Collecting the Stallion
While trying to collect a stallion who is less than willing to co-operate, the crew are forced to leave the task unfulfilled. However, Fuzimir has another idea in mind for the unused AI device, warm and cosy with a soft sleeve already in place for his needy length...
This story was posted early on Patreon, approximately one month earlier. If you would like to read stories ahead of time, please take a look at my Patreon!
https://www.patreon.com/arianmabe
Always a pleasure to write for this gentleman! And a different kind of story about collecting a stallion, really tested my knowledge and made me ask some questions! <3
Story (c) Amethyst Mare / Arian Mabe
All chars (c) Fuzimir
Collecting the Stallion
Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)
Commissioned by Fuzimir
_ _
_ _
“Are you sure this is what you want? It doesn’t seem very...ah...nice.”
Fuzimir shook his head and prodded the AI sleeve dubiously, barely able to keep his fingertip with the blunt fingernail – reminiscent of an equine hoof – pressed to it for more than a couple of seconds for how hot the surface was. Huffing and shaking his paw, the appaloosa equine ran his fingers back through his mane and set the sleeve down again, eyeing up his four-legged charge of the day with more than a glimmer of doubt in his eye.
The highly strung Warmblood snorted and pawed at the dirt, flicking back tiny grains as he dug a hole. The footing was too fine, however, to fly very far, designed so that it wouldn’t cause much disturbance when a stallion was in the breeding shed to mount a phantom mare or the AI device itself. If it stuck to an erect equine’s shaft while he was trying to seek his mark, it would not be pleasant. Fuzimir winced in remembered sympathy as Flare bobbed his head, tail flagged high and proud.
“Of course that’s what I like,” he snorted, shaking his head to flip his fluffy, black mane from one side of his neck to the other. “Why would you ask that? I’ve already told you. Do I need to tell you again? I can tell you again – if you need to be told again.”
The anthro equine rolled his eyes, briefly glad that his charge could not do the same.
“It’s not my fault that you’re so picky,” he shot back. “If you just got on with it, we wouldn’t have to go through all this fuss every time.”
“I told you,” Flare nickered with a little prance on the spot. “It’s got to feel right! Otherwise it’s not good! You should know that!”
“Have you got him ready now? You’ve been in here ages, Fuzimir.”
A woman with brown hair scraped back into a tight ponytail wrinkled her nose as she entered the breeding shed, eyes narrowed as she prepared to do her job. After spending her younger years in the bounds of The Pony Club over in the United Kingdom, spending her days handling stallion penises probably was not what Bobby had envisaged for her career. The job, however, kept her around the creatures she loved well enough while her own waited at home for the end of her work day.
“Footing needs sorting again.” Bobby sighed, pushing her toe up to the base of the phantom mare. “We’re wearing a hollow with all the stallions we’re collecting these days. Should I go get Misty?”
Fuzimir smiled gallantly, swinging out his free arm as Flare danced on the end of the lead shank.
“I’m sure she would be absolutely delighted to join us.”
Bobby cracked a smile and shook her head, eyes twinkling with barely concealed mischief as her hard demeanour wavered, just a little.
“Yeah, yeah, I know you two have a thing going. No need to go on about it. That mare tries to give me all the details as it is – doesn’t matter that I can’t understand her words.”
Popping outside, she returned only a moment later with the little black mare in question, who must have been tied up outside. Misty walked sedately into the breeding shed with her ears pricked, eyes on Fuzimir. As the anthro equine blushed, she turned her backside to him, marehood winking as if she had another partner in mind for her fun. But she wasn’t called a teaser mare for nothing. Bobby chuckled dryly, walking past Flare as the stallion swung his head about, nostrils wide and flaring.
“This should get you going, huh, boy?” She crooned to the stallion, holding the mare away at a reasonable distance, her tail already flagged. “Come on now, just let that bad boy out
“Someone would almost think that you had a thing for the stallions too, Bobby,” Fuzimir quipped, one eye on Flare as his front hooves just barely left the floor and he squealed, cock dropping in a thick, fleshy pole of horse-meat. “Hold her steady, I think we’ve got this one.”
“Gotcha. And I bloody don’t!”
“That’s what you say.”
There was no time for further banter as Flare squalled like a yearling, stomping in his usual routine as his tail lashed the air. The hairs whisked by Fuzimir’s shoulder as the stallion swung around, eager to get to the mare and the pleasure that his instinct told him would be far better than the cock slapping his belly. As Misty released a stream of urine, he peeled his upper lip back from his teeth to better take in her scent, front hooves leaving the ground as he mounted the phantom mare like he’d been doing it all his life.
He came down hard and thrust, seeking a mare’s soft warmth as he gripped the stand, lower lip wobbling. Hurriedly, Fuzimir let out the lead shank and slipped back to ease the AI sleeve with the soft water jacket surrounding it down over his pink and black mottled shaft. He grunted, struggling to push it down all the way as the stallion above him squealed, ears dropping back.
Too quickly, it all went wrong – terribly wrong. Flare snapped, teeth closing an inch from Fuzimir’s shoulder, and lashed out with his hind legs, striking out at a supposed foe in an open display of his displeasure. Fuzimir swore, trying and failing to keep the device in place, but the leather encased water jacket was already slipping from his paw as the stallion flung himself off the phantom mare with a squeal that should have come from a mare.
The AI device landed in the dirt with a thud as Flare whirled, rearing up onto his back legs and flinging out his front hooves. Bobby, however, was not one to be so easily intimated and quickly whipped Misty away as the pinned her ears at the twitchy, protesting stallion. She snorted and gave him a wild eye roll. Just what was wrong with him anyway? Why couldn’t he mount the breeding stand so they could both go back to their stalls and chow down on a nice pile of hay?
Honestly. Stallions.
Fuzimir jerked the rope, calling Flare’s focus back to him as Bobby circled the prancing Misty, murmuring to her in a soothing tone.
“What the hell was all that about?” He demanded. “I got it just as you asked me to!”
“Not that tight!” Flare complained, dancing from side to side as his cock drooped and softened. “I don’t like it that tight! Why’d you make it that tight? It was too tight! And hot! Who’d like it like that?”
Fuzimir scowled and threw his paws in the air, lead shank flying with the arc of his paw.
“Well, that’s what you told me to do!”
“Too late, it’s gone now.” The stallion craned his neck around as if to look back under his own stomach as his all too swiftly retreating shaft, ears slanting sideways. “Look, we’ll just have to try this again tomorrow. And can you find me something prettier to look at, please? She’s too small for my tastes.”
Fuzimir bristled.
“Misty is beautiful!”
“Hey now!”
Shouldering him away from Flare, Bobby pushed her way between them, Misty promptly whisked out from the barn in all the commotion.
“Why don’t you get everything put away,” she suggested, although her tone implied that it was more of an order than anything else. “I’ll get Flare sorted. It’s no rush, Maria just wants him taught to do this right. We’ll get there, don’t you worry about that.”
Fuzimir sighed and tugged at his forelock.
“Yes, but I wish we could get it right now. Not just for us, but for him too. It’s no fun for Flare either.”
“Why didn’t you get it to feel right?” The stallion complained, ignoring Fuzimir’s conversation as he rudely butted in. The stallion grunted, sides vibrating as he shook himself. “How’d you like not getting off?”
“Oh, you be quiet.” Fuzimir scowled and jerked his head towards the door, shoulders drawn up and chest set. “Out. Now.”
Bobby took the hint without further questions, closing the door after herself and Flare to leave the anthro stallion alone in the breeding shed with a tight AI and a cock threatening to push through his barn jeans.
Darn collections...
Fuzimir groaned and rubbed the back of his paw against the bulge in his jeans. Misty, the teaser mare, had a certain effect on him – one that he was not all that ashamed to admit to, at least in accepting company. He looked down at the AI, flicking his ears to catch the sound of retreating hooves as his frustration seeped away like rainwater into thirsty ground. The others were gone and there certainly was no reason for them to come back. It didn’t take too long for the thought to seed in the back of his mind, need nudging him in the direction it wanted him to go just like it had made Flare’s cock drop in anticipation of breeding a real, live mare.
He glanced down at the unused device, a masturbatory tool at its best. It had probably cooled down a bit and what would be tight for a four-legged stallion would be just the right fit for an anthro. He swallowed hard, ears twitching. Well, there was no reason to not make use of it while the others were occupied.
Before his mind could catch up with what his body was doing, his paw was around the sleeve while his other paw unzipped his jeans. Back to the door, he flushed hot down his neck and wriggled his clothing down just enough to allow his cock to flop out, tugging down the waistband of his boxers. His dark shaft swelled into the open air as if in relief, but he did not allow the skin to breathe for long as he slid the masturbator down over the soft, flat head and past the medial ring.
Fuzimir swallowed a moan and bucked into the device, leaning on the phantom mare for support. Lord almighty... His upper lip quivered as he suppressed a whinny the best he could, rolling his hips again and again to thrust into that beautifully warm, soft sleeve. He bit down on the inside of his cheek and grunted, tail flagging proudly, imagining in the back of his mind that he was a true stallion – feral like Flare – mounting his sweet Misty as the mare pushed back against him.
Oh yes... His nostrils flared and he snorted, pawing at the ground with one booted foot. His ears flicked back and forth constantly as he huffed and enjoyed his time. How long had it been since he’d last gotten off? It was illicit; he was a teaser pony for the mares! He wasn’t supposed to be pleasing himself – not on his contract!
The stallion pushed the sliver of guilt down, trying to forget that he wasn’t supposed to be doing what he was doing. Who would know? He smirked breathlessly to himself, panting as he ground and humped his full length into the liner, the warmth encasing him as if there really was a mare’s cunny wrapped around his aching, throbbing shaft.
So close... He closed his eyes, striving to hold back, but all he saw was Misty standing in front of him, her marehood winking as she begged him with a low, sexy little nicker to mount her. Fuzimir grunted and, forgetting himself, squealed and stomped, tail lashing the air with every rapid stroke of his pulsing length.
He couldn’t hold out for long and, with the door bumping lightly against the frame behind him, he couldn’t afford to either. With a feral grunt, he shuddered into the sleeve one last time, tail lifted as if to show off to anyone who cared to watch just how virile he was. His flare pushed out into the soft inside of the water jacket and he neighed loudly – too loudly – as his balls pulled up within his boxers to release his load. Spurting in thick, long ropes, he arched and bucked, barely able to keep himself upright as he spent every drop he’d had saved up from all the hours of playing the teaser pony for all the lovely mares at the barn.
Only when his cock softened, his seed utterly spent, did he relax, ducking his head as he gasped for breath, the sleeve still covering his shaft. The skin of his cock twitched, too sensitive in the aftermath, pleasure tingling through his mind like the tease of liquor.
What was that? The equine’s ears pricked, head up and eyes wide. No... It couldn’t be... He was alone. Fear chilled his heart. He had to be alone.
No, he could not mistake that sound – footsteps! Outside!
Fuzimir yanked the AI device off his shaft as if it had burned him and he tossed it aside, flinging away his shame in a moment of panic, the whites around his eyes showing. He forced down a terrified squeal – what if he was caught? – and hurled himself half-clothed to the back entrance, jeans tangling about his knees. Quick, quick, he had to be quick! He tripped and scrambled over his own hooves, whipping around the door frame just as the main door swung open, spilling sunshine into the coolly dim and cut off shed.
The barn owner stepped into the breeding shed, poking her head curiously around the ajar main door. Her hair, shot through with grey streaks, fell across her face, evidence to the lack of dye she had put into it lately. Her eyes could not fail to notice the discarded sleeve, leaking a gleaming trail of semen from the collection bottle, and the scuff marks in front of the phantom mare. Her eyes narrowed as she stepped up to it.
“For heaven’s sake...”
The older woman shook her head, lips pursed as she picked up the discarded sleeve.
“Can they think of anything but their stomachs? Honest to god, the wastage of those people... It’s beyond belief. They could have at least left the collection bottle on the end – how they even forgot to do that is beyond me!”
She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, tipping the collection bottle up carefully to keep as much semen inside as possible. How had the damn thing gotten loose anyway? Her hands really had to stop being so careless with what they were collecting; it was pricey work and all their charges were valuable. Maria shook her head. Semen, after all, was money. And money was something that stable yards would forever be short of.
“And now I’m talking to myself again. How wonderful. You’d think I’d have someone else to chatter along to out here but no, of course not, there’s just me and a bag of stallion semen. Whatever is left in that thing anyway.” She glanced at the cut up dirt, the sand gouged away in long furrows. “Flare’s too, from the look of it. Hm.”
Maria scratched her chin, allowing herself a moment to look at least vaguely impressed as she strode into the little side room of the breeding shed, searching for a suitable container with which to tuck away her ill-gotten gains.
“I didn’t know they’d even managed to collect him. Hm, indeed!”
She smiled and deposited the stud’s offering into a reasonably sized cylindrical tube that could be sealed against all spoiling and keep the precious load safe whether it was frozen or simply used chilled. Gnawing the inside of her cheek, she mused for a moment over whether to put up the notice that his semen was available for use; chilled semen that was fresh or nearly so was, after all, far more desirable than what had been collected and frozen. Breeders knew what they liked to use best and anything from Flare d’Mare would be snapped up nearly instantly, she was sure.
If she hadn’t despaired so much as to the concentration capabilities of her staff, Maria would have congratulated them, but, as it was, all she did was pop the tightly sealed tube into the chilled cabinet with a sticker to denote which stallion it belonged to. Perhaps she would not even have to advertise its availability – not with her friend sending in one of her mares to be covered the very next day. A foal from the two from them, even if it was not a live covering, would undoubtedly please her and set her in the good books for a favour. And favours were harder and harder to come by in the equestrian world.
Maria smiled at her reflection in the cabinet, pacing from the side room with new purpose in her stride. Yes, she’d have to give Juliana a call right away – she’d love to be the first to hear that she could have some of the rarely available semen. And, if her stable hands were at all doing their jobs, she’d be able to sell more of it if they’d sussed out. Maybe that Fuzimir hadn’t been a bad choice to bring into the barn after all and not only as a teaser stallion either. Of course, it was not the conventional way to advertise semen after collecting – most was purchased and then collected – but she was a woman of opportunity and could only be pleased that her stallion was finally making strides in paying his way.
Her job for the moment done, she washed her hands and moseyed into the barn, her eyes already misting over with great plans for what she had previously seen as an excessively picky stallion. The barn thrummed sleepy and quiet with the scent of hay and horse curling down the centre aisle, a set of mucking out tools resting beside the door to the tack room as if one of her staff members was just about to return. Not that she minded. The stallions in the barn nickered on her approach, heads tossing and tails flicking as they nosed into her hands for treats.
“This will keep you here, won’t it, boy?” She said, smiling as she stroked the rather surprised Flare’s nose as he stuck his head out over the stable door. “You won’t have to go anywhere, as long as you keep doing your job and then all of us will be good and happy, won’t we?”
She clucked happily to the stallion who tossed his head and snorted, eyes wild and nostrils flared. Maria chuckled and smoothed the flat of her hand down his cresty neck again and again until he huffed and nuzzled into her shoulder with a look in his eye that only his own kind could have discerned.
“One of these days, I’ll have to ask Fuzimir what you’re really saying to me. I only hope they’re nice things.”
Giving him one last stroke down the length of his fine muzzle, she winked to him and turned on her heel, leaving him to his hay and horse-ness for another evening. He didn’t need mollycoddling from an old coot like her, not in the slightest. The boy knew his job now and that was good enough for her.
She grinned widely, teeth showing.
“With a stallion like you raring to go and always in demand, there will soon be foals trotting around with all the high spirits of their sire – you!”
Elsewhere, Fuzimir lay back on his bunk with a sigh, unaware that plans were already in process for the use of his semen, marked as a load from their show stopper of a stud, while his cock slowly, finally, retreated into his sheath. He closed his eyes, tail flicking as he slipped into a hasty slumber, the after effects of climax all too quickly catching up with him. Although he would not understand quite why he dreamed of prancing foals and grunting studs until many months later.
His foals would be something to behold indeed!