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Snaffled By Stefanie Flowers I had been at Earth's embassy on Imperium for almost three years and was now fully settled in having adapted well to that strange world. What a wonderful and privileged world for men. All women, except those of noble birth, were chattel, the property of men. The really beautiful women became pleasure slaves known as Ancilla; their only job in life being to entertain and satisfy their masters. This meant that, for a small fee, I was able to fully enjoy and sample Imperium's culture up close, if you get what I mean. My sex life had never been so good. I was a member of Earths covert intelligence force, the EIA and had been selected for this posting because I had no emotional attachments; a single man having no wife or relatives back on Earth. For cover I was listed as the embassy's commercial attach?. So far I had received no real assignments but my cover role gave me the perfect excuse to lavishly entertain visiting businessmen, and myself, with the many delights of this world. My head of station was David, a tall, well-built man that looked every bit a native of this world, but is actually he was from Earth. I had an immense dislike for David; arrogant and aloof, just like the men of Imperium except for one important difference. He is gay; not just in the closet gay but very open and matter of fact about it. He liked feminine looking men and was dead out of luck on Imperium. So far, the biggest obstacle to progressing further in my career was my physical stature. Short and on the skinny side, I failed to impress anyone. To project power and exude confidence, you had to have a masculine aura about you. If anything, with my physical stature and longish blonde hair, I looked weak and much to David's delight, a little effeminate. It had been very hard for me to get suitable dates back on Earth and somehow I always seemed to gain unwanted attention from the wrong kind, if you know what I mean. That's why Imperium was such a blast. Ancilla did not have the luxury of choosing their men. They had no choice but to do as bided by their masters. However, life was definitely not perfect. With the prompting of David, I often got a lot of embarrassing ribbing about my looks from the men, especially the native males of Imperium who are arrogant and egotistical. They had just cause to be so for they were all tall, well-muscled slabs of testosterone. At official functions, and even when out on the town with me paying for the entertainment, the Imperium men often made embarrassing comments about me. They said I looked so feminine that I must surely be a woman pretending to be a man. That was not the least bit funny as, on setting up the embassy three years ago, all of the staff's wives had to become Ancilla. They thought it was just an acting role to satisfy diplomatic sensitivities during their stay on Imperium; a world on which there are no such things as wives. One by one, they had all disappeared, sold for profit by their husbands. Even the Ambassadors wife had fallen afoul of Imperium's culture; used as payment for a lost bet on a pony-girl race in which she herself had been forced to compete and lost. She is now a full-time pony-girl, the property of Caesar himself. I was very lucky to be a male and wanted no rumors to the contrary. That is why I went out of my way to show them that enjoying Ancilla was my favorite pastime. Michael, the Ambassador, had called us into his office to discuss an assignment just received by encrypted communique from Earth. I was excited at the prospect of having my first real assignment. It was rumored that Michael was really his wife Michelle; their bodies swapped back on Earth by some kind of matter transmitting device. Of course, that was ridiculous. There is no such technology and absolutely nothing feminine about the Ambassador. He too had frequently ridiculed me saying to other staff members that I would one day make someone an excellent wife. The Ambassador told us to be seated and began to discuss the reason for calling this impromptu meeting. "We have lost track of one of our citizens, a Melissa Davis. Yes, I know that women disappear here all of time without anyone caring. Unfortunately, this one is the daughter of the treasury secretary and we must pull-out all stops to find her. She came to Imperium as a somewhat na?ve tourist seeking titillation by acting the part of an Ancilla for her boyfriend. When the vacation was over she had totally disappeared. Her last known escapade was playing the part of a pony-girl and being raced as the property of her boyfriend. She raced well and may have come under the scrutiny of an underhand racing enthusiast. The stables deny all knowledge of her current whereabouts and claim she left dressed in Earth attire for her scheduled departure at the spaceport. They even have her signature on some discharge papers. Her boyfriend says she was not at the stables when he went to collect her. He suspects that they still have her somewhere locked away from public view. Like a fool, instead of coming directly here to the embassy, he waited a week for her to show up before going back home alone to Earth. It was there that he reported her disappearance to the authorities. He may be innocent in all of this but could have just as easily sold her for a tidy profit and been delaying news of her disapperance." When would these silly girls from Earth learn their lesson I thought. Imperium is a dangerous place for females. They would be wise to leave this world off of their list of places to visit. I suppose the thrill of an exotic dangerous world is what entices them. "This sounds like a case for the Imperium authorities to look into," I said. "We can try to verify if anyone saw her leaving the stables as claimed, but we have no way to prove if she's still being kept there. The authorities can at least take a look at the stables records and perhaps do an inventory of the livestock. She may have already been sold to someone else. In any event, Imperium law will consider her to be someone's property by now. It happens to so many of the tourist girls from Earth." "Going to the authorities will make it much harder to find and release her," interjected David. "The stables are probably well adept at hiding a stolen pony and the authorities don't care. Putting the legal improprieties of kidnapping aside, their rule is once branded a pony-girl, always a pony- girl. Our only hope is to act alone to find and buy her back." "Yes, that's our mission in a nutshell," said the Ambassador, "to locate the silly bitch and bring her safe and sound back home to daddy. To do this we are going to initiate a covert mission led by David. However, we need a volunteer to duplicate Melissa's path to see where it leads. The volunteer may need to remain undercover for up to a year, but that's our only hope." "What's the plan then?" I enquired. "David will impersonate a man whose lover wants to play at being his Ancilla and, later, possibly pony-girl; thus replicating Melissa's path to her disappearance. Hopefully, that should lead us to Melissa." "OK, so what's my part in this?" I asked, thinking that I could easily purchase an Ancilla for the role of David's lover but no-one would believe David to take interest in a woman; let alone have a relationship. "Well, we can't afford news of this investigation to get out so the couple must appear to be completely genuine with a cast iron cover story. Knowledge of this mission is on a strictly need to know basis, we three being the only ones to have that privilege," said the Ambassador. "Yes?" I queried not understanding his equivocating answer. "What the Ambassador is having a hard time saying is that you are to be my lover," said David. "What?" I gasped. Then laughing nervously I exclaimed, "But that would never work. Anyone can see that I'm not a woman." "No, but you have the looks and build of a woman. I know it's rare, but it's been known for men having the appropriate looks and stature to be turned into she-male Ancilla; sometimes even against their will. Our cover story is that you are David's gay lover and a willing participant in taking on a change of lifestyle, so to speak," explained the Ambassador. "Many here at the embassy already think you must be gay, so I'm sure everyone will find it quite natural for you to submit to David as his she-male lover." I was ready to protest that I was not gay when David suddenly interjected "Look Stephen, refusal is not an option here and we don't have any time to waste, so let's get you ready, willing or not." Two security guards were quickly ushered into the room to help 'assist' me in the preparations. Delivered with this fait accompli I had no choice but to accept my fate; resistance was not going to be tolerated. First I was told to strip naked. Threatened with help from the guards, I did so very reluctantly and slowly. "Look, this is voluntary," I protested. "There's no need for chains," I said in a scared voice as Ancilla ankle and wrist bracelets plus a neck collar seemingly appeared from nowhere. I did not know what I found to be the most embarrassing; being naked or dressed in Ancilla chains. "Now it's time to make this official," said the Ambassador. While still trying to protest my predicament a gag was jammed into my mouth effectively silencing me. Placed on a leash, I was led by David out into an unusually crowded dining hall. The crowd was stunned into silence as they saw me led onto a platform and put into a metal frame that held me pinioned at the neck, wrists and ankles. A smiling David then stood by the Ambassador at the podium. "Let me have your attention everyone," announced the Ambassador. "I've called you all here today to make a rather special announcement and to witness a very solemn but happy ceremony. I'm very happy to tell everyone that today David and Stephen openly announce their love for each other. It is an affair that progressed in secret but they can no longer hide their love for each other. To consummate their 'marriage' Stephen has decided to resign his position at the embassy and become David's she-male property." Shamed in front of all my co-workers and friends, I turned bright red in humiliation. There I stood naked, chained and publically exposed as not only being gay, but also of desiring to be someone's she-male. Everyone would believe this lie even after completion of the assignment. I was finished! I could never go back to working at this or any other embassy without the stigma of willingly being some mans' bitch. Stunned looks turned into smiles and laughter. David lent more credence to the deception by leaning over and kissing me on the lips. My shame was too great to bear as I burst into tears and sobs. The crowd cheered and enthusiastically clapped in approval of David's show of affection. "Now, in recognition of their love and to ensure Stephen's fidelity, we will witness his submission to David as a she-male. Henceforth Stephen is no more, please welcome David's lover Stefanie," announced the smiling Ambassador. The crowd cheered as a man walked ceremoniously towards us carrying a six inch long narrow silver tube and a piece satin thread perched on top of a big velvet pillow. The tube was a beautifully decorated piece of jewelry but obviously had a more functional purpose to which I was about to be introduced. David looped a silk thread behind the glans of my penis. The thread was then used to pull my penis through the narrow silver tube until my glans popped out from the other side. David then ceremoniously picked up alarge wicked looking needle, holding it up and showing it to the enthusiastic crowd. There was much applause as he pushed the needle through holes in the tube directly behind my glans. Gagged, I could not scream or vocally curse the smiling bastard. There being no other alternative I simply passed out from the pain. On waking I found my penis now permanently locked into the narrow metal sheath by a large ring piercing. A leash having a light chain had been clipped to the penis ring and was now dangling towards the floor. "There, now you look the part," announced a grinning David, much to the crowd's approval. Both he and the Ambassador seemed to be fully enjoying my predicament. The display being over, the crowd reluctantly dispersed and I was led from the foyer by my penis leash out into the courtyard. My penis still throbbed with pain from the piercing but stood stretched and erect in its metal cage. "Sorry we couldn't use a painkiller," said a cheerful Ambassador, "but it's more authentic if you are treated as a real slave. Don't worry; the piercing has a tracker so we can determine day or night wherever you are on Imperium. I've always thought you a useless bugger but now you have a chance to prove yourself of some value." David just stood there smiling and enjoying the feeling of ownership over me. "OK, let's get the show moving," David said as he yanked on my leash sending a spasm of pain to my penis. Shuffling as fast as I could behind him I tried to keep some slack in the chain as I was hurriedly led up the ramp into a trailer. The journey to the Ancilla training pens took many hours during which I lay in straw trying to sleep and distance myself from the horrendous events of hat day. It was dark outside as we arrived at the Ancilla training pens. I was left in the trailer while David arranged for my admittance with the manager. "My lover wants to fully experience life as an Ancilla. He's always wanted to be a woman so for his sake make him look like as genuine as possible. Use a she-male chastity belt and do something to further feminize her looks. I'll start visiting him, or should I now say her, once the improvements and her training have been completed," I heard David say. "Yes, we can do all of that in about three months. Just so you're sure that's what you want," replied the manager. "There's no going back one its done. What name shall we put on the registry?" "Just name her 'Stefanie'," David replied. I was then unloaded and led away by my penis leash into a very utilitarian room. There, two guards led me to a stock where my neck, wrists and ankles were clamped into position with me standing upright, legs and arms held apart. The manager entered the room and told his aids to go ahead with my complete transition into a she-male. Injections were given into my buttocks and nipples. Then a strong rubber band was looped over a set of pliers and spread open. At first puzzled by what they were doing I soon understood what was going on. In a frenzied panic I struggled with all of my might to get free. This did not change the outcome as the rubber band was looped over my genitals and released off of the pliers. The band tightly constricted my scrotum sack and cut off all blood flow to my testes. In a few days my testicles would just drop off as dead lumps of meat. I was being gelded and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Had David known this would happen? Did he realize the full implications of telling them to make me into a real she-male? Surely, this was only meant to be an undercover acting role. Too late to change it now, I had permanently lost my manhood. "Should I give her some pain killer?" asked the aid. "No," replied the manager. "Her owner wants her to have the full experience." With that said he took another plier like instrument, inserted it into my nose and punched a hole through my septum. Grommets were pressed into place before inserting a one inch diameter ring. Thank god I had a gag in place or I would have bitten off my tongue. Next I was released from the stocks and bent over a platform containing a waist high bar. My nose and ankles were chained to rings in the platform. Tied securely into place, the aid approached me from behind carrying a hollow metal tube, larger at one end than the other. This he slowly inserted into my rectum. It was painful to take but eventually the bulbous head passed inside of me and then the rest of it went in easily. A screw mechanism located up inside the tube was then rotated using a ratchet. I felt the tube expanding inside me. After several tugs he was satisfied that it was there stay and released my nose tether. No longer bent over the bar I as able to stand up straight but still anchored to the floor by my ankles. A very ornately engraved she-female chastity belt was then pulled up between my legs. My metal encased penis was fitted into an internal slot and the chastity belt closed with a load clicking noise as the two sides came together into one seamless piece. I was now locked into a chastity belt that from the outside looked just like a regular Ancilla belt. The front piece had an opening for where my vagina, if I had one, would be. It was covered by a small hinged flap that was locked shut. It was explained to me that I now had to use an Ancilla post for my ablutions. I would have an enema twice a day; once in the morning and once at night. Unexpectedly, my first week was spent in a hospital bed recovering from facial surgery. Having 'volunteered' to become an Ancilla, the plastic surgeon had decided to be generous and do everything needed to assure my feminine beauty. He proudly described all of the changes to be made on my face thinking that this would thrill me. Raised eyebrows, more pronounced cheeks, eyes opened up and made rounder, a smaller petite nose, pouting thick lips, and a more female chin. I also received a tracheal shave and tightened vocal chords. In short, my face and voice had taken a one way trip to femininity. It was now black and blue all over but would soon radiate feminine charm. After recovery I was started on she-male training. First I was conditioned to have female mannerisms. This was done using gentle electric shocks to correct me whenever I failed to do act appropriately. Gentle turned into sharp if I made too many mistakes. After a week of such training I automatically behaved as a woman using perfect hand gestures and a sensuous walk. I was also trained on how to converse with and entertain men; how to use feminine giggles and when best to flirt. Eventually, the bruises left my face and I learnt how to apply make-up. This was practiced repeatedly until I could apply a perfect face. By now my hair was very long, cascading down in luxurious waves to my shoulders. I grew accustomed to wearing long nails and jewelry, even to the constant tinkling of bells attached to nipple rings. Except for my chastity belt, collar, neck and ankle bracelets I was kept naked. It was the training in love making that was the worst. Not really love making but being brainwashed into craving sex acts that were unnatural to me. I had to suck and lick any male's cock that came my way. If the man was not satisfied I was punished. Wearing a chastity belt I could not fully satisfy the men, but I learnt how to be alluring and sexy, how to flirt and to make the most out of my oral stimulation skills. Each day's estrogen injections had their effect as I slowly developed a pronounced woman's butt, thighs and large but firm sensuous breasts. I am sure that mental conditioning continued even as a I slept, for I had such vivid dreams of entertaining and making love to men. Ever so slowly I was not only learning how to behave as a woman but in effect becoming one; a woman conditioned to please men. Too late I was beginning to realize what a jerk I had been in objectifying women; not understanding that they too were people worthy of human dignity. If I ever got out of this predicament I vowed to be a new more understanding person; not a man because it was obvious that privilege had been taken from me. It was wrong to treat women as chattel, the property of men. I understood this now having been treated as one, a she-male version of female beauty. Almost every week David would visit the pen and enjoy putting me through my paces. I had to enthusiastically show off what new skills I had been taught. He enjoyed making me suck his dick and getting me to use all of my wiles to make him orgasm. My conditioning ensured that I gave myself fully to the enterprise. At first happy to enjoy the sexual release that I gave him he would eventually leave in a bad mood for I had no news of Melissa. I think he thoroughly enjoyed my predicament and took pleasure in treating me as his she-male slave. All of my questions about Melissa to the other Ancilla were to no avail. No one knew of her whereabouts. Eventually, as my training drew to completion, David started to take me out to special events and parties to show off his prize possession. Usually, I was led by a collar chain with my arms bound behind me and wrapped in a tightly laced leather sheath. He was so confident in my conditioning that I never wore a gag; for that would impede me giving oral services to his friends. I played my part to perfection as a submissive doting Ancilla whose only wish was to please her master. My services were often offered to others, many of whom I knew in my past life as friends and associates. I made them all very happy with my oral skills, but they were disappointed that I was kept chaste in my metal Ancilla belt. After what seemed a lifetime, I was taken by David into the embassy. It now felt like a strange and alien land to me. David took me into the Ambassadors office where I was ordered to demonstrate my skills to the Ambassador. I thought all embarrassment was behind but once again I flushed a bright red. How could he, knowing who I was, treat me in such a way. After all, I was not actually a she-male, but an undercover agent just doing my job. "Not bad. Not bad at all," he surmised after experiencing my oral performance. "You obviously enjoy your new lifestyle Look Stefanie," he said, "you've done your part but things are not going as well as we hoped." While they sat down I was parked onto an Ancilla post, the metal rod mating with my anus tube and starting an automated flushing enema. Both David and the Ambassador ignored my embarrassment at being cleaned out while they watched me and continued the conversation. "We think your being a she-male is a big mistake," said the Ambassador. "We've made everyone aware of your new life but still not a whisper of Melissa. It's possible that whatever happened to Melissa was because she is a woman." I was having a glimmer of hope that I would now be released from this terrible ordeal. I may have been gelded and no longer considered a man, but happily I wasn't a woman either. Then he continued "This mistake will be corrected at the earliest opportunity." What did he mean? Surely I would now be released. The next day I was once again led by a nose ring onto a pony-girl trailer. What now I thought! After a short trip I was led from the trailer into a veterinary hospital for Ancilla. There my chastity belt was removed including the metal penis heath. At last I was going to be freed. My poor penis, which had not fared well in its captivity, was given a detailed examination. "Good news Stefanie," said the cheerful Doctor. "Your dearest wish has been granted by your owner. You are a very lucky girl. Not many she-males get to undergo full SRS." Despite my earnest protests to the contrary, which the Doctor mistakenly took to be female nerves, I was wheeled off to the operating room and underwent the dreaded surgery. Fortunately I was not awake to see my last remaining vestige of maleness skillfully sliced open and restructured into a clitoris; the penis skin being used to line a vaginal slit. I awoke to find myself in a hospital bed. David was there playing the part of a doting lover, gently holding and caressing my hand. "Every things fine Stefanie," he said. "The surgery went perfectly. You now have a beautiful vagina that I just can't wait to penetrate," he lovingly assured me. Horrified, I cursed and railed at him for all that had I had suffered. He just smiled and said, "I can see you are a little bit overwrought right now my dear. Must be all of those female hormones you've been taking. What an ungrateful hussy you are." After two weeks of recuperation during which my vagina was frequently dilated to keep it from sealing closed, I was re-acquainted with the chastity belt, only this time is was a true Ancilla belt. I knew that I would never recover from this. Now a woman, the best possible outcome for me was a successful conclusion to the investigation and repatriation to Earth as a free woman. Unfortunately I had little confidence in being treated honorably by either David or the Ambassador. I feared I would be an all too easily disposable embarrassment. My training continued now as a true Ancilla. Now I learnt how to pleasure men with my genitals. To my surprise I came to enjoy copulating and, if denied for too long, craved the feel of a hot throbbing penis in my vagina. Many sessions of impalement on both real and fake penises introduced me to a whole new world of sex. David took particular pleasure in his weekly visits as I eagerly performed to satisfy his needs. Still there was no word of Melissa's fate and David was becoming angry at my lack of progress. He called me a stupid bitch and sometimes beat me for my failure. I now truly understood a woman's plight and cursed his strength and control over me; but my body's cravings only subjugated me further to his sexual desires and strict discipline. Political pressure was building on the Ambassador to solve the case. I had spent six months in the Ancilla pens with no results to show for it. He had no sympathy for my situation and had long forgotten that I had been his male cultural attach?. I was now just a female to be used as necessary. He gave directions for David to initiate the final phases of the investigation; to enroll me in the pony-girl stables where Melissa had last been heard of. The first I knew of the change was when Ancilla guards stuffed a gag into my mouth and grabbed my arms, folding them behind my back. My wrists were quickly strapped to the opposite elbows and my arms covered by a leather sheath that was laced tight. My eyes were covered by a blindfold and I was led by my nose ring out of the Ancilla pen and into a waiting pony-girl trailer. Once again, the journey was quite long. It seemed like hours that I was jostled around, my nose being pulled by the chain attached to the trailers wall. Finally, with a great deal of relief I arrived at the pony farm. Anticipating a rest I was at first happy to be led into barn. The chain on my nose ring was then attached high up on the wall so I had to stretch my neck and look upwards at the ceiling. Not being able to look down I could only feel the pony tack on my body as it was first draped and then tightly strapped into place. First, the Ancilla chastity belt was unlocked and removed. Then I was dressed in a leather harness. The waist belt was cinched very tightly, with dangling straps fed down under my crotch and back up to the waist belt only to be tightly strapped parting my naked vaginal slit into an open invitation for sex. Another harness belted around my chest displayed and supported my breasts. My legs were placed into boots that looked a lot like horse legs. Having no heels, they had metal horseshoe bottoms and made me stand on tip toe. A halter was strapped around my head and check chains installed to keep me from turning my head. My gag was removed but instantly replaced by a metal bit that easily slid into my mouth. The bit pressed down against my tongue so that I could not speak. Blinkers were placed over my eyes restricting my sight to see only forwards. A metal posture collar was placed around my neck. Encouraged to try and talk, all that came out were horse like whinny sounds. Laughing at my attempts, the stable hand informed me I was wasting my time. The posture collar would convert all vocalizations into to proper pony sounds. A long tail was then slotted into my metal rectum tube. "There, all done now," said the stable hand. "That wasn't so bad was it. You can now relax and recover in your very own stall." The next day my training routine began in earnest. I had to spend many hours prancing around a pivoted wooden post. I was required to learn all of the pony-girl gaits all having exaggerated knee-high steps. This was ensured by a series of spindles that emanated from the center post like spokes on a wheel. It was very painful if I mistimed and hit a spoke. A stable hand ensured my correct speed and form by liberal use of a whip. After a while I was so used to it that I could mentally tune out and let automatic body responses take over. Eventually, I became a well-trained pony that could pull a cart for miles. I was so well conditioned that even when walking I could only do so using exaggerated knee-high steps. I was now a valuable well trained pony-girl. I did not remember what it was like to be a free person, let alone a man. I never heard a single word about Melissa, and being a pony, I could ask no questions. David would come and visit me, sometimes taking me out for a pony trap ride. I would be backed between the shafts of a pony trap and locked into place on the shafts. Thus tethered in place I was unable to turn my hips or body. I could only stand there looking directly forwards. Reigns were slid through each bit ring at the side of my face and pulled down to clip onto the nipple rings on my breasts. He never broke our cover and always treated me as his pony girl, giving me lashes with the whip when I did not perform to satisfaction. At other times he petted me and spoke to me as a master does to an animal. Every so often he would quietly ask if I had news about Melissa and, unable to speak, I had to stomp the ground twice with my hoof to tell him of my failure. Having no useful information and desperate for progress, the Ambassador told David to take the last final step in the investigation. David hinted to the stables manager that, as long as he made a good profit, he would not be unhappy to rid himself of his pretend pony-girl. Perhaps she could disappear among the other pony-girls to be sold to a discrete customer and never seen again. David told me of his plan and that I was not to worry. He knew that the old tracker in my penis had been lost a long time ago and that I was not in a position to talk, so he replaced my nose ring with a long distance listening device. It would alert and listen in on conversations including Marissa's name. Failing that I could alert them with an appropriate series of pony snorts. My looks had been enhanced by surgery to match those of Melissa. Hopefully I would be purchased by the owner of Melissa as a matching pair for her. Matched ponies are a much desired commodity on Imperium. Thus I was to be auctioned off with little hope of personal rescue or finding Marissa. The event was packed with pony girls for sale and crowds of potential owners. I spent most of the day exhibited as merchandise, blindfolded and tethered to a bar, being felt and inspected by prospective customers. Some were interested enough to have me prance around the ring to demonstrate my level of training in all the various gaits. Finally, the auction started and each pony was led into the ring for sale. I could hear the rapid monotone of the auctioneer's voice as he called out the various bids. Eventually it was my turn to be auctioned off and I too was sold. I was led off to yet another trailer and pony-girl ranch. This was beginning to get monotonous as I locked into yet another set of stocks. What was it with these people? I had nowhere to run or hide. I had no choice but to submit. First I was first fitted with a new Ancilla chastity belt and tail. Then, what I feared most of took place. I could not see but felt as the red hot branding iron approached my thigh. Please, not this I screamed inside my head. Once branded, it did not matter how I got here, I would legally always be a pony-girl. Even our embassy could not change Imperium's laws. The heat seared through my flesh as I smelt the burning smell of skin. It lasted only briefly before a pain killing ointment was applied. No matter, I was ruined. It was too late now. I was a branded pony. The next few weeks settled into a routine as I became familiar with the stables and other ponies. Most of my time was spent being raced around a track pulling a pony trap, sometimes alone and other times teamed with other ponies. My brand had healed and I was being treated well considering that I was just a pony. This was obviously a training stable for racing ponies and I was being prepared to race. One day I was being hitched into the shafts of a two horse chariot. Neither of us could see each other as we were both blinkered and chained into position, our arms sheathed behind us. Only allowed to look forwards through narrow slits in our blinkers we were set off to a racing start by rapid slashes of a whip on our buttocks followed by releasing of the chariots brakes. We rapidly accelerated away pulling with all of our might. Oblivious to the whip we were racing in a wild frenzy. As we approached the turn I felt reigns pulling hard at my head and breasts to indicate the turn. Whoever my partner was we ran well together as a team and we picked up even more speed as we turned once again into the straight. After having completed three laps we were tiring and our speed was brought down to a cool down trot. Finally, after another two laps we were brought to a standstill, our skin still sweating and radiating heat. A man I did not know came and praised our performance claiming that we were a perfect matched pair ready for the weekend pony races. Talking to a stable hand, he said "See that Marissa and Stefanie get a good rub down and watering. Another six months of training and they'll be ready to win the annual paired team races. I want them kept in peak condition for that race." Marissa I repeated in my head with glee. Could this be the Marissa we had been searching for so long. In any event, the tracker must have alerted David and soon all of my trials would be over. David and the Ambassador had indeed been alerted by the tracker. It recorded the conversation that told them where Marissa and Stefanie would be in six months, but gave no clue as to current their whereabouts. "That's just a well," commented the Ambassador. "It gives us time to notify her father and bring him to Imperium for the race. Once we've identified the owner, daddy can negotiate to purchase both Marissa and Stefanie. Our embassy budget does not cover the purchase of an expensive set of racing ponies." David laughed saying "Maybe he won't want to buy both of them back; surely he'll only want his daughter." "Yes," replied the Ambassador, "but we have to hope the owner would not devalue his property by selling them separately. Otherwise Stefanie is out of luck." For Marissa and Stefanie the next six months passed very quickly. Their days were filled with exercising and practice races. Stefanie had all but given up hope of intercession in their demise. Not a hint of rescue. The day of the races, the paired ponies were groomed and dressed in mane and tail plaits interwoven with ribbons. They were even adorned with tinkling bells on all of their ring piercings. They tensely waited at the starter's gate for the race to begin. In the crowd, David, the Ambassador and Marissa's father had spotted the matched pair and thought it fun to bet on them to win. We impatiently stomped the ground with our hooves waiting for the race to start. Suddenly we felt rapid whips slashes on our buttocks for a powered start and the chariots brakes were released. As usual we rapidly accelerated away pulling with all of our might. At first we jockeyed for position, settling into second place. Our driver held us back until there were only two laps to go. Then with lashes of the whip we were signaled to let it all loose. Our emotions in a tumult, we put everything into galloping faster. No need for encouragement, we put everything into it and slowly gained ground to come abreast of the leading chariot. Neck and neck we covered one lap of the field. Finally in the last lap, close to exhaustion, we were ahead by a mere chariot length ahead. Gasping for breath we crossed the finish line to win the race. To a roaring crowd, we took a winners lap and were then driven to the winners circle for the awarding of prizes. I sucked greedily at a water bottle as I was hobbled and rubbed down. Red satin winner's rosettes were attached to the bands on our halters and our owner came up to pet us. Out the corner of my restricted vision I thought I saw David and the Ambassador. Marissa's father went up to congratulate our owner. He whispered something into his ear, receiving a nod to go ahead and approach us. Fondling Marissa's head he said. "Darling, I'm so glad that I've found you. I expect you want me to rescue you from your predicament?" Marissa, in a full flood of tears, nodded her head as a pony in a very affirmative yes. "Well, I think you've truly found your place in life. You were always such a brat, bringing dishonor to our family at every opportunity, and costing me lots of money to set things straight. Well, today you finally repaid me. I made a handsome profit betting on your win. I'm calling it quits while I'm still ahead." Shocked the Ambassador asked if he was not going to buy his daughter out of bondage. "Of course not, who do you think arranged for her to end up like this? It was me, tired with cleaning up all of her messes." "But what about Stefanie?" said the Ambassador. "Stefanie? Oh, you mean your man Stephen. Well, I admire his courage and sacrifice, but I think he's gone a little bit too far for a return to normal status. Don't you think it's best for everyone involved if they stay as a matched pair of racing ponies?" "Yes, of course," said the Ambassador. "I can see that's the best resolution to this problem. Mr. Secretary, please let us know if we can be of any further assistance to you in the future. You can always count on us to be discreet."