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At thirty-two years old Marcus had finally fulfilling his dream of having his own prized farmland out in the middle of the great American west. And despite the hurdles that the man had gone though in order to accomplish his lifelong goal Marcus could happily say that everything was going right for him at this time. Yet Marcus couldn't have said that when he had just been starting pace the road for his vision to come about that his resolve had been unfaltering, especially with the animosity he had received nonstop from friends, family and enemies alike. Even today, when looking back to the years before, it still surprised him how much lack of faith so many had in him for doing something that, he admitted, that he hadn't been properly prepared for. However, all of that didn't matter now. All that mattered was that Marcus was finally going to get his prize stud horse and start building a respectable farm for himself from the ground on up. Sun shining down on his dark skinned face, the human rancher breathed a sigh as he watched a single truck pull up into his driveway with a large horse-trailer being tugged along behind the roaring machine

Marcus tried to stiffen his giddiness as he felt his stomach start to flutter with butterflies while he nibbled along his lower lip tentatively. The human male could almost swear that he could smell the stallion that he had just brought, even though the animal wasn't even outside of the trailer yet, and Marcus found himself having flashbacks on how he had come to being here. Almost as though his mind were making him recall every step he had taken back from the first moment he had decided to become a ranch handler.

At thirty years old Marcus had become a successful publisher who had made a name for himself back in the big city of the east with his best-selling books and small time journalism for private companies. During this time Marcus had come to realize that he wasn't meant to live the life of a city-slicker and found himself more than not looking to the expansive lands of West in both homage and longing. This fact was hammered even more so into his head after a vicious breakup with a smalltime fashion model who began to show Marcus her true colors. He had always known that she was a bloodsucker to the fifth degree, but upon having the woman he was dating laugh off his dream to give up the city life and move out to the plains of the West she had shown her real colors. And lord it hadn't been pretty. While never one to strike a woman Marcus had all but pulled out his dark black curls of hair as he and his girlfriend, ex now, had screamed and shouted at each other, especially after the woman had called him insane for wanting to give up the 'so-called' highlife.

Marcus snorted at that thought. The 'highlife', as the model had put it, was just a trap made to suck the life and wealth out of influential people while hiding under the guise of beauty and intrigue. Honestly, how often could one schmooze with flaunt their money in front of other people's faces before they realized that the life they were leading was nothing more than an illusion that, all too often, came to an end when the chips were down. Obviously not his former girlfriend as she had called him everything in the book before storming out of Marcus' apartment without finishing the nice dinner he had made for her. The fact that she had left her purse and had come back to find it and her coat hanging on the ring of Marcus' doorknob quickly sent a message to the woman about how much her presence was no longer appreciated. Though, in hindsight, Marcus realized that his move had been slightly childish, but at the time he had been much too pissed off to care about the consequences. The slander his name received from the tabloids had only bolstered his passion to leave the city life behind as his ex had quickly splashes his name all across the news media when she had first gotten the chance to do so.

That his agent had called and ranted at him about his decision, and why he hadn't come to her first had also sent sparks flying. It was only after having hung up from trying his best not to holler at the woman who did his publicity that Marcus realized how much of a child he felt like while living the 'highlife'. He hadn't actually had to explain his actions to anyone since he was sixteen years old, and suddenly he found himself doing so again at almost twice that age? So on top of feeling insecure and uncertain of his actions, Marcus had done what many men do when their emotions were left raw and opened, he called his mother to have a heart-to-heart with her. Oh how fun that had been!

If his ex had been a nightmare then his mother was like a waking night terror as the older woman tried to do all in her power to coax him back into his comfortable, well comfortable enough, living. Again, it was only later that Marcus could see the reasoning and logic behind what his mother had told him, but at the time he had been too crushed to care as it had taken everything in him not to burst with tears as he tried to tell the woman who had given birth to him of his feelings. On a good note, they were just now speaking to each other again, on a not so good not, Marcus hadn't spoke with his mother for almost two years after that, as after hanging up the phone he had gone straight into his room and then screamed his frustration into his pillow. His former neighbors downstairs on the lower floor were still convinced that he had hidden the body of the victim he had tortured after calling the security guards about his excessively loud noise. That made a chuckle purse free from between Marcus' lips. He never had liked the older couple anyway.

It had taken Marcus almost a week before he left his house; his emotions and senses had all but been left to the fray from the rollercoaster of feelings he had gone through, so when Marcus did show himself he had a completely new attitude about the situation. Six months later he had bought several stocks and bonds from multiple companies throughout the big city, all at the guidance of a friend of a friend of a stockbroker, and then set about pooling as many assets and favors as he could in order to make a comfortable next egg for himself. Being that he had so many feelings and thoughts rolling inside of his head from his, then current, emotional turmoil Marcus had literally pumped out book after book after Novel in order to make paper for his, then, newfound dream. Some his publicist loved, some she hated, some Marcus sold as copyrights to movies, both low and high budget. He was a man on a mission after all and only the lord himself could have stopped him from the forward drive he was on back then. And that never happened.

A year later Marcus had collected almost half a million dollars, what with his high paying stocks coming in nicely and his books being snatched off the shelves by fans, both diehard and casual. Putting that chunk of change up, Marcus had allowed himself the time to slow down as the end of the year rolled around and his emotions began to calm themselves back to into a somewhat sea of normality. And it must have gotten good to him because his ex girlfriend had tried to get back in touch with; completely unaware that Marcus had changed phones and phone numbers. She quickly got the message when he had, publicly, told her and the world that he was giving up the highlife and going to fulfill his dream of living on a farm. Something to which his publicist still didn't forgive him for, though quickly came to accept after Marcus reminded her that his association with her could quickly be taken to another person who was more amicable to his wants, needs and desires. He still felt somewhat bad about threatening her with his idle promise, but again, he did what he needed to do at the time and the woman quickly backed down, though she hadn't supported him. His ex...well she had been so shocked that when Marcus announced that he was leaving, alone, the fashion model had stormed out in a huff with her weave blowing in the wind. Marcus couldn't halt the snicker that came from his clenched lips as he thought about how she looked so much like the stuck-up French poodle she often doted over, whenever she wasn't fawning over herself.

The social stigmata of announcing that he was leaving the city life for a much quieter country lifestyle had been a much more trying ordeal to undergo as all of his former high and mighty 'friends' and other associates constantly hounded him on the why he was sabotaging his own career. Marcus realized that those people, they didn't have dreams anymore. Those he called friends had sold them all for fashionable clothing, trendsetter lifestyles, faux-friendships, and other illusionary day-to-day happenings that meant little next to nothing when weighed against what a man truly wanted for his own life. It was odd really, but once they had began to leave him behind, none of those people could be associated with him anymore as he had become something of an outcast within their respective clicks, Marcus started to feel a sense of freedom that he had been longing for. It was like he could breathe again after having been suffocated for years without end, and upon doing so one day when he had been jogging early in the morning downtown from his loft apartment, Marcus understood that he had then been gaining back the joy of life that he had only known when he had been a little boy back in elementary school. Everything he needed in life was there for the taking, he didn't even have to ask, and all the other things that he didn't need Marcus saw for what they were...which was nothing important.

If ever he had come to believe in revelations, not being a devout religious person before, though knowing that there was a higher power guiding all of this down here, Marcus believed that he would be alright in the end.

The things began to turn for the surreal as plan after plan of his began to fall into place with a snap. From selling off his condo for a reasonable price to an older gentleman looking for someplace nice in the city to live, to getting several calls to sign his books at various centers for the arts, to hearing from an old flame that he hadn't spoke to in almost ten years now, Marcus couldn't have planned his path any better if he tried -- and he had.

He and his old lover, well they had broken things off because Marcus realized that he leaned much more onto the side of being straight than gay, something his ex boyfriend had accepted happily, though somewhat despondently at the same time. Marcus hadn't gone over how much he missed the other man, and barely concentrated on the fact that he had sacrificed the good thing he had with the other man because of the trivialities of wanting to make a name for himself. Ahhh, the foolishness of his early twenties, Marcus chuckled too himself. His ex, whose name had been Thomas, was everything that Marcus could have wanted in another man; tall, handsome, sweet, funny and sensitive, and to this day Marcus still beat himself up from time to time over having left the other out in the cold for his career. Not that it matter to Thomas, the other man had taken everything in stride and moved on with his life the same as Marcus had, though with somebody new to shoulder the burden of being rejected over. Being that it had been almost a decade since they had last spoken Marcus was a touch confused as to why his former lover had contacted him, even more so as he knew he didn't have the other man's number and vice versa. It was during their first three minutes of conversing that Marcus found out that Tom had gotten his digits from one of his cousins, something that grated slightly on his nerves, but got quickly pushed aside as the other man relayed to him why he had called.

And after doing so Marcus could have kissed his ex through the phone!

Apparently, Thomas had heard on the wire about how Marcus was setting himself up to retire, or rather go out to pasture in the great West, and decided to use some of his contacts with an influential landowner to get his former lover a couple acres of grassland, for a reasonable price of course. Thankfully, Marcus had been in his room at an inexpensive hotel when he listened to the news otherwise he was sure that he would have fallen out onto the floor as a very big hurdle was suddenly overcome by the lover he had distanced himself from. Marcus had been looking for the right place to set up his new home even before he turned thirty-one and had been having a bad spot of luck with things since he didn't exactly know where he wanted to settle down at. However, upon hearing about some marketable farms that were up for sale Marcus had flown out to where Thomas resided on the first thing smoothing and then been whisked away onto a tour of the West to which he had so been dreaming of by his ex boyfriend. It was then that Marcus met Nate, Thomas' live-in partner, and had really been smacked into the face by what he had chose to give up as he watched the two men smoother each other in warm affection while leaving him to stand alone off on the side of his deserted oasis of lonesomeness. Yet never once had Marcus complained or griped when the two men kissed or hugged or fondled each other playfully during their shared drive through the countryside. It would seem that Thomas had come to make a name for himself out in the West, what with his experience at animal husbandry and all, and Marcus was all smiles and congratulations for his ex lover for making something of himself. It turned out though that birds of a feather do flock together as Nate was a veterinarian of some decent repute who ran his own clinic nearest to the major city that the two men cohabitated together in.

Marcus had ground his teeth together at that part as he remembered the days that Thomas wouldn't so much as touch a sick cat when he and the other man had been living together, right before he let his jealousy go. It wasn't worth keeping after all.

Hours of being driven around later Marcus had been given the rundown about how things worked out in the country and readily signed himself up for the task ahead of him as he, literally, had nothing to lose by trying his damndest to make things happen. To this day Marcus thought that it was his tenacity that had gotten him such a reasonable price for the area he wanted after meeting the rancher that had showed him several of the properties he had up for offer. The older man, who looked like he had been on the land when it had first been settled by the natives, had ended up selling Marcus twenty-five plus acres of land for three-hundred thousand. A steal really, though Thomas would never admit that he had used some pull to sway the farm owner's mind about selling to him so cheaply. There were some things that one should never tell and ex lover, after all.

Once the price was settled and Marcus had written the rancher a check he then had to wait a few days for it to clear before he finally got his hands of the deed and title to his own personal farm. Once that was done Marcus had what little he had found necessary to keep from back in the city, most of his things he sold of auctioned off just to get his finances in order. Marcus was still surprised by some of the bills he had forgotten about, some of which had halted him from making progress for a couple of weeks, but were quickly sorted out once he got a lawyer to help him sort all of his financials out. Calling his publicist and telling her that he had made his move, and probably wouldn't be back, both she and Marcus had promised to keep in touch as she, kindly, but firmly ordered him to keep writing, even if it was just a chapter a month as a hobby since his fame was still prominent within the minds of his fans. Marcus readily agreed and then ended his talk with her and prepared himself for what was to come next.

Being dropped off at his new place, which was just a dusty and unused shack that had seen better days, with only the few bags he had by Thomas and Nate, Marcus finally came to realize that he had just made a dream of a lifetime come true as he had left everything he had once thought of as important without so much as a second glance back. And he couldn't have been happier for it as this was everything he could have hoped for, if not more when he had taken his first look out across the world that was now his own. Expansive plains of green and brown stretched out for miles upon miles as far as the eye could see and at the sight of his new home Marcus had nearly wept in glee. There was nothing like owning your own land to make a man feel as though he had accomplished something special in life. Standing on his grassy knoll, Marcus' mind had furiously started to work on what he would need to get settled into his new life; internet connection and a small generator were at the top of the list, as the little shack he owned barely had running water. Key word, barely. One truly could respect running water when the toilet looked as though it hadn't been flushed in almost sixteen years. Thank the lord for good friends that didn't mind coming over to take him out so that Marcus could buy a truck to get around in, the little jeep Thomas and Nate had was cute but Marcus knew he would need something a little heftier if he was going to seriously contemplate farm living.

Using his accumulated wealth to hire carpenters and electricians to help him fix up his small place Marcus had renovated the entire shack/house to make it worthy of his dream, not to mention able to stand another sixty years, if not longer. Walls had been knocked out. A furnace had been put in. Three and a half extra rooms had been added to the back while a deck built to the front. Another bathroom had to be put in; the old had rotted out, literally. Older pipes had been exchanged with today's newer weather and ground resistant ones. An attic had been molded into the upstairs where once there had only been a small cubby area that barely fit a cat's ass. And finally an underground shed had been dug out of the ground back behind the house and then reinforced with brick and wood in readiness for Marcus to store what he would need for growing crops come next summer; wheat, corn, tomatoes and cabbage especially. Though in honesty he hadn't been sure if he wanted to go into the business of trying to sell his plants on the market, as both Thomas and Nate, both who had been coming buy much more often now that the relationship between the three was on much more stable ground, had informed Marcus that he didn't have to sell his stuff if he didn't want to. Most of the larger farms tended to corner the market so whatever excess he had that he wasn't sure what to do with he could sell off to the local grocer, the older man that ran the place would buy just about anything, if he needed the stock that was.

The last thing that the human had funded to be built was a shed which Marcus hoped would house several studs and mares that he had been itching to own. Classic red roof in design with expansive stables made for holding mustangs, Palomino's and maybe even a couple of shires, Marcus felt that everything was finally going his way when he had completed his transformation over the previously bare landscape. At least as far as renovations were concerned because knew that farming was going to be the real bitch. Having decided to wait for the summer to roll around before he did any real work with his land Marcus had gotten some advice on how to nurture his farm in preparation for next year, he'd even bought himself a small tractor with which he could ride around on, and then left everything up to the most high to see him through the long winter months. And boy had they been long. Having lived in a city all of his life Marcus was not prepared for frigid cold that had buffeted his small house for days on end. The copper toned human had even been snowed in twice in one month because of six foot high snowfall, but Marcus had wisely stocked up on food and water so that he could survive the cold season because of some useful advice from Thomas and Nate.

The fireplace really helped the most with the cold as Marcus had burned enough wood to actually have to actually shovel the leftover ash outside when the stone chimney had become backed up. The internet had saved him from boredom when walking around his house had finally become boring and it was only after punching up a few words on his keyboard that Marcus hit upon a sudden streak of inspiration. Having not bothered with writing anything new because of the headache of overseeing the renovations to his place, plus going out to spend time with Thomas and Nate when time permitted it, Marcus had suddenly found the time to write with a frenzied passion and pumped out a novel during the duration of his entrapment in his home. This was something that his editor fell in love with him for as the woman in question had been almost salivating to get her hands on another of Marcus' manuscripts. The context was simple as it had dealt with life before death, something many people were trying to touch on during these trying times, and upon working with his editor on shaping up the plotline and characters Marcus had managed to get something worth sending to his publicist during the three and a half months he had been snowed into his house. And then spring had come.

Marcus had never been so happy to watch the white slush and frost of snow melt from the ground as he was when the first thaw came in. However, the dark skinned human spent little time addressing his joy as he set about working to try and get things prepared for the year to come, after shoveling snow from in front of his doorframe. The most important had been to purchase himself a horse! A dog-lover by nature Marcus had grown up with hounds and Pitts and Rotties for the bulk of his life. So in his mind it only made sense for him to go out and buy himself a horse a month after he was sure no more snow would fall over his land, and once he had the hay and feed needed to keep the animal in good standing, even though he didn't have one line of soil plowed up in the ground.

And that's where the story truly begins as, weeks after searching and finding the right stallion he had wanted from hundreds of advertisements online, Marcus had finally found a horse that was just his style. Getting some advice from Nate, the man being a vet and all, Marcus had settled for a Mustang as his first stud on his little farm. The fact that he had no horse riding experience, he didn't even know how to mount one actually, didn't dampen Marcus' joy one bit as he finalized the deal on the animal in question and then sent a check through the mail office to purchase his stallion. Nate had been touch concerned that Marcus had no experience with handling a horse that hadn't been gelded already and fretted over what would happen to the dark skinned man if Marcus' personality clashed with that of his new studs, but because of his enthusiasm the veterinarian chose to remain silent on what he expected to be a disaster in the making. Notorious for their high-spirits and energy Nate had hoped that Marcus was fully prepared for what he was getting himself into. And upon looking at the man bouncing around like a kid of holiday...the vet knew that his lover's ex didn't have a clue.

Not that any of this matter as the next day after purchasing his stud, whose name was Jet Black, both Marcus and Nate went to the local horse/cattle storefront and filled Marcus' truck with several pounds of horse feed, hay and other assorted necessities. One thing Marcus could say about moving to the West was that almost everyone he met was exceedingly helpful, if not all out pleasant to him. The sales woman, a pigtailed beauty with freckles looking almost like she stepped out of Huckleberry Finn's story novel, was just as polite and chipper as a summer day as she told Marcus what she would need and then walked around the store to show him certain brand names that she recommended he keep in mind while raising his stud. Nate had chose to stay well out of the way of things as he purchased some things Marcus might need, the brown skinned man supplying him with a credit card to use at will. The saleslady, whose name was Melody, was even nice enough to give Marcus some contact information to some of the local horse trainers who could show him how to ride his horse, all of whom raised several Mustangs once or twice beforehand. Their conversation going from studs to each other in the blink of an eye Marcus found himself gushing over the woman who -- interestingly enough -- didn't happen to be married or dating at the moment.

Melody had giggled and done the usual schoolgirl routine of playing coy, but Marcus had seen it before and easily pushed through the flimsy barrier of bored disinterest. Turning on the charm and wooing her, Marcus was able to get Melody to give him her number, exchanging his own in kind, and then offering to take Melody out whenever time permitted it. Once the playtime activity was through with Marcus returned his attention to talking about his new stud, something Melody found herself interested in as she asked more and more about the animal. Marcus was more than a little proud as he spoke of the prize stud that he had just brought and even showed Melody the advertisement he had received about his stallion. And though he hadn't realized it at the time when he thought back on Marcus realized that there had been a funny look on the pigtailed woman's face as she read over the documentation about the stallion.

Said piece of paper read as the follow:

Jet Black is not a dime a dozen, he's a treasure whose value goes beyond measure, despite his former breeder's thoughts about this Mustang. The only colt in a hundred that was kept as a breeding stallion, Jet Black is of excellent physical stock and has sired two foals during his five year lifetime and has proven himself to be caring and devoted enough to sire additional foals, should his new handler be interested in passing on said stud's genes. However, any and all breeders that has as many stallions for sale as s/he does geldings either doesn't know a good horse or is one of those dying breed of men known as "Horse Traders". Mustangs like Jet Black are a rare breed and what most breeders will find is that he won't produce another Mustang of his quality in his lifetime, so please, only purchase Jet Black if you are seriously interested in him and are ready to handle the responsibility of owning such a stud.

None temperamental, though headstrong and bold in his own reserved way, Jet Black will adhere to any trainer/handler that proves himself to be capable of handling him with the care, respect and devotion that he deserves as a living creature.

We have produced many fine colts; you can find them on our gelding page. We have also offered only two stallion prospects for sale in twenty years. One is listed below available for the season.

The rest of the short page advertisement was illegible because of Marcus' finger being in the way but that was rendered a moot point because Marcus quickly returned the piece of paper into his back pocket as he heard Nate call out to him to get a move on. Lifting his head to give a cocksure smile to Melody the copper skinned man promised to call her when he had the time so that the two of them might set up their date with one another. The pigtailed saleswoman giggled and blushed, completely her oh-too innocent look, and then helped Marcus with the rest of his purchase before waving him away once Marcus had finished his shopping. The curious smile on her face resonated throughout the man's mind for days afterward but in his elation Marcus failed to notice anything peculiar about the woman's bemused look. Too lost in his own little world, Marcus wouldn't understand that anything was wrong...not until the day when his new purchase was being dropped off right in front of his doorstep and by then - well - the shit would already have hit the fan.

It happened on such a clear and beautiful Wednesday morning too...

"What the hell is this!?" In Marcus' defense the newly made rancher was in his right to blurt this statement out loud, totally missing the fact that the creature in question was easily definable by it's obviously anthromorphic characteristics and who then snorted at him defensively while curling massive black arms up under bulging biceps, as the human had not been expecting to receive this kind of 'stud' today.

"What do you I look like, slick? A goat?" The other answered casually down to the man, in fluent English no less, while its long and furry tail flicked behind its back whimsically. Marcus could have been knocked over with a feather as he looked to the horse handler that had driven Jet Black all the way from up north as though there was something wrong with the copper skinned man.

"What's the problem, mac?" The other human, a greasy looking man that looked like he belonged to a big rig union, asked as he looked between the horse and his new owner with confusion painting his bearded face.

The sight of the Marcus and Jet Black standing together, barely five feet from each other, should have been very surreal in its own right as the tall, dark skinned human standing in the middle of his farm glared up an equally imposing figure of a prized stallion stud glowering down at him. The fact that Marcus had just 'purchased' the horse from off of one of the breeding farms that sold the animals only served to make things more tense as a clear spark of deference shone in the Mustangs' eyes, despite the whicker of vexation souring the air between the two of them. Wearing a white button down shirt and blue jeans, not to mention finely tailored work boots, the copper toned rancher looked for all intents and purposes as though he were getting the first part of what would be a massive headache Marcus reached up to rub the side of his pounding skull. Brown eyes wincing underneath the bright gaze of the laughing sun above the rancher tried to steady his rising blood pressure as he looked over his newest addition to his farm.

"The 'problem' is that I paid for a horse and I get...what he is!" Marcus said, his voice rising as his senses went into overload, as he regarded the other man.

"Last time I check, he, was a horse." The horse trainer flicked a thumb at Jet Black and the stallion had the good nerve to look smug with himself as he whinnied while shaking his black mane proudly up across the air.

"I've never seen a horse on two legs before, well not in anything that counts as being realistic," Marcus was glad that he was holding onto his civility as his irritation was reaching dangerous levels. The fact that he kept wondering if he was having some kind of mass hallucination wasn't doing anything for his patience or stress level either.

"You obviously haven't seen the news then, friend."

"Meaning?

"Sheeeet! Anthros like Jet Black here have been out an about for the last five years throughout these parts," The horse trainer admitted fondly as he went to pat the big beast onto the side of his muscular shoulder. "Ever since that happening with the Calico foundation anthros have been popping up all over like crazy nowadays. You tellin' me you really didn't know?" The other human gaped in awe when Marcus shook his head no.

"I don't watch much TV and this was not on the brochure I looked over when thinking about making a purchase."

"Show me this brochure! Jet Black's file is on record with the government so there's no way that you couldn't have known,"

Marcus was ready to call the other man's bluff as he pulled out the piece of paper he had shown Melody from his pocket and then handed it over to the other human. Meanwhile, Jet Black let his senses carry him away from the place he would soon be residing in as the Mustang sniffed the air and listened to the sounds on the wind trickle in throughout his ears. From what he could see and smell of things J.B. knew that this was a place he could grow old in without having to worry about being sent off to die in some remote location back at the Facility where he had been birthed. Having been 'rescued' from the Calico company by his former handlers, J.B. was immensely thankful that he would not ever have to look at another white wall or epidemic needle again in life, especially after the bill of Free Writ had been passed for anthromorphs just four years ago. It was hard to find anything constitutional about keeping a sentient creature under lock and key, especially when said creature could read, write, spell and bleed just like everyone else around them. J.B. heard a sudden snort from his left side and dropped his head down to look at old Mackery, the man that had been rearing him up from a foal for the last six years.

"Well...this is confusing." Both Marcus and J.B. looked to the other human questioningly. "It seems as though there had been a slight mix up with things on the internet, or whatever. You see," Mackery showed the brochure to Jet Black and the horse raised one eyebrow in as he read over the typed lines. "it looks as though someone got the records wrong and actually managed to plant this in the computer underneath J.B.'s profile. I'm not sure if it was intentionally done as a joke or what, but it looks as though you did buy a horse from us, just not the one shown here." Mackery pointed to the image of a feral Mustang standing tall and proud while gazing directly into the camera.

"Ok, so what do I do now to make this right?" Marcus asked once he felt his headache receding as his blood began to slow from its frantic pulsing.

"Well, I could drive all the back and get things checked out for you with the company for you. Might take a week to a month, or so, and then get the owner to refund you your money so that you can purchase another horse from us," J.B. whickered angrily at that, but was hushed by Mackery so that the other man could continue talking.

"That sounds fair," Marcus nodded after closing his eyes. The sun highlighted his smooth copper skin and J.B. found his black eyes trailing down and across the little human's sleek, but powerful form.

"Or you could just keep him and make the best of things! That sounds like a better idea to me, what say you J.B.?" Mackery turned to look at the big Mustang and then grunted when the stallion's attention seemed to be elsewhere.

"Oh? What? Y-yeah, whatever you say Mac. I'll stay here if you want me to!" The stud horse turned to give Marcus his back and without meaning to flipped his wiry haired tail up over his back, showing off his black toned ass on reflex more than conscious choice.

"WHAT!!!?" Marcus yelled.

"Look Mac," Mackery began as he walked over to the other human. "You wanted a horse," Mackery laced an arm around Marcus' shoulder and then forced him to turn to look at the imposing visage of equine standing with its back turned from them. It was only upon looking at the flickering tail that Marcus realize that the horse was completely naked and gulped audibly as his mind drew a picture of the horse's genitals back behind his eyes, something Marcus' hadn't been aware he had gazed at as the sight of a horse on two legs drew much of his full attention. Mackery then finished speaking. "You got a horse. You can't do much better with a stud that can talk and tell you want it wants, believe me. There's nothing like having a conversation with someone who you, for all its worth, own and need to raise without having to clean up after him and teach him how to behave like a regular stud. What more could you want out of this deal?"

"Something I can ride and not feel bad about giving orders to because since it shouldn't talk back!" Marcus was tripping on the fact that, in essence, he would be trying to nurture a person instead of an animal as he realized that Jet Black could actually share his feelings and emotions with him, something the copper skinned human wasn't sure he was ready to deal with yet.

"Oh you can ride him just fine, trust me on that!" A wink came from Mackery and suddenly Marcus felt very dirty. He really hoped that what he saw wasn't what he thought he saw...otherwise...

"I'm still here guys. And I can understand you." J.B. said in annoyance, his long black mane ruffling across the wind as a sudden gust blew across the open field.

"See, that's what I mean. How can I try and do this when I'm basically making a slave out of someone?" Personal conviction made Marcus stand just a touch more resolute in his determination not to keep J.B., but it went unnoticed by Mackery, yet not by the Mustang in question.

"You keep him, because he wants to be kept." At that Marcus blinked and turned to stare at the other man owlishly. "Look guy, J.B., god bless him, is a horse. A smart horse at that, make no bones about it, who can talk, and sing and read and kick the shit with you, but still a horse nonetheless. That means he needs things, company of a good handler being one such thing and maybe a friend or two on the other." Marcus titled his head in question at this.

"Aren't you his friend?"

"I'm his keeper. I watch him. Feed him. Make sure he's satisfied, but at the end of the day I go home to the wife and kids and sleep the day off. The whole reason J.B.'s up for sale is because he wanted to be sold to someone that would bring him up right. Don't be fooled by those muscles and his attitude, the guy's really a colt at heart."

"I can still hear you!" J.B. stomped his foot against the grass, his hoofed toe beating the ground in aggravation and embarrassment.

"Shut up you! I'm trying to sell you over here!" At that Marcus blanched slightly. Was this guy for real? "Anyway, yeah, like I just said, I handle him, but he needs a real friend to do him right, figuratively and literally speaking of course." Marcus dropped his jaw at that one. "Look, you take him and raise him and do right by him and there's no problem, guy. You can't ask for better than this and you've already paid and got him here. You really gonna send him back home after coming all this way," Mackery looked around noted the newness of the farm he was standing upon. "especially after getting the works done up for him?"

"I...I mean...my god!" Marcus pulled away from the other man and then rubbed his face with both hands. Spreading his fingers and looking between his digits at the Mustang, Marcus had to admit that J.B. was everything he had been hoping for, if not a little bit more. Ethically, this was wrong on several levels. Morally it was reprehensible for reasons that breeched common decency. And yet, realistically, this was the way things were. Money aside, Marcus knew that Mackery was right about this situation, and in an odd way, upon looking at the stallion that kept his finely cut backside to him, Marcus felt as though he should go through with the purchase without hesitation.

Having come out this far to fulfill his dream by following his intuition, albeit despite certain hiccups and sidesteps along the way, Marcus was not one to go against his own gut feelings and sighed heavily before dropping his hands from in front of his face.

"Do you come with reins or do I need to buy some for you?" The copper skinned human asked his newest acquisition and upon hearing those words J.B. snapped himself around to face the shorter man and then shook his head wildly at the sudden question.

"I don't do the saddle thing, guy,"

"Marcus. My name's Marcus."

"Ugh, yeah, Marcus. I don't do that sort of thing," J.B. snorted and watched out the corner of his eye as Mackery began to creep away.

"So how am I supposed to 'ride' you if you don't 'do' the saddle thing?" Marcus really hoped the next words out of the horse's mouth were not what he expected them to be.

"Well for that, you have to get on top of me while we're on a bed and then slip your ass over my cock and let me fuck the stuffing out of you," J.B. snickered and then whinnied heartily when Marcus' jaw dropped for a second time.

Obviously the lord was on break because he hadn't heard Marcus' plea. This fact was confirmed because when next the copper skinned man regained his senses his ears picked up the sounds of a truck and trailer pulling away and turned his head quickly to see that, yes, Mackery was waving at him while driving full speed down the road.

"Wait a minute! Ain't you gonna leave me his papers or somethin'!" Marcus shouted, completely ignoring the fact that J.B. suddenly brushed up against him and took one of his shoulders into his large black grip.

"NOPE! HE DON"T HAVE NONE!" Mackery shouted, his voice still as loud even as he put distance between his former charge and his new owner. "JUST BRAND HIM AND HE'S ALL YOURS!" And then the little black pickup truck and silver trailer were gone which left Marcus to groan as he turned his head slowly to regard his Mustang. The look of thinly veined joy did covering the other's face did nothing to reassure Marcus about the circumstances behind all of this, especially when the man's dark brown nose twitched as he caught the scent of rising musk filling the air between him and his horse.

Whimpering and looking down Marcus almost started to whine as he found the first few inches of J.B.'s cock sticking up from out of his onyx sheath, the flared head pulsing and leaking juice down onto the stallion's intact balls.

"So let me tell you how to keep a horse clean!" J.B. said with a smile, his perfectly straight teeth grinning down at the smaller human as though he had found a new best friend. And in a way, the stud horse had.

"This is going to be a hell of a week," Marcus grumbled, not bothering to fight as he was turned on his heel and then led towards his stable, or rather, J.B.'s stable now.