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I hear their impatient words as I approach the stables.

"Father! Hurry!"

"The morning smells wonderful, Father!"

"I am full of energy, Father! I wish to gallop all day!"

"Patience," I huff, panting as I approach. The day is gorgeous, the sun already baking down on me from an empty cerulean sky. I feel a single drop of sweat upon my neck. "My legs are not as long as yours." I know they only tease, but I do, too. They will wait as long as needed. They know Father is no young colt anymore.

Nickers and stamping hooves greet me when I finally reach the doors. When I tug them open, a horse's face materialises in the space between and licks me, from chin to crown, in one colossal slurp.

"Good morning, Father!" the eager face proclaims.

I smile and wipe the spittle from my eyes. "Good morning, Pasero." I kiss him in return upon his snout, and he nickers and bats his eyes at me. There is a soft jingle from his hindquarters as he shifts about and sets his jewellery in motion.

I push the door wider yet, until a full-grown stallion might pass through, and stand aside as Pasero emerges, sniffing the air and sighing.

"Oh, it is a wonderous day, Father!"

"Aye," I reply. "That it is." We have so many of them here, but each one is a blessing.

There's a frumpy snort from just behind the bay. "Let me see, Pasero!" Heggie complains, his pale golden neck stretching to try to see past his foster brother. "It smells like flowers! Have the daisies finally opened, Father? Let me see, Pasero!"

Pasero remains in the doorway, and I smirk and slap him upon his rump, making him gasp and then turn his head towards me, eyes lidded, nickering seductively.

"Oh, Father, don't tease me so this early in the day..."

I wink at him and slide a hand beneath his belly, grasping the large cock-ring that encircles the base of his member, keeping his entire length free of his sheath and usually at least semi-aroused. "I'm not the tease here, darling."

The stallion giggles and tosses his mane at me, and I smile into his beautiful, deep brown eyes...before yet more voices join in Heggie's call.

"Father! You can play with Pasero later! We wish to go outside!"

"Pasero had you just yesterday, Father! It is my turn!"

"I think my ring has slipped, Father. Won't you check it for me--with your mouth?"

I laugh at them all and call them cads and fops and eager, horny stallions, and turn to push the doors fully open. With cheers and nickers and trumpeting, my adopted herd charges out into the fields, the clamour of their hooves upon the ground almost drowning out the jingle of their jewellery. I stare at them as they stream past, their bodies strong and healthy--no matter what condition I received them in--and their cocks loose and swinging beneath them. It is a sight that never fails to arouse me, and so again today. I touch myself and think of the many holes they will ask me to fill later on. The soft voices and teasing words they will use to make me breed them as they desire. The moans and pants they will gift to me when I give them what they want...

As I, ever willing, do whatever they ask of me.

A final horse--Rehoboam, wine-dark and proud--passes at the last, and I reach out to stroke the smooth mahogany of his coat as he flows past me like a mighty river. He nickers, swishing his tail and mane, and then pauses. He turns to look behind him.

"One needs your love more than I today, Father, I think."

I glance towards the far end of the stables, where one shadow yet stands. One horse has not joined his herdmates in greeting the new day. "Oh..."

"He dreamed poor dreams," the tall horse says simply.

My heart, broken and mended countless times before, breaks again. Rehoboam sees--he always sees--and nuzzles his face along mine, kissing my ear.

"Show him that dreams fade, Father," he murmurs. "We will wait." And he is gone, passing into the sun with his brothers, where the only shadows are friends who dance along with each of them.

I pull the door a little more closed, shutting out the sounds of prancing and play, and make my way towards the shadow. I know who I will find there, for I know all of my sons. Pasiphae, the pink stallion. The gentlest of our family, with the largest heart, and so much love to give...and so much hurt in his past. As I step closer, I can hear the catching breaths and the snorts and feel tears prick my eyes.

I pull an old milking chair closer and flip it around, taking a seat and crossing my arms upon the backrest. My eyeline is below his, but he continues to stare resolutely down at the ground. His ears are angled, and I see wetness upon his cheeks. I do not try to make him look at me but let my gaze rest upon him.

"Hello, my darling," I say.

Pasiphae nickers uncertainly, tail swishing. "Hello, Father," he whispers. I do not command them to call me that; it was Rehoboam--the first--who chose that name for me, and each horse since has taken it up with equal delight. And the joy is shared, for they are all my children, and I love them as if I had sired them one and all.

"Did you rest well, my love?" I ask. I stretch one hand forward to rest against the horse's nose, the tip of the longest gently scratching against his blaze. Pasiphae does not reply, and I do not try to fill the silence. He will speak when he is ready. Until then, I need simply be here. To remind him that the past is the past, and that he is no longer there. He is here, with his brothers and me. Where nobody will ever hurt him again.

"I...did not, Father."

"I am so sorry, my love. Will you tell me about it?"

He nickers, briefly glancing up at me before looking down again. "It...it was about the place...the people...where--"

"Sssshhhh..." I slide my hand down his face to cup his jaw. "It was a dream, my Pasiphae. A trick of the past. The only trick it can perform, for you have left it behind. Nothing there has any true power over you anymore."

The horse nods, but I know he is not convinced. The heart is more foolish than the mind, no matter how we command it to be. I stand and step towards him, reaching my hands out, and he places his head upon them and closes his eyes and sighs.

I clasp his head against my side, letting him feel my warmth, and as I hum a quiet tune with no name, my eyes slide along his body to where his back legs meet. They were not kind to him there; a stallion who would not breed was nothing to them but a worthless mouth to feed, and that displeasure tainted how the task was done. I remember still how wretched he was when he arrived, how twitchy and ashamed. We took a journey, he and I, and walked a hard road, but we arrived in the end. And when we arrived, I made him beautiful again: not for me, but for him.

Oh, I remember so well the day I adorned him. When it was done, and he looked back upon his new self for the first time--upon the marks and the scars and the hollow place that had filled him with unnecessary guilt and self-doubt, now made bright and glorious with gold and jewels--I had seen his chest swell, and his legs straighten. And as his head swung around to look at me with wonder and joy, my tears had already begun to flow. And when he spoke--in a proud voice, a happy voice, a new voice--and he said to me, "Oh, Father! Father, look what you have done for me! Am I not now the most beautiful gelding there ever was?"

Well. Then, I broke and hugged his neck tight, and my tears soaked into his hair. And I murmured back, in between the sobs: "No, Pasiphae. You are the most beautiful stallion there ever was. And you always were."

And so he has remained, ever since. The most perfect flower of our herd.

When I swim back from the shores of memory, another voice has joined in my hum. Rehoboam has come to stand beside us, and his deep chest fills the air with thrum and purpose. I meet his eyes and smile, and he dips his head in my direction.

I lift Pasiphae's head, and the stallion reopens his eyes, smiling upon seeing Rehoboam. I stroke the pink stallion's mane and let his herdmate's hum carry us along as I whisper into his ear things that the darkly dappled stallion before us cannot hear. The worst memories will already be forgotten, but I know what can be done to banish the last dregs. With every word, Pasiphae's heart pumps faster under my hand, and his glances at Rehoboam linger longer until the wine-dark stallion ends his hum on a proud whinny and a laugh.

"What secrets do you two lovebirds exchange without me, then?" he asks, crest high and eyes glittering. He knows full well; I can see the beast already dropped between his legs, golden piercing shining in the low light, diamond cock-ring glittering like a thousand stars. But he knows, too, what I do for Pasiphae, and he knows what to say to delight his brother. "What naughtiness do you encourage in our perfect flower, Father?"

"None that has not already crossed your mind, I am most certain," I respond. But I cannot keep the grin from my face, and when Pasiphae tugs free of my grasp to approach his herdmate, I step back and pull the stool aside to give him space. The pink stallion stops before his larger brother. He lifts his head, studying the Arabian's curious head with a sly smile as Rehoboam twists his head and sniffs him.

And then the pink stallion's head slides forward, mouth parting, and he plants a wet kiss firmly on his herdmate's snout, precisely as I'd suggested he do.

Rehoboam jerks back at first in surprise, but I know the unquenchable fire that burns in that stallion's nether regions. The love he bears for his herdmates may be almost unending, but the lust that roils in his cryptorchid balls for them most definitely is. And so it is: I see his nostrils flare and his upper lip rise--

Moments later, my two darlings are enmeshed. Rehoboam's mouth almost looks like it could swallow Pasiphae whole, so eagerly does he suckle upon his herdmate's lips and tongue, the two of them moaning and grunting with barely-contained passion. My own cock--fully softened while I cared for my pink stallion--hardens rapidly again, and I simply undo my trousers and let them fall. It will only please my horses further to see their Father's nakedness.

Pasiphae's whimpers are beautiful, and as he breaks the kiss with Rehoboam, a line of their fluids seems to keep them joined for a single endless moment before it breaks and falls to the floor, echoing the silver drool already descending from both of their cocks--and now mine. I step forward to stroke Pasiphae's flank as he stares at Rehoboam--at his herd-stallion--with lust and coquettish need.

"Do not leave our flower unattended, Father," rumbles Rehoboam, his long tongue sliding along his lips to take in every taste of Pasiphae. "He will be occupied with me for some time, and you know your duty."

I grin and lay my head upon Pasiphae's flank, feeling the excited tremble and the thundering heartbeat. "My duty? But I have so many. Do you mean...this duty?" I slide one hand beneath the gelding's belly, where his cock has fully thickened, the cock-ring making it especially engorged and veiny. Our precious flower, despite his name, has the biggest cock amongst us: a draft's cock, bigger than my arm. The piercing in its flare could encircle my wrist as a bracelet. That is what I now grasp and tug on, pulling the massive length of my love's flesh towards me, then releasing it to swing free, making Pasiphae grunt and pant with pleasure. I repeat the action, chuckling, until the pants come fast and shallow.

"F--Father," the gelding manages to croak, moments before Rehoboam takes his tongue into his mouth again. I can imagine what he was about to say, for I can see how large his flare has become. Its weight is almost at the floor; the golden cock-ring grazes the tips of the straw. I leave it there, for that is not how he loves most to climax. And I wish him to have only his most-loved things today, to scrub away bad memory.

"Oh: do you mean...this duty?" I press myself against the horse, grinding my hips into his body as I slide one hand along and under his tail to find the perfect hole awaiting it. It flexes open as I touch it, and I grit my teeth as my own cock jerks wildly in anticipation. It is good that my herd loves almost nothing more than their Father's cock, for I do not know how I would resist such invitations otherwise. The shivering of Pasiphae's flesh has reached a point of fever as he feels me probing his soft, sensitive depths even as Rehoboam devours him. He will not last long with both of us working upon him.

And neither will I.

I tug the milking chair around and mount it, resting myself against Pasiphae's powerful rear. The gelding could not possibly flag his tail any harder, and I take it in hand and tug firmly upon it. The pure pink ring before me clenches tight in response, then opens like a morning flower. Some spittle is all the lubrication he shall need; his body is well-versed in pleasuring males. So I need simply place the head of my cock at the entrance, look up to watch my two beloved's deep and passionate kiss, and lean forward to slide silently into heaven.

Pasiphae is no mare. He is better. His hot depths welcome my cock like a long-lost lover, and he clenches upon me with all the strength a draft's muscles can muster. I cry out, the sound echoing around and out of the stables, and in the fields beyond my other children whinny in joy to hear my joy. None of them knows selfishness. Each wants only for their herdmates to be happy. They are all wonderful and perfect...but at this moment, none is more wonderful than my Pasiphae.

His moans are guttural and wet, slurped out around Rehoboam's deep kisses. I do not wait to fuck as fast as I can, for I can hear both horses belly-slapping beneath me, and I wish us to climax as one. My thrusts glide deep within Pasiphae, my piercing catching upon his sensitive points and making his whole body shake and clench. I grip the gelding's thighs and grunt, using all my weight to push as deep as I can each time before pulling out. It will not be long. Not with the thick smells and loud sounds of horse lust filling the stable. I fuck faster, feeling my balls rise, hoping they, too, are close.

"F-Fath..."

Pasiphae's voice falters just as his asshole clenches tighter than it yet has, and he finishes the word with a whinny instead. A signal for Rehoboam to unleash as well, and I. And so we do: Father and sons, our bodies momentarily become as one in a unified, exquisite instance of orgasmic experience. My balls pump madly, emptying my love inside Pasiphae as he and Rehoboam pump their own overwhelming climaxes out upon their bellies, their legs, and the floor beneath. The stable--no stranger to a stallion's issue--is once again reminded of the worthiness of those that dwell within it. Testicles or no; undescended or lacking; all the horses I have gathered here are my stallions. And so it shall ever be.

It is no easy task, dismounting from a milking chair after one has expended an earth-shattering orgasm within a stallion's body. I almost fall, but Pasiphae twists about and catches me upon his flank, head reaching forward to nuzzle mine.

"Thank you, Father."

I kiss him deeply, tasting Rehoboam amongst his sweetness, and smile. "Thank you too, my darling. No more bad memories?"

"No more, Father. Only good ones."

As I hug my flower tightly and feel my heart made whole again, Rehoboam steps away from us and snorts, staring out of the stable doors. "The others have grown frisky while they await us, Father."

"Oh?"

"Indeed. Pasero has mounted Eratosthenes, and Pliny has mounted Pasero in turn. While the others cheer them on, and Heggie gives himself a blowjob." He snorts. "Show-off."

"Oh, my." I sigh and look down, seeing my cock twitch. "We should assist, I feel."

Rehoboam's snort is deeper. "I agree, Father."

I step closer to him, resting one arm over his crest--after fondling his barely-softened cock, for good measure--and wave Pasiphae forward to stand by my other side. Then, with my arms so suspended across the necks of two of my most beautiful children, I look at each of them in turn and smile.

"Let us go, then, and join our family."