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Balls to the Wall

For Vince, underperforming was infuriating. It did not matter how, where, or why, but failing to meet his own self-expectations pricked him in an area he did not like to be pricked. Today was no exception.

'I should have been better.'

By all means, they should have won: they had the better team, the better training, the better passion. They just straight up wanted the win more. They deserved it. Maybe that was what threw him off.

'I should have been better.'

He had been playing dodgeball for three years now, and his college had a stellar line-up: Rev, a stallion as big as his score-card, with a head of equal size; Ryan, a white rhino happier to take hits than an R&B star's wife; Liz, a tree-frog whose hands couldn't get any safer even if she wrapped them in bandages; Liam, a ferret who was generally an all-round good guy, on and off court; Khaya, whose smaller human form was often underestimated; and Vince, an average-build up-and-coming human who until the start of the season had only claimed the position of sub. Like all teams, they were obliged to field at least two human players, which – with the exception of Vince – had proven to be no problem.

He wanted it. He did not know what 'it' was, but he wanted it. He wanted it so badly that the night before the game he tried a new enhancer. It was marketed as a supplement, and that was enough to convince him. This was his time, and these would help them prove it.

Except they did not. A placebo confidence drove him to not only overstep the line – in some instances quite literally – but get battered by the opposition round after round. After a thorough seeing-to by a cheetah, he received another seeing-to by the medical staff.

The game was over. He was fuming. He kicked the door of the locker rooms open.

“'Sup, Slut? Here to get hit by more balls?" Rev said, without even turning to look.

“Fuck off. If you weren't such a tosser maybe we would have won," Vince replied.

It was a small room: a room good for victories. The walls felt close and the showers were connected by a narrow corridor, so the mood of the room echoed off of itself. The others had gone home already.

It was a bad room for defeat. Rev ran his fingers through his mane, bollock-naked in the centre of the floor. His fur, typically a chestnut colour, was darkened by sweat. He had clearly been playing his best.

Rev shrugged, back still turned towards Vince, “Look, it's not my fault you choked. We can't all be be gods." He smirked, flicking his neck to the side to see the handiwork of his words.

Vince leered from under the ball of cotton wool taped to his forehead. He hated him. He always hated him. The way he walked. The way he talked. The way he played. Fuck, even the way he would groom himself after a game put knives on Vince's tongue. Rev would roll those mounds of muscle up and down his back and shoulders, stretching his legs across the bench until his ass-cheeks frowned and his sack slapped from thigh to thigh.

He would wear a towel only around the coach, but as soon as they left the room, that enormous horse cock just flopped around as if he was some sort of barnyard animal. When they won, he would walk up to the other guys on the team, grinning, as fifteen inches hung between them, patting them on the back and congratulating them on how great a job they did – even though Rev did most of the work.

It was the most disingenuous celebration or commiseration Vince had ever seen. Rev would do anything to stand close to him, especially when he joined the first team, ruffling his hair with just enough force to angle his head downwards at what was an already-eye-level cock, thicker than his arm and muskier than an armpit.

When they won, it was tolerable. He hated to admit it, but it was sometimes even preferable. He was ripped and taller than most by four feet. On some nights, when he was feeling especially jubilant, Vince would close his eyes and think of that gorgeous horse physique...

He growled, as best as a human could: now he was angry and hard. He grabbed the hem of his shirt, slinging it overhead with one arm as he yanked off his shorts and underwear with the other. His cock hardened fully, bubbling with pre-cum in an upwards curve. It was four inches in length, circumcised, and part of the reason why he hated Rev so much. His skin was pasty and his pubes untidy. His ass-crack was fuzzy with hair that he had never quite got the hang of maintaining.

'I should have been better... I should have been a horse.'

His chest felt hot and his eyes were burning. He was sick of being treated like second best. He was sick of being treated like some bitch by a horse who disrespected the privilege of their own being.

Vince's arms just about reached as he pulled Rev's shoulder around. Rev raised his arms, “Woah there, big guy." He looked down, unaccustomed to seeing Vince nude, before bringing a palm over his snout. He snickered, distracted long enough by Vince's miniscule dick that by the time he noticed the malice in his stance, Vince's hands gripped his Adam's apple.

They collapsed onto the wall. Rev pushed Vince's face to the side with one arm, tearing off the cotton and tape. His other hand pushed upwards against both of his wrists. His knees swung upwards, but the bench he would so proudly display himself upon tilted his body backwards, throwing him off balance. With both hands strangling him, Vince pushed him down until he struggled to stay at eye-level.

“You are the worst," Vince spat, “You are literally the worst being I have ever met." The tendons of his arms jutted out as he pressed harder. The longer he held him there, the softer that cocky look in Rev's eye became. He tried to kick, while punching into his chest, but he had played a hard game ten minutes before and his oxygen was dwindling.

Every inch of Vince's body felt like it was on fire. A pain in his chest like indigestion gurgled aloud, and for a moment he thought he was going to vomit. It seared up his neck before pounding down his arteries until his calves and biceps trembled. The cut on his forehead stung as badly as his ego. He looked down at Rev, who sat, eyes half-lidded, like a hooker used and flaccid.

He felt like he could kill him. He wanted him to cease being. With less resistance, he angled his shoulders downwards, thrusting his hips between Rev's pectoral muscles. Vince's pecker slid against his fur like a pool ball across its table, leaving a tiny trail of mess across his body. His cock head was swollen and twitching beyond fantasy, yet it barely matched even one of Rev's nipples in girth.

“Great game today, bud!" Vince mimicked, “Expecting a lot more great things from you this season!" He released one fist from Rev's neck, knuckles white with rage. Rev managed half a breath before the other fist clenched his windpipe closed once more. Vince patted him roughly on the shoulder, then on the head, ruffling his groomed mane and bending the length of his neck down until his muzzle brushed against his tip.

Rev tried to spit, dribbling saliva down his chin. He reached both arms to Vince's own neck, succeeding only in a half-grasp with one hand, while the other pressed against his chest. His arms felt heavy. His vision was a haze of blue-purple lines.

Vince slapped the hands away, propping one foot up on the bench to get better reach for his cock. “No, don't you dare," he thrust over Rev's nose now. His cock was so meagre in width it probably could have slid into a nostril, but Vince had other plans. “Open wide, buddy!"

Rev pursed his lips. There was no way this could be happening to him. A human did not beat up a horse. For a moment his eyes closed, but when they opened again he found the wet meat of his attacker on his tongue. There was enough room to fit it in four times over, but once was already too much for him to bear. He shivered, a wetness forming around his eyes. Something felt wrong, from the bottom of his belly. When he looked down he could see his prized possession standing to attention: a mottled, twenty-two inch cock flared to stiffness.

“Suck it," Vince commanded, “You know you want it. Why else would you run around like a fucking fairy?" Rev's thighs cramped. For fear of blacking out, he brought his tongue across its underside once. It tasted bitter. As he did so, Vince's teeth rattled and he brought his hips forward, losing grip of his throat enough to offer a quarter breath.

He opened his maw wider now, letting Vince slap it over his taste-buds. Another breath. His cock was so small that it barely even counted as giving a blow-job, he thought. He would do it... to breathe.

There was great difficulty in doing so given the curve of his length, but Vince slid all the way inside, relishing the warmth of a hole that had previously caused so much grief. Rev wrapped his lips around the base, but its tip kept brushing over the roof of his mouth. It was an unusual sensation, somewhere between a tickle and a gag. Rev coughed up a mouthful of fluid. Vince lessened his grip just a little more.

“Ah... I bet you're enjoying this," Vince teased, “Holy shit, look how hard you are." The words were intended humiliate him. He had no idea what he expected when taking on the behemoth of a horse, but the last thing he imagined would be for him to get hard – and was that pre-cum? He looked down at Rev, who automatically bobbed the entrance of his mouth over his entire package: balls and all.

The hand he held on Rev's neck was only a precaution now. He was breathing, slowly, but remained conscious. Every couple of thrusts he would gag again, astonished that such a short dick could even trigger the reflex.

Vince's forearms were dark with blood-flow. His nostrils flared. Without so much as a second thought, he kept one hand on the top of Rev's head and moved the other to his shaft.

As if electrified, Rev's back arched outwards and he groaned, vibrating his jaw around Vince's length. It felt so good – it should not, but it did. Like a farmhand exploring their barn's stallion, Vince trailed his fingers up from half-way, before gripping the base of his flare. His strokes were small and hard, stimulating his most sensitive area as if to gather a sample of spunk.

Everything felt so wrong. Everything felt so right. Whenever Rev would take a girl home with him, or when he masturbated alone, he would thrust his cock between both hands, growling as his bollocks slammed into them or whipped up around into the base of his cock. But this – this was...

“Pathetic," Vince said, pushing him down even harder. With Rev's head so low and with a hard enough thrust, he hit the back of his throat. Rev's eyes widened. Vince grunted, unsure whether to be amazed or confused.

In response, Rev whinnied: a high-pitched yelp that bounced around the room to come back and turn Vince on even more. He squeezed the flare faster, feeling himself near climax. His prostate throbbed the entire lower half of his body. His heartbeat rung in his ears like the beat of hooves.

That was when he noticed it: a small patch of skin on his right arm with thicker hair than the rest. He watched, enthralled, as the fine black hairs on his forearm browned. It spurred him to fuck harder. Something in his gut told him to keep going, to go faster, to never go back.

He cast his head back, lips bouncing off one another in a loud exhale. As his cock plunged into Rev's throat, he realized it was a sound he did not recognise: in fact, it was distinctly animalistic. Below him, he heard a whimper.

It took a groan of pleasure for Vince to stop himself cumming there and then. The patch of thickened hair on his arm was at least up to his elbow and darkening fast. His fingertips were gloved in a chestnut fur that was hot to touch.

“Oh my fucking god," Vince said, surprised to find his voice a few notes deeper. In his mind, the pieces were starting to fall into place: the supplements, the side-effects, the five star reviews that he skimmed through. He grinned down at Rev, who was looking rather pale.

Relinquishing his grip from both Rev's head and cock, he smoothed his new hand over his own body. The warmth of touch combined with the sizzling sensation in his chest as it rounded new areas: his biceps became more swollen by the second; his abdomen, once flat and soft, had a sturdiness and sleekness to it; his chest, which had been concave and white until moments ago, now barrelled out twice in a set of tanned pectoral muscles.

He now knew what was happening and he loved every second of it. Despite being freed from his grip, Rev continued servicing the cock at his lips. His previously dark coat, which often had a sheen in the light, began to yellow from his snout to his shoulders, and from his cock to his midriff. Vince stroked down the back of his mane, wrapping locks of shorter, blonde hair around his fingers.

Rev's breathing was erratic without so much as a single grip from Vince. A voice in his mind told him to run, to fight, to do anything – but every time it spoke up the delicious pre-seed of Vince's cock would trickle down into his belly, sealing away any words of discontent. Something was happening to his body – or was it to his mind? He looked up at the man before him, whose face was streaked with a lustrous brown fur that seemed all too familiar.

He chuffed quietly, shaking his head from side to side to forget about his doubts. It felt as though his cock was getting stroked faster and faster, with each pump going further down his shaft. His eyes, heavy-lidded still, but for different reasons, drifted down to his prized cock.

Huh, that was weird. He could have sworn it was being stroked, yet... his length twitched and leaked all on its own, the pink-black mottle of its surface more defined than he remembered – and for some reason it was around fifteen inches, the same as when soft. Rev was definitely losing his mind.

Vince took note of his confused expression, reaching down to stroke under his chin with one hand, while his other resumed its milking. Rev must have been sucking harder, because with each thrust into his mouth, Vince could see his cheeks bulge out. He smiled as he noticed that those balls he once had to listen to slap to-and-fro seemed duller than before. Their leathery fuzz hugged closer to Rev's body than he remembered, their skin less strained by the spheres beneath it.

He squeezed them to check, tugging them away from Rev's underside, but Rev yelped and looked up at him pleadingly. Now that he had them in his hands, Vince reckoned they were probably more blonde than brown. They lacked the firmness he once imagined they had, and their weight was unremarkable.

There was one thing he had to check. He tilted Rev's snout upwards, stroking along its entirety with one hand. “Stay," he commanded.

With whines from Rev, Vince retreated his cock back from his maw. He eased his hips back. Chewing his lip, he looked down.

'Please. Please. Please.'

The first inch was dark and wide, but his cock had always been like that. With the second, it continued, Rev's lips futilely trying to stay wrapped around it. “I said stay," Vincent shouted, stalling for time. He started to get nervous. The third inch grazed over Rev's teeth – but his snout as a whole seemed narrower and shorter, so it was still too early to tell.

Vincent swallowed. The fourth inch: an aspect of his body that had always been a limiting factor for his confidence. Too often, guys had expressed interest in him, only to lose it after realizing his cock was so pathetic. It was hard to be enticing when there were horses out in the world, after all.

The fourth inch snagged behind those same teeth, and for a brief moment he thought it was his cock-head that got stuck. Still, it retreated: five inches, six, seven, eight... He started to pant in anticipation, looking down at Rev's less impressive package, which could now easily pass for an extremely endowed human cock, or an average-sized ponies.

Nine: the medial ring strained against Rev's lips, spilling forth saliva and precum. Vincent felt like he had just won the lottery, raising his arms in the air. With the exception of a few white patches, his entire naked body was coated in chestnut fur and thick, sensitive muscles. His silhouette was shapely, with angles in all the places he used to wish they were, and – he could not be sure, but he actually felt like he had gained a couple of feet in height? His mind spun and his thoughts were quick-fire, as new synapses strengthened in his mind to reassure him that this was his body now. This was his life.

So pleased with himself, he reached down to jerk Rev's not-so-prized cock. In between tugs he grinned as he watched it try to smack against his belly, but simply lack the length or girth to do so. The stallion was decidedly less-so stallion. Vince chuckled to himself as he thought back to videos he had seen in documentaries where horses or ponies would try to penetrate a female, but simply be too small and laughable to do so.

The reverie was so pleasant that he forgot he still had more cock to take out. He did the final inches faster, sighing in bliss as the flared end of his seventeen inch rod choked the pony beneath him. Fuck, it felt so good to put him in his place.

“You want this, don't you?" Vince said, dragging the entire length of his cock over the blonde bitch below.

Rev sat back on the bench, mouth agape and eyes rolling in the back of his head as Vince continued to stroke him – well, what was left of him, at least. He tried to nod, transfixed by the beauty of the physique in front of him. His chest was no longer double-barrelled with pecs: it was more of a single-barrel, if anything. His belly, once the epitome of washboard abs, sagged. His stallion cock was too curved to be considered pedigree. By contrast, Vince's was perfection: offering just enough curve and angle to make Rev's ass twitch in anticipation.

Rev's lips quivered in an attempt to form words, “Y-yes... Please, I–“ he flushed, cock pulsing faster in Vince's hand, “–I need this, Sir." He spoke quietly, in a voice that could easily have passed as a teenagers.

Before he could close his mouth, Vince impaled him on his cock, flicking a newfound tail and mane from side to side. He chuffed, hammering the back of Rev's head against the wall as each and every inch of meat pushed inside him, promising more of a delicious seed that would wash his doubts away. He choked and gargled but Vince did not yield. Only when his flare was half-way down his esophagus and his balls graced his chin did he pull back – to immediately thrust back in.

He never imagined sex could be so loud – then again, he never imagined that he would become a real stallion. As his grape-fruit sized bollocks unloaded inside his new receptacle, the final shreds of a previous life grew their fur. Orgasm rattled through his body and he roared: a whinny that would put any other beast to shame.

As the first sprays of ejaculate doused Rev's innards, it filled all empty space inside him, shooting free from his mouth with equal force. Vince clasped both hands around his lips, sealing the entrance to ensure no drop of cum was wasted. The chugging of cum-shot after cum-shot filled Rev's stomach, warming his loins and pushing him over the edge. His cock, around eight inches in length if measured generously, spouted its own miniature load over the light fur of his chest.

When he pulled back, Vincent was astounded to see Rev fingering his own hole, cock still wobbling in release. As he watched, the fingering slowed, as his arms became tired. Vincent smirked.

“Please..." Rev begged as his biceps succumbed to over-exertion, unable to reach his hands low enough, “Please. Sir. Master. I'll do– I'll do anything."

Vincent licked his lips, pulling Rev's legs up and forwards to look over his buttocks. They were shapeless and soft under his body, with a convulsing pink hole between them. Vincent's cock had not lost any of its hardness – if anything, it was a couple of inches longer. Before, he might have been spent, but now he felt like he could go again, and again, and again. He angled his flare against Rev's hole, lubing it up with excess semen.

He looked into Rev's eyes. Rev looked back, his brown eyes subdued to a dim hazel. As their gazes met, they shared a thought:

'I could get used to this.'

As stallion and pony stood locked together, panic shot across Rev's face. Vincent turned, smiling that cocky stallion smile. Nothing could ruin today.

“Yo, is anyone still in here? You guys have to stop going home before the post-game pep tal–

“Hey, Coach," Vince shot over his shoulder, “I think we better make some roster changes before the next match." In the tightness of the locker room, the scent of sex was overpowering.

“Ah, er, yeah! Don't worry, I'll, um, catch you another time," Coach offered, slamming the door as he fled.

It was a room good for victories.