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Off To the Races

Epilogue

© Cederwyn Whitefurr

6th April, 2023, - REVISED AND EXPANDED -

All Rights Reserved.

Two years have passed me by, I'm an adult now... and...

My mental thoughts break, as I feel the new life within me tumble then kick painfully. Soon little one, soon...

*

Damn that Grey anyway...

*

My master told me I could have the pick of the stallions, I'd be a fine brood mare, my offspring would be champions – maybe even Grand Champion...

I wish now I'd made another choice...

*

He was seven, already standing at stud, Master asked me one night, who I wanted to be the sire of my firstborn... I had no idea what he meant, now...I do now...

I guess that Grey got his revenge for my prank after all...

*

I was in heat – urgh – the urges drove me mad, one moment I'd be calm and happy, a moment later, my hormones raging like fire within me, my mood swinging like a pendulum between wanting to hide in my stable and cry my heart out – the next I'd bare my teeth and kick anyone who come within range of me...

“Parfait, honey – easy..." My master told me, holding my lunge line at full extension.

“Master," I wept, tears coursing down my cheeks. “I'm so scared..."

He walked over towards me, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on mine. I ground my teeth, lips curling back, ears flat – I couldn't help it – I've never kicked my master...

Right now – I'd have happily pounded him into a blanket...

NO! I scream silently, forcing such horrific thoughts out of my mind. He loves me, cherishes me, would never, ever, hurt me...

He pauses – outside striking range, seeing or sensing, my fragility, my terrible mental state I'm in.

“Stand easy - “ He commands me, his voice calm, but the tone slashing me like a riding crop.

I obey, dropping my head, then tears flowing again, my mood swinging to the opposite spectrum, wanting him to hold me, to take me home...

I want to go home...

“Easy Parfait," He speaks quietly, gently stroking my forehead. “It's alright honey – I promise – it'll all be alright..."

I let him lead me into a round yard, I'm tied with a short lead to the large, well chewed on post in the centre.

Urgh, please, just stop – I try to force myself to focus, to block out the urges, the ache – the unbearable feral instinct that brought me here...

I'm to be covered, my master told me...

I was confused, scared, downright terrified – I still am... I have terrible fears of stallions now – what my master did – all those years ago with his hand and... A stallion is apparently worse – a lot worse...

My ears slap down, my nostrils flare and my lips curl back, I want to bite, to fight, to squeal and kick and...

“Stand!" My master commands.

I stop acting like the spoilt filly I am – his order slashing across my mind. My tail, my beautiful tail! It's bound tight is some strange tape, then I tremble, feeling my master slipping some sort of loop around one hind hoof – then the other, bringing them up to the back of my front shoulders and clipping them to a tight girth-like strap.

I look at him, beseechingly, imploringly, begging for permission to speak, but his hand on my neck stops me. Instinctively, I try to kick out with a hind leg – only to feel it move a few inches, nearly pulled off my hooves!

Master – what have you done? I want to scream in fright.

“Easy girl, it'll be all over soon and..."

I squeal, snap my teeth and then without warning – I urinate in a strong, powerful stream – my taped tail held up and back – I hear someone behind me – my urge to lash out strikes hard – yet again, my hoof barely moves.

“It'll be a few moments..." Comes a strangers voice behind me. “We'll see if she's ovulating yet."

My master holds my head, his hand tightly gripping my lunge rope, my eyes locked on his – going wide, fear surging again through me.

“Easy Parfait..."

I wish I had my masters confidence – truly I do...

*

I smell him..

HIM...

The Grey...

*

He's brought out, marched around the outside of the yards – I can't help it, I feel both pleasure and hatred in equal amounts. He's my nemesis – my rival – I hate him – yet I can not... look away... He struts like a true Grand Champion...

That title should have been mine! My mind screams at me. I was one race away, I could have won the Champion's Cup and...

He's led towards me, I squeal and try to strike out with a hoof, stamping at the ground. He merely snorts, looking at me like I'm some commoner! Some paint or quarter horse!

It's almost too much to bear!

He's led behind me, I hear him back there, nostrils flaring and his hot breath on my rump.

“She's ready - “ Comes that strangers voice. “Expect ovulation in a day or two – might take a few covers – then again - “

A FEW covers? I want nothing more than to kick this Grey's chest in! My anger...suddenly, I feel the opposing emotion, tears sluice down my muzzle as my labia betrays me and winks and glistens, my vagina quivering in expectation – urge to breed rises like a fire deep within me – I NEED HIM NOW...

I gasp, feeling his weight on my rump, then that pain as he moves forwards – thrusting what feels like a flag pole against my rump!

Master, please, please take me home – I'm so scared and...URK!

He's guided into position, then without any fanfare or foreplay – he thrusts himself forwards. I'm pushed forwards by his cruel thrust, feeling my pristine labia stretched beyond anything I've ever felt! He pushes hard, biting down savagely on my neck, up near my mane, his powerful hips thrusting...

Six inches – ten – I feel something push past my aching, hurting labial folds – oh gods, has he...has he...

Yet more suddenly thrusts forwards and I feel his scrotum slap against me. I want to scream, to plead, to promise to do anything – anything – to get this out of me – to get HIM off of me...

He bites down harder – I swear, he'll pull my mane out by the roots! Hips piston forwards and backwards, my body in pain I've never experienced – yet then there's...that moment – pain washes away – pleasure builds and grows – flares like a firework inside of me...

I feel my straining vaginal walls do what nature demands they do – they convulse, push down, strain and quiver, my labia winking – clitoris pressed up into the underside of that thick, powerful, vein filled length that does things my master never could...

A dozen thrusts – more? I can't tell – my body reacts – mare to stallion – maregasm after maregasm, before he grunts and suddenly, inexplicably – there's a gush...

A flood...

Hot, sticky semen explodes deep inside me, my cervix dilating to accept his seed within it – I feel his penis flare inside of me – straining already tortured muscles...

“Good boy - “ I hear the strangers voice. “Nice cover..."

What about me? I want to scream, but my voice is robbed from me, all I can do is stand and endure...

It feels like I'll burst – his seed is not just hot – its almost molten inside of me – sensations, feelings, emotions – all semblance of my intelligence is torn away – ripped to shreds and tatters within my mind...

Without warning, he backs up, then dismounts. I feel sick to my very hooves – instinctively, I squat as best I can, what feels like my water trough worth of my own secretions and his hot, sticky semen squirt as my contractions grip me helplessly...it splatters my rump, my thighs – my hooves...

My masters crying – I don't know if he's happy – or sad...

I cry too...

*

It's been nearly eleven months since I was put to the Grey, I admit, I was scared, beyond scared! I'd never been bred before – well...

I feel the blush creep up from nose to my ears.

I mean, to a stallion! That Grey? He's a wonderful competitor – a terrible one to get covered by... Who do they even call it...

Urgh, I know little one, please – settle?

I lay down, my heavily swollen belly feeling like it'll surely burst! My foal within me, tosses, turns and kicks me six different ways in as many minutes. What sadist thought breeding us was a great idea? It's not what I call a pleasure...

My master is proud, he keeps telling me so, saying how big I'm getting, how my foal will be a champion racer, just like I was, a big, strapping stallion that'll carry my champion ancestors lineage forwards...

Urgh, please little one? Settle?

He tells me its a colt, he believes it, how I wish I could tell him the truth, its not a colt – I know, how do I know? I don't know – I just do. It's a little filly, just like I was – and the way she kicks? She'll be a greater racer than I ever was...

I feel increasing discomfort, I lay back down, my filly within me kicks and tumbles – the first painful contractions are starting...

“MASTER!" I squeal, scared and hurting, twisting my head to bite at my belly, the strident warbling of the foaling alarm shrieking, adding to my own anguished cries.

I hear running footsteps, they rush to my stable, then make me stand – urgh – I don't want to stand! More pain grips me, I feel the filly within turn one more time – my muscles contracting and making me want to scream...

“Good, good girl, that's it!" Our vet walks behind me, holding aside my strapped tail.

Urgh, little one...please!

“Good girl, alright, come on, push...that's it...push now!"

I want to push alright – push this damn vet through the stall wall – contractions are coming faster and faster, then there's the sickening splash that gushes from within me, scaring me worse than I've ever been scared before...what was that?

“Embryonic sack has ruptured, I can see the hooves, alright Parfait, you're doing great honey!"

Great?

I feel like my filly will tear me in half, the contractions mixing with the actual...urgh – the birthing? Nobody explained any of this to me!

How...wait...

“Come on Parfait, you're doing great darling!" My master smiles, stroking my sweat slick forehead as I cry out and strain.

“Almost there Parfait – one good, long...push honey – give it all you got!"

I scream – I can't help myself – with a tremendous exertion, I feel my foal's shoulders slip out, then the rest...it just comes in a sickening slurp and falls to the sawdust behind me.

“Is it..." Master asks, looking past me.

Quickly, the vet grabs handfuls of straw and starts rubbing my little filly, who lays still for a moment – then when the vet picks her up by her hind hooves, my baby girl cries and a gush of embryonic fluids and blood is forced from her lungs and throat. Placing the foal back down, the vet continues rubbing and stroking her with straw – I assume – to stimulate her blood flow.

Tears sliding down my muzzle, my master pulls my head close against his chest and praises me beyond anything he'd ever done when I raced... I hear it...

It...her... my baby filly...

She is placed before me, weak, trembling, all legs wobbling and a confused, bewildered look on her face.

Instinct takes me, I start nuzzling and licking my beloved filly – my whole attention is on her – the pain from the birth, the months of gestation within me, all of it is forgotten – as I feel my primal ancestral instincts drive me to nurse my newborn, to bond with her, and her with me...

I gaze down lovingly at my newborn – my – newborn...

My beloved, tricolour filly...

I have a name for her now...

Welcome to the world my dear foal...

Welcome... Trifle...

END