GINGER

Richard McDowell considered himself fairly normal. He was a 20-year old man, living on a farm. He had a younger brother and sister at 19 and 18 respectively; and a mother in her early 40s (she had had divorce Richard’s father when he was only 15). His father had owned a number of mares which he raised and sold to be breeding horses, and his mother continued the practice.
Richard knew many of the mares by heart: Penny, Bertha, Rose, etc. He had taken care of many of the more “distinctive” ones: Penny, who was extremely shy; Rose, too wild around outsiders; Bertha, who had to be “under-fed” or else she would gain weight at an alarming rate, and so forth. He loved them, and they returned his affection in equal measure. He didn’t mind cleaning up after them, in spite of how much poop and pee the mares created. And they left a lot of it: very large and extremely potent yellowish-brown logs of dung as well as ripe pools of urine. The urine would just linger on the ground, taking forever to slowly disappear into the ground. It was like a perverse parody of water: lightish yellow liquid that gave off a very strong smell indeed. Their logs looked like oversized Tootsie Rolls somewhat, yellowish-dark brown and very hot and moist.
Everywhere he saw their waste amongst the hay, large masses of yellowish-brown and black waste, and the air was ripe with the aroma of their poop, astonishing in their olfactory power. The smell seemed to hang in the stable like a thick haze. Every day, he saw the mares lift their tails exposing their anuses, fart loudly and strain noisily. They would do this constantly, especially after being fed. Then the dumping would begin in earnest. Richard watched as their assholes creaked and crackled loudly releasing a faint odor somewhat earthy into the air and puckered outwards, the mares’ massive anal muscles parting as their turds pressed against their butts. He could see their assholes inflate slightly outwards visibly, their anuses opening releasing the inner smell from their bowels, the mighty muscles moving aside slickly to expose briefly a deep black hole before a large yellowish-brown mass began to move outwards from it. The enormous steamy logs sliding slowly outwards till they landed with a plop or two on the ground. As soon as the shit was exposed to the air, it gave off an astonishingly strong smell that Richard couldn’t help but notice: rich and ripe and earthy. The aroma was like that of fall leaves mixed with a faint trace of spice. It was the smell of these mares most private areas, their most animal scent And it was very potent. The smell seemed to ensnare his nostrils and possess his lungs every time. But he had never seen in them in a sexual light, even when they were in heat. Occasionally stallions would be brought in to breed the mares and he would watch their lovemaking ensue. Only recently, when he was 19 had Richard payed any real attention to the spectacles of the horses copulating. The stallions would wildly bang the mares from behind before blowing their loads inside them. Richard had to admit that recently watching the horses in this activity made him feel funny, though he shook it off. Sure the mares farted, defecated, and urinated a lot and he enjoyed the smells as they were pleasant in their own way once he had gotten used to them, but they were still mares. Then everything changed.
It happened when his mother acquired a new mare. Her name was Ginger, and she was different from all the mares he had ever met. He didn’t know why or how, but there was something about her that made him feel…different. Ginger was an adult mare, with beautiful deep brown skin and reddish-brown trim. Somewhat obese but still powerful, her form was sleek and angelic. Her fat made her more attractive not less. The female horse was a strange mix of fitness and flab, but the combination worked: the fat complimented her body, rounding and softening it. Ginger wore her weight extremely well, as she had considerable muscle hidden underneath her flab, and did not lose or gain any noticeable pounds. Most of the fat went to her thighs, belly, and rump. Her belly was quite rotund and swollen and sagging with fat, its sensuality almost daring to be touched. Her ass appeared inflated, due to all the lard within it. Her thighs were equally plump. Ginger was also extremely flatulent, lifting her tail constantly to pass gas as well as to piss and shit. Her long potent farts heated the air around her hindquarters. She left behind one dung pile after another, streams of stinky liquid constantly flowing from her pussy onto the hay.
From the start Ginger was aggressive and defiant. She refused to be tamed. In spite of everything Richard did, she would not listen. When she was unhappy, she would fart into his face or suddenly defecate onto a spot he had just cleaned. Ginger in fact wanted him to do things for her, he, her owner no less. The mare he owned was de factor ordering him around, and she was unusually strong by his standards. She simply could not be held down. As a result, he found himself having to compromise with Ginger quite often. She would usually listen, provided he gave her plenty of food and care such as being bathed constantly. The plump mare also wanted a lot of attention and company, so he spent more time than he usually did with his mares. She pooped and peed a lot, so he had to work that much harder to clean everything up.

Ginger was unusual in that regard, the sheer amount of dung and urine she produced. She was quite gluttonous, devouring enormous helpings of horse feed. She would eat and eat and eat, her teeth grinding up the food while her throat swallowed it down. In some ways she was more like a pig than a horse. Then she’d strut around awkwardly with a belly most bloated outwards indeed. After a full meal her belly would be massively bloated with food which Ginger carried around like a ton of bricks. Her belly was truly impressive once she was done, she actually had to lie on her side when she was on a full stomach. Every step sent that big belly jiggling about. Afterwards she was farting on a regular basis as her digestive system often churned out tons of mare butt gas. Ginger seemed to fart all the time. Mare farts are much stronger than those of a human female, as Richard himself knew quite well. He had inadvertently inhaled both species’ farts before and he knew that mare gas was extremely potent making him gag throughout almost all of his life. He’d only overcome the smell recently. The plump Ginger pooped out logs as if her ass was a shit assembly plant, leaving pile after pile for him to clean up.
A large amount of that time was at night, with her and him alone in the candlelight of the stables. He didn’t really mind, he would relax on the hay usually reading literature. Ginger would always be fairly close to him, her plump body often only a few feet away. The air was full of the smells and sounds of Ginger’s stinky (but not at all unpleasant) farts, poop, and pee. Sometimes he would do this in nothing but his underwear, since he knew he was all alone anyway. “And why shouldn’t I?” he thought. In the privacy of the barn, he often found time to masturbate to fairly traditional pornography (he had stumbled onto one of his father’s old stashes about a year ago). The temperature had gone up during the time Ginger had arrived; he was constantly feeling either hot or cold. Though he brushed it off, he couldn’t help but notice the air seemed much more heated around Ginger. “Aroused by a mare? Absurd!” Richard scoffed in his mind. But somewhere in the back of his mind he feared it was true.

As days past, Ginger became more manageable. She seemed calmer and more affectionate, though he concluded his methods were finally achieving results. Even cleaning up her dung and urine was easier. What Richard failed to seriously notice was how often she was sweating and panting around him, and that she farted constantly around him. “She just needs a stallion, she’s in heat. Perfectly normal.” Richard said looking at her moving about anxiously in her stall. Soon, however, Ginger became more demanding…always wanting his attention. His care. Sometimes she even woke him up at night with her whinny neighs, and he would have to go see her in haste wearing only his underwear. He always figured it would be a waste of time to put on the rest of his clothes, since the night visits never lasted very long.
On this night, he was more annoyed than usual: “What the hell do you want Ginger? I’ve been seeing to your every need.” Richard was frustrated, opening the door to the fat mare’s stall. “I’m going back to sleep. I’ve given you everything you desire already.” The tired Richard literally collapsed not far from where Ginger was, he was simply too exhausted to care where he slept. For a while, Ginger did nothing. She paused, and then farted explosively flooding the air with her butt gas. Then she very tentatively went over to the sleeping male human, lying face down. She admired the strange animal that had taken care of her for a few weeks now. Ginger had seen other members of this strange breed of creature: walking exclusively on their hind legs, largely hairless, tailless, very different. Yet they took care of her and others like her, although they oddly refused her advances to mate. She had tried on a number of occasions to get one of them to mount her, but to no avail.
Ginger had concluded that they must be related somehow, very distant kin playing hard-to-get. And she had feelings for many of these odd life-forms, even sexual ones. In this case, the urges were quite strong. Ginger needed to be bred by this unusual male, she desired release, she needed a mate, and she sought offspring to continue the species. The mare had chosen Richard to be her lover and mate. She was going to have this strange beast, to feel him deep inside her body and his seed flooding her womb.

The brown female horse bent over, her belly fat jiggling, and pressed her nose directly against where Richard’s balls were. Ginger was surprised by their size and texture and wanted to inspect him further, but the underwear was in the way. Ginger despised these strange coverings, so unnecessary. Her snout wandered upwards, and she pushed her nose into the human’s ass. She took several deep whiffs, inhaling the smell of the beast’s crack…so different from a stallion’s scent. The pale animal did not wake up, much to the mare’s annoyance. The mare turned him over with her head and neck, causing the creature to fall over, and now Ginger got a good look at the attractive creature before her. He was thin but still strong, in reasonably good health, he was an excellent choice for a mate. The obese horse licked Richard’s face and neck causing him to groan softly. As she bathed his neck in warm saliva with her hot wet tongue, he mumbled almost unintelligibly in his sleep, “Damn it kiss me don’t lick me woman…”.
She continued to taste the odd animal’s salt and sweat, which both baffled and excited her due to its strangeness. Ginger just slurped it all up, her rough tongue flushing the hairless male’s skin. Richard did not taste or smell anything like a stallion, yet he turned her on all the same. She had never been so aroused before, her cunt juices were flowing freely onto the hay. Ginger knew she was deeply in heat. Finally Ginger turned and looked down at the male’s penis, which was fully erect albeit hidden by the bizarre covering the creatures seemed obsessed with. She tugged at it, her teeth clamped down on it, very slowly pulling it off until it was down to Richard’s knees. Now there was nothing to prevent her from seeing if he truly was interested in her, she had sensed his constant arousal but it was always subtle. It didn’t really matter though, Ginger was sure she could get him.
The plump mare looked at her mate-to-be’s genitals. Ginger examined the sheer strangeness of the beast’s penis, not very much like the stallions she had met at all. She noted that the erection was small compared to a stallion’s but again the differences aroused her. Plus it seemed fully functional, more than enough to breed her. Seeking out and being drawn to distinctiveness in potential mates was a habit of hers. Ginger stopped, her ass felt inflated again like a balloon. The mare’s bowels were definitely bloated at the entrance alright. She needed to fart and the obese mare snorted in relief as her rump exploded, her ample butt-cheeks vibrating violently as the gas escaped her butt. Richard remained oblivious to what was going on. His mind vaguely sensed that he was being stimulated and that there was flatulence in the air but interpreted it as being part of a dream.
Ginger could no longer hold back, she had to take him into her mouth. First though, she went slow. She tentatively licked his cock-head, watching the now slightly wet object bob about slightly. Richard groaned softly but didn’t wake up. Ginger paused, then resumed. She licked his cock-head again, watching the foreskin peel back. Another lick followed, this time right on the exposed head. A quite audible moan erupted from Richard’s mouth. Ginger was pleased and lapped away at her future mate’s cock, delighting in his soft moans and cries. She took her time, Ginger didn’t want to wake him up just yet. She noticed the pre-cum starting to seep out of the strange animal’s piss-slit. Ginger lapped up it, found she liked the taste, and licked at Richard’s slit to get more flowing. She watched as the human’s cock lengthened and thickened before her. Ginger noted the creature’s pre-cum was really flowing now, seeping down his shaft and onto his balls. Now she focused on the underside of the human’s penis and its balls, feeling them grow larger and larger under her assault. Yet the human did not wake up, much to her annoyance. Then a strange idea hit her.
Ginger turned her ass around, raised her tail, and began to push out a large log of poop. One of her largest yet in fact. It slowly crackled out, her asshole straining and contracting hard, until the dung finally landed right on Richard’s cock. Ginger looked at her work with satisfaction, having scored a direct hit.