FSE

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Being a slave was, ironically, the best thing to ever happen to Eric. Sure, the rope around his wrists was starting to chaff, and the massive ballgag inside his maw had been there long enough that he'd grown bored of trying to munch it, but the excitement of what was coming kept his cock half-erect throughout the entire ride. It made every turn or bump on the road almost pleasant from the back of the feral horse trailer.

Seamus, the tiger's master, could have let him ride in the truck with him. There was plenty of room and comfy seats. Even if he wasn't allowed to sit, the backseats had a perfectly wide space for him to lay down in bondage. But his master preferred to travel this way. Said it was to keep Eric in line and remind him of his place. If Eric had permission to disagree, he'd say it wasn't necessary. He'd happily kneel at the horse's hooves without being asked to, and not just because he was kept well-fed and comfortable. There was an allure to submission. He couldn't quite describe it, only that the directing touch or command just felt right to the white tiger on another level.

Or maybe the conditioning broke him. Eric couldn't remember much of his life before being a slave. But that didn't matter. His happiness was Seamus's happiness and he was determined to keep the horse entertained.

The trailer stopped hard enough for Eric to swing forward. His free legs strained to keep himself steady. The truck's door slam sent shivers up his spine while heavy footsteps rattled his nerves excitedly. The blindfold prevented him from peering outside the trailer, though if memory served him correctly, his master's trailer had no windows anyway. Better for maximum privacy.

Anticipation peaked at the roll of metal doors, followed by heavy footsteps against the rubber mats. "Enjoy the ride, pretty boy?" Seamus asked, his Scottish accent thick yet never incomprehensible. Eric nodded enthusiastically, stopping thanks to thick and calloused fingers grabbing his headfur to yank him back. "That's a good lad," Seamus whispered close enough for the fur of his face to brush against his slave. He smelled Guinness on the horse's breath, the first of many drinks he'd consume tonight.

"The boys have been looking forward to ya. They can scarcely believe a word I say." Rough and ready hands clasped his chest, pulling Eric into the wide belly of the larger horse. Seamus freely groped his property as he spoke. Eric would have allowed it even without the collar. "Hard enough I find anyone outside of a horse able to take me, but to beg for it on top of that is a pipedream. These guys have been wanting to try you out and I've been hyping ya up, so you best not let me down. Understood?"

Eric nodded as two fingers clasped his chin to tilt the blinded tiger up. "Good, 'cause I'd hate to have to punish you for failing. I may be a hard man, but it gives me no joy in turning that arse of yours red."

Led by chains, Eric guessed his surroundings by the nature around him. From the cool wind that brushed his fur to the soft grass that soon snapped against cold cement floors. He assumed it was nightfall given the chill in the air and lack of sun rays against his fur. Wooden doors creaked, followed by the nickering of a horse as they approached.

"Boggin," said someone, surprised and excited, "Seamus, you weren't joking."

"I don't joke, Archie." Seamus yanked his slave close, clutching the tiger in both arms before forcing him to kneel on the ground. "I told you I got a pretty bitch. You gonna tell me he ain't pretty?"

"Looks a bit flimsy," said a third voice, "You keep him around like a showpony? No way a twink like that could take you. No way he could take me."

The hefty hand of his master combed through his hair while the horse laughed. "Oh, you'll be in for a shock then, Finley. This pretty boy's an excellent cocksleeve. But why don't I let him tell you that?" His maw ached the moment his gag came undone. Next came the blindfold. For a moment Eric shielded his eyes from the artificial light. After a few blinks and a gentle but firm grip from his master, the tiger looked forward at the audience before him.

Three stallions. One with a flat stomach and muscular, one lanky enough to be considered a donkey, and one with some extra meat on him. They each wore kilts like he saw Seamus from the corner of his eye. "Oi, twink's smiling." One of the men said.

"His cock's smiling too if you call an erection a smile." Said another, promptly earning an elbow and a snicker from one of his friends.

Seamus tapped Eric's head, "Introduce yourself. Tell my mates what they want to hear."

Straightening his back the white tiger kneeled up with his chest buffed. Seamus unlocked his hands so he could hold them behind his head. "My master refers to me as Eric. I am his slave. With his permission, you may use me as you please. He has trained me to take him without issue, a skill I am more than happy to share with you all."

"Well, alright then." The muscular stallion of tan fur stepped up. Grabbing Eric's face, he parted his kilt to reveal his sagging sack and horsesheath. "Get to fuckin work then, slave."

To work he did. Breathing in the hearty musk of the stallion, Eric pressed his nose against the sack. Its weight pressed against him, heavy enough that he could only imagine the virile seed packed inside of it. Licked lips suckled the head of the sheath his fingers pulled apart, and the intense flavor of sweat and hard work rolled over his tongue. He drank it up, lapping gleefully against the stallion's urethra.

It grew inside of him. Inch by inch his maw filled with thick horsecock. He did not move from his place. The stallion's rod pushed past his teeth and down his gullet, soaking in its warmth.

He pulled off not by his own will but by a slow and strong pull from the stallion. The equine's eyes went wide at his saliva-drenched cock. "Holy shite. The throat on this bitch." He said with a hesitant grin. Eric's heart leaped at the insult. He kept his chest out and lowered his head for more. "Oh? You like that, slut?" The horse said, his hoof gently kicking the erection between the tiger's legs.

Eric nodded. "I do, sir."

"Face me." Eric followed the command, earning the weight of a wet cock smacked against his face for his efforts. The horse laughed, "Do you like this, whore?" He asked, batting his rod like a fleshy club. "Being my fucking dickbag."

"Dickbag?" One of the other horses snickered, "Christ, you've got shite ideas." Eric kept that to himself as another stallion kneeled down behind him. A thick hand grabbed his cock, squeezing it just enough for the tiger to gasp.

"So tell me, Dickbag," the horse whispered loudly with a snicker, "You like being Shamus's personal fucktoy? His bitch?"

"Y-Yes, sir." The questions were easy. The tight handjob between his legs made them less so.

"I bet you do. Tell me, what's he make you do? Not just the dirty details, the boring ones. How much of a life do you really have under his thumb?"

Expecting a different kind of probing altogether, Eric struggled to think of things. The stallion took his silence badly, reaching down to squeeze his sack until he answered. "Ah, ah, I cook and clean when he's not home. S-Sometimes I toy with myself when I'm free. To practice servicing him."

"Toy with himself he says," the stallion's all laughed. The one pumping his cock continued with another question. "Anal only, slut? What about this dick here?" His hot breath cascaded down the tiger's neck, "You ever thought about sticking it in your master's ass? Feel what it's like to pitch? I'd say he'd like it. Shamus's also got a soft spot."

"Oi, fuck off," Shamus said from across the way.

He never pitched, not before his training. But the thought of his master's thick ass bent over and waiting for him was tempting. Almost enough that he didn't flinch when the stallion pushed him to the ground. "Well hello, that's a big plug." Said one horse as the toy was twisted and pulled from Eric's ass. The sudden empty feeling deflated him, leaving the slave to bounce his butt for something new.

Something new filled it quickly. Warm and wide it spread his hole apart and slipped in with little lube. He didn't need much anymore anyway. "Gods be damned," The stallion pushed his face to the earth as he slipped deeper in. "He's fucking loose. Can't say I've met anyone outside of a mare to take me."

"Trust me, he can take more."

His master's words must have inspired confidence in the horse as his fat cock pushed through without rest. Eric's gasp slipped through his lips at the pressure pushing against his prostate. Pulled back by his headfur he cried out as the horse passed their median ring. "He make you ride his cock?" the horse asked, to which Eric nodded as well as he could. "Bounce on it? Like some fucking queer rabbit?"

"Yes sir."

"Then do it." He let go, "I wanna see just how far you can go without my help."

Using his arms to prop himself up, Eric gathered his breath and sank deeper on his own. Its heat and size spread him enough that he swore his legs would fail him. Training made sure they didn't, no matter how much he'd begged in the past. He would never stop until they were satisfied.

From the wet slaps and the horse's grunts it sounded like he was. So much so that he soon forgot his word and started thrusting back into Eric. Hefting him up by the stallion's cock and locking arms under his legs, the tiger found himself cradled by the musclebound equine. Gravity being the only force pressing down against the hip bashing pounding of his master's friend.

"Face him toward me," Seamus commanded. Eric tried to arc himself over before the horse listened. A thick hand grabbed his throat, holding it tight to brace the light slap that followed. "Open your mouth, slut." He did. Seamus's spit came next. He swallowed before being told, earning another slap.

It was the kiss that caught everyone's attention, save for the horse currently fucking Eric. The heavy tongue wrestled his own with a strong breath sucking his life away. Toes curled and pleasure surged, but the clasped lips kept his cries silent.

"You fucking kiss the bitch's mouth?" One stallion asked, "You should know where it's been."

"It's been worse places than your sack. Besides, I do what I want with my property." He veered down to his kilt, spotting a hint of white splooge across it. "Gonna need to punish you for that. Didn't say you could cum." Whatever apology was silenced by his master's hand shoving itself into his maw. "No excuses. Gotta keep you in line."

The stallion holding him cried out and hilted. One pulse, two, then three echoed into him, each filling his insides enough that some spilled out when he withdrew. "Fuckin-A. How's he so goddamn loose? I feel like he could fit two of us."

"He can."

Eric rode his master and another rod together against his legs with burning muscles. One stallion grabbed his head and slipped down one fat cock into his maw, forcing him to breathe through his nose. And when he couldn't breathe, the stallion tested how long Eric could hold his breath while a sizable sack slapped his chin.

They took their turns until they grew impatient and went with each other. Sometimes he was sucking a cock as he was fucked, sometimes just one, and at least once he was handed off to now one while the horse's were balls deep in another. Seamus quickly made Eric stay close to give whoever was catching a rim ob. By the time they'd stopped, the sun was out. Eric was too tired to look around. Too tired to walk.

Seamus carried him back to the truck. Not the trailer, but the passenger seat. Taking a weighted blanket from the backseat, Seamus let his slave cuddle into it before buckling up. "The boys loved ya. How'd you take it?"

Eric didn't answer, he had already fallen asleep. He felt one last pet from his master before drifting away entirely. If he could answer, the tiger would happily do it again. And not just because Seamus asked him to.