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"description": "She knows what her life will be like as a broodmare, just there to be bred and taken, although she is not always an anthro who is in the mood for her job. What more can one expect from a spotted mare with a forelock that falls 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.\n\nBut it's come time for her first breeding and two very special stallions have been picked out for the anthro slave mare to take. One is a familiar shape and kind to her, a worker at the farm, but the other will have a mightier member than anything she's ever taken before...\n\nSuch is the life of a broodmare, though Skylark's lot in life is going to change more than she could ever have imagined.\n\nAuthor's note: this story contains anthro on non-anthro sex (bestiality, feral etc) in the context of sexual slavery. Dubious consent themes are included in this story, due to the nature of the sexual slavery, and, as always, is fiction and fantasy, intended to be taken as such.\n\n\n---\n\n\nThank you for reading! This story is available to purchase, worldwide, via Smashwords and Commissio!\n\nSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1931610\nCommissio: https://commiss.io/listings/1m3gA\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\nalismitsy\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[at]gmail.com",
"description_bbcode_parsed": "She knows what her life will be like as a broodmare, just there to be bred and taken, although she is not always an anthro who is in the mood for her job. What more can one expect from a spotted mare with a forelock that falls 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. One is a familiar shape and kind to her, a worker at the farm, but the other will have a mightier member than anything she's ever taken before...
Such is the life of a broodmare, though Skylark's lot in life is going to change more than she could ever have imagined.
Author's note: this story contains anthro on non-anthro sex (bestiality, feral etc) in the context of sexual slavery. Dubious consent themes are included in this story, due to the nature of the sexual slavery, and, as always, is fiction and fantasy, intended to be taken as such.
---
Thank you for reading! This story is available to purchase, worldwide, via Smashwords and Commissio!
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1931610
Commissio: https://commiss.io/listings/1m3gA
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[at]gmail.com",
"writing": "The Slave Mare and the Breeding Farm\n\nBreeding Stock\n\n\n\n\n\nThe stable hand groaned, wiping the sweat from his brow as he straightened up the muck heap with a pitchfork and shovel. At a busy breeding yard, there always seemed to be too much work to complete comfortably, particularly during the leading edge of summer when the foals would be born, if all had gone to plan with the breeding program, that is. They liked to have the foals strong and able before they faced the Autumn chill apart from their dams. Muttering over the hum of his own thoughts, the chestnut stallion dug the pitchfork into the mess of straw and manure, tossing it up to the side of the mound.\n\n“Aren’t you done yet? Oi, you! Sean!”\n\nThe horse on the muck heap frowned and stood up tall, putting the pitchfork to one side. A scruffy equine, Alan, in ripped jeans and a worn, black t-shirt stood in the middle of the small sand arena – or pen – the sun gleaming on his pale palomino coat. Grinning broadly, he whistled to regain Sean’s attention while the other pinned his ears back, flicking his black tail like the pendulum of a clock.\n\n“’Course I’m not done yet,” he said coarsely, flicking his damp mane off his neck. “Though it would go a right side quicker if you came up here and helped me.”\n\n“Nah, can’t, mate,” Alan shook his head. “We’re breeding the new mare today.”\n\n“Breeding? Today?” Sean’s ears twitched curiously. “Mite late.”\n\nAlan laughed obnoxiously, tossing his head back so that his blonde mane flung back as if in a dramatic film scene. There wasn’t a drop of sweat on the bugger, thought Sean, grumbling over the fact that the other hand had done a fair job of skiving off yet again.\n\n“Wrong mare, mate. Wrong one,” Alan chuckled throatily. “It’s the new new one. You coming to see?”\n\nAh, so it was not the four-year-old cob that was being bred, Sean comprehended after a moment. Instead, it was the fine, little filly that would have a stallion on her back this time. It didn’t matter so much when the slaves were bred; they were easier to accommodate throughout the colder months with foals, more so than your average four-legger.\n\nShrugging, he followed Alan to the top stable block, patting the nose of his own horse as he passed him – a rescued Thoroughbred that was blind in one eye. If Sean had not bought him at the local auction, a crowded country affair, the smart gelding would have swiftly become dog meat. And he couldn’t have let that happen – he was still a good jumper, if a bit spooky in traffic.\n\nThey stopped at the door of a stable with the top and bottom doors bolted, two neat but rusted padlocks ensuring that the occupant was safely and securely contained. Alan slid a key into both padlocks and tossed them aside on to the concrete floor, one of them tumbling into a puddle although he didn’t bother to retrieve it. Swinging the top door open with a pretentious creak, he peered into the clean and well-kept stable, light slanting in through a high, glassless window.\n\n“Rise and shine, darling,” Alan smirked. “Time to make some foals.”\n\nThe pretty appaloosa mare scrambled up on to two hooves, brushing stray pieces of straw from her white coat, which was spotted with black ovals. She glared and snorted derisively, turning back to her half-eaten hay net, which was tied at a comfortable height for her to pick at throughout the day\n\n“Fuck off, arsehole,” she snapped, flattening her tail over her buttocks. “Not today, come back tomorrow, thank you, goodbye.”\n\n“Aw, don’t be like that, cutie,” he drawled sickeningly. “You know you’ll love it.”\n\n“Hah? From you?” She made a rude gesture and shifted so that her back pressed against the wall, though it only drew attention to her full breasts and crotch, begging the interest of any stallion. “What have you got down there, hm? A carrot? I couldn’t even feel that. Need something bigger to play with a mare like me.”\n\n“Ah, so it’s gonna be the hard way, is it?” Alan grumbled, swiping at Sean who chuckled at the spirited filly, liking her attitude.\n\nIgnoring her quip of, ‘not so hard today’, Alan clopped around the corner and grabbed a bridle and several lengths of soft, worn rope, originally white but grey with use. He wasted no time in barging into the mare’s roomy stable and wrestling her into the bridle. Squealing and kicking out, she pushed him away but had nowhere to run to, backed into the corner as she was. She rolled her eyes as the stronger stallion dragged the bridle over her muzzle and thrust the metal bit between her teeth. Indignantly, she brought her paws up in a rebellious attempt to unbuckle the leather but suddenly Sean was there, brandishing a riding crop with a triangular flap on the end.\n\n“Ah, ah, ah,” Sean said, wagging his finger in front of her muzzle as if she was a naughty foal in school. “You’re a pretty thing and no one wants to see you get yourself hurt now. Be a good girl now and put your paws down.”\n\nShe remembered the sting of that riding crop. She remembered the whistle of it as it whipped through the air. She remembered her own muffled squeals as she tried to escape the pain. No, she didn’t want that. Though her anger blazed, she lowered her paws slowly, letting them hang limply at her sides, her fingers loose if not relaxed.\n\n“There we are, that wasn’t so hard,” Sean said soothingly, stroking the angry appie’s mane. “Come along now.”\n\n“Yeah, come on, slave,” Alan grunted, hauling on her reins. “Sean, get the others.”\n\nWhile Sean went off to retrieve the appaloosa’s partner, the palomino towed her unwillingly to the pen that he had prepared earlier. For the slaves, there was a special mounting bench that had been adapted from the contraptions used to ‘milk’ semen from stallions when they were not available for stud. He shoved the mare in the small of her back so that she lay over the padded top of the bench, her arms and legs dangling comically to either side. Though she grumbled and whined, Sean was professional and efficient in lifting her arms up to the supportive ‘shelves’ on either side of the bench, tying them to the conveniently positioned metal rings with the lengths of rope. Her legs received similar treatment and when she was bound tightly, Sean dispassionately grabbed a tail bandage and wrapped the entire length of it before securing it into a handy ‘loop’. He playfully tugged on it and laughed at her offended squeal, muscles twitching furiously beneath the skin.\n\nShe struggled to turn her head and widened her eyes sharply. A powerful stallion pranced on the end of a red lead rope, the end of which was clasped firmly in Sean’s paw, though the horse tugged good-spiritedly at the restraint. He had caught the scent of the fertile mare from some distance away and his cock had slipped free of its sheath to bounce against the black horse’s belly. A calmer stallion plodded further back on the end of a loose lead rope, his dappled grey coating shining with good health; he had seen it all before unlike the younger fellow dancing out his arousal.\n\n“I’ll nether take that!” The mare mumbled through the bit gag. “Lemme go! ‘E’s too bigth!”\n\n\n\n\nEnd preview.\n\n\n\n\nThank you for reading! This story is available to purchase, worldwide, via Smashwords and Commissio!\n\nSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1931610 \nCommissio: https://commiss.io/listings/1m3gA \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\n\n\n\n\nIf you liked this book, you may also enjoy...\n\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\nAuthor's note: this story contains bestiality and is intended to be taken as fantasy and fiction only.\n\n\nWhen a Dragon Takes a Mare\n\nShe was only grazing a short distance from her herd when it happened. The dragon came, death from above, but it wasn't the hunger of her flesh that he craved that day, but rather what her body could offer him while still alive...\n\nA dragon, after all, had his needs to be fulfilled too, even if there were no dragonesses around.\n\nBut can a horse's body, primed and fertile, take the member of a savage beast of the skies?\n\nAuthor's note: this story contains non-consensual sex between a horse and a dragon. It is fantasy and fiction and intended to be taken as such.\n\n\nThe Filly Maker\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\nAuthor's note: this story contains consensual sex between \"furry\" or \"anthro\" characters.\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\n\nBecoming a Broodmare\n\nJason Mallory is a rapist. And justice is coming for him. Believed to be dead in the latest prison riot, he has no rights left to him and is dead in all but person. After all, who is going to stand up for such a despicable person?\n\nDragged off and believing his days to have come to an end at the hands of the lethal injection, he finds that a far worse fate awaits him. The prison has a little known secret facility where all manner of tests are carried out. But, for one particular experiment, Jason Mallory's body begins to change against his will.\n\nAnd his life will never be the same again, used as breeding toy for their whims.\n",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "The Slave Mare and the Breeding Farm
Breeding Stock
The stable hand groaned, wiping the sweat from his brow as he straightened up the muck heap with a pitchfork and shovel. At a busy breeding yard, there always seemed to be too much work to complete comfortably, particularly during the leading edge of summer when the foals would be born, if all had gone to plan with the breeding program, that is. They liked to have the foals strong and able before they faced the Autumn chill apart from their dams. Muttering over the hum of his own thoughts, the chestnut stallion dug the pitchfork into the mess of straw and manure, tossing it up to the side of the mound.
“Aren’t you done yet? Oi, you! Sean!”
The horse on the muck heap frowned and stood up tall, putting the pitchfork to one side. A scruffy equine, Alan, in ripped jeans and a worn, black t-shirt stood in the middle of the small sand arena – or pen – the sun gleaming on his pale palomino coat. Grinning broadly, he whistled to regain Sean’s attention while the other pinned his ears back, flicking his black tail like the pendulum of a clock.
“’Course I’m not done yet,” he said coarsely, flicking his damp mane off his neck. “Though it would go a right side quicker if you came up here and helped me.”
“Nah, can’t, mate,” Alan shook his head. “We’re breeding the new mare today.”
“Breeding? Today?” Sean’s ears twitched curiously. “Mite late.”
Alan laughed obnoxiously, tossing his head back so that his blonde mane flung back as if in a dramatic film scene. There wasn’t a drop of sweat on the bugger, thought Sean, grumbling over the fact that the other hand had done a fair job of skiving off yet again.
“Wrong mare, mate. Wrong one,” Alan chuckled throatily. “It’s the new new one. You coming to see?”
Ah, so it was not the four-year-old cob that was being bred, Sean comprehended after a moment. Instead, it was the fine, little filly that would have a stallion on her back this time. It didn’t matter so much when the slaves were bred; they were easier to accommodate throughout the colder months with foals, more so than your average four-legger.
Shrugging, he followed Alan to the top stable block, patting the nose of his own horse as he passed him – a rescued Thoroughbred that was blind in one eye. If Sean had not bought him at the local auction, a crowded country affair, the smart gelding would have swiftly become dog meat. And he couldn’t have let that happen – he was still a good jumper, if a bit spooky in traffic.
They stopped at the door of a stable with the top and bottom doors bolted, two neat but rusted padlocks ensuring that the occupant was safely and securely contained. Alan slid a key into both padlocks and tossed them aside on to the concrete floor, one of them tumbling into a puddle although he didn’t bother to retrieve it. Swinging the top door open with a pretentious creak, he peered into the clean and well-kept stable, light slanting in through a high, glassless window.
“Rise and shine, darling,” Alan smirked. “Time to make some foals.”
The pretty appaloosa mare scrambled up on to two hooves, brushing stray pieces of straw from her white coat, which was spotted with black ovals. She glared and snorted derisively, turning back to her half-eaten hay net, which was tied at a comfortable height for her to pick at throughout the day
“Fuck off, arsehole,” she snapped, flattening her tail over her buttocks. “Not today, come back tomorrow, thank you, goodbye.”
“Aw, don’t be like that, cutie,” he drawled sickeningly. “You know you’ll love it.”
“Hah? From you?” She made a rude gesture and shifted so that her back pressed against the wall, though it only drew attention to her full breasts and crotch, begging the interest of any stallion. “What have you got down there, hm? A carrot? I couldn’t even feel that. Need something bigger to play with a mare like me.”
“Ah, so it’s gonna be the hard way, is it?” Alan grumbled, swiping at Sean who chuckled at the spirited filly, liking her attitude.
Ignoring her quip of, ‘not so hard today’, Alan clopped around the corner and grabbed a bridle and several lengths of soft, worn rope, originally white but grey with use. He wasted no time in barging into the mare’s roomy stable and wrestling her into the bridle. Squealing and kicking out, she pushed him away but had nowhere to run to, backed into the corner as she was. She rolled her eyes as the stronger stallion dragged the bridle over her muzzle and thrust the metal bit between her teeth. Indignantly, she brought her paws up in a rebellious attempt to unbuckle the leather but suddenly Sean was there, brandishing a riding crop with a triangular flap on the end.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Sean said, wagging his finger in front of her muzzle as if she was a naughty foal in school. “You’re a pretty thing and no one wants to see you get yourself hurt now. Be a good girl now and put your paws down.”
She remembered the sting of that riding crop. She remembered the whistle of it as it whipped through the air. She remembered her own muffled squeals as she tried to escape the pain. No, she didn’t want that. Though her anger blazed, she lowered her paws slowly, letting them hang limply at her sides, her fingers loose if not relaxed.
“There we are, that wasn’t so hard,” Sean said soothingly, stroking the angry appie’s mane. “Come along now.”
“Yeah, come on, slave,” Alan grunted, hauling on her reins. “Sean, get the others.”
While Sean went off to retrieve the appaloosa’s partner, the palomino towed her unwillingly to the pen that he had prepared earlier. For the slaves, there was a special mounting bench that had been adapted from the contraptions used to ‘milk’ semen from stallions when they were not available for stud. He shoved the mare in the small of her back so that she lay over the padded top of the bench, her arms and legs dangling comically to either side. Though she grumbled and whined, Sean was professional and efficient in lifting her arms up to the supportive ‘shelves’ on either side of the bench, tying them to the conveniently positioned metal rings with the lengths of rope. Her legs received similar treatment and when she was bound tightly, Sean dispassionately grabbed a tail bandage and wrapped the entire length of it before securing it into a handy ‘loop’. He playfully tugged on it and laughed at her offended squeal, muscles twitching furiously beneath the skin.
She struggled to turn her head and widened her eyes sharply. A powerful stallion pranced on the end of a red lead rope, the end of which was clasped firmly in Sean’s paw, though the horse tugged good-spiritedly at the restraint. He had caught the scent of the fertile mare from some distance away and his cock had slipped free of its sheath to bounce against the black horse’s belly. A calmer stallion plodded further back on the end of a loose lead rope, his dappled grey coating shining with good health; he had seen it all before unlike the younger fellow dancing out his arousal.
“I’ll nether take that!” The mare mumbled through the bit gag. “Lemme go! ‘E’s too bigth!”
End preview.
Thank you for reading! This story is available to purchase, worldwide, via Smashwords and Commissio!
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1931610
Commissio: https://commiss.io/listings/1m3gA
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
If you liked this book, you may also enjoy...
Her First Time with a Stallion: Of Lust and Easing His Need
She'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...
Kassia 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.
Where'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...
Author's note: this story contains bestiality and is intended to be taken as fantasy and fiction only.
When a Dragon Takes a Mare
She was only grazing a short distance from her herd when it happened. The dragon came, death from above, but it wasn't the hunger of her flesh that he craved that day, but rather what her body could offer him while still alive...
A dragon, after all, had his needs to be fulfilled too, even if there were no dragonesses around.
But can a horse's body, primed and fertile, take the member of a savage beast of the skies?
Author's note: this story contains non-consensual sex between a horse and a dragon. It is fantasy and fiction and intended to be taken as such.
The Filly Maker
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...
Author's note: this story contains consensual sex between "furry" or "anthro" characters.
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?
Becoming a Broodmare
Jason Mallory is a rapist. And justice is coming for him. Believed to be dead in the latest prison riot, he has no rights left to him and is dead in all but person. After all, who is going to stand up for such a despicable person?
Dragged off and believing his days to have come to an end at the hands of the lethal injection, he finds that a far worse fate awaits him. The prison has a little known secret facility where all manner of tests are carried out. But, for one particular experiment, Jason Mallory's body begins to change against his will.
And his life will never be the same again, used as breeding toy for their whims.
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