News about Rene and what Rasputin said of her hit Hank hard. He was in love with Rene; enough for him to inform her verbally, talking, telling of who he was, and had become a stallion pony animal by desire. As how she took the news of his reality came as a shock; made worse according to Rasputin invoking into her sleep, erotic dreams of her and Hank mating.
Hank being Henry the Fjord pony stallion was in love with his sex life, Cindy and him, but of Rene, and her mode of passion; Hank hoped to add her into his fandango fantasy.
Day thirteen began as had the previous twelve days, as an obviously disgruntled father of Rene tended to doing her chores. However, neither Cindy nor Hank after being fed were released from the barn to graze and romp in the pasture. Hank being pony Henry had not along while to wonder, as midmorning a white Ford heavy-duty pickup truck with livestock trailer rolled to a stop out front of the barn. Hank listened to men talking for several minutes; until Rene,’s father entered the barn and clipped a reign to the head halter on Cindy, and he led her out the barn front door.
The drumming sounds of hoofs entering the livestock trailer was upsetting, but made all the worse when a man came to take Hank. Equine instincts reigned upon the mentality of Hank, as trusting of he who fed and had cared for him, though little of his being led from the barn, or until he saw the livestock trailer.
“Branson Livestock Auction,” was what Hank saw, as read, and realized just what Rene’s father had decided to do for his ailing daughter.
“You brought more than enough dissention into my home life and family; if you can talk, then talk all you want to save your hide,” said one angry man and father.
Anxious minutes happened when one man pulled on his reign while an angered father took a firm hold and kinked Hank’s tail to forcing him inside the trailer. His reign tied to a steel ring, Hank felt so scared, all he could muster was but to whinny; he wanting to speak to Rene. His speech returned as a whisper when the truck driver handed an angry father figure a Bank-check as payment for a purchase.
“Eleven hundred dollars, is more than I expected, and tell George, your boss as of my thanks!”
When the truck motor started and the rig began to move, Cindy began using her rump end at rubbing that on her stallion, she looking for some form of comfort. Hank felt annoyed by Cindy, and he with a strong hind leg did give her a harsh kick.
Cindy neighed from Hank’s kick and the pain she felt, causing her to shy away, as standing, becoming wild eyed nervous. Hank planned to speak his mind to the truck driver, as when he would stop at the next pickup of more livestock. Ten’s of miles passed under the trailer wheels before the driver turned off the highway, as entered the driveway to the Allentown Slaughter and Meat Company. The rank scent from nervous animals waiting their turn permeated the air. A horrid hint of blood scented the warm, afternoon breeze, and added to the instinct driven anxiety of all standing in pens, corrals, or chutes leading toward the rear door to the drab building.
When untied, Hank bolted out the livestock trailer, and trotted along a chute to enter into a corral near to full of other horses, mares, geldings, but one a stallion, and it being Hank. Nervous mares smelled of Hank and he just as upset, did sniff at and tongue slurping give mares an arousing licking.
Mares filled with fear sought Hank to help them quell their urge to escape by mounting and servicing, as with stallion cock thrusting, taking the worries away. A few of the very needy mares were too tall for Hank to reach and enter. Many a medium size mare welcomed Hank by their urinating while he was licking, and soaked his muzzle with mare scent; driving Hank sexually insane with lust.
When finally, that Hank had the thought of the sun setting into the western horizon, he ceased his breeding. He took a moment to think and realize his life was in danger. A snort to clear his sinus of mare scent did nothing to dim the lusty pangs he felt from his cock hanging so damn erect, he could breed all night and not feel tired.
“RASPUTIN come and attend my wish,” yelled Hank, while all who stood near, had not the intellect to understanding of human lingo.
“Rasputin come to me,” Hank said again as with a calmer note of reverent pleading.
“What Hank,” said Rasputin, his tone that of an annoyed devil, as disrespectful for being bothered?
“What is happening, why am I here, and Rene,” Hank asked, as his tone was of distinct worry?
“What is happening, you were sold, being a pony animal sent to slaughter; unless you talk your way to a new or different life path. As about Rene, her father saw his daughter becoming erotically enticed for wanting a pony cock thrust inside her at any cost.
My Master’s plan for you to talking was to allure Miss Rene, the granddaughter to a family heritage of religious men. Her brother, uncles, and grandfather were all ministers of the Zion/Christian faith. He, my Master had hopes of you being a changeling stallion, to taunt her faith and break a link in their family chain of their God-fearing love.
Rene broke from her lust driven desire to let you disgrace her and deflower, while I would make of her an Anthro-pony mare, and a whore.
However, she repented, and your pleasing of my Master became as his discredit and humiliation before his peers and the grand Demon. You failed to allure as planned; and even if your original motive was not the same as devil-demon desires, you must pay a price. Sold and titled now for slaughter, your future lies as a mixed blending stuffed into a tin can of dog food.
Cindy, dear mare as so noted of being barren, she sold to a family farm for a daughter to ride, learn responsibility, and enjoy her owning a pet.
The Tome graces are for you a thrill of your past life. As a hearty stallion and active stud pony, and without a pure pedigree, your only hope is of accepting, as purchased by Circe’s Traveling Carnival and Sideshow. As there and about her devious ways, your’ sexual talents, those big balls and stout cock, Circe would put on display, and occasionally offer her lovely self for you to fornicate. Sex is your’ only saving hope to living a life path of seven hundred years as a young stallion. Good luck Hank, you are on your’ bodily worth as a recognizance.