Chapter 5

We were naturally transported on the small float just as we had been before but this time it was to the showground. This was much as any large city showground with the usual rides for the children, sideshows and animal exhibits. We were one of these. The prince had decided that the three of us would be exhibited, Black Beauty because of his stature and muscular perfection as well as his handsome, noble-looking face; Muscles because as a human gelding he was something of a rarity (as well as being ultra-handsome and exquisitely athletic); and me, (in retrospect) probably because I was Sebastian’s fiancée.

This time, in contrast to the first when I had been too ashamed of my nakedness as I hung from the chain to look around me much, I did look round and now took notice that many of what appeared to be the local gentry were being transported in quite ornate carriages - by teams of naked human ponies. The smaller ones by four; the larger models, that carried four people, by eight naked human beings - all hoofed and tailed as we were. They certainly carried the human pony thing to its ultimate.

But there were others - and now I understood what happened to us when we were past our prime... The older slaves were employed as labourers in various capacities. There were street sweepers and road maintenance gangs, porters carrying huge bundles on their heads or backs, and there were also secretaries following behind their masters holding his papers in a case. How did I know they were slaves? Because each and every one of them was naked, as naked as we were! Each was depilated and had the flowing topknot on his head, although not the bridle any more. Instead, the topknot was held up as a ponytail from his scalp by means of a metal clip some three inches long and out of the top of it, his or her hair flowed back and down his back.

They didn’t have hooves or tails any more either but if anything, their absence underlined their nakedness as human beings even more. With us, the hooves and tails seemed to mark us as human ponies - as animals, more or less; but they were quite clearly human - fully human, and yet were utterly naked, their genital organs on full and open display. I blushed as I realised the implications. That could be me in a few years and I suddenly realised also that whilst I hated being a pony with the hooves and tails, those men and women were even worse off!

How did this small country get away with it? I can’t answer that except to say that I think it must be the oil they pumped out to the West. Our politicians weren’t about to jeopardise that - at least as long as the slavery thing was kept under wraps and I think I realised then, too, that the media must be under some sort of constraint not to blow the lid, as it were. I can’t be sure about any of this but that’s what I think ...

Anyway, after travelling through the streets, we arrived at the showgrounds and were driven right up to the Show Pony pavilion. We were taken in and for the morning, made to stand up on small round wooden blocks some two feet high and there to display our bodies while people moved along in front of us, all staring up at us - the lechery quite openly on their faces. I suppose some of them were legitimately assessing us as to our worth as human ponies (although one has to wonder at the very idea of their public human ponies in the first place - as compared to our English one which was, after all, merely the indulgence of a fetish by a few aficionados) but by far the majority of them were clearly sexually excited by us.

Our little stand had the two boys, Black Beauty and Muscles with me as the single female pony but other owners had more females - fillies as they insisted on calling us - than colts. I suppose that is logical if you accept the sexual nature of our display.

It was a display. We weren’t allowed to just stand there. We had to undulate our bodies so that our muscles rippled, and constantly flex such muscles as our biceps, abdominals, thighs and buttocks so as to make our display more provocative.

The judges moved amongst us at all odd times. It wasn’t just a single judging. Some of them I didn’t even know were judges but they moved from one to the other of us, some openly marking their sheets as they stared up at our naked display, others doing it less obviously.

Of course we had been trained how to present our bodies - and not only their muscles. We also had to show how virile we were (if male) and how sexy we girls were. To this end, the boys had to constantly erect and then slacken their big cocks while continuing to undulate their hips and to flex and relax the muscles in their arms, legs and backsides; while we girls had to make our vaginas gape and then purse closed and to move our hips in as libidinous a manner as we could engineer.

The hooves and tails poking out of our bottoms continued the illusion that we were part animal - human ponies no less and as we moved our feet on top of the wooden block, the clip-clop of the metal shoes on their surface as well as the tail constantly swishing back and forth, perfectly visible behind our thighs, added immeasurably to this illusion.

We were displayed in two rows down the length of the huge building behind ropes that kept the audience some three feet away from us, although of course the judges could move inside the ropes, prowling around us and openly feel our flesh as they assessed our bodies. Behind us were the drapes beyond which Ridha and his men kept their belongings and where was the straw in which we would sleep over the three days of the show but out in front there was just the two long rows of wooden blocks on which a couple of hundred or more of us show ponies stood, each displaying his or her body to the best advantage.

I know as I think of this now, how bizarre it sounds. Humans being exhibited as animals no less. I have been to numerous agricultural shows and have wandered through the sheep and cattle pavilions where the animals were displayed in a very similar way and every time I thought of it back then, I cringed and blushed as I realised that that was exactly what I now was.

I was stark naked, not a stitch to cover my nakedness. My body had been carefully depilated and my head shaved to provide the topknot of a pony tail and then adapted by the addition of a bridle, hooves and a tail to the human pony state after which they had honed and prepared and polished it to perfection. My mind had been conditioned, principally by pain, to accept my new status as a pony and then I had been raced - as naked as I now was in a very public race meeting.

Now, I was just as naked but on show as an animal!

But I accepted it. I had to, as did Black Beauty and Muscles. Dreadful pain followed very quickly if we baulked at their demands. And so I showed off my body as the prince wished and as Ridha and his men had trained all three of us. I flexed my biceps muscles and my thighs. I clenched my cheeks and flicked my tail from side to side. I stamped my feet to make the hooves ring out and undulated my hips while making my vaginal lips open and close.

It was degrading and humiliating and utterly shameful. You may remember I had gloried in shame and humiliation when Sebastian had subjected me to it back in England? Well I certainly didn’t glory in it now. You may also remember that at the time we three were kidnapped, I had been ready to give it up and return to a more normal life as Sebastian’s wife? In other words, my delight in my days as a voluntary human pony had run its course. Now, I had no choice in it at all. I had been kidnapped and enslaved and forced to a much more rigorous regime than back in England - and that had been pretty severe!

Every day in this tiny state in the Middle East was a nightmare, albeit one I had learned to accept. But this ... so public showing of our bodies and its muscles was the worst - or at least the worst up to that time.

All morning we stood there, working our muscles while the crowds moved up and down the wide centre aisle of the pavilion, stopping to stare at a show pony who caught his fancy and then moving on to look at another. The show opened at nine and we thus had three hours of it. Three dreadful hours in which I think I was permanently blushing as I so blatantly showed off my sexual organs to these horrible men...

At noon, they were shooed out by the show stewards and the pavilion locked. We were allowed to jump down off the blocks then and rest for an hour but then it was time for the afternoon events.

I was really dreading these. During the morning, all right we had had to show off our bodies, but at least it was inside, in the shelter of a building and only a dozen or so men could crowd around my spot and stare in at me. This afternoon, we were going to be demonstrating our skills as trotters and prancers and, for those who had been trained for it, as saddle ponies.

We would be parading - not racing this time, around the main arena while judges gave us points for beauty, athleticism and skill as a pony. Now, speed was not the essence but a proper deportment, the body held perfectly erect, and knees properly brought up to the perfect horizontal for the trot and higher still for the prance, were the essential things.

Ridha had trained us well. It’s amazing how pain, the cane applied to the underside of a thigh not raised high enough or across a juddering buttock cheek, soon teaches one to be more attentive to our duties, but I think it was also pride. Although I hated every second I had in that place, I was there - and I couldn’t allow myself to do less than my best. But, as I told myself, it was for me, not Prince Azeem.

Of course that may be a stretching the truth a bit, too. The prince certainly believed in pain as the best teacher around, but he also thought that the carrot didn’t go astray either, especially when awarded sparingly. You will remember how Black Beauty, Muscles and me had been rewarded after our first race wins with a night together? Well he repeated that at times when we gave him reason to - and not only just after a race meeting, either. If, for example, we had shown consistently good times during practice, he might give us another night together. It wasn’t all that often, but enough to make us hope for another such night and as a result, it probably did help to make us work that little bit harder.

The pavilion was closed in the afternoon and the central aisle was now used to harness us to the gigs. These were different from the racing models and were much more ornate - and therefore a little heavier. But we had been trained on much heavier, more utilitarian models still, and these were weighted with heavy concrete blocks to train our bodies to perform at best with the racing and show gigs.

Every part of them was polished to a bright gleam and the drivers who would sit on them were also decked out in the prince’s finest silks.

But Black Beauty was different. As one of the biggest of the prince’s colts, he was deemed suitable as a saddle pony as well as a galloper with the gig races and for the show that was what he was being presented as.

I will try to describe the saddle. It sat up high on his back, over his shoulders really and was belted around his neck and upper waist, just under his smooth broad chest. Its stirrups dangled down from the front so as to apply a more even weight against the pressure of the jockey’s weight on his back but even so, most of the pressure was on his upper back and he had to practise for many hours a day to develop the muscles that would keep him erect as well as able to run at full tilt around the track. As we did with the weighted gigs he practised with double the normal weight of the jockey on his back ...

What did he do with his hands? It was diabolical! He had now to reach even further back so that his hands grasped at the back of the saddle - but it showed off his body beautifully - magnificently, even!

Our riders now mounted Muscles’ and my gigs and Black Beauty’s jockey swung himself up into his saddle and the three of us were led off towards the main arena, all of us clip-clopping along the paved streets of the showground amongst the crowd, some of whom reached out to feel and fondle our flesh as we passed.

Black Beauty’s cock was now properly erect and some of the men we passed grinned and reached down to give it a few friendly tugs! I wondered how he had learned to control it so well. It seemed it was just practice, but it certainly made him look most virile - like a naked African warrior on the prowl - except that he had on hooves and a tail ... Oh, I forgot to mention, they had clipped another fitting onto his bridle so that the jockey had something to hang on to. It was a handle that had been designed to be added to the straps that ran over the top of his head.

My event was first, or at least the first for us three, Muscles was one of only three geldings but Black Beauty and me were each one of a couple of dozen entries in our events.

My forte had been judged as prancing and so I was entered in the fillies’ class for this event. We didn’t prance abreast but in line astern so that the judges and the spectators in the stands could look each of us over as we passed by them. Off we went and as I started, my mind went into top gear to remember to keep my head rigid, my eyes looking straight ahead, without wavering to the side to look around me or up into the stand; to keep my back perfectly straight and my breasts properly thrust out and my elbows well back behind my shoulders, alternately flicking my biceps muscles up into hard balls of muscle and then relaxing them; to raise my knees right up to my chest with each step while at the same time achieving the correct speed for the prance.

It was not easy. Indeed, the prance was a very difficult gait at the best of times. Trotting was hard enough - raising the thighs to the horizontal with each step, but drawing the knees right up to the chest is three times harder and especially so when you are expected to run faster than with the trot! But now it was worse still for we were on show. We were judged by experts on all the aspects I have mentioned and you have to remember our owners were not at all forgiving if we failed them.

Prince Azeem could be kind if we performed, but he could also be ruthless if we didn’t live up to his expectations - and they were always higher than they should be.

Today was the heats. Tomorrow would be the finals. The third day - wait for it, we were going to show off our skills as sexual animals. And on the marks awarded there, as well as those we had earned in the heats and finals, the ribands would be awarded.

You don’t believe it? I’m not surprised. It really is too bizarre, isn’t it? It’s true however and I will detail that most shameful event later.

Right now I was concerned with performing at the prance and I remembered all the requirements. I kept my eyes straight ahead. I thrust out my breasts and I raised my knees up high, right up to my chest. I knew I was presenting a most lascivious sight but I didn’t care. I wanted to avoid the cane or the paddle and this was the only way to achieve that. I felt I did all right as I made my circuit of the arena but I wouldn’t told, indeed no one would be until the results were announced on the third day. I must have done all right, though, for I did make it to the finals.

After being unharnessed, I was allowed to go back to watch Muscles and Black Beauty perform. My Thai friend was a trotter and I must say he looked magnificent as he presented his slender but so beautiful body to absolute perfection. I couldn’t fault him in his presentation but I also had to note that the others in his group were pretty good as well. I didn’t think they came up to Muscles’ standard but then I was slightly prejudiced!

Black Beauty’s display was incredible. I hadn’t seen him with the show saddle on his back before since he practised with an extra-heavy practice model and it was as ornate as our show gigs, with beautiful tooling on the highly polished leather and the metal fittings all bright and gleaming.

Leaning forward slightly - as he had to in order to counter the weight of the saddle and jockey, he looked absolutely stupendous. His chocolate-brown skin gleamed as much as the leather on his saddle and his muscles scintillated in the sunlight as he galloped round the track, showing off his superb body to perfection.

The next day was a repeat of the first, with us on show during the morning and then each competing in the finals of the same events in the afternoon. We bedded down at night in the straw and were cleaned and our wastes removed in rotation in the ablution area at the end of the pavilion.

Not all the slaves were force-fed the dreadful enemas we had to suffer every single day of our lives there and I was jealous that all they had to do was lean against the pole and shed their wastes in their solid form after which their backsides were hosed and cleaned down by their grooms. It seemed the prince thought that if we were clean inside as well as out, it would add to our general health. I doubt it, but then I don’t really know, either.

The last day’s morning followed the first two but then, in the afternoon, we were taken along to the arena for our sex display. I didn’t for one moment believe this had anything to do with our sexual ability. What could that possibly have to do with our fecundity? None at all! I knew very well it was purely a sex show - to gratify the disgustingly lewd morals of those depraved people! An over-reaction on my part, wait till you hear it all ...

Muscles was obviously not a part of that third day’s activities but Black Beauty and I were. Once more we were brought to the arena and were arraigned at the front of a stage that had been constructed facing the main stand. This was packed to the gunwales with people - all men of course, while we were lined up against the front wall of the stage. Since it was six feet high, we were thus below the lip of the stage - or most of it and even Black Beauty couldn’t see much over the top. Even if we had been able to, though, we were made to stand in the usual pose with our backs to the stage, facing the crowd and so we couldn’t see what was happening up on top of it.

As we approached it however I did see a set of the same pillories into which I had been locked for my rape by Black Beauty in England and I shuddered in shame at the memory of that event, thrilling and all as it had been at the time.

Once more the judges inspected our bodies - minutely, as we stood there with our thumbs cuffed to rings placed on the front wall of the stage behind us - and once more I felt that same flood of humiliation as they made us open our mouths wide and poked in with their fingers through the bit to look at our teeth, then went over every other part of our bodies, assessing them. I couldn’t imagine what they had missed from the last such inspection only the day before and the day before that, but there you are ...

Then the call came for the first pair, down at the end of the line and they were led up onto the stage so that the girl (or filly if you want me to be accurate) could be locked down. I’ll skip the rest of what happened then for I couldn’t see what was going on and to describe the yells and cries would be second best.

The time came when it was our turn and Black Beauty and me were led up to replace the pair beside us. Our tails were first removed by our groom and then the official up on the stage curtly gestured to the pillory and I sighed and climbed into it, dropped down onto my knees and placed my wrists and neck into the open slots so they could lower the top half of the bar and lock my upper body in place, right down near the floor of the stage.

They then manoeuvred my ankles into the two remaining holes which of course, pushed my hips up high and exposed both my anus (still pulsing after the removal of the tail and the huge cone-shaped dildo that held it in place) and vulva to the gaze of the men in the stands. Most of them had binoculars of course and although I couldn’t see them now, I felt them trained on my two exposed holes.

During all this, Black Beauty stood to one side, his face forlorn as he thought of his coming second rape of my body (the first had been back in England, when Sebastian had ordered it). He loved me. I knew that and in a way I loved him and Muscles too. When the prince allowed us those times together in the big stall at the end of the row, we made wonderful love together. But this was so different. This was a public ‘servicing’ of my body, ostensibly to show of our joint prowess as sexual animals before thousands of men in the stand behind us, each of whom had paid good money to watch the act we were about to perform.

But Black Beauty knew as well as I did that there was nothing else for it. We would have to perform or face the prince’s wrath and we well knew it would be boundless. No, we would do what we had to and we would do it as well as we could.

I sensed him moving up behind me and then I felt his cock touch at my vagina while the rest of his body laid over my upended one and his hands, free for once to behave as they would, grasped at my breasts.

I felt a wondrous thrill of lust for him and then he was inside me.

He was a powerful lover but also a most sensitive one. He knew exactly how to make me come on cue and he did so now with enormous flair and panache. I could imagine how the crowd was staring at his plunging buttocks for I had seen their glasses trained on the last three couples and strangely, my shame and humiliation was gone and I concentrated on just the sensations that were now coursing through and through my whole body.

They were powerful. Only Sebastian’s love making was better than this - and that was saying something. Black Beauty knew how to string it out too and he did now for Ridha had told us this would bring in good marks. I can’t remember how many orgasms he brought me to. I think it may have been a dozen or so for he was so good a lover they seemed to pile one on top of the other and boy, were they powerful ones!

Then, when he had built up his own libido to an enormous extent, he finally pulled out of me and allowed it to jet - and I mean jet - out over my back, even over my head, to land on the stage way in front of it. I could see it pooling in little dollops in a thin stream that led back to me and I could then feel some of them on my near-naked scalp and up my sloping back to my bottom.

I could hear the cheers in the stand behind me and I grinned. I suspected Black Beauty had eclipsed anything they had seen that day, or perhaps ever before and I hoped my antics as he had made love to me in that very indecent position had been enough to clinch the blue ribbon for us.

Our tails were duly replaced and then we were led down off the stage while the last two remaining couples were led up to perform their little act.

Yes, we won the blue ribbon, Black Beauty and me, while Muscles got a second place. The prince was quietly ecstatic about our wins and once more promised us a session (and perhaps more than one) in the big stall down the end.

We had that night but no more for it wasn’t long after that that Sebastian showed up, was captured and initiated as a pony himself.

He then entered the same training regime as us except that in his case, it wasn’t speed they wanted from him but a finicky attention to detail. With him, they concentrated on form rather than speed and as I watched him trotting and prancing around the track or in the ring inside the gym, prancing under the huge overhead capstan or when his was cock being trained to be as rigid as Black Beauty’s now always was when under training, my eyes misted over with love for my man.

They didn’t let us get together, though. In fact he was kept rigidly celibate by means of an infibulating ring through his foreskin while my nakedness was continuously thrust in front of him. I think they used me as part of his cock control training actually and of course at these times they removed the ring, but no way was he to be allowed actual sexual pleasure. I heard the prince tell Ridha that Sebastian was not under any circumstance to be allowed to come and any time he looked like it during his cock training, they sprayed his genitals with this aerosol that immediately had him screaming in pain - and his cock a shrivelled parody of its former magnificence.

And then they would begin all over again, flaunting my out-thrust breasts and pulsing vagina at him, making me wiggle my tail before his goggling eyes or perform exercises such as body twists that showed me off very seductively until his cock was again at full erection, huge and straining - but then they held up the can of spray and his face turned desperate as he stared from them to me in fear - and in longing.

My heart went out to him. Oh how I wanted to speak to him, to assure him of my love ... not on. The bits stayed there all the time and while I was now used to being permanently bridled and bitted, I still couldn’t speak properly and nor would I when I knew my tongue and vocal cords were at risk if I tried.

The day came when he and I were scheduled to perform at a country show. Yes, in exactly the same way as Muscles, Black Beauty and I had before, even down to Sebastian showing off his sexual skills on the last day.

Now I knew why he had been kept celibate all this time. He would perform with me so much better.

But first he had to show his skills as a show pony. As Black Beauty had before him, he did exceptionally well and I marvelled at how adaptable the British aristocracy was when it came to new circumstances. I suspect this was what made the British such good colonists, anyway, Sebastian performed perfectly, showing off his skill at the various gaits, all executed with faultless attention to detail and I was reminded of the Brigade of Guards, those crack regiments of the British Army who’s skill at ceremonials was second to none, anywhere in the world.

Sebastian was not a guards’ officer but the way he performed out on the track of the arena had me bursting with pride. Yes, pride. All right, I know the prince had shamed and humiliated us all beyond belief and particularly Sebastian, whom he hated above all, as the representative of those who had subjugated his family and others over the last hundred years, but I had long ago decided that the only way I was going to get through this horrible part of my life was to be the best there was among the prince’s slaves and I am sure Sebastian did the same. I know Black Beauty and Muscles had followed my lead in this even though of course we had said not one word to each other in all the months of our slavery there.

And then of course came the moment when he was to ‘service’ me.

From the very first moment Ridha told the pair of us that we would be performing as show ponies I felt this incredible excitement. At long last, after all these months, Sebastian was again going to make love to me - even if it was in that very indecent manner and before thousands of the prince’s people, all of whom would be cheering him on!

The act was wonderful. I made myself forget how I was secured up on that stage so high above the surrounding arena. I put out of my mind the people behind me and I gloried in the feel of my fiancé’s beautiful weapon as he slowly brought it into my body. I wished he could talk to me as he made love to me. I wanted to hear his funny little moues in my ear as his teeth nibbled the lobe. He couldn’t but still he made it last just as Black Beauty had and the event was glorious.

Oh how I mourned when he at last pulled out of me and sprayed his seed all over my shaven head and back ...

Yes, we too won a blue riband and again the prince was pleased - but I didn’t like the gleam I saw in his eyes as he looked us up and down just before we were transported home.