The Filly (1/3)
#1 of The Centaur Filly
A young female centaur wakes up in a strange, man-made paddock, gagged and restrained and tied to a pole, with no memory or understanding of how or when she got there. Oh, and there's a horse?
"'Bit of a runt, isn't she?" The voiced sounded garbled, distant, as though it was underwater. "Think she'll hold?" "She'll have to," another responded. This one sounded male. "They only caught the one, and the boss won't wait. Says the boys have gone without too long already." "Guess we'll find out, then." It was the first one again, a woman? "Are we starting with the ponies, at least? Bet she could use the breaking in." There was a silence, but when the man spoke again, it sounded like a negative. "Like I said, the boys are getting restless. Boss wants the prize ones to have first priority, take the edge off before they get into trouble." A sigh, then the sound of something shuffling. "At least take Magnum out first," the female voice said. "If we start with Altanero, he'll fucking kill her."
The pain in her shoulders registered slowly, but when it did, it came in force. As the centaur filly tried to roll them to ease the strain she found her arms stretched above her head, fastened to a vertical - though thankfully bark-free - log, her bare torso flush against the rough wood. Her tongue felt too thick for her mouth, trapped under a wooden bit that stretched the edges of her mouth. Whenever she tried to move her gaze her vision blurred and swam. She understood the words in the conversation behind her, but filtered through her clouded mind they seemed to lose all meaning. Unease and fear she couldn't place churned within her. It didn't help.
As the world seemed to at least stop tilting on its axis, she tried to move her equine half, only to feel a tug of rope around her rear pasterns leaving barely enough room to shift a short step to the side. Her front was untethered, she found, but her upstretched arms gave little leeway and moving that way only made the log rub and chafe at her slight chest.
"Oh, you're perking up," the female's voice spoke again, closer now. "That's good. I wasn't sure how we'd keep you upright." As the filly focused, she could hear the woman moving behind her. "We usually have more time before we get going." Her head spun with questions - /where am I? Where is my herd? What happened? - but the gag kept her words from forming, and the woman didn't wait for a response, either. "Usually have more to go on, too." The filly gave up on vocalizing, and instead tried to take in her surroundings. Her tether seemed to be in the middle of a large, round pen. There was grass outside of it, she could spot horses grazing in the distance. Inside, the ground was trampled bare and flat. "And we usually get ones more filled out. Sturdier." As the woman spoke, the young centaur felt a grab at her tail as it was pulled aside. She jerked in response and tried to jerk away as she instinctively tried to twist around to see the human who was touching her
"No, no." The woman's tone was flat, as though she was just speaking nonsense to a dumb animal, like a mindless habit. "We gotta prepare you some. Magnum's not the worst, but patience isn't really his thing." With how tightly she was bound she couldn't see directly behind her, but she felt another rope loop around her wispy tail, a few inches from the base. Just tight enough to stay in place as it dropped to hang from her lithe rear, pulling her tail aside slightly. The human didn't even look at her face as she leaned momentarily against her creamy white hindquarters to pick up something from the ground. "Besides," she said, still more to herself than to the filly. "I bet you haven't even bred yet." Almost as punctuation, something long and thin pushed into her vulva.
The centaur's whinny caught in her throat as fear punched through her and she threw herself forward to escape the invading object, but her bindings left her little choice. Her legs yanked against the ropes that tethered her to the ground, she would've lost her footing had they not been fixed so wide. The woman was unperturbed by the sudden distress, and simply followed the movement as she injected the equine vulva with a cold, viscous liquid.
"There. That should do it." The stablehand gave the mare a reassuring slap on the rear as it stood trembling in shock, briefly admiring how the light coat gleamed as fine skin twitched underneath. Broader, stronger mares were preferred for this purpose, they were more resilient - but oh, what she wouldn't give for an actual horse like this. Silvery-white whispy tail and a shining isabella coat, body built small and light - an elegant runner like the ones they kept in the hot and dry countries in the far southeast. The human-like parts was less interesting, though some of the guys had a thing for centaurs, she herself never got the appeal. It matched its bottom half well enough though, light-skinned and slim-waisted, her breasts were barely handfulls - there was no way this mare had foaled - that gave her a nearly girlish appearance. Really, she thought, they really should've started with the ponies.