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His Humanity Broken

Trapped in a Horse's Body

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Adagiodajiang

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A continuation of Captured, Transformed and Forced to Breed.

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Foe? Friend?

Hika started awake, head up and nostrils flared, taking short, sharp puffs of breath, his equine head turning back and forth quickly, searching for danger. There was something there, someone there, but a horse couldn't do anything about that but to react, grunting softly as his sharp eyes and ears sought it out. There had to be a threat, something to have woken him, yet a Thoroughbred like him

However... Hika had not always been a horse and, truly, there was still some of his human mind behind the equine expression, ears twitching, the sheen of humanity residing behind his eyes. Captured by the dictator in a world that, in times gone by, would have been called a dystopian post-apocalypse, everything that he had known had been stripped from him - except for his love of running. And, in a race horse, that was a very good thing indeed to be left behind.

He needed to run, stomping and snorting in his stall, other horses looking back at him - geldings and one other stallion, just like him, down at the far end. He didn't know whether they were other humans who had been turned into horses like him or if they were genuinely just horses, though it didn't really matter. Hika had not lost a single race as yet and he did not intend to, running being the only thing that brought him joy in a life that had turned upside down.

Wake up.

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He blinked. That was a voice he hadn't heard in a while, a voice that came from his own head, though not a place that he visited all that often.

Run.

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Where to? There was nowhere to go, not with the stall door closed. Best not to worry about that little voice too much. A horse didn't need to think like that, fragments of sensations floating about in his head without forming true words anymore.

Still... His human side still lingered, lurking in the darkness while the horse side took over for most of the day to day stuff. It was easier to slink back, to allow the horse brain to do what was needed. Maybe then he didn't have to think too much about what had happened to him.

He'd thought that he'd lost his human brain entirely when he had been forced (he used that term loosely) to mate the third mare when his mind wavered and broke more and more. It was as if his brain, quite literally, was attached to the inside of his skull, fragmenting and drifting away more and more as he sank down and down, falling from anything and everything that may have resembled humanity. He'd lost himself the and forgotten all about times when it had seemed like he was in control of his body, a man in the rebellion, fighting back against everything that his world had become.

After that, it had been easier, for a while, to just be a horse, a horse that obeyed commands, listened to aids, did what he needed to in order to get by. A horse did not need to do any more than that, not even as he looked out over the door, nose wavering back and forth, coming down from a state of high arousal, his nerves settling. An urge stirred in his abdomen, making his cock slip out just a little, soft and ready for something else, releasing a stream of hot, pungent urine that spattered down into the thick straw of his stable bed.

Hika groaned. Once, it would have embarrassed him to do such a thing, yet it felt so natural to the horse side of him that it overruled the human part. The human part was easily squashed those days anyway and he finished off by relieving himself too, tail lifting to deposit a fresh pile of horse-apples in the corner of the stall. Maybe it just felt better to him to be able to do it in the privacy of a stable rather than when everyone had been staring at him, though that was just another little thing that Hika told himself just to make himself feel a little bit better.

"Breakfast time, lad."

Hika snorted and lowered his face to his tub as it was tossed over the stable door for him, the stable lad the one who was there all the time. As much as his human mind still existed, the horse mind did not recognise faces like that, only seeing the hot feed, full of oats and things that would make him run fast. The human's identifying, in Hika's case, was not his face but the food that he brought every morning like clockwork, a regular schedule kept in the king's prize racing stables. As Hika was the best of the best, he always got fed first.

After breakfast, he picked at his hay net, slipping down into a softening, dreary state that didn't allow him to think too much about what was happening. The quiet sounds of other horses munching away were soothing to his mind and he could allow that to be, not thinking of anything, no thoughts forming. It was harder and harder to form sentences in his mind but he did what he could, clinging to the last shreds of his humanity in any way that he could.

At some point in the morning, they came to take him to be trained, breezing him down the gallops at a light, ground-covering run that did not stress him. It was strange to carry a man on his back but he had long ago learned that there were easier things to do than fight back, even though the strike of a whip was not something he needed, often, to go faster. If there was one thing that Hika could do, it was stretch out into a gallop, chomp at the bit, straining to go faster and faster, no longer any obstacles in his way. There had been talk about training him for steeple chasing too, the long, hunt-style races that tested endurance as well as sharp bursts of speed on the flat, though he had not yet come to that.

He remembered the jumps from his earlier days as a human boy, however, when his feet had curled with white, pink toes and not the hardness of equine hooves. He had not been able to afford tickets to the races, of course, when times had been better and had snuck in sometimes to stand in the crowd, watching the horses run, muscular beasts that roared like dragons as they powered down the tracks. What Hika really loved, however, was how the obstacles had played into his work after dark in his teenage years, as things were kicking off.

At first, he had scrambled over the massive jumps, brush sticking up, bristling and formidable. Later, he had been able to clear it in a single leap, his stronger legs lifting him forth. Things had changed since then but it had been running around the track as a scrawnier, yet swiftly fitter, young lad that had gotten him to where he had been in the rebellion, pushing on to do the best kind of good that he had ever thought he had ever been able to do in the world.

Those days, however, were long gone, but he could still appreciate the cool of water splashing over his muscles after a workout, standing in the cross-ties of the wash rack. Water streamed from him and the equine mind took over completely as his shaft dropped, the relaxation of standing there, being taken care of, so simply good that not even Hika could resist it. His human mind quivered in embarrassment at being so exposed but it was fair to say that the stable boys there and hands had seen more than their fair share of dropped stallions and what he had under his belly was most certainly of no interest to them.

That should have been the end of the day, although he did wonder why he had only been trained lightly, practically only warmed up. That, however, was revealed as he was loaded into a smooth, fancy new horse lorry that felt as if he was standing in his stall, technology having advanced within the tyrant's reign wherever it suited him. And one thing that brought in money was horse racing, a king's sport, the sport of kings - something that surely he had to continue when it pleased the powers within his tyranny.

Unloaded at the track, however, Hika was raring to go, the horse mind and the human mind in agreement with one another and champing at the bit. He pranced and reared, snorting, head held high and eyes wide, hearing only the boom of the announcer and seeing the track beyond the crowds. That was where he needed to be, out there, running, doing, feeling as if he was worth something again, as if he had not entirely lost every last bit of his power as a human. For out on the track, even though he was still, clearly, a horse, he felt like he could be more than that, the winner that he had wanted to be for so very long.

Out there, he could at least pretend. Cups and cheering meant that he had done well, though winning, to him, was something different to that.

Still, there was a hot rush of embarrassment and a snort as he knew his sheath and balls were on show, trying to clamp his tail down over his tail hole even though he knew that there was little he could do to hide his shame. But he was out there, naked, so many eyes on him... Hika breathed shortly and shallowly, whipping his head back and forth, though his trainer only took that for exuberance. They didn't know that he was a human in a horse's body and treated him as if he was nothing more than a high-spirited stallion. Yet as much as Hika tried to turn the thickness of his apple-bottom, his tail slicing between his firmly rounded glutes, away from the crowd, he knew, even then, that there was no escaping his fate.

Better just to run. To run from all his problems, charge on through it, snorting and bellowing, taking all that he could as a human-stallion, whatever he was. That was, after all, just what the crowd had come there to see at the end of it all.

He ran like his life depended on it, in full racing tack, snorting and heaving, breathing a single breath with every single stride. Galloping gave him life but there were mares too on the track to distract him, foam speckling their chests as they were ridden harder than he was, for they may as well have dropped out of the race considering how unlikely it was for any of them to beat him.

No, there could only be one winner there and he charged down the home stretch, the final furlong, with his neck stretched all the way out. The horse and the human in Hika strained and stretched, fighting with every ounce of strength in their body to break through, though they should have already have known that there were only other horses to their back. He'd left the rest of them in the dust, as usual, streaking across the finish line where a photo finish most certainly was not needed.

It took him some time to slow and pull up, to take the speed out of his strides, though his jockey was a regular who trusted him too.

"Good boy, that's a good boy..."

The pat on his hot, sweaty neck was appreciated, even if it stirred him up all the more, and Hika nickered back tossing his head, flinging a bit of foamy saliva back at his rider. The jockey laughed and flicked it away, shaking his head at the spirited stallion who was such a difficult ride and yet gave him the win each and every time he went out.

Hika pranced back to the winner's circle, the stadium seats rising above him. Others talked about setting him at the jumps next time and something in his mind pulled him back to an earlier time, how it had felt to stretch his legs and borrow flight, if only for a short time. That sounded good, yes. That had him chewing and mouthing at his racing bit all over again, the leather of his bridle a comfortable fit as someone turned him, the scent of another horse hitting his nostrils.

The winner's circle was surrounded by a half-height hedge but that could not conceal the pretty dark bay mare that was brought to him, though she had not raced that day. The crowd hollered and shouted but Hika heard none of that, his human mind falling away, screaming, the moment her scent hit his nostrils. In that moment, he was lost, could not fight back, had nothing more to fight back with as his tail flagged proudly, one hoof after the other high-stepping, showing off all that he had to offer. And what he had to offer was a heavily swinging pair of stallion-nuts, his tail flicking, swishing, his tail pushed up high, showing off the thick roundness of his backside too.

He didn't want to be there, not really, yet there was nothing at all that he could do to stop it as he advanced at a prance, slipping into piaffe, even though a move like that should not have been the forte, not at any time, of a race horse. Hika, however, was so much more than a race horse, however, as the pretty mare braced her hind legs and presented herself to him, her marehood winking passionately in a smooth swathe of dark grey. She released a stream of hot piss, signifying her readiness for him, and he could not resist curling his upper lip back, sifting through those hormones as he tried to fight back and made absolutely no difference at all in the intricacies of his psyche.

His cock spilt out in a hot length of meat, sheath plumping out, though he could only feel vaguely embarrassed about it, the mare's scent working its magic on him, as it always did. As much as he tried to remember, above all else, that he was human, he couldn't keep it in mind, couldn't maintain any chain of thought or even a single notion of a thought. It was just too much for him, too much for a simple, equine mind. All he knew was that the mare needed him as his cock thickened and plumped up wantonly, abdominals contracting to make it bounce, his body wanting to breed, to mount, to push.

Hika's eyes closed, but only briefly, human intelligence fading from them as he opened them all over again. He could only obey. There should have been more hesitation in it than there was, everything drawing out in a moment as adrenaline pumped through him, though not very much time passed at all for him. All he could see before him was her marehood flexing, drawing his attention, claiming every last bit of it. Hika's nostrils flared, sucking in her scent, full of hormones as, once again, his upper lip trembled back into a curl, sifting through her scent, though a stallion like him already knew well enough that she was ready for him. She had been ready for him before he'd even known there was a mare there, the spill of her luxuriously long tail pushed to the side, welcoming his advances in the best way a mare could.

The mare swept all humanity from his mind and then he only knew the feeling of being a horse. His hooves shifted on the fine, white sand of the champion's ring and he snorted thickly as he pushed over her, mounting her naturally. There was nothing in him that resisted, not the horse side, feeling instinct taking over, yet the human part squealed and stomped.

Don't do it.

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His human side cried out, clawing at him, trying to take that pleasure from him. Hika tossed his head, torn. The stallion, however, wouldn't have it.

Don't do it, stop. You're better than this.

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As clear a thought as it was, for once, it did not help him one bit. His cock ached, fleshing out thick and full, the medial ring defined in the smooth, pulsing length. Even his balls churned softly, wanting to spill a load, the mare before him more than ready as she winked and winked for him, her tail already well lifted out of the way.

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The stallion's nostrils fluttered with breath, cock out and throbbing, slapping up against his stomach as he sought her entrance, that winking, pulsing marehood. It didn't matter to him whether she was, potentially, another horse that had once been human or whether she was just a horse: them coming together was just something that horses did. He snorted heavily, finally sinking home, his cock sliding into her as ecstasy erupted.

Stop. Stop this.

"There's a good stud, are you enjoying your new work?"

Hika snorted, ears back, though he did not recognise the man inside him, only heard the cheers. Master? Foe? He was familiar, that much Hika knew, but it was hard to think or even care about anything else as he pushed on, thrusting and humping, shuffling his hind hooves in a little closer just so that he could round his hindquarters a little more. There was only a limited amount of flexion to be had there but he could still hunker down over her a little more, forelegs draped rather than gripping, not understanding that it was the tyrant king who had captured him in the first place walking around him.

You're...not...

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Yet he could not finish the thought, equine and human twisting together inside him, a horse's instinct stomping it down. The voice did not belong there, not in the mind of a stallion, as much as the real Hika wanted it to rise, to push back against everything that had forced him to become something and someone that he was not. There was a shame there, wrapped up deep inside, his nudity on show, every part of his body opened up for the humans to gawk at, to laugh at, to be used as only a mindless beast of a horse could be used.

"Yah!"

The tyrant slapped his arse, encouraging him on, and Hika responded by thrusting more manically, driving in over and over again. His backside stung from the slap, a little higher towards his hip, but another did the trick, stinging his hide as he obeyed the best he could by thrusting on. The mare ground back underneath him, her folds sweetly enveloping him, though he knew she wanted him to. There was hardly even anyone holding her, the lead rope looped back over her neck, the breeding as natural as it could be without anyone to interfere, though everyone was watching.

The tyrant smirked as Hika thrust and thrust, watching his prize stud, the one that some knew the truth of and the rest remained ignorant. Well, some chose to be ignorant, not seeing what he was doing to the world, but that was something that would forever remain their fault. Even as Hika thrust, he removed a pen from his pocket, though it was not just any pen. No, any writing from that pen would not fade through rain or sun or wind or snow when written onto the hide of a horse, designed for horse-hair specifically. And there was a very special name that many needed to be reminded of, who Hika was even if he thought that Hika did not know, could not know, who he really was or who he had been.

The stallion rocked and groaned, barely aware of the tickle of the pen on his hindquarters as he thrust. He only had to thrust and that, truly, did not take much brainpower, much less from a horse, everyone watching, so many eyes on him. Although the horse mind was in full control, Hika still, somehow, managed to find something in himself to push back against it, clamping his tail down as much as he possibly could. At least in that way, if he held onto that part of himself as he thrust and thrust and thrust, he could think that he still had some control over himself.

"No... No, we can't have that can we, boy?"

The human, the tyrant that Hika did not recognise, smirked and grasped his tail close to the dock, forcing him to yank it up as much as he tightened the muscles there, pulling it down with all his might. He just wanted out, to not have to feel everything that he was being forced to feel, that thick pucker of his tail hole, like a doughnut of flesh, exposed and on show for everyone to see. The audience did not understand the significance of his anal ring being exposed and that he was naked as a man and a horse at the same time but Hika felt it cut to his core. He nickered throatily but conflicting sensations pulled at him, driving in, thrusting and grinding, not knowing what to do. He snorted and rolled his eyes but there was no escaping the drive of instinct as he thrust in past the medial ring, closer and closer to orgasm with every thrust.

"See how my prize stud breeds!"

To the audience, it was a normal part of keeping horses, although it was more of a spectacle in Hika's case than anything else. Yet there was a name on their lips, one that should have been familiar to the stallion and yet wasn't, his hindquarters quivering as he thrust and ground, the writing on his backside bright for all to see.

"Hika Peacemaker, Hika Peacemaker, Hika Peacemaker..."

The crowd chanted, revealing his full name, the name that had been written on his backside to debase him before the throes of all there. Hika shuddered bodily but that was partly because he was buried inside the mare, closer and closer to orgasm with every passing second and yet not able to resist the hot pull of the mare's folds. He didn't know that that was his name even as the big screens, usually used to show the race, instead focused the cameras on him, showing a close-up shot of his name splashed across his rump, how bright it was, impossible to miss.

The tyrant king stood back and laughed, baring his teeth in a toothy sort of grin. He had done what he needed to in sending a message to the rebels, for there was still an underground movement ongoing, even though it had stuttered a bit when Hika had been captured. They would know, he was confident in it, even though they were dull souls that, quite explicitly, needed a message like that spelt out for them. There was no mistaking what was on the horse's backside, however, as he stood back and a glass of something delectably alcoholic was pressed into his hand - something befitting a king.

Just a stallion, a stallion that belonged to a man. There was no pride left for the man that was Hika in such a body, though he quailed within, sinking down, knowing there was nothing he could do. It felt too good to be inside the mar, thrusting and grinding deep, her folds clenching around him, begging for his seed, wanting him to cum, even though he did not know whether he could hold off to satisfy his human pride. Maybe he was lying to himself even then in claiming that he could hold back from such highs, maybe he thought that he was more than he was. And all that he was... What was that, exactly?

Hika grunted, tucking his chin down even as his tail flagged of its own accord. Just a horse, only a horse. He was more than able to hold his own tail up as the stallion's mind locked down, instinct powering through, the throb of his aching nuts begging him to cum. It was pure instinct, however, something that could not possibly be held back, and he neighed out triumphantly as spurt after spurt of thick cum poured into her.

Yet not even his breeding and claiming of her, that lovely mare, could be counted as his, as he belonged to someone, a horse owned. He was owned, claimed, taken, as taken as she was, in a sense, by him, though his mind spun, broken thoughts twisting into the pleasure of mating her. She seemed to rock back against him and he took even more ecstasy from that, his debasement and humiliation splashed across the big screens for all to see, how far the man had fallen, becoming a horse. There was not even any free agency left in Hika as he groaned softly, exposing his anal ring and balls as he leaned over her, not even allowing the mare the grace of supporting his weight while he exposed himself for all to see.

Her sex winked and pulsed around his cock as the tyrant watched on, though the faceless male was just "owner" to him. The owner would look after him, he had to look to the owner. There was nothing more that Hika could do as his mind spun deeper and deeper into helplessness, slipping out of her as he, very slowly, dismounted.

As his horse's cock drooped, half-soft in the aftermath of a deluge of thick cum, the tyrant king smiled tightly, cruelty gleaming in the backs of his eyes. The screens showed a close-up of Hika's shaft, panning over to his backside where his name was written, the stallion snorting and prancing, showing off his male pride. He'd been informed, while Hika was being forced to breed, that the second in command to the rebellion forces, two of them, in fact, had been captured also, plans forming in his mind for them too. Maybe they would soon meet Hika and a similar fate but that was something for him and only him to decide.

The stallion ducked his head and spun, rearing, his cock on show, forgetting his humanity, everything that had once made him who he was. His legs trembled as if with fright but wave after wave of breeding pride coursed through him, feeling only the power of instinct driving him on, the pound of his heart forcing blood around his body, seeming thick in his veins.

Hika? The name swayed and swirled about his head. Who was that? Not a horse, he was sure, no. Not the owner either, the owner that was master too, though not a master he saw often. That was a master to be careful of though, one that he always had to respect. Master and owner were one and the same, the alpha horse, the lead horse, the hand that always laid over him at all times.

Snorting, he pawed at the ground, scooping up clumps of sand. Hika, however, could not hold himself back as he was released after the breeding, his cock dripping with his own seed, half-hard and flopping beneath his stomach. It was an exposure of sorts but not one that he could deal with in the moment, thrumming with power. He wasn't just a man - he was a stallion! A stallion could not care for such things, for a stallion was power incarnate, strength incarnate, everything incarnate!

And if there was one thing he could do to express himself as a stallion, that was to run.

Nobody stopped him as he hurled his body back onto the track, his cock retracting softly and gently into his sheath, though his tail hole was still exposed. Without thinking about it, he charged down the track, his tail hopelessly flagged, exposing everything that he may have wanted to keep private, even his heavily swinging nuts beneath him. They throbbed with the urge to cum all over again but the horse in him was certain that there were more mares yet still to breed - after all, he could smell them. His nostrils flared, sucking in that scent greedily even as his legs pounded the track. That meant that they were there for him, didn't it? Of course, they were always there for him.

His pucker was on show as he galloped, showing off his energy, the thrill of being a stallion simply as he was. A jump that he had never taken before loomed, the brush sticking straight up, and he gathered himself on his quarters, launching his body up and over, airborne for a moment. He snorted heavily on landing, sucking in another breath, each gallop stride bringing another and another, pumping air into his lungs. His veins worked, furiously channelling blood around his body, and he could not have possibly been more alive.

The announcer spoke but Hika, although he heard, did not understand. One lap, two laps... They could not believe how much energy he still had but he was there to show them all what he had to give, his rump emblazoned with a name he did not know, for he was just a horse right there and then. And horses did not know or understand things like that, not one bit. Hika didn't need to know as he forced himself into a breakneck gallop, legs outstretched, taking the jumps, not caring if he pushed through the scraggly brush at the top to clear them.

Speed, after all, flattened his jumps but it was still an outpouring of lust and power and pride in a way that only a stallion like him could understand. There was no Hika-mind left in there as he powered forth, snorting like the beast he was. There were more mares there, yes, he knew that, wanted them, wanted them all. It was his right as a breeding stud to take every last one of them.

Hika bellowed out a neigh. He had come. He would conquer, he would run every last one of them down on the tracks as they came up against him. No one would ever best him.

Up in the stands, a glass of champagne in his hand, the tyrant king smiled.