Cuckold Colt

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This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.


Happy birthday!

“Where are you taking me?”

The dappled grey stallion snorted and swept his mane to the other side of his neck with a practiced flip of his paw. Dressed in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, he had grabbed the first items of clothing that had leapt out at him from his overstuffed wardrobe that morning as his mare dragged him out the door of their flat, a wicked gleam in her eye. The gleam in itself was not unusual as she was often up to no good – it was only the manner of ‘no good’ that perked his interest on this particular Saturday afternoon as they made their way through the city. The city was a short drive from their flat in a semi-rural location – a commuter’s town really – and a place they rarely visited, which could only imply cause for a special occasion.

Rubbing his throat, Madoc broke into a light trot to keep up with Amethyst, rainwater glittering on the street before him. His black hooves shone in the afternoon sunlight as he clip-clopped forth in the traditional equine fashion of going without any kind of shoes or boots. For those with hooves, they were mainly a fashion statement in everyday life and superfluous to most work and life. And who would waste money when they could show off a little more anyway? He rather liked his hooves, though would not admit it openly. Too gay.

His mate, the chestnut mare, walked ahead of him down the main street, a brown bag patterned with feral equine silhouettes slung casually over her shoulder as she strode forward with utmost confidence in where she was going. High street shops flanked her left and right as she walked briskly down a street designed for pedestrians only, flagstones perfectly smooth beneath her also bare hooves. She boasted no markings except the white diamond, an equine star marking, between her eyes, though it was often covered by her long forelock. Amethyst huffed up at it, unaware of Madoc’s smile as he caught the motion. She was always forgetting to go get it trimmed.

In response to his question, near enough forgotten in the span of time it took for her to pay him mind, she glanced back over her shoulder, a gust of wind catching her red forelock and blowing it into her eyes. She was too focused upon her path to sweep it aside.

“Ah, now I can’t tell you that.” Amethyst smirked, swatting the colt’s hip with a well aimed flick of her tail as he caught up to her. “That would ruin the surprise. And you wouldn’t want me to spoil the surprise now, would you, sweetheart?”

“Come on,” he pestered, nostrils flaring as he slunk an arm slyly around her waist, slowly as if she would not notice if he was patient enough. “It can’t be that much of a secret, surely? What’s going on?”

He blinked innocently and, glancing sideways at him, Amethyst’s heart skipped a beat, that funny little jump that his blue eyes never failed to stir in her chest. Licking her dry lips, at risk of chapping in the February cold, she bought herself time and tucked a stray strand of hair behind a twitching ear.

“A secret’s a secret,” she countered after a moment. “It wouldn’t be a surprise now, if I told you, would it?”

Madoc grumbled and flicked his tail, crossing his arms over his chest as Amethyst’s pace quickened. He very nearly had to trot to keep up with her long, swift stride. The grey stallion squeezed his forearms closer around his torso against the nippy chill in the air. If the stormy clouds roiling above were anything to go by, they would be seeing snow again before the day was out. He hoped it wouldn’t cause any trouble getting into work when Monday once again rolled around.

“Maybe one clue.”

He pricked his ears, leaning in closer to the mare expectantly. A clue? What could it be? He nibbled Amethyst’s ear and she tugged her head away with a giggle, shoving his shoulder with enough force to make him stumble a step sideways.

“I have someone who is very interested in meeting you,” Amethyst revealed, dropping him a look out of the corner of her eye that told almost more than her words alone. “They…have an interest in stallions of your kind.”

Well, that gave absolutely fuck all away. Madoc suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, nostrils flaring ever so slightly. An answer that was not an answer was Amethyst’s favourite style.

“Male or female?”

He tried for a little more information but Amethyst shook her head, checking him with her hip.

“Nope, you’re not getting it that easily.” She grinned and tapped his nose with a forefinger, too light for it to hurt though he still snorted at the digit with the hoof-like tip. “Something about a colt like you has, ah, ‘perked their interest’, so to speak.”

He furrowed his brow and rubbed the ist esc front of his muzzle, wracking his mind for what a stranger – to him, at least – could possibly want with him. There was nothing strange about him, nothing at all, not in his mind. Though he was a cross breed… Madoc shook his head, pondering. That couldn’t be it, surely not? Cross breeds were not all that unusual, where furries of different species’ mated, but there was one other thing…

Dropping into his own mind, Madoc considered what someone could be interested in, fingers wound between those of Amethyst’s as she drew him gently along the street.

Built in the body shape and frame of a Warlander, an Andalusian crossed with a Friesian, Madoc’s heritage, though not strictly equine, was stark for all to see. It was a strange note for furries of different species to produce offspring that could resemble either one or both of their parents – a wolf siring an otter pup, if his mate was of otter-kind – but even more peculiar that past lines and hidden genes could sometimes produce young that resembled neither of them. In one sense, it highlighted the beauty and diversity of the world, where no one species was more prevalent than other.

With a mother and father not of the same species as he – not by far! One was even a canine and what greater difference could you get? – Madoc often received attention. He couldn’t think of anything else that would draw attention that he did not actively do himself. Of course, he got looks in the gym and his physique drew looks when he was so inclined to show it off. Or when Amethyst showed him off. The stallion smirked, lips quirking up at the corner closest to Amethyst. When the mare raised an eyebrow in unspoken question, Madoc complied with an explanation.

“Is it something to do with me?” He tried, tongue-tied over his words. “I mean… Me, as I am? The weird thing with me not having a horse mother or father? Being an odd species? And slow the heck down!” He laughed, breath frosting before his muzzle. “Are you running a marathon or what, huh?”

Amethyst giggled, squeezing his paw tighter as she took note and slowed her pace to match his shorter, more patient stride. She walked like she had somewhere to be whereas Madoc took his days at a more sustainable pace.

“It would be more accurate to say that you’re weird for not being a canine or avian,” she teased, ignoring the room of his eyes. “Okay, more seriously now… Hm… It’s your body, in a sense, colt, I’ll give you that. Perhaps you are getting just a little bit warmer here”

Amethyst teased without revealing any more information and he huffed, ears flipping back to his skull.

“Come on!” His impatience waned and he knocked one hoof against the other as he split his focus between keeping pace and solving the mystery. “What’s going on really now? You can’t drive me over here and expect me to not wonder at all.”

Amethyst shook her head and let go of his paw, wrapping her arm around his waist instead to squeeze herself in to his side, bodies moulding together as if they were made for each other.

“Easy now, colt,” she chided. “You’ll have your fill soon enough. We’re here.”

He turned to look and raked his gaze up the front of a hotel, the interior sparkling with soft, mood lighting. It was not a chain venue and looked rather upper class for their budget, though he did not see it as something he should question. Everyone deserved to be spoiled sometimes, especially Amethyst. And, yes, he needed to be spoiled too. Smiling to himself, he nickered and slipped his arm around her shoulders, eyes bright with excitement. She must have something planned.

Amethyst always had something planned.

The hotel smelled faintly of cherry blossoms as they stepped into the atrium, double doors closing in a whoosh of air at their hooves. Blinking to allow his eyes to adjust to the lower light level, Madoc took in the room, skin trembling as if he was about to burst from it, though his skin only twitched so in that equine expression. They passed a potted cherry blossom, spindly, dark branches reaching skywards to a sun that it would never see while so cooped up indoors, pink petals curled into tight, protective buds. Small, round bulbs were set into the reddish ceiling at intervals, casting a warm glow over the lobby, a wide, gleaming desk with an attendant situated directly across from the door where they could not be missed.

He rubbed his muzzle to stifle a yawn. The room made him feel as if he could curl up on one of the strategically placed black sofas, adorned with red detailing, and snooze the afternoon away. But there was too much to do. His ears swivelled backwards and forwards again. Just what was going on? Would he find out now?

Madoc could barely contain his excitement as Amethyst checked in, bouncing from hoof to hoof as his nostrils flared. Just what was taking so long? Were they going somewhere from the hotel? What had his mare planned for him?

She seemed to take a time, only fatih esc having the smooth-toned goat stumble over her accent a single time – quite impressive for someone unfamiliar with the Welsh eccentricities. And, to her credit, she only vaguely grimaced at the slip on his part; it was not even that noticeable. She was getting better at hiding her ‘faces’, as she said, acting with too much expression in her muzzle and eyes around strangers.

The goat was tactful, however, and kindly moved the conversation on, sliding a key card across the shiny countertop towards her chestnut paw. At such a nice hotel in the city centre, Madoc could only suppose that he saw many foreign furs with strange accents in his line of work, perhaps both business furs and those seeking pleasure, hitting up the tourist spot for shows and all the shopping delights the indoor complexes allowed. His lips quirked and he nipped the inside of his lip to conceal his amusement. Regardless of who the front desk attendant came into contact with, Madoc would never refer to Ammy as foreign. That would get him slapped. Hard.

“Here you are, ma’am.” The goat with finely groomed grey fur passed her a folded sheet of paper, the crease crisp and centred. “You will find all the details you require, as discussed, right here.”

He fingered a horn as he inclined his muzzle gracefully towards the lifts, two set close together to allow passage to the higher floors. Madoc had no doubt that Ammy would take one of them. She had developed a slight aversion to stairs after ramping up the volume on ‘deadlift day’.

“Your room is on the third floor, fifth down the hall. Is there anything else I may do for you?”

She smiled a winning smile, her brown eyes warm.

“No, that’s perfect, thank you very much for your help,” she replied, flicking up the key card in a grateful gesture. “I will just be back down later to book in for dinner at the restaurant, if you are confident that there will not be such a high demand tonight.”

“No, it has been very quiet lately.” He was swift to reassure her. “I cannot imagine that you would need to book at all, though it is a safeguard against a sudden rush. There are no particularly popular shows on tonight at the theatre, which is the only time that we are full to the brim when it comes to dining.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes lingered on his green ones long enough for a blush to tingle across the goat’s cheeks. “I’m sure we’ll see you again soon.”

She turned to the stallion standing not so patiently behind her, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raised.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Come on, colt.”

She trotted to the lifts with a spring in her step, tail flicking above her rear. Madoc grunted, ears flicking forward and back again, following at a brisk clip, though at a far less graceful gait. His hooves clopped clumsily over the linoleum and he grimaced, wondering how she was able to move without making an obnoxious amount of noise. His larger, louder hooves would not have been nearly as noticeable without her elegance floating before him, glutes working as she slowed to a more languid walk. Madoc swallowed hard, not even trying to keep his eyes on a less erotic body part. Truth be told, there was little to none of the mare that he did not find sexy in some way.

She paused for the lift, hitching her shoulder bag up so that a crease in the strap stopped digging into muscle and bone in an unwelcome distraction. Stepping into the lift when the doors slid open with a creak of internal mechanisms, she leaned against the mirrored rear wall, fingers tucked into the pockets of her jeans. Madoc stood in the middle of the lift, hooves spread as it started to move upwards with a clunk and a groan. His ears twitched, curiosity getting the better of him. “So where are we…”

He trailed off, cowed into silence by the look she gave him. It was not that he had done anything wrong – it was simply a look that said: obey.

“Quiet.” He bobbed his muzzle and folded his paws in front of his crotch, though it was difficult to hide an equine hard-on at the best of times. As it was, his shaft tented out the front of his jeans, thankfully a loosely cut style, and bulged into his underwear. The horse grunted and slid his gaze away, neck hot under the collar of his t-shirt. It was hot to be told what to do. At least to him.

As obedient as a foal, he said not a single word more in the lift and followed the mare devotedly to the hotel room, standing behind to sneak glances at her rear while she fiddled with the key card and room door. The hotel room was nothing different to any other that they had spent time in, cleanly furnished with oak furniture, the bed on the left and large windows directly across from the door permitting them entrance. A desk was tucked by the window on the right with a chair set back from it as if it had been waiting for them.

Dropping her bag by the window, Amethyst stretched her arms over her head, working out the kinks from her back and ataköy esc shoulders. He stood to attention, lips stilled in a straight line that would have become a smile if his whole body had not thrummed with nerves, wondering if all was to be revealed now that they were alone, a closed door to their backs.

Eyes smouldering, Amethyst glanced back at him, crossing one arm over her chest as she continued stretching, irritated by his anxious hoof-shuffling. He should be quiet, as she had told him.


She jerked her head towards the chair, which was positioned ever so innocently in front of the hotel room desk. He stared at it, tail flicking. In any other situation, he could have seen his mare sitting at that very desk, laptop open in front of her as her hoof-tipped fingers raced across the keyboard, bringing life to another story in a way that only she could do.

And now he did not know what that chair would hold for him.

Madoc gulped and slowly seated himself, paws curled around the opposite biceps as if for reassurance. If he clutched on to a string of reality, the world that he knew, perhaps he could hold on for just a little longer. Submission tingled on the edge of his mind with a familiar song and he shook his head with a muted groan as the mare unpacked her bag, laying out several indiscernible items upon the desk, just out of his line of sight. He did not dare turn his long muzzle to see what she had in store and instead looked straight ahead, ears pricked up tall and quivering.

Amethyst smiled privately, careful to not allow him to see her grin: it simply would not do. It was better to keep a colt waiting, wanting and ever guessing her next move. She hummed a tune for her own ears as she set out the purple and black paw cuffs – a brand new purchase from a professional leather worker – in a spot where Madoc could smell the leather but not see them. He could only wonder what manner of leather item – restraints? – she had dug out of her bag. He blinked, line of sight angled to the right of a mirror that would have otherwise allowed him some view of the room. Damn it.

Amethyst’s heart pounded, anticipation roaring with impatience through her veins. Pressing her palms together, the mare took a deep breath, eyes half closed as she composed herself, paws on the desk that doubled as a dressing table, if one was so inclined. Soon, very soon, it would not be just them in the hotel room. And then wouldn’t the colt get a surprise?

Someone to the exterior of the hotel room, out in the hallway, knocked lightly on the door, rapping twice with their knuckles alone. Tail flicking, she straightened, the strap of her strappy, light blue shirt slipping down one shoulder, although she pretended not to notice. One ear flicked towards the door as the outsider knocked again, again twice in smooth succession. She smiled, one paw on her hip as she threw the curious stallion a cheeky wink, just to keep him guessing.

Excellent. He was early.

She opened the door with a flourish, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raised as if for effect. Who could have been expecting a caller, of all things? Amethyst hid her smile, painted lips curved into a smirk. She was groomed finely from head to hoof. She was ready.

A mare, after all, should look to impress her lover. Even if he was only there for her pleasure and entertainment. And that lover was not her colt.

On the other side of the threshold stood a bay stallion with a jagged broken stripe slashed down the front of his muzzle, a pink snip on his nose. Dressed simply in jeans that had seen better days (or perhaps it was a fashion statement) and a grey t-shirt with a band name that she did not recognise, he was easy on the eyes and his smile came readily and willingly. His eyes were dark brown – a kind eye – and he smiled shyly as Amethyst drew him into the room, kicking it closed behind him. The lock snapped shut with a decisive click that told the three of them – one not in the know – that there was no going back. What was done was done and, well, there would only be events of the most interesting persuasion going forward.

Amethyst kissed the stallion lightly on the cheek, a chaste kiss, and Madoc’s paws twitched in his lap, the colt’s eyes wide.

“Nice to see you again,” she murmured with a wink, paws stroking down his bare arms, his shirt tighter than it should have been over a muscled chest. “It’s certainly been a while.”

Madoc whimpered as her paw trailed down the front of the strange horse’s chest and stomach to his crotch, the backs of her fingers teasing over a bulge more dominant than Madoc’s, pushing against the front of his jeans. As a bigger stallion, a good head taller than the dappled Warlander, the draft horse cast the colt a cocky smirk when Amethyst’s gaze dropped to the object of her attention.

Mine today, he seemed to say, tail flagging proudly.

Though a charade that they had played through before, Madoc grunted and half-stood from the chair, tail swishing. He would show this stallion that he couldn’t have his mare! She couldn’t touch him like that without him saying it was okay. He had vetted all of her past partners, after all. He had had final say-so. Why should this time be any different?

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