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A Healthy Relationship 1: Find your shared interests

„I want that one." My bull said as he handed me his phone, casually leaning against the countertop in our kitchen.

Really, it had been a while since we got to play. Prey was rather hard to come by when your tastes were as peculiar as ours. We'd been talking about a new long term project for a few weeks now.

On his phone was a picture of a chestnut stallion, huge and muscular, bent over and staring morosely into his drink.

"This one came to the pub today. Pretty one isn't he. Can you imagine what he'd look like bucking under me?" That leer always signaled good times ahead and I already felt myself swelling in my pants. Not quite there yet, but chances were I'd get in the mood during my research.

Brutus already had a damp spot in front of his pants and looked like he wanted to eat the picture. Fuck, that stud did a number on him. The last time he was that impatient to fuck we were still in college and exploring the myriad possibilities that came with having a cooperative roommate.

Turned out we liked the same thing: Holding another guy down and railing him until he squealed. The stronger the bitch, the sweeter the conquest, though finding the right guy to serve as our third proved a little harder after graduation.

"Come on Davin, I know horses are your type. I want to see you work your magic again." He stepped closer and held me in a loose embrace, watching me finish dinner. I'd settled for some simple leafy greens with diced sausage and mash browns on the side. Usually dinner was more involved but I'd gotten immersed in work today and forgot the time.

"Sweet talking me already love? My BJs not doing it anymore or is there something special about the pony?"

He gave an aborted snort and a moan when I reached behind and gave him a good squeeze. Yeah, those nuts were nice and full. Then again, that didn't mean much. Brutus would've been a shoo-in for the adult industry with a body like that.

Granted, with a name like Brutus his only other options would've been bouncer, someone's enforcer or committing patricide. What self-respecting Irish woman names her son after a dead roman usurper?

"N-No kitten, the light doesn't do him justice. Take a look at the footage, you know I'm useless with-" another moan. "Stop. Seriously stop. The food will burn and you'll have to clean up the entire mess afterwards. I'm already pent up and if you don't take your hands off me I'm going to bend you over the counter in about five seconds."

He was getting quite desperate. I could see his biceps straining under his shirt and while I loved to get him riled up I didn't harbor any delusions about my ability to take him in a fight.

Testosterone fueled brawny bull versus smaller-than-average tiger? Yeah, no. I'd be an embarrassment to carnivores everywhere.

So I took my hand off his junk and finished dinner while he proceeded to mouth along my neck and stroke my fur.

Truth be told his lusty anticipation was infectious. I decided then and there to take a look at the stud that had my bull in such a state. Whenever he got like this over a guy we didn't stop until we left him a wreck and man, did we ever enjoy the road to getting there.

I could feel Brutus mumbling something against my neck but I couldn't make out the words.

"Come again?"

"Guess his name."

"What?"

"The pony's name. Guess. He's from the coast, there's a hint for you."

"Hmmm... Peachblossom?"

I could feel him freeze behind me and stare down at my head in pure incredulity.

"That's your first guess at the name of a stallion?"

"It's the name of the main role in a play that was popular at the coast a decade or so ago. Something about empowerment, equality and all that. Very progressive. The main star was a sissy stallion; you know the one you said would look good sucking your dick? V-something?" Vairen? Valern? Vincent?

"That was years ago! Why do you always know the faggiest things imaginable but you can't even recall the football results from last week?"

"They make good conversation material. Nothing gets a man to open up quicker than confessing you share an embarrassing hobby, Mr. I-wanted-to-be-a-dancer-growing-up. Second, I don't know it because I liked reading it; I know it because I had to memorize it to impress your sister. I thought the book was trash myself." That last bit was true actually. If we hadn't needed to go to her wedding I never would've agreed to roleplay a proper gay couple and read bad literature for his elder sister. Dear god, the woman lived and breathed theater. I wanted to bury my head into her teeth-rottingly pink throw pillows and scream after the first hour. It was all so sappy and preachy I would've ran out if I didn't know how much his only remaining family meant to Brutus.

"So what's his name then? Chancer? Charles? Dancer?"

He was grinning down at me, food momentarily forgotten and a sardonic smile curling his lips. "Percy."

"Seriously? This guy is named Percy?" Fuck me, why didn't his father stage an intervention?

"Yep. Your hash browns are getting dark by the way."

So we settled down for a nice relaxing dinner, discussing half-baked ideas about ensnaring Percy the pony.

The food turned out really good, even if the hash browns were slightly burnt.

---

Brutus was already in bed when I went to my office and booted up my equipment. One of the benefits of my line of work is the number of useful connections I built as a legal private investigator and accessory to occasional not-so-legal arrangements.

The former actually didn't pay that well. Brutus made more than enough running his pub that I technically wasn't required to even work but maintaining a web of favors and useful old friends took time and care, so I might as well combine business and pleasure to get some money on the side. We lived comfortably and combined with his inheritance it was what allowed us to get our house in the first place.

One of the not-strictly legal things I did was jailbreak a credit card scanner for Brutus. I never stole anything; I just needed a paw in the door to find potential prey. Most people won't hand over their full name and address just because their bartender asked. The other customers got the normal one anyway.

I logged onto the website of The Bull's Head. I was greeted by a classy painting of a bull in profile right in front of an evening picture of the pub, with tabs to pull up different info on the pub below it. Originally the website was very simple, only meant to attract attention and tourists to the pub. Once business kept improving I added the pub's history, a contact tab and a guestbook.

I logged myself in as admin and accessed the security files. I'd spent the better part of last year modernizing the place. I didn't do anything drastic, just setting up remote access to the security cameras, fixing the wiring around the place and a few other things. You wouldn't know anything changed by looking at it.

Luckily the picture had a timestamp. Ah, there he is. Oh yes. That one was a keeper. Brutus was right; the low resolution phone picture didn't do him justice.

Slumped over he cut quite the sorry figure, but standing up he was very handsome. Chestnut coat, dark hair and a beautiful runner's build. The gun show wasn't bad either, though he wasn't as impressive as Brutus. He might be an inch taller though. He was a Clydesdale going by the socks, which would explain his size.

God I hoped that one would work out. Brutus had great intuition when it came to sniffing out guys who were desperate and repressed. Keeping up appearances was hard and alcohol loosened the tongue, lowered barriers and removed inhibitions like few other substances could. It was one of the reasons the pub was both a great investment and opportunity. As a bartender he was already expected to have an open ear for his customer's troubles, which made picking out the right guys easier than flying blind.

Still, a drunken tumble with a guy isn't as exciting as breaking in new meat. For the occasional threesome we went to a gay bar near the other end of town. What we were looking for was somewhat more involved.

The ideal target was a guy with low self-esteem and a depressing future outlook. Whether he was actually in trouble or just talking himself into it wasn't important, the mindset was the onyl thing that mattered. People don't take risks if they feel they have too much to lose or have a better option. The most important part was a deep need to submit to someone else, which these guys usually expressed through strong devotion to their spouse or family that bordered on the masochistic. Brutus was really good at recognizing that urge in those men: the desperate hope that if only they're pleasant and obedient enough, someone will love and take care of them.

I downloaded the credit card details and looked up the owner.

Ah, there he was. Percival Hargrove. Poor guy.

In about an hour I had his Tweeter and MyFur accounts, his address and his workplace. God bless social media.

He wasn't married but in a relationship. Well yes, chances are the stud could have his choice of mares if he wanted to. Why so depressed then?

A picture of dinner, the evening stargazing with his girlfriend, holidays at the beach... Oh, nice. Percy cut a positively edible figure in a pair of swimming trunks. The bulge looked nice and plump too, so chances were there's nothing wrong in the size department.

His girlfriend looked pretty enough I suppose. I never cared for women but her ass was generous and she had a nice hourglass figure. Her tits were a little on the smaller size I guess, but he dwarfed her anyway so I doubt it mattered much in the grand scheme of things. She had an unreasonably large pink bow in her hair and generally gave off an air of someone who was daddy's princess, if the obnoxiously pink designer shoes and handbag were any indication. DioAves was famously expensive and a matching set of handbag, shoes and accessories was something you wore only if you had money to burn. I was involuntarily reminded of the sissy stud that starred in that atrocious novel-turned-screenplay. He also seemed to have a fondness for eye-wateringly pink tones and color schemes.

Blah blah blah, so happy together yadda yadda... Oh? No update this week?

I found his girlfriend's social media accounts and noticed the lack of any recent picture of her boyfriend or their activities together. There were some about half a year ago, but they gradually petered out.

The second to last picture was of their engagement party. The expensive dress did nothing to disabuse me of the notion that either his or her family had to be loaded. No way did the stud make enough money at his job as a junior accountant to pay for that silk and satin monstrosity, that pearl necklace or that choking hazard disguised as a diamond engagement ring.

After the party there was one last picture of both of them eating dinner at a french restaurant. Then nothing.

"Maybe there's trouble in paradise?" Hm. Both profiles listed their relationship status as 'taken'.

I looked back over to the beach picture and studied it. Yeah, there was an engagement ring on his left hand. A plain affair and objectively less tacky than hers.

No such ring on the video. So they either broke up or were on the verge of breaking up.

I looked at my own wedding band. I've been wearing it for over four years at that point. The day Brutus proposed was the happiest I've ever been. When I accepted it became his happiest day too.

And now I was going to make my bull happy again by serving him a handsome broken pony who looked like he really needed a shoulder to cry on.

I still think a better person would've pitied the stallion.

Instead I wondered whether he'd look fetching trussed up like a birthday present in our bed. He'd look perfect tied with red rope, a leather bit and a bow around his privates.

I felt my pants growing uncomfortably tight at the thought.

---

This story has been sitting around on my PC for the better part of two years now. Mostly because is was just unconnected pieces of smut with no connecting elements. Fixing that resulted in the first chpater being nothing but plot and entirely in Davin's point of view, but that'll change come next chapter.