AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“When you obey me, you will be fed,” he says, offering me his palm with just one square of root upon it.
I reach for it with my hand, but that causes him to close his hand and draw it away.
“Eat from my hand,” he insists.
My temper flares. “Why don’t you just make me eat it from the ground, like the animal you’re treating me as?”
“That will be your next approach if you do not take your treats nicely.”
Oh god. He is really going to press absolutely every advantage he has. He’s going to find the smallest opportunities for humiliation and exploit them, and I have no choice but to comply. He doesn’t have to feed me right now. As long as I have water, I could stay hungry for days if he wanted.
I don’t trust him to make this easy for me. I do trust that the next bit of food will be dropped at his big, booted feet if I don’t do what he wants, so when he opens his palm again, I reach out with my head and I wrap my lips carefully around the root, chewing carefully before licking his palm.
I can push things too.
“Look at you,” he rumbles. I can see the thick rod of his cock throbbing against his pants. He must be nursing a hell of a case of blue balls by now. All that on the horse and now, and he hasn’t had a chance to release the tension. He must be suffering. I hope he is.
He continues to feed me by hand, various roasted roots which taste slightly sweet and quite a lot like carrots and potatoes dipped in honey. Every bite is delicious because I am damn near literally starving.
“Good, is it not? Obedience brings great reward.”
Equs has an abundance of natural charisma, and he is very handsome. I could swoon and go to my knees and thank him profusely for his great mercy, but I don’t think that’s what he wants. He is pushing me for a reason. He is putting me in the place of an animal for a reason He wants to shame and break me. He wants me to feel like I am one of his horses. I’m not equal to him. I’m not even a sentient member of his species, really. I’m an intruder from an ancient backward species, and he is toying with me.
“It’s alright,” I say when I have eaten enough that I am willing to risk pissing him off. “Could be better. Do you know what cake is?”
“Cake?”
“Flour, sugar, eggs, cocoa, and butter. A whole lot of butter. And cream.”
“That sounds like a recipe for disorder in the body.”
“It’s a recipe for the best-tasting thing in existence.”
When we speak, the effects of his animal training start to disappear. I want him to know I am just as thinking and feeling a being as he is. I want him to let me out of this round pen and bring me indoors. I want him to let me have a chance at escape. I’ve failed twice, but three times is going to have to be the charm.
“No cake for you,” he says. “You will only have the healthiest of foods, and exercise daily. I will ensure you are fit and conditioned for your breeding.”
I swallow. “My breeding?”
“You are a rare filly," he says. “The first pure-blood human female on this planet in many centuries. Your offspring will add much-needed vigor to our bloodlines. I will breed you every season, without fail.”
He has no idea how creepy he is being by earth standards. This just makes sense to him. It’s a deeply logical thing to say. I’ve said similar things about well-bred mares I’ve owned. Now I’m the well-bred filly, I don’t like it as much.
I suppose there’s some irony that I came here to find breeding stock, and ended up being bred myself.
“Sire…”
He has already turned and walked away, letting himself out of the pen, and leaving me stewing in it. Apparently, our conversation is over. I do not know when he will decide that I am in season, but I know that right now I am looking for a way out of this enclosure.
The problem with it is how open it is. Everybody in the encampment can see me. The stakes which make up the walls are spaced a couple of inches apart. Not nearly wide enough for me to push through, but more than wide enough to put me on display. Then there are the guards. Two of them, stationed at the gate to the pen. They make leaving through the door impossible. I could climb up, but I can see wire up there, and I am betting those donkeys cranking that wheel over there have something to do with it.
I think I am going to have to engineer my way out of this socially. I am going to have to make this king think he’s won. That won’t be hard. I know the techniques he’s applying to me. I’ve used them myself. They were designed for animals who operate on repetition and simple programming. They were never made for humans.
