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The most anomalous thing about it was that, for junk mail, it was quite tastefully done. No lurid colours, no splashy "SPECIAL INTRO RATES !!!!" screaming at him from the page. Instead, spare, almost severe lettering in an elegant font read "West Country School of Riding and Dressage", and below that, "Whitchurch". The narrative described the services available and fees charged, and at the bottom was a detachable section which read, "This voucher may be redeemed for one free lesson. Please present when making your appointment."

A male voice had answered the phone when he'd called to make the appointment, and his mind's eye supplied an image to go with it - thin-faced, a waxed mustache, probably calling himself 'Colonel' and a snooty air toward uppity commoners. That triggered his rebellious streak and instead of his usual smart attire, he opted to rig himself out in the grungiest neo-punk outfit he could put together.

Two hours later, he'd arrived at the school and his initial supposition seemed confirmed. It was a country estate, complete with long, sweeping drive up to a properly feudal manor house; the requisite peacocks strolling about the lawn as if they owned the joint; statuary, fountains, gardens, the lot. He could almost smell the pretension and disdain for the lesser orders. The capstone was the figure who met him, dressed in tweeds, with a pipe tucked in one corner of his mouth - and the not-quite-competely concealed look of surprise and scorn for the neko in grungy jeans, Grateful Dead t-shirt and scuffed Doc Martins.

"Mr. Fry, I presume?", and Tobi nodded. "That's me."

Here it comes, Tobi could hardly wait. 'Colonel' Whatsit, Master of the Hunt or whatever. But then the snooty figure departed from the script.

"Lady Rhiannon is waiting for you at the stables, around to the left. Follow me, please."

Lady Rhiannon? Well... a lesson was looking much, muchmore promising. Unless she was some hag or ancient bag of bones... but that couldn't be, could it? Riding took a certain amount of physical stamina and health. Still, she could be a dragon of some kind - he thought of the character of 'Marge' from the third Harry Potter movie. With his luck, that's what was waiting for him.

Curious, he strolled around to the left, following the... majordomo? butler? whatever. The drive meandered slightly, the landscaping so arranged that by the time they arrived at the stables, the manor was concealed from view. "Her ladyship will be with you momentarily," his guide informed him, gesturing toward a bench by the stable doors. "If you will excuse me..." Jeeves or whatever he was faded off down the drive, back toward the mansion.

Tobi parked himself on the bench, his legs stretched in front of him, hands clasped behind his head. This was certainly turning out more interesting than he'd though it would, and the setting was gorgeous - a gentle, rolling landscape, marked off by fences and here and there, low stone walls that had probably been there since the Romans ran the country. A couple of horses were - well, horses didn't stroll, he guessed, but they were walking in a very relaxed manner - ambling? ambling about in a paddock about half a mile away, tails swishing lazily behind them. His attention was diverted as a creaking sound and footsteps sounded beside him.

"Hel-lo!" he said before he could stop himself. His instructor was an anthro mare, though not the normal type; more like himself. She looked thoroughly human except for the equine ears poking through her hat, and her face - the only part of her skin he could see - was covered with a fine, fine coat of rich chestnut hair. Two bright, emerald-green eyes met his with cool composure, and the corners of her chocolate lips quirked in a slight smile. She was attired in traditional riding garb - black jacket, white johdpurs, gleaming cavalry boots, and in one hand she carried a riding crop. At her throat she wore a white scarf and he could see that under her jacket she was wearing a lace-trimmed blouse in a pale mint-green. The overall effect of her ensemble was strikingly elegant and incredibly sexy; the jacket was cut tightly, outlining her bosom, and the johdpurs might have been painted on.

"Mr. Fry?" Her voice was a warm soprano with a sensual, slightly husky note under the crisp Oxonian accent. "I'm Rhiannon, the riding mistress." Her green eyes looked him over, from his red-black locks through which feline ears poked, down his white-furred face, and he suddenly wondered if the grunge rocker look had been the best idea he'd ever had. Still, she was smiling a bit more; evidently his lean-but-muscular look was making up for the GD t-shirt. "Before we begin, have you any previous riding experience?"

"Um, no," he answered. "Well, unless you count donkey rides at the fair."

She chuckled softly. "I think I'll discount that, Mr. Fry," she said, holding out her gloved hand. "In that case, why don't you come with me and we'll find you a suitable mount for your first lesson?"

"Call me Tobi," he answered as he took her hand.

"Very well, Tobi," she smiled in response. "In that case, please feel free to call me Rhiannon."

Taking her hand, he followed her into the warm dimness of the stable. It didn't seem at all odd that this elegant woman - very much the lady of her title - should offer to hold his hand. Her other hand gestured at the stalls as they strolled down the centre aisle. "I run a stud service as well," she told him, "and these are the stallions here."

"I see," he observed. The stallions whickered a little, moving away from the gates, some of them rolling their eyes as the pair passed. "What's over here?" he asked, pointing to some enclosed areas opposite the stallions' stalls.

"Tack room, equipment room, breeding room," she replied, then laughed at his expression. "No, I don't breed the mares in that room; that's just where I keep the breeding equipment - artificial vaginas, cleaning supplies, that sort of thing."

As the pair passed the second-last stall, the stallion within - "Al-Fahl" according to the engraved brass plaque on the stall door - snorted suddenly, then whinnied and reared. Tobi jumped, startled, but Rhiannon just stopped and look at the stallion. "Now that will be quite enough of that!" she said sharply. The stallions in the stalls either side of Al-Fahl seemed to cringe, their ears laid back as they moved into the corners farthest away from the rearing, bugling stallion. Al-Fahl didn't seem to get the message; he reared again, his teeth bared in challenge, and Tobi had an excellent view of his nether quarters, where his penis had partly unsheathed and was bobbing arrogantly between his legs.

"I do apologize, Tobi," she said, keeping an eye on the aroused stallion. "I'm afraid I can't leave this unattended, but I won't be very long. If you would oblige me by going down the wing there, to the left past the last stall, you'll find the school's riding mares and geldings there. If you'd care to make friends with them, I'll be with you directly."

"Sure, no problem, Rhiannon," he answered. He let go her hand and strolled around the corner into the wing, and behind him she remonstrated with the ornery beast. "You don't seem to realize who's in charge here," she said, and he chuckled a bit. Elegant and lady-like she was - and drop-dead sexy, too, but there was no question in his mind that she ran things with a firm hand here. Neither man nor beast would get away with much from her.

The stallion's whinnying faded behind him as he strolled down the wing. In contrast to the stallions, the mares were quite friendly, most of them looking over their stall doors, their large, liquid eyes warm and friendly. The geldings were a little more skittish, some of them dancing away from him in their stalls, others coming to whicker softly. He stopped time and time again to stroke their velvety muzzles as they nuzzled him, hoping he might have a treat in the form of sugar or carrots.

He was about halfway down the aisle, scratching a mare named "Jenny" behind her ears when he hard an unmistakably equine scream from the other wing. Not a whinny - this was a scream of fear. Immediately he thought of the elegant lady - had the wild stallion broken free, injured her? Another scream resounded and now the mares and geldings were moving about nervously, shying away from their doors. He ran back up the aisle to the main wing, determined to save the elegant lady instructor, then skidded to a halt.

Those equine screams hadn't come from her... not at all. They had come from Al-Fahl. The stallion was kneeling on the floor, hobbled in the middle of the aisle, his proud neck outstretched, his muscles taut. His ears were laid back, his teeth bared as another scream broke from him... and behind him was Lady Rhiannon. Her eyes were closed, her teeth bared - like a stallion's, the thought flashed through his mind - and her johdpurs were collapsed over the top of her boots, revealing strong thighs rising up, fading from cream to chestnut. Her silky auburn tail flicked behind her taut, well-muscled chestnut ass - and her hands were gripping the stallion's haunches while shi bucked wildly, breasts bouncing, thrusting powerfully as she forced an enormous, black equine penis into the stallion's rectum.

"Now... get this... straight," shi hissed through hir teeth, "... I'm... the boss... stallion... here!" Tobi could only stare, amazed, as the woman - shemale, herm? - mounted the stallion, hir diminutive build next to him completely overset by the aura of dominance radiating like a blinding light from hir slim form. The stallion seemed to realize it finally as well; he visibly slumped as the chestnut horse-woman violated him mercilessly, hir massive schlong flexing deep in his hole, black balls slapping wetly against his rump with meaty smacks. Suddenly shi spasmed, a rictus of lust on hir face while a whinnying, triumphant scream broke from hir throat as shi jammed hirself in, hilting hir cock to the sheath in the stallion's ass, and shuddered, and the stallion whinnied again, higher, weaker... submissively. For a long moment shi straddled him, every muscle of hir body quivering while Al-Fahl whinnied again, and then a thick drool of goo spurted from his rectum, squishing out past the riding mistress's black shaft. Still shi twitched, and the spurt of semen became two, then four, then five, pooling on the floorboards.

With a deep, satisfied sigh, shi pulled out, hir withdrawal making a slurping, sucking sound. Tobi stood, stupefied, watching while hir black horse-penis slid out, inch after inch, the softening tool easily as big as the shaft he'd seen protruding from the stallion. Slick and gleaming with a coating of semen, it bobbbed obscenely between the chestnut columns of hir thighs, and the runnels of goo from Al-Fahl's hole, gaping from hir outsized cock, became a slow, thick gelatinous flood as hir spunk leaked out of him.

"Well, Tobi?" shi asked without turning. "I did ask you to go down the other wing for a reason."

"Uh... you're... you..." he stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. All he could do was stare at the dominated stallion lying supine on the stable floor and the proud-cocked equine woman standing over him, still dripping. You have a horse cock! seemed to be the most unnecessary thing he could say at the moment, closely followed by the next thought, you just fucked a horse in the ass!

Shi seemed to read his thoughts anyway. "I'm a hermaphrodite, Tobi," shi said, bending to pull one boot off, then the other. He couldn't help but notice the tempting curve of hir breasts partially hidden by hir open jacket, nor how hir softening cock bounced gently. "And yes, I fuck horses - I am one, after all." Shi kicked hir johdpurs off, then shrugged out of hir riding jacket. "I stand at stud myself, as well as providing stallions to service mares," shi went on as shi tugged hir blouse over hir head, letting hir chocolate-tipped breasts sway gently, "and I keep the stallions in line by dominating them, too."

Nervously he licked his lips, his whiskers twitching as the rich miasma of scents reached his sensitive nose. There was hay, equine sweat, the strong musk of the stallion, the lighter, more delicate scent of a woman, and a lighter but equally potent musk, stallion-like but unmistakably hirs. The scene had thrilled him, the scent building on that, and he could feel his jeans were becoming uncomfortably tight in the groin.

Shi turned hir back on the conquered stallion panting in his hobbles, hir green eyes glittering with ready lust. Slowly shi paced toward him, completely naked but for the white scarf, while hir unsheathed cum-stained cock swayed between hir thighs. Hir tongue flicked out, tracing along hir lips. "Kneel, Tobi," shi said softly, and without hesitation he heeded the note of dominance, of command in hir voice.

Legs apart, shi stood before him, hir she-stallion shaft arching out proudly, the silky skin glazed with hir semen. It seemed to beckon him... he leaned forward and almost of its own, his tongue flicked out, sampling the juices and flesh that were the source of the tantalizing aroma filling his senses. His head swam as he laved hir she-cock with hungry strokes, and from what seemed a great distance, he heard hir voice speaking again. "However, my dear, I don't fuck just horses... and I've wanted a stable cat for quite some time now. I think you'll do marvellously."

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