Jewel - Ortar

The Jewel Saga continues!!!

After the... experience with Om, Jewel was feeling a strange sort of levity.  She wondered if the lingering effects of the sap... lingered for longer than other intoxicants would, or if it was just that Om had proved far less ferocious and terrifying than she'd expected, and her relief put a spring in her step.  She felt the sap still slowly oozing out of her, and the knowledge that it was just that - tree sap - was a little less humiliating than... some of the more mammalian fluids she'd recently had drooling out of her butthole.  She recalled Jamar's leavings, hot and runny, which she had partially knocked out of her over-stuffed stomach as she rode him home, her swollen belly bouncing against him, her bloated bowels cramping around his runny pooch-goo.  In comparison, Om's tree-goo was... more palatable.  Being anally receptive for a dog was humiliating - being anally receptive for a tree was outside of that spectrum entirely.

Either way, when the stag dropped her off, not far from Robert's stables, Jewel was in a good mood.  She nuzzled the stag's snout, gave him a peck on his muzzle, and sent him off... and saw that he was in quite the good mood, too.  As she eyed the retreating stag's eager member, the dreamstone put an image in her mind that would have normally soured her mood, but she quickly shook it aside – the morning was beautiful, she wasn't very much sore from the previous day's encounter, her insides were well-flushed out, and she was in the mood for some pleasant company, so she went to see Robert and his daughters, skipping without reserve towards the scent of horse that the wind carried on the warm morning air. Even that smell didn't bother her, and as she got closer, the smell of smoked bacon and cooked eggs overcame it, just as the quaint cottage came into view.

She was full of pep as she knocked on the cottage door, and it was Leslie that answered.  Robert was sitting at their table, along with two younger girls, a solitary seat empty.

"Morning!” Robert called out, wiping some egg from his beard with his sleeve, before Leslie had a chance to react.

"Morning,” Jewel replied, and Leslie then realized who the guest at the door was.

"You're the one who borrowed Wolf,” she said, in a rhetorical tone.

Jewel nodded, and Leslie turned back to her father.  Robert waved for her to come in, and Leslie stood aside so that Jewel could enter, then closed the door behind her.

"What brings you here on this fine morning?” asked Robert, and Jewel was glad to hear that the morning was indeed fine, and that she wasn't just still drunk.

"I've just returned from some... er... business in the forest, and the steed they provided me brought me here,” she said, truthfully, albeit missing some crucial details about the nature of her stay, her return, and the manner of steed.

"A steed brought you here?   Perhaps it was one of mine.”

"I... doubt that,” she said, hesitantly.  She didn't think Robert was in the business of raising wild stags.  "It was a peculiar, foreign breed.”

"Hmm... perhaps it smelled my own stock and came close to investigate.  Either way, I'm glad it did.  Care to have breakfast with us?” he said, gesturing to the far, dark corner of the room, where Leslie absconded off to, returning with a dust covered chair just like all the others around the table.  She patted it down with a rag, and set it aside hers.  Jewel accepted the invitation, sitting down between Leslie's seat and a younger girl, opposite the little girl she'd seen before, with Robert at the other end, next to the littlest one.  Leslie retrieved a plate from the cupboard and placed it in front of Jewel, then remained standing to serve Jewel mushed egg from a bowl, but Robert raised his hand to stop her.  "I'll serve her, daughter.   You finish yours.”  With that, Leslie sat, and Robert reached across the table to serve Jewel some eggs, then plucked the last two strips of bacon off his plate and plopped them onto Jewel's.

Jewel was a little overwhelmed by his hospitality-  rarely, in her days before being 'Jewel', did a stranger offer her something for nothing in return, and with such grace and magnanimity.  In her exuberance, she clasped Robert's hand.

"Thanks so much for everything, Robert.  You've been... really kind.”

"To be flattered by a pretty young girl is all the thanks I need,” he said, scratching his cheek with his other hand.  As he sat back down, his eldest daughter shot him a look.  "What?” he said, indignantly, when he saw her face, "I'm old, not dead.”

"A man your age shouldn't be 'flattered' by a girl as young as your daughter,” she said, although she gave Jewel a sympathetic look.

"My eldest daughter.  Who was birthed when I was still a beardless lad!” he said, although his angry justifications gave way to shame when he looked back to Jewel and realized what he was saying.  Jewel smiled at him, pleasantly.   He didn't know she was actually a boy, nor that he wasn't... exactly... Jewel's type.  If he had a harmless crush on her, she didn't mind, although that might still have been the sap talking.

The two younger daughters, a teenager and a young girl, looked glib and excited, respectively, as Jewel caught their eyes.

"Ah, forgive me.  This my youngest daughter, Liz,” he said, patting the head of the young, freckled girl, "and this is Lindsay, my second daughter.”

"Hiya!” said Lindsay, with a single wave of her hand.   Jewel had the feeling she knew something that she wasn't saying.

"Hi,” said the littlest one, bashful to speak.

"This is Jewel.  She's a bit of a traveller, and she's treated our horses well, so treat her well, y'hear?”

The two girls nodded.  Leslie peered at Jewel, as if trying to work something out, but when Jewel looked at her, she turned red-faced and looked away.

After that, they ate breakfast in relative silence.  Jewel thanked Robert again when she'd had her full – it was good to have some meat in her that wasn't still attached to a living creature, and some milk that was actually milk – like, from a cow.  As Leslie gathered up the plates, she took Jewel's in hand and spoke.

"Did anything... happen to Wolf, when you had him?”

Jewel thought about it.  "Nothing in particular.  I rode him a little hard for about a day, but he seemed fit enough.   Why?”

Robert waved his hand in the air dismissively, stifling a belch.

"Oh, Wolf's been a bit odd since you had him.  Has no interest in the mares anymore, although I'm sure that's a bit of coincidence.  Maybe he spotted a wild mare that caught his fancy.”

Jewel suddenly felt very hot, in an uncomfortable way.  She slipped a finger under her choker and pulled it aside, flushed.  She doubted that Wolf had spotted a wild mare that caught his fancy... she knew, quite well, that her bottom seemed to cross the species barrier when it came to attracting fancy.

"Don't you mind it.  Here, after I fetch some water from the well, I'll give you a tour of the stables.  You two girls attend your chores, now,” he said, and the youngest two, excused from the dinner table, jumped off the chairs and ran out, the older one inspecting Jewel's face up close before she left.

"Do you need help with the water?” Jewel asked, and Robert shook his head.

"Old, not dead,” he repeated, smirking. "Take a look at the stable on your own.  I'll be right there after.”

Jewel nodded, and Robert scratched his beard, looking lost in thought, as he half-waddled off to the well.  Jewel had seen the front of Robert's stables, but never inside... the last time she'd been in stables had been quite... uncomfortable.

The inside of the stables smelled stronger than the outside.   It wasn't a bad smell... it wasn't a good smell either, though.  There were only a handful of horses; nothing like the royal stables, but warm and inviting in a way that was worth so much more.

Jewel approached Wolf, and was... pleased to see that he wasn't obviously pleased to see her, although he did take notice of her, and turned his head to get a good look at her.

Experimentally, Jewel turned around, and then watched Wolf over her shoulder.  While the stallion didn't react noticeably, she saw, much to her chagrin, that something underneath him began to stir visibly.  It filled until drooping, and then remained that way, the stallion's rapt attention on Jewel.   To further the experiment, Jewel steadied herself on the far wall of the stable and bent at the waist... and as soon as she did, the creature's stirring mass became a long, thick, rigid thing, full mast and rapt for mating.   And that wasn't all that happened: only a few seconds after that physiological miracle, Wolf himself stood at attention – that is, he hooked his front legs on top of the stable door and thrust his rigid member through the bars of it, and it slid along the horizontal bar, up into some imaginary mare's guts, Jewel imagined.  It was the second time she'd swallowed, hard, upon seeing a horse and his... boy.  She remembered the first time – that first night, prior to the morning auction, when she'd first regained her "freedom”.  That stallion had mounted another male horse, and although she wasn't sure if it had successfully penetrated it, she guessed that a cursory examination of its asshole would have cleared that ambiguity right up.  She hadn't gotten a chance to, nor was she sure if she really wanted to know.  A cursory examination of her bottom after her stay with Jamar likely would have, as well; she could still remember the popping sound it had made when he pulled the knot free, like a champagne cork, and it had felt open for a while afterwards.  And Jamar's knot had only stretched it open very briefly – she would bet that a thing like that would stretch it quite a bit more consistently.   She remembered who had gotten into a bidding war with Om, and again, the dreamstone gave her a vision, and again, she embarrassedly waved it away.  She sympathized with the mares in their stables, but definitely didn't want to play the part of one.  She stood upright, just in time for Robert to enter the stables.

Jewel straightened up even more and spun around, to hide what she'd been doing.  Now directly facing the beast's thing, she made a quick measurement with her eyes... and, with a bit of a flush and a sweat, she realized she could feel her insides uncomfortably fitting such a thing - whether that was a trick of the dreamstone or her own imagination, she didn't know.  She tightened up her sphincter best she could - which, now that Jamar had his way with her, she felt was less than it had been before - but could still feel the phantom gut-filling, going knock-kneed.  The pressure disappeared, and she sighed, but then, with her hands lifting into the air of their own accord, she felt her shit getting pushed in more than ever, and her eyes crossed... and then, nothing.

It had happened all at once, and Jewel was suddenly flush with sweat.  Jewel knew she had a mission - there was no way horsemeat could become part of her "diet".

"Get down, Wolf.  What are you doing?” he said, apparently not noticing Wolf's honking schlong, pointed straight at Jewel.  Wolf dismounted from the door, disappointed.  "He's normally so well-behaved," Robert said, apologetically, and Jewel shook her head.

"I have that effect on m..." she said, about to say "men," but, of course, Wolf wasn't a man. "...my steeds."

"Well, he's certainly taken a liking to you," Robert said, and Jewel hid her face behind her hand.  He certainly did.

---

Once Jewel had returned to the city, an informant told her that the new auction wouldn't be for several days, and that Jewel should find "work" for herself.  He said it with a certain grin under his cowl, but Jewel had no intention to "work" more than she needed to - her occupation was still "thief," after all.

Soon, Jewel was getting back into her old routine - older than jewel thief; she had regressed into a common cutpurse.  Less glamorous, for sure, but it put food on the table - a table that she also stole from a wealthy merchant's house by pretending she was one of his servants, and then one of his enforcers when the servants found her out.  It brought a touch of class to the small sewer hovel she'd claimed - previously no doubt occupied by workers, now long abandoned, but the smell wasn't too bad, it was difficult to spot the entrance even if you brought light down into the tunnels, and it was large enough to fit Jewel and all of her worldly possessions, which, admittedly, were little.  She slept there in lieu of Madam Lestrie's, as though she'd met a kind half-Taarshi girl named Xera there, Lestrie herself was barely more civil and pleasant than Jamar.

As far as Jewel was aware, Veritas' informant didn't know where her hideout was, because whenever he visited her - mostly to bring her new, equally fabric-lite clothing - it was outside of the sewer.   That made it a place all her own, for what that was worth... and a potential place to hide if the need should arise.

Every night, the dreamstone sent her visions... well, not visions, really, mostly sounds.  Neighing... a man laughing as hoofbeats grew louder... a squelching noise that made her stomach hurt... a -different- squelching noise that made her stomach hurt even more.  And then, a third, one that relieved some of the tension in her belly.

Dreamstone visions aside, her nights were full of sleep, because she did her best thieving during the day.  Of course, If anyone caught a glimpse of what she was wearing under ther cloak, the attention made it more difficult to steal anything... unless that person was the only person who noticed, and then stealing from them, Jewel found, was even easier.

Every morning, she picked a different purse.  Well, that wasn't entirely true.  The one blacksmith's apprentice she picked multiple times.  A fresh-faced, fair-haired lad he was, whose purse was light, but who guarded it with the tenacity normally reserved for yawning or idlly scratching your chin.  The first time Jewel stole from him, he had a small collection of coins, and he had watched Jewel's face with lurid fascination.  The next time, she worried that he would recognize her, but he pointedly looked away from her after he caught a glimpse of her face.  Jewel worried it was a trap, and approached him cautiously, careful not to let him grab her wrist or otherwise subdue her once she'd nicked it - to her surprise, he'd looked right at her after she'd hidden away his newly-liberated purse into her bag, and... smiled shyly.  There were more coins that time, and Jewel decided it might be worth it to pay a visit to the young blacksmith's apprentice more often.

Aside from just subsisting, Jewel plotted.   She bought and haggled for pieces of information about Jayden, his current dealings and his vices and his common whereabouts.  Like Jewel, he had a tendency to keep a lower profile... except when he didn't, extravagantly.  Unlike Jewel, he wasn't wearing outfits that would make a whore blush, and, one more than one occasion, did.

Day after day passed, until, finally, Veritas's informant, the same as before, appeared before Jewel and told her that her presence was required that night for another auction.  Jewel took the news with a certain sinking despondence - Om hadn't been as bad as expected as an ordeal, even if she did still get thoroughly plundered in the rear, but there was no guarantee the next "suitor" wouldn't be worse than expected, and there were several for which expectations were already horrifically low.

Nevertheless, she arrived to the auction site to again find suitors assembled, Veritas attending to them and shutting down arguments between them while keeping a foot abreast of the cask of butter.

Jewel looked over the collection: Kelshey, Jamar, and Om were not present, as expected, and neither was the dragon, the troll, or the ogre.  That left the centaur, the merman, the... slime, and, to Jewel's great relief, Merrybelle the Succubus.

Unfortunately, while she lit up when she saw Jewel, she refrained from bidding, leaving the bidding between the two remaining beastmen - and a slime that Jewel was absolutely certain was asleep.  Did slimes sleep?

In terms of who Jewel preferred - the answer was obvious.  The merman was terrifying in his own right, by temperament and by the massive spear (literally) that he haule with him, but Jewel knew exactly what awaited her with Ortar, and that was the kind of penis-hole mismatch that bards sung songs about.  Even if Jewel had been female, a horse was a horse, of course of course.  And she wasn't - all things considered, Jewel was still very much male, and that meant taking the centaur anally, and that was unthinkable.

And then, the merman, looking at least a little murderous, turned away and stomped off, leaving Ortar the unambiguous winner of the auction.

Jewel hadn't been the same since Jamar.  Not in any deep sense, although perhaps in some ways seeing the beastmen up close had given Jewel a bit of an education - though that applied to the elves and the enchanted forest as well - but definitely being with Jamar had altered Jewel in a intimate, if subtle way.  Mostly because of that damned knot.

But, seeing Ortar win the bid, suddenly, she felt it return to its old tightness very quickly.   It made an audible squeaking noise.

"You're going to need this," Veritas said, in the slimy way that only he could, as he wrapped his knuckles against the side of the barrel.

Jewel had never looked at a cask of butter so unfavourably.  Sure, it was her savior, but if it weren't there, it wouldn't be -possible- to... do the thing that it would facilitate.  She'd seen Ortar's anatomy.  She knew he was half-man, half-horse, all horse.  And, from what she'd briefly seen, he was hung like a horse by horse standards.  This was a mating that was not, at all, what their goddess had intended.

"Ortar is winning!" he yelled, sounding far too excited for the attempted murder he wanted to commit with his dick.  "Ortar wins broodmare!"

Jewel didn't like the sound of that.  She didn't consider Ortar to be a genius, but she hadn't considered that he might not realize that he couldn't put ponies in her.  That was a fundamental stupidity she wasn't prepared for.  Although, that might mean that he'd back down when he realized that Jewel wasn't about to be mommy to horsemen any time soon.

"Come, two-legged one!  The night is young!  We ride!" he said, and Jewel wordlessly walked to his side.  Without a saddle or stirrups, she had no idea how she was going to get on top of him, much less ride him.

Veritas had thought of this, apparently.  He called for a servant to bring him something, and when they returned, it was with a saddle attached to what looked like a harness - Jewel recognized that it was probably for the cask.

Ortar reared up when he saw it.  "Ortar not horse!  Ortar not wanting this!"

Veritas remained calm, despite the massive centaur's obvious fury.   "Yes, but, she is not used to riding bareback," he said, and Jewel saw him stifle a snicker.  "She will be much more comfortable this way, and you will as well for transporting this cask.  Without it, there will be no 'breeding' taking place."

Ortar considered it, looking from the cask, to the saddle, to Jewel, and then back to the saddle.  "Ortar not like it," he said, but did not move... acting much like an obedient horse.   Veritas nodded to the servant, and he fastened the saddle to Ortar, not without difficulty - he seemed afraid of the centaur warlord, which, given the title "warlord", was perhaps appropriate.

Hauling the cask up into the harness proved a two man job, and Jewel took some satisfaction in watching Veritas struggling with it, cursing when some poor footing slid him under, covering his otherwise immaculate clothing in dirt.  He stood, helped the servant fasten it into place, and then called for the back gate that they'd been using to be opened, making sure to give Jewel a knowing look as he did.

When all was said and done, Jewel noticed that the saddle still had no stirrups, but before she could even open her mouth to ask how she was getting on top, Ortar reached down and hoisted her up, depositing her unceremoniously into the saddle.  Then, before she could comment about this development, he took off, quickly hastening to a breakneck pace, through the gate, and into the city outskirts.

He didn't have quite as explosive and powerful stride as Jamar, but nevertheless, he was faster - much faster than any horse (or stag) that Jewel had ever been on, and she had lean forward in the saddle to keep herself stable.  Again, she found herself on the back of a beastman, riding through the cool night air, only the destination this time was not the cliffs by the ocean, but the grasslands, and what awaited her there... well, that was similar, but the difference was something she didn't want to think about.  Although the dreamstone didn't help with that.

She awoke to the warmth of the sun on her face, and the smell of grass.   Somehow, during the ride, she'd fallen asleep, and now was laying on her back in the grass.  She sat up, and her view was barely above it, looking out at an endless field, shimmering yellow in the breeze and the sun.  It was such a placcid scene that she relaxed momentarily... only to tense up at the sound of hoofbeats.

In a matter of moments, despite there being no one in sight just before, she was surrounded by centaurs, each more brutish and intimidating than the last.  Jewel was nervous for a number of reasons - centaurs were known for their brutality, and in particular for making meat out of humans who blundered into their territory, or were in the bad fortune of living in areas that a centaur clan claimed as their territory.   Putting that aside, as the centaurs that surrounded her didn't seem ready for violence, Jewel know found herself absolutely surrounded by centaurs, all male, none of them in a state of obvious non-arousal, some quite the opposite.    There were no less than ten of them - Jewel hadn't mentally prepared herself for the possibility of Ortar stuffing it up her butt yet; if they planned on making her get on her knees and lining up behind her, she was going to swallow her own tongue.

Fortunately, one grunted and pointed in a direction, and as Jewel shielded her eyes from the sun, she saw that there was a small structure without walls a small hike away.  Juding by how fast Ortar could move, she judged that it might take him less than a shanty to get there, but for her, a short bard's tale.

Although some of the centaur were visibly... at attention, none menaced her as she made her way to the structure, and when she got within a rock's throw of it, the largest of them called something out in a langauge Jewel didn't recognize, and they all reared up and turned around, galloping off from whence they came.   Jewel then heard a familiar voice.

"Brooadmare of Ortar!  How was sleep?"

Jewel's good mood evaporated as soon as she saw that, like some of his lieutenants, Ortar was more than happy to see her.  "I slept on the ground," Jewel said, seeing that the wall-less structure resembled a gazebo, and had a few furnishings, but nothing resembling a bed.  Ortar waved her into it, surprisingly genial, and Jewel was happy to get out of the sun - it certainly took the chill out of the air, but she'd been lying in it for a few hours, likely.  The floor of the structure was wood, even though there wasn't a tree around for miles, it looked.  Ortar's hoofs clopped against the wood loudly.  As far as opulent royal palaces went, it was on a lower level than even Jamar's humble man-wolf-cave.

"So did Ortar.  Is good ground.  Good," he said, missing the point majestically.  "Food?"

Jewel blinked, not realizing she'd been asked a question.  "Oh, yes, I'm hungry."

Ortar called out a word, and again, almost instantaneously, other centaur appeared, some carrying baskets with fruit, tubers, and... hay.  Oddly, there was no meat.

Each one laid their basket at Ortar's feet, and then left without being dismissed.  When the last had finished (carrying a large bowl with water in it), there were seven baskets and two bowls of water, far more food and drink than Jewel would possibly stomach.

Jewel hesitated to kneel down to eat any of it, even after Ortar himself knelt and started to grab fistfulls of food.  But she was hungry, so it didn't take long for her to give up on being invited.

"Can I have some?"

Ortar looked up, his mouth stuffed full, and chunks of chewed fruit tumbled out of his mouth as he looked, surprised, at Jewel.  "Eat, eat!" he demanded, pointing to the basket full of fruit nearest to Jewel.

Jewel carefully sat down on the floor, then helped herself to some bread and a squishy melon.

"Ortar clan is all clan.  All Ortar see is being his," he said, and Jewel was well aware that Ortar could currently see her.  "You are guest; Ortar is having nothing you are not having."

Jewel knew that was true in a few ways that Ortar didn't intend.  Then again, Jewel didn't have a horse cock.  Jewel nodded at the hospitality, and then started to eat in silence.  Eventually, she'd gorged herself, but Ortar continued to eat, so she just waited.  Eventually, she broke the silence.

"So, what are you planning to do with me?" she said, facing the issue head-on.  She clutched the dreamstone to her chest, and tried to ignore the vision that it gave her.  She watched Ortar thinking - a difficult task, it seemed - and then he spit out a pit.

"First, Ortar feed.  Then, we ride from clan of Hegtar to clan of Raktar - all of Ortar land.  And then, we play game, and if Ortar win, Ortar mate."

Jewel had feared this conversation. "You understand I'm a boy, right?"

"Ortar understand.  Ortar wanting to breed anyway.  What is being between Ortar's hindlegs does not care," he said, and that was that.  It took Ortar a while to finish, but he finished all the remaining food they'd been brought, and then stood, stomped around a bit, and gestured for Jewel to come to him, at which point he hoisted her up and deposited her on his back again - and then, just as suddenly, took off in a run.

They rode under the noon sun for maybe an hour before Ortar looked back at Jewel, and then pointed to the distance, across a massive lake.  "That is clan of Hegtar, lake warriors," he said, and Jewel could see at the extreme end of her vision a few figures - likely centaurs.  The visit to the clan of Hegtar was shortlived, as Ortar made a turn, almost an about-face, and then took off in that direction.

It was a few hours of riding later, and Jewel's rear was thoroughly sore by then, that Ortar stopped at the edge of a cliff that Jewel hadn't seen until he'd done so, and she nearly jumped off of him in surprise when she did.  "Clan of Raktar.   Forest warriors."

Though she'd heard Ortar had dominion over the grasslands, from the cliff, she could see a wide tract of forested land that Ortar at least seemed to think he had claim to.  It was a massive area, although sparsely populated, and she doubted that the centaurs were the only ones using the land.  Still, given the stretch of land she'd been shown, Ortar's claimed domain was massive - perhaps ten or fifteen times the size of Ironia's capital city.

"Now, to the sun hills, where we will play our game," he said, turning about, though Jewel looked over her shoulder to admire the view.

While they rode to the sun hills, Ortar laid out the rules of his "game".

"Game is simple.  You run, Ortar chase.  If you are escaping Ortar, Ortar will not be telling anyone.  Ortar will not making you his mare... although, Ortar is having many mares," he quickly added, although it struck Jewel as patently untrue.  Jewel hadn't seen a single female centaur yet.  "If Ortar catch you, we mate, back in Ortar palace."

Jewel was distracted by the sweeping hills before her - the name was apt, as they were filled with sun-yellow grass, lit intermittently by the nearly-setting sun as the winds blew across them.  Ortar let Jewel dismount him, and she prepared to run as fast as her legs could take her.

"Ortar give you a ten second lead, and then Ortar is giving chase.  And then, Ortar will catch you, and Ortar will breed you," he said, matter-of-factly.  When Jewel didn't begin to run, he gave her a light kick on the rear with his foreleg.  "Run, mare, run!"

Jewel didn't need to be told twice.  She took off in a sprint - but then, for all her agility, Jewel was never the fastest runner.

Even if she could outrun him for a second, and she couldn't, there was nowhere to escape to.   Just endless fields of hills and grass.   She ran as fast as she could, anyway, and then faster than that when she heard the hoof-beats, muffled by grass, begin.

Her footfalls suddenly stopped touching ground, and she realized she'd been hoisted up by her flimsy top, and she began to kick to try and escape his grasp.  "Haha!  Caught you!" he cried out in triumph.  "What a thrill!  Again, again!" he said, and then dropped Jewel to the dirt, where she immediately scrambled and started to flee.  She didn't know why he'd offered her a second chance, but she wasn't about to squander it.  Only... with much less of a head-start this time, he quickly caught her again.  And, just like that, released her again.

The third time, though, as she climbed a hill, scrambling up a few rocks that she knew Ortar couldn't climb, she saw something in the distance, atop another hill– her salvation.  She wasn't sure if she could make it, but she had to try, or the jewel's protection or no, Ortar's visible erection was going to destroy her insides.  A dog had been bad enough – a horse was too much, whether it had a man's upper half or not.  She didn't want ‘buttfucked to death by horse' on her tombstone, but she didn't want ‘fucked in the ass by a horsecock and survived' on her résumé either.  Getting mounted by Ortar would, in some ways, be a fate worse than death.  She wasn't a mare, she was a human being, with thoughts, and feelings, and a small asshole. If the gods had been on point, maybe they wouldn't have been sexually compatible at all... but the way things seemed, it was likely butter would solve any of those ‘problems'.

As she ran the dreamstone beat against her chest, and each time, she had a sudden flash - no vision, just a sensation that nearly made her lose her footing.  Finally, though, she reached the tree, and dug her nails into the bark as she scrambled up it.  Ortar yelled out - not quite a cry of rage, more one of frustration with a tinge of an accusation of foul play.

"Ohh!   Mares can not climb trees!  Come down!"

"I'm not a mare!" Jewel called down, securing herself on a branch well out of his reach.   "And I'm not coming down!   Not for a day and night!"

"This is... cheating!  You are a cheat!  Ortar will not stand for this!" he said, his hoof beating the ground.

Suddenly emboldened, Jewel shifted on the tree - so that instead, Ortar was staring up at her big, round backside.  "Too bad!" she said, taunting him.  She laughed - she'd escaped!   And then, she heard him call out as he had before, and she felt satisfied... until the whole tree shook.  She grabbed hold of the branch, so as to not fall, but then the tree shook once more, and her grip slipped, and she fell.

The dreamstone flashed a vision as she fell, one involving butter, whinnying, and a block of ice.  When she came to, she found herself not on the ground, but in Ortar's arms, and her rear hurt.

"Our cats sometimes climb this tree.  I know how to get them out of it," he said, and she felt his powerful legs kick behind him.  "I have caught you three times.  The game is over."

She sighed.  Mooning Ortar had proven a mistake.   Showing off her big bottom led to it hurting... and then all the color faded from her face as she realized how true that was.
They returned to Ortar's "palace" by nightfall.  Jewel dismounted Ortar, although she knew it wouldn't be long before they reversed who was mounting who.  The cask of butter that they'd brought with them had been wrenched open and strung up horizontally, so that much of it had poured onto the ground.

"Are you ready to be bred?" he asked her, and she shook her head.

"You know, as a human, I could offer you... other things," Jewel said, and though she briefly considered offering him one up the hole beneath his tail, she didn't think he'd go for it.

He didn't say anything, or move.  Jewel reached underneath, and grabbed hold of it, and began to stroke it.  Something about the experience made her feel... like she was performing animal husbandry.

Before her... ‘existence' as Jewel, she'd never seen a horse cock up close before... or any cock aside from her own, really.  She ran her fingers along it... it pulsed with so much intensity... looking at the thickness at the tip, Jewel realized she'd have to unhinge her jaw to get it in her mouth... so much for that idea.  She tried to satisfy him with her hand, but he quickly grew bored, and demanded that she get on her hands and knees.

Jewel's clothing had apparently been selected by Veritas on the basis of ease of access, so rather than disrobing, she unfastened the flap that covered her rear.  Though she was horrified by what she was being asked to do, this wasn't her first time at the rodeo, at this point, and she knew acquiescing was going to make it easier than not.  That being said, it was her first time even considering taking something of that size and shape where the sun most definitely doesn't shine, so while she confidently hoisted her ass in the air, on the inside, she was anything but calm.

Ortar kneeled behind her, grabbed both of her cheeks, and stared straight into her rear.  Jewel wasn't used to this level of 'inspection.'  There was almost something... domesticated about it... that, is, until Ortar barked a command for her to "wink”.  Jewel didn't know what that meant, but she could guess... she pushed out, feeling her anus pucker slightly, and Ortar grunted his approval.  He let go of her, and she saw him prance off... to the cask.  She looked away as he defiled it, and then returned, looking quite greased up and ready to go, with hands full of the stuff as well, which soon found their way to Jewel's backside.

She felt Ortar's flared tip slam against her rear entrance once, engulfing it, making her face turn pale.  It was as thick as a fist, she realized... and the thickness wasn't what scared her, although it didn't help.  It was one thing to have a sore, stretched ass... it was another entire to have... well, to get fucked in the ass by a horse.  Jewel couldn't decide if it was better or worse that he was sentient... but either way, she was taking a horse-cock anally, and that wasn't something people normally do.

Even a butter-coated horse cock was still a horse-cock.  Jewel knew that if he gained purchase, she'd long for the days she spent after Jamar gave her a thorough butt plundering, worrying that her little boyhole would never return to its maiden tightness.  She still had hope that, maybe after a month, the lingering effect of Jamar's overzealous interspecies anal fuck would disappear entirely, and her body wouldn't remember that one time she sat on a dog's knot and spun while moaning like the mayor's daughter.

She had no such hope that, if she added "butt-blasted by centaur" to her resume, her hole would ever return to normal.  She'd heard the myths about the stablehand who rubbed a mare's juices on their rear and was forevermore incontinent.   If there was a grain of truth to that story, it's that if a horse's cock enters a human butthole, neither of them are again the same, particularly the butthole.

Philosophy aside, Jewel was in a predicament that required action, as only her quick wits could escape her from a fate that involved, at the very least, walking funny for days.  Her buttered hole and Ortar's buttered, flared cockhead were kissing, but it was only a matter of time before their schoolyard antics led to some... deeper intimacy.

"Hey, Ortar--" she started, in an attempt to distract the centaur from his attempts at anal congregation, before she felt all of the wind leave her lungs.  Ortar had reared his hip back and then lunged it forward, slamming the behemoth into Jewel's upturned backdoor.  He hadn't made purchase, but he had succeeded in making Jewel's diaphragm seize up, rendering her unable to say anything.


The flared tip didn't seem to understand that a peg can't fit into a hole smaller than it, so they spent a while with just his cock spewing precum onto her unyielding starfish, the rest of his head pressing into it like some kind of obscene kiss.  Jewel was thankful for the extra lubrication, but was less thankful for the horse dick... which she knew would inevitably win that battle.  Her asshole's time was numbered, and if there was a more embarrassing, terrifying countdown, Jewel hadn't taken part in it.


"Oh..." was all she got out of his name before, again, she lost her air, but this time, the stalemate had broken.  From the outside, Ortar's hunk of meat was stuck between Jewel's fat cheeks, but Jewel could feel from the intense pressure that her entire rectum was full, and her colon was already in the process of being straightened out.

If she thought she had the wind knocked out of her before, that had been nothing compared to the breathlessness she now experienced.  She noiselessly made an "ooh" face, comically underselling how she felt in her shock.

Finally, her reflexes kicked in, her mouth opened wide in a silent scream, and her hand found its way back to the shaft sticking halfway out from between her cheeks and grabbed hold of it tightly, trying desperately to slow or halt its entry further.

It twitched, and nearly lifted Jewel off of the ground.  Each pulse sent a shockwave through her body until it came out of her mouth as an unintelligible "buh".  If she wasn't quite a mare in physiology, she'd at least been rendered as dumb as one.

It pushed her internal organs out of the way as it sunk deeper in.  It lurched so far into her intestines that Jewel was certain she was dreaming.  She could feel it poking her belly out, stretching her abdomen outward, but her tight ring gobbled up more and more of the slick shaft with no end in sight.  It gripped tightly, so that when he did pull out a ways suddenly, as his thrusts were erratic, her butt pulled with it, but then he lurched forward again and it reached even more depraved depths.  Jewel's only hope at this point was that, when his belly finally touched against her butt, his cock didn't force its way up out of her mouth.  Rationally, she knew that was impossible, but there was something about a foot and a half of horse dick straightening out your colon that made the impossible seem possible.  She'd rather have admitted to sleeping with Kelshey a hundred times than admit having been sodomized by a horse... and if anyone found out that she'd been made into Ortar's mare, the embarrassment would make her explode... if Ortar's shithole-invading horsemeat didn't make her explode first.

The fact that it was her shithole made it so much worse - it hadn't really bothered her as much with Kelshey or Jamar, but here, the -pointlessness- of the act was on full display, as even if centaurs and humans could interbreed, Ortar was threatening to pump his regal pony goo in a place that wasn't likely to bear many fruit, and Jewel would just be stuck dumping it out, likely still warm, at her convenience.  Jewel's butthole wasn't meant for breeding, and yet, it was being bred.

And she couldn't even think of him as a centaur.  His entire human half was out of view, and he wasn't saying anything.  She struggled to put his face in her mind's eye, because otherwise, this was a simple act of bestiality.  Jewel was being anally defiled by a horse, not a horseman, but a horse.  And if Jewel had to keep Ortar's mug in mind while his cock reamed open her sphincter and gave her straightened-out intestines a thorough massage, just to put the "man" in "horseman", it was worth it.

She had endured being under Kelshey as he plugged her soft butt from behind, an act that, now that Jewel was thinking about it, made it easier to think of herself with female pronouns.  She had to some degree been beneath Jamar... but she was well and truly underneath Ortar.   She was holding onto his forelegs and having her fat ass violated by his horsecock, and the dreamstone was doing an excellent job showing her doing that again, and again, and again.  Like it was whispering to her "this is what you're meant for."  Jewel didn't fancy herself an elven boytoy, or a wolfman's bitchboy, but she especially didn't fancy herself horse's cumdump, or her asshole a mare-pussy substitute for horsecock.

But, if the shoe fit...

The one "saving grace,” if it could be called that, was that he couldn't thrust all the way in and out at once... but his erratic, frenzied shitter-stuffing was hardly an improvement.  It lurched in and out of her bowels, and even at its shallowest it was still thicker and deeper than most human cocks would be.  Her intestinal muscles didn't know what to do with it, and so she cramped, painfully, and the friction of the massive thing sliding in and out was rubbing each individual ring raw, and the thickness of it was stretching each individual ring beyond recognition.  Humans were not made for receiving anal sex from horses, she thought, and each syllable of that thought was punched into her entrails.  The sounds she was making, however, were distinctly inhuman, guttural grunts and whines and groans and squeaks, incoherent gibberish that all meant the same thing - this horse cock doesn't fit in my ass.  Humiliation aside - and that was a lot to put aside, her insides just couldn't accomodate it, and they were being made to in a way that made her not envy gay horses.  When Ortar bottomed out, she thought she would die, the wind knocked out of her, and when he nearly slipped free, she begged for the momentary reprieve, but it never came, as the shaft of the horsecock slipped inside again, buried in her tight, aching hole, which it was stretching nearly as wide during the entire ordeal as Jamar's knot had at its thickest - Jewel felt like she was being fisted by a cock.  Of course, just an inch below where her hole was entertaining an equine guest, her own boypart was reacting in its own, misguided way.
Unfortunately, the erratic thrusting made it hard for Jewel to predict the thrusts, and the sudden prostate-punching and hole-stretching and tunnel-spelunking left her in a state of arousal that she wouldn't admit to under penalty of death.  She was leaking so much precum into the dirt that her knees were starting to sink into the mud that contained all of her misguided sperm.  She knew it was very likely she was going to cum hands-free, but she fought it off as best she could.  Which... wasn't enough.  Jewel felt her balls tense up as they prepared to make someone else a mommy, not knowing the kind of sex or the configuration of the participants.  She grit her teeth and tried to think of anything that would distract her, anything at all, but the reality was she was being buttfucked, and nothing was going to be able to distract her from that long enough to keep her boybits from joining on the fun.  Groaning in defeat, she closed her eyes, bit her lip, and gave the ground a facial.

She let Ortar's face fall from her mind as she ejaculated, spraying all of her horse-induced semen into the dirt and moaning like a bitch (mare?) in heat.  The intensity of the anal stimulation made it impossible to just focus on her orgasm, and her entire body wracked with the sensation.   If Ortar noticed a difference in tightness, he didn't react to it, instead continuing to fuck the shit out of her ass just as he had been, which was such that one moment, she had her rectum full of horse dick, then the next moment, it was nearly empty, and then the next, her rectum and colon were both bursting with it, and the pressure on her diaphragm made it impossible to breathe.  Her nails dug into the dirt as she fired more globs into it, trickling her semen into the mud with no ability whatsoever to stop herself.  It went on and on, and Jewel suddenly found that her finger was in her mouth, covered in dirt, and that her hand had gone from Ortar's shaft to her own round, squishy cheek, which she was pulling aside so that the pace of the horsedick pumping into her ass was that much faster, and could give her that much more stimulation from the backside, resulting in a white rain that she was 100% certain must have been the dreamstone's fault.  By the time it ceased, she was already half-limp.

Then, she collapsed into the mud.   A smile crept onto her face.  Anal oblivion be damned, she just had, in her admittedly limited experience, the best anally-induced orgasm of her life.  She knew she'd be embarassed, mortified in a moment when the euphoria wore off, but for now, her balls were empty, and that was... pretty nice.  She had to hand it to Ortar - skill or not, he'd managed to get her off through brute force.

She numbly felt the shaft erratically jump inside of her, and let out a slightly pained groan.  She hoped Ortar was soon to finish... although she wasn't looking forward to what him "finishing" meant.  She held out hope that he might accidentally withdraw... but that hope was dashed a moment later, when she heard Ortar roar, and felt a fire erupt in her belly, and in surprise, grabbed onto Ortar's forelegs.

She thought she was about to vomit up horsecum.  If Jewel had been overwhelmed by Jamar's output, Ortar's ejaculation was so forceful it stung.  She felt it spray out and fill her gut, which made her sprinkle the floor in an utterly bewildering display of sympathetic creaming, and then felt more of it glug out into her already ballooning belly, a veritable deluge of horsecum that would have made any mare pregnant if she saw it.  Jewel felt absolutely sick, feeling it glug out into her bloated intestines more and more, and the way that Ortar was jerking in and out meant that every inch of her fun tunnel was being basted... and deep inside, it was pooling into a lake that would have made her nauseous even if it wasn't mostly horse sperm... it squirted out around his cock as he continued to pump it into her, and Jewel gripped tightly onto his forelegs as her belly visible sagged and bloated beneath her... her "reward” for a breeding well done.  Her stomach gurgled in protest, but there was little she could do about it; even with all the pressure in her gut, her butt was still almost totally plugged by the long shaft of a horse cock.  She was being bred, thoroughly, and felt equally disgusted, horrified, and <3 about it.  It was a stomachache she would not soon forget.  Ortar was still ejaculating when he pulled it out, and it was immediately joined by a quart of horsecum that visibly deflated Jewel's belly, although it was still quite round, sore, and full.  Jewel swallowed her shame and pushed it out, it emptying in a river as Jewel lay her head down in the warm mud, and Ortar dismounted.

Ortar used his human hands to inspect the fruit of his labor, spreading her cheeks apart, and Jewel lay there, defeated.  She had no idea why he was even bothering - she could feel that her hole was, at least temporarily, large enough to stick a fist in without touching anything.

"Wink!" he demanded, and Jewel had no idea what he meant, but tried to close her hole anyway... somehow, this caused her to spasm, and a quart of horse-goo shot out of her and into his face, which caused him to rear back and curse.  "Gah!  Ortar was not meaning... ugh.  Mare did good."

Jewel lay face-down, ass-up in the very mud she had made, and her hole felt absolutely cavernous.  She was pretty sure anyone viewing her from behind could see out of her mouth.  She had no interest in standing or moving at all.

She knew Ortar had a human...like intelligence but it really felt like she'd been fucked by an animal - there was no real difference.  She got fucked by a horse... and she knew now that was entirely possible.

She had been wrong that it might be 'as bad' as Jamar.  Even ignoring that Jamar's thickness was temporary and barely thicker, the state of her goophole left little doubt that she hadn't just been fucked by a horsecock - she'd been fucked in the ass by a horse.  She might tell someone what had transpired between her and Kelshey, and, if under duress, confess to being Jamar's anally-receptive bitch...boy... but this was a humiliation that no other soul could ever know about.  With her insides bloated and soggy and sore, and her ass open and winking in the air, she felt exactly like a bred barnyard animal, and at least they had the dignity of not having all of that animal semen in the hole that they shit from.  Well, except chickens.  Technically.

But she'd done it.  She'd taken it in the ass from a horse.  And yeah, that had made her spew, but that didn't change that she'd pulled it off.  And, while she would never seek out the experience on her own, she wasn't exactly stressing about "her" manhood or "her" dignity when "she" hit her climax.    It was a strange thing to feel pride in, but Jewel couldn't help it - how many could say they'd been fucked by a centaur warlord and made it through with a few bumps and scrapes?  Sure, she wouldn't shit right for days, her hole was wide enough to stick a sovereign in with ease (the coin, not the ruler), she had a stomachache that was equal parts semen-gut and fucked-raw intestines, but she'd done it.  She'd taken on one of her... biggest suitors.  And with the thought of how big an Ogre or Troll's cock must be stuck in her mind, she passed out.