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The stallion sat back on his hooves on the earth. His hands were tied behind his back, and a shiny collar round his neck proclaimed his status for all to see. His eyes bore the look of defiance though. An unseemly defiance.

I, his owner, a mere slight but sinewy muscled meerkat, nodded to the slave handler, a bespectacled ram, who reached forward and stared into those defiant eyes. He then he gripped the swinging horsecock before him and stroked most delightfully in a counterclockwise direction with a slight twist on the flare.

The stallion cringed at the touch, so unwanted and yet so beautiful. "I am a stallion!" he cried indignantly. "How dare you touch me like this! Guards!" He called. "Guards!"

The meerkat, his owner, nodded again, and the ram let go of the swinging appendage and looked at the stallion's eyes. "You will cum for me," he said.

"You do not dare to jack me off!" laughed the stallion.

"You will cum," said the ram.

"Do not jack me!" wept the stallion. "I am a macho manly stallion and secret agent! How can I admit...admit...I like the touch of a mere...Q branch nerd..."

"You will cum," said the ram.

I watched this exchange. Truly, I knew the stallion would cum. He was a slave, and on Gor he had no rights. Perhaps on Earth, in its permissive society, which distorts the true roles of all species, and allows brainless macho stallion pricks to rule the world where their true masters with brains and cunning like, well, myself, a truly superior meerkat indeed, are kept under their hooves. But not here, on Gor, which knew how to treat a slave, and the true glory and purpose of an IQ above 180. Here he would cum; and here I could order the same, and enjoy his debasement like the finest wine.

The ram picked up the horsecock again, and muchly did he stroke it, with suitable attention to the flare of course. The stallion cried out. "No, Master! Please do not jack me off!" The ram continued to jack him, paying no heed to a mere slave's cries. "Please, Master," begged the stallion, "Do not make me cum! If I do, everyone will know I secretly crave your sinewy body and the touch of another male!" The ram jacked him. He was a slave. His body belonged to his master.

The stallion sobbed muchly as the ram continued his exploration of the delights of a mere brute stallion. His abs, admittedly fine, and his chest so pump with muscle. And of course the ponycock, which he stroked most dextrously, ignoring the cries and whinnies of the mere slave horse as was right and proper for a superior being such as us.

His cries became moans now, and then gasps, and the ram went on stroking at my urging. And then he could resist no longer.

"I am yours master!"

His flood of semen told the truth of this statement, verily. It watered the dry ground of the slave pen, pooling at his hooves until he sat back and panted, his eyes no longer defiant.

"You have been well pleasured," said the ram.

"Yes," said the stallion, "I have been well pleasured." Of course, it could be pleasured by it's Gorean master at will. It knew now; even a stupid horse can be taught.

"I have pleasured you well," said the ram.

"Yes, master," said the stallion. "You have pleasured your ponyslut well. I am a ponyslut, and as such I should be pleasured by my master."

Now at last I touched him. I gripped his cock, which rose into new life under my touch. I could feel it's heat, and more, I could feel it's submission. And it's submission felt well.

The stallion looked at me in awe. "I am a stallion, and a secret agent with a body of pure muscle and power and the ability to kill and fuck in the same scene" he said wonderingly. "I am of Earth, but for the first time, I feel myself truly ponylike. On Earth, I was in control and fucked bitches all day, usually ending in them being killed horribly by evil doers sometime in the second act so as to provide some scintilla of moral ambiguity to my otherwise boringly macho characterisation

"I often scorned those who I saw as weak who would seek to give me such pleasures. But they were weak, and did not see my scorn for what it was, the weak attempt of a mere dumb jock horse to protect himself from the truth of my deep burning desire for nerds to touch me and make me cum. Not one of the weak Earth nerds would dare to pleasure me like this. But on Gor," he shuddered, "on Gor it is different. Here, a Master may pleasure me as he likes. But strangely, I feel myself most ponylike when I am at the mercy of a strong Gorean master, such as you."

"Now it is your turn to pleasure us..." said the ram, hesitating as he looked at me.

I smiled. "Call him Ponykins. Slave Ponykins."

The stallion shuddered. "But...my name is Stud Colt..."

I frowned, and the ram reached for his whip.

"Not any more Ponykins...not any more..."

His cries were musical, and the ram ceased to chastise him well before the point of breaking. For the art was not in breaking the slave quickly, but gently, slowly, insistently until he knew no other. And this one would break well.

I admired the red stripes on his coat, and the look in his eyes. Troubled. Deferential. Like a ponyslut should.

"I...am on Gor...and I do as...Goreans do..."

"That is well ponyslut." I said.

"That is well ponyslut." The ram said.

His muzzle opened as he bent forward under the whip. He needed no encouragement though, as he took my really quite impressive five inch cock into his wet hot muzzle and...

"Hello losers!"

The meerkat and the ram suddenly scrambled for the artificial reality helmets, ditching them by their seats. They had not expected a visitor down here in Subbasement B4. Everyone in Q branch knew not to come into Q's office when he had his lifesize cardboard Mister Spock showing in the window.

Of course, miss Honeybadger hadn't got the memo. And if she had, she wouldn't have cared.

"Honeybadger...what can we do for you?"

The young meerkat, head of Q branch, nodded significantly at his companion. His deputy, a ram with an IQ off the charts, somehow was deficient in such things as social mores though, which was unusual for someone who had graduated highschool at eleven. So he ignored the increasingly frantic signals to kill the screen to their right.

It was a little too late though for that.

"Well Q...first, you can get me some brain bleach after seeing that..."

"How...how long were you here?"

The secretary just smiled. "Long enough. I can congratulate you Q. You have singlehandedly created the only fiction based on the Gor universe that isn't demonically misogynistic. Gloria Steinem should give you a blowjob."

He shuddered at that though. Female cooties...ewwww! And feminist female cooties...double ewwwwwwww!

"Think I can get a copy of the playback? For personal reasons of course...after all, the Service spent a lot of money so you could have this artificial reality system in order to masturbate to bad horse porn."

The meerkat merely blushed, while his ram colleague tried to hide under the table. He was mildly flustered now. Somehow Miss Honeybadger always managed that. Like his mother, when she came into his bedroom while he was shoving that dildo up his ass watching the Mens 4 x 100 swimming relay at the Olympics...

"I'll take that as a no. Well, no problem. I have more important fish to fry today. Tell me about Operation Goldenmane."

The meerkat suddenly stiffened. He motioned to his deputy, who gratefully shuffled out the door hiding his enormous erection and the spreading wet patch at his groin.

They were alone now, apart from Zachary Quinto.

"What are you talking about?"

"You heard me Q. I understand it has something to do with tracking our agents, like Stud Colt. I believe he may be alive, and I want to know where. And soon."

"How did you hear about that??"

"None of your business Q. So, will you help me, or do I have to tell our boss what you have been getting up to here...'oh master, please, don't jack me off'..."

Her voice was pure malice, with a touch of pony for good measure. The meerkat shuddered again, and his own wet patch grew larger.

"I cant...the boss would have me castrated and sent to Siberia."

"You might like that Q. What's it going to be?"

He nodded reluctantly, and gave her a wounded look. "You are a real bitch Honeybadger. Meet me in the garages in one hour. We cant do it here."

She gave him her own contemptuous look and turned on her heels. He watched her go and managed a half whispered insult to her back.

"Cosian bitch."

The term made him think though. He was still under the influence of the machine, and in his carefully created Gorean universe, so it coloured his thoughts too. Why did he see her as an enemy? An agent provocateur...

His deputy was hovering outside the office. He went to the door and beckoned him to enter.

"Mainwairing, I think we may have a problem."

"You mean apart from Miss Honeybadger seeing our little...roleplay...?"

"Yes my boy, far worse than that. I think Honeybadger needs to be watched. Very closely."

Both of them shuddered at that. But even a Kinsey 6 can watch a woman naked when he has to. Provided it matters an awful lot.