Slowly. methodically the embodiment of a black Shire stallion begins to envelope Palador. He stands still uprightly, barely able to balance as his body conforms to the spellbinding designs the Queen would rather have him become.
Anguished moans of feeling instinct welling in his mind, urging of him to do what would a stallion standing near a mare in her time of estrus, he knowing what the Queen wants of him to do.
"Do it, mount her Palador, she is not your sister, she is a mare, a female in need, she sweats, has her head hung low, is submissive, she wants it as bad as you know you want her!" The Queen continues to spur her new stallion, she standing close is then about nose to cocks head with this the prize stallion, stud horse.
Tail swishing in eager erotic thoughts of coming passion, he, Palador giving in, his cock swaying, he stares at the winking vaginal lips, and he changes his poise, ready then to mounting, thrust, and plunge away the humanity of his dear sister as well his own self.
A screaming last whinny and what should not be, is for brother and sister...