He felt it before he heard it. The soft, firm touch of fingers gliding down the smooth muscles of his broad back as he leaned upon the marble railing. His ears swiveled back as the gentle rasp of skin and fur scratched, raising the hairs to bristle along the tendons of his thick neck. 

“What are you thinking about, my king?” came a low, sultry voice. 

His hands felt the chill of the marble, the nip in the desert breeze that came with each night. “I am merely gazing down upon my kingdom,” he said at last. “A hard fought conquest against the leopards, but a worthwhile one.”

A heavy body pressed into his back, making him tense up. 

“You gaze so longingly into the ruins of that old city. Why do you not gaze upon me instead?”

Tyronus turned from the railing to lay his weary eyes on the only true object of his desire. Though he may conquer a thousand lands and drive a thousand kingdoms beneath his ironshod hooves, the great war horse would gladly surrender everything he had for the one standing before him. Indeed, perhaps he already had. His soft hair a mottled paint of caramel splashed with cream, Persephon stood, his watery, black eyes like liquid ebony as he smiled softly beneath a veil of purple gauze. 

“Do you like the way I look, my king,” he said, spreading his arms wide. 

Tyronus could only nod as he took in the stallion’s form. His mane was a radiant gold that hung down his broad right shoulder. Left straight, it cascaded like a waterfall of the finest silks of the East. His muzzle was a charcoal beneath the filmy veil, his full lips glistening wetly, beckoning the king to taste of them. Tyronus let his gaze wander down the slope of the graceful neck to fall upon the fullness of the stallion’s swelling breasts. Once, Persephon’s chest was a barrel of flat muscle. Now it had grown soft and round. His nipples were dark and puffy. Two gold rings were looped through each tender bud from which dangled a ruby like a droplet of fresh blood. The king’s mouth curled into a wide smile as his gaze continued to fall, lighting upon the great swell of the stallion’s massive pregnant belly. His taut, swollen flesh distended beautifully outward in a perfect, ripe globe. His navel, long since given up the fight, had surrendered and thrust outward to form a small hump in the middle of that immense orb. From that tiny mound, there hung another golden ring. A delicate chain of gold descended down from the piercing, traveling to the horse’s groin. It was to here, that the king let his eyes travel. Encased in a flowing loincloth of purple gauze, which fell to the stallion’s hooves, was a thick shaft of dark, hot flesh. From the broad tip of Persephon’s rod there glinted a golden ring, to which the chain was fastened, connecting his belly to his penis.

Persephon offered a shy grin and averted his face while one hand cupped his massive belly and the other slid coyly around his heaving chest. In the dim, flickering of the naptha pots burning on the walls, his hair fairly glowed. His ears swiveled down in supplication as he flashed a sideways glance at the king. To many, it would be an utter shock to learn that this gentle, harem concubine was once Tyronus’ bodyguard and his closest friend. 

“I see the mares have taught you well,” Tyronus chuckled. His nostrils flared, taking in the rich scent of jasmine and sandalwood which wafted from the stallion’s supple body. He reached out to place his rough fingers on Persephon’s smooth belly. “Perhaps too well.”

The stallion shuddered beneath the firm, strong touch of his friend and lover. “Oh, my king,” he sighed. “Do not tease me so. I have spent so long in preparation for tonight. Please, do not tarry like this.”

“They really have been teaching you.” Tyronus let out a lusty guffaw, his neighs rocking the marble blocks of his chambers. 

Now, it was Persephon’s turn to laugh. The paint stallion giggled. “Yes, I feared that they were growing jealous of me, my king.”
“Call me Tyronus, my love,” the king replied. “We’ve known each other since we were foals.”
Persephon pushed himself back from the king and turned to reveal the smooth, hard muscles of his back which tapered down to a wide, round buttocks, hidden behind the spilling gold of a tail that had grown to the floor. As he stepped across the marble, his great hooves clacking on the stone, his long tail trailed behind him like the train of a lady’s dress. Tyronus took note of the way his round ass swayed beneath that tail and felt his manhood stir with every graceful movement of the stallion’s strong, shapely thighs. Persephon turned his head to watch his king as he made his way to the great bed of the royal chambers. A wide, spacious mattress of finest Eastern cotton, the silken sheets the color of a rich, heady wine that shimmered in the flickering light of the lamps. Persephon placed a knee on the bed and arched his back. He swung his arm down to sweep up his long, golden tail, exposing his ripe buttocks. 

“Come to me Tyronus,” he beckoned. He raised an arm draped in the hairs of his tail like cloth of gold. His fingers curling seductively, he called to the king, “Come to me. Make love to me like when we first joined.”

It all came washing back to him. Tyronus strode among hunched, quiet figures shivering in the muck and slime of that abysmal marsh. They spoke in hushed whispers as he passed, their armor clinking softly as they shifted their weight. Tyronus’s hooves were caked with mud from the battlefield, his own bronze plate coated in grime and filth and he kept a firm hand on the hilt of his sword. Before him, a simple tent was erected for their general and king. He tore open the flap and entered to find Persephon awaiting him. 

“Was your meeting with the commanders to your satisfaction?” The stallion had shed his armor and now knelt upon a sleeping rug, clad in little more than a white wrap about his supple waist. 

Tyronus snorted, feeling a strange desire welling up within him as he let his gaze wander down the other horse’s body. The smooth, lithe contours of Persephon’s muscles enticed him, intrigued him. He shook his head, his long, black mane flapping about his face and unbuckled his armor. Letting the heavy plate crash to the floor, he then proceeded to unclasp his sword belt. 

Coming to sit beside his oldest friend, he hugged his arms around his knees and nodded. “It did.”

“That’s it?” Persephon asked with a slight grin. “It did?”

“Isn’t that enough?” Tyronus snapped. 

Persephon shook his head, allowing his flowing gold mane to flutter like a banner in the breeze. His hair was always so perfect, thought Tyronus. 

“I remember when we were foals in your father’s camp.” The paint stallion chuckled. “The time Grelka’s son, Demus knocked you down and stole your sugar loaf.”

“As I recall, you tracked him down and bloodied his snout, but good,” replied the king with a short laugh. 

“I am your bodyguard,” Persephon said. He suddenly leaned closer, so close that his warm, wet breath scorched Tyronus’s neck. His fingers came to caress the soft grey hair of the stallion’s broad, hard chest. “And I think it is time I guarded this body.”

Tyronus recoiled from his friend’s touch, at first a look of horror etched across his face. But, as he spun about to face the other horse, he gazed into those black pools. Before he could act, his muscles began to relax as Persephon leaned close. 

“Persephon, what are you--” 

The other stallion placed a finger to the king’s lips. “Hush now. The night is long and cold. It is time we took our rest. You may huddle with me to keep warm.”

His hand slid down the king’s rippling stomach, feeling his muscles tense beneath his touch. Tyronus, in spite of the chill of the evening, felt his face grow hot as he reached out to touch the stallion’s face. What was he doing? This was foolish, yet his manhood was growing harder by the moment. Persephon lowered himself upon the rug and turned his back to the king. Tyronus fell in behind him, his arm coming up over the other horse’s shoulder. His hands groped the strong, hard muscles of his chest, sliding ever lower to feel the rolling muscles of his belly. Swallowing against the tightness in his throat, Tyronus pressed himself to Persephon. The stallion’s heat was invigorating. He laid his cheek to the other’s face and listened to the slow, deep breaths of his friend. His hand fell further, coming to a stop on the smooth, long shaft of the stallion’s fully erect cock. Tyronus let out a sharp gasp. His fingers wrapped around that quivering shaft like the haft of a spear. 

Persephon moaned quietly as the king stroked up his hard rod. Tyronus’s fingers found the broad tip, the shimmering jewel of trickling precum making his fingers sticky. Retracting his arm, he then placed his hand on the stallion’s hip. Persephon rolled forward, exposing his buttocks to the king. Slowly, Tyronus’s hand came to find the cleft between the stallion’s cheeks and his heart fluttered for he found the horse hot and wanting. Persephon’s ring quivered at the gentle caress of Tyronus’s hand and the king suddenly knew that his dearest friend wished to be more than a simple companion this night. He licked his dried lips and pondered. Persephon lifted his tail, a beautiful golden brush, cut square like that of a common soldier, but remained silent. Tyronus gulped, his heart quaking. His trembling fingers gently pried those firm, round cheeks, exposing a dark button of slackening flesh, opening to him, calling him. His manhood had become painfully swollen, the veins rising like enraged serpents along the engorged shaft. Dew leaked from the flat tip as he brought his member to bear. His head throbbed, his lungs burning for air, for the king in this moment, could not bring himself to breathe as he guided his shaft towards that dark ring. His tip nuzzled Persephon’s anus and the stallion let his head fall back with a short groan that for an instant, nearly broke the spell. Tyronus began to draw back, but the strong grip of Persephon came down on his wrist. 

“This is what we have both wanted,” he whispered. “Do not pull back now.”

Sweat slathered Tyronus’s body, chilling him to the bone. He shivered, though whether from the cold or from fear, he could not say. He nudged his tip closer, pressing into Persephon’s ass. The stallion quivered and sighed as the king continued to push. His ring opened before the king, ushering him within, only to close down hard around his massive spear. Tyronus’s fingers sank into the muscular flesh of Persephon’s hip as he felt the heat of the stallion’s body crush around his cock. The king let out a rasping sigh and thrust his hips into Persephon’s ass. Further, he pushed, forcing himself deep into the other horse’s rectum. His glans struck Persephon’s prostate and the stallion had to stifle a cry, lest the men outside heard them. Tyronus wrapped an arm about Persephon’s stomach and pulled back, only to come again with renewed strength. 

“A-Ah,” groaned Persephon. “There is that ferocity I remember.”

Tyronus slammed his pubic bone into the other horse’s ass, grinding hard, losing himself to the overwhelming flood of released passion. His awkward, jabbing thrusts gave way to smooth, long, pumps that pushed deep and pulled back with a slow, purposeful rhythm that made Persephon press his lips together in a sweet moan of ecstasy. The stallion gripped the rug and tugged them both up so that he lay on his stomach with Tyronus on top of him. He spread his strong thighs wide and pushed up on his knees, spreading himself before his king. Tyronus felt the hard belly muscles relax under his fingers and he drove his hips with greater intensity, eliciting hushed grunts from his love with every pump. 

“Oh… Oh… Ah…” murmured Persephon. 

Tyronus laid himself against that broad, hard back. The back of his friend who had carried up the hill when they were foals and he had twisted his ankle. The back that shielded him from his enemies in war, the sweat glistening as blood and steel met in a clashing din. His nostrils flared, smelling the sweat and blood and fear around them. Keenly aware, as if for the first time of his own mortality. Tears stung his eyes and Tyronus buried his hot face into the soft, golden mane of Persephon, the one he had known his entire life. The one he trusted the most and now he knew, the one he wanted most to be with. His great body quaked with sobs and Persephon only smiled as he remained silent, allowing the king this moment. 

Tyronus sat up, grabbing the stallion hard about the hips. His churning balls retracted to his pelvis and his cock throbbed with the unmistakable itch to release. Clenching his flat teeth, he pulled back, but was stopped by Persephon. 

“No, Tyronus,” he moaned. “Don’t pull out.”

The king smiled, his lips quivering as fresh tears trickled down his broad snout to drip upon the stallion’s back and run along the channel of his spine. 

“Thank you,” he whispered and thrust himself one last time. 

His cock erupted, flooding his hot, fertile seed deep into the stallion’s hungry body. The horse’s belly gurgled, growing warm with his lover’s semen as he licked his lips and let his hand fall to his lower abdomen. Tyronus, slick with sweat, pulled his softening groin from Persephon’s battered ass and fell upon the rug, panting. White fluid seeped down the stallion’s thigh, trickling out from his opened ring, but the horse cared little. He laid himself down by his king and lover, his hand coming up to gently wipe away the tears from Tyronus’ face. His breath was warm and smelled of jasmine. Tyronus had never known Persephon to smell so sweet. His trembling lips found themselves drawn to that honeyed chalice and soon he found himself locked in that fateful embrace until dawn. 

Little had the king known that the seeds he planted that night would come to bear such fruit. Now, Persephon lay on his back, his arms above his head. Tyronus brought his hand down on that ripe, swollen belly, tracing a path down the underside to find the bristling pubic hairs that descended from his navel to his groin. A faint stirring beneath the taut, round flesh brought a flutter to his breast and the king could not help but smile. 

“To think it would come to this,” he said. “I never would have imagined.”

“I prefer it to the battlefield,” replied Persephon. “Though I fear the mares of the harem look upon me with jealous eyes, for their own beds go cold night after night.”

“Then, I will let the guards have them,” said the king. “For I need none but you.”

At this the pregnant stallion laughed. “I always wondered how you inspired such loyalty in the men. Oh Tyronus, you never changed.” 

The king let out a lusty neigh and let the blue wrap about his waist tumble to the floor. His manhood rising up like a halberd, he leapt into the bed beside his mate. Propped up on his elbow, Tyronus traced a path through Persephon’s scruffy forest until his fingers came to a rest upon the purple loincloth. The king could not suppress his mirth at the site of the stallion’s rigid pole slipping forth from its sheath. Already a small, dark stain was forming where the flat tip met the flimsy material. The golden chain jiggled like the playful tingle of a bell as Tyronus removed the filmy gauze and flung the cloth over his shoulder. Now, his fingertips did find themselves offering but the lightest touch. Merely, a feather’s graze as he slowly, agonizingly traced up the plump underside of the stallion’s throbbing shaft. 

“A-Ah,” Persephon gasped, his back arching.

A steady trickle of precum shimmered from that blessed tip and Tyronus proceeded to wind his finger gently about the swollen head until he tapped the golden ring. A sharp, rasping sigh blew from the lips of the stallion, causing the veil around his mouth to flutter momentarily. His fingers still about the stallion’s cock, Tyronus bent down to plant his lips to that rigid shaft. Persesphon whinnied in barely contained excitement, his rod spurting a short fountain of clear, shimmering fluid. 

“O-Oh, my king, you mustn’t,” he whined. 

Tyronus heaved himself up, his hands questing now up the mound that was his lover’s gravid middle, to rain his sweet kisses on the slope of Persephon’s round belly. Through the valley between his sagging, milk heavy breasts he climbed, to slither up his curved throat. One hand gripped a breast hard, the fingers swirling around the dark areola while Persephon’s grey muzzle curled into a smile as he felt the king’s fingers upon his lips. Carefully, Tyronus removed the veil and cast it too, to the floor before rising to retrieve a small, golden jar. 

“I cannot let such a work of art go unadorned,” he said, twisting the lid off. “This is purest ochre from the Eastern Empire. One jar is worth a palace.” Tyronus stuck two fingers into the jar and came up with tips the color of deep crimson. “You are worth far more than that.”

Persephon closed his ebon eyes and pressed his full, glistening lips out in a pout. Tyronus now bent low, his reddened fingers gliding along the stallion’s lips to leave a deep crimson trail along the charcoal grey. Satisfied, the king set aside the jar and leaned down. His palms resting in the wine colored silk, he claimed that reddened mouth for his own. His warm, soft lips clasped themselves firmly to the stallion’s wanting mouth. Persephon’s ears swiveled back as he emitted a low moan of wondrous pleasure. Tyronus, clutching the other horse in his embrace, let his hand fall along the swollen belly, his fingers kneading the taut flesh until a flutter of furious kicks pummeled his hand. Persephon shook with laughter as he felt their offspring move within him. The king’s rough tongue plunged down his throat, swirling and rubbing, stirring him into dizzying passion. At last, he could take no more and shoved Tyronus back with a loud, racking gasp. 

“Enough,” he cried. “You tease me so.” 

Tyronus fell back to see Persephon, his face a mask of agony, flip over on his belly, his round buttocks thrust upward. Once hard with muscle, his body was now becoming soft, almost plump in his pregnancy. His ass was now two full, round spheres of jiggling flesh that called to Tyronus. The king sat up, his cock rigid and tall as the stallion turned to regard him in challenge. 

“Cease your torment and claim me,” he growled. His fingers dug into the sheets. “Now!”

Tyronus’s ears flattened and he licked his lips as his lecherous gaze fell on that fat pillow of brown and white. His greedy hands seized the soft flesh, squeezing it hard between his fingers so that Persephon did cry out. 

“No one will hear us in here,” the king said in a low, husky voice. “You may scream all you want.”

His thumbs dug into that deep, rich valley, spreading the stallion open. He could not help but remark how the splash of white about Persephon’s anus reminded him of a heart. 

“You’ve gotten big, and soft,” he said. “I have sculpted you well.”

Peresephon licked his lips and sighed, a full, throaty sound. “I am but simple clay in the hands of a master artist.” He closed his eyes and moaned softly. “Mmm, and I beg of you, please, I so ache for the sculptor’s touch.”

His anus was hot and wet, slackening in preparation to receive his lover. Tyronus pressed himself to that dark ring, thrusting his rigid member deep. Persephon uttered a cry as he felt the swollen head slam into his quivering prostate. Tyronus wrapped a strong arm under the stallion’s belly, while his other slid under his right armpit. Lifting the horse up, he laid his head on Persephon’s shoulder, inhaling the rich, musky odor of his mane, combined with the tingling thrill of jasmine and sandalwood. Together, they knelt upon their knees, locked in their carnal embrace. Tyronus pushed his hips deeper, plunging totally within his love and stopped. He held himself there, savoring the warmth of his lover’s body. They sat in silence, drinking in the moment of being one. Persephon’s rectum tightened around the king’s hard shaft, the smooth muscles stroking his throbbing cock. 

Tyronus groaned and pulled back, slowly so deliciously slowly. His cock pulsed with the pent up desire to release itself, but the king clenched his teeth and held himself back. He pulled back, stopped and then pressed once more, sliding up that smooth, tight tunnel. Persephon let his head fall back, his golden mane forming a cape over the king’s broad shoulder, and groaned as his belly swelled with the fullness of his lover’s driving cock. Tyronus’s right hand came to play with the soft breast of his lover, his fingers kneading the bloated flesh. He found the bumpy areola and circled the dark skin until Persephon shuddered. His finger hooked into the golden ring piercing the stallion’s nipple and he gave a quick tug. 

Persephon let out a mewling whimper. “A-Ah, my king please. I am so tender, be gentle with me.”

Tyronus smirked and gave another tug. Persephon gave a start and clamped his anus tight around the king’s cock. 

“You are such a fierce, brutal lover,” the stallion groaned. “It is not enough that you conquer, but you must also torture those you defeat.”

“I am a cruel and wrathful man,” the king snarled. 

Persephon smiled wickedly. Bending at the waist, he stretched himself forward, his arms extending out before him as if he were bowing. “Then spare me not your wrath o’ king. Take me fiercely, so that my tortured wails will shake the very foundations.”

Tyronus seized those wide painted hips with a cruel ferocity, making the stallion cry out. Persephon’s long, golden tail flicked across his buttocks and the king did grasp it, pulling hard until the stallion whimpered. Then, his cock engorged and ready, he thrust hard, slamming his pelvis into those soft cheeks. His rigid member tore ferociously along the smooth, quivering walls of Persephon’s rectum, making the stallion cry out. 

“Ah… Ah… Yes… Yes…. Y-Yes!” His screams rose to the arched ceiling. 

The bedchamber thundered with the wet slap of raw meat and the shrieks of love that ripped from the raw throat of Persephon as Tyronus did claim his mate. His grey body slick with sweat, the king fell upon the stallion’s back, his unsheathed dagger thrusting itself to the hilt. His balls churned, quivering as they retracted into his pelvis. His cock spurted with hot precum and he could at last stand no more. With a deep, throaty roar, Tyronus did erupt into Persephon. His hot, bubbling seed flowed, crashing like a tidal wave into the horse’s prostate so that at that exact same instant, Persephon did throw his head back in a wailing chorus as he released himself onto the sheets. Their cries echoed across the empty courtyard to fill the ears of the peasants like the dreadful, haunting moans of the restless spirits. The pregnant stallion, his belly full and warm with his lover’s essence, collapsed, panting in the puddle of his own spent seed. 

Tyronus shuddered, giving one last pump and pulled himself from Persephon’s anus. A thin trickle of semen oozed down the stallion’s inner thigh and the king paused to wipe it away. Persephon rolled to his side, his hands clasped behind his knees as he drew his legs up so that he may hold his lover’s seed within him. 

“Perhaps you will sire upon me another this night?” He gave a weary grin as he gazed at Tyronus with wet, tired eyes. 

Tyronus lay beside his mate. He reached out and gently moved a lock of golden hair from the horse’s face before he rolled over and scooped something up. Persephon’s ears pricked up curiously as he strained to see what Tyronus was reaching for. The king rolled back over, a gold chain dangling from his fist. 

“I believe that since you carry my heir, we must make it official,” the king said and clasped the chain behind the stallion’s neck. 

Persephon felt along the golden links, his eyes suddenly growing wide as he touched a large diamond. 

“M-My king, Tyronus.” His words were a strangled murmur. “This is the diamond necklace of your mother! Only the queen may wear such a gem.”

Tyronus placed his hand upon Persephon’s face. “And so it shall always be.”

“But, I cannot,” the stallion replied. “I-I am--”

“Are you not my consort? Do you not carry my heir? I will not have a bastard be next in line,” the king said. “The others may think what they will. Bah! Let them writhe and seethe in their jealousy of us. I care not.”

Persephon’s lip quivered and he blinked at the stinging tears that trickled down his snout. “O-Oh… Tyronus.”

The stallion nuzzled his face into the king’s chest. Tyronus smiled and wrapped his arms about his love. “We have come so far, my old friend, my one and only love. And together, we will have so much farther yet to travel.”