The Greenwich Tales
- 3 years ago
- 357
- 0
Mare's Tales - 34 free porn video
Mare's Tales - Chapter 34.
Veronica, Jacqueline, Jennifer, Cynthia. (Names of Centaurs.)
Margaret. (Doctor Friend.)
Bernadette, Jeanette & Susan (Beverly's Older Children.)
Nicholette, Christine & Pauline. (Beverly's Younger Children.)
Jemma, (Jacky's Baby Centaur.)
Whilst the new femi society was evolving there was of course another
group evolving in parallel. As I mentioned in Chapter 30, Jacky and her
centaur friends had been extending the genetic boundaries of
centaurism. Jemma was of course the first true centaur to be born of
Jacky's equine womb. She had been evolved primarily from mainly female
components because my friends had been nervous about introducing any
male genetic elements that may have been affected by the comet's
radiation. However they had been forced to use a frozen sample of my
old sperm to activate the egg's division and provide sufficient genetic
material. This was to ensure a proper chromosome count and avoid
breeding a haploid or freemartin.
My centaur friend's work in reconciling the differential chromosome
qualities of horse and human to facilitate the natural genetic
conception of a true centaur had been a stunning advance in genetics.
It was the clearest evidence yet of my centaur friend's total
satisfaction with their own partially equine condition that they had
been happy to advance with a genetically true centaur.
Jemma had grown to become a delightful child and would eventually
become a stunningly beautiful palomino centaur. Her sleek glossy golden
blond coat complemented her crowning head of ash blond hair and
beautiful flowing tail. We all knew that when she reached maturity,
human heads would inevitably spin and eyes gape whenever she made an
appearance. Her stunning human beauty, more than equaled her graceful
equine, arabesque form.
Jemma was to become everyone's dream!
As my friends and I watched Jemma take her first wobbling steps, we
quickly realised that when Jemma reached a certain age, (Centaurs grew
at the same rate as humans and enjoyed the same biblical 'three score
years and ten'), she would naturally wish for childhood play friends
and in later years, sexual partners. Indeed, it would have been cruel
to deny her what had become (through our actions,) her centaurian
rights.
As soon as I had returned home from my yacht voyage and learned of
Jemma's existence, my friends approached me and requested, nay
demanded, that we use my sperm to do for centaurs exactly what had been
done for humans. They readily recognised that the centaurs would also
be affected by the 'feminism' now inherent in my sperm, but they
equally felt that it was unfair to leave Jemma as a lonely single, and
therefore vulnerable centaur, when my four older friends shuffled off
their mortal coils. (Let us not forget that my centaur friends and I
were not getting any younger.)
We had already moved to ensure the preservation of our genetic science
by introducing our own children to our hard-won genetic secrets. This
had meant spending long hours educating them to our own self imposed
high academic standards. (We also felt we held high ethical standards,
for we had only ever moved to remedy disastrous circumstances when they
had befallen us or others.)
The centaur solution had been our own voluntary decision arising from
my friend's crippling train accident. The Femi sperm decision had been
made because we had spent our student lives avoiding unwanted masculine
attentions and suffered endless attempts to force their way into our
knickers.
Before my friends had finally become centaurs they all had appalling
stories of their time as limbless students at university. One would
have thought that the more intelligent males of the old human species
would have respected a girl's inability to fend off unwanted
attentions but it was not so. All my friends had endured some of the
most grotesque and humiliating offers whilst they had persevered with
their early studies at college. They had all suffered groping, crude
suggestions and in several instances, determined physical efforts,
before one or more of us had managed to arrive in time to prevent a
serious sexual assault by the perverts going too far.
None of my friends had actually suffered rape but it was not for the
want of men trying! It seemed that the old race of human men had never
learned the real meaning of the word, 'NO!'. The femi men development
had been something of a 'get-back' at the old male dominated society.
In youth my centaur friends and to lesser extent, myself had suffered
quite enough at their hands. There was to be no more patriarchal
bullying! We held that because the comet was not of our making then we
certainly could not be held responsible. Any efforts we made to
ameliorate the human race's problems were entirely down to our own
perspectives and us. If anybody wanted to avail themselves of our
services, they would have to abide by our conditions. It was pure luck
that Bernadette, Nicholette and I had been far, far down south in one
of the remotest spots on Earth. It was ironic that I was actually using
that time partly to escape the pressures of an oppressive male society
when the comet had presented me with a heaven-sent opportunity to turn
things around.
Call me a resentful, vengeful bitch if you will, but an individual is
what the world makes him or her. I for one had been tired of the
endless oppressive overbearing attentions of men who thought they saw
an opportunity whenever it presented itself. The fact that my
hermaphrodism was still an issue whenever it came up was proof enough
to me and indeed, my intimate friends. We all held that an individual's
sexuality is strictly his or her own affair!
Ask any woman, (or trannie who can pass,) what it's like to sit at a
bar and simply try to enjoy a drink or watch the screen without
inevitably being pestered by some conceited, sexist, overbearing
(usually drunken,) idiot.
Anyway, what was done, was done. Femies were here to stay and in truth
most of them thoroughly enjoyed their new special status. Except for
the odd 'homosexual femi', a femi's new feminine 'mind set' fully
complemented his physical circumstances.
The mental changes were a huge part of the puberty thing for femies.
As they passed further into puberty and on to full maturity, femies
increasingly enjoyed being femies! They particularly enjoyed rearing
the children!
Our researches into centaurism had also incidentally provided
homosexuals of both the new genders with excellent 'get-out' clauses.
After their astounding success with Jemma, (Jacky's genetic centaur
child,) my friends had taken my sperm and started to experiment with
the femi gene. They wanted to create centaur stallions.
The problem was that a natural stallion was even more aggressive and
competitive than a man and the last thing my friends wanted was a four-
legged rapist able to capture just about anything alive and abuse it.
The trick was to create a centaur with all the gentle caring
attributes of a human femi but enjoying the powerful earth-shattering
physique of a stallion.
If there was one thing my centaur friends relished it was the ability
to hurtle around savouring the ecstatic freedom and joy that their
equinity gave them! Even in their middle years, Jenny, Jacky, Vee and
Cye could still give a wild turn a tremendous speed if the fancy took
them.
Jenny, in particular, would savour the sheer exhilaration that her
stallion's power gave her. I had to confess, it was almost orgasmic for
me to watch Jenny relishing her speed as her long glossy raven hair and
tail streamed out like a banner behind her.
There was now also the wonderful sight of young Jemma gamboling and
prancing playfully on her long stiff foal legs as she bolted to catch
Jenny as they hurtled around the park. Jenny laughing for the sheer joy
while Jemma pursued her scampering and squealing with sheer delight
after first having learned to walk then trot and finally gallop.
Centaur ball games put human football in the shade and there were no
sexual divisions. There might have been different 'positions' on the
field suitable for stallions or mares but that was always the case.
Both rugby and American football, had always provided scope for all
types of physique, but for centaurs it mattered little. All of the four
new centaur genders carried the same attributes of speed and agility.
After a few years we had finally managed to create suitable centaur
stallions. Naturally, because of the femi gene, a third of the centaurs
had fully functional dual genitalia between their forelegs whilst two
thirds of the centaurs had proper vaginas. All centaurs could conceive
and bear offspring through their female parts. This sexuality however
was not always reflected at the equine end of those same centaurs.
Some femi centaurs had a stallion's penis and some 'real-girl' centaurs
had a mare's vagina. Here again the 'social equine split' was one
stallion's penis to every two 'mare vaginas'. This gave diversity to
the sexuality of centaurs that made them the envy of the new humans,
especially the gay humans. In effect there were four differing sexual
variations amongst centaurs.
Like my friends however, all the new centaurs had beautiful female
human torsos and delicate feminine features. This human femininity was
also mirrored in their personalities. All the new genetically
engineered centaurs were gentle caring creatures (Or I should properly
call them individuals!), with intense parenting bonds. Centaurs did not
commit rape, and furthermore they held tremendous affection for the
new human race. There was never to be a case of 'The Sabine women'.
Naturally, (just as they had between my friends and me,) relationships
developed between centaurs and humans.
The laws had to be adapted to accommodate this development, but
centaurs were accorded the same sentient rights as humans after having
long ago proved their humanity in all pertinent matters of life.
Humans and centaurs were to grow up sharing all their pleasures and
passions except for the running abilities of centaurs. No human, femi
or new-girl could hope to keep up with a centaur, whatever the gender.
It was this furious athletic centaur freedom that the homosexual femi's
so admired.
Homosexual femies did not relish childbearing and wished usually to
continue as 'boys. Puberty for them became a nightmare as their bodies
betrayed their sexuality. Some gay femies dreamed only of being able to
imitate centaurs for their speed and athleticism would give them back
their boyhood freedoms.
For lesbian new-girls the same options became attractive. Attachment to
a horse of their chosen sex would retain their athleticism whilst
endowing them with whatever sexual preferences they had concerning the
horse's body.
Thus human gays of either gender could choose to have an additional
penis of vagina courtesy of being grafted to a horse. Our genetic
secrets and our surgical skills were by now extended under licence into
the general community where gay femies and lesbian new-girls availed
themselves of 'The Beverly Hart Clinics'.
Large hospitals sprang up in the main centres of population where our
special reassignment services were in greatest demand. Gay femies and
lesbian real-girls would be seen nervously arriving at the clinic doors
accompanied by a pre-prepared genetically compatible horse of their
chosen sex and colour. All the horses were naturally of the same breed
thus giving the surgically altered centaurs the same attributes as
their naturally bred cousins. Centaur's human heads came to
approximately the same head-height as real girls. This avoided any
induced competition stemming from stature.
It was a real delight to see ecstatic gays and lesbians emerge trotting
from the clinics savouring their newfound athleticism and mobility.
Usually the lesbians chose mares because their femininity would be
compounded in the additional capacity to enjoy female sex, which indeed
most of them preferred. Some 'bull-dykes' however, chose stallions with
a view to engaging in penetrative sex. This percentage was low for it
simply reflected the 'normal' percentages in society.
The same percentages were reflected in the gay femi scene. Most
'masculine gays' chose stallions but the effeminate gays often chose a
mare. Nevertheless, all the femies still carried the 'milk gene' and
their breasts had to be extra well supported as they indulged in their
vigorous newfound freedoms. Fortunately their slender waists and
subsequent frailty were now gone. The main reason being that the gay
femies chose to be grafted onto stallions with the immensely powerful
neck and shoulder muscles of a stallion.
When surgically adapted to the femi's torso, the stallion's powerful
musculature provided superb support for a femi's overly large breasts
and slender shoulders. Thus when the neck muscles were realigned to
provide thoracic and abdominal support. The new newly grafted
individual would be able to display an attractive 'eight-pack'. 'With
their specially adapted bras and reinforced double d cups, gay femi
centaurs invariably savoured their newfound freedom and sexuality.
For an effeminate gay femi with his mincing gait and limp-wristed
behaviour, the choice of a mare's body would be complemented by the
more slender supple flexibility offered by a mare's graceful neck.
They could still indulge their girlish actions and behaviour. All such
'altered' humans enjoyed the same agility, speed and athleticism as a
trueborn centaur.
Another aspect of our genetics was that such altered humans could
conceive a centaur foal if they possessed a mare's body. However the
femi gene was a persistent indestructible factor and it affected
centaurs child-rearing in much the same way as it affected humans.
Just like their human counterparts, pregnant femi-centaurs would be
found indulging in (what was to them,) the immensely satisfying
practice of breast-feeding any young centaur foal that chose to suckle.
One would see them in the same maternal groups either lying down with
the helpless newborn centaur in their arms or standing relaxed as one
or two older, prancing 'foals' tugged eagerly at their large heavy
human breasts. With this similarity a hard reality, the maternal groups
became a mixed up jumble of centaur and human femies all savouring the
lactatious bond with their babies.
Unlike their human counterparts however, femi-centaurs shared the same
spatial awareness as their real-girl-centaur colleagues. It was an
essential factor if they were to enjoy the same physical prowess as
ordinary centaurs.
This same spatial awareness could be returned to gay femies by
implanting the horse's spatial sensibilities into the femi's brain when
they were grafted together. It was one of several important options
discussed before surgery. Invariably all the gay femies attached to
stallions chose the option, and indeed lots of the effeminate gays
attached to mares did as well.
However, perversely, some effeminate gay femies chose to remain
spatially inept for they enjoyed the mothering and breast-feeding
condition still available to them. Not for them the hurly-burly of the
sports field, much nicer to mince and prance like circus horses as they
indulged their double femininity.
Thus were the human femies allowed several alternative outs from the
gentle, fulfilling, delicate state of femi-ism and child rearing if
they wanted it.
It was satisfying or me and my friends to realise that no 'ordinary'
femies ever chose to leave such a happy rewarding condition. Our ideas
about a 'new society' had been proven correct and the proof of the
pudding was in the eating. The breast-feeding and mothering rewards of
femi'sm were just too delightful for the vast majority of human femies
and natural born femi centaurs.
During my middle years, one my greatest delights was watching the young
centaurs growing up. I considered Jemma to be my own daughter, for the
masculine components of her conception had been achieved with my sperm.
Additionally it was wonderful to watch Jacky savouring the total
satisfaction of being able to indulge all her female characteristics,
especially when one considered Jacky had been born a boy with severe
sexual dysphoria. Our efforts had come a long, long way.
So it was that the new society evolved throughout my middle years. I
was now able to sit back for a while and savour what I considered my
successes as my children matured around me.
With wealth and friends in abundance, there was little more for me to
seek. My story must end here unless my circumstances change in the
future. I hope you have enjoyed this story.
Bye for Now, Beverly
Author's note. There is another story gestating called Mindful. This is
a brutally dark, cathartic, autobiographical faction, (part fact, part
fiction,) with no romantic pleasant ending.
Hortense
- 09.11.2020
- 46
- 0
