He had an appointment with the stable master for a pony. He giggled a little. This wasn’t any ordinary horse, this was a man who lived as if he were a horse. Prax’s father had sent him to the Velvet Glove from their principality on another planet. To learn about sex. To fulfill that area of his training. They had been very nice here, even the stern Mal who was to teach him how to dominate his sexual partners had been patient, which he appreciated -- he’d seen how Mal was with most of the people he interacted with. Nothing had really taken him though until two days previous when a man had come into the dinning salle with two boys on leashes, two puppies. And Prax had learned that there was a whole stable of men who were ponies. Prax could remember being a boy, his bodyguard on all fours, carrying him around, giving him pony rides. He could remember growing older and indulging now and then in the practice until the day, when he was thirteen, that he had become hard, the sensation of Rodderick’s muscled back beneath his balls, rubbing his cock if he leaned forward, turning him on.
