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When morning came, Clopper saw a bustle of activity within the stable from his vantage point in his stall.

For a few minutes, the lion thought that perhaps there was a special event taking place as the other boys were bathed, groomed, strapped into harnesses, and tethered to equipment. But then, with a sinking feeling in his gut, Mathew realized that this was more likely just another morning on the ranch.

That the other armless young men were getting prepped at the crack of dawn to work the ranch. Pulling carts, hauling dirt, moving lumber, and generally forced to act as beasts of burden as they toiled in the long shadows cast by the early morning sun.

Some of the boys cast glances his way as they were prepared, perhaps wondering with a tinge of jealousy why the new stallion was getting a pass on having to do muscle-aching labor this morning. Clopper also wondered this himself.

But the mystery was soon solved as a different handler, a thirty-something cheetah, came by Clopper's stall.

"Mr. Brandt wants to know how you'll hold up in the upcoming pony race, so we're going to do some test runs this morning."

The cheetah seemed more like he was talking past Mathew than too Mathew, perhaps because the man was somewhat distracted by the new stallion's still half-erect cock. Which, to the lion's tremendous shame, seemed to start growing the harder the moment it was looked at by the man.

Appearing to notice his inner turmoil, the handler actually looked at the teenager and smiled.

"Don't worry about it. Happens to all the stallions which come through here. It's the drugs they pump into you. Err, sorry, we're supposed to say medicine. Anyway, it pretty much removes your self-control when it comes to your pecker. You're going to be erect a lot, so it's best to just get used to it."

The strangely polite handler helped Clopper off his sleeping stand and escorted the boy out of his stall, then set to gearing the teenager up in his own pony equipment. After cleaning up, Mr. Brandt's dried cum, that is.

As he worked, the casual-seeming man continued to chat with the stallion, though now he kept his voice low so that the other handlers couldn't overhear their one-sided conversation.

"You should have seen Tight-end. He was a real hoot. Whenever he'd give me attitude, I'd just wink at him and lick my lips. The straight boy would get hard in a second and he'd be so embarrassed by his reaction that he'd stop hassling me. The other handlers always wanted to know my secret for how I was able to get the doberman to listen. So I told them a half-truth. I said that if you treat Tight-end with a little respect, he'll respond in kind. But I don't mind telling you the real reason because I'm pretty sure you'll keep my secret. Won't you, cutie?"

Clopper blushed furiously as the cheetah reached down and cupped his sack, the man's touch almost a caress as he palmed the lion's masculine parts.

The blush only intensified as the handler leaned in to whisper, "I would go down on your right here and now if it wouldn't get me into a world of trouble. But be a good boy for me today and maybe I'll find some out-of-sight cubbyhole where I can show the root of your cock what a pair of eager lips feels like."

The teenager was stunned and had no idea how to respond. Then there was a pang of hurt in his soul as he realized he wasn't expected to respond. Ponies don't talk and he'd already been made permanently mute.

Now that the stallion was fully geared, the cheetah took the boy's reins in hand and escorted him out of the stable saying, "Follow me, handsome."

Each step Mathew took made his aching arousal swing back and forth. The lewd display mortified the lion and the feeling grew even worse when the youth understood that this would be happening all the time. It might probably be his default appearance. Nude, erect, balls bouncing and dick swinging. The thought horrified him.

As they made their way across the ranch to wherever their destination was, the cheetah talked and talked and talked and Clopper had little choice but to listen. Not that he minded the 'conversation'. So far this cheetah had been the only person so far to treat him with any kind of decency at all. Clopper could see why Tight-end liked him. Or, maybe 'liked' was too strong a word. Perhaps 'tolerated'. Maybe the other boy just didn't actively despise the cheetah, like he did all the other handlers.

The man talked about all sorts of things as they walked in the still-chilly morning light. Mathew tried his best to listen but also worked hard to dedicate the layout of the ranch to memory. This information would be critical for any kind of future escape attempt.

Thankfully the handler didn't seem to notice the boy's apparent interest in his surroundings, the somewhat self-involved man seemed too interested in the sound of his own voice to notice the stallion's focus.

But Clopper did tune back into the man's never-ending monologue when the topic of conversation returned back to Tight-end, the previous stallion.

"The truth is, most of the staff doesn't care for Tight-end at all. Partly because he is a downright aggressive pain in the ass at times -- kicking, biting, and even shoulder-checking the staff. But mostly because his attitude is just piss-poor. For the most part, handlers could barely get him to listen and even when they could get him to follow instructions, he typically did a half-assed job. And this is despite the constant 'attitude correction' sessions they scheduled him for. That's how I eventually became Tight-ends primary handler. Because I was the only person he would more-or-less listen to. Not even Tom or Mr. Brandt himself could consistently achieve the results I got with him," the cheetah unabashedly bragged.

Tight-end regarded the handler with curiosity. The man seemed so warm and friendly and yet here he stood, participating in the kidnapping, mutiliation, and torture of young men like him. How could this man be seemingly kind-spirited and work for a monster like Mr. Brandt?

But, bit in mouth and vocal cords severed, Clopper was unable to ask even a single simple follow-up question like that. In his new life as an animal, the pony would always be the listening part and never the talking party.

And so, the cheetah talked on, uninterrupted.

"I bet you're curious how I got him to listen to me, aren't you?" the man said, looking back over his shoulder at Clopper who was trailing behind, guided by the reins.

Seeing that the handler was hoping for a response and wanting to stay on the man's good side, Clopper eagerly nodded.

The cheetah smiled warmly and said, "Oh, that's simple. I let him F. U. C. K. me."

The man actually spelled the word out, letter by letter, and as he finished the statement, Mathews eyes shot wide and his mouth fell open wide around the bit embedded within his mouth.

Seeing his reaction, the handler laughed uproariously.

"Hahaha! You should see the look on your face. Is it really that shocking? I don't know if you've seen Tight-end yet, but he's a handsome fella. Not in a cute or beautiful way like you, but in a rugged tough-guy way. Like one of those calendars filled with half-naked firemen. So, yeah, I let him plow me from time to time. But that's not the best part."

There was a 'best part' to this, Mathew wondered?

"The best part is, I always kept a cheerleader outfit in my backpack, so I could dress up for him when the opportunity presented itself. That's right -- After I swapped outfits, I'd pretend my name was Joline and that I was a 'huge, huge fan' of his. That I'd seen him play football and developed a big crush on him. I told him that watching him sweat and score out on the field had gotten me so hot for him and I begged him to fuck my wet pussy. Plus, it didn't hurt that I always gave him a blowjob before we started, where I'd moan around his dick like some slutty whore."

The cheetah paused then and looked around. Seeing no one within immediate line of sight, the handler pulled Clopper closer and took the lion's throbbing maleness in hand. Clopper was breathing hard as the handler began slowly stroking him.

"Then I'd bend over, hike up my skirt, and beg him to drill me. I told him he needed to hurry, before my daddy caught him in the act, fucking his little girl. The roleplay worked like a charm and Tight-end had no difficulty playing along. And as he fucked me, I would moan and whimper like it was the best fuck of my life, all while calling out his pre-pony name. Kyle, oh Kyle!"

Mathew felt his pulse race as the speed of the man's strokes increased. The cheetah was looking him right in the eyes, his gaze focused and seductive. The stallion felt his balls begin to churn, his own orgasm coming on like a runaway freight train.

"So that's it. That's the secret of how I got Tight-end to listen to me. Which, in turn, is why the chief assigned me as your primary handler. I think he's hoping lightning will strike twice and that I'll prove to be something of a pony-whisperer. But I don't care about all that."

It took Clopper a moment to notice they were moving again. The man never let his straining member go and within a minute or so they stood behind the trunk of a huge tree. The rest of the ranch was hidden from view which likewise meant that the two of them couldn't be seen either.

"All I care about right now is getting this big, juicy, thick cock of yours to feed me its load. Would you like that, Mathew? Would you like me to get on my knees so you can fuck my warm, soft lips? Do you want to cum down my throat while I lick your balls?"

The stallion had never felt more conflicted in his life. Part of his wanted nothing more than this good-looking guy to get on his knees behind this tree and give him a blowjob. But another part of him didn't want to play along with these people's sick games. Didn't want to give any handler, even this handler, leverage over him.

And so Mathew was trapped in indecision, unconsciously chewing on his bit as the man fell to his knees.

Looking up at the teenager, the handler took the pony's cock in hand and began sensuously rubbing it over his face, offering up small moans of pleasure as he did so. Just like he did with Tight-end, Mathew was sure.

"I won't make you, Mathew. It has to be your choice. I will say that blowjobs for ponies are strictly forbidden and I could get into a huge amount of trouble for this. But I think you're a good boy and that you deserve to slide your meat past my lips... into my mouth... and down my tight, welcoming throat. By the way, have I mentioned that I practiced deep-throating with Tight-end? If he could talk, he would tell you that I've gotten very, very good at it."

And with that, Mathew's resistance broke down. He was too horny to hold back anymore and with a huff he pressed himself forward, rubbing his dick and balls over the grinning cheetah's face.

"Good boy, Mathew. Now, let your handler do his job and take care of you."

Then, with greedy relish, the kneeling cheetah took the lion's rod in mouth and suckled with a loud moan that Mathew felt right in his balls. The stallion had no idea what sort of drugs that hippo had injected into his balls and up his ass. All he knew was that was the best blowjob he'd ever experienced and that it felt like the number of nerve endings on his shaft and cockhead had doubled overnight. Or maybe the cheetah really was just that good.

Mathew felt his knees go weak and made a concerted effort to remain standing. The man was already pistoning his mouth forwards and backwards at an intense pace and the pony knew he wouldn't last long.

But that was fine by him. The teenager had been certain he would be spent and dry for days following his marathon outside fucking session with the mouse, bunny, and fox. Instead, it was barely a few hours later when he started to feel an intense need to get off. A need that grew and grew until it was genuinely alarming to the boy how horny he was.

It hadn't been like normal blue-balls where Mathew was merely eager to bust a nut. Rather, in less than a day the lion blew right past "eager", past "needy", and landed right in "desperation" territory. That had been the worst part of Mr. Brandt fucking him last night.

After the initial pain of penetration had passed, the main thought running around in the stallion's head hadn't been "I hope this ends soon" but "I hope the man lets me cum too." But the equine hadn't and that had been many hours ago. In that time Clopper's need had only continued to grow and now the smiling, friendly cheetah had given him that opportunity.

The handler sucked and rubbed Mathew, his talented hands rubbing the lion's balls, stomach, chest, and ass. All the while, he took the lion's member far down into his throat with every thrust. Clopper blushed yet again as he realized this is exactly what Tight-end felt. No wonder the other boy listened to Conner.

Mathew felt his orgasm approaching and for a moment tried to hold back. But between his need, the drugs, and the cheetah's amazing mouth, this proved impossible. Instead, the lion tried to warn the man of the coming flood only to be rudely reminded that he was unable to speak. So the stallion stomped a hoof in the dirt in an effort to signal.

Conner got the message and pulled the teenager in deep, the man's hands returning to Clopper's sack to encourage the youth to cum as hard and as fast as he could.

The climax went on and on as the boy's cock jetted thick streams of seed directly down into the handler's throat. Conner rippled his throat muscles to expertly milk the lad's shaft and Mathew thought he might cry. It felt so good.

Only when the orgasm eventually tapered off and concluded did Conner pull free of the girth which had been wedged far down the back of his mouth.

"Now THAT was an impressive climax, Clopper. Really great stuff. Did it feel good for you too?

Feeling a bit exhausted, the lion nodded. His knees almost wobbled under the sudden ebbing away of sexual energy.

"And, while I hate to sound pushy so soon after meeting you and right after you got off, I'm really curious to know whether you agree with me about what I was getting at earlier. That it would be best if the two of us could continue to get along. We could be sort of like friends, just like Tight-end and I were. I know you're in a pretty tough situation right now and your life is going through a lot of changes, but what do you think of that idea, Mathew?"

The lion didn't believe that the cheetah's intentions were as innocent as he pretended. After all, how innocent could one be if they participated in the daily management and exploitation of sex slaves? At the same time, it seemed like a good idea to stay on the man's good side.

So Clopper nodded as his cock, which refused to wilt to less than half hard, dripped the last remnants of his climax onto the ground.

Pleased to have the stallion's cooperation, the handler took the boy's plump, dripping member in hand and shook it like he was offering a hand-shake.

"Name's Conner. Pleased to be working with you, Mathew."

After that, the pair resumed their walk towards whenever the cheetah was leading them.

==================

Clopper ran out the race track, his heart pounding in his chest as he felt his mane grow heavy with fresh sweat.

Conner may have wanted to be his 'friend', but that apparently didn't stop the cheetah from barking instructions at the lion as he ran around the circuit, hands bound behind him as he breathed heavily around his bit.

As the pony passed by the frowning cheetah yet again the man glanced at his stop watch and yelled out, "Clopper, you need to pick up the pace! These lap times are terrible!"

They'd only been at this for a quarter hour and already Mathew was starting to feel worn down. Plus, he was getting frustrated. He had been a gas station attendant -- not an olympic athlete! Also, he hadn't asked for any of this! He'd been kidnapped, raped, toyed with, muted, bound, blown, and now he was being chided like some child! The teenager found it infuriating but continued to run. Mostly because he didn't know what else to do.

"No, no, stop stop stop. Clopper, come here."

Turning on a rubber hoof, the stallion approached the cheetah while trying to keep his anger from showing. This entitled brat was starting to annoy him.

"Listen, Clopper, I know it must sound like I'm just being hard on you to be a jerk. But there's actually a good reason for this. Tell me, has anyone explained to you about the weekly races, here at the ranch?"

Clopper shook his head 'no' as he felt himself growing angrier still.

'No, Conner. No one has told me shit. They treat me like a fucking animal. Or did you somehow miss that?' the boy wanted to retort back. But since he was unable to, the bitter words went unspoken. Which was probably for the best, given that it was a handler that was addressing him.

"Alright, then that's a good topic for us to cover. So, once a week Mr. Brandt has all his ponies brought to the primary race track and then there is a bit of a competition. There are two back-to-back races. The first one is a short race, where the focus is on speed. The second race is longer with a focus on endurance and stamina."

Clopper wanted to roll his eyes but resisted the urge.

'Of course the insane rich man wants his little toys to compete for him. And don't tell me -- the winner gets a prize. Maybe a nice, thick horse cock up their ass or down their throat?', the lion thought to himself.

Unaware of Mathew's mental commentary, the handler continued on with his explanation.

"The kicker is that ponies are awarded points, which are stack ranked. There's always a winner and there is always a loser, and ties are impossible. The winner earns themselves some perks for the following week. Air conditioning in their stall. Music. Massages. General pampering, that kind of stuff. But the loser..."

The man looked grim as he reached this part of the explanation and Clopper found himself listening despite his tremendous annoyance.

"The losers get placed on what's referred to as 'punishment duty'. And trust me, you do not want to get placed on punishment duty. It lasts at least a week but I've seen the same pony lose multiple times back to back and they just keep getting put right back on punishment duty. It's bad enough for geldings but for stallions placed on punishment duty, it's even worse. I'm talking daily, extended cock-and-ball torture. Aggressive urethra expansion. Fisting. Sleep deprivation. Ice-water enemas. And all that might just be the first day. This goes on for a week!"

Mathew's blood ran ice cold. Every time he thought he was beginning to understand the depths of depravity this ranch had to offer, he ended up being horribly off the mark. So one of the five ponies was constantly under some form of daily punishment? And the ponies were all competing against each other to avoid being subjected to this agony?

'Wait, so this is all some twisted version of Hunger Games? Why haven't you called the police on the horse, you fucking moron! Pick up the phone and call someone!'

Conner must have seen Clopper's worried expression because the cheetah approached the lion and began petting him. Though, to the stallion's profound discomfort, 'petting' seemed to involve having his balls and dick stroked, along with his chest, stomach, and shoulders.

The truth was, losing the weekly race wasn't quite as catastrophic as the cheetah was leading the pony to believe. But his goal was to scare the teenager badly enough that the youth took this training seriously.

"Shhh, it's okay, boy," the handler said, softly pumping Mathew's cock with one hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Mr. Brandt uses weights as a handicap system, which makes the races more fair due to the size difference between the ponies. Since you're new and the other ponies have had years of experience, you almost certainly won't be wearing any extra weight. Besides, you don't need to win the race. You just need to avoid coming in last place."

The stallion vaguely recalled something the equine had said when he'd first arrived at the ranch. Hadn't Lusty been on punishment duty? That bear in the guard's uniform had been not only fucking him but also choking the fox out at the same time. The other boy had looked close to passing out as the climaxing bear had slowly squeezed the life out of him.

"Which is why it's so important that you take this practice seriously. I'm really trying to help you out here. Because take my word for it, a little sweat and exhaustion now is nothing compared to a week being on Mr. Brandt's shit-list. Not even Tight-end is willing to blow off the races. As I recall, he only lost a single time before he decided that taking the races seriously was the smart move."

To Clopper's eternal shame, he found himself approaching the point of no return as the cheetah simultaneously stroked and lectured him. Conner must have noticed this too because just as Mathew prepared himself to blow thick globs of cream all over the handlers hands and body, the man let go.

It took the stallion a couple seconds of humping the empty air before he realized what had happened. Mathew blinked in surprise, suddenly confused at the cheetah's intentions.

"Bet you were real close, weren't ya? Now, I want you to take that extra sexual energy and transform it into racing performance. Show some improvement and when we get back to the stable, I'll let you breed one of the other ponies."

Clopper didn't want to fuck one of those unfortunate armless, ball-less boys. He wanted the cheetah to finish what he started! The stallion huffed air through his bit and took a step towards the handler, pushing out his hips as he did so to get his intention across.

"No sir! I've told you my offer and I plan to stick by it. So you can stand there and pout and stay horny, or you can get those handsome legs of yours in gear. Come on, Clopper. Just a few more times around the track and I'll personally guide your cock into the gelding of your choice. Didn't that fox look pretty? I saw you eyeing him, earlier."

Mathew blushed. He'd thought he'd been subtle when he stole those glances at the other lad.

"Ohhhh, is that how it is? Have a bit of a crush, do we?" Conner teased. "But I'm just joshin' ya. You probably didn't know that Lusty used to be an escort, did ya? Guys paid thousands of dollars just to go on dates with the pretty boy. But you won't have to pay a single cent. All you have to do is give me a few solid laps and then you and Lusty can have a special 'date night', no flowers or champagne needed."

The stallion wasn't sure. This didn't feel right to him. Trading racing practice for getting access to under a fox's tail. But then again, they'd already had sex before. And this wasn't anything the other boy hadn't already had to deal with for presumably years now. Plus, Mathew felt extraordinarily pent up. Which was deeply worrying because he'd just blown a load down the cheetah's throat not that long ago.

'It must be all those injections they're giving me," the lion considered. 'They're making it hard for me to think with anything other than the small brain between my legs. If this gets much worse, I'm just going to be a walking penis, incapable of higher-level thinking or complex thoughts.'

Seeing the teenager's hesitation, Conner tried a different approach.

"Hey, no pressure to decide right now, yeah? Let's just get back to practice. Remember, Mr. Brandt always watches the races. And take it from me, he is not a man you want to disappoint or embarrass. As his personal stallion, you need to put on a good showing or Mr. Brandt will bring you down into the secret basement, under the manor. I heard a rumor that he has these hooks mounted from the ceiling where he hangs ponies up like punching bags. They say he puts on these old fashioned boxing gloves and... well, you get the idea. Anyway, it's just a rumor."

Clopper felt his stomach drop. From what he'd learned so far of the man, it took very little imagination on the lion's part to imagine the horse getting off on torturing his 'ponies'. If the man was capable of castrating, muting, and amputating teenage boys like himself, the man was capable of anything.

The pony leapt up into the air as he felt the unexpected slap on his ass. The teenager stared at Conner in shock and surprise.

"I said get to running, boy. I know I said that we're friends now, but friendship goes both ways. I'm gonna get into trouble if I don't get you racing shape. So get to running, yeah?"

Angry at being smacked on the ass, the stallion wanted to argue the point when Conner raised his hand as if to strike him again.

At that point, Mathew decided it was smarter to just do as he was told and started running again. Behind him, the man who had just struck him was now actively cheering him on.

"Yeah, Clopper! Get that dick swinging! You look gorgeous, baby!"

As it turned out, the stallion ran the track for another full hour. Every few laps, Conner made the teenager stop, drink some water from the bottle he'd brought in his backpack, and stroked the lion back to full erection to 'keep him focused'.

By the end of their practice session, the pony was feeling extremely horny and pent up. And he must have not been the only one because just before they started back towards the stable Conner sheepishly said, "Hey, buddy... go ahead and get on your knees for me, would ya?"

Confused but too tired to try and argue, Mathew did as he was told.

Which meant that a few moments later the pony was looking at an erect cock, produced by the cheetah from behind his pants' zipper.

"I'm gonna take your bit off so you can, uhhh, reciprocate my earlier thoughtfulness. And I don't want to see any complaining, okay? Fair's fair. I did you, so you do me."

Clopper really wasn't given much opportunity to object as the suddenly shy and blushing man took off his bit before rudely pushing his member forward to take the leather's place. As it turned out, the cheetah was averagely endowed so Mathew didn't have much trouble accommodating the handler.

"Don't make me do all the work, yeah? Move your head and stuff. You got a tongue, yeah? Well, use it. Don't be selfish."

The comments annoyed the teenager because he had been the one straining and sweating under the hot sun while the man had just stood there, barking out demeaning instructions like, 'get the lead out!' and 'feel the burn!'

But with as horny as he was feeling as with the cheetah's erection already in his mouth, it didn't take any further encouragement on the part of the handler to have Clopper get with the program.

The stallion's own keenly felt need combined with the happy noises Conner was making helped the former gas station attendant get into the mood. Clopper sucked and licked the unit as the man ran his fingers through the lion's mane. As the handler worked his fingers over Mathew's head and through his hair, the cheetah alternated between making soft whimpering sounds and mumbling inaudible encouragement.

For a brief moment Mathew entertained the idea of chomping off the cheetah's sexual equipment at the root, but the lad quickly dismissed this option. Not only would such an action be gruesome in the extreme, but it would gain him nothing and certainly cost him a great deal. Clopper was sure that the day he bit Mr. Brandt or a handler was the day they pulled his teeth out.

Conner, for his part, was entirely unaware of the extreme danger his cock had been momentarily placed in. The cheetah had worked at this ranch for a handful of years now and had grown accustomed to getting his way with ponies. For this reason, the man naively assumed that Tom and Mr. Brandt wouldn't send him out alone with Clopper unless they were convinced the boy didn't pose a risk.

Luckily for the cheetah, he hadn't been hired for his intelligence. Rather, he'd been hired for his willingness to engage in morally dubious conduct for a generous salary given his thin resume. And then there were the various 'unofficial benefits' that came with working on the ranch.

The handler didn't think of himself as a bad guy for working on the ranch. Instead, he tended to think of himself as a nice guy who was just trying to make a living. And even as the handler trained, fucked, and punished the ponies, he thought it was better to do it himself than some other jerk-off who'd do it wrong or permanently harm the ponies.

Plus, Conner always tried to take a special, personal interest in each of the ponies. Even Bandit, who was viewed by many as the wallflower of the bunch. The cheetah would tell the ponies stories, share tidbits of news from the outside world, and even occasionally sneak them tasty treats that he knew the boys would like.

In turn, by and large the ponies also generally held a positive view of the handler. At least, most considered him preferable to most of the staff at the ranch. Even Tight-end didn't actively hate the man. Sometimes the doberman even found himself enjoying the cheetah's company, especially when the handler dressed up in that slutty cheerleader outfit and let the canine fuck his knot into the moaning cross-dresser.

So far Mathew hadn't formed a definitive opinion of Conner, but the lion had to admit it was cute the way the cheetah bit his lip and moaned as the lion went down on him. And the stallion did get the sense that the handler was genuinely trying to help him out, in his own misguided way.

Clopper would have vastly preferred if the man had picked up a phone and called for help if he wanted to assist the teenager. But the boy supposed it made sense that the handler didn't want to risk crossing these dangerous people or ruin his own life, just to save a kid he'd never met before.

And while Mathew was mentally considering these weighty and complex topics of morality, ethics, and social justice, Conner's much-less-complicated mind was focused on enjoying the simple yet exquisite pleasure of a blowjob.

"Oh, Clopper," the cheetah moaned. "Your mouth is magnificent. Don't hate me for saying this... but you're going to be very popular with the ranch staff."

Mathew didn't like the sound of that at all. Though, recalling back to the guard using Lusty and Mr. Brandt's forceful intrusion into his ass the night before, this news didn't exactly shock him.

The pony was thinking about this when the thrusting cock in his mouth suddenly erupted without warning. The lion was pissed at having his tongue coated without so much as a heads-up and with an annoyed expression looked up at the cheetah, only to discover that the man now his eyes closed in pleasure.

Clopper wasn't sure if the man was trying to send him a message with his rudeness or if it just genuinely didn't occur to the handle that the teenager might appreciate a word of warning before he was force-fed cum.

"Whew! That's what I'm talking about, boy," the now grinning cheetah said, as he finished up and helped Clopper to his hooves. "You're already that good and you haven't even had any proper cocksucking training. Which means you'll be the Beethoven of suckin' cock by the time the other handlers get through with you."

The man's words were a fresh reminder to Mathew that he and the other boys weren't viewed as people so much as intelligent livestock. It didn't even cross the cheetah's mind that the teenager might not want to go down on a never ending parade of men who stopped by his stall just to get their dicks wet. To Conner, a pony was a sexual animal who sucked and got fucked and that was that.

As if to prove that point, the handler replaced Clopper's bit and then reached down with both hands and once again began manipulating the lion's still full-mast arousal. The boy wished there was something he could do other than stand there and let the man play with him. He also wished the handler's hands didn't feel so good as he chewed gently on the rubber bit in sexual frustration.

"You know, you stallions are so brave. If I was in your position, I don't know that I'd be able to deal with knowing that I was going to lose my balls in three years' time. I can't imagine life without my sack. I guess you could say I'm rather attached to it, haha."

It was a real head-fuck for the former gas station attendant to have his cock played with at the same time as his future castration was discussed as casually as one might bring up the weather. He felt his member throb in the man's hands as though it were eager to get off before Clopper's low-hangers were taken away.

"But even with that appointment with the vet looming over you guys, you just keep on keepin' on. You're like, super heroes or something. And even after Dr. Marcus plucks away your male bits and tidies up your pouch, you ponies just keep working the ranch like nothing has changed. Suckin' and fuckin' and haulin' and sweatin'. As an average-joe sort of guy, I got to say, it just blows me away."

One of Conner's hands came down to play with and tug on Mathew's sack, the man running a finger across the bottom of the youth's balls as if tracing the line where the future scalpel might travel.

The lion felt himself getting close and the boy was somewhat horrified to realize he might cum to a description of his own future gelding. The thought made him feel so dirty and low.

"I've never seen the gelding process myself. I figure they got to use numbing medicine first, right? It'd be too cruel otherwise. I mean, it's bad enough to have your family jewels taken away. No point in making you suffer through it. Though, I did hear a rumor they hold up a mirror and make the pony watch. There's some psycho-mo-logical reason for it. Something about helping the pony understand they're a gelding now."

Mathew tried to tune the handler out but he couldn't deny that the man's words were getting to him. They already took his voice. Next they were going to take his arms. And then, one day not too long away, they were going to take his balls. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

The stallion shook his head as if trying to dispel the unwanted thoughts, as he also fought to get his body back under control.

No! He wasn't going to blow a load to a description of his own gelding! He wouldn't cum! No matter how good the cheetah's paws felt.

"Hey, now, no need to get blue about it. That's three whole years away! Practically an eternity. Also, getting castrated is not all bad. When a stallion fucks up, the senior handlers really punish the boy's balls something brutal. Trust me, I was around for some of Tight-ends fuck ups and there was more than one occasions where I think he might have chosen to get castrated rather than deal with all that. Hell, I didn't know balls could swell that big. Or that you could hang that much weight off a lad's sack without their pair getting pulled clean off."

Conner's hands were enthusiastically stroking him now, the man apparently not convinced that it should be Clopper's call whether or not he got to cum. Mathew resisted the pumping, stroking, and squeezing but his balls had already informed him this was a losing battle.

"Anyway the point is, just do as you're told and don't embarrass Mr. Brandt and you'll have a grand three years. I promise. Hey, I'm being serious! Stallions really get pampered here, when you think about it. Lots of tasty treats, extra privileges, days off, not to mention a herd of horny geldings eager to get fucked practically whenever you want. I tell you, some days I'm even a little envious of you stallions. Must be kinda nice to live such a simple life. No taxes. No boring desk job. No studying or tests. You get to kiss all that boring shit goodbye forever. So I really think you should give it a chance. You might find being a stallion is not so bad, yeah?"

Clopper had reached his limit. He loathed his own weakness even as his body prepared to squirt lion cream all over the ground in thick streams. All while Conner had provided him with a humiliatingly thorough description of his shameful fate as a rich man's trained animal.

But just as the stallion's balls tensed up and raised in preparation to fire off their payload, the cheetah's hands disappeared from Mathew's stalk. All stimulation ceased as the pony found himself teetering on the edge of an orgasmic abyss.

Were the teenager capable of groaning in frustration, he would have. His member strained and bounced as the cheetah watched, amused by the boy's swinging equipment.

The youth felt crushed and humiliated. He'd resisted and fought against this moment, but when he'd finally surrendered and given into the inevitable, he'd been cruelly denied. If the cheetah had been trying to drive home the point that his body was just a toy for free men to play with, mission accomplished.

Mathew tried to glare at the handler angrily, but he was so horny that he thought he might instead only manage to come across as desperate and exhausted.

"Still doubting me, eh? Here, let's go find Lusty. You're gonna rock that pony's world, and I'm going to help. Bet you've never had your balls played with while you fucked a nymphomaniac before."

As Conner took the reins and escorted the stallion back towards the stable, the lion began to experience a crisis of conscience. Would he really allow himself to go along with this? To be 'bred' with another boy while the cheetah watched?

What would Lusty think about this? Would the other pony resent him? Or was the other male as addicted to stallion cum as Mr. Brandt claimed? Maybe both? Perhaps the fox would despise him for mounting him even as the unfortunately named gelding pushed back against him?

Was there even a choice to be made here? Or would he get his balls punished if he refused to mount the armless lad? Perhaps the smarter move was to just accept the reality of the situation until he could manage to escape?

And did Conner say something about playing his balls? How would the cheetah do it? Would he pet them? Stroke them? Tug on them? ...Suck on them?

As Clopper's erection swung back and forth in the hot midday sun, his body thrummed with barely contained sexual energy.

A few feet ahead of him, the smiling cheetah breathed the ranch air in deep. Life was good and he felt amazing. The handler always felt like this after swallowing stallion cum. It had been a rough few days since Tight-end had been gelding, but now he had secured another source of the delicious cream that made him feel so good.

He'd heard the rumor that stallion cum was addictive, but that was nonsense. He could quit anytime he wanted. Yep, he could stop at the drop of a hat if it ever became a problem or if he ever got too close to getting caught, given that it was technically against the rules to ingest stallion cum.

Yep, everything was fine and under control.

As the giddy and well-satisfied cheetah walked, leash in hand, he spotted a recently abandoned building which was now empty due to upcoming renovations.

The handler felt his pulse pick-up as he eyed the building, excitement building in his chest.

'That building looks perfect,' the cheetah thought to himself, as his shining stream-of-consciousness train of thought carried on.

'I can take Clopper there and I can see for myself first hand how lion-ponies fuck. I can even give him pointers as he breeds me. It will be almost like a lesson. Hell, it will be a lesson! This is why I'm so good at my job -- because I take initiative like this. I'll teach the stallion to fuck and then he'll fill me... oh god, I can't wait until he fills me. Is tomorrow too soon? ...No, I don't think so. Besides, the sooner Clopper learns to breed like Mr. Brandt wants him to, the better. Yeah, this is all for Clopper. Clopper needs this."

Looking over his shoulder, the cheetah locked his eyes on the stallion's throbbing cock and hungrily licked his lips.

Oblivious, Clopper marched on, his mind focused on a certain handsome fox.