Chapter Text
Pagol woke early in the morning, eating a slow breakfast and making himself a cup of coffee on his fire stove. It was a luxury that he normally didn’t have the time for but he was able to savor it slowly as he walked out to his barn.
“Wake-y, wake-y,” he said, knocking on the wood of the stalls to give the occupants inside enough time to wake up as he moved to the back of the storage space and readied a saddle and other tack gear. “Hm, Denny? Ready for the day?”
The centaur inside was slow to rouse but huffed and snorted at him.
Pagol just smiled fondly. “I know, I know,” he said, purposefully misinterpreting the noises as he moved around the space. “I’m getting breakfast. No need to yell at me.”
The hard grain was hardly a centaur’s usual diet, but it fit the aesthetic of a horse and had enough nutrients and calories for what Pagol was needed so he scooped the designated amount into the feeder bag, measuring it precisely and then slinging it over his shoulder.
The centaur in the stable was not there by choice.
Denman’s Call, as Pagol had named him or Den or Denny as Pagol now referred to him as, used to be a wild centaur. He used to gallop free and fast across the plains, with whatever family or group he was a part of. Pagol didn’t put much effort into knowing centaur culture and he couldn’t care less where Den had come from. Pagol was only concerned with his current training.
Den was glaring at him as he pushed open the stable door and walked inside.
Nights couldn’t be too comfortable for the centaur. While the stall itself was spacious and roomy, Den was tightly secured to a wooden frame that kept him from kicking or thrashing or attacking Pagol. His arms were tied behind his back, forearm to forearm, and the bit and harness on his face kept his head upright, his neck straining to ease the pull where it was tied to a beam above him.
His tail swished in irritation, the only part of him that could move, as Pagol circled him, running a hand from the shoulder to his flank, scratching at the hair and then giving him a friendly pat.
“Ready for breakfast?” he asked, knowing that Den would be eager to be released from his sleeping bondage.
Den huffed at him, so like a horse that Pagol laughed. He didn’t understand why the centaur was so resistant to be used like a horse when he acted so much like one.
He walked back to the front of the frame, undoing the knot that held Den’s reins up and unlooping them so the centaur could finally relax. Den dropped his chin to his chest immediately, rolling his neck and stretching out the muscles that had been pulled taut the entire night. He groaned in appreciation, even when the rest of him was still held tight.
“Good boy,” Pagol crooned, unlatching the bar of Den’s bit and letting it dangle off to the side so that only the ring gag held Den’s mouth open.
He didn’t trust the centaur not to bite, even after all this time.
“Good boy,” Pagol repeated, securing the feeding bag around Den’s neck and head so that he could lick up and awkwardly swallow his breakfast. As he should.
Den knew better than to resist the method of feeding at this point. A hunger strike had only gotten him forcefed, Pagol using long tubes that stuck all the way down his throat as he dumped the food directly into his stomach. No, eating like this was much better for him.
Pagol let him eat as he stepped to the tack side of the stall, where all the equipment and tools needed to dress Den up for a day of work were stored. The centaur didn’t flinch anymore at the blanket and saddle that were draped over his back, only grunting a little as Pagol tightened the straps and made sure everything was secure.
But it wouldn’t be fun if there wasn’t a little bit of fight left.
The chest harness always made Den stiffen. The leather straps were tight, looping under his chest to frame his tits nicely before fastening over his shoulders. His bound arms had to be pulled up, straining to reach the straps that now dangled down his back, and it forced him to arch his chest forward or risk choking himself.
Pagol unstrapped the feed bag since Den was now unable to bend over and eat. The centaur knew by now that if he went hungry throughout the day, it was entirely his fault for not eating his breakfast fast enough.
“Are we going to be grouchy today?” Pagol teased, tweaking Den’s nipples and bringing a good flush to the centaur’s face.
Den groaned at him, tongue poking through the ring gag as he panted and squirmed. Pagol finally stopped teasing him, if only to grab the proper bridle and bit that Den wore during the day.
The straps fit over the gag and head harness that Den was already wearing for the most part. The blinders fit on either side of his eyes, narrowing his vision down, and the bar gag was pushed across his mouth, over the ring gag. It rested hard on the edges of his mouth, meaning that any tug of the reins wasn’t necessarily painful but it was uncomfortable. It helped motivate Den to obey.
“I have a special treat for today,” Pagol said. With Den partially blinded now, his equine instincts took over a bit more, and Pagol liked to talk him through what was going on just so that he didn’t panic so much.
Den only glimpsed the nipple clamps at the last moment before they were snapping down on his chest, prompting a squealing whinny as he jerked and choked himself in his panic. Pagol just laughed at him, patting his broad chest and attaching the reins to the clamps. A bit more motivation for Den, as every tug of the reins was now less of a discomfort and more pain.
“There’s my good boy,” Pagol said, wiping a tear from Den’s cheek and then turning to get more tackle.
He walked to the back of Den this time, grinning at the way his tail swished with nerves, desperately trying to protect himself from what was coming next. Pagol just patted his rump, clicking his tongue and cooing at him in an almost friendly manner.
“Come on, Denny,” he said. “You know what to do. Then again, it is getting warmer. Maybe it’s time for a little haircut.”
With the winter and colder months, Pagol let Den’s tail grow out long--a little extra warmth for the bits, he would always tease--as long as Den lifted and presented his hole on command. When things started to thaw out and summer rolled around though, Pagol cut it short, wrapping the couple of inches of hair that he left over in tight fabric so that everything was in full view from Den’s throbbing, twitching hole to his bouncing, full balls.
Den swished his tail, hesitating just long enough to push his luck before reluctantly raising it to give Pagol access to his hole. As if Pagol needed his permission.
An extra strap from the saddle was looped under the tail, keeping it hoisted up, and Pagol whistled idly as he pulled up a stool and got to his favorite part of their morning routine.
“I always did think that evolution fucked you over,” he said, palming Den’s overly full balls and making him groan and then whine with need. “Got all the power and strength of a horse--the cock of one too--but no way to play with yourself. You gotta hump yourself silly, or find a mare who’s willing to give you a hand.”
Pagol chuckled at his own joke, loving the way he could see Den’s blush as it extended down his face and over the back of his shoulders. Den’s hindhooves twitched and jerked, obviously wanting to kick against the inspection and touch but securred too tightly.
“How did you do it before I got to you?” Pagol wondered out loud, taking his time massaging Den’s balls, coaxing his cock to drop out of its sheath. “You and your friends take turns jerking each other off? Or maybe one of you presented your hole just like this.” He rubbed Den’s furl, making the centaur whimper in shame. “And let all the others get off inside, hm? I bet that’s what you did. Were you the bottom bitch for your entire herd? Huh, boy? Who’s my little slutty bottom bitch pony?”
Pagol wasn’t expecting an answer and he really didn’t care about Den’s culture. He just loved how the words made Den squirm, shaking his head even as his cock eased into view, slick and wet and dripping.
“The cock of a horse and no way to get off,” Pagol said, letting go of Den’s balls to give the cock a few teasing touches along the head.
Den was huffing and groaning, and the wedge shaped head of his cock sputtered pre-cum that Pagol generously rubbed around. He quickly dropped it, making Den whine in protest, straining to look back at him to see what he was doing but limited by the blinders.
“Here we go,” Pagol said, wiping his hands on a rag and tossing it aside. “Let’s fill you up for the day.”
He had a wide range of beautiful wooden plugs, each carved and treated to last for a while. He had slowly been working Den up the line, stretching him more and more and then teasing him whenever he panted and whimpered at being empty. Today though, he had finished crafting a new toy for Den to enjoy, and he was eager to try it out.
“I have a special treat for today,” Pagol said, relishing the way Den’s skin twitched and he struggled to look over his shoulder, to catch a glimpse of what would soon be violating him. His hole was hungry for it, opening and closing eagerly though, and Pagol was ready to give him exactly what he wanted.
He had spent a couple weeks crafting the wooden spheres, carefully sizing them and treating them so that no splinters remained. They were all bound together with sturdy leather strips, increasing from the size of a goose egg to spheres as fat and thick as Pagol’s fists. Den’s hole was hungry of course, and while a horse cock had size and girth to brag about, a horse ass could be stretched and filled with impossibly large toys.
Pagol pressed the first ball in and had to hold back a laugh as Den sighed and relaxed, probably thinking that was all there was to it. As he kept going though, Den began squirming more and more, until he was whimpering and begging behind his gag as Pagol pushed in the bigger ones.
“Relax for me,” Pagol said, keeping even pressure behind the second-to-largest sphere and waiting for Den to submit and let it in.
Den was begging him, probably to stop but Pagol liked to think he was asking for more. Finally his hole gave, letting the ball sink inside to join the rest as Den’s cock leaked a glob of pre-cum. It oozed off the tip, dangling unbroken until it reached the floor and even then, it stayed stretched. Pagol hummed in delight, wondering just how frustrated Den felt with blue horse balls.
“One more,” he said, lining up the next, largest sphere against Den’s hole, and the centaur sobbed.
With enough coaxing and teasing tickles around his rim, Den finally took it with a gasp, his cock jumping and twitching. But he didn’t cum. Pagol rubbed his flank, already praising him for a job well done. A loop of leather was all that dangled out of Den’s ass now, a convenient hand hold for whenever Pagol needed to remove the toy, but their sheer size would keep them seated firmly in the centaur, preventing him from pushing them out before Pagol decided he had had enough.
Pagol stood, wiping his hands clean one last time before finally undoing the bindings on Den’s horse body. He was twitching with the strain of the toys and his arousal, and even though he weakly stamped a hoof, he wasn’t in much of a position to put up a fight. He was too focused on the toy in his ass, the clamps on his nipples, and keeping his back arched enough so that he didn’t accidentally choke himself.
It was easy for Pagol to swing himself up, settling himself in the saddle and snapping the reins, urging Den forward. The centaur groaned and sniffled and while there was still fight and defiance in his eyes, he obediently walked forward, only stumbling a little at all the sensations.
His face was red, and tears were streaking down his cheeks as Pagol directed him out of the stall and towards the front doors of the barn.
Pagol guessed this was his least favorite part, and it always made him laugh at how shy and flustered the centaur could still get.
Cock still hard and dripping and tail pulled up to show off the toy stuffed into his ass, Den strutted out of the barn, head forced high and his tits turned up, face burning with humiliation.
Pagol could hardly be bothered, whistling a simple tune as he dug in with his heels and gave Den’s reins a jerk, turning him towards the fields and then urging him faster. He whistled sharply to call the herding dogs, and soon the barking eager hounds were jumping around Den’s hooves, much more eager to start the work day than he was.
It had taken a lot of training to stop Den from spooking at the dogs but Pagol was proud to say they hadn’t been kicked once, and while Den still blushed and squirmed whenever they ducked below him to lick and taste his dripping cock, he knew better than to protest.
“Come on, boys,” Pagol said, talking to all the animals at once. “Let’s get the sheep out to graze.”
He set Den at a smart trot, knowing that each time his hooves hit the dirt, it made his cock bounce and the wooden balls in his ass to shift and roll. Usually, by the time they got to the field, Den had settled down enough that his cock was half-retreated back into its sheath. Today though, he was a shivering, dripping mess as they pulled to a stop outside the paddock, and he whimpered as the dogs all immediately swarmed for a taste.
“At least let me get down,” Pagol teased the hounds, keeping a firm hand on Den’s reins as he dismounted and moved to unlock the gate.
He paused after he swung it open, just studying the mess that Den had become with a smirk.
He had four dogs all jostling for a position underneath him, like a mother cow with too many calves, as they each lapped and fought for a taste of his salty pre-cum. One of his hindlegs kept twitching off the ground, like he wanted to kick and was just barely holding himself back, but the motion just made it look like he was giving them more room and access to his nether regions. His eyes were rolled back, mouth open and panting, and drool was already starting to drip down his chin.
Pagol made a note to make sure he was extra hydrated today.
He let the dogs have their fun a moment more, until Den was sobbing, hips twitching as he wanted to fuck and cum but didn’t have quite enough stimulation. Or comfort. The saddle and harness kept his body to taut and bound, stretched back too far that any thrusting motion was incredibly uncomfortable.
“Okay, boys, shoo!” Pagol said, waving the dogs off finally and he stepped back and remounted Den.
The centaur sobbed in relief, even if it meant Pagol was now tugging on the reins and nipple clamps again, forcing him into the uncomfortable trot. At least they were moving and at least the dogs had backed off.
Pagol’s farm was a sprawling ranch with fields to plow and plant and herds of sheep that needed to be rotated from pasture to pasture throughout the week, as well as barns and buildings further along his property that needed to be visited and checked. All in all, the trips back and forth could get long and tedious.
Which is why Pagol had Den, his sweet, sweet thing.
Den wasn’t his only centaur of course, just his favorite.
The trot out to the pasture did help Den a little. He wasn’t drooling as much and while he still whimpered and squirmed whenever they paused for too long, his cock wasn’t dripping as much either.
Pagol didn’t dismount to unlock the gate, just directed Den alongside the latch and bending down to undo it, directing the dogs in with a sharp whistle.
They were reluctant to leave Den’s cock, each getting in a few last licks before darting off into the pasture, barking and yapping as they split up to gather the herd of sheep and move them where Pagol wanted. As they worked, Pagol tugged idly on the reins, milking Den’s clamped nipples as he shifted and stepped in place, doing his best to be obedient but struggling as Pagol pushed his buttons.
Finally the dogs had rounded up the sheep, herding them out of the gate and down the road. Pagol waited until they were all out before locking the gate behind them and snapped the reins on Den’s shoulders, forcing him into a canter to catch up with the group.
Pagol directed the dogs with whistles, making sure there were no stragglers as they transported the whole group from one pasture to the other. As always, the sheep were panicked and disorganized but as soon as they were led into the open gate with a new pasture to graze on, they spread out immediately, settling down to their own breakfasts now that the dogs weren’t barking and snapping at them.
“Good boys! Good boys!” Pagol praised as the dogs now circled back around Den, barking and jumping at him in their excitement over a job well done.
Den whimpered as they all fought over his cock again, a treat for their success in their minds, and Pagol just settled him with a pat on the head, letting the pups have a treat as they deserved it.
“Now, now,” Pagol said as Den whimpered in protest. “You know better. Let them get their treat, they’ve done such a good job.”
This was another area that Den needed more training in--understanding that his body was for others’ pleasure, even if that meant dogs and other animals wanted to use him. He still protested and shied away, looking pleadingly at Pagol whenever the dogs were let into his stall at night or in moments like this.
For extra measure, Pagol stood him there for a couple extra moments, until he was twitching and squirming so much that Pagol had to tug sharply on the reins to calm him back down.
“Come on,” he said, digging in his heels. “Can’t just sit around all day. There’s other chores to do.”
Den was eager to finally be moving again, stepping sharply but carefully so that he didn’t kick any dogs but desperate to get away from them.
Pagol steered him in the direction of that half-stables, a smaller barn and paddock where the more untrained centaurs were sheltered until Pagol had whipped some manners into them. Like breaking wild horses it was. It was also where centaurs were kept during punishments, if they disobeyed enough that Pagol deemed it necessary for a more drawn out correction.
It had been a while since Den had ended up in the stables himself, but Pagol figured he would do well to be reminded. And besides, Pagol was eager to train up the newest spit-fire centaur he had gotten last spring. The wild thing had been in the half-stables all winter, trained whenever Pagol had a spare evening, but he still had that bite and fight in him that made him unusable.
But Pagol was sure that with the right hand and techniques, he could have the stallion ready for planting in the spring. He wanted to get the centaur used to pulling the plow and heavy wagons, and maybe seeing the way Den was so docile and accepting and obedient, he would finally realize that his new life wasn’t all too bad.
Pagol whistled a tune as Den trotted along, listening to the centaur huff and pant as sweat collected on his shoulders and began to drip down his back. Pagol smiled at the back of Den’s head, remembering how much spitfire he had had when Pagol had first captured him versus how sweet and obedient he was now.
Maybe Pagol would let him cum as a treat soon. Den had spent nearly a half dozen seasons with him now, a while Pagol liked the way he squirmed and the way his balls felt so full and tender, he figured a special treat was due. Maybe Pagol was getting soft for the centaur, letting a few rules slip like letting him keep plugs and toys in him even after the work day was finished, collecting bowls of his pre-cum for him to drink, and brushing stinging nettles over his nipples and hole so he didn’t get too bored when they finished chores early.
Not that he would let Den know he was going soft.
He would just tie him to his regular post and continue to let the dogs at him, marveling how nature had created such a horny, fertile creature but gave it no way to jerk off. Den had never even touched his own cock before Pagol had taken him in. He could almost laugh at the irony, even if Den didn’t think it was nearly as hilarious.
The centaur just needed a sense of humor.