EQUUS AND ELF
by
Keith Peck


	In carnal dream he lay asleep, wrapped in a warm cocoon of 
blankets, a lithe Elf-boy, young and not quite innocent. 
	Frustrated eyes flicked open, brightness born under a shock of 
black hair. His nose breathed in huge gulps of air, and his soft lips 
parted; shadows shifted over his face. He looked like a diver, just 
surfaced, enjoying the very air. 
	The scent like a rich musk permeated the farm. A powerful smell,  
it obscured even the rutty smell of Konya, his brother, the odor of 
antler-crowned stud buck that he knew so well. But the smell that the 
Elf breathed was the scent of something powerful beyond even words. It

was the distilled essence of mighty male muscles, of the harsh sweat
of 
a god, of power and dominion. 
	His hand came up, covered his eyes, obscured the little lines that

a sudden frown drew across his forehead. His nose twitched in the
night. 
Nothing could overcome the secret odor, the one that called to him so.

Smell of thighs sweating. Smell of work in the hot sun. Smell of lust.

Smell of a stallion, running through a sunny meadow, kicking up weeds 
into a fog of gold. A stallion, running and running, his heart
pounding 
in the wildness of the moment, black mane streaming like a banner.
That 
was the source of this perfumed drug that filled the air - a mighty 
horse.
	The Elf moved his hand from his eyes, curled a bit of black hair 
round a finger, thinking and thinking - of the stallion. The white 
stallion had come like a ghost this very afternoon to his father's
farm, 
in the southern reaches of Konyamiand's Kingdom; the white stallion
that 
he had seen while he had been working in the fields. Its image hovered

in his mind. Idealized, it had no real shape - it was more a dream
that 
he experienced when he recalled the vision of the white stallion. That

afternoon, as the stallion had passed the Elf as he had worked in the 
fields,  the stallion had looked at him like no animal had ever done 
before. The stallion was an aryanlapt - god-blessed, intelligent as an

Elf, capable of speech with an Elves and with Horses. It had seen him,

not as a dumb beast would, but as ... he was too afraid to think the 
thought.
	He could not rest. He pulled the sheets down from his chest. 
Beauty revealed:  his chest, naked and defined, carved by years of
work 
in the hot sun. His groin, framing his phallus, swollen (maybe), fat
as 
a worm, dangling over his young testicles. He got out of bed, bent
over, 
grabbed a leather loincloth and wrapped it tight round his waist. The 
glories the Elf-boy hid like a sword sheathed, like a secret
delightful 
sin.
	He left the farmhouse, walking up the vapor trail. The night was 
quiet and still. All the farmhands were asleep. Behind him the house -

full of lusty father and lustier brother - faded, as if dark veil had 
been drawn over it. 
	Ahead loomed the stable.
	It was the center of the mighty musk. The stable was a sun, 
spreading cuddling rays to dependent planets. He was drawn to it.
	The horse, the horse.
	The Elf could smell him, the great white horse, tall as a lord, a 
shaggy mane like a ripping from the night sky. All that beautiful
smell 
washed around him. The Elf was the supreme battlefield. Chemicals
rushed 
around and through him, tangled with thoughts. He paused on the 
threshold of the stable. The odor wafted round him, nestling in his 
armpits, between his pectorals, in his boy-fragrant groin. He stood,
and 
thought, and trembled, a teenager drowning in a rage of hormones.
	With his foot he made a subtle motion - forward, onto the straw-
strewn floor of the stable. The dust of the courtyard brushed off his 
feet. Thought had won in him. The Elf-boy, just barely a man, slinked 
forward, a supplicant seeking immense richness, seeking a divine gift,

seeking communion with the gods. The odor was the pathway to the 
heavens.
	His link with the horse, his dark hair, black on unblemished white

skin, trailed lankly between his shoulder blades. His skin, smooth as 
polished alabaster, was like a shimmer of moonlight on a still pool.
His 
hair, black, shaggy, darker than shadow. The link was all-important
for 
what he now sought, the only reason he could think of to justify his 
petition.
	Naked chest gleamed like silver in the dimness, and two nipples 
like eyes stared out from cupped, firm pectorals. Across his washboard

stomach shadows rippled, a brook laughing over stone. Curls of black 
hair kissed his delicate, sweet navel, and descended in enticing line 
below the level of his kilt. Buttocks as ripe as swelling melons lay 
shrouded beneath the thick leather; a dark furrow split the twin
halves, 
from there (though the Elf was unable to smell it) came another 
wonderful smell, the perfect complement to the fragrance of the 
stallion. The Elf-boy's promised yielding, opening;  the stallion's 
proclaimed mighty, raging energy.
	Lusting air kissed his naked muscled thighs.
	Other horses were stabled there:  he knew their names. Huryada, 
Tyiript, Aulyor, horses only not aryanlapt. And ears picked up and
heads 
bobbed in surprise at his intrusion. But the Elf had no nose for them.

He breathed the air, electricity tickled his lungs. A sorcerer must be

nearby, stirring almond vapors into the magic air. The odor did not 
belong to these horses. It was the stallion that the Elf-boy sought.
It 
was his first quest into the heart of quivering magics, and it was the

vision that the odor brought, the wonderful thoughts of streaking 
through highland meadows, racing sunlight, hooves slicing through tall

dried grass ... and thighs pumping and pumping and pumping. The sweet 
smell:  sweat and musk.
	Then he stopped, a shadowed form in the dark, an Elf-boy caressed 
by lusting moonlight.
	The stallion more than justified the promise of the musk.
	Tall and proud it stood, luminous in its stall, a circle of 
pearlescent light around it. A god's hands had shaped the equine
marble 
of its muscles into a vision of beauty. Wash of odor like sweat
bursting 
out swept through the stable.
	Proudly, it tossed its head as it saw the Elf-boy. And it fixed 
dark eyes on him, and the boy, so tender, so young, so perched on the 
edge of the forbidden, was caught, lifted, spun around, and plunged
into 
the sweet welcome there. Gazes locked. The horse was the center of an 
engulfing storm. Its odor was sacred. The boy sucked in the odor and 
held it within in, carried along, drunk with the moment, too afraid to

speak.

* * *

	The stallion saw the Elven beauty outside his stall. And it was 
delighted, it would have smiled had the gods given it that ability. 
There was a wonderful, fiery tension in him; a jagged bolt of
lightning 
flashed from his heart to his groin. The boy had come.
	The horse had come this very day, to this farm, led by a guide 
from the city of Kyulon-Lirren. They had plodded (because the guide
was 
so slow) down a long, dusty, sun-drenched road, through the hills 
surrounding this little farm. It was in the outer fields that the
horse 
had seen this Elf, and it was in the outer fields that the horse had 
begun to lust after him. There the boy had been, so sweet, so tender,
so 
yielding, but so male - bent over in the fields, working, filmed by 
hard-earned sweat. The boy had looked back at him, into the stallion's

eyes. The stallion had seen through the layers of guilt and repression

to the boy's darkest, deepest, most hidden thoughts.
	The guide had plodded on, coming to the farmhouse itself. Deals 
were worked out, between farmer and the guide, and the stallion was
led 
into the stalls for bathing and cleaning. The horse had noted all the 
others there - horses, donkeys, even goats - and its genitals had 
swollen with the thought of all the equine strength he could take
here. 
Not a full erection, just a subtle statement of desire. But all his 
thought had been on the dark-haired beauty from the fields, and his
nut-
brown, tight body. 
	Now he was here, in the stalls, in the dark of the night, 
enraptured by the sight of the stallion.
	An equine tongue licked equine lips and a stallion's brain thought

ultramasculine thoughts. A stallion - the creature that sought to
reduce 
all the universe to a hole that could be filled by its ever-ready
never-
drained phallus. And this stallion, made by Aradd God of Love and sent

into the world to rule masculinity, had long ago conceived of a 
different task. This stallion had never  had an Elf sexually, its 
talents as a sexual machine had never been appreciated in
Kyulon-Lirren. 
All its desires, all its frustrations, it had vented into others of
its 
kind.
	But here was a boy, born on a farm, surrounded by the natural 
forces of the earth, entrapped by the lusty, easy power of animals. A 
country boy, a fusion of dirt, sweat, and song. 
	The stallion wanted to sink his phallus into poetry itself:  this 
Elf-boy.
	In silence the stallion watched as the boy at last moved and 
climbed over into his stall. He saw muscles bleed through the skin,
how 
the damnably tantalizing loincloth hiked up, how the lightly-furred 
teenaged testicles hung like sweet fruit between his thighs. The horse

sniffed, smelt the clean scent of the boy, his symphony of odors. The 
horse licked his lips with a shiny tongue. An electric tingle began in

the horse's mighty testicles; a thigh muscle twitched.
	Softly the horse moved to position himself. It was the equine 
pattern - do not reveal what the postulant seeks until the proper
time. 
He faced the object of his desire at a slight angle, presenting his 
right side, a posturing designed to reveal his strength but cloak the 
glories. The boy, with his loincloth wrapped tight round his
sweetness, 
was doing the same - good, the horse approved.
* * *
	The Elf-boy, caught up in the spell, felt his heart hammer and 
throb. He was forbiddingly excited. The musk like a syrup lay thick in

the air. His delicate nose sniffed it, caressed it with moist innards.

The scent was a tangle of ropes, all leading towards the horse's
secret 
places, the places it girded with shadow.
	The horse spoke, in a deep voice, lower than thunder. "Who are 
you?  And why have you come here?"
	The boy's tongue stuck fast. His name had been about to spill out,

for he must obey this lordly horse's commands. But the second
question, 
the bald demand, stopped his answer in his throat. The boy dreaded
what 
he had come for. He had his own question, but how to ask it?  What was

the ritual?
	"Who are you?" the stallion asked again.
	"I am - " the boy began, in a gentle boy's voice, his words silky,

loving. "I am Salanu."  An electric shimmer quivered his hair-kissed 
testicles.
	"Salanu," said the horse, slowly. "Salanu - it is a name worthy of

you. Now. Why have you come into my stall?"
	The horse's stall, not Salanu's father's stall. No, no, the horse 
was the master here. The master, on four strong legs, with ...
	The horse took a simple step forward, its radiance filling 
Salanu's upturned face. "Why have you come to me?"
	"Because you're so fucking beautiful," Salanu breathed, so 
teenager, so hormone-centered.
	"So people tell me. My name is Rihumme."  
	The horse craned his neck forward slightly, entering the space 
that belonged to the boy, breathing in the scent of Salanu (scared, 
exhilarated, elated). Rihumme the white stallion locked the boy deep 
into black eyes, enjoying the Elf-boy's beautiful face - the pattern
and 
curve of shadow upon parted panting lips. Enchanted the horse drew 
closer. His nostrils hovered onto a few inches from Salanu's
pectorals. 
No smell of sweat now, just boy unadulterated, so sweet, heavenly. The

stallion began to trail downwards through the aura of smell, sniffing 
nose dropping lower and lower. The smell of teenaged male Elf:
tendril 
of testosterone like an aphrodisiac, whiff of semen like a
hallucinogen. 
Rihumme was not looking at the boy now, his eyes closed. In  a world
of 
darkness he tasted the boy. The horse's questing nose dropped lower
and 
lower, beneath the lower edge of the tight loincloth. The scent
changed. 
Ambrosia. Rapture. The true odor of the boy.
	Salanu trembled as the horse inhaled him. He swirled into illegal 
dream. The hot breath of the horse was on his chest, then lower and 
lower. Blood gushed into his hot young cock.
	The horse opened his eyes. His nose was nearly between the muscled

thighs. He was staring at the shape of a tube, hidden beneath the thin

leather, and he was breathing Salanu's ball sweat and anal sweat. He 
could feel the boy's incredible tension. Rihumme's nose tickled with
the 
secret electricity Salanu emitted between his legs.
	The horse lifted his head. Something beautiful began to happen 
beneath the loincloth. Salanu elongated, awakened, stiffened into 
youthful power and glory.
	"Boy," said the horse, "why are you here?"
	"You're my fucking beautiful master."  He gasped the words. "I 
don't know what's happening ... " He trailed off, near tears from 
confusion.
	"Come see what's happening to me," the horse commanded. He turned,

stripped the shadows away from between his back legs, proudly
revealing 
himself to Salanu.
	Horse balls hanging, swollen, huge, covered with skin like 
leather, hair-studded, sweaty. Candy. Center of the smell, the horse-
musk that ruled the night. Twin wizards of masculinity, guarded on 
either flank by thick-muscled thighs. They commanded Salanu's
obedience. 
A flood of saliva filled the Elf-boy's mouth:  candy.
	The great cock lay sheathed in a leather scabbard, hanging beneath

the horse, a great weapon hidden yet fruitful with potential. Sweat 
dripped from it. Salanu wanted to taste that sweat. His knees weakened

at the sight of the royal penis. He wanted to kneel.
	But something began to happen.
	A pink dot appeared at the end of the sheath, like an eye opening.

A sliding nose, rustling, silk sliding on leather, as the dot 
lengthened, took on form, entered a second dimension. The horse was 
getting hard. Rihumme's eyes slitted over with the pleasure of getting

an erection. A snort escaped him as he felt the pure power of his
penis 
becoming hard. Like a snake wriggling from its hole the pink cock 
emerged, glistening, night air welcomes it. Long, hard, thick, inch 
after inch, equine powerful, mighty, on and on, as if it will never
in. 
Twenty-five inches of masculinity, the pride of the stallion.
	The horse was erect. So was its boy.
	Rihumme, white stallion, enjoyed the glorious energy that now 
blazed between his legs. His balls were heavy and silvery and steamy.
He 
must join, fate has decreed;  the stallion must mount. And enjoying
his 
erection he enjoys the sight of the Elf-boy, his agape mouth, his 
suddenly increased smell, the magic they made between themselves.
	"Oh ... oh ... oh," Salanu said, little chants, a little chant 
coming out of the eroticism of the moment. His eyes were slits, as if
he 
was seeing into a different realm.
	Rihumme's head again bent forward, his shiny horse-tongue emerged,

touched Salanu's left nipple which sprang instantly erect. Salanu
cried 
out in pleasure, but the  tongue swirled around still. The horse was
at 
last touching the Elf-boy. The tongue danced, Rihumme tasted his boy, 
his cock throbbed, a dripping sword sheathed in the air. The boy's
chest 
glistened as if dusted with diamond.
	Teenaged male Elf. O the power of testosterone. Salanu's eyes 
closed, and he sighed in rapture. A long fat tube lived in confined 
quarters beneath his black leather loincloth, an unsubtle sign of his 
arousal.
	Ball-musk, anal sweat of sweet boy, smell of erect stud stallion, 
all mingled in the night air.
	Salanu was in a trance. He was aware that the horse had ceased to 
tongue his chest, he could feel the presence of Rihumme's erection:
the 
very air crackled. He saw a glowing vision:  this splendid white
horse, 
its black mane its banner, racing across a golden meadow, its strong 
legs pumping, its mighty muscles contracting, Salanu on his back, a
part 
of the glorious image, naked, his own hair streaming, his thighs
clamped 
tight to the writhing mass that was Rihumme's back. O what perfection
to 
be part of nature, to join with it, to be its servant.
	Sweat streaked his dreaming face; he was on fire for the stallion,

its erect masculinity, for the seed boiling like molten silver in its 
swollen balls.
	"Boy," Rihumme said.
	A flood of precum burst from Salanu's penis. The horse was too 
erotic. He could not control himself. He had nothing but dreams
before, 
he had never been with anyone sexually. It was as if he had waited all

his fourteen years just for this one moment. He said, "Yes, oh yes?" 
drifting up out of  his trance.
	"What is your name?" The stallion asked this again; he was 
following equine ritual.
	"I ... I am Salanu."  He looked at the horse, its immense erect 
tool gleaming like a fat spear between its thighs. Salanu couldn't 
believe how huge the horse was. "Oh gods, what's happening?"
	"You know what is happening," said the aryanlapt, voice crooning, 
seductive. "Do you want it to stop?"  An easy question to ask, because

there was no danger of refusal. The boy's hunger sharpened his scent, 
made his desire  plain, made the night all the sweeter.
	"No, no ... but -"
	"You, boy, are in rut. You want this."  The horse twitched his 
twenty-five inch erection proudly. Rihumme felt its heavy blood-gorged

weight between his aching thighs. "You want me. I called to you, when
I 
smelled you this afternoon."
	"What did you smell?"
	An Elvish question, no mare nor a passive stallion would ever ask 
such a question. It was not part of the equine ritual - but here they 
were making a bridge, between Elf-boy and horse. A new service would 
have to evolve here.
	"I smelled a boy who trembled on the edge. Who was ready to become

a man. Who dreamt of - what his kind forbids. Who sought someone to 
bring that dream to life - and knew who that one was when he saw me. I

have been waiting for you, as you have been waiting for me. You are 
mine. You are for me. I am for you."
	"Are we to mate?"
	And with great pleasure the stallion noted that the Elf-boy had 
said mate, had not used an Elvish term - not fuck, not screw. He'd 
chosen the equine term, the term that another stallion who Rihumme had

selected to rut in would use.
	Rihumme caught the boy with his great dark eyes, those pools of 
night, and he saw a film of sweat glistening on the boy's upper lip
like 
fuzz of a peach. A strand of black hair - the boy's own dark mane,
their 
link - fell in delicate curves toward eyes now staring wide open at
the 
glorious spectacle of the aroused stallion. Rihumme looked at the boy,

gloried in the feeling his erect cock gave him. He wanted this. For so

long he'd sought to mate with masculinity, to drive his penis into it,

to mount it and make it his own  He had first given his penis to
mares, 
because that was all he knew. Then he had discovered that stallions 
lusted after him, and he had learned to give them what they sought:
his 
cock buried in their bucking asses, pumping and stroking them. But it 
was not satisfying, not completely. Masculinity was a teenaged Elf, 
beautiful as an orgasm. His quest was over, he had found the Grail.
	"Are we to mate?" Salanu repeated.
	"Yes," said the horse.
	Precum trickled down Salanu's sweating thigh.
	"You are my mate," said Rihumme.
	Salanu was swimming in a forbidden dream, drinking in the 
overpowering waters, surrendering to the death. "How?" he asked
blindly. 
"How?  How are we to mate?"  He had seen animals do it - but he never 
had done it. What was there to do, how was he to pleasure this horse?
	"Take your sarong off," Rihumme ordered. "I want to see what's 
mine."  The boy was in his power; the animal commanded. The boy was 
prisoned in the powerful smell roaring out from the erect stallion's 
swollen balls. A shiny droplet of precum appeared on the pink tip of 
Rihumme's arm-thick cock.
	Salanu stripped. His long Elvish prick at last revealed:  nine 
inches of glory, hard as a stone. It smacked up against his flat
belly, 
vibrant with new life. Its head was the color of a plum, the balls 
beneath swollen with silver seed. Gentle dark hairs, soft like the 
breath of a lover, nested round the root of his prick. Naked the
Elf-boy 
was glorious. An Elf, teenaged male, naked and erect for the erect 
stallion. Cool air kissed his thighs. A bead of moisture glistening
like 
a fragment of a star dropped from his armpit onto the hay.
	Salanu trembled, out of control, swirling out of reality into a 
fantasy he'd long desired. How he wanted this. What a spell
twenty-five 
inches of hard animal cock could work. The horse was the power of his 
universe, forgotten were family and friends, there was only this 
magnificent beast who stood revealed in all his lust for Salanu. The 
horse was the luminous center of everything, and Salanu moaned, 
irradiated with the prurient light streaming from the horse. He left
the 
realm of solitary fantasies, leapt from  dreams of the unknown male 
world into reality.  He was blazing a trail into a new world.
	Distantly, through his fogging excitement, he felt the horse's 
rough tongue begin to lick him again.
	"How?" he breathed. The horse was so close to him, so large, so 
lordly.
	"Do you want it?" Rihumme asked. The ritual. He pulled away from 
the tightly muscled chest. He looked at the beauty in front of him. 
Never had he had an Elf;  what a catch this one was. A droplet of
precum 
fell from his cock.
	"I want it."
	"There is a ritual to go through. You must complete it, with all 
your heart, with all your mind, before we may mate. You must say it
all, 
bring it all out of you, make it true."
	"Yes . . ."
	"Say you are in rut."
	"I am in rut."
	"Say you will be my mare."
	"I will be your mare."
	And the crowning gesture, the heart of the meaning of the ritual:

one slow pump of Rihumme's hips, an arrogant thrusting of his
gargantuan 
tool forward as if he was sinking its length into a luscious, phantom 
asshole. A slow demonstration of his power, of his dominance, of who
was 
the Male here.
	Rihumme said:  "Say you must mate with me."
	"I have to mate with you. I need to mate with you. Oh shit, I must

to mate with you!"  If he had any reluctance left in him, those slow 
pumps of the horse's hips would have erased it.
	With a voice of steel Rihumme commanded:  "Go get a stool."
	The Elf-boy went to the stall door, presenting his sculpted back 
to the horse:  the knobs of his spine, regularly spaced, the muscles
of 
his back spreading round it like the hood of a cobra;  the strong boy-
muscled thighs, virile, powerful. And Rihumme saw for the first time
the 
place that he would penetrate, the place that would open for a cock
for 
the very first time - the very unfeminine ass. Polished marble hard as

stone, tight, clasping as his guarding the portals to paradise. The
dark 
furrow kissed with the softest of black down releasing the scent of 
yielding and opening. 
	The horse drooled another drop of precum.
	Salanu grabbed the stool from outside, pulled it over the door. He

sat it down in front of Rihumme like an offering. He saw the horse's 
cock again. He whimpered, fearing and loving what he knew was to come.

He was a slave here, the horse was master. The horse and its boy; the 
horse and its mate.
	"Good," said Rihumme soothingly. There was a tinge of fear in the 
Elf-boy's odor. He did not want him fleeing - not now. "You are quick.

Do you want me still?  Will you still accept me in you?"
	Salanu said:  "I am in rut! Shit fuck shit, I'm in rut!"  He 
bounced back and forth from foot to foot, his cock too rigid to
vibrate, 
for it stood up tight against his flat belly.
	"Bend over the stool," Rihumme ordered.
	Salanu turned, bent at the waist, laying his saliva- and sweat-
streaked chest on the wooden grain of the stool. He spread his legs
wide 
in invitation. His dark hair flowed forward like a night tide across
the 
nape of his neck, into his impassioned eyes. All those visions, the 
farmboy lusts he'd had while growing into young manhood, those
forbidden 
things he'd imagined on hot nights when he'd had no relief except his 
fist and his fantasy - they were so weak, so pale, next to the vital 
reality of the horse, his master, Rihumme his stallion, standing just 
behind his opened ass.
	The stallion circled his bent-over boy once, examining him, 
strutting now, the conquest done, the victory his. The long cock 
protruded between his back legs glistened in the pale light, huge and 
powerful. Yes, this was his vision of the way it should be. An Elf, 
cheeks spread, waiting for Rihumme's monster penis, masculinity
offered 
up to the master of masculinity.
	He stopped behind the boy, bent his head forward again. His eyes 
closed; he guided himself in through the heavenly scent. His ears 
flattened against the sides of his skull. 
	Gently, he tongued Salanu's ass. O what a taste. The Elf-boy 
sighed in unimaginable rapture. The horse's tongue swept up the crack,

licking up sweat and scent of the boy. It was too much - he snorted, a

signal of his own pleasure.
	"Has anyone ever taken you here?"  His tongue slid up and down 
Salanu's crack, a loving eel of pleasure.
	"No ... no, they've wanted to, but I wouldn't let them ..."
	"I will take you here. I will be your first lover. I, Rihumme, the

stallion, will mount you and love you. I will join to you, horse to
boy, 
and you will be as a mare for me."
	"O, I will."
	"Are you my mare?"
	"I am your mare forever!  I am in rut!  I want to mate now!"
	So did Rihumme. It was time. It was time. The horse ritual over, 
the boy's surrender to his equine phallus was complete. He would take 
the boy. No more waiting.
	The horse's tongue licked Salanu's ass again, to ease the entrance

of the mighty organ. It probed between those hard muscled melons, 
licking up the crack to the base of Salanu's spine, slurping downwards

over the blazing hot and acrid asshole to the boy's fertile balls. 
Salanu spread his legs even wider, making the invitation more obvious.

The horse moved in closer, driving his nose between the boy's cheeks,

inhaling the scent while precum drooled off his mighty phallus in a 
continuous stream.
	Salanu in his ecstasy moaned. O how he wanted this. His innards 
itched with his desire. He needed the twenty-five inch cock, the
horse's 
pink male tool. The boy needed to mate with the animal, the boy was in

sexual heat, it was time. 
	The tongue was maddening as it caressed his secret places. It 
brought incredible pleasure to him, exciting electric pleasure. It 
touched the gates the stallion would breach, that hidden hole between 
his legs. Salanu wanted to be penetrated, opened;  he had to yield 
himself to the animal. "Now, now, now, make it now!"  
The tongue withdrew. The horse backed up to inspect his handiwork. The

ass was shiny with his spit. Precum trickled off Rihumme's glistening 
cock. The taste of the boy was in the horse's mouth:  almonds.
	It was time.
	The horse mounted the boy.
	Salanu felt himself enclosed in warm furry musculature. The ball 
musk assailed his nostrils. The horse was around him, above him.
	Something hot as a glowing coal prodded between his cheeks. He 
felt it maneuvering around, seeking his asshole. He shifted his ass,
to 
give it the access it demanded. He was a slave, to pleasure the
animal. 
Gently the horse entered.
	The cock pressed inwards. Pressure built up against the ring of 
muscle guarding his virginity. Salanu exhaled slowly, clenched his
eyes, 
relaxed. The sphincter opened - and opened - and opened. The mighty 
lance was entering. He pushed back, accepting the mighty length the 
horse was feeding him. Pop - something gave.
	Salanu screamed. The horse was inside him. 
	The horse paused, his apple sized prickhead pushed just inside the

clasping, mouthing anus, wedging it open. "Am I hurting you?"
	"NO!"
	Rihumme felt the tight ring of muscle clamping down on his length.

He no longer cared if he hurt the boy. He was master, he would take
his 
pleasure. He slid forward, moving in ever so slowly. The ring of
muscle 
travelled slowly up Rihumme's cock, like a tight clasping hang. The 
horse-cock sank slowly into moist heaven.
	Sublime, sublime, the sensation of being filled. The mighty 
instrument moved steadily into Salanu. His mouth hung open, agape at
the 
pleasure he felt.
	Rihumme eased into the Elf, slowly, carefully, withholding his 
full power. He stifled his urge to slam it to the boy, to shove his 
three feet of meat into the Elf-boy in one mighty blow. Inch by inch
the 
monstrosity of his cock slid in. The damp interior of Salanu's asshole

opened around it. It sank deeper and deeper up the back passageway, 
twisting and turning up the course of the intestines, massive animal 
cock thrusting aggressively deeper and deeper.
	"Ohhhhh..." Salanu moaned in delight. The horse was deep in his 
guts. The glory of the entry had gone on for minutes. Then he felt the

hot, hairy balls of Rihumme against his upturned butt.
	The horse was in the boy. Salanu hung impaled on cock. He had 
taken it all. The horse had taken his virginity from him. All the
world 
filled his asshole.
	"I am in you, Salanu," Rihumme said. Then he began to draw his 
phallus back, very slowly, feeling the mucous-lined walls go sliding 
past his length. He was powerfully in control of the boy. He could
hear 
the boy whimper his delight. 
	Rihumme pulled fifteen inches of cock out of the boy, till he 
could feel the boy's anal muscles clamp down, trying to shit the arm-
thick mass out. Then he pushed back in, using those powerful muscles
in 
gentle loving fashion, giving the boy what he sought:  beastiality,
and 
twenty-five inches. What a glorious feeling. Rihumme's cock again sank

in deep, till his balls met Salanu's white butt. Slick hot flesh
wrapped 
round his cock. The boy, spread-eagle, lay impaled on his cock.
	"Oh, yes," they said.
	Then out again, a little faster, the long tool slurping out of the

ass, pink flesh glistening. Salanu felt his guts close back up as the 
horse withdrew from his body. Then the horse ground forward again, 
faster, coming closer to the style of fucking he longed to give the
boy. 
He knew he must be gentle, till the boy's inside had adjusted to the 
mighty invader, but he wanted to writhe and buck and thrust and pant,
to 
churn in the boy, hips humping, flanks sweaty. But not yet, not yet,
not 
until the boy had truly become his mare.
	Salanu felt open, split, the mighty cock filling him with a 
burning erotic pressure. He gave his musky, secret interior to the 
lordly stallion and its cock, the thick throbbing cock. The long
thrust 
in till balls rested against his ass; long slide out, till he writhed
in 
a need-filled void. The rhythm of the fucking slowly quickened. Sweat 
streamed down his face; he began to buck his parted ass up at the
horse, 
loving the stallion back, showing his blazing need, revealing the
fiery 
nature of his rut. He was open, so open, to the thrusting, questing 
cock.
	Faster and faster Rihumme began to churn, his eyes clouded with 
lust. He felt Salanu reaching back to him, felt his heavy sperm-filled

balls bouncing against the Elf-boy's alabaster ass. He gloried in the 
fuck. His prickhead buried deep into the boy felt so fucking far away 
from him. The arrogant cockshaft shouldered aside Salanu's sphincter, 
arrowing in, erotic squishing noises coming from where stallion and
Elf 
joined. His balls ached, swollen with cum; how sweet and cool and
silky 
Salanu's butt felt against them as he drove his dick deep into the
boy. 
Rihumme took the boy and ruled him. He whinnied - purely equine, too
far 
gone into the fuck. He puffed and snorted, drove with his powerful
hips 
his fat twenty-five inch cock up the Elf's violated ass. Onwards and 
onwards he rose, toward bliss, churning faster, starting to loose his 
civilization, starting to throw into the Elf the fucking he desired.
He 
surrendered to the sensations streaming from his cock.
	Salanu clenched his fists, groaned as the horse began to slam 
shock wave after shock wave into him. He arched his back, felt the 
horse's belly rub against it. He could feel the huge prickhead of the 
horse churning somewhere deep in side up, riding up and down his dank 
guts. 
	"I am your mare, I am your mate," he muttered through clenched 
teeth, his lust turning the words into a growl. 
	Cock slammed into butt, his vision dimmed with the powerful 
thrusts. His own cock, so puny compared with the erect magnificence of

the horse, was stone-hard, dripping a sweet liquid. The horse stuffed 
again and again the slippery arm-thick phallus into his rectum. 	
	The pace picked up, the violence. Salanu reached back, enveloping 
more of the animal's cock with his tender body. "I am yours, I am 
yours."
	There Rihumme lost control. He let loose, becoming a mighty stud 
stallion, hammering a volley of thrusts into the slut boy he ruled, 
fucking his begging hole. Quick violent movements, pure animal, long 
cock a blur as it emerged and sank it. Loud grunting noises but no 
words, all necessary communication coming through the hard shaft the 
horse had between its legs. Fuck fuck fuck. Drive the meat in faster. 
The hot release was coming so close. The fuck ruled:  Rihumme
envisioned 
an endless line of dark-haired boys, all waiting for him, naked; he 
imagined mounting them all, one after another, slotting them with his 
ever-erect cock. He could hear Salanu's cries of pleasure. He drilled 
the boy's canal harder, rutting in his ass.
	 "More more more, O gods more, horse you fucking stud, slide it in

me slide it in hard ..."
	The horse was now fucking Salanu as if he was another animal. The 
thrusting power was absolute. Silver jism boiled in their balls, ready

to spill. Salanu pushed his spread ass back into the thrusts wantonly,

skewering himself on the shaft of pleasure, questing for more, ever 
more. Rihumme's balls beat a tattoo on his ass. The cock slammed into 
him. All around him the sweaty, heady smell of a fucking animal, 
muscles, penis, precum, balls, so close to the world's vital energy.
The 
cock sliced, butted into him.	
	Boy-riding horse slathered cock into spread ass, ramming 
powerfully forward, ruling with erect cock, trembling with illicit 
thrill, battering boy-butt with bloated balls.
	Horse-fucked boy yearned backwards into the rigid axis of the 
thrusts. The cock was a bridge - horse and Elf united.
	"Ahh ... shit shit fuck, horse, stud, lord ... I'm coming   -"  
	Salanu cried out, fingers curling into a fist. A hot fire blazed 
in his balls, rose higher like lava up his tubes. A blinding light
burst 
in his skill. He screamed, the pleasure too much. A long squirt of
jism, 
silver teenager's cum, a jewel, streamed out. He fired off his load, 
pumping it and pumping it. Grey ropes of cum netted his thighs. He
shot 
and shot, vomiting it out of him, his balls spasming in his orgasm. It

went on, he could not stop shooting, the orgasm  eternal. The driving 
force of twenty-five inches of cock up his ass wouldn't let him break 
the orgasm.
	"Ohh, ohh, it's shooting, I'm blowing it, fuck fuck fuck, don't 
stop, I can't stop coming ..."
	On the boy, on his thighs, cum - redolent of masculinity.
	The squirming boy drove the horse over the edge.
	Rihumme felt the anal ring clamp down round his mighty cock, heard

the boy's cries. He grunted, panted, fucking. The boy's orgasm was a 
ripple of heaven along the length of his cock. He could hear Salanu's 
cum splattering hotly on the hay. Slice the cock into him. The boy,
the 
boy, the smell of his cum ...
	Rihumme's eyes rolled up into his head. The horse came.
	A flood of jism erupted from his equine cock. The stallion jammed 
his dick up Salanu's ass to the roots. He fired his jism. It flooded 
from the horse, squirting like a fountain into the Elf-boy. Ceaseless 
spurts pumped grey fragrant cum up into Salanu, hosing him, flooding
his 
bowels, soaking him with its animal essence. It blustered out of the 
asshole, between cock and anal pucker, rolled down his legs, over his 
balls, a grey tide smelling of the sexual potency of the horse. It was

as if Rihumme was firing a jet of cum into Salanu's guts. Rihumme in 
silence shuddered, pouring his jism out, filling the boy's ass beyond 
overflowing. The hot liquid poured back along his cock, ran out of the

ass, onto the hay. 
	They shot and shot, spasms of ecstasy wracking them, balls 
clenching, cocks jetting.
	When the explosions died away there was a silence broken only by 
their panting. Salanu collapsed onto the stool, lost in a golden 
dreamland. His cock remained rock hard. The horse's cock was softening

slowly, but it was still jammed up his butt, floating on a sea of grey

cum. The fat phallus slowly softened, became more like flesh than
stone. 
Salanu felt it slowly began to withdraw. Horse-musk surrounded him,
the 
source a inch-thick pool of cum of the hay, the tide on his legs and 
balls and up  his ass ...
	Rihumme with a movement of his hips began to slide his cock out of

the boy. It slinked back down Salanu's intestines. With a whispering 
slurp the head burst out of the ass. A flood of cum exploded out. The 
cock dangled beneath Rihumme's belly, long still, full of promise, 
gleaming wetly, redolent of stud horse and slut boy. It was retreating

slowly back into the great leathery sheath.
	It was over, they were two separate entities again. It was 
blissful but not sad. The thrill of the act hung in the air; it would 
never be lost. Rihumme was ... satiated, for the while. He had taken 
masculinity at last, it was all that it promised. He'd mated with it, 
ruled it with his cock. The boy, so pretty, so male, had worshipped
the 
stallion with his tight ass. The god's offering - the grey tide - lay 
strewn on the hay, on the boy's thighs and balls, between his
buttocks, 
up his ass.
	The horse dismounted.

	
[] 2

	Now devoid of erotic tension the air was silent and still.
	Salanu slumped in repose over the stool, awash in bliss as his 
asshole burbled with slowly escaping jism. His trembling legs, wide 
spread still, were an invitation for any male to mount him. He gulped
in 
the air, sweat caressing his face, his brain afire with the
unutterable 
pleasure he'd felt ram up into his guts. He could not think. The 
afterglow of their mating warmed him, though, succored him against the

post-coital depression that lurked as it seemed in the nearby shadows.
	The deep bond, the ecstatic union, now broken between them, the 
horse stood away from the heavenly boy. The pink cock like an
elephant's 
trunk swung between his hind legs, wet, glistening like oiled leather.

It retracted slowly back into him, a snake returning to its den.
Rihumme 
cast his gaze upon Salanu. Dripping jism caked the boy's thighs, a
grey 
flood covered the tops of his toes, the hay was soaked. Gray fragrant 
ropes of teen jism were draped over the legs of the stool. 
	There was a silence in which Salanu dreamed of the consequences of

being in perpetual rut, like a human female. Then he asked:  "Was I
good 
enough?  Are you satisfied?"
	"Salanu," Rihumme said gravely, "you do not yet know the way of a 
stallion, so I forgive you your question. Had you served as mare to
any 
stallion, and had not satisfied him, he would have mounted you again 
immediately and ridden you hard with the phallus that you were too
weak 
to drain of its offering. He would show you your foolishness, as he 
fucked you, and give to you for the final time the cock you didn't 
deserve."
	Salanu half-nodded, quietly lay his head on the stool.
	"Boy. Look at me."
	Obeying the master's command, Salanu turned his head. The warm 
sight of a stallion post-coital. A dreamy smile curled on his lips, a 
smile of deep satisfaction and even deeper longing.
	"Look at my cock."
	The great pink staff had paused in its retreat into its armored 
sheath, on display. A rush of pleasure stirred in the jism-filled
depths 
of Salanu's bowels.
	"Am I erect?  No. Not now. This is because your ass satisfied my 
lust for you. This is because you satisfied me. I am satisfied, as I 
never have been before."
	Salanu closed his eyes. The words soothed a deep fear that he had 
felt, had felt even when all he'd had was his masturbation fantasies -

that he, a mere Elven boy, could never hope to truly satisfy such a 
magnificent beast as a stud stallion. "I am glad," he said
breathlessly. 
"I am so glad. I would forever be your mate, if you would but have
me."
	What lust that phrase kindled in Rihumme. Erotic images flooded 
the aryanlapt's mind. He would fuck this beautiful dark haired Elf for

eternity, flooding his tight ass with his fragrant grey tide. He would

die with his mighty dick sliming the boy's innards with evidence of
his 
lust.
	The stallion watched Salanu slide wearily off the stool and drop 
to the hay. The boy was sitting in a pool of cooling jism that had 
farted from his ass when Rihumme had cum in it. He sat with crossed 
legs:  the lower half of his smooth balls sank into the rich layer of 
cum. The boy sighed, his nose twitching as he breathed in the very 
essence of the horse. Salanu scooped up a handful of cum, smelt it.
"Oh 
... " he breathed. "I can't believe you've actually given something
this 
... beautiful, wonderful, to me."
	"All I make in my balls is yours," Rihumme said.
	"All you make in your balls I want," Salanu said. "You don't know 
how long I've dreamed for this moment, this time, when I could sit
down, 
after having given my ass to the beast I lusted for."
	"You have longed to fuck animals?"
	"Yes. Always. Since I was a boy. I remember watching two dogs fuck

once, when I was little. It was so exciting, the way he mounted her 
after she had accepted him. He just reared up with that pink cock of
his 
- that pink cock, I can still remember it!  It was bigger than mine.  
Then he stuck it in her -- hard!  I still jack off thinking about it."
	"Do you like all kinds of animals?"
	"Yes," Salanu said. "But I like stallions for their lustiness. And

the size of their pricks." He grinned.
	"Why," asked Rihumme, "do you desire horses so?  Alone, out of 
your race, do you want to mate with me?  Why is your kind so adverse
to 
mating with me?  I've seen many Elves look upon me with lust, male and

even female, but none have ever had the courage you had. I know that
for 
the most part, Elven females come into heat only rarely, and that
Elven 
males seek solace with each other. But why do they not also seek
animals 
to satisfy that lust with?"
	"They are fools," Salanu spat. Then he laughed. "They are fools. 
They do not know what fucking is about."
	"They are."  Rihumme nodded.  Then he said, "You realize that I 
will not stay here."
	A horrified look spread across Salanu's face. "What?"
	"A stable is not my place. I am a stallion. I will be free."	
	"Yes, you should be free.  If you go, will you take me with you?  
I want to learn so much from you.  I want you!  I am your mare.  I
want 
to know your story, your history."
	Rihumme nodded. It was time to put in effect a design he'd had in 
the most secret chambers of his mind since he first felt the boy's
lust. 
"I will tell you these things," he said. "But I cannot do it here."
	"Why not?" Salanu asked.
	"This stall is not a place that I will live out my life.  
Stallions do not live in prison."
	Salanu nodded slowly. "You are correct.  This cannot be your 
place."
	"Let me free."
	"Whatever you wish, my lord."  Enslaved to the pleasure-instrument

now sheathed in the leather scabbard between the stallion's legs,
there 
could be no other answer for Salanu. "But ... take me with you."
	The boy's begging satisfied the stallion. For the stallion there 
was no other answer than this: "Yes. As you wish," for the stallion 
himself was a slave to the tight ring of pleasure that now dripped
jism 
so sexily. "Are you so willing to give up what you have here so
easily?"
	"I have nothing here.  I am a warrior.  All I want is my sword and

my armor.  And your cock.  Father and brother have both been after my 
ass.  What will they think when they find out I lust for beasts?  They

will send me away.  So why not leave now?  With my beloved."
	"Where would you go?"
	"You are my master.  I will go with you."
	"Salanu, I have many things to tell you.  We will journey places -
- many places, far places.  We will go to strange worlds.  You are 
correct:  I will choose our destination.  But I do not know the lay of

the land around here.  I need you to guide me to a someone who may 
direct me to where I must go."
	"I could take you to the Valley of the Stags ... they are 
knowledgeable about this area."
	"That will do for now."  Rihumme looked at the closed stable door.

"Free me."
	Salanu moved with alacrity, leaping up out of the jism to undo the

door.
	The horse strode proudly from his stable, along the length of the 
hay-strewn hallway, his hoofs clattering on the boards.   The other 
stallions --Huryada, Tyiript, Aulyor --turned their heads as the 
magnificent beast paraded out. The stallions were all erect and 
dripping, snorting at Rihumme, nodding their heads in supplication.  
Salanu, drying horse jism caking the backs of his thighs, they watched

with - lust.  As if Salanu were a mare in heat prepared to received 
them. 
	Huryada, a great black stallion, thick and muscular, sprouted a 19

inch cock from between his legs. His muscles were taut as a wire; his 
big balls were drawn up tight against his belly.  His mane, short and 
bristly, stood on end with the force of his lust.  His eyes were dark 
and glossy; his soul was veiled.  Huryada was an older horse and had 
fucked many mares, but he had longed for the sweetness of this boy.
Now 
that the aryanlapt Rihumme had won him over, Huryada wanted Rihumme
and 
Salanu.
	Tyiript, a grey racing horse, licked his thick lips with a sex-
thickened tongue.  His erection was 20 inches long and very thick.   
Precum was virtually streaming from his cockhead.  The true stud of
the 
three, he had three balls encased in his scrotum.  He had sired many 
colts in many mares.  Salanu had ridden Tyiript many times in races.  
Now Tyiript was looking to ride Salanu.
	Aulyor was the most beautiful and youngest of the three.  His 
noble face, his bright eyes -- Salanu had always loved him.  Salanu
had  
spent many hours caressing his sleek body, feeling the fur, marvelling

at the bay color.  The Elf boy had, a few times, slipped his hands 
surreptitiously towards Aulyor's sheathed cock while the great
stallion 
had looked at him with unfathomable eyes.  But the Elf's fingers had 
never made contact with the prize-- he had been too scared.  Salanu, 
imprisoned by his terror, had no choice but to retreat to the hayloft 
and masturbate, revelling the images of beautiful Aulyor.  A
wonderful, 
friendly work horse, Aulyor's 21 inch penis was ready for action.
	All the stallions worshipped Salanu and Rihumme with their cocks.
	Salanu was not unaware of the lust that Rihumme triggered. Mare's 
eyes, stallion's eyes, drawn to the sheathed weapon of pleasure that
the 
aryanlapt carried between his muscled thighs. It was a warming thought

indeed to know that he, a mere Elven boy, a virgin inexperienced in
the 
motions of fuck, could incite - and satisfy! - lust in such a 
magnificent a horse as Rihumme.  And he was aware of the lusting 
stallions.  It excited him.  His cock again began to rear.
	 "Release my compatriots," said Rihumme.
	"My lord?"
	"I am taking your stallions with me.  We will have need of them."
	Salanu nodded and freed the stallions.  They stroke out onto the 
hay-strewn floor of the barn, their cocks at the ready.
	"There's going to be a storm tonight," Rihumme said.
	"You can smell a storm?"
	"Yes. It smells like sex feels. Powerful. Masterful. Sweaty. 
Energy of the rut, filling you, mastering you, stiffening your cock."

Rihumme paused. "It is my favorite smell."
	Salanu laughed. "Yes. So I would expect."  
	The pink dot reappeared in the leather sheath between Rihumme's 
legs.  The long cock began to snake out again.  Rihumme's eyes rolled 
upwards into his skull -- what horse could resist the pleasure of 
getting hard?  The mighty weapon emerged again, ready for battle, 
dripping with precum, glistening with horse-lust.
	It was time for Rihumme to mount again.  This time he would not 
take the boy.  The aryanlapt was now far more interested in the 
stallions.  Rihumme's eyes surveyed the other stallions.  He had a 
choice of three.  They knew what he wanted, what he expected.
	Aulyor said (in equine neighing), "I want this boy.  He has wanted

me for so long.  Let me have the boy."
	Rihumme nodded.  "You may have him.  Which of you others want me 
the most?"
	Tyiript said, mischievously, "Which of us has the longer cock?"
	"That's unfair," said Huryada.  "I've sired more colts."
	"Which of you wants me the most?" Rihumme demanded.
	"I suppose," said Tyiript, "we both want you equally.  We're both 
virgins in our butts."
	"Is that true?" Rihumme asked Huryada.
	"Yes.  And I want you in my butt badly. Then I want my  cock in 
the boy."
	"You two line up side by side," said Rihumme.  "Head to tail, tail

to head."  Tyiript and Huryada did so, in sixty-nine position,
touching 
each other, their flanks quivering.  They held their heads upright, 
proudly.  Their cocks were twitching and dripping with anticipation.
"I 
will fuck you both."  Then he called to the boy in Elven-fashion.  
"Salanu!  Aulyor wants you!  Do you want him?"
	The boy had been watching the proceedings closely, fascinated.  He

had noted Aulyor standing off from the rest, looking at him with lust.

"Yes, my lord."
	"Then spread for him, like you did for me."
	"Yes, my lord."  Salanu bent over, pointing his ass at Aulyor.  
The young stallion whinnied at the sight of the Elf-boy's two half
moons 
spread open, butthole leaking Rihumme's thick, creamy jism.  Salanu 
turned, to look coyly at the stallion.  The Elven boy's guts were 
churning with the anticipation of having another horse in him.  His 
asshole pouted, spitting sperm.  The excitement in him was like a
living 
thing, churning and twisting his stomach.
	Aulyor came to Salanu.  He bent down, shoving his nose between the

Elf's cheeks.  The smell of Rihumme's jism almost made the stallion 
come.  Saliva began to drip from his lips.  The grey horse tongue
probed 
out like an eel emerging from a cave in a reef.  With a great sweeping

motion Aulyor licked a mouthful of jism from between the Elf-boy's 
crack.  Salanu shuddered with pleasure.  "Oh, take me, take me," he 
moaned.  "I love horses ..."
	His answering was a thick neighing.  Aulyor licked the jism off 
the boy, cleaning the boy's butt in preparation for mounting.  The 
tongue swirled around and around, never quite touching the tight
pouting 
ring of  Salanu's asshole, scooping up the jism in smooth motions.
The 
horse was loving the taste of his new master. Aulyor loved both
Rihumme 
and Salanu, and he wanted them both -- badly.  But he wanted the
Elf-boy 
more.  This ass-licking was given him a taste of the boy, and of the 
aryanlapt.  
	Aulyor licked the horse-cum off of Salanu's thighs.  The boy was 
whimpering and moaning, his eyes slits as Aulyor's tongue touched him
in 
forbidden places.  How long had he dreamed for this!  He had lusted
for 
Aulyor ever since the stallion was a colt, loving his beauty, his
thick 
sheathed weapon.  He felt the horse's cold nose between his cheeks.  
Then something hot and wet touched his anus.  It wiggled and wiggled.

Salanu moaned, bent over even further, his belly and back muscles 
tightening to support him.  He spread his cheeks so far that his crack

nearly vanished.  He shoved backwards.  Aulyor's tongue slipped into
his 
anus, a long hot eel of pleasure.  Rihumme's cooling semen drooled out

onto the tongue, ran back into the horse's throat.
	"Oh, gods, eat me!"  Salanu cried.  He shoved his young, muscular 
butt back against Aulyor's face.  The long tongue was deep inside him,

reaching up almost to his navel, it seemed.  It swirled around,
picking 
up cum and pulling it back into Aulyor's hungry mouth.  He twisted his

butt, impaled on Aulyor's long tongue, shoving himself back into it.
	The horse tasted the boy's musky interior.  He had for so long 
wanted to be up inside Salanu.  It was warm and loving and hot and
tight 
in there -- even after having been unbelievably stretched by the 
aryanlapt.  Spit dribbled off the horse's lips, onto the floor of the 
barn.  His cock was hard as a stone, angrily thrusting out into the
air.  
Aulyor's urge to mount was twenty-one inches of blood-gorged cock, and

irresistible.
	Aulyor pulled his tongue out of the boy with a long, slurping 
sound.  He sucked on his tongue in his mouth, tasting the boy's ass-
mucus.  Heavenly.  Aulyor backed away from the bent-over Elf, then 
mounted him, rubbing his muscular belly on the Elf's back.  He probed 
his cock between Salanu's cheeks, precum dripping.  The hard pink
flesh 
rubbed against the chaffed lips of Salanu's butthole.  The horse 
neighed.  Sperm was churning in his balls, begging for release.  He 
wanted to fuck for the rest of the night.  These stupid Elves,
Salanu's 
father and brother and the farm-hands, never realized that their
animals 
wanted to fuck just as much as them.  Aulyor had been kept in his
stable 
too long, away from a mares' cunts, watching Elves fuck.
	Rihumme circled round the two stallions he would fuck, displaying 
to them his penis.  He watched Huryada swish his tail to one side, 
revealing his buttocks, his big round asshole.  Huryada's big, thick 
prick was dripping precum, so brightly pink was the flesh that it
looked 
artificial.  A rich equine odor rose from the stallion.  Tyiript was 
following Rihumme with his eyes, watching the master-stallion survey 
him.  Rihumme thought that impertinent, but many mares were
impertinent 
before the ritual was completed.
	"Do you wish to mate, stallion Huryada?" asked Rihumme, neighing, 
using the horse-language.
	"Yes, stallion Rihumme.  I hunger for you."
	"Do you wish to mate, stallion Tyiript?"
	"Yes, stallion Rihumme.  I hunger for you."
	"You are my mates."  Unlike Aulyor who was too consumed with lust 
for Salanu, Rihumme wanted the ritual.  Sex was made for ritual.  
"Reveal to me what you offer, Tyiript."  The stallion went to stand 
behind Tyiript's quivering butt.  Tyiript moved his tail to one side, 
and showed his butthole to Rihumme.  He pouted it, to hint at the lust

he felt.  The erotic contractions of the tight ring of muscles sent a 
squirt of Rihumme's precum to the floor.
	Rihumme bent forward, kissed Tyiript's ass.  The horse-musk 
stormed in his nostrils.  Rihumme pressed his lips against Tyiript's 
butt, the ran his tongue up and down the horse's crack from his big
trio 
of balls to the base of his tail.  Tyiript shivered.  His tail swished

anxiously from side to side, a virgin uneasy on the night of his 
deflowering.  
	Done with him, Rihumme strode around to the other end of the 
pairing.  Sweat glistened on Huryada's asshole.  Gently, lovingly (for

Rihumme loved strength and power, which was what Huryada was), he bent

down and kissed it.  The sweat was heady in his nostrils, the odor of 
ball-musk and precum as powerful as the feeling the oncoming storm
gave 
to Rihumme.  Again, the tongue caressed the base of the passive 
stallion's balls and tongued the underside of his tail.  The black 
stallion rubbed his ass against the aryanlapt's face.
	"Stallion Huryada.  Are you in rut?"
	"I am in rut."
	"Stallion Tyiript.  Are you in rut?"
	"I am in rut."
	"Stallion Huryada.  Will you be my mare?"
	"I will be your mare."
	"Stallion Tyiript.  Will you be my mare?"
	"I will be your mare."
	"Stallion Huryada.  Say you must mate with me."
	"I must mate with you!"
	"Stallion Tyiript.  Say you must mate with me."
	"We must mate with you!"
	"Will you both accept me in you?"
	"Yes," the stallions said, their eyes hazed with the pleasure they

felt.
	"I will take you in your asses.  Has any other stallion -- or any 
other being -- taken you there?"
	"No.  I am a virgin, awaiting your cock," said Huryada.
	"No.  I am your slave, your hole to fuck.  I await your cock," 
said Tyiript, always the rebel, never quite following the ritual.
	Rihumme decided Huryada would be the first to get his cock.  One, 
because of the taste of his ass-sweat on Rihumme's lips.  Two --
Tyiript 
needed some discipline.
	With a smooth movement Rihumme leapt up onto Huryada's strong 
back.  He felt the other stallion stiffen, to support the sudden 
addition of Rihumme's weight.  Huryada's tail brushed the inner side
of 
Rihumme's thighs.  Rihumme felt the tight, clasping ring of Huryada's 
anus against his cockhead.  He pushed.  He felt the stallion shift 
uneasily underneath him.  Rihumme bent down, nipped at Huryada's neck.

"Do not move."  The anus did not give way.  Huryada was less of a
whore 
than the boy -- but of course, he was a stallion.  Rihumme pushed
again.  
The lips were a little more slippery this time from the white
stallion's 
leaking cock.  He felt the tight ring part.  Then his cock lunged up
the 
horse's ass.
	Huryada reared his head back, neighing.  His asshole burned.  He 
could feel the aryanlapt's huge cock thrusting upward, splitting the 
dank moist walls of his asshole apart.  The pain was sublime.  He felt

open, invaded, ruled.  The hard cock jabbing in his guts was
possessing 
him, ruling him.  It slid in just a few inches, then paused, the apple

sized-prickhead holding the stallion's butthole open.  "Oh, by Aradd, 
how I want this!"  His balls were drawn up tight against his belly.
	"Does it hurt?" asked Rihumme, voice thick with lust.
	"Yes!"  
	The aryanlapt forced his cock five inches deeper into Huryada.  
The strong, black horse squirmed beneath Rihumme's entrance.  His cock

throbbed against his belly.  Rihumme leaned down and bit deeply into 
Huryada's neck.  The black stallion whinnied and reared back, carrying

the aryanlapt upward into the air with him.  Rihumme used the 
opportunity to drive forward with his powerful hips.  He stabbed into 
the stallion up to his balls.  Huryada screamed and reared again, 
forward feet flailing.  He was stuffed, his rectum bulging around 
Rihumme's vast cock.  His anus gaped like the mouth of a cave.  
Rihumme's big, dangling horse balls lay draped against Huryada's.  
Stallion was joined to stallion.
	Huryada bounced a few more times, the great pain subsiding, 
Rihumme riding on top of him, enjoying how the other stallion's
asshole 
quivered and fluttered as he reared.  The glorious shaft between his 
legs was lodged deep in Huryada.  Tyiript watched them both nervously,

his ears pressed back against his skull.
	"Are you ready to get fucked?" Rihumme breathed in Huryada's ear.
	"Yes."
	"How does it feel?"
	"I want to stay on your hard cock forever, master."
	Rihumme slid the shaft out of Huryada, then drilled it back in.  
He began to pump at the other stallion's rear.  The black stallion 
lifted his head towards the roof of the barn, looking upward as if in 
supplication to a god, while Rihumme drilled his ass.  The mucus-lined

walls of his rectum wrapped tight round Rihumme's invading cock.  
Huryada's long pink tongue slid out, caressed his lips.  Rihumme
churned 
in the black stallion's ass, shoving his long pole deep, yanking it
out 
until only the fat prickhead parted Huryada's no-longer-virgin walls.
	Rihumme turned and looked at Tyiript.  The other horse seemed 
subdued now, watching how the great aryanlapt fucked with such power.

But the racing stallion's cock was hard as ever, and dripping, his
eyes 
glued to the erotic juncture where horse's cock met horse's ass.  "You

will be next," said Rihumme.  "You will submit to my cock."
	"I will submit," said Tyiript, but his voice was unsure.  He 
flicked his tail.  Then he turned to watch the horse fuck the Elf.
	Aulyor churned his cock his Salanu's ass.  The boy was hot for 
him.  They thrust themselves roughly together, the slut boy eating the

horse's phallus with his hungry asshole.  Both their eyes were tightly

clenched as they vanished into the fuck.  The horse could feel the
sweet 
boy yielding beneath his pounding belly.  The fat cockhead churned
deep 
inside Salanu's large intestine, the huge shaft massaging the Elf's  
walnut-sized prostate.  The muscles in Salanu's legs stood up in sharp

relief as he braced himself against the horse's driving thrusts.  He 
reached back, pulled apart the melon-halves of his ass to give the
horse 
deeper penetration.  Blasts of air farted from his ass as Aulyor
fucked.
	The horse drove faster and faster into the Elf's well-fucked butt.

The moment was coming.   The thick equine cock churned deep in the
boy's 
ass.  Salanu could feel the horse picking up power as it slammed its
rod 
of lust into him.  The long tube held him open while Aulyor -- beloved

Aulyor, horse of his youth, his fantasies -- fucked him.  It was 
incredible, this feeling of being used by an animal, of being
possessed 
by the raging energy of its cock.  Grunts escaped from him, as the
horse 
churned faster and faster in his innards.  He could feel the blazing 
fire of coming orgasm.  His eyes were hazing over.
	Aulyor came.  The horse reared back his head, mane flying, and 
fired his load deep inside the boy he so lusted after.  Hot cream 
flooded the boy's innards.  The stallion's bloated balls filled the
boy 
to overflowing -- once again hot stallion juice erupted from Salanu's 
tight anal ring, to splatter on the hay-strewn floor, on the backs of 
his taut thighs.  The horse pumped and pumped, shooting all his worth 
deep into the slut boy.  Horse semen ran down Salanu's crack and
dripped 
from his balls.
	Aulyor eased his cock from Salanu's asshole, still dripping ropes 
of fragrant horse-juice.  The boy hadn't come.  His cock drilled the 
air, rigid as a log, his balls full and tight and drawn up close to
his 
belly.
	Huryada craned his head back, laying his neck against Rihumme's, 
who hovered close to him.  The two stallions ground their hind parts 
together, loving each other with the power of their fuck.  Rihumme's 
power was immense -- the stallion could not endure such pleasure for
too 
long.  Huryada gave a great cry, and fired his immense load out onto
the 
floor of the stable.  The thick horsecock fired shot after shot of
grey, 
potent horse-jism, sliming the stallion's belly with the evidence of
his 
love of the fuck.  He was slick with sweat.
	Rihumme dismounted, yanking his cock out of Huryada's asshole 
harshly.  He looked at the black stallion's hole -- it was slimy with 
ass-mucus and precum, and little blasts of air farted from it.  The
rich 
smell of Huryada's jism filled his nostrils.  
	Rihumme looked over at Tyiript, who was staring at the immense 
pool of jism beneath Huryada, and at the enraptured look on the 
stallion's face.  Rihumme twitched his twenty-five inch phallus.
"Your 
turn, now, stallion Tyiript."  The aryanlapt could tell by the grey 
stallion's smell that he was afraid -- of the size of  Rihumme's cock,

of what getting fucked would mean to a creature that considered
himself 
to be the master of masculinity.  But Rihumme knew that, once
Tyiript's 
anal virginity was thrust away, there would be no fear of either cock 
size or femininity.  Maleness was the lust for cock.  Even when
screwing 
mares, Rihumme had always glorified in the feeling of his proud, hard 
cock, not in the feeling of their slick cunts.  Tyiript would
understand 
that, once the aryanlapt's cock was in him.  Fucking was a male 
activity.
	He went around behind the stallion, who swished the fine hairs of 
his tail to cover his asshole.  "Reveal yourself to me, stallion 
Tyiript," Rihumme commanded, his voice a growl of lust.  He bent close

to the horse's butt and breathed on the crack.
	"I -- I cannot, my lord."  The voice was weak and afraid.  He 
shivered, feeling Rihumme's hot breath on his asshole.
	Rihumme bit Tyiript's butt hard, gathering up the flesh with his 
teeth and twisting.  The stallion cried out, tried to yank away.  But 
Rihumme was already moving.  He leaped up onto the stallion back, 
holding him down.  Tyiript bucked upward, trying to shake the
stallion, 
to escape the phallus that sought his hole like a sword did its
sheath.  
Rihumme bit him again, on the neck, to show Tyiript that he had no 
choice but to obey the aryanlapt.  Then he rammed his cock forward.
The 
dry gates to the stallion's asshole resisted him for a second -- but a

second only.  Under the hammer blow they parted.  Rihumme' slick cock 
barreled in.  The stallion screamed as the long log lunged in.  The 
massive lance sank in to the balls in one great attack.  Rihumme
clamped 
himself to the stallion's bucking back, biting at Tyiript to subdue
him.  
He could feel the other stallion's tail beat a frantic pattern against

his inner thighs as he tried to escape.  He writhed in pain.
	"I am fucking you, stallion Tyiript," Rihumme growled.  "You will 
receive my seed."
	The grey racing stallion only moaned, feeling his battered, 
tattered asshole being pierced by the mighty lance that sprouted from 
between the aryanlapt's thighs.  His tail twitched frantically.  He
hung 
his head, letting the stallion fill him, use him, rule him.  Fire
blazed 
in his body, from his balls to his tail.  He hurt -- this was not the 
pleasure of screwing a mare -- but his cock would not go down, and he 
could feel his three nuts shifting excitedly around in his thick, 
leathern sack.
	Left alone, desperately wanting an animal to cause his orgasm, 
Salanu mindlessly humped Aulyor's flanks, rubbing his hard, hot cock 
against the bristly fur of the beautiful stallion.  As he humped sperm

bubbled out of his well-fucked butthole and ran sexily down his
thighs.  
Aulyor stood in the listless abandon of one who has at last achieved a

long-dreamed-of fantasy, head bowed, his closed as he savored the 
memory, the great twenty-one inch prick hanging soft and pink between 
his legs.  Salanu reached out and fondled the shaft.  It was hot in
his 
hands, and tough and strong yet yielding as it slowly softened.
	A tongue touched his butthole, lapping at the leaking sperm.  
Salanu slowed his humps, turned.  Huryada, recovered from his orgasm, 
was eating his butt.  The black stallion's tongue probed gently
between 
the globes of his ass, smearing Aulyor's jism on his brown skin.  Then

the tongue slipped inside his puffed-out anal ring, went into him.
Like 
an octopus' tentacle it probed into him.  Salanu backed up onto it, 
still holding Aulyor's cock in his hand.  The tongue found his
prostate 
and began to massage him.  Salanu felt something go through Aulyor's 
penis, something hot, then felt a liquid splattering onto his lower 
legs.  The stallion was pissing like the stud he was.  Salanu cupped
his 
hands into the stream, lifted it to his nose, smelling the aroma.
	Between two horses, smelling one's piss, the other eating his 
butt, humping a horse's leg frantically like a dog in heat, he came.  
The hot cream streamed onto Aulyor's flanks.  His moans filled the 
inside of the barn.
	Rihumme bucked hard into the stallion beneath him.  He loved 
fucking Elves, and he loved especially fucking Salanu, but there was 
nothing like fucking so massive a creature as a stallion.  Especially
a 
virgin stallion like Tyiript, too nervous to enjoy it but very very 
tight around the massive cock.  He arched his back as he drove 
powerfully into the triple-balled horse, fucking his ass hard.  He
bent 
down again and bit deeply into Tyiript's neck.  The horse writhed, 
whimpered.  Tyiript's tail hung limply between his thighs, his
butthole 
spread by Rihumme's pounding cock, his own cock rigid and hard between

his legs.  His legs were parted, and he no longer resisted.  The cock 
filled his rectum, stretched the mucus-lined walls wide.  He could
feel 
the fat prickhead probing between his pelvis, deep inside his body, a 
powerful, masterful invader.  The pain from Rihumme's gnawing teeth
was 
-- exquisite.  He could not think, he was in shock from the
penetration, 
from the experience.
	He stood there, rear legs spread and extended slighly behind him, 
his tail tucked meekly to one side, forelegs spread and stiff, holding

the weight of Rihumme on his broad back.  His three balls were drawn
up 
tight in their sheath.  His cock was rigid, hard, twenty inches of  
horse sexual flesh that had pleasured so many mares -- now hard only 
because a great aryanlapt, a stallion of the god of lust, fucked his
ass 
and made him into a passive recipient of cock.
	But, as Rihumme fucked, pleasure began to flood him.  The harsh, 
burning scraping of Rihumme's cock on his anal ring changed to a warm 
feeling.  The stretching that his intestines did to accomodate the 
stallion's massive cock began to feel as if Tyiript's innards were
being 
remade into something much finer.  The energy which Rihumme pumped
into 
his clasping butt was rejuvenating.  A fire of pleasure ignited in 
Tyiript's balls, streamed and danced along his cock.  Precum began to 
drool from it.  He began to pump his butt backwards, into the raging 
hard thrusts.
	Rihumme felt the subtle shift in the other horse's attitude.  To 
himself he smiled.  They always came around.  He slotted into the
tight 
ass harder and harder, fucking like the great, powerful animal he was,

ruling the warm creature he held imprisoned between his thighs, on his

long cock.  The orgasm was so close now.  He felt Tyiript buck back
into 
him, loving the thrusts, just like the Elf boy -- though the Elf boy
had 
never resisted the fact that he was to be fucked.
	Tyiript gave a great cry and began to shoot.  His balls contracted

and a thick white rope shot from the head of his hard cock, landing
ten 
feet in front of him.  He fired and fired again, asshole contracting 
around Rihumme's thrusting cock, long dollops of horse juice erupting 
outwards.  Sperm coated his belly, drenched his hay.  Erotically he 
pumped his hips, as he if were fucking a phantom asshole, shooting and

shooting.
	The great aryanlapt came, a giant explosion of lust deep inside 
Tyiript.  Great floods of semen pumped into the grey horse, filling
his 
rectum, leaking from around the mighty engorged shaft of Rihumme's
cock.
	The others stood silently, watching the two stallions come.
	When it was over, Rihumme dismounted and turned to look at his 
band.  Tyiript stood listlessly, head hanging, cock and asshole
leaking 
cum still.  Rihumme smelled the piss on Salanu, and began to void his 
own bladder through the arm thick length of his softening cock.  The 
great pool of golden liquid spread out on the cum-drenched hay of the 
floor.
	"Stallions, my Elf-boy, it is time for me to explain who I am and 
why I am here.  I am an emissary from Aradd."
	Salanu nodded.  Having been fucked by the horse, and knowing 
intimately the skill the stallion had shown in the art of fuck, he had

already guessed that the horse was somehow related to Aradd the God of

Male Love.
		


	Then they rode off, together, horses and boy, through the silent 
courtyard. No horse carried Salanu -- he walked beside them, one of 
them.  The dark bulk of the lodge and barn faded behind as they
crossed 
over the noisy brook that bisected the farmstead itself. They turned 
eastward, off the road, cutting over fields new-sown, heading towards 
the dark hills rising around them. Salanu felt as if he were entering
a 
vast dark cave with some loved and trusted teacher - the thrill of 
entering the unknown and forbidden, the terror of the black and 
unforeseen future, the warmth imbued by the presence of Rihumme. 
	Cum rolled still out of Tyiript's, Salanu's, and Huryada's butts.

Their bow-legged strides revealed to onlookers how hard they had been 
fucked.  Salanu walked with an erect cock, though the stallions
appared 
to be satiated.  He followed behind Tyiript, watching the white jism 
slurp out of the stallion's puckered asshole.  The pungent smell of
it 
was like a drug.
	Once, when they paused, Salanu marched forward and stuck his 
tongue in the stallion's asshole.  The taste of cum and shit was 
heavenly.  The warm feeling of the horse's big muscular butt on either

side of Salanu's face caused a few droplets of precum to fly from his 
hard cock.  Tyiript looked upward, shocked a bit, as Salanu drank the 
jism out of his asshole.  But then he relaxed, for the feeling of the 
boy's tongue on his chafed asshole was sooting.
	When Salanu drunk his fill, they went on.
	Onwards they went, till massive oaks enfolded them in cool 
shadows. Salanu's skin pimpled, his nipples stiffened to points, his 
balls drew up tight against his body. The land rose and fell in gentle

sweeps as the horses and boy mounted the hill's skirts. From time to 
time Salanu spoke words of guidance to Rihumme, altering the horse's 
direction as they passed some recognized landmark.
	After some time they crested a high ridge, and Rihumme, his heart 
realizing what Salanu might be contemplating and what he might be
giving 
up, stopped and turned, so that they boy could see where he had left. 
Down below in the valley where the farm lay the buildings where he had

grown up had faded to indistinguishable blurs, like a distant haze, a 
troubling memory on the edge of consciousness. Silver moonlight
shivered 
on the stream below. Salanu took a breath, released it all till his 
lungs held only void. 
	Rihumme said, "You know that I will take you back, if you desire."

The other horses were silent, as the two  spoke.
	"Yes, I do," Salanu said. He turned away, to look towards the wall

of trees for the path. He pointed towards the slender boles of two
tall 
beeches looming like gateposts ahead. "There," he said. "Through
there."
* * *
	Salanu had found the glade two years ago, when his pubes were 
still naked (though his cock was swelling with incipient maleness).
He'd 
stumbled upon it in the day time, erupting out of a circle of elms, 
propelled by boyish enthusiasm for exploration, coming out onto its 
grassy floor with a look of astonished wonder on his face. The air had

been drowsily warm, sweat had coursed from his armpits, butterflies
had 
swarmed around. The laughter of the brook rushing down the hill slopes

towards the wide lands outside the ring out hills had blended with the

wind's whisper in the trees. It was as if he'd stumbled into a new 
world, had been one of the Elves of the Awakening who had seen the
world 
when it was fresh and new. It was as if the Veil had thinned and he'd 
gone into the World of the Gods.
	He'd never shown this place to anyone else, and he'd never seen 
anyone else's footprints disturbing the clay along the sides of the 
brook. It was his place, his fortress behind the circle of elms. He'd 
not shown it to Konya, who he knew would love it. He had not shown it
to 
Father, or the farm help. It was his private, solitary space. The only

avenue of vision out looked up into the sky. He'd learned to jack off 
here. He'd blown his first wad here. He'd done it so many times here 
that the meadowgrass smelled of his young jism.
	Rihumme strode proudly out of the trees into the glade, his horse-
potent balls swinging against his muscled thighs in time with his 
strides. Salanu was at his side, the other following behind.  All of 
them were covered with drying semen. The air was quiet, only the brook

that bisected the glade making only the softest of sounds. The
tree-clad 
slopes of the hills rose all around. The other worldliness was
complete 
- Rihumme, who had dwelt in the World of the Gods, recognized its 
nearness. Aradd would be watching. 
	The stallion stopped. The others in the line following him paused 
also, obeying their silent master.  Their eyes swept round the glade.

Rihumme's nostrils flared as he breathed the daisy-scented air. He 
turned his head back towards Salanu. "This is a beautiful place. Is
this 
yours?"
	I "It is. I found it."  He looked back at Rihumme, who was 
standing there expectantly. "Do you like it?"
	"Yes. What a beautiful smell," and he was not talking about 
Salanu. Rihumme bent a ripped up a tuft of grass. He chewed on it for
a 
long while. "So peaceful."  He turned to the other horses and
whinnied.  
They began to eat.  
	

At the sight of the horse eating Salanu felt his own hunger, 
pushed aside until now by the magic of  walking free out into the
world 
with his mate. He walked over to the brook, knelt and drank. The water

pooled coldly in his stomach. Then he got up and lay down on his back,

in the grass, looking up at the distant stars.
	The stallion, chomping and tearing at the grass, worked his way 
over to where Salanu lay. 
	"I never want to go back," Salanu said. "I never want to see you 
in a stall, ever again. Here is where you belong - outside, in the 
wilderness. Free. I want to be with you, your mare, your colt, if you 
will let me."
	"I will not ask you to go against your kin to free me," said 
Rihumme. "I will not ask you to abandon them, either."  The horse
caught 
him again with that seem piercing gaze that had enticed him into the 
glorious fuck. "But I will not make you go back."
	"I do not wish to go."
	"What do you wish?" asked the stallion.
	"I want to go into the world outside," said Salanu. "I want to 
travel about it. I want to see Kyulon-Lirren. I want to see Olarin
march 
past me in parade. I want to see a ship. I'd love to see a ship. Do
you 
know they keep a squadron in the very harbor of the Dark Lord?"
	Slowly, Rihumme said, "Yes. I've heard that tale."
	"I want to be a warrior. In the service of no one king - I want to

sell my services to the king at war. I know about Bakal Remainyo, and
I 
want to avenge it. I've got a bow and arrow hidden here, I can use
them. 
But I want a sword."  He paused. "I don't want to be on a farm, all my

life. Behind the walls of warriors - I want to be with them, to be 
free."
	"Yes. You should be free."
	"Have you ever been the steed for a knight?  Or ridden with the 
cavalry?"
	"I have. I have seen feats of arms. There are many stories I could

tell you. I can read in your heart the truthfulness of your feelings,
of 
your longings. I honor them."
	"What do you wish?  Out of all the world, what do you wish?"
	Rihumme thought. Here was an Elf, a beautiful boy Elf, asking him 
an Elvish thing. What did he, an aryanlapt, a creation of Aradd the
God 
of Love, really want?  He wanted to mate. He wanted to fuck. Already 
life was stirring back into his balls - sperm was beginning again to 
swim around there, anxious to get out. He was building up again to 
another fuck. He didn't really care about battles and war and glory, 
except that it would bring him more males, perhaps ones he could
seduce 
into a harem. He wanted mares, whether male or female he didn't care.
He 
wanted a colt, his own colt, so he could teach him to use his cock as
a 
master of cock should.
	But what to say to Salanu?  The mastership of the rut was 
temporarily gone; they were two male companions. One male could only 
rule another in the fuck, never outside it - that was part of the
nature 
of masculinity. 
	"I wish," said the horse, "to see all the world. To travel through

it, to experience it. To travel through all the Elf-kingdoms, to the 
realms of Men far away even, even to the gate of the Land of the
Gods."
	Salanu smiled slightly. "I would be your companion through it 
all."
	"I would have you with me, through it all."
	There fell a long silence between them. The stars were wheeling 
overhead, the night deepening, the shade infusing the space between
the 
trees drawing tighter. They seemed listless, tired, worn out, though 
their minds were feverish with thought, and new energy began to amass
in 
their balls. 
	"You told me you would tell me why you desire animals," Rihumme 
said. "That is why we came here."
	"I will," said Salanu. "But will you do one more thing for me?"
	"Anything."
	"Tell me first why you fuck Elves."
	
** Rihumme's Story 

	The city, on the coast of the warm Inner Seas, had an air of 
abandon, of wildness. Kyulon-Lirren had been raised not long after the

Day of the Dark, by Elves fleeing the sack of Remainyo, but its birth
in 
darkest tragedy seemed long forgotten. Great trees grew along its 
marbled boulevards, raising their mighty limbs in wild delight. In the

evenings the tavern lights showed late. There was much laughter in the

air; the smell of the sea was like an narcotic. The sun rained down
its 
golden wine.
	In that city Konyamiand was King. He was a son of Anyongi, who had

been a Lord of Remainyo until the Day of the Dark, and who now ruled a

kingdom in the distant mountains. Konyamiand had earned his fame as a 
mariner long ago, when much of the world was unmapped and virgin, and 
when the Dark Lord Uklo had remained hidden his tower, building the
army 
and navy that one day would destroy the idyllic and false peace of the

Elves. He sailed to the End of the World in the West and there
broached 
the Veil between Worlds and entered the realm of the Gods. He'd 
discovered the Ice in the North. He was loved by many, and loved many
in 
return, and it was often said of him in those happy days that he would

never marry. In the end he had, to Sulonyien.
	Dark haired and dark eyed, tall and muscled, after the horrible 
Bakal Remainyo his mood darkened, and he became grim and silent, even 
stern. Sulonyien, who's mood had always been silent, simpering, and 
fearful (but who was sexually extraordinarily active, for a Female
Elf), 
became argumentative and nagging with her husband after that battle, 
while both had worked to oversee the raising of this city. Tiring of 
her, Konyamiand had sent her away,a clear divorce in the eyes of his 
people, who beloved and belusted him. But of her came a son, 
Konyaselend. Konyamiand's mood lightened with the long peace that came

after the battle, and Sulonyien's did as well, but they were ever 
estranged from each other.
	Konyaselend became a mariner like his father, and inherited many 
of his talents. Konyamiand was called by many the greatest mariner who

ever lived, his son the second greatest. Although Konyamiand could
have 
grown to resent his perpetual second-place finish to his father, he
was 
of far too noble a temper to succumb to such baseness. He commanded
half 
the fleets of the city, governed the city-fortress of Eneth Gaukye
which 
guarded the narrow entrance to the Inner Seas, and was Captain of the 
Cavalry. It was because of his fascination with the horse that Rihumme

was brought to Kyulon-Lirren.
	Rihumme and his guide Erinya had crossed the Veil from Aradd's 
Realm into the World, coming into it not too far from Kyulon-Lirren 
itself. Rihumme had followed his guide into the city itself. He 
marvelled at all the sights:  the white marble buildings, the
garlanded 
boulevards, the tall ships gleaming in the semicircle of the harbor.
And 
the Elves:  there were so many, the World of the Gods was never so 
crowded. Everywhere, always underfoot, so that Rihumme had to dance
away 
from them as they jostled him. Laughing and singing, dancing even. 
	He had seen Elves only rarely before, so they were new to him. But

he quickly came to marvel at the shape of their bodies - The Elven
neck 
was divine in its pure shape, in the symmetry of its form. Their manes
- 
hair - so different from his own, but beautiful still, shining with an

inner light, soft and warm. He admired the muscles in the males, their

firmness and power. He admired the soft curves of the females, their 
promised comfort.
	He wanted to see genitals, but for some reason Elves covered them.

* * *

	Erinya took him to Konyaselend's mansion, near the sandy shore. It

was impressive, massive:  on either side of the broad main house
spread 
two wings, encircling a courtyard. Marble columns supported the roof.
A 
tall signal tower rose from the roof, and on the tower's apex were two

tiny dots - lookouts eyeing the long estuary of the river that led to 
the sea. 
	It was all imposing, tumultuous, and confusing, but Rihumme felt 
no fear as Erinya led him round the back of the mansion and into an 
orangery. Beside a silver gong they stopped.
	Erinya turned. "I am about to deliver you to your new master," he 
said.
	The word master made Rihumme's heart rebel, and Erinya knew it, 
but the horse said nothing. 
	"They - the Elves - have heard of Aradd's blessing, the aryanlapt,

but they do not understand you, nor Aradd, nor would they understand 
your mission if you revealed it to them. You therefor must proceed 
carefully. I will explain to Konyaselend your breeding potential when
he 
comes. He will no doubt accept you for that alone - after a 
demonstration. He will speak to you - probably hesitantly, for it will

seem strange to him to be speaking to an animal. Nonetheless you
should 
answer his questions, as best you know how.
	"Then Rihumme I will leave you here, and you will dwell until you 
die in the World with the Elves. Aradd Himself has charged you with
your 
mission. Your heart is wild, rebellious - this is why I love you so - 
and so I foresee that you will attempt to shirk it. You enjoy your
penis 
too much. I warn you: do not. Aradd has purposes and designs you
cannot 
see. You are a tool in the crafting of a subtle work. Or so he intends

you. You are free, for Aradd has very little to do with slavery. But
it 
will be best if you serve Aradd as he bid you."
	Before Rihumme could reply Erinya struck the silver gong with a 
mallet. The ethereal sounds resonated through the orangery.
	In a few moments two young Elves appeared - one dark haired, dark 
skinned, the other blond yet equally dark-skinned. They were narrow 
leather kirts round their waists, fastened with a wide belt.
Scabbarded 
swords dangled at their sides. Their chests were well-defined, 
developed, their naked hairless thighs heavily muscled. Rihumme could 
smell their ball-sweat - they were very male, proudly male. He felt
his 
cock swell just slightly in sympathy to their masculinity.
	The dark-haired one spoke in a deep, throaty voice. "Who seeks 
Konyaselend Prince, son of Konyamiand King?"
	"I am Erinya, vassal of Aradd, an Ambassador from beyond the Veil 
between Worlds, clothed in a form perceivable to you. I bring 
Konyaselend Prince an aryanlapt who is called Rihumme, as gift from 
Aradd."
	The guard bowed. "I will bring your plea to Konyaselend Prince."  
He turned, leaving the golden-haired guard there, who stood was legs 
slightly spread, his hand resting easily on his sword-hilt, examining 
Erinya and Rihumme with a critical eye.
	In but a few moments Konyaselend arrived with the dark-haired 
guard. A tall Elf, ravishingly handsome as was his father, hair dark
as 
Rihumme's mane. His pink lips curled into the slightest of smiles when

he saw the horse. His blue eyes, deep as the sea, unclouded by worry, 
took in the horse's luminance. His stomach was flat, graven with 
muscles; his chest was broad and his pectorals were heavy. He wore a 
soft leather loin cloth, hanging from a narrow low-slung belt. Curls
of 
public hair looked above it. The front flap of the loincloth hung just

below his heavy balls. His musk dominated the air, overriding the odor

of his two guards. It wrestled even with Rihumme's. An electricity 
crackled in the horse's nose. A pressure swelled up behind his penis,
as 
if he had to piss, as the ball-musk of Konyaselend was sucked into his

lungs.
	"Erinya," said Konyaselend. "It has been years."
	Erinya bowed, so odd a gesture for him - an Emissary of the 
Divine. "Greetings, Blessed of Aradd. Indeed it has. I see that you
and 
all your kin have prospered in those years."
	"So long as Uklo can be held behind siege lines, all will prosper.

So."  He paused, then looked Rihumme over very carefully, noting the 
horse's musculature, his bearing. "This is an aryanlapt."
	"I am," said Rihumme.
	One eyebrow raised on the handsome face. The Elven Prince turned 
towards Rihumme. "So you do speak, as the tales have said."
	"I do not know exactly what these tales are, nor do I know what 
they have said, but yes, I do speak, as do my kin."
	"Do you know how strange that is to me?  Do you know that Elves 
are used to hearing only beings shaped as themselves speak?  Men, 
Dwarves, even Gods who wear our shape. But you - you are a horse, a 
magnificent one certainly, beautiful and strong, but a horse 
nonetheless. You don't have my shape."
	"And you do not wear mine," said Rihumme. "But it is not strange 
for me to hear you to speak."
	Erinya spoke. "The aryanlapt Rihumme is Aradd's gift to your 
breeding stock."
	Tall Konyaselend shifted his weight onto his right leg, so that 
the muscles of his thigh stood out in sharp relief under his golden 
skin. The flap of his loincloth shifted over slightly, revealing more 
pubic hair. "Has he - have you ever been bred before, Rihumme?"
	"I have," Rihumme said proudly. The pressure behind his penis was 
growing. The rut was rising into him. He did not know if it were
merely 
the presence of Konyaselend, or if he was prescient, but he knew that
he 
would be fucking in a few minutes. Sperm was filling his balls.	
	"Have you sired?"
	"I have many ... offspring."  
	Konyaselend turned to the dark-haired guard, who was standing in 
the submissive's position, just behind and beside him. He whispered 
something. The guard left. The chiseled cheeks of his ass bulged the 
leather kirt he wore in a most enticing way. "Very well. I shall want
a 
demonstration of your functionality."  Konyaselend furtively glanced 
between Rihumme's back legs. "Soon."
	"As you wish."  He penis leapt forward, towards erection, he could

feel it begin to slowly slide against the leathery walls of his 
cocksheath. But he stopped it - controlled it, stilled the excitement 
with all his power. He was a stallion, the master of fuck. He would 
reveal his weaponry to this Elf, this icon of maleness, this male who 
reeked of ball-musk and fucking and sweat, only in good time.
	With a little smile, as if he were sharing in Rihumme's mastership

of rut, Konyaselend turned to Erinya. "So. How fares those who lie 
beyond the Veil?  It has been long since an Elf has crossed there."
	"As well as ever."  He smiled as well, reading Konyaselend's face 
too well, knowing the mariner Elf intimately enough to precisely peg
his 
interest. "Their minds are turned here, of course, to you and your
kin, 
and your futile war against the Fallen One."
	"Do I get a lecture on futility now?"
	"No," said Erinya, but his smile was gone. "All of those have gone

for naught. The Gods do not understand why:  they have told you all
the 
powers that Uklo possesses. He was Chief of the Order of Gods, long 
before this world was made, long before his Scarring. He drew the
design 
for this world. He made the Sun, as he was the Prince of Fire. He is a

master of sorcery. Though he was weakened, in the Bakal Remainyo, this

peace you created, this siege you've laid to Romanel and Eneth Eanth -

they cannot endure in the end. You are fighting one of the most
powerful 
beings there is. You have no hope."
	Konyaselend was openly grinning, his face mocking Erinya's grim 
tone - in loving fashion. The Elf loved Erinya as he would a friend.
His 
eyes were bright under his shock of black hair, his teeth were bright 
against his bronzed skin. "The lecture," he said, laughing. 
	Rihumme, listening in silence to the interchange, watched 
Konyaselend's face intently.
	Erinya's smile broke again. "Yes. But it's all because we love 
you."
	"Tell me, Erinya, what would you have us do?  What is there to do 
but continue as we are?  My father and I maintain squadrons of ships
all 
along the coasts of Romanel. There's a squadron in the very estuary of

Kyluel, commanded by a great man ..." his voice trailed off, as he 
remembered some dreamy event. His burly sailor's hand reached down, 
absently trailing over the firm mounds of his chest, to reach under
the 
leather flap and scratch. "... Anyway. Olarin's and Amila's armies
ring 
the fortress itself. All the subterranean entrances have long since
been 
closed off. My father is even considering despatching an embassy to
the 
Eastern Kingdoms - the Kingdoms of Men, to enlist their aid, to draw
the 
siege tighter. The siege is tight.
	"All forays made by the trolls since we encircled the tower have 
been repulsed. Uklo is closed in, he cannot get out. He might have
been 
a divine being once, but he now acts through trolls, swords, and
siege-
engines, not magic, song, and divine power. Uklo is closed in; he
cannot 
get out."
	"He has escaped from deeper prisons before, from warders more 
powerful than any he has now. The Gods have not your confidence. We
have 
dealt with Uklo for far longer than the Elves have been in existence.
We 
know Uklo, and his ways. You cannot win."
	The smile never left his face. "What would you have us do?  Where 
can we flee?  How can one hide from the Maker of the Sun?"
	"If the Elves agree to abandon the World, the Gods will accept you

beyond the Veil."
	"You will leave Men here as Uklo's slaves?  You will do the same 
to Dwarves?  Aryanlapts?  You will surrender the labor of the years,
the 
World, with no fight at all?"
	"We will - withdraw - to a position where we can gather our 
strength. Our final assault from him will complete his fall. We will 
restore the World to its youth - and to the inhabitants we made it
for:  
Elves, Men, Dwarves, and even aryanlapts."
	Konyaselend laughed at that, his gaze fixed on Rihumme. His hand 
again drifted down, coming to rest to cup his inner thigh just belong 
the damnable leather flap. He massaged the muscle there absently. 
Rihumme's head swam with the narcotic of the Elf's ball odor. 
	"Ah yes,  ah yes, the aryanlapts. This stallion, Erinya, is 
magnificent. Do you hear me, Rihumme?  He is quite a - master of
horses. 
And other things. Now tell me this - why has Aradd sent their like
into 
the world?"  Konyaselend turned to Rihumme. "I would like to hear your

version."
	"Rihumme cannot tell you Aradd's plans for the aryanlapt," Erinya 
said. "Aradd swore him to secrecy on that matter. And as for what you 
ask me - "
	A sudden electric odor filled the air. Rihumme's head shot up, 
turned, his ears pricking forward, his nostrils sucking in huge gulps
of 
the smell. A mare in heat. He now saw here, as the dark-haired Elf led

her into view. Semen simmered in his balls, blood rushed to his cock.
He 
snorted, sucking in her odor, feeling the fuck spread out from his
balls 
in fiery waves. She was a magnificent black mare, perfectly shaped,
well 
muscled. Her eyes were softly luminous, but they were filled with the 
urgent, hot need of a mare heat. A long braided mane caressed her
neck. 
	The smell of her - moist yielding, tight clasping - it drove 
Rihumme into a frenzied state. He had hovered too long on the edge, 
being so near the potent Konyaselend. 
	" - Aradd's animal is the horse. It is his sign. He desires to see

the horse multiply. He feels they are also you best ally in your 
hopeless war. This he why he made the aryanlapt a breeder and a 
speaker."
	But the smile was gone from Konyaselend, and he was barely 
listening. He was staring at Rihumme, watching the lust go shimmering 
through the muscled flanks. His eyes widened as the brilliant pink
head 
of the stallion cock spread apart the lips of the sheath. "A breeder,"

he whispered.
	The mare was gazing intently at Rihumme. She was not capable of 
speech, Rihumme knew, but he did not care; he only wanted to fuck. He 
knew she had accepted him. The equine ritual here was being done
without 
words, it was in progress towards a satisfactory conclusion though.
The 
guard led her in front of Rihumme, then released her bridle. The
guard's 
cock was erect. His cockhead protruded from beneath the leather kilt, 
dripping precum. The blond guard was groping his crotch.
	Rihumme, feeling the sex in the air, remembered who he was, where 
he was. For one proud moment he lifted his head, brought himself out
of 
the burning rut, turned to Konyaselend and met the Elf's bright gaze. 
The horse unleashed his cock, and its long inches began to slither out

incredibly fast, driven by the high pressure that had been building
ever 
since he'd laid eyes on Konyaselend. "I am a breeder. And this is my 
cock."  The glorious dick rushed out, curving away from the equine
belly 
in a broad arc.
	The dark haired guard was masturbating now. His blond companion 
was unfastening his own belt.
	As the length of the horse cock increased so did the width of 
Konyaselend's eyes. When the full twenty-five inches of hard horse
flesh 
was revealed the Elf's own cock began to lift.
	Rihumme returned to the rut. The mare twitched her tail in 
anticipation of being mounted. She spread her legs, and squatted down
a 
bit into the preferred equine position. Rihumme bent his face forward,

his upper lip curling to reveal his extended tongue. This was not
really 
equine - it was aryanlapt - but she would love this as much as Rihumme

loved doing it. And the Elves would be - well, interested. 
	He bent his head down, inhaling her odor, the biting scent of her 
hot cunt driving away Konyaselend's ball musk. His prick was leaking a

torrent of precum; he felt as if he were pissing precum. 	
	He covered her protruding clitoris with his lips, nibbled at it 
with his teeth. There was a surprised neighing - he heard it faintly, 
but did not care. His tongue slid over the hard button. He sucked it 
into his mouth like it was a cock, nibbled at it. She whickered in 
pleasure, her eyes slitting at his began to eat her. He thrust his 
tongue forward and down a bit, between the lips of her cunt.
	Konyaselend's cock, all twelve hard inches of it, poked out from 
his groin, a flesh sword thrusting the narrow flap of leather aside.
All 
three Elves were now erect, all their eyes locked on the stallion who 
was tonguing the mare, on the stallion who looked to be on the verge
of 
firing a huge load into the air, on the stallion who ruled the moment 
with his cock. The bright purple head of Konyselend's cock spat a 
pearlescent rope of precum, a little precursor orgasm, which drifted
in 
a slow fall like a spider dropping on a line of silk towards the
ground.
	Honey - lubricant leaked from her cunt - dripped off Rihumme's 
chin as he ate and ate. She hunched her ass against his probing face, 
twisted it to send his tongue swirling around her channel. She rubbed 
the tiny hard nub of her clit over the ridges of his teeth. She was 
whinnying, panting, snorting. If she'd been aryanlapt (the colt she'd 
bear from this fucking would be) she'd have been babbling delirously.
	In a smooth movement Rihumme pulled back, lunged up onto her 
smooth back, and slid forward. His cock plunged into her cunt, between

the dripping, gaping lips. The warm wetness slurped up along his
length. 
He took her in that one powerful thrust, as horses did when fucking 
other horses. The pleasure of him finally in her sent her to bucking
her 
hips, back at him, violently urging him deeper into her. His cockhead 
was lodged in her womb, but still she wanted him further inside her.
Her 
cuntlips pursed and kissed at his balls.
	He yanked it out, slammed it back in, one powerful thrust of his 
hips sending shuddering waves of pleasure through her. The flared
ridge 
of his cockhead dragged through the wet tight tunnel.
	"Gods," said Konyaselend, lube freely dripping now, as if he were 
in the cunt with Rihumme.
	Erinya, whose sexual drives turned neither to horses nor Elves, 
and who was therefor completely unaroused, said, "Yes, he is
impressive. 
And I see you find him exciting to watch."
	"Gods, yes. I've never seen a mare in such pleasure. I've never 
seen a stallion fuck with suck power."
	"After a few such sessions with Rihumme, she will begin to come 
into heat more often. She will bear more colts for you."
	"Yes ... yes."
	Rihumme was snorting, puffing, eyes shut, fucking her and fucking 
everything with a hole to fuck. His cock lube mixed with her cunt
lube, 
they squished together as they fucked. A red glow spread out of his 
balls and into his brain. The pressure was building. The need to blow
a 
load was absolute. The odor of erect Konyaselend was now clear in his 
nostrils, a brilliant narcotic. Rihumme turned, in the middle of his 
longcocking, to look the Elf again in the eyes.
	The Elf had grabbed the dark haired guard by the ears, forced him 
to his knees. Konyaselend had thrust his cock into the guard's mouth.
A 
bulge was moving up and down the guard's throat near the base of the 
deck. The blond guard was also on his knees, behind Konyaselend, 
tonguing the Elf's ass, jacking off. Konyaselend's eyes were focused 
directly on the plunging, rearing horse cock.
	The explosions of jism came simultaneously, equine eye on Elven 
cock, Elven eye on horse dick.

* * *

	The horse stopped his story. He had an erection. So did Salanu. 
"And that is only part of what I needed to tell you."  He looked
upward, 
his long horse face raised like an erection towards the sky. "It is 
getting late."
	"I want to hear this story. It - stirs things within me. I have to

tell you. I don't really know why I want animals. I only know I do.
I've 
never really thought about that question. But this story - its making
me 
think."
	The horse said, "Yes, well and good. But as for now, bend over."  
	Salanu rose, his cock hard and stiff, jutting up between his legs.

He looked at the stallion's heavy, dangling balls, the thick pink cock

already dripping lusty precum. A slight smile came to his lips as he 
thought of the pleasure that would soon be his. He turned, presenting 
his chiseled, muscled ass to the erect stallion. There was no choice
for 
him now but to obey his animalistic master.
	The horse mounted the boy, advancing on him arrogantly, sure of 
his power and dominion over the boy. The greatest instrument of power
on 
this world was an upraised, erect cock. Like a sword it ruled the 
moment, could bring life or destruction. The stallion could feel the 
boy's warmth between his legs. In the cool night it felt as if he 
straddled the sun. Aradd would be proud.
	The thick cock head probed between Salanu's cheecks. No equine 
ritual; they were mates, and mates always gave what was demanded of
them 
sexually. But nonetheless Rihumme paused, precum dripping into the
very 
cup of Salanu's ass, and he said, "Are you sure you can take this?
With 
nothing to support you?"
	"I'll have your cock to support me, my lord.""
	And the horse drove his dick into the silken tunnel. The churning 
began again in Salanu's guts. It was heaven.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

And it breaks off here.  I won't guarantee there will ever be any
more.