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The Mare Maid's Journal

By Mantrid Brizon

(06/05/2019)

Walking into his office, Sven locks himself in, so as not to be disturbed. Heading toward his desk, Sven sits in his chair. He leans forward and pulls a chain; a familiar clicking precedes the glow of his brass desk lamp. The vintage, green glass visor radiates as the amber waves wash over his oak desk, stacked with old books and hermetically sealed scrolls. A renowned translator, the middle-aged human sighs with relief as he briefly stares at the ceiling, He takes a moment before preparing for work. After a pause, he snaps into action, slipping on his white, cloth gloves and preparing his laptop.

“Alright! What book shall I work on today? Will it be you?!"

Sven's eyes scan a musty tome.

“Analysis of the Celtic Rites... Nope!"

He sets the book aside. He picks up another.

“Dwarfs, and Other Satanic Creatures... Nope!"

He picks up another, a much smaller and humble looking book. Without a title etched on the cover, he opens the book, pausing as he reads the first page.

“A Maid's Journal... Hm! How often did someone of such low class actually write about their lives?!"

Examining the book, he finds a series of dates scrawled on the cover, though some of the numbers are smudged and unreadable. The first date indicates that it was drafted sometime in the 1130s, A.D. An owner claimed the book in 1258 A.D., keeping it as a family heirloom. The surname of the owner matches an entire lot of rare books, discovered in an estate sale. Putting on his glasses, he carefully turns the page, reading the ancient script. It's penned with a talented hand, not the work of a self-taught maid. Could it be a reprint?

“It has been more than a season since my purchase, and having warmed to my new master, I have revealed some of my past. Though my human master is prejudiced against the Voeldahn, Taras is not a cruel man. Many a mare girl would count their blessings to have been purchased by such a man. As a scribe from Jasrota, I fully expected to be killed for my “sorcery", as the barbarian hordes often call writing. When they did not slay me upon raiding my town, I then expected to be violated, but that did not happen either. Instead, after a fortnight of travel to the lands of the west, locked in a sealed carriage with a dozen other females, I was sold in auction in a human-led kingdom." The first entry reads.

Sven is stunned. Only a paragraph in and it's the most riveting account he's ever seen! So many books he's translates are dull, their topics nonsensical or otherwise comically dated. Others are niche to the point that he often finds himself bored. Not today.

“Indeed, my luck has held. My life since my purchase has been easier than I would have expected of a slave, and master Taras is fair. I was chosen for my “elegance", as he called it. I apparently feel upper class enough to serve him in his household, and I personally believe that I do not appear out of place here. Upon learning of my ability to write, he even gifted me this parchment, quill and ink, agreeing to accommodate me before I ever revealed that I had no kin to write home to for aid. I will have to write sparingly, however, saving my limited resources for significant entries; this tome does not hold many pages, and I'd hate to ask for more. I do not enjoy begging.

To that end, I must make up for the past several months of my servitude. I live in a pleasant and comfortable room inside of the family manor, having taken over the chores of the home once performed by his wife. She was claimed by fever last winter, long before my capture. My days now consist of cooking, cleaning, tending to his simple needs, such as serving, and assisting him in the spice garden of his fenced and gated land. I was, at first, surprised to find that on a property as large as his, he had no other servants or slaves. To my shock, master Taras and his son, young master Davor, work harder than I do.

I actually felt the pain of guilt, cooking a stew in the first days of my arrival and watching master Taras and his fifteen-year-old son tilling a field by themselves. A modest field, maybe, but a field nonetheless. Afterward, they tended to their few animals. Taking it upon myself to at least be at peace with my owners, who did not often speak to me except to give instructions or make requests, I learned a few interesting things. While master Taras is not an unkind man, he is bigoted, and his personal beliefs show in the most passive-aggressive ways. Considering he is within his rights to beat, starve and molest me, I will happily live with his ignorance of my race.

I find that I speak more to the young master than I do his father, but I enjoy his company. Indeed, I do believe that young master Davor finds some interest in me, and he even respects my words and advice. He is certainly not like his father but in a good way. About a fortnight into my stay with the father and son, young master Davor opened up to me. He said that his father did not wish to hire a servant or buy a slave, but that the work of a woman was simply too much for them to handle, when combined with the work of the estate. His appreciation of me was quite touching. Were I not twenty-two and also a Voeldahn, I would find him exceptionally appealing, though I must admit that, for humans, he and his father are both quite handsome."

Sven sits back in his chair, his brow raised. He stares at the end of the entry, marked with the signature of the woman. It reads “Chamukha the Mare"

“Well... You were lucky, indeed. I do hope it lasted." He murmurs.

Checking his translation, he reads the English version on his laptop. Satisfied with his work, he carefully turns the fragile page, eager to read the following entries in the mare Voeldahn's ancient journal. Dated within the same year, a zodiac symbol signifies the following month.

“I spoke with young master Davor today. While cooking dinner, I had overheard him speaking with master Taras about an arrangement. Curious, I could not help but confront the boy. To my shock, he informed me that he is legally a man, in this kingdom at least. His father urged him to take a wife, even offering to find him a wife of similar standing. Young master Davor is reluctant; he wishes to choose his own bride. I respect his decision, but I do not know how he plans to accomplish it. He rarely leaves the estate, and I know for certain that he does not visit the brothels; I doubt he has even made love before. Whenever he finds a bride, though, he will make her very happy."

Sven chuckles as he translates the entry. Even he is surprised that a virile young man didn't spend his teen years planting his seed in every available garden. Checking his work, he continues reading. The next entry's zodiac is three months later; Chamukha has been a slave for nearly three seasons.

“At first, I was elated to have a master who did not abuse me, who gives me food, quality clothing and a bed that is surprisingly soft. Even my chores have become rather enjoyable, and every day is peaceful. However, I am suffering another ailment, a pain that I have never experienced... Before my capture, I enjoyed the men of my town, and as a scribe, my status and wealth gave me pick of the litter. Now? Now, I have not been touched in so long, that were I pregnant, I could have already birthed a child. I did want several, before my time was up, and I would like to have the life left to enjoy them for at least a few years. It is becoming difficult to even be around master Taras; lately, all I can think about is his manhood."

Sven pauses.

“Oh, my..."

Clearing his throat, the scholarly translator looks at his laptop, unsure of his work's viability. Technically, it is a historical document and it should be preserved. Who is he to judge the contents? Turning back to the book, he gulps, preparing himself as he continues reading the entry, which trails onto the next page.

“It began when I felt the urge. My loins burned with a fire that only the seed of a man has ever put out. I yearned for a strong hand to caress the brown fur of my body, to fondle my large breasts, to grab my hair and pull as he partook of my splendor. What I would not do to feel a man's lips over mine, his tongue fighting for control over my mouth or tasting the brown flesh of my nipples as I lay on my back, letting him ravage me."

Sven sets the book down, sitting back in his chair. Clearing his throat yet again, he can feel himself growing “interested". Slowly leaning forward, he resumes reading.

“It has only been made worse after an incident almost a fortnight ago. Stepping backward, with a large pot of water for boiling held in my hands, I bumped into master Taras as he passed me in the kitchen. Apologizing, I turned and felt it; his exceptional manhood, on par with the stallions of my old kingdom, rubbed against the entirety of my buttocks... I loved it. I have tried to see or feel it again many times. I cannot find a way to be in a room with him while he is undressed, and I have thought of everything. I even pour his bathwater, but he does not like me being with him when he washes... How does he scrub his back?

I took the drastic step of letting him see my backside as I changed clothes, and on several occasions, I found the opportunity to press my ample breasts into his face. I had not met a man yet who did not worship my breasts, until Taras. I swear, I felt his nose brush the center of my chest the second time I did it, but I did not see movement in that impressive bulge of his. I do not enjoy resorting to my hands for pleasure; I am not a girl anymore. I may have to be more forthright. I do not know what he will do; perhaps he will feel poorly and tend to my needs? I may have to emphasize how utterly maddening it is to feel such a need and go without. A cruel and unusual punishment, indeed."

Flipping the page, Sven reads on, his temperature rising and his heart thumping, along with several other things.

“I have never been so humiliated. Speaking privately with master Taras, I informed him of my condition, and he seemed intrigued. The ignorant fool had the nerve to compare it to a common animal in heat; Voeldahn are not animals! We do not have cycles; any human woman so unattended would be just as frustrated as I! I asked him for reprieve but he refused. I have never seen a man turn down free sex before, especially not from his own property. I pleaded, and then I begged. I hate begging. He never changed his mind. Why is he so hostile to my affections?

It is certainly not as unnatural as he seems to think it is. I have known Voeldahn women of many breeds bear the children of humans, and at least one human woman who married a man from my town. Furthermore, I guarantee that his human friends who speak to the “inferiority" of Voeldahn buy a feline or bunny whore at night, to do what their wives will not. He actually suggested I consider breeding with his stallion, as if I was just a beast. It would have hurt less if it was a cruel remark, but he sincerely meant it. Is he so dense?! I almost wish I had been sold to a crueler man; at least then I would probably have a child by now. I may have even be hoping for a night without sex."

Sven sits back, resting a hand over his groin and adjusting himself. His breath shakes as he sighs.

“That poor, poor woman! ... She wouldn't have had that problem if she were my maid." He murmurs.

Sven turns the page.

“The past few days have been so interesting! After master Taras so thoroughly humiliated me, he was eager to sweep the whole incident beneath the rug. He actually apologized to me for upsetting me, but he is still clearly revolted by the idea of having sex with me. I could not have believed a prejudice so nonsensical would be so overwhelmingly powerful. I know master Taras has no lover either, and he has gone without for longer than I, yet he turns down my offer! He also does not patron the brothels, as he allows me to tend to the estate's finances, and I am very thorough.

However, after a few days of quietly grumbling through my chores, I noticed something. Young master Davor was watching me! I do not mean that his eyes followed me to make sure he did not block my path; he gleefully partook in my femininity as I set the dinner table! At first, I could not believe it. I furled my brow and moved, but his eyes, locked to my bosom, followed along. When I turned my back, his vision shifted to my buttocks and swaying tail. It was surprisingly flattering; I have not had the attention of any male in so long, I was beginning to forget what it felt like to have one inside of me.

Hearing his father approaching, the young master grew nervous and shifted his gaze toward the table. I do not think that he even realized that I saw him staring. When master Taras entered and claimed his seat, I did my best to hide my anger. I poured his soup and wine, served him the bread I had baked and the lamb I had cooked, and bowed my head. He was very gentle in his thanks. Serving young master Davor, I could not help but test him further. I turned my body gently toward him, pressing the mounds of my flesh together with my arms as I poured his soup.

He did not notice when I filled the bowl almost to overflowing. I served his wine, placed his bread and lamb, and all the while, he stared at my chest or butt. Walking around him, I looked over, noticing the bulge in his trousers. Thought it was a passing glance, I believe he takes after his father. I admit to my thoughts, but I swiftly discounted them. At fifteen years of age, he is considered a man, but he is seven years younger than I, and has never experienced a woman by his own admission. Any attempts on young master Davor's sensibilities would most likely end in a similarly humiliating rejection... Or so I thought."

Sven turns the page. He doesn't even both to translate anymore, too wrapped up in the sordid tome.

“After dinner, when the sun had set and all went to bed, I could not help myself. I took my hand and pleasured myself, vigorously. I rubbed my little flesh and inserted a finger, and then another. Imagining that I was on my back, with young master Davor looming over me, I used a third finger. It was quite a feat to stretch my womanhood so, but considering what I felt in Taras's trousers on that fateful day, if his son is even half the man his father is, three fingers is not enough. I pushed deeply into my flesh, my nightgown pulled up and exposing my entire lower half. That is when it happened."

“Chamukha? Are you okay?" The young master called out. Opening my eyes, I looked down, seeing him entering the doorway, and illuminated by a candle. He looked shocked and embarrassed as his eyes met with my wet, trembling loins... But he was not revolted. I left my fingers inside of me, and told him that I was sorry, but I could not stop. Young master Davor nearly fell over himself trying to back out of the room and shut my door. Thinking back, he could have burned the entire estate to the ground, but thankfully, we lived for the next day. That was the day I would confront him.

While his father rode into town to take care of a financial matter, I found the young master. Upon seeing me, his eyes swiftly turned toward my womanhood, only to close tightly at the revelation of what he had just done. Making strong eye contact, he stammered through a simple greeting. I wished him good morning and stepped closer. I told him that I was sorry he had to see what he saw, acting as though it was some awful thing I had shown him. He accepted my apology through heavy breaths. I told him of my condition, and how difficult it has been. I let him know that his father rejected me and I saw the spark.

Jealousy erupted within him, which was exactly what I wanted. I asked him not to tell his father that I was weak and unable to control my urges, reminding him over and over how easily I could fall at any moment, all while pressing my chest against his and looking down at the shivering human. For a moment, I felt as though I was molesting the boy... Until he touched me. It was a soft touch, a hand resting on my hip and a little too far back. As his fingers inched toward my butt, I decided he needed a better display. It was not hard, as I was already struggling to control myself.

I rested a hand on his groin, giving his manhood a squeeze. We shared a kiss, which I initiated. I had never kissed a human before; most humans, and the Voeldahn breeds that do not have hooves, are so much shorter than my own breed. It was strange to bend over so far for a man, but I was rewarded by the young master's surprising talent. Perhaps he had done that much before? The way he slipped his tongue into my mouth suggested a fondness for it. Throughout my touch and our kiss, he trembled like a leaf in a spring breeze. If it was not so adorable, it would have been upsetting.

I could not help myself, and I shoved my hand into his trousers. Upon touching his hot flesh, I gasped and pulled my hand away. He saw my face and thought I was upset, but I quickly corrected him. Dropping to my knees and lowering his garment revealed a most amazing sight. I had heard of the exotic shape of human's penises, but never before beheld one. The praise I gave him for his shape, smell, and the sheer size of it, which truly rivaled a stallion's, all but erased his fears. Young master Davor is truly quite endowed, which I am certain he inherited from his father. Such a lucky young man.

I stroked him until he was as hard as a rock, then I licked him. My tongue traveled from his large balls, bigger than the eggs of the hens, and along his entire shaft. He tasted lovely. Having gone this far, I could not resist. Opening wide, I was intent to feel something filled with his manhood, even if it was just my mouth. I actually struggled to envelope his girth with my mouth! After I was done, my jaw felt a little sore! I worked him with a vigor I have not felt since my first lover, when I was about his age. So eager was I to please that boy, but even he did not forsee what I did next.

Opening my dress and pushing it down my body, toward my waist, I took my breasts and placed his masculine flesh between them. Young master Davor was now the largest man I had between them. His pale skin looked so nice against my soft, brown fur. It reminded me of stained wood lying on the sands of the Nile river. I rubbed him with my breasts with such vigor, my mouth moving up and down his throbbing manhood. Often, I would stop to swirl my tongue around his tip, as if I were polishing a decoration. Young master Davor was quick to tell me how wonderful I was at “polishing", and I could not help but giggle at his banter during our carnal pleasure.

For a young man his age, he is really quite charming! I cannot help but enjoy him. Taking a hand and resting it between my thighs, I pleasured myself as I also pleasured Davor, eager to see what he had to offer. Chicken's eggs are large and have much in them, and I wondered if he would be the same. It was not long before I learned the truth. With a mighty roar, Davor grabbed my head, his fingers clinging to my long, ashen hair as he released a torrential flood. I nearly choked, which he felt, swiftly releasing me and allowing me to pull away. Cupping my hands together, I spit out the mouthful he had given me, which filled and even spilled over my palms.

I could not believe he had so much! I lapped up every drop like a cat, which only made him more pleased. After I had cleaned my hands with my tongue, I turned my eyes up to him. I stared into his jade eyes, while he stared back into my emerald eyes, and we had a connection. We both knew this would happen again, without having to say it. Truthfully, it was all I could do to keep myself from rising to my hooves, bending over, gripping his manhood and pushing him into my hungry loins. He is lucky I had the willpower to hold out; we both are. It would have continued, had it not been for his father suddenly returning. Any longer, and master Taras would have walked in on quite a carnal sight, and I doubt either of us would have been able to stop."

Sven stops reading, his heart pounding as he reads the account. The sweat beads on his brow, which he nearly wipes away with the cloth glove. Catching himself, he is quick to use a nearby rag before turning on a small desk fan. Taking a deep breath, he prepares for the remainder of the short tome, turning the page.

“It has been several nights since my last entry. Sadly, I have not been able to enjoy young master Davor the way I would have preferred. He is truly a skittish young man, with a healthy fear of his father. From what he as told me, he was a stern disciplinarian, until the day his mother died, and though he has not raised a hand to him since, Davor still fears Taras and what could happen if he disobeys. It is for this reason that, though I am the property of his father, and by extension fair game to his son, he and I have decided to keep this a secret. It is difficult though. A mare can only swallow her human's seed for so long before she would rather he plant it in her garden.

The night before last, I snuck into his room like a thief; even I did not hear my hooves clopping on the wooden floorboards. I hoped to sit upon his magnificent throne, so to speak, but as I massaged him with my hands and licked his tip, his father stirred in his room, which is beside Davor's. After releasing his considerable load down my throat, I was quick to leave him, where I reluctantly took care of myself with my own hands... Again. Last night was far better. Taras slept soundly, so before I could rise, the young master visited me. I was so excited to see him, and at the end of the hall, I was sure we could be quiet enough.

The young master was so eager as I disrobed, touching every inch of my body. I stood before him, looking down at him as he looked up at me. I felt the strike of his tip against my nether lips, and I could not help but giggle. Even as large as he is, his penis rising above his own belly button, his legs are not tall enough for him to insert himself when we stand before each other. I was ready to bend over and accept the young master, but ever the sweetheart, he wanted to repay me first and make it last. Lying beside me in my bed, we kissed, and he was certain to feel everything.

Davor kissed my lips and we tasted each other's tongues. He then kissed my neck, working his way down until he placed his mouth on my breasts. He vigorously sucked on my nipples, his tongue swirling and his hand squeezing. For a moment, I wondered if he thought he would find milk, but I have never borne a child, nor allowed a pregnancy; I used every herbal remedy at my disposal. As he worked my upper half, he was not quick to forget the rest of me. A hand slid down my form and caressed my nether lips. He rubbed me so softly, before abruptly slipping a finger inside.

One became two, and two became three. Though his hands are smaller than mine, they felt just as large inside of my body. I do not understand how, but our passion was such that within mere moments of him feeling my insides, my loins clamped down on him. Such was the tension that I feared I had trapped his hand. I had to bite down on my own nightgown which I had taken from the bed post, screaming into it as I felt a powerful wave of pleasure. I was as ready as I would ever be, and Davor asked me if I wished to continue. Such a silly question to ask. Unable to speak, I nodded.

He climbed over me, but before he brought his impressive key near my lock, we heard a horrifying sound. Master Taras rose from his bed during the night, using a candle to walk to the indoor privy. On his way, he must have seen Davor's opened door, calling out to his son. Hiding my nude body beneath my sheets, Davor slipped underneath my bed. No sooner than he hid, master Taras checked my room. He backed away when he thought I was sleeping, and a trembling Davor was eager to flee. He kissed me tenderly and apologized, but I understood; I coached him on a lie about struggling to sleep, something I had seen others suffer in my old town.

Accepting my advice, as he often does, young master Davor crept toward his room. I could hear him from my bed as the young man startled his father on purpose, acting as though he was taking a walk through the house. Wishing his son goodnight, master Taras returned to his bed, while Davor did the same. I shivered throughout the night from the fear of being caught. We must be more careful."

Sven breathes a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, you do! Wait for the right moment, girl!"

Turning the page once more, he nears the end of the journal. His eyes scan the parchment, reading Chamukha's account. Visualizing her story, with the aid of her extraordinarily detailed and graphic entry, Sven is transported back into time.

“Must you go, father? This is an awful lot of work to do by myself!" Davor says with a worried look.

“You will be fine, son. You are a strong man. Besides, I should be back by supper tomorrow, and with any luck, I will be laden with gold."

“That would be nice."

“Building your inheritance, one deal at a time!" Taras laughs.

“Good! I will have something to squander!" Davor chirps.

“Get to work, son. Take care."

“You too, father!"

Davor waves as his father leaves on horseback, riding for a town a half day's ride from the estate. He dismounts, closes the gate, and rides into the horizon. Fearful of a sudden return, something he'd done in the past, Davor tends the field for nearly an hour. His body shakes with anticipation as he works. Soon, he's satisfied that his father has truly gone and has not forgotten anything. He isn't sure if Chamukha is watching him from the manor or not, and so he resists the urge to drop his tools and race toward the home. He walks casually as he returns the tools to a shed, before washing his hands in the horse trough.

Standing at the window, Chamukha watches him intently. Taras left some time ago, and yet he doesn't dash for her; Davor acts as though he hasn't a care in the world. Watching him wash his hands in the horse trough, the mare woman only desires him more. Walking for the house, she cannot contain herself. Her hooves clop as she darts outside, standing on the wooden porch as he waves so casually to her.

“Well?! Did he leave?!" Chamukha exuberantly asks.

“Yes."

“Then what are you waiting for?!"

“I am taking my time, miss Chamukha. Do not rush the master of the house." He quips.

“Well, in that case, master, I have some important business you need to attend to."

“Do you, now?" He grins.

“Oh, yes." Chamukha nods. “It is about my ailment. I do not seem to be getting any better." She pouts.

“Well, let us see what we can do about that." He coos.

Standing before her, he reaches up a hand, caressing her cheek. Leaning in, she nuzzles him with her snout for all of a second before swiftly kissing the young master. Their tongues caress as they share their affection on the porch. Taking hold of his hand, Chamukha leads him into the house, pulling him gently down the hall of bedrooms. Pressing a hand to her door, she feels a tug as Davor directs her to follow him instead. Her lips curl into a wide grin when he brings her into his own bedroom. No sooner than she steps inside, Davor pushes her against the wall, fondling her large, DD-cup breasts and kissing her neck.

“Oooh, young master... You are so... Forceful." She coos, stroking his head.

Davor grips her plump buttocks with both hands, his member stiffening in his trousers. Spinning them both around, he looks up as she leans her head forward. They share impassioned kisses as her hooves slide and thump across the floorboards, stopping only when her shins bump his bedframe. Letting go of her body, he stands proudly as she falls back, landing with a thump on her butt. Sitting atop his mattress, he unbuttons his shirt and pushes down his trousers, stepping out of his boots. It's all the instruction she needs. The mare woman quickly lifts the heavy flesh that hangs betwixt his legs, giving him a sniff and then a long, drawn out lick.

“Mmm... Why must you tease me, so?" He asks.

“Because I can." She smiles innocently.

Reaching out, he takes hold of her dress, opening it and revealing her large globes. Taking her bottom jaw in his hand, he opens her mouth for her and inserts his manhood, placing another hand at the back of her head and guiding her motions. Chamukha teases him in this fashion for only so long, before her own urges take over; she wants him just as much, if not more, than he wants her. His hands slip away from her head, reaching down for her breasts, which he gleefully fondles as she pleasures him with her mouth and tongue. Up and down, she sways her head, eager to enjoy him in every conceivable way.

Gasping as he feels the tension building, Davor does not want to finish in her mouth, as he had done several times previously. Today and tonight must be special. As Chamukha brings him to his peak, her hand trying to purposefully milk his testicles, he suddenly stops her. She turns her emerald eyes up toward him, the ashen haired, brown furred mare Voeldahn looking curiously at her young lover.

“That place is not good enough, today." He says.

“My mouth?!" She gasps in offense.

“Today, it belongs somewhere else."

Chamukha is confused only until he rests a hand gently over her belly, guiding her to lie back. She grins from cheek to cheek at the thought of being filled by his seed, and gleefully bares her teeth at the prospect of his seed being properly planted. She refuses his command to lie back, only so that she can stand to remove her dress properly. As she does so, Davor pulls his trousers from his ankles. In moments, the odd couple stand as naked as the day they were born. Now ready for him, the mare woman lies back atop his bed, her hooves reaching beyond the footboard of the smaller furniture.

Lying beside her, he kisses her with passion, necks her with tenderness, and both licks and sucks her nipples with vigor, all the while his fingers massage her clitoris. Before Chamukha knows what's happened, Davor has pulled away and spreads her legs. However, instead of diving right in, as she expected, he takes his time. The fact that he can wait at all drives her up the walls, but it's made worse by what he does next. Leaning in, he sniffs her loins, sighing with relief. He licks her clitoris, swirling his tongue above her opening as he simultaneously stuffs a few fingers in.

She wriggles atop the bed, crying out loudly from the pleasure. A hand reaches down, gripping the teen's head as he works her body, keeping him in place. Somehow, he pulls his head away, but only to move even lower. With his arms sliding beneath her legs, she bends her knees and turns her head down, watching as her young master, the son of her owner, inserts his tongue into her vaginal canal. She gasps and groans, clawing at the bedsheets with her fingernails as he brings her pleasure that she hasn't felt in years. In fact, this is the first time he's ever done this for her, and he is at least as good as a stallion she'd had years earlier.

“Mmm... Why must you tease me, so?" She asks.

“Because I can." He smiles innocently up at her.

He returns to his work, and she cannot help but tell him what fine work it is, singing his praises with loud, gasping breaths. Taking his mouth away, he returns it to her clitoris and continues to fondle her with his fingers. The mare does not last long. Her vaginal canal clamps down tightly as she orgasms, coating his fingers with a thick, white cream. Rising from the bed, Davor moves yet again, but this is entirely new. Chamukha flushes as he smears her cream all over the tip and upper shaft of his organ, standing by her head at the side of the bed. Before she can lean over to suck on his member, which she thought he wanted, he starts to climb atop the bed.

“What are you doing?" She asks.

“I would like to try something new."

Climbing carefully over her, he places his member in her face, his head near her loins. Though awkward at first, Chamukha and Davor are pleased by the fact that both can feel each other's mouths on their genitals at the same time. Chamukha flushes upon tasting her own fluids on his manhood. She wonders if it's strange that she likes the way it tastes. After taking some time to engage in this foreplay, Davor tires of it. He's ready to become a man, while Chamukha has been ready to make him one for days. Climbing off of her, he walks on his knees around her body and between her legs.

Taking his shaft into his own hands, he stares down at the mare's perfect, taut flesh. Her brown nether lips are glistening with her lubricating juices. Chamukha watches him as he slowly leans forward, noting the look on his face. His arm extends, brushing her side as he holds himself up, and she feels it tremoring. As his light skin presses against her fur covered breasts, followed shortly by his belly against hers, she can feel him shivering like a leaf.

“Do not worry, Davor."

“I-I... I am not worried. I just... You are the first to..." He stammers.

“I am honored to be your first." She coos, kissing him passionately. “Take your time."

Nodding in response, Davor takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He takes another, and then a third, but as he exhales, Chamukha gasps. Her eyes bulge and she grips his hips tightly, her legs pulling in and squeezing him as he penetrates her.

“RRRRRHHH!!!" He growls.

“AAAAHHHHH!!!!!" She screams.

“Nnggf! ... Oh, Lord! ... I never knew, hhf, anything, hhf, could feel so, hhf, tight and, hhf, hot." He says through his pleasured panting.

“Ahhhmmmmnnnnnff..." She moans.

She turns her head down, already physically drained from simply feeling his initial penetration. It's been not quite a year since her last sexual encounter, and to her recollection, she's never had one so enjoyable; he hasn't even started. Peering between her mountainous orbs and her spread legs, she gazes upon the splendorous sight of Davor's manhood stuffing itself into her loins. However, only the tip and a portion of his shaft stretches her flesh, but there is at least two-thirds more shaft to go; she already feels full! with a gentle push, he begins to drive himself deeper and deep into her body.

Chamukha's back arches and her breasts jiggle, her hands taking hold of his upper arms as he holds himself up. He growls and groans as he genuinely struggles against her clasping vaginal canal. The pressure is incredible, but he enjoys it. Her loins make little slushing sounds as he dives deeper, leaning against her and necking her. Her nails rake the flesh of his back, her body shaking. With more than half of his manhood inserted, he pulls back and allows her to rest, only to roughly drive his girthy rod back into her aching loins. The mare woman screams, as he gives her a few hard thrusts, readying for the real work.

She's now thankful that they didn't have sex that night when Taras nearly caught them. Even had he not awoken to relieve himself in the privy, she is wholly unable to control her volume. Her screams, echoing throughout the manor, would've easily awoken her owner and master, and even she knows that Taras's polite bigotry would take some form of action. Perhaps he would sell her, or perhaps abuse her? Perhaps he'd disown his son and withhold his inheritance? Whatever he'd do, she is thankful that they've waited. Chamukha licks Davor's neck and cheek and kisses him roughly, forcing her tongue into his mouth.

He responds with swift, hard thrusts, plowing his manhood into her taut flesh and making her tremble like a leaf in a spring breeze. It isn't long before her pleasure builds; perhaps only several minutes. As she feels his heavy balls brushing against her tight butt, she knows that he's given her nearly every inch. The pressure inside of her vagina is indescribable, but not in a painful way. The pleasure she feels from the fullness makes her eyes roll back in her head. Suddenly, his testicles push against her ass and his pelvis grinds against hers. He's fed her little pussy every last millimeter of his big cock, and with one shift of his hips, his flesh rubs her clitoris.

The endorphins flood her brain as she orgasms, cumming hard on the human's large phallus. A familiar, white cream smears all over his cock and balls as he rocks his hips, never letting her forget what brought her to this point. Her legs convulse, her back arches violently, and she clings to him as if she were sinking in water, about to drown. The chemically induced euphoria bonds her heart to the younger human, her already considerable fondness for the man growing exponentially. It's like a revelation from heaven, and her heart only knows what her body feels; the joy and comfort he brings her.

In moments, she cannot even recall targeting her young master for a sexual release; to her, it's now the realization of their enduring love. His passionate kisses and tender, caressing hands only cement this in her mind, and the pair enjoy a wave of affection that neither ever knew possible. Eager to carry on, Davor sways his hips, moving his penis into and out of Chamukha's convulsing loins. With each sway, he sheaths himself completely within her womanhood, rocking his hips and grinding his flesh against hers. It drives her wild, and does wonders for him, too. In only minutes, he's brought her to yet another climax.

After letting her take the time to breathe, Davor instructs his mare maid to roll onto her belly. She gleefully obeys, though her body is shaky. She lifts her ashen tail, moving it to the side and revealing her loins as she lifts her buttocks up with her knees. Driving into her, Davor kneels behind her, her large, powerful legs running between his. She cannot believe such a large member could squeeze into such a small space, stretching her vaginal canal like she's never felt it before. Meanwhile, Davor cannot believe that his little mare's pussy could become any tighter, but it has.

In and out, over and over, he thrusts with considerable speed and vigor. Clawing at the bedsheets, Chamukha buries her face into his pillow and uses it to mask her screaming; she's beginning to annoy herself, and worries that he isn't pleased with it either. He smacks her furry buttocks as he drives into and out of her loins, drawing her womanhood out of and then deeper inside into her body with each motion. Her legs tremble and her arms squeeze the pillow. She's nearly ready to orgasm yet again. She wonders if he is ever going to finish with her, but soon he answers her question.

Squeezing her hips tightly with both hands, his breathing grows heavier and his grunts louder. Slap, slap, slap, as his scrotum and full balls strike her clitoris.

“NNGG! I'm, nngf, about, nngf, to... NNGGGFFH!"

“Ahh! Ahh! Do it! Ahh-do it, master!" She squeals.

“NNNGGGRRAAA!" He roars.

“AAAGGHHH!!!"

Throwing her head back, her emerald eyes roll into her skull as Davor releases his seed. Jet after powerful, turbulent jet, floods her uterus with his thick, white ooze, trigger her most powerful orgasm to date. Saved up throughout the past few days, he gives her every last drop of a load as big, if not bigger, than the one she nearly choked on when she gave him oral sex for the first time. The sticky, fertile seed flows through her fallopian tubes, racing for her equally fertile eggs. The excess, of which there is much, glues itself to her uterine walls, all but ensuring the pair will see the fruits of their union.

His hands grip her shoulders, softly and lovingly massaging her as he gently pulls her back. Chamukha rests her head on his pillow as he pushes against her, as if reminding her that he's impregnating her. The young man leans forward, resting his sweaty chest against the matted fur of his lover's back, taking a hand and giving her plump butt a nice, hard smack.

“This was amazing." Chamukha sighs with relief.

“This was worth the wait." Davor retorts, kissing her cheek.

“This... Will be hard to explain to your father." She laughs.

Seeing him smiling from the corner of her eye, she turns her head as he kisses her cheek again. Straightening his body, he pulls his manhood from her loins. Her genitals sloshes from her juices, and the few ounces of semen that he's injected into her, causing her to flush beneath her rich, brown fur. Flopping over and onto her side, she is pleasantly surprised when Davor, whom she worried was only interested in sex, lay beside her, giving her a warm, loving embrace. He kisses her shoulder and rests his nose near the nape of her neck, nuzzling her softly.

“I wish I could just marry you." Davor suddenly remarks.

“What?!" Chamukha gasps.

“You are everything I want in a wife, and I already lo..." He pauses.

Glancing over her shoulder, she stares into his eyes. The mare woman can hear him audibly gulp, his orbs glossy with tears.

“I love you, Chamukha... I have loved you for some time now. I never had the courage to tell you until now. I do not want another woman; I have not wanted anyone else since I met you."

“Davor..."

“Please." He rests a finger over her lips. “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I do not care about the estate or my inheritance. I just want to be with you."

Chamukha's eyes water, a joyful tear escaping her eye. Rolling over in bed, she wraps her arms around her human lover, nuzzling and kissing him.

“I love you too. I cannot remember ever being so connected to a man. You are everything that I have ever wanted in a husband. I do not care about wealth, or your inheritance either, Davor; I just want to be with you."

“It truly does not matter to you?"

“No." Chamukha shakes her head. “We can live in a cave; you, me, and all of our many, many children."

“Many children?" He asks.

“I will never lie to you, Davor... I would like more than I have fingers and hooves. We can start a whole new tribe." She answers.

“I will never lie to you either... That sounds heavenly." He remarks.

Kissing his head, the pair share a laugh, brought on by the relief in their mutual confessions. Worn out from their pleasure and emotionally drained, the lovers embrace each other and fall asleep, awakening during the night only to eat supper and make love yet again. They enjoy pretending as though they are the only two in the world, but both know that when Taras returns, he will eventually find out. Returning to the present, Sven reads the last sentence of the page, feeling the fear of the unknown future that Chamukha expresses. Eagerly turning to the last page over, he reads the final entries in the journal, the next dated the same month as the last few.

“Before master Taras returned, Davor and I agreed to keep our love a secret for as long as we could. Davor is working hard and will put away money for us. We spend what time in private that we can, and Master Taras does not seem to notice that I am no longer suffering my ailment. Perhaps that pig thinks I found the time to visit his stallion? If only he knew!"

Sven turns his eyes toward the final paragraphs. The entry is dated three months after the previous.

“We had several months, but it has finally come to an end, or at least this book has. I took ill in the mornings... We knew this was inevitable." The journal reads.

“Oh no..." Sven sighs.

“When Taras realized that I must, in fact, be pregnant, even he was not ignorant enough to believe I had conceived with his horse. Davor made me proud; he claimed me in front of his father, who was less than pleased. Every threat we feared, he made. Davor cast off his inheritance, to Taras's horror, then dismissed his last name, and as if that was not enough, he claimed my unborn child and told his father he had chosen his wife... Me. We thought Taras was going to fall over dead. After a time, he quickly threatened to sell me, but Davor warned him that he would not live to make it to his horse if he intended to do such a thing.

Davor convinced his father to sign me over to him, before immediately granting me freedom and asking for my hand. I accepted. I write this from the back of a wagon, where I will sleep beside my new husband, whom I married yesterday. We journey to a new land, to make a home for us and our family. He has saved more than enough, plus extra, which he claimed from his father for his rudeness. How lucky I am to have found such a man... Perhaps I will give this book to my eldest daughter? I'm sure we will have many."

A final note is scrawled at the bottom. There is no date.

“To my twin daughters, Danika and Emika. Learn to share, girls! Love, Chamukha and Davor."

Sven sets the book aside, wiping his eye with a finger. The middle-aged human ponders the journal, and though much of the subject matter may be graphic, and the passion may be detailed, it's a love that should be shared. Emotionally drained from the mental journey, he saves his work and deactivates his laptop, intent on finishing some other time. For now, he would rather go home, to see his wife, Mila. Carefully closing the book and setting it aside, he pauses.

“I wonder... Do you two have any descendants still alive? Would they even appreciate your journey? ... No matter! I'll see you tomorrow." He speaks to the book.

Taking out his phone, he dials his wife, who swiftly answers.

“Mila!" He exclaims.

“Hello, love!" She chirps.

“Hey, guess what?"

“What?"

“I'm coming home early!"

“Really?! What's the occasion?" Mila asks.

“No occasion. I just really want to spend some time with you." Sven swiftly answers.

“Aww! You're such a sweetheart. I'll see you soon!" She chirps.

“Okay. Bye-bye!"

Hanging up the phone, Sven pockets the device before rising from his chair. Grabbing his coat, he returns to the desk to turn off the light, stopping to gaze at the family photo of himself, his wife, Mila, and their three children. With her rich, brown fur and long, ashen hair, Mila's emerald eyes gleam happily at her husband from the picture. Their three children, all horse Voeldahn, like their mother, crowd the human who sits beside his wife. Grinning at the picture, he pulls the cord and turns off the lights, eager to head home to his love.