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The afternoon sun beat onto Jonas's back, the violet fabric of his t-shirt reflecting vainly. He was only four hours in and already felt spent - worse, in fact: he felt in debt. He was aching and sweating and the grey-white fur on his body gathered dirt and leafage and it was all just too much. He collapsed onto the soil, hoe in hand.

"Hey, no time for a siesta," a voice called from afar. It was Jimmy, the eldest. His voice was as coarse as the skin on his hands.

Jonas groaned into the earth, playing dead. It reeked of humidity and pesticides. Along the patterned crop-lines of Horsehardt Agriculture stuck out the bright purple spots of a snow leopard's coat. They were his.

'I can't do this,' he thought, but he needed the money. 'I can't do this,' he repeated, but it was the only vacancy for miles around.'I ca-

"You can't do this," Ed accused, kicking a mound of dry dirt into Jonas's short white hair.

Jonas whined; it took him hours to get his hair right last time Ed messed it. Jonas's voice was higher than average for a 24 year-old, but dehydration threw it into a pubescent crack. Thin arms covered his eyes, granting momentary shelter from the ball of fire above, until a hand yanked him ass-wards by the tail.

He flung his paws out to try and balance, receiving a mouthful of muck for his effort. He could see Jimmy in the distance, working steadily as always. Ed wrapped the thick and fluffy tip of Jonas's tail around his fist, pulling him easier than he would most farming tools.

"Ah, I'm sorry, please, Ed, please - Ed, that hurts," Jonas begged. A stabbing pain radiated from the base of his tail. He bit his tongue and clenched his eyes until Ed finally let go.

Jonas wobbled to his feet, shaking his hair and fur. He looked up at Ed, who frowned from five feet above. For a moment he thought the horse was going to punch him.

"Boss wants to see you," Ed said, "Now."

Nodding and patting his lower back to make sure his tail was still attached, Jonas scurried away. It had only been eight days since he had joined the Horsehardts, but each day felt longer and more taxing than the last. They were a family business, only occasionally venturing beyond their own kin to find labour. Both luckily and unluckily for Jonas, he happened to be the first response to their online advertisement. The interview was brief, with some basic motivational questions asked by a well mannered horse around Jonas's age named Will. Three days and one phone call later and the eighty acre farm had one more body than before.

Throughout the first week Jonas discovered that there were five of them in total, including the Boss: there was the youngest, a geeky 18 year-old called Colin; Will, who seemed to be the nicest of the lot; Ed, who was closer to 30 than 20 and took a bit too much pride in the farm; Jimmy, definitely over 30 but a great worker; and the Boss, who preferred to go by the title Mr Horsehardt. As far as Jonas was aware, Mr Horsehardt had sired the four brothers, making him considerably older than any of them, even if he wore it well.

Jonas also realized that trying to keep up with the pace of five Clydesdale horses of god-knows-what pedigree was as impossible as not watching their athletic bodies at work. Snow leopards were not made to work in the sun, he would tell himself every minute of every hour of every shift. The clue was in the name. He was small, weak, vulnerable to heat and had no license for any farm vehicles.

In contrast, the four brothers would shape the very land with brute force, beads of sweat hugging their shirtless bodies. Their eyes were brown and dark and determined to dominate in an industry as under control by consumers as it was by government funding. Rippling along their bodies, shaped and smoothed by toned muscles, was a warmer brown fur that parted down each of their faces to make way for a shock of white. Visually, it was stunning. Genetically, it was outstanding. Jonas often wondered where the mother and wife of the farm was, but so far had no leads. Instead, he took solace in the ebb and flow of the brothers' muscles as they co-operated like eleven foot tall machines.

He stepped into the slightly-less-incendiary shade of the main building: a sun-bleached structure originally painted red, with a hand-written sign reading _Horsehardt Agriculture_atop it. As he cooled, his thoughts came back to him, and he hurriedly tucked his erection sideways in his briefs. He had to be careful of those.

The farm was a unique blend of tradition and innovation, Jonas thought. The main building, which attached to the family's housing unit, also doubled as a store front for household farming and pest control needs. What made this interesting was the inclusion of a small but modern office at the cashier desk, which linked to a function and meeting room for more formal events and then Mr Horsehardt's office.

Jonas put a jaunt in his step and tried to smile as he walked through an aisle of the store, hoping that Will would be manning it as he had been for most of the previous days. The place was empty. Jonas gave up the act. He paced through one corridor, then another, before knocking on a varnished cherry wood door with a clean brass handle.

"Come in," said a voice. Jonas obeyed. Sunlight flared in his eyes from two large windows on either side of the room. He stepped forward, swallowing. The office was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioning unit and the clicking of Colin in the corner playing games.

"Y-you wanted to," Jonas cleared his throat, "See me?"

"Yes. Take a seat," said Mr Horsehardt.

Jonas sat.

The office was similarly traditional-yet-modern to the building itself. Mr Horsehardt preferred a hand-crafted cherry wood table topped with mementos and photographs of his boys. Jonas only noticed as he pulled the chair towards it, but the table had a subtle wooden odour. Beside its mementos sat a monitor and keyboard, as well as a notepad and pen. The back of the room was dedicated to vintage photographs of the land as it developed from an estate to a small farm, all the way up to the present day. Mr Horsehardt himself wore a white short-sleeved shirt and a bronze waistcoat, with a suit hanging from the back of his leather computer chair.

"Surely you know why you're here," said Mr Horsehardt.

"Because I'm a bit slow?" Jonas suggested.

Mr Horsehardt scoffed, picking up his pen and scribbling five circles on a page: four big, one small. "Can you guess what this represents?"

"Me and your sons?"

"Close. It represents the amount of work the five of you have accomplished over the past week. Can you guess which circle you are?"

Jonas tried to nod.

"The tiny one," Mr Horsehardt said. His tone softened, making Jonas even more uneasy. "Listen, this is a small farm - a growing farm, yes, but a small one. We can't afford to make mistakes, or be slow, or have crybaby snow cats destroying hundreds of pounds of crop before it's even had a chance to grow."

A wetness formed on Jonas's eyes. He looked at the page on the table, embarrassed to make eye contact with the Boss. "Sorry," he said.

"Are you a girl, Jonas?"

Jonas rubbed the moisture from his eyes, "No, sir."

"Then stop acting like one. We are a family of men, not sissies, and if we don't lay the groundwork for the coming months then there are no pumpkins, there is nothing: there are noth-kins," he banged his knee under the desk. "I have been patient. We all have. The only reason I'm not firing you right now is because Colin seems to like you," Mr Horsehardt scowled towards the corner of the room, where a bespectacled teenager peeked over the top of their 3DS, "Now get out of my office and get back to work. I _don't_wanna hear any complaints from you for the rest of the day." He clacked his pen to the table.

Jonas opened his mouth, but the look on Mr Horsehardt's face deflated him. He rose to his feet as best as he could, tail ducking between his legs. He turned to the door. Colin waved.

'How am I meant to keep up with four working horses?' he asked himself, 'It's impossible.'

He paced back the way he came. The shop had as much Will as Jonas did. He resumed frying in the sun.

"Hoe."

Jonas turned. It was Ed. "Eh?"

"You left your hoe in the field."

"Oh. Sorry," Jonas said flatly.

Reaching the hoe out to him handle first, Ed looked him over before pulling it back. "Actually, I need to take mine back anyway. Follow me."

Ed slung both hoes over his shoulder, keeping at least three Ed-sized strides ahead. Jonas still managed to lose his footing in the loose land under him. Ed was always spattered in dirt, but there was a unique sense of rightness to seeing the white fur of his hands dusted up to blend in with his chestnut abdomen, or camouflaging in with his well-worn navy trousers and boots. They walked for a couple of minutes to the edge of the land toward a tall brown metal structure. Ed shoved one of the barn doors open with his free hand, a task that took Jonas five minutes, two arms and a pulled muscle the day before. He entered. Jonas chased his shadow.

There was a heavy air inside. It used to be used for cattle, Colin once told him. He liked to stow himself away on the upper level when Mr Horsehardt was being especially irate. Jonas did not see the appeal; it stunk like ass.

A clang brought Jonas out of his thoughts as Ed returned both tools to their hangar. Jonas wrinkled his nose, trying to come up with something to say to fill the silence that followed.

"I really am trying, you know," he said. Ed faced him, the open door throwing reflections into his eye. "I mean, I'm still learning," Jonas offered, tail twitching as he remembered what happened earlier, "It's just... I'm not quite as _well made_as you are." He raised his arms to try and make a point. "I see you lifting and tilling and your arms are like out to here-"

"-You've been spying on me?" Ed shot, closing the distance between them.

"No, no, no! Not at all," Jonas pleaded, voice jumping an octave, "I didn't mean it in that way." It was too late. Ed reached down, forearms bulging, to wrap his fingers around Jonas's throat. The puffy fur of his neck did little to cushion the superhuman grip. Jonas pulled at Ed's forefinger with both paws, windpipe rasping. It loosened. Ed dropped his own head to his hands and sighed heavily.

"I've been spying on you too."

Jonas's heart hammered in his mouth, the metallic tang of adrenaline creeping over his taste-buds. He did not know what to say. He did not know if he _could_say anything. Ed placed a hand back on Jonas's Adam's apple, softer this time. The hot rush of Ed's breath blew down Jonas's whiskers, who mewled uncontrollably as a thick, wet tongue spread his lips and plunged inside him. Jonas immediately throbbed, paralysed.

He had kissed boys before, even a girl once when he was younger, but this was unlike anything he had ever imagined. It felt like Ed's tongue filled his entire maw, the sheer length and girth of it sliding beyond his uvula to penetrate his throat. Jonas tried to moan, strangled by the surprisingly sweet tasting intruder. His knees growing weaker by the second. Carbon dioxide saturated his lungs.

But Ed would not let up. In one moment his tongue subdued Jonas's to the floor of his mouth, in the next a gush of saliva was forced down his gullet. Just as the final warning quiver of his legs rattled along his hips, Ed grasped between them. Jonas's consciousness waived, and for a second he thought he was going to black out, but four thick fingers hooked around his perineum, hoisting him into the air as Ed's thumb pinned into the base of his cock. Supported by only one arm, Ed's other still clamped around his neck, Jonas was molested and kissed and claimed with the deepest embrace possible.

In hypoxia-riddled weakness, Jonas brushed a paw against the tight eight-pack of his Adonis. Each bump was hard, unyielding and radiated a warmth that tangled knots upon knots in Jonas's stomach. Ed's coat was soft, yet firm. Jonas reached lower. Ed roared.

Before Jonas had the time to process the presence of gravity, he lay head-over-arse in a heap on the floor, gulping down his first mouthful of oxygen in over ninety seconds. A deep sound bellowed from Ed's chest, who stood above him, grinning. Jonas blinked a few times, his vision returning from the frantic blue-white sparkles of asphyxiation. Another rumble bellowed around the room, and another.

"I told you he was a big girl," said a voice advancing from the barn door. It was clear and articulate. Why was Will here? "You should have seen him the past few times he walked through the shop," he held out his thumb and forefinger a few inches apart, "He was rocking this cute little stiffy."

Ed laughed louder, falling in line with Will and Jimmy, who looked down pitifully at Jonas. Jimmy waved his dirtied hands in the air, "Right, enough you faggots." After a few more chuckles the three brothers calmed.

"Are you sure you didn't enjoy that, Ed?" Will joked, miming Jonas's paw on his abs.

"Fuck you," Ed said, pulling down the waistband of his trousers to let nine inches of unflared horse rod flop out, "See? Still soft." The both laughed again, each taking a turn to pull out their lengths.

Seeing the three brothers expose themselves so casually to one another threw Jonas's scrambled mind into an even deeper state of confusion. He was dazed and upset and angry, but more than anything else he was turned on beyond belief. He lay on the floor unmoving, except for the twitching member below his clothing. A fever-pitched hunger grew in his loins. He whimpered.

"Hey, bitch," Ed said, lifting him by the scruff of his neck. Jonas just stared at the muscle buffet before him, three enormous flaccid dicks hypnotising him like a pendulum. "What's this, you dirty slut?" he probed, tearing Jonas's trousers off from the waist.

"Holy shit," said Will.

Jonas blushed through his fur, trying to cover up his tight cyan and magenta striped briefs with his tail. They were tight at the best of times, but with such a fervent erection dancing between his legs his hole had all but swallowed the backside of his underwear.

"Aw, look, her clit's hard," Ed jeered, nipping the tip of Jonas's foreskin hard enough to make him cry out. "What's that, bitch? You're in heat?" Ed's brutish fist slammed into Jonas's balls, taking with it the final remains of his dignity and underwear in its retreat.

Ed pinged the pants to Will, who stuffed them onto his nostrils and inhaled. Jonas watched in equal parts horror and anticipation as Will's cock grew, lengthening and thickening and swelling to an unfathomable number of inches. The base of it alone was easily the same size as Jonas's neck.

"Fuck, she really does smell like she's in heat," Will moaned.

"Told ya," Jimmy said, "I'm always right. Only a girl snow leopard would have pink spots."

They eyed Jonas up, quiet in their calculations. Jonas stood meekly, still gripped by Ed's fist. The hackles of his back had started to go numb. The only sound in Jonas's ears, which pinned back in uncertainty, was the thumping of his heart and the slow stroking of Will's dominant hand along the shaft of his inflated cock.

Through sheer size, Will's engorged member pushed down his trousers until they fell to his feet. It curved upwards, longer and more muscular than his arm. With each stroke it pulsed, its fine grooves and rings and underlying veins threatening to pop from blood pressure. Jonas's eyes almost popped out of his head just watching it. Every foot of cock had as great a circumference as the last, culminating in a crescendo of meat around its flared tip. Will's urethra alone was large enough for Jonas to fit a finger - or something else - inside it.

"That's no way to treat a lady," Jimmy said to Ed, gaze unmoving from Jonas's exposed body. Jonas's jaw hung loose, disbelieving of the scene before him. Reaching over the top of Will's rod from left to right, and from right to left, were two chiselled biceps: one from Ed, one from Jimmy. The two eldest brothers breathed heavily, fondling one another's expanding dicks, squeezing and tugging and gripping one another with a passion betrayed by their focused expressions. The underside of their arms and elbows jabbed into the free-standing genitals of Will, who - still staring at Jonas - lowered his brothers' trousers until they joined his own.

Will kneaded his knuckles into the iron fibre of his brothers' ass-cheeks. Ed and Jimmy loudly wanked one another off, the wetness of their pre-cum trapping air bubbles beneath their touch, which popped to unleash a heady musk into the air. Three monstrous Clydesdale horse cocks twitched in unison, their pedigree pattern of pink and black blotches aimed directly at Jonas.

Jonas inhaled, self-conscious of every noise and motion he made while being watched. The aroma of pre-cum was overpowering. It made him salivate and inhale again, bringing his already dizzy mind to a new level of light-headedness. On his third breath, he caved and let his tongue hang loose, catching the scent to taste, his claws unconsciously curling in pleasure.

He was no longer aware of his own actions, snow leopard instinct kicking in to drool openly at such an intoxicating flavour. His eyes fluttered. When he looked back, Jimmy passed Will a reel of steel wire.

Will brought a finger to his lips, "Shh, sh shh. Easy, girl." He paced softly towards Jonas, holding out the wire in his hands.

"Please, Will," Jonas begged weakly, "T-Tell them... Tell them I'm a boy! Please don't... do this."

Will smiled, that gorgeous customer-service smile, bringing out a grunt of relief from Jonas. He cupped his fingers around Jonas's ankles. "Don't worry. Everything is going to be alright now, princess," he whispered, as the first coil of wire brought Jonas's feet together.

Everything was not alright. Jonas wanted to kick and scream and run from the barn and never look back - but he could not resist. He internally told himself over and over that he did not stand a chance, even if he tried. The viscous slick of pre-cum wrapping around his glans and dripping to the barn floor told an entirely different story: he _chose_not to resist.

With Will so close and so naked, Jonas's protest melted. He had been so stunned by his length that he neglected to inspect what was hanging underneath them. Jonas winced as wire tightly wound around his feet, sending them into spasm. As Will stood back to full height, he saw them: two coconut-sized nuts, swaying back and forth in perfect symmetry. A hazel-furred sack cradled them loosely, its velvety sheen taking on a pinkish hue at its plumpest points, struggling to contain such a virile set of reproductive organs.

Next bound were Jonas's paws, his arms raised above his head and his shirt shredded away from his body to join the rest of his destroyed belongings. At this point, Ed's grip on his upper back was the only thing stopping him from toppling to the floor. Oh, god, Ed's balls were even bigger than Will's. Jonas's vulnerable cock ached at the sight. Whereas Will's were perfectly symmetrical, Ed's were misshapen and heavy, with one hanging lower than the other. There was something innately feral about being in its presence that made Jonas wish he could bear children.

Ed took his hand away from Jonas. Jonas tilted to the side, slowly losing balance, before Ed pulled him backwards by the wire constricting his wrists. Jonas scrambled backwards to avoid falling, forgetting that his feet were no longer his, thudding the back of his head onto the underside of Ed's pectoral muscles. Grinding against the side of Jonas's ribcage was the most spectacular dick he had ever had the honour of being winded by. Ed flicked his hips, banging the middle ring of his cock into Jonas's side. Jonas gasped; it felt like he had been punched.

"All safe, Jimmy," Will said, passing back the remains of wire. Jimmy scrutinised his handiwork. The Horsehardt-famous white shock of hair was not only on his face, but sprouted down and along his bollocks, too.

"I think you've forgot something," Jimmy said. He leaned down, eyes level with Jonas. He brought his mouth to his ear, speaking loudly enough for only Jonas to hear, "Look, son, with a little pecker like that, you might as well be a chick. Now be a good girl, and we might let you leave with it."

Jonas recoiled, first at the threat, secondly at the sharp prick of steel wire as it caught his balls. Jimmy was rougher than Will, wrapping the wire around the top of Jonas's sac tighter and tighter, lower and lower. Jonas squirmed, pressure building in his nuts as the wire ran out of places to go, already throbbing desperately to get blood flow through to his baby-makers.

"Th-that's way too-"

Jimmy glowered at Jonas. Jonas shut up.

Before returning to full height, Jimmy dropped the remainder of wire to the floor. He smiled, smacking the back of his hand along Jonas's left cheek and squeezing his taut, strangulated balls until he yelped.

"Help!Help!" Jonas cried.

The rough elastic of a jock strap gagged his call. It reached the back of his throat, making him regurgitate saliva, scraping his gums and drying his tongue. As the moisture of Jonas's maw submitted to being drained away, a thick layer of musk and fluid dissolved into it. His tongue twisted and turned and tingled as a potent lather of sweat and dried semen frothed in his mouth, doubling-down on the musk of sex looming over his conscious mind. He tried to spit the jock strap out at first, but it was too big, too cloying... too delicious. He lapped up every last drop of musky cummy mess he could find.

"Colin's," Will shrugged, as if that explained everything. "Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," said Jimmy.

Ed hoisted Jonas into the air, wire cutting into his wrists from his body weight. He bit down on the crotch of the jock strap to bear the pain until he hung from a hook on the wall. His entire body dangled, limp and powerless, cut and bruised, and losing circulation fast. "Ready," said Ed.

Like sharks to blood, they frenzied. Ed immediately bit down on his nipple, the size of his snout meaning Jonas's entire pectoral muscle was crushed. He screamed, muffled, before Ed brought a full-speed slap across the side of his buttock. The gigantic tongue that once lured Jonas in with its force and passion now buried itself into the fragile skin of his nipple, lapping and licking hard enough to make it sensitive and sore within seconds. Such sudden pain brought with it the rush of pleasure - of finally being touched and claimed like before.

Jonas's rod, miniscule in comparison to the three brothers', pumped a frantic spout of lubricant. Each lap of Ed's tongue felt connected to the very nerves that ran down his body to his cock, jolting all the way back up again to the pleasure centre in his mind. His balls started to tingle, the pink skin of his sac turning grey under his white belly-fluff.

As Ed pulled away, Jonas heard the removal of his teeth as they imprinted on his body. It stung, unleashing rivulets of blood and saliva in equal measure. Jonas yowled. Three pairs of hands pulled his fur and fingered his muscles and scratched and poked and dragged their way across his petite frame. His body was a canvas and they were three parts of one artist, forcing themselves onto him to leave their mark.

There were no words: only moans and slurps and slaps. Will pulled Jonas's ears so hard he thought his fur was going to tear out, before forcing their lips to collide. Will's terrifyingly nimble tongue rammed the jock strap deeper inside until he could crush Jonas's tongue under his own. Jonas shuddered. As he pulled away, he spat a congealed string of mucus inside him as a parting gift. It swirled inside him to join the mess of musk and semen drowning his senses.

Hands were on his cock. Rough hands. Callous and careless and brutal in their pursuit, Jimmy's hands yanked down Jonas's foreskin a little too far. He gripped too tight. He flicked a finger against one of his balls. He grazed his incisors against his glans. Jimmy pumped his palm up and down Jonas's length, which barely reached halfway across its span. All the while, Ed and Will and Jimmy's cock-heads bumped and banged and stabbed into his body, bruising and belittling him for his meagre size.

Jonas was close. Oh, fuck he was close. His entire body rattled in desperation.

Jimmy stopped. The hands were gone: all six. Jonas gurgled, wide and wet-eyed, the pain in his feet and hands dulled to a numbed sting. His balls, futilely trying to pull back inside him to deliver sperm to his seminal vesicles, were cold and purple.

Ed pinched Will's nipples, their tongues colliding and pushing against one another. It was a tug of war with no losers, their cocks hugging into one another. They held one another's bollocks, reverently, before turning to Jimmy and imparting respectful tongue-lashings around his solid pectorals, following down the groove of his abdominal muscles before meeting at the bottom for another kiss.

They circled Jonas, looking for a point of weakness - no, for a point of strength and resistance to break to their will. Ed chewed on his ear, making him reflexively bend his neck backwards. Jimmy choked Jonas's cock, holding its base tightly enough to darken its already aubergine shade. It gained a meaningless inch in size, flooding with unoxygenated blood. Will-

'-Will. Will. Oh fuck, Will.'

Ecstasy racked up Jonas's body. Darting around and inside the tight pucker of his hole, stretching and soothing and massaging the only unviolated orifice of his being, was Will's tongue. It was thinner than Ed's, but oh was it fast - and long, oh so long.

Jonas pulled his knees up the few millimetres he could, fighting through the pain to try and spread his cheeks further apart. His sphincter trembled and opened, trying to squeeze itself around the muscle. A flurry of choice motions rapidly pounding in succession granted access to his most sensitive area.

Will was ceaseless. He growled, puncturing the soft tissues of Jonas's buttocks with his fingers. His thumbs parted them at will, before devouring the smooth cleft between them, lapping and biting and spitting. Just as Jonas thought his rump had reached peak pleasure, a new motion would rock inside his body. Inch by inch, flick by flick, his ass was torn asunder. With each wave of pleasure a new section of his brain deactivated, re-routing its power to experiencing the mind-blowing phenomenon happening inside him. It was a sensation unlike any dick he had ever taken before: it flexed and bent and followed his inside walls, shrinking to stab into the defences of his prostate before exploding with a tsunami of saliva-slicked slurps.

He almost came right then, but Will pulled back. Jonas cried: actual tears, streaming down his face in a graceless sob - not because of the pain he was in, but the pleasure. Ed noticed them and smacked them away, making the problem worse. Jonas felt like he was burning up in places and freezing in others, electrified in body parts and sensation-less in others. It was an overwhelming smorgasbord of sensational amalgamations, each vying to take and give and taint and destroy.

That was when the flare of Will's cock pressed against his entrance. Jonas shook his head. Jimmy grabbed his muzzle, holding it still and clamping it shut.

'It's not going to fit!' he tried to shout.

Will pushed harder, the flare of his rod pulsating against the gape left behind from rimming.

'It's_not_going to fit!'

He bit down on Jonas's shoulder-blade, the initial shock enough to distract enough from another meaty millimetre of tip spearing its way in.

'You're gonna kill me!'

The agony and relief that followed was simultaneously the single most nauseating and refreshing moment of Jonas's existence. Within a beat of his heart, the total length, girth, weight and force of Will's flare entered him. It was loud. It was messy. It forced his rectum to swallow up the first ten inches of cock behind it.

The motion came to a halt against his prostate. In the aftermath, as a displaced spurt of saliva and pre-cum fired in the opposite direction of the thrust, Jonas's entire lower body clenched. It felt as though time had stopped.

And then it came, the first string splashing against Jimmy's face. Jonas's cock sprayed its load, each jet of semen tinged with the pinkish hue of previous beatings, over and around and all over and on the ground, soaking his own fur and the muscles of the brothers with no regard for who was who or which way was up or down.

He breathed sharply. Had he been holding his breath? He did not care. His length was still ejaculating the most voluminous eruption of seed he had ever witnessed. It rebounded up with each drop, propelling itself back down to horizontal, trapping itself in an endless cycle of release and reload, release and reload.

Only when the flow had reduced to a trickle did Jimmy's rough hands return, determined to milk him raw. The afterglow was ruined. Climax was no obstacle for Will.

The first thrust almost lifted Jonas straight off the hook, plunging inside him to prop up his feeble body. Will brought his hips back, vacuum sucking on his already overworked prostate, before colliding once again. The pace increased, mashing Jonas's insides. His torment was not over yet.

With each thrust came an additional inch, eventually accompanied by the whip of pedigree bollocks against his ass-cheeks. Jimmy stroked himself off while roughing up Jonas's rod. Jonas was starting to feel the tightness of pleasure building up inside him again.

There was something deeply arousing but unsatisfactory about the way Jimmy handled him. It was frustrating. It was agitating. It drove him wild.

Will was accelerating. With each thrust, he pulled further back, ploughing Jonas's rump anew. Every repetition became faster, with less resistance - with more urgency.

Without warning, Will unsheathed his full length, flare and all. The flush of his load spouted up Jonas's back like a hot bath, dousing his hair and caking his buttocks. Will hosed him down, the force making Jonas sway as he hung. It hugged his body, back-to-front, painting his purple spots white. It came and came, Will's balls churning in his sac, transforming the air of the barn into a dense cloud of sex.

Jonas heard Will catch his breath, the delay between each spurt increasing. He tucked his tail between his leg to shield the freshly-burrowed entrance to his rear-end. His hole swallowed up a generous serving of seed, anyway. Jimmy's hands stopped.

They were moving again. Will pulled up his trousers and left. Jonas whimpered quietly.

The bindings were lifted. Jimmy did it this time, pushing Jonas's arms behind him and holding his shoulders. Ed held his legs. His world turned horizontal.

Reaching inside with two mucky fingers, Jimmy plucked the jockstrap from his maw. Jonas suckled on them like a babe. It tasted earthy and musky and sweaty.

A third and forth finger followed. He obliged; he was an obedient girl. Ed parted Jonas's legs, sliding the fist-sized tip of his cock into the ruins of his ass. The remnants of Will's load granted easy vantage to prop against his sensitive spot. Jimmy removed his fingers, angling his flare in its place. Jonas lowered his tongue, widening his maw. He wanted this. He _needed_this.

Jimmy's cock-head speared into Jonas, spreading his jaw and displacing the soft tissues of his mouth. Momentum carried Jonas's entire body back fourteen inches, his second rectal sphincter tearing open to accommodate the additional length of Ed inside him. His entire body shivered and convulsed, moulding itself around the trunks of meat supporting him. Breathing was impossible. Moving was out of the question. Jonas was truly and utterly spit-roasted.

It all felt like a wicked dream, or a delightful nightmare. Ed and Jimmy took turns ramming themselves back and forth inside him, the surface of Jonas's thin abdomen and gullet visibly bulging. Occasionally they would time their movements wrong, thrusting in at the same time, making him feel like he was going to be cleaved in half as they met in the middle.

Jonas orgasmed. Or was he already orgasming? His cock bubbled and throbbed like a miniature cauldron.

Jimmy gripped Jonas's neck with both hands, squeezing him around his own cock like a sex toy. Ed reached underneath to thwack Jonas's shrivelled balls, rattling the wire constricted around them. Both men grunted aloud - a dominant howl - looking each other in the eyes before slamming their snouts into one another, just as their cocks slammed into Jonas.

Their lips sealed over one another, the titanic battle of their tongues visible as moving shapes under their cheeks. Their howl continued, deafening, even with it being swallowed into the others mouth. Its volume raised, their kiss quickening. They grabbed onto Jonas harder, bucking faster, diving deeper. They unloaded.

It started half way along Jonas's oesophagus, shooting directly past the valve of his stomach and into his gut. It felt boiling hot, blasting out with the speed of steam, the sound of fluid and the consistency of a solid. It packed itself, creamy layer upon creamy layer, into any and every space and groove it could find. Jonas's belly grew wider. The level of semen rose noisily, jet-washing his organs.

At the same time, Ed's flare formed a complete seal within Jonas's rump, its rock-solid edge curling at its extremities. As soon as the dam was in place it filled, pump after pump, litre after litre. Jonas felt it snaking around inside him, looking for a new crevice to corrupt, for a new field to sow the doubtlessly fertile Horsehardt seed.

He was full: completely and undeniably overflowing. It felt like it seeped into the very fibre of his being. It brought him to the brink of bursting. All it took was one trickle - a slight movement to the left - and the floodgates opened.

He heard it before he saw it, spurting messily to the floor of the barn from his ass. The pressure was too much, the passage too narrow: it showered them all in spunk-addled projectile. Ed pulled back, almost bringing Jonas's insides with him in the suction until his flare popped free.

Like a chemical reaction gone wrong, semen frothed up Jonas's throat and fizzed out any hole it could find. His eyes watered. His ears popped. He coughed, drowning in the blissfully saccharine flavour of horse cum. It gargled around his mouth and dribbled out his nose, leaving a delicious layer of spunk that renewed itself over and over as it emptied from the molested confines of his body.

Before he could even breathe, his body was lifted vertical again, all sensation in his paws gone as Jimmy grasped the wire around them. It kept coming: cough after cough, gag after gag, the grey-white fur of Jonas's front and legs was matted and seeded. Jimmy hung him on the hook. Jonas's eyes spun in his head, half conscious, half lost in release. Before he could construct a single thought, the two brothers pulled up their trousers, tucking their wet lengths down their leg all the way to the knee.

As swiftly as they came, they left. Jonas breathed, vaguely aware of their absence. His mind and cock were raw and spent. He breathed again, slowly returning to a conscious state. He was alone.

Jonas hung, shamed and used. His ass was so agape that it took until it ran down his thighs for him to realize seed was pouring from him. His bound testicles, bruised and tender, tried to withdraw into his body. He sniffled, inhaling a grungy layer of mucus and spunk, before spitting it out. It drooped weakly from his lips before spattering his chin.

His tail was limp, messed and frazzled. His nuts ached. His dick ached. His hole, if he could even call it that any more, ached. He opened his maw - of his own volition, for the first time in a while. The voice that came out was muted and unfamiliar.

"Come back," he tried to say, bringing up another mouthful of ejaculate. It joined the rest in his fur.

"I'm... still here..."

The barn door was open. The sun had started to fall. Jonas lacked the strength to even lift his tail around his body for warmth.

"Please..." he begged nobody, "Please, I'll be a good girl."

Jonas was too dehydrated to even cry. He did not even want to know what colour his balls were. He just wanted them back: anyone, everyone.

A steady metallic clanging came from the corner behind him. Jonas tried to turn. He could not.

It came closer, from the ceiling to the ground. There was a pause. The sound changed.

It was footsteps. Oh, thank god, it was footsteps. Jonas wiggled his head from side to side to be a pretty girl again. Who was it? Was it Will?

Colin stepped in front of him. He was naked, muscles ripping along his body. He was a foot or two shorter than the other brothers, but given a couple of years he would make up for that - maybe even grow taller. His cock was semi-flaccid, dangling and dripping. The only thing he wore were steel-toed boots and his glasses, which were smeared in a white liquid, just like his chest.

"Colin?" Jonas asked, exasperated.

Colin nodded. "Are you okay, Jonas?" he asked.

Jonas nodded too, and then shook his head.

Colin walked closer to Jonas, giving his wounds and woes a once-over. "I'm sorry about my brothers," he said. He sounded sincere.

"It's... okay," Jonas said, "I... enjoyed it."

Colin looked at him sympathetically, his brown eyes taking on a chocolate tone.

"Jonas, I was wondering if, well - only if you wanted to, don't feel forced - if you wanted to do something this Friday."

Jonas tilted his head, heavy-lidded eyes opening further.

Colin continued, speaking quickly, "I was wondering if you wanted to come and play Magic with me on Friday, and I could teach you if you didn't know how, and maybe we could go somewhere afterwards or if you don't like Magic maybe we could just do the other thing instead?"

Jonas tried to translate the words through the mush his mind had become. He looked at Colin. Colin fidgeted with his fingers.

It took him a moment to build the strength to do so, but Jonas laughed. It was a giddy giggle. In the ridiculousness of the whole situation, he had the gall to blush.

"E-erm, I'd love to, Colin." He remembered that his whole body ached, "Would, um, your brothers be okay with that?"

Colin nodded, smiling a toothy smile. He raised his arms up in the air and hopped up and down, his twelve inch semi-flaccid dong bouncing to and fro. He dashed over to Jonas and hugged him.

"Ow!" Jonas yelped, the time spent tied finally taking its toll.

"Oh, sorry!" Colin said, jumping back. He looked at Jonas's member, which had shrunk into his foreskin in the cold. "Everything will be alright. I promise. Just leave it to me."

Jonas smiled back at Colin. The entire situation was absurd, without a doubt. In fact, it was entirely fucked. But then again, that was just the way life was. As Colin gently unstrung the steel wire around his body, Jonas relaxed.

"I believe you, Colin," Jonas admitted. It was weird to say, but he did. He really did.