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When I first arrived at this ultimately-plush and ultimately-pleasurable pony farm, I got the grand tour. What I saw, and what I have seen since, make me think that Stephen King is a documentary writer, not a fiction novelist, and that movie characters like Dr. Hannibal Lecter actually exist. But what really made me look twice on that first time around was Sub-Male Pony Barn Number 49. The human equines were well-trained, well-tanned, well-muscled and really swell to look at in their glistening, freshly washed-down nudity. They loved being such pretty ponies. They loved being naked and playful with all the other pretty ponies. Their always-swelled cocks proved it. While the boners were beautiful, there was something different about them, really different. In a nice way, of course. They were all at least 10 inches long (apparently a pre-qualification to be in barn 49), but I soon learned that they all used to be about two inches longer. Two inches right off the top. The cocks now ended with flat tops. The cocks had been beheaded. A stable of ripe mushrooms chopped right off. My face must have been asking questions, because my tour guide laughed and said, “Let me tell you about these no-cock-head thoroughbreds.” It seems there is a very rich guy in one of the Scandinavian countries with a very particular perversion. For years and years he had fantasized about cock-head stew. He registered, and paid for, fantasy fulfillment at this South American pony-farm-of-pleasure through a German friend, a fellow extreme eroticist. When the pony farmers read the eunuch.org article “Glans Removal” by Yez, they finally knew how to cook “You Stew,” the cock concoction the Scandinavian craved. Following the procedure described, all of barn 49 had a thrilling new veterinary experience. For extra cash, the Scandinavian came to the ceremony and helped slice and dice. He brought his own chef — a pretty-talented very-pretty (and almost always nude) woman who shared most perversions with her man-hungry friend. The tropical sunshine was wonderful that day. The paraded ponies must always be silent, but they knew something was up. And their cocks were way, way up. The human harvest of extreme circumcision was classy pomp and circumstance, with each beautiful pony displaying his smoothly-waxed, proud and perfect penis in a classic stance. The first ingredient collected was the sauce. On this special day, the ponies got to suck each other off, but they were ordered not to swallow. Their tongues got to taste, but then they snow-balled the juicy jism into the chef’s clear-glass pot. The pasture was an awesome sight, as the skilled animals lovingly tongued each other into losing their lovely loads. Then, if you read the “Glans Removal” story on eunuch.org you will know how the gastric gala proceeded next. Soon the well-endowed hard-again ponies were having some of the best of the submissive fun they had hoped for when they came to live here as owned pets for the rest of their lives. They knew that their fellow ponies in barn 36 already had a fun genital modification when their balls were harvested to satisfy the zest of another client’s perverse palate. Now they were really happy to get a cool new modification too. The Scandinavian went right down the line. His sharp knife sliced just above the knot. The well-hung horses flinched not. Great globs of mouth-watering penis glans plopped into the cum-filled pot. Two-dozen swelled cock heads soon simmered in the white cream, steaming with a delightful aroma for hours. When the cream thickened, more was added from other man-ponies. The Scandinavian guy even added some of his own. Then he sat down to his dream dinner. He ate with toothpicks. He licked the pot clean. A smiling cum-covered face he didn’t wash off. The stewardess in first class complimented him on his cologne. He didn’t tell her that the special scent was the sweetness of his breath, a mouth still savoring the essence of sperm-sauced “You Stew.”
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