Companions Chapter 23: When Worlds Collide
#23 of Companions
[Companions Chapter 23]
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WARNING! The following text contains explicit adult subject matter. It is not intended for anyone under the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18, then you must stop reading now. The author has taken steps to ensure that this story does not appear in any subject-inappropriate or age-inapropriate forum. This version has been posted with the author's permission to Yiffstar.com.
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* _COMPANIONS_
* by Evoquus
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* (c) Copyright 2003, Evoquus, All rights reserved.
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* Feedback is appreciated: [email protected]
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Rating: NC-17 for explicit sex: M/M, Human-Stallion-Mare, Anal, Oral
Chapter 23: When Worlds Collide
Inside the dreary makeshift laboratory, the soulless Hipponaur was alive and not-so-well, tirelessly tended to by man-made machines, feeding and hydrating, breathing life into uninterested lungs, and occasionally waking up a dozing heart with a kilovolt or two. With tail bound and pinned back, the anus was free to dribble neatly into a portable self-flushing commode, while an excruciating catheter that was not the least bit uncomfortable dismissed urine in a similar manner. Restraints held the stallion in place only to prevent him from involuntarily falling off the table, for he had no desire to be anywhere else. The point of keeping a dead horse alive could be easily lost in the overwhelming cacophony of mad science, were it not for a small, unremarkable tube emerging from the base of the full scrotum. Every ninety seconds, a pearl, more valuable than all of the world's treasures, budded from the vinyl vein to join its brethren congregating in a large plastic syringe.
"Good morning, Bouceph. Did you sleep well?"
The man replaced the syringe containing last night's produce with a fresh one for the day's harvest, then prepared for his morning dose of wake-up juice. Sitting comfortably on a cot, he bulged a blood vessel by squeezing a fist. Then, with the deftness of a seasoned heroin addict, the evolving human filled his vein, and sat back to ride the cosmos.
The early morning chatter of my homeworld, like the gentlest snooze alarm, eased me into pleasant consciousness. My head rested on the outstretched forearm of my mate, whose muzzle dropped down to tenderly touch my own.
"Good morning, Companion," were the first three heart-warming words of the day.
"The best one so far," I blissed, bringing my equine lips to his.
"I am happy to hear that. I was concerned for your emotional health last night, given the circumstances with Josh and your other self."
Emerging as his favorite naked human, I climbed onto his back and wrapped my arms around his powerful neck. "I'm doing just fine, and so are they. I've got my big sexy one-ton husband with me, and I think I always will. God wants me to be happy, and I couldn't be happier."
"I am pleased that you are so confident in our future."
"You're not?"
"Yes, of course I am, Companion. I am merely expressing surprise at your optimistic outlook this morning. I had expected you to wake up still feeling depressed for having parted company with Josh. I must admit I continue to feel melancholy for all of us."
"Rovaun, didn't you receive Mourne's dream?"
The stallion turned his head to his virtual rider. Receiving dreams from others had yet to be proven a trustworthy experience for him. "No," he said, cynically.
I knew that the events shown to me of my life one year from now were not typical of Hipponaur precognition. Evidently Mourne had left it up to me to decide whether or not to reveal it to my mate, but this was a secret that was easy to share.
I played last night's dream from beginning to end, and found myself thoroughly entertained by Rovaun's priceless and ever-changing expressions, traversing the emotional landscapes of amusement, wonder, shock, revelation, and humility. Frolicking with his sons encouraged his eyes to well up, and reuniting with his alternate Companion urged a few drops to relocate to his chin. When it was over, he brought his head down to hug my arms that were still around his neck and sighed deeply to settle his emotions.
"I am hurt that you felt you could not ask me for permission to mate with him," he said with a smile, indicating that he wasn't really hurt that much. "I have already adopted Zhorelle's child. I certainly would not hesitate to adopt Josh's."
"Now that I know your answer, I'll make sure to ask," I said, patting his neck.
He stood up, still carrying me virtually on his back, then strolled around to stretch his legs while remaining in close proximity to my host body.
"Which brings me to an uncomfortable conclusion, Companion. This dream is not likely to be entirely accurate because it contains too much detail. Revealing these events in such a way now has necessarily changed the events to occur a year from now. Perhaps not on a grand scale, but conversations will undoubtedly be different, and that is inconsistent with traditional Hipponaur vision."
"But it doesn't have to be inconsistent, Husband. Since we know what the dialog is, we can simply mimic it without letting on to Josh and Danny that we already know."
"It is more than dialog, Companion. The emotions I felt from your dream were real, not mimicked, which means that something is not right. And you know my feelings about dreams, anyway. My oath of skepticism still stands. However, for now, I will choose to believe that the dream, for the most part, is true. Primarily because doing so cheers me up, and you as well."
"I sure hope it's true. I can't imagine the hell my other self went through last week." I squeezed him tight while kissing his mane. "Please don't ever die on me."
"And I respectfully make the same request of you, Dear Companion. Join me for breakfast?"
"All-you-can-eat meadow buffet?"
"My treat."
"I would be delighted."
I slid off of him and accompanied him as his devoted mare. In the meadow we joined several other Hipponaurs grazing serenely in the morning sun. Rovaun happily munched away on a large clump of grass, most of which dangled gluttonously from his mouth, displaying to all one of several bad habits he picked up during our honeymoon. I didn't say anything, because he was too adorable.
"Have you noticed, Companion, just how delicious the endless buffet is on our world?"
"I agree, Husband. The grass is greener here." Sauntering up to him, I nibbled on the external shoots he was working into his mouth. "And here, they are the greenest."
"Fuck the banana splits," he joked, kissing me with a slimy mouthful of cud.
"It's good to be home, isn't it."
"It is, Companion. We are truly blessed."
A sullen white mare inconspicuously approached to graze in our vicinity, but not so close as to encroach upon our claim.
"Good morning, Shianna," I said cheerfully.
"Hi," came the dejected reply that did not even pretend to match my tone.
"Is something wrong?" asked my clueless mate.
"No."
"How is Tantau?"
"Fine."
"Where's Azgard?"
"How the hell should I know."
[Ouch.] I still felt bad about permanently stealing Rovaun away from her. She obviously felt equally as bad, and apparently Azgard did not fill the void. If a little time with my husband would cheer her up, it was no skin off my nose.
"Shianna," I said, "I have a really big favor to ask."
She barely acknowledged me, not at all interested in doing me a favor. "What."
"Tantau is getting gypped. He gets almost no exposure to his father, because Rovaun's spending all of his time with me. Do you think you could entertain my husband today, so he and Tantau can bond some more and I can have some peace?"
Raising her head, she glanced at Rovaun, who smiled warmly at her.
"Okay."
"And I hate to ask you this, but, Tattoo was the most receptive to Rovaun when he was, um, really, really close to him, you know?"
She eyed me cynically. "How close?"
I sighed. For the sake of her honor, I had to come out and say it. "Rovaun's dick makes a good cell phone."
"That close," she said, suppressing a smile.
"Oh, and another thing... I hate to keep piling it on, and I don't intend for this to come off as sounding boastful, but... because of our frequent coupling, Rovaun now needs to be, uh, relieved of essence at least three times a day, otherwise he gets... painfully..."
He hung his head in mock shame.
"I see," she sighed, expressing what a wonderfully terrible burden this was going to be. "Well, you can't expect me to do it out here in the open!"
"Of course not, Shianna," said Rovaun.
"Show her your garden, Rovaun. Make a day trip out of it. And don't forget that Shianna is doing us a really big favor. See to it that the mother of my child is happy. A happy mommy is a happy foal."
"I shall do whatever it takes, Companion."
He whickered while nuzzling her, evoking a blissful sigh from the mare. Then they left together without saying a word.
"Thanks Shianna," I called after them. "I owe you one."
She flicked her tail as a minimal acknowledgement.
"Geez, you're welcome," I muttered.
I continued with breakfast, which suddenly tasted not so green when I had no one to make it special with, but to my delight, that didn't last long.
"Do you know where Shianna is?" asked my cute-as-a-button future daughter-in-law.
"Hi Honey. Shianna is with Tantau's Daddy, but Tattoo and I would love to have some company."
"Okay," she beamed with her typically sun-brightening smile. "Can I talk to him, now?"
"If you can get a word in edge-wise."
She pressed into my side for a moment. "Oh, he's singing a new song... Who is Josh?"
"He's a very good friend that Rovaun and I met on our honeymoon."
"Will I get to meet him?"
"I sure hope so."
Malaya and Tattoo continued their cheerful banter while I contentedly grazed on my humble rations. I didn't miss the decadent hotel buffet at all. Horses didn't belong in restaurants, nor in hot tubs, nor in big comfy beds. They belonged right where I was standing, grazing carefree on a sunny morning with fellow equines. I didn't regret treating my husband to a week of human overindulgence. We both had a great time, but that was not my life anymore. My destiny was far more beautiful than that, and I was living it right now.
If I had been given a choice between living forever as a stallion or as a mare, I never would have opted for the fairer sex, which was why I was so thankful that Destiny had made the decision for me. As a mare I could have it all. My physical body reinforced my innate desire for masculine companionship, yet my soul held onto my own male identity. Though I had an occasional instance of feeling downright feminine, it was usually in the presence of a big sexy stallion (or one particular Anthraun) who could make the most macho of men feel as dainty as Little Bo Peep. It was only natural.
And sex as a mare could not be surpassed. "Straight" sex with my husband provided the only physical configuration in which we could truly make love, as opposed to fuck like Psychos. Both of us could effortlessly maintain control, enabling us to enjoy each other more than the act itself. But most of all, as a mare, I could enjoy the fruits of our labors. Carrying my son brought me indescribable joy. I couldn't imagine the joy I would feel a year from now when, with my loving husband's blessing, I would get to do it again. Frank Capra could not have imagined a more wonderful life.
The smell of smoke brought my wonderful life to a sudden state of alarm, but after locating the source I was relieved to see it was a harmless controlled burn. Fifty yards away on the edge of the meadow, a small orange flame licked at a black iron skillet attended to by a two hundred and thirty-eight year old man who would never be a day over thirty-five. I trotted over to him followed closely behind by my sweet little shadow.
"Daniel Racher!" shouted a stern Parceph slowly emerging from the woods behind his Companion.
Unclear as to the tone of his greeting, I stopped to address him.
"Front and CENTER!" he insisted, continuing his deadpan approach.
I stepped out and eyed him with a vague smirk. The dark brown stallion marched right up to me and deliberately planted his front hooves on my virtual Nikes, then hooked his chin over my shoulder and pressed it hard into my back. He didn't say another word and neither did I, but I was happy to return his heart-felt hug - the first since he and his Companion had been reunited.
"Hey. Flycatcher. My turn."
Parceph released me, then stepped aside for his Companion, who was offering me a hug of his own, except that he walked right past me and hugged my empty Hipponaur body instead.
Parceph shook his head. "See what an asshole he is? At least I got a break from him for a couple of centuries."
The two of them pretended to shoot daggers at each other, but no two entities could be more in love.
"What's cooking, Jerry?"
"Mushroom omelet's on the menu this morning, Danny," he said, whacking me on the back as he returned to his skillet. Then he popped a leftover fungus into his mouth and my blood suddenly ran cold. I knew enough about wild mushrooms to stay clear of the ones he had collected, but I was two seconds too late to warn him that the thing he just ingested would destroy his liver within thirty-six hours.
"Jeremiah," I said quavering, "those are Deathcaps."
"And they're scurrrrumptious!" he grinned. "Try one. You may get a little buzz, so don't operate heavy machinery for an hour."
He held the lethal fungal fruit out to me but I couldn't go near it. Malaya raised up to see what it was, then looked up at me.
"If you don't want it, can I have it? I love them."
"You eat these?"
"Sure! They're scurrrrumptious!" she aped.
"You're Hipponaur now, Danny," he said. "And so am I, at least as far as my iron constitution is concerned, thanks to my slobbering steed. There ain't much around that's truly toxic to any of us. Go on, try it."
I glanced at Parceph who nodded to me, so I climbed back into my body and nibbled out of his open palm. The old young man was right.
"Scurrrrumptious!"
"Heh-heh." He sat back down to flip the smoking conglomerate in the pan. "A couple of years ago, a rattler got me on my leg. Worst mosquito bite I ever had."
Parceph brought his head down to nuzzle the cheek of his Companion, who did not shy away from his affection. He hooked his free hand up to pat the horse's neck, then gave him a peck, which was the most he was willing to do in front of others. It was all Parceph needed for now, raising his head and letting out a big happy sigh.
"Are you going to keep him, Parceph?" I asked.
The stallion looked down with disdain upon his mate.
"I suppose," he said, dryly, evoking a snicker from the human.
"Then I recommend that you scan him. Just as a precaution."
Jeremiah grinned up at his Companion.
"Already have, Danny," he said confidently. "I'm not going to lose him again."
"I'm kinda lookin' forward to my death," the man said to me. "I heard about you and your Companion cohabiting that big ol' stud body of his."
"Don't even joke about that," admonished Parceph.
"Yes, Dear."
"Where is your Companion, Danny?"
"I gave him permission to spend the day cheering up Tantau's mother."
"Hmm," Parceph nodded, agreeing that Shianna needed emotional support. "That was generous of you."
"You do what you gotta do," I shrugged. "Have you two thought about starting a family?"
Parceph now gazed adoringly at his mate. "I have."
"What?" said the deer caught in the headlights.
"A family, Companion. Didn't my other self ever bring that subject up with you?"
"Well, heh,... to be perfectly honest,... no."
"Perhaps the topic wasn't relevant because the recipe had yet to be discovered."
"Recipe? For making kids? Gimme a break. I'm not that ignorant."
"The recipe for YOU and I to make kids," said Parceph with his insightful smile.
"Oh... you and me... Huh?"
"Anthrauns!" I exclaimed.
"Anthrauns!" he reiterated. "Whazzat?"
"Parceph! Have you kept him imprisoned in your cave for the past week?"
"Not imprisoned. Impaled perhaps, but he was free to come and go as he pleased."
"Oh right!" yelled Jeremiah. "All I had to do was disembowel myself. The fucker's bell wouldn't stop ringing. The first night, I could kinda understand, but I was still stuck to him in the morning, and then all day long, and then the next night, and the next morning..."
"You spent the whole week tied to Parceph!?"
"Nah, it couldn't have been a whole week," said Jeremiah.
"Yes it was, Companion."
"Huh... time flies when you're havin' fun," he grinned elbowing his mate's shin.
"How is it that you can suppress your Primitive?"
"My Primitive is very much alive and kicking, Danny. I suspect that is why it wouldn't let go of my Companion. Fortunately, I care for him too much to love him to death. Not to mention the fact that he's been fucked so many times by me in another timeline that his colon is tougher than neoprene."
Jeremiah snickered into his skillet.
"But, Parceph, didn't you have to, um, ... 'go' occasionally?"
"'Course he did. Pissed in me like a busted hydrant. Wasn't no big deal, though, apart from all the sloshing about. It eventually went through my own kidneys and I pissed him out myself. Wasn't the first time I peed Parceph."
"And it won't be the last," said his mate hovering over him.
Jeremiah looked up and whispered through a smile, "My butt's already lonely."
"So is mine," whickered his stallion.
"Ohhhh," cooed the human. "I love you."
"Danny," said Parceph, redirecting the conversation back to it's original subject, "since you are the expert on Anthraun conception, would you care to explain the facts of life to my Companion?"
"My dear Parceph, it would be my pleasure."
Fred and Sharon trudged quietly through the woods, each carrying a four-day supply of human life support on their backs. Although she thought it unfair that her boyfriend had divided equally between them the weight of the food and sleeping accommodations, Sharon was happy just to get the workaholic out of his steadfast environment and into a new one where the only sizeable mammal within miles was her.
"Tell me this wasn't a great idea, Dr. McHenry," she cheered. "Just you and me and the great outdoors."
"Yeah," he said, never being much for words when the only thing he liked to talk about always pissed her off.
"Just smell that fresh air," she sighed, craning her nose at the pine-needled canopy.
"It's the mold from decaying detritus that gives it that country-fresh smell."
She brought her head down and frowned, "Can't you at least try to be pleasant?"
"I wasn't being unpleasant, just real. Truly fresh air smells as pleasant as a hospital oxygen tank."
She clamped her mouth shut, convulsing facial muscles from jaw to temple. Oh yeah, this was a great idea. Fred was content to listen to her silence along with the life living all around him. He also kept a watchful eye out for something, a behavior that did not go unnoticed by his partner.
"What are you looking for?"
"Lions and tigers and bears."
Sharon stopped, wide-eyed and -mouthed. Her boyfriend continued on for several paces, then turned around. "I don't see any."
"Fred, are there really lions, tigers and bears here?"
"No, Sharon," he said, calming her down, "I was just kidding. You were supposed to say, 'Oh my!'"
"Why?"
"No reason," he sighed.
The two of them continued with Fred in the lead.
"Besides, you should know that there aren't any tigers in California. So I'm just keeping an eye out for lions, WOLVES, and bears."
She didn't say anything. Damn it, she would not let him get to her. She had him to herself for four whole days. That was probably the longest time span in his life he would go without examining a fetlock. The way he constantly talked about horses was unwholesome, her psychiatric degree told her. For his own sake and for theirs, she had to rescue him from his obsession, if only for four days.
For Sharon, babies were cute, and ironically, it was a baby horse that had made Fred seem so endearing to her. He helped deliver it as part of his undergraduate work, and was as high as a satellite for weeks afterward. Someone with such passion and joy for new life would be a good father some day, so she latched onto him.
But cute baby horses turned into large, filthy, dangerous beasts. Polite company had nothing to do with them. She was polite company. And since he was not some tobacky chawin' hick, he was polite company too. But it was completely beyond her how creatures that did little else than dump shovelsful wherever they stood could hold his interest.
Fred reached back into a side pocket and pulled out his GPS receiver.
"How far have we gone?" she asked, stifling her ire.
"About four miles."
"Why did we come here?"
"I thought you liked it here."
"No, I mean, what made you pull the car over when you did?"
"I dunno," he lied.
The young doctor had no patience for wasting what little personal time he could never afford. There was a very good reason why he pulled over where he did. Sharon had suggested this camping trip not one hour after he had received a private email from a forest ranger buddy of his. While patrolling the national forest from the air, he had spotted something unusual on the ground and noted the coordinates. It was something he thought Fred might be interested in, and Fred was very interested. It took no arm twisting on Sharon's part to get him to come along, as long as he chose the destination.
He continued to study the changing numbers beaming down from outer space, which was a suspicious thing to do for someone who was not supposed to be heading in a particular direction.
"Freddie," Sharon grinned, "are you planning a surprise?"
"Huh? No." He hated being called that.
"Come on, I can tell you're looking for something."
"No... I'm just checking the batteries."
He put the device away for he no longer needed it. According to the digits, he had reached his clandestine destination, but his eyes could not confirm it. He stopped and looked around rather frustrated, then felt his heart race when he spied a bright yellow-green sliver signaling him like a lighthouse from fifty yards away. He headed straight for it, not really caring if Sharon followed him or not, but she did, and she saw the sliver widen as they approached.
"What is that?"
"I think it's a clearing. We can camp there."
"Thank God. My shoulders are killing me."
When they reached the edge of the humble meadow, Fred stopped abruptly and whispered the two words that had escaped his co-dependent earlier.
"Oh, my..."
"What? What is it!?"
Sharon saw it to, and her eyes turned to angry slits.
"What the fuck is that thing doing here," she muttered through clenched teeth.
Ten yards away, the grazing Clydesdale raised his head and regarded them. The Hipponaur code indicated that Azgard's most prudent action at this point was to run into the forest, but he chose instead to observe the harmless humans quietly.
"He's so beautiful," Fred said in awe.
Sharon turned to Fred seething in anger.
"I don't believe it! You KNEW it was going to be here!"
"No I didn't... not for sure..."
"GOD DAMN IT, FRED! What is wrong with you!?"
"Nothing..."
"Stop gawking at it and look at me!"
He redirected his tranquil gaze from the gentle stallion to the fury.
"This trip was supposed to be about US!"
"It still can be."
"I'm glad to hear that. Let's go!"
"Where?"
"Away from HERE!"
"Why?"
"You know GODDAMN well why!"
"Sharon, I'm a horse doc. Horses are what I do. What's wrong with that?"
"Because it is an obsession with you! You can't give it a rest. Every other vet I know goes home to a wife or husband, but you take your work home with you and sleep with it. It isn't healthy and it isn't normal. I'm a doctor, too, remember."
"There's nothing wrong with me," he said serenely, returning his gaze to the prettier animal.
"I've had it, Fred. I'm leaving. You can choose to come with me, or you can stay here."
He looked at her and then back to the stallion, spending a lot more time on the stallion.
"I don't believe it!" she shrieked, "You're actually thinking it over!?"
He shrugged. "The horse hasn't given me any grief today." Getting a rise out of him was all she really wanted, which was why he wouldn't give it to her.
"Have it your way," she said, struggling to remove her pack. "You're an emotional vacuum, Fred. I swear you'd rather date an equine than a woman. Well, there's your girlfriend!"
Azgard snorted at the insult. Surely his genitals were not imperceptible.
Sharon dropped her backpack and turned to leave. Fred looked down at it and thought it very irresponsible of her.
"Where are you going without your pack?"
"I'm going home!"
"You can't just leave. You'll get lost."
"I am not staying here another minute."
"Okay, then take the GPS receiver." He fished out the large calculator-sized device and handed it to her. She accepted it, still shaking her head in disbelief that he would call her bluff.
"Here's where we are, and here's where the car is. Just head off in that direction and you'll find it."
"And what if I get attacked by wild animals?"
"You'd better take the cell phone, too."
He reached into her backpack only to slice his palm open on a razor sharp gutting knife.
"Ahh!" he winced, pulling his hand out, which rapidly filled with blood. Now she DID get a rise out of him, but he still refused to show it. How could she be so unfathomably careless as to pack an open blade like that!
"Fred, you need stitches," she said, unapologetic, but rightly concerned.
"No, it's not that bad," he lied, wrapping a white handkerchief around it. White turned to red.
"Take the cell phone."
"I can't leave you like this with no means of communication!"
"Sharon, I'm fine. See? The bleeding has almost stopped. You're right. I do need to think about things, but I need to do it alone. I've got eight days worth of rations here, and that should be plenty of time to sort things out."
"You call me in FIVE days, or I'm calling Search and Rescue, and you'll be footing the bill!"
"Deal. Thank you."
"Fuck you."
The fury departed, allowing the more pleasant sounds of nature to restore peace and tranquility to the meadow. Fred was concerned about his hand, which didn't hurt as much as it bled, but would no doubt be throbbing by nightfall. Though he'd much rather say hello to his new friend, he was not nearly as irresponsible as his insignificant other had believed. Removing his pack and then his first aid kit, he properly disinfected and bandaged the wound.
Slowly standing up again, Fred remained still and calm, waiting patiently for the sounds of stomping human footsteps to completely fade away, so that nothing would distract him from first contact.
Azgard found this human to be intriguing, and was flattered that the man was so obviously infatuated. He felt himself start to drop, but then uncharacteristically put a stop to it, thinking perhaps it should not be so easy.
"Hi," said Fred, waving his bandaged right hand. "Mind if I say hello?"
Azgard whickered, then returned to grazing, signaling his comfort with the human's presence.
"Sorry about all the yelling back there," he said as he carefully approached. "I'm not really an emotional vacuum. If anything, my emotions are about ready to detonate right now. You are such a beautiful sight."
Allowing a human to come up to him put Azgard in clear violation of Hipponaur law, but the laws were currently in flux, and though human contact was still technically forbidden, it was not clear whether the spirit of the law still considered that to be true. Just to be on the safe side, though, he continued to masquerade as a tame, brainless equine.
Fred knew he had nothing to fear from the titanic stallion. The fact that he showed no fear of humans was a clear indication that he was very comfortable being handled by them.
"You escaped from somewhere, didn't you, Big Fella," he said, putting his unbandaged palm on Azgard's flank, then sliding it up to his neck. The stallion raised his head enabling Fred to sensually run his fingers from between the ears, down the forehead, to the tip of the nose. Azgard smelled him and daintily tasted him. It was what the human had expected, and what an equine would have done. And when Azgard did it, he displayed a profound change in his own demeanor, for this was no ordinary man.
"You are something else," said Fred.
"As are you," thought Azgard to himself.
Fred continued to massage and rub the stallion's neck and mane, not consciously aware that this equine was staring back at him in a way that only a sentient being would.
"I really love Clydesdales," he said.
There was no stopping the dick now.
"It's the only reason I'll have a Bud," he chuckled, "did you know that?"
Azgard did not.
"I heard this rumor," he said while patting around and assessing the horse's general health, "that disgruntled employees sometimes spike the beer vats with Clydesdale urine." He stopped and looked him in the eyes. "I wonder if I've ever had you?"
"Could this human truly be wondering that?" thought Azgard to himself, and the thought of this human wondering something so intimate pulsed his erection to full rigidity.
"I feel exactly the same way," said Fred, fully aware of the stallion's arousal and of his own that outmatched it. "There's something about you..."
Pressing his face into the stallion's shoulder, he inhaled him deeply, but remained cautiously aware that this provocative act could result in a painful nip. Azgard wanted nothing more than to give him that nip, but instead, did something far more dangerous.
"I am Azgard."
The human did not respond, but continued to nuzzle his fur.
"Can you hear me?"
His question brought only contented sighs from the young veterinarian. Though disappointed that he could not commune with the man, Azgard allowed himself to enjoy his affection.
Rubbing his mane, Fred studied the sexy brown attentive eyes of the stallion, who returned a warm gaze of his own. "You like this, don't you." he said with a quiet smile.
Azgard nodded.
Fred snickered through his nose. "Was that a 'yes?'"
Azgard nodded again.
His scritching hand suddenly turned to stone as Fred's smile and gaze morphed into an expression somewhere between wonder and horror.
"Can... you... understand me?"
Another nod.
The man lifted his hand off of the possessed equine and froze again, but his temporary paralysis soon gave way to relieved chuckling. "You'll nod your head no matter what I say, right?"
Azgard shook it.
"No fucking way!" he laughed, backing away from the beast.
"Yes fucking way," nodded Azgard.
With equal parts of skepticism and amusement, the vet played along with his trick pony. "Sit, boy!" he giggled.
Azgard obliged him, then Fred doubled over with laughter.
"Roll... [Ha! Ha! Ha!] ... Rollover!"
The Clydesdale snorted, but decided to do this too, landing with a WHUMP when his legs flipped over.
"Do you fetch, too?" he asked between chortles.
Azgard stood up and gave him an eye. Fred agreed that that was enough indignity for now.
"No, huh. I don't blame you," he said regaining composure. He brushed the dirt and flotsam from the stallion's fur. "I don't believe for one second that any of this is real, my friend, but it's fun to pretend."
Azgard whickered again while Fred patted the dust and burrs off of him. Perhaps it was best that the human doubted his existence. Although he detected a possible bond between them, he could not guarantee that it wasn't just wishful thinking. Previously, he had felt a similar bond with the Wraith but had been completely off base, so he swore to himself to be more cautious in the future.
Fred worked his way around the hunky equine, brushing him off with his hands and fingers, and rarely taking his eyes off of the Louisville Slugger between his legs.
"You are one mighty fine piece of horseflesh. I can't believe you don't belong to somebody."
He squatted to examine the equine's legs and hooves, and to get a much better eyeful. Without hesitation, Azgard lifted each leg upon request and allowed the vet to pick out the hooves as needed, but in general, he was in perfect health, which was completely perplexing. No scars, no markings, this horse could not have grown up in the wild. Yet how did he get here? There were no ranches within twenty miles, and horses did not migrate as long as there was plenty of food. He stood up again and sighed exasperated at the face that looked back at him.
He couldn't explain what made him do it, perhaps it was the intelligent eyes that seemed to comprehend him, but he put his arms around the stallion's neck, and the stallion reciprocated, warmly hugging the human back.
"Ohhhhh myyyyyy," he cried, suddenly realizing that this big beautiful creature had a bigger and more beautiful soul. "You don't belong to anyone, do you. No one could own this spirit."
Azgard became emotional, too. Though this man could not commune, he could understand. He very well could be the one.
As Fred hugged his new friend, he could feel and hear the beast's heartbeat as well as his own. Then something interesting happened: the two cardiovascular systems became synchronized, beating together as one. Azgard didn't notice, for he was content just to hold the man, but Fred was keenly aware of it. It might have been coincidence, but some primordial instinct told him otherwise. There was something about this horse that would change everything. For several more minutes the two held each other affectionately, allowing their destined souls to mate.
"This is the most unbelievable moment of my life," Fred whispered. "I'd date you instead of a woman any day."
"I am truly honored."
"What is this spell you hold over me?" he sighed. "You've got me hard as kryptonite."
"I too am intensely aroused."
As if he understood, Fred let go to help the stallion unload his burden.
"Would you like me to take care of that pesky penis?"
He could swear that the horse actually smiled at him before nodding his head.
"Then, my very large friend, say hello to Mr. Crump."
The experienced vet had manually collected stallion semen many times for breeding purposes. Occasionally, he would then have to excuse himself to manually collect human semen in private. This time, though, was different - there was a very high probability that, despite focussing all of his attention on the Clydesdale, the veterinarian would cum first.
He sensually ran his hand back along the entire length of the stallion's body, and slid it down and underneath to cup and caress the heavy balls. Then with thumb and finger tips placed delicately on the top and bottom of the base of the turgid shaft, he slowly brought them forward, barely contacting the flesh along the way. Horses didn't know it, but they loved to be teased, and a light touch was far more effective than a heavy one. Feeling the human palpate him so expertly, the Clydesdale's brain sent a telegram to his testes to get ready to rumble.
Once his right hand had trekked the mile of cock to reach the stallion's glans, he gripped it there gently and began rhythmically squeezing. Simultaneously reaching back with his left, he caressed the base of the cock, using the middle finger to stimulate the sensitive underside, right where a mare's engorged clitoris would be winking hello. The key to emptying a stallion's balls was to continue with a delicate touch. It taunted the beast, egged him on, dared him to do something about it, and few could resist the calling.
Gasping at the talented man-handling, Azgard instinctively threw a few pelvic thrusts his doctor's way. Fred was undaunted, anticipating that action, and merely moved in concert with the excited equine to continue the tender torture unfazed.
How could this stranger know him so well, wondered the stallion. His hands played him like a virtuoso, fingering the right chords, pushing all the right valves. This was not a natural talent of humans. He doubted that even the Wraith could be so gifted. Only Destiny could have brought them together.
Fred found his grip being forced open as the Clydesdale's smaller head expanded to challenge the size of his larger one. Feeling a pre-orgasmic stallion inflate in his hand always sent shivers down his spine, often causing him to lose his concentration, sometimes squeezing too hard or too fast. Azgard was no exception in this case. His glans tripled in girth as its trumpet magically bloomed. Fred was so mesmerized by the sight that he was completely unaware that he had reopened the wound in his palm and was massaging his blood into the Hipponaur's penis.
The warm sticky wetness on the end of his cock had two immediate effects on Azgard: it triggered a Clydesdale-sized climax, and it yanked his screaming Primitive out of Hell.
Suddenly roaring with lust, the stallion jerked out of Fred's hand just as his essence gushed out, saturating the bandage and then spraying wildly like a fire hose without an attendant. Fred fell backwards, landing on his back as the stallion reared up and twisted to come down upon him. The murderous horsecock, still spewing white death, frantically probed the man's head for an orifice to fill, then found its mark when Fred gasped for air. Its crown sealed tightly over his mouth, holding it open for the nozzle-shaped urethra to aim its flaming jets.
With his face and nostrils caked with thick slime, the terrified human felt himself smothering as the monster continued to feed him. But the Primitive's timing was off, and though it did its best to fill the human's lungs, most of it's deadly reservoir had already been depleted. When there was no more venom to inject into the man, the Primitive yielded, and descended back into its netherworld.
Regaining his senses, Azgard looked around for his friend, then whinnied fearfully when he discovered what he had done. Carefully stepping away from his victim, he set down and turned the man over to allow his mouth to drain. The human vomited gouts of choking essence, then coughed out the rest in between painfully vocal gasps of air. Wiping his face with his good hand, he remained on his stomach, catching his breath while staring at the profusely apologetic face of his attacker.
Azgard whimpered meekly like a sorrowful Labrador. The danger had passed, and he hoped he could communicate that to his friend. Touched and amused by the world's biggest lap dog, Fred smiled forgivingly as he continued to wheeze.
"You've got some issues."
The stallion whickered another apology, then gently cleaned the man's face. Fred let him do so, because no horse had ever done that to him before, and he could think of little else that felt so soothing. But the pleasantness was short-lived, because a secondary emergency now came to alarming attention. Fred's right hand burned with an infection that progressed rapidly up his arm.
He rolled over and sat up in distress, examining the trembling hand that was coated with a muddy concoction of blood, gism and humus. The stallion offered to clean his wound, but Fred pushed him away and got to his feet, grabbing his forearm in a vain attempt to stop the onslaught of the disease.
"What's happening!" he cried, stumbling backwards away from the beast.
"What is the matter?" whinnied Azgard.
The relentless infection reached his elbow, then turned to make the vertical assault up to his shoulder. Whatever was in him was alive, and Fred feared it had designs on his brain. In desperation he removed his belt and formed a tourniquet above his biceps, pulling it so tight that his arm throbbed angrily in protest. The fire reached the blockade within seconds, but the tightly cinched band of leather sufficiently prevented any further progression. Now deprived of oxygenated blood, his arm and hand took on an amethyst hue, and his fingertips tingled with confused and frightened nerve endings that sent out SOS signals for emergency assistance.
Fred ignored his fingers' pleas for help, just grateful that he had halted, for now, whatever it was that was attacking him. But his deep sigh of relief breathed new life into another front smoldering in his lungs, and this wave of microscopic guerillas would not be stopped. His terrified grimace rippled the stiffened ligaments in his neck as the molten magma bubbled up from his chest.
Instinctively, he raised up on his toes and lifted his chin as if to keep his head above the boiling surface of the invisible lake he was sinking into. But the juggernaut continued, and when it flushed past his chin, and then up past his cheeks, and then up past his eyes, he trilled his final words as a human, "Oh... my... G...," and sailed through the universe at warp factor eleven.
[End of _COMPANIONS_ Chapter 23: When Worlds Collide]
[Next in series: Chapter 24: Elastic Collisions]