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I was seething all the way from my father's study to the outer walls of our compound, and so I had not realised I had gone so far. My anger had given my hindpaws wings, and none of the family functionaries who saw me in my progress had seemed inclined to chat. They knew my moods by now almost as well as my fathers', and all knew that I was a cat to be avoided at such times.

It was a surprise therefore when I came out into the grey light of day and found myself in the first courtyard just inside the main gates. It took me a moment to orient myself and realise where I was. I must have been angrier than I realised, the distance from my father's study to here was a good few hundred metres and I had crossed the ground without being conscious of movement. My father's goading voice could have that effect it seemed.

Still breathing hard, I rested a paw against a wall and took in my surroundings. The usual hustle and bustle of the estate could be seen, functionaries and slaves moving in all directions. One sight caught my eyes though.

"Tarrand, what are you doing with that?"

My father's slavemaster suddenly turned to stare, unused to my presence in his world. The big feline was a little unsure of himself this morning, that I could tell from his tail. It always twitched like that when he was out of his comfort zone, which was frequently. I had wanted him gone for ages, but he was family if quite distant. My father was big on duty.

"Young Master Grothanis. It is a pleasure..."

"Spare me the pleasantries Tarrand, we both know how much you hate having me around. The feeling is mutual by the way. Just answer my question."

He hesitated, and it gave me a chance to run my eyes over the object of our discussion. I was intrigued.

It was not uncommon at all to see equines inside the compound, though they spent most of their time usually outside the walls working the estates. The one standing in the courtyard this morning was a most arresting specimen though, and he had captured my attention in all sorts of ways.

He looked young, barely of age, but strong and muscled. He also had the most delicious eyes, bright blue like ice, and they were staring at me now which was something experienced slaves had learned not to do. He was clearly not an experienced slave, and his ears told me the same story. Upright, pointed forward, alert but not deferential. This would never do.

"A late addition to the tribute my Lord. From the herd by the outpost on the Selenna river."

"Ahhh..."

Now at least I had an answer.

When we had conquered this insignificant planet we had despaired of finding anything of value. The local inhabitants were a race of equines, backward and unimpressive in anything but their bodies. So we had made the best of a bad situation and used what they had to give. We established our own estates, large and with all the benefits of our superior technology, taking the land the horses had neglected and turning it into useful things for the Kingdom. We had also demanded a price for our continued presence as "protectors" of their planet, but instead of demanding tribute in gold or goods, we had instituted a system of mandatory tribute in service. Technically the equines sent to work for us were "guest workers" but in practice they were slaves. They knew it too.

The herds had fallen into a form of passive resistance over time, sending only the ones they felt they could afford to lose. We became more sophisticated too, and required that our tribute come from those who had just come of age, so we got the best years of their service. The herds still tended to send us their dregs wherever possible, but this one did not fit the type at all.

He was tall, one of the tallest stallions I had seen. He was built like a warrior already, though he seemed to be barely out of his colthood. Most of all though he had a defiance and pride that marked out only the greatest stallions. I could see it in every muscle of his body, in every minute expression from his ears to his hooves. His eyes were the most startling, mixing loss and pain with pride and defiance like I had never seen in one of them before. He may be beaten, but he was not conquered.

I looked him over again, slower and with more practiced eye. I had more understanding of the creatures than my father had given me credit for, that much I knew, but I also knew he was right in some ways. I had a lot still to learn about our noble house, our place in the Kingdom, and our business. Perhaps this would be a good chance to gain experience.

Ignoring Tarrand as the non-entity he was, I walked directly up to the stallion. He did not take a step back, his eyes following me all the way wide open. His nostrils flared widely, and I knew he was drinking in my scent. It was their way, and I matched him deliberately, sniffing more delicately with my feline nose, detecting the many scents of a wild stallion.

It was intoxicating I had to admit. While I had spent some time around our slaves, I had rarely seen one straight from the herds. He was pungent, and in ways my fellows might find disgusting but which made me want to purr.

Musk. He reeked of it, pure and potent. A stallion indeed in his prime. I wonder how he got the call?

"Horse...what is your name?"

He gave a whinny and did not reply. Tarrand coughed, seemingly wanting me gone. He was in for a surprise.

"Tarrand, you haven't answered my question yet. Where are you taking this...thing?"

"He is to be washed and prepared to send to the farm barracks my Lord."

I turned to look at the stallion. Farm barracks...it seemed a waste.

"I think I want to be involved in this one's induction Tarrand. My father has told me he expects my direct involvement in family business from now on, as far as I am concerned, that includes management of the slaves."

The stupid cat had tried to interrupt me when I told him I was going to take an interest. I simply ignored him and kept on. Inside, I ground my incisors, remembering my father's sarcastic tongue as he berated me for my supposedly dissolute lifestyle. Well, perhaps I could show him I had learned, and yet have my fill of dissolution. It was a thought I had been mulling over for some time, and this one seemed a perfect specimen to try it.

"I am not a slave!"

With my focus on the hapless Tarrand, I had not been watching the stallion, so it came as an immense surprise when he suddenly spoke, and even more when I realised his command of our language was quite good. Good enough to put himself in mortal peril in any case.

The slavemaster seemed to quake, and well he might. The big equine was watching me now, with no thought for the slavemaster at all, which showed he had a finely attuned sense of authority like all their kind. It also showed he was courageous, strong, and stupid, also like most of them.

I looked him up and down, making him wait. He was big indeed; some sort of heavy breed, of which they had a few, with feathering of white on his arms and legs, a deep brown coat with white patch at his chest, white muzzle with pink nose, and a white mane. Beautiful...and in spite of my growing anger, his beauty made me weep.

"Silence horse."

His ears swivelled, and his eyes went wild, and he seemed about to do something rash. The slavemaster had the presence of mind at least to do his job. The horse suddenly fell to his knees, clutching a metal collar around his neck. The cat had managed to find his control box and hit the button, giving our new guest a taste of things to come.

On his knees, the stallion had his head pointing to the stone flags of the courtyard. His chest heaved, and for now he did not move, but his ears were still up. Even more intriguing. A part of me wanted to see those eyes again, even if it meant another dose of the collar. They looked more beautiful when he was in pain.

"My Lord, perhaps you should leave it to me, I am used to the creatures and..."

One paw held upright was enough to silence Tarrand. I wondered if the stud would be as easy.

One thing the horses had that we did not, and we had used it without a shred of regret. They had an antique code of honour, the herds, and once sworn would rather die than break it.

"Horse, listen to me. You swore an oath, to your herd and to your herd stallion, to obey and to work. That makes you a slave, and doubly so. You are bound by necessity and by sworn duty to your kind to do whatever I require. So I ask you again, what is your name?"

"Palas."

He said it reluctantly, but he said it, his voice a whisper of regret. I smiled at last, for the first time since my audience with my father. My blood pounded in my veins.

Power. It felt good. It tasted good too, like fine wine or a perfect Gerenta fruit from the mountains of our homeworld, or freshly killed meat. I felt it now, filling my senses along with the scent of this stallion, and both combined to have an effect most agreeable. My cock began to thicken, and to tingle.

"Good. Palas, you belong to us now. Your own people sold you out in exchange for being allowed to exist, and you were deemed a sacrifice they cared sufficiently little of to let go. And I am the son of the Viceroy of your planet, ruler of your kind and guarantor of that bargain. So when I address you, remember what is at stake for you and for your herd. If you disobey, if you run, if you give offence, it is not only you who suffers. We will take the payment from your herd too, and we will not stop until your kind learn."

He had let his head come up during my speech, the defiance and pain mixed with anger. Ahhh so beautiful, so beautiful. I saw Tarrand reach for the control box and gave a shake of my head. He shrugged.

"So Palas, what are you?"

His eyes locked on mine. His chest rose and fell, and he licked his lips.

"A stallion."

I laughed now. His defiance was admirable, if unsettling.

"We shall see...Tarrand, let us get him prepared."

The slavemaster seemed to come out of a trance then, and shook himself all over from his head to his tail. With a gesture, and a confused look at me, he led the stallion towards the service quarters. I followed, watching our new "guest worker" from behind. My smile grew larger with each step.

He was barely clad, like all the savages. Leather straps on his biceps, a leather belt and a loincloth in grey fabric were his only adornment, apart from a simple strip of cloth in his mane, green and white. I could see the movement of his muscles under his coat as he walked, the easy flex and relaxation of his back, and most of all his rump under the loincloth. It looked wonderful, plump but taut from what I could see, and his long flowing white tail swished easily and distractingly from side to side.

His ears swivelled as he walked, and it was clear he still had me in his mind. Every now and then he turned his head one side or the other, and I caught sight of his eyes moving to regard me with uncertain anger.

When we reached the great bath house, I could see him relax. He thought he was safe for now at least, and the big marble bath would be a welcome luxury for a barbarian stallion used to the rivers of his lands as the only means of getting clean. It was clear he needed it from the smell, thick with sweat and musk. Personally I felt it was a pity to lose that, but I knew my fellow felines would not agree.

There were things to be done first however.

"Halt horse."

He stopped under a portico beside the pool, and turned to stare at me quizzically. The expression on Tarrand's face was no less bemused.

"Tarrand, bring the chains, and then the Tarvoi lash..."

"My Lord!"

His astonishment matched his disapproval. I gave him a withering stare and he subsided, for now, muttering. He eyed me again, and this time there was fear, and maybe disgust. At least there was also some grudging respect, and I would take the latter and ignore the rest.

The horse stood impassively, looking round his new world. His tail flicked slowly, and I watched it with growing hunger.

Presently my slavemaster returned, and he was shaking a little.

"Tarrand, string him up."

The horse went to resist, and got another burst from the collar for his pains. Tarrand gave him a kick for good measure, and I saw a different side to my distant cousin. I knew the type, weak and useless, but when forced to do things they disliked, could take out their frustrations on the helpless. It seemed I had found his trigger after all. It would be interesting to see whether it lasted through what was to come.

He managed to get the thin but immensely strong chain attached to the anchor point that hung from the ceiling. He then used it to bind to a pair of shackles, and fastened those to the stallion's wrists. Palas managed to recover from his pains sufficiently to watch this process dully, even when he felt the embrace of metal on his wrists.

"Lift him up...just enough to leave his hooves on the floor."

The slavemaster obeyed, pulling on the chains until the stallion was stretched upright, his exquisite body now taut and muscles standing out for attention.

I unfastened the tie on his loincloth, and then undid his belt, and tossed the filthy items to one side. His resentment was still strong, and I ignored it for now, and instead ran my paws over his flesh in sign of ownership. He struggled but could not deny me, and I enjoyed the process of owning his skin so much.

His pectorals felt especially fine to me. My last lover was a strong and beautiful cat, and his chest always entranced me, the flutter of his pectorals under my tongue and under my paws so delightful but they were nothing compared to this stallion. Such strength and power, and so useless all the same.

My exploration continued down his torso, and I outlined each abdominal with a clawed fingertip, then finally reached his sheath.

"Drop for me..."

He shook his head and closed his eyes. I enjoyed what I could any way, running one fingertip along the very tip of his sheathlips and dipping inside to find his penis throbbing just below the opening. He was struggling well, but failing I could tell. His cock jerked and swelled, and I could feel the slick touch of precum when I ran a fingertip across his urethra. Bringing my paw to my muzzle I tasted his essence and meowed as the taste filled my mouth.

Cupping his scrotum I looked him in the eye again. Wide and blue, they blazed with heat. I think mine blazed as strongly, with something perhaps a little different.

"So beautiful...I wonder why one like you was sent away. Any guesses stallion?"

"Damn you cat...damn you all..."

I squeezed his scrotum, letting my clawtips dig into his flesh. He bit his tongue to stifle a scream and still stared at me.

"The Tarvoi lash Tarrand."

It felt good in my paw. I had not had occasion to use it yet, but I had seen it used before. A superficially innocuous weapon, with a metal handle leading to a number of what appeared to be soft silken threads. They looked opaque and white for now, and I let them hang down towards the floor. They were about a metre long, and looked like strands of fine glass.

"Listen well horse. This is a punishment normally reserved for the worst of your kind, and those soon to die for their crimes. Think of it as a mercy from me; I am going to teach you obedience before you do something that will leave us both with no choice."

The control switch was easy enough to find even for a novice. I turned it on, and the strands suddenly came to life, glowing red and dull. I twisted the knob to its final setting, and they changed through orange and yellow to a pure, painful white. The stallion watched, fascinated and not yet terrified, and the slavemaster looked like he might vomit.

Walking behind the stallion, I eyed up his back and his magnificent rump. I knew where to strike first.

It required no force, no skill, nothing but will really. I lifted the lash and brought the soft strands down against his rump. His whole body seemed to shake then, and his muscles heaved, and he pulled against his bonds so strongly I thought he might break free. Then he screamed.

"Direct nerve induction horse, something your primitive kind will never develop even in many centuries. I am told it is like the burn of a thousand whip strokes, the sharp ache of hot iron, and the agony of a lightning strike all in one. And it does no actual harm to your beautiful flesh, so you do not need to heal, at least in body. In mind though...well..."

I worked him over without pause and without mercy. His screams were beautiful as his body, and sweat poured off him to drip on the stone. Tarrand did vomit then, discretely, and I watched him with absolute contempt but did not stop. It became a game to see where I could touch and draw the most reaction.

The answer was obvious of course. Standing behind him, I reached out to fondle his scrotum gently, caressing the skin. So different to mine, and to my love, no fur to mar its texture just pure silken skin and so large. I hefted it and felt the heat sublime.

"Please..." it was a gasp.

One touch of the lash broke him. I swung the strands of light upwards, between his legs, kissing his heavy sac and his whole body convulsed. He hung limp then.

I looked at Tarrand, his eyes on stalks, and turned off the lash. Its light dimmed to nothing, just opaque glass, and I handed it to the slavemaster.

"Get some attendants, and lets get him in the pool."

He came to from the touch of water, and he shuddered and tried to shrink away but I held his wild mane until he calmed.

"Palas, believe me when I say this, I hope never to have to do this to you again."

He did not seem to believe me, and perhaps I did not believe it myself. The sight of his body wracked with pain had been too enjoyable for me to deny myself indefinitely. Perhaps not the Tarvoi lash though...not for a long time.

The lash had done it's work though. His ears were down, flat to his skull, and though he could stand unsteadily, his whole body had changed. His tail was right down between his legs, his eyes were no longer so defiant, and his whole demeanour was much better. He knew his place now, and I also knew how to handle him. I had also learned more than I bargained.

"You are hard..."

It was true. Reaching for his sheath, expecting to have to order him again, instead I found him dropped. The touch of my paws seemed to have had an effect this time, or perhaps other things had too. This one would bear much study.

Using a sponge and some soap I washed his coat, removing the sweat and pain and replacing it with comfort. My hands caressed his body and he did not pull away, instead welcoming my attentions, and when I untangled his mane, I brushed him thoroughly and removed the knots with all the care I could muster. He seemed uncertain again though, and it was due to the ribbon I took from his mane, a tattered piece of green and white fabric.

"Something that matters to you stallion?"

He would not speak, that much I could see, and I gave him something for his obedience.

"I will return it to you horse. But first, we need you presentable."

With some urging I got him to stand at the edge of the pool and lean over. His rump was presented to me perfectly, but I was not going to take him yet, not entirely. I ran my hands over him of course, feeling the reaction when I parted his cheeks and let the sponge and then my fingers casually touch his cleft and the soft velvet skin of his perineum. His body shook again, and his ears lifted to twitch and swivel in mute testimony to the effect I was having on him. Even when I cupped his scrotum again, the touch very different to the touch of the lash, he merely shook but did not object. And his ears told me all I needed to know.

"My Lord..."

Looking up I saw the impatient guise of my slavemaster. He looked scandalised, and desperate to be elsewhere. I felt it was time to let him off the hook.

"Tarrand, go. I will take care of this slave's final preparations. You can return to your duties."

"But my Lord, he needs to be transferred to the barracks if he is to join the work gangs in the farm and..."

"Tarrand, I did not say he was to be sent to the barracks, now did I."

That shut him up, and his muzzle opened and closed a few times as he fought for something to say. Eventually he let out a meow of frustration.

"I am going to make him my personal servant Tarrand. He is to join my complement and serve me in any way I see fit."

"My Lord!"

"Yes I am, and don't forget it Tarrand."

I knew the insufferable waste of oxygen would be in my father's ear within the hour. Let him; my father would merely be pleased I was taking an interest, and what I actually intended he would not guess.

The stallion looked good properly dressed. I found a servant's uniform big enough for him in the stores, though it took some doing. The attendant was unable to stop staring at the stallion or me. I doubt she had seen one of the household in here in her lifetime. I liked the way I made her uncomfortable, it calmed me and managed for a while to make me feel less guilty about what I had done to the stallion. While it may be enjoyable to work off my anger at my father in such a way, it did leave an aftertaste of regret. There were ways to deal with that though.

He followed me readily now, though his surrounds clearly affected him. I caught him staring at the ceilings and the walls as we wandered through the compound heading for my quarters.

"Do you like it Palas?"

"It is...nothing like anything I have seen..."

"I imagine not. You barbarians have little wooden huts from what I have heard, and perhaps one large hall for your head stallion. Still, our comforts have their uses, as you will see."

When we came to my rooms, I made him stand and lay down on a couch myself, feeling the soft embrace of a rug made from the hide of one of the last wild Rucarian bulls from the herds on Calistan. It's texture was renowned amongst the planets of the kingdom as a byword for luxurious softness, but I smiled and shook my head. What those self same sybarites would do if they knew the silken touch of a stallion scrotum. Perhaps I would not be so alone then.

"Strip for me horse."

The fear was back it seemed, his eyes wide, ears down, nostrils flared. He obeyed though, mechanically but thoroughly. Off came the tunic with the crest of my house, off came the breeches that came down to his knees and left the expanse of his lower legs and fetlocks for me to admire with their white feathering. In the pool I had run my fingers through it and found it immensely enjoyable. I was so looking forward to seeing how it felt nicely dried.

While watching him expose every delicious inch of his body, I drank just as deeply of some wine. Its rich heat flowed through me, washing away the frustrations and anger as surely as the water cleansed my stallion. I even managed a couple of Gerenta fruit for good measure, feeling the kiss of my incisors on their flesh and the burst of juice that filled my muzzle with pure pleasure. Pleasure...how much we underestimate the need some times.

"Come here."

He shuffled forward, eyes wary, and stood before me. I handed him one of the priceless delicacies, which would probably cost more than his entire herd was worth.

It was amusing to watch him sniff it like it was some sort of poison, and then nibble delicately. His expression turned quickly from wariness to pleasure, and he gulped down the body of the fruit as greedily as any I had seen. I laughed at him and tossed him a second.

"For that I want something though stallion."

He seemed to understand my meaning. He took another step closer, and closed his eyes.

Now I took my time. His soft coat was beautiful, the texture of it quite unlike a feline. I rubbed it against the grain, something that would draw a meow of protest in one of my kind, but he merely twitched his tail and let out a sigh. His thighs were intriguing, the thick muscle so unfamiliar, as was the soft terrain of his feathering, but I could not resist my target for long.

This time when I touched his sheath, he dropped for me almost immediately. It swung out in front of me, a thick and immensely long mass of erectile flesh, so alive, black at the base, pink at the tip, and mottled in the middle. I ran fingertips over every inch and every colourful line and heard the sighs and groans build. Then I held his scrotum and this time squeezed so gently. His length swung up to slap his belly, and I watched as his flare grew and the thick urethra seemed to grow even larger.

"So different to us, you equines. Amongst my own kind this is forbidden, and yet with a slave...I wonder if any have tried to slake their curiosity before?"

"You own us, so why not..."

"Ahhh yes, you may not believe it horse, but we are supposed to have some standards."

"I have not seen it."

He got a hard squeeze on his scrotum for that, but beyond a slight whinny, he did not budge, and his cock seemed to sway and twitch. I smirked at him then; I knew. He would do nicely.

I rose from my couch, and then I saw the fear for the first time when I reached for his slave collar. But I had a surprise in store for him; instead of hurting him, I released him from it's grip. The metal latch disengaged, and I dropped the symbol of his debasement to the floor.

He looked at me now with a different eye, and his hands flexed and relaxed as thoughts ran through his brain. I could almost read them.

"You are wondering why I take the chance. Let me help you there horse. You swore the oath, and you know the cost. I trust you, even if you don't believe it. And I think you know you can be trusted too, even though it pains you to know it."

One flick of his tail was all he gave me, but he didn't step back, nor did he throw a punch. He just stood there, looking at me as if I was mad. Perhaps I was, but I no longer cared.

"Now horse, time for you to serve."

I used my paws on him then, guiding him to the bed in an alcove by the window. The light was bright now, and a warm breeze filtered into the room, along with the smells of spring on this planet, of flowers in bloom and fresh grass. He could smell them too, and perhaps they made him feel home enough, for he did not resist me. Laid out on my bed he looked sublime, and I took a moment to appreciate the view before I decide what to do.

"Grip your legs behind your knees and pull them up to your belly."

His eyes went wide, and he obeyed slowly and reluctantly, his tail flicking me as if trying to protect what he knew I would take. I was not to be so easily denied though; we were still predators my kind, and we knew how to take.

"Ohhhhh!"

There is something so special about the first time you taste another. He tasted not like any male I had before, but it was good. It was better than good. I started with his scrotum, finding the feel of that leather sac a wondrous surprise. He moaned in spite of himself, and his hooves twitched, and I suckled one massive testicle into my muzzle and let my incisors close on his fleshy orb and dig in just enough to make him feel it.

"Ahhhhh..."

The temptation to bite was strong, almost overwhelming, but I did not want to ruin such beauty, I wanted to savour it. Instead I licked, and then found the base of his cock buried in the place between his balls and licked and prodded before I turned my attentions to his perineum.

Looking up, I saw that he had turned his head to one side and closed his eyes tight in order to try and flee from what was happening. I gave him a laughing pat on the belly and returned to my adventures.

"Try that if you like horse, but it will only help you to feel what I am doing all the better."

Our little battle of wills was mine to win, and he knew it. His twitching cock told me the tale, as did his cry of purest delight when I found the rich vale of his pucker and spread him with my tongue. The heat was like the pools, if they had been filled with molten metal. I felt my tongue pained but licked him out anyway, wanting the taste of his funk almost as much as the sound of his cries and moans.

It was when I lay a paw on his cock that I knew I had him completely. He was harder than ever before, and he was leaking. I could feel the slick mass of his pre on my thumb, and I sank the claw into his urethra with a nice touch of malice that made him squeal but not break. He held his legs still, but his eyes were open now, and they glistened with tears.

I rubbed his flare, teasing him with my claws, and felt his heartbeat through his cock. It was like a rabbits it was going so fast, and I raked my claws down his shaft sinking in occasionally enough to draw blood. He remained hard as steel, and his pucker winked at me in invitation, one I could not deny.

Still fully clothed, I dropped my breeches just enough to release my aching length. The head was almost painfully swollen, and the barbs pulsed with blood. I could not even begin to say how much I needed this. Kneeling at his groin, with his legs now over my shoulders, I rested my tip on his perineum and teased, rubbing my leaking cock head over his sensitive length and watching the effect on his body. His scrotum bounced, and his pucker opened like a flower, and I saw the need in him even as I saw the pain. His tears were flowing freely, even as he moaned, and when I pressed the tip to his hole he closed them tight again waiting for the end.

"Open your eyes horse."

My green pools matched his blue. I pressed harder, and watched his expression as my head sank into him. No lubrication, no preparation but my tongue and spit and pre. This was the way, especially with a stud like this one, dry, rough, raw. He felt it too, I could see, even though he was determined not to show it. His eyes crinkled, and his ears went out sideways, and he gritted his muzzle but let no sound escape but a hiss. I rocked gently back and forward, feeling his tunnel, and the way it spread as he bore down to let me in as easily as he could.

The final piece of the puzzle, of course. A blushing virgin would clench down instinctively, and make it even more painful. This one knew how to take a male, and as I sank deeper into his tight tunnel, I felt him relax deliberately on each new thrust.

Half way in I leant over him and kissed him, tasting his muzzle and his tears. I licked them off his cheek and nuzzled his ear.

"So, tell me about your lover stallion."

"No!"

"Tell me..."

"No! AHHH!"

I bit his ear, and I sank in hard now, battering his tender hole, my barbs raking over his pucker as I drove into him and rasping over his prostate. He writhed under me, still under my control though, with his hands now gripping the sheets in claws of denial.

"Tell me...tell me...tell me who taught you to take a male and enjoy the pain and the roughness of it and want more anyway...tell me...TELL ME!"

"No...no...no...no...no...please...please...please..."

Every time he denied me I rammed in harder, and harder. I felt him spread, then split, the tender skin of his tunnel torn a little from the rough fucking and blood slicking the way as I made him regret his defiance. He unleashed the feral cat in me and I bit his neck, sinking into deep and tasting blood rich and metallic on my tongue as I fucked him without mercy and without restraint. His body was mine, his soul as mine, he was mine. The thought alone made me soar.

With a whinny I felt his body shake and his tunnel suddenly clenched down hard. I smelt it first, the tang of horse, essence of stallion. His ejaculation went on for longer than I expected, coating his chest with a thick layer of seed. I bent down and licked some off, tasting the sweet tang of it, first from his pectoral, then from his nipple. He hunger drove me wild, and I bit his nipple then, piercing him with an incisor and ripping all the way through his nub. More blood, so sweet and so full of life. His life; mine to use.

Muzzle to muzzle now I fucked him, pausing whenever I felt close, my furry scrotum resting on his pert ass. The feel of his cleft against my scrotum made me tingle all over, and I knew I could not last, and I began to fuck fast and hard, slapping my stones on his flesh hard enough to hurt. The pain was the best aphrodisiac of all.

At the last second he opened his muzzle and we were kissing. My tongue and his duelled for supremacy as my cock conquered his hole without quarter. I felt the building urge become unstoppable, and let out a roaring meow into his muzzle just as I filled his depths with my seed. When the euphoria subsided like the tide, I was resting on his chest. He helped me out of my shirt, and I felt the raw urgency of fur on fur, feline and equine, while his chest rose and fell with the harsh breaths of recovery.

And he was still crying.

"Balan."

"What?"

"Balan. My lover. The head stallion's colt."

He closed his eyes and seemed to sigh a sigh that came from his belly.

"Ahhh that would explain things, yes. So his father sent you away as tribute to get rid of you."

"Yes."

"You horses are barbarians after all."

His eyes blazed then, and I felt momentarily stupid for having removed his collar, but I recovered my composure quickly. After all, I was still buried to the hilt in his ass. Still, I had thought his defiance had been conquered. It seemed not yet.

"Maybe we are cat. But tell me; who is the lover you have lost?"

"What...what..."

"I can see it too. Horses know."

I had to give him credit for that.

"Perceptive...and perhaps not as dumb as I thought. An even more worthy conquest."

"If that is how you see me."

I pulled out roughly, making him wince but not cry out. My cock was like steel, coated in the slick remains of cum and a fine dusting of blood. It pulsed like a demonic thing, and it wanted.

"How else could I see you horse?"

I stripped, naked as he was now. Straddling his muzzle, I gripped his mane and ignored his look of dumb insolence and fed him my length. That is what you are horse; the one I fuck, and the one who I feed my cock so he can taste his own defilement.

"Suck well stallion...oh so well..."

He did. His lips were like angels on my shaft, and I fucked his muzzle roughly like his hole, not caring if the barbs hurt him. Reaching back I felt his length and knew he liked it anyway; he was leaking and so hard I thought his cock would break.

"Suck well..."

He brought me to the edge, and on the brink I pulled out of his muzzle and left a little trail of precum dripping from his lips. Laughing like a maniac I sat on his muzzle then and drove my ass onto him and made him lick me and then tongue me out and felt the rasp of a thick stallion tongue so far inside me he found my prostate and I almost saw stars when he began to lick me there.

By the spirits of our ancestors, I ached.

"Hold very still horse."

Now his eyes blazed with something else again. I straddled his length, and pressed his flare to my pucker. It had been a week, no more, and yet I felt it was more like a year.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

By my whiskers he was huge. I almost could not take it, but eventually the flare sprang past my opening and I felt the incredible fullness of a stallion. It took all my control not to whimper.

"Do not move stallion..."

"Of course...sire..."

Ahh that dumb insolence. He would need a fresh dose of the Tarvoi lash soon, I could feel it.

I rode him gently, gingerly, but well. Using only a few inches, which was more than enough, I found perfection when his flare rubbed over my prostate and I used him like a toy to bring myself off three times more, splashing my seed all over his dark brown coat. He was feeling it too, I could tell, his orgasm building but never quite peaking. His eyes were wide with need, and I just smiled down into them enjoying his suffering.

When my ass could take no more, I decided to be merciful of a sort. Muzzle to his shaft I licked slowly up, until I found his flare. One last challenge, one last mark to leave on him. I sank an incisor through his flare, while his screaming whinny made my ears burn. Then he came, everywhere, and I tasted horse again and lapped it all up like milk.

For some reason, resting in his arms, I found myself talking.

"His name is Vacorin, and he is a prince of the realm. Second in line to the throne, he comes here to show the flag on behalf of the King and to break my heart. When he left the last time, it was to be married to a useless minor noble with money the King happens to need, and I am not to have him again."

"Is that what made you so cruel, cat?"

He got a smile then, and a kiss.

"No horse, I made me that way. And one day, perhaps soon, I will tie you to this bed and put a blindfold on you, and I will hold the Tarvoi lash over your beautiful body and touch you anywhere and everywhere I want. Your magnificent scrotum, this heavy cock of yours, your flare, your belly, your chest, perhaps even your well used pucker already spread wide by a stallion. And I will bring myself off listening to your screams then fuck your limp body until you beg me to end it. That is who I am horse."

"And you call us the barbarians."

That defiance. I had to admit, it made me ache, mostly from the thought of what it might make me do to him.

"Perhaps, horse."

Reaching for a side table, I brought out something that may at least please him. His eyes sparkled, seeing the little scrap of green and white ribbon. I tied it into his mane, and he relaxed for the first time. I kissed his chest, and he did not pull away.

"At least you will not think we are entirely without honour."

"Perhaps, cat."

I fell asleep with a wide grin and dreamt of pleasures unknown while a wild horse ran under me over an endless field of green.