I've just started publishing erotic short stories! Amazon wouldn't publish this one (bestiality) so I figured I'd include it on here as a preview! This story also appeared on 8inchWilly's blog. You can find my other sexy stories of fantasy and fucking at amazon.com/author/brendabrass  

Mounted by the Steed

By Brenda Brass

Some of my friends from the city ask how I do it. It’s so boring, they say, there’s nothing to do out there. There’s plenty to do, I regularly retort, you just have to be willing to get a little dirty. They can’t fathom how someone can work on a farm; can’t imagine what they would do with themselves all day when the nearest neighbors are a half mile away. That’s the way I like it though. I’m a country girl and the only thing I love more than the peace and solitude out here is my job working the Miller family stables.

I know, it’s a typical girl thing, but I’ve always loved horses. Everything about them embodies majesty and strength. Growing up around them only made me adore horses all the more. I loved to brush their manes, loved the soft tickle of their muzzle against my hand as I fed them carrots, and I especially loved that giddy feeling of being elevated when riding them at a full sprint; knowing that they possessed the strength to do whatever they want, but that they chose to ferry me with them instead. Then, in junior high, a friend insisted I try bareback riding and inadvertently introduced me to a whole other confusing source of joy as my young mind longed only to keep that warm mass of muscle bouncing between my thighs, even if I didn’t yet know why I craved it.

That’s how I got my job, of course. I was hanging around the stable so often, pestering the hands and doting on the horses, that Old Man Miller just hired me on. Well, I suspect it was that and the way 17-year-old me looked in my Daisy Duke’s. The Old Man would never cross Mrs. Miller, but that don’t mean he don’t like to look. Not that I mind the attention. At 24, my pride in my body has only grown with time, and every girl likes the occasional reminder that men find them attractive. Besides, I love the job. Miller Stables are the largest in the county, with 26 family owned horses and between 15 and 20 boarded horses at any given time. Not to mention the countless acres of wooded riding trails and fenced pastures. I could never imagine doing anything to risk losing this amazing job. That is…I couldn’t until now.

The trouble started last week. It was a Friday and we’d spent half the afternoon prepping four of the show-horses for a fair the next day. New shoes, hooves filed, manes groomed; the works. Per the Old Man’s standing orders, we stabled them in their own little barn away from the other horses, out by the two smaller pastures we let individual horses graze in. He insists the horses perform better after a day of separation from “the rabble,” but I think he just likes to pamper his favorites. He has reason to be proud though. Most of the Miller family’s horses have multiple blue ribbons or racing trophies and the best of them all was in that little barn waiting to win more accolades. “Benjamin” is a gorgeous Appaloosa. His head, mane, and legs are all midnight black fading into a white body which is speckled with black and gray dots. At 1300 pounds and 18 hands tall, he’s also the largest of his breed that I have ever seen. For obvious reasons, Benjamin is one of three stallions the Old Man keeps for breeding.

You can imagine, then, that I felt a fair bit of apprehension when, upon returning to the barn to check things over before going home for the day, I found Benjamin’s door open and his stall empty. Jerry, that lazy sack-of-shit, must have neglected to check the latch again. I hurried out the far side of the barn, pausing only to grab a lead rope, searching for the missing horse. I stopped just outside and scanned around for any sign of where he might have headed. I didn’t have to look long. Less than 100 yards away, I saw a gap of broken beams and splinters in the nice white wooden fence that encircled one of the two small pastures. As soon as I saw the broken fence I knew exactly what had happened. One of the mares was in heat and had been separated from the rest of the horses. Benjamin smelled her from his nearby barn and, finding that the door to his stall pushed right open, headed straight for her. He could probably have jumped the fence, if he had cared to, but he hadn’t seen the need to. With all of his strength and mass it was easier for him to simply bull through it. Such things are only obstacles to a beast that size if they allow it to be. Muttering obscenities under my breath, I slowly walked through the gap in the fence.

He had already mounted her. He was standing on his back hooves with his front legs resting just forward of her rump. The mare, a chestnut colored Quarter Horse that I recognized as “Applejack,” had her back legs planted wide in effort to support Benjamin’s considerable weight. Benjamin stamped his back hooves as he plowed in and out of the mare while she neighed submissively. I stood more than 30 feet away but could see every detail of their oversized anatomies. Benjamin’s stiff penis was as long as my arm…and actually thicker than it. I could almost feel Applejack gasp as nearly three feet of hard equine cock disappeared into her. It was that same midnight black color at the base, next to his gigantic swinging scrotum, but the ebony suddenly transitioned into a fleshy pink color mid-way down. The end of the massive member, I knew, flared into a flattish head even thicker than the shaft but I barely glimpsed it between thrusts as he buried it deep inside her again and again.

It’s not like I could stop them, even if I grabbed some of the other farm hands. When two creatures equaling a metric ton of muscle set their mind to something, there’s little you can do to stop them. That’s the secret about training horses, of course: they’re strong enough to do whatever they want. The best you can do is try to make them want the same thing you want. So I stood there watching him breed her; waiting for them to finish. As I waited, my eyes unable to turn away from the engorged cock pistoning in and out, I thought about what they were doing. It wasn’t love making. She was just another pussy in his harem as far as he was concerned. One of a dozen mares at the stable that he has fucked. She truly was his bitch. He didn’t care about the way she felt, he wasn’t going to watch over her after he’d impregnated her, they weren’t going to nuzzle each other after: this was simply breeding. Something about that thought made my own anatomy clench longingly and I realized I was soaked. I glanced around quickly, my cheeks no doubt flushed, embarrassed to be so turned on by the lewd act in front of me.

I was spared much more embarrassment as Benjamin brayed triumphantly, almost qualifying as a roar from a horse his size, and did what studs are meant to do. His hips bucked and I knew he was spurting his seed into her, filling her with literally gallons of warm cum. A spray of white liquid squirted out from around his cock at the entrance to her quim—confirming my guess as she overflowed with his cum. Applejack let out a soft whinny as inch after inch of horse dick slid out of her still twitching pussy, followed by thick globs of cum that splashed as they hit the ground. His penis softening rapidly (though still ridiculously large), Benjamin dismounted and stamped a front hoof on the ground, reveling in his own pride.

After a few moments, I shook my head and tore my gaze away from the slow stream of cum that was still dripping from Applejack’s vagina. I walked over to Benjamin and casually wound the lead rope around his neck. He allowed himself to be led back to the barn, the rope hanging loose between us, and bumped me out of the way as he walked right into his stall and started lapping up water. I made sure the door fastened securely.

Back at the pasture, Applejack had only recovered enough to hobble forward a few steps. “You slut,” I teased as I wrapped the lead rope around her neck and led her back to the main barn where she had her own stall on the opposite end from the other horses. Before returning to Benjamin’s stall, I filled one bucket with oats and another with soapy water. My arms flexed awkwardly out and away from my body as I hefted them to the show-horse barn. Benjamin snorted loudly when he saw the bucket of oats and I did my best to glare angrily at him—here he’d wrecked a fence and probably knocked up a prize Quarter Horse, and he was being rewarded with a bath and a bucket of oats. There was nothing to be done about it, though. Benjamin was a prize horse and he was going on show tomorrow. Even if he hadn’t got mud on his legs and flecks of white paint on his chest, his cock and balls were coated in equine juices. I put the bucket of oats on a hook on the wall and he buried his face in it immediately. As he ate, I pulled up a wooden stool and began washing him. I ran a wet rag up and down his legs, marveling (as I always do) at the perfect sinews of muscle that make up every part of his body. I stretched to reach around his chest and stood on my tiptoes to get his back while he continued munching his oats, ignoring me.

Finally, after putting it off for as long as I could, I pulled the stool up next to his flank and got to work on his gigantic balls. Mercifully, most of his impossibly large dick had retreated back into its sheath by then. I dipped the rag in the bucket again and wringed out the extra water before leaning in to get to work. My senses were assaulted all at the same time. Just as my hand felt the warmth of his huge balls through the rag, my nose, being so close to the business, picked up the musk of sweat that still clung to him and I experienced a taste in my mouth, more like a memory, of something salty and gooey before I shook my head and focused on the task at hand. Of course, the task couldn’t fit in just one hand. I could only fit one of his huge testicles in my hand at a time as I wiped the rag around and across them. I wondered just how much semen those big balls could hold, and if they were even bigger before he unloaded in ol’ Applejack.

As I rubbed, I noticed a movement and expanded my focus to perceive his rapidly growing cock swelling up next to my head. How could anything ever fit that glorious dick inside them? My hand continued to rub the rag over his balls automatically as I was transferred to the same state of mind I experienced every time I saw a fully engorged horse dick: mesmerized. Even as a young girl, I had noticed them. How could you not? That giant representation of masculinity and power, that huge phallus that would make any man seem small in comparison. It filled me with confusion and shame and a desperate longing.

I had a job to do so I did it; albeit still in a bit of a stupor. I continued from his balls, running the wet rag down the length of his cock—I had to adjust my seat to reach the whole thing! As I ran the rag back up the monolith, Benjamin stamped a front hoof and snorted. “Easy Ben,” I chided, “I’m not another one of your whores.” I giggled at my little quip and pressed my thighs together tighter at the thought of being his bitch. A devilish thought occurred to me and I ran the rag around the bulbous head of his cock, intending to tease him as punishment for his actions earlier. I swear that gigantic cock swelled even bigger and harder. The rag fell from my hand as I ran it back up the shaft but I didn’t stop. I wrapped my hand around that thick dick—my fingers couldn’t touch each other around it! —and stroked it in long slow motions.

I didn’t process what I was doing; I just kept running my hand up and down that very-long shaft. My left hand moved on its own, cupping and massaging those mango-sized balls. My tongue licked my lips and my eyes fixed on the big knob of a head, urging it to fulfill its purpose; to spray strand after strand of potent cum. I moved my arm faster, jerking his huge member, reveling in the feeling of it throbbing under my fingers. Benjamin neighed and I felt his cock pulse as the stream of cum flowed down that long firehose. Cum spurted from the head in terrific volume. Spraying across the floor, glob after glob of sticky white cum flowed from that anaconda as I held it. I kept massaging his balls, milking every drop of seed from the beautiful beast. The spurts quickly diminished to a thick strand dripping from the glans and I took in the filthy cum-splattered floor. I would later laugh at my first thought in reaction to that mess: what a waste.

I ran my hand along the shaft one last time, trying to milk all of the equine cum from it, but got a glob of it on my hand when my hand reached the head. Before I could think about it, I had my hand to my lips. Sucking off that warm potent seed from the side of my hand. It was salty and tangy and wonderful. I swallowed and looked at my hand for more. My evolved brain fought back control for a few seconds, outraged and embarrassed at what I had just done, but then I noticed the thick strand of cum dripping from Benjamin’s cock head and the primal part of my brain retook control—I lunged for his member and ran my tongue from under the head up to his urethra, lapping up all of the gooey cum emanating from it. I closed my eyes and swallowed what was just a drop to Benjamin, but what was more than any man had ever poured into my mouth before. I gave his cock head a few more licks before kissing it and letting it fall as it was now rapidly losing rigidity.

I stood up and took a few steps back from Benjamin, taking in the lewd scene. My eyes darted from the pool of cum across the floor, to Benjamin’s head now staring at me instead of his food bowl, to my own hands which had just rubbed off a fucking horse! I dashed out of the stall and started down the hallway before turning back to check that the damn stall door closed and latched, before speed walking out of the barn. The light was fading rapidly outside and I paused to look around. The main barn was dark but there was a light on in the hay barn and a pick-up parked just outside its doors. I hurried straight for it, praying that it wasn’t the Old Man or that stupid ass, Jerry. Most of the hands would have gone home for the day by now, but I needed a man and I needed him right then. Inside, I saw Thomas Miller, the Old Man’s twenty-something son, with tools spread around him on a blanket on the floor as he fiddled with a tractor engine. Perfect.

Tom turned to greet me but was silenced by my lips against his and my right hand on his crotch. He didn’t even question it—he just let the ratchet fall from his hand so he could grab my firm ass. I massaged his dick through his pants as his tongue swirled in my mouth. Feeling him swelling already, I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. He put a rough hand on top of my head (as if that was necessary) and I dropped to my knees in front of him. I grabbed the waste of his pants and pulled them and his underwear down in one tug. A brief gasp of delight escaped my lips when his hard cock sprang up after being freed of its confining pants, so close to my face that I could feel the warmth of it. I took it into my mouth immediately, closing my eyes as I bobbed back and forth on his tasty schlong. Knowing just how to get a man going, I went all the way down on his cock, taking it into my throat until I could tongue his balls. I held it there for a moment, letting him savor the feeling of having his cock deep-throated, before pulling it out of my mouth. I needed to catch my breath so I slowly ran my tongue up from his smooth balls until I reached the head. I looked up at him coyly—he looked down at me like he owned me.

I couldn’t have him blowing his load from a blowjob though; I still needed him. I stripped out of my top and jean-shorts while he disentangled his pants from around his ankles and pulled of his t-shirt. I pushed him into a sitting positon on some hay bales and straddled him, giggling to myself at the idea of an actual cowgirl fucking in cowgirl position. I grabbed his swollen dick with one hand, my other on his chest, and slowly lowered myself down onto it, giving my pussy time to adjust to the large object intruding into it. We both groaned in pleasure as I bottomed out, taking his entire cock inside me. I began to move up and down on his shaft, slowly, as he sucked on my perky tits hanging in front of his face. I enjoyed the feeling of his calloused hands on my body and when he slapped my ass I responded by picking up the speed, leaning my forehead onto his as I bounced on his cock. He pulled my hair and I let my head fall back, screaming as I humped him, “fuck yes! Breed me! Fill me up!” He slapped my ass again and I picked up the speed even more, “Do it! Make me your bitch! Cum inside me!” He grunted and I felt a spreading warmth inside me as he spurted his seed into me. I came with him, my orgasm causing my hips to buck as my pulsing quim milked the cum out of him.

I lay on top of him for a minute after, still impaled on his dick, catching my breath and reveling in our mixed sweat. When I noticed him going soft I dismounted and dressed quickly. I started for the door but then remembered, “Oh yeah. Ben escaped again. I put him back in his stall but not before he busted a fence and knocked up Applejack. When your dad gets pissed, tell him it was Jerry’s fault.”

That was it. An awkward moment while bathing a horse, that no one ever had to know about, and another meaningless tumble in the hay with one of the farm hands. Or so I thought.

When I returned to work on Monday, I went through my duties as I always did. Taught riding lessons to some children in the morning, took the colt through his daily training tasks, and checked in on each family-owned horse to make sure they’d been fed, exercised, and, if necessary, groomed that day. Benjamin, though, was back in the little barn by himself again, presumably as a reward for winning yet another ribbon.

I found him in his stall where he belonged, munching a hay bale. Hearing the distant clack of a hammer, I smirked. That must have been Jerry fixing the pasture fence outside the barn. Another clack sounded, much closer and heavier, and I turned to see Benjamin peering at me over the stall door, stamping his hooves impatiently. “Yeah, yeah. I hear ya, Ben,” I chided. “I’ll feed ya soon.” Since he’d received the full salon treatment on Friday, Benjamin only needed to be exercised and fed today.

Checking his chart to be sure that he’d had some time in the pasture that morning, I poured food-mix into a bucket and opened Benjamin’s stall door to step inside. He was instantly nosing me, shoving really, so I pushed his big head away in order to get to the corner of the stall where I put the bucket on its hook. I walked back out of the stall, his muzzle in my face the entire time, and closed the stall door. I looked down to check the latch but looked back up when I heard a sudden clatter. Peering over the door, I saw the food bucket on the floor, its oats and seeds spilling out onto the floor, “Ben, you ass.”

I entered the stall again, and bent down to pick the bucket up when something shoved me. My head hit the wall and I fell to my hands and knees, dazed. I came-to quickly and realized that Benjamin was standing over me. Literally over me, with his front legs on either side of my shoulders and his belly above my back. Stuck in a corner, I attempted to shimmy out to the right but as soon as my hand started to move across the floor, a hoof stomped down inches from it. I jerked my hand back quickly, shaking a bit at the thought of what one of those hooves would do to every bone in my hand. “Ben, lemme out,” I started with a quivering voice. “Lemme out and I’ll be out of your way so you can eat—“ My stammering was interrupted by another shove from the rear. Something was pushing on my ass. It was warm, I knew it was Benjamin, but I couldn’t figure out what part of him it was. It couldn’t be his rear legs. It kept pushing, rhythmically, and then it slid up onto my back and I knew what it was.

Benjamin’s gigantic erect penis was on top of me: the impossibly long shaft moving back and forth atop my buttocks, seeking an entrance. Benjamin began thrusting with more force, every hump rocking my body, and stamping his hooves in frustration. Every clack of a hoof against the barn floor made me flinch; filling me with fear as I recognized how vulnerable I was under all 1300 pounds of muscle and hoof. I did the only the thing I could think of and slid my shorts and underwear off of my ass with one trembling hand, the other still on the ground supporting my weight. I felt the warm flesh of that monolith moving back and forth across my bare ass, the head dripping precum along my back. Benjamin pulled back a little more and the head was banging against my ass and groin again, still searching for an entrance.

Obediently, I reached a hand back and grabbed his pulsing member, guiding it into my fertile pussy. My tight quim resisted the enormous intruder, at first, but with a good thrust the bulbous head suddenly popped through. I let out an audible gasp as I was suddenly stretched wider than I had ever been before. The huge glans, more spongey and far larger than any man, instantly filled every contour and fold of my inner walls and pushed against my cervix. I can’t find the words to explain it, the sensation of being completely and utterly full, but it puts you in a different state of mind. Then he started thrusting again.

Each time he withdrew his magnificent cock, the head tugged against the inside of the entrance to my pussy, and a momentary void was created inside me which I desperately needed to be refilled. Each time he thrust forward. that massive head banged against my cervix and sent a shudder through my body. It hurt, having all that mass bash against the far wall of my pussy, but it was an enjoyable pain: just enough to remind me of his strength, of his sheer size, and of his dominance over me. I had a quick oh God moment as I realized I might be enjoying this, but the thought was quickly erased by another thrust of that perfect penis. There wasn’t time for thoughts; wasn’t need for them. We were two beasts mating. He was breeding me.

I fell to one forearm, my hands no longer able to support my weight with the inertia of each thrust, and kept my ass in the air like the obedient slut that I was. I had to brace the other hand up against the wall in front of me to keep my head from banging against it as Benjamin continued to fuck me like he owned me. As he plowed me into a stupor, all my mind could process was that I wanted him to cum. I wanted to feel him spew inside me. “Do it, Ben!” I yelled. “Fill me up! Impregnate me with your horse cock!” Benjamin only snorted in response and continued to fuck me as he pleased. I thought about how much of his yard-long shaft must still be outside of me and felt ashamed that I couldn’t take more of it.

Suddenly, Benjamin brayed and I felt his cock jerk like a firehose as a flood of cum gushed from it. The pressure of that potent seed splattering my fertile insides, the warmth of it: I came instantly and I came hard; my entire pelvis jerking involuntarily, instinctually trying to milk more cum from that delicious dick as he continued to unload into me. My spasms of pleasure caused him to slip out but he continued to spray horse jism all over my ass, all the way up my back, and even landed several sizable globs in my hair. It wasn’t ropes of cum, like from a well-endowed man, it was waves of it; like someone pumping a well so the water blasts forth in rhythmic spurts. I collapsed even further so my face and chest rested in the growing pool of cum on the floor with my ass still in the air, and let out an involuntary moan as my battered pussy slowly contracted to its normal size—a steady flow of cum dripping from it. Benjamin walked to the far side of the stall, where the food bucket had rolled while he ravished me, and stuck his muzzle into the bucket searching for any remaining oats and beet pulp.

I laid there for several minutes in that pose, so exhausted and sore that I didn’t even process that my face was resting in a shallow pool of semen. Eventually, I picked myself up and stood on wobbly knees. Having nothing to wipe myself clean with, I simply pulled up my shorts over the cum. My hair was a mess, the backs of my clothes were wet, and my face was covered in dirt stuck to a white translucent substance—I can only image what anyone that saw me would have thought. I shuffled out of the barn, bowl-legged, and headed straight for my truck, keeping as far from the buildings and any people in them as possible. Mercifully, I made it to the pick-up without anyone approaching me, and drove straight home.

I limped inside the house I’d inherited from my parents and shed my sticky clothes onto the bathroom floor before stepping into a piping hot shower. I had intended to use the detachable shower head to clean out every nook that had been filled with horse semen, but that quickly devolved into using the pulsating setting while remembering the way Benjamin had taken me.

I took off work the next day—telling them I had a cold. In reality, I laid in bed past noon, recuperating from an epic fuck. God, I could still feel him penetrating me. I only got dressed so I could go outside and clean the cum off of the car seat from when I sat in it wearing jism-drenched clothes. I tried so hard not to think about Benjamin fucking me, not to enjoy the memory of it; but the harder I tried the wetter I got. The soreness in my pussy only made me feel empty, like I needed him to fill that space again. I ended the day with another moan-filled shower.

Now I’m back at the farm. I actually went back to work yesterday but spent the whole day finding reasons not to go near Benjamin. I’m over that now, though. What happened happened, and it won’t happen again. A dumb animal acted like the mindless beast that he is and I’ll just be more careful not to let it do so again.

I even volunteered to exercise Benjamin today, just to reassure myself that I won’t let that one little incident affect my work. I took him through some dressage paces but he’s still stamping his hooves with pent-up energy, so I’m going to take him for a ride through the woods.

I will admit that I have been working extra hard not to let my eyes wander below his flank, but that doesn’t mean anything. And I may have experienced a few butterflies in my stomach at the thought of taking that ride bareback atop him; but my evolved brain intervened and wisely chose to use a saddle. Now I’m packing the saddle bags with a blanket and a few towels…just in case. I have absolutely no intention of finding a secluded clearing in the woods, jerking and sucking his delicious dick until it gets hard, and letting that huge glorious cock penetrate my moist pussy again and again; reclaiming his property as I claw at the dirt and squeal in delight through multiple orgasms.

Nope, that’s the furthest thing from my mind.

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