In carnal dream he lay asleep, wrapped in a warm cocoon of
blankets, a lithe Elf-boy, young and not quite innocent.
Frustrated eyes flicked open, brightness born under a shock of
black hair. His nose breathed in huge gulps of air, and his soft lips
parted; shadows shifted over his face. He looked like a diver, just
surfaced, enjoying the very air.
The scent like a rich musk permeated the farm. A powerful smell,
it obscured even the rutty smell of Konya, his brother, the odor of
antler-crowned stud buck that he knew so well. But the smell that the
Elf breathed was the scent of something powerful beyond even words. It
was the distilled essence of mighty male muscles, of the harsh sweat
of
a god, of power and dominion.
His hand came up, covered his eyes, obscured the little lines that
a sudden frown drew across his forehead. His nose twitched in the
night.
Nothing could overcome the secret odor, the one that called to him so.
Smell of thighs sweating. Smell of work in the hot sun. Smell of lust.
Smell of a stallion, running through a sunny meadow, kicking up weeds
into a fog of gold. A stallion, running and running, his heart
pounding
in the wildness of the moment, black mane streaming like a banner.
That
was the source of this perfumed drug that filled the air - a mighty
horse.
The Elf moved his hand from his eyes, curled a bit of black hair
round a finger, thinking and thinking - of the stallion. The white
stallion had come like a ghost this very afternoon to his father's
farm,
in the southern reaches of Konyamiand's Kingdom; the white stallion
that
he had seen while he had been working in the fields. Its image hovered
in his mind. Idealized, it had no real shape - it was more a dream
that
he experienced when he recalled the vision of the white stallion. That
afternoon, as the stallion had passed the Elf as he had worked in the
fields, the stallion had looked at him like no animal had ever done
before. The stallion was an aryanlapt - god-blessed, intelligent as an
Elf, capable of speech with an Elves and with Horses. It had seen him,
not as a dumb beast would, but as ... he was too afraid to think the
thought.
He could not rest. He pulled the sheets down from his chest.
Beauty revealed: his chest, naked and defined, carved by years of
work
in the hot sun. His groin, framing his phallus, swollen (maybe), fat
as
a worm, dangling over his young testicles. He got out of bed, bent
over,
grabbed a leather loincloth and wrapped it tight round his waist. The
glories the Elf-boy hid like a sword sheathed, like a secret
delightful
sin.
He left the farmhouse, walking up the vapor trail. The night was
quiet and still. All the farmhands were asleep. Behind him the house -
full of lusty father and lustier brother - faded, as if dark veil had
been drawn over it.
Ahead loomed the stable.
It was the center of the mighty musk. The stable was a sun,
spreading cuddling rays to dependent planets. He was drawn to it.
The horse, the horse.
The Elf could smell him, the great white horse, tall as a lord, a
shaggy mane like a ripping from the night sky. All that beautiful
smell
washed around him. The Elf was the supreme battlefield. Chemicals
rushed
around and through him, tangled with thoughts. He paused on the
threshold of the stable. The odor wafted round him, nestling in his
armpits, between his pectorals, in his boy-fragrant groin. He stood,
and
thought, and trembled, a teenager drowning in a rage of hormones.
With his foot he made a subtle motion - forward, onto the straw-
strewn floor of the stable. The dust of the courtyard brushed off his
feet. Thought had won in him. The Elf-boy, just barely a man, slinked
forward, a supplicant seeking immense richness, seeking a divine gift,
seeking communion with the gods. The odor was the pathway to the
heavens.
His link with the horse, his dark hair, black on unblemished white
skin, trailed lankly between his shoulder blades. His skin, smooth as
polished alabaster, was like a shimmer of moonlight on a still pool.
His
hair, black, shaggy, darker than shadow. The link was all-important
for
what he now sought, the only reason he could think of to justify his
petition.
Naked chest gleamed like silver in the dimness, and two nipples
like eyes stared out from cupped, firm pectorals. Across his washboard
stomach shadows rippled, a brook laughing over stone. Curls of black
hair kissed his delicate, sweet navel, and descended in enticing line
below the level of his kilt. Buttocks as ripe as swelling melons lay
shrouded beneath the thick leather; a dark furrow split the twin
halves,
from there (though the Elf was unable to smell it) came another
wonderful smell, the perfect complement to the fragrance of the
stallion. The Elf-boy's promised yielding, opening; the stallion's
proclaimed mighty, raging energy.
Lusting air kissed his naked muscled thighs.
Other horses were stabled there: he knew their names. Huryada,
Tyiript, Aulyor, horses only not aryanlapt. And ears picked up and
heads
bobbed in surprise at his intrusion. But the Elf had no nose for them.
He breathed the air, electricity tickled his lungs. A sorcerer must be
nearby, stirring almond vapors into the magic air. The odor did not
belong to these horses. It was the stallion that the Elf-boy sought.
It
was his first quest into the heart of quivering magics, and it was the
vision that the odor brought, the wonderful thoughts of streaking
through highland meadows, racing sunlight, hooves slicing through tall
dried grass ... and thighs pumping and pumping and pumping. The sweet
smell: sweat and musk.
Then he stopped, a shadowed form in the dark, an Elf-boy caressed
by lusting moonlight.
The stallion more than justified the promise of the musk.
Tall and proud it stood, luminous in its stall, a circle of
pearlescent light around it. A god's hands had shaped the equine
marble
of its muscles into a vision of beauty. Wash of odor like sweat
bursting
out swept through the stable.
Proudly, it tossed its head as it saw the Elf-boy. And it fixed
dark eyes on him, and the boy, so tender, so young, so perched on the
edge of the forbidden, was caught, lifted, spun around, and plunged
into
the sweet welcome there. Gazes locked. The horse was the center of an
engulfing storm. Its odor was sacred. The boy sucked in the odor and
held it within in, carried along, drunk with the moment, too afraid to
speak.
* * *
The stallion saw the Elven beauty outside his stall. And it was
delighted, it would have smiled had the gods given it that ability.
There was a wonderful, fiery tension in him; a jagged bolt of
lightning
flashed from his heart to his groin. The boy had come.
The horse had come this very day, to this farm, led by a guide
from the city of Kyulon-Lirren. They had plodded (because the guide
was
so slow) down a long, dusty, sun-drenched road, through the hills
surrounding this little farm. It was in the outer fields that the
horse
had seen this Elf, and it was in the outer fields that the horse had
begun to lust after him. There the boy had been, so sweet, so tender,
so
yielding, but so male - bent over in the fields, working, filmed by
hard-earned sweat. The boy had looked back at him, into the stallion's
eyes. The stallion had seen through the layers of guilt and repression
to the boy's darkest, deepest, most hidden thoughts.
The guide had plodded on, coming to the farmhouse itself. Deals
were worked out, between farmer and the guide, and the stallion was
led
into the stalls for bathing and cleaning. The horse had noted all the
others there - horses, donkeys, even goats - and its genitals had
swollen with the thought of all the equine strength he could take
here.
Not a full erection, just a subtle statement of desire. But all his
thought had been on the dark-haired beauty from the fields, and his
nut-
brown, tight body.
Now he was here, in the stalls, in the dark of the night,
enraptured by the sight of the stallion.
An equine tongue licked equine lips and a stallion's brain thought
ultramasculine thoughts. A stallion - the creature that sought to
reduce
all the universe to a hole that could be filled by its ever-ready
never-
drained phallus. And this stallion, made by Aradd God of Love and sent
into the world to rule masculinity, had long ago conceived of a
different task. This stallion had never had an Elf sexually, its
talents as a sexual machine had never been appreciated in
Kyulon-Lirren.
All its desires, all its frustrations, it had vented into others of
its
kind.
But here was a boy, born on a farm, surrounded by the natural
forces of the earth, entrapped by the lusty, easy power of animals. A
country boy, a fusion of dirt, sweat, and song.
The stallion wanted to sink his phallus into poetry itself: this
Elf-boy.
In silence the stallion watched as the boy at last moved and
climbed over into his stall. He saw muscles bleed through the skin,
how
the damnably tantalizing loincloth hiked up, how the lightly-furred
teenaged testicles hung like sweet fruit between his thighs. The horse
sniffed, smelt the clean scent of the boy, his symphony of odors. The
horse licked his lips with a shiny tongue. An electric tingle began in
the horse's mighty testicles; a thigh muscle twitched.
Softly the horse moved to position himself. It was the equine
pattern - do not reveal what the postulant seeks until the proper
time.
He faced the object of his desire at a slight angle, presenting his
right side, a posturing designed to reveal his strength but cloak the
glories. The boy, with his loincloth wrapped tight round his
sweetness,
was doing the same - good, the horse approved.
* * *
The Elf-boy, caught up in the spell, felt his heart hammer and
throb. He was forbiddingly excited. The musk like a syrup lay thick in
the air. His delicate nose sniffed it, caressed it with moist innards.
The scent was a tangle of ropes, all leading towards the horse's
secret
places, the places it girded with shadow.
The horse spoke, in a deep voice, lower than thunder. "Who are
you? And why have you come here?"
The boy's tongue stuck fast. His name had been about to spill out,
for he must obey this lordly horse's commands. But the second
question,
the bald demand, stopped his answer in his throat. The boy dreaded
what
he had come for. He had his own question, but how to ask it? What was
the ritual?
"Who are you?" the stallion asked again.
"I am - " the boy began, in a gentle boy's voice, his words silky,
loving. "I am Salanu." An electric shimmer quivered his hair-kissed
testicles.
"Salanu," said the horse, slowly. "Salanu - it is a name worthy of
you. Now. Why have you come into my stall?"
The horse's stall, not Salanu's father's stall. No, no, the horse
was the master here. The master, on four strong legs, with ...
The horse took a simple step forward, its radiance filling
Salanu's upturned face. "Why have you come to me?"
"Because you're so fucking beautiful," Salanu breathed, so
teenager, so hormone-centered.
"So people tell me. My name is Rihumme."
The horse craned his neck forward slightly, entering the space
that belonged to the boy, breathing in the scent of Salanu (scared,
exhilarated, elated). Rihumme the white stallion locked the boy deep
into black eyes, enjoying the Elf-boy's beautiful face - the pattern
and
curve of shadow upon parted panting lips. Enchanted the horse drew
closer. His nostrils hovered onto a few inches from Salanu's
pectorals.
No smell of sweat now, just boy unadulterated, so sweet, heavenly. The
stallion began to trail downwards through the aura of smell, sniffing
nose dropping lower and lower. The smell of teenaged male Elf:
tendril
of testosterone like an aphrodisiac, whiff of semen like a
hallucinogen.
Rihumme was not looking at the boy now, his eyes closed. In a world
of
darkness he tasted the boy. The horse's questing nose dropped lower
and
lower, beneath the lower edge of the tight loincloth. The scent
changed.
Ambrosia. Rapture. The true odor of the boy.
Salanu trembled as the horse inhaled him. He swirled into illegal
dream. The hot breath of the horse was on his chest, then lower and
lower. Blood gushed into his hot young cock.
The horse opened his eyes. His nose was nearly between the muscled
thighs. He was staring at the shape of a tube, hidden beneath the thin
leather, and he was breathing Salanu's ball sweat and anal sweat. He
could feel the boy's incredible tension. Rihumme's nose tickled with
the
secret electricity Salanu emitted between his legs.
The horse lifted his head. Something beautiful began to happen
beneath the loincloth. Salanu elongated, awakened, stiffened into
youthful power and glory.
"Boy," said the horse, "why are you here?"
"You're my fucking beautiful master." He gasped the words. "I
don't know what's happening ... " He trailed off, near tears from
confusion.
"Come see what's happening to me," the horse commanded. He turned,
stripped the shadows away from between his back legs, proudly
revealing
himself to Salanu.
Horse balls hanging, swollen, huge, covered with skin like
leather, hair-studded, sweaty. Candy. Center of the smell, the horse-
musk that ruled the night. Twin wizards of masculinity, guarded on
either flank by thick-muscled thighs. They commanded Salanu's
obedience.
A flood of saliva filled the Elf-boy's mouth: candy.
The great cock lay sheathed in a leather scabbard, hanging beneath
the horse, a great weapon hidden yet fruitful with potential. Sweat
dripped from it. Salanu wanted to taste that sweat. His knees weakened
at the sight of the royal penis. He wanted to kneel.
But something began to happen.
A pink dot appeared at the end of the sheath, like an eye opening.
A sliding nose, rustling, silk sliding on leather, as the dot
lengthened, took on form, entered a second dimension. The horse was
getting hard. Rihumme's eyes slitted over with the pleasure of getting
an erection. A snort escaped him as he felt the pure power of his
penis
becoming hard. Like a snake wriggling from its hole the pink cock
emerged, glistening, night air welcomes it. Long, hard, thick, inch
after inch, equine powerful, mighty, on and on, as if it will never
in.
Twenty-five inches of masculinity, the pride of the stallion.
The horse was erect. So was its boy.
Rihumme, white stallion, enjoyed the glorious energy that now
blazed between his legs. His balls were heavy and silvery and steamy.
He
must join, fate has decreed; the stallion must mount. And enjoying
his
erection he enjoys the sight of the Elf-boy, his agape mouth, his
suddenly increased smell, the magic they made between themselves.
"Oh ... oh ... oh," Salanu said, little chants, a little chant
coming out of the eroticism of the moment. His eyes were slits, as if
he
was seeing into a different realm.
Rihumme's head again bent forward, his shiny horse-tongue emerged,
touched Salanu's left nipple which sprang instantly erect. Salanu
cried
out in pleasure, but the tongue swirled around still. The horse was
at
last touching the Elf-boy. The tongue danced, Rihumme tasted his boy,
his cock throbbed, a dripping sword sheathed in the air. The boy's
chest
glistened as if dusted with diamond.
Teenaged male Elf. O the power of testosterone. Salanu's eyes
closed, and he sighed in rapture. A long fat tube lived in confined
quarters beneath his black leather loincloth, an unsubtle sign of his
arousal.
Ball-musk, anal sweat of sweet boy, smell of erect stud stallion,
all mingled in the night air.
Salanu was in a trance. He was aware that the horse had ceased to
tongue his chest, he could feel the presence of Rihumme's erection:
the
very air crackled. He saw a glowing vision: this splendid white
horse,
its black mane its banner, racing across a golden meadow, its strong
legs pumping, its mighty muscles contracting, Salanu on his back, a
part
of the glorious image, naked, his own hair streaming, his thighs
clamped
tight to the writhing mass that was Rihumme's back. O what perfection
to
be part of nature, to join with it, to be its servant.
Sweat streaked his dreaming face; he was on fire for the stallion,
its erect masculinity, for the seed boiling like molten silver in its
swollen balls.
"Boy," Rihumme said.
A flood of precum burst from Salanu's penis. The horse was too
erotic. He could not control himself. He had nothing but dreams
before,
he had never been with anyone sexually. It was as if he had waited all
his fourteen years just for this one moment. He said, "Yes, oh yes?"
drifting up out of his trance.
"What is your name?" The stallion asked this again; he was
following equine ritual.
"I ... I am Salanu." He looked at the horse, its immense erect
tool gleaming like a fat spear between its thighs. Salanu couldn't
believe how huge the horse was. "Oh gods, what's happening?"
"You know what is happening," said the aryanlapt, voice crooning,
seductive. "Do you want it to stop?" An easy question to ask, because
there was no danger of refusal. The boy's hunger sharpened his scent,
made his desire plain, made the night all the sweeter.
"No, no ... but -"
"You, boy, are in rut. You want this." The horse twitched his
twenty-five inch erection proudly. Rihumme felt its heavy blood-gorged
weight between his aching thighs. "You want me. I called to you, when
I
smelled you this afternoon."
"What did you smell?"
An Elvish question, no mare nor a passive stallion would ever ask
such a question. It was not part of the equine ritual - but here they
were making a bridge, between Elf-boy and horse. A new service would
have to evolve here.
"I smelled a boy who trembled on the edge. Who was ready to become
a man. Who dreamt of - what his kind forbids. Who sought someone to
bring that dream to life - and knew who that one was when he saw me. I
have been waiting for you, as you have been waiting for me. You are
mine. You are for me. I am for you."
"Are we to mate?"
And with great pleasure the stallion noted that the Elf-boy had
said mate, had not used an Elvish term - not fuck, not screw. He'd
chosen the equine term, the term that another stallion who Rihumme had
selected to rut in would use.
Rihumme caught the boy with his great dark eyes, those pools of
night, and he saw a film of sweat glistening on the boy's upper lip
like
fuzz of a peach. A strand of black hair - the boy's own dark mane,
their
link - fell in delicate curves toward eyes now staring wide open at
the
glorious spectacle of the aroused stallion. Rihumme looked at the boy,
gloried in the feeling his erect cock gave him. He wanted this. For so
long he'd sought to mate with masculinity, to drive his penis into it,
to mount it and make it his own He had first given his penis to
mares,
because that was all he knew. Then he had discovered that stallions
lusted after him, and he had learned to give them what they sought:
his
cock buried in their bucking asses, pumping and stroking them. But it
was not satisfying, not completely. Masculinity was a teenaged Elf,
beautiful as an orgasm. His quest was over, he had found the Grail.
"Are we to mate?" Salanu repeated.
"Yes," said the horse.
Precum trickled down Salanu's sweating thigh.
"You are my mate," said Rihumme.
Salanu was swimming in a forbidden dream, drinking in the
overpowering waters, surrendering to the death. "How?" he asked
blindly.
"How? How are we to mate?" He had seen animals do it - but he never
had done it. What was there to do, how was he to pleasure this horse?
"Take your sarong off," Rihumme ordered. "I want to see what's
mine." The boy was in his power; the animal commanded. The boy was
prisoned in the powerful smell roaring out from the erect stallion's
swollen balls. A shiny droplet of precum appeared on the pink tip of
Rihumme's arm-thick cock.
Salanu stripped. His long Elvish prick at last revealed: nine
inches of glory, hard as a stone. It smacked up against his flat
belly,
vibrant with new life. Its head was the color of a plum, the balls
beneath swollen with silver seed. Gentle dark hairs, soft like the
breath of a lover, nested round the root of his prick. Naked the
Elf-boy
was glorious. An Elf, teenaged male, naked and erect for the erect
stallion. Cool air kissed his thighs. A bead of moisture glistening
like
a fragment of a star dropped from his armpit onto the hay.
Salanu trembled, out of control, swirling out of reality into a
fantasy he'd long desired. How he wanted this. What a spell
twenty-five
inches of hard animal cock could work. The horse was the power of his
universe, forgotten were family and friends, there was only this
magnificent beast who stood revealed in all his lust for Salanu. The
horse was the luminous center of everything, and Salanu moaned,
irradiated with the prurient light streaming from the horse. He left
the
realm of solitary fantasies, leapt from dreams of the unknown male
world into reality. He was blazing a trail into a new world.
Distantly, through his fogging excitement, he felt the horse's
rough tongue begin to lick him again.
"How?" he breathed. The horse was so close to him, so large, so
lordly.
"Do you want it?" Rihumme asked. The ritual. He pulled away from
the tightly muscled chest. He looked at the beauty in front of him.
Never had he had an Elf; what a catch this one was. A droplet of
precum
fell from his cock.
"I want it."
"There is a ritual to go through. You must complete it, with all
your heart, with all your mind, before we may mate. You must say it
all,
bring it all out of you, make it true."
"Yes . . ."
"Say you are in rut."
"I am in rut."
"Say you will be my mare."
"I will be your mare."
And the crowning gesture, the heart of the meaning of the ritual:
one slow pump of Rihumme's hips, an arrogant thrusting of his
gargantuan
tool forward as if he was sinking its length into a luscious, phantom
asshole. A slow demonstration of his power, of his dominance, of who
was
the Male here.
Rihumme said: "Say you must mate with me."
"I have to mate with you. I need to mate with you. Oh shit, I must
to mate with you!" If he had any reluctance left in him, those slow
pumps of the horse's hips would have erased it.
With a voice of steel Rihumme commanded: "Go get a stool."
The Elf-boy went to the stall door, presenting his sculpted back
to the horse: the knobs of his spine, regularly spaced, the muscles
of
his back spreading round it like the hood of a cobra; the strong boy-
muscled thighs, virile, powerful. And Rihumme saw for the first time
the
place that he would penetrate, the place that would open for a cock
for
the very first time - the very unfeminine ass. Polished marble hard as
stone, tight, clasping as his guarding the portals to paradise. The
dark
furrow kissed with the softest of black down releasing the scent of
yielding and opening.
The horse drooled another drop of precum.
Salanu grabbed the stool from outside, pulled it over the door. He
sat it down in front of Rihumme like an offering. He saw the horse's
cock again. He whimpered, fearing and loving what he knew was to come.
He was a slave here, the horse was master. The horse and its boy; the
horse and its mate.
"Good," said Rihumme soothingly. There was a tinge of fear in the
Elf-boy's odor. He did not want him fleeing - not now. "You are quick.
Do you want me still? Will you still accept me in you?"
Salanu said: "I am in rut! Shit fuck shit, I'm in rut!" He
bounced back and forth from foot to foot, his cock too rigid to
vibrate,
for it stood up tight against his flat belly.
"Bend over the stool," Rihumme ordered.
Salanu turned, bent at the waist, laying his saliva- and sweat-
streaked chest on the wooden grain of the stool. He spread his legs
wide
in invitation. His dark hair flowed forward like a night tide across
the
nape of his neck, into his impassioned eyes. All those visions, the
farmboy lusts he'd had while growing into young manhood, those
forbidden
things he'd imagined on hot nights when he'd had no relief except his
fist and his fantasy - they were so weak, so pale, next to the vital
reality of the horse, his master, Rihumme his stallion, standing just
behind his opened ass.
The stallion circled his bent-over boy once, examining him,
strutting now, the conquest done, the victory his. The long cock
protruded between his back legs glistened in the pale light, huge and
powerful. Yes, this was his vision of the way it should be. An Elf,
cheeks spread, waiting for Rihumme's monster penis, masculinity
offered
up to the master of masculinity.
He stopped behind the boy, bent his head forward again. His eyes
closed; he guided himself in through the heavenly scent. His ears
flattened against the sides of his skull.
Gently, he tongued Salanu's ass. O what a taste. The Elf-boy
sighed in unimaginable rapture. The horse's tongue swept up the crack,
licking up sweat and scent of the boy. It was too much - he snorted, a
signal of his own pleasure.
"Has anyone ever taken you here?" His tongue slid up and down
Salanu's crack, a loving eel of pleasure.
"No ... no, they've wanted to, but I wouldn't let them ..."
"I will take you here. I will be your first lover. I, Rihumme, the
stallion, will mount you and love you. I will join to you, horse to
boy,
and you will be as a mare for me."
"O, I will."
"Are you my mare?"
"I am your mare forever! I am in rut! I want to mate now!"
So did Rihumme. It was time. It was time. The horse ritual over,
the boy's surrender to his equine phallus was complete. He would take
the boy. No more waiting.
The horse's tongue licked Salanu's ass again, to ease the entrance
of the mighty organ. It probed between those hard muscled melons,
licking up the crack to the base of Salanu's spine, slurping downwards
over the blazing hot and acrid asshole to the boy's fertile balls.
Salanu spread his legs even wider, making the invitation more obvious.
The horse moved in closer, driving his nose between the boy's cheeks,
inhaling the scent while precum drooled off his mighty phallus in a
continuous stream.
Salanu in his ecstasy moaned. O how he wanted this. His innards
itched with his desire. He needed the twenty-five inch cock, the
horse's
pink male tool. The boy needed to mate with the animal, the boy was in
sexual heat, it was time.
The tongue was maddening as it caressed his secret places. It
brought incredible pleasure to him, exciting electric pleasure. It
touched the gates the stallion would breach, that hidden hole between
his legs. Salanu wanted to be penetrated, opened; he had to yield
himself to the animal. "Now, now, now, make it now!"
The tongue withdrew. The horse backed up to inspect his handiwork. The
ass was shiny with his spit. Precum trickled off Rihumme's glistening
cock. The taste of the boy was in the horse's mouth: almonds.
It was time.
The horse mounted the boy.
Salanu felt himself enclosed in warm furry musculature. The ball
musk assailed his nostrils. The horse was around him, above him.
Something hot as a glowing coal prodded between his cheeks. He
felt it maneuvering around, seeking his asshole. He shifted his ass,
to
give it the access it demanded. He was a slave, to pleasure the
animal.
Gently the horse entered.
The cock pressed inwards. Pressure built up against the ring of
muscle guarding his virginity. Salanu exhaled slowly, clenched his
eyes,
relaxed. The sphincter opened - and opened - and opened. The mighty
lance was entering. He pushed back, accepting the mighty length the
horse was feeding him. Pop - something gave.
Salanu screamed. The horse was inside him.
The horse paused, his apple sized prickhead pushed just inside the
clasping, mouthing anus, wedging it open. "Am I hurting you?"
"NO!"
Rihumme felt the tight ring of muscle clamping down on his length.
He no longer cared if he hurt the boy. He was master, he would take
his
pleasure. He slid forward, moving in ever so slowly. The ring of
muscle
travelled slowly up Rihumme's cock, like a tight clasping hang. The
horse-cock sank slowly into moist heaven.
Sublime, sublime, the sensation of being filled. The mighty
instrument moved steadily into Salanu. His mouth hung open, agape at
the
pleasure he felt.
Rihumme eased into the Elf, slowly, carefully, withholding his
full power. He stifled his urge to slam it to the boy, to shove his
three feet of meat into the Elf-boy in one mighty blow. Inch by inch
the
monstrosity of his cock slid in. The damp interior of Salanu's asshole
opened around it. It sank deeper and deeper up the back passageway,
twisting and turning up the course of the intestines, massive animal
cock thrusting aggressively deeper and deeper.
"Ohhhhh..." Salanu moaned in delight. The horse was deep in his
guts. The glory of the entry had gone on for minutes. Then he felt the
hot, hairy balls of Rihumme against his upturned butt.
The horse was in the boy. Salanu hung impaled on cock. He had
taken it all. The horse had taken his virginity from him. All the
world
filled his asshole.
"I am in you, Salanu," Rihumme said. Then he began to draw his
phallus back, very slowly, feeling the mucous-lined walls go sliding
past his length. He was powerfully in control of the boy. He could
hear
the boy whimper his delight.
Rihumme pulled fifteen inches of cock out of the boy, till he
could feel the boy's anal muscles clamp down, trying to shit the arm-
thick mass out. Then he pushed back in, using those powerful muscles
in
gentle loving fashion, giving the boy what he sought: beastiality,
and
twenty-five inches. What a glorious feeling. Rihumme's cock again sank
in deep, till his balls met Salanu's white butt. Slick hot flesh
wrapped
round his cock. The boy, spread-eagle, lay impaled on his cock.
"Oh, yes," they said.
Then out again, a little faster, the long tool slurping out of the
ass, pink flesh glistening. Salanu felt his guts close back up as the
horse withdrew from his body. Then the horse ground forward again,
faster, coming closer to the style of fucking he longed to give the
boy.
He knew he must be gentle, till the boy's inside had adjusted to the
mighty invader, but he wanted to writhe and buck and thrust and pant,
to
churn in the boy, hips humping, flanks sweaty. But not yet, not yet,
not
until the boy had truly become his mare.
Salanu felt open, split, the mighty cock filling him with a
burning erotic pressure. He gave his musky, secret interior to the
lordly stallion and its cock, the thick throbbing cock. The long
thrust
in till balls rested against his ass; long slide out, till he writhed
in
a need-filled void. The rhythm of the fucking slowly quickened. Sweat
streamed down his face; he began to buck his parted ass up at the
horse,
loving the stallion back, showing his blazing need, revealing the
fiery
nature of his rut. He was open, so open, to the thrusting, questing
cock.
Faster and faster Rihumme began to churn, his eyes clouded with
lust. He felt Salanu reaching back to him, felt his heavy sperm-filled
balls bouncing against the Elf-boy's alabaster ass. He gloried in the
fuck. His prickhead buried deep into the boy felt so fucking far away
from him. The arrogant cockshaft shouldered aside Salanu's sphincter,
arrowing in, erotic squishing noises coming from where stallion and
Elf
joined. His balls ached, swollen with cum; how sweet and cool and
silky
Salanu's butt felt against them as he drove his dick deep into the
boy.
Rihumme took the boy and ruled him. He whinnied - purely equine, too
far
gone into the fuck. He puffed and snorted, drove with his powerful
hips
his fat twenty-five inch cock up the Elf's violated ass. Onwards and
onwards he rose, toward bliss, churning faster, starting to loose his
civilization, starting to throw into the Elf the fucking he desired.
He
surrendered to the sensations streaming from his cock.
Salanu clenched his fists, groaned as the horse began to slam
shock wave after shock wave into him. He arched his back, felt the
horse's belly rub against it. He could feel the huge prickhead of the
horse churning somewhere deep in side up, riding up and down his dank
guts.
"I am your mare, I am your mate," he muttered through clenched
teeth, his lust turning the words into a growl.
Cock slammed into butt, his vision dimmed with the powerful
thrusts. His own cock, so puny compared with the erect magnificence of
the horse, was stone-hard, dripping a sweet liquid. The horse stuffed
again and again the slippery arm-thick phallus into his rectum.
The pace picked up, the violence. Salanu reached back, enveloping
more of the animal's cock with his tender body. "I am yours, I am
yours."
There Rihumme lost control. He let loose, becoming a mighty stud
stallion, hammering a volley of thrusts into the slut boy he ruled,
fucking his begging hole. Quick violent movements, pure animal, long
cock a blur as it emerged and sank it. Loud grunting noises but no
words, all necessary communication coming through the hard shaft the
horse had between its legs. Fuck fuck fuck. Drive the meat in faster.
The hot release was coming so close. The fuck ruled: Rihumme
envisioned
an endless line of dark-haired boys, all waiting for him, naked; he
imagined mounting them all, one after another, slotting them with his
ever-erect cock. He could hear Salanu's cries of pleasure. He drilled
the boy's canal harder, rutting in his ass.
"More more more, O gods more, horse you fucking stud, slide it in
me slide it in hard ..."
The horse was now fucking Salanu as if he was another animal. The
thrusting power was absolute. Silver jism boiled in their balls, ready
to spill. Salanu pushed his spread ass back into the thrusts wantonly,
skewering himself on the shaft of pleasure, questing for more, ever
more. Rihumme's balls beat a tattoo on his ass. The cock slammed into
him. All around him the sweaty, heady smell of a fucking animal,
muscles, penis, precum, balls, so close to the world's vital energy.
The
cock sliced, butted into him.
Boy-riding horse slathered cock into spread ass, ramming
powerfully forward, ruling with erect cock, trembling with illicit
thrill, battering boy-butt with bloated balls.
Horse-fucked boy yearned backwards into the rigid axis of the
thrusts. The cock was a bridge - horse and Elf united.
"Ahh ... shit shit fuck, horse, stud, lord ... I'm coming -"
Salanu cried out, fingers curling into a fist. A hot fire blazed
in his balls, rose higher like lava up his tubes. A blinding light
burst
in his skill. He screamed, the pleasure too much. A long squirt of
jism,
silver teenager's cum, a jewel, streamed out. He fired off his load,
pumping it and pumping it. Grey ropes of cum netted his thighs. He
shot
and shot, vomiting it out of him, his balls spasming in his orgasm. It
went on, he could not stop shooting, the orgasm eternal. The driving
force of twenty-five inches of cock up his ass wouldn't let him break
the orgasm.
"Ohh, ohh, it's shooting, I'm blowing it, fuck fuck fuck, don't
stop, I can't stop coming ..."
On the boy, on his thighs, cum - redolent of masculinity.
The squirming boy drove the horse over the edge.
Rihumme felt the anal ring clamp down round his mighty cock, heard
the boy's cries. He grunted, panted, fucking. The boy's orgasm was a
ripple of heaven along the length of his cock. He could hear Salanu's
cum splattering hotly on the hay. Slice the cock into him. The boy,
the
boy, the smell of his cum ...
Rihumme's eyes rolled up into his head. The horse came.
A flood of jism erupted from his equine cock. The stallion jammed
his dick up Salanu's ass to the roots. He fired his jism. It flooded
from the horse, squirting like a fountain into the Elf-boy. Ceaseless
spurts pumped grey fragrant cum up into Salanu, hosing him, flooding
his
bowels, soaking him with its animal essence. It blustered out of the
asshole, between cock and anal pucker, rolled down his legs, over his
balls, a grey tide smelling of the sexual potency of the horse. It was
as if Rihumme was firing a jet of cum into Salanu's guts. Rihumme in
silence shuddered, pouring his jism out, filling the boy's ass beyond
overflowing. The hot liquid poured back along his cock, ran out of the
ass, onto the hay.
They shot and shot, spasms of ecstasy wracking them, balls
clenching, cocks jetting.
When the explosions died away there was a silence broken only by
their panting. Salanu collapsed onto the stool, lost in a golden
dreamland. His cock remained rock hard. The horse's cock was softening
slowly, but it was still jammed up his butt, floating on a sea of grey
cum. The fat phallus slowly softened, became more like flesh than
stone.
Salanu felt it slowly began to withdraw. Horse-musk surrounded him,
the
source a inch-thick pool of cum of the hay, the tide on his legs and
balls and up his ass ...
Rihumme with a movement of his hips began to slide his cock out of
the boy. It slinked back down Salanu's intestines. With a whispering
slurp the head burst out of the ass. A flood of cum exploded out. The
cock dangled beneath Rihumme's belly, long still, full of promise,
gleaming wetly, redolent of stud horse and slut boy. It was retreating
slowly back into the great leathery sheath.
It was over, they were two separate entities again. It was
blissful but not sad. The thrill of the act hung in the air; it would
never be lost. Rihumme was ... satiated, for the while. He had taken
masculinity at last, it was all that it promised. He'd mated with it,
ruled it with his cock. The boy, so pretty, so male, had worshipped
the
stallion with his tight ass. The god's offering - the grey tide - lay
strewn on the hay, on the boy's thighs and balls, between his
buttocks,
up his ass.
The horse dismounted.
Now devoid of erotic tension the air was silent and still.
Salanu slumped in repose over the stool, awash in bliss as his
asshole burbled with slowly escaping jism. His trembling legs, wide
spread still, were an invitation for any male to mount him. He gulped
in
the air, sweat caressing his face, his brain afire with the
unutterable
pleasure he'd felt ram up into his guts. He could not think. The
afterglow of their mating warmed him, though, succored him against the
post-coital depression that lurked as it seemed in the nearby shadows.
The deep bond, the ecstatic union, now broken between them, the
horse stood away from the heavenly boy. The pink cock like an
elephant's
trunk swung between his hind legs, wet, glistening like oiled leather.
It retracted slowly back into him, a snake returning to its den.
Rihumme
cast his gaze upon Salanu. Dripping jism caked the boy's thighs, a
grey
flood covered the tops of his toes, the hay was soaked. Gray fragrant
ropes of teen jism were draped over the legs of the stool.
There was a silence in which Salanu dreamed of the consequences of
being in perpetual rut, like a human female. Then he asked: "Was I
good
enough? Are you satisfied?"
"Salanu," Rihumme said gravely, "you do not yet know the way of a
stallion, so I forgive you your question. Had you served as mare to
any
stallion, and had not satisfied him, he would have mounted you again
immediately and ridden you hard with the phallus that you were too
weak
to drain of its offering. He would show you your foolishness, as he
fucked you, and give to you for the final time the cock you didn't
deserve."
Salanu half-nodded, quietly lay his head on the stool.
"Boy. Look at me."
Obeying the master's command, Salanu turned his head. The warm
sight of a stallion post-coital. A dreamy smile curled on his lips, a
smile of deep satisfaction and even deeper longing.
"Look at my cock."
The great pink staff had paused in its retreat into its armored
sheath, on display. A rush of pleasure stirred in the jism-filled
depths
of Salanu's bowels.
"Am I erect? No. Not now. This is because your ass satisfied my
lust for you. This is because you satisfied me. I am satisfied, as I
never have been before."
Salanu closed his eyes. The words soothed a deep fear that he had
felt, had felt even when all he'd had was his masturbation fantasies -
that he, a mere Elven boy, could never hope to truly satisfy such a
magnificent beast as a stud stallion. "I am glad," he said
breathlessly.
"I am so glad. I would forever be your mate, if you would but have
me."
What lust that phrase kindled in Rihumme. Erotic images flooded
the aryanlapt's mind. He would fuck this beautiful dark haired Elf for
eternity, flooding his tight ass with his fragrant grey tide. He would
die with his mighty dick sliming the boy's innards with evidence of
his
lust.
The stallion watched Salanu slide wearily off the stool and drop
to the hay. The boy was sitting in a pool of cooling jism that had
farted from his ass when Rihumme had cum in it. He sat with crossed
legs: the lower half of his smooth balls sank into the rich layer of
cum. The boy sighed, his nose twitching as he breathed in the very
essence of the horse. Salanu scooped up a handful of cum, smelt it.
"Oh
... " he breathed. "I can't believe you've actually given something
this
... beautiful, wonderful, to me."
"All I make in my balls is yours," Rihumme said.
"All you make in your balls I want," Salanu said. "You don't know
how long I've dreamed for this moment, this time, when I could sit
down,
after having given my ass to the beast I lusted for."
"You have longed to fuck animals?"
"Yes. Always. Since I was a boy. I remember watching two dogs fuck
once, when I was little. It was so exciting, the way he mounted her
after she had accepted him. He just reared up with that pink cock of
his
- that pink cock, I can still remember it! It was bigger than mine.
Then he stuck it in her -- hard! I still jack off thinking about it."
"Do you like all kinds of animals?"
"Yes," Salanu said. "But I like stallions for their lustiness. And
the size of their pricks." He grinned.
"Why," asked Rihumme, "do you desire horses so? Alone, out of
your race, do you want to mate with me? Why is your kind so adverse
to
mating with me? I've seen many Elves look upon me with lust, male and
even female, but none have ever had the courage you had. I know that
for
the most part, Elven females come into heat only rarely, and that
Elven
males seek solace with each other. But why do they not also seek
animals
to satisfy that lust with?"
"They are fools," Salanu spat. Then he laughed. "They are fools.
They do not know what fucking is about."
"They are." Rihumme nodded. Then he said, "You realize that I
will not stay here."
A horrified look spread across Salanu's face. "What?"
"A stable is not my place. I am a stallion. I will be free."
"Yes, you should be free. If you go, will you take me with you?
I want to learn so much from you. I want you! I am your mare. I
want
to know your story, your history."
Rihumme nodded. It was time to put in effect a design he'd had in
the most secret chambers of his mind since he first felt the boy's
lust.
"I will tell you these things," he said. "But I cannot do it here."
"Why not?" Salanu asked.
"This stall is not a place that I will live out my life.
Stallions do not live in prison."
Salanu nodded slowly. "You are correct. This cannot be your
place."
"Let me free."
"Whatever you wish, my lord." Enslaved to the pleasure-instrument
now sheathed in the leather scabbard between the stallion's legs,
there
could be no other answer for Salanu. "But ... take me with you."
The boy's begging satisfied the stallion. For the stallion there
was no other answer than this: "Yes. As you wish," for the stallion
himself was a slave to the tight ring of pleasure that now dripped
jism
so sexily. "Are you so willing to give up what you have here so
easily?"
"I have nothing here. I am a warrior. All I want is my sword and
my armor. And your cock. Father and brother have both been after my
ass. What will they think when they find out I lust for beasts? They
will send me away. So why not leave now? With my beloved."
"Where would you go?"
"You are my master. I will go with you."
"Salanu, I have many things to tell you. We will journey places -
- many places, far places. We will go to strange worlds. You are
correct: I will choose our destination. But I do not know the lay of
the land around here. I need you to guide me to a someone who may
direct me to where I must go."
"I could take you to the Valley of the Stags ... they are
knowledgeable about this area."
"That will do for now." Rihumme looked at the closed stable door.
"Free me."
Salanu moved with alacrity, leaping up out of the jism to undo the
door.
The horse strode proudly from his stable, along the length of the
hay-strewn hallway, his hoofs clattering on the boards. The other
stallions --Huryada, Tyiript, Aulyor --turned their heads as the
magnificent beast paraded out. The stallions were all erect and
dripping, snorting at Rihumme, nodding their heads in supplication.
Salanu, drying horse jism caking the backs of his thighs, they watched
with - lust. As if Salanu were a mare in heat prepared to received
them.
Huryada, a great black stallion, thick and muscular, sprouted a 19
inch cock from between his legs. His muscles were taut as a wire; his
big balls were drawn up tight against his belly. His mane, short and
bristly, stood on end with the force of his lust. His eyes were dark
and glossy; his soul was veiled. Huryada was an older horse and had
fucked many mares, but he had longed for the sweetness of this boy.
Now
that the aryanlapt Rihumme had won him over, Huryada wanted Rihumme
and
Salanu.
Tyiript, a grey racing horse, licked his thick lips with a sex-
thickened tongue. His erection was 20 inches long and very thick.
Precum was virtually streaming from his cockhead. The true stud of
the
three, he had three balls encased in his scrotum. He had sired many
colts in many mares. Salanu had ridden Tyiript many times in races.
Now Tyiript was looking to ride Salanu.
Aulyor was the most beautiful and youngest of the three. His
noble face, his bright eyes -- Salanu had always loved him. Salanu
had
spent many hours caressing his sleek body, feeling the fur, marvelling
at the bay color. The Elf boy had, a few times, slipped his hands
surreptitiously towards Aulyor's sheathed cock while the great
stallion
had looked at him with unfathomable eyes. But the Elf's fingers had
never made contact with the prize-- he had been too scared. Salanu,
imprisoned by his terror, had no choice but to retreat to the hayloft
and masturbate, revelling the images of beautiful Aulyor. A
wonderful,
friendly work horse, Aulyor's 21 inch penis was ready for action.
All the stallions worshipped Salanu and Rihumme with their cocks.
Salanu was not unaware of the lust that Rihumme triggered. Mare's
eyes, stallion's eyes, drawn to the sheathed weapon of pleasure that
the
aryanlapt carried between his muscled thighs. It was a warming thought
indeed to know that he, a mere Elven boy, a virgin inexperienced in
the
motions of fuck, could incite - and satisfy! - lust in such a
magnificent a horse as Rihumme. And he was aware of the lusting
stallions. It excited him. His cock again began to rear.
"Release my compatriots," said Rihumme.
"My lord?"
"I am taking your stallions with me. We will have need of them."
Salanu nodded and freed the stallions. They stroke out onto the
hay-strewn floor of the barn, their cocks at the ready.
"There's going to be a storm tonight," Rihumme said.
"You can smell a storm?"
"Yes. It smells like sex feels. Powerful. Masterful. Sweaty.
Energy of the rut, filling you, mastering you, stiffening your cock."
Rihumme paused. "It is my favorite smell."
Salanu laughed. "Yes. So I would expect."
The pink dot reappeared in the leather sheath between Rihumme's
legs. The long cock began to snake out again. Rihumme's eyes rolled
upwards into his skull -- what horse could resist the pleasure of
getting hard? The mighty weapon emerged again, ready for battle,
dripping with precum, glistening with horse-lust.
It was time for Rihumme to mount again. This time he would not
take the boy. The aryanlapt was now far more interested in the
stallions. Rihumme's eyes surveyed the other stallions. He had a
choice of three. They knew what he wanted, what he expected.
Aulyor said (in equine neighing), "I want this boy. He has wanted
me for so long. Let me have the boy."
Rihumme nodded. "You may have him. Which of you others want me
the most?"
Tyiript said, mischievously, "Which of us has the longer cock?"
"That's unfair," said Huryada. "I've sired more colts."
"Which of you wants me the most?" Rihumme demanded.
"I suppose," said Tyiript, "we both want you equally. We're both
virgins in our butts."
"Is that true?" Rihumme asked Huryada.
"Yes. And I want you in my butt badly. Then I want my cock in
the boy."
"You two line up side by side," said Rihumme. "Head to tail, tail
to head." Tyiript and Huryada did so, in sixty-nine position,
touching
each other, their flanks quivering. They held their heads upright,
proudly. Their cocks were twitching and dripping with anticipation.
"I
will fuck you both." Then he called to the boy in Elven-fashion.
"Salanu! Aulyor wants you! Do you want him?"
The boy had been watching the proceedings closely, fascinated. He
had noted Aulyor standing off from the rest, looking at him with lust.
"Yes, my lord."
"Then spread for him, like you did for me."
"Yes, my lord." Salanu bent over, pointing his ass at Aulyor.
The young stallion whinnied at the sight of the Elf-boy's two half
moons
spread open, butthole leaking Rihumme's thick, creamy jism. Salanu
turned, to look coyly at the stallion. The Elven boy's guts were
churning with the anticipation of having another horse in him. His
asshole pouted, spitting sperm. The excitement in him was like a
living
thing, churning and twisting his stomach.
Aulyor came to Salanu. He bent down, shoving his nose between the
Elf's cheeks. The smell of Rihumme's jism almost made the stallion
come. Saliva began to drip from his lips. The grey horse tongue
probed
out like an eel emerging from a cave in a reef. With a great sweeping
motion Aulyor licked a mouthful of jism from between the Elf-boy's
crack. Salanu shuddered with pleasure. "Oh, take me, take me," he
moaned. "I love horses ..."
His answering was a thick neighing. Aulyor licked the jism off
the boy, cleaning the boy's butt in preparation for mounting. The
tongue swirled around and around, never quite touching the tight
pouting
ring of Salanu's asshole, scooping up the jism in smooth motions.
The
horse was loving the taste of his new master. Aulyor loved both
Rihumme
and Salanu, and he wanted them both -- badly. But he wanted the
Elf-boy
more. This ass-licking was given him a taste of the boy, and of the
aryanlapt.
Aulyor licked the horse-cum off of Salanu's thighs. The boy was
whimpering and moaning, his eyes slits as Aulyor's tongue touched him
in
forbidden places. How long had he dreamed for this! He had lusted
for
Aulyor ever since the stallion was a colt, loving his beauty, his
thick
sheathed weapon. He felt the horse's cold nose between his cheeks.
Then something hot and wet touched his anus. It wiggled and wiggled.
Salanu moaned, bent over even further, his belly and back muscles
tightening to support him. He spread his cheeks so far that his crack
nearly vanished. He shoved backwards. Aulyor's tongue slipped into
his
anus, a long hot eel of pleasure. Rihumme's cooling semen drooled out
onto the tongue, ran back into the horse's throat.
"Oh, gods, eat me!" Salanu cried. He shoved his young, muscular
butt back against Aulyor's face. The long tongue was deep inside him,
reaching up almost to his navel, it seemed. It swirled around,
picking
up cum and pulling it back into Aulyor's hungry mouth. He twisted his
butt, impaled on Aulyor's long tongue, shoving himself back into it.
The horse tasted the boy's musky interior. He had for so long
wanted to be up inside Salanu. It was warm and loving and hot and
tight
in there -- even after having been unbelievably stretched by the
aryanlapt. Spit dribbled off the horse's lips, onto the floor of the
barn. His cock was hard as a stone, angrily thrusting out into the
air.
Aulyor's urge to mount was twenty-one inches of blood-gorged cock, and
irresistible.
Aulyor pulled his tongue out of the boy with a long, slurping
sound. He sucked on his tongue in his mouth, tasting the boy's ass-
mucus. Heavenly. Aulyor backed away from the bent-over Elf, then
mounted him, rubbing his muscular belly on the Elf's back. He probed
his cock between Salanu's cheeks, precum dripping. The hard pink
flesh
rubbed against the chaffed lips of Salanu's butthole. The horse
neighed. Sperm was churning in his balls, begging for release. He
wanted to fuck for the rest of the night. These stupid Elves,
Salanu's
father and brother and the farm-hands, never realized that their
animals
wanted to fuck just as much as them. Aulyor had been kept in his
stable
too long, away from a mares' cunts, watching Elves fuck.
Rihumme circled round the two stallions he would fuck, displaying
to them his penis. He watched Huryada swish his tail to one side,
revealing his buttocks, his big round asshole. Huryada's big, thick
prick was dripping precum, so brightly pink was the flesh that it
looked
artificial. A rich equine odor rose from the stallion. Tyiript was
following Rihumme with his eyes, watching the master-stallion survey
him. Rihumme thought that impertinent, but many mares were
impertinent
before the ritual was completed.
"Do you wish to mate, stallion Huryada?" asked Rihumme, neighing,
using the horse-language.
"Yes, stallion Rihumme. I hunger for you."
"Do you wish to mate, stallion Tyiript?"
"Yes, stallion Rihumme. I hunger for you."
"You are my mates." Unlike Aulyor who was too consumed with lust
for Salanu, Rihumme wanted the ritual. Sex was made for ritual.
"Reveal to me what you offer, Tyiript." The stallion went to stand
behind Tyiript's quivering butt. Tyiript moved his tail to one side,
and showed his butthole to Rihumme. He pouted it, to hint at the lust
he felt. The erotic contractions of the tight ring of muscles sent a
squirt of Rihumme's precum to the floor.
Rihumme bent forward, kissed Tyiript's ass. The horse-musk
stormed in his nostrils. Rihumme pressed his lips against Tyiript's
butt, the ran his tongue up and down the horse's crack from his big
trio
of balls to the base of his tail. Tyiript shivered. His tail swished
anxiously from side to side, a virgin uneasy on the night of his
deflowering.
Done with him, Rihumme strode around to the other end of the
pairing. Sweat glistened on Huryada's asshole. Gently, lovingly (for
Rihumme loved strength and power, which was what Huryada was), he bent
down and kissed it. The sweat was heady in his nostrils, the odor of
ball-musk and precum as powerful as the feeling the oncoming storm
gave
to Rihumme. Again, the tongue caressed the base of the passive
stallion's balls and tongued the underside of his tail. The black
stallion rubbed his ass against the aryanlapt's face.
"Stallion Huryada. Are you in rut?"
"I am in rut."
"Stallion Tyiript. Are you in rut?"
"I am in rut."
"Stallion Huryada. Will you be my mare?"
"I will be your mare."
"Stallion Tyiript. Will you be my mare?"
"I will be your mare."
"Stallion Huryada. Say you must mate with me."
"I must mate with you!"
"Stallion Tyiript. Say you must mate with me."
"We must mate with you!"
"Will you both accept me in you?"
"Yes," the stallions said, their eyes hazed with the pleasure they
felt.
"I will take you in your asses. Has any other stallion -- or any
other being -- taken you there?"
"No. I am a virgin, awaiting your cock," said Huryada.
"No. I am your slave, your hole to fuck. I await your cock,"
said Tyiript, always the rebel, never quite following the ritual.
Rihumme decided Huryada would be the first to get his cock. One,
because of the taste of his ass-sweat on Rihumme's lips. Two --
Tyiript
needed some discipline.
With a smooth movement Rihumme leapt up onto Huryada's strong
back. He felt the other stallion stiffen, to support the sudden
addition of Rihumme's weight. Huryada's tail brushed the inner side
of
Rihumme's thighs. Rihumme felt the tight, clasping ring of Huryada's
anus against his cockhead. He pushed. He felt the stallion shift
uneasily underneath him. Rihumme bent down, nipped at Huryada's neck.
"Do not move." The anus did not give way. Huryada was less of a
whore
than the boy -- but of course, he was a stallion. Rihumme pushed
again.
The lips were a little more slippery this time from the white
stallion's
leaking cock. He felt the tight ring part. Then his cock lunged up
the
horse's ass.
Huryada reared his head back, neighing. His asshole burned. He
could feel the aryanlapt's huge cock thrusting upward, splitting the
dank moist walls of his asshole apart. The pain was sublime. He felt
open, invaded, ruled. The hard cock jabbing in his guts was
possessing
him, ruling him. It slid in just a few inches, then paused, the apple
sized-prickhead holding the stallion's butthole open. "Oh, by Aradd,
how I want this!" His balls were drawn up tight against his belly.
"Does it hurt?" asked Rihumme, voice thick with lust.
"Yes!"
The aryanlapt forced his cock five inches deeper into Huryada.
The strong, black horse squirmed beneath Rihumme's entrance. His cock
throbbed against his belly. Rihumme leaned down and bit deeply into
Huryada's neck. The black stallion whinnied and reared back, carrying
the aryanlapt upward into the air with him. Rihumme used the
opportunity to drive forward with his powerful hips. He stabbed into
the stallion up to his balls. Huryada screamed and reared again,
forward feet flailing. He was stuffed, his rectum bulging around
Rihumme's vast cock. His anus gaped like the mouth of a cave.
Rihumme's big, dangling horse balls lay draped against Huryada's.
Stallion was joined to stallion.
Huryada bounced a few more times, the great pain subsiding,
Rihumme riding on top of him, enjoying how the other stallion's
asshole
quivered and fluttered as he reared. The glorious shaft between his
legs was lodged deep in Huryada. Tyiript watched them both nervously,
his ears pressed back against his skull.
"Are you ready to get fucked?" Rihumme breathed in Huryada's ear.
"Yes."
"How does it feel?"
"I want to stay on your hard cock forever, master."
Rihumme slid the shaft out of Huryada, then drilled it back in.
He began to pump at the other stallion's rear. The black stallion
lifted his head towards the roof of the barn, looking upward as if in
supplication to a god, while Rihumme drilled his ass. The mucus-lined
walls of his rectum wrapped tight round Rihumme's invading cock.
Huryada's long pink tongue slid out, caressed his lips. Rihumme
churned
in the black stallion's ass, shoving his long pole deep, yanking it
out
until only the fat prickhead parted Huryada's no-longer-virgin walls.
Rihumme turned and looked at Tyiript. The other horse seemed
subdued now, watching how the great aryanlapt fucked with such power.
But the racing stallion's cock was hard as ever, and dripping, his
eyes
glued to the erotic juncture where horse's cock met horse's ass. "You
will be next," said Rihumme. "You will submit to my cock."
"I will submit," said Tyiript, but his voice was unsure. He
flicked his tail. Then he turned to watch the horse fuck the Elf.
Aulyor churned his cock his Salanu's ass. The boy was hot for
him. They thrust themselves roughly together, the slut boy eating the
horse's phallus with his hungry asshole. Both their eyes were tightly
clenched as they vanished into the fuck. The horse could feel the
sweet
boy yielding beneath his pounding belly. The fat cockhead churned
deep
inside Salanu's large intestine, the huge shaft massaging the Elf's
walnut-sized prostate. The muscles in Salanu's legs stood up in sharp
relief as he braced himself against the horse's driving thrusts. He
reached back, pulled apart the melon-halves of his ass to give the
horse
deeper penetration. Blasts of air farted from his ass as Aulyor
fucked.
The horse drove faster and faster into the Elf's well-fucked butt.
The moment was coming. The thick equine cock churned deep in the
boy's
ass. Salanu could feel the horse picking up power as it slammed its
rod
of lust into him. The long tube held him open while Aulyor -- beloved
Aulyor, horse of his youth, his fantasies -- fucked him. It was
incredible, this feeling of being used by an animal, of being
possessed
by the raging energy of its cock. Grunts escaped from him, as the
horse
churned faster and faster in his innards. He could feel the blazing
fire of coming orgasm. His eyes were hazing over.
Aulyor came. The horse reared back his head, mane flying, and
fired his load deep inside the boy he so lusted after. Hot cream
flooded the boy's innards. The stallion's bloated balls filled the
boy
to overflowing -- once again hot stallion juice erupted from Salanu's
tight anal ring, to splatter on the hay-strewn floor, on the backs of
his taut thighs. The horse pumped and pumped, shooting all his worth
deep into the slut boy. Horse semen ran down Salanu's crack and
dripped
from his balls.
Aulyor eased his cock from Salanu's asshole, still dripping ropes
of fragrant horse-juice. The boy hadn't come. His cock drilled the
air, rigid as a log, his balls full and tight and drawn up close to
his
belly.
Huryada craned his head back, laying his neck against Rihumme's,
who hovered close to him. The two stallions ground their hind parts
together, loving each other with the power of their fuck. Rihumme's
power was immense -- the stallion could not endure such pleasure for
too
long. Huryada gave a great cry, and fired his immense load out onto
the
floor of the stable. The thick horsecock fired shot after shot of
grey,
potent horse-jism, sliming the stallion's belly with the evidence of
his
love of the fuck. He was slick with sweat.
Rihumme dismounted, yanking his cock out of Huryada's asshole
harshly. He looked at the black stallion's hole -- it was slimy with
ass-mucus and precum, and little blasts of air farted from it. The
rich
smell of Huryada's jism filled his nostrils.
Rihumme looked over at Tyiript, who was staring at the immense
pool of jism beneath Huryada, and at the enraptured look on the
stallion's face. Rihumme twitched his twenty-five inch phallus.
"Your
turn, now, stallion Tyiript." The aryanlapt could tell by the grey
stallion's smell that he was afraid -- of the size of Rihumme's cock,
of what getting fucked would mean to a creature that considered
himself
to be the master of masculinity. But Rihumme knew that, once
Tyiript's
anal virginity was thrust away, there would be no fear of either cock
size or femininity. Maleness was the lust for cock. Even when
screwing
mares, Rihumme had always glorified in the feeling of his proud, hard
cock, not in the feeling of their slick cunts. Tyiript would
understand
that, once the aryanlapt's cock was in him. Fucking was a male
activity.
He went around behind the stallion, who swished the fine hairs of
his tail to cover his asshole. "Reveal yourself to me, stallion
Tyiript," Rihumme commanded, his voice a growl of lust. He bent close
to the horse's butt and breathed on the crack.
"I -- I cannot, my lord." The voice was weak and afraid. He
shivered, feeling Rihumme's hot breath on his asshole.
Rihumme bit Tyiript's butt hard, gathering up the flesh with his
teeth and twisting. The stallion cried out, tried to yank away. But
Rihumme was already moving. He leaped up onto the stallion back,
holding him down. Tyiript bucked upward, trying to shake the
stallion,
to escape the phallus that sought his hole like a sword did its
sheath.
Rihumme bit him again, on the neck, to show Tyiript that he had no
choice but to obey the aryanlapt. Then he rammed his cock forward.
The
dry gates to the stallion's asshole resisted him for a second -- but a
second only. Under the hammer blow they parted. Rihumme' slick cock
barreled in. The stallion screamed as the long log lunged in. The
massive lance sank in to the balls in one great attack. Rihumme
clamped
himself to the stallion's bucking back, biting at Tyiript to subdue
him.
He could feel the other stallion's tail beat a frantic pattern against
his inner thighs as he tried to escape. He writhed in pain.
"I am fucking you, stallion Tyiript," Rihumme growled. "You will
receive my seed."
The grey racing stallion only moaned, feeling his battered,
tattered asshole being pierced by the mighty lance that sprouted from
between the aryanlapt's thighs. His tail twitched frantically. He
hung
his head, letting the stallion fill him, use him, rule him. Fire
blazed
in his body, from his balls to his tail. He hurt -- this was not the
pleasure of screwing a mare -- but his cock would not go down, and he
could feel his three nuts shifting excitedly around in his thick,
leathern sack.
Left alone, desperately wanting an animal to cause his orgasm,
Salanu mindlessly humped Aulyor's flanks, rubbing his hard, hot cock
against the bristly fur of the beautiful stallion. As he humped sperm
bubbled out of his well-fucked butthole and ran sexily down his
thighs.
Aulyor stood in the listless abandon of one who has at last achieved a
long-dreamed-of fantasy, head bowed, his closed as he savored the
memory, the great twenty-one inch prick hanging soft and pink between
his legs. Salanu reached out and fondled the shaft. It was hot in
his
hands, and tough and strong yet yielding as it slowly softened.
A tongue touched his butthole, lapping at the leaking sperm.
Salanu slowed his humps, turned. Huryada, recovered from his orgasm,
was eating his butt. The black stallion's tongue probed gently
between
the globes of his ass, smearing Aulyor's jism on his brown skin. Then
the tongue slipped inside his puffed-out anal ring, went into him.
Like
an octopus' tentacle it probed into him. Salanu backed up onto it,
still holding Aulyor's cock in his hand. The tongue found his
prostate
and began to massage him. Salanu felt something go through Aulyor's
penis, something hot, then felt a liquid splattering onto his lower
legs. The stallion was pissing like the stud he was. Salanu cupped
his
hands into the stream, lifted it to his nose, smelling the aroma.
Between two horses, smelling one's piss, the other eating his
butt, humping a horse's leg frantically like a dog in heat, he came.
The hot cream streamed onto Aulyor's flanks. His moans filled the
inside of the barn.
Rihumme bucked hard into the stallion beneath him. He loved
fucking Elves, and he loved especially fucking Salanu, but there was
nothing like fucking so massive a creature as a stallion. Especially
a
virgin stallion like Tyiript, too nervous to enjoy it but very very
tight around the massive cock. He arched his back as he drove
powerfully into the triple-balled horse, fucking his ass hard. He
bent
down again and bit deeply into Tyiript's neck. The horse writhed,
whimpered. Tyiript's tail hung limply between his thighs, his
butthole
spread by Rihumme's pounding cock, his own cock rigid and hard between
his legs. His legs were parted, and he no longer resisted. The cock
filled his rectum, stretched the mucus-lined walls wide. He could
feel
the fat prickhead probing between his pelvis, deep inside his body, a
powerful, masterful invader. The pain from Rihumme's gnawing teeth
was
-- exquisite. He could not think, he was in shock from the
penetration,
from the experience.
He stood there, rear legs spread and extended slighly behind him,
his tail tucked meekly to one side, forelegs spread and stiff, holding
the weight of Rihumme on his broad back. His three balls were drawn
up
tight in their sheath. His cock was rigid, hard, twenty inches of
horse sexual flesh that had pleasured so many mares -- now hard only
because a great aryanlapt, a stallion of the god of lust, fucked his
ass
and made him into a passive recipient of cock.
But, as Rihumme fucked, pleasure began to flood him. The harsh,
burning scraping of Rihumme's cock on his anal ring changed to a warm
feeling. The stretching that his intestines did to accomodate the
stallion's massive cock began to feel as if Tyiript's innards were
being
remade into something much finer. The energy which Rihumme pumped
into
his clasping butt was rejuvenating. A fire of pleasure ignited in
Tyiript's balls, streamed and danced along his cock. Precum began to
drool from it. He began to pump his butt backwards, into the raging
hard thrusts.
Rihumme felt the subtle shift in the other horse's attitude. To
himself he smiled. They always came around. He slotted into the
tight
ass harder and harder, fucking like the great, powerful animal he was,
ruling the warm creature he held imprisoned between his thighs, on his
long cock. The orgasm was so close now. He felt Tyiript buck back
into
him, loving the thrusts, just like the Elf boy -- though the Elf boy
had
never resisted the fact that he was to be fucked.
Tyiript gave a great cry and began to shoot. His balls contracted
and a thick white rope shot from the head of his hard cock, landing
ten
feet in front of him. He fired and fired again, asshole contracting
around Rihumme's thrusting cock, long dollops of horse juice erupting
outwards. Sperm coated his belly, drenched his hay. Erotically he
pumped his hips, as he if were fucking a phantom asshole, shooting and
shooting.
The great aryanlapt came, a giant explosion of lust deep inside
Tyiript. Great floods of semen pumped into the grey horse, filling
his
rectum, leaking from around the mighty engorged shaft of Rihumme's
cock.
The others stood silently, watching the two stallions come.
When it was over, Rihumme dismounted and turned to look at his
band. Tyiript stood listlessly, head hanging, cock and asshole
leaking
cum still. Rihumme smelled the piss on Salanu, and began to void his
own bladder through the arm thick length of his softening cock. The
great pool of golden liquid spread out on the cum-drenched hay of the
floor.
"Stallions, my Elf-boy, it is time for me to explain who I am and
why I am here. I am an emissary from Aradd."
Salanu nodded. Having been fucked by the horse, and knowing
intimately the skill the stallion had shown in the art of fuck, he had
already guessed that the horse was somehow related to Aradd the God of
Male Love.
Then they rode off, together, horses and boy, through the silent
courtyard. No horse carried Salanu -- he walked beside them, one of
them. The dark bulk of the lodge and barn faded behind as they
crossed
over the noisy brook that bisected the farmstead itself. They turned
eastward, off the road, cutting over fields new-sown, heading towards
the dark hills rising around them. Salanu felt as if he were entering
a
vast dark cave with some loved and trusted teacher - the thrill of
entering the unknown and forbidden, the terror of the black and
unforeseen future, the warmth imbued by the presence of Rihumme.
Cum rolled still out of Tyiript's, Salanu's, and Huryada's butts.
Their bow-legged strides revealed to onlookers how hard they had been
fucked. Salanu walked with an erect cock, though the stallions
appared
to be satiated. He followed behind Tyiript, watching the white jism
slurp out of the stallion's puckered asshole. The pungent smell of
it
was like a drug.
Once, when they paused, Salanu marched forward and stuck his
tongue in the stallion's asshole. The taste of cum and shit was
heavenly. The warm feeling of the horse's big muscular butt on either
side of Salanu's face caused a few droplets of precum to fly from his
hard cock. Tyiript looked upward, shocked a bit, as Salanu drank the
jism out of his asshole. But then he relaxed, for the feeling of the
boy's tongue on his chafed asshole was sooting.
When Salanu drunk his fill, they went on.
Onwards they went, till massive oaks enfolded them in cool
shadows. Salanu's skin pimpled, his nipples stiffened to points, his
balls drew up tight against his body. The land rose and fell in gentle
sweeps as the horses and boy mounted the hill's skirts. From time to
time Salanu spoke words of guidance to Rihumme, altering the horse's
direction as they passed some recognized landmark.
After some time they crested a high ridge, and Rihumme, his heart
realizing what Salanu might be contemplating and what he might be
giving
up, stopped and turned, so that they boy could see where he had left.
Down below in the valley where the farm lay the buildings where he had
grown up had faded to indistinguishable blurs, like a distant haze, a
troubling memory on the edge of consciousness. Silver moonlight
shivered
on the stream below. Salanu took a breath, released it all till his
lungs held only void.
Rihumme said, "You know that I will take you back, if you desire."
The other horses were silent, as the two spoke.
"Yes, I do," Salanu said. He turned away, to look towards the wall
of trees for the path. He pointed towards the slender boles of two
tall
beeches looming like gateposts ahead. "There," he said. "Through
there."
* * *
Salanu had found the glade two years ago, when his pubes were
still naked (though his cock was swelling with incipient maleness).
He'd
stumbled upon it in the day time, erupting out of a circle of elms,
propelled by boyish enthusiasm for exploration, coming out onto its
grassy floor with a look of astonished wonder on his face. The air had
been drowsily warm, sweat had coursed from his armpits, butterflies
had
swarmed around. The laughter of the brook rushing down the hill slopes
towards the wide lands outside the ring out hills had blended with the
wind's whisper in the trees. It was as if he'd stumbled into a new
world, had been one of the Elves of the Awakening who had seen the
world
when it was fresh and new. It was as if the Veil had thinned and he'd
gone into the World of the Gods.
He'd never shown this place to anyone else, and he'd never seen
anyone else's footprints disturbing the clay along the sides of the
brook. It was his place, his fortress behind the circle of elms. He'd
not shown it to Konya, who he knew would love it. He had not shown it
to
Father, or the farm help. It was his private, solitary space. The only
avenue of vision out looked up into the sky. He'd learned to jack off
here. He'd blown his first wad here. He'd done it so many times here
that the meadowgrass smelled of his young jism.
Rihumme strode proudly out of the trees into the glade, his horse-
potent balls swinging against his muscled thighs in time with his
strides. Salanu was at his side, the other following behind. All of
them were covered with drying semen. The air was quiet, only the brook
that bisected the glade making only the softest of sounds. The
tree-clad
slopes of the hills rose all around. The other worldliness was
complete
- Rihumme, who had dwelt in the World of the Gods, recognized its
nearness. Aradd would be watching.
The stallion stopped. The others in the line following him paused
also, obeying their silent master. Their eyes swept round the glade.
Rihumme's nostrils flared as he breathed the daisy-scented air. He
turned his head back towards Salanu. "This is a beautiful place. Is
this
yours?"
I "It is. I found it." He looked back at Rihumme, who was
standing there expectantly. "Do you like it?"
"Yes. What a beautiful smell," and he was not talking about
Salanu. Rihumme bent a ripped up a tuft of grass. He chewed on it for
a
long while. "So peaceful." He turned to the other horses and
whinnied.
They began to eat.
At the sight of the horse eating Salanu felt his own hunger,
pushed aside until now by the magic of walking free out into the
world
with his mate. He walked over to the brook, knelt and drank. The water
pooled coldly in his stomach. Then he got up and lay down on his back,
in the grass, looking up at the distant stars.
The stallion, chomping and tearing at the grass, worked his way
over to where Salanu lay.
"I never want to go back," Salanu said. "I never want to see you
in a stall, ever again. Here is where you belong - outside, in the
wilderness. Free. I want to be with you, your mare, your colt, if you
will let me."
"I will not ask you to go against your kin to free me," said
Rihumme. "I will not ask you to abandon them, either." The horse
caught
him again with that seem piercing gaze that had enticed him into the
glorious fuck. "But I will not make you go back."
"I do not wish to go."
"What do you wish?" asked the stallion.
"I want to go into the world outside," said Salanu. "I want to
travel about it. I want to see Kyulon-Lirren. I want to see Olarin
march
past me in parade. I want to see a ship. I'd love to see a ship. Do
you
know they keep a squadron in the very harbor of the Dark Lord?"
Slowly, Rihumme said, "Yes. I've heard that tale."
"I want to be a warrior. In the service of no one king - I want to
sell my services to the king at war. I know about Bakal Remainyo, and
I
want to avenge it. I've got a bow and arrow hidden here, I can use
them.
But I want a sword." He paused. "I don't want to be on a farm, all my
life. Behind the walls of warriors - I want to be with them, to be
free."
"Yes. You should be free."
"Have you ever been the steed for a knight? Or ridden with the
cavalry?"
"I have. I have seen feats of arms. There are many stories I could
tell you. I can read in your heart the truthfulness of your feelings,
of
your longings. I honor them."
"What do you wish? Out of all the world, what do you wish?"
Rihumme thought. Here was an Elf, a beautiful boy Elf, asking him
an Elvish thing. What did he, an aryanlapt, a creation of Aradd the
God
of Love, really want? He wanted to mate. He wanted to fuck. Already
life was stirring back into his balls - sperm was beginning again to
swim around there, anxious to get out. He was building up again to
another fuck. He didn't really care about battles and war and glory,
except that it would bring him more males, perhaps ones he could
seduce
into a harem. He wanted mares, whether male or female he didn't care.
He
wanted a colt, his own colt, so he could teach him to use his cock as
a
master of cock should.
But what to say to Salanu? The mastership of the rut was
temporarily gone; they were two male companions. One male could only
rule another in the fuck, never outside it - that was part of the
nature
of masculinity.
"I wish," said the horse, "to see all the world. To travel through
it, to experience it. To travel through all the Elf-kingdoms, to the
realms of Men far away even, even to the gate of the Land of the
Gods."
Salanu smiled slightly. "I would be your companion through it
all."
"I would have you with me, through it all."
There fell a long silence between them. The stars were wheeling
overhead, the night deepening, the shade infusing the space between
the
trees drawing tighter. They seemed listless, tired, worn out, though
their minds were feverish with thought, and new energy began to amass
in
their balls.
"You told me you would tell me why you desire animals," Rihumme
said. "That is why we came here."
"I will," said Salanu. "But will you do one more thing for me?"
"Anything."
"Tell me first why you fuck Elves."
** Rihumme's Story
The city, on the coast of the warm Inner Seas, had an air of
abandon, of wildness. Kyulon-Lirren had been raised not long after the
Day of the Dark, by Elves fleeing the sack of Remainyo, but its birth
in
darkest tragedy seemed long forgotten. Great trees grew along its
marbled boulevards, raising their mighty limbs in wild delight. In the
evenings the tavern lights showed late. There was much laughter in the
air; the smell of the sea was like an narcotic. The sun rained down
its
golden wine.
In that city Konyamiand was King. He was a son of Anyongi, who had
been a Lord of Remainyo until the Day of the Dark, and who now ruled a
kingdom in the distant mountains. Konyamiand had earned his fame as a
mariner long ago, when much of the world was unmapped and virgin, and
when the Dark Lord Uklo had remained hidden his tower, building the
army
and navy that one day would destroy the idyllic and false peace of the
Elves. He sailed to the End of the World in the West and there
broached
the Veil between Worlds and entered the realm of the Gods. He'd
discovered the Ice in the North. He was loved by many, and loved many
in
return, and it was often said of him in those happy days that he would
never marry. In the end he had, to Sulonyien.
Dark haired and dark eyed, tall and muscled, after the horrible
Bakal Remainyo his mood darkened, and he became grim and silent, even
stern. Sulonyien, who's mood had always been silent, simpering, and
fearful (but who was sexually extraordinarily active, for a Female
Elf),
became argumentative and nagging with her husband after that battle,
while both had worked to oversee the raising of this city. Tiring of
her, Konyamiand had sent her away,a clear divorce in the eyes of his
people, who beloved and belusted him. But of her came a son,
Konyaselend. Konyamiand's mood lightened with the long peace that came
after the battle, and Sulonyien's did as well, but they were ever
estranged from each other.
Konyaselend became a mariner like his father, and inherited many
of his talents. Konyamiand was called by many the greatest mariner who
ever lived, his son the second greatest. Although Konyamiand could
have
grown to resent his perpetual second-place finish to his father, he
was
of far too noble a temper to succumb to such baseness. He commanded
half
the fleets of the city, governed the city-fortress of Eneth Gaukye
which
guarded the narrow entrance to the Inner Seas, and was Captain of the
Cavalry. It was because of his fascination with the horse that Rihumme
was brought to Kyulon-Lirren.
Rihumme and his guide Erinya had crossed the Veil from Aradd's
Realm into the World, coming into it not too far from Kyulon-Lirren
itself. Rihumme had followed his guide into the city itself. He
marvelled at all the sights: the white marble buildings, the
garlanded
boulevards, the tall ships gleaming in the semicircle of the harbor.
And
the Elves: there were so many, the World of the Gods was never so
crowded. Everywhere, always underfoot, so that Rihumme had to dance
away
from them as they jostled him. Laughing and singing, dancing even.
He had seen Elves only rarely before, so they were new to him. But
he quickly came to marvel at the shape of their bodies - The Elven
neck
was divine in its pure shape, in the symmetry of its form. Their manes
-
hair - so different from his own, but beautiful still, shining with an
inner light, soft and warm. He admired the muscles in the males, their
firmness and power. He admired the soft curves of the females, their
promised comfort.
He wanted to see genitals, but for some reason Elves covered them.
* * *
Erinya took him to Konyaselend's mansion, near the sandy shore. It
was impressive, massive: on either side of the broad main house
spread
two wings, encircling a courtyard. Marble columns supported the roof.
A
tall signal tower rose from the roof, and on the tower's apex were two
tiny dots - lookouts eyeing the long estuary of the river that led to
the sea.
It was all imposing, tumultuous, and confusing, but Rihumme felt
no fear as Erinya led him round the back of the mansion and into an
orangery. Beside a silver gong they stopped.
Erinya turned. "I am about to deliver you to your new master," he
said.
The word master made Rihumme's heart rebel, and Erinya knew it,
but the horse said nothing.
"They - the Elves - have heard of Aradd's blessing, the aryanlapt,
but they do not understand you, nor Aradd, nor would they understand
your mission if you revealed it to them. You therefor must proceed
carefully. I will explain to Konyaselend your breeding potential when
he
comes. He will no doubt accept you for that alone - after a
demonstration. He will speak to you - probably hesitantly, for it will
seem strange to him to be speaking to an animal. Nonetheless you
should
answer his questions, as best you know how.
"Then Rihumme I will leave you here, and you will dwell until you
die in the World with the Elves. Aradd Himself has charged you with
your
mission. Your heart is wild, rebellious - this is why I love you so -
and so I foresee that you will attempt to shirk it. You enjoy your
penis
too much. I warn you: do not. Aradd has purposes and designs you
cannot
see. You are a tool in the crafting of a subtle work. Or so he intends
you. You are free, for Aradd has very little to do with slavery. But
it
will be best if you serve Aradd as he bid you."
Before Rihumme could reply Erinya struck the silver gong with a
mallet. The ethereal sounds resonated through the orangery.
In a few moments two young Elves appeared - one dark haired, dark
skinned, the other blond yet equally dark-skinned. They were narrow
leather kirts round their waists, fastened with a wide belt.
Scabbarded
swords dangled at their sides. Their chests were well-defined,
developed, their naked hairless thighs heavily muscled. Rihumme could
smell their ball-sweat - they were very male, proudly male. He felt
his
cock swell just slightly in sympathy to their masculinity.
The dark-haired one spoke in a deep, throaty voice. "Who seeks
Konyaselend Prince, son of Konyamiand King?"
"I am Erinya, vassal of Aradd, an Ambassador from beyond the Veil
between Worlds, clothed in a form perceivable to you. I bring
Konyaselend Prince an aryanlapt who is called Rihumme, as gift from
Aradd."
The guard bowed. "I will bring your plea to Konyaselend Prince."
He turned, leaving the golden-haired guard there, who stood was legs
slightly spread, his hand resting easily on his sword-hilt, examining
Erinya and Rihumme with a critical eye.
In but a few moments Konyaselend arrived with the dark-haired
guard. A tall Elf, ravishingly handsome as was his father, hair dark
as
Rihumme's mane. His pink lips curled into the slightest of smiles when
he saw the horse. His blue eyes, deep as the sea, unclouded by worry,
took in the horse's luminance. His stomach was flat, graven with
muscles; his chest was broad and his pectorals were heavy. He wore a
soft leather loin cloth, hanging from a narrow low-slung belt. Curls
of
public hair looked above it. The front flap of the loincloth hung just
below his heavy balls. His musk dominated the air, overriding the odor
of his two guards. It wrestled even with Rihumme's. An electricity
crackled in the horse's nose. A pressure swelled up behind his penis,
as
if he had to piss, as the ball-musk of Konyaselend was sucked into his
lungs.
"Erinya," said Konyaselend. "It has been years."
Erinya bowed, so odd a gesture for him - an Emissary of the
Divine. "Greetings, Blessed of Aradd. Indeed it has. I see that you
and
all your kin have prospered in those years."
"So long as Uklo can be held behind siege lines, all will prosper.
So." He paused, then looked Rihumme over very carefully, noting the
horse's musculature, his bearing. "This is an aryanlapt."
"I am," said Rihumme.
One eyebrow raised on the handsome face. The Elven Prince turned
towards Rihumme. "So you do speak, as the tales have said."
"I do not know exactly what these tales are, nor do I know what
they have said, but yes, I do speak, as do my kin."
"Do you know how strange that is to me? Do you know that Elves
are used to hearing only beings shaped as themselves speak? Men,
Dwarves, even Gods who wear our shape. But you - you are a horse, a
magnificent one certainly, beautiful and strong, but a horse
nonetheless. You don't have my shape."
"And you do not wear mine," said Rihumme. "But it is not strange
for me to hear you to speak."
Erinya spoke. "The aryanlapt Rihumme is Aradd's gift to your
breeding stock."
Tall Konyaselend shifted his weight onto his right leg, so that
the muscles of his thigh stood out in sharp relief under his golden
skin. The flap of his loincloth shifted over slightly, revealing more
pubic hair. "Has he - have you ever been bred before, Rihumme?"
"I have," Rihumme said proudly. The pressure behind his penis was
growing. The rut was rising into him. He did not know if it were
merely
the presence of Konyaselend, or if he was prescient, but he knew that
he
would be fucking in a few minutes. Sperm was filling his balls.
"Have you sired?"
"I have many ... offspring."
Konyaselend turned to the dark-haired guard, who was standing in
the submissive's position, just behind and beside him. He whispered
something. The guard left. The chiseled cheeks of his ass bulged the
leather kirt he wore in a most enticing way. "Very well. I shall want
a
demonstration of your functionality." Konyaselend furtively glanced
between Rihumme's back legs. "Soon."
"As you wish." He penis leapt forward, towards erection, he could
feel it begin to slowly slide against the leathery walls of his
cocksheath. But he stopped it - controlled it, stilled the excitement
with all his power. He was a stallion, the master of fuck. He would
reveal his weaponry to this Elf, this icon of maleness, this male who
reeked of ball-musk and fucking and sweat, only in good time.
With a little smile, as if he were sharing in Rihumme's mastership
of rut, Konyaselend turned to Erinya. "So. How fares those who lie
beyond the Veil? It has been long since an Elf has crossed there."
"As well as ever." He smiled as well, reading Konyaselend's face
too well, knowing the mariner Elf intimately enough to precisely peg
his
interest. "Their minds are turned here, of course, to you and your
kin,
and your futile war against the Fallen One."
"Do I get a lecture on futility now?"
"No," said Erinya, but his smile was gone. "All of those have gone
for naught. The Gods do not understand why: they have told you all
the
powers that Uklo possesses. He was Chief of the Order of Gods, long
before this world was made, long before his Scarring. He drew the
design
for this world. He made the Sun, as he was the Prince of Fire. He is a
master of sorcery. Though he was weakened, in the Bakal Remainyo, this
peace you created, this siege you've laid to Romanel and Eneth Eanth -
they cannot endure in the end. You are fighting one of the most
powerful
beings there is. You have no hope."
Konyaselend was openly grinning, his face mocking Erinya's grim
tone - in loving fashion. The Elf loved Erinya as he would a friend.
His
eyes were bright under his shock of black hair, his teeth were bright
against his bronzed skin. "The lecture," he said, laughing.
Rihumme, listening in silence to the interchange, watched
Konyaselend's face intently.
Erinya's smile broke again. "Yes. But it's all because we love
you."
"Tell me, Erinya, what would you have us do? What is there to do
but continue as we are? My father and I maintain squadrons of ships
all
along the coasts of Romanel. There's a squadron in the very estuary of
Kyluel, commanded by a great man ..." his voice trailed off, as he
remembered some dreamy event. His burly sailor's hand reached down,
absently trailing over the firm mounds of his chest, to reach under
the
leather flap and scratch. "... Anyway. Olarin's and Amila's armies
ring
the fortress itself. All the subterranean entrances have long since
been
closed off. My father is even considering despatching an embassy to
the
Eastern Kingdoms - the Kingdoms of Men, to enlist their aid, to draw
the
siege tighter. The siege is tight.
"All forays made by the trolls since we encircled the tower have
been repulsed. Uklo is closed in, he cannot get out. He might have
been
a divine being once, but he now acts through trolls, swords, and
siege-
engines, not magic, song, and divine power. Uklo is closed in; he
cannot
get out."
"He has escaped from deeper prisons before, from warders more
powerful than any he has now. The Gods have not your confidence. We
have
dealt with Uklo for far longer than the Elves have been in existence.
We
know Uklo, and his ways. You cannot win."
The smile never left his face. "What would you have us do? Where
can we flee? How can one hide from the Maker of the Sun?"
"If the Elves agree to abandon the World, the Gods will accept you
beyond the Veil."
"You will leave Men here as Uklo's slaves? You will do the same
to Dwarves? Aryanlapts? You will surrender the labor of the years,
the
World, with no fight at all?"
"We will - withdraw - to a position where we can gather our
strength. Our final assault from him will complete his fall. We will
restore the World to its youth - and to the inhabitants we made it
for:
Elves, Men, Dwarves, and even aryanlapts."
Konyaselend laughed at that, his gaze fixed on Rihumme. His hand
again drifted down, coming to rest to cup his inner thigh just belong
the damnable leather flap. He massaged the muscle there absently.
Rihumme's head swam with the narcotic of the Elf's ball odor.
"Ah yes, ah yes, the aryanlapts. This stallion, Erinya, is
magnificent. Do you hear me, Rihumme? He is quite a - master of
horses.
And other things. Now tell me this - why has Aradd sent their like
into
the world?" Konyaselend turned to Rihumme. "I would like to hear your
version."
"Rihumme cannot tell you Aradd's plans for the aryanlapt," Erinya
said. "Aradd swore him to secrecy on that matter. And as for what you
ask me - "
A sudden electric odor filled the air. Rihumme's head shot up,
turned, his ears pricking forward, his nostrils sucking in huge gulps
of
the smell. A mare in heat. He now saw here, as the dark-haired Elf led
her into view. Semen simmered in his balls, blood rushed to his cock.
He
snorted, sucking in her odor, feeling the fuck spread out from his
balls
in fiery waves. She was a magnificent black mare, perfectly shaped,
well
muscled. Her eyes were softly luminous, but they were filled with the
urgent, hot need of a mare heat. A long braided mane caressed her
neck.
The smell of her - moist yielding, tight clasping - it drove
Rihumme into a frenzied state. He had hovered too long on the edge,
being so near the potent Konyaselend.
" - Aradd's animal is the horse. It is his sign. He desires to see
the horse multiply. He feels they are also you best ally in your
hopeless war. This he why he made the aryanlapt a breeder and a
speaker."
But the smile was gone from Konyaselend, and he was barely
listening. He was staring at Rihumme, watching the lust go shimmering
through the muscled flanks. His eyes widened as the brilliant pink
head
of the stallion cock spread apart the lips of the sheath. "A breeder,"
he whispered.
The mare was gazing intently at Rihumme. She was not capable of
speech, Rihumme knew, but he did not care; he only wanted to fuck. He
knew she had accepted him. The equine ritual here was being done
without
words, it was in progress towards a satisfactory conclusion though.
The
guard led her in front of Rihumme, then released her bridle. The
guard's
cock was erect. His cockhead protruded from beneath the leather kilt,
dripping precum. The blond guard was groping his crotch.
Rihumme, feeling the sex in the air, remembered who he was, where
he was. For one proud moment he lifted his head, brought himself out
of
the burning rut, turned to Konyaselend and met the Elf's bright gaze.
The horse unleashed his cock, and its long inches began to slither out
incredibly fast, driven by the high pressure that had been building
ever
since he'd laid eyes on Konyaselend. "I am a breeder. And this is my
cock." The glorious dick rushed out, curving away from the equine
belly
in a broad arc.
The dark haired guard was masturbating now. His blond companion
was unfastening his own belt.
As the length of the horse cock increased so did the width of
Konyaselend's eyes. When the full twenty-five inches of hard horse
flesh
was revealed the Elf's own cock began to lift.
Rihumme returned to the rut. The mare twitched her tail in
anticipation of being mounted. She spread her legs, and squatted down
a
bit into the preferred equine position. Rihumme bent his face forward,
his upper lip curling to reveal his extended tongue. This was not
really
equine - it was aryanlapt - but she would love this as much as Rihumme
loved doing it. And the Elves would be - well, interested.
He bent his head down, inhaling her odor, the biting scent of her
hot cunt driving away Konyaselend's ball musk. His prick was leaking a
torrent of precum; he felt as if he were pissing precum.
He covered her protruding clitoris with his lips, nibbled at it
with his teeth. There was a surprised neighing - he heard it faintly,
but did not care. His tongue slid over the hard button. He sucked it
into his mouth like it was a cock, nibbled at it. She whickered in
pleasure, her eyes slitting at his began to eat her. He thrust his
tongue forward and down a bit, between the lips of her cunt.
Konyaselend's cock, all twelve hard inches of it, poked out from
his groin, a flesh sword thrusting the narrow flap of leather aside.
All
three Elves were now erect, all their eyes locked on the stallion who
was tonguing the mare, on the stallion who looked to be on the verge
of
firing a huge load into the air, on the stallion who ruled the moment
with his cock. The bright purple head of Konyselend's cock spat a
pearlescent rope of precum, a little precursor orgasm, which drifted
in
a slow fall like a spider dropping on a line of silk towards the
ground.
Honey - lubricant leaked from her cunt - dripped off Rihumme's
chin as he ate and ate. She hunched her ass against his probing face,
twisted it to send his tongue swirling around her channel. She rubbed
the tiny hard nub of her clit over the ridges of his teeth. She was
whinnying, panting, snorting. If she'd been aryanlapt (the colt she'd
bear from this fucking would be) she'd have been babbling delirously.
In a smooth movement Rihumme pulled back, lunged up onto her
smooth back, and slid forward. His cock plunged into her cunt, between
the dripping, gaping lips. The warm wetness slurped up along his
length.
He took her in that one powerful thrust, as horses did when fucking
other horses. The pleasure of him finally in her sent her to bucking
her
hips, back at him, violently urging him deeper into her. His cockhead
was lodged in her womb, but still she wanted him further inside her.
Her
cuntlips pursed and kissed at his balls.
He yanked it out, slammed it back in, one powerful thrust of his
hips sending shuddering waves of pleasure through her. The flared
ridge
of his cockhead dragged through the wet tight tunnel.
"Gods," said Konyaselend, lube freely dripping now, as if he were
in the cunt with Rihumme.
Erinya, whose sexual drives turned neither to horses nor Elves,
and who was therefor completely unaroused, said, "Yes, he is
impressive.
And I see you find him exciting to watch."
"Gods, yes. I've never seen a mare in such pleasure. I've never
seen a stallion fuck with suck power."
"After a few such sessions with Rihumme, she will begin to come
into heat more often. She will bear more colts for you."
"Yes ... yes."
Rihumme was snorting, puffing, eyes shut, fucking her and fucking
everything with a hole to fuck. His cock lube mixed with her cunt
lube,
they squished together as they fucked. A red glow spread out of his
balls and into his brain. The pressure was building. The need to blow
a
load was absolute. The odor of erect Konyaselend was now clear in his
nostrils, a brilliant narcotic. Rihumme turned, in the middle of his
longcocking, to look the Elf again in the eyes.
The Elf had grabbed the dark haired guard by the ears, forced him
to his knees. Konyaselend had thrust his cock into the guard's mouth.
A
bulge was moving up and down the guard's throat near the base of the
deck. The blond guard was also on his knees, behind Konyaselend,
tonguing the Elf's ass, jacking off. Konyaselend's eyes were focused
directly on the plunging, rearing horse cock.
The explosions of jism came simultaneously, equine eye on Elven
cock, Elven eye on horse dick.
* * *
The horse stopped his story. He had an erection. So did Salanu.
"And that is only part of what I needed to tell you." He looked
upward,
his long horse face raised like an erection towards the sky. "It is
getting late."
"I want to hear this story. It - stirs things within me. I have to
tell you. I don't really know why I want animals. I only know I do.
I've
never really thought about that question. But this story - its making
me
think."
The horse said, "Yes, well and good. But as for now, bend over."
Salanu rose, his cock hard and stiff, jutting up between his legs.
He looked at the stallion's heavy, dangling balls, the thick pink cock
already dripping lusty precum. A slight smile came to his lips as he
thought of the pleasure that would soon be his. He turned, presenting
his chiseled, muscled ass to the erect stallion. There was no choice
for
him now but to obey his animalistic master.
The horse mounted the boy, advancing on him arrogantly, sure of
his power and dominion over the boy. The greatest instrument of power
on
this world was an upraised, erect cock. Like a sword it ruled the
moment, could bring life or destruction. The stallion could feel the
boy's warmth between his legs. In the cool night it felt as if he
straddled the sun. Aradd would be proud.
The thick cock head probed between Salanu's cheecks. No equine
ritual; they were mates, and mates always gave what was demanded of
them
sexually. But nonetheless Rihumme paused, precum dripping into the
very
cup of Salanu's ass, and he said, "Are you sure you can take this?
With
nothing to support you?"
"I'll have your cock to support me, my lord.""
And the horse drove his dick into the silken tunnel. The churning
began again in Salanu's guts. It was heaven.
And it breaks off here. I won't guarantee there will ever be any
more.
