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Reining In Ashley

By first impressions, most would be fooled by the feminine appeal of a certain horse. His name was Ashley, and he was the only stallion who ever looked like he belonged on the receiving end of a teasing board at the stud. I, his buyer, his master, too, was intrigued by this marish facade. Nevertheless, the illusion was only more enriching as I came to cherish the perfection of that flesh; desired it in its simplicity.

Ashley was mine. Mine forevermore, his smooth bronzed hide like silken gold, too magnificent for just any fool to touch, a statue of flesh no mortal could emulate within any sufficient margin of beauty. I took pleasure in touching Ashley's body, in his female vestments, in his lovely kind green long-lashed eyes. His clothes piqued my delight with great unyielding passion.

The lithe little stallion-mare had the look of grace, of elegance, of lust unbridled. His hair was worn in an overly filly-like style, long locks down his poll, barely concealing a white diamond between those seductive eyes of green. Long stockings and gloves concealed much of the extremities, lovely little red bows sewed, facing outward, right on the fabric toward the shoulders and thighs...oh, those heavenly thighs. Right above, his crotch is hidden, quite attractively, I might add, by a black silk G-string, the bulge of his sheath like a preview of wonderful things to cum, his silk-covered scrotum carelessly sagging under his abdomen like a fabrog'e egg in a small display case.

Those eyes plead! I cannot stand the way they tempt, the way they seduce, the way they beg for me and my raging girth of stallion shaft! Complete me! They declare. Own me like a little slut!

In time, it will please me to do so. But not now, oh, not now. Today I am far more occupied with looking alone. His flesh, a stoic temple of erotic worship. His bulging concealed cock a present ready to be laid bare before my approval.

Yes, Ashley, you are my toy, my desire. A pretty little cunt-boy to ravage with my throbbing tool!

At my palace, after taking him home from the slave auction, he is numb in his awareness. He does not know his place, nor, his obligations. Pity the idiot who sold this sexy palfrey never knew what he had before him, but I will make that reality known to my new favorite, the stallion whom will come to worship and beg of my deferential treatment.