FSE

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I usually hated night shift. All the fucking crazies came out at night, especially on a Saturday night. As a relatively junior police constable, I got the worst shifts and the least overtime. That's how it worked. Still, I kind of liked my job. It had its moments.

Like when we arrested this guy and his mate; a cute deer boy, totally off his face and drooling into the groin of his best mate, a wolf. The wolf had passed out in the gutter too, another college boy in a long string who couldn't handle his liquor. Deer boy woke up in the patrol car and managed a drunken series of apologies while his friend managed to barf out the window. My partner, a stern faced mare, just chewed them both out and promised a world of hurt. She was mostly talk though, I knew that by now. Nobody was more likely to give the cute guys a second chance than Senior Constable Akland.

Besides, what we both knew (but the guys didn't) was that their friends had left them there unconscious, laughing while they took pictures of deer boy with his muzzle buried in his mate's crotch. They were in for some serious ribbing tomorrow anyway; and some serious disillusionment with their 'mates.' Perhaps punishment enough.

Akland had put up with my newbie mistakes more than enough times in the last couple of years. As a wet behind the ears bull straight out of high school, the police academy may have taught me many things but I was still lacking a lot of common sense. The mare had taken me under her metaphorical wing and mostly knocked the stupid out of me. Mostly. I wasn't a natural rule breaker; in fact, I was a bit of a goody bull. When I transgressed, it was more stupidity than rebellion or anything else. Something my partner was all too willing to tell me.

She knew how much I liked the cute guys too. There are rarely many secrets you can keep from your partner in the force. She worked out early on that I was gay. It didn't bother her at all; she just smiled when I confessed, and patted my horns, and told me she thought so. And then joked that she liked the cute boys almost as much as me, and as long as I shared some, she was alright with that. I sighed in relief and relaxed really for the first time since the academy; maybe it could be ok after all.

After school, I had been pretty down, and the atmosphere in the Academy was not one that encouraged me to feel like I belonged any more than I had at school. I knew I was gay early on, and managed to have fun without drawing attention to myself until year 11. Then it all went to shit though.

Ahhh that stupid, twinky nerd fox Declan. I knew he was bad news, and a drama queen of the worst sort, but there weren't many gay guys in school to choose from. I couldn't have what I really wanted, so I settled for second best. And Declan was definitely second best. Still, the nerd seemed happy enough to have a big stud jock bull boyfriend and willing to keep my secret as price of having his own bullcock to play with.

When I broke it off with him after one too many emo passive-aggressive stunts, the fucker outed me publicly, complete with photos. I should have seen it coming, I suppose. I survived; as a jock football player and biggest guy in the school, I didn't have to worry too much about being beaten up, but the effects were more subtle. Withdrawal and exclusion hurts as much as a fist sometimes. My grades tanked, and I was lucky to be able to squeak into the police Academy. Not the life I had imagined; but the one I got to lead anyway.

Now I was kind of at peace with things, or as much as I could be. Until I walked into the holding area, and there he was.

We had just booked in our haul of drunk college boys and walked them to the holding cell, when I stopped almost mid-step and stared. My partner realised something was up and stopped too, looking back in surprise, and the deer boy I was escorting kind of whined and shook as if he was expecting the full telephone book treatment or something. I patted his antlers to distract myself, then met Akland's eyes and shook my head. She shrugged and continued on, with me following. Nothing was going to repair my sense of equilibrium though. That face had dredged up so much in a brief flash of recognition.

Nick. Why the fuck did it have to be that fucking pony?

"Akk... um... can you give me a minute?"

The mare stared at me hard, as she deposited the two drunk boys on a seat in the cage.

"Sure... a minute."

I headed for the desk Sergeant first, to get the details. Nicholas Webber; criminal damage, resisting arrest, public intoxication, breach of the peace, a real hamburger with the lot. And that was just the start. The Sarge pointed me in the direction of Murphy, and I gave a slight inner sigh. That doe was a real ballbreaker at the best of times. I shrugged and went anyway, finding her next to a desk in booking rapping at the computer. She looked up when I approached, frowned, and went back to the screen.

"Whadda you want, Farinetti?"

I gulped and pressed on, regardless. The door had opened, and I realised I needed to go through it whatever the cost.

*****

"Where the fuck have you been, noob?"

I scowled at the mare, and she ignored my bristling anger and just looked back with irritation.

"I need a favour."

She dropped the irritated look at least, and nodded. I never asked for favours. Well, hardly ever anyway, and only in dire circumstances. The whole police force ran on them though, and I was always good at delivering when my turn came, and Akland had been on the receiving end a few times. She breathed out and smiled, probably happy for once to be able to repay a favour. She never liked being in debt to a junior, I knew. I was probably giving her enough to have it over me forever, but I didn't care.

"Can you look after these two?"

She gave a double take and a soft whinny.

"Um... sure, but why the fuck should I?"

"I... one of the guys in holding. I know him. He's an old friend, and... well, I need to talk."

Her expression softened a touch, and she gave me an affectionate rub on my horns. I tried to pull back and squirmed; it always reminded me of my mother, and she knew I hated it. That was one of the reasons she did it probably, and it kind of rankled a bit, but I also knew she had a slight soft spot for me, part motherly, part something entirely different. If it got me what I wanted now, I would suck it up.

"Not going to do anything stupid are you, Faz, my sweet little meatball?"

"No, Akk... just... talk..."

I was rewarded with a big grin from those flexible equine lips, and my partner bowed a little mockingly and pointed towards the back wall as she chuckled like a demon.

"Yes, m'lord bull. The little woman will take care of the housework. Use Interview Seven; I'll make sure nobody disturbs you."

My grunt of appreciation was almost convincing, and I headed for the holding cage with the mare's laughter in my ears. Laughter; I knew a lot about laughter.

Hey cow! Sweet little cow, such a fag. Suck me off cow, you know you want it!"

"Marco?!"

I had reached the holding cage without realising it. This time, the distracted equine recognised me. I could see he wasn't in great shape. His polo shirt was stained, his jeans a bit ripped at the knee, and his eyes were bloodshot and wide. He had the look; the same look as those two boys we had just brought in. My talk with Murphy had proved instructive; I knew enough about my old friend's predicament. And his weaknesses.

"Prisoner Webber."

I kept it flat and non committal. To the still slightly drunk pony, it probably sounded like an executioner's voice.

"P...prisoner...?"

"That's what you are, Webber. For now."

"Please! Marco! Please, get me out of here! Please!"

I managed a scowl then, and shook my head, letting my nosering jiggle in an emphatic negative. The poor dun coloured stallion suddenly realised that deliverance wasn't coming in the form of his old bull pal, and his ears flopped back and his eyes widened in shock. Fuck, he was cute when he looked scared. Always had been...

"You are in deep shit, Webber. Come with me, we need to have a little chat."

I yanked the horse off his seat. He stumbled a bit, not used to walking with his hands cuffed behind his pack. The perp walk is an art, one that takes practice. He trotted uncertainly all the way to Interview Seven, the last interview room in a dusty corner of the main holding area. Seldom used, it always had an extra grim feeling with dust and cobwebs for companions. Nobody liked it, and I knew I would not be disturbed, especially with Akland covering my back.

When I closed the door, he looked hopefully at the seat. I grunted and shook my head.

"Stand. If you know what's good for you."

He gulped, eyes darting round the room. I could almost scent the fear, on top of other things. Sweat. Booze. Pony musk... ahhh, pony musk. He always smelled incredible.

I remembered the first time I really became aware of his scent. He was staying overnight at my place, before a football match the next morning. We had this tradition, where we would do some weights and some practice together the night before a game, and stay at my place or his together so only one parent had to make the drive to the game the next day. We would stay up late, shoot the breeze, watch stupid shit on a laptop and get to sleep about 2 a.m. Those were some of the happiest nights of my life; now they were the saddest.

One night, I remembered laying there and I couldn't sleep. My nose crinkled, and I opened my nostrils wide and drank in this deep rich funk. It was sweet, and tickled my nose, and as I gulped it down I felt my cock swelling to full leaking hard-on. As a sleeping Nick tossed off the bedclothes in the spare bed across from me, I got a huge burst of that scent, and a full on view of the tent in his briefs, the flare visible through the fabric. I jacked off so hard that night, I just about hit the ceiling all while the sexy pony stud snoozed on oblivious.

Now I smelled it again. Still rich, still potent, if not more so. I let out a soft moo and a groan, remembering.

"M...Marco?"

He was staring now, uncertain and frightened. Ahhh, my poor pony.

"Let's see... theft of government property, criminal damage, and resisting arrest... are you fucking stupid, pony?"

He hung his head in shame, and then came up pleading, big brown eyes wide and sincere.

"I'm sorry! Really! It was a scavenger hunt, and we were all a bit... well, wasted. The road signs were worth like 10,000 points each!"

"Great. So, you and your college buddies get to win the scavenger hunt. Congratulations. And the patrol car?"

"Um... well, the lights off a patrol car were the top scoring item. I had a few too many beers at the Clyde, and it seemed like an awesome idea..."

"Yeah, and apparently you tried to knock them off while the cops were still in the car! Even for you, Nick, that's fucking stupid."

He had his head down unable to look at me, a picture of equine misery.

"Awww fuck... I was wasted man. You know how it is..."

"No, I don't, Nick. You never got wasted with me, remember? By the time you got huge into parties, I was that fucking loser faggy cow."

Now he got the message, and I saw it register in his beer sozzled brain: The shit he was in, and the fact I remembered every little betrayal from my erstwhile best bud.

"How much... how much shit _am_I in?"

"Well, the Sarge wants to throw the book at you. Criminal damage, theft of government property. Those signs aren't cheap, you are looking at three thousand each."

"Holy fuck!"

"Yeah, holy fuck indeed, pony. That bumps it into mandatory sentencing territory, indictable class A. Criminal record, lucky if you avoid jail time. It's not the signs that seal the deal though..."

His eyes widened into dinner plates as I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small plastic bag. The small plastic bag containing green plant matter contrary to the controlled substances act.

"If only they hadn't found this in your pocket..."

His head was bent down again, and now he was crying.

"Ohhh, fuck, man. I'm going to get kicked out of college... I'm so screwed. And you know what my Dad's like, he'll... well, you know. Please, you have to help me! Please!"

"So, you really want help from a faggy cow do you?"

"Please! I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say!"

"Then do exactly as I say! And maybe, just maybe, I can help you out."

He looked almost pathetically grateful then. I smiled, as predatory a smile as a bull can muster, and in his alcohol induced haze he didn't recognise it for what it was. I had the taste though; power, lust, revenge. Pony had been delivered like a present, tied up with a bow. It would be churlish to turn it down...

"Stand still, and don't move an inch pony. I'm going to pat you down to check for contraband."

"Um... the officer already *owww!*..."

I slapped his ass, hard. It was a sublime ass, firm and muscled, and the resounding crack was almost as satisfactory as his startled cry. I gripped his mane tight, and he couldn't fight back, with his hands cuffed. All he could do was stare into my eyes with fear and submission taking hold. His ears flattened nicely. Good.

"Did I ask for comment?"

Silence.

"You may speak!"

"Um, no... sir..."

"Good, you are learning. Always a mystery to me how you got a good enough score in year 12 to get into uni, Nick. You were always thick; yet here I am, a dumb cop, and you are going to be an accountant. Fuck, I hope nobody ever uses your services, or the Feds are going to be all over their ass. Least I wasn't dumb enough to try to boost the lights off a cop car with the cops inside. Stupid fucking pony..."

He whined, a sort of high pitched whinny, looking at me for something, even a hint of sympathy. I wasn't having it, not yet. Instead, I was high on anticipation of what was to come.

"Now, still..."

My hands slid under his polo shirt, and I felt the skin of his belly. He grunted, but stood still like a good horse. I could feel his muscles clench though, and fuck they felt fine.

"Been working out still I see, Nick?"

"Um... yeah... the uni gym is pretty good... ahhhhh!"

I had slid my hands up, over his belly, across his chest. Plump with muscle, soft with fur, until I found his nipples. They had swelled even more than I remembered, a pair of perfect erect pony nips that still haunted my dreams. I gave his left nip a rub and he gasped, then pinched it between my fingers, and his eyes bugged, and he whinnied. He felt so good; stronger than when I last touched him, bigger, more powerful. But so was I , and he was in my power. My sheath burned as I rubbed him without mercy, and he stared straight ahead in terror and shame.

"You always liked touching your nipples, if I recall..."

His embarrassed whinny was priceless. Ahh, that whinny; the first time I heard it was still one of my favourite jack off fantasies. I had woken up about 5 a.m. with a huge piss hard-on and a full bladder. As I wondered if I could get back to sleep, I registered the sounds of squelching and rubbing from the bed across from me. Peeking through slitted eyes, I caught my first sight of another guy jacking off; my pony had his eyes closed, muzzle open and tongue out, and he was squeezing his nipple hard as he frantically rubbed his erect pony cock. I watched, fascinated, as his flare suddenly spread and throbbed and he let out a muffled nicker, and suddenly a spurt of creamy white jizz shot from his tip about three feet in the air. Just as it splattered all down his chest and belly, the next one shot even higher, droplets landing on his balls and legs. I watched every spurt, on and on until he finished, and then his eyes opened and he saw the glint of mine as I watched, and he went rigid.

That was when I heard his embarrassed whinny. It was so fucking cute. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, and he got up fast and headed for the bathroom to clean up. While he was away, I gripped my own aching bull cock and it only took a few strokes for me to unload all over my t-shirt and be back to feigning sleep when he returned. I had rapidly pulled the t-shirt off and balled it up and thrown it into the laundry hamper, a dripping mess of bull seed standing out like some scent beacon. I heard him stop beside it when he returned and sniff loudly, but he didn't say anything. We never spoke about it afterwards.

I had broken the spell now though, a few years late.

"You liked watching, didn't you, Marco."

He was staring at me now, while I grinned.

"Fuck yeah. You were so hot ,pony. So... fucking... hot..."

Each word brought a hard pinch on his nipples, and the pony tried to contain himself, but the last drew a loud nicker as I pinched and twisted, and he fell against me. I could feel his heart beating fast, so beautiful.

I didn't want to give him much time to recover though. I reached for his jeans, and he stiffened.

"Gotta complete the search, pony..."

His belt buckle unhooked, and I pulled his 501's down a pair of perfect pony thighs. Then his Calvins, still the same grey briefs I remembered. I always loved watching him in the change rooms after football, pulling off his jock, putting on those grey briefs. Something about the way they hugged his ass and his package, like a present that almost looked better under the Christmas tree, all wrapped and mysterious. I knew what was under the wrapping too though, and I could see it all outlined and imagine it under the fabric. I got used to staring, openly even, too cocky then to think anyone could imagine I was gay. He caught me a couple of times and just laughed it off. He always gave his tail an extra swish though, when he had his ass pointed to me. I liked to imagine it was for my benefit.

"M... Marco... p... please..."

"Shhh, pony... you want to get out of this, don't you? So let me do what I have to..."

*Whinny!*

I cupped his perfect sheath. Always so fine, the lips wide and inviting, skin perfect black velvet like his sack. My hand slipped down, jacking as he whimpered, and I cupped his heavy balls and squeezed slowly.

"You liked squeezing these too, I remember..."

He gave another embarrassed whinny, and I laughed loud now, while he blushed. Yeah, I'd seen that too. One night, both of us drunk on my dad's Glenfiddich, we were watching porn on Yifftube and laughing at how skanky all the hoes were, when we came across a hot clip with a sexy doe being pounded by a big hunky bull. I watched the bull, loving the sight of his huge sack swinging back and forward as he ploughed her. I cupped my own sack under the bedclothes, feeling the weight. I was well on the way then, even at 16, to having a set any bull would envy, and they always boiled with unspent cum when Nick was around. As I ached to do more, I realised my mate was totally silent.

I looked across, and realised he had his cock out, staring wide eyed at the screen. He noticed me noticing, and was about to tuck himself away in embarrassment when I laughed it off and pulled my own length out. By mutual unspoken agreement, we went at it, both watching the screen, neither acknowledging that we were jacking off together. I watched the porn imagining I was the bull, but instead of the doe, I was ploughing Nick's tight pony ass. At the last second, I let my eyes wander, to see him squeezing his sack hard as he jacked the flare of his big horsehood, precum drooling from the tip. I lost it, suddenly, spraying us both and the poor laptop with a mammoth load of bull milk. He saw me staring at him just as he climaxed too, covering his chest with fresh streaks of seed as his eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

We never discussed that, either. It was the last time he slept over before I got outed, and his dad forbade him to associate with the 'disgusting pervert' bull. He hadn't fought it, just shrugged and ignored me. Except when he led the taunting in the locker room of course.

Hey cow! Sweet little cow, such a fag. Suck me off cow, you know you want it!"

"Tell me Nick.. how's it feel, to have the faggy cow gripping your balls?"

"Ohhhh, God..."

"Well, no need to wait any longer... I know you've been waiting for this a while, pony."

He nickered loudly as he felt me slide a finger into his sheath. It was so warm and wet, and I pulled my finger out to lick off the residue of pony musk before returning.

"Got to check thoroughly, pony..."

"Oh God, please..."

"Please, what? Please play with your magnificent pony cock? As you wish, Nick..."

"Ahhhh!"

I slid a second finger into his sheath, spreading his lips before diving in to touch his cock, the head already leaking and filling with blood. I teased the piss slit and circled his flare, and like a good stallion, he dropped, the pink and black mottled mass of cock spreading from his lips until it swayed in the air and hardened as I stroked.

"No need to be embarrassed, pony. I've seen this before remember..."

He begged me with his eyes. I just smiled... then leaned in for a treat. My muzzle locked on his left nipple and suckled while I slowly jacked his length, and the cuffed and humiliated pony just shuddered and groaned and begged me to stop. I was beyond stopping now. His tip leaked like a tap, covering my hand in sticky horse precum, and the room filled with the peculiar sound of a long wet pony cock being stroked, just as I remembered when I woke up that morning all those years ago, the slurping squelching erotic sound of pony pleasuring. This time, it was me doing the jacking though, and a mortified pony could only stand there and take it, his tail swishing behind as his body responded to my touch.

"Liking it aren't you, Nick."

"No!"

"Don't lie, pony, or I'll let Murphy send you to the remand centre with the drug dealers and the other garbage..."

"Please, Marco!"

"Then admit it..."

"Arghhhh!"

I gripped his mane, pulling back as his eyes widened, then I pushed him forward and down, bent over the interview table. His ass looked so inviting, and I used my hooves to spread his legs as far as his jeans would allow. One hand entwined in his tail and I pulled it up roughly, ignoring his nickers of protest. I got a perfect view of his ass then, and I almost came at the sight. It was every bit as good as I remembered.

He had been teasing me for months. After the first time I caught him jacking off at my place, and before our brain shattering mutual masturbation session. It started innocently enough, a sly wink in the changerooms after practice, an obvious poke of his jock-clad ass towards me. This time though, he was in an unusually playful mood, and an unusually sexual one.

I was watching him, as I always did, and he knew I was. He looked behind and gave me that wink with those big brown eyes. Then he slid is jock strap off, and his top, standing naked facing his locker. I held my breath, gasping softly as he stood there, and then my eyes widened as he lifted one hoof onto the low wooden bench in front of the lockers and lifted his tail.

The stance opened his ass up, and I saw everything: A big fat pony pucker, muscled and sweet; a long velvet black perineum; and a pair of dancing fat balls. Then the final present; he dropped, and I got to see his fat cock hanging down between his legs, the flared end swinging like a pendulum.

He looked back at me, then down to my obvious bulging groin. My jock strap never did much of a job of containing my cock if I was unfortunate enough to pop wood during training. Now it failed me again, and Nick saw it and winked again and broke into a huge grin before he turned to his locker to retrieve his street clothes.

Now I saw that ass again, but this time, I was in charge. And it was even better; the muscled mounds even larger, perfectly round, with just a hint of cute dimple at the sides. The deep dark musky crevice of his cleft begged to be touched, and as I held him down with a hand on his neck, I flared my nostrils to drink in his scent. It was there alright, the scent of aroused pony. Thick, rich, sweet musk, and sweat, sheath and balls and tailhole. I held my other hand to my muzzle, coated in thick pony precum and sniffed, then reached out my tongue to lick one finger and sample that intoxicating taste. Then I reached a decision, as my pony struggled against the tabletop.

"You will admit it, Nick..."

"Never!"

His cry was stifled, but he huffed out short breaths and tensed. I had touched his tailhole, circling the muscled ridge of his pucker with my precum-slickened digits.

"Better complete the search for contraband then pony... and I promise I will only enjoy this as much as you do."

"AHHHHHHHH!"

His hot hole spread reluctantly, but it spread. Two fingers split him wide, and I slid in to the knuckle, then in as far as I could go as he writhed and bucked and pleaded. God he felt so good, hot and tight. I teased him, wriggling my fingers, pulling back to the tip then ramming in hard, spreading them wider to stretch his anus, then starting a slow steady finger-fucking motion as his tunnel clenched hard and twitched and shook. His cries turned to whimpers, turned to sighs, then moans, and I realised I had found the swollen nub of pony flesh, his little prostate, and started milking it with my fingers. He started pushing back onto my thrusts, trying to take my fingers in deeper. I felt him clench hard, tight, once. Then again.

"Not so fast, pony."

"Noooooooooo!"

I ripped my fingers out hard, without warning, as he lay there panting with his head resting on the table, his eye wide and staring at me. His hole winked at me, inviting, and I wasn't about to pass up this invitation. My own belt clicked open, and I unzipped my uniform trousers and hefted my aching cock and balls from their confinement, my boxers nicely pushing them up and out as I tucked the elastic under my scrotum. My balls churned, and I leaked so much. I almost whimpered myself as I pressed my tip to his pucker.

"I've waited so long for this, pony. So long..."

It wasn't a scream, or a cry. It was a long sighing moaning gurgle, sort of ahhhhhhhhhhgggg. I drove in all the way in one thrust, all the way to the hilt until my balls nestled against his soft velvet taint, and I felt my cock gripped by the tightest hottest hole I had ever filled. My pony. Always my pony.

I bent over him, gripping his shoulders, and nuzzled against his neck. He had his ears flat, and I nibbled them playfully as I pulled my cock back nice and slow, then drove in again, all the way, hilted in my perfect pony. And again. And again. Always a fraction faster, always a fraction harder, but still gentle. His hole still clenched, painfully tight, but he took all I had to give, and I felt him begin to open for me, spreading and stretching, his anus moulding itself to the outline of my cock. I began to fuck harder, and whisper in his ear.

"I never dreamed you could feel this good, Nick. All those years, I jacked off imagining this moment, the feel of you. You are so much better than I could have imagined. So hot and tight; can you feel me inside you, pony? Yes? Does it feel good? I can feel that it does, and hear it, you should hear your moans, pony, you sound like one of those girls you used to fuck in high school when she took your cock. Like that time we went camping together with the guys, before you burnt me off and you brought along Alison, that hot tigress...

"She sounded like you do now when you fucked her by the river. Yes, I heard you two, and saw you... that's what you wanted pony, when you told me what you were up to. You were showing off for me, and showing me you were a real stud. I knew you were a real stud already, pony, and out of reach. Did you know I loved you then? Was that why you fucked Alison in front of me, pony? Was it?"

He just moaned, and whinnied, and groaned while I ploughed his ass. But now I leaned right over him, my chest on his back and arms, and bit his neck, hard, and demanded an answer. Any answer.

"Was it? Answer me, pony! Was it?"

"Yessss..."

"Oh, sweet pony... so why the fuck did you keep teasing me and make me want you more..."

I felt his hole suddenly twitch, and I pulled him up by the mane until he was almost standing, facing the wall and the one way mirror. We could see it all in the mirror now, every detail of our coupling, from my broad body in uniform, bulging with muscle as I rode his ass, to the twitch of his long pony cock as it teetered on the edge. I bucked my hips, hard, and bit gently on his neck. He let out a long whinny of pleasure, and precum spurted from his tip.

"I still love you, pony, even after everything you did. You cunt..."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

One more thrust, one longer plunge into his depths. His battered prostate pulsed, his hole clenched and opened, and I saw the most beautiful sight of all, my pony with his head back and eyes closed in a paroxysm of pleasure, as his cock fountained out a torrent of cum all over the table. He painted the surface in his seed as I ground my hips against his ass, then I bent him over again and rubbed his chest all over the sticky mess as I pounded his hole seeking my own release. It didn't take long, and I bellowed like a bull charging a matador as I filled my gorgeous pony with my own load.

I lay over him, panting hard in the aftermath. I realised he was shaking, then I realised he was doing something else. My pony was crying. Ahhh, revenge... be careful what you wish for. Before I could speak though, he did.

"I knew. And when... when you were outed... I was terrified. Everyone knew I was your best friend... if they thought I was... was... if they knew... if Dad knew... ohh, God... so I let people think I didn't like you anymore. Trouble was, I was too convincing... I'm so sorry."

We stayed like that, my body over his, my pony shaking with me wrapping him in my arms until he quietened again. Then I stood and pulled slowly from his ass, the long sticky withdrawal going on and on until my cock finally popped free, covered in a sheen of bull cum but still hard. I stared at his ass, while he lay there still bent over the table. His pucker looked so red and sore, all puffy now where it had been thin and dark, and a river of cum suddenly spurted from his hole to drip down his taint and cover his perineum and his sack in a white sticky coating.

I knelt behind him, to examine his poor pony hole, then bent forward almost in a trance. He smelt so hot, and looked so inviting. I leaned in, with muzzle opened, and let my tongue lick from his balls to his pucker, tasting the sweet milk of my cum. He shuddered at the touch and moaned, then moaned louder when I ate out his ravished hole, soothing the burn in his ass with the liberal application of tongue and fingers and hot huffing breaths.

He managed to stand, and I pulled him round to face me. His eyes were wide, stunned and aroused, and his cock waved in the air trailing a line of precum. His whole chest was covered in cum, and I licked down his chest and belly, cleaning him, until I took his length in my hands and stroked.

"Hey cow! Sweet little cow, such a fag. Suck me off cow, you know you want it... trouble is, I did Nick. I wanted it so much..."

Now I got to have it at last, a few years late. As he whinnied and his body tensed, I engulfed his cock in my muzzle, cupping his balls and squeezing as I went down on him to the hilt. My tongue slid under his cock, inside his sheath, savouring his taste as I deep throated my pony, and his balls rolled and swelled until he couldn't hold on even if he wanted to.

I got my honey-rich rewards. But the best reward was his ecstatic look of pleasure and the smile he gave me afterwards. Even when I dressed him again, reluctantly covering that beautiful pony cock with his torn jeans and briefs, and I sat him down finally in the interview room, he was still smiling, a little lost, a little sad.

"Are you... are you going to..."

"Stay here, Nick, and stay quiet. I will see what I can do."

I headed for the bathroom first, to try to cover the scent of sex with as much aftershave as I could lay my hands on, then went back to the desk. Akland was there, waiting, and grinning.

"How did you go, Faz?"

I grunted noncommittally.

"He seems a real cutie..."

"Yeah."

"Pity you never told him that Murphy had already decided on giving him a caution and letting him go... which I know she told you, by the way..."

I looked up and stared at the mare, completely gobsmacked. All I could do was make vague gurgling noises, as she almost cracked up watching me suffer. Eventually, I managed speech.

"How... how..."

"Really, meatball, did you think I was going to let you do whatever you were doing without keeping an eye on you? Murphy and I were in the observation room watching through the mirror. I will let you in on a secret, beefy... when I say I love the young guys, I mean I love watching them pounding each other too. Same for Murphy. Totally gets our motors running, and you and that horse were the hottest couple of studs I've ever seen. Managed to frig myself to three orgasms while you two were going at it. I think Murphy managed four. Fucking doe..."

"Holy Shit!"

"Yeah, that's what I said about the time you pulled him back against you and fucked that first load out of his balls without touching his cock. Hottest thing I've seen for ages. Murphy sends her compliments too... you might find her much more accommodating in future."

"Oh God... what are you going to do?"

She smiled again, and rubbed my horns that way she did. I shuddered this time. It didn't feel motherly somehow. Or even sisterly.

"Nothing, you big side of beef. It is kind of nice to see you are mortal after all; I was beginning to wonder if we had superbull here. One thing though..."

"Name it!"

"Well, you owe me a favour. A big one. And I mean to collect... that means, when this little pony comes back to you, I get to watch. And one day, I want a threesome. I kind of like the idea of that poor lost confused straight stud going down on me while I watch you tear up his tailhole. Might break the three-orgasm barrier."

I was too busy stuttering to register at first, but then it dawned on me.

"Hey. How do you know he will be back?"

She rubbed my horns again, but this time the smile was warm.

"Hon... I saw his face when you speared his ass that first time. He was staring straight at us, though he didn't know. He'll be back. Trust me."

I left it at that and went back to release my stud, mind in a whirl. He was pathetically grateful, and I felt like the ultimate heel.

"Thanks... thanks, Marco. I... thanks."

"Just stay out of trouble from now on, Nick. No stupid shit. Be a good horse."

He pulled me against him when I took the cuffs off, and then moved in for an awkward kiss. He was all teeth and lips, really a terrible kisser, but it felt so good nonetheless. I still felt that warmth on my lips as I escorted him out, with matching warmth on my skin from the appreciative stares of Akland and Murphy watching me lead him away.

*****

All the next week, I was distracted. My sleep was haunted by erotic dreams of my pony; in my bed, in my police car, handcuffed to my bed, or on one mind-bending occasion, fucking me with my own nightstick while he had me trussed over the desk in reception and the whole station cheered. I never jacked off so much even as a teenager, and even after four cums in a row had coated my chestfur I still couldn't sleep.

My days were also haunted with thoughts. What if he doesn't come back. What if he does come back and lodges a complaint. What if... what if...

"Seriously, Faz, take some leave. You are becoming a menace."

"S... sorry Akk."

The mare shook her head in disgust. I wondered at the change, and then I realised I had never known her to be in love. The thought saddened me this Saturday night, for some reason.

"Akk... how's about we go out together tomorrow night. We're both rostered off."

She gave a snort.

"Nice try, meatball, but I don't think you're my type."

"Just... just for fun. No sex or anything, just friends, and a good time."

I saw her hesitate, uncertainty suddenly finding a place on her face where it previously never existed. I held my breath.

"Ahh, Farinetti? There is someone waiting for you at the front desk."

I turned to the unsworn member who held out a message slip for me. The reed thin raccoon with the glasses shook in his boots, and I realised my expression must have been fairly unkind. I turned back to Akland, but she had recovered, and we exchanged rueful glances as she returned to her paperwork. I headed for the desk, thinking for the moment about my partner, too distracted to wonder who it might be. Which was probably why I managed to drop my coffee when I came round the corner and spied my horse looking nervous as he stood in the waiting room.

I got him signed in and buzzed through, and we trotted towards my desk. I wanted to ask, I didn't want to ask... in the end, curiosity and need won out.

"Nick, why..."

"Marco, I've been... a very bad horse."

We stopped, and I looked at him with a frown.

"A bad horse?"

He nodded.

"A... very bad horse."

Then he finally looked me in the eyes, and smiled a shy smile.

My cock reached full mast in record time. I reached for my handcuffs, and I saw him watching. Judging by the bulge developing in his crotch, I was not alone.

"Well, well, well... who is this?"

The mare enveloped us both in her arms, and I felt a soft squeeze on my shoulder.

"Ahh... hey, Akk. Um... this is my... er.. friend, Nick. Nick, this is my partner, Senior Constable Akland..."

They looked at each other, both a little nonplussed, but for different reasons. Eventually, the mare smiled her most winning smile though and reached out to shake Nick's hand.

"Well, pleased to meet you, Nick. I have a feeling I'm going to be seeing a lot more of you soon..."

I just barely managed to stifle a moo at that. We communicated with eyes instead; she was definitely collecting. I dropped my eyes a little and sighed.

"If you two need to talk, maybe try Interview Seven? I just need to go have a chat with Murphy..."

Now it was Nick's turn to gulp, and he watched the mare trot off with relief, before he regained his grin. Something about my expression seemed to worry him though, and he stopped and looked quizzically for a second.

"Something wrong?"

"No... no... well, except you being a bad horse and all..." And I waved the handcuffs in front of his muzzle as he gave a cute little whinny.

Maybe this was something I could share with Akland after all. It didn't seem like I had much choice anyway. I tried not to think about the other side of the one way mirror as I cuffed my stud and rubbed needy fingers inside his rugby shirt seeking out those incredible nipples that crowned a pair of plump pony pecs.

"How bad have you been?"

"Oh... so fucking bad... AHHHH!"

Now we were both grinning. I rewarded him for his roleplay with a harsh pinch and twist. I knew he liked it that way...

One thought did worry me a bit too, though.

Someone's been a bad bull as well, haven't they.

Well, all in good time. Confession is good for the soul; and maybe, just maybe, my punishment might involve my nightstick. Along with a far more enjoyable stick if I promised to be good... but not too good.