Small Horses Can Be Best

Story by seraphls on SoFurry

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I'll be honest, I've never particularly liked horses. This was my attempt to sort of work through my fear of them. Also wanted to try and do some shorter stories that I could finish up faster while I still had some steam going for them... didn't exactly work out that way, but it's still finished!

I don't particularly have any plans on doing a Part 2 for this, as this was sufficient for what I wanted out of it. However, I have a deal for you guys: if someone gives me a good idea that I can base a 4-6 page story on (not just throwing out "more bondage" or "put him in chastity"), and I like it enough that it inspires a 2nd part, I'll give that person a special cameo in it.

In the meantime, however, enjoy!


Clyde felt a mix of excitement and terror as he was taken down off the auction block. The last two times the young horse found himself on display for the crowds of prospective buyers, he wound up back in the squalid pits where unsold slaves were kept. The first time, Clyde had come up toward the end, when most of the prospective buyers had emptied their pockets for the large workhorses and fertile mares that came before him. The second time, a fight broke out as the slave before him fought with his handlers, ending his time on the block early. This time, though, fate had smiled on him, and he found himself being led by the bridle to the stable where purchased slaves were prepped for their new masters.

Clyde was led to a stable off to the side, where several attendants waited. Several other slaves stood in washbasins, the filth of the pits being washed off them. The young horse suddenly became a bit self-conscious, realizing that he probably looked like a mess compared to the others, and was glad to be headed to where he could clean up. Clyde was led to a basin filled with cold water, and the shackles on his wrists were attached to a chain dangling from the rafters. His arms were lifted up over his head, and the bit of cloth dangling between his legs was pulled away and discarded.

Clyde felt a blush creep across his face as he was exposed for everyone else to see. While he never made it a point to compare, he was only moderately endowed by the standards of his species. While hardly small by most standards, discerning buyers would frequently pass him up for a more "virile" stud. In the room filled with huge, older slaves, the horse felt almost diminutive.

A bucket of water dumped over his head brought Clyde out of his thoughts. Another slave - a bear even younger than himself - was tasked with cleaning the horse and making him presentable for his master. The bear silently scrubbed at Clyde's fur with a wet cloth, getting the grime and stink off him as best he could. Clyde looked down at the fellow slave, asking him if he knew anything about the person who purchased him - whether he was cruel or nice was only secondary to the anxiety of not knowing. The bear simply went about his work without a word, with Clyde not knowing whether it was for lack of knowing or lack of permission to say.

The bear patted at the inside of Clyde's thigh, indicating that he would need to wash between the horse's legs. Clyde blushed and shifted a bit in the basin as the slave scrubbed at his inner thighs. When the bear got to his bits, he gave a shy whinny as his sac and length were washed with the cold water. The other slave paid no mind, however - they were just another thing for him to wash - and went about his business with a completely blank look in his eyes. Clyde tensed up when the bear lifted up his tail to run the cold washcloth over his rear, washing between his asscheeks and lightly scrubbing his tailhole. The young horse blushed despite himself as his most intimate areas were bared and handled in front of everyone, but caught himself and simply lowered his head - a slave stable was the last place for modesty.

A second bucket of cold water dumped over Clyde's head signaled the end of his bath. He gave an appreciative, if a bit bashful, smile to the bear, who simply moved along to empty the dirty water in the washbasin for the next slave. A guard came by to usher Clyde to the pens, patting the horse on his rear to guide him along to where he would await his new master. Clyde had a new bridle fastened over his head, this one smelling of fresh, rich leather. His tail gave an excited flick at the prospect of a rich master pampering him, but he quickly shook his head, trying to get rid of the thought - no use getting his hopes up only to have them dashed. Clyde was secured to a post, which he leaned against while he fidgeted and fretted.

It took almost an hour for paperwork to be filed, money to change hands, and superficial pleasantries to be exchanged before the door to the outside of the stable opened. Clyde immediately jumped to his feet, straightening up with his hands hanging at his side, presenting himself to his unknown master.

A white fox approached the nervous horse, clad in a white overcoat covering an expensive-looking black and grey outfit. Accompanying him was a heavy-set wolf, easily recognizable to everyone in the pens as the "boss". The fox wore a dark pair of sunglasses and carried an oak walking cane in his paw. He calmly approached the horse and looked him up and down, tilting his head and walking around Clyde to inspect him from every angle.

"Well then," the fox finally spoke, "Everything seems to be in order."

"Everything's accounted for," the wolf confirmed, untying Clyde and handing the fox the reins, "I'll just grab a breechcloth for him to wear until he gets to your estate."

"That shan't be necessary." The fox said simply, taking Clyde's reins, "I'll be taking him as-is, if you don't mind."

The wolf shrugged casually and turned away, presumably to lead more new masters to their purchases. The fox smirked and placed his paws in his coat pockets, turning around.

"Come now, my carriage is across town, but I have a few stops I'll need to make along the way. I'm Vince, but you are to address me as 'sir' or 'master'. Custom dictates that I give you a name myself, but I'm terrible at coming up with good names, so what name do you come with?"

Clyde blushed at the prospect of being paraded around town without clothing. While it was not illegal for slaves to be nude in public, it was still uncommon for the most part for a master to bring his slave in public without any adornment. The young horse shifting nervously before walking along with his new vulpine master, "I'm Clyde, sir..."

"Then Clyde you will remain," Vince affirmed, strolling out with Clyde's reins in paw, "Come now, the sooner we get these done with, the sooner we can head to your new home."

Clyde nodded as the two set off. The horse blushed as he felt eyes on him, but nobody paid him any more mind than they would any slave being led around. Vince kept the least rolled in his paw, wanting his new buy close by him at all times, not that Clyde particularly minded. The fox had a pleasant smell to him that Clyde couldn't quite place, but found relaxing - lavender, maybe? Every now and then, the young horse would start looking around, losing himself in the crowded streets. A quick tug on his reins would jolt him back, though, bringing him quickly back to the fox's side. Before long, they came to a small shop at the corner of two streets. Clyde couldn't read the sign hanging above, but he could see through the window that it was some sort of leatherworking shop.

"You'll wait out here," Vince instructed as he tied Clyde's reins to a post right outside the door, "Need to put in an order for a harness for you. And a proper bridle, not that lousy one that came with you."

"Don't I need to come in?" Clyde asked, tilting his head in confusion, "I mean... doesn't he need my measurements?"

"No need," Vince said, patting the folder of paperwork the slavers had given him, "I see no reason to doubt the ones you came with."

Clyde nodded as Vince walked inside. The horse blushed and placed his paws over his flaccid length, feeling very conscious of everyone around him without his new master present. People passing by didn't seem to care much, but the occasional one lingered to look the horse up and down, causing Clyde to whinney nervously. His tail flicked around behind him as he leaned over, only able to catch glimpses through the window of his master talking to a rhino behind a counter.

"Well now, what've we got here?" a voice behind Clyde made him jump. He looked back and saw a pair of large stallions, wearing expensive-looking loincloths and gold-plated slave collars. They had their arms crossed across their chests as they sneered down at the much smaller horse.

"What's the matter, master too embarrassed to be seen with a little pony like you?" a paint horse asked with a laugh, pulling Clyde's arms away, "I sure would be - probably was looking to buy a mare and just got confused."

Clyde yelped and struggled against the large stallion as the grey one reached in and groped at his sac. He let out a frightened whinney as he managed to wriggle free of the Paint's grasp, falling backward against the side of the building.

"Heh, what an idiot." The Paint laughed, "You even got a name yet?"

"His master probably named him after himself," the Grey joked, "Shit-For-Brains is a fitting name, right?"

"Don't be so immature. It's probably something like Butt-Stallion." The Paint teased, towering over Clyde.

Cylde scooted back as far as he could against the side of the building, trembling beneath the two large horses. With his lack of size, there was little he could do against the larger horses besides squeeze his eyes shut and cover his face with his arms. Before anything worse happened, however, a loud crack made Clyde's eyes shoot open to see the Paint clutching his cheek and growling in pain.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Vince asked, a riding crop in his paw. While the two horses stood a full head taller than the fox, Vince's teeth were bared as he held the crop up threateningly "Or do I need to track down your owners and have them remind you of your place? Get the hell out of here, or I'll give you some of the discipline your owners have clearly been slacking on."

The Paint glared at Vince, but thought better about doing anything that his master would make him regret later. He turned on his hooves, muttering obscenities under his breath as Vince knelt down to help Clyde back up.

"I trust they didn't hurt you?" Vince asked, dusting off the horse's thighs and putting his sunglasses back on.

"N-no sir." Clyde said meekly, still a bit shaken from the experience. He stood back up, giving Vince room to undo his leash from the post. It was then that Clyde noticed the small bag in his master's paw.

"Just a little something for the trip home." Vince said with a sly grin before Clyde could ask, "Why don't we head that way now?"

Vince gave Clyde a light pat on the rear with the tip of his crop, eliciting a blush from the horse. He stayed close to his master as they walked through the streets, looking back over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed by a pair of angry horses. Before long, however, they came to a covered carriage with a scrawny ferret for a driver. Vince tossed a coin the ferret's way and opened up the door for Clyde to enter.

"It's a couple hours back to my estate. I figured I'd bring you there myself, rather than having you shipped off."

Clyde blushed and nodded, climbing into the carriage and taking a seat on a velvet cushion. Vince climbed in after him, and the carriage was moving before he could even sit down. The fox folded his sunglasses and placed them in his coat pocket before reaching for the bag he had brought with him. Clyde said nothing, simply sitting with his paws folded over his crotch.

"Well? Aren't you going to ask?" Vince asked with a grin.

"Ask, sir?"

"About your little present?"

"Oh," Clyde blushed, his ears perking up, "Wh-what is in the bag?"

Vince chuckled a bit and pulled out what looked at first to be just a tiny ball of fabric. He unfolded it to reveal a pink thong. The waist seemed more like a suggestion of a waistband, and the pouch in front was smaller than anything Clyde would have thought would pass as clothing. Vince saw the horse's eyes widen, and placed his paw in the front of the garment and tugged on it, showing how elastic it was.

"I'm pretty sure it'll fit you. I went a couple sizes too small, but I'm sure it'll do." The fox teased with a wink, "Now come over here so I can help you try it on."

Clyde blushed a deep red, nervously standing up and stepping toward his master. The fox leaned forward and held the undergarment open under the horse, who stepped into the legholes nervously. Vince gave a small murr as he pulled the thong up, dragging his fingers along the horse's lightly-muscled thighs as he went until he reached Clyde's crotch.

"Definitely a good size," Vince cooed as he took hold of Clyde's sac, rolling his balls between his fingers before guiding them into the stretchy fabric pouch, "Horses have such a tendency to be so huge it's hard to do anything practical with them."

Clyde just chewed on his lower lip nervously, not sure what to make of the compliment of his lack of size, "Th-thank you, master?"

Vince just chuckled, pulling the tiny undergarment up the rest of the way, having to tuck the horse's length into the pouch. Clyde felt his cheeks burning as the fox lightly stroked the back of his paw over the bulge in his new underwear.

"Come now," Vince said with a grin as he pulled the small horse down, guiding him to sit in his lap, "You at least deserve the best seat in here while we go."

Clyde just bit his lower lip nervously, positioning himself as comfortably as he could in his master's lap. The soft fabric rubbed against him in ways he was hardly used to, cradling his bits as comfortably as a velvet-gloved paw. The young horse blushed as he felt his length starting to swell, stretching the tight fabric even more.

"I see you're enjoying your gift," Vince acknowledge with a sly smile, stroking a paw up the horse's thigh, running his fingers along the waistband of his pet's thong, "That's a very special fabric, designed to hold you just right. Though you may find it takes some getting used to."

Clyde whinnied softly, his hands folded meekly in his lap as his master's paw pressed against his bulge, kneading at it lightly as his growing length was held down by the tight underwear. He winced a bit and tried shifting his hips, but only served to arouse himself further.

"I think my little horse needs something, doesn't he?" Vince laughed, slipping his paw into Clyde's thong and gingerly pulling his firm length out, giving in a squeeze, "I think I can find a good way to pass the trip."

Clyde tensed up and shuddered as the fox stroked his paw up and down along his length, gasping as he pressed his thumb against the tip. Touching oneself in that way was strictly forbidden in the slave pens, and Clyde had always been passed up for a position as a stud. To have his master stroke him so was completely unusual for him, but he could hardly complain. Unsure of how to conduct himself, the horse tried his best to hold still as his master pawed at him, but Vince just patted him on the flank.

"You seem quite pent up," the fox reassured him, "Enjoy it to the fullest."

Clyde shuddered and started to roll his hips up into his master's paw, moaning and closing his eyes as the fox stroked his length. Vince gave the young horse's ass a firm squeeze, slipping a finger under the rear strap of his underwear to press at his tailhole. Clyde gasped at the feeling, flicking his tail around as he grasped onto the fox's shoulder.

Vince murred softly and leaned in, sniffing at the horse's neck as he stroked at his pet. Despite being washed down, the smell of the slave pits remained on him - a thorough bath would be needed once they reached his estate. All the while, Clyde moaned and whinnied, bucking his hips upward into his master's paw, finding himself completely lost to the feeling as a finger slipped into his tailhole.

As he leaned back into Vince, parting his legs and thrusting upward, the carriage stopped abruptly, causing the horse to stumble forward as he was jarred back into reality. The fox grumbled to himself and leaned his head to look out the window.

"Well now... it seems we've reached your new home," the fox said somewhat disappointedly. He slid his finger out of the horse's rear and wiped it on a handkerchief, "Sorry for the abrupt ending, but I'm sure we can finish this another time."

Clyde blushed and nodded, bringing himself to his feet and trying his best to tuck his still-hard length back into his tiny excuse for an undergarment. Vince just chuckled at the attempt and pulled the front pouch over him, making an almost comically-sized tent in the front as the door to the carriage swung open, letting the evening sunlight in.

The fox climbed out and extended a paw to Clyde, helping the young horse clumsily stumble out, blushing deep red as he found himself nearly naked with a full erection in front of a massive house with a small crowd of slaves gathered in front, all staring right at him.

"Well then," Vince smiled, ushering Vince toward the front door, "Shall I introduce you to your new friends?"