Part 3
“Let me remove the geisha balls, then we are nearly finished for the night. Push.”
Here came the part that mortified Tony most, no matter how clinically professional Ducky acted. It was bad enough in human form, but worse in centaur. Weeks of changed diet to alter his digestion and a string of massage balls up his channels to prevent embarrassment and injury had taken over his life, to Hades with it all. Most of the time he even forgot about wearing them but now they were like the proverbial pink elephant. Ducky's accompanying story wasn't helping the situation in the least.
“This reminds me; ten years ago there was a really fascinating exhibition about these clever little helpers. The most beautiful geisha balls were always made in Japan, that's where the name originates from. They can have a lot of different purposes, were even in ancient times calibrated to stimulate targeted areas for additional strength and flexibility. Do you know that back in Greece the balls that were used to prepare companions for their first heat were, in the rich families, made of mouth blown glass and precious cabochon jewels? They were decorated with symbols for good luck on the battle field, protection and a long, productive life. Sometimes a special set of them would be on display on the house altar, waiting to be used by the next youngling. Sometimes a warrior would offer a set of balls made to his specifications to his intended as a promise that he would be in the ring, defending the mate against other stallions. A promise to take care of his every need.”
“I wouldn't like to stuff something up my bum that has been used by my great-great uncle, no offense Ducky.” Tony pressed out between his teeth and ignored the other parts of the lecture.
He wasn't a teenaged colt who was giddy because he was allowed to buy his first geisha balls!
“Well, of course. Today's silicone training balls might be less visually stunning, but they are far more sanitary.”
Tony clenched his internal muscles and could feel how the round tormentors shifted and hummed. He pointedly didn't turn around but pressed his forehead harder against his arms. Little weights within the balls were meant to stimulate the musculature. With the help of Ducky tugging carefully on the silicone thread the training balls gently plopped out of his body one by one until the older male held a full string of five balls. Tony gritted his teeth and did his best to ignore the way his muscles tried to clench around something that wasn't there anymore.
He wasn't blind to the signs. His body was gearing up for action.
Two months ago the constant, increasing strange pain attacks he had suffered from had made him seek help from the M.E. Tony had freaked when Ducky had told him the reason for the annoying belly cramps. The agent didn't want to believe that the vestigial organ every centaur shared had finally decided to fully develop, hidden behind a thin barricade of skin. Then the stupid membrane had developed a hole, making denial impossible. And started leaking. For fucks sake, Tony had been forced to put padding in his boxer shorts!
“No sign of tearing and no soreness, well done. Everything seems to be working fine, even with the fighting you did today.” Ducky praised and repeated the extracting process with the smaller vaginal beads. It took more time to coax them out of the opening. For traditions' sake, it was said to bring bad luck to tear the hymen before the first mounting, the doctor took care not to over-stretch or tear the thin layer of skin that guarded this channel. Due to his advice Tony hadn't either. Presenting himself to the council untouched - and wasn't that a particularly bad joke - guaranteed that he would have to deal with only one prospective stud at the time instead of a mass of randy soldiers. Something about not overwhelming an inexperienced first timer.
To say that the council was a bunch of conservatives would be an understatement.
Such a pity that Tony had never planned to give in to their plans for him, wasn't it?
Normally he would relish any positive attention thrown his way. Today all the praise for a job well done made Tony grumble. The Katas and extra training while wearing the balls in preparation for this circus had paid off handsomely. He couldn't have afforded the distraction. Now Tony only had to convince the council that he was not mate material, no matter the count of his active organs, and everything would be fine.
“Mating can be rough. Tempers run high. You have to be prepared. Do I have to lecture you again on the dangers of internal tearing and infection? Even with the right medical care, the supplements to your diet and -
“No pizza!” Tony interrupted him petulantly but was ignored.
“-the inside of your rectum is not exactly sanitary.” Ducky put the offending training devices into two shallow dishes full of soapy liquid. They would be carefully cleaned overnight so they could be used again tomorrow. “Dear boy, why do you always have to make everything harder than it has to be?”
“This would have been fine and dandy some fifteen years ago when all I had on the brain was sex. I wouldn't have minded a two week long orgy then, but now I'm more settled in my ways.”
Tony saw the raised eyebrow and the skeptical tilt of Ducky's head out of the corner of his eye and relented. Considering the tall tales he loved to share with his team mates... “Oh, come on. I'm not that bad, just used to breasts and softer curves and the thought of a strange male dominating me... no, just no.”
“Some scientists have the theory that Zeus created our bodies able to adapt when the situation calls for it. There are more hermaphrodites born and coming into heat in times of war to center the guards and guardians, more fillies born in times of peace.”
Tony wriggled, clenched down purposefully and pulled a face. Another half hour and he would be dripping wet again. It was kind of disgusting. And embarrassing. “You can't honestly believe that me going into heat is a portent of doom, the sign for WWIII beginning soon or something similar!”
“You will have some truly spectacular bruises tomorrow. I'll apply some ointment before you go to sleep.” Ducky was now rubbing him down with towels, professionally massaging his aching muscles. “Another theory says that when two very compatible potential mates interact, their bodies change to match their needs.”
Tony stamped his hooves, abandoned his leaning position and defiantly crossed his arms across his chest. “Don't go there Duck, don't you dare.”
“Anthony-” the older male tried again but Tony cut him off harshly.
“He's not here, he does not care. He was never interested in me romantically; he's a mare's stud through and through. Gibbs told me to have a good time and to be back on time or else, when I had to apply for heat related leave, for fuck’s sake!” Tony shouted. Hysterical laughter bubbled in his throat. “A fucking good time,” he brokenly added.
Ducky lowered his eyes and tugged at the hem of his robe sleeves.
“Ahem, may I please have your attention?” A voice from the entrance to the stall demanded and made them both turn around. This was unusual. The aftercare was private time between a Companion and his trainer.
.-#-.
Part 4
“Master Jerome.” Ducky greeted him with a respectful bow.
Staring at them with inscrutable gray eyes, the Master of the Arena was radiating stoic disapproval. Even in human form he was easily over six feet tall and neither the deep wrinkles in his face nor the snow white hair could distract from the well trained body under his robes, or the power this individual wielded over everyone under his reign. Which included, for the near future, Tony and Ducky.
“There has been a change in plans,” Jerome announced coldly, pointedly ignoring the spat he had witnessed. His gaze lingered on the geisha balls and longer, accusingly on the unused white bindings on the shelf.
“You aren’t sending me back into the ring tonight?!” Tony exclaimed, his anger at his friend suddenly forgotten. Surely they weren't this cruel?
“No, of course not. The next companion in line has taken the freed time slot in arena six and I would never disturb an ongoing ritual.” Jerome didn't wait for a retort and instead focused his attention on Ducky. “How is his condition?” he demanded to know.
Donald Mallard might like to present himself as a friendly, harmless and slightly distracted individual but if the occasion warranted it Tony had seen the old M.E display an attitude that would make Queen Victoria green with envy. This was such a case. Ducky positioned himself between the Arena Master and his friend. “Not surprisingly, considering his condition and how he spent his day, young Anthony is exhausted and his temperature is elevated. He needs rest more than anything else, certainly not new excitement.”
Tony was annoyed that they excluded him from the conversation but not enough to butt into it. The white haired male had never looked too impressed with him from the moment of their arrival onward, no need to anger him further. Ducky was right, Tony wasn't up for another sparring match, not even a verbal one.
“You might want to reconsider those plans. And it looks like you don't have the needed tools at hand to prepare him but that is something I can help with.” Jerome waved a person standing behind him forward. It was a young naked female and she was carrying a beautifully crafted wooden box. And didn't it say something about his condition that Tony couldn't even rouse himself to appreciate that free display of perkiness?
At first glance the box looked like a solid, unadorned block of wood, polished to satiny perfection. No decoration distracted from the way the dim light in the hallway made the grain of the wood gleam softly. Then Jerome snapped his fingers and his assistant applied pressure to one spot and a lid flipped up to expose the contents. Tony lacked direct line of sight so he could only watch and observe Ducky's reaction without turning around, an impossibility due to the size of the stall.
“Oh my,” Ducky murmured.
Jerome sniffed and looked around once more. “Tamara will lead you to a more appropriate wing of the stables. It seems as if we have been misinformed about his...status.” He didn't need to add that he was not amused and would let his dissatisfaction known to the responsible parties.
“You are going to punish me for kicking those losers' asses by sending me to the barracks?” Tony tried, despite the lack of space, to turn around. He wanted to be face to face to the white haired jerk instead of presenting him his ass. “I did nothing wrong, I took care to look it up beforehand in the rule book! I read the whole thing and let me tell you, it is boring. I'm allowed to assess a stallion's worth before submitting to him, they were all lacking.”
Wow, and now, from the look of the raised mouth corners he had somehow managed to amuse Jerome the Unflappable. “For a professional investigator you are very prone to jump to conclusion, Anthony DiNozzo. Your display of…fighting spirit elevates your status. No matter your regrettable pedigree and past interaction with loose females, all things that would normally prevent you being presented to higher circles for consideration as a mate, business males and other civilian stallions are not a good match for your needs. Nor is it likely that you would match theirs. A guardian on the other hand would cherish a mate who is able to fight at his side.”
Regrettable pedigree? Oh, how his father would howl in fury if he could have heard this comment, he had always been so proud of the DiNozzo ancestry.
The young mare tilted the box and made a few steps to the side. Now Tony was able to see what was inside. There were four strings of geisha balls nestled into a bed of white satin. Two obviously intended to be used in centaur form, the other two sized smaller, for human needs.
Tony gulped. Sized for every aspects of his nature might have been an optimistic thought. He eyed the third smallest set and could feel himself tremble in frightened anticipation. Not one of these balls resembled the cheerily colored training balls he was used to. Whatever these were made of, the surface looked just as smooth as the generic silicone devices but it was made of some kind of silver metal, they were works of art. More beads. Bigger than his old ones. With seamless raised patterns that gave the impression of movement. Beautiful, every one of them, but why would he need those now?
“You have two days. Prepare him well, Doctor Mallard. I don't want him or his potential mate to suffer because of his bullheadedness. No matter his opinion about the Council and our traditions-” Jerome paused to send a stern look at Tony. “Time has proven that we are not perpetuating, how did your charge so charmingly formulate it? - institutionalized rape just to amuse the perverse old council members. There are only a very few cases a year where a centaur is against celebrating the new stage in their life. Our traditions provide a setting that allows us to present a high number of compatible individuals to each other. In the hope of forging lasting bonds beyond the heat. Something which is especially important when it comes to the needs of the individuals who guard our society against threats.”
If that's what these people had to tell themselves so they could sleep at night, good for them. Tony just had to get through this and he would be free for nearly a full year until the next Season.
He never wished for much, did he?
.-#-.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.