Rutting at the Farmer's View
An experienced donkey comes to visit the Farmer's View, and enjoys a younger stallion.
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Rutting at the Farmer's View
For SaltirePhoenix
By Draconicon
Being a connoisseur of red-light districts and their pleasures, Anthony was not the usual tourist that wandered through the wide streets of Maiyone's pleasurable neighborhoods. The donkey walked with purpose and power through the streets of the foreign city, smiling at some of the establishments that caught his eye but merely noting them down for now. After all, the donkey had a particular destination in mind, and he didn't want to deviate from it just yet.
As he walked the streets of what he'd been told was Red-Light North, he was aware of the slow pulses of red light from the lamps and what they did to him. Each little shimmer of that crimson light made his balls throb, his cock twitch, and sent a little wash of pleasurable heat through his system. It was some sort of aphrodisiac, and he chuckled as he saw the effects that it had on some of the locals. Some didn't even make it to a place of business before they just grabbed someone else of a similar mentality and dragged them into a nearby alley, rutting away.
But not Anthony. He knew what he wanted, and it was more than what he would get from some random horny local.
Eventually, passing by various museums, brothels, and other such establishments, he found it. The Farmer's View, named such by the glowing sign over the door and the stable-like entrance that he had heard about. Some customers loved it, some thought that it was a little much, and still others had been intimidated by it.
Or, rather, by those that waited in the greeting hall. He stepped through, smiling in mild amusement at the various mules and donkeys that lined the stable walls. They nodded at him as he walked in, one offering a hand to take his coat. Anthony declined, but tossed the man a five dollar bill anyway.
It was always good to see the 'lesser' equines, as some would term donkeys and mules, getting jobs. He came from a place where that was a little harder, and it was nice to see a brothel that was based on equine prestige didn't fall into that common trap.
He left the entry hall behind, entering the main room. The crawling waitresses and waiters, complete with the saddle-dishes of drinks on their backs, made him chuckle. Adjusting his tie, he walked through the mess, avoiding the pint-sized pony that came rushing up to meet him before sitting at the bar.
"Whiskey," he said.
The dappled mare chuckled as she nodded, turning her back on him. Some might have been tempted with her broad rump that was barely hidden beneath a farmer's skirt, but he had other thoughts tonight. He turned just as the pony rushed up, short, long-maned, and brown-furred in nothing but a speedo, one that threatened to slide up and around his dangling balls in the process. Anthony smiled.
"I'm guessing you're my host?"
"I was just trying to catch up with you, sir. We could have ordered for you."
"I prefer to order for myself."
"But -"
"Trust me, I know how this works."
"Whiskey, sir," the bartender said, sliding a shot glass into his hand.
"Thanks." He nodded at her before turning back to the pony. "Now, no offense, but I know what I want, and I can handle it. Now, take this -" He passed the pony a larger bill, tucking it into his hand. "And go and find someone else to host, hmm? Save both of us some time."
"...Heh. Thank you, sir."
Bobbing his head and leaving the donkey to his business, the pony darted back to the crowd at large. Anthony shook his head before spinning on the stool, facing the bartender properly. She was stocking the shelves and keeping an eye on him at the same time. Smart, he supposed; he had money and yet he hadn't paid her yet. He would have to remember to do that, and properly.
He swirled the whiskey in his glass, catching a few oaken, slightly sweet notes before taking a sip. Not bad, really. He let it settle on his tongue before slowly tilting it down his throat, the little burn that followed quite a familiar kiss.
"So. Any rooms of a more...interesting nature left?" he asked.
"I thought you knew how this worked, Mr..."
"Anthony."
"Well, Mr. Anthony, the host's really the one that should be answering your questions."
"Yes, but he was young."
"And?"
"And I don't want to explain what I want. Now, rooms for more interesting kinks?"
"There's a room for some BDSM at the back still open, if that's what you mean."
"Precisely. Thank you."
"You want me to sign you in?"
"Please. I trust a menu of available staff is waiting for me?"
"That's right. Anything else?"
"Just the bill, thank you."
Paying by card, he left her a twenty-percent tip before getting back to his feet. Unlike most of the various equines in the establishment, his shoes tapped the ground rather than his hooves as he made his way to the hall leading to the back of the building. He was already working his fingers through his tie in anticipation of the night ahead, his imagination putting together a picture that he could only hope reality would live up to.
A young man that knows what he wants, and is willing to be led around, he thought. Yes. That will be perfect for me.
He followed the hallway, passing by a series of closed and open doors. The open ones were either empty or thrown open to show off what one person wanted an audience to see. He would occasionally glance in them, but most of the time he just walked on, uninterested in a more amateur exhibition. He knew that he'd start to complain if he saw too many, imagining them as films that he could be directing rather than just idly watching.
Then, he reached the far end of the hallway, where his open door waited. He pulled it open to find a breeding post set up in the corner, as well as a couch, a bed with sturdy metal frames, shelf after shelf of toys, and a series of leather harnesses and more along the far wall. All in all, quite the standard dungeon, if well-organized and presented.
The smell of leather welcomed him into the room, and he sighed under his breath as he settled on the edge of the bed. A little pamphlet stuck out from beneath it, and he pulled it out and started scrolling through it.
"Ah, yes, the menu."
A menu of people, accurate down to the last digit. There were several dozen horses available for use, both stallions and mares and some that blurred that line and crossed over from one to the other. He flicked over to the stallion side, wanting a male under him for the night.
It didn't take long to narrow it down. Some were just flat unavailable for anything other than the vanilla, which was a pity. He would have thought that this place would have more 'anything goes' ponies, considering the nature of the establishment and its high ratings. Then again, he supposed that the high ratings might have come from the more vanilla customers, more willing to come here since they wouldn't feel pressured to participate further than the most base level.
Still, he found himself irritated that there were only three stallions on the list up to his standards. He tapped his finger against the pamphlet for a few seconds, finally deciding on the middle one, a black Irish draft horse. He was under 'anything goes', and that would do for him.
Anthony was about to get up when the door opened, the same brown pony from before poking his head in. The donkey arched an eyebrow.
"Didn't we just talk about this?"
"I heard that you needed a room."
"I have one."
"And you need someone to enjoy."
"I doubt you're volunteering."
"Employees only to the real stables, sir. Sorry."
"Hmm. Fine. Aiden, please."
"Ah, excellent choice. Anything you'd like him to know?"
"To be ready for the crop."
"Ahhhh. Yes, sir."
And with that, the pony dropped again. Anthony shook his head in mild amusement, looking down at the pamphlet and imagining the stallion it described. It referred to him as tall, and the digits bore that out at six-foot-eight, which was four inches taller than himself. It listed him as young, experimental, wanting to 'find himself' in the business. Anthony had seen that a number of times, and knew that it was more of an excuse for someone that wasn't entirely experienced or ready in a new role.
But that was fine. He liked 'teaching' someone how to do their job.
Anthony crossed one leg over the other as he looked down at the pamphlet again. He imagined that the stallion would be quite interested in getting a good paycheck, but when it came down to it, it would be whether he could deal with the twin surprises of an older client - and for all that he looked good for his age, Anthony would admit that he was not the first thing that most sex-workers expected in a client - and whether he could deal with the various tastes that the donkey had for his pleasures. If the young man could deal with the two different issues, then they would get along just fine. If not...well, there were two other possibilities.
He heard the footsteps - footsteps, not hoofsteps - coming, and he smiled slightly. It seemed that there were others like him in this place.
He had just managed to put the pamphlet back when the door opened, and the draft horse stepped inside. He was as tall as advertised, having to duck slightly to avoid banging his head on the top of the doorframe, and he was dressed in nothing but a bow-tie and a jockstrap. He looked quite well-muscled, but quite young, as well, the sort of stallion that one would find working the fields rather than working in an office.
Anthony nodded in approval as the young man shut the door, the stallion turning to him with an obviously trained response of putting his hands up and behind his head, thrusting his hips forward to show off his body that little bit more. The donkey shook his head.
"No. Come here."
"Heh, if you say so."
"Hmm? If I say so..."
"...Is there something -"
"You will call me sir. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Now, come here."
The draft horse did as he was told, rapidly crossing the room and standing with his hands behind his back, hips thrust forward for an inspection. It was easily done; that jock hid almost nothing from sight, though he had no intentions of taking it off anytime soon. He ran his hand over the front, feeling that it was good and dry, no sweat or slime coming through it, which was an improvement compared to some of the other brothels that he had seen in other cities. He nodded in approval, twirling his finger.
It took a second for Aiden to get what that meant, but he spun, which was better than some of those that questioned it or got defiant. Another half-mark in his favor, at least. Anthony stroked a finger down the stallion's spine, from his mane down to his tail, which flicked at that light pressure along the base of it, exposing a well-muscled rump. Very good, nice and large, but firm.
"You have some skills, according to your pamphlet."
"Heh, more than even you'll have seen, old guy."
"I've seen quite a bit."
"Well, I've learned even more."
"Show me with a dance, then. Start with that."
Aiden didn't need further instructions, something that Anthony put down to the training regimes of the Farmer's View. Almost instantly he threw himself in a rolling dance of his hips, bringing them around as if his ass cheeks were already swiveling around a foreign shaft. The sight of those rolling, muscular globes was lovely, and something that made him smile almost instantly.
Of course, it wasn't that different from anything that he had seen at other strip clubs, but there was something about the rumps of other equines that just surpassed those of most other species. They had a willingness and roundness to them that others couldn't quite match, and there was something about the sheer thickness and -
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
Yes, that was it. Anthony leaned back, his cock hardening slowly in his trousers as he watched those cheeks clap against each other as they rolled up and down, up and down, and side to side. There was a serious illusion of being ridden as the stallion backed up further and further, all but grinding his ass cheeks against the donkey's crotch. Each time that the cheeks pressed against the fabric of his pants, he was reminded that this was a full brothel rather than just a gentleman's club, and that meant that he could go as far as he wanted.
While his eyes wandered and his mind fantasized on the different things that he would do to this stallion, there was still an evaluation going on. Aiden clearly had the moves to keep his hips as erotic as possible, and knew how to keep maximum contact at the right moments to appeal to his audience. However, there was still that youthful confidence of showing off rather than doing as much as he could. Not quite as much contact as there should be, and more to the point, not enough use of the sac for visual teasing. It was all down to that hole and getting it as close to the tip of the bulge as possible, without finessing it the way that a more experienced slut might have done.
He'd give the younger stallion a passing grade, but one that clearly needed some improvement.
Sway, thrust, sway, thrust, grind. Such went the dance, until Anthony cleared his throat. Aiden stood up immediately, stopping what he was doing without complaint. He even smiled over his shoulder.
"Done already?"
"Hardly," Anthony said with a shake of his head. "Lean over the breeding post."
"Jock on or off?"
"Did I say to take it off?"
"No, sir."
"Then the answer's obvious, isn't it?"
"Heh, yes, sir."
There was a playfulness there, one that he didn't know if he approved of at first. After a moment's thought, he decided that he liked it, as long as it didn't get out of hand.
Aiden walked over to the post and leaned over it, keeping his head down and his ass up. The edge of his balls were a little more visible from this angle, the jockstrap clearly not suitable for someone of his endowment, and intentionally so, the donkey imagined. It made everything look that much bigger down there.
He ignored the offering, turning to the wall instead. He pulled down a few leather ties, sufficient to keep the stallion from pulling away from the post, and picked two harnesses, one that would hold the stallion's hips and one for himself. He tossed the latter on the bed for later, and held the other over his shoulder.
Then, he moved to the crops. There were quite a few of them, ranging from simple decorative straps of leather to something that was tipped with a lash that glittered with what might have been shards of glass. He avoided both, as he neither wanted to coddle his partner nor rip them to shreds. Stroking his fingers down the leather and wooden rods, he eventually found one that suited his needs, several feet long with a swish to it that promised a good bend without going floppy, and with enough leather at the tip in fringes that would leave welts with proper handling, but not scars. He flicked it through the air, smiled at the satisfying whistle that it made, and turned back to his partner.
"Now, to ensure that you retain the proper posture."
"I think I can manage that, sir."
"You have not been treated to such pleasure-pain as I know how to inflict."
"Heh, you sure about - ah!"
He'd pulled the harness tight after wrapping it around Aiden's hips, pulling the nearly-naked stallion in close to the breeding post. The edge of the jockstrap would function almost as a condom if the young man was able to force the tip of his cock into that hole, and it would at least catch the worst of the pre-cum mess. Not that he imagined that the boy would be getting off without permission, but it was always possible that his partners would have a little less self-control than ideal.
With that done, he pulled the crop back, tapping the edge of it against the stallion's bare cheeks. They were black-furred, just like most of the rest of him, with just a hint of pink where the pucker poked out past the cheeks. He smiled, tracing the circle there, and watched it tense as if it was afraid that it would be the first target of his wrath.
Of course, it wasn't. He traced lines out from it, across each cheek, before -
THWIP-SMACK!
The first hit was right under the left buttock, right where thigh and rump touched together. Aiden yelped, jumping forward, only to groan as the head of his bulge almost pushed into the breeding post.
SMACK!
SMACK!
Two more quick blows, following up after the first. One went to the same spot on the other leg before darting back to the stinging point of the first strike. Aiden gasped, huffing and hissing through clenched teeth as he lowered his head to the breeding post once more.
Anthony nodded, nursing his growing bulge with his free hand as he lightly tapped the tip of the crop against one cheek after the other, never hard enough to actually sting, but just enough to get the blood flowing, ensuring that the cheeks were getting good and sensitive, nice and warm before -
SMACK!
Dead center of the right rump cheek, and Aiden arched his back.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Three more, back and forth, keeping the cheeks jiggling, watching them clench, little red marks starting to show from the strike-lines of the little leather fringes at the edge of the riding crop. It didn't take long before the stallion was panting for breath, arching his back, biting his lips to keep his reactions from getting out of hand, and yet, his cheeks continued to quiver, shaking and clenching in tight as if they were trying to protect themselves from something that there was no protection from.
Each impact was loud enough to hear, each one preceded with the louder THWIP whistle-whoosh of the crop coming down and leaving that mark. There were red lines and red dots criss-crossing the stallion's rump by the time that Anthony began to tire, and he was hard as could be in short order.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, turning the crop so he could drag it up between the cheeks slightly, pulling it from balls to hole. "Sensitive?"
"Mmmph...very, sir."
"And your cock?"
"Nnngh...hard, sir."
"Are you capable of continuing?"
Yes, he knew the answer would be, whether the answer was true or not, or whether Aiden believed it or not. It was not the training that would drive him to say it, though, but rather pride. Pride that he could be as good as he believed he should be, pride in being something better than the 'old man' was used to.
And he was right.
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I will be fucking you now."
"Mmph...I look forward to it, sir."
Laying the riding crop against the wall, Anthony unzipped his pants, taking his time as he fished out his shaft. The whole thing had grown quite rigid during the course of disciplining the cocky stallion, and as it had the freedom to expand properly, it finally reached up and throbbed into his hand. He rubbed it from head to base, and then back again, smearing it with the drippings already coming freely from the end. The heady smell of rut was already thick in the air and getting thicker.
He approached his stallion from behind, not surprised that the jock had stretched from a throbbing erection down there. Aiden's balls were just barely visible from behind, dragged out from the jock and the same color as a streak of skin leading back to that pucker. He smiled, tapping the head of his cock against that clenching hole.
"The last time you were fucked was...when?" he asked.
"Nnngh...last night, sir."
"And you are lubed?"
"Mm-hmm. Yes, sir."
"Then I will not hold back."
It was easy to find the right spot to slide in. Aiden was lubed - though it was deeper inside than was standard for his paid-for partners - and as soon as Anthony pressed his cock to the right spot on the edge of the ring, he slid right in. The taller stallion groaned under him, huffing into the breeding post as the donkey pushed in deeper, deeper, and deeper still, right up to the point of being balls deep and feeling the draft horse shivering, hips twitching.
He planned to make sure that the donkey fucked the breeding tube during this. Despite the roughness of the jock, it would keep him good and hard for the last thing that he had in mind. The donkey rolled his hips back, feeling the sucking pressure of that pucker around his shaft before -
Squelch.
The second thrust was far harder than the first, slamming in as hard and fast as he could manage it. He slammed right into the pocket of lube that was just behind that hole, and it started oozing out over his cock and balls, making the third, fourth, and fifth thrusts that much faster, that much easier. Anthony leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the stallion and the breeding tube, and gave himself to the pleasure.
In, out, in, out, each thrust leaving him groaning in pleasure of his own and savoring the little grunts and huffs of need from just beneath him. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the stallion submitting himself, waiting for that moment when Aiden would lose control and -
POP! There it was. The stallion's little moans turned into something more akin to whimpers as his cock was swallowed by the breeding tube, both pleasurably sucked and uncomfortably ground against the inside of the jock.
Anthony showed no mercy. If anything, he picked up the pace, thrusting harder and faster to keep that cock buried inside the tube. The heated cheeks of that well-abused rump ground back against him, helping to greet his cock and slide it where it belonged, despite the donkey's clear intention of never pulling all the way out. The inner walls squeezed tight, pulling at him, milking him for everything that he had. If he had been a younger man, he had little doubt that he would have blown his load already.
As it was, he groaned and pulled back, taking his time to really rut that pucker, giving it the stretch that it clearly needed. In, out, in, out, each time feeling that wet rolling wave of lube and pre-cum rolling back against his cock, a reminder of the pleasure that they were both feeling, and the soft whimpers and moans that rose up from his little cum-catcher were just delicious.
They settled into a slow back and forth, one that was neither fast and breaking but neither gentle and soft. It was firm, more than anything else, a pace that demanded that the stallion either submit or be broken in for it, and Aiden submitted. Anthony could feel every soft clench around his cock as he thrust in, every little grunt, every little spasm of pleasure that meant that the stallion under him was getting closer and closer.
But it would never be enough. That jock, that breeding tube, and the slow pace that Anthony set for them meant that the pleasure would never rise high enough for the stallion to blow his load without permission. He, on the other hand, was free to enjoy that rounded rump, the muscles that pressed back against him, and the hot, silken walls of that pucker squeezing on him with every thrust.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Anthony grunted as he felt the urge to pick up his pace, but he held himself back, making sure to take it slow. Let the little slut earn it, let the stallion feel what it was like to be under a donkey rather than the other way around. Let age and experience take the lead, and pleasure them both.
In, out, in, out, his balls swinging forward and lightly tapping the stallion's sac. Aiden's growing gasps and whimpers were proof positive that he wanted to cum, that he needed it badly, but the fact that he didn't try and take it impressed Anthony. For all that there was a massive age difference between them, the stallion at least understood where he was meant to fit between them. He could be respected for that.
In, out, and finally in. Anthony released himself, sighing softly as he felt his balls pull up, his sac tightening and his shaft throbbing with full heat and need. He hunched forward once, twice, three times, holding it against the stallion at the end of the last one. The warmth flooding up his shaft and pooling near the head, swelling in the depth of the stallion was everything that he wanted, everything that he needed. With a soft, slow sigh, he gradually dragged himself out, feeling every little squelch of his seed and all that lube mixing together.
Finally, his shaft popped free, and white seed and clear lube fell out in a waterfall from that stretched pucker. It took a full thirty seconds for it to stop, ending only when the donkey was able to undo the leather straps that held the stallion to the breeding post and let him kneel down.
A cursory glance confirmed that he was fine, save for that throbbing erection. Anthony shook his head, nudging it with the toe of his shoe.
"You are beyond needy right now, it seems."
"Mmmmph...yes, sir." Aiden nodded, the white fur around his wrists and ankles ragged with sweat, as was much of the rest of him. "I...I really..."
"Do you want to cum?"
"Yes, sir. Please...please, sir."
"Then you may."
He sat down at the edge of the bed as the stallion took off his jockstrap. Without so much as a word, the donkey removed his shoes, laying them at the foot of the bed beside him before tucking his socks inside. He extended one foot and pushed down, squashing the head of the stallion's cock beneath the end of the digits. Aiden gasped, huffing and arching his back.
"S-sir?"
"You will cum with these."
"Nnngh..."
"And when you are done, you will lick them clean. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"You may begin."
And as Aiden gently pulled the donkey's feet together, grinding his shaft between them, Anthony smiled slightly. Young, yes, but industrious enough, and certainly more than willing to learn for his pleasures.
Perhaps he should stay a while, see if he could educate a few of the employees here. It would only help their business with more at the extreme end of the spectrum, after all.
The End
Summary: An experienced donkey comes to visit the Farmer's View, and enjoys a younger stallion.
Tags: M/M, BDSM, Bondage, Jockstrap, Stallion, Donkey, The Farmer's View, Horses, Equines, Brothel, Strip Club, Riding Crop, Crop, Impact Play, Age Difference, Prostitution,