We step off accordingly. Lady Constance gathers the reins and walks ahead of her team, gently pulling as a reminder of her control. We continue to the water’s edge where very small waves lap the wet sand. She guides the team into the light surf until the water immerses their feet, then turns to the left. The wheels of the chariot splash a bit but the main body of the vehicle remains dry. About a mile or so down the beach, I see the man made jetties that form the entrance to the secluded cove where we docked. Nearby is a barely discernible building. It appears to be our destination.
“I trust you’re enjoying your tour, Doctor. The procedures performed at the medical building you may find a little harsh, but it is best for the males in the long run. Remember, most of our acquisitions have proven themselves to be too truculent even for the clinic’s training program. Therefore, our methods may appear Draconian, but I assure you the world is a better place for all because they are here and not among the general population.
“Of course some just have a size problem, but as you have seen, we can deal with that also.”
We pause and I gaze out across the sea as Lady Constance obtains the water bottle. There is no sight of land, boats or even an airplane. It’s as if the rest of the world has disappeared.
My hostess returns to the front of the team and once again squeezes fresh water into the mouths of the ponies. With the reins dangling, they are able to move their heads and utilize their freedom to bow down and nuzzle Lady Constance’s breasts. It would strike most observers as odd, these two giant males gently seeking to suckle the gorgeous breasts of the woman who has spent most of the afternoon whipping their genitals. But the abundance of hormones and the strict regimen of training and submission has its affect.
“There’ll be a hot sponge bath and massage for you two, tonight. Yes. And I’ll have Botana insert some nice plugs. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
She coos as if speaking to small children rather than huge adult males. But her words are readily accepted and appear to excite.
The water bottle is replaced. Lady Constance once again stoops and frees the two engorged penises from their abdominal piercings. She quickly flicks her fingers against the tip of the right, then the left and the shafts shrink in reaction to the sharp pain. It is once again time to urinate and the ponies dutifully respond in unison. This time relieving themselves into the ocean while Lady Constance playfully directs the flow.
We resume our journey. The reins are held low and close and Lady Constance further tantalizes her team by providing them with an unimpeded view of the smooth flesh of her rolling buttocks as she walks them through the surf.
Lady Constance is silent, enjoying the warmth and beauty as much as I am. After a few minutes she speaks, reflectively.
“You know, Doctor. Many of our acquisitions could use polishing. Once Dr. L----- concludes that a given male is unsaleable, she truncates his training. I’ve been very gracious in accepting some very belligerent youths, but there are only so many sets of legs needed in the power plant. I could use more domestic help and that requires a certain degree of submissive savoir-faire. The porters are like puppies. Harmless and somewhat amusing but not able to fulfill all the duties I demand. I’d like to have a Ming in every bedroom, for example. But I ask myself why I should pay a retail price in obtaining them. I have the physical facilities here and have been considering my own program. I have a connection with the juvenile courts in New York City, which can provide an endless supply of candidates. And you’d be amazed at the acquaintances I’ve made among a group of dominant female probation officers, another source of supply. Last winter they spent two weeks here on vacation. I had some very worn out pony boys afterwards. They all seemed to have an affinity for cropping the testicles...”
She pauses and I contemplate where she is leading with these revelations.
“And you seem to be enjoying yourself...”
Another pause as we near the medical facility.
“Perhaps you may want to consider a more formal relationship. Your background is perfect for the training program I envision. I can pay you well. Your time could be split with the university. There’s plenty of room to stay at Estovia. Or I will have a house built for you. The eastern end of the island is completely uninhabited. And you’ll have your own pony, of course. Male or female.”
My hostess has caught me off guard. But the gracious interview she allowed me in New York, the arrangement and letter of introduction to visit the clinic, and the surprise plane ticket to Aruba..., all these efforts begin to make more sense.
I demur. I explain that I am an observer. A chronicler of D/s relationships and activities. That for a research scholar, no matter how accomplished and with whatever noteworthy works, to practice and engage in the day to day pragmatics of thoroughly dominating the young male and transmogrifying him to a groveling, obedient plaything, is quite an undertaking.
But I promise to give the concept consideration. She is a very attentive hostess. I will endeavor to be a polite guest.
A cut through the dense trees and shrubbery indicates that we have reached the egress from the beach, which presumably leads to our destination. Lady Constance angles toward it and the depth of the surf begins to diminish with every step. We cross the expanse of flat sand and reach a narrow road. It is well hidden in the brush, but surfaced as all the other roads. The island is well laid out for human ponies and I wonder if the original construction workers ever realized why so much rough and firm coral had to be removed if inde
ed the paths were designed for real horses.
Our ponies seem eager to roll and probably do not realize that instead of returning to Estovia we are first going to the nearby building. They just follow the directions of the reins and whip, I remind myself.
Lady Constance draws the reins back over the heads of the ponies. We enter the chariot and as always her thin whip finds the nipples with two skillfully placed strokes. The road is steep and two more strokes have the ponies digging in and accelerating. Within fifty yards, Lady Constance draws the reins to the right onto a wider more regularly used road. Within 100 yards it ends in a cul-de-sac. There, in front of a sizable brick building, a number of ponies and carts await their riders along with Jasmine’s large chariot.
Our chariot draws to a halt utilizing the cords. At this stop, Lady Constance blindfolds the team and gently pushes them to their knees signaling that there will be more than a short respite. With her proximity, both crane their necks and attempt to lick her breasts. She laughs and playfully tugs on their bits, holding their lips within an inch of her prominent feminine charms.
“Later,” is her pleasant admonishment. But I notice she does not fully discourage their efforts and was watching the reaction of their manhood while teasing them.
“They are frisky today, Doctor. It must be the hormones in their feed.”
I follow Lady Constance into the building. A native nurse greets us. She is wearing the standard white uniform similar to Jasmine’s.
“This is Naomi. She was born here on Constancia but was schooled in nursing in the States.”
We exchange greetings.
“Welcome, Lady Constance. Dr. Helga and Jasmine are expecting you and your guest. They indicated there was a one particular banding you wished to observe. They’ve held that one for last.”
“How nice. That’s a pleasant surprise. It must be the Danish lad. Ask Dr. Helga and Jasmine to wait a little longer, please, Naomi. I’d like to show the Doctor here the facility. Perhaps you can assist?”