Club Latex
by Cordelia Speedicut
Chapter 5
Fran stood in the shade of a big maple tree, eating a late lunch and thinking. She’d spent the morning pulling her Mistress’s little cart, which had been a rush—she loved the tinkling of her bridle bells, and the sounds of her hooves as she trotted over one of the little wooden bridges over the creek. And she loved the feel of her muscles straining against her creaking harness, as she hauled her Mistress up the trail to the top of Big Tit Hill. Once at the base of the nipple-shaped spire, she’d been allowed a cool drink from the little spring while they looked out over the view. From up there, you could see the whole valley—from spring to creek to pond—and all of it was her Mistress’s private world, excepting the black ribbon of roadway in the distance.
Now her afternoon was passing quietly in one of the bottom meadows she’d seen from the hilltop. The sky was clear, and there were barn swallows wheeling and swooping. Eat some grass—stand in the stream and have a deep drink—eat some more grass—have a pee. It’s a full life.
But she had a problem. She was fairly sure she’d hauled her Mistress’s cart and admired that view from the hilltop lots of times before, but she wasn’t actually sure. The thing was, she couldn’t seem to remember much of anything that had happened to her before that very morning, when she’d woken to find herself standing in the barn. It was weird—she knew she was in her own stall, all right, but it felt like she was seeing it for the first time. Then her Mistress had come in to groom her. And although Fran had immediately recognized her beloved owner’s smiling face, she couldn’t have said what they had done together yesterday—or any day before that.
So here she stood, trying to remember. And nothing was coming to her. Nada. Still, she felt great—why worry? No doubt it would all come back, in time. She continued to graze the sweet grass, moving steadily from one choice morsel to another.
Eventually she munched her way into a corner where a wood fence met an old stone one. She had her head between the rails, trying to reach a prime bit of grass on the other side, when she heard voices close by. And then two creatures she somehow knew to be humans stepped out of the bushes ... and stopped, dumbstruck.
Fran considered the situation. She seemed to recall that people weren’t welcome in the valley (that she could remember—that its to say, since dawn). And her Mistress had never driven her near the road she’d seen from the hilltop. So she was pretty sure that, for some reason, outsiders weren’t supposed to see her wearing her harness. But she was wearing nothing at all, and these two seemed harmless—they were females, clearly of breeding age. So that was all right.
They stared at her for a long moment. Finally one of the girls, whose worn dress and tangled red hair made her look like a wild thing, boldly stepped forward to the fence and said, “What are you?”
Fran opened her mouth to say, “What kind of a question is that?” Instead she neighed, and then began to suspect that it was actually a rather good question.
The other girl, whose long and blond hair was equally untamed, said, “It can’t talk, silly.” After leaning down to examine Fran’s chest, she added the obvious. “Hey! She’s got boobs!” With that she slid her hand over one of the smooth and prominent tits in question.
Red studied Fran carefully, her head cocked to one side. “Why would somebody take the trouble to shave off all of her hair, paint her black, and then dip her mane and tail in rubber?”
“I don’t think anybody shaved her,” said Blondie, who had moved along to rub Fran’s side. “No stubble. Her skin feels like plastic or something. But kinda nice.”
Meanwhile Red was stroking Fran’s neck and telling her what a pretty creature she was. “You know what we’re saying, though, don’t you? Well, you’re not a unicorn, anyway.” She scratched the spot on Fran’s head where a horn wasn’t.
Blondie gave one fat nipple a final friendly tweak, and then shrugged and pulled up the tuft of grass Fran had been trying to reach. Feeding it to her, she said, “Maybe she’s related to those llamas we saw at the fair.”
“Nah—llamas don’t have boobs. Nothing’s got boobs but women,” said Red. “I read it in a book,” she added, defensively. “Look at her skinny waist, and her face. She looks more like Auntie April. Except for her hooves. And the shiny skin.” As she spoke, she fished into the knapsack, shuffled aside a towel, and produced a carrot from her lunch. Fran gobbled it up with delight.
“And her tail, and the ears, and the nose,” Blondie said.
“I don’t know about that. Auntie April has a pretty big nose.” The two laughed.
By this time, Blondie was standing with her feet on the bottom rail, reaching over to rub Fran’s neck. “I think you’re beautiful!” The three were friends for life.
When Fran heard the hooves in the distance, she looked up to see a big black stallion trotting across the pasture.
The unfamiliar beast pranced over towards her, nostrils flaring. Fran could see he was excited by something—his giant black cock extended so far it was brushing the grass. Hey, she thought, put that away ... there’s people watching. And then she wondered where that idea had come from.
From behind her, Red, who was of course a farm girl, announced, “She’s for it, now,” and giggled.
What’s that?—thought Fran. But another look at Sable confirmed it—she was for it, all right. Confused, she backed away. She was more than ready for a good fucking, but she couldn’t actually remember having ever seen this beast, much less taken him on. Plus she had the odd notion she shouldn’t do it front of her new friends, although she couldn’t imagine why not.
In the event, it hardly mattered what Fran thought. The stallion wasn’t about to be discouraged. He wasn’t much for foreplay, either, and managed to mount her easily—rearing up and dropping his forelegs astride her back. She was now quite positive this had never happened before. Just the front of him was so heavy that she staggered and had to brace herself to hold him up. Then he bit the back of her neck—to make doubly sure she didn’t try to escape, she supposed. Not that she planned to, by then—she was suddenly much too hot for that massive cock. Instead, she obligingly lifted her tail aside for him, and he responded, thrusting his haunches forward. After a few frustrating near misses, he lodged the end of his yard in her pussy. Having found his mark, he drove forward, and she staggered again as he buried the huge thing completely. It felt like it was pushing her innards aside to make room for itself.
“Sweet,” said Red, but for Fran it was way better than that. It was magnificent. She neighed in delight at the feel of his huge throbbing tool inside her, and forgot all about her audience. When he came, deep in her belly, she stretched her neck back and positively brayed her pleasure.
“Wow!” said Blondie, who’d likewise grown up on a farm and wasn’t easily impressed by such things.
“Wow!” agreed Red.
After the stallion had finished his business and clambered off of Fran, the big horse nuzzled her side, clearly proud of his conquest. Then, through her orgasmic fog, she heard someone call her name. She turned to see her Mistress leaning over the old fieldstone wall; the woman was wearing a cowboy hat and a black leather vest that was spread open by her proud breasts. Fran gave her a happy whinny in greeting.
“Hello, girls. I see you’ve met my Fran.”
“Hi, Ms. Lewis,” chorused Fran’s new friends.
Red added, “She’s beautiful! But, what is she? Is she magic?” This far into the woods, the question didn’t seem unreasonable. Red had seen some strange things over the years.
Blondie got to the point. “Is she pregnant?”
Pregnant? Fran hadn’t even considered that possibility. Was she?
Mistress Lewis smiled. “One question at a time! Fran is a pony-girl. And yes, she’s magical. I’ve only just—ah, conjured her.”
Say what? Both girls blinked at this, apparently as surprised at the notion as Fran was. Was Ms. Lewis some kind of sorceress?
“And, in answer to your question, young lady,”—this to Blondie—“She may be. It’s a bit too soon to tell.”
Red put in her two bits worth. “Maybe you should breed her again to make sure.”
Mistress laughed. “I’m certain I will. Would you like to watch when I do?”
Both girls blushed, but both nodded yes.
“Well, keep your eyes open the next time you visit my pond.” The girls grinned cheekily at this. Obviously they’d not been officially invited to swim. “And I’m sure Fran would be glad of the odd carrot, regardless. Oh, and Alice?”—she stared at Red. “May?”—Blondie got The Look. “Needless to say, this is our secret, right?”
That last wiped the smiles off their faces. Fran’s Mistress hadn’t changed her friendly tone, but there was just the slightest impression that they could both end up being turned into toads if anybody learned about her or her pony.
“Of course!”
“You bet, Ms. Lewis!”
They made their goodbyes, picked up their knapsacks, and after a last nervous wave, they slipped off down the trail.
Lewis watched them go, chuckling, and then vaulted over the wall. From her waist down, her skin was much like Fran’s—bare and shiny. Her flanks and hocks were like Fran’s, too, as were her hooves. She also had the same long tail; but above her pussy, nearly hiding it, was a cock that pure stallion, although it was presently sheathed.
Patting her pet’s firm neck, she said, “I thought you might like to meet your new stable mate. Just delivered today. His name is Sable. I’m glad to see you two have become friends.”
Fran nuzzled her mistress in agreement.
“I certainly didn’t expect to run in to those two, though” she continued. “They’re cousins, from over the north ridge. I’ve spotted them sneaking a swim in the pond, once in a while. That sorceress story had them going, huh?”
It had Fran going, too, seeing as pretty much anything before today was still a blank. A few flashes of pulling a pony-cart; otherwise, zilch. She knew stuff—like that animals started out as babies, for instance. Only she couldn’t actually remember having been one.
As if she could read Fran’s mind, Mistress said, “It’s all right, girl. You’ve just gone through more than you could imagine. They told me that, other than memory loss, it shouldn’t affect you emotionally or mentally. Not too much, anyway. You’re still my Fran. Of course, I imagine you’ve developed something of an equine worldview.”
Still Fran? The pony-girl had no idea what her owner was on about.
Mistress picked up two halters from behind the wall and led both Sable and Fran back to the stable. As they started up the field, she said, “I hope Sable hasn’t completely driven thoughts of your old lover from your mind.”
Fran opened her mouth to answer, and then wondered—Why did I do that? She shook her head and nuzzled her Mistress instead. No, she thought, you can service me whenever you like. Even with Sable’s cum still trickling down her back legs, she was horny.
Mistress laughed, clearly understanding her. “Well, we won’t invite those two when I cover you. In the meantime, we’ve got some dressage to work on.”