Off To The Races - Chapter One -
Story by Cederwyn Whitefurr on SoFurry
Parfait, a warmblood three year old, is born to race - the roar of the crowds, the smells of horses, the sheer exhilaration of it - above all - the pride she feels in crossing the line first - its what drives her, compels her to push herself beyond her limitations - wall the while - having to live the life of a lie...
Off To The Races
Chapter One
© Cederwyn Whitefurr
30th March, 2023
All Rights Reserved.
Patreon.com/Cederwyn
My name is Parfait. I'm a Thoroughbred from Dapplebrook Stud. I was born to race, its in my blood – literally – as a warm blood thoroughbred. Now, today, I stand resplendent in my place – amongst others of my kind – locked in the starters gate.
My ears are pricked forwards, my nostrils flaring as my chest expands and contracts, adrenaline filling me from ears to hooves – as I wait, quivering, for the bell and the gates to slam open...
I can see out of the corner of my chocolate brown eye – the human reaching...reaching...
Adrenaline burst into me, my eagerness to run fills me...
Reaching...
Touching...
With a crash, the gates slam open and I spring from the gates, my hooves pounding and lungs feeling like they'll burst from my chest! The exhilaration fills me to overflowing as I...
No...master? What are you doing? No!
My ears flat, I feel the hard bit between my teeth pulling...
He's pulling me back!
Others flash past me!
My competitive urges willing me to chase – to run down – to win at all costs...
Why is my master holding me back?
I drop back again and again, I can hear the roar of the crowd, the cheers and encouragement!
Master, why? I want to scream, to be heard and listened too!
800 metres...
700 metres...
I'm almost last, the shame and guilt fill me! My heart strains, my muscles burning and lungs searing in my chest, yet he still...wait...
600...
500...
400...
He slaps me hard with the whip on the rump, loosens the reins and gives me that which I desire...
My stride stretches – tendons flexing and shod hooves pounding. My eyes narrow behind my lids as I run down the outside stragglers – blast past him as he puffs and wheezes – spent, exhausted – foolish colt, went too hard and broke down...
300...
More, their flanks wet with sweat, as is my own, slip beside me – then behind me,,, that powerful grey up ahead – he runs like he's a human creation – words I do not know try to give me thoughts.
I have one thought...
200 metres!
I wind myself out – straining and galloping for all my body can give! Nostrils flared wide, sucking in air as my hooves stretch and tear at the turf beneath them.
100 metres...
Neck and neck with that grey stallion – he glares at me, his anger evident in the posture of his ears – he stretches further – his muscled neck a lather of sweat, creamy foam flecking his lips as he gasps...
50 metres...
25 metres...
My heart feels like it'll explode – I've never run this fast in my career – my master astride my back screams encouragement into my back swept ears – somewhere – deep inside, his admiration and love touches me – gives me that which my hurting body wants and craves...
My will to win...
I edge out the stallion, I hear his thunderous hoof beats beside me – we're neck and neck...
Five metres...
I streak across the line, the screams of the crowd almost deafening me – my master pumping his fist and standing high in the stirrups as I begin to slow to a canter – a trot – stewards astride their greys come up beside me, one clips a lead rope to my bridle...
Sweat soaks through my body, my lungs ache and feel like they're on fire – muscles are burning and searing...
It's worth it...all of it...
*
Hours later, my photograph taken, wearing my best silks with my colours and number – I stand proud, my master beside me, holding aloft the...
My mind searches for the words my master told me once...
With a toss of my proud, noble head, I endure the painful flashes from the boxes the humans hold up to their faces, making my master happy is what makes me happy!
*
Later, back at my masters stables, he drops the gate and I willingly back out, my faith in him as solid as my love for him. He walks beside me, touching my neck and praising me for my efforts.
“Master," I ask, glancing sideways at him.
He stops, then turns to face me, placing his hands either side of my furred muzzle, gazing into my eyes.
“What is it Parfait?"
I stared at him, then with my broad tongue, licked from lips to forehead.
“Nothing of consequence..."
He laughed, then ruffled my ears, then did that thing that turned my knees to jelly. Right behind my right ear...
“Easy love," He smiled, then stroked my nose. “Lets go get you rubbed down and fed, shall we?"
I nickered in appreciation, then lipped teasingly at his stroking finger, sucking suggestively on his fingers.
“Afterwards?" I asked, ears pricking forwards, and my long tail slashing from side to side. “I won master, I think I deserve more than just a rub down and dinner!"
He smiled, wiggling his fingers in my mouth, then gently pinched my tongue and pulled it out of my mouth.
“Mmph!" I protested – well – about as well as I could...
“Be a good girl..." He chastised me gently, smiling at me.
My nostrils flared and I snorted at him,
He released my tongue, then chuckled again.
“I am a good girl..." I muttered, following in his wake obediently towards the stables.
TO BE CONTINUED...