Date: Wed, 22 Mar 2017 20:26:49 +0000 From: "out-cast@hotmail.com" Subject: Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures "Pleased to meet you, Owen," Dr Frankel says, smiling. I smile back and shake the hand of my new boss, or tutor, or whatever term an apprentice vet is supposed to use towards his superior. "I am sure we'll make a fine veterinary out of you. A proper vet, not one of those city boys who only treat hamsters and Chihuahuas. Although, tell me honestly, do you feel you should have joined a small animal practice?" I do – feel I should have joined a small animal practice, that is – I do not honestly tell him that, though. Instead, I smile some more and assure him that farm animals are all I have ever been interested in. Veterinary apprenticeships are hard enough to come by; no sense throwing away a chance, even if it isn't the perfect one. "You may as well leave your jacket on, we're needed. And it is an important client, so be on your best behaviour." Bouncing along in Dr Frankel's Landrover, I am filled in: the client is the local stud farm, the animal in need is Blue Boy. I'll admit that I am horse racing philistine, but even I know who Blue Boy is: Winner of the Derby and the St Leger, sold for something like 12 million a couple of years ago to be put out to stud. When Blue Boy is ill, the country sits up and takes notice. I feel a lot happier suddenly. If this is the type of patient I will get to deal with, perhaps my new job is a better opportunity than I anticipated. At the prosperous looking, squeaky clean stud farm, we are rushed into the stables, where the stud manager and half the staff receive us with panicked looks. The stallion behind them looks magnificent, without a doubt the most majestic animal I have ever been close to: rippling muscles moving under a silky dark chestnut coat. He nervously steps crabwise across the stall, though, the distress clearly noticeable in his body language. "Yes, that looks pretty swollen," my boss says as he kneels next to the stallion and gently touches the manhood swinging heavily between Blue Boy's hind legs, so vast it almost touches the straw on the floor. The animal snorts, but doesn't try to avoid the vet's hands, as if he knows that help is coming. Dr Frankel curses quietly, as his fingers probe the horse's huge balls. "There you are, you bastard," he mutters to no one in particular. "I am afraid that he's got an intraurethric globular obstruction that prevents the evacuation of his testicles," the vet explains turning towards the manager. "The testicles are swollen to bursting and need to be emptied. Basically, he needs to cover a mare." "What, now?" "Yes of course now. Good grief, man, we cannot lose time. The pressure inside the testicles is building to damaging levels. If Blue Boy doesn't have an orgasm very soon, he'll very likely end up sterile." The manager blanches, "but ... it is outside the mating season. All the mares are pregnant ... there is none in heat ready to cover." The doctor swears and with barely a moment's pause turns towards me. "Owen, take off your trousers." "WHAT?!" "Don't just stand there, boy. That is a multimillion-pound stallion there and he needs my help. I am the vet, you are my apprentice, now take off your trousers." At a nod of my boss, two strong stable lads grab my upper arms and protesting I get dragged over to a workbench. In seconds, I am on my back, naked from the waist down and with my legs pulled up and spread wide by my two assailants. Blue Boy is brought over until he towers over my body. Paralysed by fear and confusion, I watch his vast swollen cock pointing at me. 20 inches at least, 24 more like, and even the narrowest point must be over 3 inches wide. Oh Jesus, surely they don't expect me to be fucked by that, the head is the size of a grapefruit! "You have to take him deep, Owen, before you let him come. It will have to be a massive orgasm to shift the obstruction." "You can't ... I mean, I can't take ..." "Oh, stop moaning. You're helping to treat a priceless animal." He grabs the monster cock with both hands, and aims it at my arse. "Once the head is in, it will all be easy enough. Take him deep. Remember, deep!" I watch helplessly as Blue Boy bucks and with a single lunge drives his manhood hard into me, ripping my arse to shreds – or at least that is what it feel like. With two or three hard thrusts, the first 10 inches of horse cock are rammed down my gut, driving the air from my lungs. "Good lad, that's it. Let him in, and give him time to build up a good orgasm." Let him in? As if I have any choice. The pain is mind blowing. The stallion is fucking me proper now with fast stabs, each one deeper than the previous. He forces more and more of his huge cock into my belly and I am helpless to stop him. I can only wait for him to be sated, wait for the orgasm that will end this ordeal. In the background I can hear the stable lads, "Oh my God, how the hell can he take a pounding like that?" "Look at his arse. It is stretched so tight around that cock ... I think his arse will tear before this is over." "Do you think he will take all of it?" One of them laughs, "I don't think he has much choice!" The base of the stallion's dick is even wider than the centre, and every new thrust further distends my virgin arsehole. My hole has given up the fight and now just accommodates however big the invader, stretching to incredible and agonising widths. "Keep him going, Owen, take him in, all of him. Good lad." All too soon, all 24 hard inches of solid horsemeat are pouncing through me again and again, seemingly all the way up to my chest. My gut is stretched tautly around the massive head and my organs are being pummelled every time it smashes through. Blue Boy's grossly swollen balls slam against my thighs. How the hell does that cock fit inside me? All of it, every single inch, including the sheath! With every thrust, I can see my belly bulge under the immense pressure, the outline of his flared head visible through my belly wall, like the movie alien trying to burst out. It suddenly hits home that I am being long-dicked by a stallion. A stallion that is desperately trying to cum and that is fucking for his life. I am on the receiving end of a horse cock that is driven in with all the raw power a thoroughbred can muster, and while it feels I cannot take much more of this punishment, I powerless and the Boy just forces me take more by ramming his cock into me, harder and harder. It takes almost half an hour. Half an hour of almost unbearable battering for me. Half an hour of nervously building silence from the awed spectators. Half an hour of relentless thrusting by the stallion, ever faster, ever harder and ever more frantic, until an explosion of scorching hot thick cum fills my gut. Blue Boy neighs with audible relief, but doesn't let up his wild lunging fuck. For five of six more minutes he keeps driving his massive pole into my cum-filled gut, hot seed squelching from me with every thrust, while constant blasts of new juice keep my bowel filled to the brim. Finally the punishing tempo drops and, as the acute agony in my gut lessens, I realise how much my body hurts. My muscles seem to have torn themselves to shreds trying to resist the onslaught. Carefully I allow myself to relax. "Good boy," Dr Frankel says, as Blue Boys manhood drops from my abused hole, although I am not sure whether he means the horse or me. "Good boy." He pads the stallion's rump, while probing the testicles. "Good job, Owen. You must have drained three or four pints from them just now. The obstruction has shifted and in a couple of days he should be good as new." Blue Boy is led away surrounded by staff and vet. I lie on my bench, still holding my widespread legs. My belly is extended by the vast amount of cum the stallion shot deep into my gut, the sticky liquid running down my arse cheeks. Feeling bruised, battered and strangely proud, I try to make sense of what just happened. My fingers gently probe the edges of my widely gaping arsehole. Have I really just been raped violently by a race horse? Raped! By a horse! Is that what being a country vet is all about? A fire alarm is beeping in the distance. Beep ... beep ... beep ... I shoot up in bed and after a moment of confusion silence the alarm clock. 7:00 Time to get up. Time for my first day at my new practice. As I get out of bed, my bum complains from the ravaging Peter, my current lover, gave me last night. He is kind and handsome, but at 8 inches more heavily hung than I find comfortable. What was I dreaming just now? It was something about the day ahead, but I cannot remember anything other than a vague sensation of excitement and fear. Am I really sure, I am suitable to be a farm vet? Perhaps it is not too late to find a placing at a small animal practice.