Satan's Promise

Story by Kalan on SoFurry

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Enjoy my stories? Want to see some that are unreleased? Check out Dark Desires and Moon Cursed. Two collections of erotic stories that explore the dark, decadent and ever changing world .http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Kalan+Anarahttp://www.lulu.com/shop/search.ep?type=&keyWords=Kalan+Anara&x=0&y=0&sitesearch=lulu.com&q=

For a more serious book, experience the Dragon's Storm Trilogy. Where a mage's transformation leads to war, love, fear and deception.http://www.thedragonsstorm.com/#/trilogy


Edward leaned over the edge of a weathered grey fence line and stared at the field that was filled with grass nearly up to his knees. The over grown state of the pasture was like most of his property, untended, nearly unused and aging rapidly as he tried his best just to keep up with the minor repairs, let alone the major ones that he was putting off until he was making more money. The farm house was in dire need of being reshingled and most of the rooms had bad insulation which made them either stiflingly hot or freezing cold. He needed to do so much and there was an ever growing list that he added to and most of them were on the list of "When funds are available" so he just tried to struggle on. This year had been harder than most, but that was because he'd finally given in to the urge to fill the stable with his own horse.

I guess I get what I pay for.. His eyes were drawn to the dark grey horse that was grazing through the long grass.

He'd always wanted a horse, he'd bought the farm because it had the pasture and barn for one. His first repairs had been to the stall and hay loft. He'd been so excited to get his own horse and even more excited when he'd found a full stallion within his budget. But, like the house, it wasn't what he had imagined it would be. Hercules was a stallion, yes, but he wasn't the glossy proud looking horse that he had dreamed about. The big grey stallion was a Percheron with feathered legs and a rough looking coat no matter how often he brushed it. He was solid and quite impressive when it came to pulling a cart, but horrible to ride. The big drafter had a gait that rattled Edwards teeth and left him sore if he rode for more than half an hour or so.

He'd wanted one of the horses that he'd grown up with. His parents had owned a modest farm with proud warm bloods that had been beautiful hunters and sweet movers. He had been spoiled by riding the high bred creatures and showing them. He still had a room full of trophies and ribbons that he'd won over the years. He missed them. He missed his horses, he missed his parent's farm, he missed showing horses. He missed everything about it. The economy had taken a down turn and that was the end of that. His parents had had to sell their home, the horses, all of it. It still made his stomach ache with the loss of the things he'd loved. This was supposed to be the start of his life on his own farm, but it wasn't turning out the way he thought it would.

"I just want to have what I had as a kid. Chester, Walker, Jannie.. " He sighed as the names brought to mind the horses that had cost nearly as much as his house. "I can't have a real farm until I bring in money to fix this place up. And I can't fix this place up until I have money."

He mulled over the problem that had tormented him since he'd first gotten this place. He needed a horse, a real horse that could be used in shows and to be put to stud or bred for foals. He needed prize money, he needed to start bringing in more income then his job was offering him. And that wasn't going to happen unless he had enough money to buy a champion. As he leaned against the fence and watched the blocky rough drafter grazing he let out a sigh.

"I'd give anything to own a champion again. I'd pay any price if I had it to give. Just to see a champion give my farm a name, to give this place a name.." He rested his chin on the backs of his hands as he spoke.

Edward didn't glance down at the ground as he watched the large stallion moving through the tall grasses. He didn't see the twisting shadows that curled while the world around him seemed to let out a sigh. He stood up with a slight jerk at a cold flicker of air trailed down his spine even through the unusually warm autumn night. The wind carried his words away to those that would listen.

~ ~ * ~ ~

"Wake up. Wake up... I know you're in there.." A hand patted Edward's cheek firmly, almost slapping while he struggled to come awake.

He surged up as suddenly the hand was replaced with cold water splashing over him. He struggled upwards while he felt something scratching rubbing against his side and brushing against his arms as he pushed his legs under him. The moment he did he nearly fell flat on his face as he reared upwards too swiftly. He felt dizzy and two hands gripped his shoulders and shoved him down so that he stood on all fours. He cracked his eyes open and stared blearily at the golden straw and the musty smell that filled his nose. His hands were pressed into the hay, but they were wrong. There was something off about them. He lifted a hand upwards and stared at it trying to figure out what was wrong. The color was wrong, the shape. He squinted his eyes and tried to figure out what he was looking at. Why wasn't his mind working properly? He felt slow and stupid, unable to grasp at any clear thoughts.

"There we go, all awake.." A voice murmured and the hands on his shoulders gave a little squeeze. "Just relax, don't get all upset too quick."

The words didn't help him. He lifted his hand up higher and it bent wrong at the wrist, the hand was wrong. His mind stirred slowly and started to make sense as he stared at a smooth dark hoof at the end of his wrist. It was fringed with an edge of fur that ran all the way towards the wrist. Dark and glossy black. The hooves themselves were well formed, solid and curved with a smooth rounded edge. For a wildly hopeful minute he thought that the hooves were some sort of glove or trick, but it was quickly dashed he tried to move his fingers. He couldn't feel them. He couldn't feel them balled up or hidden or contained in the glove. But he could feel the weight and heft of the hoof, and when he dropped it back down he faintly felt the pressure of it being securely pressed against the ground. He didn't feel anything leather or soft wrapped around his hand. His hand simply didn't exist.

"The fuck!" He tried to cry out the words as he stumbled backwards, but only a shrill squeal escaped his lips. His legs tripped over themselves as he moved, and he nearly went flat down on the ground again.

He twisted his body to see the pale curve of his own naked shoulder. His upper arms were the same, even his chest was the same, but the further back he look, the more strange his body seemed to be. His ass cheeks were about the same, he could see the pale rise of his hip, but from there the pale skin disappeared under a flat glossy flow of fur. It was smooth and gleaming, like the hide of a horse and it covered his upper legs as the shape of them changed. The bone and muscle flowed so that they looked smoother and strangely dainty. The knee was bent wrong and the lower leg was at a strange angle. He let out a yelping cry and clattered backwards on four hooves. Four hooves. His feet no longer existed, instead a set of black hooves and legs met his eyes. As perfectly proportioned as any horses might be.

"I see that you're distressed." The voice murmured again and Edward turned his head as if he were in a horror movie.

He expected to see a monster, but when he faced the voice he found himself staring into a human face. A familiar human face. His narrow chin and high cheek bones looked back at him while the eyes were the same warm honey brown. His hair spilled carelessly over the forehead and a smile curled the red lips. He stared back at himself, but it was a him with a faintly superior look on his face. It was a look Edward had never worn. He backed away with his nostrils flaring and heard his hooves scuffling through the hay as his eyes bulged.

"Ah and confused." He watched himself shake his head. It was disorienting to see. "Mmm do stop moving about, your legs are brand new after all and I'd hate for you to damage them."

The man who looked like him leaned back so his back rested against the stall door and then he settled down in the clean hay. The stranger was wearing a loose blouse and a pair of tight riding pants tucked into highly polished boots. It was a familiar out, and it should be! It was the outfit he wore when he used to train his horses back before his parents had been forced to sell them. Outrage welled up in him and he opened his mouth to demand an answer, but a squeal was the only thing that came free. He bucked and stamped a hoof down against the ground as he gave himself a shake from nose to tail. Tail? TAIL?! He froze and turned his head slowly to see a thick black tail flagging up along his ass. It had been hidden when it was laying flat, but now he saw the glossy strands brushing against his changed legs.

"You made a wish, did you not? That you would given anything to be a success again, to know the joy of having a prize animal in your stable?" The strange almost purred the words as he spoke. "One shouldn't make such statements when the world has come so closely to my world. We listen, we wait, we watch. The moment you spoke those words you opened yourself to this."

Edward glared and let out a rough squealing cry. He hadn't meant those words, it was a way of speaking. It was a common saying! As well to take everyone's words at face value!

"Oh come now, you were burning with envy and desire. Your sins were sweet to the tongue and opened you to me. I can't work with a clean and innocent soul, but one who indulges in the seven deadly sins? Oh yes, those are mine by right. So I will give you what you wished. I will give you a champion that will give your farm a name that will be known by everyone in the equine world. They will look upon this place a gleaming jewel with a horse of such breeding and talent that his name will be placed down in the history books. A name spoken along with Man o' Wars and Secretariat's." The stranger rubbed his fingers together and gave a slow smile. "But I cannot make such a wish come true out of thin air. I can modify and I can change, but I cannot create. It's a curse of my kind and one that I find quite limiting, but we all have our woes and sad stories."

Edward felt his stomach turning. The first words made the fear grow while he fought to keep his eyes on the stranger who wore his face. What was this creature? What did he want with him? He hadn't meant it!

"So, my lad, you will be elevated to everything your heart could wish. I've already started the change, you can feel it can't you? See it?" The stranger flicked his fingers a little bit. "When I'm done with you, you will be a hunter of such grace and power that men will pay fortunes to endorse you and empty their pockets to be granted a foal from your line. I will speak bluntly this once, because I will not be misunderstood." The man stopped and gave him a long look. "The days are closing in rapidly to All Hallow's Eve and the rules of my sort ordain that you be given a choice. I will put you through a trial. If you retain who and what you are, if you do not give in, then Halloween will see you human again. But.." A finger lifted. "If you fail in my tests and trials. If you cannot keep yourself from dissolving further into the mind of an animal.... You will be my prize, my champion, and you will become the horse in truth. And there will be no hope of salvation. Refuse or to fight from participating in my little... test will not win you your humanity back."

Edward started to shake. A bone deep tremble that made him feel the tail trembling along the backs of his legs as he listened to the words. A horse, stuck as a horse forever? It was too horrible to imagine, but this man seemed perfectly willing to allow him a chance to be free. Only that hope kept him from giving into the urge to panic. All he had to do was retain a human mind and keep himself from becoming a horse. He didn't know what this creature was or why it was here, but that meant he had three days to prove himself still a man and leave this all behind. As the thoughts rolled through his mind he felt the eyes, his eyes, watching him. The familiar features peering at him until he licked his lips and nodded his head in agreement.

"Excellent! We shall begin this afternoon!" The stranger pushed up onto his feet and peered down at him with intent eyes. "And you may call me Scratch." A slow smile curled the edges of the red lips. "Or think of me as Scratch. Everyone else will only know me as you. Edward. Not that that name will be yours to claim anymore."

Edward watched the man walk towards the stable door and tried not to give into the urge to cower in the corner. The eyes gleamed with a strange fire just behind the brown color that made him want to flee fast and far. How had he let himself get into this mess?

~ ~ * ~ ~

The afternoon came and with it the appearance of Scratch. The man appeared soundlessly with the same riding clothes on and a strange leather halter in one hand. The halter wasn't like anything he had ever seen. It was buckles the way it should be behind the head and straps, but the front of it was all wrong. It gleamed a strange mingling of black and bright reddish-brown and was made to resemble the sweep of a horse's muzzle. The lips were soft looking and had a strange gleam to it as if the material were some form of latex of vinyl. The muzzle had a band around it like a halter and reached all the way up to form a horse mask. It was well done with eye holes set to either side and even a pair of tapered ears. It was creepy looking and terrifying, especially as Scratch crouched down and pushed it over his head.

He nearly struggled against it. He even half reared up on his strange haunches, but he forced himself to hold still. He didn't want to lose his humanity by fighting the trial, but at the same time it was horribly humiliating to feel the straps being buckled onto him. The mask proved to be latex and clung to his cheeks and forehead. His breath hit the hollow muzzle so that each puff made the mask seem hotter while it was secured onto him. He could see, but his view was limited to the eye holes so he had a hard time looking at the ground without tilting his head to stare down at his hooves. The man's fingers were light as they finished fastening a buckle beneath his head and stood up.

"There's a fine fellow." Scratch praised in a sing song voice. "Today we're going to get you used to those legs. You're as clumsy as a foal and that won't do. You need to move gracefully and smoothly."

Edward glared up at him, but as the lead was tugged the mask shifted on his face. His cheeks flared red, but he moved forward as he was led out of the stables. His hooves clattered beneath him on the concrete while he tried to tilt his head to see the ground beneath him. The halter and lead prevented him from doing that, instead he had to trust to Scratch's guiding pull to lead him over the concrete without tripping up on anything. It made him dependent on the touches and anger rolled in his belly as he was pulled out of the doors. The only thing that made it possible to push away the anger was the fact he could feel his underbelly and what he had found there. He'd found one other part of his anatomy that had changed with the rest of him.

His cock was no longer a soft pink girth that hung over his balls, it was gone. It had been replaced by a heavy leathery looking sheath that hugged along his belly and his orbs had grown larger and more swollen so they swayed between his legs. He could feel the sheath swaying back and forth with the tip of him exposed so that it jiggled slightly. He couldn't pull the tip in any further, he didn't even know how to control the damn thing. It was a loss of his humanity that was more frightening then just his hands and feet. The sensation of it moving sickened him while he was led to the side of the barn and the area that he had meant to turn into a arena, but was only a patch of overgrown field. At least, it had been.

"Here we go, a good bit of morning work for me, but I couldn't have you tripping over bits of rocks and grass." Scratch spoke cheerfully as a new gate was swung open and Edward walked into freshly laid saw dust in the circle.

He could smell the wood and he wrinkled his nose a little bit as he strained his head to look around. It was a perfect ring, large enough that he could have set up jumps and obstacles for training. But for now it was completely bare with brand new fence posts set in the ground. It was too much work for one man to do alone in a week, let alone a single morning! He twisted about and tugged on the lead as the man moved to pick up something and started to step away while letting the long lead go slack as he moved. Edward didn't care, he was too busy trying to figure out how the hell the stranger had managed this. It was another hint of the power the creature held and the strange uses for it.

CRACK!

Edward squealed out in shock at the loud sound and his body lunged forward instinctively away from it. The cracking sound had come just inches behind him and he bolted only to feel his head jerked by the lead. He got a dozen paces away, in a half circle before stopping and shivering in shock. His heart was pounding and he twisted his head back to see what had happened. It had almost sounded like a gun shot! He managed to get his head turned about and stared behind him while shivering slightly only to see Scratch grinning at him with a carriage whip in one hand. A very familiar whip at that. As he stared the man snapped it out again so that the end of the whip cracked just behind him with a loud snapping sound that startled him again.

He locked his legs in place and breathed in short pants, but Scratch didn't hesitate to snap the whip out again. This time the long tip nearly hit against his hind hooves and he felt the wind of it passing. That was it! His body took off before he could gain control and he clumsily ran on his forearms and hind legs. The hind legs worked great, but his arms were still human and didn't work the right way. But he still ran as the cracking sound was joined with a soft clicking tongue encouraging him. The lead only let him go so far before he was forced to run in a circle because of it. The man was lunging him! He twisted his head up and peered through the mask to glare, but Scratch only chirped again before the whip made another crack.

Whether Edward wanted to or not, his body bolted from the sound he was soon panting as he tried to get his forearms to run properly. His breath came out in soft bursts as he was soon working in a slow awkward gallop. His hind legs kept trying to run faster than his arms could carry him. It was uncomfortable and he had gone nearly half a dozen passes before it started to hurt him. His arms ached from the impact of his hooves against the ground. They weren't meant for this and the pain made him half wish that he had real forelegs. At least then his bones would ache from the jarring impacts and he wouldn't be struggling to make two parts of his body behave well together. And Scratch had no mercy. The man kept clicking his tongue and snapping the whip whenever Edward started to slow.

Two more passes and he was wincing at the impact of his forehooves against the ground. Why couldn't they work better? He just wanted them to stop hurting. That was the only thought in his body as his lungs burned with each breath. He was uncomfortable enough that he found it impossible to concentrate on what he was doing. He stumbled a few times, but still the damned creature made him run. He stretched out his legs and didn't feel more then heat along his forearms as he tried to pick up the pace. As he made another half circuit he was aware that his arms weren't aching quite as much. They were able to stretch longer and take his weight when he picked up his hind quarters. The muscles seemed to flow better as he stretched out and launched himself forward.

Edward only had a second to realize he was running faster. His hind legs kicked off hard and fast as his forelegs stretched out ahead of him in a smooth movement. His... forelegs. He let out a squeal, but the crack of the whip forced him onwards as he saw the flash of his long black forelegs extending out in front of him. The knees bent properly instead of the awkward way he had been running. Muscles that hadn't been there before contracted and tensed as he tore in a circle around Scratch. His breathing was labored, but that discomfort was overrun by the sheer fear of seeing his changed legs. And beneath that fear, was the strangest sensation of joy. A sensation that he tried to bury as he exerted himself to the fullest.

It wasn't that he wanted this, it wasn't that he wanted to be a horse, but his legs moved almost effortlessly. He flew over the ground and only the latex mask and halter kept him from tearing away from the strange man entirely. His body moved perfectly, an exquisite blend of human and animal that allowed him to gather up his legs time and again. It was the same joy he felt on the back of a horse and galloping through a field. It was the joy of knowing the wind passing over his naked body and brushing over the mask. It was a joy that the terror tried to push away, but it couldn't entirely. He didn't even know how long he ran before the soft voice called him back and the halter was lightly tugged so that he started to slow his gallop.

"Ease up! Ease up now!" Scratch called out and Edward slowed down to a trot with his breath come out in hot pants against the clinging latex. "There's a fellow, let's walk you cool now."

His legs were shaking, but he let himself be drawn down to a slow walk and his tail flicked back and forth along his haunches. He felt the long hairs brushing over the curve of his hip as he let himself be slowed down to a steady walk. His head bobbed up and down lightly while he caught his breath and tried to concentrate on simply placing his hooves down neatly on the ground. The ache that had been torture on his arms was gone, instead his muscles felt pleasantly loose. He felt the air brushing up and over his sweat gleaming body as the voice called out soft encouragements as he walked two full circuits with his tail bobbing behind him in time with the clop of his hooves. By the time he was called to stop he felt the sweat starting to dry.

"There's a fella, got used to that rather quickly didn't you." The stranger's voice was mocking as Scratch bent down and ran a hand along one of his forelegs. "And quite the strong legs as well."

Edward let out a snort and glared at him. The glare lacked force as he peered out of the latex mask. He could barely see the face on the creature. In the end he was reduced to stomping a hoof to show his displeasure and that only gained him an amused laugh. The long lead was unclipped from his halter, but a new one quickly replaced the old. A shorter one this time, meant for normal use in the stable. He tugged back on it a bit, but as he stepped back he realized he'd missed something entirely in his anger at having forelegs. As he stepped back he was no longer looking UP at the stranger. He was staring slightly down at him. The fear spiked and he jerked backwards until the lead pulled him up short and shifted the mask on his face.

Scratch didn't seem to acknowledge his sudden fearful backstepping, instead the man gave the lead a firm tug that brought him up short. His body had grown larger, his legs hadn't just changed, they'd elongated into the very proper size that a horse should be. It was disturbing and frightening. Did that mean that he was losing the battle? He hadn't done anything! He'd only been doing what he was supposed to do! He hadn't-

"Come along, m'lad. You seemed to enjoy your run, didn't you? Of course you did.." The man rubbed along his shoulder as the shaking Edward stepped forward. "Such an eager horse. I certainly didn't expect you to be so obedient..."

The words were soft and spoken with just enough of a lilt that was the sort of voice most people used on an animal. And what made it truly humiliating was the fact he followed behind with his legs shaking. He didn't try to struggle, he wanted the soothing calm words. They were the only bit of sense he felt as the hand rested on his shoulder and he was led from the ring. It was an instinctive need to follow, to look to someone, to be praised. He didn't even freeze up as he was led past the field and the sight of Hercules staring at him. The big rough stallion let out a whickering cry and Edward shifted his head away so that he was firmly walking beside Scratch. He used the man as a barrier all the way until he was pulled to the little concrete block just behind the barn where the hose was wrapped up and the normal grooming supplies were still in their bucket.

The man tied off his lead on a ring and gave him a final pat before moving to one side. It was so strange to see his own body being moved about around him. He knew the body intimately, but the stranger wore it with a grace he'd never possessed. Every movement was vaguely seductive and teasing. He'd never looked like that! It was uncomfortable and he shifted nervously with his tail lashing back and forth. His hooves clattered against the ground as he let out soft noises all the way until the hose was turned on and suddenly hit him full in his naked chest. Edward reared up slightly and let out a protesting noise at the cold spray while yanking back on the halter and latex mask.

"Easy fella, easy, easy..." Scratch grinned slightly and adjusted the flow so that just a dribble slipped out and flicked it up so the cold water poured down Edward's bare sides.

It was humiliating. He was being bathed. He wanted to crawl away somewhere, but the rest of him was so hot from his run. The cool water that trickled over his bare skin and down along his legs was soothing and he blew out a hot snort against the hated mask. The latex felt moist from his breath and made him wrinkle his nose slightly while the trickling water flowed down along either side of his neck. It spilled in rivulets to the ground and even went so far as to creep beneath the edge of the mask and his hair. Once he was well and truly soaked a bucket was pulled out along with a sponge and a familiar bottle of shampoo that he used on Hercules.

He grimaced and flushed, but didn't move as the thick sponge was lathered up and it started to work over him in firm strokes. They weren't the gentle rubs that he used on himself when bathing, there wasn't any consideration there. The strokes caressed and rubbed along the edges of his belly and even along his chest. They brushed along his legs so that he could scent the slightly sweet smell of it while Scratch worked to take the worst of the sweat off his body. And with the sweat, the grim and dust that he'd kicked up was sluiced off. He'd never been tended like this, at least, not since he was a child and his mother washed him. But then it had been with gentle care and play, now it was all business as his hind legs were scrubbed and even rubbed along the inner portion of his hind leg.

That made him snort and throw his head up. He twisted his head as much as he could to look through the slots of the mask as the man came very near his sheath. So close that it made his stomach contract with dread, but the stranger didn't grab it. Instead he just moved to the other leg and went back to the dedicated scrubbing. It wasn't harsh or cruel, it was thorough and it worked over muscles that had been stretched out. It was strangely pleasant to feel the way the fingers found the worst of the itching spots along his skin and brushed them away. He didn't think as he shifted one leg up and rested his hoof tip on the ground. It let that side of his haunches relax while the man moved to start scrubbing along his shoulders and chest.

Before long he was well and truly lathered up and the suds were rolling down his legs and dribbling all the way to his hooves. It was slightly uncomfortable to be bathed out in the open, but the touches and firm hand made him relax into it. He didn't fight it, instead he just enjoyed the sense of being clean and the voice that spoke to him was a constant stream of 'good fellow' and 'easy old son'. They voice never rose, never was sharp, it was a soft encouraging voice that was easy to fall into. That was his only excuse for not paying more attention to what was happening. That was his only real reason that he didn't pay attention to the bucket being moved or the rubs against his belly. He'd been scrubbed all over already, now they were just added touches.

Until the hand cupped under his belly and on the leathery sheath. He jerked a bit and snorted hotly as fingers curled against the tip. He strained his head backwards, but the mask was clinging harder to face because of the moisture from his breath. He couldn't see properly, but he could feel two hands, one hand cupped right under his sheath and held the pouch and the other lathered up soap around the edge of the opening and his tip. He tensed and started to lift a hind hoof in preparation for kicking out, but a sharp word made him drop it again. He trembled and fought the urge to fight against the lead that held him in place. He knew what was going on. He'd washed horses well before, he was going to get cleaned inside and out.

The soapy fingers wrapped right around the head of his changed cock while his fingers lightly slipped into the pouch. They were slippery slick, but didn't try to force anything. Instead they pulled ever so lightly so that he could feel the girth stirring inside of him. The tip started too ooze out and then the rest of his cock. The muscles that let it remain relaxed in it's home tensed and pushed it free as the hand massaged around the sensitive glans. It made his breath come out a bit faster as the other hand cupped under his heavy sheath and rubbed upwards slowly. The light strokes smeared more soap over him until he could feel suds dribbling from his tip. Inch by inch he was pulled free to swing heavy and solid beneath his chest and belly.

Scratch didn't stop until every last inch hung free and then the hands dropped away and he heard a splash in the bucket. When the hand came back it was with a sponge that was heavy and dribbling water and soap. His cock was held before the sponge started to move up and down against him. It would have been uncomfortable if it were cold, but he could have dealt with that. Instead it was warm water that was being used and it was oh so pleasant to feel the fingers holding him as the soft sponge spread the slippery slick suds from the base all the way to his base and then moved back downwards again. The fingers brushed lightly along the tip as it kept a gentle hold so that the sponge could move up and down and spread the soap as it went.

Edward sucked in a breath and turned to stare at the wall as the strokes kept going. It was warm, gentle and touching a part of himself that seemed far more sensitive then it should be. He tried to keep his flush from growing as he felt his body starting to react to the hold. It didn't just dangle softly beneath him, instead it started to stiffen and harden under the constant attention. He could feel the weight of it hanging from the sheath and the tip pushed itself along Scratch's palm. The feel of the palm grinding against his tip made his haunches tense up slightly and he started to harden enough that his belly muscles tensed up. His cock stiffened and tried to slap upwards against his chest, but the hold on it kept it in place as the sponge worked right around the base and over his sheath.

He shifted and snorted a little bit under the touches that forced his body to react. The need made his loins tense up as he tried to slap his cock up against his chest again, but the hold kept him in place while he let out hot blasts of air from his spread nostrils. His constant breathing seemed to heat the mask up on his head. The hollow muzzle and the parts along his cheeks seemed to try and cling to his skin as he arched his hips and tried to roll them forward. A thick heavy drop of precum oozed out of his tip and drooled downwards to coat the palm of the hand with a slathering of it. All he wanted to do was to be able to thrust between the fingers and drive himself into the warmth that was leaving him slippery and drooling.

He tossed his head up and felt the mask tightening against his face as he tugged against the halter and lead. The hot thick drops of precum started to ooze out constantly as Scratch shifted beneath him and moved back to start rubbing along his swollen sensitive balls. He whickered out and felt the mask shifting against his face as he opened his lips. He wasn't paying attention to the damned mask, he wanted to be able to actually get some relief as his cock started to throb and the medial ring stood out against the flesh. He rolled his eyes a little and threw his head up with another nickering cry, a cry answered from beyond the fence line while he set his haunches further apart. His hooves scraped against the ground while he tried to thrust forward again.

When he dropped his head a bit he realized that the mask wasn't just moving against him. He dimly felt tendrils of the latex stretching over his face and curling behind his head. The scent of latex flooded his nostrils, but even that didn't stir him. He was locked in the pressure of his loins that made him push forward until his cock tip ran between the fingers tips. Smears of precum dragged over his hardened tip while he squealed out. He rolled his eyes as the mask slipped and pulled along his face. He felt his jaws elongating, his tongue thickening, he felt the heat of the mask fading while he pushed forward again. He started to grind and push eagerly through the fingers. He didn't think of anything except the need that was growing almost constantly and making his balls tense up. He opened his lips and sucked in a breath of fresh air before curling his upper lip back. The thick soft lips quivered slightly as he drove himself forward again.

"Easy, good lord, you act like you've never been touched before." Scratch's voice was laughing as the lovely warm hands left his cock.

Edward almost immediately tensed his cock up so that it slapped lewdly against his chest and he pranced in place. He threw his head back until the halter dug in along his head and pinned his ears back in frustration before thrusting forward again. God, he just wanted the hands to come back again. He was so achingly hard that it was almost painful and the man just stood there looking at him. He tugged at his halter and whickered a plaintive cry in protest as Scratch picked up the hose he had been using and fiddled with the knobs. He blew out a hot snort and shook his head as the line of his neck started to ache and itch. He was too distracted to care. And the distraction was hard to ignore given the fact each hunching of his hips slapped the cock against the underside of his chest. He didn't even realize that he was twisting his head about on a long equine neck and breathing throat a broad pair of muzzles as the humanity he had had was lost in a rolling of the mask.

He squealed out in shock when the hose sprayed him and started to wash away the soap suds from his body. They rolled down along his legs and along the curve of his back and Edward stood in misery as his cock was left hanging and swaying beneath him while he was cleaned. The warm hose water ran down the line of his back and sprayed off his tail as it dribbled off. He was left trembling as the man purposefully ignored the need that had been aroused in him and instead aimed a jet of water up along his chest and along his forelegs. The area around his hooves was soon white with suds that rolled away as the soap was cleared away from him. All he could do was lower his head miserably and try to ignore the aching knee between his thighs. As his chin nearly touched his knees he realized what had happened.

He parted his lips and stuck his tongue along his teeth as he felt the gape in them. He stared down a long muzzle that was no longer odd looking through the holes in the mask, but instead he stared at himself. He stared at his own muzzle and the broad nose. He watched as his nose flared and quivered slightly with each breath he took. His ears flickered backwards and his cock started to soften under the shock of realize that he'd pushed more to being a horse. It wasn't just his hands and appendages he'd lost. He'd lost his lips, his nose, his features, his face. He wanted nothing more than to sob, but he couldn't. Even the relief at having his cock behaving itself was lost as a hand gripped his glans and the water trickled over him.

He grunted out shortly and shuddered as the wash of water spilled from the base all the way to the hip. The gentle touch was more then enough to remind his body that he wanted to be touched more than that. His hips rolled forward slightly and pushed along the fingers while it thickened again and tried to slap against his belly. He couldn't even control himself! He wanted to, he tried to remind himself that this was another man touching him, that he was losing his humanity. He wanted to remind himself of all those things, but all he could think of was the sensitive state of his cock tip and the way it throbbed in time with his heart beat. He wanted to feel more. He wanted to push into the hands and thrust until he could get relief.

"Easy fella, you're going to get yourself sticky." Scratch's voice was full of laughter and his cock tip was dropped before more water was dribbling over it. "There's a lad!"

Edward stared back at himself miserably and along his own glossy darkened coat and the water rolling over him. His skin was gone, the moment of need had cost him being bare skinned. Instead the body was coated in a glossy sheen of fur that was drying. Not black like his nose or legs or tail, but something darker. A brown of some sort. He snorted out and gave his head a short shake back and forth to try and get himself under control. He could control himself! He could control himself he just had to work for it. That was all. His cock drooled precum down towards the ground as he saw that there was still a lack of definition to his body. He looked half finished, a strange mingling of man and beast both. The fur thinned along his belly and showed hints of pink flesh there.

It's not too late, it can't be too late.. He flattened his ears down only to have his cheek rubbed by one of the man's hands.

"That went better then I thought. Now you're clean and I think I'll turn you out. Tomorrow... tomorrow will be a big day. You should get the rest you can, hmm boy?" The murmur was in his tapered ear and he swallowed slightly.

As long as it's away from him I can do it. As long as I don't have to put up with him... That was his only thought as the man unclipped the lead, gripped his halter and led him away from the was area.

As he walked he was humiliated to feel his cock swinging back and forth under him. Still half hard, still exposed to the world and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Even if he could do something, the only thing his mind wanted was to get off and feel that rush of relief.

"Keep acting like this and I might just have to geld you. Barely thinking with your other head." The stranger laughed as if it was a great joke and slapped Edward on the ass he opened up the pasture. The stallion shuddered and stepped into the long grass, grateful that he was escaping the man. Finally, peace and quiet.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Edward squealed out and kicked his hind legs up at the blunt yellow teeth that snapped down against his haunch and bolted forward for the sixth time since the sun had set. He glared back at Hercules as the big stallion lumbered after him with his ears held flat to his head and the massive hooves lifted up high as he pranced forward. Hercules, his horse. The horse he had bought, started to train, ridden and had pull a cart was stalking him with the thick neck arched and every muscle in his body showing aggression and purpose. Edward fidgeted slightly on his four hooves and threw his head backwards before flattening his ears and bolting away as fast as his longer legs could carry him. Which wasn't that fast, not when he had no idea where rough patches were that he might fall over.

Half an hour after he'd been let loose in the pasture hunger had gotten to him. He'd had to lower his pride and his head to crop the grass that grew all over the place. The taste of it wasn't even that bad given his hunger and he'd started to graze with purpose. It was humiliating to eat off the ground, but he had done it just to keep his stomach full. He hadn't seen the second gate being opened that separated the pastures until it was too late. He'd had a mouthful of grass he'd torn from the ground when he heard an outraged squeal and the pounding of hooves. That's when he found out that he wasn't being given peace, he was being put in direct competition of the stallion that felt this was his territory.

Hercules was letting him know exactly how he felt about a strange smelling stallion in the area. Edward had to tear across the field and stared back to see the grey shape snorting and pawing at the ground. It was a show and even from a distance and in the dark he knew that the stallion's ears were down. The door had been shut between the pastures when Edward had made a mistake of bolting through the gate. That was the last he'd seen of Scratch, how he had to contend with the big grey draft horse's attempts to make sure that he knew he was encroaching on another's territory. His haunches were sore from the rough bites on areas that weren't as thickly fleshed as a horse should be. He shivered his skin and fidgeted while rolling his eyes wildly.

_Damnit, this is dangerous! Does he want me killed?! _ He thought to himself as he backed up towards the fence line.

Even as he thought it he dismissed it. Hercules wouldn't kill him outright. He might try if there was a mare between them, but right now it was a dominance struggle and he was trying to back off. He didn't want to engage a stallion that had several hands on him and enough mass to do damage. He let out a short snort and finally saw a flash of grey behind him. The massive stallion charged forward again and Edward let out a squeal before trying to turn and bolt. He lowered his head and darted towards the other side of the fence just as blunt teeth caught against his shoulder and he heard the higher pitched scream of the stallion. He half reared up while the stallion's teeth gave a harder pull against his shoulder and bruised the flesh beneath it.

He kicked out frantically. He didn't want to hurt the stud, but it stung as he was gripped. One of his hind hooves caught against the curve of other stallion's shoulder and Hercules snorted out roughly. The big drafter nipped again and Edward tossed his head up as he saw a glimpse of the flattened ears and the white edged eyes. There was a moment when he tried to bolt away, only to suddenly feel the weight slamming harder against him. A large foreleg hooked over his haunches and he nearly collapsed as the draft horse pulled himself upwards right over his haunches and hooked against either side. Edward squealed out and bucked, but the legs tugged him back as the chest pushed down against his rump.

The blunt teeth caught against his neck and he felt a hot blast of breath as a low rumble erupted from deep in Hercules' throat. The hot scent of horse surrounded him and he tried to drag himself free, but the stallion pulled himself up harder. The weight was too much and his legs started to splay wider as he kicked and bucked. The grey draft horse shifted just enough that something hard and heavy dragged along his inner legs. He felt it bumping there. A heavy weight that made him flinch and his eyes snap open wide as inch by inch the heavy spire that the big stallion possessed started to drop while Edward dragged himself forward. The big draft stallion followed, walking on his hind legs so that the cock was bumping and rubbing him intimately.

Oh god no no no no no no... Edward's mind blanked slightly and he felt something slap upwards against his own balls and sheath.

Hercules grunted slightly and pranced backwards so that the stiffening cock grazed along the back of his legs. Thick viscous precum rolled downwards and coated the back of his hind leg in a thick roll. It smeared over his fur. As the weight shifted on his rump and pulled backwards Edward felt the cock slipping up and suddenly probe right up against his balls. It was big, he knew how big the stallion was, big enough that a smaller horse would find it hard. When it pushed itself upwards a hot smear of the stuff coated the darkness of his pucker before the prancing hooves lifted upwards and started the pull forward. The tip starting to strain him open, started to splay him wider. He could feel that snug ring starting to ache at the hard jamming pressure of the cock against him.

With a wild squeal Edward twisted and bucked. He threw his weight into it and used every last muscle to bolt forward so that the weight slipped away from his marked haunches. He pinned his ears back and twisted around with a low scream of defiance. How dare another stallion try to do that to him?! He was no mare! With a wild squeal and darted forward and used his blunt teeth to nip against the big drafter sharply to try and exert his dominance. He flattened his ears and darted in a second time to catch the haunches while the big grey pranced in place. The thick black fleshed girth swayed under him, heavy and swollen with a silent threat.

The drafter only tolerated it for another nip before Hercules screamed back and they hit each other while up on their haunches. Edward pulled his forelegs forward as he crashed into the greater weight and snapped blindly. His emotions were rough and wild, only wanting to drive away the hot scent of the male from him. He only wanted to make him go and claim this as his pasture. Their teeth clattered and scraped their necks briefly before they came apart again. Hercules' greater weight made it almost impossible to come up against him and be able to win. As soon as Edward was on all fours the big stallion charged again, this time his eyes flashed and his lips were pulled back to show his teeth.

He could only do one thing, run. With a frightened squeal he bolted away with his injured pride from the dominant stallion that started to drive him around the pasture again. His legs were already shaking with exhaustion. There was no way he could hope to keep this up. There was no way he could possibly get away from the great beast that was intent at his back. His mind stopped working, it stopped everything except the need to flee. His hooves flew over the ground as he was run in circles. The blunt teeth nipping him and the harsh charges of the chest against his own soon left him sore and trembling. He couldn't run forever and he knew it. The bay stallion let out a final squeal and took a run for the far corner and safety.

He ran until the fence line made him come to a stop and he drew back on his haunches. His legs were shaking and his breath was coming in short harsh pants. His sides heaved and were lathered with sweat and he dropped his head down as he sucked in great breaths. The bigger stallion was breathing hard as well, the grey sides gleaming in the moonlight, but he still stalked towards Edward with his neck arched and teeth showing. There was no way he could fight back. His legs barely wanted to hold him. He splayed his ears and dropped his tail down before lowering his head at the stallion's approach. His lips quivered slightly before lipping lightly at the air as the larger male stalked up to him.

He flinched as the teeth nipped against his shoulder, but he didn't kick, he only let out a weak whicker in response to the abuse. The large grey stud snorted hotly against the curved shoulder and the breath spilled along the curve of his back before there was a lighter nip. It was firm enough that he flinched, but not bruising. A low rumble spilled out of the big stallion as the body language shifted to overt menace to a wary watchfulness. Hercules nosed against the curve of his shoulder before starting to snuffle in earnest against his side. The hot breath made him shiver slightly, but it was better then being chased and abused. It was better than the painful attacks of teeth and hooves against him. Edward held still as he was examined and kept his head lowered and his position submissive so as not to rouse the stud's anger. Even when the nose glided down and brushed along the back of his leg before nibbling against the back of his knee he didn't kick. He was beaten and knew it.

~ ~ * ~ ~

The next morning found Edward bruised, tired and thoroughly humiliated as Hercules had continued to push him about that night. He'd even been forced to groom the horse with his teeth in a vain attempt to keep himself from getting mauled again. He shivered his skin and almost felt relieved to see Scratch coming down from the house. He moved with a long legged grace that made his body seem to roll instead of just walk. Behind him another man was loping to catch up and the stallion pinned his ears back. He recognized his childhood friend. Brandon had been just as horse crazed as he was, though the elder boy had grown up to own his own stable and proudly showed dressage horses. Edward twitched a bit and fidgeted, but didn't make a move to leave the fence line. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck getting beaten by Hercules again. And this was his chance to find a way out of this horrific trap.

"Good god, Edward. Look at those marks. You know better than to turn two stallion's loose together!" Brandon frowned as the fake Edward stepped up onto the lower rung of the fence and casually caught a hold of his halter.

"I thought they were separated. Dratted thing must have gotten the gate unlocked. No harm in it though." Scratch rubbed a hand up against his cheek and Edward stamped a hoof restlessly. "Don't know his lines, so I'll likely geld him anyway. Not worth passing on the bloodline of a mutt."

"Mutt? He looks lovely to me. Nice stance, good legs.." Brandon pulled himself up and over the fence with an easy grace. "Where'd you get him again?"

"Just a listing I saw. They advertised him as a trail horse with a bit of training in jumping. They didn't know what they had. Granted, the mostly had drafters. It's probably why he got into Hercules' pasture, though the big boy was a mare." Scratch spoke in Edward's voice, his mannerisms. It was disturbing.

The real Edward turned his head as Brandon came up to him and caught him beneath the halter. He flared his nostrils a bit and snuffled along the palm of the hand. Surely Brandon of all people would recognize that he wasn't a real horse. There had to be some part of him that wasn't fully an animal yet. There had to be some place that he would show as being something different, something strange. Except, his childhood friend only patted his neck and gave him a cursory look. The eyes swept along his back, and just smiled a bit before one of the hands thumped against his shoulder.

"Well, he's certainly good looking. Not a bit sway backed. He looks like a Dutch Warmblood to me. Though, he might have something else mixed in. Still, a fine boy." Edward's hands rubbed against his neck. "So, you're going to give him a try out."

"I intend to. Not sure when he was last under the saddle, but I thought it was worth it to have you about to make sure I didn't break my neck." Scratch gave a small grin as Edward felt his stomach turn.

Last night his chest and stomach hadn't been right. They'd been strange and vaguely humanlike, but Edward hadn't commented on it. He tugged at his halter and turned his head about so he could take a look at his own chest. It was barreled out and his stomach dipped upwards in a smooth curve. There was a hint of muscle definition beneath his glossy fur. Bay, he was a warm cherry bay so that the chestnut fur was a dark reddish brown that gleamed in the early morning light. There was nothing wrong with his body at all. At least, there was nothing wrong with his body if it was a horse's body. He trembled slightly and let out a noise low in his throat. What was happening to him? Why couldn't he just force his body back to what it was. A human!

He was so concerned with inspecting his body that he failed to pay attention to the voices that were talking about him. Instead, he was pulled back to his mind by the scent of something minty and sweet that hovered just near his muzzle. He whuffled and twisted his head about to see Brandon holding a peppermint in the palm of his hand as a treat. It was right there, on the palm of his hand, and despite all that had happened, the expectation that he was supposed to lick up the mint to eat it struck him as the most humiliating. He flicked his ears back and tried to ignore it, but it was harder then he thought. It had been over a day since he'd last had anything to eat that hadn't been grass or grain.

"What'd they call him? God, if you got him from a farm, please don't tell me it's something idiotic like Trigger or Blackie or whatever the hell they use at those places." Brandon moved the mint forward and reached up to scratch one of his ears. He couldn't help but lean into the stroke.

"Dobbins. They called him Dobbins. Not a bad name for around the stable, but I was thinking of renaming him something else." Scratch grinned as he slipped off the fence to haul up a worn saddle and pad onto the upper beam.

"Well, I'm sure you'll get a good name for a fine fellow like this." Brandon said the last words in a teasing croon and Edward broke.

He wanted to cry as he pushed his lips down into the hand and started to lip against the palm. The thick rubbery lips weren't like human ones, but he was able to pluck and pull the treat up so that he could use his tongue to pull it into his mouth. The taste of the sugar was a shock to his senses, but a pleasant one. It was a bitter sweet treat as he crunched down and ate it to the sound 'atta boy' and the stroke of the fingers roughly rubbing the side of his neck. He couldn't help himself, he pushed into that stroke with a soft groan as the fingers found a particularly sensitive spot when they moved towards his poll.

"I was thinking perhaps Satan's Promise or some such." Scratch replied from beside him. How had the creature moved beside him without noticing.

Because you were all but mooning over the fact you were getting your neck rubbed. He snapped to himself and shivered as a saddle pad was placed up over his back.

"Daft name, but perhaps not too bad." Brandon caught either side of his halter and he realized why he was being distracted. They were saddling him up!

"Well it is nearly Halloween and that red and black coat is very striking." Scratch laughed before reaching to pick up the saddle that was sitting on the rail. "Do you mind bridling him? I'm going to make sure my old saddle will fit him alright. Though I'm sure I'll need a new one."

"And he'll have to be shod as well. Can't risk his hooves." Brandon released one side of his halter and slipped a bridle down from his shoulder.

Edward gave a start and the man murmured soothingly towards him. He hadn't noticed the bridle. In fact, his vision wasn't quite what it normally was. He gave himself a shake and whickered out as the saddle pad slipped along his back. Scratch didn't seem to care, he just pulled it forward again so that it was situated higher up. He didn't want to be ridden! He wasn't a twice be damned horse! He jerked his head up against the halter and Brandon kept making soothing noises before tugging his head down. The front of his nose pressed against his childhood friend's chest and he flared his nostrils wide. He only shifted slightly as the light leather saddle was dropped down onto the pad and he felt the straps dangling to either side of his barrel.

He wanted to bolt and buck, but the fingers that stroked his head were light and soothing. Brandon's voice was familiar, and it was in that monotone soft voice that he used so often when a horse was upset or scared. It wasn't just the voice that was soothing, but the scents that he drew in from the loose shirt. They were warm with the scent of hay and horses, not fear, but the comfortable scent of equines that made his tense quivering muscles start to relax. He drew in a deeper breath of that scent and blew hard enough that the shirt rippled in front of his nose. The hands stroked lightly and rubbed right beneath his jaw while his friend kept talking. The words lost their meaning, they became just a noise that made him relax all of his muscles and lower his head.

He felt the girth being pulled under his belly and didn't fight it. It was padded and pressed up tight just behind his forelegs and over his chest. The strap tightened while he shifted and let Brandon pull his head upwards. His ears flicked back nervously, but those soft words kept him in place as his head was guided high enough up that the bridle could be slipped over his long nose. He pulled his ears flat, but Brandon's deft hold pulled the bridle up and over his tapered ears. A tickle of the fingers made him flick them up so that the head band could be put in place. His other hand pressed the metal bit right up against his lips. He let out a snort and jerked backwards, but a touch along his chin stopped him. The pressure wasn't hard or even uncomfortable. He was not going to open his lips.

A sudden tug against the girth shoved the band up tight against his chest and a shoulder pushed against his side. It was distracting and he immediately opened his lips to yell out a protest just out of habit, but that was enough. The bit slipped in over his tongue and fell into the gape of his teeth as if it was always meant to be there. The sharp metallic taste made him stick his tongue out and shake his head, but Brandon followed him as the straps to the bridle were adjusted and pulled snug against either side of his head with a light creaking sound. He gave himself a shake, but it was too late. The full bodied move barely nudged the saddle that was securely on his back.

"There we go, Dobbin, not a problem at all eh?" Brandon laughed and rubbed his nose as the reins were lifted up and over his head.

"Saddle is set. Let's see what our boy has in him, hmm? I'll get on up so he gets used to me on the ride to the ring." Scratch gave his shoulder a pat and Edward jerked as he felt the saddle shifting.

"Got the ring finished then?" Brandon moved his hand down to hold just under his bridle so that he couldn't shy away.

Scratch set a boot into the stirrup and swung up just as gracefully as Edward used to do and the weight pressed against his back. He felt the pressure of the saddle, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was well padded, but it made him fidget slightly and give his head a jerking toss upwards. He shied to one side, but the hold on the bridle kept him in one place as the creature on his back set the other boot into the stirrup. He couldn't do anything but follow when the reins were tugged, and the weight on his back shifted slightly and moved with him. The motions were smooth and easy and he fought the urge to tug backwards to glare at the man on his back. He was not a horse!

The men continued to talk to each other as he was led, thankfully, out of the pasture and towards the arena he had been lunged in before. He blew out a hot breath and pranced a bit nervously at the sight of it, but Brandon only calmed him down and guided him between the posts and onto the sawdust. His hooves thudded dully and the reins were released the moment he was set into the ring. He shivered his skin as the reins were gathered up by Scratch and he tossed his head down in a bid to tug them out of the hand holding them.

"Easy on, old fellow!" Scratch gave a light tug against the reins so his head went up and the weight shifted on his back. "Let's see what you have in you!"

Edward had been humiliated, fondled, teased, tormented and mocked, but he found there were worse things. He stepped out to the encouraging noises and the man on his back controlled him. It wasn't just that he was being ridden, it was the fact that he had no say in the matter! The reins guided him deftly in a full circuit of the ring and urged him up into a smooth trot. He lifted his legs high and tried to find the strength of will to buck the creature off and trample him to the ground. That's what he wanted to do at least. He wanted nothing more than to be able to get rid of the creature that had caused all his woes, but he couldn't. His body knew what it was doing and no matter how he tried to control it, it answered the reins as sweetly as any champion.

He went from a trot into a smooth canter and stretched his legs out as the man on his back shifted and moved in time with the beats of his hooves. Whatever Scratch was, he was a champion rider. He had a way of making sure that they moved as one powerful creature instead of two. The wind whipped over his ears and mane as he watched Brandon's figure flash by as the made three circuits at a cantor and the man on his back encouraged him. There were soft words, clicking sounds, a hundred small cues that were letting him know that he was doing well. He was doing magnificent! He was being enjoyed and savored in a way that humiliated him even as it made his chest swell with pride.

And when he was pushed into a gallop the world around him disappeared in a blur. His muscles, muscles he had never possessed or stretched, extended themselves into a flowing gallop. His glossy black tail went up and the soreness of the battles from the night before left him. He was running! He was running free as the wind itself and he could feel his great heart beating against his chest. He flared his nostrils wide and savored it. He savored the way the man on his back seemed an extension of himself and the reins guided him into circles so that he was nearly doubling up on himself. It was a wild run and it made his spirits lift to know that he was this glorious being that was meant for the earth and air!

Scratch's hands gave the reins a tug at the long end of the ring and turned him towards the closed gate. He ran with sure strokes of his legs and utter faith in the man guiding him. His tail was up and ears flicked back against the wind as he built up speed. He wasn't thinking, he was only responding to what the commands were given by voice, heel and rein. They didn't pound to the gate, they flowed in movements that made him appreciate the powerful hind legs and broad hooves. He wasn't turned away from the barrier, instead he was being pushed towards it with a joyous call from his rider. That gate wasn't high enough to be a barrier to him! He was the wind and the earth, he was power and muscles. He was everything that he was meant to be.

He heard Brandon shout out something, but it was too late. He pushed his hooves down against the ground and tucked his forelegs up as he gave a powerful leap. His ride shifted so that he was leaning forward in the saddle so that they sailed over the white painted wood. For half a second he expected to keep going. To take into the air with a sweet of broad wings and leave the earth behind. But the moment was gone as he extended his forelegs down to catch him in his jump and returned to the hard earth. The moment of exhilaration from being in the air thrilled through him and he ran in a short circle before being pulled up. His ears flicked up and he danced in place on light hooves as he fought against the bit. He wanted to jump again! He wanted to fly and gallop! He wanted to feel that glorious airborne moment!

"Good god! He can jump!" Brandon's voice came from one side as Scratch made soothing sounds and Edward snorted hotly before restlessly stilling his legs.

"Easy, easy, easy on, fellow. That's a lad. That's a boy.." Scratch sounded victorious as Edward slowed and finally stopped with his sides heaving for each breath. "Did you see him? He'll place at a beginners show easily! Not even a hesitation!"

"Good boy, Dobbin, that's a lad." Brandon came up and rubbed against his nose. "Damned fine horse, damned fine! Worth every penny!"

It wasn't until after he was done being groomed and washed down by the pair of men that Edward jerked back into awareness. He wasn't a horse. He wasn't a horse. He was a man! He was never meant to be a horse! He fought his way towards his outrage, but his spirit was light with the freedom of his run and first jump. How many other jumps and rides would it take before he forgot? It was a splash of cold water that made him solemn as he was led towards the paddock. He had thought that he could walk away from this after passing the test. Now, now he wasn't quite so sure.

~ ~ * ~ ~

The afternoon sun was warm and starting to set towards early evening. It was a perfect time for horses to graze and fill their bellies for the night. Edward longed to fill his stomach so that it would be full, but he had no such luck. Hercules wouldn't let him graze. The big stallion chased him still, as if his aggression was back after seeing him leave. Edward tried to avoid him by standing near the fence line where Scratch was watching the field. Except, he couldn't escape the beast. Hercules didn't care if someone saw him behaving badly, because Scratch made no move to intervene. Instead he seemed almost amused. Eventually Edward was forced to crowd up to the fence to get away from the large stallion. Close enough that his halter was caught and he was held in place.

"You know, if you're that hungry you just have to show him you're submissive." Scratch drawled out as one hand started to absently scratch along Edward's jaw. The stallion snorted with disdain of that idea. He'd tried to lower his head, but that was going.. awkwardly.

"Poor thing. All you have to do is be submissive. He will get angry again, you know. I'd hate to have you hurt, but it's best that horses work these things out." The stranger kept stroking his cheek.

A sharp bite hit his haunches and Edward squealed out and jerked his head back, but the hand on his halter forced it back down again. He could only jerk his legs to one side as the big grey stallion rumbled and stepped forward. His eyes rolled slightly and he stared nervously at the aggressive draft horse. This wasn't fair! There was another paddock he could have been into, there was another place he could have been that wouldn't have caused any problems!

"I see, I think there's a bit too much testosterone in this pasture. I can't have my new champion being hurt." Scratch sighed and shifted his hand on the halter before slipping over the fence. "I suppose it was too much to hope for two stallions to get along."

Edward let out a noise low in his throat to agree with him. What had the creature been thinking? Two stallions couldn't get along in one paddock, not in captivity. Even without mares it caused too many problems and he rumbled a little bit as Scratch moved to one side while still holding his halter. He turned his head so the man had more give to hopefully drive Hercules away so that Edward could have a chance to graze decently. If that was his only way to eat, he had to at least be allowed that! He shivered his skin a little bit and gave a wary look as the stranger moved all the way to his haunch and frowned at the prancing grey draft horse.

Hercules didn't seem to see any problem with trying to dart in to nip against Edward's haunches. It made him jerk a hoof up and try to shy away. He didn't want to kick the big drafter. He wasn't sure he knew his own strength and it went against all of his teachings to hurt a horse. But he'd have no choice if he kept getting bullied. Surely Scratch would see that and get him out of here.

But Scratch didn't. Instead, the stranger leaned down and Edward let out a surprised oomph as a hand reached up to cup along one of his heavy balls. The flesh tightened a bit and he strained to look backwards. The man rolled the ball against his fingers lightly and pressed along the flesh so he protested with a sharp snort. The snort turned into a squeal as blunt teeth grazed right against the base of his tail. He was being attacked on two sides and he couldn't do anything! It made his eyes roll slightly and he sidled to one side, but a jerk against his halter warned him to stand still. He shivered his skin and flinched as the blunt teeth nipped against his tail a bit harder while hands on his balls gave a kneading squeeze.

The touch was gentle enough that it was almost pleasant. Hell, it would have been pleasant if a woman had been doing it. He could admit to himself that he would have enjoyed the touches and even tried to get a bit more. Hercules nibbled and nip against his haunch, the touches there were harder, but more insistent. He pushed forward to try and get away from the big stallion, but his chest pushed up hard against the back of the edge of the fence. It pushed hard against him, almost too hard while he let out a short sharp snort. His tail lashed back and forth wildly as the stallion kept following him. He used his tail to lash and hit against the muzzle roughly. But through it all the strokes were massaging over his balls so he felt himself starting to react.

When he'd been human he'd never reacted so strongly to touch as he did in that moment. The thickness of his cock tip pushed outwards and dangled downwards. He felt the air brush along it as it began to fill out and grow heavier by the moment. The fingers stroked just between his orbs and even moved to rub along his sheath, only egging him along. Edward's ears flushed a hot red as he realized that he was nearly entirely dropped just from a bit of light petting. Not even the rough nips and crowding pushes of the stallion behind him changed the fact that his body was reacting eagerly to each and every touch. The tip swayed back and forth before it began to stiffen up. He flattened his ears and shuddered. He didn't want to do this!

The fingers massaged a bit more firmly against the swell of his dark orbs as if trying to keep his mind away from the fact the stallion was nipping and snapping right against the base of his tail. He jerked his tail down and tried to cover himself as the nips started to move towards the back of his legs. The hot breath ran along the inside of his legs and brushed behind his balls while Scratch moved to the other one. The palm of the hand rubbed along the flesh and shifted it back and forth. The light roll of the hand jostled them while he moved his hips to one side. The halter jerked again, but this time he fought it. Hercules gave a short hard bite against the back of his leg down near his knee. He jerked his foot up and squealed out.

"Now now, poor thing, don't be so hard to get. I wonder when was the last time you let him stand at stud." Scratch mocked a little bit as the fingers gave a squeeze hard enough that he let out a pained noise and froze in place. "A port in any storm, hmm?"

Edward's eyes snapped open wide and he jerked his head up higher in the air at what was being said. His ears flattened down and the teeth snapped down right against the base of his tail, it was a hard bite that yanked him forward. He jerked his tail downwards and tried to cover himself as the hot breath started to puff out in hot moist pants. It ran just around the edges of his fur while he tried to think about when Hercules was last put to a mare. He hadn't had a chance to advertise him, it wasn't even the right season for it! But the drafter had been standing at stud all through the spring and summer, he shouldn't be interested in another stallion! They didn't work that way. Stallions didn't work like that. Not at all!

The hold on his balls remained hard and the pressure suddenly grew to the point that he squealed out. "Lift the tail, mare." Scratch drawled out. "I'm not going to deal with both of you trying to beat each other up so I think it's time you come to an accord.

Edward shuddered and the grip hardened again, the tender orb being compressed as he felt the pressure growing to the point that it started to make him wheeze out in short harsh breaths. It was painful and made him want to squirm. Hercules let out a hard puff of breath right against his tail base and started to nip it upwards. God no! He wasn't going to do this. He lifted his head up and looked back to see the massive mottled flesh hanging down beneath the draft horse. It swayed back and forth, full and thick. Large enough that he blanched. The grip on his balls suddenly flexed and he let out a breathy noise before lifting his tail up. His ears burned and his heart started to pound harder and faster along his chest.

The moment his tail lifted up he felt a sharp bite right beneath the base of his tail so that it was forced to flag up higher to avoid it. The moment his tail was up the pressure on his balls relaxed. His halter was released and he was able to drop his head down, but not run away. He couldn't possible get away with the hand gripping his balls. He was mortally certain that jerking away wouldn't be allowed and Scratch would make sure that he was leaving without them. The teeth snapped higher up along the edge of his haunch and he heard Hercules' hooves clattering and pounding against the ground. He barely had time to shy forward before suddenly the other stallion's chest shoved up against him and started to move upwards.

Edward squealed out and bucked roughly, the moment he did, the fingers squeezed down to remind him that he was caught. He couldn't buck or move. He came down to all fours and trembled as the weight of the large grey stallion pushed higher and a pair of feathered forelegs hooked along either side of his haunches. The draft horse was large, far larger then he was, so even as he tried to buck and sidle he couldn't get the weight off him. His eyes rolled backwards and he had a glimpse of Scratch giving a smug smile before something heavy slapped up between his legs. The heavy cock pushed itself along his balls and the stranger's hand as the beast humped roughly.

The final humiliation came as the blocky head came forward and the blunt teeth gripped the curve of his shoulder just like he would with a mare. His hind legs splayed open wide to try and hold the weight while the rough thrusting pushing jabbed the tip between his legs over and over again. They bumped up against his inner thighs and glided along the curve of his haunches. Wet smears coated over him and he flinched before trying to pull away. Except there was no away. There was no where for him to go or escape to! He whickered out and the shaft between his legs slipped backwards so the tip jabbed against the back of his haunch. He flinched and shuddered as he tried to ignore the fact his own cock was hanging out in a lewd display beneath his belly.

"Ahh poor thing, let me help you ease that itch.." Scratch drawled out and Edward threw his head up to see the man reaching down to help the beast aim.

He let out an equine scream of protest before the tip shoved up hard against the dark anal ring. Thick slimy precum rubbed out over him and coated his pucker. He tried to tense up to stop the tip from pushing inwards, but that was his mistake. The stallion suddenly lunged forward in a sharp thrust and a cry burst free from his throat as the cock tip wedged itself into his tight virginal channel. The teeth against his shoulder clenched down harder and he heard the hooves lifting and dropping roughly against the ground as the beast edged in further and further. The tip pushed deeper and stretched his passage open while he could do nothing but strain to keep in place so that the hands gripping his sensitive balls didn't hurt him.

Hercules grunted out against his neck before the hips lunged forward again and another few inches pushed into his body. They shoved inwards all the way to the point that the medial ring pushed against his violated pucker and then he drew back. The horse's stomach rested over his haunches and he felt the back arch as he started to thrust. The drag backwards made him groan out as the pain of being stretched was mingled with a curious pressure and pleasure that made his cock flex against his belly. A spot inside of him was being pushed and rubbed by the thickened flesh. The hips lunged forward again and the medial ring popped into him making him jerk forward slightly.

Hot thick dribbles of precum oozed out of the tip and drooled inside of him. It spilled out and coated him in the raw scent of stallion as the tip was thick enough to shove it in. He was too small for the stallion even if he was a mare, and to have himself stretched open made him let out short hot pants. He dropped his head down and shuddered as the hips pushed forward again and he heard the hooves clattering and prancing behind him. To make matters worse Scratch decided to 'help'. One of the strange man's hands moved down and cupped right at the base of his cock before stroking downwards. A gentle caress that forced his sensitive body to react. Between the rubbing pushes against his prostate and the hand that massaged his cock he managed a slight buck.

The warm fingers wrapped around him and started to caress up and down in slow smooth movements that made his entire body tremble. He rolled his hips forward and drew them backwards to try and press into the touch. The man crouched down beside him until the hands dropped down and slipped all the way to his cock tip. They caught around the tip of his cock and squeezed as a thick dribble of precum oozed out of it and caught over them to be smeared against his flesh. He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it, but he could ignore that as well as he could ignore the hot thick shaft that worked itself in and out of his passage. The slow drags pushed the medial ring in deep until thick dribbles of precum oozed out around the edges.

Edward splayed his forelegs and wanted to sob. His body was stretched too wide, too much and it should have been painful, but instead his walls clamped around the cock as it sawed in and out of him. The tip was plunging deeper and deeper into his passage while he was left trembling with his legs splayed just to keep his body up. Through it all a hand massaged and pumped over his cock tip. The fingers squeezed and pulled, stroked and caressed over him until he was humping into the touch. His nostrils flared open wide and he let out a muted whickering cry before he started to thrust forward. The other hand was on his balls and those were being massaged and caressed. It felt good, it felt so horribly good that he couldn't think of anything else.

His humiliation was being forced away by his own building lusts. He shuddered and heard Hercules grunting against his back as the tip started to thicken up. It was swelling and flaring open while the powerful haunches clapped up against his own. The legs gripped against his barrel and dragged the heavy weight forward over and over again. He couldn't escape it! Scratch started to milk and work him faster. His own precum was used as lubricant to coat over his swollen flesh and Edward started to buck into the touch. He pushed forward harder and crouched his hips down while he let out short hard whickers and squeals. Nothing else mattered but those fingers, nothing else mattered but the feel of the hands gripping him and the powerful plunge of the cock inside of him.

Hercules suddenly lunged himself forward and came to a shuddering halt as the stallions cock strained him open painfully wide. Edward clamped down tightly around him before the first hot thick wash of cum erupted from his body and spilled in hot ropes. It was slippery and was only pushed in deeper as his own muscles contracted and rippled around the pulsing girth. He pushed himself back against it, too lost in the way the hand was working his cock and keeping him on edge. Nothing mattered but being touched, nothing else mattered but feeling the pressure growing in his loins. His cock was stiff and flexing against the hand that gripped around the tip. His balls started to pull back just as the thick heavy gel oozed out of the tip of the stallions cock.

The stallion let out a shrieking cry as the hands on his balls suddenly pushed up firmly. The pressure spiked through him and his cock tip blossomed open. The hand could no longer wrap around it, he was too large, too swollen, but it didn't matter. His legs started to shake as his entire tip pulsed and a hot jet of horse cum spilled out of him to splatter against his chest and leg. The thick pearly ropes were splashing over him, the ground, and he didn't care. His walls pulsed and milked the softening cock inside of him as the pressure of his balls was relieved by a release that made him feel light headed. He could feel the fingers digging in against his balls, but it no longer mattered. Nothing mattered but the pleasure, nothing.

It seemed as if time had stood still, though some rational part of his mind knew that it had only been a few heart beats that his climax had lasted. Hercules released his shoulder and the big stud pulled backwards slowly. Inch by slimy inch of his cock was tugged out of Edward's deflowered tail hole. The thickened tip popped free with a lewd wet noise before the former man felt an ooze of something rolling down between his legs. Cum, his ass was leaking cum. He trembled and lifted his head while trying to breath steadily. His own cock hung soft between his legs, but when compared to the rough draft stallion it was a pitiful looking thing.

"There we go, now you'll both learn to behave. We can't have two stallions in the same paddock." Scratch wiped his hand on one of Edward's flanks.

The bay turned his head to glare at the strange man and froze. The hands moved from between his legs and from the angle he was looking, he could see straight back to where his tail was being held awkwardly up away from the mess. Right along the softened cock, but not balls. There no balls, just the sheath that was drawing up his girth and behind it a smooth patch where his pride and joy had been. He was a gelding.

~ ~ * ~ ~

How much time had passed since Edward had been a man? Sometimes he knew it was only a matter of two days, other times it felt like eternity. He only knew that his world had been changed and it wasn't for the better. At least, that's what he told himself. The day he'd been forced to act like a mare for Hercules he had been washed off, roughly groomed and turned over to a farrier who had trimmed, shaped and put shoes on him. The man didn't seem to see anything amiss on the farm, in fact he'd made several compliments on how well behaved he was. That had been the end of his second day. He'd been patted, given a treat and the man had left while he lifted his hooves awkwardly with the shoes on the bottom. Then he'd been turned out into the pasture for the evening.

Hercules had made his claim again that night and to his humiliation he hadn't stopped it. He'd allowed himself to be driven, nipped, bullied and pushed around until his only choice was to lift his tail like a mare in heat. It had been horrifying to be used again, but not as horrifying as his gelded body reacting to the big stallion. By morning he was sweat covered, tired and used. He wanted nothing more then to graze away the morning and be left alone. But that wasn't his choice. Not at all. He knew it wasn't the moment that a truck had backed up to the gate and Scratch had emerged looking fresh faced and grinned at him.

"Today is your final day, Dobbin. Today you show me what you really are." The man who wore Edward's body let out a short laugh as he opened the gate. "I hope you're ready."

Edward had given him a weary look and hadn't even managed more then a token protest as he was led from the pasture. He was too happy to get out of the pasture where Hercules was giving him longing looks. The grooming was rough and quick, a run of the brush, a scrub with a wet rag before a blanket was tossed over him and fastened to his chest. It was all done as if Scratch had other things on his mind, he hadn't made any more comments aside from a few murmurs of praise. That suited Edward just fine. He was going to show that damned man what he was made of. That was the thought he took with him as he was pulled into the trailer. That was the only thought in his mind until he arrived at one of the big stables three cities over. A stable that held open shows for horses just starting out. They mostly had kids there, but there was an adult class as well.

"Here we go, down you get." Scratch murmured and pulled at the lead so that Edward snorted and stepped down the rant. He glared at the man. This creature couldn't be serious!

"God, couldn't you have groomed him!" Brandon's voice was annoyed as his familiar form pushed his way through the crowd. "He looks like he's covered in dust."

"I figured it would be better here, we'd have to touch him up anyway." Scratch gave a pull of the lead and Edward stared out at the distant ring with a shiver. He was not going to do this. He wasn't a horse!

"Too true, well, I'll do his mane for you. I know that you've never been good with a braid. You get to grooming him and get his legs wrapped. You're entered in the late show so we have a bit of time." Brandon took the lead with an absent minded pat for Edward and tied it off beside the trailer.

_Just look at that man! That's not me, Brandon! I'd never take a horse that wasn't fully groomed off the farm! _ He tried to desperately think the words at his childhood friend with the vain hope the man would somehow understand.

Brandon didn't say a word of question, but secured the lead and tugged it a few times. He went off with Scratch to the truck where buckets filled with grooming supplies. He knew what was in the bucket. He'd shown horses almost all of his life, but it was humiliating to have them unloading stuff at an almost frantic pace while they walked around him as if he were a piece of furniture. The only concession was a hand brushing his rump each time they moved behind him to make sure he didn't kick them on accident. By the time they had laid everything out he grew tired of watching them and stared off at the distant ring. He could see the familiar stands and the trailers that were pulled up that partially blocked his view. Horses of every type were in various states of grooming, as well as humans, adults and children, being suited up. The show wasn't prestigious, but it was a good stepping stone.

He was pulled back into attention as Scratch moved in on him with a brush in hand and started to work along his neck and side. The firm strokes flicked off loose hair and dust in a cloud while his head was pulled down towards Brandon. He let out an uneasy rumble as he saw small silver scissors in one hand. He wanted to jerk his head back up, but the hold on the bottom of his halter was firm. He was pulled down until his nose was pushed against his friend's belly and a soft cheerful voice murmured in his ear. It was that same warm scent as before, the scent of horses and hay, the scent of all the good things that his body yearned for. The scent of safety that would wash away the fear and humiliation and replace it with a warm swell of happiness that this nice man was paying attention to him.

Edward flicked his ears up to a "Hey Dobbin! Pretty Dobbin!" that Brandon chirped out and his mane was pulled upwards just behind his ears. The scissors clipped quickly and he felt long hairs falling down along either curve of his neck as a bridle path was clipped away through the thickness of his mane. The snipping spilled hairs to either side once and then a second time as the hairs were trimmed down far closer to his flesh. It made him shiver his skin and twitch it now and then to get the hairs to fall free. The rest of his body was being worked over by the brisk strokes of the brush. They weren't the cursory brushes of earlier, but a smooth sweep that was intended to bring the shine out in his coat and make sure that every shed hair it could find would be pulled free.

Scratch was good at what he was doing. He was being swift, but thorough, and it reached itches that occasionally made him lean to one side to try and press himself against the strokes so that they took care of those twinges. Brandon released his head and moved to one side as he began to trim in swift clips. The man had always been good with making his horses look good and he trimmed the ragged spill of his mane down to a smooth four inches that was perfectly even. The long hairs fell around his hooves in a pile and were swiftly brushed away by Scratch's eager strokes. As the last bit of his mane was clipped the brush that Scratch had was changed out for a rag and a small bottle.

Edward didn't even think as he turned his head and snuffled at the bottle and rag curiously. His lips stretched out and Brandon laughed before tugging his halter so he was facing ahead again.

"Easy on, lad. He's just going to make you shine. Don't put any of that where the saddle is going to lay. We don't want the saddle slipping." Brandon teased as he coaxed Edward's head down.

"You'd probably take a picture." Scratch replied. It was frightening how easily the strange creature inhabited his life and habits.

He shivered the concern away as a bit of black yarn was pulled out and a deft hand started to work along his mane. Brandon started with the forelock, which felt a lot like having his hair fussed with normally, but his hair had never gone so far back. The fingers worked and twined the yarn into mane was the hairs were pulled up and braided. They were woven into each other steadily while a soft humming spilled from his child hood friend's lips. It was just a quiet melody that trilled out easily, but the sound of it made him start to relax into the pampering. There was something intimate and soothing about feeling the gentle touches over his body and mane.

Scratch used the cloth to brush something along his hide. He flared his nostrils and smelled the sweetness of the oil that would make his bay coat shin the way it was meant to. It was brushed over his shoulders and smoothed down in smooth steady strokes. It felt so terribly good. He leaned into the attention and let out a heavy sigh of pleasure when the touch started to move along his barrel and towards his loins. The sweet scented oil and the feel of the fingers tugging his mane made him close his eyes and give into their ministrations. It was so easy just to relax when the touches were so gentle. They weren't forceful or harsh, they were soothing and he let his head lower a little bit so his nose just touched Brandon's shirt so he could draw in the soothing scent of horses.

The grooming faded into the back of his mind as his eyes started to lid slightly. He shifted his weight and rested the tip of one hoof on the ground as he was coated with a gleaming oil that would make his bay coat even more striking. Some people thought that brown horses weren't that impressive, and lumped bays in with the brown, but he knew the truth. The black and brown mingled together would make a dramatic look for him. His mane being tied up along his neck would show off the smooth muscled curves. He would be so handsome. He'd be so lovely. He closed his eyes entirely and started to drowse as the rag slipped away and he heard the clip of scissors moving somewhere below him.

Oh my legs, they have to make them smooth.. He thought to himself, but the thought was slow, his mind felt so slow. It was so hard to be bothered by all of this.

The scent of Brandon and horses reassured him as he started to drift away into half formed dreams and was only half aware of the men around him. He stirred when they moved or shifted him. Then he would come awake to find his forelegs being wrapped up and braced or his hooves being polished so that they would shine. But each time he felt reassured by the scents and sounds of their voices before dropping back down into a half sleep. Why should he be awake? Their hands were so gentle, so very gentle and tender along him. They wouldn't harm him, they would care for him. They wanted to make him look like a prize and he would be. A little nub in his mind screamed of his humanity, but he didn't care about that. He cared about being given the attention he wanted.

That is how they've always lost.. An amused voice breathed through his mind and he couldn't even stir himself to being bothered by it. Not when Brandon started to rub along the ridge of his neck with firm fingers.

He stirred a bit as he felt his tail being lifted and Edward flashed his eyes open for a moment of panic at it being lifted away. The panic was soothed by a stroke to his cheek and he trembled slightly. He couldn't lose himself. He couldn't be a horse. He lifted his head away from the touch and tried to turn his head to glare back at Scratch who gripped his tail and was brushing it with long strokes to make sure the tangles were taken care of. He let out a snort and purposefully snapped his tail down and out of the way before stepping forward. He was not going to give into this treatment! He wasn't going to do it! He was better then this, better then being forced to act like a horse!

"Hold his head would you, Brandon, I need to get his tail braided and trimmed." Scratch pulled the tail up and to the side again to begin brushing.

Edward tried to force himself firmly into his mind, but it was hard. The strokes along his neck were moved to his cheek while Brandon gripped the lead right beneath his chin so that he was forced to hold perfectly still for being tended. It rattled his nerves and he gave his head another shake to try and pull it away, but it was forced to hold still. Behind him Scratch started to pull his tail upwards so that the long hairs could be worked upwards to form a French braid starting right at the base of the tail. The long strands were pulled up one at a time so that his tail didn't remain loose and flowing as it had been. It would be bound up around the tail bone so that it showed off his hind quarters and looked more dramatic. It was a classic look when it came to showing a hunter and it made him fidget and shiver his gleaming bay hide.

"Hey now, what's gotten into you, Dobbin?" Brandon moved to cup beneath his chin and started to rub up against his jaw.

"He's just nervous by the noise, I bet." Scratch spoke up from behind him so that Edward flattened his ears back. "Why don't you give him a few treats and attention. That'll sort him out."

Brandon laughed a bit, but moved down to start rubbing along Edward's jaw again. He looked up into his friends eyes and pled for him to see the truth. He wasn't a horse, he wasn't supposed to be this way! Instead his child hood friend reached down and picked in his pocket before coming up with a sticky bit of peppermint. The sweet scent of it hit his nostrils while he was being stroked over the jaw and upwards towards the back of his ears. The palm moved down beneath his muzzle as Brandon started to murmur softly and reassuringly. Edward flinched a bit at the crooning voice, but his stomach reminded him that he'd only had a bucket of grain this morning. It was candy, sticky candy with a bit of lint on it, but still it was something that a human would eat.

As before, he dropped his head down into the hand and scooped up the treat. He flushed a bit and his fur heated up as he left a wet patch against Brandon's hand as he crunched the treat. His tail was pulled a little and he felt the braid wrapping firmly along his tail bone while he was being made much of. Both hands moved up to tease along his ears and rubbed right behind them where they could find a sensitive spot to make him push into the touch. Edward dropped his head and let out a sigh as they reached further back and itched right where all the hairs had tickled earlier when his mane had been braided up. The tugging on his tail was a distant thing when compared to the constant attention that he was being given in the form of scratches and soft murmurs.

The warm scent came to him again and he tried to fight it away. Part of him was screaming in panic that this was not how a human should behave! He'd never stick his head against Brandon's chest when he was a human, so why was he now? Except the harder he pushed against the chest and belly, the more the fingers worked against him. He finally settled his head down and puffed out a heavy sigh. The touch was so reassuring. It was gentle and soothing so that he started to relax and let himself drowse again. He was so tired from last night, still. It was good to be safe. To be stroked and caressed. It was good to be given attention and safety. That's what he was being given. Safety. The fingers reached the base of his neck right where his mane ended and started rubbing harder.

Oh that feels so good.. He groaned a little and leaned into it just as Brandon moved and he had to lift his head upwards. His tail had dropped back down to normal, but he felt the pressure where the braid wrapped the base.

"You're a hedonist, Dobbin, a handsome hedonist though. Such a flashy boy! Let's get you tacked up." Brandon crooned and Dobbin couldn't help it. He crested his neck in pleasure. He was quite handsome to look at. He could feel how clean he was!

~ ~ * ~ ~

"NEXT INTO THE RING! SATAN'S PROMISE RIDDEN BY EDWARD DELAQUR!" The announcer blared the name over the speaker, the last two words Dobbin knew. He knew that name. He gave himself a shake and pranced beneath his rider.

"Easy, easy, lad. You're a natural.." His rider murmured softly and ran a hand down his neck. Dobbin chewed the bit as he waited for the signal.

STOP IT! WAKE UP! I'M HUMAN!! A tiny voice screamed through his mind, but the horse shook his head irritably.

Why was that voice being so insistent? It was a distraction. The small part of Edward that was still human tried to break free, but it didn't work. It was pushed aside by the thought that this was his chance. This was his show. He would be a horse like no other! The humanity was leaking away like water from a bucket that had sprung a leak.

Dobbin flex as his rider gave the signal and took off with smooth strides that carried him around the ring and the feel of the reins pressing down against either side of his neck. His rider moved smoothly on his back, the hips rolling slightly so that each drop of his hooves wouldn't jar him. He felt his legs stretching out as he ran and let himself give control over to his rider. The pressure of the knees and the feel of the reins. They controlled him, they were an extension of his rider who, in turn, was an extension of himself. They moved together with a fluid grace that made his heart rise and thrill. He knew no matter how hard the ride or how he turned his rider wouldn't fall off. The legs gripped his sides firmly and kept him secure.

He flared his nostrils and was turned towards the jumps that had been set up through the ring. The course mingled so many kinds and his ears came up with a fierce joy. His mind rolled back to the gate and the feel of almost flying. His hooves kicked up dirt behind him as he was guided to the first jump and he felt his rider shifting on his back. The world flew beneath his feet, flashes of dark brown and tans, but his eyes were all for the white poles that barred his way. As he approached he felt his rider shifting forward and he nearly let out a cry of joy as his body, his beautiful muscular body, pushed upwards and his powerful hind legs kicked upwards into the sky itself.

He was flight and freedom. He rose up over the barrier and dropped down with ease. His braced forelegs hit the ground and he was already away and running for the next barrier. This was what he was made for. This was who he was and what he had been born for. The wind streamed past him and Dobbin lifted his head higher as he launched his way skyward and felt him casting the earth away from him. The wind ran along his bared neck while his rider leaned perfectly over his neck. No words were spoken, but he felt the fierce joy echoed there as they took the leap and moved to the next in the pattern.

Dobbin moved with his rider the way he had been designed to. They were one creature, both encouraging the other and taking joy in the moment. They took the jumps with ease as he gloried in the way he stretched and strained himself. His breath came out hot and short, but he wasn't tired. Energy thrilled through him as he was turned towards the final jump. His tail flagged up with good humor and he felt the pressure of his rider's legs against his sides as he launched himself over it. He tucked his forelegs up tight to reach the height he needed and dropped down with a soft thud. The world came back to life with a roar of clapping hands and whistles as his rider pulled him up.

Dobbin arched his neck and tucked his chin down towards his chest. The gelding's eyes flashed slightly as he pranced forward with his legs held high and felt his rider sitting up straighter. His black flashing legs danced beneath him as he trotted towards the exit to the approval of the audience. This was his world, his life. How could he leave it behind? He was earth and sky mingled together in one powerful hooved body. He picked his legs up higher in a showy move as they passed through the exit gait and his riders hand stroked forward along his neck. Scratch leaned forward and rested his cheek along Dobbin's braided mane.

"Your wish is granted, my lovely one. You will be a horse like no other. And I... I have a body again. My lovely Dobbin, my beautiful gelding." He murmured and Dobbin crested his neck in pleasure. He was beautiful.