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Perch hummed as he climbed out of the cab, arms bristling with bags and packages. He waved an awkward goodbye to the cabbie -- almost throwing half of his goods to the ground as he did so -- and made his way to the property entrance. An awkwardly-extended elbow rang the doorbell, and the young stallion waited.

"Yes?" Bucephalus' voice sounded flat through the intercom.

"Daddy, it's me," Perch replied cheerily. "Can you please buzz me in?"

A long sigh carried over the line. "Did you lose your key again?"

"No!" Although...where was his key? "I went shopping and I got a lot of things and I can't open the door without putting it all down and..."

The door buzzed open halfway through his explanation, and he threw a quick "Thank you, Daddy!" at the speaker as he pushed it open with his butt. He hummed all the way up the path to the front door, every step a rustle of paper, chiffon, and silk. The front door itself proved another challenge; after some intense thought, the horse lifted a hoof, balancing precariously on the other, and managed to depress the handle and push the door open.

Bucephalus was sitting on the couch in the living room, sipping a mug of tea and reading a magazine. He looked up at Perch as he scrambled indoors, a single eyebrow rising as he took in the mountain of goods the tan stallion had brought with him.

"Having fun with my credit card?" he asked. It was a chilly day, but temperature never seemed to faze the bulky stallion. He was dressed in a too-tight t-shirt that looked about to rip open in numerous places; he claimed that nobody made clothes for a horse of his size, which Perch suspected was only half true. He'd found someone to make him a tailored suit for The Bold Equestrian, after all. The young stallion suspected Daddy simply liked the way it made his muscles stand out. So did he, though, so he wasn't going to push too hard to make the big horse find clothes that fit him.

"Yes, Daddy," Perch replied breathlessly. "Thank you, Daddy!" He dropped his purchases onto the dining room table and hurried across to give Bucephalus a kiss on the head from behind the couch. The big stallion nickered in satisfaction, reaching up with one hand to cup his son's face. "I got you some things, too!" Perch continued, stroking the warm hand that rested against him. "You'll really like them."

"My t-shirts are fine, Perch," the Friesian rumbled, and Perch almost spilt the beans. He clamped his mouth shut, remembering what the message had said, and shook his head violently, sending his mane flying.

"If you say so, Daddy," he allowed himself to say, giving his father another peck on the top of his mane and rushing back to the table to collect up the packages. "I'll show you the presents soon. Just like...um..." No! Shush! "You'll see! Okay, see you later!"

"You're fucking exhausting me and I'm not even doing anything," the dark stallion said distractedly as Perch dashed upstairs, but the rest of his words were lost behind the bedroom door the young horse pushed closed behind him.

Perch was excited. More than he'd ever been since meeting Bucephalus. Today was the day. The last few weeks had almost killed him, but he'd held it together. Daddy would be super proud of him for that. He hadn't given anything away, and finally, today...he could do it all.

The young stallion tossed his packages onto the bed and jumped next to them. He pulled out his phone and tapped quickly through the messages. He'd read it one more time. To make sure he'd gotten everything right. That he hadn't missed anything the previous fifty times he'd read it.

When he reached it, he lay on his back, holding the phone in the air above him, and read.

From: [unknown sender]

Hello, son.

I'm sending this from a secret number, because I can't risk someone seeing it on my phone.

I need you to read this message very carefully. I've been thinking about us a lot lately, Perch. Our first anniversary is coming up, and I want it to be as special as you are, son. I know I can be a grumpy, mean, demanding, nasty, vindictive, arrogant, bitchy horse who treats other people like garbage and doesn't deserve any of the success or wealth he's got, but that's only to hide how I really feel. You know I care about you, even if I'd never say it out loud. And what better time to show that than our anniversary?

I've planned something really special for us, Perch, but you have to do exactly as I say. In the bottom drawer next to my side of the bed, right at the back, you'll find a necklace wrapped in paper. It's a funny-looking one, with a gap at the front. It's called a torc. It's a type of collar, and this collar is very special, son. I had it made especially for you, Perch.

Because of this special time, I'm going to do something extra-special for you. I want you to surprise me with the torc, Perch. Don't tell me when, or where. Simply sneak up one day and slip it around my neck. The metal is thin, but strong; it should fit around my stupid fat neck. As soon as I feel you put it on, I'll know you're ready -- and from then on, until the torc comes off, I'll do exactly as you say, Perch. Absolutely anything you want. You only need to ask me to do, and I'll do it. No limits. But make sure I don't see it coming. If you spoil the surprise for me, it will ruin everything, and I will never forgive you. Don't forget.

I've been your daddy for the last year, Perch, but it's time you stepped up. I want you to put the torc on me, and then...I'll be your slave, son. I want you to take control, and make me do whatever you like -- plus a few specific things I want. I want you to dock my tail, son, so people can see I'm your little mare. I want you to dress me in some of your pretty clothes, and I want you to take me outside, so people can see me. Show me off; make me do embarrassing things. It'll be fun!

And I want you to take me to Stud Farm. It's where we first met -- do you remember? I want all the horses to see you in charge of me. And let them do whatever they want to me, son. I want to be your pretty little sex slave, and slaves can't say no, Perch. So, you better not ask for permission. If you ask me, I will say no, to remind you.

Don't ask. Just do it. I'm giving you permission now to do anything you like to me.

But the main thing, Perch, the main thing is...make sure you fuck me, son. I want to be your little bitch-mare for a change. Fuck Daddy like you fucked Sven, and he'll show you how much he likes it. Fuck him good and hard, and leave him dripping, son.

I promise that things will never be the same between us again after this, Perch.

Love, Daddy

[message end]

The horse gave a quiet squeal of excitement, and let his arms fall to the sides, onto the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, dreaming. This was going to be so much fun! After weeks of planning, he'd gone out that morning to buy some pretty clothes that had a chance of fitting his massive father, plus a few little touches of his own. He knew all about looking pretty. Daddy had said 'anything', and Perch wasn't going to let him down. The kind words in the message had made Perch cry, the first time he'd read it, and he'd immediately gone to his father and given him a massive hug. When the big stallion asked him what the fuck he was doing, he'd sniffled and smiled and said nothing. Exactly like he'd been told. He wouldn't be the one to ruin this for them. He'd be the best son ever.

He'd dragged it out for weeks. Doing it too soon would have been obvious, although Daddy had done an amazing job of acting as if nothing had changed. Eventually, the strain had grown too much, and Perch had decided: it would be this weekend. He'd do it all then. And now it was here, and it was about to happen, and he could hardly believe it.

He flipped over onto his belly and slid the bottom drawer of his own bedside table open. Carefully, he lifted out the torc that he'd moved there right after receiving the message. It was a beautiful thing, made of strands of gold and silver wire that twisted around one another, intertwined, with small bulbs of metal on each end. A pretty necklace for his handsome father. Of course. Only the best for Bucephalus. He placed it carefully on the bedside table.

With a focus that belied his shivery excitement, the stallion unpacked his purchases, laying them out on the bed one by one. The pale blue skirt, fitted with elastic in case it still didn't quite fit the tall stallion's wide waist. Some ribbons, to tie into his father's mane. Horsehair trimmers to dock his tail with, and some fine silk string to bind it after. A beautiful pink shirt that wouldn't even reach halfway down his chest. And, finally, a nice long dildo with a vibrating option and fastening straps that could wrap around a waist, that he could insert into the big black stallion and leave there for hours. Just like Bucephalus did to him.

"You're going to be so pretty, Daddy," Perch whispered to himself, bouncing up and down on the corner of the bed, clasping his hands together tightly. He was excited to give Bucephalus what he wanted -- and especially excited to get a chance to play under his father's tail. Bucephalus had never offered before, and Perch had never thought to ask. But first Daddy had let him fuck Sven, and now...this. It had been his plan all along, clearly. The young stallion wasn't going to let the opportunity go unused.

Thinking about what was to come was making him harden up, and he licked his lips and fondled himself. It was a little earlier than he'd wanted to do it...but he couldn't wait any longer. He'd been so good. He deserved this.

They both did.

Grabbing the torc, the horse slipped off the bed, opened the bedroom door and peered out. No sign of Bucephalus. He sauntered out and down the passageway, hands clasped tightly behind his back, and peered down through the railings at the lower floor. There. The horse was in the kitchen, making some more tea. Perfect.

Perch tried to be quiet as he walked downstairs, setting each hoof down on the steps with exaggerated care. Bucephalus was engrossed in his steeping, and if he did hear his son, he paid him no mind. Perch slipped closer. His arms were shivering from excitement and fear. He couldn't let Bucephalus know. Quiet, so quiet...almost there...

He raised the torc behind the big stallion -- having to reach up on hooftip to match his height -- and pushed it awkwardly on around his neck. He'd done such a good job of making it a surprise, Bucephalus didn't even seem to realise what was happening, for he raised a hand to his neck and started saying, "What the f--"

And then he stiffened, and froze, and stopped talking.

Perch hardly dared breathe. His father didn't move an inch, one hand still holding the tea strainer, the other on his neck. The only thing that moved was the steam that wafted up from the teapot.

"Daddy?" the young horse said eventually.

"Yes," Bucephalus replied. His voice was odd; inflectionless, and calmer than normal. Perch had never heard this tone from him before. It was as if everything he usually said was tinged with some other emotion, and only now was it stripped away. It made him sound uncomfortably robotic.

"Use my name, please, Daddy," Perch said.

"Yes, Percheron." Perch frowned. His father was really taking the do exactly as I say thing very literally.

"No, Daddy. Call me Perch, or...or son."

"Yes, Perch. Son." Well, that was better.

"Turn around, please, Daddy."

Bucephalus turned as instructed. His eyes were staring ahead, and they looked as calm as his voice had sounded. Perch found himself looking into a face he almost didn't know. His father was always in control, and it showed in his expression. Now, though...he looked relaxed. Calm. Older. Or -- no, not older. He simply looked his true age. It was unsettling -- but Perch pushed it from his mind. He was far too eager to begin trying out his new toy; he simply couldn't think where to begin.

He pondered for a moment. "Um...put your arms in the air, Daddy." Two arms flew up into the air instantly, and Perch squealed. It was real! "Oh, Daddy, we're going to have so much fun!" Perch hugged his father's midsection tightly, feeling his muscles through the tight fabric, and knowing what to do next. Why wait?

He stepped back. "Daddy, take your clothes off." His father began to undress, discarding his shirt, pants and underwear in moments. He stood calmly before his son, tall and dark and naked, his cock fully retracted. Simply beautiful. He looked like a black marble statue, and Perch's body responded as it always did. His father's tail flicked from side to side occasionally, and Perch eyed it out. Don't ask for permission. "Alright, Daddy, let's get started. Carry me upstairs to the bedroom."

The big horse reached down and picked him up like a sack of potatoes, cradling the smaller form in his arms as he carried him upstairs. Perch nuzzled into his father's mane, sighing happily. "We're going to have sooooo much fun, Daddy!" he whispered to his father. "Aren't we? Yes, we are!"

"Yes, son."

Perch ducked his head to avoid hitting it on the top of the door as they entered the bedroom. "Be careful, Daddy," he said with a huff. The stallion didn't respond, walking to the centre of the room and halting, still holding Perch tightly. When he made no further action, Perch huffed again. Daddy was really acting like a big dummy. "Put me down here, Daddy," the tan stallion said with an exaggerated voice.

The big horse lowered Perch to the floor, and the small horse scampered across to the bed, looking greedily down at his playthings. Oh, which to do first, which to do first...

As he tried to choose, he realised that something felt...off. It took him a few moments to place it, but then he turned, looked back up at Bucephalus thoughtfully. The bigger horse stared off into the middle distance, unseeing. "Daddy," Perch said, sweetly, "I think...this might be the longest you've stood around me without saying a single sarcastic thing." He sauntered over to the big, nude horse, running his fingers along the ridges of the Friesian's chest muscles. "Because you can't," he said softly. "Canyou?"

"No, Perch."

The full extent of the power he'd been given was unfolding in the smaller stallion's mind. He bit his lip, looking up at his father, and reached up to grasp one of his father's nipples between two fingertips. He started to twist it, gradually rotating his hand as he stared at Bucephalus. The bigger horse's expression did not change at first, but as Perch's tweaking reached obviously painful levels, his face took on a fiercer aspect: teeth gripped, hissing breath.

But he didn't say a word, or attempt to stop the smaller horse.

Perch released his father's flesh, a thrill running through him. This massive stallion, this perfect mountain of masculinity was his...plaything. Until -- well, until he so desired, now that he thought about it. Daddy hadn't said a single thing about a cut-off time. Perch could keep him like this for days...or weeks. Or longer. And he'd do anything...

"Get down on your knees, Daddy," Perch commanded. The horse obliged, his head at the same level as his son's belly. Perch reached down to loosen his pants and pulled his penis out. It was rapidly hardening as he thought of what he was going to do, and he slapped the blood-thickened flesh against his father's face with a meaty noise. "Are you a slut, Daddy?"

"No, son."

Slap. "Yes, you are. You're a big, greedy, horny slut -- because I say so." Perch rubbed his flare over Bucephalus' lips, wetting them with his pre-cum. "You're my slut until I say otherwise, Daddy. Alright?"

"Yes, son."

"Lick your lips." Perch watched his father licking off his pre-cum, his mind was racing. Dressing his father up as a slutty horse was one thing: he'd look the part, but Perch hadn't thought beyond that. He'd been so excited to play pretty doll dress-up with Daddy, he hadn't wondered how his father would behave. Now he realised the clothes were only half the equation. Normal Bucephalus in slutty clothes wouldn't have changed anything. He'd still have exuded that aura of dominance and power that followed him everywhere, even with ribbons in his hair and a skirt on.

But the torc meant that Daddy was suppressing that whole part of himself, and Perch could put...well, whatever he liked in its place. And he had just the thing.

"Say it, then," he said. He slapped the kneeling stallion's muzzle again. "Say that you're a horny, filthy slut who only wants dick. A femmy stallion who, um, who loves cock more than anything, and..." Inspiration struck. "And beg me for mine. And make me believe it. You slut!" He put emotion into the last word, and was proud of it. That was something Daddy would have said.

The stallion's blue eyes instantly took on an agonised expression, and his hands flew up to press against Perch's chest. "I'm a horny, filthy slut, son," he said, and his voice was desperate, and needy, like Perch had never heard from him before. "I love cock more than anything. I need to taste it...to feel it...to be fucked by it..." He took Perch's cock in his hands, looking at it like it was the only thing that could save his life.

"Prove it, bitch," Perch said, his heart racing. He was calling Daddy a slut, and a bitch, and it felt fantastic. "Suck my cock. Choke on my horse dick." Daddy liked giving him names. Perch could do that too. "Be...be my slut-Daddy." Slut-Daddy sounded nice. Perch had almost said 'fuckstallion', but then decided against it. That was the special name that Daddy had given him. He didn't want to share it with anyone.

Bucephalus reacted immediately, opening his mouth and thrusting his son's cock into it, and Perch cried out at the feeling of his father's warm throat enveloping his flesh. The big stallion didn't pause, and fully half of Perch's length was swallowed at the first attempt. The Friesian had to pause then, coughing and blinking his eyes as the thickened flesh blocked his airway. Perch looked down at him in wonder, as he continued swallowing his son's prick. "That's amazing, Daddy," he whispered, and his father looked up at him with tears and need in his eyes. "Swallow more of me, slut-Daddy," Perch told him, and giggled in delight and arousal as his father obeyed. The big horse was gripping his cock with both hands, trying to force more of it into himself, making gagging sounds every few inches. Perch watched rapturously as his pink hardness slowly disappeared inside his father.

"Is this what it feels like to be you, slut-Daddy?" he said softly, stroking his father's mane as the older horse gradually deep-throated his entire length. Perch was trying to get a handle on what he was feeling. He'd expected it to be fun to switches roles with Daddy for a bit...but he hadn't expected the rush of power that came with it. He was in control. He was never in control. And yet here he stood, being pleasured by his wonderful, hot, dominant father as he slobbered, choked, gagged on his cock as if it was the greatest member in the world. It was fantastic -- and it was only the beginning.

When Bucephalus' nose finally reached his crotch, Perch sighed and petted him. "Good slut-Daddy." The other horse waited; nostrils flaring for air, throat muscles spasming around Perch's dick. The younger stallion tried to think what Daddy would do, and then reached down to feel his father's throat. He could feel his own cock! His cock. His obedient, filial cock, swallowed by Daddy on command. Fuck. This was hot.

"What now, slut-Daddy?" he asked rhetorically. Bucephalus couldn't form a single word with the length of cock inside him. Perch thrust a little inside him, but then had a better idea. Bracing one palm against Bucephalus' forehead, he pulled out of the big stallion, who whined and tried to swallow the cock back down. "No, slut-Daddy," Perch said. "Just wait." The horse quieted, and let his son pull his length back out. It was blood-hot and slickened by his father's spit. Perch took it in one hand and started stroking it.

"You're a whore, Daddy," he said, and Bucephalus breathed his agreement. Perch's hand moved faster. "You're a needy, horny little stallion who wants his son's big cock." Bucephalus groaned and nodded, his eyes desperate, locked to the dick being stroked in front of him. "You want to taste my cum..." Perch breathed. Daddy had never swallowed his cum before, and the sight of his father as a submissive in front of him was acting like an aphrodisiac to Perch. He wasn't going to last long. "Take it then, slut-Daddy," he said urgently, and Bucephalus whimpered and pressed his face right up to his son's flare. "Gonna cover you in Perch-cum, Daddy, and you'll like it and thank me and...and...uuuu_uuhhhh_...!"

He misjudged his closeness, and his balls rose before he'd finished his improvised speech. His pink prick flared, and the first shot of white hit Bucephalus right on the forehead, splattering over the golden lock of mane that he dyed so fastidiously every few days. Bucephalus gasped and opened his mouth, and Perch's next blast landed right on target. The young stallion's body was twitching with pleasure, but his eyes were locked to his father's face and the sight of him gulping down his seed. Bucephalus' crimson tongue slipped along his dusky lips, taking in every drop of his son's horse semen and swallowing it with moans of delight. Perch squeezed hard, pumping out the rest of it, and Bucephalus twisted his head, seeming to kiss Perch's flare in his eagerness to wrap his lips around the urethra's opening and receive his son's seed straight from the source.

"Drink it, slut-Daddy," Perch said, finding a perverse delight he could not have imagined in watching his father drink his cum. "Do I taste nice, Daddy?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes..." Bucephalus breathed the words between licks that made Perch jump as his father's tongue lapped over his sensitive flare. The young horse let his head fall back and groaned.

"Oh, slut-Daddy...I love you..." And as he said the words, he wondered.

Bucephalus was silent, still licking Perch's cockhead, taking in the last dribbles of cum. Perch looked back down at him. "Daddy," he said, feeling his excitement grow, "tell me the truth." He licked his lips. "Do you love your son?"

"Yes." Bucephalus said it instantly, and Perch's heart leapt. It couldn't be that easy.

"Say it back to me?" he asked. It was one thing to agree, but to say it...

"I love my son," the kneeling horse said simply, and Perch's eyes teared up.

"Oh, Daddy..."

He'd known it. Daddy had always been so dismissive of love, mocking it and people who felt it, telling him it was weakness. But ever since Perch had taken back a modicum of control and independence, he'd known he could convince him otherwise. The smaller stallion knelt and took his father in a tight grip, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"I love you so much, Daddy," he murmured. "I'll be good, I promise. I'll be the best. I'll do everything you asked and make you so happy and we'll be together forever."

He hugged the silent stallion for a few moments longer. He didn't hug back, and Perch didn't tell him to. Daddy was being amazing. Perch didn't need his hug to know he cared.

Eventually, he got to his feet. One finger wiped away a tear of happiness, and dabbed his father's nose with the wetness. "Boop," he said, and giggled. The horse looked back silently, and Perch winked at him. It would be their secret. "Stand up, cutie. Let's play dress-up!"

The enormous stallion got to his feet, his cock swaying between his legs. It had thickened up during their play, and Perch lifted it with one hand, marvelling again at his father's endowment. "Such a beautiful cock, Daddy. A pity you won't get to use it today, huh?" He giggled again. This was so much fun! He dropped the weighty flesh and skipped over to the bed, looking down at the items he'd purchased, waving a finger between them, trying to choose.

He made a decision, and reached for the trimmers. "Turn around, Daddy," he said in what he hoped was a sultry tone. "Let's shorten that awkward tail for you..."

Half an hour later, it was almost complete. Perch walked slowly around the looming bulk of his father, admiring his handiwork. A short piece of tail -- with most of the length removed by the trimmer -- hung behind his father, braided with the fine pink silk strings he'd bought. Around his waist, the stallion's size made the elastic of the pale blue skirt strain -- but it held. It also bulged obscenely under the pressure of the stallion's cock; Daddy's dick had partially retreated, but given his length, that still meant the flare was easily visible hanging below the bottom of the fabric. Countless ribbons had been tied into his mane, making him look even more feminine, and the pink shirt completed the effect. Daddy's nipples stood out like nails through the thin chiffon, and his flat belly was entirely uncovered. The sleeves had been the biggest problem; even the extra-large size hadn't fitted over those biceps. Perch simply snipped them off, giving his father a beautiful pink wifebeater instead.

The smaller stallion stopped in front of Bucephalus and clapped his hands. "You're so cute, Daddy!" he squealed. "The boys are going to love you." He leaned across and pulled the final item closer. "Just one more thing to do." He stroked the dildo lovingly. Apparently, it was called "The Slutmaker". The leery salesdeer that had sold it to him had guaranteed that after an hour of this inside anyone, they'd be begging for more. Perch could believe it; it was nearly as long as Daddy, with ribs and nubs along the length that would hit the pleasure spots of thirty different species. He'd wanted to try it out himself, but had refrained. It was for Daddy, not him. He was a good son.

He walked around, behind his father, and stared at the hole that was on display for all to see -- now that most of his father's tail hairs had been cut off. Bucephalus' ass was gorgeous, of course. He didn't neglect his squats at the gym. Two firm mounds of dark horsebutt, curving inward at the cleft to expose a perfect doughnut, round and tight. Perch drank the sight in, remembering how Sven had felt, wrapped around his cock. How tight, and warm, and thirsty for his cum...

Fuck Daddy like you fucked Sven, and he'll show you how much he likes it. Fuck him good and hard, and leave him dripping, son...

"Later," he whispered, a thrill running through him. That was going to be something special.

He pulled a drawer open and took out a bottle of lube from the many packed inside. Daddy called it Perch's Slut Drawer. He squirted a little out onto his palm and wetted a finger with it, then -- with a shaking hand -- moved it closer to Bucephalus' ass. The dark doughnut waited; musky, inviting. It felt warm when Perch touched it, and when he slid inside...

Bucephalus gave a groan of pleasure unlike anything Perch had heard from him before. It was instantly different from the noises his son had become used to during sex. Those bestial grunts and snarled words and snickered pants. This was...need. Pure need, as simple and clear as Perch himself. The young horse pushed his finger deeper, and his father gasped and...whimpered. It was a beautiful sound.

"Do you want me to go deeper, Daddy?" he asked. The horse's braided mane bobbed as he nodded, and Perch pulled his finger out, making the bigger horse grunt and try to push back. He wanted it so badly. Perch was thrilled.

"Say it, Daddy," he commanded his father. "Tell me what you want me to do to your ass, and -- and say it like me." Another flash of inspiration that he felt Daddy would appreciate. "You're me now, slut-Daddy. You're Bucephalus the fuckstallion. Horny and needy for cock. Show me your subby side, slut-Daddy. You're as pretty as a girl now...but your voice doesn't fit. Let me hear you giggle a bit." Bucephalus made a half-hearted noise and Perch frowned. "No, slut-Daddy. That's not right. Give me a proper slut-giggle. One that says, 'you're making my ass twitch, and I want you to fill it'."

Bucephalus took a gasped breath, followed by a high-pitched trill of a giggle, and Perch shivered with delight. "Yes, slut-Daddy," he said lustily. "More of that. Fuckstallions are sluts, Daddy. You're a slut now. You know how they are. So, act like one."

The words transformed his father. He turned to look over his shoulder at Perch, blue eyes wide and sparkling. "Please finger me, Perch," he begged. His voice was panting and pitched higher now. He sounded like a young colt now -- a colt with a fucking amazing gym regimen. "My ass needs your touch," he whimpered. "I have to be filled. Oh, fuck, I need it so badly...please?" He lowered his chest, raising his ass in the air. The stub of tail left to him twitched aside, and the doughnut under it relaxed and spread, invitingly. "Please, sir, please..."

Sir.

The honorific burned down Perch's spine, setting his body on fire. He pushed two fingers against his father's asshole and thrust them inside, making the huge stallion squeal and cry out like a mare taking a stallion's dick for the first time. "Yes, sir, yes!" he cried breathily, his excitement arousing Perch even more. "Finger me, sir! Fuck my sluthole!"

Perch's lubed fingers were a blur as they slid in and out of Bucephalus, making the bigger stallion moan and gasp and beg him to go deeper. Perch's cock was rock-hard, and he desperately wanted to fuck his father. This squeaky, pretty, needy stallion-slut was so different from the commanding horse he'd gotten to know and love -- and it was turning him on to a ridiculous degree. But he couldn't. He had to be strong. Later, later.

He jerked his fingers out and Bucephalus gave a cry of loss. "No, sir, please don't stop, I need more," he begged again. "I'm so empty, I need something in me..."

"You'll like this, then, bitch," the young stallion growled, and pressed the flared head of The Slutmaker to his father's shiny doughnut. He didn't even get a chance to push it in: Bucephalus grunted and pushed back as soon as he felt the silicone against him, and with a delicious wet squelch, the toy's flare disappeared into his father.

Perch stared at the sight with amazement. Daddy hadn't even been that loose. He'd taken it like...well, like Perch. "This isn't your first cock, is it, slut-Daddy?" he murmured. The stallion didn't hear him, and didn't answer: he was focused on pressing back against the toy, sucking more of it inside him. Perch fed it to him, inch by massive inch, watching in awe as his father's ass swallowed more and more of the purple monster, until the flared base bumped up against his ass.

Bucephalus had slowly lowered his front as the toy went deeper, and now had his face pressing into the blankets. His muscles looked tense, and they'd quiver every so often. When Perch started pulling the Slutmaker out of him slowly, he gave a deep groan that rose in tone and volume with every vanishing inch. By the time the firm flare popped out of him -- alongside a splattering of lube -- he was screaming, hands gripping the duvet so tightly it looked like he was trying to suffocate them. But he didn't speak, and he didn't look back. The scream faded into panting, and he simply waited, ass in the air, hole flexing open and shut.

Like a proper slut.

Perch could have played with him all day. The necklace was the most incredible gift he could ever have imagined from Daddy. His mind was racing with ideas, plans, naughty things to do to his pet stallion. But Daddy had asked for some specific things. There would be time later for the rest.

Perch pushed the dildo back inside Bucephalus, earning a moan and more blanket-twisting. When it was fully settled, he pressed the button that activated the vibration action. Bucephalus tensed -- and then melted, flopping down onto the bed and shivering as the toy started to work on whatever sensitive areas he had inside himself. Perch walked to the side and slapped his father's head.

"Hey! Get up, slut! No resting!"

The horse rose immediately, and Perch made the toy fast around his father's waist with the provided straps. On a regular person, there'd be no sign of anything peculiar under clothes. On Bucephalus, the effect was slightly ruined by his cock standing out hard in front of him, tenting the skirt and drooling pre-cum like a brook. Perch considered the arm-length of hard flesh thoughtfully.

Show me off; make me do embarrassing things.

"Come along, slut-Daddy," he said brightly. He had a sudden idea, and ran to another cupboard and dug through some drawers. In the last one, he found it: a collar and leash, for the pet dog he'd wanted but which Bucephalus had told him was 'a waste of time when I already have to take care of you'. The collar was far too small to fit around the bulky stallion's neck, but he could clip the leash over the metal of the torc at the back of his neck. "Look how adorable you look!" he giggled, tugging the tall male over to a mirror. "Aren't you just adorable? Beautiful Bucephalus, that's what they'll call you. I bet all your friends at the club will be so jealous, Daddy. They'll want to dress up just like you. And me! We can make a whole party out of it."

Dreaming happily about the future, Perch tugged his father downstairs. The stallion's cock remained firmly raised before him, powered by the sex toy humming deep inside him. Perch pushed it down a little when they reached the front door, but it bobbed right back up. "I guess everyone's going to see your dick, Daddy," he said brightly. "I'm sure you won't mind. Will you?"

"No, sir," Bucephalus said in a thick voice. His eyes were unfocused, and he seemed to be relying on Perch's guidance with the leash to find his way.

"Of course not. Because today you do everything I say. And I say -- let's go show off."

They went out into the street. It was early afternoon, and the streets had a reasonable number of people on them. Even for a city well used to explicit displays of public sexuality, the sight of a stallion-hulk in barely-fitting slutty clothing -- with a massive erection -- being led along by a leash was quite noteworthy. Most froze to stare, agog, at the sight. Several instantly grew bulges of their own. Perch met their disbelieving looks with a smile, loving the feeling of having Daddy ogled. He knew how good it felt to have people looking at you, appreciating your maleness. Daddy would love it too. How could he not?

They approached a kangaroo who had been walking in their direction, but had frozen when he saw Bucephalus. One of his paws was fondling himself, and Perch bit his lip, looking at the kangaroo and then back up at Bucephalus. He walked a little closer to him.

"Do you want to feel him?" he asked. The kangaroo blinked at him as if he'd asked him if he wanted to grow an extra arm, but nodded rapidly. "You can," Perch said, and grinned in delight as the root came forward to take Bucephalus' dick in hand.

"Fucking hell...what's his deal?" The marsupial's paws stroked over the flesh. "Holy fucking shit, what a horsecock..."

"He has to do everything I say!" Perch said. "I'm his daddy today."

The kangaroo looked at Perch with wide eyes. "How the fuck did you get that right?" His hand slid further down to cup the stallion's balls. "He's a fucking big boy, huh?" he said appreciatively. "Nice big subby stallion..."

Perch nodded eagerly. "He asked for it! And he's very big. And pretty. He's mine. I made him pretty."

The kangaroo nodded, seeming distracted. "Does he do anything you say?" Perch nodded again. "Can you tell him to do something for me?"

"Sure!"

The marsupial turned slightly, bringing the tip of his tail around and holding it out in his paw. "Make him suck on that," he said. Perch gasped, then giggled. What a strange thing to ask!

"Daddy," he said, trying to sound commanding in front of the stranger. "Suck his tail. Suck it like a cock."

The golemesque horse lumbered forward, making the kangaroo lean back a little in surprise. Bucephalus took the tail in hand and pushed the tip into his mouth with every indication of pleasure. His eyes were shut, and his long tongue rolled around the fuzz like it was ambrosia. The kangaroo began making a low, chuffing noise as soon as he started, and rubbed his crotch harder. "Shit, fuck...yeah...suck my tail, horse-bitch..." he murmured, lost in some private world. The stallion was pushing a good four inches of it into his mouth, soaking it with spit and sucking it off when he pulled it back out. The kangaroo's breathing was short and fast, and growing faster with every sensual suck he received from the horse. Only a minute or two later, he gasped, and twitched, eyes rolling and tail shuddering. A wet spot appeared in his pants, and grew to surprising size.

When he calmed, he gave a low whistle, still rubbing his crotch slowly. He wetted it with some of his cum, and held it out for Bucephalus; the big stallion licked it off obediently. "Your boy's got quite a mouth," the kangaroo observed. He made to pull his tail back, but Bucephalus gripped it harder. "Ow!" he said, with a little fear. "Woa, hey, uh...be careful!"

"Daddy! Let go!" Perch instructed. The stallion released the kangaroo instantly, and the wary marsupial pulled himself away.

"Crazy freak," he muttered. He looked down at the wet spot in his pants with a frown. "Where are you taking him?"

"To, um, to Stud Farm," Perch said, looking up at Bucephalus. The horse was staring into nothing again, eyes glazed over as the Slutmaker throbbed away.

"Oh, the horse fuck-club? Makes sense." The kangaroo hefted the horse's cock one last time. "If you're ever bored, lemme know. Can think of a lot more fun to have with your stud."

"Not just a stud. That's Bucephalus," a strange voice said, and Perch turned to see a zebra watching the scene. Quite a few people had stopped to watch the stallion sucking the kangaroo's tail, in fact. Perch was excited that someone knew Daddy.

"Uhu! Bucephalus, from the...um..." From home? He didn't really know where Daddy worked, now that he thought about it. He should ask him.

"...from the asshole factory," the zebra supplied. "He's the mould." He was nibbling on a nail as he looked the big stallion up and down. "You gonna be at Stud Farm long?"

"Um," said Perch. He'd not given that any thought. How long did it take to parade Daddy around to make all his friends jealous? "I think so?"

"Great," the zebra said, letting his hand fall. "I'm gonna come by later and get my dick sucked by this fucknut. And get pictures -- lots of pictures."

"Sure!" Perch said. "He'll like that." He would. It had been in the instructions.

"Like I give a fuck what he wants," the zebra snorted, and a snake in a bowler hat sniggered. Perch wasn't sure how to respond, but tried his default of happy agreement.

"Okay! We'll see you later!" he chirped, and tugged the leash. "Come, slut-Daddy."

"Yeah, slut-Daddy," said someone else in the back of the small crowd, and there was another snigger. "Come for him."

Perch smiled uncertainly, and kept walking.

---

The club was open, but only barely. A smattering of cars were parked outside, and the sound of music from within was muted more than you'd expect. Late afternoon didn't attract many clients, apparently.

Perch stood on the asphalt, staring at the building. Bucephalus stood next to him, a tower; his shadow fell across Perch completely. Perch looked up at him.

"Do you remember this place, Daddy? We met here."

"Yes," the horse replied simply. Perch looked back at the entrance. It wasn't as...mythical as he remembered. Perhaps it was the daylight, highlighting the pocked concrete and water stains. Or the way the sign looked grimy when it wasn't on. More than grimy: ordinary. That was it. The whole scene looked so...normal. Not like it was in his memories.

That first night had been transformative for him. He'd gone in, unsure and scared and a little lost in life -- and he'd left with purpose and design. To be Daddy's son. Daddy had fought for him, and won him, and claimed his prize. Perch had acceded to his dominance...and even if it had taken a while for the scales to finish balancing out, they had. He'd forced Daddy on that point. There was a balance of power to be had, and while the majority of it rested squarely with Daddy, Perch had taken back his part. They were in a good place now, the two of them, he thought. He looked up at his tall, silent father. This little outing showed that. Daddy had entrusted him with his whole self today -- without limitation. The torc was proof that he knew Perch understood him, and would obey him. Perch hoped it was the start of a new arc in their relationship: one where control might flow a little more regularly between the two of them.

But not too regularly. He still wanted to be dominated by his father. A lot.

The bouncer standing at the entrance to the club -- not the same one from all those months ago, Perch saw, but a rhino now -- was looked wide-eyed at them. Bucephalus attracted stares at the best of times; in what he wore now, he was liable to cause traffic accidents. Perch tugged on the leash and clicked his tongue as if calling a pet. "Come along, Daddy. Let's go see your friends."

The bouncer's eyes didn't know where to go, sliding all over Bucephalus and giving him a clear bulge in his pants. Unprofessional. Perch tried to smirk at him. "Hi! Can we go in?"

"Uh..." The bouncer didn't seem to have taken in the words. "Yeah, I--I guess. Uh..." He seemed to see Perch for the first time. "Wait, sorry. Got identification?"

Perch huffed. "I'm old enough!"

The bouncer held out a hand anyway, and Perch grumbled and dug out a card. The rhino's eyes glanced at it, then back up at Bucephalus. "So, he's, what, like...triple your age?"

"No!" A little over double. But that was none of his concern. "Can I go in?"

The rhino cocked his head at the door. "Yep." His eyes watched them walking past him. "Have fuuun..." he drawled, and Perch sniffed.

The last time Perch had walked in, the air had been soaked with the smell of stallions. At this time of day, with only a handful of other patrons present, it was a lot weaker. His father's scent -- strong and musky after their walk -- overpowered it easily. It had also been loud, with a hubbub of conversation overlaying the music. The music was softer at the moment, and whatever conversation had been going on died when they stepped inside. Every single equine stopped what they were doing and stared at them. Well...at Bucephalus.

Perch looked up at his father. "Lean down, slut-Daddy." The horse did so, and Perch whispered something into his ear. Then he slapped his father's rump playfully, and the big horse walked forward, to the rough centre of the room.

"My name is Bucephalus," he said, in the slutty voice he'd put on at Perch's command. "I've been a bad horse, and I need to be punished. I need to be used. I want to suck, and I want to fuck -- all night long." His chest heaved, and his legs quivered. His cock hadn't wavered from its upright stance since the toy was inserted into him, and it dripped, making a slowly growing pool of pre under him. "Please?" he begged, and the urgency and need in his voice made the air feel thicker. "Please fuck me. Make me suck you. Humiliate me. I need it."

Nobody moved. There were four other horses present -- five, if you counted the barhorse. They must all know who he was; all horses in the city seemed to. Daddy was famous. No -- infamous. Even better. That's what someone had said once, but Daddy had been too far to hear the compliment. But they still didn't move. One did glance at another as if in disbelief, but that was all. Perch was a little disappointed. He walked forward to stand next to his father.

"Well?" he snapped, putting his fists to his waist. "What are you waiting for?". All the horses had seemed really horny the last time he was here, but when offered a needy stud, they suddenly couldn't move. "What's the problem?"

"Uh...what the fuck is going on?" a nameless horse asked in disbelief.

"It's a fucking trap," another replied, shaking his head. "No fucking way is this--"

Perch turned to face him. "No! Why would it be a trap?"

The stallion seemed to struggle to express himself. "Because that's...that's fucking Bucephalus...and he's dressed up like a...anime slut...and..." He put his hands in the air. "Not going near it. He's gonna, I don't know...bite my fucking cock off or something..."

"Yeah," agreed the barhorse, staring at the tall, nearly-nude horse with wide eyes. "He's fucking attacked people here before."

The first horse nodded. "Exactly," he agreed. "Never stick your dick in crazy."

Perch's face felt hot. Why were they being so difficult? "He asked for this!" he yelled. "He wants this! Look!" He undid the straps on the Slutmaker and pulled it out of his father, making the stallion whine. The warm, slick toy throbbed in his hands.

"Put it back in, sir, please," Bucephalus begged. He dropped to his knees, gripping Perch's thighs and looking up at him. "Please, sir, I need to be filled...please..."

Perch slid the toy back into his father, making Bucephalus shudder and blow a long, low breath of pleasure. The younger stallion reached for his belt. "See?" he asked, as he undid the button. "He's my bitch tonight. I'll prove it." He fished his cock out and slapped Bucephalus in the face with it. The dark stallion tried to nuzzle against the flesh. "Suck my dick, slut," Perch said, and Bucephalus' hands did the rest: tugging the rest of his son's tumescent flesh into the air and swallowing it with a groan of satisfaction. He took it to the hilt instantly, much faster than he had earlier, making Perch gasp and his head whirl. It felt amazing. "Good slut-Daddy," he murmured, beginning to thrust into his father's willing throat. The stallion whined and gulped, barely breathing around the cock.

"Holy fucking shit..." came a breathless exclamation from one of the patrons. Perch smirked, thrusting extra-hard into Daddy's mouth.

"See?" he said. "This is all he wants. He's a slut today." He stroked his father's mane. "I made him all pretty so he can be sexy for all the nice horses. So they can use him. Like he asked. Isn't that right, slut-Daddy? You asked for this." Bucephalus' muffled response could have been anything. "He'll do whatever I say, and he can't disobey. He won't hurt anyone. He just wants to show off and be a pretty sex pony for everyone. Don't you, slut-Daddy? You need to do whatever anyone says in here, alright? No complaints."

The music abruptly cut out, and the wet gulps of Bucephalus sucking his son's cock took its place. The barhorse was staring at the scene with a mouth ajar, panting. His hand dropped from the switch on the wall, and he pulled up the bar partition and walked out, a large erection clearly visible through his pants. He walked closer, ending up right next to Bucephalus, looking down at the horse as the dark stallion did his best to make Perch's cock vanish from view. With a deft motion, his pants came loose, and a pitch-black horsecock dropped out.

"I've always wondered if this fucker's mouth feels as good as it looks," he said huskily. "Suck this then, you fucking crazy bastard." He slapped his cockhead on top of Bucephalus' nose and waited.

Bucephalus pulled back from Perch, drawing his son's cock from his throat like taffy, and took the barhorse's cock in hand. The barhorse gasped as his flare was enveloped, and then sighed with pleasure as more of his member sank into Bucephalus' throat. "Shit, that's nice," he murmured. Perch smiled with delight and slapped his wetted cock against Bucephalus' busy muzzle.

"What about me, slut-Daddy?" he teased. "Don't you have hands?"

A hand rose to grip Perch's cock and slowly jerked him off, in time with the back-and-forth motions of his muzzle. The big stallion's eyes were closed, and he seemed completely focused on what he was doing. The barhorse reached down to pull his fingers through the stallion's braided mane -- and then gripped a handful of hair firmly.

"Suck harder, bitch," he growled, pulling Bucephalus' face towards him. The stallion grunted as a couple extra inches of black horsedick slid down his gullet. "Put some fucking effort in. Is this the best blowjob that the high and mighty Bucephalus can give? Fucking pathetic."

The recrimination seemed to make Daddy redouble his efforts. He stretched his mouth wider, trying to get more of the barhorse's prick inside him. The Andalusian was thicker than Perch, though, and while Perch's dick had slipped inside him without a problem, he seemed to be struggling more now. After several seconds of wordless blurps, and a line of spit starting to run down the corner of his mouth, the barhorse took things into his own hands. Grabbing a handful of Bucephalus' mane in both hands for support, he pulled the horse's face closer with a hard jerk that made Bucephalus give a muffled cry, and slammed the rest of the cock down inside him without care.

"Ah, fuck, yeah!" the barhorse cried. "There it is. Hilted in Bucephalus...hahaha! Holy shit...mmmffff...yeah...fuck yeah..." He pumped his hips, sliding only an inch of cock in and out of the horse. "Who's the bitch now, you piece of shit? Not gonna fucking punch me for no reason? Yeah." His rough fucking had made the dark stallion's eyes open wide with the force of it, but he didn't try to stop it. The barhorse looked down at him with a cruel face as he continued taunting him. "You gonna take my colts, you fuck? Gonna swallow my delicious swimmers like a greedy mare?"

Bucephalus made a needy sound around the mass of dick filling his throat, and his free hand gripped the other stallion's leg, trying to tug him closer. Tears ran from his eyes as the barhorse abused his throat, but he pushed forward, taking in the last few bits of cock that weren't already inside him. His hand was still jerking off Perch, pressing into his cockflesh in all the right spots. The barhorse was thrusting hard, his breathing hoarse, and Perch watched -- rapt -- as his voice rose in concert with his balls.

"...ffffffffffuuuuuCCCCCK...!"

When he orgasmed, he simply ceased to thrust, and gripped the horse's mane hard, whimpering, with eyes screwed shut. The bulge in his father's throat where the horse was flaring was the only outward sign of what was happening inside. Perch knew exactly what his father was feeling. The way the cock cut off all air, replacing that essential part of life with itself. The gradual light-headedness, companion to the heat of the cum searing down your throat. The incredible equine throbbing that focused all your senses, made you realise that yes...fuck, yes...a stallion was cumming in you...

The memory of it -- along with the motion of his father's hand -- was suddenly too much. Perch came with a scream, splattering his whiteness over Bucephalus' face just as the barhorse filled his throat. The cum soaked into his mane and oozed down over his pecs like the outline of a royal mantle.

The barhorse pulled out, spraying cum and saliva everywhere. Bucephalus jerked forward, then back, gasping for air with an abrasive, keening sound. The barhorse's dick was long and loose, and the kneeling stallion only took two huge breaths before grabbing it and licking all along, moaning with lust as if he'd not just had the dick buried inside him.

"Shit," the barhorse said, shiny with sweat and breathing hard, "he's such a fucking slut tonight." He looked at Perch with newfound respect. "What the fuck did you do to him?"

Perch smiled happily. "It's a present for me!" The barhorse stared at him, uncomprehending, and shook his head. He stepped back, away from Bucephalus, and the horse made a grab for his cock.

"Daddy!" Perch snapped. "No!" The hands fell, and Bucephalus rocked back onto his knees. The barhorse looked at him for a moment longer, then chuckled.

"Fuck me...this is amazing. I gotta tell some people." He walked back to the bar and grabbed a phone, but looked back at Perch. "Hey -- get him onto the stage." He pointed at the well-lit stage; empty at this hour.

"Hey!" said one of the nameless patrons. "What about Jack's show? I wanna see that?"

"Jack? Pffft." The barhorse waved a dismissive hand. "Would you rather watch Jack wave his tired ass around, or watch fucking Bucephalus sucking dick?"

There was a considered pause. "Yeah, alright, fair point," the patron said. The barhorse lifted the receiver to his ear and dialled a number.

Bucephalus followed Perch meekly onto the stage. A centre pole was the only adornment, and Perch carefully unclipped the leash from the torc around his neck. The other patrons had already wandered closer, and an Appaloosa in cowboy gear had wasted no time in unzipping his pants and was stroking his thick pink dick. Perch stared at it hungrily -- and so did Bucephalus. The Appaloosa grinned.

"Hey, Bucephalus...remember the time you turned me down for a fuck in the darkroom?" He slapped his cock against his palm. "I want a rematch."

---

Afternoon blended into evening. Horses showed up at the club -- lots of horses. The barhorse had called some friends, who had called some other friends. Everyone wanted to see if it was true: if Bucephalus was sucking dicks at Stud Farm.

The stage was a mess. Cum covered the area around Bucephalus -- almost as much as was on him. The stallion obeyed his son, and sucked every dick presented to him. If he was already sucking, he jerked them off, and sucked after. His appetite was insatiable, and the moans, slurps and rumbled sounds of pleasure made it clear he only wanted more.

Perch hadn't lasted long himself. At first, he'd presided over the action, giving redundant commands to his father. But within half an hour, when a particularly beautiful dick found its way towards him, he'd dropped to his knees to begin servicing it.

He was sucking on the flare of his third dick of the evening when a voice behind him made him start. His mouth convulsed, almost biting the dick, and the owner took a sharp breath and quickly pulled his member back. "Watch the fucking teeth!" he snapped, but Perch ignored him. He let the cock drop and pushed the stallion away. For a moment, he thought Bucephalus had spoken -- but his father was right next to him, on his knees, servicing the zebra they'd met earlier as the semen of countless other stallions oozed through his mane.

"Yeah, he fucking loves cock," the voice repeated.

Marcus sauntered into view, wearing the same tight leather harness he'd worn the first time Perch had met him. His eyes were fixed on Bucephalus as he slid all the way up and down the zebra's member, making the zebra softly swear and grunt with pleasure. "Always has." He came up close to the striped equine. "You close, bud?"

"Fuck off," the zebra huffed, half-ignoring the mustang. Marcus snorted, and dropped a hand. Perch couldn't see what he did, but the zebra jumped suddenly, and his moan grew deeper. "Oh, shiiiit..." His eyes glazed, and he rocked a little between Bucephalus' mouth and Marcus' hand. It only took a few more seconds for him to suddenly reach forward and hold onto Bucephalus' head for support, as his dick throbbed and pulsed, pumping his excessive orgasm into the horse. Bucephalus couldn't swallow fast enough, and he choked, coughing and spraying fresh zebra cum all around himself.

Even as the zebra was still recovering from the climax, Marcus clamped his hands onto the striped equine's shoulders, pulling him back and then off to the side, away from the kneeling, cum-painted stallion. The mustang stepped closer and got down onto his haunches, bringing his face in line with Bucephalus'. Perch stared warily at the situation, his ardour thoroughly quenched by the appearance of the mustang. Marcus still scared him a little, even after Daddy had put him in his place at The Bold Equestrian.

Marcus didn't even seem to realise Perch was there.

"Hey, Bucky," the mustang said softly. One hand rose to lift a cum-heavy lock of hair out of the Friesian's eyes. "Lookin' good tonight, Daddy. Been a while since you wore this outfit, hm?" He swirled a finger in the cum that coated the other stallion's muzzle, tracing out a pattern. Bucephalus looked at him with lustful eyes, and his hand stretched forward, trying to grasp his cock. Marcus deflected it gently. "Making up for lost time, like a champion cock-whore," the mustang continued. "How many studs have you blown tonight, huh?" He glanced around the club. "All of them, I bet." He eyed the horses standing in the gloom near the stage, and raised his voice. "Who hasn't fucked this bitch's throat yet?" A couple hands went up. A lot more stayed down. Marcus smirked. "Good boy, Bucky. Embrace that inner slut." His smirk turned nasty. "You fuckhead."

He got back to his feet and walked behind Bucephalus, looking down at the stub of a tail that remained with delight. "Oh, Daddy," he all but purred. "Look what Percheron did to your beautiful tail." He tapped the small bundle of hairs that remained, making them bounce. "Howhumiliating! Oh, you poor thing. People are going to point and laugh when they see this, huh?" He slid a finger up from the tail, lifting the skirt a little. "Well," he corrected himself, "assuming the beautiful skirt and ribbons didn't already tip them off to what a pretty mare you've become..."

His hand dropped again, grasping the base of the toy that vibrated gently deep inside Bucephalus' colon. The kneeling stallion twitched as the toy was shifted, then gasped as Marcus undid the straps and started to withdraw it. "No, no, no, sir, no, please, no..." he begged. Marcus' face was electric, listening to the other horse beg.

"What's that, Bucky?" he asked. Bucephalus was looking over his shoulder at the other horse, his face screwed up, looking ready to cry.

"Please put it back in, sir...I feel empty." He did start to cry, then, and the tears washed away a fraction of the horse seed.

Marcus paused, and then ripped the rest of the toy out at once, making Bucephalus cry out as the latex flare punched through his ring. As a dribble of lube worked its way down his taint, Marcus grabbed his tail stub and pulled upward. "Look at that," he marvelled, staring into the fluttering doughnut of Bucephalus' ass. The stage lights glittered in his eyes. "Fucking beautiful, Daddy. An ass fit for the hero you never were."

He released the stallion's tail and looked at Perch. "Has this toy been in all night?" he said tersely. Perch nodded slowly. "Perfect." Bucephalus was still whining for the toy in a high-pitched voice, and Marcus bent down quickly to slap his sire's hanging balls firmly with a palm. Bucephalus shrieked and fell silent. "Shut the fuck up, slut," the mustang snapped. "You'll get your filling, don't worry." He stood, undoing a few catches on his outfit, and the leather fell from him like rain.

When he saw the mustang's cock, Perch did a double-take. It was like looking at Bucephalus' own horseprick. Maybe smaller, but who could tell -- and who would care? The slab of dick Marcus carried was more than enough to satisfy anyone. The young stallion's hole twitched at the sight. Later -- after he fucked Daddy like he'd asked -- Daddy must fuck him back. Being surrounded by horny stallions and their aromas for hours had made him much needier than normal.

The mustang positioned his flare at the entrance to Bucephalus' ass, and the bigger horse whimpered with relief. Marcus snorted. "Look at you. So desperate for cock. This is the real you, Daddy. This is where you belong: on all fours, servicing your betters." He leaned down a little closer, and in a false whisper added: "That means everyone else." Another snort. "You enjoyed fucking Percheron on stage that one time so much, I thought, well, I've just gotta try it. If it's good enough for Daaaddy..." Disdain dripped from his words like the cum from Bucephalus' chin.

Marcus had stepped up along the stallion's broad back with two fingers as he spoke, and then seized hold of the pink top he wore and ripped it off. The already-straining fabric tore easily. The skirt followed, leaving the horse entirely nude. "Fuck you, Bucky!" Marcus yelled, unexpectedly. His breathing was faster, and one might say a little ragged. "Fuck you! You fucking piece of parental shit!" He choked up a bit at the end, and grabbed the other horse's mane, pulling his head back hard and making Bucephalus yelp and scrabble for purchase with his hands. Marcus' words sounded like they were coming through gritted teeth as he hissed at the dark stallion.

"Sven told me about his visit, Daddy dearest. About that extra-special fuck you gave him. I got the message, don't worry. I remember the...the good times." He spat into the horse's mane. "I've come here tonight to give you the reply."

Perch could see the mustang's muscles bunching up as he reached the end of the sentence -- and then, like a bullet, his hips shot forward, driving the steel rod of his cock into Bucephalus. The kneeling stallion's body rocked forward -- as far as it could, with the other stallion still gripping his mane -- and his cry was half pain and half deep, bestial lust. Marcus snarled, and in his voice, Perch heard Bucephalus.

"You're getting fucked, Bucky. Remember when you said I'd never have this ass again?" He thrust in again, harder. "You lost." Again. Bucephalus' cock was jutting out, extending forward -- below his chest -- like a thick, throbbing spirit level. His mouth hung slack and drooling. Marcus' cock was punching a breath out of him on every hilt, but the moans underneath them were constant. "I won." Marcus was wearing a look of triumphant satisfaction, and the teeth in his open-mouthed smile glowed in the rays of some unseen blacklight. "Everyone can see you, Daddy. Everyone knows you're not special now. You're just another horse that likes to bend and take it up the ass from a real dom. From me." His head whirled to stare at Perch, and Perch was frightened by the expression he saw there. It was...too much like Bucephalus.

A confident sniff, over the continued sounds of wet, loose stallion fucking. "Even your slut knows it."

Perch didn't answer, and scooted a little further away from the mustang. He didn't like being this close to Marcus. He was so angry...and the stuff he was saying didn't make a lot of sense. Everything had been having fun before he showed up. Why did he have to ruin it?

"Daddy asked for this," he said, with a frown. "You don't know what he wants. You don't know anything! You -- you're just a mean jealous horse who lost a fight!"

Marcus lifted his head and let loose a bellow of a laugh that made Perch shrink back further. Then his head came down again, and he stared intently at his mate as he fucked him with every ounce of his strength. His thick dick had turned the other stallion's ring to a loose, fleshy fucktunnel by now, and Perch saw the dark flesh clinging to the penis as it withdrew, splaying out to show a hint of his soft pink insides before the invader rammed back inside. Marcus' balls were thudding into Bucephalus' own on every motion, and Perch knew it must be hurting both of them. But Marcus didn't show any pain, and Bucephalus kept doing as he'd been told.

Being a slut, for any and all horses that wished to use him, without complaint.

"Ohhhhh...." Marcus groaned, lifting his head back up and swaying it from side to side. "Oh, I'm close, Daddy. So close...your ass is so nice, Daddy, so tight and deep...you fit me perfectly..." His pace picked up, the slap of stallion balls on stallion balls almost louder than the music. "Gonna paint you white again, Daddy, after all this time..." He pulled the stallion's head even further up, and leaned over him, giving him a rough kiss. His teeth caught the other stallion's lip and he pulled back on it before releasing. "Marcus is gonna breed you deep, Daddy...so tell me what you are. I know you remember..."

Bucephalus was crying out from the feeling of the huge horsecock slamming into him every second, but he screamed the words even louder.

"I'm your fuckstallion!"

Marcus trumpeted in triumph, the two stallion bodies seeming to merge as the mustang slammed their hips together and held it there. His hands grabbed Bucephalus' shoulders and pulled him upright, gripping him tightly as his balls throbbed in their sack and pumped their virile load deep inside the dominated stallion. His cries of pleasure and release sounded exactly the same as those of the horse he held.

When Marcus withdrew from Bucephalus, the volume of cum that spurted from his ass shamed the zebra that had been fucking his mouth before. Perch stared at the mustang in confusion.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The other horse wiped his dick off against Bucephalus' ass-cheeks as cum squirted and drooled from his flaccid hole. "A better him," he said simply. Letting his cock fall, he walked closer to Perch. "Get up."

Perch rose, and Marcus tugged him closer. He pointed at Bucephalus' rear. "Fuck him," he said. "Like he asked."

Bucephalus' asshole was wide and throbbing after the mustang's fuck, drooling with cum and shiny under the stage lights. It did look good...but Perch felt uncomfortable all of a sudden. This wasn't right. "No," he said, with a frown. "Daddy doesn't want this. He cares about me. It needs to be special."

Marcus looked down at him with disbelief. "You really think..." He roared with laughter again. "Well, that's just gonna make this even better." He shrugged. "Fine. Don't fuck him. But you better bend anyway, because I'm far from done fucking Bucky and his Ultrasub tonight."

Perch hesitated...but Marcus' cock was really thick. And long. Like Daddy's. And he was so needy...

He turned, and Marcus' fingers grabbed at his pants, pulling them down. "Good boy," he purred. "Here's your reward..."

---

They took a taxi home in the late hours of the night. Perch rested his head against Bucephalus' shoulder as the big horse sat still and silent. The night had become a blur, if Perch was honest. After he'd been fucked by Marcus -- and then Marcus again -- there had been a string of other stallions he didn't know. Marcus had stayed close until they left: watching Bucephalus take each new stallion dick with a glee that made no sense. He was such a creepy horse.

Perch had never been fucked that much before in his life. But it had been fine. He'd been with his father. Bucephalus had been right alongside him, getting fucked himself. Between them, they must have been filled with the spunk of thirty horses or more. Each new load flushed out the previous one; they both stank of horse semen. Their clothes were ruined, but the barhorse had found some items in the lost-and-found that fit them.

Perch felt content. He was happy -- truly happy. He was loved. He was satisfied. He had hope for the future. Everything he had hoped to feel from having a daddy, and more. He slid a hand around Bucephalus' chest and nuzzled into an armpit. "When we get home, Daddy," he mumbled, "I'm just gonna take the thing off, okay? I'm too tired. We can play again tomorrow."

The cab dropped them off, and Perch stumbled up the path to the house, tugging Bucephalus behind him. "Come, Daddy," he said sleepily. "Tired." Bucephalus followed in silence.

Once inside, Perch shut the door, and yawned, stretching. He dropped their things and blinked, trying to remember what he -- oh! The necklace. He looked up at Bucephalus, towering over him. He stepped closer and reached up for it. Sweat and semen had dried around it, though, glueing it his father's skin. Perch huffed. "Bend down, Daddy."

Bucephalus bent down obediently, releasing a soft noise and a splatter of cum as he flexed his lower body. Perch took a firm grip on the torc and pulled, loosening it from its fit. "There we go." He tugged it off with a grunt, then opened his mouth for another wide yawn. "I wanna sleep late tomor--"

An arm like the boom of a racing yacht swung around and slammed into him. Bucephalus held nothing back; Perch was catapulted aside, crashing into the wall and dislodging a mirror, which fell to the ground and shattered. The tan stallion fell bonelessly down, arms gripping his midsection, heaving for breath. Pain flooded his body. Everything hurt. He choked, trying to pull in air. The impact felt like it had paralysed his lungs. As his back muscles pulled desperately, and his eyes watered, he saw Bucephalus stand. Seconds later, a hoof came hurtling down, smashing into something on the ground. There was the sound of something electronic being crushed, and blue sparks flew.

The torc.

Perch wheezed, and looked up at Bucephalus in pain and fear. "D--d--daddy...?"

The words died. Bucephalus was staring down at him, but it was not him. Another creature had replaced him; one made of pure rage, furious and terrible to behind. His teeth were gritted, and his eyes were on fire. He was breathing heavily, and clenching his hands. Perch tried to push himself upright, confused and frightened. "Daddy, that hurt!" he said, sniffing. "Why did you do--"

Bucephalus snarled, kicking forward with a hoof, and Perch shrieked, rolling to the side. The hoof smashed into the wall, crashing right through the plaster. Perch gasped and crawled further away. "Daddy! Stop it!" he screamed. He was ignored.

A hoof rose, and dove down again, trying to hit one of his hands. Perch screamed in fear and pushed himself to his feet, flattening his body against the wall and holding his hands out in front of him for protection. "Daddy! Daddy! Stop it! I--gack!"

His words were cut off a second time as Bucephalus' hands gripped his throat and began to tighten. The stallion's face was horrifying, and Perch's mind started screaming at him to get away, run away, escape...but Daddy was far too strong for him. His thumbs dug into Perch's windpipe, and his face was contorted into a rictus of absolute hatred. His lip rose high, and his hot breath blew over his son as he took hot, fast snorts.

"You think...that this...was funny?" he snarled, and blind terror gripped Perch at how he sounded. His words were uneven. He seemed unhinged. The tan horse grabbed his arms, trying to pry them away from his neck, but he wasn't nearly strong enough. The fingers simply tightened. Perch couldn't pull in any air now. He needed to speak. Something was wrong. It was him, it was Perch, it was him, stop, stop, stop...

But all he could manage was 'ack, ack'.

"How fucking DARE you!" Bucephalus was screaming at him, flecks of white spittle flying to all sides. He pulled Perch away from the wall, and then smashed him against it again. "You DARE to...I am NOT!" Smash. "YOUR!" Smash. "Fucking PET!" His hands gripped the tan stallion's entire neck, pushing Perch upward, lifting him off the ground. Perch's legs freewheeled. "I'm going to teach you a fucking lesson you'll never fucking forget, you fucking mistake!"

Perch was panicking. He couldn't think. His head was buzzing from the lack of oxygen, and his heart was beating so fast, he was sure he would die. His fingers were digging into his father's arms, trying to loosen them, but they make as well have been made of steel. Adrenaline surged through his veins, and in a blind panic, he swung a leg out -- hard. It connected with something soft, and the pressure on his throat abruptly vanished. He collapsed to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. Bucephalus had crumpled too, hands pressed to his groin, curled up and swearing. Perch was sobbing, and looking fearfully at the other horse, skittering away from him as he tried to breathe through his aching throat. He was lost, terrified, injured, afraid, confused. What was happening?

"Daddy," he tried to say, but his words were rough and unintelligible through his injured throat. Bucephalus' head came up nonetheless, with that same awful, alien expression.

"I am NOT your daddy!" he screamed, and Perch pissed himself in dread. Bucephalus' next words were just as loud, but far more vitriolic; as if every evil thing he knew had been distilled into them.

"You are NOT my fucking son!"

Perch felt his world twist, and bend -- and shatter. "Daddy--" he tried to say, but the sobs got in the way.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Bucephalus screamed. He tried to reach for Perch with a hand like a claw, and the tan stallion shuddered and blubbered with tears, crawling out of reach of his crazed father and then pushing himself to his feet. It took him endless seconds to open the door, with the fury of Bucephalus raining down on his ears all the while. At last, it swung open, and he fell through, landing on the ground outside and quickly twisting around to keep the fearsome horse in sight.

The tan stallion blubbered and wept, powerless before the force of fury that his father had become. "Da--"

"If I ever see you again," the black stallion of rage hissed, his words all the more horrible for the lowered volume, "I will kill you."

Perch choked up, his body going limp. He could barely say anything. He couldn't think. How could this be happening? What had he done? "D--dadd--"

"GET OUT! GET OUT!" Bucephalus was screaming at him so loudly now, his voice was breaking. "GET OUT!" Over and over he repeated it, and Perch screamed and got to his feet, running down the pathway with tear-filled eyes. His father's screams followed him.

"GET OUT!"

Perch ran without thought. The tan stallion stumbled along the path, desperate to escape that awful voice. Halfway to the street, he heard a cry of such anguish and hatred behind him that his blood all but froze in his veins. It was not a stallion behind him any longer. It was an atavistic nightmare, a being of destruction. He fled as if some vast and ancient predator had spotted him, and would destroy him if he stayed.

The gate was stuck, and he moaned in panic when it wouldn't open, limbs shaking. It came loose at last, and with a sob of relief, and he flung the great portico open and fled into the street. The city lights were smeared by his tears, but he kept on running. He didn't know to where. He didn't care. He just had to get away from that horrible, horrible place.

There was only one place his feet could think of to go.

---

Stud Farm was still open. Perch got a lot of strange looks as he walked in, since everyone had seen him leaving not that long before. The tan stallion ignored them all.

He felt destroyed inside. In moments, his life had been ripped to shreds. Bucephalus...Bucephalus had attacked him! For no reason! And...and then...and then...

And then he'd told him to get out. That he wasn't his son. That he'd kill him if he ever saw him again.

Perch collapsed into a stool at the bar, tears running freely, trying to suppress his sobs. The same Andalusian stallion was there, and he gave Perch a concerned look.

"Uh, are you alright, cutie?" he asked. Perch shook his head.

"N-n-n-n-no." As if that word could convey it all. "Um. Can I....can I please ha-ha-have a water...?" He hated how his voice broke. He hated everything.

The white stallion nodded and moved away. Perch stared at the bar, feeling as low as he'd ever felt in his life. What had happened? He'd done everything Daddy had asked, and he'd...he'd...

A hand slipped over Perch's shoulder. "Hello, Perch."

For a second, Perch's heart leapt. It was Daddy. Bucephalus. He'd come back. He'd--

But when he turned, it was not Bucephalus, but Marcus that stood there. He looked warily up at the big buff stallion. "L-l-l-leave me a-a-alone," he said, sniffing and wiping away tears.

Marcus smiled down at him with a shark's grin. "You alright? You seem a little upset."

"I'm f-f-f-fine." He turned back to the bar as the white stallion delivered his water. "Please leave me alone."

"Aww..." Marcus slid smoothly around and grabbed a stool. "You just wanna be alone. I understand. Sometimes, bad things happen, and nobody can fix them. Only time. Is that right?"

Perch nodded, and Marcus tutted sympathetically.

"Yes, yes. So true. Lots of things can only be fixed by time. Loss. Heartbreak. Your lover going insane, and throwing you out of the house..."

Perch's head whirled to look at the other stallion. How...? Marcus kept talking, his tone unchanged.

"Why, if someone did that to me, I'd be livid! I'd say, 'But I did everything you asked. I put on your nice necklace. I made you grovel and beg. I made you do all the things you do to me...'" He leaned in close and whispered. "Daddy."

Perch's heart thudded in his chest. "How do you...what..." This was scary. He didn't like this.

"He asked you to do it, didn't he?" Marcus repeated. "He asked you to humiliate him in public, to turn him into a slut and make every stallion in the city use him like a living cum-rag...and then he goes berserk? What an asshole."

Perch turned to move away, but Marcus slid a hand around the back of his neck, holding him in place. "Percheron," he said conversationally, as if they were two friends catching up," there are two kinds of horses in the world. Those who take, and those who get taken." The hand around his neck tightened, and by the time the cold metal was sliding along his skin, it was too late for Perch to react. "Guess what kind you are?"

Perch's head whirled. It felt like he was simultaneously shrinking within himself, and growing larger. He couldn't make sense of anything. The world was a confused blur, a chaotic miasma of sensations that didn't match up. He smelled orange. He tasted bored. He scrambled for a hold, for meaning, for anything...

"Percheron."

The word speared through the chaos like a bolt of lightning. He clung to it, unwilling to let go. The voice was meaning. The voice was order. He'd do whatever it said, to keep the madness at bay.

"Do you like my toy? It's a little thing my research boys came up with. It's meant for recalcitrant livestock -- so, of course it worked on Bucephalus. Makes you very susceptible to suggestion. Makes you very...willing to please_._ I think I'll call it the Hypnotorc."

Perch felt like he was outside himself. He was lost. He needed a home, so desperately...

"Percheron." The voice pointed the way to safety and security. "You're mine now. Say it."

"I'm yours." It felt so easy, so right to say. He didn't even need to think about it. Happiness suffused him. He wanted to make the voice happy forever...

"Yes, you are," his new master said. "Bucephalus is finished with you. You were nothing to him, anyway. Just a replacement -- a poor one. For me." A hand took his muzzle roughly. "I guess he thought that if he couldn't control me, he'd go the opposite route, and find a pathetic little worm who would never dare countermand him. Do you know that? If you'd ever dared to stand up to him, he'd have gotten rid of you instantly. That's just how he is. All, or nothing."

Part of Perch felt like he was screaming, but no words came out. It wasn't true. It wasn't. He'd -- he'd stood up to Daddy, and he hadn't gotten rid of him. He'd allowed it -- even encouraged it.

"I would have fucked you and forgotten you, all in one night," Master's voice was saying, "but Bucky wanted you. And you know what? Yeah. I was horny, and you were hot, and he beat me fair and square. I cooled off. I could have lived with that. But then he took you to the club -- our club! He knew I'd be there. He wanted to rub it in. To show how easily he'd moved on. And -- he fucked you. Right there, on the stage, like a fucking animal. Like he used to fuck me!"

A hand slapped the side of Perch's face, hard. "Who the fuck are you, huh?" Master said. "You're fucking nobody. I'm his son! That should have been ME! That arrogant fucking piece of shit thinks he can just erase me from his life? I will ruin his!"

Master fell silent, his heavy breathing the only sound. The hand touched Perch again, now stroking him gently.

"And now...I think I have." He slid down Perch's body, and took his hand, tugging on it. Perch stood and followed, obediently.

"We're going to go into the back room, Percheron. Do you know what's in there?"

"No."

"Lots of horses, Percheron." Master's voice dripped with anticipation. "Lots of horny, hung stallions. They remember you, Perch, from your first visit. Before Bucky stole you." He sounded as pleased as a horse in mud. "I told them to wait. Oh, sure, they wanted to get on stage with all the others and fuck the living bejeezus out of that hot twink horse asshole of yours, but I told them to be patient. That I'd deliver you to them in a much more intimate way." Master's hand pulled the loose-fitting clothing from Perch, leaving him nude. "And here we are."

Master pushed a curtain aside, and Perch's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Hulking figures filled it. Seven...eight...ten...

"You belong to all of us, Perch," Master said. "They're going to fuck you, Perch, every last one of them. In front of everyone. And you're going to like it. You're going to beg for it. You're going to cry when they pull out and beg them like a mare to fuck your princess pussy again, except harder. And you're not going to stop until I say you can. Which is never."

Perch stumbled along, Marcus' words thudding into his mind like the blows of a hammer, giving him guidance. He clung to the words as they echoed through his skull. He only wanted to do what they said, instantly. They were his life.

"Look at your new fathers, Perch."

Perch looked. The stallions who stood in front of him were all nude, and all hard. Their cocks were like iron bars, and tree branches, and thick hunks of meat. They would rip open any lesser fur that tried to take them. They would have given Bucephalus a run for his money. Only a stallion could hope to take them.

"You want them, Percheron," Marcus said. He sounded so much like Bucephalus. It made Perch's tail raise all by itself.

"I want them," he repeated. He did. He wanted their strength, and their power, inside him. All of them.

"Bend over," his big stallion master said. Perch bent over obediently, raising his tail and bracing against the wall. Marcus came up next to him. "Tell the nice stallions how much you want them, slut."

"Please fuck me, sirs," Perch said instantly. "I need your cocks. I want all of you. I want to feel you deep inside, filling me..."

"Tell them you never want them to stop. Tell them they need to keep fucking you until you forget all about Bucephalus, because you're just a slut who only deserves to be servicing other stallions."

Perch repeated the words, his cock dropped and hardening. "Please, sirs, please fuck me," he begged. Bucephalus didn't matter. Marcus was his master now. He would do whatever he said.

Perch could not see which horse stepped up behind him first, but he felt him: the cock felt even bigger than Daddy's, which was impossible. He cried out when the dick pushed in, and Marcus grabbed his muzzle.

"You're still all wet from the earlier fucking, you fucking bitch. Don't tell me that hurt. You wanna wait until you're dry, and then try?"

"No," Perch said. He wanted it now. Because he was a slut. "Fuck me, sir, please...?"

The cock rammed in, and Perch cried out. There was a soft zipping sound, and Marcus' cock flopped out. The big Arabian began jerking himself off as he watched the other stallion fucking Perch.

"I only fucked you twice tonight, Perch," he said. "I've got a lot more in me. We're going to have a lot of fun. Aren't we?"

"Yes, sir," moaned Perch, lowering his head as the stallion behind him began to fuck him like the horny, slutty mare he was.

"But before we really get started," Marcus said conversationally, handing him a phone, "write a message to that assfuck of a Friesian. I'll tell you what to say." Perch took the device, and Marcus looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"Dear fuckstallion..."

---

Bucephalus lay still on the ground, surrounded by broken chaos. His balls still ached, but the pain had lessened. Perch's hoof had hit them square and centre; he had almost thrown up from the pain. The worthless little sack of shit...

A piece of glass from the shattered mirror lay close by, and Bucephalus could see part of his face reflected in it. He was covered in dried cum. He couldn't completely believe what had happened. Perch had...had...

Perch had humiliated him_._

Fuck that stallion! How fucking...dare he? All his years of work...trying to make people respect him, to undo the damage his fucking parents had done to their name...

All fucking ruined.

Half the fucking city had fucked him tonight. The only thing he hated more than the damage done to his reputation...was how good it had felt when Marcus had fucked him. Fuck him. Fuck his dick. Fuck everything his son had done to him.

The house was silent around him, and he began to collect his thoughts, the way he did when things were confusing or out of control. He would be in control. He always was. This time was no different. He'd rebuild his reputation, stallion by fucking stallion if he had to! He'd do whatever it took. He'd fuck them all if he had to -- except Perch. Perch, he would simply hurt. A lot. Did that fucking piss-ant think he was important? That Bucephalus needed him? He could replace him in moments. He was nothing special. He was a slut. They were all the same.

It was easy to say, like always. But it kept being harder to ignore the twisting feeling he felt inside when he imagined not waking up next to the dumb, bratty, fucking annoying, beautiful little stallion.

The stallion stared at the ceiling for a bit, feeling the emotion rising. He could push it down again. He should. But...he was gone. He'd kicked him out. He'd had to. He'd made a fool of him...just as Marcus had. He had to learn! He wasn't worth Bucephalus. Yeah. Yeah. He could find another. Sluts were cheap. He...he...

A single sob came first, and then hot tears. Bucephalus screwed his eyes shut, but he knew nobody was around. He couldn't make himself keep it in any longer. A second sob, and more tears. The noise juddered, and his body shook. He pulled himself inward, curling up around the hot piece of pain inside of him that used to be soothed by Perch.

Why couldn't he move past the horses that hurt him?

His phone buzzed. After a moment, he reached for it, blinking away hateful tears. The number wasn't in his address book, but he recognised it anyway, from before he'd deleted his son from his phone. Marcus.

Dear fuckstallion,

I hear you had a falling out with your slut-bitch. Oh well, you tried, and got fucked. Not a new feeling for you, huh? So, Percheron is mine now, and...yeah. Have a super shitty life, Dad. Watch out for necklaces!

Bucephalus stared at the words, his hand slowly tightening on the phone, until with a crash the device splintered in his hand. He surged to his feet, hurling the pieces at the wall, and howling in rage. His chest heaved and his blood ran hot, but his mind was clearer than it had been all evening. The tears dried up, and hot breath blew from his nostrils.

"I'm fucking coming, Perch," he growled.