A Night in the Stables
In all fairness, this was Heather's fault, Astrid reasoned, casting a withering glare at the other centaur in the stall across from her.
Everything was Heather's fault.
Not that Astrid wasn't here on her own free will. That went without saying. Their trainer, a scrawny, gangly man -who insisted they call him Hat, Hat, of all things- insisted every day, asking if the two of them wished to continue.
Despite her grumbling, glares, and one attempt at kicking Hat when he got too close to put the bit and bridle on her himself- despite all of that, everyday, Astrid put on the white corset, which squeezed her human waist, the one which so emphasized her breasts, slipped the bit into her mouth, and allowed Hat to cuff her arms to her waist.
And every day she went through the same paces, the same prances. At night she was rewarded with peppermint treats, and a brush down of her palomino coat. Astrid had to admit, despite her reservations at being in the hands of this… scrawny, human centaur trainer, neither Astrid's nor Heather's silky, coal black coat had ever looked so shiny, and well kept.
Even her hooves were well cared for, clean of muck and grime, and kept well trimmed and shoed.
"Good morning, Astrid, Heather," came the nasal drawl of their trainer.
"Morning Hat," Heather grinned, looking up from her breakfast, eager to begin the day.
Astrid gave grunt of acknowledgement, looking up from her own trough of warm mash. Hat was dressed as he usually was; fairly casually, with a dark green t-shirt, jeans, and his expensive riding boots.
It was odd that he continued to wear those, or so Astrid believed. It was only very, rarely that he attempted to saddle one of them. Usually, Heather- and only after asking permission.
Astrid had only allowed him on her back once. The event had brought up such bizarre mix of emotions, including, despite her dogged refusal to admit, strange feelings of wants, needs, and even arousal, which had stopped her from repeating the experience.
It was only after Heather had sent her a smug, sideways, knowing look that Astrid realised she had been staring at Hat as he had passed by their stalls; taking in the sight of his tight arse and strong legs as he checked their gear and water.
"It is a beautiful day, and we have some wonderful sights, don't you agree, Astrid?" Heather smirked, tossing her long, black hair over the pale flesh of her shoulders.
Astrid grunted again, returning to her mash, suddenly more interested in the deciphering the taste, than the trainer… and her centaur training partner. Behind her, her tail flicked agitatedly, a tell that always betrayed her mood to those who knew her well enough.
Unfortunately for her, both Heather and Hat could count themselves amongst them.
Heather laughed lightly, ducking back into her stall. In the corner of her eye, she could see Hat watching her amusedly.
""Alright, lots to work on today, let's get you two suited." Hat caught Astrid's eye as he came over with her gear. "And if we can do this without one of you trying to break my ribs, that would be spectacular."
For a third time Astrid merely grunted, but stamped her hoof in agreement. The quicker this was done, the quicker they would be out of their stalls.
Getting suited was a bit of a process. First came the tight corset; Astrid's was a bright white, picked to complement her blonde hair, blue eyes, and bright palomino coat, but with little in the way of "frivolous decorations", as Astrid referred to them.
"I would like the armbinder today," Astrid finally spoke, gasping a little as Hat pulled the strings of her corset tight, breaking her usual silence in this morning ritual.
Hat quirked an eyebrow, as his quick, long, dexterous fingers quickly knotted the corset in place. Even Heather reappeared at her stall door, her curiosity piqued.
"Any reason why?" Hat asked, checking his work, making sure the garment was not so tight as to cause pain or actual damage to the centaur trainee.
"Felt like something different today," Astrid shrugged; but noticing the looks both her trainer, and her peer were giving her, hastily added, "Heather wears one all the time, I figured it would look better if we were dressing to match."
The smirk on Heather's face, told her that her trotting partner did not believe the reasoning.
"Oh… is that all?" And it seemed neither did Hat.
"Yes," Astrid stated, looking off to the side, happy that her long bangs would help cover her blush.
"Somehow I get the feeling she is not being completely honest," Heather laughed.
Astrid merely stamped, this time in irritation, firmly putting an end to the discussion.
Hat chuckled, grabbing the bit. Astrid lowered her head obediently, opening her mouth. She both hated this… demeaning device- and loved it. Hated the fact that, she, Astrid of the proud herd Hofferson, was forced to endure such humiliation. Loved the feeling of helplessness, loved the feeling of being so easy to control and guide.
Hated that, as a proud warrior, she was turned into a prancing mare. Loved it, because while she wore it, she was Hat's prancing mare.
Hated it, for how it made her feel. So confused, and yet wanting.
Loved how it made her look. Loved how when she wore it, she would catch the eyes of her stable mate.
And the eye of her trainer.
Next came the arm binder. Astrid kneeled down on her front legs, giving Hat an easier reach. She felt the device pull tight, pinning her arms back, forcing her chest out, making it even more prominent than just the corset.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glance of Heather looking appreciatively at her.
It stirred something inside of her.
Something warm.
Something frightening.
It was another ten minutes before the two of them were led out of the stable by their harness and bits.
The two centaurs were a study in contrast; both in posture, and in colour.
Astrid was pale and gold, from her blonde hair, to her lower half's coat. Hat had harnessed her in white. Her corset and bound arms thrust her still covered, modest breast further out than she had ever dared. In her mouth was a white bit gag, held in place by a white bridle and harness. She emerged from the stable slowly. Each step deliberate, each pace measured.
Beside her, Heather pranced. She didn't walk. She didn't step. She pranced.
Where Astrid was blonde, gold, and white, Heather was black, silk and smoke. Her lower body shined glossy in the morning sun, and unlike Astrid, whose breasts were covered by the corset, hers were open to the world, displayed by the underbust she had requested. Her nipples were hardening to buds in the cool breeze.
Hat felt his mouth drying, as it did every morning. How lucky was he, that these two had come to him for training?
He led them through the warm up, leading them in step. He was impressed with how far the two had come in the two short weeks he'd had them. Astrid was so willful and competitive, whereas Heather, it seemed, was more interested in her prancing partner, and him, than she was in learning the moves.
Now the two of them walked in perfect synchronisation, his crop only needed for the most minute of adjustments to their paces.
Soon they would be finished with his class, and ready to register themselves for show. He was immensely proud of that.
Proud, and disheartened.
It meant that the two of them would leave him soon. Hat really didn't want to see the two of them leave. He had grown close not only to Astrid, but to Heather as well. He felt more comfortable with the two of them, than any other centaur he had ever taken into training.
If he was being honest with himself, he didn't want them to leave.
Especially Astrid.
Hat frowned as he led them through the last exercise of the day. Astrid was getting sloppy. She kept glancing at him. That wasn't like her.
Neither was the way her eyes kept sliding over to Heather.
He sighed. He knew he never really had a chance. She was a centaur.
He was human.
And it seemed like she was much more interested in the coal black mare, who was her partner, than the talkative beanstalk who was her trainer.
As she passed by him, he swatted her hind with the crop. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make a satisfying smack.
Hat's brow creased in puzzlement, just ever so slightly.
Astrid had corrected herself. Her legs were coming up to the desired height and at the right pace, falling in perfect step with Heather, the click and clop of their hooves striking in perfect synchronization.
But that wasn't why he was puzzled.
He might have been imagining it… but he swore that when he had corrected Astrid with his crop… He swore that she had moaned.
Not in pain.
But in pleasure.
Highly unlike her.
Suddenly Hat's eyes widened. He knew what was wrong. He knew what it was that Astrid needed. A plan quickly forming in his mind, he caught the eye of Heather as the two centaurs trotted past him.
He was going to need some help.
If there was one thing Astrid loved about the stable, it was the hot showers on demand. The soothing warmth on sore muscles was a blessing. There were days when Astrid would just stand in the warm water.
It was a luxury she'd never had with the herd.
As she turned off the tap, letting the water drain, there came the click-clap of hooves on tile. As Astrid turned to let Heather have the shower to herself, she was stopped by the sight of the other centaur.
Heather hadn't taken off her corset. Her ample breasts were uncovered and free in the cool night air. Her lips were glossy, and freshly painted. A hint of makeup and eye shadow brought out her sea green eyes. Her hair was shiny and freshly brushed, flowing down her back. But what had stood out; what had caught her eye- was the harness she wore on her rump, and the long, silicone cock, which was attached.
"Heather...What in the-"
Astrid's surprised question was cut off, as Heather placed her finger on Astrid's lips.
"Hat gave it to me," Heather shrugged. "Thought you could use...some relief."
Heather pushed closer, reaching a hand up to brush back one of Astrid's bangs.
"He's noticed you watching me. We both have. You are feeling frustrated, alone." Heather paused, as Astrid met her eyes. "But I also know, what you feel for me… You feel even more for Hat."
Heather leaned forward, and Astrid found herself moving to meet her, almost as if on instinct. Slowly, shyly, their lips met.
Their kiss was hesitant, at first, but slowly deepening. As Astrid's mouth opened, Heather proved herself to be the opportunist, quickly invading with her own. Their two bodies closed, they shared each other's warmth; they felt each other's flesh on their own.
Astrid's hands settled on Heather's waist, feeling where the firm human body and soft pale flesh, met the hair of her horse body's coat. Heather's hands buried themselves into Astrid's still damp hair.
Finally they broke apart, a thin trail of saliva still connecting them for the briefest of seconds.
"Heather…" Astrid panted. "This between us- Ah-!"
Astrid gasped as Heather caught her breast in her mouth, rolling her tongue on the nub of her nipple before sucking hard.
A second later, Heather released the breast with a wet pop, before capturing Astrid's lips.
"I know," Heather smiled sadly, stroking Astrid's long blonde hair. "But I don't care. As long as I get to share this night with you."
She kissed her again.
"Can I?"
There was only one answer Astrid could give.
It came from between her teeth, as Heather latched onto her other breast, catching the sensitive nub in her teeth.
"Yessssss."
The two stumbled back to Astrid's stall, keeping close, and unable to keep from touching one another; unable to break contact, and lose the warmth from one another.
As they neared the stall, Heather stopped, and reached towards a piece of Astrid's gear.
"I always thought you looked so beautiful in this," Heather grinned, holding out the bit and the bridle.
Astrid hesitated for a moment- only a moment- before nodding at the unasked question.
"Put it on then," Astrid said, opening her mouth and waiting patiently, as she had done for Hat just that morning.
She felt the bit slip into her mouth, the harness pulled over her head. Astrid watched as her lover took her reins, and slowly lead her into her stall, hitching it to the post by by the sink.
In the mirror, Astrid could see Heather's lustful smile drop. She became hesitant, nervous. Her front hoof pawed at the ground.
"Astrid...If you want to stop, just say so," Heather near whispered, not wanting the spell to break.
In answer, Astrid lowered herself onto her front knees, raising her rear, lifting her tail, presenting her sex to the other centaur.
Astrid wanted this. She wanted this night.
"Thank you," Heather whispered, before lowering herself down, marveling at the heat of Astrid's arousal, at the wanton need that leaked from her sex.
"So beautiful," Heather whispered, before latching her mouth onto Astrid's glistening folds, and tasted her for the first, and, for what they both knew, the last time.
Astrid gasped around the bit, before sighing in ecstasy. She could feel everything. Heather's tongue, teasing her clit, tracing circles and patterns around the little bundle of nerves. The fingers prodding at the entrance to her sex. The warm fluids of her arousal running down her legs.
Heather grinned as Astrid spasmed. As she whimpered. As she gasped around the bit. She smiled at the sight of her trembling legs, at her juices flowing, as her sex radiated both heat and need. She marveled at the feelings of Astrid's inner walls, as they squeezed her fingers.
Despite Astrid's squirming, she remained in position, her tail flicking with anticipation.
Finally the pleasure, which had been building, overwhelmed Astrid. She threw her head back, panting, as her body trembled. She reached out, grasping the pole that she was hitched to as though it were a lifeline. Her fists so tight around it, her knuckles were ghostly white.
Stars exploded in her vision, the sound of hot blood pumping pounding in her ears. Through it all she could still feel Heather's tongue on her folds, could still feel Heather's fingers in her sex, riding out the waves of pleasure, and riding out the orgasm.
All too soon, the euphoria left Astrid, leaving her drained, her body slick with sweat. Her lower body trembled on shaky legs, as she turned her head to look back at her lover.
Heather grinned.
Astrid looked so beautiful. The white bit in her mouth, the white leather of the harness, and reins keeping her tied to the post. The strings of her long, golden hair that were stuck to her forehead. The way she gripped the hitching post.
But…
Most of all.
The look of wild lust in her large blue eyes.
Heather's grin turned into a smile, as she dipped her fingers so slowly into Astrid's eager sex, just skimming the edges, collecting the thin film of arousal with the tips of her fingers. The palmiro body pushed back, eager for the ministrations of Heather's fingers to continue.
"Uh-uh-uh…" Heather tutted, removing her finger, swatting at Astrid's bottom.
Astrid groaned, pushing her rear closer, wiggling it teasingly. Heather obliged her, striking again with an open hand.
"You like that don't you?" Heather asked, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, as Astrid thrust her bottom back towards her. "Well then, I know what this calls for. Don't move."
When Heather returned, she was holding Hat's crop. She twisted it in her hands, contemplating the thin leather of the device, remembering the noise that had come from Astrid earlier that day, when he had corrected Astrid's gait...
...Observing how eager Astrid was to receive the punishment again.
Heather almost asked who Astrid was seeing with the crop in hand- whether it was herself… or the scrawny human trainer. Was she seeing Hat, with that crooked grin, the easy shrug of his thin shoulders? Or the silky black hair and sensual confidence of the coal black mare?
She almost asked. But, in truth, she already knew the answer.
Hearing it would be too painful.
She brought the crop down on Astrid's rump. A quick swish and a loud smack echoed in the stall. Astrid's head jerked up from the sudden pain, her groan a mix of pleasure, and pain, and need.
Heather caressed the spot. Then brought the crop up again, striking the other side. Her eyes closed as she took in Astrid's groans, her whimpers of pleasure, the muttered, muffled, incoherent chants of "more".'
She struck again, and again. She could feel her own arousal growing. Her own need growing.
Soon.
Ten times the crop came down. Five on each side. Each time, Astrid's noises became more incoherent, more desperate.
It was time.
Astrid was barely aware. Barely aware of her surroundings, of her own thoughts. She was in a sea of pleasure, of euphoria, of need.
How much she had needed this night!- this night to drop the pretense of pride, and give in to the more base instincts of pleasure. She cast a glance behind her as she felt Heather's weight on top of her. Mounting her; like a common breeding mare.
Astrid groaned as she felt the tip of the silicone phallus prod at her entrance, poking for a way inside. She felt Heather's breath on her neck, heard her voice in her ear- although what she was saying was indiscernible.
She panted as the phallus was slowly driven into her; she moaned as she felt her walls stretched, and clamped down. She begged through the bit- begging for harder, for faster- for Heather to rut her.
To fuck her.
She felt the feather light kisses on the back of her neck. Heather's tongue on her ear, her lobe in Heather's teeth.
She felt Heather's hands on her breasts, the pain as she pulled the hard buds of her nipples, as Heather rolled them, as she stretched them.
Heather thrusted harder, the secondary dildo in the harness pushing into her, as she took Astrid, as she claimed Astrid.
At least...
For this one night.
Sweat glistened on Heather's skin as she thrusted into Astrid. The air was full of the smell of sex, the sounds of the two female centaurs filling the stables.
Beneath her, Astrid moved her rear in time with Heather's thrusts, her panting, her sounds, becoming more and more desperate.
Finally she came.
Astrid gasped.
She moaned.
She fell forwards into the post, gripping it with all her strength, as Heather rode out her orgasm, continuing to thrust, to ride, moaning as her own orgasm built, as the dildo Hat had helped insert pushed her into greater levels of sexual euphoria.
As Astrid collapsed, Heather's own orgasm took her. She fell forwards on top of Astrid's back, thrusting the toy as deep as she could.
The two lay there quietly for several moments; panting, trying to recuperate, trying to gather at least enough strength to talk.
Heather unbuckled the bit and the bridle, removing the harness and reins. She slowly stood up; Astrid gasped as she felt the strap-on pull out, leaving her feeling empty.
"Thank you." Heather whispered, as she fell beside Astrid, hugging her close, and pulling her into a light kiss.
Astrid shook her head.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I can't be here for you."
Heather smiled as she laid her head on Astrid's shoulder.
"I know."