8. Tawnie and the little Arab.

"Sylvia, said the overseer, I would like you to ride Tawnie back to the stable and let her have some free time. Do not remove her from the cart or her harness; I will be taking her for a little run when I get back."

Everyone knew that Tawnie was the personal property of Jasmine and that no one was allowed to ride her except for the overseer, Ramon, and of course the Sheik. On special occasions such as this, Sylvia was allowed to take Tawnie back to her stall.

Tawnie was placed in the paddock area, although not released from her harness or cart; she was allowed to run free.

It was at this time that the little Arab, the one with the scar across his cheek, saw his chance. No one was around and thought this an opportune time to take this overly pampered filly for a ride.

The Arab stepped into the sulky, cautiously looking about, he knew that Tawnie was owned by the Princess and only she was allowed to ride. He took up the reins, including the tight underneath rein to which Tawnie so strongly objected. She stood in correct discipline, feet together, head pulled back by the bearing rein, and much as it infuriated her to have to do so for the indolent Arab, she realized he was waiting for her to arch her back and present her hindquarters for the initial touch of the whip. After a tense moment, the lovely mare followed her training, and the Arab smiled in delight, as her quivering body responded and the beautiful bottom was offered for his attention. He placed the first smack of the whip perfectly at the bottom of her buttocks, twitched the reins, and with a perfectly trained motion the little mare moved off at a trot. The bit jingled, the head tossed, and the limbs were in perfect precision, high stepping exactly level.

Then, smiling to himself, the Arab pulled steadily on the underneath rein. Again he used the whip on her, harder and with more force than needed, bringing up a nasty red welt. "Faster you little cow, he shouted, as he struck her again, raising another welt. How he loved using that whip! Her lovely, undulating body had to respond, and the mare's thighs drew apart without interrupting her steady gait. He knew how much she must resent the picture, which she now presented to him; hindquarters flared apart, strong thighs and legs pounding in response to the control of the reins on the bit.

Unknown to him, he was spotted by Goldwing, who ran into the stable and told the Overseer, "Sir, I may be punished for speaking out, but the Arab that had me beaten and threatened to take away my foals, just took Tawnie out for a ride."

"Goldwing, you will not be punished; I will inform his Highness of this immediately."

Duly he reined in, tethered his mare, and without loosening any of her smart harness, toyed with a breast in admiration before raising the nipple to his lips and helping himself to a long delicious draft of the creamy milk. "A pleasant drink is more delightful, don't you think, especially when taken from such charming containers such as yours." Fondling a breast, he squeezed gently to produce a sudden squirt, then caught a nipple in his lips and sucked happily.

The Sheik rode up beside them; dismounted from the strong young stallion he was riding, tethered him beside Tawnie, and turned to the Arab. "You know that this mare is not to be ridden by anyone but family or her handlers?"

Trying a bluff he thought might work, the Arab spoke out, "But your Highness, you said that I may ride any of your private stock. I wish to purchase this delightful mare. I plan to have her brought to foal and sell them off. I am willing to pay as much one hundred fifty thousand dollars 'American' for her."

Tawnie could not believe this conversation was taking place, was his Highness going to sell her to this awful, cruel person?

"Generous as your offer is my friend; I am not at liberty to sell this delightful mare. She is the pride of my daughter and also her personal owner. Several of my friends want to buy her for breeding, but she has been fixed and can not be brought to foal. She is Jasmine's pony and will never sell her. I must return to the Estate, you will take Tawnie back and return her to the stables."

As the Sheik rode off, the little Arab was furious. 'How could he refuse such a generous offer?' As he got back into the sulky his temper was at an all-time high. Not even waiting for Tawnie to present her ass for the whip, he struck her so hard she stumbled and almost fell over.

"Get moving you fat, lazy, slut of a cow." Again he struck her with the whip.

Tawnie now had two red welts on her left thigh that cut the flesh and had blood running down it. He would not let up; as they went on he kept whipping her. Nothing she did would please him. She was a mass of welts on both thighs as well as her ass and back.

What had she done so wrong to deserve this? Hadn't she done all that was commanded of her? No matter how hard she tried, nothing pleased the Arab.

No one was in the paddock area when they arrived, he tethered her to the post by her nose ring so tight that she could do nothing but stand there. She was exhausted and sweaty, the blood running from the many cuts over her abused body. She could do nothing but stand there in sheer agony.

It was at this time that Sylvia came into the paddock area. At seeing Tawnie standing there, she let out suck a high shriek that the overseer came running to find out what happened.

Sylvia was sitting on the ground with Tawnie lying on her lap. Sylvia was crying hysterically, "Who could do such a thing, my poor little Tawnie, who? Why?

It was Goldwing who spoke out, "It was that little bastard Arab; I saw him take Tawnie out for a ride."

The overseer picked up Tawnie and carried her to Sylvia's quarters, giving Goldwing a look that shook her to the core. He placed Tawnie on a cot, on her front, and removed her harness, bitt and bridle. He told one of the stable hands to go to the Estate and tell the Sheik what happened and call the doctor.

"Sylvia, get the healing balm, some warm water and soft clean cloths."

By the time he finished speaking, Sylvia was handing him the warm, wet cloths. He was applying the balm just as the Sheik, along with doctor walked in.

Seeing Tawnie the Sheik was aghast. "If I find out who did this...

"Goldwing you may speak," said the overseer.

"Goldwing, if you know who did this, speak up now," ordered the Sheik.

"Yes your Highness, I believe it was that little Arab. He was the one who brought me to the stud farm when I was to be impregnated. He whipped me unmercifully when he found out he could not buy me. He was the one that threatened to take away my babies and sell them. Please, your Highness, do not whip me for speaking out. I..."

"Goldwing, no one is going to whip you. You only spoke when given permission to do so, said the Sheik.

"I want a thorough search of this island; I guarantee he will be found."

A search was carried out but he was not to be found on the island. A guard told the searchers that he saw the Arab board a boat that was heading towards the mainland.

As the search was going on, the doctor gave Tawnie a complete physical exam. "She will need a few stitches but otherwise is a healthily young mare. "Just let her rest a few days and I will be back in two weeks too remove those stitches."

Her harness was left off, as was her bridle and bit. She was only let out to do her duty, but still had to be milked daily.

Two weeks had passed and the doctor was removing the stitches when the overseer walked in. "I found out that that little Arab had been found. He was found dead from lead poisoning behind some alley in Algiers.

"Lead poisoning," asked Sylvia?

"Yes, lead poisoning! You know; the three-fifty-seven kind.

"Oh," was all Sylvia said.

"He will never bother you again, little one; you have nothing to fear from anyone anymore. Well maybe just a little if you're bad," said the overseer as he bent over and patted Tawnie's backside.

She looked up at him and gave him one of her pouting frowns, but her eyes, those gorgeous violet eyes, shown like stars.

9. The Sheik's surprise.

The next week the Sheik announced to the staff that he would be away for a short time. He had a plan in the back of his mind that, if everything worked out, would solve all of Tawnie's troubles and bring happiness to one special young girl.

Three days later he found just the right place; it was the perfect place for what he had in mind. The farmhouse was situated on one hundred forty-five acres, set back from the road and hidden from view. The farmhouse needed some work but was structurally sound. The barn needed quite a bit of work, but behind it was a huge workshop that could be converted into stables, and it was heated. He set to work hiring an architect and contractors, getting a guarantee that work would be completed on schedule.

The best part is that its only seven miles from the very school that Jasmine and Tamar are attending.

It has been a little over a week now that Jasmine left the Estate and headed for college. Jasmine and Tamar had settled into their dorm room and were studying when there was a knock on their door. Jasmine got up to answer the door. Standing there was a girl about five-foot seven-inches tall, with long, wavy, light brown hair; she has pale, blue eyes with a hint of gold specks in them. Her face was angelic with an aristocratic nose, and when she smiled, her pearly white teeth could light up a room. All set in a perfect oval face.

'She is quite pretty,' thought Jasmine, 'More like quiet beauty.'

"May I help you," Jasmine asked, after a minute of complete silence?

"Yes, I am looking for Tamar; I understand this is her room.

"Hi Tracy, come on in, said Tamar. As Tracy entered, Tamar continued, "Jasmine, I'd like you to meet Tracy, She is the one that is tutoring me in English. "Tracy, I'd like you to meet Princess Jasmine, my best friend in the world. We've been best friends since little kids.

"Hello Princess Jasmine," she bowed, "I am pleased to meet you.

"Oh, please call me Jasmine, I don't hold to such formalities in front of Tamar, or her friends, unless on formal occasions, and this is not one of them," she smiled.

Tamar and Tracy sat at the desk and started in on Tamar's English assignments. They were working for about an hour when Tamar spoke up, Time for a soda and pee break. Right now I need both. How about you Tracy, want a soda?"

"Yes please, anything will be fine."

While Tamar was getting the sodas, Jasmine asked, "Tracy, could I ask you a sort of personal question?" asked Jasmine.

"Sure, I guess so," replied Tracy.

"How much do you get to tutor someone in English?

"Oh," smiled Tracy, "That's not a personal question; I get ten dollars an hour. Would you like me to tutor you at the same time? I'll charge fifteen for the both of you."

"I was just thinking. How many customers do you have at the present, if I might ask?"

"Right now three others, with you and Tamar, it would be five, two times a week, that would be...

"A total of ninety-five dollars," said Tamar.

Jasmine was quiet; you could see she was in deep thought. "Tracy, please do not take this the wrong way, but---how much would you want if Tamar and I were your only students?"

"But my other students---well I could get another tutor for them...

"Please, think about it while I go to the loo, ok?"

Jasmine was gone a couple of minutes, returning with three more colas in-hand.

"Princess, I mean Jasmine, not to sound rude, but with my own studies and expenses I would need...

"Around two-hundred dollars; two hours a day, three times a week...

"Of course that would include all the soda, ice cream and chips we can consume," piped in Tamar, laughing.

"Tamar, Is that all you think of, your stomach?" Jasmine was now laughing.

"Yup, at the present time it is."

Now Tracy was caught up in the laughter.

"OK Tracy, then you agree?" When could you start?"

"I'd say it would take about a week to find a replacement tutor for my students. How does next Monday sound?"

"Perfect! right Tamar?"

"Great! Now how about some ice cream? I starved!

"Oh Tamar, you and your stomach," quipped Jasmine.

"Well I am! How does strawberry sound to you, Tracy?"

"Sure, I guess so."

"Settled, ice cream first - then we study."

A month had passed and Jasmine was walking around campus like a lost puppy. She never went out. Lost interest in school work and stayed in her room sulking. She was listless, moody and grumpy. Even Tamar couldn't get her out of her slump.

"Hey, what gives? You have been moping around here like you lost your best friend?"

"I have! I miss my pony. I want to go back home and take care of her. I miss going for rides in the surrey and then washing her down. Remember the fun we had that day on my birthday, splashing the soap suds all over, getting more on us than on Tawnie?"

"Yeah, we really had a good time; that was fun."

"I loved to curry her mane and tail, swab her teats with alcohol and milk her. I would spend over an hour in the milking station alone. You know, I even had Father change her stainless steal rings and bands to gold ones. Tamer, Tawnie's collar, you should see it; it is also made of gold and is embedded with sparkling diamonds, dark red rubies and shimmering emeralds. Yes Tamar, I truly miss my little Tawnie."

"Come on Jasmine, snap out of it, Winter break will be here in a couple of months and you will be able to spend the whole time with her."

"I know, but I miss her now."

"Hey, it's Saturday, shopping day, and then a stop at the ice cream shop. Tracy will be here shortly and you promised you would come this time."

"Tamar, sometimes I think you will turn into ice cream!"

"Now that's an interesting thought," her eyes lit up and had on a sheepish grin. "I wonder who I could get to eat me, Mmmmmm?"

"Oh Tamar, sometimes I think you're hopeless."

"Yeah, I know, but its fun."

While all this was going on, the sheik flew back to the island to make the necessary arrangements to have Tawnie, her surrey, and her dressage ready for travel. The surrey and her leather dressage were placed in a crate, along with her metal harness, her high plumed bridle, and both collars, along with both sets of wrist, ankle, thigh and upper elbow bands. The crate was sealed and his family crest was branded onto the lid. This was then labeled, 'farm equipment.'

Having diplomatic immunity it was easy to arrange passports for Tawnie, Sylvia and the blacksmith. He would place Tawnie's bands and collar back on; they would spend a few days at the farm then take a commercial flight home.

The next part was the hardest, Tawnie's hoofs could not be removed; she was placed in a tight fitting corset in place of her girth belt, dressed in the typical Arabian garment known as a burka, that covered her from head to foot with a hood that all but covered her eyes. The bottom hem of the garment was then sewn up. She was carried into the plane, placed in a wheelchair and a large blanket placed over her lap. To look at Tawnie, one would think she was a paraplegic.

When they arrived at the farm it was time to get Tawnie settled in. The corset removed, her girth belt put on and locked on, along with all her bands. She was led out to the paddock area and allowed to relieve herself. The last thing to be replaced was her long flowing tail. She was now back to her true self, Tawnie, the pretty little ponygirl. She didn't know where she was but content just knowing that Sylvia was with her.