Tethered (The Stables Trilogy #2) (2 page)

Since he was working with Kendra, Maple chose another stall. It was Leslie, the pony that J.B. had introduced to her to prove he wasn’t as evil as she’d thought. The brunette tried to pay Maple little attention, but Maple caught her darting glances as she set about the stall.

All in all, there were five pony girls. Maple remembered the contract. Each one of these women had paid J.B. one hundred thousand dollars to be locked up and trained. He’d make a profit off selling them as well. The application fee was more money than she’d ever seen in her life.

Maple wasn’t sure where to start in the stall. In the end, she opted for doing the filthiest tasks first and move on to the easier. That meant cleaning buckets, mucking, and then grooming. Of course, she knew she also was just stalling on the grooming. J.B. had managed to touch the women with such indifference.

Maple wasn’t sure it would be the same for her.

Gathering her courage and a wheelbarrow, she started her new job as stable hand in the most fucked up stable in the universe.

Chapter Two

The pails in each stall were rank. Maple gagged several times while collecting the buckets of excrement. She supposed buckets were better than the floor and hay that she was used to with horses. But horse manure and human filth felt drastically different.

With her wheelbarrow filled with carefully placed buckets, Maple made her way to the back of the stable. Tucked in a corner was a small tiled area with a hose and a large floor drain. Slowly, because the thought of splash-back almost made Maple vomit, she dumped the contents down the drain.

The smell was atrocious.

Maple was, somehow, grateful for it. The work was disgusting, and it made her glad. Disgusting meant she couldn’t think about J.B. It helped her tune out his yelled demands and the sounds of Kendra’s moans and cries.

“Walk!”

Crack
!

“No, goddamnit, bring those knees up.”

Crack
!

“Trot. I want to see those tits bouncing. You want a rich Master? You want a home? Wealth? Then fucking earn it, Kendra! Back Arched! Tits out! Trot. Trot!”

The smack of leather on skin rang out again and again. J.B. drove Kendra hard. Maple looked over as she soaped and rinsed the buckets. Kendra was doing her best to trot. Her body was awkward. Her back was rigid, her chin in the air. Her nostrils were flaring from exertion.

Up and down her legs were patches of red. As the riding crop flicked down, snapping Kendra’s calf, Maple saw the pink bloom immediately in its wake.

Kendra’s eyes rolled, and she keened around her bit.

“Kendra! Do horses cry out? No, they fucking don’t. So shut up and keep trotting!”

Maple’s pussy clenched. J.B. was walking backward beside Kendra. His eyes were narrowed and focused on her feet, her legs. In one hand he led her with her reins. In the other the riding crop was raised, poised and ready to correct.

Which he did. Often.

Maple began putting the pails back into stalls when J.B.ordered Kendra to gallop. He released her reins. As she did an awkward, quick skip in a tight circle, he moved to the wall with his own tools and switched the crop with a bullwhip.

Kendra’s step faltered when she saw it.

J.B. took his hat off and sat it on the desk. The whip unfurled, slithering to the ground.

“Kendra, keep it up for two minutes, starting now.” There was a promise in his voice that sent shivers through Maple. She slowed her mucking, wanting to see what happened.

The ‘gallop’ was a brutal pace. Not quite running, it required Kendra to move almost sideways. The back leg launched and stepped up to where her front foot had been. The front foot hurled forward, marking the next step. Back to front, front forward, back to front.

The muscles in Kendra’s legs were working hard, the skin stretched taut and showed off her lithe and powerful form.

But two minutes was a long time to keep up the pace, and Kendra began to slow. Sweat was pouring off her naked body.

She stumbled again, and the whip’s song pierced the air.

A whip’s song is like thunder: it comes after the strike. Kendra was already howling when Maple heard the crack. A thin red line appeared on Kendra’s lower back, growing until Maple realized the woman was bleeding.

“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 her 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.