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Years of delicious masochism had warped Buzzcunt. The mare could not even remember the name she had willfully given up to her master. Only that he had cruelly tossed it aside, as with her dignity and shame. The vibe between her legs whirred to life yet again, building pleasure that would see no release thanks to the system her master had made. Such a wonderfully smart coyote, knowing just how to push her.

Her ears fluttered from the holes in her hood, picking up two pairs of footsteps from above the basement. One soft, another heavy, she knew them well. The first belonged to her master, no doubt wearing leather boots she'd lovingly kiss the moment he let her. The other, heavier steps, came from his friend, Ivan. A shire stallion who occasionally acted as a workhorse for fun. Not a real workhorse, like Buzzcunt.

"I'm gonna miss this place." She heard Ivan say as they reached the basement. "A lot of memories, a lot of fun."

"Lots of maintenance." Her master grumbled. "I ran the numbers, I'm bleeding money unless I get others to help plow the field. I'd need at least three of you here on full time. Better just to sell it all."

Sell? Buzzcunt's head waivered at that. Her master intended to sell the farm? Where would they go? Buzzcunt was a workhorse, her purpose was to push and pull, physical labor rewarded with the sweet stings of his harsh hands. Perhaps they would go somewhere smaller, where should could become just his masochist rather than his labor slave. She smiled underneath her latex hood, losing herself in the fantasy.

"Yeah, I get it. Shame though," Ivan's tone matched his words. "Figured you'd have fun making that dalmatian run around like a feral in the open fields."

Dalmatian? Buzzcunt hadn't seen any dalmatian visit the homestead. Could she have been one of the many guests Mark had invited to enjoy? While the mare could only listen from below, envious of their pleasure? The way Ivan spoke of her though, it only made her fears grow.

"You know those kind of restraints make it difficult to run." Mark opened her door, the light of the basement casting his form in a silhouette. Still handsome, despite being a few inches shorter than her. The coyote barely paid her much attention as he unhooked Buzzcunt from the wall, continuing his conversation as though she wasn't there. "I'd prefer to make her an inside dog. That's why I got that smaller plot of land. Still private, but less to maintain."

"What about her?" Ivan pointed to Buzzcunt. She stood stiff for a moment, as though her finger acted like a pistol. A swift slap from Mark's heavy hand across her backside, followed by a command set her forward again, head down and ignoring the two. Secretly she feared the worst.

"As you can see, she's proving to be annoying. Not as much as when she begged for me in bars, but still can't follow commands without my guidance." Her master sighed, "Thinking I'll just let her go."

Years of training and foundation cracked at those words. She stumbled and froze, pausing for an eternity of five seconds until the sting of her master's crop fell on her behind. Tears seeped behind the holes of her hood. Not from the delicious pain, but from the heartache of what was to come.

Buzzcunt had given everything willingly to her master. Her property, her money, even her very name. Without him, she was nothing. She wanted to be nothing more than his, to feel the sweet embrace of his sadism across the masochistic nerves across her body. If he were to let her go, she would have no one. Her parents would never accept her, not after what she'd become. And even if they did, could she dare return to such a life? The utter banality of a trust fund child? No. Never!

"Just like that?" Ivan asked, "Seems like a waste." Buzzcunt nodded thoroughly in her mind, trusting the shire stallion's viewpoint.

"You don't understand just how annoying she can be." Mark answered with his usual disdain.

Ivan only laughed, "Really? How about I take her off your hands then? I could throw in some cash."

Buzzcunt's reins grew taut. She stood straight, keeping her body calm. Yet a storm brewed in her mind at the implication. Her master would sell her to Ivan? Sure, there was still a chance she'd see the coyote, especially over being let go. But it didn't stop hurting to know her master was done with her.

Mark audibly hummed it over. Pulling her reins, he turned Buzzcunt around and asked. "I'm giving you a rare choice." His words pierced her heart, but training taught her to pay attention. "I have no further use for this place, or for you. You can either be free, or I can take Ivan's offer for you. Bow to Ivan if you choose to be his. Bow to me if you wish to be free."

One choice. Her body shook, anxiety tensing her muscles. Only once had she felt such shivers, when she'd given everything to her current master. Ivan looked on with a soft grin. Buzzcunt despised it. She wanted her master's cold words. Wanted his harsh touch and disdain.

But he was done with her. There was only one choice to make. With a heavy heart, Buzzcunt buckled her knees and bowed to the chestnut stallion. "Very well." Mark pulled her back up and pushed her to the door. "Go do your morning jog. Your new master and I have business to discuss."

As the cold morning air hit her fur, tears finally fell. Her ears picked up a few phrases before the two men's voices faded out. Something about modifications being needed first hand.

***

In the months that followed, Buzzcunt watched the life she'd grown to love crumble. The farm had been sold, her master traded her off, and now she rode inside a moving trailer, filled to the brim with boxes. Ivan's kind attitude had hidden a sadistic intent as she struggled with her new piercings. Thick rings hung from not only her nipples, but her cunt had been closed by them, and one hung by her nostrils. The new nose ring was used to force her head to look at the ceiling of the trailer, while the rest of her body was bound to stand in place. The stallion had numerous straps and chains to keep her stable, so not of the bumps would dare rip out her new attachments.

Immobile, trapped, and cramped. With only the poor shock absorption of the road to tell her anything. She tensed as the trailer grinded to a halt, the various nic nacs and boxes shuffling about in tight quarters. The side door scraped open, sliding its rusty hinges down as light illuminated the room and blinded Buzzcunt for a moment. The silhouette of her new master blocked enough light for her to adjust, with him needing to duck his head in to step inside.

"Enjoy the trip?" He asked with a soft snicker and a smile. Her old master never smiled around her. She wanted to earn it, to debase herself to his darkest desires just to see that sadistic grin reach ear to ear. But Ivan...his smile was too pleasant. Too playful. Yet they belonged to the same horse who hooked her up by the nostrils inside his trailer.

Ivan led Buzzcunt by her nose ring outside. The chilling wind pushed her to cover her bare skin, but the chains strapped to her side only gave her so much movement. "Love that mountain air." Ivan said, taking a deep breath in reverence. Buzzcunt ignored him and looked around. Instead of the flat fields of her master's farm, or former farm, she found herself in a gravel-filled driveway at the bottom of a hill. At the top stood a large cabin with a porch overlook. Turning around she saw a wide sweeping valley, with a view going on for miles.

"As a kid, I loved to hike." Ivan said, not that she asked. "With a couple of smart investments made younger, I found myself with enough liquid to pretty much retire early and live wherever I pleased. So I figured, why not someplace with a view, someplace I could hike?"

Buzzcunt did not care. She remembered hating hiking as a child. The dirt, the smell, and the strain of it all. If Ivan cared for her mood, he did not show it. The stallion simply left her to enjoy what view there was while he unpacked his trailer. All the mare could think about was her former master. Her tear ducts had not dried, but the flood had passed. Now only a drizzle remained when she thought of the callous coyote. Never again would she feel his sting.

Ivan's hand pulled her to attention, roughly positioning the mare front and center. "Stand still, gotta hook everything." The clink of metal rang through her ears while his hands slipped and pulled at her restraints. Stepping back and looking satisfied, the stallion pulled a crop from his backseat and snapped it across her ass. "Get moving!" He cheerfully cried out. "We have plenty of trips to make!"

Years of being a plowing nag had toned her body for heavy loads. But the hill was another matter. Buzzcunt's hooves dug into the dirt as she ascended up the mountain path. Her hands loaded with suitcases, chains behind her dragging only Ivan knew what. She didn't bother to turn around, knowing any delay would mean another smack against her backside. Not that Ivan didn't offer a few whenever he felt like it. Always with an excuse that she was too slow, or they were wasting sunlight.

Heat between her legs betrayed old lusts.

She reasoned it was desperation. That, after being without Mark's sting for so long, her body would accept any pain as comfort. There was no way someone like Ivan, who chuckled and laughed like a friend as she hauled his stuff up, could bring her to arousal. Denial turned to anger, anger turned to strength as the trips continued.

After the first trip, Ivan had her wait at the base of his cabin. Up close she noted that despite its rugged appeal, it was clear his house was not built as an actual cabin. But real log cabins were but a thing of the past, a fantasy that could not support modern appliances. It was a two story house with the skin of a log cabin, hidden on a mountain away from prying eyes. He returned to her nearly naked, having cast aside his tight shirt and jeans, for daisy dukes that left little to the imagination. "What?" He grinned, rather than punish Buzzcunt for her confused expression. "I prefer to be naked. But I figured I'd give you something to look at while you worked. Now, back to it."

The arrogance of her new master. Buzzcunt did not care for his body. The strong muscled form that could hold her down without restraints. Heavy hands that would ripple across her body with a single slap. They all meant nothing to her, just as the bulge of his cock emphasized by his tight shorts. She had felt it enough, digging deep into her and robbing her legs of any sense of strength. How he could pound into her, his ass clenching with muscle. Buzzcunt shook her head and continued to haul, ignoring the feelings burgeoning inside her at her new master's look. It was desperation, she reasoned. Anyone would do now.

With the trailer emptied, Ivan loosened her arm chains to have her lift furniture better. Nothing as crazy as a couch, but enough chairs and S&M furniture to give her an idea of what he had in mind. Inside was as spacious as she expected, lacking much in personalized taste beyond furniture that gave off a woodsman or lumberjack feel by the way their legs were carved. "This here's the living room." Ivan leashed her by the nose ring, showcasing every inch of his house for her viewing pleasure. She denied having any but voiced no such issues. "This here's the kitchen. And I may not look it, but I am a mean cook. It's one of my favorite hobbies after I retired." His grin had Buzzcunt guess he wanted to feed her a home cooked meal. The socialite long since locked away slipped out for a solid nod at it. The slave she was slapped it back down, being fine with any meal given. Oatmeal drenched in her master's cum was Mark's preferred method.

"And this here's the bedroom." Ivan opened an oak wooden door to a wide room. A kingsized bed with a feral furred blanket lined up in the middle, with D-rings and restraints lined up at each post. He pulled her to the corner and called attention to several rings embedded into the wall. "This is where you'll be sleeping. Don't worry, I've got a little cushion bed for your legs. Never felt right having you stand all night to sleep. If you can call it that with how Mark teased ya."

Staring down, Buzzcunt found the corner he had given to be less private. Privacy was never a big concern, but it was all she could describe it as when looking. Many nights she spent in the stall in Mark's basement, a buzzer between her legs keeping her from a full restful sleep. Helping break down difficult thoughts into only willingness to serve. And she'd asked for all of it, even if she'd silently begged to be sharing the same room with her master.

She never did. Buzzcunt hadn't even been allowed upstairs on the farm, never seeing what the layout of it was. Now, as Ivan's slave, she was granted things Mark never considered. Yet she still longed for the coyote, and found Ivan's jolly attitude insufferable.

The bed creaked under his weight. Buzzcunt was pulled to the floor against her knees, placed in front of the stallion's crotch. Even now, she could see the outline of his cock, slipping out of his sheath and ready to burst. "I think it's time we celebrated the move, don't you?" He said with a playful grin, unzipping his daisy dukes. The smell hit her hard, musk and sweat building underneath that denim and released as though an ancient tomb split open. His rod overshadowed her, longer and thicker than Mark's, impressive even for a stallion. Betrayal bit at her throat as desire rose from the sight of it.

A light tug against her nose ring brought her lips to his flat head. "I know you're smart enough that I don't need to explain it." The shire stallion mused. Mouth wide, Buzzcunt wrapped her lips over the stallion's meat. Pre-cum slipped onto her tongue, its salty taste familiar as she worked her organ around the shaft. Gently, Ivan continued to tug on her nose ring, urging her deeper down his cock. She swallowed with care at each inch, much to her new master's delight.

"Mark said you gave terrible blowjobs." Ivan's other hand rested on her scalp, keeping her from pulling back against the pull of her ring, "But I'm pretty content here. Impress me and you might just earn a spot next to me tonight."

It failed to motivate. A soft bed seemed nice, but Buzzcunt did not believe she needed one. She had spent years sleeping upright, as befitted the masochist she'd become. A soft bed would just make her that, soft. This did not mean she didn't work to please the stallion. Her tongue and lips suckled and lathered what they could. When he finally let her ring go, the mare went down along his shaft. She closed her eyes and imagined the cruel coyote sneering down at her, mocking her meager attempts to get him off and earn his seed.

Despair, longing, and loose chains added up to a mistake she'd never commit otherwise. The mare slipped her hands between her legs, daring to massage and finger herself at the fantasy. But the cold metal embracing her finger wasted any effort. Ivan's chuckle snapped her from the fantasy. "I can unlock those, ya know." He said, leaning back. "But only on one condition: You let me breed you."

She stopped, rod deep in her maw. His laughter drew her attention, eyeing up past his muscled form. "What? You think I can't tell that you don't like me very much? You obey my commands, but even I can tell you're doing it not because you enjoy it, at least not fully, but because you have a duty. I'm just an extension of Mark to you. A poor one." The hand holding the back of her head gripped her tight. "I could just hold your skull steady," He explained, his voice growing deep. "Ram my cock down it like it was just some fucking onahole. Hell, I could get a cockring around the base of my dick, tie a string to it and your nose ring, and pull like some sort of fucking pulley. I could do all sorts of cruelty, and I know you'd love it."

She would. A thousand times, Buzzcunt would relish in being used like the piece of meat she'd been traded as. The mare knew that if she'd taken freedom, she'd find herself too lost, without purpose for anything, and the odds of seeing another master to answer her sadistic whims was too great.

"But, and I can tell from your look, you'd be thinking of Mark." He loosened his hold but didn't let go, using her mouth as a simple cockwarmer, "And I get it, I really do. It's hard to get over our exes. I'll provide what joy I can, but those piercings are only coming out when you've accepted me as your master."

Pulling her off, Ivan got up and grabbed a nearby leash. "Now, why don't we take a moment to enjoy the great outdoors? Get you some more exercise?" Ivan did not relent in his promise. Every day was spent with him answering her desires, with a healthy degree of enthusiasm. Each morning he'd have her give him a blowjob, then take her out on a hiking trail. Lead by her nose ring, her arms bound to her sides, and carrying their packs, she trenched up and down the mountain, naked as he was, with the cold winds biting into her muscles.

After each hike, there was a shower. Not the distant hosing down that Mark preferred, but an indoor shower with hot water and Ivan's close touch as he scrubbed every inch of her. His big hands and thick fingers toyed and teased every sensitive bit of her body, but he never asked her the question if she would let him breed her.

Breakfast was cooked. Mark had given her a standard diet of oats and his seed, sometimes forgetting his seed. Ivan took the time to feed her something different every day. He was a better cook than she imagined, even if she had to eat from a plate on the floor.

If he wanted anal, he got it. A blowjob, he got it. Beyond that, Ivan had Buzzcunt either exercise heavy loads, stretch, or simply relax in his presence while he worked on the computer. If she pushed too far, he would not reprimand her, keeping an icepack on hand if she needed it. Mark would whip her for daring to waste his time with an injury, and she thought she loved that.

She loved the whipping, nothing more. Ivan's spankings came with praise. He rewarded her masochism, smiling as she squealed with her ass turning red. He knew it wasn't a punishment, but a reward, and encouragement. Whenever she'd earn a spot next to him in bed, Buzzcunt found it so easy to rest in his arms. Her sore muscles at peace knowing the embrace of another man. On the days she did not have his bed, she woke up at his side with a blanket around her.

A gentleman. A sadistic one, but a gentleman all the same.

With what freedom she'd been given, Buzzcunt had moments to think and notice the passage of time. It took three months for her to stop dreaming of Mark. The lashes of his whip slipping away in the back of her mind. She accepted he saw her as nothing but property, even if given willingly, and pitied any new girl under his leash. With Ivan, she stayed strong, stayed lost in his pain, but lost herself in his comforts.

On a cold winter morning, bundled up against his chest, she made her decision. Waking before her master, Buzzcunt slipped underneath the covers and lathered her tongue against his sack. Slowly and dutifully, with the taste of his sweaty balls and thick musk on her tongue. He stirred, his cock crowing in response. Her hands stayed bound to her side, leaving only her mouth to service the fat rod as Ivan slowly woke. "Morning, Buzzcunt." He said with affection, slipping her off before she could finish him off. "I'm thinking of pancakes today, you?"

She was fine with whatever he made her, but it was not on her mind. She stood up without his permission, spreading her legs and reading down to pull forward what little of her pierced up cunt she could. "Master, this slave has made their decision." She said, her damned voice quivering beyond her control. Ivan looked with attention, his lip shaking as if to fight the coming smile. "Buzzcunt wants Master Ivan to breed her."

"Are you sure?" He asked, cautiously slipping out from the covers. She nodded, more sure of this than anything else in her life. In a flash his big hands held her head, but they were not rough. Instead of a sadistic slap or playful pinch, she tasted her master's lips against her own. A soft, long, and breathy kiss without tongue.

A loving kiss.

"I've been waiting for those words," He whispered, hand against her stomach, "Wait on the bed, I'll get my kit." Excitement filled her bones as she followed command, laying flat against their shared bed with legs spread. He returned with a small tool, akin to a screwdriver, and began to release the piercings of her cunt. She took a deep breath with each removed, sighing in relief with the last one gone.

Buzzcunt gasped as his tongue soon followed, the first penetration of her cunt in months. It'd been too long since anyone treated her to delicacy, edging her unease while he paused only to kiss her legs. "I've missed this." Ivan mused, straightening himself. His rod poked over her cunt, its pulsing veins brushing against it. "Beg for it."

"Please," She softly cried, "Please breed me, Master."

He shoved inside her moist pussy without another word. Buzzcunt cried out in shock, throwing her head back into the pillow. She had been fucked by him plenty of time in Mark's farm, yet she felt so full, painfully stretching her out. Weeks of hard labor had tightened her, muscles screaming in agony as he railed into her.

Ivan's heavy form hung over her, held by tree trunk arms planted beside her head. He grunted through bitten lips, restraining himself from simply jackhammering after pushing his entire shaft in. "Please," she grunted, "Please, hurt me, Master." Buzzcunt needed the pain. Her twisted brain had been broken and reforged to embrace her dark cravings. She needed to cry out in tears from the discomfort, to lose herself in agony.

He delivered. The bed shook under their combined weight, his rough hands holding her maw open as he spat inside. She was his property, his plaything, his fucktoy, and breeding mare. His personal workhorse. Waves crashed against her body as the dam broke, but he continued without mercy, riding her release wave after wave. He would not stop until he was satisfied.

And Buzzcunt was happier for it.

***

"You ordered a cradle?" Mark's surprise echoed from the corridor. Buzzcunt smiled, happily resting in her spot as she cradled her extended stomach. Master Ivan had been so happy to hear that she'd become pregnant. So was she, but Buzzcunt found herself saddened by it as well.

With a child, she could no longer be Buzzcunt. Ivan wanted to raise a healthy kid, so their play would need to be behind closed doors. She would adopt a new name, a new purpose for now until their child moved out and she could be Buzzcunt full time.

But she would always be Buzzcunt. Motherhood was just a mask she'd grow used to wearing, like the one she had before the coyote stripped it off. But that was for another time. Three sets of footsteps approached. The callous steps of her former master, the heavy weight of her current, and the soft crawling of Mark's latest pet. Buzzcunt stood in her corner, the firm latex around her body growing tight with every movement. As the door opened, she bowed her head. Ivan chuckled, "Good girl."