Chapter Text
Uma Musume. Inheriting the names and spirits of horses from another world, they are born to run. Pouring their sweat on sunlit grass, hiding their tears under the rain, giving it their all to sprint faster than the mud at their feet will allow… Embracing their victories with a smile, chewing on their losses with gritted teeth… This is their fate.
However, this world is somewhat different.
These are the stories of the everyday vicissitudes of these girls who sport the ears and tails of horses… along with some other significant attributes.
***
To Kitasan Black, the days before the Arima Kinen felt distant like a dream. A vivid one, at least compared to those that had come after her last race. Had it not been for the sun and moon switching places at regular intervals, she would have had a hard time telling time was passing at all.
Above all else, Kitasan couldn’t have predicted that freedom, which the end of her career had granted her in spades, could feel so overwhelmingly suffocating. So disorienting. The conclusion of the Arima Kinen had marked a new beginning – but of what, exactly? She had triumphantly sprinted out of the starting gate towards a new phase of her life, only to realize that there was no clear-cut track beneath her feet. Her new turf was a vast, grassy hill full of possibilities… yet, all she could see was its confounding emptiness.
Still, she had given it her all and put a more than satisfying lid on her running history. There were no regrets left behind to feel sad about, but no exciting summits to overcome in front of her either. She was stuck, plain and simple. Or so had been the case anyway, up until around a week ago.
“Hah… hah…”
Within the solitude of the room she shared with her childhood friend, on an evening not quite like any other, Kitasan’s labored breaths sounded louder than the springs creaking under her mattress. Their squeaks followed a rapid, powerful tempo dictated by her hips; these, in turn, moved in tandem with the heart pounding inside her chest. They were trying, at the very least. Ridiculous though the thought sounded in her dazed mind, she couldn’t remember ever having felt such fast palpitations from even her most intense races.
“Mnh… Di…a…!”
She regretted whispering her friend’s name the moment it left her drooling mouth. Instinctively, her eyes searched the door across from the bed for any sign it might open then and there. That would have been bad. Worse than bad. Perhaps even more so than a career-ending injury or an epidemic of carrot-devouring bacteria.
Her thoughts weren’t making a whole lot of sense. Then again, what about what she was doing made any? Her fingers tightened their grip on the bunched up sheets. A mounting sense of guilt threatened to make her stop: she would have embraced it wholeheartedly, had she possessed the fortitude to do so. If another, stronger sensation hadn’t already depleted her common sense and set loose instincts buried deeper than she’d ever been aware of.
“So… good… Dia…”
It felt more than just ‘good’. It shouldn’t have. She shouldn’t have wondered how much better it would have felt, had Dia really been there. Lying under her. Showing all sorts of faces and making noises completely at odds with her pristine bearing. It was wrong. Imagining her dear friend’s naked body intertwining with her own. The warmth between her legs. Inside of her. Inside. Inside…
“Dia… c-coming… inside—!”
“I’m back! Are you inside, Kita-chan? Some of the girls said they were hearing odd noises coming from… our room...”
It was too late. By the time her ears registered the knocking, the door was already turning on its hinges. All Kitasan could do was exchange a wide-eyed gaze with the horse girl who had somehow chosen the worst possible timing to arrive.
Satono Diamond stepped inside the room and froze, the words dying inside her mouth along with any thought processes she may have had up to that point. Her elegant smile disappeared, stolen by the sight of her nude childhood friend kneeling on her bed, fully erect penis stuck all the way inside a plushie bearing Dia’ very own likeness.
“W-wait, Dia-chan! I can ex… expl—aghh!”
In her attempt to reach out to her friend, Kitasan had committed the grave mistake of pushing herself and her improvised masturbatory aid against the mattress. The sudden pressure and the sensation of soft stuffing brushing against her sensitive tip sent her over the edge she was teetering on. With tears welling in her embarrassed eyes, Kitasan could only gasp as she felt a stream of hot semen spray out of her urethra, the cutesy plushie twitching together with her hips as she ejaculated inside of it. Right in front of her friend, who was smiling decidedly a lot less than her stuffed counterpart.
---
“I’m sowwyyy!”
“Like I’ve already said, Kita-chan, I’m not angry.”
“Then, can I—”
“No, you can’t take it off.”
Kitasan, who now sat on the bed’s edge, whined. Dia stood in front of her, arms crossed and a blush she couldn’t suppress tinting her cheeks pink. Being looked down on by her wasn’t exactly the worst per se – it wouldn’t have been, had Dia not prohibited her from putting some clothes on, or pulling her still half-erected shaft out of the plushie. The feeling of her own warm semen slowly trickling down her length, combined with Dia’s cold stare, made for a rather dizzying afterglow.
“Now then, Kita-chan. Exactly what were you thinking when you decided to do… this?”
“I can explain! Kind of.”
Dia’s eyes narrowing made it clear that ‘kind of’ wouldn’t easily cut it. The razor-sharp edge in her scowl dulled a bit, however, when she saw Kitasan visibly struggling to collect her thoughts (and to keep the stuffed toy held in a way that would prevent her juices from seeping out).
“It’s just… I’ve been feeling weird lately. Really weird. I-it’s like… like there’s a festival right below my tummy and they’re going all out with the fireworks. It feels hot – very hot. I thought I was just a bit restless after… after the Arima Kinen, so I tried running it off on the turf, but…”
Kitasan shook her head, ears drooping so low they were barely visible above her hair. Dia knelt down and gently placed her hands down on her friend’s bare knees. It was hard to look at her in this state – in every possible sense, but Dia cared too much to let awkwardness get in the way. Doing her best to ignore the stuffed toy’s serene face bearing down on her and the smell reminding her of what was stuck inside of it, she allowed her features to soften a bit . It wasn’t long before she saw a timid, grateful smile pierce through her dear friend’s uneasy expression.
“Was it stress, then?”
“I thought so. I told Trainer about it and he sent me to a doctor for a checkup. According to the results… it looks like I developed a case of Carrot High.”
Electricity flashed through Dia’s mind as her expression turned deathly serious.
“Carrot High…!”
Carrot High. An exceedingly rare condition unique to horse girls that many believed to be a mere urban legend. According to the rumors, a horse girl affected by it would experience significantly heightened libido, sexual prowess, and a marked increase in the volume of their reproductive fluids. And that wasn’t all: it was said that the semen of a horse girl with Carrot High would not only be particularly fertile, but also function as a natural aphrodisiac and performance enhancer. It went without saying that many scams aimed at horse girls hinged on the sale of counterfeit products derived from the fluids of individuals affected by a Carrot High.
“So it was real after all…” Dia whispered, neither she or Kitasan noticing how her gaze was fixating on the spot behind the plushie’s elegant dress where the latter’s twitchy penis was hiding.
“Apparently. I was told it’s not dangerous or anything, and that it’ll go away eventually… As long as I cu—I, I mean r-relieve myself regularly. Very regularly.”
“Relieve…!!”
Electricity flashed again through Dia’s mind, her serious expression intensifying a thousandfold. By now, she could barely notice the bitter accent in Kitasan’s smile and voice.
“It’s disgusting, isn’t it? That’s why I didn’t want to let you or everybody else know. The truth is, I’ve… I’ve been doing it a lot, Dia-chan, but it never feels like it’s enough. And when… when the u-urge gets too strong, it’s… it’s hard to keep my head on straight. Then I end up doing something this stupid and I just… I feel so embarrassed I want to die!”
“Kita-chan.”
The tears welling up in Kitasan’s eyes died prematurely on the fingertips cupping her visage. She fell quiet, watching as Dia stood back up. For all she wanted to look away, Kitasan wasn’t allowed to. She couldn’t have anyway, seeing her distraught face reflected in her friend’s penetrating gaze.
“Do you think about me, when you masturbate?”
Dia’s voice was less than a whisper brushing against her friend’s lips. Kitasan’s throat trembled as she tried to force in a breath and to ignore the blood rushing back to her throbbing dick. Noises were coming out of her mouth that didn’t resemble words in any known language. It would have been pointless either way. This was no longer a conversation, but a monologue where her involvement amounted to that of a prop.
“You do, don’t you? You can be honest with me, Kita-chan. After all, that’s why you were putting it inside of this. Right?”
“A-ah, Dia-chan, don’t, it’s going to—!”
Dia’s hands overlapped with Kitasan’s on the plushie’s sides anyway, adding to the pressure on the dick stuck inside it. Cotton stuffing soggy with copious amounts of sperm began to slide up and down Kitasan’s cock at an agonizingly sluggish pace. Feeling waves of pleasure blaze a trail up her spine, she leaned back and held on tightly to the mattress. As if she knew trying to escape would have been a futile endeavor.
“What’s going to happen, Kita-chan?” Kitasan caught a glimpse of a smirk on Dia’s face as she inched close and caught one of her ears between her lips. “You’ll come again? Would you rather fill this thing with your semen than your dear childhood friend?”
Her sultry voice flowed directly into Kitasan’s ear like sweet, sweet honey. Every nibble she bestowed on the soft cartilage stole another gasp, another throb. Kitasan’s toes curled inwards, all but their tips touching the floor as they weathered the pleasure’s mounting, relentless pull.
“It’s not because of the Carrot High. You’ve always wanted to put your cock inside my pussy. You want to poke my womb and fill it with a~ll of your thick, smelly semen, don’t you? Ki. Ta. Chan.”
Kitasan fell back, her head’s meeting with the mattress filling her vision with a dizzying amount of stars. Or maybe it was the fire between her legs doing a number on her sanity. Trying to hide her face from the shame behind her arms was useless. Her arousal was laid bare like her naked body. She gritted her teeth, trying and failing to stop her hips from following along the stuffed toy’s strokes of their own accord.
“I do! I do! I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m a terrible friend… who wants to have sex with you…!”
She could feel an orgasm brewing in her burning balls, threatening to explode any second now – until it didn’t. Dia lifted the plushie and tossed it on the bed, leaving Kitasan’s filthy, twitching penis in full display. Her unfinished climax bristled in the testicles which hung over her soaked vagina, but only smegma spilled out of her urethra. Overwhelming pleasure, the promise of what it could have been with just one more stroke. Like losing the coveted first place to a photo finish. It had to be Dia’s idea of a fitting punishment for her perversion. It was only fair – and her eyes, still stubbornly hiding behind her arms, stung all the more because of it. There was nothing left to do now other than to wait for her libido to settle down and hope to find a way to reconcile with her friend. Her breaths were too heavy to let her hear the rustling of clothes or the light switch’s click.
“You’re wrong, Kita-chan. If that’s the case, then we are both terrible friends.”
“Eh…?”
Kitasan moved her arms aside and forced her eyes to open to discover the room’s artificial lighting had been turned off. In front of her stood Dia, looking calm despite her clothes lying in a pile at her feet. The moonlight streaming through the window enveloped her, drawing the contours of her body’s sensual outline and accentuating its differences from Kitasan’s slender, toned silhouette.
The pale glow poured down like milk over her generous breasts, at least one size larger than Kitasan’s, nipples protruding from them like cherries ripe for the picking. Underneath, the slight hint of plump on her midriff complimented by the sizable roundness of her glutes and powerful legs toned by ceaseless exercise. Beneath her navel were chestnut pubes which, unlike Kitasan’s wild black mane, had trimmed with care. A cute accent, partially hidden by the penis which stood erect in front of them, plenty of precum aglow with moonlight over the tip peeking out of her foreskin. It would have taken two hands to envelop its full length; if Kitasan’s surpassed it by one half more, she owed it solely to the Carrot High. A healthy pair of shaved balls hung by the base, hiding her vagina but not the juices leaking down her inner thighs.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, Kita-chan.”
Before she could fully process what was happening, Kitasan felt the bed creak against her back as Dia climbed it to straddle her. Once again she tried to cover her face, but her friend was faster to seize her wrists and pull her up in an embrace as unexpected as everything else that had been transparing.
“You can’t look away anymore.”
A plain statement. An order. A plea. Whatever it was, Dia was right. The rosy shade on her determined expression. Her breasts, pressing against Kitasan’s smaller ones, as if devouring them. With every breath they drew, their nipples exchanged a poke or a caress, producing sparks of thrilling pleasure as they grew harder and harder. Beneath them, even if Kitasan couldn’t see them, she could feel her dick and Dia’s, sandwiching each other against their bellies. Their tips rubbed together, engaging in a lascivious kiss, exchanging not saliva but smegma that leaked all the way down to their mutually rubbing balls.
It was all Kitasan could do to keep an unsteady hold on the last crumbs of her self-control. Dia’s arms, locked behind her neck, forced her to acknowledge that there was no alternative to consider. Feeling one another’s tense breaths on their faces, the two horse girls quietly let their gazes meet. Their silence was charged with mutual understanding: this was no longer something they could brush away as a game between childhood friends or the byproduct of bizarre circumstances. Coincidence, fueled by the Carrot High, had set the stage for them, but it was their own feelings that had made the slope slippery under their feet. Their bodies were ripe with womanhood and brimming with instinctual, mirrored desires.
“Are you sure, Dia-chan…?”
Kitasan had already firmly grabbed Dia’s ass well before seeing her nod. Feeling her childhood friend’s voluptuous, naked body shiver against her own filled her with enough excitement to overcome the hesitation stiffening her limbs. Countless years worth of admiration and affection were now congealing into a different kind of emotion she felt eager to concretize – into words and actions alike. Whether it was the Carrot High’s fault or not, she didn’t want to know. No emotion she had felt since her last race could compare. No, she felt confident that this feeling could bloom into something excelling even the greatest highs the turf had granted her.
Dia’s tail kept swishing without repose, battering impatiently against Kitasan’s legs to let her know that they shared that exact same sentiment.
“Dia-chan, I…”
A confession. A declaration. The crystallization of things unsaid and pining left unresolved. Instead of words, their lips finally met, sealing the evolution of their relationship with warm saliva.
They nibbled at each other with deliberate hesitation dictated by inexperience at first. Fluttery kisses and pecks, alternating at a calm enough pace to let them gauge each other’s reactions and find an invitation to go timidly go further. It didn’t last. It was Dia who upped the ante first by refusing to break their kiss, but it was Kitasan whose tongue boldly ventured forth in search of a fitting dance partner. She saw Dia’s eyes widen in surprise, before feeling a sudden pushback. Their competitive spirit had flared up, their tongues vying for supremacy over one another while their hips moved in chaotic tandem, grinding their leaking cocks and their balls together.
“Penis… my p-penis is… touching yours… Kita-chan… Is this like how you imagined it… all those times… when you were masturbating…?”
“B-better… it feels so much better, Dia-chan! I love it… Rubbing our cocks together feels… so… great!”
They tripped over their own slurred voices, trying to put as few gaps as possible between their kisses, strands of spittle keeping their mouths connected regardless, while some other dripped between their slippery breasts.
“Diiia-cha...ah—!”
Kitasan’s grip grew tighter, lifting Dia’s butt only to pull it back down while her hips thrust in an opposite rhythm. Their frottage had rapidly grown intense enough to fill the room, already rife with their moans, with a deluge of perverse slapping noises. Faster. Faster. Slick against skin. Penis against penis. Tongues slipping in and out of their mouths. Toned bellies forcing increasing pressure on their dicks, until they could feel unbearable heat rushing up their shafts.
“K-Kita-chan, c-cominnngh…”
Their voices turned into feral growls reverberating between their locked lips. Hugging each other as tightly as their lean arms allowed, the two childhood friends felt each other spasm as semen sprayed out of them in quick bursts. Even if they couldn’t see it, their bodies felt it all too clearly… Sticky, hot warmth seeping into their navels, the gaps where their breasts pressed together. Their mingling flavors of cum poured down on their dicks, soiling their mismatched bushes. It kept flowing between their thighs, mixing with the secretions of their quivering pussies, dirtying the bed without either of them taking care to notice.
How could they? The horny daze their minds had fallen into well surpassed the aftermath of any of their races. Their skin knew well the chafing of fabric, the bittersweet touch of sweat and tears… but the perverse intimacy of feeling their sperm blending over their hugging penises? It was a wonder horse girls could live without knowing this sensation.
They didn’t want it to end. They couldn’t. Simmering in the afterglow of their mutual masturbation, the two horse girls could only continue to cling to each other’s nude bodies. Each waiting for the other to be the one to stop stalling. It was Dia who eventually caved, managing only to pull away enough to allow her and Kitasan to look down at the mess they had made of themselves. At the dicks responsible, still twitching and fully erect despite all the semen they had swapped.
“More.”
Dia climbed down, pulling her friend off the bed. Kitasan complied, transfixed by the elegance of Dia’s movements, its sheer contrast with her disheveled state. She watched as her friend turned around and bent down, spreading her own ass to put her holes and hanging balls in full, shameless display, tail swaying tantalizingly in front of her temptation. If her offer hadn’t been made clear already, the blushing desire on her expression left no quarter for misunderstandings. Kitasan’s heart pumped adrenaline-filled blood through her body, sending it to the veins bulging across her hardening penis.
“Dia-chan, I—”
“Kita-chan.”
The words died on the tip of Kitasan’s tongue. In that moment, a gathering of clouds in the night sky parted, allowing the full moon to bathe the horse girls’ shared room in its brightest glow yet. It was then that Kitasan understood, more clearly than before. What she was breathlessly gazing at was no longer the tiny young horse girl she had shared her childhood with. The innocent child who used to play make-believe races with her, with whom she ran as they chased their dream with bright-eyed enthusiasm. This wasn’t just ‘Dia-chan’ anymore. It was a beautiful woman named Satono Diamond. A derby champion who had shamelessly cast away her refined demeanor, baring her sweaty body and drenched holes for want of a dick. Her dick – Kitasan Black’s thick, throbbing penis, covered from tip to base in a depraved mixture of their cum.
“I need you to be quiet and make love to me right now.”
The starting shot thundered inside Kitasan’s head. The gate had been blown open. She sprung forward like this was the first race of her new life. Draping herself over Dia’s back, her arms wrapped around her friend—no, her lover’s waist as she began delivering aggressive thrusts. Her hips smacked against Dia’s butt with loud slapping noises, following a desperate rhythm.
“Dia-chan… Dia-chan…!”
She could feel her cock slipping through soft flesh, but her expression betrayed no hint of satisfaction. It was the crack between Dia’s ass cheeks that she was rubbing herself in, rather than her real target.
“Kita-chan, wait… here…”
Propping herself on the bed with one hand, Dia reached around to grab Kitasan’s penis, squeezing it firmly to slow its motions. Her hand, trembling with impatience, guided it to her entrance. Unimaginable warmth began spreading from Kitasan’s urethra to the ridge of her glans; yet, instead of shoving it further inside, she felt the pull of her deteriorating reason freeze her in place.
“Dia-chan, are… a-are you sure…? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me, Kita-chan.” Dia smiled over her shoulder. Beneath the blush which had spread across her face, Kitasan could see a small shade of uncertainty. Even so, against her own hesitation, Dia began swaying her hips, letting the tip of her childhood friend’s dick stir her sopping outer folds. If the heated pleasure from just this was enough to draw her to edge, Kitasan couldn’t help wondering how she would feel once past that forbidden threshold…
“So f...fuck me already, Kita-chan!”
And so she did. Kitasan thrust her hips forward with a sudden, irresistible impetus, shoving her shaft all the way in and past the flimsy barrier of her childhood friend’s virginity. Walls of flesh hotter than she could fathom clamped around her, squeezing her penis so hard she worried it might be crushed. It wasn’t fear that made her pull back. It was primal hunger that made her drive it right back in.
Dia’s upper body bent over until she met the mattress. Her fingernails and teeth sunk into the sheets, trying to suppress pained cries that could have stopped Kitasan’s rabid penetration. Even as she got fucked with enough force for her hips to jump, leaving her standing on unsteady tiptoes, she let the sheets soak her tears and drool. The sharp pain would be worth the pleasure she could feel steadily overtaking it.
“To think a Carrot High… could be so…!”
“Amazing… your pussy feels amazing, Dia-chan!”
Kitasan hoped it felt just as amazing, when her cock slid in. The force behind hips, chiseled by years of training, sent her far enough inside for her tip to poke what had to be the entrance of Dia’s womb. She wanted… she wanted to fill it up. To empty her balls’ contents inside her precious Dia-chan’s tummy. She couldn’t make sense of a thought she had never considered before the Carrot High had done a number on her self-control, but that didn’t stop her from actin upon it with all of her might. The search for pleasure was all that mattered. Pleasure for herself. Pleasure for Dia. She wanted to feel all the ways her pussy could contract to wring her balls dry. More… she wanted Dia to feel more, so much more…
“K-Kita...chan!?”
With a yelp, Dia arched her back. Her head shot up so fast she felt the sheets’ fabric tear between her teeth from the whiplash, but she couldn’t pay it any heed. She let it go, a curtain hiding a perverse spectacle, so she could stare down at her own body, wide-eyed and drooling from her hanging jaw.
It was too much. As if having her pussy turned inside out by her childhood friend’s cock wasn’t enough, Dia now had to weather another simultaneous barrage of pleasure from Kitasan’s grip on her own shaft. Thanks to it still being slick with semen, the fingers holding it were able to pump with quick, frenetic motions than ran the whole length from the base to her leaking tip.
Pain soon disappeared in of a frenetic pleasure vortex. Amid the wet din of slapping meat, the two horse girls’ moans vibrated across their room’s walls like joyful, senseless laughter. The frantic stirring of their bodies was like a celebration of every electric signal rippling through their sensitive nerves. They were happy to make love, happy that the Carrot High had reduced them to beasts in heat, happy to fuck each other with thoughtless abandon.
“A-ah… Kita-chan, I think… I think I’m about to… The bed… I’ll dirty the bed…!”
Unable able to process what Dia was telling her, Kitasan realized what she meant through the twitching between her fingers. She looked around, unwilling to settle for a solution that would have forced them to interrupt their intimact for a single second—and found one lying right within arm’s reach, on the very same bed where Dia herself had tossed it what seemed like an eternity ago.
At first, Dia believed Kitasan had freed her penis in order to help stave off her orgasm. She whined in protest, her eyes shut and head shaking vehemently. Not noticing what was happening, until she felt something envelop and slide down her cock. Something different from Kitasan’s flexible fingers… softer… a bit damp…?
“H…huuuh!?”
She looked down to find her own face staring back with an oblivious smile. Or rather, an exaggerated, cutesy caricature of her face. She couldn’t believe it. She was penetrating the stuffed toy. The plushie that looked like her, the same one Kitasan’s dick had been using as her substitute. Too bewildered for words, Dia watched and gasped at her cock going in and out of the stuffed toy’s skirt, violating it. Violating… herself? It was an insane thought, too senseless, too depraved…
So why did her discomfort feel so absurdly good? Why, unbeknownst to herself, was she smiling at debauchery the likes of which the Satono family wouldn’t ever have tolerated? Her question was suffocated by Kitasan holding her hands and pinning her to the bed, against the plushie. She could feel her insides being pounded with more vigor than ever, her pussy flooding to the point she couldn’t tell where her juices ended and Kitasan’s precum began. In the dim moonlight, the boundary between herself and her dear friend, her cherished lover, had become too thin and fragile. She was so horny she struggled to even distinguish between herself and her stuffed counterpart.
“Dia-chan… Something big’s c-coming…”
“Inside! Do it inside… pour it in my tummy… Want you… fill me…”
Dia’s voice drowned into rivers of saliva pouring out of her mouth. Kitasan was all too happy to oblige her. Her balls were aching, feeling like balloons on the verge of bursting despite having come not too long ago. Was this because of the Carrot High? Aah, whatever… It was too late. She gave her all for the last spurt, accelerating as fast as her dwindling deserves of energy would allow her until she could crown her finishing spurt with one last, vigorous thrust.
“Ngh… Dia-ch—aaanh!”
“Kkh, Kita… I c… I caaan’t—!”
They cried in unison, their voices melting into delirious groans. Neither of them were prepared. Kitasan’s previous ejaculation was merely a tame prelude, a hint of what a Carrot High could make possible. Now, inside Dia’s pussy, Kitachan’s cum sprayed forth in a continuous, powerful stream, pouring directly from her cock into the womb it had poked its way in. She felt it burn its way up out of her balls, up her urethra, making her shudder uncontrollably between bursting salvos that filled Dia’s stomach well beyond its ability to contain it.
“You’re filling me up… Filling my womb with your semen… I’m going to have Kita-chan’s babies… Our babies…”
Dia could barely breathe, much less speak coherently. Sperm shot simultaneously into and out of her without pause, tricking her mind into believing she was somehow ejaculating inside herself. And she was, in a sense. Filled with both of her and Kitasan’s cum, the stuffed Satono Diamond had become a soggy mess against her model’s inflating stomach.
The weight on her belly was beginning to be too much. Exerting what little strength she had left, Dia pushed herself along with Kitasan enough for her belly to slip off the bed’s edge. The plushie fell off, leaving Dia’s dick free to weakly sputter a few more strands on the floor. Leaving mere stains, compared to the mess pooling up beneath her overflowing pussy.
“It’s not stopping, Dia-chan, it won’t—nnh… It’s scary… b-but… it feels…”
Incredibly nice. The anxiety somehow fed into her pleasure too. Kitasan reveled in feeling her glans, its ridge stuck against the entrance of Dia’s womb, submerged in her own hot cum. Under her palms, Dia’s belly had grown round and taut. Because of me, Kitasan thought, and the moment she did, she felt her ejaculation subside in the throes of a last few intense shots.
“So tiiired.” With an exhausted sigh, she laid her chin on Dia’s shoulder and pressed their cheeks together. A smile crept on her face as they spontaneously began exchanging affectionate nuzzles. Soft giggles soon filled the air, in sweet contrast with the pungent scent of sex permeating the room the two horse girls had turned into their love nest. They spent a while soaking in the atmosphere they had created and the increased sensitivity of their sticky bodies. The little twitches of their ears as they flicked against each other. The flavor left on their lips whenever one of them pecked a bead of perspiration off the other’s visage. Kitasan’s nipples tracing small circles against Dia’s back with their every alternating breath. The lingering connection of their intimate bits. Their entwined fingers lazily tracing the contours of Dia’s engorged belly.
“Dia, it’s like you’re really…”
“Yes.”
“But what if you end up having a b-bab—“
Dia’s fingertip got in the way of Kitasan’s mouth saying a single word more. She let it slip through her parted lips, substituting her anxieties with a taste of sperm stolen off her limp penis. Whether her own or Dia’s, she couldn’t tell.
“Our babies would be worth putting my career on hold for a while. And, besides… with all the time she has to spare, Kita-chan would have no problem taking care of them, hmm?”
Her finger slipped out, leaving Kitasan free to let out a weak, defeated laugh. She really couldn’t win against Dia, could she? Except the kiss they shared afterwards felt like a victory for both of them.
“Yeah. I think I like the sound of that. Our…”
---
“Babies? Nah, don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon.”
“Eh?”
Kitasan and Dia shared a puzzled look before directing it to Gold Ship. Who, for her part, looked more interested in the Immobile Suit Gundamn model she had arbitrarily decided to build, occupying most of the space available on the desk in the process. It was troublesome to say the least. Not the desk being taken over (even if that was inconvenient in its own right), but the great news Kitasan and Dia had delivered to Team Spica. The same news Gold Ship had debunked before the rest of the slack-jawed team assembled before the hand-holding duo could have processed it. Eventually, after a beat that lasted for what felt like an eternity, the tense silence was broken by Dia clearing her throat. The elation on her face was no more. Hers was now the face of a horse girl who was witnessing an adversary’s back come between her and the goal in a race’s decisive last spurt.
“G-Gold Ship-san, could you elaborate?”
“You said it’s Carrot High, right?” Kitasan gave a hesitant nod, a bead of sweat running down her apprehensive face. She didn’t find Gold Ship’s nod nor the ensuing shrug particularly comforting. “Yeah, I wouldn’t racing to the maternity ward if I were you.”
“But that’s impossible! Kita-chan definitely ejaculated inside me!”
“Dia-chan!?” Kitasan would have scrambled to shove her palm right over Dia’s unbridled chatterbox, had it not been for the latter’s steel grip hardening enough to put her hand’s bones to the test. She needed help, fast, before either their dignity or her hand could be shattered into pieces. Her pleading gaze thus fell on…
“Daiwa-san, Vodka-san, please say something!”
Her ever reliable senpai! Although… for all their composure, that sure was a deep shade of red on their cheeks…
“S-she really said ‘ejaculated’ like it was nothing.”
“Yeeep. Inside, huh…?”
No good. The way they exchanged looks before averting their eyes and squirming uncomfortably just screamed I wonder how that feels? A lost cause, in other words. And on that note, Dia was nowhere near finished just yet. Taking a step forward, she brought her free hand to her chest to declare, in loud, impassioned fashion...
“The amount of semen inside my womb was, frankly speaking, outrageous. Do you understand? The circumference of my belly could have put the Kyoto racetrack’s largest curve to shame!”
Oh no, now even Special Week and Silence Suzuka’s were measuring invisible bulges in front of their stomachs. Don’t look so impressed! Please!
“Aye, sure, except your tummy looks like it’s already back to normal. That’s a Carrot high for you. Bet you heard about the fertility stuff, right?” Gold Ship’s devious grin. The least reassuring sight in the world, heralding misfortune no horse girl could hope to outrun. “Flash news: that’s totally made-up. The truth is… it’s the total opposite.”
“The… opposite?” Dia’s whisper could barely be heard over the sound of the bones in Kitasan’s hand creaking in her grasp.
“It’s like… us horse girlies, we’ve got a certain balance of ‘quantity’ and ‘quality’ when it comes to penis milk.”
“Penis what.” Vodka and Daiwa placed one hand each on the bewildered Mejiro McQueen’s shoulders and shook their reddened heads in resigned unison.
“The baseline’s 50/50, even if, realistically, most of us got a bit of variation. You come down with a Carrot High though and BAM!” Gold Ship slapped the table, her half-finished model threatening to crumble from the sudden tremor. “It’s ‘quantity’ all the way, baby! 99-to-1, give or take. Which means your ‘quality’ – in other words, your chances of putting even one baby in someone’s oven – are as good as gone, Kita-chan.”
“No way.”
Dia’s grip finally relented as the shock sent her slumping on the floor, looking completely dejected beneath her drooping ears.
“Well, it’s not like the chances are zero. You’d have to really go at it, though.”
The aforementioned ears instantly perked up. Kitasan wasn’t done massaging her spared hand that Dia had already gotten back up and latched onto her arm with strength befitting a G1 winner and an almost eerily happy smile.
“I see. Thank you for your experienced insight, Gold Ship-san.”
“Riiight, you lovebirds, that’s fine and all… but you really want to tone the volume down a bit in the future.” Tokai Teio let out a sigh, a diplomatic smile already locked and loaded for the benefit of Kitasan.
“W-were we that loud?”
“Louder, if the complaints I got from the dorm matron are anything to go by.”
“I’m sorry in more ways than I can list, Teio-san.” Kitasan looked away towards an empty spot, disappointed not to find a portal to an alternate dimension where her reputation hadn’t suffered a blow of such titanic proportions.
“O-of course, I must apologize too. I share a responsibility for having besmirched Team Spica’s prestige with my shameful actions, after all…” Dia bowed, her grip on Kita’s arm mercifully loosening to a tolerable level.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. That’s what being young is all about, right?”
“And would ‘being young’ exclude the horse girl who has to tiptoe to pat her disciple’s head?”
The disciple eagerly ignored the sparks between her master and McQueen’s glares, too preoccupied with soaking in the former’s pats. For some reason, she felt like laughing, and her amusement soon spread from her to the rest of Team Spica. Despite everything, it was just a day like any other. Full of excitement, fun, and—
“Oh, hey, by the way, the part about Carrot High turning your baby batter into some kind of super healthy nutrient that makes you run better is 100% real.”
“Eh?”
“Ditto about the sex stuff. Carrot High turns you into a bonafide fuckmachine. Once horse girls get a taste, they can’t go back to the normie stuff anymore.”
“Eh?”
Silence. A quiet moment ripe with the kind of dizzying tension horse girls normally only felt within the confines of the starting gate.
“Err… Are you absolutely sure, Gold Ship-sa—say, w-what’s with the looks, everyone?”
The smile died on Kitasan’s face. She recalled seeing the aura emanating from her precious teammates during the most decisive races of their careers. It was the mark of a predator staking its life on the intensity of its thirst for victory. Although this thirst felt a tad different.
“S-say, Kita-chan, how does a private training session sound…?” Daiwa’s attempt at looking innocent was thwarted not only by her blush, but how she somehow didn’t notice herself trying to twirl the entirety of one of her gigantic twintails around her measly finger.
“Aaah, I knew it! Horse girl my butt, you’re a conniving fox! Fox girl, fox girl!”
While Vodka and Daiwa began one of their usual heated spats, the rest of Team Spica loomed ever closer to Kitasan. It fell to Dia to stand between her and the horde, but her spread arms could only do so much to stop their sales pitches.
“How about deepening our relationship, Kita-chan? A-as master and disciple, of course.”
McQueen shoved Teio’s face out of the way.
“Do not listen to her! The Mejiro estate is equipped with facilities that would allow you to make full use of your p-prowess!”
Silence Suzuka and Special Week’s flushed faces popped between Dia’s legs, stealing a surprised yelp out of her.
“I wouldn’t mind carrying your spirit… or your body… together with me to the goal.”
“Is yours bigger than a carrot? Speaking of which, I’ve got a couple tricks you can do with a carrot that I could teach you!”
A terrified Kitasan crawled back, dragging her butt on the floor as the hungry shadows of her teammates encroached closer and closer. She could barely hear her childhood friend yelling for her to run for safety. But she could definitely feel – and see – the thing bulging against her own skirt.
It was a beacon of hope and despair. The mark heralding the beginning of Tracen Academy’s biggest Carrot High epidemic since its inception. It was her body’s traitorous way of telling Kitasan that there would no escaping a fate she’d inevitably end up seeking of her own volition.
“Kita-chan, run while you still—!”
It was a sprint to put her bygone racing days to shame. Dia and Team Spica’s voices were already a mere echo coming from the building left several paces behind Kitasan… but she knew deep down that hers was a fate that couldn’t be outrun. She could clearly see it in the chaotic picture painted over her vision of Tracen’s scenery blurring by: her life turning into a spiral like her disoriented, rolling eyes, an abyss of depravity awaiting her fall from the summit of her hard-earned victories. Run? The blood that once rushed through her legs now belonged in the veins of her instrument of pleasure. Escape? To such a question, Kitasan could only yell a whiny answer:
“I caaaaaan’t!”