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It was hot. Again.
      It was always hot here.
      It would always be hot here. Here, on the edge of the desert, where the rules of civilisation didn't apply, where those with power ruled absolutely.
      In Europe the pet trade was in ruins, would probably never recover. At least, that was what he'd read, on the screen of the news-monitor his keeper had - probably deliberately - left where he could see it. The authorities across two continents had agreed to co-operate to stamp out the 'vile trade', and bring to justice all those who'd dealt in human misery.
      But that was in Europe. Not here.
      Here was the backside of the planet. Here was unmarked territory.
      And he was trapped here, with no way out, no escape.

Jackson - who'd been renamed Muffin, to his absolute disgust, though he had far more to worry about than a silly name - shifted slightly against the tiles of his stable. It was uncomfortable lying here, but cooler than on the rough bed against the wall...
      He ached. The base of his tail and the pale golden pelt of his inner thighs were crusted with dried blood and semen from last night's usage - and the welts from the crop across his buttocks were stinging. He hadn't been groomed today - the pet-keeper 'Smith' employed was a lazy bastard who usually didn't show up until early afternoon - and his drinking water was running low, otherwise he might have attempted to clean himself, despite the difficulty of holding anything with the things they'd made of his hands.
      His ears twitched as he heard the stable door open and seconds later Ali the pet-keeper leered at him from the doorway.
      "And how's my pretty Muffin today, hm? Ready to be washed?"
      Jackson tossed his head - an action forced on him by his behavioural mods every time he was asked a question - and dragged himself wearily to his hooves. Ali reached forward and tugged the heavy chain attached to the large ring between his balls, making the pony-man neigh with pain. The keeper grinned nastily.
      "Let's give you a bath then..."
      Jackson hated baths. He couldn't keep his footing on the slippery ceramic of the big tub, and the vaguely hoof-like hands they'd given him weren't much use for holding onto anything. Under the shower it was different, he could retain a sliver of dignity, but in the bath...
      Ali liked to get him in the bath. Off-balance and reliant on the man, Jackson was easy prey for any indignity. The keeper particularly enjoyed paying special attention to the pony's genitals: 'Smith' had decided, during his pet's makeover, that he wanted Jackson to only be able to climax when his owner ordered him to do so. It was such fun getting the pony all aroused and rigid and desperate to come, and not being able to!
      The keeper pushed his charge backwards, once they were in the hot water: hooves skating against the curved base of the tub, Jackson stumbled and fell, bruising his forearms as he managed to break his fall. Whimpering silently, trying to ignore his response to the man, the pony closed his eyes as Ali slowly began to lather his massive cock and heavy, pendulous balls with the rose-scented soap 'Smith' favoured...

As soon as the payment had been transferred, Carlos Raphael had handed the ex-tracker to his makeover team, with the instruction that Jackson was to be kept conscious for as much of the procedure as possible. He'd been awake when they pumped his lower body full of anaesthetic, and forced him to watch as they enlarged his penis, his testicles, changed the structure of his legs, replaced his hands... Mercifully, they'd had to knock him out to give him the horse-ears 'Smith' wanted: while he was unconscious they changed his eye colour, installed his behavioural mods, and extended his spine to provide the support for his long, silky, cream-coloured tail. He was, however, awake when they burnt out his hair with a pinpoint laser and inserted the follicular plugs - over his head and down his neck and back - that swiftly grew into the long, long mane he now sported. They hadn't used any anaesthetic for that procedure. It had hurt like hell.
      The makeover had taken seventy-five hours. Recuperation - including learning how to walk with the new equine legs - took another month. At the end of the time he'd been locked into a tiny cage with the basic necessities and shipped to the Southern African States, where 'Smith' had taken delivery of his cargo of 'zoo specimens' and had Jackson transported to his new home - a mock-Moorish castle standing in its own grounds on an extensive estate somewhere in the South African Desert.
      He found he wasn't the only pet, although it seemed that 'Smith' wasn't exactly imaginative with his choices. He had a dog, an unhappy young man who'd been madeover to resemble an Alsatian, and a black cat - a beautiful languid female with enormous golden rings through her big plump nipples, large clitoral hood and pendulous labia, rings that usually sported strings of precious gems. Apparently she'd chosen this life - her other options being either slave-wife or whore - she still had her voice, and human fingers and thumbs, though they all had retractable claws. She took a certain sadistic pleasure in taunting Jackson, lying just out of reach and spreading her legs, playing with herself, masturbating with an ivory dildo as she writhed on the cool tiled floor. Jackson had wanted more than anything to fuck the little bitch, his enlarged cock was just about big enough to split her in two, but she was careful never to come close enough to be caught.
      'Smith' had supervised the unloading of his latest acquisition, dark eyes gleaming as he ran his gaze over his exhausted and unsteady pony. He circled Jackson, touching, stroking, laughing as the ex-tracker tried to slap away his hands, all the time whickering in distress as his cock engorged, brushing against his stomach, the mods forcing him to become aroused as the male pheromones in the air made him dizzy with lust. 'Smith' nodded in satisfaction and smirked at Ali.
      "Good. Get him cleaned out and I'll introduce him properly to his new home."
      Leering, the keeper had tugged on the chain linked through the big ring through Jackson's scrotum and led him to the bathing room, where he was held down on his back, legs above his head, by two huge guards, as Ali administered the warm soapy and cool rose-scented enemas, scrubbing gently at the inside of his rectum with a soft flexible brush.
      Clean, velvety pelt brushed, his mane and tail combed until they shone, Jackson was led to 'Smith's 'fucking room' - a chamber off the man's bedroom that had been equipped with all sorts of crops, whips, chains... But this first time 'Smith' used only his own body, to wrestle with the pony-man and force his submission. Jackson fought - as far as his mods and weariness would allow, at any rate - but 'Smith's superior weight and skill finally had the ex-tracker face down leaning over a high bench. Leering, his big cock pressing between the pony's buttocks, 'Smith' whispered in Jackson ear,
      "You're mine, my little... Muffin. I can do anything I want to you."
      Biting Jackson's shoulder he rammed into his pet's arse, forcing his way through the tight ring of muscle and sheathing himself in the hot, rose-scented rectum with a satisfied grunt.
      And Jackson screamed as he was fucked, the high-pitched, despairing scream of a horse in pain - or a pet who suddenly realises that this nightmare is real.

That had been several months ago, and since then all three pets had been regular entertainers at 'Smith's parties and business meetings. Jackson had proved very popular: his owner's associates enjoyed riding 'Smith's latest toy, liked 'taming' him with crop and bridle and vicious tugs on the leash attached to his scrotal ring. The black cat - Saiya, her name was - took pleasure in positioning herself in his sight as she was fucked, on hands and knees purring with pleasure as her tail slapped lightly over the backside of the man inside her. Jackson watched her, his eyes hot and wide, as he was pounded from behind, the men queuing up to fuck him, stroking his massive swollen aching cock as he tried futilely to buck them from him.
      Smith would observe, smiling, as his colleagues enjoyed his hospitality, at the end taking the pony himself, huge cock sliding easily into a channel oozing with semen then pulling Jackson upright against his big body, turning so that the pony's massive quivering cock, pre-ejaculate glistening as it trickled down the solid pole of flesh, was in full view. As 'Smith' stiffened and orgasmed, he ordered Jackson to climax as well - and the room cheered as the pony neighed and came, great spurts of creamy semen jetting from him, splattering his chest and the floor before him and occasionally a businessman kneeling in front of him, rubbing the hot jism over himself or catching it in his mouth...
      Jackson was not allowed to fuck anyone. Not until his third month with 'Smith', when the African had spent an hour fucking him, arousing him - then leading him out to the stable.
      Where Ali stood holding a donkey.
      Jackson stared, bewildered. It was a real donkey, stiff-haired, smelly - and female.
      'Smith' gripped his pet's erection, then nodded towards the animal.
      "She's yours, sweet Muffin. Your reward for being such a good boy."
      Horrified, Jackson stared from the donkey to 'Smith' and back again. The African smirked.
      "You're far too... well-endowed to fuck a human. And I don't want Saiya damaged. Twinkles here," he jerked his head towards the ass, who tossed her head as she heard her name, "is about the right size..."
      nonononono... Jackson tried to take a step backwards, but 'Smith' pulled on his scrotal ring, stopping him from moving. His owner looked angry.
      "I've gone to a lot of trouble to get this present for you. You will be properly appreciative, or you will suffer."
      His master's voice. The mods kicked in: Jackson's cock became even more rigid. How long had it been since he'd actually fucked anything? Months. Being ordered to come, and climaxing into the air with nothing physical around his cock, did nothing to relieve the awful ache in his groin... Swallowing convulsively, tears staining the velvety pelt of his face, he walked hesitantly forwards, positioning himself behind the jennet and shifting her tail out of the way. Beneath it... He swallowed again, trying to convince himself that a cunt was a cunt, whether it belonged to a woman or an animal...
      Closing his eyes he shoved into the moist orifice, slumping over the donkey's twitching back as his cock was hugged by hot flesh. A comfortable fit, if not particularly tight, but after such a long abstinence he hardly noticed. Within moments his hips were jerking back and forth as he fucked, ramming harder than a woman could have endured, heavy balls slapping against the ass's legs, teeth gritted as he felt the pressure growing through his groin...
      'Smith' made him fuck the donkey for twenty minutes before he gave the order to climax. Jackson froze, cock pumping semen seemingly-endlessly into the donkey's cunt, his head back, mouth open, gasping with relief - then pulling out and away in sheer self-disgust.
      He felt nauseous. This was what he'd been reduced to?
      'Smith', however, seemed pleased, patting Jackson's flank as he eyed the slick liquids coating the big flaccid cock.
      "I'm pleased, Muffin. If you behave, you have my permission to fuck Twinkles once a week. I will watch to ensure you perform properly." He leered evilly. "I might even join in. It could be interesting to fuck you while you are fucking your... ass..."