4 - Anonymous Stallion Barebacks Horseboy

by Araddion

2014 R. Keith Peck


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My horse dreams began in the fifth grade.

My first dream?  I dreamed that I woke in my bed, naked and innocent. No explanation of where my pajamas had gone. I needed to see ... something.  I looked down at my cock. In those days hardons were a novelty and a wonder. 

But I needed to see ... something.

So my hardon lead my dream-self through our house.  In the empty living room I climbed up onto the couch. Why were the curtains closed? Stupid. I pulled the cord and expose the big picture window. I looked outside, and I let the outside look at me.

And, for the first time in my life, I saw him.

The stallion stood in our yard like a marble statue.  He was blinding white, as if his muscular form and animal fur were composed of searchlight rays.  Seeing me, he turned, displaying a body rippling with power and grace.  I felt his eyes roam over every inch of my naked and immature body. He pawed the turf, and nodded.

His cock slid from his sheath. Having never seen anyone or anything sprout a hardon, it fascinated me. It was like sunrise. The horse's cock was different from my own. Blunt, where I ['m rounded.  And oily where I'm not. But clearly a cock. A gargantuan cock that poured from his sheath like a river over a waterfall. Pink and glistening. It jerked and grew stiff. It smacked against his stomach.

My jaw dropped.

So alien. Kingly. To know the white stallion was to know ... what?

And then his cockhead flared, and he let out a great whinny, and I saw nothing but gushing white fluid, thick and wriggling, great tentacles of shimmering fluid that reached out to embrace me.

I woke, gasping, awed, yet still ignorant, aware only that a question had been posed.

The white stallion trotted through my middle school dreams. Example? My dream-self down at the creek with my buddies. Brazenly the stallion trotted up, dropping his cock, and watched me. I abandoned my friends and ran towards him.  Without moving the stallion seemed to recede into the distance. I ran and ran and ran. My clothes dropped away. I ran naked and found him in a meadow. We cavorted, chasing each other, him whinnying, me giggling. Other horses came, both stallions and mares. I know. I checked between their hind legs, looking for that sheath where marvels slumbered. The white stallion dominated us, looking at me especially while a mysterious equine ritual was conducted.  Circling horses nudged me this way and that. The white stallion was the object of our worship, and the spectator, and our teacher, and the master of the ceremony. At his command the dream became vigorous but indistinct.  I remember brown bristly fur scouring my belly. Hot moisture on my cock. I felt a muscled presence behind me. Something pressed against my asshole.

This dream brought forth gallons of jism, which I spewed onto my flat, hairless belly, gasping and begging for it to happen again.

In high school the dream ceremony became more explicit. My schoolmates were assembled in the gym.  Friends sat in the bleachers on either side of the basketball court.  My best friends were always in the lowest seats with the unobstructed view. I stood in the middle of the gym. I wore a jockstrap. My exposure did not embarrass me. My hardon seemed expected. Everyone waited in quiet anticipation. 

The doors opened.  In trotted the white stallion.  He ducked his head to pass through the door.  Hooves clunked on the burnished court. Dark eyes enfolded me with his power.  He stopped.  My heart thudded in my chest.  I pulled my hardon from my jockpouch and I showed it to the white stallion. He snorted. He turned to confirm for me that he was the same horse I'd seen in all my dreams, displaying his sleek, magnificent muscles. Not just to me but to my friends and classmates in the gym. Rumbling softly like a distant storm, the white stallion's giant cock emerged from his sheath.  The crowd gasped and murmured approbation. When it was hard and throbbing he stomped a hind hoof, like a vizier ramming his staff against the floor to force a subordinate to obedience.

Wordlessly I turned, to discover that behind me sat a very large bale of hay almost as tall as a kitchen table. My task was obvious. I bent over it, supporting myself on my palms. And I spread my legs. Hot air blew between my buttcheeks. The watchers gasped.

Suddenly there was bliss.

But now? My ranchland dream?

This is a dream I've never had before.

I stand at our bedroom window, looking into the night. Forest snores on the bed. I smell his butt on my cock. It is the pit of the night, when everything slumbers, even the stars. Suddenly bright light bathes the space between farm house and the stallions' stables. Equally as sudden, it is dark.

My heart hammers. My chest rises and falls as if I've run a marathon. My hardon twitches against the glass, streaking it with precum.

  Fucking hell I wanna fuck!

This need to explode must be what werewolves feel right before they transform.  I strobe with energy. I blaze with savagery. I kick my legs apart. It's the season. I know it. I need to be bred. Come on, yeah, do it, I'm ready! I feel slutty. I'm a cock junkie in need of my fix.

The light flickers in the yard. In the microsecond between flash and darkness, something sucks me outside.

 I'm naked. My hardon smacks against my chest. The night's warm. The breeze is nervous. The back of my neck tingles. I turn.

Beware! Catastrophe is coming. Something devours the glittering stars.  Line squall. An arc of clouds. Anarchy of nature, curving in a great bow from horizon to horizon. An electric orgy crackles beneath trailing skirts of vapor. And yet for all the violent lightning there's no thunder. None. As if it's not being created. I hear crickets and coyotes and a distant radio playing Johnny Cash. But something steals the sonic energy of thunder before it assaults my ears.

"Nice ass, Horseboy." This rumbling voice, then, is the thunder absent from this scene. "You've always had a nice ass, though."

I turn.

He is beauty and power, the white stallion who rules me. He comes at me, head high. His tail streams like a plume of smoke. The white stallion high-steps. He's always been a show off, and when I grew brave I sought to imitate him. My eyes seek what they naturally seek, but shadows lay thick in his groin.

"Checking me out, aren't you, Horseboy?" He snorts. "You horny fuck."

The stallion canters round me, eyes fixed on me. Three times, then he halts. A flash of lightning. Yes, now I see. His sheath bulges. The opening gapes and something thick and greasy protrudes. His balls are so swollen he has to trot with hind legs splayed to keep from crushing them.

"Big cock," he says. "For a human. You grew up right." He twitches a shoulder, as if shrugging. "Just to make things clear. I'm not interested in your cock.  I just like knowing the sex of my mare."

Mare. That word. Bees swarm through my stomach. I smell him. My foot paws the earth. I drool.

Each and every stallion has his own distinct scent. They're all earthy smells. Take Shaka Rex, for example. I can recognize him from ten feet away. Plow the earth, turn up black sod, bend down and sniff.  That's Shaka Rex. Red Peril? The smoke from a cedar fire. Thor? Heh-heh. Cocaine, man. Thor smells the way cocaine makes you feel. But this one, the white stallion of my dreams? Ever spend any time near an electrical substation? Ever listen to that low crackling hum? Smell that ozone? That's it. That's the smell of the white stallion.

"Yeah," he says. "I now you like me. But how much do you need me?"

He sidles up to me, looking down.  He's a king. A Caesar. His lips curl in a sneer, daring me to try to escape. He bounces a bit on his forelegs. Power and violence seethe beneath his creamy fur. Muscles strive.

I can't breathe. It's like being at the crest of a roller coaster's loop.

Slowly he steps closer. Should I turn around now, and let the bliss begin? Fuck, I want to.

"You don't do anything but look at me."

Ten feet away.  Five feet. One foot. He sets a hoof down an inch away from my bare foot. His teeth gleam in a flash of lightning. If you've never been around a horse, don't let their grace and beauty fool you.  They're power. They're elemental fury wrapped in a cocoon of flesh.

"You smell dirty. Horny. Slutty. You're a mare, HorseboyA mare that needs a colt inside her."

His breathes me.  He guzzles my scent like beer.  His huge nostrils linger above my shoulders.

"Show me your armpits."

I clasp my forearms behind my head.

His nose approaches my pits. Again he breathes. His huge tongue licks his lips. His head lifts to the sky and he lets out a triumphant whinny.

"Breeding time!" Delight flickers in his eyes like a blacksmith's furnace.

He devours me. The white stallion doesn't touch me. He doesn't looks into my face. His eyes roam over my flesh as if my form were something precious to him. A possession. He examines my pectorals. He nods.  He checks my biceps. He nods. My stomach. My thighs. My calves. He sniffs each bit of flesh.

"You've wanted me forever, haven't you?"

I croak, "Yes." My throat is dry.

The stallion lingers a long time at my groin.  Just breathing. Just breathing Horseboy's sweaty funk. I let him.  Look at my hardon, horse.  Look how you make me feel.

"Turn around."

"Do you want to see my ass?"

"Hell yes I want to see your ass!"

Slowly I shuffle round. To prostitute myself to an animal. I want to draw this out. Tease him, the way he's teased me in all our dreams. Step by step, slow as molasses. Let him see my flank.  And when I'm turned around I whore myself. Arch my back. Butt out. Let him lick his lips as he ogles the curve of my buttock. Let him see the nervous light flicker on my buttocks. Let him guess what the shadows in my crack hide.

Let the beast smell my sweat. Let the beast know my need.

He whistles. It's a wolf-whistle, like what you'd hear a construction worker toss a bimbo. "Yeah, Horseboy. That's prime ape ass. My type. Round. Muscled. Tight."

"What's your name?"

"I don't tell mares any of my names," he growls. His teeth fasten to my ass.

"Motherfucker! You bit me!" Pain throbs in my right buttock.

"Couldn't resist.  Couldn't resist. Now turn around. And look at me."

Slowly I turn back.  He's the horse, the master. I'm his boy.  We've always known it. The stallion bends his head down like a king leaning from his throne. His eyes are obsidian.  His ears twitch.

"We've been together in our dreams," murmurs the stallion. "I know what you want. In this dream I'll give it to you. If you've got the balls. Do you know what you want?"

"I want you to fuck me."

"Well," he says, "that's part of it. But I want more. I want to breed you. That's different from a fuck. I want to ... re-create you as something more. Call it transfiguration. Make you into the thing that you really are." His nostrils come so close to mine that we share breath. "Good. You smell hot, Horseboy. You turn me on. You make me want to do things to you, you know? I've watched you strutting around in my dreams for years, showing off that sleek human body, and I look at that tight butt and all I can think about is making a colt come alive inside you."

I swallow. "You're not one of those spirit things ... those spirit guides, are you?"

"Absolutely not. In this dream I'm flesh. I'm blood. And I'm semen. To hell with spirit!  I'm here to breed!"

Ever had a Christmas, or a birthday, when you got the exact present you need? Not the one you asked for, not the one you want, but one that unexpected gift that came from someone who knew you eerily well?

"Yeah, Horseboy," murmur the stallion. "I'm going to breed you. From top to bottom, you're going to be nothing but my cum. It's what you've wanted all your life, isn't it?"

Quivering, I nod.

"Yeah." His lips flutter too. He wants it as badly as me. "You want to do it with a horse. Not only that, you want the whole fucking human race watch you make love with an animal. You're honest. I like that. I'll go rough on you. Don't let that frighten you. Real men like it when a stallion gets rough."

I shiver. "Do you want to fuck me here?"

"The stables," he says. "We need that audience."

"The mares? Or the stallions?"

He laughs. "'The mares.' I won't forget you said that. You want Ekaterina Magna to see you taking me up the ass, don't you?"

"Hell yeah!" You see that, sweetie? You got my colt in you.  Now I'm gonna have my own!

"You're as deviant as I'd hoped. Good. But not the mares. The stallions', of course. They want to watch you. My principle is bros before hos. You and Forest have been teasing them."

Lightning sizzles nearby, and during the flesh we transition to the stable.

His smell must've been ten thousand times more intense for the penned stallions than for me. They must be living in an atmosphere of incipient sex. Incipient breeding. This is for them the primordial moment before the Big Bang. The horses are nuts. They whirl in frenzied circles within their stalls. The clatter of hooves reverberates like an avalanche. They trumpet greetings when we flicker into existence. I don't need to understand their language.  The meaning is clear enough.

Nail him, stud!

Teach that scrawny human punk who's the motherfucking stud!

Breed that ass!

Sloppy seconds!

The white stallion trots down the aisle.  Fuck.  What an ass.  Strong and muscular.  And that tail!  Hiding then revealing his pucker and his giant, heavy nuts.

"Cut loose, fellas!" the stallion calls as he passes. "It's party time!"

Immediately the air reeks of stallion piss. Rivers of urine run from beneath the stall doors. Walking through it is like crossing lava.

My eyes fix upon the white stallion's swinging balls. He senses it. He holds his tail to show them off. They're huge. Two cantaloupes full of microscopic unborn horses, swimming in blissful testosterone liquor. They bulge in a creamy white sack. Fuck, I can hear his seed sloshing in them. Christ, if I had nuts like that I'd fuck all day.

Hot damn!  I'm going to get this beast off!

The stallions stare at me. Sultan. Shaka Rex. Thor. I'm meat at their porn show. Excitement crackles. They thrust their head at me through the door, whinny, neigh, scream, and retire to spin crazily around in their stalls. Then the heads reappear for another look. They hoot and they holler and if they could whistle they would.

The white stallion trots past our sling. "Interesting. But it doesn't work for me. Ah. Here." He makes his way towards ... yes, an oversize bale of hay there in the central aisle.

Do I hear human voices, echoing as if in a large gym, murmuring beneath the sound of sexually overwrought stallions? How many voyeurs are watching our dream? I straighten my back. I flex. I strut. I hope every fucking human eye is turned upon us.

The white stallion halts beside the hay bale.  He looks back at me.  His hind hooves shift anxiously, the way a boy's feet do when he has to pee.  He raises his tail high.

"Lick my balls, human."

The other stallions erupt in a thunderous cacophony.

I kneel with thundering heart. I stare at the center of his power. Big stallion nuts dangle like fruit, ready to be tasted. I cough up spit and lick my lips.  Don't want to fuck this up.  Don't want to disappoint the first stallion I service.

Slowly I reach out. My hands tremble. I touch them. They feel like soft chamois. His flesh shivers. I flutter my fingers along them. You know the way you tease a man's balls to make him cum harder? I sniff my fingers. Pure horse.  Meadows, hay, sweat, and sex. Drool cascades from my lips. His musk. Damn.

"You like how my balls feel, boy?"

"Fuck yeah." They quiver under my fingers. They pulse.  They are the source of life and lust and I'm touching them.

"Lick 'em, human. Show me that you care."

I'm a drooling slave to horse balls.  Spit gushes down my chin.  A rope of precum sways from my cock. My tongue touches his balls. 

Hear me, world? I'm tonguing a stallion's nuts! He likes it. I like it. We need it.

Every horse in the stable stares at us. At Horseboy servicing the unnatural lust of the white stallion. Their human caretaker abasing himself before a horse's glorious power.

As I start to lick my heart gallops. At last I'm free.

His balls are warm and supple beneath my lips. The skin is tougher than a man's nuts.  It has to be, to contain the fiery novae within. His tail swishes against my back.

"Lick," he croons. "Lick me the way you've always wanted to."

I begin on the backside, my nose in his taint.  As I slurp on his salty balls I caress the inside of his thighs. The white stallion parts his legs.

"Do me right, Horseboy, and I promise you my colt."

Watch and listen, guys. Here's your first lesson on slaking a stallion's lust.  First you lave his right nut. You soak it till spit hangs from it.  You lick. You pucker. You caress. Then you tongue the groove between the testicles, from the apex of the taint right down as low as you can get. You nibble his seam. Gently, of course. You don't harm nuts like these. One kick and he'll kill you. The nibbling drives him crazy.  Then you move on to his left nut. You know you're doing right when his haunches twist and his tail swishes.

I crawl under the stallion. I lick the bottom of his giant sack. It covers my face.  I look straight up at his swollen sheath. The lair of the horsecock. Where the rod of might that'll join human to horse quivers.

I laugh. Fuck, this is joy!

"Happy Horseboy," mutters the stallion.

I creep further between his legs.  His body is a sky full of muscle and semen. I angle my face to work the front of his balls.  My forehead presses against his throbbing sheath. I smell my spit and his musk.  His hooves shift uneasily. Stamp impatiently.

Suddenly the white stallion snorts. "Decent job, human, though I've had better. Let me reward you. Lie down." He chuckles. "Face up, you slut. I know you need me in your ass but do as I command."

I stretch out on the floor. The stallion steps backward. It's my job to keep my arms and legs from getting pulped under his hooves. He stops when my head lies between his fore hooves.

"You see my sheath? Yeah. You always check between a horse's legs, don't you?"

I can't look anywhere else.  There's a great one-eyed beast staring at me from those velvety folds. My butthole puckers.

"You're a dirty, filthy, sick, horsecock loving human. And you're mine! "

"I'm yours," I breathe. I mean it. It's a marriage pledge.

"Watch me get hard, Horseboy. Watch my big horsecock."

It seems shy the way his cock emerges.  First only a half inch, then back inside. I know he's teasing me.  It's all about teasing.  All these dreams, over all these years, have been about teasing, until the excitement and the energy peaked within me, so that this dream could come to pass. 

The stallion's cock emerges again. Thick. Alien. From this angle -- head on, the best way to view it -- the urethra is gem cupped in folds of flesh. The organ is pale pink in color and it glistens with oil. Once on its way it emerges smoothly and continuously.

Inch after inch. Foot after foot. It descends in an arc. He isn't hard. It's what you'd call a soft on.  Blood fills it but it hasn't yet stiffened for ... insertion.

I whimper as the shadow of horsecock slides over my sweaty torso.

"Touch me," the white stallion croons. "Touch my cock, Horseboy. You've held every other cock in this stable. Now touch mine.  The one that's gonna breed you."

Yeah, I've touched horsecock before but I've never touched ... the first one I'm going to take up my ass. I feel like a little boy who's found someone's used jockstrap. His fucking dong is a behemoth, even for a horse. Sultan? Shaka Rex? They're pickles nest to this zucchini. Even with both hands clasped behind the head my fingers do not meet. And Jesus H. Christ, what a feeling. Horsecock in my hands. Giant fuckshaft. He's going to ... breed me with this thing. It's going to put his colt in me. Energy surges within it.

I am its slave. Forever.

"Point it at your face." His laughter blends with the neighing and stomping of horses.

I know what's coming. I know I want it.

The white stallion's urethra is thicker than my forefinger.  When it gapes open I get a fleeting glimpse of a golden disc. I grin. I arc up off the floor just the way I do when penetrated by a big cock. The golden disc grows larger. Turns to glittering wasps. Piss splatters. I moan.

His piss anoints me head to toe.  Its fumes are heady and make my mind spin.    Like a hose I direct his piss up and down my body because I sense, as if communicated through his piss, that's what he wants. I almost cum when it pours over my cock.  I direct the steam into my armpits.  I wash myself free of my own odor, substituting his for mine.

"That's right, Horseboy.  That's right." He croons. "Make yourself my mare. I want to smell myself when I fuck you."

He doesn't grace me with his full bladder. Once I'm branded with his scent he pinches off the flood.  I can't help but revere one who knows what is precious and knows he should hoard it.

"You've been good, Horseboy," mutters the stallion. "I left a gift for you."

A golden drop beckons from his cock.  Grinning, I sit up and snatch up with my tongue. I shudder as it slides down my throat. It's slimy and stringy and its smell lingers in my nostrils for a long, long time.

I hear him take in a huge lungful of breath when I start licking his cockhead.  He rumbles as he exhales. I feel the blood coursing into the divine instrument.  It thickens until the narrowest part, just behind his head, is thick as my bicep. It stiffens, rising towards his belly.  My tongue finds clots of cockcheese and I scarf them hungrily. I stroke his shaft. The flesh is sick, as if coated with motor oil. There's no way this thing could fit down my throat. But I still picture it. Unhinged jaw.  My throat, swollen from within.  My eyes, hazy with delight.  My nostrils, flared, slurping up the equine scent pouring from his sheath.

I picture him, the white stallion, eyes rolled back, ears flat against his skull, tail thrashing, stomping his hooves, as I lay there and service his gargantuan cock.

"I know you want to," says the stallion. "But just put it out of your mind. Humans can't suck horsecock worth a damn. If you're good, I'll visit you again in another dream, and I'll take you someplace where you can watch ... something, heh-heh, suck me."

His cock quivers, ramrod stiff, throbbing against his belly.  I lick down the side just to please him. To remind him I'm there, between his legs, ready to slake his lust for human butt.

"Enough," he says. "Breeding time!"

Hot damn! I scramble from beneath him.  Once again I feel like a kid who has gotten the gift he needs. The stallions sense it too.  No capering. They're all watching from their doors, ears flat against their skull.  They drag their hooves on the floor, pawing, wishing they were in the white stallion's place.

"How do you want me? Where do you want me?" I hop from foot to foot.

His eyes? Not warm. They glitter, cold, appraising me. "You should already know. We've rehearsed this before. Bend over the hay bale."

I obey.  I rest my palms on the bale and thrust my ass high.  Sweat trickles from my balls. "Like this?"

"Like that." Hooves clomp as he eases towards me. "Sweet money ass. Only good thing about your species."

At first I think I felt his cock, flickering at my butthole. And that thought alone nearly makes me cum.  I melt and I think, Fuck yeah! But it isn't cock; it is his tongue.  His big tongue, the size of my palm, probing and invading my pucker.  I let free a great shuddering sigh. It's a nasty invasion, full of moisture and air, as he snuffles and licks me. I groan when the tongue enters me. I whimper as it sinks deep.

His tongue feels wide as Forest's cock.  It doesn't advance deep. I arch my back and I spread my legs and I thrust my butt against his nostrils. Yeah, boy, I need what you got. Is this what a mare thinks? He finds my prostate and he thrusts at it. No human can match that trick. I whimper like a bitch in heat and grind my ass against his face.

"Eat me," I beg. "Eat my ass!"

Then his tongue is gone.  A shadow falls. Suddenly his fore hooves crash onto the hay bale in front of me. His cock stabs against my buttocks as he hunches.

"I wish," he mutters, "I really wish I could find a human strong enough to take my weight while I fuck him." Something hot as sin drizzles onto my spine.  Horse precum. "I like my mare to do the heavy lifting while I handle the drilling. If you're gonna do bestiality, I guess you gotta make some compromises."

He thrusts. He misses.  I think he does it on purpose. His huge shaft stabs along my stomach and chest. I stare at it in shock. The damn thing reaches from my thighs to my neck.

"Whoops, sorry," he says. "Missed." He chuckles.

He draws back, hooves shifting, and thrusts again.  Again he misses.  This time his giant meat throbs against my back. His motherfucking cock must weight eighty goddamned pounds just by itself.

Needing what he's got, I reach back, seeking his cock.

"No, stop," he commands. "This is where the stallion takes over."

Again he hunches. It jabs against my asshole.  He whickers. I hear one of the other stallions snort and paw. I've said it before but here on the cusp of penetration I'll say it again. His cock is huge. 

"You want this, don't you, Horseboy?"

"I need it!" And I do. I don't know what'll happen when the huge instrument pierces me. I just know I need his alien presence inside me.

He presses deep into my socket. If I were Antoinette I'd have that giant thing in me now. Bet she's in her stall now, streaming juice, just smelling this stud. I've got him, and my tight ring doesn't surrender pleasure that easily.

"Yes, Horseboy, that's my cock.  That's my cock, pressing against your ass. I'm a horse and I'm going to breed you." He grunts. "Ready or not, here I come!"

"Wait!" I cry. "Lube!"

"It's a dream," he says. "Don't worry."

He stabs in.

Everything changes.

  Horseboy is finally a horse's boy. 

My ring irises open. He pauses and I get a moment to rejoice. I got a foot of stallion cock in my guts. Maybe because it's a dream it doesn't hurt. Maybe it doesn't hurt because I want not just a foot, but a yard, of throbbing equine fuckshaft. Or maybe the pain I've experienced as a human slips his fist into me is pleasure when a horse does the same thing with his hardon.  For him, my anus is a gate and my colon a land of forbidden pleasure.  For me, his cock is my god.

"Holy shit," I mutter, panting, clawing at the hay. "Goddamn, that's nice." Rings of crimson light float up my spinal cord from my ass to my brain. I shift, moving a bit on the stallion's meat.

"Yeah," snorts the stallion. "It's hot when a horse fucks his boy!" His cock lurches upward, a motion so strong he pulls my upturned buttocks against his stomach.

The beast isn't at all gentle.  He's consumed by the red fog of his lust. I'm his vessel.  The stallion grants me those brief seconds for my organs to readjust to the titanic reality of his invasion. Then it's time to increase his pleasure. He is relentless.  The shaft sinks deeper into my straining butt. I feel the great cockhead inside me, pushing everything aside, and creating room for the behemoth. I groan. I hear the white stallion chortle with delight.

"It's always like it," he mutters to himself. "They can't believe it when I finally give 'em what they need!"

I moan. I urge myself backward, to take more of the horse inside my straining body. I beg for more and he gives me more. The stallion's shaft thickens towards the sheath. The act of joining beast to man seems to take forever.

"Jesus," I breathe.

"No," grunts the stallion. "Jesus was a bottom. Nice ass, though."

"How much are you going to give me?"

"Every fucking foot of it. The way I always give it."

And, in the end, he doesn't stop his insertion until I feel the soft folds of his sheath nuzzling between my buttcheeks. There were moments when I pounded my fists on the hay, reading to beg him to stop. But I never gave him. Horsecock is a drug.

He twitches his meat, whipping me.

"Yeah. Who's my mare?"

"I'm your mare!"

"Damn right."

I feel bristly fur against my back and butt. I feel his heartbeat, resounding through my body as if it were a great bell pealing over some tiny village. My heart surrenders, synchronizing its beating with his, my master, the animal who takes me.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," I say.  No pain it all.  It's all pleasure.  I'm a membrane of pleasure, wrapped around a giant cock.

"Well," he says, "remember this is a dream. When you do it for real, you'll be begging for Sultan to take it out."


"Let's fuck," he grunts. "Gotta make that colt!"

He withdraws. I moan as each inch slithers free.  I almost cry. The emptiness he leaves behind is shattering. It is as if I'm being drained of life and vitality. The stallion eases back until his cockhead holds my anus open wider than two fists.

"Feel that?" he grunts. "Feel my cock?"

"Fuck me!"

"Who's the master here?"

"Horsecock!" I bellow.

I hear a wet thumping sound and I realize that all the stallions -- those stud beasts I've led time and time again to fill mare cunts with their divine seed -- are beating off, watching me take it up the ass from this white stallion.

"Don't you forget it. Let's fuck, Horseboy!" He whinnies. "It's what being a horse is all about!"

He's violent and furious.  His strokes hammer like detonations of dynamite. He's brutal. He's intent on his need to fill me with seed. There's no concession to human frailty. There's no pretense of love or tenderness. And goddamn it, I don't want him treat me like a little human. If a mare can take him, so can I.

I need to show him that my tight ass can take it. That not having his cum up me drives me nuts. 

He screams pure horse, and fucks, mane and tail flying.  I stagger and struggle to steady myself on the bale. Muscles bleed through his body.  Hooves stomp furiously. I won't escape. Why should I escape? I'm joined with him. Horsecock has unified us.

He can't see me but I know he feels when slut mode overcomes me.  When the plunging power of his cock makes me arch my back, when my gaping hole makes me thrust back against him, when slurping sounds cause me to whore for him.  I've seen the mares do it when stallions take them in the pens.  The mode just swims up from somewhere deep inside them and they join in harmony with some unseen sexual melody. Stallions expect it as their due. The mode pure instinct. Any beast that blesses you with such pleasure is entitled to abasement.

Each stroke he pumps into me tells me that, yeah, this horse likes what I got.  That, just like me, he looks at the form of another species and thinks, yeah, I want me some of that. Each stroke is a step on a journey that will joins us forever, when the union of stallion seed binds human to horse.

For the other stallions, watching a beast fuck a man from their stalls, I buck and I twist and I toss my head and I work,  'cause I want them to know how much I like horsecock in my ass. I want to lay with the beasts of the field. I want to dribble their seed from my ass.

I probably started cumming when he filled me with horsecock. I don't recognize it for a long while. Then I look down, to discover my cock firing volley after volley of cum into the hay and slathering my belly. I'm sure the white stallion sensed my orgasm as my ring shrank against his plunging shaft, and took it and united it with his own, greater, and more godlike rapture. What does a stallion care if his mare cums?  It's all about the breeding.

"Gonna give you my colt," he grunts.

He's a stallion.  A breeder with a giant cock. It's the mare's task -- me, muscular Horseboy, first time mare -- to bring him pleasure, so that the seed can spurt forth and bring new things into being.

My heart sears when his strokes increase, when his cock stiffens, signifying he's about to juice my guts.

"Shit," he growls. "It's breeding time!"

Whinnies crescendo.  Muscles tense. The stallion throws his head back. His tail whips furiously. I swear he almost blows the roof off the stables when he juices me.

I feel cataracts of horse cum flooding my guts. I'm a valley and a bursting damn obliterates me.  The seed cascades inside me.  Bubbling gooey chaos, thrilling with potential.  It seeks out every nook and crevice. Stallion juice replaces the emptiness within me. He fills colon and small intestine, and still he fires.  Goddamn, what balls.  What stud balls on this beast. Cum gurgles into my stomach.  Up my esophagus.  It pours into my lungs. I'm drowning in cum.  The flood bursts from my lips. Strands of cum vomit between my lips. I shudder, looking down at the long tentacles of jism crawling across the hay.

"Take it!  Take it!"

For a few seconds we remain joined.  His cock slacks. I wipe my lips.

"Now," he says, easing his cock down, "you're one of us. You've got my colt infusing you. You're one of the elect. The elite. You've been bred by the best there is."

I cough like crazy to clear my throat. "When do I give birth?"

He laughs. "Not long." He pulls out of me.

I fall on the hay bale, clenching my asshole, trying to stop the tide from escaping. I lay in mingled spunk, his and mine.

The stallion -- my breedmaster -- bounces up. Fore hooves crash on the floor beside the bale of hay.  I feel his breath against my butt. "Yeah. That's a fucked pussy." You can hear the triumph in his voice. He who cums is king.

He trots a little way up the aisle. Wearily, I watch him, wishing already he'd come and do it again.

The stallion turns. "You're a good fuck, Horseboy. And that's a compliment coming from a stallion. Remember, we seed thousands of cunts a year.  You're one of the best I've ever had." He snorts. "But don't get cocky. I've had better, and will have it again."

Again the stallion turns as if to leave. Suddenly he sees Sultan's head thrust above his stall door. The stallion skids to a halt.

"I smell stud," he growls. He steps sideways over to Sultan.  The two stallions sniff each other. Challenge glows in their eyes.

Suddenly the white stallion lunges.  His lips press against Sultan's.  Groaning and whickering echoed through the stable.  Tongues slurp and equine spit drips.  When the kiss breaks a long strand of saliva connects each horse. The white stallion whickers low. 

"He's all yours, stud," I hear the white stallion say.  Piss gushes from his cock.

Sultan glances my way, then trumpets loudly, bucking his head wildly. He whirls away in joy.

"I'll be back for you later," says the white stallion. The flood of piss washes away straw. "But you're going to have to deal with these guys yourself, Horseboy."

He trots down the aisle, trailing urine, and is gone.

Sultan's eyes glare into mine. His nostrils flare wide. I can smell the musk of his balls from here. I rise and --

Lightning! Thunder! The house shakes.

Son of a bitch.  I thrash, tangled in the sheets, and shoot upright. I'm drenched with sweat.

Forest reclines on his side, brandishing his hardon.  "Let me have that butt, Horseboy. Storms make me horny."

But this isn't a good time. The cramp almost bends me double.  It's like being kicked in the guts from the inside. I shake my head at him.  "No, not now.  Sorry.  You don't want to be putting anything up there right now."

Forest grumbles with disgust.

I stumble out of bed. Another cramp and I almost fall to the floor.

"You all right?" asks Forest. "Was it something you ate?"

"Must've been."  I shut the bathroom door behind me.  I squat on the toilet.  And I let loose.

The stuff blasts out of me for five minutes.  It's a gut-emptying dump, man.  I can feel the pressure sink down in me like a thermometer on a colt day.  Hell, the head of this stuff must've been up next to my liver. I won't lie.  It was liquid too, gooey and nasty.

I'm not finished expelling the contents of my bowels when the toilet begins overflowing.  Wet stuff plops to the floor. Son of a bitch. I shake my head. I glance down. 

What the hell?

Long white ropes of slime creep over the rim of the toilet bowl, detaching, falling onto the floor.

I clamp my asshole shut.  I stand.  I look into the toilet.

The entire bowl brims with sperm. 

Dreamtime is over.


- stand by for -
- "The Stallion Rides - 5 Slut for Sultan" -