Slave World 2 - The Ties That Bind Read Free

with the fact that I’d started growing body hair again. It was no doubt a side effect of my pony conversion failing in the long run, barely noticeable at first, but growing progressively worse over the last month. That inconvenience, along with having a strong, pungent scent after perspiring heavily, left something to be desired in my world of feminine perfection.
    I deftly stripped out of my hot, slimy gear letting it fall in a lazy pile in the lush grass at my feet. The only reason I wore it instead of going for the welcome comfort of au natural, was for the stiff boob support it offered; I really didn’t feel like knocking myself silly so early in the morning. Maybe F cup breasts weren’t all they were cracked up to be, outside of the realm of sex. Don’t get me wrong, I love my tits, but… I wonder what Nathan would think if I got a slight reduction, maybe just a size or two?
    Stop being so naïve. He’s a man, what do you think? He loves you only for your body, just like all the others, and now that I’m a pony… Take away those big tits, perfect body, and pretty face, and what do you have? Just a silly, ignorant, inbred whore who will fuck anything willing to crawl between her legs.
    The sound of hundreds of morning birds gradually came to life around me in the peeking sun, while the nocturnal predators on the other side of the boundary fence fifty meters away retired to their lairs for the day. The agro-bots were already out and about down in the orchards, flitting around fruit-laden trees like metallic hummingbirds, and the ranch guard force would be going through a shift change in less than an hour. The slight hum of one of their two-seater hover jeeps faded to an idle not far away, unseen through the dense foliage.
    I say we go fuck them… fuck them silly. You’ve seen the way they look at us; they all do. I know you want to do it, and he would never know.
    “Nathan,” I sighed.
    He had them keeping an eye on me night and day like personal bodyguards, especially when I was near the perimeter fence by myself. The concern on his part was sweet, but it got old after a while. Most times I felt like I was being stalked by a mob of armed paparazzi with itchy trigger fingers. All I had to do was cry wolf, and the jungle would explode around me like a planetary assault. It kind of defeated the purpose of why I came to my ‘secret’ spot after my morning run, I may not be able to see them, but I knew they were there. They were always there.
    I guess it wasn’t really a secret, but it was a special place for me just the same, secluded and tucked away from the world where I came to be alone and think. I was particularly fond of the small waterfall and pond, and why’d I’d been drawn to it from the very beginning; it reminded me of being down by the river when I was kid. It was just a matter of seeing to a few minor details, and I had my own little slice of private paradise.
    It was actually a natural pool with a snaking stream that led off into the jungle and not manmade. The waterfall itself was created from a light shower cascading down a rocky cliff face, and fed from some unseen source on the other side of the fence. Of course, this meant I had to install a portable water filtration system upstream; didn’t want any of those nasty aquatic bugs or blood sucking leech sinking their claws into me if I fell asleep. I already had a close call like that once, and was much more careful now. My spot was just outside of the main repulser field that kept the larger vermin and pests away from the ranch, so I guess I have no one to blame but myself.
    Dover-rats really weren’t that inherently dangerous, being three-foot long subterranean herbivores that made annoying and sometimes hazardous tunnels near the surface while groping about for grubs, but their reproductive habits left something to be desired. They were A-sexual and laid larvae-like offspring, and they weren’t picky in the least in who, or what, they