To Not Let Go

Chapter 3.2

As we approached the door to the downstairs, we began to hear what sounded like excited shouting. It was like people were watching a sport of some kind. We arrived behind a line of men cheering and stomping their feet. They were dressed in what looked like simple white togas like I had seen in pictures of Ancient Rome.

We stood there for a moment, then one of the men turned a bit and caught sight of us. “My friends!” he exclaimed, almost musically. “You appear to be new here!” He spoke animatedly until he caught sight of me. "Child! What are you doing dressed so shamefully?"

A centurion must have heard because he turned and looked at us. "What!?" He hurried toward us, followed by several more, and grabbed my arm roughly. Another saw Paula and caught her in the same way. A third pulled his sword when it appeared that John was going to fight.

"You allow your women to dress like this?" the one with the sword was shocked. "Take these to the cells."

They led Paula and me away, while the men went in another direction. As we were dragged, I caught sight of a chariot. An honest to God chariot! It was black with gold trim, and it was moving swiftly. What was strange, however, was that four women were pulling it! They were naked, except for some kind of hat with feathers, and odd boots that looked like horse hooves. They had bits in their mouths, and each was wearing a bridle. Their arms were tied together behind their backs, and they were running all out. The chariot driver was using a whip and yelling for them to go faster.

Paula and I looked at each other, our eyes wide.

We were led to a room where there was a post and a man with a whip. I was scared. They fastened Paula to a ring on top of the post and ripped her clothes off. A guard who could see her front gasped. "It's a pony!"

“I’m not a pony!” Paula yelled at the guard.

The man with the whip walked around and saw her pubic area. "This is some kind of trick," he said. "It can't talk."

“What about that one?” asked the guard.

Two of the men grabbed my arms and pulled them around the front of their bodies. Then they leaned me forward, so I couldn't fight them. Another man ripped my clothes off from behind, then I was pulled straight up.

“Another pony!”

I tried to argue with them, but something was fastened around my head, and a bit shoved into my mouth. My arms were tied behind my head, and the strange horse hoof shoes clamped onto my feet.

While they were doing this to me, I saw Paula receiving the same treatment. Once they were done, We were led off to what appeared to be an auction block.

Sure enough, they were auctioning off several 'animals' They were obviously all women. Still, some had extra breasts and were referred to as cows. Others were covered in some kind of 'wool' and were sheep. There was a wide variety, but the ponies were the only ones that looked like normal women. It was no wonder they thought of us that way. What I couldn't figure out were the women we had seen on our way here. They were obviously women, but.

It suddenly hit me. Amos liked men. He was offended when I turned out to be a real woman. The boy he had taken to be his nighttime toy was made to be as feminine as possible. They called us ponies when they saw us naked. All the 'women' we had seen were males that Amos had feminized!

I was led up to the platform, and I wondered what the ‘women’ thought of the situation. I looked around but received a lash on the back with the whip. "Straight ahead, you damned beast!” the man with the whip commanded. He didn’t have to tell me twice.

“This pony," the auctioneer yelled, "was found with its previous owner as he was watching the races. He has been taken to the circus where he will fight the lions. He had his pony wearing male clothing!"

The crowd roared their displeasure. “What am I bid?” the auctioneer shouted.

The bidding started in earnest, and it seemed to go on a long time. Finally, it settled between two men who appeared to be quite wealthy. They went up and up, and then one was forced to drop out. The other one motioned for a servant to go and collect me, apparently, and I was led off the platform to him.

As I was led down, I heard the same story being told. Obviously, Paula was being sold. I was not able to tell who 'bought' her, though, as some kind of blinders were fixed to my face, which didn't allow me any peripheral vision, then I was led off.

We passed through the connecting tunnels between several bays. Eventually, we went through the U corridor, which took us through to the outside section of a bay. We were upside down from where he had been, but the gravity made it impossible to tell. As I was led into a stable, I heard men shouting commands, and whinnies, interspersed with the occasional crack of a whip. I hated to think that those whinnies were women, just like me.

I was backed into a cramped stall, and a rope was fastened to the halter I was wearing. It was then wrapped around a hook above me and out of my reach. The gate was shut, and I was left alone.

I took stock of my situation and saw that it was terrible. My arms were still uncomfortably fastened together behind my back, so I couldn't reach anything to release myself. My feet were incredibly sore in the boots. The stall wasn't big enough for me to sit down, let alone lay. Also, the rope that fastened me to the ceiling was only sufficiently short for me to get a mouthful of hay or some of the filthy water in the trough.

I guess it was nearly two hours later that my ‘new owner’ arrived. He had a bucket of something that he set down on the floor, then he opened the gate.

I tried to tell him that I wasn’t a horse, but I couldn’t speak clearly around the bit that was still in my mouth. I received a slap on the backside for my efforts.

“I’ve been told that you somehow speak. I’ve never seen a pony that speaks, nor do I need one. The next time you try, you will receive the whip. Is that clear?” Then he laughed. “Look at me, thinking that you can understand me.”

Once more, I tried. I didn't want the whip, but I did want free. True to his word, the man disappeared for a moment and came back with a strap. There was not much room in the stall, but somehow, when the thing touched my backside, it was excruciating. As he clipped it to the railing just within my vision, I saw that it had electric contacts and some kind of triggering mechanism on the handle.

“Don’t make my turn it up,” he told me. “You’re a valuable Buckskin, and I don’t want to do any lasting damage to your hide.”

“That wasn't the highest setting? Shit! I really didn't want to feel it any more powerful. I decided that when this asshole was near, I would do my best to act like the other 'ponies.'

To try it out, I gave a little whinny, and he laughed. “Good pony,” he said. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an apple and knife. He sliced the apple into sections and held it up to my face. It was hard to eat with the bit in my mouth, but I tried.

“Oh! I'm gonna have to talk to my stable boy. He was supposed to take that bit out." He reached up and unhooked it from the bridle, and set it on the stall railing, then gave me some more apple. I felt ridiculous standing there naked, eating an apple from the hand of someone who thought I was a pony, but I had to do it.

When I had finished it, he poured something from the pail into the hay trough. Oats. He shut and locked the gate, took his equipment, and left. Once more, I was alone except for the 'ponies' around me.

I looked around, but I didn't see anyone familiar. There were some women in another section that looked odd. They were quite large and seemed to be bent over at the waist. I wondered what they were supposed to be, but I couldn't get a good look, and it was getting dark anyway. It seemed cruel to me, as the owner had come in wearing a jacket, and here we were, standing naked.

I was very sore the next morning. My arms were numb from being in their position for so long, and my feet were killing me. I desperately wanted to lie down so I could sleep, but it didn’t look like any of the ponies were allowed that.

Apparently, the other women had gotten used to it. They seemed energetic when the owner came in, followed by some other men.

“They’re frisky today,” one of the newcomers commented. “Must be the new one. Have you decided what You’re going to call it, Hal?”

“Rose, I think.”

“That’s an odd name for a pony.”

“I had a dream last night. There was a woman in it who looked remarkably like this pony, named Rose.” He laughed. She was in some position of authority.”

The others laughed as well.

So there is something of their real selves left, I thought to myself. I wonder if we can get through to them.

One man disappeared for a moment, and he brought back what looked like some calipers. He measured my arms and my waist at various angles, then left.

“You’ll find that I’m a nice owner, Rose.” He patted my cheek. “I use Irons on my expensive ponies. Much more humane than the binders.”

He walked away, and I wondered what the hell irons were.

I didn’t have much time to wonder, however. A few minutes later, a man came in. He pulled the rope fastened to my halter tight, and then put a stool on the ground in front of me. He took a tool and removed the clamp from my boot, which promptly fell off my foot.

“What the hell?" he murmured. "Oh well. Have to fasten it the other way." He looked up at me and said, "Sorry about this, Rose."

He clamped the boot back on, then took out what looked like a drill. It was. I screamed as he drilled through my lower leg and then jammed a bolt through it. "Sorry," he mumbled as he drilled another hole through my foot and fastened a bolt. Then he brought out a wire feed welder and proceeded to weld the bolts and nuts into place. I passed out.

When I awoke, both feet were throbbing, but at least it was bearable. My bots must be working on healing them.

I fell asleep again and woke up when I heard someone opening the gate. I looked to see what was in store for me now and saw something new, which scared me more than anything I had been through already. They were holding some time of metal corset with attachments for my arms to be fixed behind me.

They removed the bindings from my arms, which were too numb to fend them off, then I heard them put some clamps over them. What scared me most, however, was when I saw the same drill. My arms were numb, but I still felt the drill bit go through. Once more, I passed out from the pain

When I awoke, I knew I was welded into the corset. My sides felt burnt, and I couldn’t bend my waist. So this was the Irons., It was more humane than the bindings? Really?

I didn’t know how long I had been here now. Was it hours? Days? There was no way I could be sure. A man came in and hooked a lead up to one of the bigger women. “Come on, Belinda,” He said. She moved forward, and he told her, “Good horse.”

So she was what they considered a horse. Wait a minute. He called her Belinda. Was this the same Belinda I knew? I looked at her face, and I felt sick. It was! This was Rashda’s wife!

Her arms were longer than they should be, and they were fastened into boots as were her feet. She had a metal corset welded on as well, At the base of her spine, a tail was hanging.

The stable hand led her to a spot near my stall and brought out a saddle. He placed it on her back and fastened it around her middle, then led her out.

I felt sick. This was the first person I recognized here, and she was transformed into something non-human.

I had been a pony for a long time, of that I’m sure. I had been trained as a pony, and even took part in a couple of chariot races. My owner was happy with the way I was working out and rewarded me well. I was given oats whenever I behaved appropriately.

Whenever he called me Rose, something triggered in my mind, but it was getting less and less each time. I was coming to believe that I had always been a pony.

Then, one day I was led out of my stall and hitched to a single pony buggy. My owner took me a long way, through winding city streets, and eventually to some enormous building. He unhitched me from the carriage and tried to lead me up the steps to the building. I balked. I had never climbed stairs before. He reached into his jacket pocket, where he kept an abundant supply of apples and sugar cubes and held one of the cubes up to my mouth. I eagerly ate it, and he backed up a step. This time, I followed, and we eventually made it up.

When we got to the massive doors, the centurion there exclaimed, “You can’t bring that thing in here!”

“I’ve got orders from the emperor himself.”

“I doubt that!”

“Are you calling me a liar?” My owner’s hand went to his sword.

The centurion placed his hand around the pommel of his sword as well.

“And what are you going to tell the Emperor when he finds that you didn’t let me follow my orders?” My owner asked the centurion.

The bigger man looked confused for a moment, then thought better of fighting. “Go ahead. If the Emperor doesn’t like you taking the ‘thing’ in there, it’s up to you to explain things to him.” He looked at me with a disgusted expression. “And if it makes a mess on the floor, I will have roasted pony for dinner.”

My owner led me in, and the guards posted at the door to the throne room opened them without question. Apparently, they had heard that I was to come in. I was led to a place standing beside three men. One of them cried out my name as I stopped. I think it was the one beside me.

I heard the crack of a whip, and I shook. I hadn’t felt one for a long time, and I didn’t want to now.

I stood there, nervously for several minutes. Finally, I heard another pony's shoes clicking as it walked up beside me. I tried to turn my head to see it, but my owner wouldn't let me.

I was confused. I recognized the voice of the man who had called my name. Why?

A moment later, everything flooded back to my mind. A man white as quartz entered the room. He turned to look at us, with disdain on his face.

Amos!

I knew who was beside me now, on both sides. Paula was on my left, and John, my husband, was on my right. I had been a pony for so long that I forgot reality!

Amos looked at me and smiled. “So, Rose, how do you like being a pony?” He turned slightly to take in Paula. “Did you like my present for you, Paul?”

Neither of us could speak with the bits in our mouths.

Amos turned and moved back to the throne. The legs were designed to look like four women, carved out of wood, with the seat positioned on their heads.

“Is this your pony, my Lord?" my owner asked the bastard as he sat on the throne. I was sure I heard one of the wooden women moan as he sat.

They were real women, I realized.

“It is now,” Amos told him. “The other one too.”

“My Lord,” cried Paula’s owner, “I paid good money for this pony.”

“And I’m taking it for tribute!” Amos responded angrily. “You’re damned lucky I don’t demand your life for insubordination!”

He stood and walked to the edge of the dais. “Begone! Both of you!”

Hal, as I remembered his name to be, didn’t challenge Amos at all. The other man bowed stiffly and left.

The self-proclaimed Emperor turned and walked back to his throne. As he sat, the woman moaned again. Amos stood and looked down at her. He clapped his hands, and someone came in quickly. "This leg is defective. Replace it, then put the old one in the incinerator. There is no need for a leg on my throne to make noise like this."

The man exited, and a few minutes later, he led out a girl who looked about thirteen years old. He had her kneel in the same posture as the others and touched a control on a remote. The girl quickly transformed into wood like the rest of them.

I watched as he removed a very long bolt from the chair that had obviously gone into the girl's wooden head, then exchanged them. He put the bolt in the new one, and Amos sat down.

“As you have probably noticed, I have very little respect for women. I see no reason for them at all as I can make any obedient person with my bots. Women are superfluous.

“You, John, are who I always hated. You and your smug manner." He looked back at me. "You were so easy to manipulate, Gene. I always knew you would be. You always seemed to care when we were children. You being female now, just made things easier. Your emotions on your sleeve could be used so easily."

“All of you present a challenge to me. You have disabled your connection to my nanobots. I applaud you. However, sheer force can overcome you.”

He clapped his hands again, and the man who had replaced the girl as a chair leg returned. Take the ponies and turn them into…. Let's see. It has to be something where they are restrained. Ah, yes. Put Rose into the new chandelier and Paula. Let's see. What to do with Paula." He eyed her for several minutes. Finally, he said, "Surprise me but make sure she cannot move. I don't want any still life decorations moving."

With that, he stood, and shouted, "Return the men to the games."

Then Paula and I were out of the throne room.