Mare Conditioning: Military Horse Training
‘Phhew… hoo… pfhew…’
The one who had just lived through what might well be a once-in-a-lifetime stroke of fortune lay sprawled face-down on the ground, her breasts cushioning her against the dirt, sunk deep into sleep—her soul still ringing from the sensation of being read, and her body wrecked by the savage aftershock of climax after climax.
Seeing her dead to the world, the Horse Spirit judged that the aftereffects of pleasure had at last run their course. She looked down on Sonia with the proud satisfaction of a smith appraising a finely tempered blade.
“The technique a military horse must of course possess… the kick, that is… Heh heh… Truly a body made for a warhorse, Sonia… How much further thou might grow is something I look forward to—ah! Hyaah… hup!”
With a dull pong!, a black mass materialized out of thin air and dropped onto the sleeping Sonia.
A skin-tight black leotard, a red ball gag to seal the mouth, and a black blindfold that blotted out the eyes completely. It was clearly not what the spirit had wanted. Her voice jumped in flustered alarm.
“Hah? Th-this is not it… Again… again! …Haaahp…!”
Pong! This time, several translucent magical hands—Magic Hands—appeared in the air.
Convenient auxiliary magic that existed only from the forearm down, Magic Hands were, in the Sky City where Sonia lived, most often put to illegal use: binding a subject tight and fondling them without pause for training. Of course they also served Academy students as note-taking aids—but with Sonia limp on the ground before her, the spirit’s intent in summoning them now was unmistakable.
“Lift Sonia up! Carry her carefully to the stable!”
Still asleep with her breasts crushed into the earth like cushions, Sonia was gently gathered up by the Magic Hands and raised horizontal, her chest kept facing the ground.
Squish…!
Bobbing lightly… held aloft by nothing but forearm-length Magic Hands, Sonia was borne toward the stable like some expensive beast being moved to the slaughterhouse.
The Horse Spirit settled lightly atop Sonia’s bare, luscious rear. She patted the seat she had claimed and let out a sigh of pure satisfaction. “The feel of thee is truly splendid, Sonia!”
Time passed. Sonia came to on a soft heap of hay in the stable. The dry bite of straw and the smell of animal droppings stabbed at her nose; unfamiliar wooden partitions closed her in. This was unmistakably a place meant for livestock, not people.
At first a wave of distaste rose in her—then, to her own confusion, a strange sense of ease. The body that had been seeded with the identity of a mare had begun to accept this place as its home.
(…So if I train ridiculously hard here and then leave, I’ll get insanely strong… right?)
The thought flickered only a moment before Sonia shook her head. If she had ever possessed the will to train, she would never have ended up a technical D-class hero stuck with desk work and facility inspections.
Given a mental resistance so fatally low it had once registered in the negatives, simply going along with whatever happened was wiser than grinding through harsh training.
(…Training is… kind of… yeah, no…)
Knowing her own lazy nature better than anyone, the D-class hero cleanly erased the “train and get stronger” plan from her mind.
“Thy Day Two login bonus, it is! Accept it with gratitude… Mm… thy hands are bound, so I shall feed it to thee!”
The spirit had appeared without warning. A Magic Hand presented today’s login bonus—a single carrot—before Sonia’s mouth. On the floating login-bonus screen, there was nothing but carrots. Every seventh day showed two; on the final thirtieth day, a rainbow carrot gleamed.
“A carrot… huh. Yesterday was the Carrot of Strength… today the Carrot of Endurance… Ahaha… ha… haah…”
“Ahem! Just so! ’Twould be well to gratefully take the login bonus into thy body!”
Crunch… crunch…!
Sonia chewed the carrot as it was given. Crisp texture, sweet juice bursting over her tongue, and a tide of mana spreading through her whole body. While the mare enjoyed her meal, the spirit began to lay out the training schedule ahead.
“From here on, for one month, thou shalt train first as a mare! Only thereafter as a military horse! Every single moment—each and every one!—do not let thy guard down; concentrate…”
And for that, she added, Sonia would have to don the training gear again and have her posture corrected.
“The shackles of a female horse… Restraint, in essence, is for binding an uncontrolled beast. A finished military horse has no need of bonds, of course… but as yet, Sonia, thou art nothing more than one inferior, incomplete female horse!”
“A… a female… femaaale… nn…♡”
First teach the posture and conduct of a mare until Sonia’s body accepted them as natural—only then could true military-horse training begin. That was the spirit’s plan.
At the declaration, Sonia’s chest fluttered hard—but it was not the awe the spirit had intended. It was a thoroughly indecent tremor of another kind entirely.
“…Therefore, from this moment, thou shalt not speak human speech… and by ‘speech’ I mean the sounds that leave thy mouth! Heh heh… is it not amusing?!”
Crack!
As Sonia looked up at the floating spirit with a look of pure disbelief, a sharp report split the air and a searing heat burst across her thigh as if the flesh itself had split open.
(…? Ah… that hurts?!)
A vivid red welt left by the mare-training whip. More than the pain itself, what made Sonia shudder was the reflexive pleasure and the surge of submission the pain dragged up with it. With that single stroke, Sonia instinctively understood that every last scrap of resistance between “human Sonia” and “the mare” was meaningless.
Another sharp crack rang out.
A dark-crimson leather whip slammed across Sonia’s smooth, springy thigh and in an instant branded a vivid blood-red mark into the skin.
It was no mere instrument of pain. The tip had been deliberately made broad and flat, specialized not for tearing flesh but for leaving a humiliating, indelible brand—a tool purpose-built for military-horse conditioning.
That distinctive mark bloomed scarlet across Sonia’s eye-white skin as if a red-hot iron had been pressed there.
“Nngh…”
A stifled moan forced its way past Sonia’s lips.
It was not a simple sound of pain. It was closer to the first cry of an untamed wild mare—shock, sudden agony, and a strange excitement that prickled all the way into the brain, all tangled together.
“Eheh! To a dull-witted mare who cannot grasp my refined and profound sense of humor, I shall make plain what punishment is! Learn with that base body of thine that this training is by no means easy!”
The little Horse Spirit floating in the air was far smaller than the whip that had just struck Sonia’s thigh. But the voice that issued from that tiny frame was more than enough to rule the space.
A translucent Magic Hand, acting on the spirit’s will, adjusted its grip on the leather whip. A moment later it struck again—same place, the spot still burning red from the last blow—with just a fraction more force behind it.
Crack…!
“Hieeung…?!”
This time the sound that burst out was unmistakably laced with pleasure, nearly a scream of ecstasy. Sonia’s body jerked as if in a fit; the well-toned muscle of her thigh locked hard as stone for an instant. Already her flesh was taking the first step of converting pain into pleasure.
‘Cease human speech at once!’
At the spirit’s contemptuous gesture, the Magic Hand fixed precisely on its next target.
Toward Sonia’s full, massive rear, without a shred of hesitation, the whip once more split the air.
“Hngh… nn…”
Over the jet-black, sleek restraint suit, another red whip-mark was carved in clear relief.
Even under the successive blows, Sonia no longer screamed. She only bit down hard on her plump lower lip and endured in silence—the fire racing over her skin, and with it the sweet humiliation seeping into her bones.
At Sonia’s obedient display, the Horse Spirit gave a light, thoroughly satisfied thumbs-up. Excellent stock. The potential to be broken in was plain to see.
“Very good! Sonia! For the month ahead, thou shalt first receive training as a lowly mare, and at last as a great military horse… Bear this well in mind. For the duration of this training, think of thyself only as a mare—and as a military horse!”
The spirit began to explain the first stage on the path to becoming a great military horse: the Rules of the Mare.
Had Sonia ever once watched a video tagged “ponygirl” or “livestock training” on one of Sky City’s baser adult sites, she might have grasped what was coming a little more easily…
But all Sonia knew how to do was roll filthy fantasies around inside her own head.
And so, leaning on nothing but her meager experience and imagination, she had no choice but to desperately accept the unreal situation unfolding before her eyes.