Beyond Charybdis (22 page)

Throwing herself up, she performed a reversed loop that turned into a dive before rolling effortlessly into a figure of eight manoeuvre. The feel of her wings was wonderful as they obeyed her commands, her body defying gravity, mocking it with her stolen ability to achieve flight. Spiralling around the clearing she cruised gently on the soft thermals, winding slowly down, descending as a tease, making the people wait for her, their eyes aching to see her in more detail. But now
she
was the one in control. She could make them hang on her arrival, their mouths watering with lecherous hunger pangs.

As her hooves brushed the leaves of the treetops she veered drastically away, shooting across the foliage before arching upwards. Spilling around, she began a swift run back towards the clearing, dipping towards it. Formed into a dart of white she flung herself into their midst, speeding over their heads and then jerking her wings up, braking sternly at the middle of the area, instantaneously countering her momentum. Eyes flashed onward, lured into following her speeding path, tricked by her aerial agility. Her mid-air stop left her hanging for a second and then she dropped to the ground, her wings folding in immediately, her legs dropping down to stamp into the soil.

Standing tense and panting before Poseidon, she stepped forward and nuzzled into his side, the Noble rubbing her head as she listened to the awed applause spilling from all directions, the crowd wild from the show.

Poseidon took the praise with humble gratitude, nodding his head calmly as they continued for a few minutes and pressed closer, everyone eager to see up close the creature that had astounded them so.

Taking a bridle from a maid, he threaded the straps onto her artificial face and tightened it into place. The blinkers were snapped down, obscuring her eyes, preventing her from seeing anything as she heard his voice address her softly.

‘You did very well, Pegasus,' he soothed, as he closed a fist to the base of the reins, making his hold distinct, easing her anxiety and welling sense of bizarre claustrophobia. ‘Now keep calm, people will want to touch you. I'll look after you, I'll hold your reins throughout.'

Here she was, sealed skin-tight within a pony outfit, her body encased in figure-squeezing rubber, every function under complete control, and yet it was the thought of dense crowds pressing in on her that spiked her sense of unease. Bondage she could handle, smothered in an orgy of flesh during obliquity was a pleasure, but somehow the thought of large numbers of people, pressing in on her from all directions, leaving her no way out, made her heart start to race and a chilled sweat form on her skin. She was on the verge of losing control, of breaking into a panic, kicking and swatting at them until she could throw open her wings and take back to the air. The only thing that stopped her and soothed her distress was Poseidon's calming hold on her reins. He would not let anything bad happen to her, he was looking after her personally and would allow no guest to take liberties with his prized pet. Her respiration started to ease, and she closed her eyes against the darkness and surrendered her body to the inquisitive hands that descended in droves.

Fingers stroked her body, caressed and squeezed, traced her rubber skin, marvelling at the woman trapped within the astounding uniform. Mina told herself that they were adoring her, that she should feel the same amount of relish in being worshipped by those who ordinarily would use her as a slave in any way they wished. These people never really noticed their servile caste, they used them as though they were furnishings. The women that eagerly scampered forward to do whatever their owners wished were objects, with only a few rare exceptions standing out to receive actual acknowledgement and special attention. Now Mina had captivated their interest, and all were zealous to feel and explore the creation that had dazzled the assembled force of dominants and sadists.

Questions flowed freely with the praise, offers were made, but Poseidon never accepted, keeping to his deal with her real owners, and eventually the groping dwindled, the crowds parting as Poseidon whispered into her ear once more, his hands freeing the bridle.

‘Good girl, now fly for us again, and return when I call for you,' he ordered, the straps to her equine countenance vanishing, the blinkers coming away to open her view once more. The paltry light was a little dazzling to her eyes, the flaming torches that had been stationed throughout the clearing creating a flickering amber halo that served to force back the night.

As Poseidon retreated she flung open her wings, gathering her mental dexterity and applying a singular consciousness to the task of take off. She had yet to try vertical ascent straight from the ground and wasn't sure if it was even possible. But casting away the doubts lest they interfere with her attempt, Mina lowered into a tight crouch and fired her limbs like pistons. Closing her eyes tightly, her mind roared for maximum effort, the wings obeying every command with broad sweeps. With relentless effort she started to gain height, lifting herself in jolts until she was high enough to exploit her capacity as a glider.

Dropping forward she swooped down and then curled back up, sweeping into the sky, using her wings to give added velocity. Arcing up into the night, her form was vaguely brushed by the lights of the party, the orange and yellow hue staining her pure white form until she escaped it.

Whirling and weaving through the heavens, Mina's form was now completely revealed by the light of stars and the exposed spherical face of the full moon, which rendered her an incandescent silver form dancing through the sky as though she owned it.

Three soft pips of sound entered her ears, calling for her return to earth. At first she thought she was low on fuel, but the trio testified that she was merely being commanded to return. Mina ignored it; her addiction to flight would not tolerate a premature end, she wanted to fly until she was on the verge of plummeting from the skies. In some ways that was the end she would have sought, a martyr's dive from the heavens, to perish as an extravagant spectacle rather than ever lay a hoof on the earth again. It was a fanciful notion and little more than that, but one that helped convince her to disobey and remain aloft.

Her plugs started to come to life as they obeyed the remote order of her owner, Poseidon seeking to bring her down with them. But she was well out of range, and as she climbed even higher than before the momentary spark of infant influence from them vanished. Mina wailed with glee at having found freedom in the sky; she was beyond influence now, no one could touch her. The entire sky was her playground, a sanctuary where the influence of those who sought to control her was removed, sloughed off with each flap of her wings.

It took her a few moments to notice the rhythmic stammer of her earplugs as they betrayed dwindling power reserves. Cursing her reliance on technology, Mina began a solemn descent, aware that she had only a few more minutes of energy left. If she got the chance she would recommend that the wings be fitted with automatic locks for the main struts to conserve energy when she was gliding. Implementing these anchors would allow the wings to remain out and not use any energy to have the fibre bundles hold them in position. As a glider she could live in the sky, exploiting thermals and winds to stay aloft. She could perch on the mountain when she needed sleep, and if she could have them add a few solar cells to her body, she could even replenish her power during the day.

But there was always the looming and undeniable necessity of sustenance. With her gagged mouth she was reliant on others to keep her alive. She had the means to spend the rest of her life in the sky, but unless she could find a way to become self-sufficient for food, she would be doomed to dependence on others for survival. Perhaps she could convince Poseidon to place a food dispenser of some kind atop the mountain, to reconfigure her suit to give her more freedom, make her a permanent creature of flight that would haunt the skies of his island for the rest of her days.

All previous allegiance was gone, she had never before experienced anything that came close to this love of flight. Her time in the seas had helped craft it by laying a foundation in the sense of gliding, of being untroubled by gravity and land. But in the depths there was a sense of oppression, of the sea pinning her down, crushing her and smothering her. Only in the air was she undeniably free.

She could not return to land now; she had tasted untainted bliss. How could she be expected to endure captivity upon solid ground after such giddy thrills as a Pegasus? She was the first, the one who had made it possible. She wanted to stay in this caste, have others created to fly with her, to be the head of an airborne herd of Pegasi.

The clearing before the mansion beckoned, an area in the crowd already open to accept her, their parted ranks like a makeshift runway. With wings wide she swooped in, her legs dropping free and delivering her into a sudden run. Slowing down, her gallop swiftly dropped into a trot and then a walk, her wings folding into her sides with an absent command, the skills of flight now second nature.

Looking around, she suddenly felt panic as she noticed that the guests carried a variety of implements of corporal punishment. She looked to the end of her runway and saw Poseidon beside a set of stocks. Far from ordinary, the wooden pillory had two sets of slats at the base to snare her hooves, with an upright sculpted panel to grab and hold her head in place, consciously leaving her helpless rear exposed to the assault of the guests.

Filled with rebellion Mina turned and cast open her wings, breaking into a gallop as the wind gathered beneath the bared membranes. Her hooves left the grass, there was a shimmer of movement before her eyes and she felt something drop about her neck. The lasso of rope snapped taut as its wielder dug their feet in, the hoop snapping against her collar, the dense material preventing strangulation but proving a most effective anchor. Wailing in horror as she was captured, Mina beat her wings with as much force as she could, the draining power making them more difficult to operate. She screamed to get free, the process of being apprehended after her flight a traumatic and intense one.

She was succeeding in dragging those holding to the rope when another landed, slipping down over her head as others bounced against her sides and legs, seeking to snare her but being shed before they could tighten. Another lasso did lock to her left foreleg, adding to the variety of bonds helping defeat her, bringing her forcibly back to the soil.

Mina collapsed onto the ground, driving the wind from her lungs. Before she could fight back hands were upon her once more, pinning her down, and she could do nothing as she was quickly laced into a web of rope. Sobbing, she was lifted up and drawn towards the stocks, the wooden jaws opening to accept her as she struggled, defeated by the humans, for she herself was no longer a member of such a breed. She had become a Pegasus, and it riled her that they had defeated her. She was surely doomed now. They would hold her, whip her, make her pay for her defiance until she was once more tamed and their slave, the light of her revolt extinguished.

With damning snaps the timbers were closed, the stern hands of the guests steering her into the grooves and trapping her extremities. Despite fighting as best she could, her head was placed in the main slot and captured, leaving her pulling at the stalwart restraints.

Hands brushed the roots of her wings and she wailed in abject dismay as she felt them being removed. Throwing herself against the pillory with berserker fury she sought escape, the feel of being clipped and turned back into an ordinary creature of the land bloating her mind with the purest rancour and utter resentment. Nothing that had ever been done to her before had ever been this cruel.

Her fight started to subside until she was hanging lose against the stocks, lost in a morose torpor of defeat. They could do what they wanted with her now, she didn't care. They had taken away her wings, anything else would be a minor infliction compared to this most grievous of mutilations to her. The wings may have been mechanical appendages, but they were more a part of her than any other portion of anatomy. For all the effects they had on her, they might as well have taken her heart, for she could have survived more easily without that than her wings, and the loss of her Pegasus status had effectively performed that mortal dissection anyway, leaving her hollow inside.

The first blow sank into her rear, the cane sending a jolt of fulgent terror through the costume, sinking its burning weal into her flesh, making her gurgle and squeal, spasming wildly against the pillory. A different weapon struck her, and then another, the guests taking turns to apply a stroke or two of reparation for her refusal to return when ordered. It was now a ceremonial event, a party to tame the Pegasus, giving it a strange sense of closure.

Her bottom and thighs were alive with pain, each new lash feeding the swell of agony they were applying to her. But despite the unimaginable duress of the ordeal, it soothed Mina to be punished so, to make her feel more like martyr, a captured wretch struggling against the will of her captors, misused and maltreated by her hated oppressors. Her mind was rocking to and fro on the hurricane of pain, her sight wavering, the endorphins pumping through her veins gathering the residue of her excitement from her flight and driving her to higher plateaus where the pain started to merge with pleasure. Despite her misery she was lost in a trance of euphoria, an almost spiritual event as she was thrown beyond all tolerances, her mind feeling as though it were drifting from her body, seeping away in a bid to escape, or set lose by the intensity of the harrowing trial. Grizzling in apathy between the moments where her soul-torn screams battled the ability of the gag, she looked through her tears to see Charybdis standing before her.