FSE

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James tugged his jacket to straighten it as he followed behind his friend down a hall way that was so richly decorated that it made him feel grubby even in his best clothes. He hadn't grown up rich, though many assumed that he had. His family had a fine noble name that extended all the way back to the time of William the Conqueror, but the title was all the wealth they possessed. His grandfather had spent their fortune and whittled it away until all they had lest was a moldering family estate that still ran on candle light and a patch of land they could hunt on. It allowed them to stay fed and even gave them some sense of being a part of the upper class, but it was only an illusion. It was an illusion he had always been told to keep carefully in place even to his dearest friends.

His friend's home had nothing in common with his estate and the way it had fallen apart. It was decorated with rugs from the orient and pictures that looked like they had been inherited for centuries from father to son. It was recently remodeled to allow the new gas lights in that lit everything brightly enough that it could almost be daylight. There were no weak candles here and nothing that could possibly be considered old fashioned. He had even seen a phonograph and heard the rich tones coming from the cone. It was wonderful and the air of wealth that hung around the place made him feel grubby and ashamed of himself.

He looked at Charles as the young man walked quickly in front of him and nearly ran up the stairs that led to the west wing. Charles was everything a young man should be. He was good humored and had a boisterous personality. He was always well dressed even when he claimed he was in working clothes. At the moment he wore a pair of riding pants and a loose white blouse that was slightly rumpled, but even that looked lovely on him. The froth of lace along his throat was pierced through with a silver pin that ended in a horse shoe. He shrugged it off as his normal attire for stable work, but to James it looked as if he were living in the lap of luxury. It was everything that made him feel as if he were a beggar being tolerated into high society.

His own clothing was of good quality, but several decades out of fashion. It had been tailored and retailored over and over again. It had been his father's and, while it was serviceable enough, it was not what he would have possibly chosen to wear around his friend. It reflected his humble status far too keenly. Charles never mentioned his grubby state or even made veiled remarks about how he avoided all social occasions and never invited others into his home. It made him feel a bit better when they were able to get together for a game of cards or enjoy an afternoon at the park. They never went somewhere that he would have to shell out money and it was one of the few times he was able to relax. Even if Charles lived high on the hoof at his family's home.

"This way, James. Da always insists on keeping his office up here because it helps him to think better." Charles laughed and glanced back at him while speaking. A hint a Welsh accent came when he pronounced the word 'Da'. "When Mother was alive he would have his office on the lower level so he could be closer to her, but well.. that's how he went after she passed away. A bit strange."

"It's fine. I don't mind the walk in the least bit, Charles. You have a lovely home after all and it's only a stretch of the legs." James replied generously as the young man ahead of him stopped at a beautifully carved oak door.

"You're too kind, but never fear. Da has a private lift in his office that we can take down instead of braving the stares again." The merry green eyes smiled back at him, oblivious of the wince James felt at the mention of a private lift. What he wouldn't give for one in his own home.

Charles didn't seem bothered at all by the silence or the awkward shifting James made at the thought of his own broken down home. Instead he gave the door a firm rap with his knuckles and pushed it open without waiting to be told to enter. James was only trailing along behind his friend as the younger man had wanted him to talk with his Father. William McAllester was one of the few older men that didn't walk through higher society. He let his son control most of their fortune in the horse industry and contented himself to running things behind the scenes. He was an old patriarch, one whom many men spoke of with respect and even a bit of awe. The man had made his family's fortune from scratch and it had become larger and etched out a place even among old money.

"Da', I brought James by to meet you and to bring you last week's sales of the horses." Charles walked so confidently into the room as he spoke, but James was far more hesitant. "And the notes on the new drafter you wanted me to obtain."

The office wasn't truly an office, but a library. It held the scent of old spiced cigars and the sweeter scents of leather that had been recently oiled. Shelf upon shelf of cedar book shelves lined the walls with countless volumes that had been neatly stored away and awaited reading. The only part of the room that made an office was a large desk that took up the space in front of a window where the light was the best. William McAllester sat behind the desk, every inch of him severe looking except for his mild, almost amused eyes. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Charles' father, but the old man still impressed upon him the likeness of a lion. The features almost seemed to echo the statues that riddled the streets of London.

"Ah good." The old man gave James a look before nodding a greeting and taking the file. "I was hoping you'd see about the Percheron. It's about time that you begin to see about bringing horses in yourself rather than count on me to pick them out."

"True, Da, I think I've chosen wisely." Charles perched insolently on the edge of the desk. "The stallion isn't in the best living situation and, truly, it's a shame to see such a magnificent beast unable to be given everything he should have. Poor beast's stall is all but falling apart."

"Mmm" The old man seemed to be barely listening. "I suppose, your notes aren't entirely specific though."

"Don't you trust me, Da?" James looked to see Charles showing a pained look. "James, you'd say I was a good judge of horse flesh, wouldn't you?"

"I'd think so, but honestly don't know the first thing about them. My family has never made a habit of owning them, we prefer to lease them when we have need of them." James didn't let his flush of shame rise high in his face. His family had had to take down the stable last winter for fuel.

"Well, I trust you, but it's always good to keep detailed notes when making a purchase." The older man gave a pointed look before the pale green eyes turned towards James. "Ah, I remember you. I knew your father back before he settled on that out of the way manor of yours."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." James executed a bow. "I've heard great things about you and when you were in Parliament my father was fond of talking about you."

"Ah yes, your father would enjoy that, wouldn't he?" The old man flipped the file closed and chuckled. "Had a bit of a row with him back in the day before I ever made it into Parliament. He always thought my fondness and interest in hypnotism and the obscure aspects of psychology would get me no where. In truth he never approved of any of it, did he?:

"Ah, well, sir. It's not the sort of thing my Father would have enjoyed." James replied honestly.

Charles gripped his arm and gave him a tug. "Oh come now, it's simply marvelous. Da, you'll hypnotize James won't you? It makes everything fit right into perspective and just takes the worries away."

"Now I don't think-" James started to protest as Charles gripped his upper arm and pulled him to a chair.

"Oh come on, Da is amazing at this. I promise, you'll feel as if you haven't got a care in the world." Charles' hands pressed against his shoulders and pushed him into the chair. "As much stress as you have, I'll bet you could use it."

"Now Charles, I don't like show off." William's deep voice sounded more amused then offended. "And he doesn't look as if he really wants to give it a try."

"Oh you will, won't you James? You'll just love it!" Charles' eyes all but danced with enthusiasm and James shifted a bit uncomfortably.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt.." He started. He didn't want to lose Charles as a friend, after all. The young man was one of the few people that didn't make him feel poor.

In the end, being hypnotized was more than just sitting in a chair. William moved over to close the windows of the large window that let the sunlight into the office. Charles spent his time fussing with the position of a couch, chair and a small table that held a candle. The only candle that James had ever seen in the house. All of it made him nervous as they set it up and Charles moved over to one side of the room that was obviously used for storage. There were several trunks and crates lying about. Most of them looked as if they were supposed to be used for travel, others just for storage. Likely it contained some of the more valuable items that William wanted to keep under his eye safe in his office. By the time they were done James was lying on the couch and William had settled down in the chair.

"Now, James. You won't have to actually do anything except listen to my voice and relax. Hypnotism is quite easy when it comes right down to it." The older man gave him a reassuring smile. "Are you ready to begin."

"I.. suppose so." James glanced over at Charles, who had perched on a trunk looking pleased.

"Very good." William picked up the long tapered candle and with a flick of his hand and strike of the match lit it. The brilliant orage-yellow light flickered and danced to life on the wick. "Now I want you to look at this flame. Do not look at anything else in the room, only the flame. I want you to stare at it, lose yourself in it, watch the movements and do not think about them. Only experience them. Only allow them to drag you in deeper."

James tried to shake off his unease as he stared at the flames. The dancing tongues of fire flickered and fluttered in the darkened room. William's voice was deep and seemed to vibrate as he started to speak about the fire. How the fire moved and danced, how supple and graceful it was as the faint air made it move from side to side. The words became deeper as the descriptions went on to describe how his mind should try to mimic the flame, to be limber and malleable. He should give himself over to feel his mind rising and brightening like the flame, only to darken like the air around it. The light created the darkness where it did not touch and he should feel the shadows falling through his mind as he focused on the candle.

Despite himself he felt his body relaxing and his eyes growing heavier. Staring at the candle made the rest of the room go nearly black as he stared into it. His muscles relaxed while the rolling voice continued its calm words. He felt his eyes slipping closed, but didn't fight it. The warm rich voice didn't want him to fight it. They wanted them to close and stay closed. They wanted him to give himself over to the floating feeling that rose up around him. Despite the fact his eyes were closed he felt he could still feel the flame dancing in front of him. He felt he could still see it. And the words drug him down to a darkness filled with calm and his body felt so terribly light.

"A simple life for you. You have always wanted simplicity, to be unable to worry about anything. You want to be cared for and never fret over the lack of money. You want to be given things to show yourself off and to feel valued. You wish to be protected and adored." The words purred into his ears softly and he felt himself agreeing. How nice to be able to be protected and loved and adored! How wonderful it would be.

The words murmured softly about the stress of his old life sliding away. The normal worries that he suffered under started to fade away under the suggestion that he let himself relax into a place where he was cared for. The causes of his worries, concerns and stress were fading away, falling away from and disappearing into a fog that he couldn't reach through. The things that made him upset, worried or even scared were pull away from his mind and hidden. If he tried to reach for it the fog would close around him and leave him hidden. Why should he worry about it? Why should he remember it? He should allow himself to be taken care of instead of taking care of everyone else. He could leave that life behind, leave the worries behind, he only had to trust those who cared for him.

"Open your eyes, James, stand up." The rich voice murmured commandingly. "Go to Charles. He will give you armor against the world and all its stresses. It will protect you. You want to be protected from them. You want to be able to be shielded from the fogged life you want to leave behind. Without it you feel vulnerable, you feel frightened and unsure."

James didn't think twice as he opened his eyes the flickering flame and darkness of the world. He pushed himself up onto his feet and swayed for a moment and William was standing right in front of him. He blinked, but turned his head towards Charles. He'd never felt quite so light, but at the same time he felt as if he were vulnerable. The sense of something looming over him grew and grew. It made him restless and strangely frightened as he drew in a breath and looked around blindly. The room wasn't safe. Nothing was safe. He wanted this peace, he wanted the comfort of it. He needed the comfort of it! He stumbled towards Charles until one hand gripped his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"It's alright, it's alright, lad." Charles murmured. "Take off your clothing now, and we'll protect you."

The voice wasn't as rich as his father's, but just that sense of care behind them and the echo of the commands made him obey. James moved his hands down and pulled off his shirt to lie on the ground. The air was cold and he felt even more exposed, but he still pulled his pants off. He stripped them down and wriggled out of them until he stood in front of Charles nude. He was breathing too fast, too hard, but he couldn't seem to stop it. He stared blankly at the other man and waited to be told what to do. He waited to be allowed to escape the feeling of being exposed.

"Oh James, just as I imagined you.." Charles spoke with a slight breathiness to his voice and the young man's hand rubbed right over his rump. "Now, come here. Come here and we'll get you protected."

The hand on his rump gave him a push towards something grey that was laid out on the ground. It was rubber looking and strangely compacted. He could see a spill of a short tail and a hint of ears on it, obviously it was made to be some sort of animal. He was pushed forward a bit more firmly as he came to the edge of the suit. He didn't fight the press of the hands against him, nor did he fight it when his hands suddenly pressed against something that felt like sleeves. Charles' fingers stroked along his back and caressed over his rump. So dimly he felt as if she should protest such ungentlemanly behavior, but the fog rolled the thought away before he could do anything about it. He stepped forward and felt the cool almost powdery feel the latex on his toes as he stood over the strange pass.

"There we go, now we just have to get it on." Charles crouched down and touched something just along the underside of material.

James nearly bolted the moment the suit roiled beneath him. It twisted and rolled, it bucked and quivered as if it were alive. He could feel the material beneath his hands and feet jerking and flexing until long tendrils reached upwards to twine around his forearms and all the way towards his shoulders. They were trailing up along his legs as well! The seeking tendrils started out thin, but they pulled up the bulk of the outfit as they went so that the sleeves wrapped around his arms and large expanses of the rubbery stuff stretched out along his sides. The tendrils coiled along his back and twisted around his neck loosely while he jerked his head up and tried to stumble back.

It was as if he were being devoured by the material! It felt like smooth taffy as the suit wrapped up around his waist and twisted higher towards his head. The tendrils smoothed down over his cheeks and started to adhere to his skin. He could feel it pushed beneath him until his shaft was wrapped up inside of it as well as his orbs. He cried out and lifted his head, but when he opened his mouth he felt the latex plunging into his mouth and coating over his tongue. His fingers were forced into fists and he started to grow larger. A roll of grey latex spilled up towards his head and swept up over him while he tried to shake it off. The darkness swelled up and coated over his face until he could feel it pressing into his ears, his eyes, everywhere. The heat plunging him into darkness while he screamed out again, but the scream turned into an equine sounding squeal.

"Sleeeeep. Sleep now, James. Sleep and forget." William's rich voice rolled over his mind and drew him down into the darkness. Not even aware of when his body tumbled to the ground. Even after he fell asleep the murmurs continued. Words that sank into his sleeping mind and carved themselves into his heart.

~ ~ * ~ ~

James stood in the stall with a sense of confusion and loss as he looked around the large straw filled box and out over the stable. He had woken up like this, he had woken up in some strange suit that hugged around his body and forced him to all fours. He lifted a forehoof to peer briefly at the large dinner plate sized hoof before thudding it back down again. He didn't know how he'd gotten here or why he was here, he only knew that he had woken up here and watched most of the day go by mutely as people ran back and forth through the stable on errands. All of them ignored his pleas for help or understanding. He couldn't understand his own words, they all came out as if he were truly a horse. And that only confused him more. What was changing his throat.

"There's our fine lad!" A voice called out and the changed stallion lifted his head to see a young man trotting down the walkway with a bright grin on his face. "Didn't mean to leave you, old son, but Da thought it was best you get settled."

James stared at the stranger blankly and the excitement in the vivid green eyes. The face was vaguely familiar, but lost in shadows and fog that he couldn't push past. It was the same fog he experienced whenever he was trying to remember who he was and why he was here. It was the fog that made him frightened and unsure as he couldn't remember why he was here, how he'd gotten here or even where he was from. He almost knew his name, it was James something. But even that was subject to his own doubt and now he couldn't even recognize who it was that seemed to know him. Before he could adjust himself to it a hand snagged the halter hanging from his head and the hand smoothed itself over one of his rubbery cheeks.

"I hold by what I said, he's a new fellow and they can always be a bit touchy." An older gentleman with a fine rich voice murmured from outside the stall. "Not half bad, Charles. Not half bad at all. A good looking drafter if I do say so myself."

"Thanks, Da. I knew the moment I met him that I had to have him. Didn't I, you lovely boy you." The fingers rubbed upwards and James felt the strange sensation of his long tapered ears being rubbed.

"What will you call him? I hope you aren't going to pick out something dreadful. Poor Mickey would have done so much better with a stronger name." The old man leaned over and one of his fingers rubbed against James' nose.

"Well, his formal name is King James' Hope," Charles' fingers rubbed just behind his ears and James froze at the name. His name? His name was not something like that! "So I'm thinking I'll call him King. He is a King you know. And what a handsome King."

James wanted to snap out that he was not King, he was James! A fine English name for all that these men were Welsh! He wanted to, but didn't. He felt a roil of self doubt. How had he known the name James? He didn't know his last name after all. He didn't know anything about the clinging tightness of the suit that held him captive and the strange ability it had to force him on four large legs. The weight of it made it hard to walk and ungainly to even try to run. He had only tried to stand on two legs once and the attempt had sent him tumbling to the ground as his hind legs had given out. It didn't change that he wasn't truly a horse! He was a human being!

"King, eh?" The old man chuckled in amusement. "Well he's yours now and I think that Mickey and he will make a fine team once you train him up."

"Oh they will, Da!" Charles' hand moved down to rub and play over his thick rubbery lips. "I'm going to take him out to see his moves before it gets too late, I think. From what I saw he'll be a sweet mover with a bit of training."

"Very well, but don't work him out too long. I'd like you to take him out to see Mickey and see how they behave together. It'll be easier if they're able to behave as a team." The old man patted one of James' cheeks and chuckled.

The old man left without another word, leaving him with the familiar stranger. He felt the fingers stroking right along the edges of his cheek just beneath the halter. What were they talking about? He flattened his ears down against his head and shivered. The suit seemed to tense around him uncomfortably until he realized he was able to shiver his skin. He wasn't King. He wasn't King nor was he a horse! He held that thought to himself as his halter was tugged and he was pulled forward one large hoof at a time from the stall. As they reached the hall a heavy lead was fastened beneath his chin. His legs were clumsy and it took all of his focus just to move one large heavy foot at a time.

Charles led him along the line of stalls and towards the large door that let in a stream of light from the outside pastures. As he walked down the rows he found the scents started to sharpen. There was the scent of hay and wood, the scent of leather and Charles, but there was also a sharper hotter scent. He wrinkled his lips back at the aggressive musk that assaulted him. It was harsh and made him feel a flash of raw anger that rose up in his chest and set his ears back against his head. He jerked his head up until the lead pulled the halter down tight along the ridge of his muzzle and behind his head. The man who held the lead made a few soothing sounds, but the sounds were lost when a squeal erupted from the stall just ahead of them.

A large grey head strained over the edge of door as the stallion screamed at him and peeled back rubbery lips to show flat teeth. James flashed the whites of his eyes as he twisted his head a little to watch the stranger who screamed again and slammed in against the door. The stallion's ears were pulled flat back as he tried to hit against the door to force it open. The angry scent grew and made James shake his head rapidly. His heart was hammering against his chest as every muscle went tense. He clenched his fingers in their fisted prison and fought the urge to scream back at the other male. It was a base and primitive desire that made it hard to think.

"Mickey! Down Mickey!" Charles' voice came from a distance. "Easy on, we're going out. Easy on!"

The lead pulled harder around his head as James glared at the stallion. He locked his legs in place as he fought against the pressure. He didn't want to walk away! He didn't want to back down to another stallion! The warmth of his anger rose up and he let out a rumbling noise before whinnying back at Mickey. He stomped a hoof and set himself up to charge the grey stallion to try and drive him away. Or at least that was his intent. A sudden CRACK against his haunches made him squeal in shock and start forward. Charles yanked the lead hard enough it nearly bruised his nose and he stumbled through the door way to the angry squeals behind him.

"Didn't think he'd be that upset." Charles moved a hand up to cup under James' jaw. "Now settle down, old son. He won't bother you. You'll have to become good friends, you know."

James glared at the young man and snorted hotly to himself. He didn't want to be good friends with anyone. He wanted to be set free! He didn't deserve to be caught here. He should be walking on two legs and not led around like some sort of trained animal. The entire situation stung his pride, but for some reason he couldn't resist when the lead was tugged. The moment the lad took charge of him he started to obey, some part of him wanted to obey. It was a blow, but he still did it. He didn't know what else to do, he couldn't make himself do anything else. He was led past the side of the barn and towards a set of posts with rings hanging on either side.

He was allowed to stop between them and a lead moved up to snap against the other side of his cheek band, while the lead that had been used was threaded through the ring. He tried to jerk his head up, but he couldn't get it more than an inch before he was forced to drop it back down to be on level with his chest. He tilted his head as much as he could to see the lad holding a length of rope in his arm. One end of the rope spread out into two lines and padded cuffs hung from them, the other part became one long loop. For the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was. He'd never been around horses more than casually and it certainly didn't appear to be any sort of stirrup he was used to.

"Now behave yourself. Boys always like to know who herd stallion is, you know." Charles spoke as he wrapped the rope over James' broad neck. "We'll just have to make sure that we drive it home to both of you at the beginning instead of it coming to blows. It's better for us to control the situation then let you two pound each other out in the pasture."

James glared at the idea that he couldn't control his temper. He wasn't a horse. He was a human! He snorted hotly as the rope was wrapped around his neck and trailed down along his chest. It was a strangely surreal sensation to feel his chest not only in front of him, but under him as well. The suit seemed to extend to his senses in such a unique way that at times he felt as if he were going mad. He had no idea how someone had come up with a set up like this, but somehow they had. It overran all of his senses completely and left him struggling to recall even what his hands looked like. Everything before the time of his waking was fogged over. No matter how hard he tried to go after it, the fog only grew until what small snippets he thought he recalled were swallowed down.

His thoughts were broken by the feel of the rope running along the underbelly before something thick and broad snapped around his ankle. He tried to strain his head about to see what was happening, but the leads refused to let him. The buckles were fastened down and the restraint that he had seen was firmly locked in place before the second one was worked around his other ankle. He startled slightly and lifted a hind leg up and was able to raise it all the way up to his belly without any harm except for tugging a bit at the other leg. He gave an experimental kick backwards, but he barely got a few inches back before the rope around his neck drew him up short.

"Sorry, fella. We have to use hobbles though." Charles sounded apologetic and a hand brushed against his haunch lightly. "Now hold still, we just have to trick Mickey a bit. Big fella never really looks before he leaps anyway."

James whickered nervously as he felt a hand rolling up along his tail. He was able to lift his head high enough to see that his tail hairs were being gathered up along his docked tail. They were wrapped around it in a loose manner before Charles dug around into a pocket to pull out a bundle of waxed paper. The young man had barely broken the seal when a sweet alluring scent flooded James' muzzle. He twitched his lips at it and sucked in a breath. It was as lovely and sensual as the harsh musk had been aggressive and aggravating. He drew in a great lungful and peeled his upper lip back to enjoy the scent. He didn't really even pay attention as a bandana was tied off around where his hairs had been gathered up. His powerful grey hind quarters left bare save for his short stubby tail as it twitched back and forth.

He was somewhat aware of Charles leaving, but the scent kept his attention as he held his head up as high as he could get it to drag in the scents. The hot heavenly scents that made his heart start to pound faster and parts of him start to react. One part in particular shocked him as he felt himself relaxing before he realized that his heavy mottled girth was starting to ooze out towards the ground. The swollen glans dragging it down towards the ground. The stallion felt a moment of shame at his own response, he even tried to pull it back in, but the hot scent wouldn't let him relax. It made him think of nothing more than the most primal thoughts that had his hooves thudding and hitting against the ground as he tried to prance. The hobbles made it awkward, but still he tried. He tried until he heard a whistling whinny and something crashed against his haunches.

James immediately kicked out behind him and nearly took himself to the ground as the hobbles snapped into place. He threw his head back as the sweet alluring scent was overridden by the hot thick musk of stallion on the air. That angry scent blended together as a pair of flat teeth nipped against his haunches before breath puffed against him. He twisted his head to see Mickey snuffling busily at his hind quarters with a glazed look in his eyes as he sucked in the same scent that James HAD been enjoying. His head was held with a chain running beneath the nose band and Charles standing quite close as the big stallion bit him again. James tried to kick back, but the hobbles didn't let him do more than twitch his leg into the air. It was infuriating.

"C'mon Mickey, don't bite on poor King." Charles used a soothing voice and flicked the lead. "Let's go, old man. You know what you're doing, eh?"

The stallion all but whickered an agreement, but to James' horror what he was to do had nothing to do with leaving him alone. The stallion suddenly heaved up and James had to lock his legs as the heavy weight hit against his rubbery back. He heard a faint squeaking sound of latex on latex, and then it hit him. Mickey was really a human too! The stallion wasn't a horse at all, but someone who had been forced into a change! It made him appear to be a horse. James tried to tilt his head to catch the other trapped person's eyes, but only saw the blank look of a dumb beast as the large forelegs wrapped round his hips. The blunt muzzle shoved forward and James tried to yank his head away, but Mickey darted his head down to grip right at the base of his neck. The heavy thud of something smacked right against his inside thighs.

James realized what it was the moment he felt a dribbling of something hot and sticky rolling down his inner hind leg. His ears moved down flat against his head as the cock rubbed up higher. He tried to kick out at Mickey, but it only made the rope around his neck tighten up. He tried to squeal out a protest, but the stallion didn't seem to care. The teeth gripped down against his rubbery neck as the powerful haunches tried to roll forward. The thickened cock tip pushed hard up against his balls and left a sticky trail before it was moved upwards mid thrust. The blunt glans slipped up and shoved against his exposed pucker despite his attention to clamp his bobbed tail over himself.

"Easy, Mickey, there we go, there we go." Charles' voice gave him a moment to brace, but it didn't help.

James' eyes bulged as the cock tip suddenly shoved forward hard enough that his entire body strained forward. The lead ropes strained as his chin was forced down against his broad chest and the cock strained him open wider and wider. The walls being painfully forced apart as a hot drool of precum erupted inside of him. His hind legs spread apart as he squealed out roughly. Mickey seemed entirely oblivious to his protests as the large stallion forced and inched the leathery girth in inch by slow inch. The tip plunged in deep past his quivering walls while he clenched down and tried to stop it. The shock of pain eased only the lubricating precum that spilled out.

It was beyond humiliating, it was horrifying to feel the rubbery chest shoved against his back and heard the short grunt before the stallion pulled backwards. James squealed out as the blunt tip pulled backwards only a few inches before the stallion lunged forward again. The powerful haunches forced him deeper inside of the clutching passage while James struggled to keep his hooves under him. He had forgotten the scent of the mare, forgotten his reaction to it, forgot everything except the piercing plunge of dark shaft working its way deeper inside of him. His body trembled and struggled to hold still as the powerful forelegs curled against his haunches and he felt the plate sized hooves tucking themselves up against his under belly.

"Easy, easy King. There's a good fellow.. good boy." The soft murmured words pierced into his confused mind as Charles moved to his head and held the underside of his halter.

James nearly snapped at the hand, but the bandanna that had been wrapped around his tail was pressed against his muzzle. The wild harsh scents of the stallion on his back were lost under the heated scent that had aroused him earlier. His nostrils spread wide and sucked in the scent of it, the hot sweet lovely scent that filled his mind with a fog and made his heart start to pound faster. It was nothing like the scent of a stallion, nothing like the scent of anything except pure desire. He whickered out against the bandanna and then grunted as the powerful grey hips slapped up against his own. A hefty rubbery set of orbs clapped right up against his own and the sheath bunged up against his violated anal ring. Not even that stirred him past the lusts that were rising inside of him by that scent.

His stomach flexed until he felt his cock slap against his belly. The sensation was utterly foreign, but at the moment it didn't matter. All that mattered was that scent flooding each and every breath he took. He pushed his nose into it and felt hands tying it off on his halter so that it hung down over his nose. He curled his upper lip back to try and get more of the scent and ignored the human walking away. He wanted more of it! He wanted all of it. Even the too thick shaft plunging into his slickened passage and the wet sound of thick goopy precum being forced out around it didn't matter. He arched his back and tried to thrust against his belly as his mind fogged over in primal lust. King didn't care. He didn't care about anything but need.

Something grabbed the head of his cock and he squealed out and gave a frantic thrust forward. His back jerked and bucked under Mickey as the stallion bit his neck harder to try and hold him still. The powerful drafter's hips pulled back until he could feel the thick glans tug past a sensitive part inside of him before plunging inwards. Two hands wrapped around King's cock and gave it a pull before stroking upwards. They were like heaven! They massaged and pulled up some of the dribbling precum to work over him before starting to slowly rub up and down his girth. The squeezing milking movements made him lose control as he set his hips forward and tried to thrust into them. The stallion on his back started to hammer faster as they built up a rhythm.

The thick shaft kept jabbing in hard and deep, but each thrust forward pushed him into the warm clutching grip of the human beneath him. King clenched his anal passage tightly around Mickey, he squeezed and pulled each time it glided through him and he felt the medial ring stroke and caressing. His hide gleamed with a hint of sweat while he thrust harder against the hands beneath him. He forgot about trying to fight it, forgot the humiliation, that scent! That beautiful scent! He wanted it, all of it! He squealed and started to thrust harder in the air, only aided by the pounding massive hips of the stud on his back.

Mickey's tip started to spread wider so that the stallion released his neck and rested his muzzle against King's neck. The hot panting breath puffed against him as the flare struggled the plunge in all the way at each and every thrust. The sensations only grew more intense as King rumbled and then whickered out. The hands wrapped themselves right around his cock tip and massaged gently, the thick dollops of precum leaking out of him gathered up and rubbed over the swollen glans. He felt his balls pulling up as Mickey hammered into him with harsh short strokes. The medial ring plucked and pulled through him until he couldn't hold back. He threw his head back and let out an equine squeal of pleasure as his balls pulled up tight and his cock tip flared open.

The hot stream of cum splattered against his legs and he heard Charles let out a sound of surprise. He didn't care, he could feel his girth flexing and pulsing as jet after thick virile jet splattered against the ground and his hooves. He wanted this! He could almost hear the voice in his mind telling him how much he longed to be free of all restraint. He clenched his silken passage around Mickey's cock as the large stud gave a final push forward and went still. The hot breath puffed against his neck before he felt the pulses rippling along the cock. The thick ribbons of cum erupted out of the tip and flooded his bowels. All he could do was squeeze and clench about him, milking and pulling it deeper as his own cock drooled out the last of his seed. His body shaking and trembling in the aftermath as dribbles of cum oozed out around his violated tailhole. The thick pearly drops rolled down the back of his legs and King dropped his head down.

I.. I'm not a horse. Not a horse... _ He forced the thought into his pleasure fogged mind, drove it into it. He tried to remember it as the large grey stud pulled back from him and stepped away. The forehooves slipped over his rump before the softened cock popped free and James winced at the splatter of cum that spilled out of his still spread tailhole. _I'm a man!!!I

_ _

~ ~ * ~ ~

"Come on, old son. Hope you had a good nights sleep." The cheerful voice startled him awake from where he slept in the corner. He opened an eye to see Charles grinning at him. "Never met a horse that acted so much like a mare. Took me all night to clean you both up."

James didn't want to remember being cleaned. He didn't even want to think about the hand that had plunged into his sheath and dragged his cock out to scrub. Or the way he'd had his under tail scrubbed and water forced into him. It was humiliating. Almost as humiliating as having to sleep on his feet or go to the bathroom in his stall. Everything he had ever known and everything he had believed he should have was gone. Not that he knew what he had known. All he knew was the fog that persisted in clouding his thoughts. It coated them until he felt lost and confused. The only time he felt as if he was possibly himself was in dreams. And even the dreams had faded away.

"Let's go, we're going to get you a good work out." He dully turned his head as a lead clipped onto his halter. A very long lead! "Good boy, King. Such a lovely fellow. Such a good boy."

The last words were almost a croon that made him wince, but he simply sighed when his halter was tugged towards the opening of his stall door. What humiliations could possibly be waiting for him today? He passed by Mickey's stall and to his horror the big stallion had his ears up and whickered a greeting. There was a certain eagerness that made James flinch and pull forward to get by him. He followed as Charles led him out and into a round paddock that had sand thrown down instead of dust. The ring was fenced in with newly white washed wood and smelled sharply of the male they had just passed in the barn. The scent just reminded him of the fact he still half smelled like Mickey from being mounted.

"There we go, off you go you great beast!" Charles let the length of the lead, all save the end drop to the ground and clapped him on the haunch.

James startled forward and glared at the touch and went a few feet. Charles didn't seem to care that he hadn't gone far, the young man only plucked up a long carriage whip and walked past him towards the center of the ring. James flicked his ears up in confusion as the young man stopped and turned around to regard him. What on earth did the lad want? He wasn't about to go follow him like some sort of overgrown dog and he certainly wasn't going near him if the boy was carrying a whip. He glared at Charles and then turned his back to the lad in disdain.

James squealed out as the moment he turned his haunches the crack of a whip snapped at his legs. He bolted forward as another crack soon followed the first and he lunged as far away as he could get. The lead drew taut before he could get far enough away to evade it, so he turned and bolted in a circle to get away. His heavy hooves made him stumble and falter into a trot so he didn't go head over heels and he got half way across the circle before he stopped and snorted angrily at Charles. He had barely stopped for a second and the whip cracked down again. The sound snapped just behind him and he imagined he could feel the wind from the end of the whip against his hind legs.

He trotted forward unsteadily and to his horror the lad holding the lead turned his body to follow the circle. The hand with the hip held it out and just behind. James tossed his head up to see the long edge of it just behind the curve of his haunches in silent threat. Charles wanted him to trot in a circle? The confusion didn't ease as he kept up the slow trot in a full circle, each movement carefully timed as his hooves hit the ground and raised up puffs of dust beneath him. It was a pointless and stupid activity and he had no idea why the lad wanted him to do it. James made only a handful of circuits before he decided that he had had enough and stopped with a blowing snort.

"Tch tch, walk on, King!" Charles clucked out and the whip snapped down.

The crack sounded even louder and he lifted his hooves in a heavy trot and tried to throw his head up indignantly at how he was being treated. "Let's see what you have, boyo."

The whip cracked again and the end of the lash briefly kissed against his tail. He whickered out and bolted forward into a canter that jarred his entire body, but at least it the whip didn't strike again. The canter took all of his control as his large hooves thudded against the ground over and over again. It was hard work to keep them all working properly and he found himself concentrating more on how his hooves were hitting the ground then Charles who continued to turn in a circle to follow his movements. He didn't want to admit it, but it was almost relaxing to hear the three beats of his hooves against the ground and feel the muscles of the powerful drafter body ripple and flex. He picked his hooves up high and began to put himself into the movements as he tried to mimic the few times he'd seen a horse going at a smart canter.

Charles called out praise from the center, the horribly condescending words almost crooning his name, but there was approval there. The approval made James arch his neck a bit. Some part of him bathed in being told he was doing a good job. It was like water hitting the parched ground and he strove to speed himself up a touch. The lad seemed to notice that he was trying himself out because the whip cracked down in a sharp double crack. He snorted, but this time didn't startle, but stretched himself out in response. His body stretched out and he found his circle going larger as more of the lead was freed from the young man holding it.

_I can fly! _ He whickered out the words as well as thought them.

His massive form launched forward with a great bunching of his muscles as his legs spread out and then gathered together beneath him. Each stride he would gloriously lift all four hooves off the ground for a bare breath of time before stretching himself out again in great strides. His muscles were straining and bunching over him, but he ran! He ran with a speed that dizzied him and he heard Charles let out a great whoop of joy in his approval. He trumpeted out his own joy as he threw himself into the heady speed and the feel of a powerful body responding to each and every stride. The dust rose up behind him in great clouds until at times he was running through it. He never knew such speed, such power, such grace!

The world is full of horrible things. So many worries and woes, angers and embarrassments, but not for you. Not when you feel the wind in your mane and feel your body answering your every command. You were born for flight! You were born to be majestic and noble! Oh my fine fellow, you were born for THIS!

The strange words echoed in his head, they rolled around him as a remembered voice that made his great heart surge in his chest. He didn't question it. He didn't care about it. He was suddenly pounding over the earth in a run that dizzied him as the world spun by him and the only constant was the face of the young man in the circle. The whip didn't crack or admonish him, but the sound of joy in his words only fueled King as he gave himself into the movements. His hind quarters would kick off the ground each time his legs bunched beneath him and throw him forward. He stretched out his forelegs until he felt one touch the earth again and then the other before he was powering over them and lifted off the earth once again.

His heart beat pounded in his ears and his great nostrils spread open wide to suck in each breath as he ran. This was life! This was pure unencumbered joy where he was everything he was supposed to be. The wind whipped through his mane and even the feel the sweat glossing his rubbery hide didn't mar his sense of wonder as the remembered voice urged him to give him. It urged him to become what he was supposed to be. To remake himself to the suit and the suit to him! He was the horse, the runner, the powerful creature only tamed by the competent touch of his beloved owners. He trumpeted out again as a wild whoop and tug of his lead pulled him up short.

He let the tug slow him down, his head thrown up high as he high stepped into something slower and turned his head to the young lad's laughing place. The joy in the eyes matched his own as he trotted forward and came to a shivering halt. His mind felt as light as his body had been as a gentle hand stroked over his nose and along his cheek. The gentle whispered words more a caress then real words as they smoothed through his mane and rubbed up along his ears. King's eyes glazed slightly and he leaned into them. Some part of him tried to struggle towards the surface, but the pounding of his heart and his lingering joy of his run staved it off. Oh he was free! So very very free!! He was free and everything he was meant to be.

"That's my lovely lad." The voice whispered in his ear. "A beautiful wonderful gelding to pair with our Mickey. The best horses in the world."

Yes, he was a beautiful gelding. The best horse in the world. He leaned into the caresses and ignored the stab of fear that spiked inside of him. What did he have to fear when he was free?

~ ~ * ~ ~

The collar bit against his neck as King shoved his weight forward and felt Mickey doing the same as they stepped forward against the cart. The heavy load of grain and hay creaked along behind them as the first pull had been the hardest as always, but once it was moving they settled into a matched gait that made it sound as if one horse pulled instead of two. He could feel the warmth of the other grey body close against his own as the familiar creak of leather and the sound of rolling wheels behind them mingled with the voices of their masters behind them. The big grey gelding chewed against the bit and swiveled his ears back to them as they started down the road to home with their days load. He knew that he would only have to pull his fair share, Mickey always put his heart into their hauling.

"We have enough grain, it's the hay we needed more of, Da." He twitched his ears a bit as his Master spoke. The older man was his master too, but Charles. Charles was THE Master.

He served the younger man with all his heart and never stopped loving to see the young man running into his paddock. He knew that Mickey would often bite him and herd him about when King got too much affection, but it was worth it for the gentle hands and treats. Mickey belonged to the old man, it was Charles that was King's and King's alone. Today Charles had braided up his mane into a ridge of bright colors and had taken extra time to even braid up his tail with bits of silk ribbons. He felt so terribly handsome in it and had luxuriated in the calming strokes of the brush. Afterwards the Master had done more than just groom and the thought of the intimate caresses made him flex his pucker slightly. Oh he loved his Master.

He enjoyed Mickey too, but the big stallion was bossy and hard to get along with. The gelding preferred to graze and be left alone, but the big stud would get worked up and he'd be forced to flip his tail up. The Master had taught him how to present himself to the stallion and he even enjoyed it a bit, but it wasn't like the young man's gentle touch. Mickey was forceful and big, so that the gelding would walk a bit awkwardly the rest of the day. But when he was messy the Master would come and groom him for such a long time it was almost worth playing the mare for his paddock-mate.

"The hay will be better next year. Charles, watch King, he's straying a bit." The old man spoke and King snorted as he felt the hand lightly tug against the bit. Sometimes he could almost understand their words, but he didn't care to listen that closely. It was the sound that was important.

"Straight on, King." The Master called out, but even that voice held affection that made him arch his neck.

"You are spoiling that gelding." The old man sounded disapproving. "Mickey is getting harder to manage you know."

"I know, but King is a sweet heart." The Master's voice came with a chuckle. "Maybe you should geld Mickey as well. It's not that terribly hard. The suits do most of the work. Poor King is getting used like a mare most days anymore and eventually Mickey is going to hurt him."

"Mmm.." The old man sounded annoyed and King felt Mickey pulling ahead faster so he had to follow suit. Mickey was always trying to impress the old man. "How'd it work out anyway? Didn't really ask the specifics at the time since you'd planned for it."

"It was easy, Da. I just kept brushing and lunging him and used the term gelding more often. It was more the power of suggestion then your hypnosis. One day I went to his stall and he was smooth between the legs." King pricked his ears at the Master's pride and then shivered when the edge of the whip brushed him beneath his braided tail. "The suits are controlled by their thoughts, after all. You convince them that their form is a horse and they're a horse. I convinced him he was a gelding and he became a gelding."

"I'll put some thought into it. We're going to be selling off a few of his mares and then he'll only get worse." The old man's voice was a bit amused. "You certainly turned King into a prize. Kip just offered me a thousand pounds if I'd sell him."

"I'm not selling King! He was the first horse I picked out and besides, I can always arrange to have another trained up for Kip if he really wants one." King crested his neck as he heard the Master's voice ring with pride and possessiveness. "I was thinking perhaps of trying for a nice warm blood next to use as a hunter."

The road twisted in front of them and King turned his head so that he could glance at Mickey past his blinders. The big stallion was surging forward so that he had to nearly trot to keep pace, the rubbery grey hide was marked with the black bridle and collar and the large face was determined. With a snort of amusement King picked up his pace as well and settled into the familiar trail home. Even with the heavy harness and collar about his neck, he still reveled in the movement of his body and the feel of his muscles responding to the demands it took to haul the cart.

Freedom is found beneath the harness and with your burdens gone. Freedom is beloved forever. The words seemed to echo from another time as he pricked his ears forward. Almost home.