by Penny Lam
“Oh, Baby,” she heard him whisper as he continued the gentle push-and-pull on her tail. It was a slow, agonizing pleasure, her body churning to a humiliatingly quick orgasmn. “I’ve missed you. I’ve been stupid, and I’ve been treating you so, so wrong.”
Her heart was convulsing in her chest, irregular, struggling. It wanted to shrink from his words, too afraid of being hurt. It wanted to leap from her chest, filled to bursting with triumph and, above all, love.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” As he said these words, this litany of humility, he slipped his other fingers between her slick folds. Maple opened her legs wider, inviting him, and sighed as two fingers slid into her hot channel. Her pussy was swollen, needy, desperate for his fingers.
Maple wasn’t sure of pony rules when it came to this. Her limited experience had been being a pony with a trainer, and seeing a pony mounted by another pony. This was nothing like anything she’d ever felt before, a trainer touching his pony so.
He had one hand behind her, holding her captive by her tail, working that deeply imbedded toy in her. Her ass clenched around it, pushed, clenched, all the while her body was winding tighter and tighter.
J.B. stroked her, soft and sure, curling his fingers until she saw stars. He played with her, and never had Maple been loved so sweetly. In her darkest, most secret dreams, she never would have allowed herself to believe her body could respond to, well, kindness. To love.
“Do you forgive me?” J.B. nipped at her jaw, his teeth scraping lightly at her ear and throat. “Will you come for me, my good pony? My sweet, wonderful, pony? Come for me now!”
His praise and adoration spilled through her like rain and she came, her orgasm sparking. It rippled through her, the plug and his fingers coaxing it to grow and grow. Maple forgot herself in the sensation, her hands leaping into his hair, knocking off his wide-brimmed hat and knotting in his hair.
She writhed on his hand, grinding down, her head tossed back.
“Yes, Baby, yes,” he soothed, “There’s my good girl.”
She whimpered when he removed his fingers, but she didn’t speak--he hadn’t asked for that. Not yet. Just her forgiveness, which baffled her. It was she who should be apologizing to him. Sorry for being so easily disassembled. For not believing in him. For not trusting him. For not trusting herself.
The moment was golden. Each part of her was alight, glowing. His forehead pressed to her sternum and she leaned back, supported by him, letting him find comfort in her embrace.
“May I love you?” He asked, strained.
May he love her? Was he crazy? That’s all she’d ever wanted!
She stamped once, emphatically. Please, she wanted to cry. Please love me!
He growled, and it shuddered through her, its primal call heating her once more. J.B. stood tall once more and guided her around. He placed her hands on the wall. They were in the middle of the hallway leading out of the house. The wall closest to them was partially glass. Maple mewled as she realized anyone could come by, anyone could see.
It scalded her, made her even more needy and pliant.
Gently, J.B. lifted her tail -- but didn’t remove it -- draping it over her lower back. The silky swish of it across her skin was divine. She heard him unzip and then, oh God, then he was inside of her. She was stretched tight, his cock nestled in deep with the plug only a thin membrane away.
Her two holes were filled completely, and she slapped the wall, unable to cry out her ecstasy. “That’s it, girl. Nice and slow,” he encouraged her, placing his large, rough hands over hers, pinning her to the wall. J.B. pulled out a little and then slid in. His belly pressed the dildo in deep, the pressure blooming inside of her, and Maple let out a choking bray.
With sensitive, delicate care, he loved her deep and long. Each stroke filled her. Each thrust stretched her, her holes begging for more. When she was close to coming again, he slid one hand over her mouth, thrusting two fingers inside. She tasted her salty musk on his skin.
He was everywhere. She felt him in her mouth, swirling her tongue over gritty callous and her lingering juices. Maple felt him in her ass, his body manipulating the plug inside of her, forcing her to accept its wide, thick length over and over.
She felt him in every centimeter of her pussy, as it clenched and cradled him.
Her orgasm built slow, burning low like a cigarette before exploding, catching her off guard. Every nerve, every pore and cell detonated and she would have collapsed if J.B. hadn’t caught her around her middle, lowering her to the ground while still buried in her.
He mounted her from behind, his pace changing to short, hard thrusts, and Maple couldn’t keep it in anymore. She screamed out for him. The scream was a ragged thing, like it was forced through glass, her throat so raw from disuse.
J.B.’s fingers tightened, and he jerked a few times before pulling out and coming on her ass. She felt the hot, sticky semen dripping down her skin and sighed, content.
Her limbs were tingling, her body languid as J.B. carefully cleaned her off and gathered her into his arms. He nestled her onto his lap, swooping her tail around, his fingers playing with the ends of it. Maple leaned into him, burying her face into the nook of his shoulder.
J.B.’s smell was familiar, but after so long in the stable, it felt new. Sunlight and leather, a hint of pine from his shampoo. The musk of their sex lingered, too.
What had happened? She’d been so heartbroken for so long, and Reece hadn’t done much to help her feel stronger. Maple had been certain she was days away from seeing J.B. for the last time before being pawned off to a new Master.
He’d been so distant, cold even, since she began her training. Each day she’d wondered if a wedge was being shoved further and further between them, a wedge of her own creation.
So many times Maple had considered that she was her own worst enemy. Now she felt tremulous, a bird half-way into flight, heart beating quick and light.
“Maple, I’m sorry.” His words caressed the hair at the crown of her head, sending shivers down her neck and spine. “If I’d have known--” his voice caught. Not by tears, but by… what? Self-loathing? Regret?
She leaned out and peered at him. He caught her confused expression, his own tightening in response. “I should have shot them both. I wish I had been the one to shoot Tony, not Reece.” Venom laced through his voice, dropping it low and deadly. “They are fucking scum, Maple, for what they did to you, and to other girls.”
Tears, fat and heavy, welled in her eyes. So he did know. How could he even stand to touch her, knowing how used her body had been?
Maple shrank into herself, but he caught her, stopped her, brought her back to him. “Don’t you dare, Maple. Don’t you dare think this is your fault. They prey on young girls. Prey on desires you should never feel ashamed of. They twist and warp and break you.
“That club they are running does what I do, but much, much worse. They beat women into submission, torture them and scar them, and then sell them to despicable men who dare to call themselves Masters. I have no idea how they received invitations to Peyton’s auction, but I refuse to sell women there anymore if he’s letting animals like your ex in.”
Maple’s head reeled. Tony? Selling? She’d never delved into his other activities. He’d been very clear about what parts of her life she’d had access too. It felt surreal, part of her denying the accusation (he wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t!) and part of her certain it was the truth (oh my God, how could he?). This, in turn, led to a surge of violent terror.
Her body spasmed from the force of the fear, the memories pounding into her. Each hurt and humiliation. The way he’d let men use her, treating her like a… like a cock sleeve! Had he been aiming to sell her?
But then J.B. was there, his commanding voice telling her it was okay. It wasn’t a consolation, he wasn’t trying to patronize her. He was telling her, with absolute assurance, it was okay now. He was here now. He would never, never let anything hurt her.
>
Maple clung to him like a lifeline until she could wrangle herself into calm.
“Maple, I’m going after them. Raúl and the boys and I, we’ve tracked their suppliers. They operate all over the place, but they’re going to sell to the cartel soon. There’s a pick up point about fifty miles from here. Tonight.” J.B. sneered. “Those guys don’t even know how to cover their tracks. It was so easy to get that information with enough money.”
Maple looked up at his face, her shoulders and neck tense and her mind confused. What was J.B. even talking about?
He kissed her again, gently. “I’m going to get them, Maple. I’m going to nail those sons of bitches tonight. Raúl’s put in an anonymous tip with the Feds, and we’re going out to make sure those fuckers get caught. He’s already loaded the trailer with the horses.”
Her gut twisted in fear. She shook her head. There wasn’t any need for him to go! But then he was there, kissing her, kissing away the fear and worry and replacing it with love. With valor. It was important to him, she realized, to take care of her this way. It wasn’t quite cowboy justice, but it was damned close.
J.B. was old school. He cherished and protected what was his. That’s what he was telling her. As much as she was concerned about him getting tangled up with Gus and Tony, she also craved knowing they’d be in prison, locked away from ever hurting anyone again.
“Baby, I think I understand why you did this.” He tugged on her tail. “You needed the kindness. The discipline. Proof that you weren’t… weren’t his anymore. Is that right?”
Mute, she nodded. J.B. was eviscerating her, tearing her open, scooping out everything. He was making her hollow of the hate, the anxiety, the constant tearing-down she did to herself.
“You don’t have to anymore. I didn’t understand, and you were trying to tell me. I should have listened. I thought--” He shook his head, his face softening as he considered his own actions, “I thought that you were trying to punish me. To scrub out Rachel.”
She shook her head. No, she’d never wanted to hurt him or try to take Rachel’s place.
“I know that now. The pain of her death, I made it into armor. She was a fine woman. Strong, beautiful, and a great business partner. She pushed me to be okay with who I am and what I want. Because sometimes,” his eyes flared with lust, “what I want isn’t palatable for most.”
Had he ever been this open? Even with Rachel? J.B. was filling her back up with his solidness. His stories. He was making her his, completely, and she was desperate for all of him.
Her face warmed with a smile. She found anything, everything he had to offer palatable. Maple craved him, in all his forms, so long as he was hers-- truly hers.
“I’ve been an ass. Knowing what you’ve been through, what you’ve let me put you through-- Christ, you’re tough. Tougher than I ever would have suspected. That first day you came in, you were this meek little mouse. I thought I wanted that, wanted you simpering underneath me.” Not that Maple minded, but where was this coming from? Reece had been so certain J.B. wouldn’t change in time. Maple had set her heart for disappointment and heartbreak. This honesty was like a sword, cleaving her apart, and she wouldn’t trade the painful joy for anything in the world.
“You… you’ve changed me. You’ve changed how I do things, how I perceive the world. That’s no small feat, Baby. I see your strength and it fucking inspires me. Stubbornness is in my blood; it was in my father and his father before. You’re the first woman I’ve met mule-headed enough to really challenge me, and I think I love you for it.”
She swooned, feeling light and airy and free. He loved her. He’d said it and, for the first time, she truly heard him. It was truth, and it was hers.
“Maple, talk to me,” he whispered.
She kissed him, soft and full on his grim mouth. Then, just as gently, she shook her head.
“But I don’t want you in there anymore. It clearly isn’t good for you. And… I’m sorry. The other pony, she looks so much like Rachel. It got to me. It shouldn’t have and I could shoot myself if I’ve caused you hurt.” There was a pained edge sneaking back into his gravel voice, and she winced. Maple didn’t want to cause him any hurt. But he needed to understand-- she couldn’t quit. Not now. His apology, though… it was everything.
The change she’d wanted was happening, but it wasn’t complete. Maple felt stronger, more capable. She was learning to cherish the dark desires inside of her. The tail? The bit? She felt glorious with them. An equine goddess, sent to entice. To pleasure.
But she’d still waivered so much. She’d let her past and her doubt get the best of her time and time again. He was right. She was strong. And this was something she needed to see through if she was ever going to be able to let him love her.
J.B., thankfully, didn’t question her. Maple was grateful, reaching up and cupping his cheek. He kissed her again, his tongue sliding in, claiming her, until her body began to shake and yearn.
They went back out to the stable. He made no effort to hide his affection for her as he led her to the stall. Maple could feel the burning stares of the other ponies as he stroked her hair and pressed a last kiss to her forehead.
“Whatever you need,” he whispered, “I hope you find it. Only two more nights until auction, and then we’ll be done with this. But please, Maple. Be safe. And if anything at all feels off, just yell. I’ll be there for you in a flash. ”
He left her dazzled and dizzy, his words turning like stones in her head. Done with what? Would he quit training other ponies? Why would he think she’d need to yell?
Maple hadn’t considered this prospect before. She’d never given much thought beyond just surviving his training. Which she had, though not in the way she’d hoped. Her war with Brie had stifled her own growth and development.
Or at least as you thought it should happen. Didn’t you hear what he’d said about you? You’re strong. Rachel’s voice ghosted through her mind, melting, until it became her own. He had said that. She was strong, and she felt it.
Tony, Gus, Brie… these had been trials. She’d suffered, felt sorry for herself, let herself feel defeated and broken. But she was still here. Standing. In a few days, she’d have J.B., emerging from the stable his woman, her heart fortified and completely his. But one of those trials wasn’t over.
Brie.
Maple was going to find out exactly what she was up to, and then she’d run to J.B. and tell him everything.
Oh, she knew he’d believe her. But what had the call been about? What if Maple told J.B. now, and he sent Brie away, but damage had already been done? Without knowing what the devious brunette was up to, Maple was afraid she’d be doing more harm than good by telling J.B. now. Besides, she was strong.
Chapter Fifteen
As soon as J.B. left, Brie spoke up. “Well, damn it. You win, Maple.”
Maple’s stomach lurched. She turned toward the brunette pony, unsure of what was happening. “You got the guy. I didn’t think you could do it. And…” she took a deep breath and looked thoroughly ashamed. “And you must not have told on me, because I’m still here. I’ve been nothing but awful to you, and you still didn’t tell.”
What the hell was happening? Brie appeared genuinely remorseful. Maple was left reeling. Was this real? What had the phone call been about? Before she could ask, though, Raúl came in with dinner.
It was a “last supper” of sorts.
Mariela had outdone herself with a chicken in mole sauce, roasted corn in a cilantro and lime infused butter sauce, and-- Maple began to drool-- cinnamon-sugar empanadas filled with cream cheese.
All of the ponies stood, staring at the feast, long after Raúl had dished it out and left. It wasn’t that the food had been bad in the stables. Nothing that came out of Mariela’s kitchen could be labeled “bad.” But it had been fairly uniform, with nothing sweet or as luxurious as real butter.
Maple fingered a still-steaming ear of corn. Obviously J.B. didn’t require them to not use th
eir hands this time, either. She brought it to her mouth, shutting her eyes in delight as the steam burned her lips. Piping-hot food, fresh from the grill, the smells making her whole body lean in closer.
“Wait,” Brie said from behind. She’d snuck into Maple’s stall again.
Maple froze, afraid there was a trick. That she and the girls would power in and eat the food.
Instead, the brunette held out her hand. In the palm was her empanada, the sugar coating Brie’s pale skin like a crystal crust. “I’m sorry. Please, take this.”
“It’s okay, I’ve got one. Enjoy it.”
Brie looked pointedly at Maple’s ribs and hipbones. “That’s my fault. You deserve two. After all, we’re leaving soon. You’re obviously not going up for sale, but I am.” She bit her lip and looked at the floor. “... I’d like to leave knowing I can make better decisions. I came here to try and learn how to not be a bitch. That obviously didn’t work out for me.” Brie laughed bitterly, and placed the empanada in Maple’s trough.
