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Day 4 - Musk/Scent

"My guilty pleasure"

By Patrick D. Lambert

Commissioned by Sanmer

18:30. The Golden Horn went ahead with the regular patrol across Sector 4 of Capitol City. A mighty unicorn, blessed with super strength and the ability to shoot a beam of concentrated energy from his golden spiral crowning the top of his forehead, flew peacefully over the streets and through narrow alleys. Eyes like emeralds surveilled with detail his surroundings, his vision empowered by the special visor that offered detailed information about what he was seeing.

Kids and teenagers waved as he passed, greetings he returned with elegance and passion. Their smiles and giggles, the hope in their eyes from seeing their hero, that and more were the fuel that kept him fighting every day.

He stood out among the many other heroes from Capitol City. While his powers weren't as fabulous as the rest--most heroes had the ability to fly or possessed some level of strength and endurance--, it was his charisma and personality that made Golden Horn so unique.

Attired in a black-striped blue spandex suit, flexible so it didn't hinder mobility and strong to resist bullets and explosions, his presence evoked hope and fear, depending on which side you were on. A chiseled body that inspired many to work out and that had been the star of many fantasies. And to top it all, the large and silky white mane gave him that touch of elegance and sensuality. It was a dream come true.

That's what made him stand out when a peculiar sight forced the stallion to stop at a dirty and dark alley. His eyes caught a dirty rat ogling from above a wooden fence at a group of basketball players on the other side. An already creepy act made worse by the obvious motion of his right hand, and the way his tongue hung out from one side of his large muzzle.

Golden Horn descended slowly, a beacon of hope and strength purifying with his presence the dirtiest of all places. The rat didn't notice his presence right away, more focused on the sweaty and athletic young adults running on the field. His clothes hadn't been washed in days, with the baggy pants covered in patches from other colors. The left hand held the trousers from falling down, while the right one jacked off his fat cock. The leather jacket was the only garment covering his chest, with stains of dry blood, dirt, food, and who knows what else.

The smell wasn't as disgusting as the loud and dirty huffs he threw while seeing the players. Golden Horn frowned at him, his hooves splashing on the puddles of stagnant water from the rain of that morning. Only then did the rat acknowledge his presence. But rather than a fearful look or the draw of a threatening gun, as many other thugs had reacted in the past, the rodent kept his dirty smile and even widened for him.

"Oh, Golden Horn! What a surprise!" He said, then immediately went back to stalk over the players. "Did you come here to watch too? This is my favorite spot."

The high-pitched voice was already annoying to his ears, but the lack of interest in his presence was what drove the stallion mad. He stood forward, ready to put an end to his filthiness.

"Are you aware that what you're doing is a cri-?"

"Shh, shh, shh, I'm almost done," the rat interrupted.

The speed of his hand increased. The skinny legs twitched, and he threw quick and desperate huffs. While his slender tail screwed, the rat reached an intense climax on which he painted the wooden fence with disgusting ropes of white, thick-looking cum.

Golden Horn cringed at the show. Yet he couldn't move his eyes away from the throbbing cock as the rat emptied his balls. Such a blatant disrespect froze even the most valiant hero.

"Oh lord... they meet here every three days... three days in this field... and I'm here every three days to watch them," the rat told him between huffs and moans.

"What are you saying?" The stallion clenched both fists. His attitude got to his nerves incredibly fast. Or maybe it was just the disgusting alley from which he wanted to get out as soon as possible.

"They sometimes forget a towel or their socks... oh the musk. I love the musk! You might love it too!"

It was such his disgust that Golden Horn didn't react when the rat jumped off the box he was standing on. And the stallion, already close to the rat, couldn't move away to evade the cum-stained hand from landing on his abs. The reek paralyzed him while the hobo rat smeared cum all over the spandex suit, all while looking at him with crazy eyes and his tongue out.

"I bet you stink too, Mr. Golden Horn. Wearing this suit all day should make you sweat a lot. Yes. Yes. What I would give to lick your pits, Mr. Golden Horn."

"Get away from me!"

The stallion reacted before those skinny fingers landed on his crotch. A gentle push was all it took to send the rat down among laughs and a sick cough. The rodent fall on his ass, and laying on the ground, he cleaned his fingers in an overreacted way that was supposed to look erotic.

"You're clearly a sick person, but I'll let it pass this time, as long as you don't appear here ever again."

His threat had little to no effect on the rat, who let his baggy pants fall down while he stood up. The flaccid cock swung left and right between his legs, with a string of cum hanging from the tip. A childish giggle ended what was left of the stallion's patience, who flew away from the alley, leaving behind the disgusting rodent.

"Three days, Mr. Golden Horn. Every three days."

What a horrendous person, exactly the kind of scum Capitol City didn't need. But the Golden Horn was a beacon of hope and peace. Unlike some vigilantes, he wouldn't act violently unless needed. The rat, as disgusting as it acted, wasn't an immediate threat, if not a mere victim of a system heroes alone couldn't fix.

But that encounter marked the end of his patrolling. The stallion went back home, knowing the city was safe for another day.

By the time he got back home, the cum stain had dried. It was only a whitish spot on the blue spandex. The stallion, completely naked in the laundry room, took a look at it without hiding his disgust. Just the memory of his tiny hand over his body sent shivers down his spine, but it was the unconscious act of smelling the stain that made the stallion retch violently. The strong musk burned his nostrils. The suit fell from his hands while he ran to drink some water.

Why did he do that? The sick giggle played in his head while he questioned the stupidity of an unconscious act. The way his hands moved alone to press the sweaty spandex against his nose; the deep breath that filled his lungs with the potent smell of his cum. None of that was a natural reaction. He should've felt disgust and hate, not curiosity.

He poured himself a glass of wine to wipe from his mouth the awful taste the smell left, then relaxed for the rest of the night while the washing machine cleaned the dirt from his sweat. Tomorrow will be another day.

An oddity took place the following morning. Golden Horn went out with the usual routine, with a couple of intense fights and one chase through the highway. Usually, that should have been enough to keep his mind busy. But as the day went by, the stallion only had one thing in mind, and one only.

The rat giggling with that mocking, defying smile, his dirty clothes hanging poorly from his skinny body, his flaccid cock swinging between his legs, with that string of cum threatening to fall at any minute. And his smell. The strong, intoxicating smell coming from that stain in his precious spandex suit.

It continued flashing in his mind over and over again. And it became stronger as the day went by. Golden Horn put his focus on something else, begging for anything interesting enough to keep him distracted. But the reek of the rat's cum remained there, at the end of his nose, like an itch he couldn't scratch. And the more he smelled it, the more he imagined himself back at the alley, face to face with the dirty rat, his devious eyes pointing down at the fat, stinky cock...

He patrolled the city unconsciously looking for the rodent. He didn't realize that until he landed in the same alley where he found it the day before. What had got into his mind? A sonorous, strong slap snapped him out of the trance. And the stallion left the place and finished patrolling for the day, hoping a glass of wine would clear his mind from this disgusting, heinous wish.

Much to his disgust, it got worse the next morning. The reek had got attached to his mind. He couldn't get it out, and even a shallow breath felt like a deep one taken straight from that whitish stain in the suit.

A guilty pleasure was the best way his conflicted mind came up with to describe it. Just as shameful but delightful like smelling your fingers after scratching your balls, the stallion became a victim of this unbearable wish, even reaching the heights of taking off his suit in a secluded alley just to check if it still had touches of the rat's cum.

If the suit still had the stink on it or his brain tricked him, it didn't matter, for the stallion jerked off furiously until he shot a bucketful of cum in what was one of the strongest orgasms of his life.

To his dismay, this act only strengthened his wish to find the rat. And that's when he reminded his words:

"...they meet here every three days... three days in this field... and I'm here every three days to watch them."

Tomorrow would be the third day. The horny stallion only had to wait one more day.

What he didn't expect was the internal conflict that began from that moment. His disgust over the dirty rodent against the guilty pleasure the reek was. The stallion asked himself what kind of hero that would make him. There was no honor in such a devious, sinful act. It would turn him into a mock of himself and every other hero of Capitol City. And still, his cock throbbed hard against the tight spandex suit, forming a visible bulge that obliged the stallion to stop frequently to jerk off anywhere. Puddles of unicorn cum were later found in alleys, parking lots, and rooftops.

That awful desire was tearing his mind apart. He couldn't eat. He couldn't fight. He couldn't do anything else but want to shove his face under that dirty, musky, reeking ballsac and remain there forever...

And then, the day finally came. The shaky stallion didn't patrol that day. He couldn't get inside his suit. His cock was too hard, too wet to get it in. And every time he jerked off, the smell only became stronger and stronger, until it was almost like being there, right in front of him. But not quite. Not yet. He needed the real thing.

18:30. Some people reported seeing a flying unicorn dressed in sweatpants and a black tank top. Many gasped at the sight of Golden Horn dressed as a civilian for the first time ever. Kids and teenagers waved at a desperate stallion who flew past them without even throwing a glance at them. The adults, on the other hand, looked away horrified, convinced the stallion had a throbbing erection pushing against his pants.

Golden Horn landed in the secluded alley. The rat was there, standing in the same wooden box. His left hand held the baggy pants. The right hand squeezed his fat, musky cock. But the rat wasn't looking over the fence. His golden eyes followed the stallion's landing, the smile as wide and sick as in their first encounter.

"Oh, Mr. Golden Horn, I was afraid you wouldn't come, but it looks like you really liked the show."

His childish giggle said otherwise. The rat knew of his arrival. He had been there, waiting with his cock out, just for him.

"Wanna look at the players with me? They are so sweaty and musky. You can smell them from here. You can even taste it."

The mocking tone was referring to something else. While he spoke, the rodent waved his cock around, calling him with it. The apparently clean aspect didn't hide the potent smell that was emanating from those balls hanging heavily between his legs. It swung left and right, tempting the horse with its putrid, rancid, intoxicating, musky, delicious, taste.

"Or... is something else what you came looking for, Mr. Hero?"

The baggy pants fell down, and the rat kicked them away. He only held with his toes the white briefs with a semi-transparent stain on the crotch. A swift move sent the underwear from his feet to his left hand, from which he then pressed it against his nose. The deep breath he took from it bristled the grayish fur and set his tail straight while the rest of his body squirmed.

"Ohhhh, you can't imagine how good this stink is. So strong. So masculine. Sweat and cum mixed. It's delicious."

The rat went as far as to lick the cloth, just another temptation to break the stallion's mind.

Golden Horn fought with each step taken. The pressure in his chest warned him of the danger the rat truly was. His devious, sickening smile was not from the regular thug. There was more behind it. A certain familiarity long forgotten. A memory secretly locked in the confines of his mind.

But the need... the craving for his musk. The unicorn couldn't resist that kind of urge...

"Don't be afraid, Mr. Hero. It will be our little secret. No one needs to know."

The rat wiped the sweat from his balls with the musky underwear, looking to improve an already intense smell. It acted as an incentive to an already trembling unicorn, whose sweat pants fell down on the dirty ground of the alley, revealing his enormous flared cock, with the tip covered entirely on pre.

"Wanna taste the source first? I'm pretty sure you're gonna love it."

Golden Horn surrendered his honor with a nod. Hunched before the rat, he hid his nose under his sweaty, musky balls, and took a deep breath to fill his lungs. The smell acted like a drug in his brain, sending thousands of signals to the entire body. It was a tingle and a shiver that ran from head to toe over and over and over again. It burned his nostrils and made him shed tears from his emerald eyes. His cock throbbed furiously, with pre coming out of it very similarly to an orgasm.

The rat passed his fat, wet cock all over his face while the stallion, deprived of any honor or dignity, continued sniffing at his balls. More and more and more and more. With each breath, the effect became stronger. It was salty and overwhelming, the kind of smell that stays with you no matter how hard you try to get it off.

"Smells good, right? I made it just for you, Mr. Hero."

But the stallion didn't care. He heard the rat's voice, the traffic from outside the alley, the screams and calls from the players at the other side of the fence. And the only thing he cared about was the smell. The intoxicating smell of his balls was reaching deep inside his brain with each breath he took. It was addictive. Delicious. Indispensable.

And the only thing that stopped the unicorn was the strong pull from his horn that forced him to get up. His face was a mess the rat swiftly cleaned with his musky underwear. And while not as good as the smell coming off his balls, the cloth still had that delicious touch that left him craving for more.

"Hold it there, Mr. Hero. Let me do something for you that I haven't done in a long time."

The rat jumped off his box. He was at the perfect height to please the stallion without having to kneel or lean down. And that's what he did. While he couldn't take it completely inside his mouth, the skinny fingers and talented tongue did the job better than anyone else. He smeared the pre all over his length, leaving no spot clean. Then, with care and desire, began to massage the 15 inches of throbbing equine meat. His large tongue licked and wrapped around his girth, touching every sensitive spot. Every pulsing vein. Every inch of pinkish flesh.

"Keep breathing, Mr. Hero. Keep breathing as you feel this intense pleasure."

And that's what the stallion did. He pressed the dirty underwear against his nose and breathed as deep as he could, filling his lungs and infecting his body and blood with the reek of that rat. It was a shock of pleasure after another, every single wave tied to the smell. The delicious, intoxicating, enervating smell of his dirty underwear.

His cock throbbed more and more, covering the rat in the thick pre. But the rodent didn't care for such an insignificant detail. It was a reward for him, proof he was doing a good job, and that his musk was working the way it was intended. So he giggled, his eyes focused on the zonked unicorn who had got addicted to his smell.

Golden Horn saw the players running on the field, at the other side of the fence. They were oblivious to what was taking place mere feet away from them. It was an exciting thought. Like the many times he jerked off in public places, sniffing the suit and painting walls with his thick equine cum. And it was exciting to be there, being served by a homeless, dirty rat, while his lungs filled with the addictive smell of his underwear.

It was exciting.

It was addictive.

It was everything he wanted in life.

"Keep breathing. Keep filling yourself with my scent. Let my mark inside you."

His perception evolved. The more the smell spread across his body and mind, the more memories changed. Concepts like honor, dignity, morality, and many more got stained with the strong musk. His memories. His adventures. His achievements. The meaning of his career lost all relevance. The rat had taken over his life. And with each breath of fresh musk, it grew more and more inside him.

And then he came. A strong, shameless, loud climax that caught the players' attention. Golden Horn didn't pay any attention to the disgust and cringe visible in their eyes, as they only looked for a moment before walking away from the place, muttering insults to that creep. They only saw his head, and not the grayish rat whose face and chest had been completely painted in white from the bucketful of cum the stallion shot over him.

His body squirmed violently. His moans quickly turned into whines. And the climax engraved the musk deep into his mind. Many complex schemes had been put in motion by other villains to stop the Golden Horn, and the one who succeeded was a homeless rat and his musky underwear.

Minutes later, the defeated unicorn left the scene, leaving behind a dirty rodent doing what he could to clean the cum out of his body. And while he flew back home, his mind zonked and his eyes still displaying a grayish spiral, the rat's words repeated in his head over and over again.

"Take my underwear. Sniff it every day. Sniff it when you wake up. Sniff it when you take a rest. Sniff it while you're patrolling. And sniff it before going to bed. But most importantly, sniff it while you're jerking off. The only source of pleasure comes from my smell. Take deep breaths. Feed from it. It will make you stronger. It will make you better. And it's all thanks to me. We'll meet here every third day. I'll give you fresh underwear every third day. I will be your guilty pleasure."