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Zoophilian
The Ridden
- Joined
- Feb 7, 2013
It was promised to be one of a kind, That heavy rubbery bondage suit designed after a horse, It was even lined on the outside with real horse hair, And with the up coming Best in Show event he was certain that he could take the title or best breed title and the money which came with the title. It was a small town and hardly anyone bothered to enter, He would be a sure thing he had been convinced. Eagerly, Slowly he was made to step into that bondage, Where it would be inched up over his legs, With toes pressing into the hooven sleeves that ended at that last joint, Adding about a foot of weighted material for him to step down on, adding nearly a full foot to his bent over stature as the Hindquarters would be inched up, It was heavy, The suit alone would weigh nearly 70, 80lbs. Slowly his form would start to look more animal, Legs forced to bend the heavy latex not allowing him to stand upright or stretch his legs in certain ways, Soon he felt a cold wet hand slapping wetly between his parted thighs, stroking his cock till it dripped and drooled, Painfully erect and dripping with an oily pheromone mixture. His erect length worked into the rubbery sheath of the bondage, where it would be squeezed and almost milked by the now dripping latex. The opening at the tip of the leathery sheath dripped with that pheromone mixture that painted him as a mare in heat, a cruel calling card sent out long before he was ever seen.
Soon his stomach vanished, back, chest, Arms to soon worked into the front limbs with his hands forced to curl, Pressing firm against the second joint or Knee of the Hooven legs allowing it to bend properly and making him closer to the right size. By the end not a single seam would be visible, The last but would be that heavy Head and muzzle pulled over his features, Allowing him to stare almost cross eyed thru the openings for eyes. Staring down the length of that muzzle which would measure several inches, Rounded bulbous, Before he could ask any questions, he was greeted to that same hand, dripping with pheromones that had worked over his sheath and cock, Slowly being worked into his mouth, Drenched in those oils coating his tongue and staining those lips, his mouth with the taste.
There had been a reason this was saved for last. He would stare, watching with wide eyes when that hand pressed into that rounded equine muzzle that jutted out from his face, And slowly started to sink in, inch by inch till it was stretched wide, squeezing the arm visibly. That hand would vanish nearly up to the elbow into that muzzle and into his mouth, While to anyone looking on it looked horribly cruel, Like the person was fishing for something out of the Pony's throat, the forearm only meant that hand would be nestled perfectly into his mouth making him gag, A Muffled scream of protest as his jaws creaked and ached, threatening to dislocate at any moment. He was able to feel that entire hand able to feel those knuckles firm against his lips and tongue.
That hand Working Rubbery Caps over his teeth, A device that would bind to his teeth attached to the muzzle, Not allowing his mouth to close entirely, yet allow limited control over the muzzle and its mouth. That hand and those probing fingers could be felt pressing against the back of his throat forcing him to drool and gag, Choking even as that oily pheromone mixture dripped down his throat. In the end he looked like a medium sized pony, Only without those keen sense's or the strength that came with being an animal.
His hearing would be all but muted. Only able to hear the world muffled around him, His friend, Or anyone would have to nearly shout to get their words to sink in. His body ached with every movement he made. And those movements would be slow, careful as he tried to step forward feeling the weight against those faux hooven limbs before finally his muzzle was fitted with a Bit, Bridle complete with reigns before being tugged along, forced to follow as his heart raced feeling as if he were nude in public from the safety of that long horse trailer to the hay matted floors of the arena.
His life in the hands of the one who had given him the twisted idea of becoming an animal and winning in a contest against real live Animals. One of his best friends who had more or less come with the elaborate bondage for the sole purpose of transforming him properly and of course, Hiding any proof of a past life that may of been left behind in the wake of the transformation, Several questions flooded his mind about the suit, about the way it fit and the way that rubbery sheath constantly would squeeze his length, every step, every buck of his hips he could feel his own length shifting in that drooling rubbery sheath which his length would be to small to ever slip free of yet it was open enough to allow those pheromones to drip freely and other bodily fluids.
The potent scents alone burned his eyes turning those deep emerald colored eyes into tear stained messes. Leaving his vision blurred ever so slightly, Yet he didnt have to worry about walking into things, His friend held tight at the reigns, Leading him by that bit every step of his way as his mind slowly slipped from concern with his own safety to those of a sexual nature, With his every step his own erect length hidden within that sheath would twist and turn bringing him nearly to the point of orgasm with merely a few steps.
He wouldn't be the first pony sized male horse being entered as a Mare and the inspection process was no different, Nor was the prize at the end. He would not be expected to run, nor jump hurdles but to pass a simple inspection by an ever so perverted Vet, Who would'nt stop till all were proven Docile, Submissive, Accepting and of course, Worthy of accepting the Prize at the end. The prize at the end a hefty purse worth more than two or three purebred Mare and a rare shot at fame, Fame of course coming from the honor of being not simply mounted, But Bred with a well known Draft horse from the racing circuits. It was all to happen right there in center stage in front of the entire community not including friends, Family and other onlookers all bidding after the fact to have their own beasts sated by the prize winning 'mare', Yet even if he lost It simply meant the boy turned horse, Would have little more than papers proving he was no longer human and now Livestock, Winning would mean a first date he certainly wouldn't ever forget.
Soon his stomach vanished, back, chest, Arms to soon worked into the front limbs with his hands forced to curl, Pressing firm against the second joint or Knee of the Hooven legs allowing it to bend properly and making him closer to the right size. By the end not a single seam would be visible, The last but would be that heavy Head and muzzle pulled over his features, Allowing him to stare almost cross eyed thru the openings for eyes. Staring down the length of that muzzle which would measure several inches, Rounded bulbous, Before he could ask any questions, he was greeted to that same hand, dripping with pheromones that had worked over his sheath and cock, Slowly being worked into his mouth, Drenched in those oils coating his tongue and staining those lips, his mouth with the taste.
There had been a reason this was saved for last. He would stare, watching with wide eyes when that hand pressed into that rounded equine muzzle that jutted out from his face, And slowly started to sink in, inch by inch till it was stretched wide, squeezing the arm visibly. That hand would vanish nearly up to the elbow into that muzzle and into his mouth, While to anyone looking on it looked horribly cruel, Like the person was fishing for something out of the Pony's throat, the forearm only meant that hand would be nestled perfectly into his mouth making him gag, A Muffled scream of protest as his jaws creaked and ached, threatening to dislocate at any moment. He was able to feel that entire hand able to feel those knuckles firm against his lips and tongue.
That hand Working Rubbery Caps over his teeth, A device that would bind to his teeth attached to the muzzle, Not allowing his mouth to close entirely, yet allow limited control over the muzzle and its mouth. That hand and those probing fingers could be felt pressing against the back of his throat forcing him to drool and gag, Choking even as that oily pheromone mixture dripped down his throat. In the end he looked like a medium sized pony, Only without those keen sense's or the strength that came with being an animal.
His hearing would be all but muted. Only able to hear the world muffled around him, His friend, Or anyone would have to nearly shout to get their words to sink in. His body ached with every movement he made. And those movements would be slow, careful as he tried to step forward feeling the weight against those faux hooven limbs before finally his muzzle was fitted with a Bit, Bridle complete with reigns before being tugged along, forced to follow as his heart raced feeling as if he were nude in public from the safety of that long horse trailer to the hay matted floors of the arena.
His life in the hands of the one who had given him the twisted idea of becoming an animal and winning in a contest against real live Animals. One of his best friends who had more or less come with the elaborate bondage for the sole purpose of transforming him properly and of course, Hiding any proof of a past life that may of been left behind in the wake of the transformation, Several questions flooded his mind about the suit, about the way it fit and the way that rubbery sheath constantly would squeeze his length, every step, every buck of his hips he could feel his own length shifting in that drooling rubbery sheath which his length would be to small to ever slip free of yet it was open enough to allow those pheromones to drip freely and other bodily fluids.
The potent scents alone burned his eyes turning those deep emerald colored eyes into tear stained messes. Leaving his vision blurred ever so slightly, Yet he didnt have to worry about walking into things, His friend held tight at the reigns, Leading him by that bit every step of his way as his mind slowly slipped from concern with his own safety to those of a sexual nature, With his every step his own erect length hidden within that sheath would twist and turn bringing him nearly to the point of orgasm with merely a few steps.
He wouldn't be the first pony sized male horse being entered as a Mare and the inspection process was no different, Nor was the prize at the end. He would not be expected to run, nor jump hurdles but to pass a simple inspection by an ever so perverted Vet, Who would'nt stop till all were proven Docile, Submissive, Accepting and of course, Worthy of accepting the Prize at the end. The prize at the end a hefty purse worth more than two or three purebred Mare and a rare shot at fame, Fame of course coming from the honor of being not simply mounted, But Bred with a well known Draft horse from the racing circuits. It was all to happen right there in center stage in front of the entire community not including friends, Family and other onlookers all bidding after the fact to have their own beasts sated by the prize winning 'mare', Yet even if he lost It simply meant the boy turned horse, Would have little more than papers proving he was no longer human and now Livestock, Winning would mean a first date he certainly wouldn't ever forget.