CHAPTER ONE: A LITTLE LIGHT ENTERTAINMENT
Stephen smiled as he watched the trembling and naked slave. She had improved; even in
the short time he'd owned the slut he could see that there had been some improvement. She
moved with a subtle touch of sensuality and fear but that was only the beginning of
things. By the time he was through with her training, she'd be exquisite. She would
become a pure slave, unable to be anything but a slave, even if she was given a chance to
change her life.
His cock twitched beneath his pants.
Perhaps she'd make a good Bitch? She'd need training, of course, but would it work?
No – she didn't have that spark that a Bitch needed. They had to show a touch of
dominance, if nothing else, toward women. This one lacked the ability to dominate women.
Still, she'd be a well trained pony by the end of the month.
Yes, that's all he needed, a month and she'd be the pride of the Island. A touch of
the whip at the right moment, the feel of the reigns and bit in her mouth... yes, it would
all work very well indeed.
Branding. Yes, she'd need to be branded at some point. All of the fillies were marked
in some means or other. Brand or a tattoo, either would work, but the brand would have a
deeper, more lasting impression on the slave.
It wasn't a decision he had to rush into.
The slave whimpered as she kissed and licked at his boots.
He sighed in pleasure and then frowned. The tail was absent. A horse without a tail
was a sad sight indeed.
The missing plug was a problem. It would have to be replaced soon, before she was
taken out into the training circle. She couldn't go out like that as he'd be a laughing
stock as soon as someone realized he'd let her get away without a tail. He'd worked too
long to gain his position and hadn't backed down when the dissent had been brought to
light the day before.
No, they'd see a well groomed and presented pony when he took her out for training.
The plug would need to be cleaned before it was reinserted, but that wouldn't take long.
In fact, he'd enjoy pressing the plug deeply into her tight little ass.
Her long blonde hair tumbled over her face as she lowered her head to his boots, her
lips pressed against the dark, smooth leather. His cock twitched beneath his pants and
all thoughts of the trouble of the previous night were banished with the beautiful sight
he now beheld. Her naked flesh showed signs of the night she had spent in the stall.
Small pieces of straw clung to her hair and shreds of chaff decorated her back.
The only thing she wore, apart from the refuse of the stall, was her collar. That's
all she needed. Slaves were best if they were kept nude. Clothing protected them far too
much. No, he might indulge in a ribbon, ropes, or chains, but not clothing. Not unless
the hoof boots counted as clothing.
She moaned and moved her lips from one boot to the next, kissing, licking them, trying
to clean them as she knelt at his feet. Her hair shielded her face, hiding her features.
But he didn't need to see her face to know the emotions that even now played across it.
Fear, loathing, need and desire would all mingle in her eyes. Her needs didn't matter.
Only his.
"Good, very good, but that's only a start. Isn't it, slut? What else can you do, hmm?
How else can you attract my attention? If you were a true slave instead of a pony, I'd
have you dance for me, but that's not possible as you're just an animal." He mused,
smiling as he watched her.
She whimpered and glanced up at him through the veil of her hair. Then she looked
away, quickly, knowing she hadn't been given permission to look directly at him.
"Think quickly, slave. I'm not in the mood to wait on you."
She moaned and tried to pull away from his feet, then forced herself to stop, to hold
position even as a low tremble ran through her nude form. Dancer lowered her head fully,
pressing her forehead to the floor of the stable.
She doesn't know what to do – interesting…
Most of the slaves at least had an idea. Not this one. Was she really that innocent?
Obviously not now, not in the bodily sense, but her mind – yes, of course, she hadn't
explored the more sensual sides of her nature before she had been brought to the Island.
That would make it even more interesting to train her.
She no longer had the body of an innocent, and it was better that way. But her mind.
Her heart. Oh yes, her very soul could be corrupted beneath his hand. She'd be his.
Truly and utterly his.
His cock throbbed almost violently. He bit back a groan as he looked down at her,
quickly deciding what he needed to do.
"Hands and knees, slut, now!"
She flinched at the order, but obeyed without another sound. Her back arched as she
parted her thighs, her head low, hair covering her features as she held position for him.
He needed her and needed her now. There was no waiting. There was no need to wait,
not with her sweet cunt now exposed to his view. A quick, hard fuck, then a touch of the
crop before he took her out to be washed down and put through her paces again. Yes,
that's all she needed. It would serve as a double reminder of her place in life.
Stephen opened his pants and dropped to his knees behind her. She whimpered at the
touch of his hands on her hips. The whimper only added to his growing need to fuck her.
It was such a sweet sound.
Stephen shook his cock free and grinned. Her cunt lips pouted between her thighs and
he didn't hesitate any longer. He was ready. He settled the head of his cock between her
cunt lips and thrust. Her slick inner walls rippled around his cock. He groaned at the
feel of her pussy massaging his prick.
She moaned, her head low to the floor as he buried himself into her slick, hot body.
Her breasts swayed with each thrust as he pounded into her. The hot, slick sounds filled
the air. His cock swelled within her cunt as he thrust into her, deeper by the minute.
His. She was his. It didn't matter that she wore an Island collar. No, in his eyes
she belonged to him.
His balls tightened against the base of his cock. Sweat beaded across his body as he
thrust into her. He didn't hold down, but pounded into her, forcing a jolt through her
helpless body. Her breath came in short gasps.
It wasn't enough. He needed to hear a scream from her. A cry of pain or something
else that would tip him over the edge.
He growled and lifted one hand, slapping her left thigh with a loud crack.
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