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Trotter

You're the appaloosa sitting at the bar drinking your fourth glass of whiskey. It's been a rough night for you. It's the day after your eighteenth birthday and your first night coming to the Mother Lode. Your young body is filled with a mix of nervousness and confidence. You started working at the ranch when you were fifteen, and ever since then you have overheard all the things they say happen at this local gathering place. Tonight, you plan to get a story or two of your own and really show the other ranch hands that you can sit in on all the "man talks" they have.

You look at the mirrored shelving on the other side of the bar. You think you're a handsome young stallion. However, things are not going how you expect tonight. You have been rejected by every woman you asked to be in your company. It is just not fair. The years of working on the ranch have given you a good amount of muscle tone as well as a lot of skills a man needs in your day: carpentry, roping skills, animal care, business skills. Tonight your dressed in a black long-sleeved button up shirt, black workpants, black boots, a black cowboy hat; emphasizing your brown fur and black mane, while hiding all your white blotches except for the thin one stretching from your forehead to the tip of your shout. Something about you just drives the girls away, and you know exactly what it is.

The first girl you talked to took you to one of the upstairs rooms. You were so excited that you immediately unbuckled your belt and unzipped your pants, revealing your flaccid but rapidly hardening eighteen-inch cattle prod. The girl left the room without as much as a word. After you tucked your manhood away and redid your pants, you walked out of the room. You saw her down in the main hall talking to some of the other girls and pointing in your direction. Word spread around to all the show girls and prostitutes in saloon.

Now, no gal wants to even talk with you. However, that is not even the worst part. You know that a lot of the men in the saloon saw you walk in and immediately back out of the room. You can only imagine what they are saying about you. You've seen few of them snicker and laugh in your direction. They must be questioning how much of a man you really are.

You sit, dejected, at the bar, wondering if you should just leave right now and come back after everyone gets too drunk to even remember you. You feel a pat on your shoulder. You turn your head to see the sheriff giving you a knowing smile, picking your spirits up a little bit. You look over to see a beautiful, buxom avian showgirl by the piano. You shift to get out of your seat and ask her for her company, but she's eyeing three dandies who just entered the establishment. In despair, you turn back around to the bar and order another whiskey instead. As you grasp the glass in your hands and shotgun the whole thing in one gulp, someone takes a seat beside you.

"I saw what happened with ya and that gal earlier t'night." The voice is one you don't recognize.

You respond, full of agitation and whiskey, "I don't think that's any of yer business, sir." You look up to see who the voice belongs to.

It's another horse. His white body, and light brown mane shimmer from the sweat on his person. He's wearing a dark grey three piece suit, with black dress shoes and a gold pocket watch attached to his pants. By the look of him, you can tell he's a salesman, and that he has just gotten out from a good time in one of the bedrooms himself.

"Now, I'm not meanin' any harm, chap." His voice is cheerful. "I'm a horse too, if'n ya can't tell. And I know how hard it can be for the ladies to accept our size as it were." He stops to take a drink of his liquor and wipes away a few drops that stick on his face. "I think I got a solution ta yer problem." He pulls a clear bottle of green solution out of his jacket pocket. "Thanks ta this tonic, my luck with the ladies has never been better." He winks at you while a smile crosses his drunk face.

You look wide eyed at the bottle he is holding. Your thoughts begin to surge. If I can get that stuff, I can get a girl. If I can get a girl, I can have a good time. If I have a good time, I can have a good story. And if I get a good story, I can finally show the older ranch hands that I really am a man. Unable to contain your excitement, you ask to the gentleman, "Sir, What do I have to do to get my hands on that tonic?"

Impressed by your enthusiasm, he replies, "Not a thin', young man, not a thin'." He places the bottle into your willing palm. "I hate ta see a young horse go without."

You manage to keep your excitement down, so not to give evidence to any of the rumors that may be going around about you. "How does it work?"

He leans in and whispers into your perked up ear, "Just get yer gal to drink the tonic, and even the daintiest li'l thin' will be able to take ya in. It even works on men." He heartedly laughs and gives you a wink and a pat on the shoulder before getting up to leave.

You decide to ignore the comment about men and stand up to shake his hand. "Thank ya, mighty kindly, sir."

He accepts your gratitude and walks away. You see something wiggling around in the seat of his pants. Something that looks like the arm of an octopus pops out of his tail loop. You rub your eyes, and you look again to see it's gone. You must have had too much whiskey.

Getting up from the stool at the bar, you look around for a lady--young or old--to have a good time with. The prospect of the mystery horse's tonic helping you get your big ol' snake deep in a bush has given you a renewed vigor. Your eyes scan around the room, looking for any good candidates for your first time.

There she is, standing at the other side of the room. Clad in a tight one-piece dress that fits her curvaceous, well-proportioned, hourglass shaped figure. The fabric is stretched around her breasts to the point of almost tearing, and you are surprised that she can even breathe without the entire garment ripping down the middle; not that you would mind that anyway. She is a cow girl with classic black and white patterning on her fur and ivory colored horns projecting from above her ears.

She's bidding a patron of hers goodbye, so you decide to take your chances to occupy her company before she moves on to someone else. You make your way across the room, mentally preparing yourself for whatever may happen. When you are just a few feet away, she spots you, her eyes moving down to your tight, black pants. She gives you a wink and motions for you to come closer. You think that maybe she has not heard about your sizable quality from the other women in the saloon.

As soon as you get next to her, she greets you with, "So is it true, stud? Is it so long, ya could use it as a kickstand?"

You freeze and blush a deep red, your confidence, giving way to nervousness. You avert your eyes downward and stammer in response, "I-it's...Well...I-I-I'm..."

She laughs at the apparent anxiety in your reply. "Sugah, I can tell it's yer first night here at the Mother Lode. And, by yer reaction, I'd venture a guess that the rumor is true." She lets out a snort. "My name's Carla, Sugah, and I do like 'em big. And you are?"

You let out a fake cough to regain your composure, and you use a deep voice to sound manlier. "I'm Trotter, ma'am. I'm a local ranch hand. I just turned eighteen yesterday, and..."

"Now, now, Sugah, Carla knows the story. Let me guess, ya've heard the older ranch hands talk about the fun times ya can have here, right?"

You shyly nod in confirmation.

She stands up and leans towards you, giving you a good view of her dirty pillows. She places a digit on your chest and says, "Then hows about we get upstairs and get ta know each other a little better; we can even see about givin' you a story of yer own to tell the other men at the ranch.

"Yes, ma'am," you reply as your eyes widen from the sudden offer. Usually it's the man that makes such suggestions, but you are not going to complain. As she sexily saunters away, you follow her up the stairs, closing the door to the room you both enter.

After you close the door, she declares, "Ya don't have ta be so formal, stud. Jes call me Carla. We are going to be getting to know each other really well shortly," as she runs her hands over your chest and down your belly.

You can feel your horsehood stirring in response to her touch. There wasn't much room for your package in your pants to begin with. Now it is getting downright cramped in there, and you fear that you are about to scare another one away. Her hand finds your prize, and she traces its stiffening length along the inside of the leg of your pants.

"Wow. The other gals weren't foolin'. Ya really are quite the handful. Ya jes may be too much."

You are getting flustered now and need to get her to drink the tonic before she finds out how big you can really get. "Thank ya ma'am, I mean Miss Carla. I was wondering if ya would like a drink first before we...uh... before we get to know each other better."

She laughs. "We'll ain't ya just the charmin' devil. I'll get us a bottle of champagne. I jes love the way them bubbles tickle my nose. You get those clothes off and git yerself into the bed. I'll be right back." She giggles as she leaves and shuts the door.

You remove your shirt, socks and boots but decide to leave your pants on until you can get her to drink the tonic. You stay standing so you can take control of the drinks when she gets back. She returns with a bottle and two glasses and is disappointed to find you are not naked in bed.

"Are ya really that shy, Sugah? I sure hope a big stud like ya ain't gonna let me down t'night."

"No, ma'am. I mean, yes, ma'am, I am a bit nervous, but no, I won't let you down."

She laughs again so hard she makes a snorting noise with her nose. "Yer so cute." She places the glasses and the bottle on the table and hops onto the bed. "Pop that cork, and pour us some of those bubbles so we can git this party started. A little liquor does wonders fer calmin' nerves."

"Yes, ma'am," you reply as you work on removing the cork.

"Carla, Dear. Calling me ma'am makes me sound old. I ain't much older'n you, jes a mite more experienced." The cork explodes out of the bottle and ricochets off she ceiling. Carla laughs again with a snort and asks, "Are ya gonna pop Jes like that, Sugah?"

You spill a little of the champagne you are pouring when you think about what is coming up, and your pants get uncomfortably tight for the same reason. Shielding your actions with your body, you pour the tonic into her glass, then top off your glass to make them look the same. Approaching the bed, you hand her the tonic infused champagne as you sit next to her on the bed. She instantly downs half the drink and belches lightly. This induces another round of snorting laughter from her.

You try the champagne and find it strangely dry and tangy yet sweet. The whiskey you were gulping earlier was like fire. This is more like soda pop. You greedily finish the glass.

Her laughter subsides, and she becomes more serious. "This is really nice of you, Sugah. Most of my clients don't talk or do nothing but git right down ta business." She runs her hand slowly around your back as if connecting the spots, then runs her fingers through your long black mane. "It's almost like the real thing with someone you...." She sighs, leaving her thought unfinished and drains her glass instead, then hands it to you as she kneels behind you with her ample breasts pressed against you broad shoulder blades and her arms over your shoulders. "Would you git a girl another glass, handsome?"

"Certainly, ma'am... I mean, Miss...I mean Carla." She has another laughing fit and falls backward onto the bed as you move to the table and refresh both your drinks. When you turn around, she is already disrobing, and her upper half is completely bare. You are stunned by her large, well-formed breasts with their black, oval nipples. They bounce and sway in the most amazing manner. You are mesmerized by the motion and can only stare, entranced, as she slips off the rest of her clothes to reveal more of the wonders beneath.

"Don't jes stand there a gawking, Sugah. Put those glasses down on the nightstand where we can find them when we need them. Now, get yer pants off, or I'll take 'em of fer ya."

She looks you over with a lustful gaze as she kneels on the bed with her arms behind her head so those delicious tits are fully displayed. You are so hard now from looking at her curvaceous, ample body that your pants are making things too painful for you anyway. Well, you think, if the potion is gonna work, then this is the real test. You unbutton your pants and bend over as you peel them and your underwear off simultaneously. Standing back upright, your huge, rigid shaft stands straight out like a canon, and almost as threatening.

She drops her hands down to her thighs almost as if trying to protect herself from your weapon. " Holy shit!" She covers her mouth with one hand while the other moves down to lightly cover her snatch. "Pardon my French, Sugah, but I thought the other gals was exaggerating. Wow! Yer gonna have ta let me ride on top if ya want anything beyond some lip service. Speaking of which, why don't ya come lie down here on the bed, and I can do jes that."

You eagerly comply, secretly hoping to go farther than that. As you lie down next to her, you wonder exactly what the tonic is supposed to do. Does it make her more compliant? Does it make her bigger down there to accommodate mah over-sized manhood?

Your thoughts are interrupted by her warm breath as she places her snout in your left ear and whispers, "Yer gonna love this, Sugah." She then playfully licks your face and snout and kisses you on the mouth, giving just little bit of tongue. Moving down your body, she pauses at your nipples, and you involuntarily shudder from the ticklish sensation. She makes a low sound between a moan and feral cow's lowing.

"Jes as I thought. Sensitive. I'll go slow, so you don't lose it too fast."

Gods. You feel like you are about to lose it soon anyway, and she has not even touched your privates yet. Just the attention she is giving you is so erotic to your young, inexperienced psyche that pre-cum begins to ooze out the end of your cock, forming a pool up above your belly button. When she notices your little love puddle, she glides down to start lapping it up. You have to grab the sheets tightly in your fist and clench all the muscles in your body to forestall your climax. Your eyes are so tightly clenched shut that you fail to notice she has stopped being a tease and is watching you with a smile on her face.

When you do finally open your eyes, she says, "Ain't ya never cum before?"

You are a little embarrassed about whacking off so much in your free time, but something about laying naked with a woman who is about to put her mouth on your dick makes you think that secrets like that are pointless to hide.

"Yes, Miss...Yes, Carla, I have...lots of times. Jes never with a gal before."

"So, I am yer first. Well, I think the best thin' is ta get you off right away. A young stud like ya will be up again in no time. Then, we can get to the really good part. So, ya can jes take it easy now and not clench no more cause I ain't gonna hold back."

Without another word, she places her lips on the round flat head of your cock, gives it a wet kiss, and proceeds to stretch her lips over its circumference until an inch or two is inside her mouth. Despite her advice, you are still trying to hold back your orgasm, with ever increasing difficulty. You last nearly a minute of the intense, luscious warmth of her mouth before curling up in a stomach crunch and moaning " Aaaaahhhh ," as you start to shoot your load.

A true professional, Carla does not pull off. Instead, she tries to take everything you give her. It's to no avail as your cum starts to ooze out from between her lips to run part way down the long shaft of your horse dick before dripping onto your belly in large creamy puddles. When you are done, she releases you from the soft embrace of her tender mouth and smiles a gooey smile at you while wiping her face with the back of her arm.

"Ya could fill a bucket, Sugah," she says as she reaches for her glass of champagne, takes some in her mouth and swishes it around to clean her palate. In order to reach the glass she slides over you, and her moist pussy comes to rest just an inch above your snout. You inhale the intoxicating aroma, and, unconsciously, your tongue leaps out of your mouth for quick lick along the opening between her pink folds.

She shudders in response and presses her moist opening down on the end of your broad snout. You lick more and find you like it. The taste is indescribable, but the smooth silky texture and the convulsive reactions your tongue gives her enhances your pleasure tenfold. You can already feel yourself getting hard again; a thing that usually takes at least an hour after you and your hand are done with their fun.

You find a spot near the top of her opening tucked in among the folded skin where a small hard button rests. Licking there elicits moans and gasps from the cow girl, so you focus your attention on it. You are surprised as it grows larger. You have been told things about sex from the other stallions, but this is a surprise. No one ever said that gals could get anything long and hard. You take it in your mouth initially, and suck on it, but it soon becomes too long. You spit it out, then you get a good look at it. It's a weird greenish purple color and vaguely reminiscent of something you have seen before. As it continues to grow, you realize this looks just like what your thought you had hallucinated with the salesman. Pushing the cow girl off of you to land roughly on her back on the bed, you sit up.

"What tha hell's goin' on here?" you demand, but she only laughs. However, now it's not her laugh anymore. Déjà vu strikes again as you place that laugh as belonging to the salesman who gave you the tonic. The tentacle like thing continues to grow from her clitoris. Nothing about this situation is erotic anymore, and your proud staff is shriveling back into its sheath. The tentacle plays over your prick as if trying to work you back up into arousal. You jump off the bed and back yourself against the wall. The tentacle grows longer, following after you.

"Keep back!" you exclaim as the tentacle waves in front of you like a cobra prepared to strike. Carla, or whatever she has become, gazes at you with a lustful and predatory grin. You slowly edge towards your clothes as the tentacle follows you, keeping its distance but not letting you get away. Reaching into your pile of clothes, you pullout your knife and wave it in front of you.

"I'll cut ya if ya get any closer!" you manage to say before the tentacle responds by flashing forward like a whip, painfully knocking the knife form your hand. You have had enough of this creepiness and run for the door. Before you get there, the rubbery appendage that has been pursuing you forms a lariat by tying off to itself and neatly lassos you around your arms and waist just like you do when managing the cattle on the ranch. The irony of a cow lassoing a horse is not lost on you. Despite your strength, the appendage around your waist cinches down with incredible force for something that feels like rubber. Your arms are pinned, and you are being dragged back to the bed. You try to shout for help, but as you do another tentacle from behind wraps around your face and into your mouth like the bit of a feral horse's bridal. Your words are instantly muffled.

Impossible as it seems, more tentacles wrap all around your body. You are lifted off the floor, despite your bulk, and carried through the air to be laid on the bed by the Carla creature. You cannot move or speak, but you can still see and hear. As Carla lays immobile, the many tentacles extruding from above her vagina caress you and alternately rub and squeeze your body.

Carla's lips move, but the voice that escapes is nothing like hers and everything like that of the salesman except as if it was heard in an echoing cavern. "I am Xanthoole, a being from another dimension, and far beyond your understanding. I think you are intelligent enough to understand the connection between the tonic and what is happening here. By giving that bit of my essence to your cow girl companion, you have allowed be to take possession of her body for a brief time, although it may not seem brief to you.

"I am not here to hurt you. In fact, it's quite the opposite. My kind feeds on the emotions and tensions of other sentient beings. To me, sexual tension is the most flavorful and filling of all of these emotions. Tonight, I am going to take you to the very brink of maximum ecstasy as many times as I can, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. I suggest that you try to enjoy this as much as I will."

As the eerie echoes of its voice fade, a tentacle wraps itself about your flaccid sheath while another with little pseudo fingers massages and pulls your limp but still impressive cock out for inspection. You are too scared to get an erection, and consider yourself fortunate in that regard until another very thin tentacle about the diameter of a pencil moves towards the tip of your member and slowly begins to slide inside.

You try to scream in the anticipation of pain, but can't with the tentacle gag in your mouth. You try to bite down on it, but it yields beneath your strong jaws and teeth and springs back to fill your mouth the instant to let up on the pressure. As you whimper in the continued expectation of pain, you find there is none; just and odd and vaguely ticklish sensation. You feel the progress as the semi rigid probe continues inside. There is nothing in the shape or the motion of the tentacle outside your dick that lets you know that it is moving. Everything you deduce about its progress is internal as this forced penetration finds its way deeper inside of you until you are certain it has passed beyond the base of your cock where it begins to wiggle and push against something inside of you that makes your cock stretch to its full eighteen-inch length.

You cannot believe how your body is responding to this horrible invasion. You imagine this backwards invasion of your member may be similar to what a female might feel when penetrated. That very thought drives you deeper into the abyss of desire and lust. Unconsciously, you move your tongue under the base of tentacle muzzling your muzzle. "Good boy," the creature says from Carla's mouth in response to your efforts. Every few moments, you feel just an inch away from your sexual climax, only to for the creature to momentarily cease its movements and let you come down from the apex of bodily pleasure. The thin tentacle invading your prick continues its work, taking you right to the edge of orgasm, over and over, until you feel you are going to shatter into a thousand pieces.

Just when you think you are becoming numb to the sensation, you feel a tickling in another region, and your anxiety level trebles. Beneath your tail, another tentacle is lightly caressing around the rim of your equine butthole. You stop working your tongue and start to resist the rude bit of rubbery flesh, clenching your ass cheeks together and pushing yourself down harder onto the bed, but the tentacles easily lift you back up and bend your legs and knees upward towards your chest exposing your rear to its tentacle mischief. You feel a hard lash from the tentacle that was playing at your unused entrance. The tentacle in your mouth drives itself a little deeper into your throat, to remind you that screaming and pleading are useless.

"I'm not above using a little force to get what I want," the tentacle beast declares to you in a commanding voice. "I can tell you like what's happening to you. Now, be a good boy and stop resisting."

Tears are forming in your eyes and you can only offer muffled whimpers knowing what's surely coming. You feel moisture, some kind of slime, from the tentacle slowly coating you around your anus. Minutes of this pass until you begin to wonder if it really does want what you think, so you begin to unconsciously relax as the sensation remains the same. You immediately realize this is your undoing as the probe enters quickly, sliding inside you. You are too late to squeeze shut and only meet resistance against and seemingly ever expanding probe. You can't see it, but you feel it grow so wide you are certain it will tear you apart.

Is this what a woman would feel with me inside of her, you wonder.

Giving in again to the invader now in your three holes of pleasure, you begin again to work your tongue: partly from lust, and partly to curry favor with the creature. The tentacle gagging you begins its own thrusting, almost pulling out of your mouth completely. So driven by lust, you don't even think to scream when it gives you a chance to do so.

"That's a good colt, Trotter." The tentacle now speaks with a voice of satisfaction. "Here's a small reward for your cooperation."

You feel warm, thin fluid shooting from the three tentacles invading your body. A hot, intense feeling of desire courses from your cock, ass, and throat to the rest of your physical being. As lustful, muffled moans vibrate your throat tentacle, the newfound sensation drives you to work your muzzle on it harder and faster. Your ass becomes hungry for the tentacle running constantly over your prostate, causing you to flex your anus in hopes of taking more in. You also begin to pump your needy, long, rock hard horsehood violently on the thin tentacle sounding it.

As the anal probe hits the spot within you that brings forth shuddering convulsions from your body, you realize you are in for another round of near climaxes. The beast doesn't disappoint. Again and again, you feel the edge of the jizz shooting orgasm you felt from Carla's mouth earlier, only to have the sensation stop just short of what your licentious, pleasure driven body desperately craves.

Just when you think your body can't physically respond to anymore sensations, the tentacles in your cock and ass quicken their tempos and your internal stimulation until every nerve in your body is firing out of control as if you were the electrical heart of a thunderstorm. At that moment, you don't just slip over an edge to a new awareness of pleasure, you explode through a barrier into a totally new dimension of orgasmic sensation. As the mouth and ass tentacles plunge as deep into your fragile body as they possibly can, the tentacle sounding your cock pulls out just as you feel the first contraction of your long overdue ejaculation. You note that the dick probing tentacle is much larger than a pencil as it came out and the size of a finger. You reason that this expansion of your urethra explains the amount cum erupting from the tip of your cock on just the first spurt. You lose count of how many times you cum and marvel at the volume of the creamy mess that flows from you more like a broken faucet the usual thin jets you have experienced before. Every stream of horse juice from your man canon brings you closer back to sanity.

After your cock's firing begins to trickle off, you breathe quickly as you try to calm down. The tentacle creature has yet to let you go. You feel the probe in your ass start up again, and the one wrapped around your ultra-sensitive member begins to pump the outside. The sensation is too much. You try to beg and plead but your muffled cries elicit no mercy from the creature. The slime it secreted in you forces a renewed sexual response that you could never have realized on your own.

"I'm almost done, boy," says your otherworldly rapists. "I'm just having a little dessert."

Your entire bod convulses from the sexual pleasure turned torturing pain. This time, it actually allows you some space to squirm in its grip. Tears flow faster than before from your helpless body as the torture goes on without apparent end until you spasm again but this time completely dry.

Then, your body is let go all at once. You lay flat on the bed as your violated frame jerks with every breath and tears stream from your eyes. You close your eyes and whimper from fear of what may happen next. You feel a few small tentacles gently wipe the tears away and caress your muzzle and chest until you calm down.

When you are done whimpering and open your eyes, you find that you are free to move your arms and legs again, though you lack the strength or will to do so. The tentacles have all retracted from around your body and left you to lay peacefully in the languid torpor of your post climax exhaustion.

In its echoing voice, the tentacle monster speaks from Carla to you again. "Thank you, Trotter. That was very fulfilling. I know that you enjoyed that nearly as much as I did. I must return to my own world now. Goodbye."

The room becomes quiet. You are still too tired even to think about moving. Eventually, Carla begins to stir, and sits up next to your limp body. Stretching her arms as though just waking up, her breasts jut out to maximum effect above her ample yet flat, curving belly and hips.

"What happened? Did I drink too much? Did we do it?" She feels her pussy and finds no sticky traces of sex. Looking at you she notices the incredibly huge, sloppy, white mess spread all over your chest and belly.

"Sweet mother of... Wow! You did this to yourself while I was asleep, Sugah?"

You can only groan in response. There is no strength left in your body for words.

She grasps your limp but still nearly eighteen inches of cock and tries futilely to stimulate it back to life. There is nothing left inside of you at the moment to respond. Giving up she lets it drop with a wet smack against your belly.

"Oh my," she says in disappointment, then has an epiphany. "Hey, yer one of those kind of guys aren't ya? Ya get me drunk and then service yourself, so ya can claim you slept with a woman. Damn! Shit!" She beats her fists on the bed causing her tits to wobble delightfully. "Why's it always the really big ones who like other men?"

You groan again, wishing you had the energy to fondle her tits and experience her as you desired earlier. Instead, you only manage to lift your hands up to cover your face knowing you will never live this down, and no one will believe the truth.