Commission for FriesianSteed

Picture done for FriesianSteed from FA and an amazing story to make it juicier written by FriesianSteed himself ^_^

On the 11th is his Bday and that was a gift he gifted himself on that special day ^_^

All the best and may scenarios like this happen to you irl, happy birthday!! :) 

THE BRIDDLE OF WHISPERS by FriesianSteed

The sound of her small, perfectly groomed hooves sounded down the hall, as the mare walked down the long corridor towards one of the many dungeons of the “Secret Society” club. The club itself was much more than a meeting place for enthusiasts of BDSM and a private space to enjoy their lavish life and other pleasantries.

As she walked towards the big, leather-padded door at the end of the hallway, she perked her ears to the muffled sounds coming from behind all the other doors along her way. Sounds of pleasure. Sounds of suffering. Sometimes both of those, in an enticing mixture of bliss and torment of whoever enjoyed their time behind those closed doors.

Quillu was a part of the club for years now. The long maze of hallways and staircases going deep underground of the seemingly small building held no secret to her at this point. She has spent months down there, sometimes for a couple hours long during a single session.

This time though, it was different. Her usual position was that of a submissive. A precious pony-girl, a high-class slave or a victim during some intricate, perverse scenario brought up by one of the other club members. At this time she was offered an opportunity to find herself on “the other end of the leash”, so to say. Reluctant at first, unsure a little bit later and eventually she became genuinely intrigued.

Dominating wasn’t her natural comfort zone. Throwing demands, forcefully handling someone, sexually abusing and above all else inflicting pain onto someone - those were things that she never truly delved into nor fully committed to doing in a BDSM situation.

It just wasn’t in her nature. The moment when she helped someone get into his or her bondage gear and restraints, she felt excited just by thinking of being in their place there and now. The bonds looked so perfectly tight and exposing. Making the victim this much more vulnerable and at the mercy of whoever got his hands on that poor guy or girl.

But not tonight. That night, she agreed to try something else. The bridle that she carried in her hand as she walked towards her designated playroom was meant to be a big part of it.

“Oh, you’re gonna love it. The way it boosts confidence and makes you look so much more strict. A proper headgear makes all the difference.” she recalled the words of her Club friends and the moment that she was given this peculiar, intricate piece of gear.

How would a simple bridle make anyone feel more dominant? - she asked herself in her thoughts. Bridles were meant to control equines. For anthros - wearing one was just as humiliating and demeaning as a muzzle would be for a canine. She didn’t quite get it yet, but now as she stood in front of the door leading towards her playroom, she took a deep breath and pulled the metal-and-leather contraption over her horn and began to fasten it around her groomed muzzle.

The bridle fit like a glove. The cut-out in the top metal shell slipped down to the base of her horn with ease, but it didn’t lodge itself too tightly either. The fastening straps had only one locking hole each. All of them positioned just perfectly to pull the straps firmly tight and comfortable. The metal was cool to the touch, but not surprisingly so. All was in place, so she could finally push the door open to see her play partner for today.

Yet as soon as she reached towards the door handle, a voice silent and discreet began to reach her ears.

“It will be interesting…”

The words were spoken with her own voice. Was it her own thought surfacing, right now, as she was about to experience something new and so much different from what she did until now? Quillu pulled her hand back in hesitation. She was told that her playpartner will be delivered to her and prepared beforehand. She didn’t have to think about the preparations. Courtesy of the club, in return for her long-lasting membership of the club and a reward for all the times when she served others and submitted to other people’s naughty needs and passions.

She didn’t know who would be her victim. She wasn’t told much about his or her gender, appearance, personality. This was the second and final condition that she was given for tonight’s session, besides wearing the bridle that she was given. Her personal toy was meant to be a total mystery. Quillu had no idea whether it would be a friend, one of her previous dominants and masters, or a total stranger that she had never met before. It was a part of the bargain - she was meant to disregard her emotion and be dominant, no matter who it would be. It could have been her mate, Kaeldu as well.

“It’s so exciting… and enticing…”

Again, she heard her own voice deep down her thoughts. Quillu turned her head abruptly to the side, where a big vintage mirror adorned the wall. She looked at herself and into her own eyes. There was a gleam in them. The same that her dominants saw, when she was being tied and trained. A spark of desire, with a pinch of fear before the unknown. That bright glow of her eyes reflected the blue tint of light from the textile wall coverings.

“What are you waiting for? Don’t make him wait, silly~”

That was true. She probably already delayed enough. But did she really hope for her partner to be a male? Just why did she think of a guy, not a girl? She had no idea who’s sitting there after all. Did she hope to have a go with a male? The club probably considered her preferences and her equine race. It would not be a surprise at all if he appears to be a stallion. Did it really matter?

She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her eyes were greeted with the sight of a stallion. Already bound and ready. He lifted his head as he heard the door opening and looked at her with those deep green eyes.

Green eyes, huh? It clearly wasn’t someone she met before. Not at the club by the very least.

“Wonderful… a stud. A big one at that. So powerless against the metal of his shackles…”

She stood there in silence for a moment. Her mind full of thoughts as she examined her partner and the way he was presented to her. He moved in his bondage, making the restraints fill the chamber of his dungeon with faint sounds of stretching latex, clattering metal of the cuffs and quiet clicking of his hooves against the hard, stone floor. The stallion tested the restraints, seeing as she explored his mostly naked form with her eyes from ears to hooves. He followed her with his eyes and head as she circled around in front of him, slowly walking past the nearby tables and shelves full of toys and various gadgets.

His eyes opened wider suddenly, darting between Quillu’s face and hands. What did he just notice? She circled him in a steady rhythm of her hooves clicking against the floor. Her hands fiddled with the thin and stiff caning stick as she walked around him without taking her eyes off his body and naked form. She didn’t even notice the item she held in her hands, until it snapped against the exposed part of the stallion’s chest. The sudden sound of the snap and the groan that came from under the stud’s ballgag momentarily brought her back to her senses.

“Just what was that? How did it end up in her hands? When and how did she grab it?” Quillu froze in place, trying her best to recreate the events of the last minute in her head. Her stallion slave was sitting there, looking at her with curious eyes. He didn’t understand those sudden changes in her character either. She was alternating between shy, skittish movements of a first time dominant and those of an experienced femdom.

Yet the reddening mark across his skin that began to appear from beneath his short fur was proof enough that the hit was harder than she would deal out of her own will. The stallion held his head high and proud despite that. He wasn’t a wimp afraid of the whip or some discomfort. Quillu knew that the club would never kidnap or hold someone into shackles against their will. That stud must have wanted that or at least had some curiosity like her. Perhaps he was a dominant by heart, who wanted to taste the sensations of a submissive for once? Just like her tonight. Who knows whether he had used her at some point before? She often served as a submissive while wearing a blindfold for the whole ordeal. There were dominants that requested that and she never refused that tiny bit of spice added to the fun. Maybe he recognized her from one of the previous sessions, when he made her submit by the whip, cuffs and forced her to enjoy sex in any way he liked.

Possibilities were many. She could delve into those thoughts much longer, but then she heard it again.

“He craves for more. Don’t you see? Look at those eyes, so pure and eager. Hit him again. Stronger… and aim true. Show him that’ you’re here to fulfil his fantasies of slavery.”

Quillu looked at the caning stick and winded up lightly. “Should I? Really? Won’t he hate me? He sees my face. Won’t he hold a grudge against me? What if-”

The whisper in her head answered again, this time more directly and the mare felt like it feels much more like a conversation than an odd voice at the back of her head.

“Don’t you want to make his dreams come true? He would not be there if he didn’t want it. Right? Go on… Just test him. Check how he reacts. His body will tell you all you need to know.”

The voice was right. Everyone had their body cues. The stares, the tone of the sounds one makes even through the gag. It all had a meaning in BDSM. And she wasn’t a newbie. She knew all those signs damn well from her countless sessions.

She winded up and struck again. The stick snapped against the stallion’s exposed chest muscle. He didn’t even flinch. Didn’t budge at all when the caning toy left a pink line across his skin under the fur. She hit again… and again, until there were a couple of marks adorning her stallion’s chest.

When the cane reached the lower muscle of his stomach, he did squint his eyes and let out some sounds. But those were so quiet and pleasant. Like a soft, muffled moan of someone who’s being fondled and caressed. She looked to his eyes and saw this absolute calm. It was not enough. He wanted more.

Quillu looked down her toy-stud’s groin and saw how between his legs the chastity cage shun in the dim light. Polished steel, so tight and humiliating for a proud stallion that he was. She could not fully imagine how tight it must have felt, to be cramped up in such a small space given a big body like his. His muscles all tensed and danced by each hit of the caning stick. The metal bindings clattered loudly when he yanked on them, and she kept on caning his body.

Then her hand stopped and the only sounds that still filled the cool air of the dungeon were deep and swift breaths of the black equine slave and the silent clicking of the chains.

“What’s the hold up, my brave mare? Touch him. We both know you want to.”

She knelt besides him and did just that. Her hands went to stroke his arms and thighs, tracing the lines that her caning stick left on his fur and reddening skin. To Quillu’s surprise, her hand and fingers didn’t stop there. Her palm traced down his chest and sides, over his inner thighs and eventually slipped down across his chastity cage.

Slim, gloved hand of the mare moved further down and gripped. Hard and with confidence, that made the stallion shudder and cease his attempts to avoid her touch.

“Harder… Squeeze and pull. Feel the tender resistance they give  against your grip. Enjoy it~”

Her hand moved on it’s own and her eyes now radiated a bright tint of blue like the glaciers of the northern seas. Same glow that adorned the tip of her horn trapped in the mask’s forehead plate.

“Yes, I can feel it.” She thought to herself with a growing smirk of joy drawing onto her muzzle, as her mind was no longer filled with worries and uncertainty. “He moans so beautifully. Is he mine alone?”

“All yours. But only tonight. You won’t let this chance go to waste, right?”

The young mare stood back up with confidence and pride showing through her posture, her head lifted high up and her legs standing sure and firmly onto the floor.

“What are you gonna do now?...”

“I’m gonna enjoy it!” She declared loudly, getting the stallion’s ears to perk up.

She pushed her breasts out forward and arched her back so her rear gained a wholly new and much more desirable angle. Her leg went up and rested onto the stallion’s shoulder when she leaned in to speak to him directly, keeping her mouth close to his ear.

“...and you are going to behave well, or I’ll weld that cage shut on you for good.”

By those words, being a mix of the mare’s soft and pleasant voice and some eldritch abyssal whisper, the stallion laid his ears back and pushed his head forward. The furthest his bondage allowed him to, just to nudge and nuzzle her lifted leg from the inner side as a sign of submission.

He didn’t object no more when she took the riding crop and chastity cage key off the table. He didn’t dare defy her, when she gave him a warning in the form of a not-so-soft tap of the riding crop across his defenseless balls, before removing the metal shell from his sheath.

The sound of relief, that he let out as he felt the cold air finally engulfing his rapidly growing length, got silenced when he felt how his mistress drove his cocktip through a hard and cold metal loop connected to the floor by a short strap.

“You’re such an eye-candy, stud. We are going to have so… much… fun…”

The touch of the leather patch atop the crop, sliding along his now hard cock’s length was but only a prelude to the events of that night. He could not stop her, nor escape any of it. Each time that she touched, used and abused him in each and every creative way that the bridle suggested, Quillu felt her inhibitions being stripped little by little. There was so much to explore for someone who rarely was in charge.

Minutes and hours seemingly slipped away through her fingers like smooth and dry sand. She didn’t keep track of it either, as there was no need to rush when they both enjoyed themselves in their respective roles.

At the time, when she picked a lit candle and painted yet another red stream of wax onto his exposed chest, she looked at him again. She pulled his chin up with the shaft of the crop and made him look into her eyes.

“You’ve been a wonderful toy to me… But there’s still fire in your eyes, right?”

She asked quietly, with a motherly yet stern tone of her voice. The tip of the crop then pressed onto the side of stallion’s face and pointed him forward, so he could see the candle burning and the hot wax pooling up on top of it, ready to be spilled. She held it over his tied stallionhood and stirred the gathered up liquid wax by rolling the candle around in her hand.

“Keep quiet through this part of our fun and I’ll find your mouth a better use than sucking onto that rubber ball~”

Stallion looked up to her and took a deep breath, closing his eyes tightly shut.

“Here goes~”