Tethered (The Stables Trilogy #2) (3 page)

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.

“Why?”

“You’d have to ask her. But I wouldn’t-- she’s a little sore over him letting you help. So try and be a little more careful, okay? You never want to piss off the cook!” He chuckled after that, and they laughed as they went into the stable.

Maple grabbed Mesa and had her saddled and ready for Raúl in a heartbeat. Heaving, he slung a leg over and settled in the saddle. The cows were heavily pregnant and would be birthing in only another month or two, so it took him longer to help them move around. It’d be a long day for Raúl.

And you. Don’t forget that you have a second job now.

As she began to clean out Mesa’s stall, she thought about the night before. Most of the pony girls had been indifferent to her grooming. There hadn’t been a repeat of what had happened with Kendra. By moving the women to the tiled shower area, they were in full view of the other ponies and J.B.

And J.B. watched. Often.

Maple paused what she was doing and pressed her face against the wood wall in Mesa’s stall. The rough surface scratched at her cheek. It smelled like pine and horse. J.B. had broken in one of these stalls. The one time Maple had seen a crack in his monumental composure. In one of these stalls he’d taken Maple, hard, fucking her .

Jesus, she wanted him. The way he was with the ponies-- she wanted that. She wanted that and more. Maple could picture the violent passion he’d unleashed that one time mixed with the stern, exacting training he showcased with the ponies.

It would be heaven. It would be hell. She’d happily fall into both, so long as he was her Master.

The hardest part was knowing--
knowing
-- for certain that he had feelings for her, too. The definition of those feelings was unknown, but J.B. admitted that Maple did something to him.

There was a dangerous appeal to the idea of trying to seduce him. The risk was so great; it wasn’t just being fired. Maple was only twenty-three. She had so much of her life ahead of her. It would be empty, hollow, without J.B., because she’d never find another man like him. One so perfectly suited to her. That thought was so bone-chillingly horrible that she didn’t act on the idea.

Yet.

Maple wasn’t sure she could keep herself hidden from him forever. Her needs would overpower her, she knew. They had before with Tony, and she’d given of herself so recklessly and so foolishly that it had scarred her forever.

J.B. could do more than scar her. She felt it in her marrow.

Work called to her. It didn’t erase her thoughts completely. But Maple could throw herself into it so fully that it could numb them. Each day was the same. Yet each day was different, too. Because each day the work got a little easier. Her muscles grew stronger.

Maple felt almost fully recovered from the snakebite now. Sometimes she still slept so hard and so deep that the vivid dreams became a claw that held her down, half-paralyzed by sleep and fear. But on the whole, she knew that her body was healed.

Her work also became more efficient. She shaved hours from tending both the horses and the girls. As soon as she ceased to hesitate, she excelled. The time was saved because she learned. She learned each girl like she’d learned each horse. Their likes and dislikes. Which one was ornery (Ashley) and which one was compliant (Kendra). Now she breezed through the second stable.

She also made improvements. Real shampoo and conditioner helped make taking care of their hair easier and aided in their appearance. Coconut oil for their skin. Under Maple’s care, they went from beautiful to stunning.

It was strange for her. The routine. The fact that she
had
a routine in that stable. One that involved dildo tails, trimming fingernails and toes, and soaping down other women’s bodies.

There hadn’t been any repeats of what had happened with Kendra. Though, friendly pony that she was, it wasn’t for lack of trying. The petite blond routinely tried to get Maple to aid her in relieving the “tension” that came from working with J.B. It was a private joke with no words, both of them smiling as Maple dodged Kendra’s devious movements.

Somehow, Maple had managed to become jaded to the pony girls. No, that wasn’t right. She was continually awed by them. Their grace, their patience, and their determination.

She was awed by them, and oh, did she envy them. But one can become immune to almost anything if they endure it long enough. Now, taking care of the girls wasn’t something she had to will herself to get through.

The only thing she was suffering through was J.B.’s complete disregard for her. He truly treated her as just another stable hand. Which, she supposed, she was. It was hard, though. Agonizing.

Each night she went to work with the pony girls. Each night she listened to him commanding them. Dominating them. His gravel voice was designed by God for this, it seemed. Every demand was a shiver down her spine, a quiver in her belly, a rush of blood to her pussy. J.B. would bark his orders, training and punishing the ponies, and Maple would listen, her body reacting, wishing desperately that it was her he was focused on.

The training process itself consumed her interest. It surprised her how little pain was used on a regular basis. Most of the time he used a riding crop, merely flicking it at legs and buttocks to