Steeds, Fillies And Love

Chapter 1.01 The Way it Was

In the early days of the twentieth century, scientists debated whether environmental factors or genes dominated in the growth and thought of human beings, plants and animals. A primitive tribe of humans called Russians hypothesized that mere thought or need could select for better genes. Others such as Mendelev argued that survival of the fittest selected for the best genes and so the best body and lifestyle that resulted.

What was argued really was whether free will existed or did the world evolve inevitably from random circumstances. Humans quarreled often in their religions about this primal issue. Sometimes God ruled with an iron hand. Sometimes He gambled. Some Gods were overthrown and man pretended to be the gods. Sometimes He did not exist.

When the Grha conquered portions of the Earth, they entered into this queasy philosophical morass. Did the Grha count and in what way? Certainly they had a different way of viewing existence. What if they were right and Man wrong? Has Man ever been right? Did it matter?

Chapter 1.02 Racing

Bill Swansea of Amerash traded with the Grha Domain of Wyhlach for his father's firm and dealt uneasily in a complex and difficult transfer of cotton, bananas, and bison for microelectronics, paisley, and icons. When he visited the far northlands, he exchanged pleasantries with what passed as the Grha merchant class. Friendship was too alien a concept to share with them but gambling on the outcome of filly races both groups enjoyed.

Deep in the Domain near what the ancient Canadians called the Hudson Bay, human drivers dared not venture. So only young flexible Grha sports guided the light carriages contested by expert teams of attractive fillies. Being related to humans the fillies possessed some intelligence but preferred praise for their physical skills and features and often had short vicarious lives. The Grha neglected their sexual attributes having absolutely no interest being asexual in their reproductive habits.

Swansea studied the racing form with his Amerash cohort from early school years, Jack Lacey. This contest featured trotter teams in the Liadline event of one kilometer. Ten carriages participated in this race. Each had a team of four fillies of the same pure breed. Today's teams consisted of two sets of American Sluts, one rare Southern Belle, two Quebeckers, one French Maid, one Yakut, two Canuck Sluts, and one JAP. All nervously pranced in their wooden examination stockades, anxious to run and compete with their girlfriends. To keep circumstancial advantages even, all of the fillies wore platform heels, high skirts, electric reins, and crotch yokes.

He liked the sturdy calves of the Canucks but sentimentally favored the American breed. Jack preferred the sultry Southern Belles. The Grha odds makers posted the imported French Maid as 7-5 to win. The American and the Canadian Sluts ranged from 3-1 to 50-1 in odds.

Every one of the fillies nervously shifted from side to side when he and the handsome dark haired Jack approached. Men were rare this far north and the fillies reacted to their exciting oddness with a natural sensual attraction and sheer tantalizing shyness perhaps responding to a trace of testosterone in the atmosphere. Some might have been virgins and shivered when the humans caressed a comely breast or sleek flank. All were young ranging in age from 16 to 26. Swansea, himself, was 20 and normally horny.

A brown-eyed Quebecker mare with silky auburn tresses bothered Swansea. Something puzzled him, which he put down as ordinary sexual attraction for her swept back hair and full breasts filling her upper dress and brassiere to the near point of bursting. He inspected carefully under all of their dresses checking their harness connection areas and peeped for tell tale rashes from chafing of their thighs. Though uncertain of his origin or species, the fillies let him explore their private areas without hesitation and responded with a warm wetness leaking from under their thin panties. Their reaction was instinctive when he touched near their vaginas.

Impulsively, he bet on the Quebecker duet despite the high 50 to 1 odds. Jack laughed at his foolishness and wagered some more on the side with his friend while he bet officially on the Southern Belles. Swansea's stomach flipped strangely as if the gamble had a deeper emotional meaning than it showed.

Swansea also inquired with the Quebecker owner on whether he could use them after the race. Luckily the Grha considered his weird request as a lucky omen and accepted with a raucous grunt. Being sterile and egg fixed fillies faced no physical problems or excuses even if they understood the transaction or its possibilities.

Amazingly the Quebeckers won and Swansea did too. He collected the four panting Quebeckers immediately afterwards while their thighs still profusely sweated and the exhilaration of the victory still coursed through their veins. They meekly followed him after the normal transfer from a Grha handler of their leashes to a new boss hand to his sheltered sleeping quarters near the Liadline. Securing their left ankles to the bottom bed post, popping their gags and tenderly pulling light blue panties down, Swansea instructed the eager virgins how to suck and fuck a dick. Despite a hard race the fillies had no problem overcoming fatigue in his bed. In the morning they disappeared back to their stalls to be prepped for their next race in two days.

The filly he found so disturbing had etched into her right tit her Grha brand and number 003-987-2837.

Chapter 1.03 Some Definitions

Cloning - To reproduce without sex many individuals from the same genetic source material. Individual clones could be identical or varied by minute details to reduce visual and personality confusion.

Fillies - Sterile female humans raised as beasts of burden originally by the decadent American/Euro civilizations.

Grha - Those who conquered the Earth.

Humans - Those who once ruled the Earth.

Chapter 2.01 The Way It Is

Ruin, devastation, havoc and terror. In many different ages Earth has been ravished, struck by asteroids, stalked by diseases, burned and fought over. Constant change was the rule. Why should any age be different?

One must leave reality to find true peace. The paradigm of existence creates suffering. To be is to suffer.

Maybe the dinosaurs retired?

Fillies enjoy life without choice, without the evil fruit of knowledge.

Chapter 2.02 Pack Girls of Amerash

The Amerash pack girl steadily marched the twisted roads of the western Rockies bearing the heavy loads evenly across her shoulders, draping egg-shaped bags across her breasts and carrying a ponderous crotch pouch braced across her ass. Her light blue cotton frock caressed her lithe upper thighs and let her nipples provocatively poke the thin material. Naturally, a tight leather strap creased her dress hem in front and in back.

Two hundred of her comely girlfriends plodded along in step in two columns connected crotch to wrist, wrist to wrist and neck to neck. To Swansea these pack girls represented a great investment and a great deal of trouble. He did not look forward to the fierce commercial battles of Amerash. When his father retired or died, that would be his onerous fate along with his two younger brothers and as the eldest the major duty would be his.

Three of the freight troop were sisters, one aunt, three nieces and one naughty wench he was thinking of proposing to. Most were of a common source, purchased from the lower classes.

His father's company owned all of them. The two dozen male employees that included his school friend Jack guided, fed, maintained and cleaned the girls. After a hard day of work they would also bed them except for the Swansea relatives and a handful of others who were kept under lock and key in the hopes of an advantageous marriage. More than once he and Jack had shared a lively oldster not locked by her relatives and no longer married.

Energy sources had dwindled since the heydays of the twentieth-first century. Science had adapted well and technology still amazed. Swansea packed a laser pistol, compact radio communication methods and an electric whip.

Only the large bulk goods required mechanical transport in these days. Small items, valuable and compact, moved with the toil of patient girls happy to serve and have a useful job. Those who thought otherwise had been modified out of existence over the centuries.

Swansea approached his devastating sixteen-year-old sister, a nubile blonde with dancing emerald eyes, and patted her flaxen head affectionately. Michelle stirred and glanced at her warm-hearted brother never breaking her steady six kilometers an hour stride. She blinked hello and pursed her friendly red lips around her red ball gag. She wasted no breath on useless speech but kept her strength for her job. She inhaled and exhaled quite nicely.

Someone in Denv perhaps or back East in Charlstown would enjoy her provocative and engaging company one day and help win a few contracts for their firm. She would be dandy in her role. He could sense her sweet hotness from the way she swayed her hips as she walked. She bothered him too far too much despite being a relative. His cock rose and he considered what other cuddly blonde he would have tonight in her place. Or perhaps a brunette...that darn silly Quebecker filly again rose unbidden to his mind's eye.

The glory of Amerash belonged to the strong backs and rapid little tongues of the mongrel pack girls. A breed not born from cloning tubs but from the fat bellies of women.

Chapter 3.01 Negotiations

Swansea often visited the northern Domain learning the trade. Each time he went he inquired of the Quebecker racing team known as "Ghanar Ty Iollal". They toured for a longtime near the magnetic pole and higher where humans were not allowed since the Conquest one thousand years ago. Finally they circled south near the northern wetlands of Lake Superior. Swansea arranged a quick business trip that required a Ford Flyer so his personal fillies stayed home though some worked on a milk run between Denv and Salt Lake City.

He inquired of the team owner, Ty Mytar, for permission to use the Quebeckers. The Grha remembered his lucky human and acquiesced immediately. Swansea shortly greeted the fillies with a warm hand under their dresses between their clever white thighs. They knew him from before and greeted him with much rapid blinking. Their nipples strained their dresses in a fond memory of the last night they shared. They whined plaintively to him eager to be bedded. He told them to win and it would be so.

They won. Since the last time he had fucked them, they had raced 62 times placing only eleven times and mostly third at that.

Once more Swansea caressed "002-987-2837" well rounded tits and pressed her head down on his cock. She sucked happily learning this time what her throat's natural function was as he pressed his hard cock all the way down and held it as she struggled for breath. Afterwards he tried to converse with her but her ancestral French had deteriorated from a lifetime of gagged silence and generations of ruthless total Grha control.

It did not matter. He hugged her tight and knew her finally as a lost soul mate. Two of her slightly older clone sisters settled in around him wrapping slender tired legs around his hairy legs while his beloved slept calmly on his rugged chest. Her other sister cradled his head against her breasts and belly. It was a nice family she had.

He loved her and knew what he had to do the next day.

The Grha owner refused to sell his beasts or even consider the generous Swansea offer. This was exceptionally surprising. Humans and Grha had little in common but ever since the last wars both sides had sulkily agreed to forever trade, gamble and respect frontiers. The Grha, perhaps embarrassed, attempted to explain: "These fillies are experimental. An attempt to break in new genetics. They must be studied closely. To err would be...how you say...evil to do."

"That merely drives up the cost. All things have a price and what is yours?"

"None."

Swansea considered and grinned: "How about winning races?"

"???"

"I screw them and they win. You know I am lucky."

"True..." The Grha hated to be stuck. His greed battled with his ethics. "Still...wrong..."

"There must be some way, some exception...some deal we can make to help you and satisfy me. " earnestly insisted Swansea.

"True...I will consult...others may see...permit..."

With that Swansea acquiesced, content to wait for a little while but not too terribly long.

Chapter 3.02 Marriage

Michelle Swansea went quicker than he had thought possible. A son of a noble in Appalachia had offered Father Swansea an exclusive transport contract for tobacco and Morgantown gear. He had grown enamoured of her sweet ass and his father had approved the deal. What could a big brother do but help sell Michelle's ass?

She would make one last haul for her brother lugging a load of Indian jewelry east to KC where she would be crated and air shipped to Alabam under his personal direction. There, in lower Appalachia, her new husband would greet her, check her luscious body for damage and then let her march with a new yoke to her new home hauling cargo, of course, or pulling a black personal carriage.

Bill Swansea envied his sister. She would find true love sooner than he would. At twenty he ached to settle down and raise children for the defense of the Amerash frontiers. He dreamed of his Quebecker lining up under some Grha dome waiting for the electric signals to her nipples and crotch to tell her to begin and pull with all of her petite might. When he owned her he would name her Michelle in honor of his sister.

He wished Michelle well. She would have no worries in her life. A man owned her now and would make her pregnant and swoon with passion. She had a job too that put her on display, kept her fit and outdoors. What more could anyone want?

Chapter 4.01 The Deal

Ty Mytar requested Bill Swansea to come to Boothia in secrecy. Swansea arranged his personal matters and traveled in a zigzag pattern north using three different modes of transport. Humans could be counted on the fingers of one hand up here. It was an honor to be granted to only a few.

"What is it?" There was no point in small talk or friendship with a Grha. These concepts did not exist for them so they could not be insulted.

"The beast that you wanted."

"And?" breathlessly Swansea waited.

"It can be arranged."

"What price?"

"None."

"Now I do not understand again, forgive me my lack of knowledge."

"You have a choice to make. As was said the filly is an experiment in genetics. What is to be said must never be said. To learn is to die or to make a choice."

"Explain, please, Grha."

"We are Grha, we produce young as we wish. When first we came we thought you the same with your cloning vats. We erred. That was wrong. Now we are right."

"So you know we screw and reproduce. So?"

"So, we learn. We wish to...again this is as far I can go. Decide."

Swansea considered. Ty Mytar offered him his Michelle but at a price that could not be explained. What could it be? "If I accept will I be able to have the filly?"

"Yes. As part of the experiment. We control."

"Will I be able to screw her?"

"Many times, at least as often as she wins and more."

"May I take her home to Amerash?"

"Unlikely. Never. Boothia or further north forever...perhaps much later something may be arranged. I have concepts to explore from ancient human texts that may apply or may not."

Swansea considered and his cock decided. "OK, I accept as long as I can arrange for a decent fake death for the folks back home. Now what is the choice?"

"To become a steed. The matter is in progress as we speak."

Chapter 4.02 After The Conquest Wars

Neither the Grha nor the humans won. True the Grha came as colonists fleeing tyranny and gained something. They preferred cooler weather and the thawing Antarctic, high Himalayas and North Pole regions had few humans anyway.

The final peace treaties forbade further armed conflict, encouraged mandatory trade and gambling and set forbidden subjects. Among these banned subjects were reproduction except cloning, genetic manipulation, biological and nuclear warfare and slavery. Fillies did not count generally under these restrictions.

But that was long ago and times change.

Chapter 5.01 Training

Michelle fluttered her lovely eyelashes at Bill from her stall next to his. In the last three weeks Bill had learned a lot about Michelle and her sister Marie and the intricacies of a carriage harness from an intimate personal position. The cold Grha hands constantly probed between his legs inserting poles and tightening straps making him whine and twist. Dozens of strong electric shocks left his cock twitching but his body muchly more obedient to routine Grha orders.

Servile Grha arranged for his feeding and drinking usually after long grueling hours with the fillies hauling an extra high weighted carriage around a kilometer long circular track. Being potty trained was more difficult and was a matter of controlling his bladder and rectum until the privacy of his sand covered stall after his clothes had been removed. He would kick the absorbent and scented sand over his mess. Grha would clean up afterwards when he was off exercising or being taught.

He resented the fact that his sexual desires were often ignored and used as a bribe by his Grha owners to test his and the Quebecker performance. Indeed they all performed better with sex denied until after the race. In a special larger stall the two sisters would kneel as a reward and let the Grha pop their gags. Immediately, they descended on his engorged cock and alternately deep throated until he shot his load over their smooth white faces. After a brief period as the fillies cleaned up with writhing pink tongues on each other's face and over his prick and balls, the Grha would isolate them again in adjoining stalls, regagged, wrists locked, stripped, standing and cooling off from their exertions.

He would stand then joyously anticipating his next chance to be double sucked with his prick still stiff from his unrequited passions. Michelle shyly glanced down over the rough-hewn wood stockade and admired what her sultry little body could do to him. Her proud tits taunted him, so visible and so unreachable. Her wondrous tongue locked behind her rubber ball gag undoubtedly laughed at his predicament. For her the stalls and her bonds had been with her since she had been a foal. She enjoyed her life and knew no other. She could flirt as much as she wanted merely by standing still with her hands behind her rump as he painfully discovered.

In the first week he had suffered many doubts. Ty Mytar had directed the purging of all surface hair except for his scalp and crotch. A technician had burned Ty Mytar's mark on his right breast with his serial number inscribed underneath: M00-000-001. True he loved Michelle and he had not liked how he lived in Amerash. Still being made a dumb beast rankled some despite his love of Michelle.

Since he had joined the Quebecker breed line, they had died his hair to match and softened his skin with estrogen. He wore the same pale blue panties and cerulean dress with vertical darker blue stripes though it fitted more as a tunic on his larger frame. For the moment he even shared the same flat sandals on his feet but he feared one day he would learn to trot in high heels as did pretty Marie and gorgeous Michelle. Even a bra could one day be tied over his chest.

The Grha mark was really a brief inscription from their language. His consisted of a circle with a centered dot, horizontal squiggle, triangle (6 in a row) and a bar. What it meant he did not know or had ever speculated. Certainly, it appeared grim and macabre.