Zoophilian
The Ridden
- Joined
- Feb 7, 2013
She had learned of it all by accident, Stumbling on the sight of one of the kingdoms finest war horse's rutting a mare, At first it was mere background noise, Something she scoffed at, turning up her nose with disgust, Yet the more she tried to ignore the sights, the sounds of the animals rutting, the more it captured her attention. Soon those sights and smells made her young heart flutter, a blush fill her cheeks, Yet it wasn't until the beast dismounted that she was left in awe, The sight of the mighty Warhorse's cock as it pulled from the mares cunt, offering a gush of thick seed to splatter against its own barreled chest, the mares cunt gushing milky seed awakend something inside of her, something twisted and wanting.
Yet she was the future queen, the young girl couldnt want such twisted things, It was beyond taboo. A twisted act something she would sentence a harlot to do before the court yet she wanted it. From that day forward she passed along missives to the keeper of the stables, Ensuring she got to witness the warhorse's mating when ever she walked the yards of the castle it fueled her own growing desire to the point she would finally act on it.
She had barely flinched or even when the mare was slain, even as its blood splattered against her shapely form, She hadn't moved outside of ordering the command for her few trusted guards to rally those choosen craftsmen and the castles Alchemist for the task. By time they had gathered she would already be nude, Sheer lace robes discarded in haste, She would of been something truly beautiful to look at, If they had been allowed more than a moment before her orders given. Her hair a salty blonde hue with long slightly curled locks that would come past her shoulders reaching to the curve of that shapely backside, Her flesh a soft sun stained caramel hue, Her curves plentiful with long coltish legs that arched ever so slightly, Shapely hips with a every so slightly pump valentine shaped rump. Heavy breasts every bit the handful, nearly the size of a young boys head able to sway and bounce ever so slightly with any given movement she made dark silver dollar sized nipples stood almost painfully erect against her flesh.
It would take hours, Hours of her standing there, Almost unmoving as they worked, Knives and sewing needles working vigorously over the flesh of that slain mare till it came time for her to move, It took nearly a handful of her personal guard to hold the mare upright as she stepped inside of its flesh, Leather harness stitched within would work to ease her shapely hips back against the flanks of the mare, Her heavy breast crushed inside the barreled chest. Head extending into the neck, resting at the back of the skull allowing her to see thru the eyes, down that long muzzle with almost a joyous cry, It was going to work. Arms extending down those fore hoooves, to that last joint, the predominate knee of the Mares leg, Hands balled into fist seeming to never uncurl again as each movement would cause the heavy hooven leg to move like clockwork. She would be bent at the hip with her long coltish legs extending down the hindquarters of the mare, Its hooven legs becoming her own as her feet would press against that final knot, the end of flesh and beginning of Hoof. Probing fingers ensuring that her taunt asshole and plump folds lined up with those of the mare.
From there her crimson stained flesh would slowly vanish, Chemical necromancy used to heal the wound along the mares back, causing the flesh to slowly draw shut around the shapely queen, they could only watch, stare as blood pooled around the small of her back, That muzzled head bobbing ever so slightly, Soon the flesh brought back to life, sealed around her as if naught had happend. The tail was allowed to swish and sway, a twitch of an ear, Potions and concoctions allowing life to remain in the flesh of the mare, To the point that no simple commoner or even the most well trained stable master could tell the difference at this point. Again and again she was told the risks, The risk of not just attempting to goad an animal into mounting her, But playing with flesh now enchanted around her to play the part of the living. Yet before she was allowed free reign hushed whispered followed and the plump cunt lips of the mare, Of the queen would be splashed with a liquid, the nozzle of a bottle fitting inside ever so slightly before being emptied. Glue, A binding agent that would be meant to last only a day, Two at the most, sealing the mares cunt preventing their shapely queen from being impaled, Or perhaps there would be some malice behind it, The craftsmen knowing their fate the moment they had heard of her twisted plan. No sooner than it was all complete would she take a few steps in her new flesh able to feel the gore shifting around her, massaging her heavy breast with every breath she took, It was complete, she certainly wouldn't be able to gallop or run, Yet certainly could stand idle and take a rutting she was assured. Yet orders had been given before hand, Promises made, No sooner than she would be lead by bit and bridle away from the blood soaked area just inside the castle would those craftsmen and alchemist meet their end, ensuring the secrete remain only with those guards who had been told to enact the scene again in no more than two days, to carve her from the flesh of the mare after she had her fill.
Which would bring her to her current situation, Hours later in that prone position, having been snuck back into the stables, into the stall of that brood mare, her heart racing with every breath she took, her flesh ached from the prone position, from learning to walk all over again in a new way, yet it would be worth it as she sun started to rise to peer into the stables telling her it was nearly time for it to begin as the sounds of the kingdom spurred to life all around her, Shops opening, guards shouting, Animals causing a racket with the fresh scents of blood and sex in the air.
Yet she was the future queen, the young girl couldnt want such twisted things, It was beyond taboo. A twisted act something she would sentence a harlot to do before the court yet she wanted it. From that day forward she passed along missives to the keeper of the stables, Ensuring she got to witness the warhorse's mating when ever she walked the yards of the castle it fueled her own growing desire to the point she would finally act on it.
She had barely flinched or even when the mare was slain, even as its blood splattered against her shapely form, She hadn't moved outside of ordering the command for her few trusted guards to rally those choosen craftsmen and the castles Alchemist for the task. By time they had gathered she would already be nude, Sheer lace robes discarded in haste, She would of been something truly beautiful to look at, If they had been allowed more than a moment before her orders given. Her hair a salty blonde hue with long slightly curled locks that would come past her shoulders reaching to the curve of that shapely backside, Her flesh a soft sun stained caramel hue, Her curves plentiful with long coltish legs that arched ever so slightly, Shapely hips with a every so slightly pump valentine shaped rump. Heavy breasts every bit the handful, nearly the size of a young boys head able to sway and bounce ever so slightly with any given movement she made dark silver dollar sized nipples stood almost painfully erect against her flesh.
It would take hours, Hours of her standing there, Almost unmoving as they worked, Knives and sewing needles working vigorously over the flesh of that slain mare till it came time for her to move, It took nearly a handful of her personal guard to hold the mare upright as she stepped inside of its flesh, Leather harness stitched within would work to ease her shapely hips back against the flanks of the mare, Her heavy breast crushed inside the barreled chest. Head extending into the neck, resting at the back of the skull allowing her to see thru the eyes, down that long muzzle with almost a joyous cry, It was going to work. Arms extending down those fore hoooves, to that last joint, the predominate knee of the Mares leg, Hands balled into fist seeming to never uncurl again as each movement would cause the heavy hooven leg to move like clockwork. She would be bent at the hip with her long coltish legs extending down the hindquarters of the mare, Its hooven legs becoming her own as her feet would press against that final knot, the end of flesh and beginning of Hoof. Probing fingers ensuring that her taunt asshole and plump folds lined up with those of the mare.
From there her crimson stained flesh would slowly vanish, Chemical necromancy used to heal the wound along the mares back, causing the flesh to slowly draw shut around the shapely queen, they could only watch, stare as blood pooled around the small of her back, That muzzled head bobbing ever so slightly, Soon the flesh brought back to life, sealed around her as if naught had happend. The tail was allowed to swish and sway, a twitch of an ear, Potions and concoctions allowing life to remain in the flesh of the mare, To the point that no simple commoner or even the most well trained stable master could tell the difference at this point. Again and again she was told the risks, The risk of not just attempting to goad an animal into mounting her, But playing with flesh now enchanted around her to play the part of the living. Yet before she was allowed free reign hushed whispered followed and the plump cunt lips of the mare, Of the queen would be splashed with a liquid, the nozzle of a bottle fitting inside ever so slightly before being emptied. Glue, A binding agent that would be meant to last only a day, Two at the most, sealing the mares cunt preventing their shapely queen from being impaled, Or perhaps there would be some malice behind it, The craftsmen knowing their fate the moment they had heard of her twisted plan. No sooner than it was all complete would she take a few steps in her new flesh able to feel the gore shifting around her, massaging her heavy breast with every breath she took, It was complete, she certainly wouldn't be able to gallop or run, Yet certainly could stand idle and take a rutting she was assured. Yet orders had been given before hand, Promises made, No sooner than she would be lead by bit and bridle away from the blood soaked area just inside the castle would those craftsmen and alchemist meet their end, ensuring the secrete remain only with those guards who had been told to enact the scene again in no more than two days, to carve her from the flesh of the mare after she had her fill.
Which would bring her to her current situation, Hours later in that prone position, having been snuck back into the stables, into the stall of that brood mare, her heart racing with every breath she took, her flesh ached from the prone position, from learning to walk all over again in a new way, yet it would be worth it as she sun started to rise to peer into the stables telling her it was nearly time for it to begin as the sounds of the kingdom spurred to life all around her, Shops opening, guards shouting, Animals causing a racket with the fresh scents of blood and sex in the air.