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Strapped down in tight bondage, the virgin mare's rump is raised for him, an anthro in the prime of her breeding life ripe to be taken in the most carnal way possible.\n\nThe only question is whether her plump and virile little body will survive the breeding, stretching around his massive length and girth, or whether her screams will be heard back in the village... Untold pleasure awaits in the hooves of the Horse Lord, but even that pleasure comes with a price of breeding!\n\n\n---\n\n\nThank you for reading! This re-published tale has been made available as an eBook worldwide via Smashwords!\n\nSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/917745\n\n\n\n\nThank you for reading!\n\nIf you enjoyed this story, please take a look at my website, where similar stories are listed by kink!\n\nhttps://alismitsy.wordpress.com/\n\n\nAll new releases will be announced via my Twitter account!\n\n@alismitsy\n\n\nI am also available for custom stories, tailored to your preferred nuances and characters. Please e-mail the following address for further information.\n\narianmabe@gmail.com\n","description_bbcode_parsed":"A sacrifice must be made to the god of the Horse Lord and one virgin mare has been chosen...
When a mare is chosen to sacrifice to the horse lord, there is little that can be done and Bwci is very much an unwilling sacrifice, twisting and writhing and fighting every step of the way as she is taken before the Horse Lord in all his might. Strapped down in tight bondage, the virgin mare's rump is raised for him, an anthro in the prime of her breeding life ripe to be taken in the most carnal way possible.
The only question is whether her plump and virile little body will survive the breeding, stretching around his massive length and girth, or whether her screams will be heard back in the village... Untold pleasure awaits in the hooves of the Horse Lord, but even that pleasure comes with a price of breeding!
---
Thank you for reading! This re-published tale has been made available as an eBook worldwide via Smashwords!
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/917745
Thank you for reading!
If you enjoyed this story, please take a look at my website, where similar stories are listed by kink!
https://alismitsy.wordpress.com/
All new releases will be announced via my Twitter account!
@alismitsy
I am also available for custom stories, tailored to your preferred nuances and characters. Please e-mail the following address for further information.
arianmabe@gmail.com
","writing":"Virgin Sacrifice\nTaken by the Horse Lord\n\n\nBwci's heart pounded in her chest, each beat a painful smack as if a bird struggled to free itself from the cage of her ribs. Tied over a rounded block of wood, the young, albino equine twisted against the ropes, rubbing the skin raw in the dying embers of sunset. She had tried to escape from the mounting block for hours to no avail. No one ever escaped, yet the anthro clung to a shred of hope that she could free herself from the sanded smooth log on the raised platform before it was too late. She curled her fingers into a fist and relaxed them, wriggling on her belly into a more comfortable position, limbs bound on either side of the log so that her full weight rested upon it. She had been there since sunrise and the breeze tickled her bare nether regions, playing the hair of her fine, white tail over her plump sex. She was ripe for the taking for the very first time.\n\nEvery month, the mages gathered. Every month, her village sacrificed a maiden to the Horse Lords. Every month, it was the same ritual of choosing, uncovering which mare had been chosen this month. Sometimes, the Horse Lords signed that they desired a stallion, though that was rare. When the village mages chanted, swaying, they would be sent a sign from the Horse Lords - they would tell the mages which mare was to be sent to the mounting block. None of the villagers other than the mages and perhaps the chief, now that Bwci thought about it, knew how the mages received the signs but they had never questioned that. There was evidence enough that the Horse Lords existed and were just, as long as sacrifices were made, and the continued peace in their land was a blessing indeed.\n\nThe sacrifice fared worse than the villagers.\n\nIt did not matter whether the mare sent was a virgin or experienced. After the ordeal, she would return to the village in whatever state the Horse Lords left her in, broken or proud - there was no way to tell. Usually the sacrifices tried to clean themselves before returning, but all of them held the rank stench of a raw, powerful stallion, his seed forever marking them as bred. Months later, their bellies would swell and those with mates would weep.\n\nSometimes the Horse Lords would have a favourite mare to call on to be a sacrifice, repeatedly. The mates of those poor souls rarely stayed with them long once it was clear that they were in demand of the elite and left them to raise four-legged offspring that were no more intelligent than beasts. That was the will of the Horse Lords. Bwci shuddered and threw her weight into the ropes, throwing with a sick feeling in her heart that they would hold, just as they had for every other mare in her position.\n\nAnd he was coming.\n\nThe thud of hooves drawing near was unmistakable. Nothing like the gait of an anthro equine, the thunder of a full-fledged gallop made Bwci shiver and she shrank into the wooden block as if she meant to disappear completely. Around her, the forest shivered, the mounting block set in a small clearing. The space only had to be large enough for one of the Horse Lords to reach her and she had heard that they liked their privacy, hence the comforting pines branching out into the open air, creating a thick canopy.\n\nThud-thud, thud-thud. The hoof beats came swiftly. The Horse Lord crashed through bracken and brambles alike, power surging through his veins. He forged his own path. In one, last futile attempt, Bwci whinnied fearfully and hurled her body back against the ropes, shoulders arching up as her tail flagged at the strain of it. Yet, it was useless, absolutely useless. She would be taken.\n\nAnd then he burst between two tree trunks in a shower of pine needles and bracken, thrown up by his mighty hooves. Bwci's eyes went wide.\n\nA stallion, eighteen hands - her best estimate in the moment - at the shoulder slowed to a canter as he entered the clearing, black coat gleaming in the crimson sunset, soon to turn to twilight. Built like a four-legged draft horse, he exuded elegance from his muscle-laden body, moving with the grace of one who had known the lands and the form he chose for countless centuries. Bwci gulped, nickering anxiously. He circled the clearing once, twice, three times while the small mare tried to follow his course, head whipping back and forth when he tracked behind her, inspecting his sacrifice from every angle, tasting her fear. Her mouth was dry and she clamped her tail down over her rump as if it would help her case to show herself as unwilling. Her wrists and fetlocks were sore from the rope and she groun her teeth together, lifting the fine curve of her cheek. She would not be afraid. She would survive.\n\nThe horse flowed into trot and them a long-legged walk, obsidian mane shining over the arch of his neck. Pride thrummed through his form and he approached her head on, leaping on to the platform from a walk with one powerful surge of his hindquarters, front hooves tucking up and thudded down on the wooden boards. They quivered and held his weight. Hanging his head over her back, he huffed, snorting a wash of hot breath over her back. She shuddered as his velvety muzzle brushed her back and she fought the natural instincts of her body, tail aching to jerk up in welcome.\n\nA virgin... You are delectable, my dear.\n\nShe started. He spoke? Well, that did not help her situation at all. She simply had not thought they were ones to communicate with the villagers, the Horse Lords. Strange. Confusing. Irrelevant.\n\nTrembling, Bwci closed her eyes as the massive head swung over hers, the horse standing to her side so that he hung over her. Anger flared in the mare's stomach. Was he just toying with her? Fury made her bold.\n\n``Leave me alone!'' Bwci snapped, teeth clicking together an inch from the stallion's neck as he jerked upwards just in time to avoid her teeth. ``You can get by without doing this! Stop abusing us! Leave all of us alone! We never did you any harm! Never went against you!''\n\nSnorting, the Horse Lord trotted around her, heavy hooves thumping. They had to be the size of the clay plates the villagers ate their evening meals from. She could not help but feel in awe of his sheer size and confident strength. It was only natural. Unwelcome heat raced through her body, clouding her thoughts, and she bared her teeth at the stallion, ears pinned to her skull.\n\nThere is a fire in you, filly. He nipped her rump, making her squeal. I shall quench it.\n\nAs he passed in front of her muzzle, she whimpered to see his cock unsheathed, hanging below his stomach. Larger than any of the anthro stallions she had seen in the village, it was larger than her arm, sending writhing snakes of anxiety into her stomach. Her lips parted in shock and, to her shame, her pussy lips moistened, drooling her own juices in preparation for the entry it knew was coming from the scents on the air, an instinctive reaction. Traitor. Her body was a traitor to see him as a breeding stud, strong genes to pass on, further her line. It would break her! She would not live! It did not matter how strong in spirit she was to last through the ordeal - her body could not take that!\n\n``You'll kill me,'' she whinnied shrilly, the piercing note cracking in terror. ``Please, I beg you, don't do this to me. There are other mares, bigger mares. They have taken you before. Please - take one of them! Some of them even like it, I'm sure. They tell tales. They want you. Have mercy on me, my Lord.''\n\nYou are not to ask mercy of me, filly. He stomped one hoof, pawing the air. Know your place. I chose you.\n\nEnd preview.\n\nThank you for reading! This re-published tale has been made available as an eBook worldwide via Smashwords!\n\nSmashwords: HYPERLINK \"https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/917745\" https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/917745 \n\nThank you for reading!\n\n \n\nIf you enjoyed this story, please take a look at my website, where similar stories are listed by kink!\n\n HYPERLINK \"https://alismitsy.wordpress.com/\" https://alismitsy.wordpress.com/ \n\n \n\nAll new releases will be announced via my Twitter account!\n\n@alismitsy\n\nI am also available for custom stories, tailored to your preferred nuances and characters. Please e-mail the following address for further information.\n\n HYPERLINK \"mailto:arianmabe@gmail.com\" arianmabe@gmail.com \n\nIf you liked this story, you may also enjoy...\n\nHer First Time with a Stallion: Of Lust and Easing His Need\n\nShe?s mad at her boyfriend for sticking her with the stable chores, but there?s a certain wickedness at play with a young woman left on the yard alone...\n\nKassia has had her eye on one particular stallion and she?s drawn to him each and every time she goes down. The poor dear looks so lonely without any other horses around and it?s so cruel to parade all the mares by him while he?s not allowed to enjoy himself.\n\nWhere?s the harm in giving him a helping hand? But when that hand turns to something kinkier still, Kassia may have more stallion than she bargained for...\n\nBred in the Stocks: The Claim of a Stallion\n\nElla is a mare who knows what she wants but perhaps never quite knew how to get it. And one?s virginity is a pesky thing, always hanging around while her seasons, as an anthro mare, come and go, each worse than the last. She has to do something about that and that something just turns out to be volunteering to be bred in public for all to see. The season and burning heat will be gone and, hey, she?ll get a little one of her very own out of the arrangement, even if she has to be erotically exposed and vulnerable throughout.\n\nBut the stallion suitor they bring for her is no gentle lover but just what she truly wanted, a stud worthy of the name who walks on four legs, not two. And Ella is in for the ride of her life...\n\nPlease note that this is fantasy erotica containing furry/anthro characters and is in the realm of fiction only.\n\nThe Filly Maker: Bound and Dominated by a Futa Mare\n\nThere are females in our world that are not true to kind, although they look to be as natural as any woman. One would have to look closely, or be fortunate enough to see them in the boudoir, to tell that they are not all female but know more of what makes a male a male than any female has a true right to know.\n\nAnd why is that? Because they are both genders at the same time, always wanton and always seeking out new partners to lure back to their stables of pleasure.\n\nThe filly makers are out to take what those beneath them crave, two-legged mares with human intelligence and especially bred to be lustful and skilled in the raw art of love-making. But they are not what they seem, mere mares, packing extra equipment where it counts in the stables.\n\nThe only question now as to which filly will come by their special brand of treatment next...\n\nThe Slave Mare and the Breeding Farm: Breeding Stock\n\nThe breeding farm is there for one purpose and one purpose alone: to breed the slaves to the most vivacious of companions...\n\nShe knows what her life will be like as a broodmare, just there to be bred and taken, although she is not always a furry in the mood for her job. What more can one expect from a spotted mare with a forelock that falls oh so beautifully over her blue eyes? She?s turned heads at auction and the stud farm simply had to have her to add to their breeding stock when the opportunity arose. But it?s come time for her first breeding and two very special stallions have been picked out for the anthro slave mare to take...\n\n","writing_bbcode_parsed":"Virgin Sacrifice
Taken by the Horse Lord
Bwci's heart pounded in her chest, each beat a painful smack as if a bird struggled to free itself from the cage of her ribs. Tied over a rounded block of wood, the young, albino equine twisted against the ropes, rubbing the skin raw in the dying embers of sunset. She had tried to escape from the mounting block for hours to no avail. No one ever escaped, yet the anthro clung to a shred of hope that she could free herself from the sanded smooth log on the raised platform before it was too late. She curled her fingers into a fist and relaxed them, wriggling on her belly into a more comfortable position, limbs bound on either side of the log so that her full weight rested upon it. She had been there since sunrise and the breeze tickled her bare nether regions, playing the hair of her fine, white tail over her plump sex. She was ripe for the taking for the very first time.
Every month, the mages gathered. Every month, her village sacrificed a maiden to the Horse Lords. Every month, it was the same ritual of choosing, uncovering which mare had been chosen this month. Sometimes, the Horse Lords signed that they desired a stallion, though that was rare. When the village mages chanted, swaying, they would be sent a sign from the Horse Lords - they would tell the mages which mare was to be sent to the mounting block. None of the villagers other than the mages and perhaps the chief, now that Bwci thought about it, knew how the mages received the signs but they had never questioned that. There was evidence enough that the Horse Lords existed and were just, as long as sacrifices were made, and the continued peace in their land was a blessing indeed.
The sacrifice fared worse than the villagers.
It did not matter whether the mare sent was a virgin or experienced. After the ordeal, she would return to the village in whatever state the Horse Lords left her in, broken or proud - there was no way to tell. Usually the sacrifices tried to clean themselves before returning, but all of them held the rank stench of a raw, powerful stallion, his seed forever marking them as bred. Months later, their bellies would swell and those with mates would weep.
Sometimes the Horse Lords would have a favourite mare to call on to be a sacrifice, repeatedly. The mates of those poor souls rarely stayed with them long once it was clear that they were in demand of the elite and left them to raise four-legged offspring that were no more intelligent than beasts. That was the will of the Horse Lords. Bwci shuddered and threw her weight into the ropes, throwing with a sick feeling in her heart that they would hold, just as they had for every other mare in her position.
And he was coming.
The thud of hooves drawing near was unmistakable. Nothing like the gait of an anthro equine, the thunder of a full-fledged gallop made Bwci shiver and she shrank into the wooden block as if she meant to disappear completely. Around her, the forest shivered, the mounting block set in a small clearing. The space only had to be large enough for one of the Horse Lords to reach her and she had heard that they liked their privacy, hence the comforting pines branching out into the open air, creating a thick canopy.
Thud-thud, thud-thud. The hoof beats came swiftly. The Horse Lord crashed through bracken and brambles alike, power surging through his veins. He forged his own path. In one, last futile attempt, Bwci whinnied fearfully and hurled her body back against the ropes, shoulders arching up as her tail flagged at the strain of it. Yet, it was useless, absolutely useless. She would be taken.
And then he burst between two tree trunks in a shower of pine needles and bracken, thrown up by his mighty hooves. Bwci's eyes went wide.
A stallion, eighteen hands - her best estimate in the moment - at the shoulder slowed to a canter as he entered the clearing, black coat gleaming in the crimson sunset, soon to turn to twilight. Built like a four-legged draft horse, he exuded elegance from his muscle-laden body, moving with the grace of one who had known the lands and the form he chose for countless centuries. Bwci gulped, nickering anxiously. He circled the clearing once, twice, three times while the small mare tried to follow his course, head whipping back and forth when he tracked behind her, inspecting his sacrifice from every angle, tasting her fear. Her mouth was dry and she clamped her tail down over her rump as if it would help her case to show herself as unwilling. Her wrists and fetlocks were sore from the rope and she groun her teeth together, lifting the fine curve of her cheek. She would not be afraid. She would survive.
The horse flowed into trot and them a long-legged walk, obsidian mane shining over the arch of his neck. Pride thrummed through his form and he approached her head on, leaping on to the platform from a walk with one powerful surge of his hindquarters, front hooves tucking up and thudded down on the wooden boards. They quivered and held his weight. Hanging his head over her back, he huffed, snorting a wash of hot breath over her back. She shuddered as his velvety muzzle brushed her back and she fought the natural instincts of her body, tail aching to jerk up in welcome.
A virgin... You are delectable, my dear.
She started. He spoke? Well, that did not help her situation at all. She simply had not thought they were ones to communicate with the villagers, the Horse Lords. Strange. Confusing. Irrelevant.
Trembling, Bwci closed her eyes as the massive head swung over hers, the horse standing to her side so that he hung over her. Anger flared in the mare's stomach. Was he just toying with her? Fury made her bold.
``Leave me alone!'' Bwci snapped, teeth clicking together an inch from the stallion's neck as he jerked upwards just in time to avoid her teeth. ``You can get by without doing this! Stop abusing us! Leave all of us alone! We never did you any harm! Never went against you!''
Snorting, the Horse Lord trotted around her, heavy hooves thumping. They had to be the size of the clay plates the villagers ate their evening meals from. She could not help but feel in awe of his sheer size and confident strength. It was only natural. Unwelcome heat raced through her body, clouding her thoughts, and she bared her teeth at the stallion, ears pinned to her skull.
There is a fire in you, filly. He nipped her rump, making her squeal. I shall quench it.
As he passed in front of her muzzle, she whimpered to see his cock unsheathed, hanging below his stomach. Larger than any of the anthro stallions she had seen in the village, it was larger than her arm, sending writhing snakes of anxiety into her stomach. Her lips parted in shock and, to her shame, her pussy lips moistened, drooling her own juices in preparation for the entry it knew was coming from the scents on the air, an instinctive reaction. Traitor. Her body was a traitor to see him as a breeding stud, strong genes to pass on, further her line. It would break her! She would not live! It did not matter how strong in spirit she was to last through the ordeal - her body could not take that!
``You'll kill me,'' she whinnied shrilly, the piercing note cracking in terror. ``Please, I beg you, don't do this to me. There are other mares, bigger mares. They have taken you before. Please - take one of them! Some of them even like it, I'm sure. They tell tales. They want you. Have mercy on me, my Lord.''
You are not to ask mercy of me, filly. He stomped one hoof, pawing the air. Know your place. I chose you.
End preview.
Thank you for reading! This re-published tale has been made available as an eBook worldwide via Smashwords!
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