Mare Training: Warhorse Drills
M-my nipples… again… ah? C-can you… can you hear that?! My thoughts?!
What she had meant to keep as a private thought spilled straight out through one of a Military Horse's special gifts — the power of empathy.
Properly used, it was a refined skill: a warhorse could convey her every intention to her master with nothing more than a gesture or a glance. Sonia, however, had no control over the filthy fantasies welling up inside her, and they poured out unfiltered.
Her clumsy attempt at the technique ended in failure — but considering she had learned it mere minutes ago, the raw potential on display was staggering.
Just as the Horse Spirit had seen at a glance, something far beyond a D-class hero's rank lay dormant inside Sonia: an overwhelming natural talent for becoming a Military Horse. As if to encourage her, the spirit whispered in a gentle voice.
"Heh heh… Worry not, Sonia. A perfect warhorse is one thing — but art thou not still mid-training, transforming from a human body into a mare? That reaction is only natural. Do not fret. Simply surrender everything to that feeling now ruling thy body!"
The spirit's words were no mere encouragement. They sank deep into Sonia's mind like a powerful, irresistible suggestion. Surrender to that feeling.
That single phrase pulled the trigger. Sonia's body was swept away on a wave of sensation she could not resist. Twitch! Twitch! Sweet spasms raced through her from head to toe, and her shoulders trembled faintly.
Hot love juices — the herald of a female's arousal — slid down thighs that, though far from athletic by design, had been kept firm and smooth by steady activity.
Out on the vast grassland, with a modest farmhouse visible in the distance, the real training began.
"Sit, then rise again just like that!"
The Horse Spirit, dressed in a cute yet commanding uniform, barked the order. Sonia obeyed without a single question or shred of resistance.
Her thigh muscles screamed under the repeated motion, yet the pain only felt like a prelude to pleasure.
The heavy sway of her bouncing breasts, the cool air brushing her stiffly erect nipples, and the spirit's relentless gaze stripping her bare — all of it blended together into a deliciously sinful certainty that she was truly being broken in as a mare.
Nipples standing as rigid as her own excited female heart swung violently up and down, hanging from the enormous breasts that rose and fell with every squat the spirit commanded. And then, at last—
"That will do! Well done, Sonia!"
"Hah… hah…"
The moment the order to stop came down, Sonia halted where she stood, gasping for breath.
From deep inside her, a voice thick with arousal carried straight to the spirit: Y-yes… yesss…♡ Thank you…♡
This was the spirit's unique training method, handed down through generations. First, strip away the restrictive training suit the girl was wearing. Then, naked, force her to repeat the most basic of physical drills — sit, stand, sit, stand.
The timing for ending the exercise was precise. She would keep squatting until the nipples on those helplessly bouncing bare breasts finally stiffened with pleasure so hard they stopped swinging and locked firmly in place against her chest. That was the clear signal that Stage One was complete.
For now, the spirit was molding only this one chance-met blonde girl from another world with her massive bust into a female warhorse. But in the days when she had been revered as a guardian spirit, countless girls had lined up for the honor of becoming a Military Horse.
Each volunteer had her own reasons for craving the title… and the spirit possessed a thoroughly scientific method, refined over long experience, for sorting the wheat from the chaff among them.
The first essential quality of a warhorse to evaluate was inexhaustible stamina. And the most effective way to measure it was this simple sit-and-stand exercise.
(Luce used to do something like this in her games sometimes… teabagging, I think she called it? Even if it wasn't Luce, there was someone who liked games… not a friend, exactly… just someone I knew. I wonder how they're doing…)
Sonia, who had once complained that even climbing Sky City's little hills was too much trouble, possessed physical ability that far outstripped the standard for a D-class hero.
No matter how many times the seemingly pointless stamina test repeated, she showed not the slightest sign of fatigue. Against her own will, the only things that changed were those lewd nipples — whipping through the air as her breasts bounced — until they hardened like stone and stopped swinging altogether.
The Horse Spirit herself declared it "a truly magnificent evaluation test!", and with good reason: this simple sit-and-stand drill could assess several critical factors at once.
After stamina came the next measure — those lewd nipples that, unable to endure the constant stimulation of her swinging breasts, had gone fully erect!
Military Horse suitability, second evaluation criterion: innate heat disposition!
(A proper female warhorse has a duty to serve and protect her master with dignity. Physical protection alone is not enough — reading her master's heart and tending to it as well: that is what makes a first-class Military Horse!)
Cultural differences or not, Sonia already knew everything there was to know about Sky City's back alleys — the servant training centers and slave conditioning houses where perfectly ordinary women were bound tight and broken into lewd cows or bitches.
Through that lens, the word "Military Horse" could only land with a thoroughly perverted meaning.
(…Wearing something like armor… arms bound behind her back… like a knight… or something…? Tying her up like a horse… um… is that this world's culture…?)
Whether the spirit knew of Sonia's filthy thoughts or not, she was lost deep in her own romantic vision.
On the battlefield, a proud warhorse; in her master's bedchamber, a shy little mare… that was the ideal Military Horse the spirit imagined. No horse could satisfy every demand of the master she served, of course — but after bodyguarding and combat ability, the next indispensable quality was a spirit of service.
A horse whose nipples never poked out no matter how much her breasts were shaken was fit only for battle. She could never become a true Military Horse in the fullest sense — one who served her master!
Wanting to make Sonia into a perfect warhorse, the spirit had at first watched her nipples with anxious eyes.
The worry did not last long. After barely three sit-and-stands, she saw those nipples already stiff and hard despite the violent bouncing of Sonia's breasts, and she nodded in relief.
Then came the third and final evaluation item of the sit-and-stand test — confirming what she had called the second essential quality of a warhorse: the proper mindset.
(That's right! When I deliberately remove the restrictive suit, I also carefully take away the gag that seals her mouth — so carefully she barely notices… If it is hard, panting is human nature! But if she is resolved to train as a Military Horse, then clamping that human mouth shut and enduring the pain is the very mark of a warhorse ready for duty!)
While stripping the training suit to check whether her nipples responded to sexual sensation, the spirit also casually removed the mare's gag. It was a cunning test — to see whether the girl under training possessed the self-awareness of a Military Horse, and whether her resolve was sufficient.
"…!" "…!" "…!"
"Ohh… Truly remarkable… Sonia…"
A wondrous sight unfolded before the spirit's eyes. Faint cords of light stretched from Sonia's wrists and tied themselves into a firm knot behind her back of their own accord.
It was neither magic nor curse. It was a bond of the heart — stronger and tougher than any chain of iron — forged solely by Sonia's own fierce desire to submit.
M-me? Uh… th-thank you so much… Spirit…♡
Even when ordered to sit and stand again, Sonia showed no sign of struggle. If anything, she moved with exaggerated flair, as if deliberately putting her flushed breasts on fuller display.
Rather than spit out human speech at the spirit's idle murmur, she thrust her chest out even farther and used the Military Horse technique of transmitting thought. This female candidate from another world was surpassing the spirit's expectations by a vast margin.
Wrists gathered behind her waist of her own will, as if she meant to stand on forelegs alone — no one had bound her. Chest proudly presented, beginning to savor the breeze against bare skin. Watching Sonia, the spirit felt a deep, inexpressible emotion well up inside her — soft and yielding…!