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Magick Harvest Chapter 3: Centaur's Breeding Post By Draconicon

It took the centaur too long to wake up to the noises around him. By the time that Rahara was completely awake and aware, there was already a rope around his neck, tugging him with more insistence than a mare in heat.

"Come on, you big-dicked brute. You got something to contribute for the Harvest."

Rahara snorted hard at the mention of the Harvest. Among his people, it was known as the Culling. The weak males were captured and taken off to who knew where, and they were sentenced to banishment if they were ever seen again. He had even participated in that, driving some of the younger colts and others away when they came back from the Harvest.

Then again, he had never expected to be one of those captured for it.

Hazy memories of being shot in the rump, of a dart and a burning feeling running through his veins were all that he had to tell him how he'd gotten from the open plains of the continent to this metal place, but it was enough. He growled deep in his throat, throwing his head back hard. His muscles bunched up, thickening and showing his bulk, and the handler at the end of the rope went flying, thrown through the air with the greatest of ease.

The centaur blinked again, ragged hair making it difficult to see as it hung over his forehead. He could barely make out the people in front of him, but he could see the ropes. Thick, heavy things that were used by hunters on the continent as well, ropes that even a centaur couldn't break, even ones with their arms free.

If I had my arms free, they wouldn't have this so easy, he thought, flexing his arms in their bindings. Thick ropes around his wrists, as far as he could tell, and maybe a little more further up near his elbows. Enough that he couldn't swing his arms around his head, couldn't do anything without dislocating them.

A fox darted to his left, and a wolf to his right. Rahara shouted at the top of his lungs, throwing the bulky, heavier lower half of his body towards the wolf. He felt the furry lump against his flanks, and grinned as it flattened against the wall of his holding cell. Pulling back and slamming his bulk against him again, and again, Rahara smirked as he heard the canine losing his breath.

"You first, then the fox! Hear that, slut? I'll make you scream before I get out of here!"

"Folf, actually."

His back almost gave out at the sudden weight that landed on it, and Rahara whipped his head around. He saw a blur of gray and red before a thick black rod came screaming towards his head. It hit his temple hard enough to knock him off-balance, his hooves tapping against the ground rapidly as he wobbled back and forth.

He heard more than saw the wolf dart out of the way, but the weight on his back was still there. Rapidly shaking his head, the centaur reared back, kicking with his front legs as he tried to throw his rider off.

It didn't work. At least, not well. The handler leaned forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and keeping a grip around his neck. Already, he could feel his breath being cut off, and the centaur stomped his hooves down.

"Let me go! I will not be culled!"

"Who said anything about that? We just want -"

"Get off!"

His powerful legs launched him into the air, and he kicked and shook and swung his body around in every way that a centaur was taught to dislodge a troublesome rider. He became a whirlwind of activity, his legs kicking out and his body rocking this way and that. It should have been simplicity itself to get rid of the rider on his back.

Instead, the folf seemed to guess what he was going to do before he did it. Leaning one way, then the other, always an instant before the centaur actually started bucking, but too late for him to change his mind. When he leaned forward, the folf leaned back. When he jumped, the folf pushed down against his back. Everything came just a bit too quickly for him to counter.

And suddenly, the black rod smacked down on his rump. Without thinking, Rahara leaped forward, charging out of his pen. Other handlers leaped out of the way, both figures in lab coats and those in more tight clothing. The centaur snorted, but kept running ahead.

The world was so different compared to his life on the continent. The open plains were gone, replaced with metal walls that soared over him like a dome, and different 'camps' that were suited for two people, at most. Males rutted everywhere, contained by little more than metal fencing that any foal could have escaped.

He ran between the different enclosures, darting past dragons and gryphons, past golems in construction and machines that he had no names for. Rahara ignored those centaurs already tied up and being treated; they were lost. He would not be.

If only I could get rid of this rider, I could get free.

But the folf refused to do the right thing and fall off of his back. The centaur huffed again and again, suddenly changing course and ramming his side against one of the metal bars. He hoped to catch the folf's leg between his side and the bar, and he managed it. Barely. It was more a pinching of the rider's ankle, but it gave him no small measure of satisfaction to accomplish it.

He reared back again, and this time, the folf did fall off. He let out a roar of triumph -

"Get your ass back here!"

Only to gag as a rope finally settled around his neck again, tightening rapidly. Even as he pulled against it, another settled over him, and another still. No fewer than five ropes wrapped around his neck, each held by a different person at a different angle. If he pulled on one, he gave some bit of slack to another, and if he tried to run, he had five people to pull him to a halt.

Coughing and gasping as he finally went still, the centaur leveled a glare on all of the people around him, letting each of them know how angry he was.

Nobody seemed to care. Several people in lab coats helped the folf to his feet, and the centaur finally got a good look at him. He was relatively short, as far as things went. Most of the rope holders stood more than a foot taller than him, and those in the lab coats stood at least four inches taller. Despite that, the folf seemed to hold himself with the confidence of a hunter, and as he stood up, showing the three diagonal scars running down the side of his face, Rahara understood.

"Hunter..."

"You bet your ass."

The folf brushed himself off, and the centaur grumbled as the smaller male seemed to have no trouble walking. So much for actually managing to injure him.

Taking one of the ropes, the folf pulled him along, dragging him towards one of the enclosures. Rahara had little choice but to follow, even though he did it as slowly as he could, digging in his hooves where he could. If they were going to cull him, they were going to work at it.

Ryker - as the folf introduced himself - pulled him into one of the enclosures at the edge of the big place. The brass and copper bars were thicker than he expected, and as it shut behind him, Rahara re-evaluated the idea that a foal might escape. It was high enough that even he might have trouble, if he were free.

The centaur tried to lean against it, complacently, but the folf gave him a yank that nearly pulled him off his feet. He cursed, trotting forward towards the center of the enclosure.

"How are you so strong?"

"Lots of work hunting you and yours. You'd be surprised how much they pay for that sort of thing."

"Whelp."

"Oh, not so much. I prefer to deal with studs. Heh. Always fun to break them."

"You won't break me! I am not like those weaklings that you usually hunt."

"You know, I'm pretty sure that's what they say every year. Are you sure this is your first time?"

Roped or not, the centaur would not take that. He reared back on his hind legs, kicking out against the folf. He swore he hit something, and he brought his forelegs down hard, intending to crush the insolence out of the creature.

Instead, he grunted as his lower body was half-lifted off of the ground, his forelegs in the air and wrapped around the end of something large, warm, and surprisingly soft. Rahara glanced around, trying to figure out what was going on, but the bulk of his lower body hid whatever he had landed on. Not the folf, unfortunately, but perhaps -

"You know, I've seen colts that move faster than that. Are you sure that you're not just on the way to the glue factory?"

Behind him? How?! But even as he looked over his shoulder, the folf was tying down several ropes, pulling them tight around different parts of the enclosure. He didn't need to fight it to know that he was essentially locked in the middle of the pen, unable to move from his spot.

"When I get out of this..."

"Why don't we pretend you said something more witty than you actually will, huh? That way, you can tell the story to your herd later, and I don't have to listen to another threat that doesn't mean anything."

"You are too arrogant for your own good. I'll make sure to find you, folf. I'll hunt you down, bend you over, and show you just what it means to trifle with a centaur. We do not forget! We are - AH!"

A sudden jolt of electricity from under his tail was more than enough to knock his thoughts off-course. If it hadn't been for the plush support under his forelegs, he might have collapsed. Rahara gritted his teeth as the jolts of electricity gradually moved closer and closer to the center between his rump cheeks, closer and closer to the rounded hole between.

He wouldn't...they wouldn't actually...

The idea of a centaur stud being penetrated was something too demeaning to actually happen. Yes, it was used as a punishment for those that had overstepped themselves, for males that had trifled with another stallion's mares, but it wasn't something that they had to live with for long. It was a punishment followed by -

"Don't! I will...cooperate..."

"Hmm?"

He didn't like the sound of laughter in the folf's voice, nor did he like the feeling of sparks running down his rump. Each little zap made him stomp down, hard, and his low-hanging balls jumped with the zap.

"Do not put anything in there, and I will...go along with you."

"Oh, you mean here?"

This time, the zap was much stronger, and Rahara slumped forward on his support. His hands clenched behind his back as his hole twitched and throbbed, puckering hard and clenching at the pointed tip of the folf's baton. He wanted to kick back so very, very badly, but it was impossible at this angle.

And this was just from the end of the baton touching him, just from a casual tracing around his hole. He couldn't allow it in. He just couldn't.

"Yes. Yes, there. I swear, on a centaur's honor -"

"Odd. I'd think you'd be swearing on a virgin's cunt. Or would it be more along this stud-stick down here?"

The baton moved down, and the electricity zapped his sheath. The only thing that kept it from being painful was the fact that it was a much, much lower power, and he shuddered as he felt his cock slowly drop from its sheath, coming out into the open and dangling down between his hind legs.

Despite himself, Rahara smirked. He knew that he had a big cock, one that had broken mares, humans, and females of a dozen species around it. He'd pushed them to their knees and rutted them until they begged for more, until he had a harem of his own bitches that were eager to serve him in any way that he liked. No matter the folf's disrespect for him, he had to admire what was the true epitome of manhood.

The sparks continued to rain down on his cock, bringing it up higher and higher, getting him harder and harder, and the centaur started panting. He groaned, his cock starting to throb as it reached full erection, the tip getting damp as he started to drip. He turned, smiling, expecting some look of awe on the folf's face.

Instead, he saw the smaller male shrug.

"Well, I've seen bigger. It's not bad, though. Certainly enough to have a mouse squirming. If he's a virgin, maybe."

"You bastard! You think you can -"

"Ah ah ah."

Ryker moved faster than he expected, the baton smacking him right on the hole once more. Another burst of heat, another flash of pain and pleasure at once. His rump burned as his hole flexed and puckered like that of a mare in heat. He knew what it looked like; he'd seen the rare stallion that had a mare's heart, that bent for the real studs and enjoyed it. He knew that was what his hole looked like right then and there, even if it was only a reaction.

The folf tapped him twice more, almost like a parent disciplining their foal, and he had no choice but to take it. He growled, stomping his hooves, but he felt a heat running through him that lingered after the baton was taken away. A heat that...that throbbed through his cock, leaving him twitching, needy, and -

No. I am not like that! I'm a stud. I'm a centaur stud, and I am not going to take anything back there!

"Now, I think you said something about cooperating, my 'stud' friend?"

"I...am a stud..."

"Must be some sort of centaur thing, really, because I don't really see it here. Or are you a little faster when you're rutting something? Maybe you make up for it in technique or something."

The folf shrugged, silencing the centaur's reply with a quick flick against his balls. The sudden zap left Rahara whinnying in a mix of pain and pleasure, the zap making everything twitch and bounce, and leaving him shooting a jet of pre onto the floor.

"I don't really care, of course. After all, I'm not like those foxes that you're probably used to seeing. I'm not one of those cock-molded sluts that shapes themselves to the cocks of other males. No...no, I prefer to be the one doing that to other men. And that big, round ass of yours is starting to look real inviting.

"So, let's see if you can earn the chance to avoid my cock pounding your hole, hmm? Do you think we can do that, 'stud' of the spindly sort?"

"I'll do whatever it takes..."

"Yes, to avoid getting fucked like the little mare you are, hmm? Yes, I know, I know."

As the folf spun the baton around, Rahara couldn't think of anything he'd like to do more than pound the little male's face in. The humiliation that he was suffering even going this far was something he'd never live down, particularly if any of the centaurs around him were watching. If he could make sure that none of them told his tribe...if he could avoid having something shoved up there...

Maybe he could pretend that he wasn't around for a month or so, rather than taking part of the culling. He didn't want to give up his harem of mares and bitches, after all, and if he was spoiled by this thing -

The baton flicked against his flank, and his leg stomped before he could stop it.

"Alright. First thing. My employers want a lot of that magical cum you got swirling around in your balls. Back before Mr. Masterson -"

"Lord Masterson, please!"

Sparing a wave of his hand for the shout from a distance, the folf continued.

"Whatever. Before 'Lord' Masterson came up with his invention that milked your sort of your seed, we would have put you up against some very willing sluts, and siphoned what we could out of them later. That, of course, wasn't a very good system, because we lost a lot of the arcane energy before it actually got harvested. Poor little you, huh? Or would it be poor little slut, considering they wouldn't even feel that thing of yours?"

"I told you I would obey. I didn't say I would take insults!"

"Better to take insults than a dick up your ass, huh?"

Rahara swore that his tongue would start bleeding by the end of this, and he didn't know how much more he could take. As it was, he would have trampled this folf by now if he felt he could get away with it.

"How good is your oath, Centaur?"

"I'll swear by whatever you want."

"Alright, then. How about you swear on those balls of yours? Disobey, and I get what I want by lopping 'em off."

His eyes felt like they were about to pop out of their head. Aside from having their dick removed, a threat didn't exist that terrified a centaur more. He told himself that it must have been a trick, that the folf didn't really intend on doing it...but he couldn't take that risk. If he made that oath...

"I..."

"Yeeeeees?"

"I swear on my sac...that I will obey your orders...for the duration of the Culling."

"Well, it's the harvest, but you got the main point."

The folf whistled, and workers that Rahara hadn't been paying attention to suddenly flicked at the different lengths of rope. The knots came undone easily, and the centaur was able to move once more. He pushed himself back from the support almost immediately, and grunted at the sudden smack of his cock against his belly. He'd forgotten how hard he'd been made to get.

No sooner had he dismounted the support than he was able to finally see it. His eyes went wide at the big hole at the front of it, large enough for his cock and then some, and molded in the shape of a mare's cunt. It was wet, too, probably pre-lubed by whoever had been here before.

His cock, already hard, started to twitch and throb against his belly. He turned to the folf with a smirk, gesturing at the hole.

"A breeding post? You wish me to fill it?"

"Hmm, if you can. That little thing doesn't look like it'll reach to the back, honestly, but hey, maybe you're pent up enough that you can shoot far enough to do it."

"Ha! Little man, I am man enough to breed a dozen of these!"

He pulled himself forward, lifting up his forelegs again and setting them down properly. Now, now the folf would get to see how a real man fucked, how a real man treated a mare under him. Rahara had every intention of leaving the folf so amazed at his prowess that mockery would be impossible.

He slammed his cock into the hole, and immediately grunted at the pleasure of such a wet tunnel. It was even hotter than a mare in the depth of her need, and he could feel it squeezing on him almost instantly.

His horse parts moved fast, his haunches pumping back and forth and swinging his heavy sac along with it. Every thrust reminded him of the threat against them, and he thrust harder, faster, filling the post with his cock every single time.

However, no matter how much of his cock he rammed in, he couldn't feel the other end. His cheeks started burning as he realized that it wasn't filled to the brim the way that his mares and his bitches were, back at home, and he started thrusting deeper. He pulled himself closer, dragging his body over the post with his hooves. It was just a matter of a bad position, that was all; he wasn't a short-dicked stud, no matter what the folf said.

He could feel his orgasm rising already, getting closer and closer as the folf watched him. The centaur snorted, trying to ignore the eyes of another male on him, but feeling...oddly wanting, as if he wasn't measuring up to the folf.

What is wrong with me? There is nothing to measure. He is far from the stud I am. He kidnapped me. He is forcing me to obey. Why...why do I care what he thinks?

Whatever it was, he tried to push it out of his mind. It wasn't helping him stay hard, and if he didn't finish soon...Well, he didn't want to think of the consequences.

A few more humps and thrust took him over the edge, and he moaned as he filled the breeding post with the full length of his cock. It throbbed and pulsed as he unloaded in there, feeling his sac pulling up against his hind legs, his cock swelling at the tip. Every shot splashed back towards him, soaking his dick in a potent layer of his own seed, and he sighed in pleasure.

As he pulled back, he heard a soft whirring, and almost slammed right back in as the post started sucking on his dick. He screamed as his hyper-sensitive shaft was squeezed, the tip rubbed and sucked on by unseen machines.

"What are you doing?! I did what you wanted!"

"Ah, well, you did it once. My employers want everything you can give, you know. That means you don't get to keep any on your dick."

"It hurts, you -"

"Hmmm?"

The folf tapped the baton against his palm, and the sight was enough to shut the centaur up again. The last thing he needed was to tempt the damnable male to use it again, not when his hole was only now starting to stop twitching. Still, he had to bite his lip to avoid screaming as his dick was cleaned by the machine.

Finally, when he thought his cock could take no more, it stopped. He slumped back, his cock hanging down between his legs, throbbing and burning, and as he looked down at it, swollen and red. He shuddered at how it would feel tomorrow, but at least he'd given -

"Why are you stopping?"

"What are you talking about? I bred your post."

"Hmmm, what was it you said? That you could breed a dozen of them?"

His own words played back in his head, and Rahara came nearer to fainting than he could ever remember doing in the past. The frantic rut had taken more out of him than he wanted to admit, and even on his relaxed days back home, he had never bred more than five of his females in one go. Never so hard as he had bred the post, either.

Why...that would be impossible...

"I...I mis-spoke. I -"

"Are you saying that you lied to me? That you can't obey me?"

Feeling a sinking feeling in his balls, the centaur glanced around, looking for inspiration for a new erection, or some way out. As he did, the folf leaned back against the enclosure.

"You know, the company keeps a fair bit of chemicals on the premises. Something about giving males a better time when they're doing all this. I've heard that it's given people the stamina to get through four dozen milkings."

"You...have?"

"Yes...but it is the wimp's way out. A true 'stud' shouldn't need that, no more than he'd need this thing rammed up his rump."

The folf chuckled as he spun the baton, and Rahara gulped.

What do they want from me? What...I can't...

He had to obey. There was no question about that. If he didn't, then he'd lose his balls, and no centaur would see him the same ever again. As he looked around, seeing the other studs getting their cocks teased, their manhoods milked, Rahara wondered just how much attention they were paying others around them. What if...

If they're too into it to notice...

"Maybe...I should try the chemical. After all...a stud should know his competition."

The folf smirked.

"I'll see what I can do."

Ryker stepped back from the enclosure, leaving the embarrassed stallion to consider what would happen to him. The folf already knew that the plan was working out just fine, and would have bet money that his baton would be up that big, equine ass in two hours, and his cock would follow right after.

He flagged down a passing volunteer, patting the older cow's arm to get her attention.

"Grab some of the Strength 3 aphrodisiacs for the stallion in Pen 17. He's gonna need it."

"Sure. Think he'll want some milk too?"

The way that she was hefting her breasts, he had little doubt of what she meant. Chuckling, Ryker shook his head.

"No, I'm trying to keep him focused on his cock, and then on his ass. The last thing I need is him working on your tits."

"Damn. They're getting heavy."

"Maybe when he breaks down a bit, hmm?"

"You better remember, Ryker. I almost never get a turn with those studs; do you know how hard it is to get them to treat you like anything more than a walking cunt?"

"Not that hard, really."

"Not when you're turning them into walking cum-dumps, I suppose."

"The aphrodisiacs?"

"Yes, yes, I'll get them."

He let her go, shaking his head. It wasn't his fault that his method worked better than any other. Yes, it did have an effect on the psyche of a centaur in question, but it got them producing and competing in a way that nothing else did.

He'd figured it out years ago. Play on the pride of a centaur, pushing them to think that their masculinity was in question. As soon as they started to think that it was perhaps less than what they believed it to be - an easy task when he lied about their size - he could take control. They appreciated a physical hand, and submitted to strength.

Follow that up with a threat to their balls, and he had his way in. It was the universal gap in the centaurian culture, when it came down to it. They'd do anything to avoid having their balls chopped off, to the point where he knew that he'd never have to go through with his threat.

Ryker leaned against the enclosure, watching as his centaur forced himself into another erection - a floppier one than before, but nonetheless an erection - and started forcing it into the breeding tube. He subtly pressed the remote control in his pocket, activating the suction function to drag that dick in deep, and sighed at the sound of the pleasured, pained moans of his captive subject.

Hehehe, always so fun to play with their heads.

He massaged his cock in his pants, already anticipating what it would feel like to fuck the brains out of that centaur. They always put up a fight, but they always succumbed. Sure, they'd be all sorts of confused when they went back to the wild, after the Harvest. After all, one couldn't have one's orientation fucked with that much without some consequences. But they were much more...civilized, afterwards, and he'd even heard of some of them offering their services on the border as guards or scouts...and some as much more.

"Here's that aphrodisiac."

"Why, thank - GAH!"

Ryker coughed, the uncapped vial of Strength 3 spilling a few droplets on his face. He spat on the ground, but the damage was done. His cock was already throbbing to a painfully hard erection in his pants, and begging to be touched. He shuddered, looking up at the cow girl.

"What...the fuck..."

"Oh, I just figured you needed a reminder of what you were doing to the poor centaur. Have fun, horse-fucker."

She patted his cheek gently before walking off, her voice playful if not entirely nice. The folf groaned, shaking his head as he tried to collect his thoughts.

Okay...need to step it up...step it up, or I'm going to be the one needing a breeding post... he thought as he stepped back in the enclosure. Maybe a little...over his ass...rather than down his throat...

The End