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Chapter 1: Horse of a Different Color

_First off, I want to thank Korva (see msgotu.com for some of his pictures and work), for providing the use of his character for my very first adult story. Second I am giving a shout out to Gideon, for whom part of this is done in honor of years of his weird, wild, wonderful, and very horsey art.

I apologize if this part seems long-winded and less than interesting... but I wanted to set the stage for what's to come, and so I hope you enjoy the first (and possibly the tamest) part of what I consider exceedingly strange and wonderful tale..._

*****

Removing the baseball cap from his forehead, Ken scrubbed back his mussed dark red hair for a moment and then resettled it, stretching out as he got out of his dad's old truck, and had to grunt a bit as a pair of beefy arms made the old metal groan a bit before finally smacking shut once more, causing the frame to rock. Like many things he'd inherited from his father, it was reliable but getting on in years, and he'd hoped that it lasted until he could get a few paychecks under his belt.

Speaking of his belt, he cinched his thumbs into it, and stared up at the sign for the Verdant Valley Ranch. A new operation that had sprung up in the last couple of years, buying out several old properties and turning into some farmland, some ranchland, and an expanse of vineyards along a low hillside that had been goat country before. It made Ken frown a moment to think about what used to be here when he was younger, and the happier and simpler days that gave way to progress. Going to the back of the truck, he reached in and pulled out a bag, and opened it, looking at his resume, "Well... God... this better be th' right choice, 'cause 'm getting pretty shy on options."

Stuffing it back in, he stepped through the small gate and felt the familiar give of good land under his boots, and followed the tracks of others inside the main ranch-house.

The interview passed in a blur, and the fact that he had a degree as a veterinary assistant helped him finally land a position as a hand in the stables, but the entire interview with the slender and almost nervous-seeming ranch owner, Mister Tillman, made him wonder partly what he was getting into. Regardless, the work was salary, the benefits were impressive, and he was getting a big boost needed to his income. With little choice in his own mind, Ken finally said to the man, "Allright... Ah'll take th' job. Been a while since I done handled a hoss, but s'like anythin' else ya'll learn on a farm... 'Venchally, it'll all come back."

It was there that Tillman dropped the bomb, just after the final paperwork was signed, "We don't just have horses here, Mister Harrison... we're one of the few farms in the county who keep recombinants." There was a note of pride in the man's voice, but it just made Ken pause for a long moment, arching a brow.

Recombinants were genetically engineered workers and laborers, traits taken from animals to give them traits and talents that regular humans could not be provided, unless it was done right from the womb, and even then only the rich had their children genetically altered. While the science had made medicine turn into something nearly magical, there was always a small percentage of the population that rejected the technology.

Like his father... and his father's cancer.

Some considered them slaves, some considered them second-class citizens and to be looked down on. Some parts of the world viewed them as abominations and had them killed on sight. Still others came to revere them, and others even sexualized them. Ken let a little perspiration go down his neck at the thought of it all.

Removing his cap once more, he settled it over his belly before mustering his best and most charming smile, "Sir, I ain't no scholarly type, so 'll be honest... ain't never worked with no Recom a'fore, but I ain't got nuthin 'gainst 'em either. People's people and they's just a new type of people." The smile a bit infectious from him.

Tillman looked suddenly relieved as he replied, "Oh good, Mister Harrison... you must pardon me, but I know you're from the area, and I was given to understand there was a lot of protest over us bringing in several Recombinant equines and dogs."

Ken tacitly made no mention that when those protests were going on, he was still visiting his sick father and selling off most of his family's own ranch at the time all that was going on, instead turning to a more pleasant part of the conversation, "Contract says ah'll be workin' one on one with a steed, huh? Kinda odd for a ranch hand, Sir, if ya'll don't mind mah sayin."

The pair moved out of the main ranch-house and began walking towards some newly-built and rather nicely decorated stables, Tillman's shoes getting rather marred from their squashing in the muck the closer they got, even moving to avoid stepping in a horsepile. Ken didn't really care, and walked right on through. He was a bit too used to the smell of it to really let it bother him, and whatever got on would dry and wash off easily.

As they passed by the outdoor corral though, he was forced to stop as he saw them for the first time. Most stood as tall as a man riding a horse, like the centaurs of Greek myth, save that their upper torsos matched their equine lower bodies, and their heads carried themselves with an angular bluntness that spoke of both their human and their horse heritages. Twin short-bodied gypsy vanners, whose manes made them all seem a bit like sheepdogs trotted by, carrying with them some fence repair materials, and tool-belts... or rather tool saddles sat at their midline for relatively easy reach. The pair of stallions clopped up to where Tillman was, and one spoke, his voice a bit thick and deep despite his being a shorter breed, "Mister Tillman Sir... were going to fix the fence that that fox got under yesterday."

Tillman nodded and then motioned back towards the barn, "Make sure to get a tracker collar on before you and Vasily head out. And remember to hit your panic buttons if anything happens."

The ten foot tall at the real-shoulder equitaur nodded, his brother nodding as well, before both turned to head back in, only to be seen galloping off moments later, each bearing a wide metal collar around their neck with a rather large red display on the side.

Ken could not stop gaping at the sight of this before Tillman broke the spell, "Genesis Corp gives them all a number and letter designation at birth, but we try and turn it into a name. Those two are VS1-L, and YR7-Y. It's meant to allow them to track the batches and birth groups. But we call them Vasily and Yuriy. It helps them and us. Now... you want to meet the one you're working with? He's a real beauty. We just got him in last week... but he's got a defect. So we're hoping we can still put him to work instead of putting him out for shows like we'd intended."

The young man looked up in surprise, and then gulped once before nodding, and centering his cap back on his head, following the other man inside and letting his eyes blink and adjust to the change in lighting. The long rows of stables must have been designed for at least forty to sixty horses, and by the markings, most of them were full. But past the main stables, and to a T-intersection, the place seemed to quiet down a bit, until they reached a row of unused stalls save for one. Looking at the sign, Ken noted it was just the same letter-number designation from before. Except this one was marked KV0-A.

Tillman patted the sign, "A Zero-Alpha... means he was part of an experiment batch that was successful, so pretty soon we'll see the design implementation come out on the market. I paid out the nose for this one, which is why I wanted to put a single person working with him. Up until now we've just let him out with a couple others, but he's not bonded to any one trainer or any of the other Recombinants."

Turning to the smaller man, Ken nodded once, "Ahlright, Mister Tillman. Lemme get changed, and ah'll git in ta meet him. Anythin I should know, Sir?"

Tillman replied, "Yes... he's got a new genetic modification in him to cause regeneration. So he heals fast from injury. We're supposed to monitor him and see if there's any other adverse effects. I'll have the equipment made available for you to train on."

Another deep breath and a frown of thought before Ken finally gave a shrug and a grin, "Well... no time lakh the present, sir."

One of the things that had been done to make Recombinants more appealing and safer for work like this was that their sex drives had been removed for the most part, requiring a special diet change to be given the need or instinct to breed. Since the requirements were specifically only able to be generated in a lab, so it was nothing they could accidentally get into. At least that was what the notification that Ken read off the wall that explained about fair treatment of his new charge. Stripping out of his jeans and boots, he pulled out an older pair of rather dirty and scuffed boots and a pair of overalls from his bag, replacing the white shirt with a wife-beater. The boots were steel-toed, old construction boots he'd used since he was old enough to fit them, thick enough he'd yet to meet the horse or bull that could crush them. Leaving his hat on, he then grabbed a pair of gloves and made his way back down the stables, pleasantly saying hello to others, the plastic card now adorning his chest showing his employment status, looking a bit like an anachronism compared to most walking around in more modern jacket and pants combinations.

Stopping in front of the door to KV0-A's stall, Ken suddenly balked, wondering to himself if he should knock, or if he should just open it up... how polite and human was he supposed to act towards this being he was going to essentially be the partner of... if he was accepted. Screwing up his face into his best smile, the young man pushed the door open, and was immediately faced with the imposing ass of a draft horse. And just in time to see the tail flag up to void himself. Normally, Ken wouldn't give this a second thought, horses always did this in their stalls, but his eyes ended up being caught by the fact that right under that wide donut was a pair of balls the size of competition pumpkins, so plump they almost stuck out the back and would've caught the load that was coming out from the big horse's behind.

He would never admit to himself loudly how much he loved horses, but Ken had always been close to the one's his father had kept, and hated losing them to the point he passed over buyer after buyer until he was sure those who got them would take good care of them. He would also never say before God and his ex-girlfriend that he was gay. He was straight as the day was long in his own eyes, but there was something about watching that equine pucker flex outwards, and pull back in that was... alluring to him. It pouted out, before discharging its duty, but then curled back in and pouted for a long moment before settling, a little trail of fluid after staining the taint and leaving a little wetness on the back of those massive seedsacs.

Hooves the size of decent tires shifted and it snapped him back to reality a moment before Ken looked up, and then up... and then UP at the twelve foot tall Clydesdale equitaur before him, a blonde mane adorning the stallion's bay pelt, and the white splash that sat over his forehead, from where the mane began to where the nose turned a slightly darker brown to match. Deeply blue eyes that no horse could ever muster stared down at the young human, and a deep equine-accented voice rumbled out, "Who are you."

Shaking his head once, Ken cleared his mind of what he just saw, what his mind was trying to process, and the fact that for some reason he was harder than a tank cannon so he could say, "Name's Ken. Ken Harrison. Mister Tillman hired me on ta be yer stableman. Damn but yer a biggun... bigger'n any stallion 've ever seen." Moving in and avoiding the current harvest of horse apples on the ground to walk around the titanic equine form, now seeing the other half of that 'defect'. This stallion was thick around as his own arm, or more so inside that sheathe, maybe large enough he could push a foot in like a boot. Ken gulped again, trying not to stare for too long, instead going back to those blue eyes.

KV0-1 glared back a moment, almost like a petulant child being presented with a nanny, and then crossed his arms over a chest that would have put the greatest bodybuilder out there into drooling shame, so toned and peaked that thick nipples of coal black pointing out and down. He snorted, and then his tail flicked once, almost dismissively, "Go away. I told the owner-man I want to go back home. I don't want to be here." Teeth baring and ears flitting back as he made his statement plain.

While Ken might not know Recombinants, he did know horses well enough to know that whoever he had, this stallion was young, nervous, and away from everything familiar. And while they grow up fast, this one was still very young in mind. Instead of being cowed, the young man replied, "If that's what yall really need, ah'm sure we can arrange somethin. But until then, ya'll mind if I get yer stall cleaned out, and some food in fer yuh?" Once more attempting to apply the calm manner and the polite, charming smile that had gotten the boy so far in life these last twenty odd years.

Those ears went flat, and the eyes showed a naked suspicion that no equine eyes could muster... they were just too dull for it, and those pectorals flexed and shoulders shifted like boulders attempting to settle. In an almost petulant manner, the Atlas of a horseman replied, "Fine, but I want an apple with my meal."

Ken nodded, "Ya'll want an apple, what." Leaving it to trail off.

KV0-A snorted back hard, "I said I want an apple with my food."

The young man grinned, this kind of thing he was used to, "Fine, just as soon as you say please."

"Please.", the huge beast snorted back, his tail twitching in irritation.

"Please whut? Ken replied, waiting and watching, and not backing down.

That huge body shifted a bare but single step forwards as the sculpted upper torso leaned down, putting them both closer to eye level, and the equitaur snorted hard enough to almost push the hat on Ken's head back, "I said please, now give me my apple."

Ken's reply was to reach his hand up, removing the glove, and pressing it to the stallion's nose. At first, the Equitaur seemed to almost panic, and pulled back from the sudden gesture, readying to bite the offending fingers off. But as it settled there, the big beast felt his scraggly clear hairs around his muzzle tickle the palms, the calluses in it touching to his bare flesh... and the stallion suddenly felt calm. This human's scent was good, not with the cleaners they used, and the antiseptics they washed their hands in that made everything smell sharp. It smelled like leather, and warmth, and good things that made the stallion's mind settle some. Neither of them saw, but Ken heard the sloppy slip of that disturbingly large cockshaft come free of its home and thump the head against the floor.

That noise was what brought them both back from that strange and wonderful moment. KV0-A snorted softly then, and as those strangely expressive ears came back up, he mouthed the hand, sliming it with his spit.

Ken laughed and pulled the hand back, so used to it that he didn't even give it another thought as he then nodded once and waited for the great and now somewhat gentled stalliontaur to finally speak. And when he did, the Recombinant replied, "Please, can I have an apple with my meal?"

"Yeah, 'course." Ken replied as he moved out into the main area to get the hose set up, and the tools to get the mess cleaned out and the floor cleaned up, "Get you some hay, some apple, and maybe if yer still feelin polite, 'll throw in a bit of alfalfa."

As the equitaur began to clop out of the stable to let the man work, he passed by, and under the smell of the dingy work clothes, he caught the scent of the male's arousal, making his nose twitch, and his great shaft stir a bit. By the time he was in the hall fully, KV0-A was near to fully erect, watching his new stableman... his new human... cleaning out the mess he'd left, and suddenly feeling a strange sense of being bad... of self-consciousness about it.

"KenHarrison? The stallion asked in his deep voice.

Ken looked up from scooping and dumping that load into a wheelbarrow, "S'just Ken, big guy... what'cha need?"

"Ken... KV0-A said, hesitating a moment as he reached up and ran a hand through that unruly but quite lush mane of his, "Will you give me my name?"

That thought made Ken pause a moment, leaning his own well-toned body on the rake he was using, the equine seeing those muscles flex, and while the young human was not an equitaur, he certainly held himself to the same standards of strength that their designers had desired in the breed. Another snort came out, followed by a deep and rumbling nicker form the greater form.

"Kay-Vee-Zero-Alpha... dang, but there ain't much I c'n chew on outta that... but lemme think a moment.", Ken said as he removed his cap and brushed his hair back through, the hand still carrying the spittle from before, dampening it a bit, "Whatcha think 'o Korva, then?"

The Blonde-maned stallion chewed a moment on nothing as he considered it, and then leaned down and in once more, nose to nose with the human, and those still-stern eyes gave him a look-over again. Nose coming in close, he smelled at the overalls, the old but faint traces of realhorses, and not those like him, the smell of dirt, and sweat, and work in them. Moving lower, he worked towards the slight bulge in the front of the overalls, and then stopped, puzzled and suddenly worried by his own strange behavior. Ears flicking for a few moments, he finally replied in his deep, hurring voice, "Korva is good. It sounds strong... but also kind. Like KenHarrison is also strong and kind."

Another laugh peeled off from the young human as he pushed at the muzzle to get Korva away, "Git along you... Ah told ya ta call me Ken."

As the stallion who now had a named shared a brief and rumbling equine chuckle with the human who now had a friend... neither of them realized that the innocent-seeming saliva, carrying the same regenerative cellular structure as everything else he had, now was soaked into the hair on Ken's head? That his hand was completely dry as the fluids had been soaking into him this whole time...