Date: Mon, 11 Jul 2016 00:36:17 +0000 (UTC)
From: Christian Debus <servus4u@ymail.com>
Subject: "Simianopolis"

Simianopolis

Posted by Jean-Christophe, July 2016

My stories are archived at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories
and at
http://jeanchristopheworld.tumblr.com

This is a story of fiction meant to be read by adults over the age of
eighteen years

This story remains the intellectual property of the writer who respectfully
asks that you don't alter the storyline without asking his permission.

The story was written some time ago and it is my first and only attempt at
science fiction. Obviously it is inspired by that epic, science-fiction
novel, "Planet of the Apes" by the French author, Pierre Bouille which had
a profound effect on me as a youngster and which helped define my
character.

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these stories to the readers.  If you'd like to help financially, please
donate to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Rollo has an orangutan's natural aversion to losing money. Indeed, it is
his avarice that has him travelling out to the knackery beyond the city
limits where he hopes to recoup some of his loss on the injured man- beast
running laboriously behind his cart. His anger is palpable and he
relentlessly applies his whip to the exposed haunches of the second
man-beast harnessed between the shafts of his cart urging the animal to
greater speed.

The injured man-beast, identified by the branded numerals, "287" seared
into its arse is a serious loss and one that Rollo can ill afford at a time
when he is expanding his haulage business. Currently, he operates thirty
drays, each hauled by a team of ten, naked man-beasts, and he has ambitious
plans to extend that number to forty drays which requires not only the
construction of the extra wagons but the acquisition of another ten teams
of man-beasts to power them.

"287" had been a recent acquisition and hadn't come cheaply. Supply of the
man-beasts is strictly regulated by their culling and capture in the wild
by the gorilla hunters whose role it is to protect the simian farmlands and
orchards from infestations of the ever pestilent, wildebeests. These
creatures, who lack the intellect of even the most primitive
hunter-gatherer to find their own food, simply find it easier to
periodically swarm out of the arid badlands in search of easy food. Even
the sight of crucified man- beasts serving as scarecrows dotted around the
cornfields and orchards doesn't serve as a deterrent. They remain
indifferent to the suffering of their own kind squirming upon their crosses
and continue to wreak havoc on the efforts of the hardworking, simian
farmers.

The gorillas pursue the wild animals with great enthusiasm and such culls
quickly degenerate into wild animal hunts where the wildebeest is pursued
by gorillas mounted on horseback and assisted by packs of slobbering
bloodhounds. Once a cull/hunt is initiated there is little hope for the
unfortunate wildebeests.  The fortunate ones are those killed outright in
the hunt. Their misery is at an end and their carcasses are sent to the
processing plants to be turned into leather, fertilizer or pet food. The
ones who survive are less fortunate. They are segregated by age and sex -
the females and calves are considered unsuitable for hard, physical labor
and they are quickly separated from the males and are consigned alive to
the knackery without any further delay.

The males are graded by age and physical strength into those suitable for
training as work animals to be used as mindless, beasts-of-burden to power
the farmers' plows and the drays and carriages of their new simian
owners. All males considered unsuited and not chosen are also consigned to
the processing plant along with the female wildebeests and the calves.

This provides the simian authorities with a quick, easy solution to the
predation of the wild humans and provides them with valuable raw materials
such as pet food, blood and bone fertilizers, glue and of course, leather
hides for the manufacture of high quality leather accessories for the most
discerning simian customers.

"287" had been captured in such a cull about twelve months ago and he'd
been prepared for his new role as a trained man-beast. Wildebeests are
naturally mute and apart from the most rudimentary grunts they appear to
have lost the ability to speak at some time in their evolution thus sparing
them the need to have their vocal cords severed. This inability to use
speech to communicate with one another is seen by their simian overlords as
a sign of their rudimentary development as a brute species and a sure sign
of a bestial mentality. Speech is what defines the simian race while on the
other hand, the lack of it is what condemns the wildebeest to its animal
status.

By regulation, "287" had been castrated - this is mandatory under simian
law to prevent the unconstrained breeding of the pest species - and his
rear teeth had been extracted ready for the bit and bridle. He'd been
branded to identify when and where he'd been captured and when he'd
recovered he'd been sold at public auction and purchased by Rollo who'd
been impressed with the young man-beast's prodigious physique and strength.

Rollo approves of the gelding of all man-beasts as a matter of course. The
wildebeest is, by nature, a highly sexed, promiscuous animal and left to
its own devices it spends most of its time in attempting to procreate its
unwanted species. In Rollo's wide experience of handling man-beasts, he
knows the three things that matter most to them are fucking, eating and
excreting.

Even when a man-beast is gelded its urge to procreate remains
strong. Whenever a team pauses as their drays are loaded or unloaded, the
filthy animals "dry-hump" one another and attempt to push their useless,
limp pizzles into the arses of the beasts immediately in front of them.

Initially, and as a matter of public decency, Rollo had tried to break his
man-beasts of this most disgusting habit. But even the liberal use of his
whips failed to have any effect and eventually, out of frustration, he'd
given up his attempts; now he simply turns a blind eye to their abhorrent
behavior.

And more importantly from Rollo's perspective, the removal the man-beast's
gonads allows the animal to refocus its energies on its labors. All its
strength is given to pulling the heavy loads demanded of a yoked team of
man-beasts.

Upon purchasing "287" Rollo had promptly added his own brands to his new
man-beast's body and assigned him the number "287". Rollo uses this system
to keep track of all three hundred man-beasts he owns. Quite simply, it
meant that the man-beast is a member of team number 28 and that he is the
seven beast in that team.

Rollo has found the man-beast to be a sociable creature of habit who
quickly "bonds" with its team members. The animals seem to work better as
members of one, familial team making them more productive in their labor
output.

And Rollo hadn't been disappointed in his purchase of "287". The animal had
more than recompensed him for his outlay in buying him. He'd soon proved
his worth and was returning a healthy return on Rollo's investment.

At first, the animal had fought against its capture and enslavement.  It
resisted as the leather bridle and blinkers restricting its vision to the
road ahead were fastened over its head. It shook its head from side to side
as a cruel, metal bit was positioned behind its teeth and it howled in pain
as the spiked, metal, tongue plate, used by its ape-driver to attract its
attention, dug into the tender roof of its mouth.

These are permanent fixtures and once fitted stay on for the duration of
the man-beast's working life. The rationale for this simple. The removal of
the head gear from three hundred animals each evening and then refitting it
next morning means too much time is wasted in getting the teams hitched to
their drays before sunrise. And for Rollo time wasted is money lost. And he
can't abide either wasted effort or lost profits.

Rollo never considers the man-beast's discomfort at having to permanently
wear its head harness. While, it's true that, initially, the creatures do
find it difficult to eat and drink with their bits in their mouths, the
man-beast is an adaptable creature and necessity soon teaches it to eat and
drink without too much difficulty.

The very first time the heavy wooden yoke had been placed across the
shoulders of "287" and his team- mate and fastened around their necks, he'd
struggled violently but a few strokes of his ape-driver's whip had settled
him and he stood docilely as his wrists were manacled to the heavy, wooden
pushing bar placed at chest-height and arm's length in front of him. This
is one of the two "engines "which power the dray. The other are the beasts'
powerful arse muscles and strong legs and thighs which move it forward at a
steady speed.

The position of the pushing bar angles the man-beast's body forward thus
exposing more of its naked body to the coercive caress of the drivers'
whips. More of the animal's back and arse are available to the sting of the
lash and the encouragement to increase its efforts and speed.

"287" had soon found his footing within the team as he matched his speed
and strength to that of his nine team mates and he'd quickly proved his
worth to his new owner. Rollo always considered a team of strong, young
man-beasts working together in perfect unison as a thing of beauty. The
weight of a fully laden dray places great stress on the team as it
struggles to keep its load moving forward at a steady pace.  With the
muscles of their bodies stretched to almost snapping point, their flexing
biceps knotted into tight balls of power, with their leg tendons stretched
taut, the rapid rise and fall of their mighty chests, the deep, stentorious
breathing of overtaxed lungs and the loud grunts of sheer, physical
exertion made the team a powder-keg of raw, physical energy.

As a matter of course, the man-beasts dribble and drool as they bite down
hard on their bits and white flecks of foam fly from the corners of their
widely gaping mouths spraying their fellow team-members.  Their bodies
sweat profusely which adds an oily sheen to their naked torsos and the
sweat slicked hair on their chests, bellies and limbs clings to their
mahogany brown torsos. Obviously, this sweating bothers the restrained
man-beasts who have no way of wiping the perspiration from their eyes and
they must simply suffer in silence. Apart from rain showers, the man-beasts
are never washed - the logistics of doing so offend Rollo's sense of
wasting time and the loss of profits - and the nauseating stench of their
unwashed, sweaty bodies attracts swarms of annoying insects who greedily
feast upon the moisture and other excreta of the animals' bodies. From time
to time, the man-beasts will shake their bodies in a vain attempt to
dislodge the biting, stinging insects. However, their relief is only
temporary as the hungry insects impatiently hover over their unwilling
host's body ready to resettle as soon as the beast has ceased its silent
and useless struggling.

The constant hiss and crackle of whips adds to the cacophony of sound as
the drivers' demand more of their charges. Their insistent and loud demands
for the man-beasts to "pull harder, you lazy beasts! Put your backs into it
or you'll feel the cut of my whip!" add an urgency which the animals always
meet.

Rollo doesn't know for sure if man-beasts are capable of understanding the
simian language but their positive responses to the drivers' exhortations -
and whips - suggest they do have some comprehension and will respond
positively to their drivers' ongoing "encouragement".

And as the whips constantly fall across perspiration-laden backs and
shoulders, the lash sends showers of tiny, sweat droplets flying in all
directions.

Over the past year, this is the life that has confronted "287" since his
capture and enslavement. He'd quickly proved a valuable member of his team
capable of working industriously from sunrise to dusk without any breaks
other that when the team waits as its dray is loaded or unloaded. At first,
he didn't join in the "dry-humping" activities of his team-mates. Whether
this was caused by shyness or as a result of the after-shock of the
gelding-knife it is impossible to say. However, familiarity overcomes all
obstacles and soon "287" began to rub his now useless prick against the
muscular haunches of the animal immediately in front of him. Conversely, he
seemed more than happy to reciprocate by positioning his own curvaceous
arse and spreading his legs as an invitation to the man-beast to his rear
to fuck him.  Despite his revulsion at the obscene spectacle of his
geldings trying to fuck one another, their desperate but ultimately
fruitless efforts amuse Rollo and cause him to chuckle at the hopelessness
of their situations.

Rollo considered this abhorrent behavior as just another example of the
animal's bestiality. The urge to procreate never really dies within them
even when they lose their balls; their urge to fuck is too deeply ingrained
in the filthy brutes' nature and proves too powerful for them to ignore
their animal urges.

And it is a powerful and legitimate argument for why Rollo believes in the
compulsory castration of all man-beasts immediately upon capture.

Through his labor, "287" has returned a handsome profit on his original
purchase price to Rollo and one which should have satisfied him. However,
from Rollo's perspective, each of his man-beasts is a financial investment
and he expects each investment to return a healthy dividend to his
coffers. To that end, Rollo is never satisfied and demands much of his
animals and his employees. A hard taskmaster, he drives his employees
relentlessly and his teams of man-beasts even more so in the pursuit of
ever more business and profit and the miserable beasts-of-burden suffer
cruelly for the orangutan's avarice.

Despite the merciless and back-breaking demands made upon him, "287" should
have worked productively for several more years. The young animal is strong
and over the past year he has developed a robust physique that never seems
to falter and undoubtedly part of this is down to the liberal use of the
whip. But "287" seemed equal to the challenge and it came as a nasty shock
to Rollo when the man-beast was injured in an unnecessary accident.

To his delight Rollo had recently won a contract from a major developer to
deliver lumber and blocks of building masonry from the timber mills and
quarries several miles out from the city to a construction site in
Simianopolis. Eager to please, and with an eye to the future, Rollo
allocated five drays and teams to the contract and he promised the
developer prompt delivery of the building materials. It goes without saying
this placed great stress on both his drivers and their teams and Rollo
insisted the time spent on the road between the mills and quarries be
shortened by increasing the speed of the teams and that one extra delivery
per team be fitted into each day.

The disgruntled drivers resented this added pressure on them; after all the
physical demands of driving a cumbersome team of man-beasts required a good
amount of skill and patience and they believed Rollo didn't understand the
effect his decision would have on them and their charges. The animals
needed to be coerced to perform faster and this could only be done with the
heavy-handed use of their whips. And wielding a heavy whip over the backs
and shoulders of a lumbering team of man-beasts can be very exhausting.

And yet, despite their resentment, the drivers did as Rollo demanded. The
fact that being a teamster in charge of ten, lumbering, evil-smelling
brutes is frowned upon by most simians, the drivers valued their jobs and
weekly incomes too much to protest. And so they simply acquiesced.

Naturally, any undue pressure placed on the drivers and overseers must
inevitably lead to carelessness and a relaxation of safety. And so it was
inevitable that an accident would happen.

Homeward bound on the last trip for the day, the exhausted man-beasts
looked forward to a night's rest in their stables. 287 and his team mates
struggled under a heavy load of lumber as the drivers' shrill exhortations
to "hurry along you lazy beasts" assailed his ears and their whips
remorselessly scourged his back and arse. Dusk was falling as the convoy of
five teams lumbering one behind the other approached the last hill of the
trip. 287's team was the last in the line of heavily laden drays.

The road leading to and from the quarries and the lumber-mills is
undulating with several steep hills which the teams have to negotiate with
difficulty. When approaching a hill, the drivers usually whip their teams
to make them pull harder and move faster. The rationale for this being that
the momentum of the increased speed would be enough for the team to reach
the crest of the hill with its heavy load. And usually it works.

But at day's end both the drivers and the man-beasts were exhausted. Their
exhaustion and the unrealistic demands made of them by Rollo's greed was a
recipe for disaster. The staccato cracking of many whips, the ever
demanding exhortations of the drivers and the grunting and groaning of the
laboring man-beasts echoed throughout the gathering dusk adding a surreal
atmosphere to an already fraught situation.

Three teams had breasted the rise and had disappeared from sight over the
brow. After the backbreaking exertion of the uphill climb, the three teams
of man-beasts eagerly began the downhill run into the city.  No doubt they
looked forward to full bellies and a good night's rest before their labors
began again at dawn.

The fourth team labored up the steep incline and 287's driver wisely kept a
good distance between it and his team. Suddenly, the fourth team stalled
and it's unclear why. Perhaps the team of man-beasts had reached the limits
of their physical abilities or perhaps it was "driver error". Whatever the
reason the consequences were dire. The driver of the stalled team applied
his whip mercilessly to the backs of his animals all to no avail. Within
moments he was joined by other overseers who cruelly scourged the backs and
arses of the stalled team.

For several minutes nothing happened. The stalled team struggled under the
whips to regain their lost momentum. However, the weight of the lumber on
the dangerously overloaded dray began to shift. With a loud, creaking noise
several heavy pieces of lumber fell off of the dray and began to roll
downhill towards the last team.

To avoid a collision with the fallen lumber, 287's driver steered his team
to the side of the road. In the gloom he'd not seen the shallow drain until
too late. His team veered off the road and down the incline into the
ditch. Fortuitously, and with great skill, he brought his team to a halt as
the lumber rolled past on its downhill journey. The driver's quick action
had avoided a collision and averted a serious accident. Or so it seemed.


After a superficial inspection of their drays and teams in the gathering
dusk, both drivers were relieved to see no apparent, serious damage had
been done. They quickly recovered the fallen lumber and secured it back on
the dray. After some discussion, they decided not to tell Rollo of the
"incident" in case he docked their wages as a penalty or even worse
terminated their employment.

It wasn't until later, after they'd returned to Rollo's stables, that
another supervisor noticed 287's obvious distress. He was moaning in pain
and his left arm hung uselessly at his side. A quick inspection showed that
287/s collarbone had been dislocated as the team lunged into the ditch. The
supervisor had no other option but to report 287's injury to a furious
Rollo. Under his withering interrogation both drivers admitted to what had
happened and Rollo was beside himself with rage. Both drivers had tried to
deceive him and worse still, they'd fail to notice the injury to one of his
top-performing man-beasts. Such disloyalty couldn't go unrewarded and both
drivers were summarily sacked for their offences.

Rollo's main concern wasn't over 287's obvious pain and distress; that left
him unaffected. Rather his concern was at the expense of having his injured
man-best treated by a veterinarian. Because of the lateness of the hour,
Rollo decided he wasn't prepared to pay a special call out rate to have a
vet attend to 287. No, the animal would have to wait until next morning for
treatment and Rollo had the man-beast placed in isolation in a holding-cage
overnight. Hopefully, the animal would soon recover and return to its place
in the team after the vet's examination and treatment. Of course, Rollo
fretted over the unexpected expense this entailed.

But Rollo was doomed to even further disappointment. After a close
inspection, the veterinarian told Rollo the man-beast's injury was too
severe to be treated successfully. Pressed by Rollo, the vet told him he
couldn't guarantee a successful resetting of the collarbone and that in all
probability the arm would be greatly weakened and would, over time, loose
is strength. He told Rollo treating his injured man-beast would be throwing
good money after bad.

Instead he suggested that the man-beast be mercifully "put down" out of its
pain and misery and quoted a fee to euthanize 287; an offer quickly
rejected by the money-hungry Rollo. Or as a cheaper alternative, the vet
suggested Rollo take his man-beast to the knackers where he understood he'd
received fifteen cents for every pound of the animal's live-weight.

Rollo almost choked at the news that his valuable man-beast was worth so
little to the operators of the processing plant. When pressed for more
detail, the vet told him 287's worth was limited by the poor quality of his
hide. It had been thickened and coarsened by exposure to the elements and
it was badly whipped marked and the leather made from it would be of a
poorer grade suitable only for making harness and whips. However, the one
redeeming feature was the amount of protein that could be harvested from
the animal's carcass. The man-beast was in excellent condition and had a
healthy covering of meat on its bones. Particularly that on the animal's
arse and chest which produced the best quality, deluxe food for the
discerning pet-owner.

Grudgingly, Rollo paid the vet for his visit and then ordered his personal
pony and trap to be made ready for the trip out to the knackery.

Now, as he approaches the processing plant, Rollo's mood darkens.
Disregarding the distress he is causing to 287 running at the rear of his
trap, Rollo applies his whip to his pony straining between the shafts.
Someone or something has to bear the brunt of Rollo's anger and
frustration. And his monetary loss!

End