FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

HOSTLE(R)

The young have a tendency to find themselves lost. Moreso in the remote portions of Austria. This account is a fiction-based notation upon their plight...

In the captivity and power of vindictive slavers.

Hostler: archaic term for groom/stable keeper.

Hostle(r): modern term of an equine slave master who treats small helpless beings to the trappings of equine-hood.

Greg thought it would be a good idea to traverse the countryside of furry Austria, after all, most violent actions occurred elsewhere; like the United States, for instance.

No, nothing about this expanse of countryside ever divulged the precursor for violence or sadism as it had for many others. But, he wasn't traveling alone, as he had a few buddies going along with him on this trip.

Jeff, a fiercely independent guy who was intending to come along to show off his "wilderness" skills. Greg and him had been good friends since their third semester in college. Opposed to popular belief, sometimes you don't meet your best friend the first week, but sometimes much later.

Cheerful Olly, though. Nothing about that guy qualified as normal-or human. Olly they met at the airport. Normally not inclined towards strangers-especially in foreign countries, they eventually acquiesced to the charming company of the jovial happy fjord stallion.

"I shit jha not, Ameree-cans! Good puss, good puss, in this valley we go!" He declared happily, carrying that giant pack upon his withers as though it were nothing.

Greg and Jeff had more problems with theirs, then again, they didn't have the strength of a mutant pony.

"Wait up dude, we weren't born with your kind of prowess!" Jeff protests, stumbling through a tangle of moss trying to catch up to the marching pony.

"Shit, look at him go!" Jeff muses with a surprised wheeze.

"Yeah, man! Who said cockroaches would inherit the world after humans were gone?" Greg declared, as the fjord grinned proudly, horniness driving him hastily.

Eventually, Olly would have to stop, unless he wanted to go without his "wing-men".

"What iz it thee ameree-cans talk about now? Global warming? What iz ze problem? Now ve Norwegians can get a tan like everyone else!" Declared the dun and stripe-tailed pony with a horsy laugh as he picked out dirt and rocks stuck on the bottom of his hooves.

They were sitting at a broken footpath, upon a fallen rotting log. The trees surrounding them allowed the barest glimpses of sunlight in, making this area appear to be overcast at all times. Dry leaves rustled about with the movement of insects and small animals rummaging underneath.

In short, the wilderness of Austria was picturesque and pristine, just as it should be for hikers.

"Yeah a tan with chemo. Maybe furs can't get skin cancer with all that hair, but it would really suck for us to live like that!"

Something above snapped loudly, a thick object crashing down like a flash of lightning.

"Sheeeet! Look out!" Screamed Olly.

A tree branch as thick as the one they had been sitting on slammed to the ground-and Greg's leg with a wet snap of breaking flesh and a thud of dry earth and crinkle of dead leaves.

Greg was unconscious from the sudden agony of this traumatic injury, Olly taking a closer look at the wound.

"Ja, es broken. Ve won't move ze branch."

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit What do we do?!" Jeff freaks out.

"Ve have to leave him and send ze help." Olly declared.

Jeff looked at what he could see of the wound, of the blood seeping out between the white of split bone that had sprouted violently from the flesh.

"Oh shit, man. Do you know how-how to bandage that?!"

It was strange to see how calm Olly was in a situation such as this.

"No. I vill go for help, you vatch him. The place ve vere going-it is a mile away. I can make it." The stallion declares, reconsidering.

"Don't make any "poon pit-stops", man. We need to get Greg to a doctor!"

"Ja, I agree."

Property And Playthings

The fjord was small and lithe compared to the mound of firm toned flesh before him.

This new stallion was pure black with amber eyes and wearing a lab-coat with white dress pants.

"Hello, there, little kin. Where are your presents?" The black stallion muses.

The fjord shakes his withers nervously, under the serious gaze of the larger stallion.

"An unexpected event, big brother. I brought two."

"And where are they? Surely not invisible?"

"No Sir, just zat vun has broken his leg, and ze other watches over him." He cringes, as if to take a hard blow to the face.

The black stallion laughs heartily, grinning widely.

"By this admission of yours, why, we only have one we have to auction!-the other one I own automatically-until he heals up-,because I am the doctor here, after all! I am happy, for then I can save my chits!"

The fjord looks up shyly.

"Then I am happy only to serve my stallion kindred."

"But you still must be punished. You will have your twenty chits per head, but because of your sloppiness allowing this accident to occur, I sentence you to five days on "the auction block"."

"No, master! Please no!"

"I believe it was Dex who saved up all his chits for such an occasion, and few will be interested in bidding against him or else, if they are on the block themselves, they will be given the same cruelty by Dex as revenge."

Twilight and darkness had broken through the canopy of trees, the sun gone, everything in murky blue-tinged light signaling the coming of night. Greg was in such horrendous pain, his breathing was rapid and he tried hard not to move any part of himself as he lay on the leaves.

Nearby, a snapping of twigs drew their attention to three large forms coming toward them;

It was...

Furtive funnel ears, long faces, muscular bodies.

Stallions; three large muscular stallions.

One wore a doctors' coat and carried a bag at his side. He was pure black, his eyes a soft brown.

"Where is my patient?" He asks in a jovial voice, a smile upon his muzzle.

"Over here. He's got his thigh broken. What happened to Olly?"

The other stallions, one a big brown and white paint, the other a silver-eyed red roan, both wearing back support belts took up opposite ends of the log and lifted it with amazing strength, carrying some distance off to get it out of the way even as Greg screamed out for mercy from his horrible trauma.

"Here, I did come with Morphine for this such emergency." The black stallion takes a small syringe already prepared with fluid, stabbing Greg in his leg, injecting a significant dose of the drug into him.

"And Olly?" Jeff repeated, concerned.

The doctor laughs.

"He'll be getting more action than you can imagine!"

Jeff sighs, relieved, "Bastard couldn't wait any longer, huh? I don't blame him. He got help, so that's all I care about."

"You are not angry that he dismissed and forgot your friend?"

"He doesn't know us. I understand if he isn't sympathetic. I'm just glad he got you guys."

"And we are equally glad that he got the two of you!" The doctor gently retorts, the two busy fellow equines grinning at the jest.

Before Jeff can enquire about the meaning of that comment, the other stallions have Greg's leg splinted and are ready to carry his miserable self the mile or so back to compound.

An hour, two, they come to the edge of a clearing where they see the enormous gray building of some complex.

"Home, sweet, home. Or at least, it WILL be for the two of you."

"What? I don't understand." Jeff stated.

Greg stirs a little from his fevered drug experience, also not sure if he heard the statement correctly.

"That's alright, mustangs; we don't expect you to know anything when you're first brought here to be broken in and trained."

"Wait, what?"

"Firstly, my name is Dr. Bigluv or Master, whichever you prefer. Second, you've been brought here to be our livestock and pets where you will be properly trained for obedience."

"No fucking way! I'm not here to be a goddamned horses' slave!" Jeff protests.

"You act as if you have liberties. But captured feral equines have no rights, do they, my ever rebellious peon?"

By the muscles of that black horse, Jeff withdrew his pride and anger, shivering as they walked to his new prison.

"What-what are you going to do to us?" Jeff nervously asks.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Who buys you. You see, we have devised a system to allow us to share our toys. Each morning you will be auctioned off to whichever stallion bids the most chits-chits are our currency, here. So, you will only be sold to the one who wants you the most for that day. Dex has expressed his intentions in trying you out first."

"God, I can't handle this."

"Understandable. We've had escapes in the past. But ultimately, whether you like it or not now, you will love being a slut once you've been properly trained."

"Training! You talk about that like I'm some fucking animal!"

"Aren't we all?" The doctor declares with a grin.

A new idea struck Jeff, an idea borne of desperation.

"Then I COULD run away."

"Yes you could, but you won't."

"Why not?"

"Who was your guide who got you safely here? Who is your friend who needs your support. At this point, escaping is highly dangerous and selfish. We would be less lenient upon you than we would have been in other situations. We can almost understand and sympathize with a frightened animals' urge to run away. But cowardice and selfish whims we do not abide by."

"What are you going to do, kill me?"

"We neither abide by death nor damaged goods. Negating some psychological pain, you will be kept untarnished and free of horrendous injury...it is important you understand this."

"Why? That sounds better than being captured by south American revolutionaries."

"You don't understand-you are here only to serve our pleasures. A scarred fucktoy is not beneficial to any of us, less so, a dead one."

"Are you saying-"

"The two of you will be our new mares."

"If you touch me, I swear I will fucking kill you or anyone who has this idea!"

"Spunky. Lot's of spirit...you will be fun...to BREAK!"

Jeff flings his arm in anger, trying to punch the doctor walking at his side.

"Bastard!" Jeff screams, angry and humiliated, and confused.

The stallion catches his elbow easily, poised to bend the joint outward and break or dislocate it, his hot hands flexing with muscle, almost biting into the skin.

"In the future, you will learn not to do that. Now, beg for me not to break your arm."

"But you said you didn't-that you didn't deal in damaged goods!"

"In training a wild animal, why do you not think they call it "Breaking them in"?"

"The spirit! They spoke of the spirit!" Jeff pleads.

"But the spirit can be broken-with enough pain-enough agony-enough bones."

As the stallion had him under his power, he didn't know if the horse was serious about either of the things he said;

At his confused look, the doctor smiled.

"Bones heal. The question is, how many do I have to break before you realize that we cannot be fought?"

"My government-they will pay your ransom! How much do you want?!"

"We cannot be bargained with." The doctor said, squeezing harder.

"But my government might send help-maybe the navy seals!"

"We do not respond to threats-say goodbye to your arm."

The stallion unwinds the elbow outward, as Jeff cringes from the increasing pressure.

"Please, no! I-I-please no!" He swings his other arm around to punch, but it too, is caught easily.

The joints creak, the tendons and muscle stretch and warp out of shape, some of the smaller tendons beginning to snap apart.

"Please, I-I'm sorry!"

"Yes, I am waiting. You know what I want to hear; lose your pride or your arm."

"I-SHIT!-please stop...................master."

The horrible pressure is immediately released, the stallion nodding with confidence.

"Good. The ripped tendons of your arm will keep you a day or so off the auction block, but in the meantime, I can be a demanding caretaker. When the morning follows, you will see how bad it truly is to be property."

A bay stallion with a large grin is standing upon a quite elaborate little stage, Olly, naked and held in place spread-eagled with his arms and legs affixed by chains and manacles to two parallel wooden poles at his sides.

Taking a closer look, one could see a decently sized pony at the front of the enormous crowd, staring speculatively at the pathetic whimpering fjord through a pair of black framed glasses. This pony also had on black rubber gloves and a white shirt with pencils and pens in a front breast pocket.

You would think such a creature was somewhat nerdy, but this was Dex, and he was unforgiving of such insults, as evidenced by the wide berth given him by the crowd.

Dex was a young stallion specializing in the more advanced and dangerous techniques of bondage; electricity.

This was a dangerous thing to experiment with, but if done right, could either be the most pleasurable experience-or complete miserable hell.

No one ever gave Dex problems, except Olly, many a time ago, which was why the dangerous little stallion in his scholastic attire waited patiently to bid upon his enemy, and show him what revenge and a grudge truly meant.

Dr. Bigluv, though, was a horse of a different color (pardon the pun), as he was wiser by experience, and by his training of the medical arts. Bigluv was an intelligent engaging fellow. He understood the methods of training at an integral-almost instinctual level, and he had the wisdom to be just cruel enough to make a lesson known without being a complete brute.

"We'll start the bidding at three. Three, do I hear three chits?"

Dex raised his arm.

"Three chits, three chits. Any more bids? Fine fjord flesh, my friends, use it however you want!" Declared the bay, lifting up Olly's tail and digging a finger in his helpless black-skinned hole.

"Four!" Yells a palomino.

"Four chits! Do I hear five? Nice tight ass, good for a nice fucking!" Then the bay slaps Olly hard on one bared cheek.

Dex calmly raises a hand, nodding, his eyes intense-almost psychotic.

"Five chits, five on the table! Anyone else want a chance to satisfy themselves on this little disobedient bitch?"

A great noriker makes his bid, gray coat, black mane over his eyes.

"Five chits! Five chits! Care to up the ante? It's not often you get to have a stallion as a slave!"

Finally, Dex smiles, sauntering arrogantly up to the stage, wagging his long white tail about.

When he is on the platform he faces the audience, grinning.

"I bid ten! And if any of you try to top that, I will do to you what I plan to do to HIM. This is my personal grudge, so stay out of my way until I resolve it."

All was silent. It was clear this little pony-almost feminine-commanded a lot of fear and respect.

He turns back to Olly, smiling widely like a lunatic.

"Just wait little bastard, until you see what I have planned for you." Dex whispered.

Olly only whimpered in response.

"What the hell was that?!" Demands Jeff, shocked at the degrading treatment of Olly.

The doctor laughs, amused, as he bandages the unconscious Greg's leg, fitting it for a full cast.

"That was the auction. I told you all about it."

"Yeah, but-fuck! It was worse to see it in person!" Jeff protests.

"For you, of course, because you will be next tomorrow, right after Olly."

"What the fuck?!"

"This is a job; a service slaves provide us, and each day, the whole thing begins anew. Eventually, unless you are well liked by respectable equines, you'll go lower down the totem pole as the high bidders lose interest in you and you are bid upon by the more sadistic shady fellows."

"Like Dex?"

"Granted, Dex does have a certain cruelty to him, but he is more flexible and civil than you imagine; ponies always are, if a bit mischievous. The ones you better worry about are the stallions who stay toward the back in the audience during an auction. Now, no master is allowed to kill, maim, or seriously injure any of our toys, but sometimes-sometimes there are methods of cruelty and depravity even you would not appreciate."

"No master, no! I'll be good! I promise!" Olly screams in desperation, crying pathetically, as the gray pony smiles in amusement.

"You promised we would be lovers forever, and then you dumped me for that sorrel, Frederick! Why should I be merciful, after I waited so long for revenge?"

Olly whines, helpless in padded stocks, his bared ass naked before the pony, his dun and black dorsal-striped tail tied out of the way like a mare ready to be inseminated by a vet.

"I have something special for you, little traitor. It is nine inches long, it plugs into a wall socket, and it is not a vibrator, though rest assured, you certainly WILL be vibrating to this little toy of mine."

"No master! If you put it in, I will be helpless! I won't be able to cum unless you let me!"

"Exactly, what is a worse punishment than being so sexually "charged", and not being allowed to orgasm.?"

Olly grits his teeth, hair shyly over his eyes, as the gray pony comes toward him naked and sporting a decent length of erect shaft. The toy he referred to was a long chrome phallic-shaped device that had a cord coming out of it. The cord went to a small black box on a table which was also plugged into a wall.

Dex casts a wicked look at the helpless fjord, rubbing his black and golden colored forelock and mane.

"Who's my little filly? You'll love being bred by me, won't you?"

Olly snorts in response, trying to ignore his temporary master with a shy close of his eyes and a nervous shake of his head.

Dex gives a cruel laugh.

"Filly is shy, is she?"

He feels along the soft bronze of Olly's bare ass, kneading the dun skin with firm rough strokes of his hand, as the muscles shiver underneath nervously.

"Yessss. What a nice ass, she has, too." Dex purrs.

"Please don't master!"

Dex takes the metal probe, licking the pointed tip, running his tongue slowly up and down the sides, blowing the object.

"Time to be taken to stud, little horse slut."

Then he sticks his fingers in his mouth, rubbing each sensuously around his lips.

"Mmm."

Before rubbing them on Olly's bared hole to lubricate it for passage, as the little fjord squealed in desperation, fighting the restraints, trying to desperately shake from the padded stockade, his legs restless and kicking out in panic. One nearly strikes Dex easily.

"Dirty little slut. Showing all the signs and suddenly going unreceptive when I get ready to breed you. Bitch will pay for that. You will never orgasm tonight, no matter how horny you get!" Dex growled.

"No master, please. I didn't mean it!"

Dex ignores the Norwegian horse, placing the tapered end of the probe against the soft dun skin of his slave's hole, as the fjord shivers from the slight tingle of cold from the unheated steel against his most delicate place.

Then Dex shoves it all the way in, watching with satisfaction as the probe is devoured completely into the waiting depths of Olly's ass.

"Now my machine will breed you, whore-mare."

Olly was drooling in ecstasy at the large pressure of it deep within.

"Yes master, use me like a slut."

"But you will not cum, ever. Will you slut?"

Olly only pleads with a begging whimper, as Dex sticks heart monitor stickers to his amber furred chest.

"And the probe will cut off automatically when it senses that you are close to orgasm. You'll be at the edge thousands of times tonight, helpless to sate yourself-ever."

The pony grinned widely, enjoying the sight of the cringing muscles, the jerking black skinned phallus, each cry of desperate lust-as the pleads followed Dex into the long night.

Toys For The Boys

"Tonight, I have a few things planned for you, but they aren't strenuous or painful-at least not painful to me." Dr. Bigluv mused, grinning at his jest.

Jeff looked around briefly at the little darkly lit medical clinic; an examination table with leg stirrups and arm straps, an I.V. stand with an empty black one gallon rubber bag, different sized steel syringes with blunted nozzles, a locked case of numerous drugs, and a number of cabinets with padlocks which were clearly off-limits.

"I don't like the way that sounded." The human declared, to which, the stallion laughed in response, beginning to sing in a foreign language; clearly German.

"Sind die Freunde mir gewogen"

His lustful eyes focus on the human before them, the stallion casually digging in his pocket for a jingling set of keys, using one to unlock a cabinet up above a metal sink.

"Die weibe Fee spannt ihren Bogen"

He takes from the cupboard a pastel purple box that looked like one for tissues, but instead, he tore a pair of powdered dark purple gloves, a chestnut stallion, one of the two guards, proceeds to hold them open so Dr. Bigluv can put his hands in them.

"Schiebt meiner Sorge ins Gesicht"

The latex snaps into place easily, tight over the furred black wrists, fingers well pronounced behind the rubber.

"Und auf den beiden Helften bricht"

Then he takes a thin plastic case, popping it open to expose a hygienically cleaned scoupal, taking it delicately in one hand as he nods to his two guards, who then rush forward to pick up and shove Jeff hard against the surface of the table, much to his surprise, as they begin to sing in the strange guttural language as well.

"Der Vater aller Spiegel" The two forceful equines declare, grinning in their own way, as their black leather pants began to get tight with stallion-size erections; aware of what was going to happen.

Dr. Bigluv comes close with the scoupal, easily slicing along the fabric of Jeff's clothes with not a single scratch to the skin. Jeff began to shiver, on a cold metal table in only his underwear by the time the big stallion practitioner got through with him.

"Er winkt mir und ich beug mich vor"

The stallions toss his ruined clothing to the floor, the chestnut lewdly licking along Jeff's chest with his big rough tongue, the horse sighing in pleasure.

"Er flustert leise in mein Ohr"

The two guards take his feet, shoving them on the stirrups and binding them in place despite all his weak attempts to struggle away, leaving his plump ass a little over the table edge, even as the stallions eyed that rump hungrily.

"Du bist das schonste Kind"

Declared Bigluv, as his blade nicked along the rear of Jeff's underwear, splitting the fabric wide open and leaving his ass open to violation, as his feet were perfectly stretched and restrained out of the way, his anus plainly exposed to the frigid clinic air.

"Von allen" Say the guards in chorus, watching the depraved scene with delight.

"Ich halt dich wie mein eigen Blut"

The doctor takes a good-sized tube from the unlocked cabinet, squirting some clear viscous jelly-like substance into one gloved hand, working it all over the fingers, as the guard stallions pulled a roller chair up in front of Jeff's hole, inviting Dr. Bigluv to have a seat.

"Du bist das schonste Kind"

He takes one finger delicately, working it coldly into the helpless opening presented before him so conveniently, even as Jeff struggled as much as able with all the restraints in place.

"Von allen" Say the two horny excited stallions, throwing the leather strap over Jeff's belly, holding ever more fast; resistance now pointless.

"In mir ist auch das Bose gut."

"Hey, asshole! Get away from there!"

The two unsated guards immediately take a black object from a nearby utility hook, now shoving a black rubber ball into Jeff's resisting clasped mouth, and fastening the gag in place with a strap around his head; protests angry, yet muffled.

"Die Neugier meinen Traum verlengert"

The black doctor takes pleasure in licking the vulnerable opening with his long lewd equine tongue, even as the guards watched, their ears cocked forward with obvious interest.

"Die weibe Fee sie singt und lacht"

The act is so defiling; all Jeff wants to do is scream and cry as the cruel horny stallion ravishes his bared helpless hole.

"Hat gewaltsam mich geschwengert"

He actually DOES cry, each stroke like black ice into his soul.

"Und trechtig quelt mich durch die Nacht"

Then Bigluv works his oversized cold slick fingers in there hard, practically ramming them in with coitus-like thrusts.

Oh, so good they felt, but in a bad way, even as Jeff cried, even as he got hard from the vicious jabbing of his prostate by cruel piercing fingers, he could not help the responses to this most sudden of rapes as a stallion took from him his most intimate of secrets.

"Der Vater aller Spiegel" Go the stallion helpers, one sucking noisily on Jeff's shaft, the other pinching his nipples hard with those wicked chestnut brown fingers.

"Er winkt mir und ich beug mich vor"

The force of three invading over-sized fingers are almost too much, as his hips jerk and send a long string of pre down the waiting throat of the black and white pinto eating his shaft like some obscene sausage connoisseur.

"Er flustert leise in mein Ohr"

The stallions all smile as they sing Rammsteins' "Kokain", visibly impressed by the hot little male body before their randy attentions.

"Du bist das schonste Kind"

Dr. Bigluv takes obvious pleasure and cruelty in the desecration of the flesh before his forceful prying equine fingers, the hole now wide enough that he can-

"Von allen" The two stallion take the lubricant tube from Bigluv, as the doctor holds the hole wide open with both his hands; one of the stallions shoving the end of the tube hard up there, and squirting much into Jeff's bowels, now making him feel greasy and slick inside, as Bigluv works more of his fingers-up to five-in the hot flesh to be savored.

"Ich halt dich wie mein eigen Blut"

He has his wrist in there, as he feels the rectum nervously convulse over his hand with tight waves of sudden protest and pain tinged pleasure.

"Du bist das schonste Kind"

The stallion shrugs with displeasure as he encounters the first balls of waste, pointing at the I.V. bag nearby.

"Von allen" The pinto mumbles between his hungry suckling, as the chestnut takes the empty bag and fills it with water, attaching a thick hose with a giant plug, and coming back with the enema and a purple cleaning bucket.

"In mir ist auch das Bose gut"

Jeff stared at the big filled transparent bag of tap water, trying ever harder to squirm out of his bonds as Dr. Bigluv elicited an amused laugh, accepting the enema gracefully from his 'nurse.'

"Und wie ich mich der Wehen wehre"

Declared the black furred doctor, spanking the bared supple ass flesh before his questing and probing eyes, Jeff cringing from the sudden painful snaps, plug ready to be plunged in with most rapid viciousness, as was the nature of the stallion during sexual play.

"Auf dem Kinderbett noch gehurt"

Jeff screams into the gag as the big equine works the latex plug into his much battered opening, no gentleness taken in the process as it met with great and painful resistance even if the passage had been well lubricated from before.

"Seh dabei wie ich begehre"

Bigluv shoves it all in with prompt eagerness, inflating it quickly with pumps of an attached one-way bulb, Jeff now feeling the butt-plug fill him out like a short stubby phallus, the black and white stallion holding up the bag with not so much as one second of attention or care, all his focus upon the rigid human flesh bared in his rough velvet cheeked maw.

"Und freb die eigene Nachgeburt"

Jeff feels the horrible pressure of it build in his body, filling out all vacant spaces, opening all passageways with hydro perplexity, undaunted in the discomfort of being full with cramps mounting, and an urge to evacuate, but all was held with obvious distress and panic by his frantic quivering belly. He can't hold it in-he doesn't want it in-let it all go.

"Du bist das schonste Kind..."

Dr. Bigluv puts the purple bucket up against the human's ass as the pinto gets done with his own amusement, deflating and ripping the plug out with one deliberate ass-shattering twist, a sudden flashing brown torrent empties easily into the bucket.

All empty, free of waste, but Jeff still felt unclean and understandably far from refreshed by the act of a forced clyster; the water which cascaded through him felt like the most intimate rape he had ever felt.

Then the big stallion doctor smiles, kissing him on the forehead, before going back behind and dropping his pants-exposing a quickly erecting shaft of tar black thoroughbred flesh. Then the other stallions go nude, too- forming organs glistening with sex fluids.

Fuck!

Jeff now wished he had never let the relief of the evacuation buoy him, as it was only the beginning of the depravity enacted by one intellectual horse with a too instinctual grasp of the human body.

"As far as me and you are concerned, you are nothing but a spoiled little filly begging and teasing my cock, and I am a veterinarian ready to take any step to make you my most splendid facilitated pleasure."

He takes the bucket and throws Jeff's own waste in his face, much to the humans' disgust and shame.

"And you are nothing but a vessel for my pleasure, so you better just lie still as I fuck you-stupid spoiled mare." Bigluv sneered, greasing his shaft with a sixteen ounce bottle of mineral oil; the shaft and head slick as saran wrap, as he emptied the viscous fluid there and-inadvertently without care-on the black tiled floor.

Jeff cringes, afraid of what will most likely come next; here it comes, that stallion was going to rape him with his big dick!

"Filly doesn't want it; she must be unreceptive. That's fine, one of you can enjoy it while we prepare something else special for the whore."

Bigluv jams his cock hard into the bared tailhole of the pinto with sudden intensity, as the painted horse drools and grunts with every stroke of force in his body. The thrusts rock his body with sudden splashes of pleasure. While this is done, the chestnut stallion takes a big one-gallon syringe from the cabinet, proceeding to masturbate his shaft, licking his fuzzy muzzle with some sinister thoughts in his head.

Then the pinto squealed with urgency toward the chestnut; who ran over to the other stallions carrying a large glass pitcher, positioning it right over the head of the black and white stallion, who whinnies loudly, filling the container halfway with his frothy warm bubbly seed with successive powerful jets like a cow with wide openings in her udders being milked.

The chestnut faithfully sucks it up in the syringe, filling it up a good ways-then he stands submissively, his brown tail to the side, as Bigluv grabs him by one shoulder from behind him and impales him hard with his black cock like the sudden thrust of a samurai sword; the chestnut horses' butt jiggling rapidly to make way for the wide organ.

The pinto happily drinks the little bit of cum left in the glass container, licking the froth from his lips like it were milk.

"Mmmm. Jawohl!" Before positioning the pitcher at the gleaming black and pink colored cock-head of the brownish horse.

Jeff could not understand what was going on; were they going to make him drink all their semen? Or were they going to shove it up his ass with that gallon syringe with the blunted nozzle? He could only guess, and he wished whatever they intended, it would not hurt or sicken him too much.

The brown horse screams, rubbing his shaft as the big black doctor fucks him savagely-then Jeff sees it; a shitload of cum sprays wildly from the big horse in steamy whitish torrents neatly filling up the container almost to the brim, which the pinto sucks up into that same apparatus with a loud slurp of suction, enjoying the taste of the leftovers as he did before.

Finally, Bigluv rips his own cock out hard, smiling savagely like a horny wide-eyed warrior.

"Now, my turn."

The two subordinates humbly go to him and lick along his shaft slowly with fervor, practically worshipping the flesh even as they played with his giant furry horse balls.

The brown holds the container, but the pinto has his mouth locked over the urethra, until Bigluv slaps him smartly in the ear.

"No, you greedy bitch; you know what we are doing with this load. If you want some seed for yourself, as is your kink, you can harvest it from the human later. For now, I need every gooey, stringy, viscous pint to teach our little slut friend a lesson in manners he won't soon ignore."

The pinto only whined in protest, relinquishing the fleshy black skinned head. Dr. Bigluv grinned as he swatted his tail to the side, motioning to his black anus.

"Anietam. Fuck me hard, I want to feel your dick in my stomach!" Bigluv demanded, laughing.

The brown stallion gave a smile of his own, taking the lubricant tube and squirting the rest of the clear jelly contents all over his cockhead in sticky strings of surgi-lube, letting it run down along his shaft in viscous streams, mixing with his few ounces of semen dripping from his piss-slit.

When the brown stallion was satisfied, he eyed the tight black hole with lust, seizing his rod in one hand to help guide it to the puckering black eye of delicious stallion fuck flesh.

Dr. Bigluv gave a loud horny grunt as Anietam penetrated him hard with one vicious shove of his lance of a cock, working the passage over with deep thrusts and vicious randy grunts.

The white and brown pinto watched-and caught-each jet of the throughbreds' cum into the large container, obvious hunger in his eyes as he licked his lips.

When the doctor had finished shooting his fluid into the container, he grinned, using the syringe to suck up the rest of it, then handing the great gallon syringe to the brown horse, even as he proceeded to bend over on all fours, prepared for the enormous torrent of cum to surge through his stallion-sized bowels.

The brown furred assistant prodded the doctor slowly with a very gradual penetration of the thick bore nozzle, and took great pleasure in teasing the doctor by only allowing a trickle to enter his great black ass-

Before ramming the plunger down hard and jamming his insides full of spooge in a manner of seconds, before removing the nozzle from the doctor's hole, dropping the empty apparatus to the floor with a thud.

Then to Jeff's surprise, Bigluv began to dance and run about the room; even doing exercises like push-ups and sit-ups, as the bloat of false pregnancy jiggled on his cum-filled belly.

"Anietam, prepare patient for fluid transfusion STAT!" The black horse remarked, even as he began to jog in place, bowels gurgling loudly.

Jeff screams into his gag nervously, knowing what was going to happen.

The brown stallion took one end of an enema hose with thick tubing; each end was a double bardex nozzle, complete with pumps and safety valves, shoving it hard into Jeff's ass and inflating both balloons to the limit.

The assistant nodded, satisfied, as he slapped the human hard enough on the ass to sting.

"Ready, doctor. Transfusion is a go."

Bigluv nodded, dragging a wheel-less chair in front of Jeff's splayed helpless ass, climbing up until he stood on it, facing his ass toward Jeff even as he swished his obsidian tail and cast his helpless patient a wry grin.

"Time to take your medicine, Jeff. All of it. Commence enema transfusion!"

The brown horse shoved the other end into Bigluv's ass with a loud squirting noise, blowing up both balloons to keep the tube in place.

"Transfusion ready doctor. Commence when ready." Then Anietam gave a crocodile grin, enjoying the scene playing out before him.

Bigluv took a few minutes to enjoy his cringing patient, and the begging looks of those eyes-

Before he grunted hard, defecating his spooge and liquefied manure enema down the tube into Jeff's own bowels, the liquid thick and creamy, looking like broccoli and cheese soup as it squirted down the clear tubing into Jeff's helpless unresisting hole, even as the human squirmed and gagged and felt like he was going to puke as the rancid mixture filled out his internal snaking passages quite easily.

They had an amusing time laughing and joking as Jeff fought and resisted, becoming pale with nausea.

It gurgled and swirled inside, twisting uncomfortably in the manner of diarrhea; burning warmly through him with sickening nausea.

Above, he watched the flow of a gallon or so of the mixture drain from Bigluv's big ass into his own with unceasing torrents of fluid. Soon, as his belly bloated and the enema began to taper off, he bit into the gag nervously and fidgeted in his bonds as he felt the cramps begin with hard cruelty upon his sensitive insides.

"I have a surprise for you."

Bigluv got off of the chair, tugging the hose free of his ass but holding it high so the contents would not leak out of Jeff. He gave the hose over to another stallion who began to blow softly into it for fun, making the human even more uncomfortable.

Ducking into a cabinet, Bigluv returned with a giant butt-plug which was much wider than the ones used before.

"We are going to put this in him and then send him off to the stable to be groomed and prepared for rest. Tell the groom to take this out of him only when Jeff is prepared in harness and ready for sleep."

"Ja." Anietam agreed with a horny nod.

Bigluv smiled himself, creamy manure cum dripping from his flayed tailhole, oozing in little streams to the floor and some sticking to his fine black tail.

When he was behind Jeff, he twisted the inflated plug-nozzle out with a hard jerk, making the human filly squeal, as he then rammed in the new plug as hastily as he could.

"You must have to go so badly, but I'm afraid that you won't be given that luxury until our stable keeper allows you to."

Then with a click of his tongue, the two stallions unbind him and drag his tired body down the hallway, many other stallions gawking at his full enema belly and laughing.

When they reach a door where the outer hall smells like hay, they pound on the door impatiently and dump him to the floor.

Jeff nearly pukes as he slams against the tiles with a sloshy thud, his insides going crazy with the sudden jolt and displacement of water.

They leave as another equine male of a palomino color takes the sticky note off the door one of the guard stallions had put there. He then reads it carefully and nods, dragging Jeff inside.

"Whatever you did must have really pissed off the doctor, little filly boi. Don't worry, though; I am a patient and understanding caretaker."

The big smiling horse drags Jeff gently in by his arms and puts him in a stack of itchy straw.

"Bathroom-bad." Was all Jeff could get out with his nausea, before he collapsed facedown into the bedding with a tired-almost primal-whine.

He could not move or anything, each cramp hitting him like a sickening punch.

"I see. My new pony has got the colic bad. I can't groom and take care of you like this. If all you can do is just lie there and retch and get ready to puke."

"Sleep-here."

"I don't think so. You're all dirty with sweat and manure, plus we still need to fit you for your new tack. The only solution I see is that we end this punishment early."

And Jeff sweated and grunted as he felt those big muscular fingers dig into his anus to try and work around the monster plug buried deep in his ass. Eventually, it slid out with a slurping noise, his ass collapsing painfully back into the empty space that it left.

Then he was free, but not really. He was naked needing badly to shit in front of a grinning appreciative happy stud.

"Can I get privacy?" Jeff quietly pleaded, feeling the enema begin to gurgle out in little slimy stinky trickles as he rubbed his belly.

"What?"

"Privacy-for pony-"

"Nah. You think WE had privacy? You just ignore me and do it like a horse." The palomino urged with a snort as Jeff cringed with all his cramps.

"But-"

"This ain't gonna go away. I'm not gonna leave you. So you can just take as long as you like Mr. prissy pony, cuz I ain't gonna leave you alone."

Jeff squealed, and got on his knees, turning away from the horse and trying to put the groom out of mind as he felt his insides tear apart and squirt hard from his body in a loud painful torrent of fluids and manure clumps.

When he was satisfied it was over, he got up and stepped away from his mess in the straw.

The horse appraised his mess with a smile as he picked up a pitchfork and proceeded to clean up the human's mess right in front of his own eyes, which embarrassed Jeff immensely.

"Good boy. I think pony deserves a carrot." The groom declared as he finished shoveling the used straw into a wheelbarrow nearby.

Then he went over to Jeff and rubbed his neck with that powerful hand, having him follow right behind to a room done in ceramic tiles.

"We'll clean you up in here."

Then Jeff watched as the big white-haired horsie with the golden fur got a hose working and ran the sedate-yet cold-stream over his naked human body, particularly paying attention to wash the feces from his body and buttocks. They all fell to the floor, coloring the water green.

Eventually, as the stallion lets him get used to the chilly water, he takes a bottle from a shelf affixed to a nearby wall and begins to squirt quite an amount of Mane & Tail shampoo into his hair and skin even as the hose continues to run as it temporarily lay on the scuffed tile floor.

The shampoo smells good, and the cleanness of it almost allows him to forget his previous gringiness, but he cannot forget the way he was sodomized by the doctor stallion.

"Almost done..."

He runs water over the frothy areas, working water into the shampoo mix, before he finally shuts off the water and towels Jeff off with firm strokes of those hands.

Reasonably dry, the horse has him lay in the straw again as he begins to brush Jeff's body with different bristled objects, working around the skin slowly with firm strokes to clear the dead skin and make the new skin glow.

After that, the palomino begins to untangle and comb his unruly hair as he lies there in the straw tired.

With all the attention, Jeff is lulled by it all into sleep like it were a massage. When the stud realized this, he asks with a laugh;

"Don't you want your carrot, pretty pony?"

"Keep it." Jeff tiredly mumbled, then fell asleep.

The jolly horse, with much mercy and gentleness in his heart, allowed the new pony to sleep where he lay.

Maid To Order

The next day, he feels something nudge him awake. He stirs, but barely as someone calls out orders. Then his tired sleepy form is dragged forcefully a long distance, as Jeff is not awake enough to have his eyes open.

But finally, he yawns and looks around-

And realizes he is up for auction!

Stallions fawn over his apparent tired cuteness with laughs, as he feels his body ache from the strange exhausting cold of nakedness.

Nearby, the bay stallion is content to just smile and point as he went through his heckling routine.

"Virgin ass for the taking. Do I hear ten chits?"

"Ten." Declared one appaloosa toward the front, kissing his wooden engraved pieces of 'money' for luck

"Fine rebellious bronco ready for some breaking. Spirit enough to be fun. Twelve chits. Do I hear twelve?"

"Fifteen!" A rather sordid and shy Icealandic horse did declare.

"Fifteen, fifteen. He hasn't been played with, and you don't have to share! Do I hear twenty?"

"Twenty!"

"Twenty-five!"

"Thirty!"

"I hear thirty! Nice tight puckered asshole to play with! Butt soft enough to squeeze for some good fun."

"Thirty-five."

"Forty."

"Forty-five."

"Yes, yes. Forty-five. Who else wants a chance to break a man in before everyone else gets sloppy seconds?"

"Fifty."

Fifty-five."

"Sixty."

"Sixty! We haven't gone THAT high for two years. You must want this breathing fuck-toy boi bad! Anyone else?"

Short pause.

"Anybody? One...two...three...-sold to Lord Poneh for sixty chits! Want your new toy giftwrapped, my lordship?" The bay stallion teased, making an obvious rich joke out of it.

A few hours after the auction, Jeff got to meet his buyer.

Master Poneh was a nasty soul of a diligent sort; Jeff knew that, now. He stood nervously in place as the pony circled around and examined him casually-like he were a replica of a somewhat famous painting.

"I don't like your ears, your brisket hangs out too much, and-oh, yes-that rump of yours is too small for me."

Jeff was subservient to the little stallion who stood two feet taller than him, remembering the disgusting things Dr. Bigluv had done to him.

The eyes were so very haughty and proud-the lips on the muzzle were arrogant-the way Poneh stood; as if he were a king amongst his peons.

Poneh wore finery of an odd sort; a red ascot tucked into a fine black velveteen jacket with frills on the sleeves; gold buttons adorned the cufflinks; his pants were tan jodhpur breeches; his hooves were polished with black smears of fine oil; his tail had been braided nicely with strings of black and red streamers of woven and well tailored silk.

His fuzzy brown ears were wide and attentive, his mane wild, yet conservative in the paradox of a Beethoven-like style. His face sported a white blaze of a stripe right down his muzzle to the nape of his neck.

"I've bid upon thee, but your purposes which I can see are so limited. Perhaps after I make a proper maid of you, you will give me much more amusement than the obvious pity I see before me, now. What do you know about cleaning, little man bitch?" Remarked Lord Poneh with a snide cruelty to his words.

"Anyone can clean; that's why having a job as a janitor sucks-there's no job security."

Lord Poneh rubs his brown whiskered chin. Jeff would think he was cute, if he didn't have those intense 'too good for you' eyes like a prince or duke.

"Any idiot can mop up vomit, to be sure. But what about washing dishes without removing a fine gilded finish upon the ceramic surface, or dusting with a feather brush around fragile things like figurines and my fine display of Fabrog'e eggs?"

"Better luck next time?" Jeff mused, knowing that the brown pony would not appreciate his humour.

"'Better luck next time' is what I will say when I am whipping the bloody hell out of your arse after you so much as tap one of my priceless treasures!" The pony exclaimed, his eyes alight with impatient nobility as he whips the air hard with one strike of a black leather-bound riding crop.

The pony had the look of a noble, there wasn't any doubt about that. The very look of his eyes was of stoic snobbishness.

"Am I to be reminded that most of you common-born American whores think that you are more deserving of a royal title than I? My lineage remains pure; long lines of ancestors from Her Majesties' stock-tempered by years of elegance and generations of noble breeding."

"In-breeding." Jeff mumbles, trying to suppress a laugh.

"Silence peon!" The pony responds with a horrified whine.

Jeff did not know what was more amusing; the way the Shetland was dressed, or his delusions of grandiosity which could not be true if such an important equine were living-even rather comfortably-in a run-down place like this.

"You must be a cousin three times removed to have this type of money, but be living out of a dump. What's your title, Poneh? Official ass-kisser to the queen?"

-SNAP!-

Jeff felt pain blossom through his cheek, staggering backward with surprise as a black shadow zipped out of nowhere-

-SNAAAP!-

Then just as suddenly, another strike of the whip slaps across his other cheek in rapid painful undignified style.

"What-" And he was crying a little; not because of the pain, but because the crop against his face was so humiliating.

And Lord Poneh was grinning slightly with a righteous smirk, his eyebrow jerking a little; daring Jeff onward.

"Perhaps you will learn your place if I hit you enough times. It's no different than training a dog."

"Fuck you." Then Jeff spat at Poneh, who took the gob right in his face unamused with a scowl, clawing it off disdainfully with one gloved hand.

"A dog indeed-sit boy. Kneel in front of me if you don't want another taste of leather across your face." He sneered viciously through those petite pony incisors.

Jeff turned to go-

-SNAP!-

And received a painful whip across his naked ass by the cheeky pony. He jumped forward, the area smarting.

"O, ho! Care for me to try that on your balls?"

Jeff turns, feels the black of the stiff leather crop begin to lift up the limpness of his unerect penis.

Hungry eyes like a sadistic wolf stare at the flesh, amused.

"Hmm. We both know how much it will hurt if I flog this area, don't we?"

Jeff began to sweat nervously, not moving any part of himself as the horse had him at his mercy.

"Good. Some order in this household. Maybe you aren't a loss for a maid, after all.

His balls began to itch in nervous ticklish waves from the sudden helplessness to a despotic pony master.

"I...um."

"You can get dressed immediately. The clothing is in that closet over there."

He points to a wardrobe and leaves, releasing Jeff from his immense power. Jeff can hear the pony sit down daintily in a chair and begin to leaf through a book or news journal.

Pulling back the door of the portable closet, he sees dozens of copies of the same French maid outfit put up on hooks.

This was embarrassing. Was it worse to be naked, or dressed like someone's female sex servant?

Jeff did not know if he wanted to wear so much feminine garb.

There was the dress, the gloves, the stockings, a garter belt--

And the thong-

The thong itself was black with white lace trim, just like the hem of the skirt of the outfit. In fact, it looked like it was made for a man (or stallions') cock to fit snugly inside without any problem.

Then, when he felt the chill of the air conditioning begin to soak into his bare skin, he finally realized he had no choice.

He changed in the apparel with great shyness and went to see the master, whom was reading the issue of National Geographic featuring the articles on miniature horses and toxic waste dumping sites.

"Hello..." He said, waiting as all he could see behind the magazine were brown ears and the lower torso of the pony.

A moment passed, a page flipped noisily, a tired gust exited his nose.

Finally, after a few minutes, Poneh put down his reading material and eyed Jeff in his slut finery with a capricious attention to detail.

"Yes, there's a maid. What is it, now? I don't think I told you to report to me after you got dressed." Poneh declared.

"I-well, I wanted to know what you need cleaned." Jeff offered, standing there hollowly and ashamed looking like a doll.

"And after that discourse of janitors and such. So spirited in your convictions on what the job of maintenance sooooo required. Dust, bitch. You can start with that. I dust myself, but I've gotten bored with doing my own work. It's much more fun to have someone else do it while I stimulate myself with more becoming affairs."

"Like what?"

"Not even a butler with a pension with me for twenty years of good service would not have the gall to ask that!"

"If you paid me, I would be more willing to mind my business, but since I'm a slave, why should I care?"

"BECAUSE-I will rape you hard in the arse if you trouble me further, sirrah!"

And with that, Poneh gave Jeff a kick in his bare thonged ass to send him away.

Outside Poneh's study, Jeff eyed the décor of the living room. There was no t.v. to speak of, just bookcases and lots of little knick-knack finery like figurines and those eggs they make suck a big deal out of.

From his garter belt he pulled the feather duster and began to clean ever cautiously about the fine ceramic and fragile objects on display all about. At one point, he accidentally tore off a finger from a little angelic looking Pegasus, and he hoped Poneh wouldn't notice it, but he probably would later and get all pissed off.

As long as he didn't drop something, he would be good. He couldn't imagine what Poneh would do to him if he broke something instead of just tipping off a piece of a bigger figurine.

But then, another part of him wanted to break something just to enrage the arrogant pony master. Just to get back for all the humiliation.

Is a five-thousand dollar display object worth all the pain he put me through?

-CRASH!-

Definitely.

"What the hell are you doing, dusting with a cricket bat?!" Goes the snarling finicky voice of the master in all his high and mighty glory.

Then he charges into the room and looks at the broken ceramic Breyer horse in contempt, browsing all the fragments on the floor.

"You broke it, so you must be punished." He swats his palm with impatient slaps of his stiff riding crop.

He flicks his tail in a haughty horse way and proceeds toward his parlor. From his back comes his voice;

"Clean that up and come see me for your discipline, slut maid."

Jeff grins as he sweeps the little painted fragments into a dust pan and dumps it into the trash.

When he is finished, he goes before the pony who is now reading "The Equine Enquirer."; a magazine by horses for horses.

"Did you have fun breaking that collectible? I believe it was worth fifty dollars, so I am going to give you fifty whacks on your tender butt to compensate for the damages."

Jeff looked on, knowing that if he fought, the pony would have a tough time trying to whip him.

"Eat shit."

"Impudence in my home. Did you forget that I could send you back to Bigluv for stricter punishments if you disobey? Be thankful your just getting spanked. This will be less severe than whatever any of those full-sized brutes can do to you."

Poneh then tapped his lap expectantly, arranging himself in the armchair to accommodate the act.

Jeff hesitates, unsure what to do in the face of the coming pain. He hadn't been spanked in a long time, and to prostrate himself helplessly for a pony to do so would be quite embarrassing AND damaging.

"I hate you."

"I don't care. Just shut up and obey me, ruffian."

How demeaning it felt as Jeff crawled into the warm supportive lap of the pony as the master laughed in good fun over Jeff's humiliation.

"You should be glad you didn't break something more valuable. Fifty strokes is nothing. I once spanked a slave so many times that they passed out."

"I hate you."

"One."

Jeff blushed as the pony lifted up his skirt out of the way and rubbed his butt with soft molesting strokes of the whip before-

-CRACK!-

Pain stung through his bum like a cascade of putrefying fire.

-CRACK!-

Then more agony pierced through him ever more hotly than the last.

-CRACK!-

The burning sensation of it filled all his being with sharp stinging soreness and tears down his face.

After ten stripes, the pony rests his hand by placing the whip handle into Jeff's anus while he stretched his arms. Jeff's face burned with shyness from the strange humiliating intrusion.

Then, twenty, thirty, forty-

The whipping and his red burning asscheeks became his entire world, as each twinge of muscle or movement of his tired legs caused further agony.

"Almost there, maid bitch." The pony sneered happily in his cruel way.

-CRACK!-

Fortieth stroke blossoms on his ass like acid, burning into the hot fevered skin like a bad horrible memory-

-CRACK!-

Followed by another-

-CRACK!-

And another-

-CRACK!-

And another.

Each welting bruise of pain zaps dully into his head like silenced lightning, his body numbed to all other interference as the stinging flogs take him to oblivion-

-crack!- (like an echo from hell)

And beyond that into the truer torments of the deeper purgatories of falsehood.

-crack!-

Echoes. Just echoes, now. Resounding off his being like soft thunderclaps in the distance.

-crack!-

Further he retreats from the pain and the agony of his punishment.

-crack!-

He tries to ignore all the bad sensations as they eagerly follow him; nibbling on his ass like hungry wolves.

-crack!-

Almost over-almost over before he can rest and pretend he was not taken so savagely by a horse.

-crack!-

Rest uneasily among the echoes of pain and the taps of discomforting blistering welts on his rump.

Meanwhile, while Jeff was in a straw strewn stall being taken care of by a perky provocative palomino, Greg awakens tiredly from his own pain-filled slumber to the amused attentions of the doctor.

Playtime and Playpens

Later...

"Your name is Greg, isn't it?" Mused the black stallion doctor.

"Yes, where is my friend?" Greg asks, his eyes delirious and fatigued.

God, he was so fucked up right now! The broken leg and the constant flow of morphine had his head all muddled up; he was as helpless as he could ever get.

"You have nothing to worry about. In fact, you've got nothing at all to worry about. For today, I thought I would give you over to a nice friend of mine who always wanted to be in this type of situation."

"What situation?"

"With that lame leg, why, you're as helpless as a..."

A great enormous horse with black fur and white feathering on his wrists and ankles came into the clinic, a giant pink duffel bag slung on one shoulder, a pearly smile of his white incisors displaying some impish delight.

"Baby." The giant shire finishes, laughing with a cruel amused whinny.

Only now did he see that the shire was actually carrying a diaper bag.

"Oh, fuck me!"

"A nice thought,' mused the great stallion with a laugh, 'but let's start off slow, shall we?" He declares, digging in his tote for something.

The stallion came out of the bag holding a strap-on pacifier, leaning in close to put it on Greg.

"First, my little foal, babies don't talk unless I let them."

But Greg, confused as he was, resisted, shaking his head and lashing weakly out with his arms.

The stallion went on, undeterred, shoving the rubber of the binkie between those soft stubborn lips and a brisk snap of leather, keeping the degrading pacifier-shaped gag in place.

"Hmmm." The big shire turns back to Dr. Bigluv.

"Do you mind if I take him to my quarters now, and change him there?"

Greg squealed in muffled protest as he heard the obvious plans of the horse that intended to put him through infancy again.

He couldn't imagine what that treatment would feel like, but he wasn't far from finding out what it entailed, either.

"Absolutely. I insist upon it. Normally, I'd keep him, but I have a strict personal code against raping lame animals, and I know that you are more interested in the fetish than the sex. Besides, you're the most gentlest of us living here. I can trust you to be slow and patient with this one, as he needs to be broken slow. His friend is different; Jeff is too headstrong to accept us without force-I could see it in his eyes."

"Damn you're good." Stallion daddy mused with a sigh of surprise, laughing.

"No, I'm just a stallion with a special instinct for seeing temperaments of men. Greg is willing, but he has the doubt in his body for this type of love. Jeff is a violent bargainer-if he can't negotiate his way from a bad situation, he tends to threaten with violence."

"Right...so Greg is..." The shire asks.

"He'll resist, but he won't have the hate in his heart for being denied his pride. Jeff will be someone else's difficulty. I recommended to Lord Poneh that he should bid on Jeff in the auction-to teach the arrogant bastard some humility and etiquette, but it's ultimately up to whoever wins the bidding war who gets to deal with the problem, but I personally DO prefer Poneh next."

"Me too; that Victorian snob with his crop/riding whip and maid slut training-the pony master does good work."

Greg had very little choice as the giant equine with the muscular bod picked him up and carried him out of the clinic and down several shady hallways; many doors on both sides. Careful not to jostle the broken leg, which had been bandaged only at the thigh to keep the shin and knee flexible, and four cold steel bars bound to the appendage to give it support, the stallion finally came to a door painted in an odd rainbow assortment of colors.

Inside was a decent living space decorated in the most lamest, gayest of ways; it looked like some sick-ass paradise for pedo's.

There was a fire-truck crib, a giant rainbow colored playpen in the center, infantile toys scattered all over the floor.

The shire brought him over to a good-sized plastic picnic table, laying Greg on his back, rubbing his muzzle, thinking, before ungagging Greg.

"Fuck, dude! This place looks like child molester heaven! Why the fuck did you decorate like this?!"

The big horse frowns, his eyes taking on an edge of impatience for one breed so normally known for calmness.

"You shame me, Greg. There are no stallion pedophiles in this place. This is all set up for adult baby play; it has nothing to do with children at all. This is just a harmless fun little kinky fetish for two mature adults-like us."

"Fuck that; I'm not your baby-I prefer being continent and sane!"

The stallion took out two giant diapers from his tote; one was blue, and the other was pink. He held them both out for obvious display.

"At this moment, you are faced with an interesting choice; Dr. Bigluv said that you were a more complacent fellow than that stubborn idiot friend of yours."

"What choice?"

"This is the way we're going to do it. Normally, I don't give two road apples about how I treat most of the humans who I bid on, but since this is your first dominance situation-you can either promise to be a good boy for me, and we can play and maybe have a fun time together. The alternative is to be a spoiled bratty girl, and you'll be miserable, and the only one having fun will be me-from your torments. I really don't want to humiliate you that badly, and you must realize that my control over you is total and undeniable-you can go with it, or get swept away; but I prefer the former because I'm a very cuddly friendly nursie."

Greg took some time to think about that. The choice was obvious, if resistance was impossible. But to submit so willingly to any of this was still degrading, anyway.

"My dignity..." Greg breaks off, uncertain.

"Dignity is stupid. In this place, ego will make things harder, and ultimately, everything will hurt more, anyway, when you lose that pride and submit. It is usually easier if you give up, now. That way, we can go easier on you when we see that you are earnestly trying to make the effort to meet us halfway."

"But-"

Stallion Daddy cuts him off.

"Most of us who live here are very nice; there is compassion and mercy and understanding for sincere consenting slaves."

"Please don't hurt me."

The eyes of the giant towering stallion took on a glimmer of sympathy, hearing the utterance of those words. Realize it or not, Greg just inadvertently confessed that he was completely helpless to the shire.

"You are weak and helpless; that is all I desire. I merely wish to be a caring guardian."

Then as Greg wiggled there on the table with some certain amount of fear, the horse slid off his boxer shorts-his pants had been completely sheared off for the creation of the cast.

Stallion Daddy looked at the naked crotch and took a tender lick of Greg's limp penis, making the man shiver-before he threw the pink diaper to the floor, and held up Greg's ankles in one hand, taking great care to put all the pressure on the unbroken leg, lifting that delicate tiny human butt in the air.

The shire easily slides the diaper under those sensual buns, lowering Greg slowly into the soft cotton pad of the strange apparel. Greg whimpered shyly as he felt the material on his rear, nervous as hell.

Stallion Daddy immediately stops, picking up the scrawny Greg in his great black arms, the shire's body naked, muscular, and astonishingly beautiful. The shire hugs him, and he whispers soothingly, and he takes time for a kiss on Greg's cheek.

"Shhhhh. Don't worry baby Greg; I love you, I won't hurt you in any way."

The horse puts him down on the outstretched eggshell blue diaper. Daintily seizing a white container from nearby and sprinkling a generous silky shower of white powder onto Greg's crotch, which tingled like a soft rain upon his delicate bared skin and genitals, before setting it down and lifting the front part of the diaper and fastening it tightly in place on the human's hips with little tape ends in place.

Greg felt the thick material of the giant disposable diaper; heard it crinkle with every tiny movement of his legs and breathing. It felt so embarrassing to be forced to wear the article, but he knew that if he resisted, not only would he fail, but things could have been even worse. The stallion was right; as bad as this is, he could make things much more uncomfortable.

Stallion Daddy shoves the pacifier gag back into Greg's mouth and fastens it in place quickly, picking the human up and carrying him over to the giant playpen in the middle of the room, placing him in with a thud on his padded thick cotton butt against the soft bed-like material of the playpen floor.

"Why don't we play with your blocks?" And as Greg saw the horse wink, he knew that there was some hidden meaning to that comment.

Greg looks at the blocks; normal wooden blocks with letters and numbers on them, but a little bigger than normal. He picks one up; uncertain.

Then the answer snaps quickly into his mind like a rubber band breaking-

Letters on blocks; this was how he was supposed to talk!

Greg grinned wryly, pacifier astray at his lips.

...F...

...U...

...C...

...K...

...Y...

...O...

...U...

Spelling that out so plainly was almost satisfying and fun.

The stallion rubbed his whiskered white and black chin.

"Hmmm. I think I'll pretend this once that baby doesn't know what he's spelling, and that was a fluke, your frustrations at this moment considered."

Greg shivered, remembering the blue diaper was an act of mercy and that the shire could easily have him in pink and do all kinds of kinky horrible things to him.

He looked at the other things in the pen with him; One of those lame-ass loop stackers. A Jack in the crack. A little car steering wheel. One of those retarded elementary school phones-well, that last one wasn't so bad-if he got bored of being trapped in this crappy place, he could use the cord of the phone to strangle himself to death.

It was funny that babies found these things so entertaining; then again, Greg was officially a "big boy", so he didn't need this crap.

He needed a good woman, a few rounds of Halo, or maybe even a few bouts with a boxer at the Y-but this was almost disgusting to a mature man.

The soft kind eyes of the shire seemed to agree, as stallion daddy rested his arms on the top of the very high rail of the pen, gazing patiently in, swatting his short tail about which betrayed his inner impatience.

Greg stared at the horse, unsure what the stallion was waiting for. Until the big horse finally sighed, reaching those thick arms in, picking up a plastic ball, and rolled it towards him.

Greg let it tap his thigh and rebound away, unfazed; uncaring.

"At least TRY to enjoy it." The horse declared, flustered greatly.

When Greg continued to sit there on his padded butt, unmoving, the stallion snorted and wagged his finger, now looking more stern a caretaker.

"Baby Greggie weggie-if you don't try to have some fun, I'm going to go to Dr. Bigluv for a disposable glycerin micro-enema so I will at least have fun changing you."

When Greg did not respond to the threat, stallion daddy smiled with some mischief, as was his way when formulating some plan of action which would be considered extreme and somewhat cruel, but never violent-unless one counted the spankings.

"Greggie doesn't know what glycerin is, does he?"

Then the stallion laughed, amused by this new fact, as he stroked his chin and thought about it some more.

"But you want to know, I'm sure; so that you have good reason to be afraid. Well, baby, glycerin is a very powerful glucose related byproduct of soap-making. It irritates the rectum so bad, that in a majority of users, a bowel movement is uncontrollable-particularly in the later stages of the drug's effect. It is easy to resist for awhile, but eventually like a tide, the urge gets closer, and closer, and closer-until your bum's all wet!"

Then the shire laughed, grinning at the shocked expression of his charge. Greg shivered, thinking of the disgusting feeling of shitting himself-and not in a toilet-like a baby.

"So I think we understand each other?" The stallion prompted, to which Greg emphatically nodded.

He took another look around the pen and found something he might be able to have fun with.

Greg picked up and aimed a gun at the big horse!

In response, the stallion raised his hands high in the air, bumping them into the ceiling accidentally as he chuckled heartily in his deep rumbling voice.

"Does baby wanna blow bubbles at daddy?"

A rainbow colored weapon with two rippling reservoirs on the top, a battery likely in the plastic handle, and a nozzle at the end with a hoop.

Greg wished he had the courage to use the real thing, but for now-

Shining rainbow spheres floated through the air with each press of the yellow trigger. It was somewhat fun to watch the bubbles shoot out in streams of bouncing friendly phantoms of viscous soapsuds.

Equally, Greg wished he could laugh without the gag in place as he watched the stallion-big as he was-dodge many of the attacking spheres nimbly like a dancer, few popping against his furred hide and creating damp little circles amongst his body.

Finally, Greg ran out of ammo, and as the last bubble left the muzzle of the toy, stallion daddy easily crouched down and snorted, gently launching the bubble back. It popped on Greg's nose with a tingle and a hint of the smell of diluted solution.

"What joy! What else would baby like to play? I know-why don't we get Greggie something to eat?"

Then the shire left him by himself in the room for ten minutes or so to do something. While the horse was gone, Greg cleared out a space for himself in the playpen free of any objects. Instead of playing with Honk Kong's finest crap, he gave himself over to thoughts of escape-which wasn't easy with a broken leg. While the playpen looked like nothing to stallion daddy, to Greg it was an inescapable monolith of infantilism doom.

Stallion daddy came back with a blush on his cheeks, a sheath smeared darkly with some shiny oily substance, and a warm steamy baby bottle of ready-made formula.

"Fresh milk for baby!" He announced, bending over the playpen rail to undo Greg's pacifier, and gently hand him the almost toasty bottle.

Greg looked at the contents, unsure and quite nervous.

"Finish your ba-ba, or daddy will give you a glycerin now, and another glycerin tonight before you go to bed so you have to sleep in your mess until morning." Then he began to tap the polished white painted wood of the rail with impatient taps of his hoovie fingernails.

Greg began to suck on the bottle, mystified by the flat viscous taste of what drank like a bland warm milkshake. After he got used to the taste and the ropy thick sticky gobs rolling down his throat, he managed to drink down his formula earnestly until there was nothing left, and he shyly handed it back up to the giant horse towering over him.

"Does baby want more? I don't know if daddy has it in him!" Mused the horse, grinning, but he took the bottle and left the room once more.

Strangely, the formula rested well in his stomach and made him a little sleepy. There weren't any drugs in it, it was just that it was so heavy and it caused that response; like becoming tired after eating a large dinner.

Greg lay on his back, arms under his head as he thought about Jeff, wondering what they might be doing to his friend. The thoughts turned to worry almost immediately, as he remembered the tough times with his college friend.

What are they doing to Jeff? What are they going to do to both of us?

Greg wished he had never gotten the idea to follow one ridiculous exuberant pony into the wolf's den of sexual depravity. For now, Greg was lucky to have a caretaker who was gentle, but how would they treat him once his leg mended itself?

And...what other acts will he and his buds be exposed to in the coming days of darkness?

......

Minutes later, the stallion would return to the nursery with a worried expression, dropping the full bottle of "milk" to land with a dull thump on the floor, and immediately reaching his arms into the crib to take up Greg into his satin warm-furred chest and welcoming muscular pecs, nickering softly into the ears of the crying man.

"Shhh. Shhh. What's wrong, Greggie?" Stallion Daddy whispered to the tiny form held delicately in his toasty strong arms.

"It's-It's...It's-M-m-m...friend..." Greg managed to get out.

The shire did not respond, closing his soft almond colored eyes, and snorting soft gusts of his nares onto the bare flesh of his baby in light teasing, tingling caresses.

"And me..." Greg finished.

"You ARE afraid, aren't you? I understand; a new lifestyle change is very scary when you are given no choice but to accept it."

Stallion daddy strokes Greg's unkempt hair back, rocking him back and forth. He feels as his baby grabs shyly for his long chest fur in reassurance.

"I didn't want to accept it." Greg whispered, calming some.

"Sometimes, great men cannot predict the course of their lives. Sometimes, it is hard enough to make your own decisions, that being given no choice is even worse. Great men rise above persecution of the body with strength of the mind. I admire you humans for that; we equines must take whatever we are given and be content with it, but humans always have dreams of better things for themselves."

Greg's teary eyes looked at the closed eyes of the equine behemoth, amazed at the insight of the draft stallion.

"Humans can dream, and they can see the future good. Horses can only live happily for the moment and take whatever they can for the sake of pleasure and small purposes. Greater purpose in life; my kind do not think as you do; our kin do not plan for the future, we take pleasure in the present. I suppose that's why people compare horses to hedonists, but we know no better-it is our way."

Then the stallion positioned Greg in such a way that the human was held by his underarms, feet and diapered torso hanging limp in the air, before the shire tossed him up against his chest, one hand on his bare back and the other firmly grasping his padded butt in a light grip.

Stallion daddy grinned, his and Greg's faces close in the unequal embrace, sighs of electric emotion tingle through both of them at the touches of something so intimate.

And this was where Greg found comfort-

Falling into trusting slumber as the stallion whispered kind nonsensical things soothingly into his ears like a lulling verse of a lullaby.

......

Greg awoke later with a yawn, uncertain of how long he had been asleep. Looking through hazy half closed eyes, he saw the red bars of the fire truck crib, a mobile above spun with little plastic non-anthro horses frozen in various running positions.

He had his head on a big sky blue pillow, and was covered up to his ribs by a thick comforter with stars and moon cartoon pictures on it; all of them smiling like Greg being a baby was the biggest joke in the world.

Greg made a movement as if to roll over on his side to get more comfortable, when he bumped into something big and warm-stopping himself uncertainly. Turning his head, he saw the giant horse was sleeping in the enormous crib with him, a hoovie thumb in his muzzle, his eyes closed tiredly, and his chest heaving with calm relaxed breaths of sleep. In his arms was held a giant stuffed brown horse-

Looking down with shock, Greg could almost laugh!

The big stallion wore a big starched white cloth diaper about his waist, clear plastic pants pulled up tightly over the garment as if to hide it unsuccessfully. Another odd thing was the giant safety pin holding it all together; which was little larger than Greg's own hand.

Greg had a difficult time believing that stallion daddy was really just a big baby himself.

For someone so powerful-for someone who can exert so much force over others-he was really just a giant gentle creature who enjoyed his own fetish.

If stallion daddy were an asshole, if he just enjoyed doing this to others because it gave him power trips or ego, Greg could have no problem disliking him-but this was different; it was like the stallion's own way of trust.

By letting Greg see him this way, the shire had made himself an equal; not a master or guardian. Both in diapers. Perhaps if it was a shared experience as opposed to something strictly happening to Greg alone, he could come to accept the big black and white stallion as his caretaker...

-Suddenly, Greg felt a little different-

The usual cheap padded cotton of his own disposable diaper was replaced with the cloth and plastic panties like the big horse wore.

It was hot, and the edges on his thighs itched a little bit, but Greg was willing to accept it, as long as he wasn't forced to use them-or at least not any time soon.

He tried to straighten out the wrinkled garment, adjusting the waist some as his eyes caught the reflective almond of the shires'. He stopped immediately, squeezing his buns against the cloth of his diaper and shivering.

"Greggie's anus smelled good as I was changing him. I liked it."

The horse snorted a teasing breath into Greg's face, proceeding to hug his plush close to his black furred chest and roll about on his back, plastic panties crinkling loudly, as the horse sighed in bliss and rubbed his face in the soft fabric of his stuffed animal.

Then to Greg's surprise, Stallion daddy tosses the stuffed animal and reaches for him instead, huggling him close to that dark heaving warm chest, giggling with joyful neighs

"Hmmm. I love my baby."

Greg felt both muscular arms clasped about his back as the big horse rocked side to side. Greg had his own arms against that big chest, placing his head on fur to hear the low beat of the shire's giant heart. Greg rubbed the soft haired and firm body in wonder and pleasure, his head restless against the black hairs of daddy's muscular pecs.

It felt so good, and somehow, Greg was learning to trust-love the big creature.

"Daddy..." Greg began uncertainly, his cheeks red from embarrassment. He didn't know how to ask, as it was such an awkward thing for him to say.

"Yes, Greggie?" Then he licked the human affectionately on his cheeks, rubbing his diapered bottom with firm strokes which made Greg sigh with bliss for a few moments; unable to concentrate on anything else.

"Daddy...I...I want..."

"It's okay. Shhhh...take your time, lovely little colt."

Greg felt himself melt confidently into the arms and strokes and fur of the warm friendly stallion, almost ready to collapse and fall into rest again, but his request burned through him; denying any sleep.

"Daddy...I want to mess myself for you...but I'm nervous."

The shire licked his face tenderly, the up and down heaves on the horse's chest hypnotic and lulling.

"I'll help you with a Bisacodyl suppository, if it is alright. The dose will be five times larger than normal, but it's for baby's own good, okay?"

Greg nodded shyly, cringing protectively against the silky black fur, shivering a little in apprehension and fear.

"If it's for my own good." Greg declared, consenting coyly with a cute wag of his large padded bum, to which the shire laughed gaily.

Greg wiggled as he felt the horse lift up the back of his diaper and plastic pants; a breath of fresh air blasting into the humidity of the normally closed diaper. Then the horse took something out of his own pillowcase; a clear thick thing which looked like a finger and was wrapped in a sandwich bag.

Removing it, he took it in one hand, reaching his other arm down the dark steamy depths of Greg's waiting cloth dipee, curving the suppository into position with ease and sliding the greasy self-lubricating piece into Greg's protesting ass, even as he felt the chemicals burn his anal rings as it slid through the stubborn opening.

"Now baby, trust in me, and I won't leave your side until this is all over."

And with that, stallion daddy dropped the dipee and panties back down with a light reassuring pat of his wide palm.

At first the heat was like a light candle deep inside his butt, begging to be let out. He continuously contracted his rectum to try to ignore the fiery sensation, and it worked for awhile. But slowly, the fire grew and spread like a horrible powerful blaze of undeniable loss of control. He squeezed his buns and rectum simultaneously to try to smother the force eating deep within, but each waking second as his body struggled and writhed on the shires' comforting fur, the suppository demanded to be released, and it was escaping with friends-the contents of his ass if he let it!

Tiny pecks of cramps like bird beaks echoed through his lower bowel, making him convulse further.

The urge itself was coming easily through his butt with the painful sizzling of the sun at close range. It was so intense to hold it in; why did Greg bother? It was only going to get worse until he lost all control and messed himself, anyway. Then Greg realized with horror that this was not so different than his own plight-by resisting the stallions, he only made things worse. By accepting his fate, things were better for him.

He felt as stallion daddy put one hand against his butt; ready to feel when Greg started filling out his diaper. The shire used his other hand to rub Greg's back and shoulder blades, nibbling softly on his ears, as Greg breathed hard through his teeth as his body rocked from the undeniable force of the laxative.

"Resisting a stallion is like resisting a laxative; you can get away with it for awhile, but eventually the pressure always builds up and gets worse until you lose." Greg observed, cringing with a grunt as he tried in vain with racking jerks of all his taut muscles to keep his diaper clean.

Then the sudden blast of his own rectum immediately pushed the contents of his bowels out into the cloth of his waiting dipee, as he panted hard with each new cramp and shove of his bum.

He actually began to sweat and pant hard through the rough ordeal!

Soon, he was empty, but his ass was still going; trying to desperately squeeze out anything, but he was vacated, and the urge to shit met with nothing more than emptiness and the occasional squirt of almost clear jelly-like rectal lining; which was not too serious as long as there was no blood or tears or perforations in the bowel.

Finally, Greg was exhausted-he felt as bad as his own shit-as he collapsed completely on the big horse with a deep loud sigh, his sweat dampening his hair and making his diapered butt and crotch itch almost unbearably.

"Daddy. I love you."

Then Greg fell into heavy exhausted sleep almost immediately.

......

The next day found Greg unawares. He had been rediapered with a fresh nappy, his hands and feet had been covered in silken light blue mitts, and he had been dressed in a shirt with a ufo on it.

He blinked his eyes several times at the horse standing above in his own nappy, holding a normal removable pacifier in his hand.

"Open wide baby." He said in a whisper, his eyes half closed adorably as he smirked with those big lips.

Greg, knowing the alternative, did not resist; allowing the big horse to put it in his mouth almost immediately.

"Good little foal. Let's have a fun breakfast. What would you like to eat?"

Greg shrugged uncertainly, rolling over to go back to sleep, to which the shire laughed heartily.

"Baby must be tired!. Okay, I will wake you up from naptime in a few hours."

Greg snorted lightly and went back to bed.

......

Greg awoke to tongue clicks and the sound of his name being called. His mouth was wide open and parched, the pacifier had fallen out and was now scratching against the back of his head like a hard lump. His mittens had been removed.

"Greggie..." The horse whispers gently, giggling coyly as he watched Greg stretch and yawn.

He looked up into the delicate amber eyes of the stallion and smiled, licking his chapped lips.

"Thank you for changing my dipee daddy."

The shire reached in and rubbed Greg's chin.

"Thank YOU for giving daddy something to change. I know how hard it is for you to want to mess yourself, and I am glad you did it as a present to me."

Greg rolled around a little. Enjoying the fresh thick nappy on his butt. It wasn't so bad or humiliating once you got used to it.

"Does baby want to watch the t.v. while I make lunch?" Stallion daddy cooed.

Greg nodded in response, sitting up in the crib; thick diaper and plastic panties making him look like a plump little baby pony without a tail.

"You are adorable! Here!"

The stallion lifted him out of the crib and carried him over to the playpen. Once inside, Greg noticed that Stallion daddy had installed a new t.v. into the wall; a nice medium-sized LCD with silver trim borders.

The horse handed him the remote (which had the battery compartment heavily taped over), turned on the flat screen, and left out the door.

Greg flipped through the channels, but saw that the t.v. skipped some; like they had been blocked or something. Eventually, he found that he could only get ten or so channels. One channel he could watch was CNN.

So, he sat there watching the news until daddy came back holding a plate and a mott's juice box, putting both on the picnic table.

"Time to e-"

Then the horse's eyes focused on what Greg was watching; a CNN documentary special on the crazy rantings of Kim Jong Il.

"No baby! Here, watch this instead." Then he reached in real fast and stole the remote right from Greg's hand, facing it at the t.v. and changing the channel to blue's clues.

"That bad man is too scary for baby. Give baby nightmares at beddie bye time tonight."

"Baby no wanna watch blue's clues." Greg protests.

Stallion daddy crossed his arms, looking a little ridiculous standing there in a giant horse sized nappy.

"Okay, stinky pants. What does Greggie wanna watch?"

"The A team?" Greg shyly offered.

"A team is too mean for baby. Why don't you sit in my lap while we watch daddy's favorite?"

Daddy's favorite? Now, Greg was intrigued. What show do horses in diapers like to watch. The stallion put a DVD into a player on a high wall shelf nearby, turning the channel on the t.v. to the VCD channel.

"What does daddy like?" Greg asks, curious.

The big horse took him out of the crib, set him on the floor in front of the LCD screen, and went to go get his lunch, sitting right behind him with a big hissing thump of his large diaper. Then he was lifted on top of daddy's lap, whom sat with his legs crossed.

The stallion snuggled close to the human on him, rubbing his satin furred muzzle all about Greg's face and upper torso, reaching about to hug the small man tight to his black chest in affectionate embrace, as he pointed the remote at the DVD player and pressed play.

"Here baby. I hope you enjoy it."

Then daddy blushed as he bounced Greg lightly on his silky dark thighs, taking a soft lick right up the man's back with his warm soft tongue.

On the screen, things started with the usual F.B.I. copyright warning crap and their prosecution policies and everything like that-then there were those stupid commercials for other videos or t.v. shows available.

Then stallion daddy's eyes were half-closed, and he was blushing and drooling, as it finally started.

"I always loved this show; it gave me such happy memories."

Greg smirked wryly; he should have already known what they would be watching, as different colored little horses raced each other; some with wings, some with horns-while a little pink dragon struggled to keep up.

"SpikeTM totally got gypped by those roomies." Greg mused, as the intro resolved into a giant rainbow with the title;

"My Little PonyTM."

1980's; old school-none of that new crap where the ponies look like pigs, almost.

"I always did wonder why he stayed. It must have been awkward for a dragon to hang out with a bunch of ponies." The shire observed.

Greg lay back into the warm fur and padded plastic diaper like a recliner, as the big horse whuffed his nostrils through his hair with tickling sensations of whiskers and breath.

"I liked WindwhistlerTM; she was the smartest one there. And her voice was really nice."

"You mean sexy." Stallion daddy teased.

"Not at eight years old!" Greg protests with a laugh.

The intro resolves into "The Revolt At Paradise EstateTM" episode, where they try to fix up their crumbling house.

"What cute little horses." Remarked the shire.

"I always did like horses." Then Greg frantically covered his mouth, blushing.

"I mean...watching the show was very interesting; I liked how they did the animation." He reiterated coyly, coughing.

Stallion daddy hugged Greg, bouncing him lightly on his thighs and giving an affectionate whicker.

"I KNEW there was a reason why I liked you. It wasn't so obvious when I watched your reactions, but when you come out and say it like that, I'm glad I got you as my foal."

Greg blushed as he looked frantically about. Finally, he picked up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich which was three times bigger than normal. On the one foot diameter plate was also a giant chocolate chip cookie.

He bit through the enormous sandwich trying to cover his shyness, almost choking it down a few times.

The shire placed his head on Greg's shoulder, looking him in the eye with his own.

"You don't have to be coy about it; we horses are graceful beautiful creatures."

But then the stallion laughed gently, each blow from deep within.

"Since baby loves daddy so much, perhaps he will submit to another thing I intend to do."

Greg only sighed as he ate; his joy, now, was only to please his caretaker with the obsidian black fur.

"Yes, daddy?" Then he shivered as the love and the affection for the big shire coursed through his small helpless human body.

"Just eat your lunch and watch t.v. with daddy. We'll do it later." The shire gently assures, rubbing those naked light-skinned arms softly in reassurance.

Greg went back to eating, easily consuming the sandwich, cookie, and pint-sized apple juice box with a loud burp, to which the horse laughed with much mirth.

They had watched the adventures of the ponies for an hour or so before stallion daddy finally asked for his favor.

"Time for Gweggie's butt plug!" Declared the horse with amusement.

Greg looked back apprehensively at the heaving muscles and the fibrous thick powerful neck, but he knew the horse would never hurt him.

All along, the stallion had known that Greg did not respond to pain; that he was a vessel of trust and sensitivity if only treated the right way.

"The effective dose of ex-lax I put in your cookie will activate in six hours from ingestion, but that is much too soon. I want to change your diaper in ten hours. If you let me plug you up, you won't be able to mess yourself unless I let you. We'll use a very thick one to make sure only I can remove it and it doesn't get expelled early by accident."

Greg could not help but drool and melt back into the horse submissively.

"Yes, daddy."

"Lie on the floor, baby. I'll do this as gently as I can, but I know you aren't used to being stretched like that."

Greg twisted about, rubbing his face all over the furred chest of the big horse, blushing and feeling like a slut, but unable to control the feelings.

Just like being diapered, loving a horse was also something that Greg was fondly getting used to.

He crawled slowly from the stallion's lap, careful not to put any weight on his broken leg, as he lay with his belly on the carpet, and his limbs all splayed out in surrender.

"Hmmm. What a delicious diapered rump you have. I had a delightful time fondling it during your two previous changing's." The stallion observed, peeling the back of his diaper and plastic panties down, baring his naked bottom to the suddenly refreshing cold air.

Stallion daddy licked along Greg's crack, making him shiver from the sudden pleasure.

THEN-

He felt that long muscular horse tongue dig into his anus as those big powerful hands held his buttocks to the side, digging so deeply that he felt the velvet slickness of the appendage slide hard and almost painfully against his prostate, making Greg squeeze his buttocks and thrust hard against the front of the diaper and floor with his quickly stiffening cock.

"Baby likes that, huh? I thought so. Do you want to cum, baby? Do you want me to let you cum in your dipee just this once?"

Greg drools from the assault of that tongue, worshipping the power of it's caress.

"Please daddy, let baby cum!" Greg begs, horny after days of sexual frustration and broken promises from a life before.

"If I let baby cum, you don't get a dipee change until after you mess yourself. Is that okay?"

"If you let baby cum, I will let daddy change me and make me mess anytime he wants."

Then when Greg heard the magic words, it almost made him blush, as he felt the tongue do wonderful things to his insides;

"Okay, baby, here comes the airplane!"

Then Greg's body shook from a massive bone-crippling tongue lashing and light finger-fucking; his ass hungry and horny and taking all of it with little resistance or pain, as the horse claimed Greg for his desires for all of eternity, even as Greg heard the dim audio of the t.v. above; of a little baby pony who loved her stroller more than anything.

Greg was a baby pony slut, loving every minute of it; almost oblivious to anything else.

......

Greg awoke minutes later, the front of his diaper all sticky and wet with his own cum, as he felt the big object stuffed up his bum; irremovable and reminding him of his sore butt with lingering burning wafts of cinnamon-like pain.

As he crawled on his elbows, something tickled his feet. He looked over to see a long black horsetail leading from a hole in the back of his diaper, and likely attached to the mildly uncomfortable girth of the giant latex plug in his rectum.

Greg was almost ashamed to have a tail longer than daddy's; talk about inadequacy issues; even if it WAS fake!

Two big arms flipped him over onto his back, as a white and black furred muzzle covered his belly and began to blow raspberries on the tender skin, making Greg laugh loudly from the tickling sensation of the big mouth and the flatulence noises.

Then the hands grabbed his sizable length of ersatz tail and tugged it gently, making Greg's butt throb with delight.

"Time for baby pony's tail brushies!"

Greg drooled with pleasure as each pass of the curry comb on his tail gave the plug a tiny tug; enough to rub him the right way; maybe to another orgasm if it lasted long enough!

Talk about stroking someone to climax!

"Here baby, you dropped this." Coyly and lovingly remarks the shire, putting the blue plastic of the pacifier back in his mouth.

Greg lay back, sucking on the binkie, and let the big horse do whatever he wanted, each inch of Greg's skin sung with pleasure and ecstatic need for attention.

Then daddy's special cookie hit-

Greg felt the mush collect and slosh around his colon and upper rectum, a little bit of cramping proceeding it all.

The human cringed involuntarily from the discomfort; the bowel movement tried to escape as it swirled through his insides with powerful horrible squirts of pain from the internal workings of his snaking lumen.

Stallion daddy stopped immediately, putting his ear to Greg's tummy and hearing the rumbling and grumbles from within.

"There's that cookie I promised you." The shire declared wryly, rubbing Greg's abdomen in reassuring caresses.

"Can Gweggie hold it for another two hours?"

Greg cringed, unsure if he could, as the serpent of messiness twirled through him, trying to escape.

"Let's watch some more of my favorite show."

Then the stallion picked him up and had Greg in his lap as before, but this time rubbing Greg's belly with slow massaging strokes in an attempt to temporarily placate the force within the human's bowels...

But all Greg wanted to do was lie down and try to ignore the pain-perhaps by napping.

When the stallion saw the human roll over in helplessness right in his lap, trying to sleep, the horse nodded, and took Greg to his crib.

"Okay, sweet thing. I'll try to help you rest through it."

The horse climbed the rails easily, putting Greg down and placing the comforter over him, kissing Greg on the face, even as the human groaned out.

Greg thought he could handle the pain of the horrible diarrhea sensation if he found a way to rest and ignore it.

Greg felt the hot fur of the horse against his supple human body, taking much pleasure in the simplicity of his equine daddy's embracing loving arms.

It was a restless two hours of tummy rubbies and watching the mobile above twirl to the upbeat noise of the t.v. still active with what sounded like a MLP marathon.

Here comes the airplane...

......

Greg awoke to the sensation of something rattling. At first he thought it was daddy's breathing, but as he was stirring, he realized he was moving!

Looking frantically about, he saw with some fright that the big horse was pushing him around in a giant baby buggy, a soft pastel blue bonnet tied to his head, pacifier in his mouth, and comforter drawn well up to his chin. For a moment all he could think of was the thick plug up his butt, but soon the curiosity of their destination struck him witless.

"I'm going to share my new baby with the neighbors." The shire wryly remarked, making Greg's cheeks burn with embarrassment, helpless to do anything about it except lie back and be a baby out for a stroll with daddy.

He wanted to ask what was going on, but the pacifier was strapped on. He wanted to take out the pacifier, but he had mittens over his hands which he was helpless to remove. He wanted to kick off his thick hot comforter, but his booties over his feet gave him no traction to do so; Greg was truly helpless to the great equine.

"What's this?" Remarked an amused voice.

Greg looked into the rainbow hued shining eyes of a curious white furred ivory horned unicorn stallion with a long braided beard/goatee. Under the intensity of those interested eyes, Greg wanted to hide.

"Ah, hey there, Rovas. This is the new baby that Dr. Bigluv left in my care. Isn't he the cutest wittle pony colt?" Remarked stallion daddy with obvious pride.

"Can I take a peek of his wittle dipee?" Enquired Rovas with a lecherous chuckle, pointing down into the carriage at Greg with one of his hoof-like fingertips.

"Sorry, Rovas. I don't think my baby would appreciate that too much." Warned stallion daddy in a firm tone, his black ears back.

"I...see." Rovas remarked, put off by the sudden threatening tone of the shire.

To Rovas's departing withers, stallion daddy remarked; "A nasty fellow. He hides behind elegance and the beauty of his species, but his heart is blacker than a shadow's worth of coal dust. Don't worry, little foal, I won't let anyone like 'Rovas the rapist' near you." Then he gave an affirmative gust of his nares.

A few more minutes, and numerous curious horny staring equines later, stallion daddy came to the clinic of Dr. Bigluv.

The pure black stallion was pleased to receive both of them with much starkly visible joy and haste, the amusement most obvious in his horsy complexion.

"Baby has a present for you, but we need three glycerin micro-enemas for Gweggie to get it ready. Would you go get them while I prep him?"

The thoroughbred shrugged his withers with a laugh, turning to his top cabinet above the sink and taking down a green and white cardboard box that contained four of the little burning laxative doses. He dumped three into his palm, and put the last back into the cabinet with a soft shut of the wooden black door. He held them out as if to hand them over to stallion daddy.

"It has been some time since you worked as my nurse with a specialty in effecting incontinence. How does the new role of parenting go for you?" Bigluv declared, his thoughts heavy from early memories.

"It's fantastic. We both know that how I have it with Gweggie right now is the way I like it."

"Daddy likes himself a little boy?" Bigluv mused, resting his hands on the rim of the stroller, peering in.

"Not to have a real one, as we both know I am quite gay, and let's be realistic; what kind of place is this for a kid I would adopt?"

Bigluv shivered, not oblivious to that horror.

"This place is barely suitable for the adult humans we capture." Bigluv admitted with a haunted grunt.

"Perfect for a horde of horny stallions, but hardly the place for the innocent-we both agreed on that-and all horses living here agreed on that; we only take fully mature adult men, and we lure them here with promises of sex; we just do a bait and switch-instead of them fucking horny women, we fuck horny men!" Remarked the shire with a wry chuckle.

Then Greg felt as the big horse pulled down the thick sheet, exposing his almost naked diapered body to the air. Then, right in the stroller, those big arms turn him over and pull down his dipee and plastic panties-then prepare to pull out the plug.

"Ready with those Dr.? When I take his plug out, I want you to squirt all those into him as soon as you can-then I'll pull his diaper back up so we can wait for the big messing to begin before we change him."

The doctor grinned, only the white of his incisors and eyes visible in the dim light of the clinic amongst his black furred naked body.

Greg blushed as daddy tore the wide butt plug from his tight greedy ass with a gasp of his grasping anus, the plug is soon replaced, one after another, with three squirting-burning nozzles, the liquid-like fire melting painfully and irresistibly through his diarrhea filled caverns.

So this was why the shire wanted him to wait before evacuating his bowels of the ex-lax cookie.

Daddy pulls up Greg's diaper with a playful snap upon his tender hips and lower back, patting his baby lightly on the head as the two stallions patiently waited and made conversation.

Because Greg's hole had been stretched so well by the plug, he had very little control over his ass except to squeeze his buttocks together and hope to hold the force briefly back-like daddy preferred.

Yes, the past day of living as the baby of a horse had taught him that the shire enjoyed a genuine bout of incontinence instead of one so inclined to expel the laxative early when they still had control and thus ruining the effect.

Greg knew it, now; in true incontinence of the bowel, there is no control, and no chance to hold anything back-everything was going to empty into the nappy, no ifs ands or butts.

In a strange way, by consenting to these oddities of the shire, they had shared something special between each other. Something Greg could look back to in later years without regret-

Like clockwork, the laxatives distracted him from his thoughts and made him think of their powerful effect on his insides, but he also realized that he had more control over his body, and glycerin was nicer than the Bisacodyl which had been shoved in him earlier.

Be thankful for that; glycerin doesn't hurt so much. In fact-

Greg blushed shyly with the next unbidden thought-

He felt happy with the idea of soiling himself for the shire who was his loving caretaker.

"Wow. Your charge has an amazing capability for control. I'm almost jealous." Bigluv joked with a laugh.

Stallion daddy stroked Greg's chin with soft affectionate rubs of his big furred hand.

"He's doing it because he loves me. Smart little bastard figured it out."

To Bigluv's shrug of incomprehension, stallion daddy snorted a blustery gust and gave a chuckle.

"He is going to wait until he has ABSOLUTELY no control-then he will mess himself like a shitting machine. It takes true incontinence to completely empty the rectum and colon; there won't be anything left in him by the time we get to changing him."

The doctor smiled wryly, his eyes twinkling.

"We could always fix that with a soapsuds enema. You're never squeaky clean until you take an enema."

The shire cast the black stallion a glare which inferred that the glycerin and the following diaper change would be enough for Greg; more humiliation would be unneeded and prove cruel, particularly since they knew Greg was behaving well beyond their expectations.

Greg shivered as he felt the heat melt through him like a firestorm, every ten seconds his rectum convulsing; ready to expel whatever nasty things were in his ass-

Give it time-

Soon, his ass wanted relief almost every second, and his very butt burned hotly like a ton of cinnamon oil had been poured in there.

He cringed, and his muscles were restless with strain and concentration as he resisted onwards to the true state of incontinence, struggling the whole way to keep his rectum from going off too soon and ruining it for both him and the shire waiting above with his grin and his kind patient eyes.

Stallions are like laxatives; the longer you can resist their power, the more fulfilling it feels once you capitulate.

Capitulate...

Capitulate...

Capitulate...

It was time-

The two stallions could not hide their amusement when they heard the loud wet noise of poopy farts in the closed space of the clinic; of the grunts and straining noises of Greg's body; of the sight of a diaper which was quickly growing in bulk and contents along with a pungent foul odour.

"That was certainly fun to watch. What should I do with the movie I took of this little event?"

Then the doctor pointed up towards the ceiling at a camera.

"Burn it or keep it to yourself doctor; this was a special private show just for the two of us. If you show that movie to anyone, not only will it cheapen the original event, it will also make Greg look like an undignified whore."

Dr. Bigluv crossed his arms, sighing with a loud snort.

"Am I given to understand that you are getting overprotective of this lecherous over-dignified bitch of a human?"

"I made him a promise. If he agreed to be sincere in trying to please us, then I made the inference that the stallions of this compound would be much nicer to him."

"How could I forget; Our little 'mercy for man-fucking' program. Okay, I can't promise where that movie will end up, but I think we need to change our big baby, don't we?" He remarked, pointing at Greg, whom was shivering and laying on his side with a diaper which he had completely filled with his mess.

"True. It would be cruel of us to leave him there in his filth after all the things we did to him, he consenting the whole way to our kinky activities."

The shire took him easily from the carriage, setting him down-back facing the gyno/examination table.

Greg watched as daddy took a fresh nappy, powder, and petroleum jelly from the diaper bag affixed to his strong left arm-even as the doctor pulled down his plastic panties and recoiled almost immediately from the nasty smell of his messy diaper.

"What did you feed him? That's more potent than most of the consistencies of scat I've dealt with." Bigluv grunted in disgust, tossing his mane and blowing his nares in an attempt to remove the rank odor.

"You're one to talk. Nobody ever wants to use the bathroom right after you go number two. At least with a human, there is less crap to deal with." Stallion daddy countered, rolling his eyes.

Bigluv undid the safety pin, unfurling the corners of the cloth diaper, and he took his time in looking at the mess, treating the whole affair like Pandora's box; curious to see what the big deal was, but also afraid that something bad would happen.

At Bigluv the thoroughbred's hesitation, stallion daddy bumped him playfully out of the way with his big diapered tush, easily changing Greg with the removal of the used nappy, cleaning the area with hygienic wipes, rubbing the jelly into Greg's buttocks and crotch, and powdering the whole area in a thick white blanket like snow.

"Here complainer, wanna finish this up?" Daddy teased, swishing his short little tail and shaking his big padded bottom.

The doctor grinned in response, "That honor I leave to you; you did most of the work already."

The shire shrugs, putting a new diaper under Greg, fastening it together, and pulling the plastic back into place, smiling over his work.

As Greg felt the shire pick up his tired body and put him in the stroller, rolling away back to the nursery, he couldn't suppress the grin on his face from the present stallion daddy had left his old boss; a used diaper right on top of his nice clean countertop.

Greg napped, resting easy in the knowledge that he had someone in this messed up place that cared about him.

......

Greg awoke with a sleepy yawn in the crib, but the lights had been turned out, and a big snoring affectionate presence had his vulnerable body embraced in it's powerful protecting arms.

Even in sleep, the love and protection of the giant being never ended.

Greg crept close to the big calmly gusting nostrils of the shire, kissing the horse on his whiskered muzzle before he collapsed eagerly to the contentment of that furred heaving chest.

"Night Daddy."

That night, Greg had dreamed big.