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Preface:

The first story in this series is based loosey (far looser than I intended) on a yiff Spark and I enjoyed a few months ago. I'm not one normally interested in restraint or rape, but that's just the way the story turn out to be realistic. Our yiff was far more mutual than the story portays. I want to thank Spark for the wonderful experience and also for his permission in posting this story.

Now that that's said, the sequential stories have NOTHING to do with Spark. :) I am using his name as the name of the herd's stallion, it has no relation to the real fur.

If you would like to suggest anything or revise part of my stories for more efficient and proper grammar, please feel free. I am horrible about revising my own work. :) Thanks, and enjoy!

Deacon the Paint Stallion

Contains m/m nonanthro scenes, must be of legal age to view. Constructive comments are welcome, [email protected] Enjoy!

The sun was shining, the grass waving in the soft breeze; overall it was a beautiful day. The young colt parting the tall grass disagreed. Deacon had just been "asked" to move out from the herd by the dominant stallion. The old gaffer had made his point abundantly clear after leaving several bite marks on his otherwise spotless white rump. He sighed, remember the smell of the first mare that was actually interested in him. She was shy, young, and naive, and had just come into her first heat. They had been friends since she was a little foal, just out of her dam. She had always followed him around and looked up to him as a guide, teaching her about life and how to deal with everything that he never had the benefit of learning ahead of time. So when she first had her urges, she hid them from the herd stallion. He was far too aggressive with his mares, putting a damper on her interest. But the colt's care and gentle nature brought it out in her that day. They had gone to the watering hole for a drink, and they had come across a snake. It was a harmless grass snake, but she didn't know any better. If Deacon had had one, she would have jumped right into his lap. He nickered to her, licking her shoulder trying to let her know it was all right. His soft kindness was mistaken by the young filly, and combined with her never before experienced hormones, she started to present herself to him. She leaned into him and squatted, her tail lifting and sweet urine splashed on the ground. Before Deacon could even react, the stallion sauntered down to get a drink himself, and came across them. Regardless to say, the colt was no longer welcome in the herd. He was just too old and mature, and was becoming a threat to the patriarch's stallionhood. It was just a matter of time anyway, his days were numbered once he became an adult, and the arbitrary age for that was a year ago already.

Deacon wandered around for a few days before finding the meadow, a safe place to stay and live until he found the roving bachelor herd and joined. His mood lifted when he saw the sweet grasses waving in the breeze, the weather picture prefect. He reached behind himself to scratch at one of his spots: the sun made his black patches warmer than his white patches, and it made for an interesting experience every day. He squinted up at the sun, his clear blue eyes taking in the beauty all around him. After checking the wind for predators, he finially put his head down to graze. The last few days were very stressful. He lost his best friend the filly, he lost his dam, and he lost the protection of his sire. All in all his life was upturned and ended as he knew it. It was time to find his own way, his own life.

The sun shone so strongly it set Deacon's mind at ease, and with a full stomach and no wants for the first time in days, he was able to relax. His attention waned, and his eyelids grew leaden, and he succumbed to the suns rays, tucking his legs under him and flopping ungracefully to the ground. Tall grasses hid his black and white body from view, and he drifted off to sleep.

He awoke instantly at the sound of chewing. Deacon jumped up in surprise, spooking the stallion eating grass not twenty feet away. Both horses leaped into the air, tails flying as they panicked.

Spark had been grazing not far from his band of mares, and had wandered off to look for better grazing. He was just satisfying his hunger and getting ready to head back when a set of black ears attached to a white head popped out of the grass twenty feet away. Spark was shocked: he had investigated the meadow twice before feeling it safe enough to relax in. His jet black body shook with nervous energy as he planted his hooves, poised to gallop off at a moments notice. His dark eyes opened wide as he struggled to identify the colt as friend or foe; his silver tail stood cocked at the ready.

Deacon snorted, his black tipped ears straight in the air as the whites of his eyes shown readily. The black horse in front of him was unfamiliar: had he run into the wrong herd's territory? He glanced back at his hindquarters and saw the distinct shape of a sheath between his legs. He started to panic, waiting for his second beating of the week, knowing he wasn't strong enough to outfight nor fast enough to outrun the full grown stallion. He didn't know what to do, and stood shock still waiting for the other horse's first move.

Spark didn't know what to think of the spotted colt standing in front of him. He relaxed, lowering his tail and loosening his stance, cocking his head at the intruder. He examined him closely, The colt, which was a loose term given his size and level of maturity, was rather large. His withers looked to be close to 16 hands high, which was taller than most of the horses in these parts. He was nicely muscled, and obviously well fed, so he couldn't have been from his own territory that he was forced to abandon due to lack of feeding grounds. He was obviously young and inexperienced; he still was standing tensed and panicked. Spark nickered softly and walked over slowly, his nose extended trying to sniff the other horse. Deacon tensed more, if such a thing was possible, and laid his ears back just a little. Spark was unimpressed, smiling to himself, and touched noses. Both stallions exchanged breath, trying to identify the other horse's scent. Spark couldn't place it, and started to examine him. His white blaze spread across his face, covering both eyes and his entire nose. He slowly walked around the colt, eyeing him. His coat seemed to be white, with large distinct black spots. They extended down his body and onto his legs. He nuzzled his pink sheath and was rewarded with a lifted hindleg. Spark snorted and pinned his ears at the young horse, who rooted to the ground and lowered his head in submission. Spark continued his examination, working his way around his hindquarters. He took a long sniff of the colts tail, realizing just how healthy he was. When he got around to the other side he nuzzled the colt's neck, letting him know that he wasn't a danger to him.

Deacon's heart was beating faster than ever before. Never before had another horse, other than his dam at foaling, ever examine him like this. He stood shock still, letting the older horse look all he wanted. When he nuzzled his sheath he lifted a leg in reflex to kick out, but held back when the threat was glared at him. He didn't know what to do, but strangely didn't feel threatened. This stallion wasn't doing anything to threaten him; in fact, memories started to surface of the foal he had adopted years ago. He had behaved the same way to that filly that this stallion was doing to him. When Spark seemed satisfied, he came back up to his head and nuzzled him. Deacon nickered in reply, excited to have found a new friend. Perhaps this was his entry into the bachelor herd! They turned to face each other, ears forward and eyes bright. Spark nickered softly and took a step forward and began to groom Deacon's withers. Deacon returned the favor, scratching the hard-to-reach spot carefully with his teeth.

Spark hadn't done this with another male in a long time, and if he accepted this colt into his herd he would need to make sure that he was the dominant one. He wasn't sure exactly what he should do to ensure this, but he did know that he enjoyed this new fellow's company.

Deacon sighed softly, satisfied he had found a friend in this cruel world. After a little while he wandered off to fill his stomach again. He looked up to see the black stallion grazing next to him, one eye watching. Spark looked up to see what the colt was worried about, and dropped his head back down when the spotted horse returned to his grazing, surprised and happy that there was someone watching out for him. Deacon returned to Spark's side, nickering happily at his new friend, and continues to groom him. Something in Deacon's mind hiccupped, and he found himself grooming his filly, the last horse he had fond memories of. He nickered and hurrumped almost in a whisper, but Spark herd it and knew what it meant. He paused his grooming to glance down at the thickening sheath, and knew how to impress his dominance on the young stallion, just like the way his mentor had put him in his place, years ago when he was taken in by a small herd. He nipped the colt hard, letting him know that he was no mare. Deacon started in surprise and realized what he had been doing. Spark took a few steps closer along side Deacon and nibbled on his rump, remembering how long it had been since he had bred on of his mares. His herd, while healthy, was not large. He couldn't afford to have more mouths to feed in the wasteland they had come from. His pent up energy started to leak out slowly as he began to nuzzle and nibble on the colt. His body was only a tiny bit larger than his own, making it just the right height to play with. None of his mares were built this well...

Deacon felt the teeth and breath on his croup and was surprised, but he knew that he was in no danger of being hurt. In fact, it felt really good. He couldn't bend himself that far to scratch, and it was making him think of all the mares he watched his herd sire mount. He did the same kind of thing, and those mares seemed to really enjoy it. Thinking about the mares he knew reminded him of his filly, and he again replaced Spark with her. His instincts took over and he started to return the favor to Spark, licking his tailhead and nuzzling his rump. Spark dropped his head to nuzzle at the colt's sheath, and took a few long breaths of his scent. His long neglected cock started to slip out of his body, lengthening and thickening.

The colt perked his ears up when he smelled something new, and looked the stallion's belly to see an ebony cock ease into the warm morning's air. He nickered in surprise, wondering what he intended to do with that slick member. Just as he started to become uneasy, the older horse licked the colt's tailhead. The sensation was new, and very exciting. It was one of the itchy places on the colt's body, one he couldn't reach no matter how hard he tried. He lifted his tail in response to the warm breath, and slapped it down hard when the stallion licked his anus. He jumped in surprise, squealing. Spark nipped him hard, reminding him who was in control here. Deacon settled and was a little surprised to find that he enjoyed the feeling of Spark's ministrations. He lifted his tail quickly as Spark returned to his task of cleaning the colt, making the pink skin glisten. Deacon relaxed to enjoy the feelings running through his body, his head dropping down to sniff at Spark's now rock hard cock, giving it a quick lick. He wasn't sure what he thought of the taste, but he knew he liked the stallion's actions.

Spark cleaned the colt thoroughly, his cock slapping his belly slowly as he worked himself up. The colt knew his role was to be subservient, and was getting very interested himself. His tail raised even farther in the air, and Spark knew the colt's stallionhood was starting to show itself. He paused in his task and glanced under the paint's belly and was rewarded with an impressive sight. The stallion (for who could call a horse with a cock that big a colt?) had a phallus that matched his stature: 16 inches graced that horse. It wasn't as thick as the more mature stallion, but what it lacked in girth it made up with length. Spark found himself impressed. On top of that, Deacon's cock was a brilliant pink, matching the color of his anus. He had never seen such an oddly colored horse before, and it excited him. Returning to his hindquarters the dark stallion continued his work, moving around him to get into a better position. He scratched his chin on the colt's rump, his cock slapping his belly yet again, pre starting to drip from the tip. Spark started to paw the ground, rubbing his head against his rump.

Deacon knew what happened when a stallion did this, he had watched his sire enough. That stallion would have already bred his mare in the time this black stallion has been cleaning him and it really confused the inexperienced horse. Usually his sire just put his chin on the mare's back then mounted her: is that what this horse is going to do? Deacon wasn't sure what he thought of that idea, but the pleasure his body was receiving convinced him to stay a little longer.

Spark bites him again, his muzzle pressed against his rump as he inhales deeply, filling his head with the colts scent. He jumps, kicking out, then settles and explores Deacon's tail again. He rubs his nose on the soft sensitive part of the underside of Deacon's tail, snaking his tongue out for a taste. Deacon hurrumps deep in his throat and lifts his tail higher, spreading his legs and dropping his head to the ground, glassy-eyed. Spark's pre starts to pool under his body as he constantly slaps his belly as he bites the presented rump hard several times, his lust growing. He positions himself behind the colt and presses his head against his croup, his forehoof lifting off the ground and pawing in the air.

Deacon's under the stallion's spell, completely relaxed and submissive. His cock is completely firm, stretching along his belly as it starts to drip pre, the manipulations of his hindquarters completely taking control of him. His ears are focused behind him, his eyes glazed over and his legs spread. He jumps when Spark bites him, but doesn't move from his position. The weight on his croup disappears as the black stallion rears into the air, then crashes back down. This time it's his chest and not his head resting on the young stallion's back, pinning the colt's tail up and out of the way as the dark snake presses up against his leg. Deacon's legs strain under the weight of the horse on his back, and even if he wanted to there's nowhere for him to go to get away. Fear glints in his eyes as the weight threatens to break him, but a shift of Spark's weight allows him to reposition his legs and support the stallion on his back. Spark's glands press up between his legs, and the euphoric feeling returns as a trail of pre is left behind. The cock runs between his nuts before being pulled back for another thrust. This time its higher, and lodges in the base of his tail, sending tingles through his head. The hot and wet head feels even better than the tongue, and every time Spark thrusts Deacon's cock jumps just a little more.

Spark grabs a chunk of Deacon's neck and uses it to thrust harder onto the younger horse. One particularly hard thrust causes Deacon to loose his balance and scramble to regain it. The slight shift drops his hindquarters and leaves an open path into his body. His cock touches the colt's anus, and when he feels the slight give, grunts and thrusts hard, embedding his cock in the stallion's body.

The slick sensation of the cockhead slipping into his body sends a tremor through Deacon's body, and the hot pain makes him squeal. Spark thrusts six inches into the colt with his first penetration, the tailhole pressing inwards before forcing it open. The tight muscles holding the colt closed slides up the invading cock with the most delightful sensation. He immediately thrusts again, sinking the remainder of his phallus inside the hot tailhole. Deacon starts to relax as the pain disappears, Spark's pre lubricating the entrance and making things slide easily. The girth stretches him wider than ever before, his body contracting and squeezing tightly around the foreign object. With each squeeze, his cock thickened and slapped his belly.

Spark thrusts his entire length into the colt, his sheath pressing into his tail, every inch inside the intense passage. Deacon's tailhole grabs him tight as a thick pulse of pre fires deep inside. Spark pauses for a second, then pulls out until just his crown is inside, then slides in up to his sheath again in a swift motion. He bites again, his body lifting off of the stallion's rump with the energy of the thrust. Spark's cock starts to flare, leaving more and more inside when he pulls back. Deacon arches his next every time Spark pulls back, the increasing size adding a delightful full feeling. He nickers, his body clenching against Spark's as he trembles in pleasure. The tight anal ring slides up and down, milking his cock for every available ounce of pre. Saliva starts to drip down his next from the lustful stallion on top, licking and biting with every thrust. Deacon starts to push backwards into the black horse's crotch, lowering his head and clenching his muscles.

Spark is lost in his conquest, three months of pent up frustration letting itself out at the same time. His hooves draw grooves in the soft soil as the colt pushes into him, sucking the stallion's cock into his body. The added push sets him off as he explodes into the horse, his silver tail swishing madly as his throbbing cock pumps a huge load of stallion seed deep into the colt's body, filling it quickly. Spark shivers, his forelegs becoming rigid in the waves of his climax. Deacon starts as he feels the invading cock flare three times its normal size, pressing directly into his prostate as it fires again and again, the force of the cum sending him over the edge, his body contracting on the stallion's member as his own sends rope after rope of seed onto the ground, his tail feebly flagging with every squirt. A nicker squeezes out of the young stallion's body as the climax washes through his body.

Spark relaxes, still on the stallion's back, as he pants enjoying the feeling of his cock buried deep in the hot body of another stallion, the squeezing tailhole and the overwhelming wetness of his own cum around his cock making him buckle and shoot another couple of loads of his seed inside as he grunts with pleasure. The scent of stallion sweat and horse cum fills the air as he slowly slides off the other stallion, his weak forelegs crashing to the ground as his flare pulled from the tailhole, a river of stallion seed formed a puddle on the ground as it streamed down the paint's hind legs. Deacon raised his head and nickered softly; turning around with his tail still lifted and began to groom the black stallion with a thankful expression on his face.

Spark nickers in return, and starts to lick and clean the swollen shoulder of the paint stallion with an apologetic whinny. Deacon's sheath started to thicken again, his younger body able to recover faster from his orgasm than the older stallion's. He falls back slightly, licking and rubbing his back and hindquarters, reaching under to nuzzle the black sheath, his own scent mixing with Spark's, filling his nose and clouding his mind. The feeling of cool breath blowing on his sheath causes Spark's sheath to twitch as the colt's cock lengthens into its full size. He turns his attention to the black tail, blowing on it as he smells the stallion's unique scent. His tongue licks out, the slick surface sending tingles through Spark causing his tail to lift by reflex. The eager colt moves around the older stud and rears up onto his back, catching Spark by surprise. Spark throws up his head in shock, seeing his dominance in the balance as he whinnies a warning to the impudent colt. The paint's chest rubs the older horse's tail, pulling it up and out of the way as his long cock reaches up and plants under his tail. Spark bucks, pulling his legs underneath him, trying to get away from the other horse's penis. As he tucks himself under, his ass tucks up and pushes outwards, right into the thrusting cock. The pink cock pushes in, the tight muscles clenching around the intruder. Spark's eyes widen as he feels the stud on his back and inside his body as he braces himself to support the weight. Deacon thrusts in, embedding half his cock inside the warm tunnel with a single thrust. Spark whinnies in surprise as the phallus slides over his prostate sending a thrill of pleasure through his body. His thoughts are clear on his face: surprise, annoyance, and raw pleasure. Deacon takes a fold of skin in his mouth, lifting himself into the air with the brutality of his thrusts, his instincts taking over, embedding his virginity in the black stallion's tight ass. A solid slap is heard in the quiet meadow as Spark's cock slaps his belly to the surprise of its owner. Spark looks over his shoulder at the horse mounting him, and they exchange a glance. Without any sound, Deacon pauses and Spark widens his legs, lifting his tail himself and drops his head, submitting to the colt. The paint tightens his grip and resumes his ravaging of the stallion's tailhole, sinking his entire length into the stallion only to yank it out, the growing flare the only part remaining inside. The colt thrusts hard, his sheath pressing into the other's tailhole, his forelegs straining to pull himself in farther.

Spark squeals with every bite, his cock bouncing nonstop leaving a trail of pre on his belly and a pool on the ground. He tenses his muscles around the pink phallus, obviously enjoying himself far more than he expected. Deacon looses all control to his instincts, hilting himself inside lifting his hind legs completely off the ground with the brutal thrusts. His testicles rise into his body as he groans and nickers in lust, his prepucial ring sliding all the way into the submissive stallion's body as his sheath hilts itself. Spark whinnies sharply as his cock spasms in a mini-orgasm as the invading cock hits his prostate in the most pleasurable way. He groans and whimpers, his muscles tightening around the member, massaging it well as it fills his hot tailhole. He turns his head and nibbles on the paint's shockingly white foreleg and spreads his hind legs more, giving as much access as he possibly can. As Spark drops his legs, the colt gets a better angle and hilts again, lifting his legs off the ground and pausing, trembling slightly as his sheath is pressed against the filled hole, his legs completely in contact with the other horse's body... after a fraction of a second pause he comes back down, taking his weight off the stud's back before thrusting again. His eyes glaze over and roll back as he releases his grip and licks his neck, pulling his cock out of the warm tailhole until just the flare is left in, then embeds it back inside, the impact forcing the black stallion to take a step forward as he nickers in lust. Spark grunts and pants in his own lust, moaning as the cock is thrust back in and over his prostate causing his cock to jump and spray pre all over his forelegs. His well-lubed tailhole greats the invading cock again, squeezing tight around it.

Deacon's cock lodges up against the subservient stallion's prostate and rebounds back, the pressure on his flare setting the stage for his climax. His flare starts to engorge, creating more and more sensation for both stallions as it slips in and out, the muscles around the cock constricting involuntarily. Spark whimpers in ecstasy, forgetting the world around him, sensing only the weight of another stallion on his back and the cock buried deep inside his tailhole sending wave after wave of pleasure through his trembling body. His cock jerks underneath him spraying pre everywhere as he pushes backwards, the thought of another stallion mounting him like a mare causing him to groan in lust. The painted colt screams in the ebony ears in front of him as his cock swells, a tingling sensation starting to spread from his neck down as he thrusts deeper and slower, pausing when he hilts before pulling out and thrusting again, his entire length sliding in and out of the stallion's body, Spark's cum leaking from his tailhole as he uses his entire muscular body to breed the gorgeous stallion between his legs. Spark rocks back and forth under the violent thrusts, meeting the paint's rhythm, taking his cock fully into his hot body, spreading his legs as far as he can as he submits to the horny stud. His tailhole dribbles the paint's pre, his once-silver tail soaked and completely wet, pre dribbling down his legs. He closes his eyes in bliss, moaning softly in response to the thrusts turning his head to give a nibble on the forelegs straddling his body. Deacon's cock starts to stiffen even more with every thrust, his ring standing out and his flare engorging, increasing the stimulation as his climax comes closer. His balance starts to leave him as his eyes roll up in his head, his teeth clamping hard onto the other stallion's withers as he tries to keep his balance. He thrusts disjointedly, his sweat running off his body and his crotch making a smacking noise as he hilts with every thrust, sliding over his prostate every time. Spark clenches his muscles as he climaxes, sending strings of seed onto his chest and legs, the pressure on his prostate sending his mind into overload. The jerking of the older stallion's body and the contractions of his muscles merges into the spasms of the paint stallion, the flare completely filling his tailhole stretching it to the max as the paint's essence fires deep into his body, the white tail flagging as one leg lifts trying to push in deeper. Every shot of semen causes another thrust into his body. Spark squeals as he feels the hot stallion seed filling his abused tailhole, stretching it even more and causing it to start oozing out. The waves of warmth and pleasure originating from the orgasm fill his mind and body. Deacon seals the stallion's tailhole with gel, making sure he comes up bred. His head and neck relaxes, resting his body on the strong stallion below him as his softening cock tries to slip out. His glands are far too flared to slip out, and he stays firmly implanted inside, as he nickers happily ontop his first mare. Spark clenches hard to keep him inside, but Deacon rears and dismounts before he has fully relaxed, pulling his flare out with a slurp and a pop. Both horses squeal in pain, but it quickly passes. Steam rises off of both horses as they look at each other, neither in control of the other. They both nicker and share breath, satisfied that they are equals. Together they walk toward the herd, grazing in the distance...