by Penny Lam
“Whoa, Kendra, whoa.” Despite the pain and wound, Kendra had kept trying to gallop.
Stuttering to a stop, Kendra stood. Her back was still straight. Large, bared breasts were heaving from the run, nipples tight. The pony girl’s entire body quaked and tears were streaming down her face, but she made no more noise. She didn’t move.
J.B. approached her, his voice low. “Good girl. We need to keep workin’ on that. Men like stamina in their ponies, right?”
She stamped once.
“Yeah, you know. Now let’s get you back, and Maple’ll help you out.” Hearing her name, Maple went quickly over to Kendra’s empty stall.
He led the pony girl slowly to her stall, taking her in and tethering her there. J.B.’s hand smacked the girl’s ass, just below the welt from the whip. Kendra’s eyes squeezed tight, fresh tears spilling. J.B.’s face barely registered the slap, his eyes already moving on to the next stall, the next girl.
“Maple!” He barked. “Clean her and rub her down. Then get back to the others. You need to pick up the pace.”
The criticism wasn’t unfair-- she had been moving slowly-- and Maple felt shame. But she was also frustrated. This wasn’t how she’d pictured this going.
How did you think this was going to go? Did you think he’d just slip a bridle on your face and his cock in your pussy?
Tony’s voice. Her ragged subconscious had taken on his personality. It enjoyed her stumbles, her humiliation. It relished reminding her of who and what she was. And what she was, was a person trying to decide if she should be relieved that J.B. seemed so detached from his pony girls or horrified by it.
At least when Tony had been with her, he’d never treated her indifferently. If J.B. wasn’t interested in the women in the stable, Maple should be glad. But if he was able to remove himself so much from the process--
“Christ, Maple, get back to work or get out of here. If you’re going to help, help Kendra. Now.”
J.B. left the stall and went to fetch another pony.
Kendra stared at Maple, and Maple stared back, evaluating. It was clear that they were both doing their part for J.B.-- not each other. Still, Maple couldn’t help but notice how Kendra was trembling, still trying to catch her breath. Her long blond hair was disheveled and plastered to her forehead and neck.
“Okay, I’m going to get you some water,” Maple mumbled. She went to find a cup, but couldn’t. There were leather bags, though, that had been treated to make them water resistant. Loops ran from the sides with carabiners attached.
Oh.
She filled the bag with water and brought it back to Kendra’s stall. Moving slowly, she clipped the carabiners to the steel rings of her face harness. The pony girl’s face was hidden, but soon the sounds of heavy slurping came from the bag.
While Kendra drank, Maple went to get her other supplies ready. Just like with the real horses she tended to in the other stable, Maple knew it was important to get everything together at once.
On the ground next to Kendra she put out a clean bucket filled with warm water and soap, a hair brush, and a towel. In all her searching Maple hadn’t seen any other grooming tools.
Once set up, she touched Kendra’s shoulder to let her know she was there. Slowly easing off the water bag and setting it aside, Maple looked at the bridle and bit.
The bridle was a dark, soft leather, well broken in. Its thick bands circled under Kendra’s jaw, above her ears, and connected together with a cinch at the crown of her head. Two large steel rings, one on each cheek, were used for reigns, the water bag, or whatever else was needed. The bit was attached to the bridle.
The bit was black and rubber. Maple was startled by how large it was. Kendra’s teeth clamped down on it, but it was shoved far back, stretching her mouth wide and looking incredibly uncomfortable. With it in, it was impossible for the pony to speak.
It reminded Maple too much of the gag Tony had used on her in the BDSM club. He hadn’t used it to turn her on. He’d used it to keep her from telling him no.
Hands shaking, Maple quickly undid the cinch at the back of the neck. She eased the leather bridle off of Kendra’s head, working the bit from the pony girl’s mouth. Slimey, the silicone bit slid into Maple’s hand.
Without thinking, her other hand went to Kendra’s hair, stroking gently. “Good girl,” she crooned softly, the way she would for Bonnie or Mesa.
Kendra flinched from the touch, and Maple froze.
For a moment, the woman had become a horse for Maple. The mannerisms, the environment-- it was all so convincing. Without J.B.’s distraction, Maple had gotten lost in the job. Might as well, if she was going to keep working with J.B., it meant not just doing the job, but doing it well.
These women had paid substantially to be treated like a horse. Despite her unease, that’s what Maple would do.
“Okay, girl, time for a scrub down,” Maple added cheerfully.
Grabbing a large loofah from the soapy water, Maple started washing Kendra’s body. The soap suds slid down in slow trickles, dripping off her hard nipples. The pony girl shivered beneath Maple’s touch. Washing in large, slow circles, Maple cleaned Kendra’s neck, her back, her tummy. She took extra care with the slice left from the whip, making sure it was clean. The soothing strokes worked. Kendra stilled and then relaxed under Maple’s hand.
Maple marveled at the process. The smooth, creamy skin shone through, free from the sweat and grime of training. It was still awkward; this was another woman’s body, the actions were foreign to Maple. She knew she needed to wash all of Kendra. The pony girl was already starting to fidget.
In her mind, Maple pictured she was the pony. That her hands were J.B.’s. He was caring for her washing her after training. The loofah started to move. Maple pictured J.B. washing achingly slow circles on her breasts, lifting them, massaging them clean. He took the loofah and slid it lower. His foot kicked her legs apart.
The rough sponge slid between her legs, wetting a pussy that was already drenched with arousal. In her fantasy, J.B. spent extra time here, moving the textured loofah around and around her clit, grinding it into her.
A tight grip stopped the fantasy. Maple’s eyes opened, and Kendra’s thighs were clamped on her hand. The pony girl’s eyes were rolling in ecstasy, her hips bucking slightly as she came.
Not ready to think too much about what was happening, Maple moved the sponge as much as she could, helping to drag Kendra’s climax out.
Her body was on fire from the fantasy with J.B., but Maple found herself watching Kendra’s release with clinical detachment. A ragged, weak whinny escaped Kendra’s lips. When she looked at Maple, her eyes were fogged and dream-like.
Shaken by what she’d done, Maple quickly finished the sponge bath. The most difficult part was Kendra’s hair. The soap cleaned it, but it wasn’t like shampoo or conditioner. Maple felt the angry hairs grow coarser as she scrubbed. She had Kendra lean over as she dunked the hair in the water, rinsing it as best she could.
“You need to do that in the shower area next time.” Maple jumped. J.B. was behind her, his body blacking out the light, smothering her with his shadow. “And it shouldn’t take so long, either. Next horse is up.”
“But I still need to, um, take her tail out?”
A glint in his eyes. “Are you askin’ me or tellin’?”
Jesus, he made her burn. She was uncomfortably horny from her fantasy. It mixed with the power of what she’d done to Kendra. She’d been in charge of the woman’s release. She’d been the provider of it--
It was a potent mix, and when struck with his dark, mirthful teasing about her flustered reply, she ignited.
“I’m doing both, I guess. Which pony is next?”
“Leslie. Then Jessica, Eden, and Ashley. That’s the order I train in, that’s the order you’ll groom them. And be fucking quicker about it, Maple, or there will be a consequence.”
She nodded, shoving back the errant blond locks that had fallen forward out of he
r face. “Okay.”
Quickly, she took the towel and firmly dried Kendra off. She threw it on the floor, hoping to mop up some of the mess she’d made. Next, she brushed Kendra’s hair. It was a struggle to be gentle. The soap had done her no favors, nor the vigorous rub down with the towel.
It was time for the tail.
Anal was nothing new to Maple. Tony had been sure to use her in every orifice, many times. In fact, his favorite game was to place a plug in her ass and then fuck her in her pussy, making her feel full and owned by him.
Owned.
That’s what the tails were, really. Not just an accessory to create a full pony look. Maple knew that the training would be doubly hard with the tail’s dildo shifting in the women’s asses. Knowing that made her sympathetic.
It also made her crave it.
The brush slowly transformed the tail from knotted to smooth. There was nothing else to do with Kendra. It was time to put her big girl panties on and do her job.
Gripping the tail firmly at the base, Maple placed her other hand on Kendra’s lower back and bent her over. The woman’s skin pebbled under Maple’s fingertips. Was this what J.B. felt? These minute, instant responses to his touch?
Slowly, so slowly, she twisted and pulled, easing the plug out. It was stainless steel. The base was the hardest part, resistant to her steady pulls. As soon as it was free, though, the plug popped out.
Maple stood, face burning, holding the tail. In front of her, Kendra’s hole clenched, as if begging her to put it back in.
Instead, Maple turned from her, unable to look at the woman anymore. She thrust the steel plug into the pail of disinfectant. She hurried to make sure the stall was in order so she could get out and get away from the job she’d done.
Hay fluffed, water hung so Kendra could get it, everything straightened and put away.
Maple’s body was exhausted. She’d already put in eight hours at the horse stable. Now she was two hours into her night with J.B. and the pony girls, and she was only one pony down. All she wanted was to curl up in bed, think of J.B. while she finished herself off, and try to sleep. Not that she’d be able to, with the visions of what she was seeing and learning fighting for supremacy in her head.
Four more stalls. Four more baths and grooming.
Four more tails.
Trying her hardest to ignore the echoing commands J.B. was issuing to Jessica, she went to grab Leslie and start over.
Chapter Three
Her body ached. It was reminiscent of her second day on the ranch. At the time, her body hadn’t been used to the care of five horses and their home. Now she was in charge of ten, five of which made her uncomfortable and jealous.
Early dawn light was sneaking through her blinds, dotting her bedspread and reaching fingers to her face, waking her.
Maple pulled the covers over her head.
All in all, it had taken her just over five hours to do the stable, with J.B. criticizing her speed and sloppiness the entire time. He was a slave driver, working the pony girls until they shook and panted, their nostrils flaring as they snorted deep breaths. He worked Maple just as hard, checking over the job she was doing and never hesitating to tell her just how much she was fucking up.
Always with the promise of a consequence if she couldn’t get her act together.
He made her head spin. J.B. had said, over and over, that they’d never be together. It was hard for Maple not to be critical of herself. Sure, he’d said that he needed to keep business and pleasure separate. But that was a shitty excuse and left her wondering which parts of her he didn’t want. Maybe it was all of her. Maybe he saw how damaged she was and was smart enough to run.
Except that wasn’t what it felt like. As he watched her, berated her, threatened her… it felt like he was taking some pleasure in it. There was something in his voice, the way it dropped lower, the hint of growl, that made his criticisms sound sultry.
Like he wanted her to screw up.
Like a consequence would mean something more.
Maple bit her lip and groaned. She was already running late and there wasn’t time for her usual obsessive need to try and break apart every interaction, searching for clues that probably weren’t there.
She didn’t have time to shower. She’d slept in her clothes. Feeling dingy, she changed and threw her hair into a ponytail. It was getting longer, swishing between her shoulder blades.
At some point she’d need to get it cut. Yet another thing she’d never considered when taking on this job. Though there hadn’t really been time for consideration. J.B. was a force of nature who’d plucked her from her home and dropped her into his stable.
And not the one she wanted to be in, currently.
In the kitchen, Mariela had breakfast ready. Raúl’s sister had long, shimmering black hair. It would fall in waves if she wore it down, but she never did. Like Raúl, there was something youthful about her face. Apple cheeks, a curvy body, and lush lips made her beautiful. Maple knew her eyes, though, didn’t match up.
Like many Latinas, Mariela’s eyes were expressive-- an open doorway to her soul. Mariela was haunted. Raúl had confided in Maple, telling her how he and his sister had been orphaned. J.B.’s father had taken them in. While Raúl only remembered being on the ranch, Mariela had been old enough to remember their parents.
On the table were eggs doused in a salsa verde with tiny chunks of pulled pork on top. Corn tortillas, still hot from the griddle, were stacked next to it. Maple helped herself to a breakfast taco, piling the eggs, pork, and salsa into a tortilla and hungrily taking a bite.
The steam-heat stung her tongue and the roof of her mouth, searing it, but the rich, protein-laden tastes more than made up for the pain. It was good. Maple hadn’t realized how hungry she’d been until the taco was devoured in three bites, and she was already fixing another.
“Coffee?”
“Yesh pleash,” Maple said, mouth full of the next spicy, hearty bite.
A steaming mug was placed next to her, along with a much needed napkin. The tomatillo-based salsa was dripping out of the tortilla and down Maple’s wrist and forearm. She ignored the napkin, though, shoving the last bite into her mouth and bringing her arm up to lick the trail of salsa.
“That’s what I like to see in the morning, Belleza,” Raúl teased as he entered the kitchen. “A fine woman’s tongue hard at work.”
His sister swatted him with a towel, and Maple blushed, grabbing the napkin to finish the job her tongue had started. “I’m just so hungry. It was a long day yesterday.”
At that, both of their faces faces darkened. Mariela turned from her and started grabbing pots and pans, making a loud clatter.
Confused, Maple started to get up to help, but Raúl signaled ‘no.’ Instead, he beckoned to her to follow him outside.
Quickly making one last to-go taco and grabbing the mug of coffee, Maple followed him out the door. Crisp morning air greeted her, biting at her exposed cheeks and fingers. She ate her taco and walked beside Raúl toward the barn.
“What’th the mather with her?” Maple gulped down the last of her breakfast and wiped her hand on her jeans.
Raúl dragged a hand through his hair. “Why do I always end up speaking for other people to you?” He half-joked, voice tight.
“Because no one else is comfortable with me.” Maple hated that it was true. Mariela, Tim, and Jones were pleasant enough to her. But after the night she’d snuck into J.B.’s stable, there had been distance between them and Maple. A wariness she didn’t know how to bridge.
“It isn’t that they’re not comfortable with you--” Maple raised an eyebrow at Raúl, and he laughed. “Okay, yeah, they’re uncomfortable. We just had a solid thing going, and you came along and changed everything. No one knows what’s happening anymore.”
“I didn’t change everything. I know now, and I’m keeping everyone’s secrets safe.”
“Don’t forget you have a secret, too, Belleza.” Like she ever could. �
�And I know. You are. You can’t see the changes, though. J.B. has never let anyone work with him in the other stable. Trust me, we’ve asked.”
She tripped, reaching to grab his elbow to keep from crashing to her knees. “All of you?”
“No, not Tim and Jones. They know and don’t much care. They’re all cattle, not much interest in horses, if you know what I mean. Plus, Tim’s married and has kids. I don’t think his wife would appreciate it much.”
“So you asked,” she teased. “Big surprise there.”
His voice lowered. “And Mariela. She asked. J.B. said no.”
Maple’s breath caught. Mariela had asked? Why in the world had the cook wanted to work in the stables? Briefly, Maple considered that the other woman might feel the same way for J.B. as she did. It wouldn’t be difficult to believe. With his quiet, dangerous swagger and demanding personality, J.B. was hard to resist.
