Date: Wed, 22 Mar 2017 20:26:49 +0000
From: "out-cast@hotmail.com" <out-cast@hotmail.com>
Subject: Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures

"Pleased to meet you, Owen," Dr Frankel says, smiling. I smile back and
shake the hand of my new boss, or tutor, or whatever term an apprentice vet
is supposed to use towards his superior.

"I am sure we'll make a fine veterinary out of you. A proper vet, not one
of those city boys who only treat hamsters and Chihuahuas. Although, tell
me honestly, do you feel you should have joined a small animal practice?"

I do – feel I should have joined a small animal practice, that is – I
do not honestly tell him that, though. Instead, I smile some more and
assure him that farm animals are all I have ever been interested in.
Veterinary apprenticeships are hard enough to come by; no sense throwing
away a chance, even if it isn't the perfect one.

"You may as well leave your jacket on, we're needed. And it is an important
client, so be on your best behaviour."

Bouncing along in Dr Frankel's Landrover, I am filled in: the client is the
local stud farm, the animal in need is Blue Boy. I'll admit that I am horse
racing philistine, but even I know who Blue Boy is: Winner of the Derby and
the St Leger, sold for something like 12 million a couple of years ago to
be put out to stud. When Blue Boy is ill, the country sits up and takes
notice.

I feel a lot happier suddenly. If this is the type of patient I will get to
deal with, perhaps my new job is a better opportunity than I anticipated.

At the prosperous looking, squeaky clean stud farm, we are rushed into the
stables, where the stud manager and half the staff receive us with panicked
looks. The stallion behind them looks magnificent, without a doubt the most
majestic animal I have ever been close to: rippling muscles moving under a
silky dark chestnut coat. He nervously steps crabwise across the stall,
though, the distress clearly noticeable in his body language.

"Yes, that looks pretty swollen," my boss says as he kneels next to the
stallion and gently touches the manhood swinging heavily between Blue Boy's
hind legs, so vast it almost touches the straw on the floor. The animal
snorts, but doesn't try to avoid the vet's hands, as if he knows that help
is coming.

Dr Frankel curses quietly, as his fingers probe the horse's huge balls.
"There you are, you bastard," he mutters to no one in particular.

"I am afraid that he's got an intraurethric globular obstruction that
prevents the evacuation of his testicles," the vet explains turning towards
the manager. "The testicles are swollen to bursting and need to be
emptied. Basically, he needs to cover a mare."

"What, now?"

"Yes of course now. Good grief, man, we cannot lose time. The pressure
inside the testicles is building to damaging levels. If Blue Boy doesn't
have an orgasm very soon, he'll very likely end up sterile."

The manager blanches, "but ... it is outside the mating season. All the
mares are pregnant ... there is none in heat ready to cover."

The doctor swears and with barely a moment's pause turns towards me. "Owen,
take off your trousers."

"WHAT?!"

"Don't just stand there, boy. That is a multimillion-pound stallion there
and he needs my help. I am the vet, you are my apprentice, now take off
your trousers."

At a nod of my boss, two strong stable lads grab my upper arms and
protesting I get dragged over to a workbench. In seconds, I am on my back,
naked from the waist down and with my legs pulled up and spread wide by my
two assailants.

Blue Boy is brought over until he towers over my body. Paralysed by fear
and confusion, I watch his vast swollen cock pointing at me. 20 inches at
least, 24 more like, and even the narrowest point must be over 3 inches
wide. Oh Jesus, surely they don't expect me to be fucked by that, the head
is the size of a grapefruit!

"You have to take him deep, Owen, before you let him come. It will have to
be a massive orgasm to shift the obstruction."

"You can't ... I mean, I can't take ..."

"Oh, stop moaning. You're helping to treat a priceless animal." He grabs
the monster cock with both hands, and aims it at my arse. "Once the head is
in, it will all be easy enough. Take him deep. Remember, deep!"

I watch helplessly as Blue Boy bucks and with a single lunge drives his
manhood hard into me, ripping my arse to shreds – or at least that is
what it feel like. With two or three hard thrusts, the first 10 inches of
horse cock are rammed down my gut, driving the air from my lungs.

"Good lad, that's it. Let him in, and give him time to build up a good
orgasm."

Let him in? As if I have any choice. The pain is mind blowing. The stallion
is fucking me proper now with fast stabs, each one deeper than the
previous. He forces more and more of his huge cock into my belly and I am
helpless to stop him. I can only wait for him to be sated, wait for the
orgasm that will end this ordeal.

In the background I can hear the stable lads, "Oh my God, how the hell can
he take a pounding like that?" "Look at his arse. It is stretched so tight
around that cock ... I think his arse will tear before this is over." "Do
you think he will take all of it?" One of them laughs, "I don't think he
has much choice!"

The base of the stallion's dick is even wider than the centre, and every
new thrust further distends my virgin arsehole. My hole has given up the
fight and now just accommodates however big the invader, stretching to
incredible and agonising widths.

"Keep him going, Owen, take him in, all of him. Good lad."

All too soon, all 24 hard inches of solid horsemeat are pouncing through me
again and again, seemingly all the way up to my chest. My gut is stretched
tautly around the massive head and my organs are being pummelled every time
it smashes through. Blue Boy's grossly swollen balls slam against my
thighs. How the hell does that cock fit inside me? All of it, every single
inch, including the sheath! With every thrust, I can see my belly bulge
under the immense pressure, the outline of his flared head visible through
my belly wall, like the movie alien trying to burst out.

It suddenly hits home that I am being long-dicked by a stallion. A stallion
that is desperately trying to cum and that is fucking for his life. I am on
the receiving end of a horse cock that is driven in with all the raw power
a thoroughbred can muster, and while it feels I cannot take much more of
this punishment, I powerless and the Boy just forces me take more by
ramming his cock into me, harder and harder.

It takes almost half an hour. Half an hour of almost unbearable battering
for me. Half an hour of nervously building silence from the awed
spectators. Half an hour of relentless thrusting by the stallion, ever
faster, ever harder and ever more frantic, until an explosion of scorching
hot thick cum fills my gut. Blue Boy neighs with audible relief, but
doesn't let up his wild lunging fuck. For five of six more minutes he keeps
driving his massive pole into my cum-filled gut, hot seed squelching from
me with every thrust, while constant blasts of new juice keep my bowel
filled to the brim.

Finally the punishing tempo drops and, as the acute agony in my gut
lessens, I realise how much my body hurts. My muscles seem to have torn
themselves to shreds trying to resist the onslaught. Carefully I allow
myself to relax.

"Good boy," Dr Frankel says, as Blue Boys manhood drops from my abused
hole, although I am not sure whether he means the horse or me. "Good boy."
He pads the stallion's rump, while probing the testicles. "Good job,
Owen. You must have drained three or four pints from them just now. The
obstruction has shifted and in a couple of days he should be good as new."

Blue Boy is led away surrounded by staff and vet. I lie on my bench, still
holding my widespread legs. My belly is extended by the vast amount of cum
the stallion shot deep into my gut, the sticky liquid running down my arse
cheeks. Feeling bruised, battered and strangely proud, I try to make sense
of what just happened. My fingers gently probe the edges of my widely
gaping arsehole. Have I really just been raped violently by a race horse?
Raped! By a horse! Is that what being a country vet is all about?

A fire alarm is beeping in the distance.

Beep ... beep ... beep ...

I shoot up in bed and after a moment of confusion silence the alarm clock.

7:00

Time to get up. Time for my first day at my new practice.

As I get out of bed, my bum complains from the ravaging Peter, my current
lover, gave me last night. He is kind and handsome, but at 8 inches more
heavily hung than I find comfortable.

What was I dreaming just now? It was something about the day ahead, but I
cannot remember anything other than a vague sensation of excitement and
fear.

Am I really sure, I am suitable to be a farm vet? Perhaps it is not too
late to find a placing at a small animal practice.