Prince Boris agreed with her.
“We’ve still got a training issue with the customs inspectors in Port Kar,” I added on the tail end. “I don’t think that’s going to need system changes, but I’m not entirely sure. We’re just starting the first quarter on the population control system, and I’d like to hold that open for feedback. Tracking all of the priestesses of Hera was something we didn’t anticipate, and I’m not celebrating before we’ve gone a couple of quarters without major problems showing up.”
“That makes sense,” Prince Davis said as Prince Gregory nodded.
“Then I’ve got what may be a new requirement, and two problems that will make a lot more sense once we discuss the Bess issue.”
I saw a lot of puzzled looks. “Do you mean the Pony Girl?” Princess Annabelle asked. “I thought she was long gone.”
“That’s the one,” I answered. “She’s definitely off the scene. It may help to know she’s also known as Linnet, and she helped set up the Freehold manufacturing system.”
“Her!” Prince Gregory exclaimed as Princess Annabelle asked “They’re the same person? I didn’t realize!” and Prince Davis leaned forward. The rest of the attendees just looked confused.
“I think we’d better move this up on the agenda,” Princess Jeanette said into the silence. “From the way the Flame is smirking, she thinks she’s just thrown us a major curve.” She turned to me. “Explicate.”
“It’s simple enough when you realize that Bess may be the reason that the Enclave managed to survive at all once the money ran out. They seem to think so, at any rate. One thing she did was to get a promise of continuing support from Freehold as her payment for helping set up the manufacturing system.”
“I see,” Prince Gregory said.
“That explains a few things I’d wondered about, but never quite had the time to investigate,” Prince Davis added as the other attendees nodded.
“One completely unanticipated side effect is that half of them think I’m Bess, and the other half aren’t going to argue the issue. That gives me a lot of leverage, but it’s also a real trap if we’re not careful.”
“I can see that,” Princess Jeanette nodded thoughtfully.
“Do we have the time to think this aspect over at leisure?” Prince Gregory said.
“I think so,” I answered him. “There are some things that need action quickly, though. One is that Bess left a semi-automated manufacturing operation behind in the Clothing Guild, and the equipment is beginning to need maintenance. Frankly, she must have been a genius for it to function this long!”
“That was Larry,” Prince Davis said. “Linnet was real good at the practical side of implementation, but she was no engineer.”
I nodded. “She’s also the one that was responsible for the system that turns people into ponies. There used to be six of them, but two have already failed.”
“I think I see what you’re getting at,” Prince Davis said. “They must be part of a bigger process, and if we simply replace them with our own equipment we’ll have to deal with the entire process.”
“Exactly,” Princess Annabelle said. “Which brings us back to the pony situation. Let’s defer that for a bit though. I think the Flame has more on this one.”
“Well, one more item, really. The goddess Vesta is responsible for what we always called women’s work; her high priestess has been bugging me about the food and supplies donations.”
“She’d like a voice in them, eh?” Princess Annabelle said. “I can’t see any objection in principle.”
“But it needs to be controlled,” Prince Gregory added. “Annabelle, you work on that with Prince Davis. Running Flame will be the contact point for now.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I suspect this Bess connection means we may have to pull Running Flame out sooner rather than later, so think about transitioning it.”
“I’d like to discuss the two meetings in the Enclave before we make any decisions,” Princess Jeanette said firmly. “If we can get some kind of council with some legitimacy and authority established there, it will simplify everything.”
“It’s still a bit early to count on it,” Princess Annabelle said.
“I think there’s a sense of urgency you’re missing,” I put in. “What we did on the population control thing shocked a lot of people to their core, and there’s a sense that either they present a united front, or they’re just going to get pushed around some more.”
“And that is totally unacceptable for a dominance based society,” Prince Andy added.
“Then why didn’t we get a revolt?” Jeanette asked.
“Against who?” I answered. “Besides, they know what happens to people who revolt, and the situation simply isn’t that bad. This is one culture that really does know what ‘death ground’ is all about.”
There were nods all around on that observation. “Never leave an enemy with no way out,” Prince Gregory quoted. “They will fight like cornered rats.”
“So what about those meetings?” Jeanette continued. “I haven’t seen a transcript or a summary.”
“Nobody was taking notes,” I half apologized.
“That’s right. You don’t know the system we use for executive meeting summaries. We can run the scan records through it, but the first few times are going to require a lot of editing before it learns the nuances.”
“Good,” Gregory said. “That’s Annabelle’s responsibility, but she’s going to need staff to do it that’s familiar with the Enclave and the people involved.” His eyes flicked across Terri and Faith, and he frowned for a moment. “That basically means your staff, Flame. Both of them should be Professional equivalent easily.”
“Which means Terri,” I said. “I’m sending Faith to Ancient Egypt to work on the anthropology there.”
“Train both of them,” Annabelle said.
“I’ll free up someone to work with them as soon as they’re done with the courses,” Jeanette added.
“That takes care of that,” Gregory observed. “What about the other direction? Do we want to send them our minutes?”
“I think so,” Annabelle said slowly. “Of course, that’s going to blow what tatters of cover Flame and I have left.”
“I don’t see that it makes much difference,” I said. “Everyone important has made it clear that they know I represent Freehold. The only thing that being associated with the Dionysus cult does for me is fit me into the structure somewhere halfway rational. From what I’ve seen so far, I much prefer being based on Temple Island than Port Kar.
“Besides which, they do have some of the best wine I’ve ever tasted.”
“Can it be exported?” Princess Jeanette asked. “I know this is out of order, but getting them an export business could be a very good thing.”
“I don’t know how well it will travel. I’ll ask the head winemaker to select some samples for you.”
“Good,” Gregory said. “I think that brings us back to the pony situation. Did you turn up anything about how and why Bess did such an idiotic thing as turn off half of their brains?”
“The chip turns out to be something they had on hand for another project, fortunately long past. It morphed into the brain interface the Dodecahedron shares with us. On the other side, well, let’s just say that Bess was one weird lady. She not only enjoyed being a ponygirl, she really enjoyed not having to think human style. I turned up comments that she spent days mixing with people while she had no higher brain function active, and she never had it active while she was under the saddle. We don’t modify our ‘girls to be ridden, although the ponygirl fancier organizations do. She could switch back and forth essentially at will, and Roger has learned to do it.”
“The Hungry Tiger Ponygirl Ranch does the riding mods,” Prince Andy observed. “Roger can switch back and forth without using the chip? That might be what we need for the human rights issues.”
“He’s been using the chip to switch the ponies in the Temple Island herd back and forth so he can interview them in both modes,” I added. “His notes are real interesting.”
“Mark them for my attention,” Princess Jeanette said. “This may be the solution we’re looking for.”
“Mine also,” Andy added. “I may want to discuss this with the Hungry Tiger.”
“Is there anything else left?” Prince Gregory asked.
“The Clothiers Guild and the ponymaking equipment,” I answered.
“I’ll get to you offline on that,” Prince Davis said. “I want to get a staffer involved with the Clothier’s Guild, and that’s going to take some consideration for the right person. I’m not even sure where to begin on the ponymaking process; probably with our pony trainers but that’s a completely separate area.”
The next day, I started working with Terri on putting out the edited minutes of the Enclave Control Committee meeting. We’d spent about five seconds considering having her write them up by hand, and discarded that. It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it; she was developing an acceptable scribal hand. It was more that we wanted them out quickly, and there wasn’t much point in concealing the fact that they were from Freehold.
So we’d spent the last hour getting a small office printer installed. We’d found one that used roll paper rather than cut sheets, and found some scroll making software. Faith had been the one to look under art supplies rather than office supplies to find it.
So we’d made up the distribution list, and were in the process of attaching the paper to the rollers when Bonnie stepped in it with both feet.
The first I knew of it was when the alarm went off in my head. That sounds more serious than it is. It’s more like a very insistent light that you can’t ignore unless you pay enough attention to it to figure out whether you need to do something right now.
In this case, it really did mean right now. Princess Annabelle had decided to take Bonnie off of the distraint system, and Bonnie had attempted to kill her. Bad move on Bonnie’s part; it just confirmed my assessment that she shouldn’t be let out of the house without a keeper.
Annabelle, of course, wasn’t hurt. I’d come to the conclusion a long time ago that the higher ranks had some kind of robotic protective system that wasn’t obvious to the naked eye, and I hadn’t looked further. As a retired professional assassin, I wasn’t taking any new contracts, and I’d learned a long time ago that the person who could make inquiries without leaving ripples mostly existed in the pages of cheap fiction.
A quick look showed that they were in High Priestess’ Annabelle’s apartments in the Hercules’ cult building, and that Bonnie was out cold on the floor.
Checking all this didn’t take all that long, but it was long enough that Terri was looking at me curiously.
“This can wait a few hours,” I told her. “How would you like to see how they make ponies around here?”
“That is on the priority list, isn’t it? What’s the urgency, though?”
“Someone you don’t know just tried to kill Annabelle. We’re going to teleport over and secure her, and then take her to one of the pony training stables.” She stood up, and a moment later we were in Annabelle’s apartment.
Bonnie was beginning to stir, so I flipped her over and secured her hands behind her, shoved a gag in her mouth and put a hobble on her feet. Then I pulled her to her feet. She tried to go limp on me, and I used a pain hold. She screamed into the gag, and then stood unsteadily on her feet.
“What,” Annabelle asked, “was that all about? I thought she’d tamed down.”
“Apparently not,” I answered. “I’ve got one question I didn’t ask during the original interrogation that I’m real curious about, though.”
I spun the luckless wench around so I could look her in the eye and asked her. “Who killed your father?”
She tried to clamp her mouth shut around the gag. I unfastened it and yanked it out. “Answer me right now!” She kept her jaw clamped, so I put some pressure on another pain point. That brought her to her knees, howling.
“I did, damn you,” she sobbed.
“I thought so,” I said as I held the gag in front of her, a thumb resting on the pain point. She opened her mouth sullenly to accept it.
“Chutzpah is a word in an obsolete language that’s still occasionally used to mean bald-faced effrontery. The explanation I like best is that the young man kills his parents, and then pleads for mercy on the basis that he’s an orphan.”
Annabelle giggled, which surprised the heck out of me. Then she relaxed. “I suppose that’s as good a word as any. It’s just been too long since I’ve been involved with violence. Now what do we do with her?”
“Turn her into a pony, what else?”
Annabelle looked surprised.
“She deliberately decided, against all of our advice, to come to this enclave rather than take her lumps on Freehold. She attacked her owner; she gets turned into a pony. In one sense, it’s a waste; she’s a real good cook and housekeeper, but if we can’t trust her to behave, she’ll spend the rest of her life as a pony until she gets put down because she’s too old to pull a cultivator.”
She sighed. “I thought we’d be able to get rid of the pony practice.”
“So did I originally, but it’s in their hands now.” I pulled Bonnie back up and pulled the slip knot that held the shoulders of her slave tunic together. It fell to the floor, puddling around her feet in a black and white mass as I used her arm to push her toward the door.
“True,” Annabelle said, ignoring Bonnie. “Watching your children grow up and take control of their own life is always wrenching.”
“Meanwhile,” I changed the subject, “You’re going to need a new maid.”
“You’re right,” she said, eyeing Terri. “I suppose I shouldn’t take Terri from you, though. She’d be perfect in some ways, but she’s too good to spend her life as a maid.”
“We could go shopping at Skodarian’s,” I said, a slightly malicious gleam in my eye. I saw Terri stiffen.
“I suppose,” Annabelle said, “I really should give up my animosity toward him, but I’m not really ready to talk face to face with that creep, at least without killing him. You do the shopping. See if you can find one that I can take with me to Ancient Egypt as well, and that has a reasonable chance of coming with me when I retire without wanting to jump ship early.”
“Hummm…” I said thoughtfully. “That might be hard, seeing how thoroughly he’s got them programmed by the time they’re ready to sell. Terri was a complete accident, and I have no idea how you acquired Sherry. I’ll see what he’s got in inventory,” I finished up brightly. “Let’s get this one to where we can correct her obvious deficiencies.”
“Deficiencies?” Terri asked.
“She’s missing hooves and a tail,” I said, deadpan. “Hopefully, they’ve delivered our ponygirls.” I propelled the soon to be ponygirl that used to be named Bonnie out the door, past the small crowd of spectators that had been attracted by Bonnie’s scream. She walked out docily enough, possibly motivated by my thumb on one of her pain points.
When we got outside, we found two ponygirls and chariots ready. Donny Brooke was harnessed to one, as I expected, and the other was a ‘girl I didn’t recognize.
“You take Donny Brooke,” I told Terri as she made to head for the other ‘girl.
“I want to take this thing with,” Terri gestured at Bonnie as she switched her destination. “I’ve got something to tell her that she might not know that will affect how they treat her.”
“In some ways,” Terri explained a bit elliptically, “this is a primitive warrior culture. Those cultures usually have a code about dying well.”
“I see,” I said. “Well, much as I think Bonnie is a dead loss to humanity, she does deserve a shot at making her last impression as a reasonable facsimile of a human being a good one. Take her with and tell her what you think she needs to know.”
In due time, and one teleport later we arrived at one of the places where they turned abject failures, rejects, rebels and other inconvenient people into human ponies. At first glance, it didn’t look all that different from the training stables back in Freehold City. At second glance, there were quite a few differences. The ponies, for one thing, had real hooves on all four legs, horse type tails and pony ears. More to the point, there were a number of exercise windlasses set up, with the ponies hitched to them and doing their eternal circles in the sun. It seemed to be a fairly even mixture; half of them were straining two footed at the bars, and the other half were shoving their padded shoulder harnesses forward on all four hooves. The overseers weren’t being real liberal with the whips, but they weren’t holding back, either.
Our two ponies both had their ears back, but they weren’t quite balking either. Clearly, they didn’t like the place. I can’t say I blamed them; I wasn’t planning on spending my vacation time back at the Freehold City pony training stables, either.
We tethered the two ponygirls to a hitching rack, and Terri pulled our reluctant guest out of the well of her chariot. A couple of men walked up.
“New ponygirl, I take it,” one of them said. “You must be Running Flame. What did this one do?”
“Tried to kill High Priestess Annabelle,” I said shortly.
“Talk about stupid,” he said, shaking his head in reluctant admiration. “Annabelle’s not exactly well liked, but her reputation is for being excruciatingly fair. And something certainly protects her from attacks, so she doesn’t really need to be that punctilious about it.” He looked at me as if hoping I’d illuminate a minor mystery.
I shrugged. “The gods put us here to do their work, not to puff up our own importance. They set the standards of conduct we have to live up to.”
“Well, let’s be about it,” he said. “The ritual area is over here.” He walked around the side of a building, the rest of us following.
At first glance, it was a rather unlikely ritual area. It looked like a corral, complete with post and wooden beam construction, and a swinging gate, currently open. The unusual thing about it was a black cylinder standing on a weathered concrete pad to one side. He walked over to the cylinder and did something I couldn’t quite see from where I was standing. What I did see, though, was quite enough. A barely visible shimmer formed inside of the boundaries of the corral, leaving a clear space by the open gate. I had no doubt that whatever was inside wasn’t going to get out.
“Remember what I told you,” Terri told the naked woman in her grasp. She let her loose and took the gag out of her mouth.
Bonnie looked around her, hands still tied in the small of her back, and then squared her shoulders and walked into the corral as if she was going to her execution. The corral gate swung shut behind her, and the barely visible shimmer completed the circle.
She turned and spat into the dust. She almost looked like she was standing with her hands on her hips, staring at us, even though they were still tied firmly behind her. She opened her mouth and started to curse us out. She started slowly, but after a moment she warmed to the subject. I learned things about my parent’s sexual habits I’d never known, and then she started to get creative.
“Pretty good,” the man standing by the cylinder said. “Well, she’s starting to repeat herself.” He did something, and suddenly a thick fog sprang up and surrounded Bonnie. Her voice cut off as if someone had snapped the switch, as indeed they had. It stayed there for a while, a weird blue light shining from the depths, and then blew away, vanishing like a morning fog. Bonnie stood there on four hooves, tail drooping behind her and long ears cocked forward. She looked around in puzzlement as the other man swung the corral gate open and walked toward her, halter in his hand.
I shook my head. “How did they do it that fast?” I asked no one in particular.
“I have no idea how it works,” the first man said. “I’m told Bess put it here, and I just hope it keeps working because nobody I’ve ever heard of can fix it if it breaks.”
“The sorcerers of Freehold are looking into it,” I told him.
“Good. When they do, there’re a few things they might think of changing,” he said slowly, as if testing the water.
“That’s one of the things I’m here for,” I said. “Tell you what; I’ll leave Terri here for a few hours while I take care of another errand. You can show her around and tell her what you’d like changed.”
He crooked an eyebrow.
“Terri’s my assistant, and she spent quite a few years on a working farm before I got her. She knows ponies about as well as anyone who’s not a professional groom.”
He looked at her with a bit of a leer, and crooked an eyebrow in my direction.
I shrugged. “As long as she enjoys it, but she’s probably not your type. She’s one of Master Skodarian’s fine products.”
The leer vanished as he nodded. Terri asked him a question, and they walked off together, talking. I saw the other man leading the ponygirl who had been Bonnie off in the other direction. I untied my ‘girl from the hitching rack and headed her down the road. It wasn’t that far to Master Skodarian’s, so I decided not to teleport.
Well, that took care of one loose end, and we’ve seen how they manage to make ponygirls (and ponyboys.) However, it just raises more questions. How is this mess ever going to get resolved in the final exciting episode of Gor Meets Amazonia?
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