InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Tale of Sesshoumaru ❯ Half a Lemon: of Ponies and Horsies ( Chapter 74 )

Disclaimer: I do not own copyright to any of the Inuyasha characters. Wish I did. I make no profit off of my fan fiction. Wish I did.

 

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Disclaimer #3: This fan fiction is rated R for violence, straight/gay/bi/group sex, gore and supernatural yummy goodness. If you are under the age of 18, I suggest getting your parents permission to read this. I am not responsible for any psychological damage my rantings might bring you :^P

 

 

 

 

The horses ran hard, sweat lathering at their mouths and chests. Miroku and Rin rode on Hizumeha's back, his black coat shining in the cold winter sunlight and his mane whipping them in the faces. The mares galloped behind, trying to catch up with the stallion who was trying to get home as quickly as possible so that his human rides would not catch cold.

 

The little girl had been bundled in layers of kimonos and blankets, the monk didn't have much but a single quilt stolen from the men's wing. She held the horse's hair tight, squealing and giggling all the way, her natural horsemanship coming through. It was Miroku who threatened to fall off over and over again. He had almost no experience riding horses, the only mount he ever used was the tanuki friend he knew and Kirara, both of which were wider in the seat.

 

The first village they came to held the school. It was Akanesuji's first conquest, taken before the raid on the neighboring estate. Everyone recognized the sound of those magical hooves, faint as they were from the inches of mud on the roads. Figures flooded out of buildings to greet them, humans, youkai and hanyou, adults and children.

 

Rin's eyes were wide. She had never seen so many children in one place pressing into a cheering crowd. “Miroku, look at them all,” she said grinning. She already missed her mother, but this opportunity to be with others was overwhelmingly good. Hands helped her down, her body stolen from the monk's before he too was helped down from the very tall horse.

 

With a shiver Hizumeha took his human form, standing up tall and lean again, towering at least a whole foot or more over Miroku. He looked down on him with a snarky grin and turned to the crowds. “Take the girl to my hut. I have much to speak to her about before she is let out with the others.”

 

“Another orphan my lord?” a kind older face said, grabbing the girl by the hand and patting her on the head.

 

“Yes...and no,” he replied. “I will explain. Have the elders come too. Come Miroku. You should hear this as well.”

 

The wives caught up and changed into their forms as well, panting hard from the exercising. Little Hin was last to fall into the group, her pony body so much smaller than the others. They didn't breathe hard because they were out of shape, it was just that the effort to keep up with their lord was taxing. His speed outdistanced their own. Women crowded around them, offering drinks and they were all glad to see each other again. Hugs were given all around. The village was not court, and for this they were glad.

 

Everyone gathered in the small hut, a little one room place with a fire already set and burning. Rin was given new clothes to change into and she did so behind a small curtain. Coming out she was dressed as all the other children of the village. Simple pants and haori, tabi socks and boots, a padded jacket. This was her new identity, a uniform to blend her in with all the others. When Hezumeha pointed to the spot before him, she nervously knelt before him. “Rin. Here you are no longer Akanesuji's daughter and Sesshoumaru's ward. If you tell anyone who you are, they are likely to laugh at you. Every child here claims to be Akanesuji's child and you will not be special here.”

 

Rin nodded. The village elders absorbing the information and realizing who this small human girl was.

 

“And as for Sesshoumaru, if you claim him as your father, you are likely to get challenged to a fight because you think you are someone special. There is a strict hierarchy here. If you want privileges, you must earn them by your skill. Over the next days you will be tested over and over and over again. The masters will find out your strengths and weaknesses, then place you in a training group.”

 

“I don't understand.”

 

“If you show promise with the sword, you will be put with the warriors. If you show promise with the bow, the archers. If it is close combat, you will train with the assassins.”

 

“I want to be a kinochi like my mother.”

 

“And around here, so does everyone else. It takes a special kind of person to be shinobi. You must master it all.”

 

Rin pursed her lips together. If that was how it was going to be, then she would fight her way to the top. “Thank you, Hezumeha,” she said with a curt bow. When her face came up, she was shocked with a little slap to the cheek.

 

“Sensai. I am no longer your servant to be talked down to.”

 

“Hai, sensai.” she said in understanding. From this moment onward, he would be her superior.

 

The horse nodded and motioned to the other men and women to take her away. When her little figure was out the door, he rubbed his cheeks and got a very worried look.

 

“What is it?” Miroku asked him, arching an eyebrow. He thought it had gone rather well. She seemed to comprehend that she was just like the others. It would be seeing her put it into practice that would be the challenge.

 

The horse sighed. “She is not like the others who come here. We get them from all over the land, children who have been beaten, abused, starved and abandoned. They take to the strict discipline and teachings easily because it feeds them, clothes them, makes them feel appreciated. When they achieve, they are rewarded. Rin is not like that. She doesn't seem to care about rewards. All she wants is revenge.”

 

“Then she will likely excel over the others.”

 

“If the others don't kill her first. How can she compare with full blooded youkai?”

 

“The same way I do,” the monk said with an evil glint. “I outsmart them.”

 

“What a crock of shit. You have that cursed palm and a strong spiritual gift at your disposal. Rin has nothing.”

 

“Rin has more than you think. If she can get away with calling Sesshoumaru baka-inu-chichi, she knows what she can and cannot do.”

 

The horse grinned. The monk was right. Rin was far more clever than her age gave her credit for. The next weeks with her here would certainly be interesting. “Come,” he said, standing back up. “We still have another hour ride to the fort, then we will be back in the morning to see her test.”

 

“Why go all the way there and back again?” Miroku asked.

 

Hizumeha licked his top lip. “A small ninja village is no place for me to enjoy myself.” He pushed past the smaller frame of the younger man, nodding to his three wives to follow and drag him along. Miroku felt a wave of heat wash over him and he didn't feel so cold anymore. Hina and Hiza filed out behind their lord, looking backwards with devilish grins as Hin spanked his ass forward, pushing him towards the door.

 

“You little tease,” he whispered to her, stopping hard and making her bump into his body as she walked forward. Hin gave a snort and pushed again, forcing him up against the door frame and not quite out the door.

 

“I dare you to rub your cock all over his back.”

 

“What's in it for me?”

 

“What do you think?” Hin pinched his ass hard and walked around him, joining the group as they stood waiting, Hezumeha talking in low tones to the elders and the women standing around. When Miroku joined them, the umayoukai changed to their equine forms and he jumped on Hizumeha's back like he owned him.

 

It gave the horse a little shiver but at the same time it made him mad. Giving rides to humans was the most degrading thing a stallion could do, and yet here he was doing so out of expediency. He wanted his toy badly. Dirty little thoughts had filled his brain for weeks, thoughts that made him giggle or flush with excitement. He had waited a long time for what was coming up and he would suffer the indignity of being his toy's mode of transportation because it would give him what he wanted sooner. Some sacrifices had to be made.

 

Miroku got bored after fifteen minutes of riding, Hin's suggestion burning in his brain. Would teasing an umayoukai while he was in his horse form qualify as bestiality? Decisions, decisions. Hezumeha wasn't a beast really. He could speak and make sentences. That was a lot more than Kirara, who looked really hot like a human. She couldn't say a word and he would do her like that in a heart beat. Screw the fact that she was a cat. She was a really, really hot cat.

 

With a little snicker to himself he looked back and saw Hina and Hiza galloping not far behind, their nostrils flaring and slobber splashing out of their mouths. Hin was somewhere back there, a little pony unseen. He then looked over Hizumeha's ears and saw the road was empty. With his left hand in the horse's mane and his right hand free, he lifted up his robes and pushed his fundoshi to the side, setting himself free to lay against the horse's warm coat.

 

Hizumeha's ears perked up immediately and Miroku bit his bottom lip in a funny glee. Grinding his pelvis into the ride, he picked up the rhythm and discovered it easier to hang on, his ass tighter in the seat. The horse picked up his heels and gave a harsh neigh, jolting harder and faster forward. Miroku almost found himself unseated.

 

The trees became a blur, the road a line of brown below him. He could not make out details anymore, just colors flashing by and the whipping sound of the wind. “Like that do you?” the pervy monk said, petting his neck, his nose buried into the long hairs that made like sandpaper against his cheeks.

 

Hizumeha was feeling high strung. Wound up like a race horse in a big event, looking for that chase. But there were no other horses, no other stallions nipping his heals, no one to kick out at and bite. It was just the promise of something terribly taboo and naughty over his back, making him long for something he shouldn't have or do. Stallions were stallions after all, and what he wanted to do was against the natural order of things.

 

The estate greeted him by opening up the gates quickly, allow him to gallop straight in and come to a halting slide, his back legs tucking down and his front raising slightly. With a whip of his tail he threw off the monk onto the ground and stomped around, his raging form wild and excited. He shook his head around, screaming as stallions do, a powerful and frightening creature to behold.

 

Miroku covered his head in a defensive manner, thinking the horse might paw him to death. Hizumeha instead backed off several feet and shook himself back into his normal form, his face wild and teeth gritted. “Come on monk,” he said, picking him up by the sleeve and pulling him up beside him. When servants scattered towards him, he waived them away. “I need no assistance with this guest,” was all he said, informing them that he was not an enemy but a friend.

 

He pushed past the main doors and up the multiple stair cases until they were in his bed chamber on the top floor. Closing the door behind him he pulled Miroku's mouth into hard kiss, taking his lips with bruising force as his hand ran up through his short black hair. Miroku gave a “hmmph” against the facial assault, only to melt into it when he realized he was not going to be beaten. “You humans,” he said, nipping at Miroku's chin, “are so confusing. First you play dominant with me, and now you submit.” He kissed the line of his jaw. “I like it.”

 

“Oh!” Miroku said, putting two and two together. Hin had gotten him to do something in horse behavior that meant he was dominant. “So, if I...were to fuck your ass...that would mean...”

 

“That you are my stallion...won't happen.”

 

Miroku grabbed his lover's crotch and rubbed it gently. “But what about when you took me in your mouth...what did that mean?”

 

Hizumeha blushed. What exactly did that mean? It was some sort of concession, yes. He had serviced him, but he was on top and Miroku was on the bottom...and...oh damn this was confusing. “You were on your back, like a submissive dog.”

 

“So if I lay on my back like a submissive dog and you take it while you're above me, you're still in control.”

 

“You humans are inventive, I'll give you that.” Hezumeha kissed him hard again, partially an effort to shut him up and make him stop coming up with such confusing ideas and secondly because those confusing ideas were really turning him on. He wrapped his arms around the young man's body and held him tight, grabbing at his shoulder blades and back. “Have you been a good pony boy?” He asked seductively into the closest ear. “Did the girls make you ready for me?”

 

Miroku felt a twinge from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. A warm, hot flushing twinge, memories of the girls taking him over and over again. “Would you like to see?” he whispered out with a breathy voice.

 

“hmmmmm,” came the taller man's reply, his hands sliding down to his lover's ass. He stopped when he felt a lump, the curve of a tail running down. “You....you kept it in all this time?”

 

“It made the ride here...very exciting.”

 

Hizumeha was hooked, line and sinker. If he had ever thought about ignoring his dirty little secret, there was certainly no way he could do it now. Miroku was the most enticing and kinky thing he had ever met. His erection stood strong against the fabric of his pants, the monk's strong fingers rubbing against it, egging it on, the smell of him in his nose and the feel of his hair against his cheek. “Kuza said she would do it, but I didn't expect.....” His nostrils flared as he took in a wanting breath. “Strip for me,” he said, swallowing at the mouthful of saliva that betrayed his nervous excitement.

 

Miroku stepped back, pulling away and settling his hands to the ties of his robes. The purple apron fell first, then the full black robe. Hizumeha gasp when he saw a well knotted red chest harness of silk rope tied about Miroku's body. It started from around his neck and down across his nipples tightly, then wound around his waist above the fundoshi that had been pulled over to the side. Turning, Miroku showed how the fundoshi laid over the hair of his pseudo-tail. Slowly he undid the loincloth until it fell on the floor and rubbed his ass cheeks in big wide circles, slowly bending over and spreading them apart.

 

“Oh...my...Gods,” the umayoukai said. “I've never seen anything so kinky in all my life.”

 

“Hin has not shown you her skills with rope?” Miroku asked confused. Surely the stallion knew what his women liked. He looked up at him from behind his knees.

 

“My little Hin?”

 

“Yes. The little pain slut.”

 

“Pain slut?”

 

“I can see that you know nothing about your wives.”

 

“But apparently you do.”

 

“Maybe you should submit to them sometime. Trust me, it's well worth it.”

 

Hezumeha grabbed him by the hips and thrust into his left ass cheek. “Maybe I should watch you submit to them first. They will be here any minute now.” Miroku stood up and leaned his back into the other man's chest.

 

“Maybe you should submit to me and let me show you how good it can be.” Miroku spread his ass cheeks wider, letting the uma's hard dick lay in the crack of his ass and rub against the coarse hair of the tail. In response Hezumeha ran his hands around his waist, feeling the cord under his fingers. He moved up to his chest, rubbing along there and down to Miroku's stiff member, grabbing it with both hands and enfolding it.

 

They both gave out a noise simultaneously. “I want you,” Miroku heard in his ear before he felt his lover's hungry mouth over the muscle of his neck. As easy as it was to talk about being the dominant one, it was just as easy to be taken, to be pulled hard up against his lover's hard lean body and toyed with. His nipples ached under the tightness of the chest harness and his cock throbbed in Hizumeha's hands. Even his ass wanted more than the fullness of the dildo.

 

“I want you too,” he replied, turning his head to the side, allowing the hungry mouth to plant rough kisses down his neck, across his shoulder and slowly towards the curve of his spine. “This isn't enough.”

 

Hizumeha grabbed the knot between Miroku's shoulder blades and bent him over again, bringing his other hand up between the two strong thighs. He felt the hair tickle at his forearm and he pushed for the space between his balls and where the tail was thrust in, pressing him and causing him to moan loudly. Slowly he moved his fingertips to the base of the tail and held it, pushing it deeper and evoking Miroku to moan again.

 

He pulled it out, millimeter by slow aching millimeter, watching the ring of muscle flutter from relaxing to locking down indecisively. All he could think about was replacing the tool with his own hardness and those muscles doing the same to him. When it was out he threw it to the side and licked his fingers, pushing them into the wanting ass with ease. Indeed he was looser, more prepared, able to take more, able to take him. All of him. All of his fourteen inches without the healing and pain numbing saliva he could give. This time, Miroku's ass would feel it for real. No medicines, no salves, no anesthesia. He removed his fingers and pressed his pants covered hardness against him. “I like what I see,” he encouraged.

 

Miroku ground against him, his hands now on his knees to help balance him as he bent over. He never had imagined himself such a wanton thing, begging to be taken up the ass, but here he was now, wanting to be taken and taken over, to be seduced and mesmerized by the complete and total completion this man and his women could give him. One woman could never be enough for him. He had to have more.

 

“They are here,” Hezumeha said, pushing Miroku down to the floor face first so that he was on his chest and knees, his butt high in the air. The young man gave an “oof”, but didn't say much more. The horse turned to the door and peered down the hallway that led to the stairs. “Hin. Get your pony ass up here, and bring the others with you.” Turning to Miroku, he whispered “keep your mouth shut for a moment.”

 

He sat down in his chair and with widened eyes, Miroku recognized the stance immediately. He was slouched in his chair, his leg dangled over the arm rest just like Kuza. That was where she had gotten it from and he knew then she longed to be the dominant one over the others, her husband included. She mocked him, or at least, she imitated him.

 

The three girls walked in and stood in a line after closing the door. Hina and Hiza looked confused down on their play toy, but Hin looked down right guilty.

 

Guilty because she wanted to be punished.

 

“Is this your work Hin?” Hezumeha asked lazily, pointing over to Miroku's body still pointing it's hole to the air. She nodded yes almost proudly, her little nostril flaring. “Do you think it pleases me?”

 

“I have no idea.”

 

“Does it please you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Miroku calls you pain slut. Is that true?”

 

She nodded again.

 

“Who gives you the pain you want?”

 

“Kuza and Miroku.”

 

“I see. Do you wish to be punished?”

 

“More than anything.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I don't know really. To prove that I am just as strong and as tough as you.”

 

Hizumeha grinned to himself. In less than five minutes he learned more about Hin than he had in their several months together as husband and wife. “What about you Hina? Hiza? What do you desire?” Hiza blushed and turned away shy, as did Hina.

 

“Hiza just likes sex and lots of it. Hina likes the whip.” Miroku offered.

 

“And Kuza?”

 

“She just wants to be in control,” Hin answered. “She get's off on whipping us.”

 

“Well then. I guess Miroku and I have our work cut out for us then don't we?” the horse said, standing up and rubbing his hands together. The girls gave giant smiles, the warmest, happiest smiles he had ever seen on their faces towards him. “Go on,” he said, giving them a shoo-shooing gesture. “Undress. I can't fuck you all like that.” While they merrily busied themselves with getting naked, he pulled his boy toy up and had him undress him, closing his eyes and thinking about how he was going to plan this all out, too easily distracted by the rough man's hands that pulled at his garments.