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furry ladies are hot and ready to trot! Left alone in the barn, the racing mares are up to no good (as usual) while the humans are waiting to bring them their studs to enjoy. What better life could a human-mare ask for? They love their lives and their little \"sessions\", but there will always be one that has to be, well...a little bit of a barn basic bitch.\n\nBut the \"mares\" will put her back in her place if the studs don't come into play first!\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\nSlave for Sale: A stallion forced up for auction\n\nA slave stallion has few rights and no rights at all to keep others from touching and groping him while he's on public display at auction. He can feel their eyes on him, lusts devouring him as if he is a mere object to be enjoyed. To them, actually, he is. And there's little he can do about it.\n\nAbused before the crowd, he is forced into depravity as he tries to pull away, bondage and threats keeping him firmly in place. It is no existence for any furry, but is there someone in the crowd who may just take him away from the dreaded place? Only the auction will tell.\n\nHe may not be just a slave stallion forever, after all.\n\nThe Volunteer Broodmare: To be Bound and Seeded\n\nA foal is a tall order for many anthros - furries who are creatures that walk on two legs with the intelligence of human beings. Of course, they have lives to live and high-flying jobs just like the rest of the population but for one mare the desire for a belly round and pregnant rises above all else. She's desperate, having tried for so long and, well, without a long-term partner in this day and age, Menna is stuck longing for a foal to call her own.\n\nBut there is one breeding programme that can help her, bringing her need and desire to an erotically kinky edge as she is strapped up in pony play gear on Arian's fetish breeding centre...\n\nYet will she leave with her stomach heavy with foal? She may need to be bred more than once just to be sure!\n\nBridled: Training the Slave Stallion\n\nAce has a poor stallion in her hold and he is not to know what her mood is, how quickly her wiles may change in the blink of an eye. She has him there to use and abuse, the bound and hapless slave stud, but he signed up to be in her service and knew just what he was getting into...\n\nOr did he? No one is to say. But he's there to stay and he must please his mistress at all costs...\n\nThe Horsewife: Stealing Kisses\n\nHe's loved his pony-wife for years on years, his whole life having turned around once she came into his world. It's love at its finest, if its most unconventional. But that is the dream of having a pony-wife to call one's own in silken sunshine mornings and kisses stolen before the day is begun. \n\n\n---\n\n\nThank you for reading! This is a preview for a collection of erotic short stories and is available to purchase worldwide via Smashwords and distributors!\n\nSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891 \n\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":"Studs and fillies come and go but it's the passion between equine anthros that is set to come into the spotlight in this kinky collection, erotica thrumming through in lust, love and even a little bit of force too...
---
This collection contains the following stories:
Barn Basic Bitches
A cross between humans and horses, these furry ladies are hot and ready to trot! Left alone in the barn, the racing mares are up to no good (as usual) while the humans are waiting to bring them their studs to enjoy. What better life could a human-mare ask for? They love their lives and their little "sessions", but there will always be one that has to be, well...a little bit of a barn basic bitch.
But the "mares" will put her back in her place if the studs don't come into play first!
The Filly Maker: Bound and Dominated by a Futa Mare
There 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.
And 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.
The 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.
The only question now as to which filly will come by their special brand of treatment next...
Slave for Sale: A stallion forced up for auction
A slave stallion has few rights and no rights at all to keep others from touching and groping him while he's on public display at auction. He can feel their eyes on him, lusts devouring him as if he is a mere object to be enjoyed. To them, actually, he is. And there's little he can do about it.
Abused before the crowd, he is forced into depravity as he tries to pull away, bondage and threats keeping him firmly in place. It is no existence for any furry, but is there someone in the crowd who may just take him away from the dreaded place? Only the auction will tell.
He may not be just a slave stallion forever, after all.
The Volunteer Broodmare: To be Bound and Seeded
A foal is a tall order for many anthros - furries who are creatures that walk on two legs with the intelligence of human beings. Of course, they have lives to live and high-flying jobs just like the rest of the population but for one mare the desire for a belly round and pregnant rises above all else. She's desperate, having tried for so long and, well, without a long-term partner in this day and age, Menna is stuck longing for a foal to call her own.
But there is one breeding programme that can help her, bringing her need and desire to an erotically kinky edge as she is strapped up in pony play gear on Arian's fetish breeding centre...
Yet will she leave with her stomach heavy with foal? She may need to be bred more than once just to be sure!
Bridled: Training the Slave Stallion
Ace has a poor stallion in her hold and he is not to know what her mood is, how quickly her wiles may change in the blink of an eye. She has him there to use and abuse, the bound and hapless slave stud, but he signed up to be in her service and knew just what he was getting into...
Or did he? No one is to say. But he's there to stay and he must please his mistress at all costs...
The Horsewife: Stealing Kisses
He's loved his pony-wife for years on years, his whole life having turned around once she came into his world. It's love at its finest, if its most unconventional. But that is the dream of having a pony-wife to call one's own in silken sunshine mornings and kisses stolen before the day is begun.
---
Thank you for reading! This is a preview for a collection of erotic short stories and is available to purchase worldwide via Smashwords and distributors!
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891
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":"Kinky Hooves\n\nA collection of equine anthro erotica\n\nThank you for reading! This is a preview for a collection of erotic short stories and is available to purchase worldwide via Smashwords and distributors!\n\nSmashwords: HYPERLINK \"https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891\" https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891 \n\nContents\n\n HYPERLINK \\l \"barnbasicbitches\" Barn Basic Bitches \n\n HYPERLINK \\l \"thefillymaker\" The Filly Maker \n\n HYPERLINK \\l \"slaveforsale\" Slave for Sale \n\n HYPERLINK \\l \"thevolunteerbroodmare\" The Volunteer Broodmare \n\n HYPERLINK \\l \"bridled\" Bridled \n\n HYPERLINK \\l \"thehorsewife\" The Horsewife \n\n HYPERLINK \\l \"otherstories\" Other stories by this author \n\n HYPERLINK \\l \"bonus1\" Bonus story! \n\n HYPERLINK \\l \"bonus2\" Bonus story two! \n\nBarn Basic Bitches\n\nAs genetic manipulation looked towards more profitable venues than resurrecting old species for the sake of humanity - it was humanity, after all, who had rendered them extinct - it was no surprise that the eyes of investors turned to horse racing. There were many that claimed that a scientific field should work towards a goal to benefit mankind, although it was the investors that had the final say in the matter. Horse racing was a goldmine and one to exploited - for the sake of science, of course, nothing more than that. If they profited from the endeavour of making horses quicker and with higher stamina, as a very basic premise, they would then be able to put the money towards more wholesome projects, such as curing terminal diseases. It was just that simple.\n\nAnd what could be more interesting and scientific than horses that looked a little less...horse-like?\n\nThe result of their experiments, splicing genes in clinical conditions, proved to be a success indeed. Equines with the body structure of humans, walking on two legs with all the swishing tails and bright eyes of their four-legged brethren. In all natural equine colours and beyond, their genes could be altered as they were bred to produce whatever colouration was required. It was only the strength and speed on the racetrack that could not be determined as they bred and foaled, each foal different to the last. They had personalities that had not before been expected. And, when it came to the racecourse, they had to have a certain spirit to lend fire to their hooves with no rider to gee them on.\n\nThey were far from the horses the world was used to, locked up in stables and shipped from pillar to post without a second thought. Sure, they could take and walked on two feet, or hooves, like a human being but they had no rights and were certainly not human in themselves. As good as livestock, they could be bought and sold without any element of slavery coming into question, unless one wanted to go down the road of thinking that the cows grazing fields between milking sessions for dairy farmers were also slaves to the whims of humans.\n\nNo, that would be a step too far.\n\nThe mares leaned over the half doors of their stables, ears twitching and tails flicking from side to side. An air of calm encompassed the stable as the afternoon drifted into dusk, moths rising from the long grass of their fields - for exercise rather than grazing - and dandelions swaying gently in the evening breeze. The racing yard was off the beaten track in the Welsh mountains. It was a long hike to most race meets, the owner had found that the two-legged equines fared better when kept further away from most humans. They didn't quite understand one another. Maybe one day they would.\n\nHoused in a separate barn to the stallions, who lived in an outdoor block of stables, the girls chattered quietly amongst themselves, stretching out sore muscles from the day. One mare, a glowing palomino, trotted on the spot in her stable, sinking into a deep squat every thirty seconds to power upwards in a fluid, explosive movement, repeating the motion as sweat darkened the coat behind her ears and down the arch of her neck. Goldie was one of the quickest out of the gate when they put her to the test on the track. Her heart pounded and she saw the crowds cheering her on in her mind's eye. To be the best, one had to train. And she would train and train and train until she dropped into her straw bed from sheer, satisfied exhaustion.\n\nNone of them wore any clothes and Goldie small breasts bounced uncomfortably as she jumped, though she tried to ignore the twinge. If she could improve herself, it was worth it. Perhaps she would have to ask her owner for a stable bra or training bra so that discomfort would not further impede her progress.\n\nHer neighbour snorted and rolled her eyes, hanging over the door with a whicker on her grey lips. None of the stable doors were locked. The bay mare, Maud, tossed her head and pawed at the top of her door, showing a flash of fingers that were tipped with perfect, miniature hooves, rounded at the ends as if perfectly designed for hands. Or paws. The term didn't really matter when it came to an anthro equine.\n\nWhen none of her neighbours were forthcoming with an answer, Maud crossed her arms over her breasts, lips twisting, uncharacteristically for an equine, into a scowl. It was a wonder that she could make that face at all.\n\n``Why don't we see any of the boys anymore?'' She repeated, muzzle thrust stubbornly forward over the door. ``We never see them. The boys don't come anymore. Why don't we see them? Where are they?''\n\n``Hey? What was that?''\n\nA sleepy voice from further down the block wasn't really interested in what Maud had to say but commented regardless, hoping the dozy mare would shut up. She had a nap to be getting on with. Hadn't she earned it? Maud, however, was slow to catch on and swept her mane back from her neck, nostrils flared to show a hint of crimson inside, blood vessels close to the surface in her angst.\n\n``I said.'' She stomped a hoof, kicking the door with a sharp smack of hoof on wood. ``Why don't we see any of the boys anymore? They used to bring them to see us all the time. They were interesting.''\n\nThe mares sighed and otherwise paid her little mind, chewing hay contentedly. Still exercising, Goldie blew her forelock out of her eyes and grunted as her thighs ached more fiercely. She couldn't keep up her routine forever and she longed for rest. Just one more. Maud grumbled and kicked the adjoining wall, sending a tremor through the boards. That had Goldie's attention. The palomino equine stood up straight, privately thankful for the brief respite on her legs.\n\n``Will you be quiet?'' She snapped, ears pinned to her skull. ``It's late enough and we've got enough to be thinking about without you disturbing everything here!''\n\nMaud snapped, teeth clicking together as she faked a lunge at Goldie over the stable door. The palomino mare did not even flinch.\n\n``What do you care?'' She demanded. ``What with all your jumping and grumping, you cause enough fuss to keep us up all night!''\n\n``Yeah, well, maybe some of us actually care about doing a good job.''\n\nMaud snorted and clapped her paws together, making a rude gesture.\n\n``Of course, that's what it's all about.'' She said disdainfully, turning to her hay with a wandering gaze. ``Doing a good job. Making the humans happy. There's more to it than that. What do you care if you win a race or not?''\n\nGoldie ignored her, dropping to a push up on the ground, balancing on the points of her hooves. Although upper body strength was not required for racing, she felt it balanced her body more than pure leg strength. Bodyweight work did not go amiss for a young mare such as her. Seeing that she was being ignored, Maud launched a kick into the dividing wall that jolted a board loose in a shiver of dust. Goldie growled under her breath, springing to her hooves.\n\n``What is your problem? Leave me the fuck be!''\n\nThe mares `ooohed' softly, murmuring that Maud was in for it now, yeah she was really gonna get it. Goldie trembled and snorted, hot air washing over her lips as she stood stock still.\n\n``Where did you learn that word?'' Maud said with a smirk, forelock dropping slyly over one eye. ``The humans wouldn't be happy to hear you saying things like that. Doesn't look good on the telly now, does it?'' She paused, widening her visible eye as if to mimic raising an eyebrow. ``Thought you wanted to do a good job, don't you, Goldie? Wanna win lots of pretty ribbons for your owner?''\n\nGoldie's eyes hardened and she placed her back to the door. She leaned against it and the old wood groaned under her slight weight. The mare was hardly a heavyweight at five foot five inches with Maud topping her at a whopping six foot. They thought she got it from her sire.\n\n``Maybe I do. What's so bad about that?''\n\n``Oh, nothing. Just that there's nothing in it for you. You're doing it all so someone else looks good. Why can't you have some fun with your life too?''\n\nGoldie rolled her eyes and rolled her shoulders back, muscle shifting beneath her glossy coat. She'd sure as hell heard that one before! It wasn't her fault they didn't understand though, no, of course not. It couldn't be her fault. She was flawless. Her owner had said so himself.\n\n``Yeah, Goldie.'' One of her friends - or as close to friends as Goldie allowed herself to have - called down the aisle, a pretty dappled grey mare with a smile in her green eyes. ``You need to relax too, take some time for yourself. This isn't all work. You need to stop taking everything so seriously.''\n\nThe mare's eyes narrowed and she flattened her tail over her rump as her dappled friend, Bubbles, retreated into her stable and out of direct range of her harsh gaze. Ugh. What was with her? Goldie scraped her hooves over the stone floor beneath her straw bed. Bitches. What did they know? The scraping made their ears twitch infuriatingly so she stopped doing it.\n\n``Eugh.'' She flipped her paw at the prying mare. ``You're just pissed off that you haven't got any. That's why you're so fixed on the bloody boys.'' She lowered her voice to a venomous whisper that Maud could barely hear. ``Stupid, colt mad mare. Eyes in her fecking tits.''\n\nMaud snorted and slammed her paw into the wall, fingers curled into a fist.\n\n``You take that back!''\n\nIt was as weak an insult as any and Goldie didn't think it even deserved a response. She'd won, like she always did. Bubbles poked her head back out cautiously over the half-door, eyes wary behind her glasses. She wove her head back and forth as if constantly on edge and ready to dart to the back of her stable if she thought them to be getting too rowdy for her liking. A mare could not be too safe, nope.\n\n``What's got your tail in a knot?'' She chanced, pushing a careful pawful of hay into her muzzle and chewing slowly. ``Neither of you normally act like this. What's going on?''\n\nGoldie huffed and cast her a dark look while Maud showed her her back, one hoof raised in the threat of a kick.\n\n``What's it to you?'' Goldie shot back, briefly guilty for being so sharp with her friend. The jab was not completely deserved but her tongue ran away from her like a, well, racehorse out of the gate.\n\nBubbles sighed.\n\n``We're racing in the morning.'' Bubbles adjusted her glasses, clipping the arms into her mane rather than hooking over her ears like she would if she had had a human head shape. ``We should be sleeping by now. I thought you would be thinking about that a bit more, Goldie. You're so into your racing.''\n\n``Oh! Where's your sense of fun?''\n\nMaud threw her paws in the air, unaware that she was not even part of the conversation. \n\n``There's always so much talk in here about racing - don't you all just get sick of it after a time? It's boring! There's so many more things to talk about! Things to do!''\n\nGoldie snorted.\n\n``Some of us are focused on our careers. It's not our fault all you have on your mind is flagging your tail at any stud that comes along.''\n\nMaud shrieked incoherently, snaking her head out from the stall and scrabbling for the top bolt with groping fingers.\n\n``You take that back!''\n\nGoldie laughed and shook her mane off her neck, standing up as tall as her short stature allowed, a glint in her eye.\n\n``Sweetie, you do know that telling someone to take something back doesn't actually make them do it? You don't get your way. Not here. Not with me.''\n\nCursing the mare, Maud flicked her mane back over her shoulder and half-stumbled out of her stable, a wild gleam to her eyes. She tossed her head proudly and raised her fist to the mare in the next stable, bay coat shining under the buzzing overhead lighting strips, left on so they could see until it was time for `lights out'. Brushing her mane out of her eyes, Goldie let herself out of her own stable and met the mare in the centre aisle, paw raised to catch Maud's blow as it fell. The bay mare's fist smacked into a creamy one, paws tinted a softer shade to the rest of her golden coat, and Goldie snorted. Maud was weak. Weaker than her. Gripping her wrist tightly, she pinched until the larger mare cried out and buckled at the knees, eyes near bulging out of their sockets. Goldie met her watering gaze levelly.\n\n``Shut up and get back in your stable.''\n\nThe mare bit her lip and nodded, cowed by the smaller mare who was still higher up the pecking order of their little herd than she. Goldie shoved her back into her stall, leaving the door swinging open behind. It was laughably easy to push the larger equine to her knees and Maud simpered up at her pathetically, forelock covering her eyes as she hung her head down to her ample bosom. Goldie smirked and crouched, taking a breast in each paw and squeezing hard enough to make Maud flinch from her roughness. A pinch and a twist of a nipple was all the palomino needed to let the mare know exactly who was in charge. But there was no reason for her not to have her fun too.\n\nSnapping her fingers, Goldie clenched her jaw and pointed at the straw, making sure that Maud saw the gesture. They had been through the same routine time and time again. Sometimes she wondered if the bay mare simply wound her up to be put in her place again. It was not unheard of in their group. Maybe she did miss having a stallion more than she let on. Goldie smiled in approval as the mare scrabbled on to her paws and knees, tail flattened down for some modicum of modesty over her rump. It would do her no good.\n\nShe ran her fingers over the mare's larger, softer rump and rumbled her soft appreciation. It had to be said, Maud had a nice arse. Fleshy and round, it was perfect for smacking and Goldie put it to good use with a firm slap with the palm of her paw. The crack rang through the stable and the other horses shuffled, hooves knocking wood walls and stone floors as they craned to see what was going on. A few even let themselves out of their stalls, ears pricked curiously, as Maud brought her paw down again and again, each and every spank drawing a sharp inhalation from the submissive mare. Yet she would not yield and held herself quiet, biting her lip until it bled. She would not cry out.\n\nEnd preview.\n\nThank you for reading! This is a preview for a collection of erotic short stories and is available to purchase worldwide via Smashwords and distributors!\n\nSmashwords: HYPERLINK \"https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891\" https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891 \n\nThe Filly Maker\n\nBound and Dominated by a Futa Mare\n\n``Ah, there's my little breeding mare. Did you miss me?''\n\nJynoria smirked as she stepped into the stable, not bothering to kick the door closed behind her. There was no one out in the secluded barn besides her anyway. Well, her and the mare that had so willingly followed her back to her private yard. She flicked her chestnut mane back over her shoulders, letting it spill down her back with still a hint of dampness around the tips as she stood dressed casually in a fitted, buttoned blouse and a pair of navy jodhpurs. Her hooves, of course, were left bare, hardened from work on the yard.\n\nThe four-legged equines shifted and nickered in their own stables, pulling lazily at their hay nets as they went about their evening business, which was very little at all after a hard day of play and training. Well kept and swept by her grooms and stable hands, the barn was in impeccable condition, each stable housing a different occupant from all breeds and trots of life. The arena had been harrowed and, after showering and oiling her mane and tail, Jynoria had made her way back down to the yard to see just how her newest breeding `filly' was doing.\n\nThe bound mare groaned and arched her back, tied to a phantom mare, otherwise known as a breeding stand for stallions at stud. It was old with a rip in the side where the stuffing was puffing out in a big clump, but it still did its job well enough, the leather straps keeping the mare's paws and hooves neatly in place, tail wrapped up in a loop and tied back on itself. Her palomino coat glowed in the low light even though it was streaked through with sweat. Jynoria smirked and ran her paw down the mare's back, something tightening within her jodhpurs.\n\nBreeding fillies always did look better when in nothing but their bare coats. But she had not given her the best gear. The leather binding her wrists down and the pad beneath her chin, holding her head and neck at what was supposed to be the most comfortable angle, was scuffed and worn, though not insufficient to hold her willing victim hostage. She had far better gear available back up at the house and in the secret, locked tack room that no one but her had access too.\n\nJynoria smirked and fingered the blindfold covering the mare's eyes, a bit gag rendering words mute with the bridle tight around her nose. Those two were used and second hand. Hell, she hadn't even thought it worthwhile to wipe off the last stallion's spit before jamming it into the new filly's mouth. She didn't waste her resources on mares that had not yet proven themselves. Maybe she'd get the poured latex bondage furniture later. If she was a good girl, that was.\n\n``How'd you enjoy this little toy then, hm?''\n\nShe didn't expect a reply, giving the mare's buttocks a slap and a squeeze just to see her judder. Her bare folds were stretched lewdly wide with a dildo shaped in the form of a stallion's shaft, a vibrator taped to it on a random setting. From her the mare's sex glistened with her juices, she'd clearly had a lot of fun during the course of the day, even if she hadn't had much choice in the matter.\n\n``Such a wanton little slut... No wonder you wandered into my stables and begged me to take you,'' Jynoria mocked, walking around her in a circle as the need in the pit of her stomach swelled. ``You thought I'd pair you up with one of my stallion studs, didn't you? Get a nice, strapping lad to take you like you think you deserve to be taken. But tonight you're going to learn how much more a mare can deliver.''\n\nGrasping the end of the dildo, Jynoria spat and pulled it without ceremony from the poor filly's abused cunt. She would have expected her to be relieved that the pressure was gone, but the mare only groaned and tried to push back, belly pressing into the stand, as her pussy was left lewdly gaping. Chuckling under her breath, Jynoria ran a finger around her folds, letting a droplet of moisture collect at her fingertip, which she smeared in a slow circle around the filly's clit. She mouthed the bit and moaned softly, ears flopped out to the sides.\n\n``My, my...'' Jynoria taunted. ``So this is why you need a mistress? Even a cock this size can't please you, so what good would your standard anthro stud do you?''\n\nSlapping the mare's arse, Jynoria giggled and unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a black, lace bra that cupped and framed her small breasts perfectly. She left it hanging loosely over her shoulders, the fingers of one paw tucked into the front of her jodhpurs, toying with the button.\n\nNot yet. She wouldn't reveal that quite yet.\n\nPiteously, the tightly restrained mare whinnied, nostrils quivering as her body was groped and handled like nothing more than a piece of meat, yet there was nothing she could do about it. Breathing harshly through her nostrils, she twisted her head back and forth to follow the dominant mare's movements around her, unable to clamp her tail down even if she'd wanted to. Jynoria pushed two fingers crudely into her pussy, pushing them apart as if to show her just how much she'd been stretched after the long hours with the dildo rammed into her cunt.\n\n``You'll need something far larger than this toy to get you filled as you really need, my little brood mare...''\n\nEnd preview.\n\nThank you for reading! This is a preview for a collection of erotic short stories and is available to purchase worldwide via Smashwords and distributors!\n\nSmashwords: HYPERLINK \"https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891\" https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891 \n\nThe Volunteer Broodmare\n\nTo be Bound and Seeded\n\nMenna flicked her tail. Standing at the painted white fence, she gripped the top plank tightly with two paws, fingers curled around the wood. The blue roan mare looked from left to right, scanning the expanse of the field that she had been left in. Her paws boasted a leather cuff around each, buckles tucked away from her fingers, both cuffs linked together with a short length of chain. It allowed her some freedom but not the freedom she had once flaunted, unaware of her place in life. She lowered her darker head to stare at her chest, bare nipples perky in the light breeze. She could not remember the last time she had been naked outside. Stroking the natural lines in the wood, she snorted, ears slanting to the sides in relaxation. Touching something solid was comforting, even when she knew what was to come.\n\nIt was not as if what was to happen that day was something that she had not signed up for. Thirteen months ago - unlucky for some - she had signed up to be a broodmare at Arian's breeding farm, Prancing Ponies, and waited. And waited. And waited. Stuck in a tedious day job inputting data into spreadsheet after spreadsheet, she leapt at the opportunity to escape for nine months, give or take, the amount of time it took an anthro to birth under normal circumstances. Of course, being bred by a feral, she could take up to eleven months to foal, depending on how the young equine grew within her womb. It was a complicated process that she did not entirely understand, if she was honest.\n\nThe day job was history, resignation given without tears. Now she had a contract to cover her from the time of mating with a feral to the time when she would birth a foal. Her foal. According to her statistics and genetic tests, it was probable that she would birth a two-legged anthro foal with stellar genetics, born with intelligence and strength that would be comparable only to those born through the same illicit tryst. Mares of old had spread their legs for feral equines, taking their strength to further their line, but it was something that had become almost taboo amongst the two-leggers called `furries'. She would do anything for a foal but she wanted him (hoping for a colt) to be the biggest and the strongest, the smartest and the sharpest, as he grew. The catch in the deal was that she would have to subject herself to be mounted by a four-legged equine in all his glory.\n\nMenna shivered, though not from cold. She was far from a virgin yet had no idea how it would feel to take a feral horse's thicker length along with the daunting medial ring. Professionals said that mare bodies were built for it, the incredible stretch, but she was not so sure now that the day had come to discover the truth. They said her pussy would stretch to accommodate the girth and length and that it was in her heritage and history. Their words held little comfort for her in the moment. Shifting on her hooves, Menna absentmindedly swatted away a fly that landed upon her rump, dark hairs tickling her bare sex as her tail fell back in a soft waterfall over her buttocks and legs.\n\n``Menna!''\n\nA voice rang out across the field and she turned to face the caller, a spotted unicorn mare. Shorter than the blue roan, the dark coloured unicorn that boasted white rosettes - like those of a king cheetah, only in white instead - trotted up to the field gate with a smile on her face. Tapping the latch out of place, Arian called again, voice ringing out as her leonine tail swished, fine hair flying in a smooth, beautiful arc. From time to time, Menna wondered how on earth she managed to keep that volume of hair clean. She had had enough trouble with her mane and tail before the control of her hair had fallen into other paws. Now the stable hands groomed her, or sometimes the unicorn, Arian. Flashing a set of perfect teeth in a wide grin, Arian beckoned to her, pursing her lips in a whistle as if to call an animal. Menna shook her head. That mare was always smiling. It was annoyingly contagious.\n\nThe unicorn slipped into the field as Menna changed gait into a gentle lope, ears pricked. Was it time?\n\n``There you go, good girl,'' Arian crooned, slipping the head collar over Menna's nose and flipping the long strap behind her ears. ``Did you enjoy your run today?''\n\nMenna pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She was not supposed to answer. Part of the breeding `experience' was that the anthros who signed up were treated like animals, even if they were treated exceptionally well. Arian clucked to her, leading her from the field and closing the gate behind them. She did not need to explain where they were going to Arian and chatted as if to a normal, four-legged equine on her farm, needing no answer to continue the conversation.\n\n``Hope you got nice and tired out, girl, as today's your day!'' Arian chirped, two paws holding the lead rope in front of her body.\n\nToday was indeed the day that Menna craved and dreaded. How would it go? Would she be hurt? Arian had assured her upon signing the contract that the stallions were well trained in mating with anthros - to the point that she had even joked and winked and implied that she would part her legs for one herself. The farm even had some mares for male anthros that wanted to breed a four-legged foal, something for stable stock, despite that act becoming increasingly taboo. Menna shuddered. Imagine training your own young. Teaching him or her to wear a head collar, backing them in the school and showing them how to respond to the leg aids, all the while knowing that your own flesh and blood was under your paws. Thankfully the mother's status as either anthro or feral determined the bearing of the foal, which was exactly what Arian wanted. She would not have signed up otherwise.\n\nNipping her lips, Menna pulled curiously at the lead rope. They were not heading towards the stable block, as she had originally assumed. Instead, they looped behind the barn, full of nickering voices, and towards the top strip of field at the head of the property. Arian hummed as she walked with a long, relaxed stride, mane bouncing over her shoulders. Clad simply in black jodhpurs and a light blue top with thin straps, she was well dressed for the spring weather, finding it too warm to work if she wore anything more. Yard work was hard work and she hated to get too sweaty. Menna only knew this because she had chattered about it during grooming one time, talking enough for the both of them.\n\nMenna balked as they approached the field, drawing the lead rope taut. The whole field and entrance-way carried the scent of stallion, thick and potent in the air. It clung to the gate and clumps of brown hair betrayed where the stallion had been groomed, losing his winter coat as the weather grew warmer by the day. Anxious, the mare took a step back, shaking her head. She was not ready, she could not do it. The unicorn would just have to take her back to the stable until she was mentally prepared. Arian clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth encouragingly.\n\n``Don't worry, he's not there yet.''\n\nArian patted her lower back reassuringly, fingers lingering a second longer than strictly necessary.\n\n``We'll get him for you soon, once we have you all set up.''\n\nMenna was not sure if she liked the sound of that either. But she had no choice in the matter: she had signed the contract.\n\nSwallowing her nerves, she followed Arian into the field, gate bumping gently against the frame after they passed. In a good, clear space stood something similar to a saddle rack, suitable for three or more saddles to sit in a row if they all faces the same direction, which was topped with a plump, dark green pad. The top of the rack formed an upside down `V', the point of which was softened by the thick padding. Menna had an inkling that she would soon be thankful for the padding, if she was to rest upon it in any way, shape or form. Several separate ropes lay on both sides of the device, neatly coiled and tied off ready for use.\n\nArian walked up to the mating device, to name it simply, and unclipped the lead rope from Menna's red head collar, slinging it back over her shoulder. To follow up, she fished a key from her pocket and unlocked Menna's cuffs in turn, each unlocking with a light click that was music to her ears. She took a sly moment to stretch her arms above her head with her paws free of cuffs and chain, unaware of how Arian looked her body up and down, skin pulling taut over muscle and bone. The little mare was fit. Arian would not mind some private time alone with her after she had been bred. The allowance was written into contract and lesbian fun was something that Menna had expressed a curiosity in when filling out her initial forms. She mused, tapping a finger against her jaw, bone hard under her fingertip.\n\nPrivy to none of this, the roan equine swung her arms back down to her sides and eyed the pad with trepidation, resisting the urge to flee. That would not end well for her - there was more leeway to punish unruly `ponies' than feral horses. Yet another stipulation of the contract. Menna brushed her mane off the back of her neck and gulped, wondering what a punishment would be like. It was not something she wanted to experience, if she had any say in the matter. Arian remained frustratingly silent. Lifting and lowering one hoof, Menna flicked her ears and waited on further instructions.\n\n``Up you get,'' Arian snapped out of her daze with a bright smile, seeming to reappear from a daydream or similar.\n\nThe unicorn patted the breeding aid, making her intentions quite clear. Menna's lips parted to ask a question and clamped shut a second later. No, she was not to talk unless it was a dire situation, one hundred and ten percent necessary. She knew this. She could convey her question through other means. Feeling herself quite silly, the horse tilted her head to the left, ears flopping in the same direction, blinking in the most obvious expression of confusion she could muster. Arian nodded in approval.\n\n``This is where you will be bred,'' she explained simply. ``You'll be quite secure on this and positioned at the correct height for Leon to mount you. His presence should set off your natural response of arousal, since we have fed you hormones for the last month. They've got quite a spark to them. Your response, once the stallion is here, could be said to be similar to that of an artificial heat.''\n\nThe explanation soothed Menna's frazzled mind and she bobbed her muzzle once in understanding. She clambered awkwardly on to the pad, nerves leaping in her stomach like a horde of frogs. Balanced precariously on one paw and one knee, she blushed and looked to Arian for direction, muscles aching from supporting herself in such an unbalanced way. She should have thought that action through beforehand.\n\n``Rest on your stomach, honey.''\n\nThankful for the guidance, Menna allowed her arms and legs to fall either side of the device, landing on her front with a quiet `oof' as her landing was more forceful than intended. The mare could not have it all ways, there was bound to be some clumsiness in the action. Sex was always like that.\n\n``Good girl...''\n\nEnd preview.\n\nThank you for reading! This is a preview for a collection of erotic short stories and is available to purchase worldwide via Smashwords and distributors!\n\nSmashwords: HYPERLINK \"https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891\" https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891 \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\nUsed by the stallion: a stable lad gets up close and personal with their prize equine\n\nKian is used to working at the stable yard, but, being on the younger side of the equine world, he doesn?t always have the voice of authority that he needs. Other stable hands don?t always find him an easy sort to listen to, thinking he lacks the years to back up his words. But the horses make the job worth it and Kian wouldn?t trade a moment of being in their magnificent presence. However, life on a stable yard comes with its challenges, some of them more delicate than others when working with stallions and flirting mares... It doesn?t make his job any easier when a mare is pranced before the nose of an eager stud either, a treat he is not yet allowed.\n\nAnd when Silver, the most expensive stallion at stud on the yard, is too worked up to settle in his stall, just what is Kian to do? Let the owners come back to find their prize stud frothing and foaming? Of course not: Kian has more than one trick up his sleeve to calm the stallion...\n\nMares Seeking Stallions: Cuckolding the Beta Males\n\nMares are sexy and lustful, well known for often needing far more than their partners are able to provide. And that is just why these mares are going after what they need and desire, studs worthy of the name and so very far about the prowess of their partners. They need more and so why shouldn?t they get it, I ask you? It?s not their fault that their partners are inadequate!\n\nCuckolding is a nuance of its own but they don?t care whether or not their partners find out, as long as they come out of each and every intimate moment with just what they need and, often, a swollen belly and so much more...\n\nA collection of four snippet stories and one short story focusing on anthro mares and their cuckolding exploits - whether their partners find out or not!\n\nA Stallion's Secret Love: Lust between Studs\n\nI?ve been at the stable yard for a long time, a dappled grey stallion that turns all the heads, and I?ve seen many horses come and go but never before quite one like Firefly. The chestnut stallion is intact, like me, and with a personality that has me watching from the very first moment he sets hoof out in the field, waiting to see just what he will do. He?s powerful and strong and sweetly prideful, primed as a jumper and rippling with muscle that lifts him to the heavens and beyond. I can?t jump like him but I?d give my heart for any jump if he could just be by my side.\n\nBut things are about to change as our nightly visits take on a warmer, sweeter tone than I could have ever have imagined before, the bodies of two stallions coming together in blissful passion. And I wouldn?t change my time with Firefly for the world.\n\nHe?s the only one I want to be with.\n\nStallion at Stud: Breeding My Mare\n\nThere is a height of pride and pleasure to being a breeding stud - I mean, who wouldn?t want to be me? A stunning, studly, hunky stallion that all the mares want? Of course, that?s only when they?re in season, they tend to be a bit moody, otherwise but I?m not going to complain when I get my fill of them either way. And I only get the ones that are hot and ready for him, their marehoods winking and ready for my shaft.\n\nThere?s nothing like breeding and a stallion should always have his needs satisfied...\n\nNote: this story is told from the stallion?s point of view.\n\nBred by a Stallion: The Centaur's Debasement\n\nMy name is Akira and, well, I didn?t think anything would come of going out hunting on a quiet day, taking my time and working my way through some things that have been preying on my mind. I need time and space for myself - especially when it?s mating season for a centaur. Like horses, our seasons come on a few weekly cycle during the warmer months of the year, but there are few medications available to us these days to control them.\n\nThat can, sometimes, be a problem.\n\nI didn?t expect things to turn dark. I didn?t expect my season to get the better of me, heat coursing through my body, flagging my tail. I didn?t expect to want it so much. And I most certainly didn?t expect to get caught up, twisting in the undergrowth, with a herd of horses approaching, scenting me out softly.\n\nI didn?t expect to like it.\n\nThis is what happened when the stallions found me.\n\n PAGE \\* MERGEFORMAT 1 \n\n","writing_bbcode_parsed":"Kinky Hooves
A collection of equine anthro erotica
Thank you for reading! This is a preview for a collection of erotic short stories and is available to purchase worldwide via Smashwords and distributors!
Smashwords: HYPERLINK "https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891" https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1002891
Contents
HYPERLINK \\l "barnbasicbitches" Barn Basic Bitches
HYPERLINK \\l "thefillymaker" The Filly Maker
HYPERLINK \\l "slaveforsale" Slave for Sale
HYPERLINK \\l "thevolunteerbroodmare" The Volunteer Broodmare
HYPERLINK \\l "bridled" Bridled
HYPERLINK \\l "thehorsewife" The Horsewife
HYPERLINK \\l "otherstories" Other stories by this author
HYPERLINK \\l "bonus1" Bonus story!
HYPERLINK \\l "bonus2" Bonus story two!
Barn Basic Bitches
As genetic manipulation looked towards more profitable venues than resurrecting old species for the sake of humanity - it was humanity, after all, who had rendered them extinct - it was no surprise that the eyes of investors turned to horse racing. There were many that claimed that a scientific field should work towards a goal to benefit mankind, although it was the investors that had the final say in the matter. Horse racing was a goldmine and one to exploited - for the sake of science, of course, nothing more than that. If they profited from the endeavour of making horses quicker and with higher stamina, as a very basic premise, they would then be able to put the money towards more wholesome projects, such as curing terminal diseases. It was just that simple.
And what could be more interesting and scientific than horses that looked a little less...horse-like?
The result of their experiments, splicing genes in clinical conditions, proved to be a success indeed. Equines with the body structure of humans, walking on two legs with all the swishing tails and bright eyes of their four-legged brethren. In all natural equine colours and beyond, their genes could be altered as they were bred to produce whatever colouration was required. It was only the strength and speed on the racetrack that could not be determined as they bred and foaled, each foal different to the last. They had personalities that had not before been expected. And, when it came to the racecourse, they had to have a certain spirit to lend fire to their hooves with no rider to gee them on.
They were far from the horses the world was used to, locked up in stables and shipped from pillar to post without a second thought. Sure, they could take and walked on two feet, or hooves, like a human being but they had no rights and were certainly not human in themselves. As good as livestock, they could be bought and sold without any element of slavery coming into question, unless one wanted to go down the road of thinking that the cows grazing fields between milking sessions for dairy farmers were also slaves to the whims of humans.
No, that would be a step too far.
The mares leaned over the half doors of their stables, ears twitching and tails flicking from side to side. An air of calm encompassed the stable as the afternoon drifted into dusk, moths rising from the long grass of their fields - for exercise rather than grazing - and dandelions swaying gently in the evening breeze. The racing yard was off the beaten track in the Welsh mountains. It was a long hike to most race meets, the owner had found that the two-legged equines fared better when kept further away from most humans. They didn't quite understand one another. Maybe one day they would.
Housed in a separate barn to the stallions, who lived in an outdoor block of stables, the girls chattered quietly amongst themselves, stretching out sore muscles from the day. One mare, a glowing palomino, trotted on the spot in her stable, sinking into a deep squat every thirty seconds to power upwards in a fluid, explosive movement, repeating the motion as sweat darkened the coat behind her ears and down the arch of her neck. Goldie was one of the quickest out of the gate when they put her to the test on the track. Her heart pounded and she saw the crowds cheering her on in her mind's eye. To be the best, one had to train. And she would train and train and train until she dropped into her straw bed from sheer, satisfied exhaustion.
None of them wore any clothes and Goldie small breasts bounced uncomfortably as she jumped, though she tried to ignore the twinge. If she could improve herself, it was worth it. Perhaps she would have to ask her owner for a stable bra or training bra so that discomfort would not further impede her progress.
Her neighbour snorted and rolled her eyes, hanging over the door with a whicker on her grey lips. None of the stable doors were locked. The bay mare, Maud, tossed her head and pawed at the top of her door, showing a flash of fingers that were tipped with perfect, miniature hooves, rounded at the ends as if perfectly designed for hands. Or paws. The term didn't really matter when it came to an anthro equine.
When none of her neighbours were forthcoming with an answer, Maud crossed her arms over her breasts, lips twisting, uncharacteristically for an equine, into a scowl. It was a wonder that she could make that face at all.
``Why don't we see any of the boys anymore?'' She repeated, muzzle thrust stubbornly forward over the door. ``We never see them. The boys don't come anymore. Why don't we see them? Where are they?''
``Hey? What was that?''
A sleepy voice from further down the block wasn't really interested in what Maud had to say but commented regardless, hoping the dozy mare would shut up. She had a nap to be getting on with. Hadn't she earned it? Maud, however, was slow to catch on and swept her mane back from her neck, nostrils flared to show a hint of crimson inside, blood vessels close to the surface in her angst.
``I said.'' She stomped a hoof, kicking the door with a sharp smack of hoof on wood. ``Why don't we see any of the boys anymore? They used to bring them to see us all the time. They were interesting.''
The mares sighed and otherwise paid her little mind, chewing hay contentedly. Still exercising, Goldie blew her forelock out of her eyes and grunted as her thighs ached more fiercely. She couldn't keep up her routine forever and she longed for rest. Just one more. Maud grumbled and kicked the adjoining wall, sending a tremor through the boards. That had Goldie's attention. The palomino equine stood up straight, privately thankful for the brief respite on her legs.
``Will you be quiet?'' She snapped, ears pinned to her skull. ``It's late enough and we've got enough to be thinking about without you disturbing everything here!''
Maud snapped, teeth clicking together as she faked a lunge at Goldie over the stable door. The palomino mare did not even flinch.
``What do you care?'' She demanded. ``What with all your jumping and grumping, you cause enough fuss to keep us up all night!''
``Yeah, well, maybe some of us actually care about doing a good job.''
Maud snorted and clapped her paws together, making a rude gesture.
``Of course, that's what it's all about.'' She said disdainfully, turning to her hay with a wandering gaze. ``Doing a good job. Making the humans happy. There's more to it than that. What do you care if you win a race or not?''
Goldie ignored her, dropping to a push up on the ground, balancing on the points of her hooves. Although upper body strength was not required for racing, she felt it balanced her body more than pure leg strength. Bodyweight work did not go amiss for a young mare such as her. Seeing that she was being ignored, Maud launched a kick into the dividing wall that jolted a board loose in a shiver of dust. Goldie growled under her breath, springing to her hooves.
``What is your problem? Leave me the fuck be!''
The mares `ooohed' softly, murmuring that Maud was in for it now, yeah she was really gonna get it. Goldie trembled and snorted, hot air washing over her lips as she stood stock still.
``Where did you learn that word?'' Maud said with a smirk, forelock dropping slyly over one eye. ``The humans wouldn't be happy to hear you saying things like that. Doesn't look good on the telly now, does it?'' She paused, widening her visible eye as if to mimic raising an eyebrow. ``Thought you wanted to do a good job, don't you, Goldie? Wanna win lots of pretty ribbons for your owner?''
Goldie's eyes hardened and she placed her back to the door. She leaned against it and the old wood groaned under her slight weight. The mare was hardly a heavyweight at five foot five inches with Maud topping her at a whopping six foot. They thought she got it from her sire.
``Maybe I do. What's so bad about that?''
``Oh, nothing. Just that there's nothing in it for you. You're doing it all so someone else looks good. Why can't you have some fun with your life too?''
Goldie rolled her eyes and rolled her shoulders back, muscle shifting beneath her glossy coat. She'd sure as hell heard that one before! It wasn't her fault they didn't understand though, no, of course not. It couldn't be her fault. She was flawless. Her owner had said so himself.
``Yeah, Goldie.'' One of her friends - or as close to friends as Goldie allowed herself to have - called down the aisle, a pretty dappled grey mare with a smile in her green eyes. ``You need to relax too, take some time for yourself. This isn't all work. You need to stop taking everything so seriously.''
The mare's eyes narrowed and she flattened her tail over her rump as her dappled friend, Bubbles, retreated into her stable and out of direct range of her harsh gaze. Ugh. What was with her? Goldie scraped her hooves over the stone floor beneath her straw bed. Bitches. What did they know? The scraping made their ears twitch infuriatingly so she stopped doing it.
``Eugh.'' She flipped her paw at the prying mare. ``You're just pissed off that you haven't got any. That's why you're so fixed on the bloody boys.'' She lowered her voice to a venomous whisper that Maud could barely hear. ``Stupid, colt mad mare. Eyes in her fecking tits.''
Maud snorted and slammed her paw into the wall, fingers curled into a fist.
``You take that back!''
It was as weak an insult as any and Goldie didn't think it even deserved a response. She'd won, like she always did. Bubbles poked her head back out cautiously over the half-door, eyes wary behind her glasses. She wove her head back and forth as if constantly on edge and ready to dart to the back of her stable if she thought them to be getting too rowdy for her liking. A mare could not be too safe, nope.
``What's got your tail in a knot?'' She chanced, pushing a careful pawful of hay into her muzzle and chewing slowly. ``Neither of you normally act like this. What's going on?''
Goldie huffed and cast her a dark look while Maud showed her her back, one hoof raised in the threat of a kick.
``What's it to you?'' Goldie shot back, briefly guilty for being so sharp with her friend. The jab was not completely deserved but her tongue ran away from her like a, well, racehorse out of the gate.
Bubbles sighed.
``We're racing in the morning.'' Bubbles adjusted her glasses, clipping the arms into her mane rather than hooking over her ears like she would if she had had a human head shape. ``We should be sleeping by now. I thought you would be thinking about that a bit more, Goldie. You're so into your racing.''
``Oh! Where's your sense of fun?''
Maud threw her paws in the air, unaware that she was not even part of the conversation.
``There's always so much talk in here about racing - don't you all just get sick of it after a time? It's boring! There's so many more things to talk about! Things to do!''
Goldie snorted.
``Some of us are focused on our careers. It's not our fault all you have on your mind is flagging your tail at any stud that comes along.''
Maud shrieked incoherently, snaking her head out from the stall and scrabbling for the top bolt with groping fingers.
``You take that back!''
Goldie laughed and shook her mane off her neck, standing up as tall as her short stature allowed, a glint in her eye.
``Sweetie, you do know that telling someone to take something back doesn't actually make them do it? You don't get your way. Not here. Not with me.''
Cursing the mare, Maud flicked her mane back over her shoulder and half-stumbled out of her stable, a wild gleam to her eyes. She tossed her head proudly and raised her fist to the mare in the next stable, bay coat shining under the buzzing overhead lighting strips, left on so they could see until it was time for `lights out'. Brushing her mane out of her eyes, Goldie let herself out of her own stable and met the mare in the centre aisle, paw raised to catch Maud's blow as it fell. The bay mare's fist smacked into a creamy one, paws tinted a softer shade to the rest of her golden coat, and Goldie snorted. Maud was weak. Weaker than her. Gripping her wrist tightly, she pinched until the larger mare cried out and buckled at the knees, eyes near bulging out of their sockets. Goldie met her watering gaze levelly.
``Shut up and get back in your stable.''
The mare bit her lip and nodded, cowed by the smaller mare who was still higher up the pecking order of their little herd than she. Goldie shoved her back into her stall, leaving the door swinging open behind. It was laughably easy to push the larger equine to her knees and Maud simpered up at her pathetically, forelock covering her eyes as she hung her head down to her ample bosom. Goldie smirked and crouched, taking a breast in each paw and squeezing hard enough to make Maud flinch from her roughness. A pinch and a twist of a nipple was all the palomino needed to let the mare know exactly who was in charge. But there was no reason for her not to have her fun too.
Snapping her fingers, Goldie clenched her jaw and pointed at the straw, making sure that Maud saw the gesture. They had been through the same routine time and time again. Sometimes she wondered if the bay mare simply wound her up to be put in her place again. It was not unheard of in their group. Maybe she did miss having a stallion more than she let on. Goldie smiled in approval as the mare scrabbled on to her paws and knees, tail flattened down for some modicum of modesty over her rump. It would do her no good.
She ran her fingers over the mare's larger, softer rump and rumbled her soft appreciation. It had to be said, Maud had a nice arse. Fleshy and round, it was perfect for smacking and Goldie put it to good use with a firm slap with the palm of her paw. The crack rang through the stable and the other horses shuffled, hooves knocking wood walls and stone floors as they craned to see what was going on. A few even let themselves out of their stalls, ears pricked curiously, as Maud brought her paw down again and again, each and every spank drawing a sharp inhalation from the submissive mare. Yet she would not yield and held herself quiet, biting her lip until it bled. She would not cry out.
End preview.
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The Filly Maker
Bound and Dominated by a Futa Mare
``Ah, there's my little breeding mare. Did you miss me?''
Jynoria smirked as she stepped into the stable, not bothering to kick the door closed behind her. There was no one out in the secluded barn besides her anyway. Well, her and the mare that had so willingly followed her back to her private yard. She flicked her chestnut mane back over her shoulders, letting it spill down her back with still a hint of dampness around the tips as she stood dressed casually in a fitted, buttoned blouse and a pair of navy jodhpurs. Her hooves, of course, were left bare, hardened from work on the yard.
The four-legged equines shifted and nickered in their own stables, pulling lazily at their hay nets as they went about their evening business, which was very little at all after a hard day of play and training. Well kept and swept by her grooms and stable hands, the barn was in impeccable condition, each stable housing a different occupant from all breeds and trots of life. The arena had been harrowed and, after showering and oiling her mane and tail, Jynoria had made her way back down to the yard to see just how her newest breeding `filly' was doing.
The bound mare groaned and arched her back, tied to a phantom mare, otherwise known as a breeding stand for stallions at stud. It was old with a rip in the side where the stuffing was puffing out in a big clump, but it still did its job well enough, the leather straps keeping the mare's paws and hooves neatly in place, tail wrapped up in a loop and tied back on itself. Her palomino coat glowed in the low light even though it was streaked through with sweat. Jynoria smirked and ran her paw down the mare's back, something tightening within her jodhpurs.
Breeding fillies always did look better when in nothing but their bare coats. But she had not given her the best gear. The leather binding her wrists down and the pad beneath her chin, holding her head and neck at what was supposed to be the most comfortable angle, was scuffed and worn, though not insufficient to hold her willing victim hostage. She had far better gear available back up at the house and in the secret, locked tack room that no one but her had access too.
Jynoria smirked and fingered the blindfold covering the mare's eyes, a bit gag rendering words mute with the bridle tight around her nose. Those two were used and second hand. Hell, she hadn't even thought it worthwhile to wipe off the last stallion's spit before jamming it into the new filly's mouth. She didn't waste her resources on mares that had not yet proven themselves. Maybe she'd get the poured latex bondage furniture later. If she was a good girl, that was.
``How'd you enjoy this little toy then, hm?''
She didn't expect a reply, giving the mare's buttocks a slap and a squeeze just to see her judder. Her bare folds were stretched lewdly wide with a dildo shaped in the form of a stallion's shaft, a vibrator taped to it on a random setting. From her the mare's sex glistened with her juices, she'd clearly had a lot of fun during the course of the day, even if she hadn't had much choice in the matter.
``Such a wanton little slut... No wonder you wandered into my stables and begged me to take you,'' Jynoria mocked, walking around her in a circle as the need in the pit of her stomach swelled. ``You thought I'd pair you up with one of my stallion studs, didn't you? Get a nice, strapping lad to take you like you think you deserve to be taken. But tonight you're going to learn how much more a mare can deliver.''
Grasping the end of the dildo, Jynoria spat and pulled it without ceremony from the poor filly's abused cunt. She would have expected her to be relieved that the pressure was gone, but the mare only groaned and tried to push back, belly pressing into the stand, as her pussy was left lewdly gaping. Chuckling under her breath, Jynoria ran a finger around her folds, letting a droplet of moisture collect at her fingertip, which she smeared in a slow circle around the filly's clit. She mouthed the bit and moaned softly, ears flopped out to the sides.
``My, my...'' Jynoria taunted. ``So this is why you need a mistress? Even a cock this size can't please you, so what good would your standard anthro stud do you?''
Slapping the mare's arse, Jynoria giggled and unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a black, lace bra that cupped and framed her small breasts perfectly. She left it hanging loosely over her shoulders, the fingers of one paw tucked into the front of her jodhpurs, toying with the button.
Not yet. She wouldn't reveal that quite yet.
Piteously, the tightly restrained mare whinnied, nostrils quivering as her body was groped and handled like nothing more than a piece of meat, yet there was nothing she could do about it. Breathing harshly through her nostrils, she twisted her head back and forth to follow the dominant mare's movements around her, unable to clamp her tail down even if she'd wanted to. Jynoria pushed two fingers crudely into her pussy, pushing them apart as if to show her just how much she'd been stretched after the long hours with the dildo rammed into her cunt.
``You'll need something far larger than this toy to get you filled as you really need, my little brood mare...''
End preview.
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The Volunteer Broodmare
To be Bound and Seeded
Menna flicked her tail. Standing at the painted white fence, she gripped the top plank tightly with two paws, fingers curled around the wood. The blue roan mare looked from left to right, scanning the expanse of the field that she had been left in. Her paws boasted a leather cuff around each, buckles tucked away from her fingers, both cuffs linked together with a short length of chain. It allowed her some freedom but not the freedom she had once flaunted, unaware of her place in life. She lowered her darker head to stare at her chest, bare nipples perky in the light breeze. She could not remember the last time she had been naked outside. Stroking the natural lines in the wood, she snorted, ears slanting to the sides in relaxation. Touching something solid was comforting, even when she knew what was to come.
It was not as if what was to happen that day was something that she had not signed up for. Thirteen months ago - unlucky for some - she had signed up to be a broodmare at Arian's breeding farm, Prancing Ponies, and waited. And waited. And waited. Stuck in a tedious day job inputting data into spreadsheet after spreadsheet, she leapt at the opportunity to escape for nine months, give or take, the amount of time it took an anthro to birth under normal circumstances. Of course, being bred by a feral, she could take up to eleven months to foal, depending on how the young equine grew within her womb. It was a complicated process that she did not entirely understand, if she was honest.
The day job was history, resignation given without tears. Now she had a contract to cover her from the time of mating with a feral to the time when she would birth a foal. Her foal. According to her statistics and genetic tests, it was probable that she would birth a two-legged anthro foal with stellar genetics, born with intelligence and strength that would be comparable only to those born through the same illicit tryst. Mares of old had spread their legs for feral equines, taking their strength to further their line, but it was something that had become almost taboo amongst the two-leggers called `furries'. She would do anything for a foal but she wanted him (hoping for a colt) to be the biggest and the strongest, the smartest and the sharpest, as he grew. The catch in the deal was that she would have to subject herself to be mounted by a four-legged equine in all his glory.
Menna shivered, though not from cold. She was far from a virgin yet had no idea how it would feel to take a feral horse's thicker length along with the daunting medial ring. Professionals said that mare bodies were built for it, the incredible stretch, but she was not so sure now that the day had come to discover the truth. They said her pussy would stretch to accommodate the girth and length and that it was in her heritage and history. Their words held little comfort for her in the moment. Shifting on her hooves, Menna absentmindedly swatted away a fly that landed upon her rump, dark hairs tickling her bare sex as her tail fell back in a soft waterfall over her buttocks and legs.
``Menna!''
A voice rang out across the field and she turned to face the caller, a spotted unicorn mare. Shorter than the blue roan, the dark coloured unicorn that boasted white rosettes - like those of a king cheetah, only in white instead - trotted up to the field gate with a smile on her face. Tapping the latch out of place, Arian called again, voice ringing out as her leonine tail swished, fine hair flying in a smooth, beautiful arc. From time to time, Menna wondered how on earth she managed to keep that volume of hair clean. She had had enough trouble with her mane and tail before the control of her hair had fallen into other paws. Now the stable hands groomed her, or sometimes the unicorn, Arian. Flashing a set of perfect teeth in a wide grin, Arian beckoned to her, pursing her lips in a whistle as if to call an animal. Menna shook her head. That mare was always smiling. It was annoyingly contagious.
The unicorn slipped into the field as Menna changed gait into a gentle lope, ears pricked. Was it time?
``There you go, good girl,'' Arian crooned, slipping the head collar over Menna's nose and flipping the long strap behind her ears. ``Did you enjoy your run today?''
Menna pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She was not supposed to answer. Part of the breeding `experience' was that the anthros who signed up were treated like animals, even if they were treated exceptionally well. Arian clucked to her, leading her from the field and closing the gate behind them. She did not need to explain where they were going to Arian and chatted as if to a normal, four-legged equine on her farm, needing no answer to continue the conversation.
``Hope you got nice and tired out, girl, as today's your day!'' Arian chirped, two paws holding the lead rope in front of her body.
Today was indeed the day that Menna craved and dreaded. How would it go? Would she be hurt? Arian had assured her upon signing the contract that the stallions were well trained in mating with anthros - to the point that she had even joked and winked and implied that she would part her legs for one herself. The farm even had some mares for male anthros that wanted to breed a four-legged foal, something for stable stock, despite that act becoming increasingly taboo. Menna shuddered. Imagine training your own young. Teaching him or her to wear a head collar, backing them in the school and showing them how to respond to the leg aids, all the while knowing that your own flesh and blood was under your paws. Thankfully the mother's status as either anthro or feral determined the bearing of the foal, which was exactly what Arian wanted. She would not have signed up otherwise.
Nipping her lips, Menna pulled curiously at the lead rope. They were not heading towards the stable block, as she had originally assumed. Instead, they looped behind the barn, full of nickering voices, and towards the top strip of field at the head of the property. Arian hummed as she walked with a long, relaxed stride, mane bouncing over her shoulders. Clad simply in black jodhpurs and a light blue top with thin straps, she was well dressed for the spring weather, finding it too warm to work if she wore anything more. Yard work was hard work and she hated to get too sweaty. Menna only knew this because she had chattered about it during grooming one time, talking enough for the both of them.
Menna balked as they approached the field, drawing the lead rope taut. The whole field and entrance-way carried the scent of stallion, thick and potent in the air. It clung to the gate and clumps of brown hair betrayed where the stallion had been groomed, losing his winter coat as the weather grew warmer by the day. Anxious, the mare took a step back, shaking her head. She was not ready, she could not do it. The unicorn would just have to take her back to the stable until she was mentally prepared. Arian clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth encouragingly.
``Don't worry, he's not there yet.''
Arian patted her lower back reassuringly, fingers lingering a second longer than strictly necessary.
``We'll get him for you soon, once we have you all set up.''
Menna was not sure if she liked the sound of that either. But she had no choice in the matter: she had signed the contract.
Swallowing her nerves, she followed Arian into the field, gate bumping gently against the frame after they passed. In a good, clear space stood something similar to a saddle rack, suitable for three or more saddles to sit in a row if they all faces the same direction, which was topped with a plump, dark green pad. The top of the rack formed an upside down `V', the point of which was softened by the thick padding. Menna had an inkling that she would soon be thankful for the padding, if she was to rest upon it in any way, shape or form. Several separate ropes lay on both sides of the device, neatly coiled and tied off ready for use.
Arian walked up to the mating device, to name it simply, and unclipped the lead rope from Menna's red head collar, slinging it back over her shoulder. To follow up, she fished a key from her pocket and unlocked Menna's cuffs in turn, each unlocking with a light click that was music to her ears. She took a sly moment to stretch her arms above her head with her paws free of cuffs and chain, unaware of how Arian looked her body up and down, skin pulling taut over muscle and bone. The little mare was fit. Arian would not mind some private time alone with her after she had been bred. The allowance was written into contract and lesbian fun was something that Menna had expressed a curiosity in when filling out her initial forms. She mused, tapping a finger against her jaw, bone hard under her fingertip.
Privy to none of this, the roan equine swung her arms back down to her sides and eyed the pad with trepidation, resisting the urge to flee. That would not end well for her - there was more leeway to punish unruly `ponies' than feral horses. Yet another stipulation of the contract. Menna brushed her mane off the back of her neck and gulped, wondering what a punishment would be like. It was not something she wanted to experience, if she had any say in the matter. Arian remained frustratingly silent. Lifting and lowering one hoof, Menna flicked her ears and waited on further instructions.
``Up you get,'' Arian snapped out of her daze with a bright smile, seeming to reappear from a daydream or similar.
The unicorn patted the breeding aid, making her intentions quite clear. Menna's lips parted to ask a question and clamped shut a second later. No, she was not to talk unless it was a dire situation, one hundred and ten percent necessary. She knew this. She could convey her question through other means. Feeling herself quite silly, the horse tilted her head to the left, ears flopping in the same direction, blinking in the most obvious expression of confusion she could muster. Arian nodded in approval.
``This is where you will be bred,'' she explained simply. ``You'll be quite secure on this and positioned at the correct height for Leon to mount you. His presence should set off your natural response of arousal, since we have fed you hormones for the last month. They've got quite a spark to them. Your response, once the stallion is here, could be said to be similar to that of an artificial heat.''
The explanation soothed Menna's frazzled mind and she bobbed her muzzle once in understanding. She clambered awkwardly on to the pad, nerves leaping in her stomach like a horde of frogs. Balanced precariously on one paw and one knee, she blushed and looked to Arian for direction, muscles aching from supporting herself in such an unbalanced way. She should have thought that action through beforehand.
``Rest on your stomach, honey.''
Thankful for the guidance, Menna allowed her arms and legs to fall either side of the device, landing on her front with a quiet `oof' as her landing was more forceful than intended. The mare could not have it all ways, there was bound to be some clumsiness in the action. Sex was always like that.
``Good girl...''
End preview.
Thank you for reading! This is a preview for a collection of erotic short stories and is available to purchase worldwide via Smashwords and distributors!
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Mares are sexy and lustful, well known for often needing far more than their partners are able to provide. And that is just why these mares are going after what they need and desire, studs worthy of the name and so very far about the prowess of their partners. They need more and so why shouldn?t they get it, I ask you? It?s not their fault that their partners are inadequate!
Cuckolding is a nuance of its own but they don?t care whether or not their partners find out, as long as they come out of each and every intimate moment with just what they need and, often, a swollen belly and so much more...
A collection of four snippet stories and one short story focusing on anthro mares and their cuckolding exploits - whether their partners find out or not!
A Stallion's Secret Love: Lust between Studs
I?ve been at the stable yard for a long time, a dappled grey stallion that turns all the heads, and I?ve seen many horses come and go but never before quite one like Firefly. The chestnut stallion is intact, like me, and with a personality that has me watching from the very first moment he sets hoof out in the field, waiting to see just what he will do. He?s powerful and strong and sweetly prideful, primed as a jumper and rippling with muscle that lifts him to the heavens and beyond. I can?t jump like him but I?d give my heart for any jump if he could just be by my side.
But things are about to change as our nightly visits take on a warmer, sweeter tone than I could have ever have imagined before, the bodies of two stallions coming together in blissful passion. And I wouldn?t change my time with Firefly for the world.
He?s the only one I want to be with.
Stallion at Stud: Breeding My Mare
There is a height of pride and pleasure to being a breeding stud - I mean, who wouldn?t want to be me? A stunning, studly, hunky stallion that all the mares want? Of course, that?s only when they?re in season, they tend to be a bit moody, otherwise but I?m not going to complain when I get my fill of them either way. And I only get the ones that are hot and ready for him, their marehoods winking and ready for my shaft.
There?s nothing like breeding and a stallion should always have his needs satisfied...
Note: this story is told from the stallion?s point of view.
Bred by a Stallion: The Centaur's Debasement
My name is Akira and, well, I didn?t think anything would come of going out hunting on a quiet day, taking my time and working my way through some things that have been preying on my mind. I need time and space for myself - especially when it?s mating season for a centaur. Like horses, our seasons come on a few weekly cycle during the warmer months of the year, but there are few medications available to us these days to control them.
That can, sometimes, be a problem.
I didn?t expect things to turn dark. I didn?t expect my season to get the better of me, heat coursing through my body, flagging my tail. I didn?t expect to want it so much. And I most certainly didn?t expect to get caught up, twisting in the undergrowth, with a herd of horses approaching, scenting me out softly.
I didn?t expect to like it.
This is what happened when the stallions found me.
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