Story Codes: MM/best/anal
© 1995,2000 R. Keith Peck; All Rights Reserved
In carnal dream he lay asleep, wrapped in a warm cocoon of blankets, a lithe Elf-boy, young and not quite innocent.
Frustrated eyes flicked open, brightness born under a shock of black hair. His nose breathed in huge gulps of air, and his soft lips parted; shadows shifted over his face. He looked like a diver, just surfaced, enjoying the very air.
The scent like a rich musk permeated the farm. A powerful smell, it obscured even the rutty smell of Konya, his brother, the odor of antler-crowned stud buck that he knew so well. But the smell that the Elf breathed was the scent of something powerful beyond even words. It was the distilled essence of mighty male muscles, of the harsh sweat of a god, of power and dominion.
His hand came up, covered his eyes, obscured the little lines that a sudden frown drew across his forehead. His nose twitched in the night. Nothing could overcome the secret odor, the one that called to him so. Smell of thighs sweating. Smell of work in the hot sun. Smell of lust. Smell of a stallion, running through a sunny meadow, kicking up weeds into a fog of gold. A stallion, running and running, his heart pounding in the wildness of the moment, black mane streaming like a banner. That was the source of this perfumed drug that filled the air - a mighty horse.
The Elf moved his hand from his eyes, curled a bit of black hair round a finger, thinking and thinking - of the stallion. The white stallion had come like a ghost this very afternoon to his father's farm, in the southern reaches of Konyamiand's Kingdom; the white stallion that he had seen while he had been working in the fields. Its image hovered in his mind. Idealized, it had no real shape - it was more a dream that he experienced when he recalled the vision of the white stallion. That afternoon, as the stallion had passed the Elf as he had worked in the fields, the stallion had looked at him like no animal had ever done before. The stallion was an aryanlapt - god-blessed, intelligent as an Elf, capable of speech with an Elves and with Horses. It had seen him, not as a dumb beast would, but as ...
He was too afraid to think the thought.
He could not rest. He pulled the sheets down from his chest. Beauty revealed: his chest, naked and defined, carved by years of work in the hot sun. His groin, framing his phallus, swollen (maybe), fat as a worm, dangling over his young testicles. He got out of bed, bent over, grabbed a leather loincloth and wrapped it tight round his waist. The glories the Elf-boy hid like a sword sheathed, like a secret delightful sin.
He left the farmhouse, walking up the vapor trail. The night was quiet and still. All the farmhands were asleep. Behind him the house - full of lusty father and lustier brother - faded, as if dark veil had been drawn over it.
Ahead loomed the stable.
It was the center of the mighty musk. The stable was a sun, spreading cuddling rays to dependent planets. He was drawn to it.
The horse, the horse.
The Elf could smell him, the great white horse, tall as a lord, a shaggy mane like a ripping from the night sky. All that beautiful smell washed around him. The Elf was the supreme battlefield. Chemicals rushed around and through him, tangled with thoughts. He paused on the threshold of the stable. The odor wafted round him, nestling in his armpits, between his pectorals, in his boy-fragrant groin. He stood, and thought, and trembled, a teenager drowning in a rage of hormones.
With his foot he made a subtle motion - forward, onto the straw- strewn floor of the stable. The dust of the courtyard brushed off his feet. Thought had won in him. The Elf-boy, just barely a man, slinked forward, a supplicant seeking immense richness, seeking a divine gift, seeking communion with the gods. The odor was the pathway to the heavens.
His link with the horse, his dark hair, black on unblemished white skin, trailed lankly between his shoulder blades. His skin, smooth as polished alabaster, was like a shimmer of moonlight on a still pool. His hair, black, shaggy, darker than shadow. The link was all-important for what he now sought, the only reason he could think of to justify his petition.
Naked chest gleamed like silver in the dimness, and two nipples like eyes stared out from cupped, firm pectorals. Across his washboard stomach shadows rippled, a brook laughing over stone. Curls of black hair kissed his delicate, sweet navel, and descended in enticing line below the level of his kilt. Buttocks as ripe as swelling melons lay shrouded beneath the thick leather; a dark furrow split the twin halves, from there (though the Elf was unable to smell it) came another wonderful smell, the perfect complement to the fragrance of the stallion. The Elf-boy's promised yielding, opening; the stallion's proclaimed mighty, raging energy.
Lusting air kissed his naked muscled thighs.
Other horses were stabled there: he knew their names. Huryada, Tyiript, Aulyor, horses only not aryanlapt. And ears picked up and heads bobbed in surprise at his intrusion. But the Elf had no nose for them. He breathed the air, electricity tickled his lungs. A sorcerer must be nearby, stirring almond vapors into the magic air. The odor did not belong to these horses. It was the stallion that the Elf-boy sought. It was his first quest into the heart of quivering magics, and it was the vision that the odor brought, the wonderful thoughts of streaking through highland meadows, racing sunlight, hooves slicing through tall dried grass ... and thighs pumping and pumping and pumping. The sweet smell: sweat and musk.
Then he stopped, a shadowed form in the dark, an Elf-boy caressed by lusting moonlight.
The stallion more than justified the promise of the musk.
Tall and proud it stood, luminous in its stall, a circle of pearlescent light around it. A god's hands had shaped the equine marble of its muscles into a vision of beauty. Wash of odor like sweat bursting out swept through the stable.
Proudly, it tossed its head as it saw the Elf-boy. And it fixed dark eyes on him, and the boy, so tender, so young, so perched on the edge of the forbidden, was caught, lifted, spun around, and plunged into the sweet welcome there. Gazes locked. The horse was the center of an engulfing storm. Its odor was sacred. The boy sucked in the odor and held it within in, carried along, drunk with the moment, too afraid to speak.
The stallion saw the Elven beauty outside his stall. And it was delighted, it would have smiled had the gods given it that ability. There was a wonderful, fiery tension in him; a jagged bolt of lightning flashed from his heart to his groin. The boy had come.
The horse had come this very day, to this farm, led by a guide from the city of Kyulon-Lirren. They had plodded (because the guide was so slow) down a long, dusty, sun-drenched road, through the hills surrounding this little farm. It was in the outer fields that the horse had seen this Elf, and it was in the outer fields that the horse had begun to lust after him. There the boy had been, so sweet, so tender, so yielding, but so male - bent over in the fields, working, filmed by hard-earned sweat. The boy had looked back at him, into the stallion's eyes. The stallion had seen through the layers of guilt and repression to the boy's darkest, deepest, most hidden thoughts.
The guide had plodded on, coming to the farmhouse itself. Deals were worked out, between farmer and the guide, and the stallion was led into the stalls for bathing and cleaning. The horse had noted all the others there - horses, donkeys, even goats - and its genitals had swollen with the thought of all the equine strength he could take here. Not a full erection, just a subtle statement of desire. But all his thought had been on the dark-haired beauty from the fields, and his nut-brown, tight body.
Now he was here, in the stalls, in the dark of the night, enraptured by the sight of the stallion.
An equine tongue licked equine lips and a stallion's brain thought ultramasculine thoughts. A stallion - the creature that sought to reduce all the universe to a hole that could be filled by its ever-ready never- drained phallus. And this stallion, made by Aradd God of Love and sent into the world to rule masculinity, had long ago conceived of a different task. This stallion had never had an Elf sexually, its talents as a sexual machine had never been appreciated in Kyulon-Lirren. All its desires, all its frustrations, it had vented into others of its kind.
But here was a boy, born on a farm, surrounded by the natural forces of the earth, entrapped by the lusty, easy power of animals. A country boy, a fusion of dirt, sweat, and song.
The stallion wanted to sink his phallus into poetry itself: this Elf-boy.
In silence the stallion watched as the boy at last moved and climbed over into his stall. He saw muscles bleed through the skin, how the damnably tantalizing loincloth hiked up, how the lightly-furred teenaged testicles hung like sweet fruit between his thighs. The horse sniffed, smelt the clean scent of the boy, his symphony of odors. The horse licked his lips with a shiny tongue. An electric tingle began in the horse's mighty testicles; a thigh muscle twitched.
Softly the horse moved to position himself. It was the equine pattern - do not reveal what the postulant seeks until the proper time. He faced the object of his desire at a slight angle, presenting his right side, a posturing designed to reveal his strength but cloak the glories. The boy, with his loincloth wrapped tight round his sweetness, was doing the same - good, the horse approved.
The Elf-boy, caught up in the spell, felt his heart hammer and throb. He was forbiddingly excited. The musk like a syrup lay thick in the air. His delicate nose sniffed it, caressed it with moist innards. The scent was a tangle of ropes, all leading towards the horse's secret places, the places it girded with shadow.
The horse spoke, in a deep voice, lower than thunder. "Who are you? And why have you come here?"
The boy's tongue stuck fast. His name had been about to spill out, for he must obey this lordly horse's commands. But the second question, the bald demand, stopped his answer in his throat. The boy dreaded what he had come for. He had his own question, but how to ask it? What was the ritual?
"Who are you?" the stallion asked again.
"I am - " the boy began, in a gentle boy's voice, his words silky, loving. "I am Salanu." An electric shimmer quivered his hair-kissed testicles.
"Salanu," said the horse, slowly. "Salanu - it is a name worthy of you. Now. Why have you come into my stall?"
The horse's stall, not Salanu's father's stall. No, no, the horse was the master here. The master, on four strong legs, with ...
The horse took a simple step forward, its radiance filling Salanu's upturned face. "Why have you come to me?"
"Because you're so fucking beautiful," Salanu breathed, so teenager, so hormone-centered.
"So people tell me. My name is Rihumme."
The horse craned his neck forward slightly, entering the space that belonged to the boy, breathing in the scent of Salanu (scared, exhilarated, elated). Rihumme the white stallion locked the boy deep into black eyes, enjoying the Elf-boy's beautiful face - the pattern and curve of shadow upon parted panting lips. Enchanted the horse drew closer. His nostrils hovered onto a few inches from Salanu's pectorals. No smell of sweat now, just boy unadulterated, so sweet, heavenly. The stallion began to trail downwards through the aura of smell, sniffing nose dropping lower and lower. The smell of teenaged male Elf: tendril of testosterone like an aphrodisiac, whiff of semen like a hallucinogen. Rihumme was not looking at the boy now, his eyes closed. In a world of darkness he tasted the boy. The horse's questing nose dropped lower and lower, beneath the lower edge of the tight loincloth. The scent changed. Ambrosia. Rapture. The true odor of the boy.
Salanu trembled as the horse inhaled him. He swirled into illegal dream. The hot breath of the horse was on his chest, then lower and lower. Blood gushed into his hot young cock.
The horse opened his eyes. His nose was nearly between the muscled thighs. He was staring at the shape of a tube, hidden beneath the thin leather, and he was breathing Salanu's ball sweat and anal sweat. He could feel the boy's incredible tension. Rihumme's nose tickled with the secret electricity Salanu emitted between his legs.
The horse lifted his head. Something beautiful began to happen beneath the loincloth. Salanu elongated, awakened, stiffened into youthful power and glory.
"Boy," said the horse, "why are you here?"
"You're my fucking beautiful master." He gasped the words. "I don't know what's happening ... " He trailed off, near tears from confusion.
"Come see what's happening to me," the horse commanded. He turned, stripped the shadows away from between his back legs, proudly revealing himself to Salanu.
Horse balls hanging, swollen, huge, covered with skin like leather, hair-studded, sweaty. Candy. Center of the smell, the horse- musk that ruled the night. Twin wizards of masculinity, guarded on either flank by thick-muscled thighs. They commanded Salanu's obedience. A flood of saliva filled the Elf-boy's mouth: candy.
The great cock lay sheathed in a leather scabbard, hanging beneath the horse, a great weapon hidden yet fruitful with potential. Sweat dripped from it. Salanu wanted to taste that sweat. His knees weakened at the sight of the royal penis. He wanted to kneel.
But something began to happen.
A pink dot appeared at the end of the sheath, like an eye opening. A sliding nose, rustling, silk sliding on leather, as the dot lengthened, took on form, entered a second dimension. The horse was getting hard. Rihumme's eyes slitted over with the pleasure of getting an erection. A snort escaped him as he felt the pure power of his penis becoming hard. Like a snake wriggling from its hole the pink cock emerged, glistening, night air welcomes it. Long, hard, thick, inch after inch, equine powerful, mighty, on and on, as if it will never in. Twenty-five inches of masculinity, the pride of the stallion.
The horse was erect. So was its boy.
Rihumme, white stallion, enjoyed the glorious energy that now blazed between his legs. His balls were heavy and silvery and steamy. He must join, fate has decreed; the stallion must mount. And enjoying his erection he enjoys the sight of the Elf-boy, his agape mouth, his suddenly increased smell, the magic they made between themselves.
"Oh ... oh ... oh," Salanu said, little chants, a little chant coming out of the eroticism of the moment. His eyes were slits, as if he was seeing into a different realm.
Rihumme's head again bent forward, his shiny horse-tongue emerged, touched Salanu's left nipple which sprang instantly erect. Salanu cried out in pleasure, but the tongue swirled around still. The horse was at last touching the Elf-boy. The tongue danced, Rihumme tasted his boy, his cock throbbed, a dripping sword sheathed in the air. The boy's chest glistened as if dusted with diamond.
Teenaged male Elf. O the power of testosterone. Salanu's eyes closed, and he sighed in rapture. A long fat tube lived in confined quarters beneath his black leather loincloth, an unsubtle sign of his arousal.
Ball-musk, anal sweat of sweet boy, smell of erect stud stallion, all mingled in the night air.
Salanu was in a trance. He was aware that the horse had ceased to tongue his chest, he could feel the presence of Rihumme's erection: the very air crackled. He saw a glowing vision: this splendid white horse, its black mane its banner, racing across a golden meadow, its strong legs pumping, its mighty muscles contracting, Salanu on his back, a part of the glorious image, naked, his own hair streaming, his thighs clamped tight to the writhing mass that was Rihumme's back. O what perfection to be part of nature, to join with it, to be its servant.
Sweat streaked his dreaming face; he was on fire for the stallion, its erect masculinity, for the seed boiling like molten silver in its swollen balls.
"Boy," Rihumme said.
A flood of precum burst from Salanu's penis. The horse was too erotic. He could not control himself. He had nothing but dreams before, he had never been with anyone sexually. It was as if he had waited all his fourteen years just for this one moment. He said, "Yes, oh yes?" drifting up out of his trance.
"What is your name?" The stallion asked this again; he was following equine ritual.
"I ... I am Salanu." He looked at the horse, its immense erect tool gleaming like a fat spear between its thighs. Salanu couldn't believe how huge the horse was. "Oh gods, what's happening?"
"You know what is happening," said the aryanlapt, voice crooning, seductive. "Do you want it to stop?" An easy question to ask, because there was no danger of refusal. The boy's hunger sharpened his scent, made his desire plain, made the night all the sweeter.
"No, no ... but -"
"You, boy, are in rut. You want this." The horse twitched his twenty-five inch erection proudly. Rihumme felt its heavy blood-gorged weight between his aching thighs. "You want me. I called to you, when I smelled you this afternoon."
"What did you smell?"
An Elvish question, no mare nor a passive stallion would ever ask such a question. It was not part of the equine ritual - but here they were making a bridge, between Elf-boy and horse. A new service would have to evolve here.
"I smelled a boy who trembled on the edge. Who was ready to become a man. Who dreamt of - what his kind forbids. Who sought someone to bring that dream to life - and knew who that one was when he saw me. I have been waiting for you, as you have been waiting for me. You are mine. You are for me. I am for you."
"Are we to mate?"
And with great pleasure the stallion noted that the Elf-boy had said mate, had not used an Elvish term - not fuck, not screw. He'd chosen the equine term, the term that another stallion who Rihumme had selected to rut in would use.
Rihumme caught the boy with his great dark eyes, those pools of night, and he saw a film of sweat glistening on the boy's upper lip like fuzz of a peach. A strand of black hair - the boy's own dark mane, their link - fell in delicate curves toward eyes now staring wide open at the glorious spectacle of the aroused stallion. Rihumme looked at the boy, gloried in the feeling his erect cock gave him. He wanted this. For so long he'd sought to mate with masculinity, to drive his penis into it, to mount it and make it his own He had first given his penis to mares, because that was all he knew. Then he had discovered that stallions lusted after him, and he had learned to give them what they sought: his cock buried in their bucking asses, pumping and stroking them. But it was not satisfying, not completely. Masculinity was a teenaged Elf, beautiful as an orgasm. His quest was over, he had found the Grail.
"Are we to mate?" Salanu repeated.
"Yes," said the horse.
Precum trickled down Salanu's sweating thigh.
"You are my mate," said Rihumme.
Salanu was swimming in a forbidden dream, drinking in the overpowering waters, surrendering to the death. "How?" he asked blindly. "How? How are we to mate?" He had seen animals do it - but he never had done it. What was there to do, how was he to pleasure this horse?
"Take your sarong off," Rihumme ordered. "I want to see what's mine." The boy was in his power; the animal commanded. The boy was prisoned in the powerful smell roaring out from the erect stallion's swollen balls. A shiny droplet of precum appeared on the pink tip of Rihumme's arm-thick cock.
Salanu stripped. His long Elvish prick at last revealed: nine inches of glory, hard as a stone. It smacked up against his flat belly, vibrant with new life. Its head was the color of a plum, the balls beneath swollen with silver seed. Gentle dark hairs, soft like the breath of a lover, nested round the root of his prick. Naked the Elf-boy was glorious. An Elf, teenaged male, naked and erect for the erect stallion. Cool air kissed his thighs. A bead of moisture glistening like a fragment of a star dropped from his armpit onto the hay.
Salanu trembled, out of control, swirling out of reality into a fantasy he'd long desired. How he wanted this. What a spell twenty-five inches of hard animal cock could work. The horse was the power of his universe, forgotten were family and friends, there was only this magnificent beast who stood revealed in all his lust for Salanu. The horse was the luminous center of everything, and Salanu moaned, irradiated with the prurient light streaming from the horse. He left the realm of solitary fantasies, leapt from dreams of the unknown male world into reality. He was blazing a trail into a new world.
Distantly, through his fogging excitement, he felt the horse's rough tongue begin to lick him again.
"How?" he breathed. The horse was so close to him, so large, so lordly.
"Do you want it?" Rihumme asked. The ritual. He pulled away from the tightly muscled chest. He looked at the beauty in front of him. Never had he had an Elf; what a catch this one was. A droplet of precum fell from his cock.
"I want it."
"There is a ritual to go through. You must complete it, with all your heart, with all your mind, before we may mate. You must say it all, bring it all out of you, make it true."
"Yes . . ."
"Say you are in rut."
"I am in rut."
"Say you will be my mare."
"I will be your mare."
And the crowning gesture, the heart of the meaning of the ritual: one slow pump of Rihumme's hips, an arrogant thrusting of his gargantuan tool forward as if he was sinking its length into a luscious, phantom asshole. A slow demonstration of his power, of his dominance, of who was the Male here.
Rihumme said: "Say you must mate with me."
"I have to mate with you. I need to mate with you. Oh shit, I must to mate with you!" If he had any reluctance left in him, those slow pumps of the horse's hips would have erased it.
With a voice of steel Rihumme commanded: "Go get a stool."
The Elf-boy went to the stall door, presenting his sculpted back to the horse: the knobs of his spine, regularly spaced, the muscles of his back spreading round it like the hood of a cobra; the strong boy- muscled thighs, virile, powerful. And Rihumme saw for the first time the place that he would penetrate, the place that would open for a cock for the very first time - the very unfeminine ass. Polished marble hard as stone, tight, clasping as his guarding the portals to paradise. The dark furrow kissed with the softest of black down releasing the scent of yielding and opening.
The horse drooled another drop of precum.
Salanu grabbed the stool from outside, pulled it over the door. He sat it down in front of Rihumme like an offering. He saw the horse's cock again. He whimpered, fearing and loving what he knew was to come. He was a slave here, the horse was master. The horse and its boy; the horse and its mate.
"Good," said Rihumme soothingly. There was a tinge of fear in the Elf-boy's odor. He did not want him fleeing - not now. "You are quick. Do you want me still? Will you still accept me in you?"
Salanu said: "I am in rut! Shit fuck shit, I'm in rut!" He bounced back and forth from foot to foot, his cock too rigid to vibrate, for it stood up tight against his flat belly.
"Bend over the stool," Rihumme ordered.
Salanu turned, bent at the waist, laying his saliva- and sweat- streaked chest on the wooden grain of the stool. He spread his legs wide in invitation. His dark hair flowed forward like a night tide across the nape of his neck, into his impassioned eyes. All those visions, the farmboy lusts he'd had while growing into young manhood, those forbidden things he'd imagined on hot nights when he'd had no relief except his fist and his fantasy - they were so weak, so pale, next to the vital reality of the horse, his master, Rihumme his stallion, standing just behind his opened ass.
The stallion circled his bent-over boy once, examining him, strutting now, the conquest done, the victory his. The long cock protruded between his back legs glistened in the pale light, huge and powerful. Yes, this was his vision of the way it should be. An Elf, cheeks spread, waiting for Rihumme's monster penis, masculinity offered up to the master of masculinity.
He stopped behind the boy, bent his head forward again. His eyes closed; he guided himself in through the heavenly scent. His ears flattened against the sides of his skull.
Gently, he tongued Salanu's ass. O what a taste. The Elf-boy sighed in unimaginable rapture. The horse's tongue swept up the crack, licking up sweat and scent of the boy. It was too much - he snorted, a signal of his own pleasure.
"Has anyone ever taken you here?" His tongue slid up and down Salanu's crack, a loving eel of pleasure.
"No ... no, they've wanted to, but I wouldn't let them ..."
"I will take you here. I will be your first lover. I, Rihumme, the stallion, will mount you and love you. I will join to you, horse to boy, and you will be as a mare for me."
"O, I will."
"Are you my mare?"
"I am your mare forever! I am in rut! I want to mate now!"
So did Rihumme. It was time. It was time. The horse ritual over, the boy's surrender to his equine phallus was complete. He would take the boy. No more waiting.
The horse's tongue licked Salanu's ass again, to ease the entrance of the mighty organ. It probed between those hard muscled melons, licking up the crack to the base of Salanu's spine, slurping downwards over the blazing hot and acrid asshole to the boy's fertile balls. Salanu spread his legs even wider, making the invitation more obvious. The horse moved in closer, driving his nose between the boy's cheeks, inhaling the scent while precum drooled off his mighty phallus in a continuous stream.
Salanu in his ecstasy moaned. O how he wanted this. His innards itched with his desire. He needed the twenty-five inch cock, the horse's pink male tool. The boy needed to mate with the animal, the boy was in sexual heat, it was time.
The tongue was maddening as it caressed his secret places. It brought incredible pleasure to him, exciting electric pleasure. It touched the gates the stallion would breach, that hidden hole between his legs. Salanu wanted to be penetrated, opened; he had to yield himself to the animal. "Now, now, now, make it now!" The tongue withdrew. The horse backed up to inspect his handiwork. The ass was shiny with his spit. Precum trickled off Rihumme's glistening cock. The taste of the boy was in the horse's mouth: almonds.
It was time.
The horse mounted the boy.
Salanu felt himself enclosed in warm furry musculature. The ball musk assailed his nostrils. The horse was around him, above him.
Something hot as a glowing coal prodded between his cheeks. He felt it maneuvering around, seeking his asshole. He shifted his ass, to give it the access it demanded. He was a slave, to pleasure the animal.
Gently the horse entered.
The cock pressed inwards. Pressure built up against the ring of muscle guarding his virginity. Salanu exhaled slowly, clenched his eyes, relaxed. The sphincter opened - and opened - and opened. The mighty lance was entering. He pushed back, accepting the mighty length the horse was feeding him. Pop - something gave.
Salanu screamed. The horse was inside him.
The horse paused, his apple sized prickhead pushed just inside the clasping, mouthing anus, wedging it open. "Am I hurting you?"
Rihumme felt the tight ring of muscle clamping down on his length. He no longer cared if he hurt the boy. He was master, he would take his pleasure. He slid forward, moving in ever so slowly. The ring of muscle travelled slowly up Rihumme's cock, like a tight clasping hang. The horse-cock sank slowly into moist heaven.
Sublime, sublime, the sensation of being filled. The mighty instrument moved steadily into Salanu. His mouth hung open, agape at the pleasure he felt.
Rihumme eased into the Elf, slowly, carefully, withholding his full power. He stifled his urge to slam it to the boy, to shove his three feet of meat into the Elf-boy in one mighty blow. Inch by inch the monstrosity of his cock slid in. The damp interior of Salanu's asshole opened around it. It sank deeper and deeper up the back passageway, twisting and turning up the course of the intestines, massive animal cock thrusting aggressively deeper and deeper.
"Ohhhhh..." Salanu moaned in delight. The horse was deep in his guts. The glory of the entry had gone on for minutes. Then he felt the hot, hairy balls of Rihumme against his upturned butt.
The horse was in the boy. Salanu hung impaled on cock. He had taken it all. The horse had taken his virginity from him. All the world filled his asshole.
"I am in you, Salanu," Rihumme said. Then he began to draw his phallus back, very slowly, feeling the mucous-lined walls go sliding past his length. He was powerfully in control of the boy. He could hear the boy whimper his delight.
Rihumme pulled fifteen inches of cock out of the boy, till he could feel the boy's anal muscles clamp down, trying to shit the arm- thick mass out. Then he pushed back in, using those powerful muscles in gentle loving fashion, giving the boy what he sought: beastiality, and twenty-five inches. What a glorious feeling. Rihumme's cock again sank in deep, till his balls met Salanu's white butt. Slick hot flesh wrapped round his cock. The boy, spread-eagle, lay impaled on his cock.
"Oh, yes," they said.
Then out again, a little faster, the long tool slurping out of the ass, pink flesh glistening. Salanu felt his guts close back up as the horse withdrew from his body. Then the horse ground forward again, faster, coming closer to the style of fucking he longed to give the boy. He knew he must be gentle, till the boy's inside had adjusted to the mighty invader, but he wanted to writhe and buck and thrust and pant, to churn in the boy, hips humping, flanks sweaty. But not yet, not yet, not until the boy had truly become his mare.
Salanu felt open, split, the mighty cock filling him with a burning erotic pressure. He gave his musky, secret interior to the lordly stallion and its cock, the thick throbbing cock. The long thrust in till balls rested against his ass; long slide out, till he writhed in a need-filled void. The rhythm of the fucking slowly quickened. Sweat streamed down his face; he began to buck his parted ass up at the horse, loving the stallion back, showing his blazing need, revealing the fiery nature of his rut. He was open, so open, to the thrusting, questing cock.
Faster and faster Rihumme began to churn, his eyes clouded with lust. He felt Salanu reaching back to him, felt his heavy sperm-filled balls bouncing against the Elf-boy's alabaster ass. He gloried in the fuck. His prickhead buried deep into the boy felt so fucking far away from him. The arrogant cockshaft shouldered aside Salanu's sphincter, arrowing in, erotic squishing noises coming from where stallion and Elf joined. His balls ached, swollen with cum; how sweet and cool and silky Salanu's butt felt against them as he drove his dick deep into the boy. Rihumme took the boy and ruled him. He whinnied - purely equine, too far gone into the fuck. He puffed and snorted, drove with his powerful hips his fat twenty-five inch cock up the Elf's violated ass. Onwards and onwards he rose, toward bliss, churning faster, starting to loose his civilization, starting to throw into the Elf the fucking he desired. He surrendered to the sensations streaming from his cock.
Salanu clenched his fists, groaned as the horse began to slam shock wave after shock wave into him. He arched his back, felt the horse's belly rub against it. He could feel the huge prickhead of the horse churning somewhere deep in side up, riding up and down his dank guts.
"I am your mare, I am your mate," he muttered through clenched teeth, his lust turning the words into a growl.
Cock slammed into butt, his vision dimmed with the powerful thrusts. His own cock, so puny compared with the erect magnificence of the horse, was stone-hard, dripping a sweet liquid. The horse stuffed again and again the slippery arm-thick phallus into his rectum.
The pace picked up, the violence. Salanu reached back, enveloping more of the animal's cock with his tender body. "I am yours, I am yours."
There Rihumme lost control. He let loose, becoming a mighty stud stallion, hammering a volley of thrusts into the slut boy he ruled, fucking his begging hole. Quick violent movements, pure animal, long cock a blur as it emerged and sank it. Loud grunting noises but no words, all necessary communication coming through the hard shaft the horse had between its legs. Fuck fuck fuck. Drive the meat in faster. The hot release was coming so close. The fuck ruled: Rihumme envisioned an endless line of dark-haired boys, all waiting for him, naked; he imagined mounting them all, one after another, slotting them with his ever-erect cock. He could hear Salanu's cries of pleasure. He drilled the boy's canal harder, rutting in his ass.
"More more more, O gods more, horse you fucking stud, slide it in me slide it in hard ..."
The horse was now fucking Salanu as if he was another animal. The thrusting power was absolute. Silver jism boiled in their balls, ready to spill. Salanu pushed his spread ass back into the thrusts wantonly, skewering himself on the shaft of pleasure, questing for more, ever more. Rihumme's balls beat a tattoo on his ass. The cock slammed into him. All around him the sweaty, heady smell of a fucking animal, muscles, penis, precum, balls, so close to the world's vital energy. The cock sliced, butted into him.
Boy-riding horse slathered cock into spread ass, ramming powerfully forward, ruling with erect cock, trembling with illicit thrill, battering boy-butt with bloated balls.
Horse-fucked boy yearned backwards into the rigid axis of the thrusts. The cock was a bridge - horse and Elf united.
"Ahh ... shit shit fuck, horse, stud, lord ... I'm coming -"
Salanu cried out, fingers curling into a fist. A hot fire blazed in his balls, rose higher like lava up his tubes. A blinding light burst in his skill. He screamed, the pleasure too much. A long squirt of jism, silver teenager's cum, a jewel, streamed out. He fired off his load, pumping it and pumping it. Grey ropes of cum netted his thighs. He shot and shot, vomiting it out of him, his balls spasming in his orgasm. It went on, he could not stop shooting, the orgasm eternal. The driving force of twenty-five inches of cock up his ass wouldn't let him break the orgasm.
"Ohh, ohh, it's shooting, I'm blowing it, fuck fuck fuck, don't stop, I can't stop coming ..."
On the boy, on his thighs, cum - redolent of masculinity.
The squirming boy drove the horse over the edge.
Rihumme felt the anal ring clamp down round his mighty cock, heard the boy's cries. He grunted, panted, fucking. The boy's orgasm was a ripple of heaven along the length of his cock. He could hear Salanu's cum splattering hotly on the hay. Slice the cock into him. The boy, the boy, the smell of his cum ...
Rihumme's eyes rolled up into his head. The horse came.
A flood of jism erupted from his equine cock. The stallion jammed his dick up Salanu's ass to the roots. He fired his jism. It flooded from the horse, squirting like a fountain into the Elf-boy. Ceaseless spurts pumped grey fragrant cum up into Salanu, hosing him, flooding his bowels, soaking him with its animal essence. It blustered out of the asshole, between cock and anal pucker, rolled down his legs, over his balls, a grey tide smelling of the sexual potency of the horse. It was as if Rihumme was firing a jet of cum into Salanu's guts. Rihumme in silence shuddered, pouring his jism out, filling the boy's ass beyond overflowing. The hot liquid poured back along his cock, ran out of the ass, onto the hay.
They shot and shot, spasms of ecstasy wracking them, balls clenching, cocks jetting.
When the explosions died away there was a silence broken only by their panting. Salanu collapsed onto the stool, lost in a golden dreamland. His cock remained rock hard. The horse's cock was softening slowly, but it was still jammed up his butt, floating on a sea of grey cum. The fat phallus slowly softened, became more like flesh than stone. Salanu felt it slowly began to withdraw. Horse-musk surrounded him, the source a inch-thick pool of cum of the hay, the tide on his legs and balls and up his ass ...
Rihumme with a movement of his hips began to slide his cock out of the boy. It slinked back down Salanu's intestines. With a whispering slurp the head burst out of the ass. A flood of cum exploded out. The cock dangled beneath Rihumme's belly, long still, full of promise, gleaming wetly, redolent of stud horse and slut boy. It was retreating slowly back into the great leathery sheath.
It was over, they were two separate entities again. It was blissful but not sad. The thrill of the act hung in the air; it would never be lost. Rihumme was ... satiated, for the while. He had taken masculinity at last, it was all that it promised. He'd mated with it, ruled it with his cock. The boy, so pretty, so male, had worshipped the stallion with his tight ass. The god's offering - the grey tide - lay strewn on the hay, on the boy's thighs and balls, between his buttocks, up his ass.
The horse dismounted.
Now devoid of erotic tension the air was silent and still.
Salanu slumped in repose over the stool, awash in bliss as his asshole burbled with slowly escaping jism. His trembling legs, wide spread still, were an invitation for any male to mount him. He gulped in the air, sweat caressing his face, his brain afire with the unutterable pleasure he'd felt ram up into his guts. He could not think. The afterglow of their mating warmed him, though, succored him against the post-coital depression that lurked as it seemed in the nearby shadows.
The deep bond, the ecstatic union, now broken between them, the horse stood away from the heavenly boy. The pink cock like an elephant's trunk swung between his hind legs, wet, glistening like oiled leather. It retracted slowly back into him, a snake returning to its den. Rihumme cast his gaze upon Salanu. Dripping jism caked the boy's thighs, a grey flood covered the tops of his toes, the hay was soaked. Gray fragrant ropes of teen jism were draped over the legs of the stool.
There was a silence in which Salanu dreamed of the consequences of being in perpetual rut, like a human female. Then he asked: "Was I good enough? Are you satisfied?"
"Salanu," Rihumme said gravely, "you do not yet know the way of a stallion, so I forgive you your question. Had you served as mare to any stallion, and had not satisfied him, he would have mounted you again immediately and ridden you hard with the phallus that you were too weak to drain of its offering. He would show you your foolishness, as he fucked you, and give to you for the final time the cock you didn't deserve."
Salanu half-nodded, quietly lay his head on the stool.
"Boy. Look at me."
Obeying the master's command, Salanu turned his head. The warm sight of a stallion post-coital. A dreamy smile curled on his lips, a smile of deep satisfaction and even deeper longing.
"Look at my cock."
The great pink staff had paused in its retreat into its armored sheath, on display. A rush of pleasure stirred in the jism-filled depths of Salanu's bowels.
"Am I erect? No. Not now. This is because your ass satisfied my lust for you. This is because you satisfied me. I am satisfied, as I never have been before."
Salanu closed his eyes. The words soothed a deep fear that he had felt, had felt even when all he'd had was his masturbation fantasies - that he, a mere Elven boy, could never hope to truly satisfy such a magnificent beast as a stud stallion. "I am glad," he said breathlessly. "I am so glad. I would forever be your mate, if you would but have me."
What lust that phrase kindled in Rihumme. Erotic images flooded the aryanlapt's mind. He would fuck this beautiful dark haired Elf for eternity, flooding his tight ass with his fragrant grey tide. He would die with his mighty dick sliming the boy's innards with evidence of his lust.
The stallion watched Salanu slide wearily off the stool and drop to the hay. The boy was sitting in a pool of cooling jism that had farted from his ass when Rihumme had cum in it. He sat with crossed legs: the lower half of his smooth balls sank into the rich layer of cum. The boy sighed, his nose twitching as he breathed in the very essence of the horse. Salanu scooped up a handful of cum, smelt it. "Oh ... " he breathed. "I can't believe you've actually given something this ... beautiful, wonderful, to me."
"All I make in my balls is yours," Rihumme said.
"All you make in your balls I want," Salanu said. "You don't know how long I've dreamed for this moment, this time, when I could sit down, after having given my ass to the beast I lusted for."
"You have longed to fuck animals?"
"Yes. Always. Since I was a boy. I remember watching two dogs fuck once, when I was little. It was so exciting, the way he mounted her after she had accepted him. He just reared up with that pink cock of his - that pink cock, I can still remember it! It was bigger than mine. Then he stuck it in her -- hard! I still jack off thinking about it."
"Do you like all kinds of animals?"
"Yes," Salanu said. "But I like stallions for their lustiness. And the size of their pricks." He grinned.
"Why," asked Rihumme, "do you desire horses so? Alone, out of your race, do you want to mate with me? Why is your kind so adverse to mating with me? I've seen many Elves look upon me with lust, male and even female, but none have ever had the courage you had. I know that for the most part, Elven females come into heat only rarely, and that Elven males seek solace with each other. But why do they not also seek animals to satisfy that lust with?"
"They are fools," Salanu spat. Then he laughed. "They are fools. They do not know what fucking is about."
"They are." Rihumme nodded. Then he said, "You realize that I will not stay here."
A horrified look spread across Salanu's face. "What?"
"A stable is not my place. I am a stallion. I will be free."
"Yes, you should be free. If you go, will you take me with you? I want to learn so much from you. I want you! I am your mare. I want to know your story, your history."
Rihumme nodded. It was time to put in effect a design he'd had in the most secret chambers of his mind since he first felt the boy's lust. "I will tell you these things," he said. "But I cannot do it here."
"Why not?" Salanu asked.
"This stall is not a place that I will live out my life. Stallions do not live in prison."
Salanu nodded slowly. "You are correct. This cannot be your place."
"Let me free."
"Whatever you wish, my lord." Enslaved to the pleasure-instrument now sheathed in the leather scabbard between the stallion's legs, there could be no other answer for Salanu. "But ... take me with you."
The boy's begging satisfied the stallion. For the stallion there was no other answer than this: "Yes. As you wish," for the stallion himself was a slave to the tight ring of pleasure that now dripped jism so sexily. "Are you so willing to give up what you have here so easily?"
"I have nothing here. I am a warrior. All I want is my sword and my armor. And your cock. Father and brother have both been after my ass. What will they think when they find out I lust for beasts? They will send me away. So why not leave now? With my beloved."
"Where would you go?"
"You are my master. I will go with you."
"Salanu, I have many things to tell you. We will journey places - - many places, far places. We will go to strange worlds. You are correct: I will choose our destination. But I do not know the lay of the land around here. I need you to guide me to a someone who may direct me to where I must go."
"I could take you to the Valley of the Stags ... they are knowledgeable about this area."
"That will do for now." Rihumme looked at the closed stable door. "Free me."
Salanu moved with alacrity, leaping up out of the jism to undo the door.
The horse strode proudly from his stable, along the length of the hay-strewn hallway, his hoofs clattering on the boards. The other stallions --Huryada, Tyiript, Aulyor --turned their heads as the magnificent beast paraded out. The stallions were all erect and dripping, snorting at Rihumme, nodding their heads in supplication. Salanu, drying horse jism caking the backs of his thighs, they watched with - lust. As if Salanu were a mare in heat prepared to received them.
Huryada, a great black stallion, thick and muscular, sprouted a 19 inch cock from between his legs. His muscles were taut as a wire; his big balls were drawn up tight against his belly. His mane, short and bristly, stood on end with the force of his lust. His eyes were dark and glossy; his soul was veiled. Huryada was an older horse and had fucked many mares, but he had longed for the sweetness of this boy. Now that the aryanlapt Rihumme had won him over, Huryada wanted Rihumme and Salanu.
Tyiript, a grey racing horse, licked his thick lips with a sex- thickened tongue. His erection was 20 inches long and very thick. Precum was virtually streaming from his cockhead. The true stud of the three, he had three balls encased in his scrotum. He had sired many colts in many mares. Salanu had ridden Tyiript many times in races. Now Tyiript was looking to ride Salanu.
Aulyor was the most beautiful and youngest of the three. His noble face, his bright eyes -- Salanu had always loved him. Salanu had spent many hours caressing his sleek body, feeling the fur, marvelling at the bay color. The Elf boy had, a few times, slipped his hands surreptitiously towards Aulyor's sheathed cock while the great stallion had looked at him with unfathomable eyes. But the Elf's fingers had never made contact with the prize-- he had been too scared. Salanu, imprisoned by his terror, had no choice but to retreat to the hayloft and masturbate, revelling the images of beautiful Aulyor. A wonderful, friendly work horse, Aulyor's 21 inch penis was ready for action.
All the stallions worshipped Salanu and Rihumme with their cocks.
Salanu was not unaware of the lust that Rihumme triggered. Mare's eyes, stallion's eyes, drawn to the sheathed weapon of pleasure that the aryanlapt carried between his muscled thighs. It was a warming thought indeed to know that he, a mere Elven boy, a virgin inexperienced in the motions of fuck, could incite - and satisfy! - lust in such a magnificent a horse as Rihumme. And he was aware of the lusting stallions. It excited him. His cock again began to rear.
"Release my compatriots," said Rihumme.
"I am taking your stallions with me. We will have need of them."
Salanu nodded and freed the stallions. They stroke out onto the hay-strewn floor of the barn, their cocks at the ready.
"There's going to be a storm tonight," Rihumme said.
"You can smell a storm?"
"Yes. It smells like sex feels. Powerful. Masterful. Sweaty. Energy of the rut, filling you, mastering you, stiffening your cock." Rihumme paused. "It is my favorite smell."
Salanu laughed. "Yes. So I would expect."
The pink dot reappeared in the leather sheath between Rihumme's legs. The long cock began to snake out again. Rihumme's eyes rolled upwards into his skull -- what horse could resist the pleasure of getting hard? The mighty weapon emerged again, ready for battle, dripping with precum, glistening with horse-lust.
It was time for Rihumme to mount again. This time he would not take the boy. The aryanlapt was now far more interested in the stallions. Rihumme's eyes surveyed the other stallions. He had a choice of three. They knew what he wanted, what he expected.
Aulyor said (in equine neighing), "I want this boy. He has wanted me for so long. Let me have the boy."
Rihumme nodded. "You may have him. Which of you others want me the most?"
Tyiript said, mischievously, "Which of us has the longer cock?"
"That's unfair," said Huryada. "I've sired more colts."
"Which of you wants me the most?" Rihumme demanded.
"I suppose," said Tyiript, "we both want you equally. We're both virgins in our butts."
"Is that true?" Rihumme asked Huryada.
"Yes. And I want you in my butt badly. Then I want my cock in the boy."
"You two line up side by side," said Rihumme. "Head to tail, tail to head." Tyiript and Huryada did so, in sixty-nine position, touching each other, their flanks quivering. They held their heads upright, proudly. Their cocks were twitching and dripping with anticipation. "I will fuck you both." Then he called to the boy in Elven-fashion. "Salanu! Aulyor wants you! Do you want him?"
The boy had been watching the proceedings closely, fascinated. He had noted Aulyor standing off from the rest, looking at him with lust. "Yes, my lord."
"Then spread for him, like you did for me."
"Yes, my lord." Salanu bent over, pointing his ass at Aulyor. The young stallion whinnied at the sight of the Elf-boy's two half moons spread open, butthole leaking Rihumme's thick, creamy jism. Salanu turned, to look coyly at the stallion. The Elven boy's guts were churning with the anticipation of having another horse in him. His asshole pouted, spitting sperm. The excitement in him was like a living thing, churning and twisting his stomach.
Aulyor came to Salanu. He bent down, shoving his nose between the Elf's cheeks. The smell of Rihumme's jism almost made the stallion come. Saliva began to drip from his lips. The grey horse tongue probed out like an eel emerging from a cave in a reef. With a great sweeping motion Aulyor licked a mouthful of jism from between the Elf-boy's crack. Salanu shuddered with pleasure. "Oh, take me, take me," he moaned. "I love horses ..."
His answering was a thick neighing. Aulyor licked the jism off the boy, cleaning the boy's butt in preparation for mounting. The tongue swirled around and around, never quite touching the tight pouting ring of Salanu's asshole, scooping up the jism in smooth motions. The horse was loving the taste of his new master. Aulyor loved both Rihumme and Salanu, and he wanted them both -- badly. But he wanted the Elf-boy more. This ass-licking was given him a taste of the boy, and of the aryanlapt.
Aulyor licked the horse-cum off of Salanu's thighs. The boy was whimpering and moaning, his eyes slits as Aulyor's tongue touched him in forbidden places. How long had he dreamed for this! He had lusted for Aulyor ever since the stallion was a colt, loving his beauty, his thick sheathed weapon. He felt the horse's cold nose between his cheeks. Then something hot and wet touched his anus. It wiggled and wiggled. Salanu moaned, bent over even further, his belly and back muscles tightening to support him. He spread his cheeks so far that his crack nearly vanished. He shoved backwards. Aulyor's tongue slipped into his anus, a long hot eel of pleasure. Rihumme's cooling semen drooled out onto the tongue, ran back into the horse's throat.
"Oh, gods, eat me!" Salanu cried. He shoved his young, muscular butt back against Aulyor's face. The long tongue was deep inside him, reaching up almost to his navel, it seemed. It swirled around, picking up cum and pulling it back into Aulyor's hungry mouth. He twisted his butt, impaled on Aulyor's long tongue, shoving himself back into it.
The horse tasted the boy's musky interior. He had for so long wanted to be up inside Salanu. It was warm and loving and hot and tight in there -- even after having been unbelievably stretched by the aryanlapt. Spit dribbled off the horse's lips, onto the floor of the barn. His cock was hard as a stone, angrily thrusting out into the air. Aulyor's urge to mount was twenty-one inches of blood-gorged cock, and irresistible.
Aulyor pulled his tongue out of the boy with a long, slurping sound. He sucked on his tongue in his mouth, tasting the boy's ass- mucus. Heavenly. Aulyor backed away from the bent-over Elf, then mounted him, rubbing his muscular belly on the Elf's back. He probed his cock between Salanu's cheeks, precum dripping. The hard pink flesh rubbed against the chaffed lips of Salanu's butthole. The horse neighed. Sperm was churning in his balls, begging for release. He wanted to fuck for the rest of the night. These stupid Elves, Salanu's father and brother and the farm-hands, never realized that their animals wanted to fuck just as much as them. Aulyor had been kept in his stable too long, away from a mares' cunts, watching Elves fuck.
Rihumme circled round the two stallions he would fuck, displaying to them his penis. He watched Huryada swish his tail to one side, revealing his buttocks, his big round asshole. Huryada's big, thick prick was dripping precum, so brightly pink was the flesh that it looked artificial. A rich equine odor rose from the stallion. Tyiript was following Rihumme with his eyes, watching the master-stallion survey him. Rihumme thought that impertinent, but many mares were impertinent before the ritual was completed.
"Do you wish to mate, stallion Huryada?" asked Rihumme, neighing, using the horse-language.
"Yes, stallion Rihumme. I hunger for you."
"Do you wish to mate, stallion Tyiript?"
"Yes, stallion Rihumme. I hunger for you."
"You are my mates." Unlike Aulyor who was too consumed with lust for Salanu, Rihumme wanted the ritual. Sex was made for ritual. "Reveal to me what you offer, Tyiript." The stallion went to stand behind Tyiript's quivering butt. Tyiript moved his tail to one side, and showed his butthole to Rihumme. He pouted it, to hint at the lust he felt. The erotic contractions of the tight ring of muscles sent a squirt of Rihumme's precum to the floor.
Rihumme bent forward, kissed Tyiript's ass. The horse-musk stormed in his nostrils. Rihumme pressed his lips against Tyiript's butt, the ran his tongue up and down the horse's crack from his big trio of balls to the base of his tail. Tyiript shivered. His tail swished anxiously from side to side, a virgin uneasy on the night of his deflowering.
Done with him, Rihumme strode around to the other end of the pairing. Sweat glistened on Huryada's asshole. Gently, lovingly (for Rihumme loved strength and power, which was what Huryada was), he bent down and kissed it. The sweat was heady in his nostrils, the odor of ball-musk and precum as powerful as the feeling the oncoming storm gave to Rihumme. Again, the tongue caressed the base of the passive stallion's balls and tongued the underside of his tail. The black stallion rubbed his ass against the aryanlapt's face.
"Stallion Huryada. Are you in rut?"
"I am in rut."
"Stallion Tyiript. Are you in rut?"
"I am in rut."
"Stallion Huryada. Will you be my mare?"
"I will be your mare."
"Stallion Tyiript. Will you be my mare?"
"I will be your mare."
"Stallion Huryada. Say you must mate with me."
"I must mate with you!"
"Stallion Tyiript. Say you must mate with me."
"We must mate with you!"
"Will you both accept me in you?"
"Yes," the stallions said, their eyes hazed with the pleasure they felt.
"I will take you in your asses. Has any other stallion -- or any other being -- taken you there?"
"No. I am a virgin, awaiting your cock," said Huryada.
"No. I am your slave, your hole to fuck. I await your cock," said Tyiript, always the rebel, never quite following the ritual.
Rihumme decided Huryada would be the first to get his cock. One, because of the taste of his ass-sweat on Rihumme's lips. Two -- Tyiript needed some discipline.
With a smooth movement Rihumme leapt up onto Huryada's strong back. He felt the other stallion stiffen, to support the sudden addition of Rihumme's weight. Huryada's tail brushed the inner side of Rihumme's thighs. Rihumme felt the tight, clasping ring of Huryada's anus against his cockhead. He pushed. He felt the stallion shift uneasily underneath him. Rihumme bent down, nipped at Huryada's neck. "Do not move." The anus did not give way. Huryada was less of a whore than the boy -- but of course, he was a stallion. Rihumme pushed again. The lips were a little more slippery this time from the white stallion's leaking cock. He felt the tight ring part. Then his cock lunged up the horse's ass.
Huryada reared his head back, neighing. His asshole burned. He could feel the aryanlapt's huge cock thrusting upward, splitting the dank moist walls of his asshole apart. The pain was sublime. He felt open, invaded, ruled. The hard cock jabbing in his guts was possessing him, ruling him. It slid in just a few inches, then paused, the apple sized-prickhead holding the stallion's butthole open. "Oh, by Aradd, how I want this!" His balls were drawn up tight against his belly.
"Does it hurt?" asked Rihumme, voice thick with lust.
The aryanlapt forced his cock five inches deeper into Huryada. The strong, black horse squirmed beneath Rihumme's entrance. His cock throbbed against his belly. Rihumme leaned down and bit deeply into Huryada's neck. The black stallion whinnied and reared back, carrying the aryanlapt upward into the air with him. Rihumme used the opportunity to drive forward with his powerful hips. He stabbed into the stallion up to his balls. Huryada screamed and reared again, forward feet flailing. He was stuffed, his rectum bulging around Rihumme's vast cock. His anus gaped like the mouth of a cave. Rihumme's big, dangling horse balls lay draped against Huryada's. Stallion was joined to stallion.
Huryada bounced a few more times, the great pain subsiding, Rihumme riding on top of him, enjoying how the other stallion's asshole quivered and fluttered as he reared. The glorious shaft between his legs was lodged deep in Huryada. Tyiript watched them both nervously, his ears pressed back against his skull.
"Are you ready to get fucked?" Rihumme breathed in Huryada's ear.
"How does it feel?"
"I want to stay on your hard cock forever, master."
Rihumme slid the shaft out of Huryada, then drilled it back in. He began to pump at the other stallion's rear. The black stallion lifted his head towards the roof of the barn, looking upward as if in supplication to a god, while Rihumme drilled his ass. The mucus-lined walls of his rectum wrapped tight round Rihumme's invading cock. Huryada's long pink tongue slid out, caressed his lips. Rihumme churned in the black stallion's ass, shoving his long pole deep, yanking it out until only the fat prickhead parted Huryada's no-longer-virgin walls.
Rihumme turned and looked at Tyiript. The other horse seemed subdued now, watching how the great aryanlapt fucked with such power. But the racing stallion's cock was hard as ever, and dripping, his eyes glued to the erotic juncture where horse's cock met horse's ass. "You will be next," said Rihumme. "You will submit to my cock."
"I will submit," said Tyiript, but his voice was unsure. He flicked his tail. Then he turned to watch the horse fuck the Elf.
Aulyor churned his cock his Salanu's ass. The boy was hot for him. They thrust themselves roughly together, the slut boy eating the horse's phallus with his hungry asshole. Both their eyes were tightly clenched as they vanished into the fuck. The horse could feel the sweet boy yielding beneath his pounding belly. The fat cockhead churned deep inside Salanu's large intestine, the huge shaft massaging the Elf's walnut-sized prostate. The muscles in Salanu's legs stood up in sharp relief as he braced himself against the horse's driving thrusts. He reached back, pulled apart the melon-halves of his ass to give the horse deeper penetration. Blasts of air farted from his ass as Aulyor fucked.
The horse drove faster and faster into the Elf's well-fucked butt. The moment was coming. The thick equine cock churned deep in the boy's ass. Salanu could feel the horse picking up power as it slammed its rod of lust into him. The long tube held him open while Aulyor -- beloved Aulyor, horse of his youth, his fantasies -- fucked him. It was incredible, this feeling of being used by an animal, of being possessed by the raging energy of its cock. Grunts escaped from him, as the horse churned faster and faster in his innards. He could feel the blazing fire of coming orgasm. His eyes were hazing over.
Aulyor came. The horse reared back his head, mane flying, and fired his load deep inside the boy he so lusted after. Hot cream flooded the boy's innards. The stallion's bloated balls filled the boy to overflowing -- once again hot stallion juice erupted from Salanu's tight anal ring, to splatter on the hay-strewn floor, on the backs of his taut thighs. The horse pumped and pumped, shooting all his worth deep into the slut boy. Horse semen ran down Salanu's crack and dripped from his balls.
Aulyor eased his cock from Salanu's asshole, still dripping ropes of fragrant horse-juice. The boy hadn't come. His cock drilled the air, rigid as a log, his balls full and tight and drawn up close to his belly.
Huryada craned his head back, laying his neck against Rihumme's, who hovered close to him. The two stallions ground their hind parts together, loving each other with the power of their fuck. Rihumme's power was immense -- the stallion could not endure such pleasure for too long. Huryada gave a great cry, and fired his immense load out onto the floor of the stable. The thick horsecock fired shot after shot of grey, potent horse-jism, sliming the stallion's belly with the evidence of his love of the fuck. He was slick with sweat.
Rihumme dismounted, yanking his cock out of Huryada's asshole harshly. He looked at the black stallion's hole -- it was slimy with ass-mucus and precum, and little blasts of air farted from it. The rich smell of Huryada's jism filled his nostrils.
Rihumme looked over at Tyiript, who was staring at the immense pool of jism beneath Huryada, and at the enraptured look on the stallion's face. Rihumme twitched his twenty-five inch phallus. "Your turn, now, stallion Tyiript." The aryanlapt could tell by the grey stallion's smell that he was afraid -- of the size of Rihumme's cock, of what getting fucked would mean to a creature that considered himself to be the master of masculinity. But Rihumme knew that, once Tyiript's anal virginity was thrust away, there would be no fear of either cock size or femininity. Maleness was the lust for cock. Even when screwing mares, Rihumme had always glorified in the feeling of his proud, hard cock, not in the feeling of their slick cunts. Tyiript would understand that, once the aryanlapt's cock was in him. Fucking was a male activity.
He went around behind the stallion, who swished the fine hairs of his tail to cover his asshole. "Reveal yourself to me, stallion Tyiript," Rihumme commanded, his voice a growl of lust. He bent close to the horse's butt and breathed on the crack.
"I -- I cannot, my lord." The voice was weak and afraid. He shivered, feeling Rihumme's hot breath on his asshole.
Rihumme bit Tyiript's butt hard, gathering up the flesh with his teeth and twisting. The stallion cried out, tried to yank away. But Rihumme was already moving. He leaped up onto the stallion back, holding him down. Tyiript bucked upward, trying to shake the stallion, to escape the phallus that sought his hole like a sword did its sheath. Rihumme bit him again, on the neck, to show Tyiript that he had no choice but to obey the aryanlapt. Then he rammed his cock forward. The dry gates to the stallion's asshole resisted him for a second -- but a second only. Under the hammer blow they parted. Rihumme' slick cock barreled in. The stallion screamed as the long log lunged in. The massive lance sank in to the balls in one great attack. Rihumme clamped himself to the stallion's bucking back, biting at Tyiript to subdue him. He could feel the other stallion's tail beat a frantic pattern against his inner thighs as he tried to escape. He writhed in pain.
"I am fucking you, stallion Tyiript," Rihumme growled. "You will receive my seed."
The grey racing stallion only moaned, feeling his battered, tattered asshole being pierced by the mighty lance that sprouted from between the aryanlapt's thighs. His tail twitched frantically. He hung his head, letting the stallion fill him, use him, rule him. Fire blazed in his body, from his balls to his tail. He hurt -- this was not the pleasure of screwing a mare -- but his cock would not go down, and he could feel his three nuts shifting excitedly around in his thick, leathern sack.
Left alone, desperately wanting an animal to cause his orgasm, Salanu mindlessly humped Aulyor's flanks, rubbing his hard, hot cock against the bristly fur of the beautiful stallion. As he humped sperm bubbled out of his well-fucked butthole and ran sexily down his thighs. Aulyor stood in the listless abandon of one who has at last achieved a long-dreamed-of fantasy, head bowed, his closed as he savored the memory, the great twenty-one inch prick hanging soft and pink between his legs. Salanu reached out and fondled the shaft. It was hot in his hands, and tough and strong yet yielding as it slowly softened.
A tongue touched his butthole, lapping at the leaking sperm. Salanu slowed his humps, turned. Huryada, recovered from his orgasm, was eating his butt. The black stallion's tongue probed gently between the globes of his ass, smearing Aulyor's jism on his brown skin. Then the tongue slipped inside his puffed-out anal ring, went into him. Like an octopus' tentacle it probed into him. Salanu backed up onto it, still holding Aulyor's cock in his hand. The tongue found his prostate and began to massage him. Salanu felt something go through Aulyor's penis, something hot, then felt a liquid splattering onto his lower legs. The stallion was pissing like the stud he was. Salanu cupped his hands into the stream, lifted it to his nose, smelling the aroma.
Between two horses, smelling one's piss, the other eating his butt, humping a horse's leg frantically like a dog in heat, he came. The hot cream streamed onto Aulyor's flanks. His moans filled the inside of the barn.
Rihumme bucked hard into the stallion beneath him. He loved fucking Elves, and he loved especially fucking Salanu, but there was nothing like fucking so massive a creature as a stallion. Especially a virgin stallion like Tyiript, too nervous to enjoy it but very very tight around the massive cock. He arched his back as he drove powerfully into the triple-balled horse, fucking his ass hard. He bent down again and bit deeply into Tyiript's neck. The horse writhed, whimpered. Tyiript's tail hung limply between his thighs, his butthole spread by Rihumme's pounding cock, his own cock rigid and hard between his legs. His legs were parted, and he no longer resisted. The cock filled his rectum, stretched the mucus-lined walls wide. He could feel the fat prickhead probing between his pelvis, deep inside his body, a powerful, masterful invader. The pain from Rihumme's gnawing teeth was -- exquisite. He could not think, he was in shock from the penetration, from the experience.
He stood there, rear legs spread and extended slighly behind him, his tail tucked meekly to one side, forelegs spread and stiff, holding the weight of Rihumme on his broad back. His three balls were drawn up tight in their sheath. His cock was rigid, hard, twenty inches of horse sexual flesh that had pleasured so many mares -- now hard only because a great aryanlapt, a stallion of the god of lust, fucked his ass and made him into a passive recipient of cock.
But, as Rihumme fucked, pleasure began to flood him. The harsh, burning scraping of Rihumme's cock on his anal ring changed to a warm feeling. The stretching that his intestines did to accomodate the stallion's massive cock began to feel as if Tyiript's innards were being remade into something much finer. The energy which Rihumme pumped into his clasping butt was rejuvenating. A fire of pleasure ignited in Tyiript's balls, streamed and danced along his cock. Precum began to drool from it. He began to pump his butt backwards, into the raging hard thrusts.
Rihumme felt the subtle shift in the other horse's attitude. To himself he smiled. They always came around. He slotted into the tight ass harder and harder, fucking like the great, powerful animal he was, ruling the warm creature he held imprisoned between his thighs, on his long cock. The orgasm was so close now. He felt Tyiript buck back into him, loving the thrusts, just like the Elf boy -- though the Elf boy had never resisted the fact that he was to be fucked.
Tyiript gave a great cry and began to shoot. His balls contracted and a thick white rope shot from the head of his hard cock, landing ten feet in front of him. He fired and fired again, asshole contracting around Rihumme's thrusting cock, long dollops of horse juice erupting outwards. Sperm coated his belly, drenched his hay. Erotically he pumped his hips, as he if were fucking a phantom asshole, shooting and shooting.
The great aryanlapt came, a giant explosion of lust deep inside Tyiript. Great floods of semen pumped into the grey horse, filling his rectum, leaking from around the mighty engorged shaft of Rihumme's cock.
The others stood silently, watching the two stallions come.
When it was over, Rihumme dismounted and turned to look at his band. Tyiript stood listlessly, head hanging, cock and asshole leaking cum still. Rihumme smelled the piss on Salanu, and began to void his own bladder through the arm thick length of his softening cock. The great pool of golden liquid spread out on the cum-drenched hay of the floor.
"Stallions, my Elf-boy, it is time for me to explain who I am and why I am here. I am an emissary from Aradd."
Salanu nodded. Having been fucked by the horse, and knowing intimately the skill the stallion had shown in the art of fuck, he had already guessed that the horse was somehow related to Aradd the God of Male Love.
Then they rode off, together, horses and boy, through the silent courtyard. No horse carried Salanu -- he walked beside them, one of them. The dark bulk of the lodge and barn faded behind as they crossed over the noisy brook that bisected the farmstead itself. They turned eastward, off the road, cutting over fields new-sown, heading towards the dark hills rising around them. Salanu felt as if he were entering a vast dark cave with some loved and trusted teacher - the thrill of entering the unknown and forbidden, the terror of the black and unforeseen future, the warmth imbued by the presence of Rihumme.
Cum rolled still out of Tyiript's, Salanu's, and Huryada's butts. Their bow-legged strides revealed to onlookers how hard they had been fucked. Salanu walked with an erect cock, though the stallions appared to be satiated. He followed behind Tyiript, watching the white jism slurp out of the stallion's puckered asshole. The pungent smell of it was like a drug.
Once, when they paused, Salanu marched forward and stuck his tongue in the stallion's asshole. The taste of cum and shit was heavenly. The warm feeling of the horse's big muscular butt on either side of Salanu's face caused a few droplets of precum to fly from his hard cock. Tyiript looked upward, shocked a bit, as Salanu drank the jism out of his asshole. But then he relaxed, for the feeling of the boy's tongue on his chafed asshole was sooting.
When Salanu drunk his fill, they went on.
Onwards they went, till massive oaks enfolded them in cool shadows. Salanu's skin pimpled, his nipples stiffened to points, his balls drew up tight against his body. The land rose and fell in gentle sweeps as the horses and boy mounted the hill's skirts. From time to time Salanu spoke words of guidance to Rihumme, altering the horse's direction as they passed some recognized landmark.
After some time they crested a high ridge, and Rihumme, his heart realizing what Salanu might be contemplating and what he might be giving up, stopped and turned, so that they boy could see where he had left. Down below in the valley where the farm lay the buildings where he had grown up had faded to indistinguishable blurs, like a distant haze, a troubling memory on the edge of consciousness. Silver moonlight shivered on the stream below. Salanu took a breath, released it all till his lungs held only void.
Rihumme said, "You know that I will take you back, if you desire." The other horses were silent, as the two spoke.
"Yes, I do," Salanu said. He turned away, to look towards the wall of trees for the path. He pointed towards the slender boles of two tall beeches looming like gateposts ahead. "There," he said. "Through there."
Salanu had found the glade two years ago, when his pubes were still naked (though his cock was swelling with incipient maleness). He'd stumbled upon it in the day time, erupting out of a circle of elms, propelled by boyish enthusiasm for exploration, coming out onto its grassy floor with a look of astonished wonder on his face. The air had been drowsily warm, sweat had coursed from his armpits, butterflies had swarmed around. The laughter of the brook rushing down the hill slopes towards the wide lands outside the ring out hills had blended with the wind's whisper in the trees. It was as if he'd stumbled into a new world, had been one of the Elves of the Awakening who had seen the world when it was fresh and new. It was as if the Veil had thinned and he'd gone into the World of the Gods.
He'd never shown this place to anyone else, and he'd never seen anyone else's footprints disturbing the clay along the sides of the brook. It was his place, his fortress behind the circle of elms. He'd not shown it to Konya, who he knew would love it. He had not shown it to Father, or the farm help. It was his private, solitary space. The only avenue of vision out looked up into the sky. He'd learned to jack off here. He'd blown his first wad here. He'd done it so many times here that the meadowgrass smelled of his young jism.
Rihumme strode proudly out of the trees into the glade, his horse- potent balls swinging against his muscled thighs in time with his strides. Salanu was at his side, the other following behind. All of them were covered with drying semen. The air was quiet, only the brook that bisected the glade making only the softest of sounds. The tree-clad slopes of the hills rose all around. The other worldliness was complete - Rihumme, who had dwelt in the World of the Gods, recognized its nearness. Aradd would be watching.
The stallion stopped. The others in the line following him paused also, obeying their silent master. Their eyes swept round the glade. Rihumme's nostrils flared as he breathed the daisy-scented air. He turned his head back towards Salanu. "This is a beautiful place. Is this yours?"
I "It is. I found it." He looked back at Rihumme, who was standing there expectantly. "Do you like it?"
"Yes. What a beautiful smell," and he was not talking about Salanu. Rihumme bent a ripped up a tuft of grass. He chewed on it for a long while. "So peaceful." He turned to the other horses and whinnied. They began to eat.
At the sight of the horse eating Salanu felt his own hunger, pushed aside until now by the magic of walking free out into the world with his mate. He walked over to the brook, knelt and drank. The water pooled coldly in his stomach. Then he got up and lay down on his back, in the grass, looking up at the distant stars.
The stallion, chomping and tearing at the grass, worked his way over to where Salanu lay.
"I never want to go back," Salanu said. "I never want to see you in a stall, ever again. Here is where you belong - outside, in the wilderness. Free. I want to be with you, your mare, your colt, if you will let me."
"I will not ask you to go against your kin to free me," said Rihumme. "I will not ask you to abandon them, either." The horse caught him again with that seem piercing gaze that had enticed him into the glorious fuck. "But I will not make you go back."
"I do not wish to go."
"What do you wish?" asked the stallion.
"I want to go into the world outside," said Salanu. "I want to travel about it. I want to see Kyulon-Lirren. I want to see Olarin march past me in parade. I want to see a ship. I'd love to see a ship. Do you know they keep a squadron in the very harbor of the Dark Lord?"
Slowly, Rihumme said, "Yes. I've heard that tale."
"I want to be a warrior. In the service of no one king - I want to sell my services to the king at war. I know about Bakal Remainyo, and I want to avenge it. I've got a bow and arrow hidden here, I can use them. But I want a sword." He paused. "I don't want to be on a farm, all my life. Behind the walls of warriors - I want to be with them, to be free."
"Yes. You should be free."
"Have you ever been the steed for a knight? Or ridden with the cavalry?"
"I have. I have seen feats of arms. There are many stories I could tell you. I can read in your heart the truthfulness of your feelings, of your longings. I honor them."
"What do you wish? Out of all the world, what do you wish?"
Rihumme thought. Here was an Elf, a beautiful boy Elf, asking him an Elvish thing. What did he, an aryanlapt, a creation of Aradd the God of Love, really want? He wanted to mate. He wanted to fuck. Already life was stirring back into his balls - sperm was beginning again to swim around there, anxious to get out. He was building up again to another fuck. He didn't really care about battles and war and glory, except that it would bring him more males, perhaps ones he could seduce into a harem. He wanted mares, whether male or female he didn't care. He wanted a colt, his own colt, so he could teach him to use his cock as a master of cock should.
But what to say to Salanu? The mastership of the rut was temporarily gone; they were two male companions. One male could only rule another in the fuck, never outside it - that was part of the nature of masculinity.
"I wish," said the horse, "to see all the world. To travel through it, to experience it. To travel through all the Elf-kingdoms, to the realms of Men far away even, even to the gate of the Land of the Gods."
Salanu smiled slightly. "I would be your companion through it all."
"I would have you with me, through it all."
There fell a long silence between them. The stars were wheeling overhead, the night deepening, the shade infusing the space between the trees drawing tighter. They seemed listless, tired, worn out, though their minds were feverish with thought, and new energy began to amass in their balls.
"You told me you would tell me why you desire animals," Rihumme said. "That is why we came here."
"I will," said Salanu. "But will you do one more thing for me?"
"Tell me first why you fuck Elves."
The city, on the coast of the warm Inner Seas, had an air of abandon, of wildness. Kyulon-Lirren had been raised not long after the Day of the Dark, by Elves fleeing the sack of Remainyo, but its birth in darkest tragedy seemed long forgotten. Great trees grew along its marbled boulevards, raising their mighty limbs in wild delight. In the evenings the tavern lights showed late. There was much laughter in the air; the smell of the sea was like an narcotic. The sun rained down its golden wine.
In that city Konyamiand was King. He was a son of Anyongi, who had been a Lord of Remainyo until the Day of the Dark, and who now ruled a kingdom in the distant mountains. Konyamiand had earned his fame as a mariner long ago, when much of the world was unmapped and virgin, and when the Dark Lord Uklo had remained hidden his tower, building the army and navy that one day would destroy the idyllic and false peace of the Elves. He sailed to the End of the World in the West and there broached the Veil between Worlds and entered the realm of the Gods. He'd discovered the Ice in the North. He was loved by many, and loved many in return, and it was often said of him in those happy days that he would never marry. In the end he had, to Sulonyien.
Dark haired and dark eyed, tall and muscled, after the horrible Bakal Remainyo his mood darkened, and he became grim and silent, even stern. Sulonyien, who's mood had always been silent, simpering, and fearful (but who was sexually extraordinarily active, for a Female Elf), became argumentative and nagging with her husband after that battle, while both had worked to oversee the raising of this city. Tiring of her, Konyamiand had sent her away,a clear divorce in the eyes of his people, who beloved and belusted him. But of her came a son, Konyaselend. Konyamiand's mood lightened with the long peace that came after the battle, and Sulonyien's did as well, but they were ever estranged from each other.
Konyaselend became a mariner like his father, and inherited many of his talents. Konyamiand was called by many the greatest mariner who ever lived, his son the second greatest. Although Konyamiand could have grown to resent his perpetual second-place finish to his father, he was of far too noble a temper to succumb to such baseness. He commanded half the fleets of the city, governed the city-fortress of Eneth Gaukye which guarded the narrow entrance to the Inner Seas, and was Captain of the Cavalry. It was because of his fascination with the horse that Rihumme was brought to Kyulon-Lirren.
Rihumme and his guide Erinya had crossed the Veil from Aradd's Realm into the World, coming into it not too far from Kyulon-Lirren itself. Rihumme had followed his guide into the city itself. He marvelled at all the sights: the white marble buildings, the garlanded boulevards, the tall ships gleaming in the semicircle of the harbor. And the Elves: there were so many, the World of the Gods was never so crowded. Everywhere, always underfoot, so that Rihumme had to dance away from them as they jostled him. Laughing and singing, dancing even.
He had seen Elves only rarely before, so they were new to him. But he quickly came to marvel at the shape of their bodies - The Elven neck was divine in its pure shape, in the symmetry of its form. Their manes - hair - so different from his own, but beautiful still, shining with an inner light, soft and warm. He admired the muscles in the males, their firmness and power. He admired the soft curves of the females, their promised comfort.
He wanted to see genitals, but for some reason Elves covered them.
Erinya took him to Konyaselend's mansion, near the sandy shore. It was impressive, massive: on either side of the broad main house spread two wings, encircling a courtyard. Marble columns supported the roof. A tall signal tower rose from the roof, and on the tower's apex were two tiny dots - lookouts eyeing the long estuary of the river that led to the sea.
It was all imposing, tumultuous, and confusing, but Rihumme felt no fear as Erinya led him round the back of the mansion and into an orangery. Beside a silver gong they stopped.
Erinya turned. "I am about to deliver you to your new master," he said.
The word master made Rihumme's heart rebel, and Erinya knew it, but the horse said nothing.
"They - the Elves - have heard of Aradd's blessing, the aryanlapt, but they do not understand you, nor Aradd, nor would they understand your mission if you revealed it to them. You therefor must proceed carefully. I will explain to Konyaselend your breeding potential when he comes. He will no doubt accept you for that alone - after a demonstration. He will speak to you - probably hesitantly, for it will seem strange to him to be speaking to an animal. Nonetheless you should answer his questions, as best you know how.
"Then Rihumme I will leave you here, and you will dwell until you die in the World with the Elves. Aradd Himself has charged you with your mission. Your heart is wild, rebellious - this is why I love you so - and so I foresee that you will attempt to shirk it. You enjoy your penis too much. I warn you: do not. Aradd has purposes and designs you cannot see. You are a tool in the crafting of a subtle work. Or so he intends you. You are free, for Aradd has very little to do with slavery. But it will be best if you serve Aradd as he bid you."
Before Rihumme could reply Erinya struck the silver gong with a mallet. The ethereal sounds resonated through the orangery.
In a few moments two young Elves appeared - one dark haired, dark skinned, the other blond yet equally dark-skinned. They were narrow leather kirts round their waists, fastened with a wide belt. Scabbarded swords dangled at their sides. Their chests were well-defined, developed, their naked hairless thighs heavily muscled. Rihumme could smell their ball-sweat - they were very male, proudly male. He felt his cock swell just slightly in sympathy to their masculinity.
The dark-haired one spoke in a deep, throaty voice. "Who seeks Konyaselend Prince, son of Konyamiand King?"
"I am Erinya, vassal of Aradd, an Ambassador from beyond the Veil between Worlds, clothed in a form perceivable to you. I bring Konyaselend Prince an aryanlapt who is called Rihumme, as gift from Aradd."
The guard bowed. "I will bring your plea to Konyaselend Prince." He turned, leaving the golden-haired guard there, who stood was legs slightly spread, his hand resting easily on his sword-hilt, examining Erinya and Rihumme with a critical eye.
In but a few moments Konyaselend arrived with the dark-haired guard. A tall Elf, ravishingly handsome as was his father, hair dark as Rihumme's mane. His pink lips curled into the slightest of smiles when he saw the horse. His blue eyes, deep as the sea, unclouded by worry, took in the horse's luminance. His stomach was flat, graven with muscles; his chest was broad and his pectorals were heavy. He wore a soft leather loin cloth, hanging from a narrow low-slung belt. Curls of public hair looked above it. The front flap of the loincloth hung just below his heavy balls. His musk dominated the air, overriding the odor of his two guards. It wrestled even with Rihumme's. An electricity crackled in the horse's nose. A pressure swelled up behind his penis, as if he had to piss, as the ball-musk of Konyaselend was sucked into his lungs.
"Erinya," said Konyaselend. "It has been years."
Erinya bowed, so odd a gesture for him - an Emissary of the Divine. "Greetings, Blessed of Aradd. Indeed it has. I see that you and all your kin have prospered in those years."
"So long as Uklo can be held behind siege lines, all will prosper. So." He paused, then looked Rihumme over very carefully, noting the horse's musculature, his bearing. "This is an aryanlapt."
"I am," said Rihumme.
One eyebrow raised on the handsome face. The Elven Prince turned towards Rihumme. "So you do speak, as the tales have said."
"I do not know exactly what these tales are, nor do I know what they have said, but yes, I do speak, as do my kin."
"Do you know how strange that is to me? Do you know that Elves are used to hearing only beings shaped as themselves speak? Men, Dwarves, even Gods who wear our shape. But you - you are a horse, a magnificent one certainly, beautiful and strong, but a horse nonetheless. You don't have my shape."
"And you do not wear mine," said Rihumme. "But it is not strange for me to hear you to speak."
Erinya spoke. "The aryanlapt Rihumme is Aradd's gift to your breeding stock."
Tall Konyaselend shifted his weight onto his right leg, so that the muscles of his thigh stood out in sharp relief under his golden skin. The flap of his loincloth shifted over slightly, revealing more pubic hair. "Has he - have you ever been bred before, Rihumme?"
"I have," Rihumme said proudly. The pressure behind his penis was growing. The rut was rising into him. He did not know if it were merely the presence of Konyaselend, or if he was prescient, but he knew that he would be fucking in a few minutes. Sperm was filling his balls.
"Have you sired?"
"I have many ... offspring."
Konyaselend turned to the dark-haired guard, who was standing in the submissive's position, just behind and beside him. He whispered something. The guard left. The chiseled cheeks of his ass bulged the leather kirt he wore in a most enticing way. "Very well. I shall want a demonstration of your functionality." Konyaselend furtively glanced between Rihumme's back legs. "Soon."
"As you wish." He penis leapt forward, towards erection, he could feel it begin to slowly slide against the leathery walls of his cocksheath. But he stopped it - controlled it, stilled the excitement with all his power. He was a stallion, the master of fuck. He would reveal his weaponry to this Elf, this icon of maleness, this male who reeked of ball-musk and fucking and sweat, only in good time.
With a little smile, as if he were sharing in Rihumme's mastership of rut, Konyaselend turned to Erinya. "So. How fares those who lie beyond the Veil? It has been long since an Elf has crossed there."
"As well as ever." He smiled as well, reading Konyaselend's face too well, knowing the mariner Elf intimately enough to precisely peg his interest. "Their minds are turned here, of course, to you and your kin, and your futile war against the Fallen One."
"Do I get a lecture on futility now?"
"No," said Erinya, but his smile was gone. "All of those have gone for naught. The Gods do not understand why: they have told you all the powers that Uklo possesses. He was Chief of the Order of Gods, long before this world was made, long before his Scarring. He drew the design for this world. He made the Sun, as he was the Prince of Fire. He is a master of sorcery. Though he was weakened, in the Bakal Remainyo, this peace you created, this siege you've laid to Romanel and Eneth Eanth - they cannot endure in the end. You are fighting one of the most powerful beings there is. You have no hope."
Konyaselend was openly grinning, his face mocking Erinya's grim tone - in loving fashion. The Elf loved Erinya as he would a friend. His eyes were bright under his shock of black hair, his teeth were bright against his bronzed skin. "The lecture," he said, laughing.
Rihumme, listening in silence to the interchange, watched Konyaselend's face intently.
Erinya's smile broke again. "Yes. But it's all because we love you."
"Tell me, Erinya, what would you have us do? What is there to do but continue as we are? My father and I maintain squadrons of ships all along the coasts of Romanel. There's a squadron in the very estuary of Kyluel, commanded by a great man ..." his voice trailed off, as he remembered some dreamy event. His burly sailor's hand reached down, absently trailing over the firm mounds of his chest, to reach under the leather flap and scratch. "... Anyway. Olarin's and Amila's armies ring the fortress itself. All the subterranean entrances have long since been closed off. My father is even considering despatching an embassy to the Eastern Kingdoms - the Kingdoms of Men, to enlist their aid, to draw the siege tighter. The siege is tight.
"All forays made by the trolls since we encircled the tower have been repulsed. Uklo is closed in, he cannot get out. He might have been a divine being once, but he now acts through trolls, swords, and siege- engines, not magic, song, and divine power. Uklo is closed in; he cannot get out."
"He has escaped from deeper prisons before, from warders more powerful than any he has now. The Gods have not your confidence. We have dealt with Uklo for far longer than the Elves have been in existence. We know Uklo, and his ways. You cannot win."
The smile never left his face. "What would you have us do? Where can we flee? How can one hide from the Maker of the Sun?"
"If the Elves agree to abandon the World, the Gods will accept you beyond the Veil."
"You will leave Men here as Uklo's slaves? You will do the same to Dwarves? Aryanlapts? You will surrender the labor of the years, the World, with no fight at all?"
"We will - withdraw - to a position where we can gather our strength. Our final assault from him will complete his fall. We will restore the World to its youth - and to the inhabitants we made it for: Elves, Men, Dwarves, and even aryanlapts."
Konyaselend laughed at that, his gaze fixed on Rihumme. His hand again drifted down, coming to rest to cup his inner thigh just belong the damnable leather flap. He massaged the muscle there absently. Rihumme's head swam with the narcotic of the Elf's ball odor.
"Ah yes, ah yes, the aryanlapts. This stallion, Erinya, is magnificent. Do you hear me, Rihumme? He is quite a - master of horses. And other things. Now tell me this - why has Aradd sent their like into the world?" Konyaselend turned to Rihumme. "I would like to hear your version."
"Rihumme cannot tell you Aradd's plans for the aryanlapt," Erinya said. "Aradd swore him to secrecy on that matter. And as for what you ask me - "
A sudden electric odor filled the air. Rihumme's head shot up, turned, his ears pricking forward, his nostrils sucking in huge gulps of the smell. A mare in heat. He now saw here, as the dark-haired Elf led her into view. Semen simmered in his balls, blood rushed to his cock. He snorted, sucking in her odor, feeling the fuck spread out from his balls in fiery waves. She was a magnificent black mare, perfectly shaped, well muscled. Her eyes were softly luminous, but they were filled with the urgent, hot need of a mare heat. A long braided mane caressed her neck.
The smell of her - moist yielding, tight clasping - it drove Rihumme into a frenzied state. He had hovered too long on the edge, being so near the potent Konyaselend.
" - Aradd's animal is the horse. It is his sign. He desires to see the horse multiply. He feels they are also you best ally in your hopeless war. This he why he made the aryanlapt a breeder and a speaker."
But the smile was gone from Konyaselend, and he was barely listening. He was staring at Rihumme, watching the lust go shimmering through the muscled flanks. His eyes widened as the brilliant pink head of the stallion cock spread apart the lips of the sheath. "A breeder," he whispered.
The mare was gazing intently at Rihumme. She was not capable of speech, Rihumme knew, but he did not care; he only wanted to fuck. He knew she had accepted him. The equine ritual here was being done without words, it was in progress towards a satisfactory conclusion though. The guard led her in front of Rihumme, then released her bridle. The guard's cock was erect. His cockhead protruded from beneath the leather kilt, dripping precum. The blond guard was groping his crotch.
Rihumme, feeling the sex in the air, remembered who he was, where he was. For one proud moment he lifted his head, brought himself out of the burning rut, turned to Konyaselend and met the Elf's bright gaze. The horse unleashed his cock, and its long inches began to slither out incredibly fast, driven by the high pressure that had been building ever since he'd laid eyes on Konyaselend. "I am a breeder. And this is my cock." The glorious dick rushed out, curving away from the equine belly in a broad arc.
The dark haired guard was masturbating now. His blond companion was unfastening his own belt.
As the length of the horse cock increased so did the width of Konyaselend's eyes. When the full twenty-five inches of hard horse flesh was revealed the Elf's own cock began to lift.
Rihumme returned to the rut. The mare twitched her tail in anticipation of being mounted. She spread her legs, and squatted down a bit into the preferred equine position. Rihumme bent his face forward, his upper lip curling to reveal his extended tongue. This was not really equine - it was aryanlapt - but she would love this as much as Rihumme loved doing it. And the Elves would be - well, interested.
He bent his head down, inhaling her odor, the biting scent of her hot cunt driving away Konyaselend's ball musk. His prick was leaking a torrent of precum; he felt as if he were pissing precum.
He covered her protruding clitoris with his lips, nibbled at it with his teeth. There was a surprised neighing - he heard it faintly, but did not care. His tongue slid over the hard button. He sucked it into his mouth like it was a cock, nibbled at it. She whickered in pleasure, her eyes slitting at his began to eat her. He thrust his tongue forward and down a bit, between the lips of her cunt.
Konyaselend's cock, all twelve hard inches of it, poked out from his groin, a flesh sword thrusting the narrow flap of leather aside. All three Elves were now erect, all their eyes locked on the stallion who was tonguing the mare, on the stallion who looked to be on the verge of firing a huge load into the air, on the stallion who ruled the moment with his cock. The bright purple head of Konyselend's cock spat a pearlescent rope of precum, a little precursor orgasm, which drifted in a slow fall like a spider dropping on a line of silk towards the ground.
Honey - lubricant leaked from her cunt - dripped off Rihumme's chin as he ate and ate. She hunched her ass against his probing face, twisted it to send his tongue swirling around her channel. She rubbed the tiny hard nub of her clit over the ridges of his teeth. She was whinnying, panting, snorting. If she'd been aryanlapt (the colt she'd bear from this fucking would be) she'd have been babbling delirously.
In a smooth movement Rihumme pulled back, lunged up onto her smooth back, and slid forward. His cock plunged into her cunt, between the dripping, gaping lips. The warm wetness slurped up along his length. He took her in that one powerful thrust, as horses did when fucking other horses. The pleasure of him finally in her sent her to bucking her hips, back at him, violently urging him deeper into her. His cockhead was lodged in her womb, but still she wanted him further inside her. Her cuntlips pursed and kissed at his balls.
He yanked it out, slammed it back in, one powerful thrust of his hips sending shuddering waves of pleasure through her. The flared ridge of his cockhead dragged through the wet tight tunnel.
"Gods," said Konyaselend, lube freely dripping now, as if he were in the cunt with Rihumme.
Erinya, whose sexual drives turned neither to horses nor Elves, and who was therefor completely unaroused, said, "Yes, he is impressive. And I see you find him exciting to watch."
"Gods, yes. I've never seen a mare in such pleasure. I've never seen a stallion fuck with suck power."
"After a few such sessions with Rihumme, she will begin to come into heat more often. She will bear more colts for you."
"Yes ... yes."
Rihumme was snorting, puffing, eyes shut, fucking her and fucking everything with a hole to fuck. His cock lube mixed with her cunt lube, they squished together as they fucked. A red glow spread out of his balls and into his brain. The pressure was building. The need to blow a load was absolute. The odor of erect Konyaselend was now clear in his nostrils, a brilliant narcotic. Rihumme turned, in the middle of his longcocking, to look the Elf again in the eyes.
The Elf had grabbed the dark haired guard by the ears, forced him to his knees. Konyaselend had thrust his cock into the guard's mouth. A bulge was moving up and down the guard's throat near the base of the deck. The blond guard was also on his knees, behind Konyaselend, tonguing the Elf's ass, jacking off. Konyaselend's eyes were focused directly on the plunging, rearing horse cock.
The explosions of jism came simultaneously, equine eye on Elven cock, Elven eye on horse dick.
The horse stopped his story. He had an erection. So did Salanu. "And that is only part of what I needed to tell you." He looked upward, his long horse face raised like an erection towards the sky. "It is getting late."
"I want to hear this story. It - stirs things within me. I have to tell you. I don't really know why I want animals. I only know I do. I've never really thought about that question. But this story - its making me think."
The horse said, "Yes, well and good. But as for now, bend over."
Salanu rose, his cock hard and stiff, jutting up between his legs. He looked at the stallion's heavy, dangling balls, the thick pink cock already dripping lusty precum. A slight smile came to his lips as he thought of the pleasure that would soon be his. He turned, presenting his chiseled, muscled ass to the erect stallion. There was no choice for him now but to obey his animalistic master.
The horse mounted the boy, advancing on him arrogantly, sure of his power and dominion over the boy. The greatest instrument of power on this world was an upraised, erect cock. Like a sword it ruled the moment, could bring life or destruction. The stallion could feel the boy's warmth between his legs. In the cool night it felt as if he straddled the sun. Aradd would be proud.
The thick cock head probed between Salanu's cheecks. No equine ritual; they were mates, and mates always gave what was demanded of them sexually. But nonetheless Rihumme paused, precum dripping into the very cup of Salanu's ass, and he said, "Are you sure you can take this? With nothing to support you?"
"I'll have your cock to support me, my lord."
And the horse drove his dick into the silken tunnel. The churning began again in Salanu's guts. It was heaven.
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