A Moment of Opportunity (6)

A Moment of Opportunity


How to Gentle a Nervous Pony

Adam and I met for a sandwich in the cafeteria. 

“I promise to take you for a proper lunch on the weekend. We’ll go to the resort café. I want to show you the fancier side of the BCR’s business model. And, of course, you’ll have a prime spot for the pony show on Saturday.

I grinned. “Can’t wait.”

“Did you get to catch a training session this morning?”

I nodded. “Yes. Lorraine and Teagan”

Adam smiled. “Lorraine was a wonderful find. Kamal suggested her, I interviewed her, and by the time I got to see her in action, I had no doubt she’d fit in here.”

“Were you hesitant to hire a woman? Because you deal with ponyboys?

Adam shook his head. “No, not really. Most people involved in extreme kink respect a person in a position of authority over them, regardless if it’s a woman or a man. They get off on the power and the dynamic. The gender of the person wielding that power is often irrelevant.”

“Have you ever had trouble persuading a ponyboy that a female trainer would work for them?”

“Sometimes they’re a little disappointed to find out they haven’t been placed with an alpha male trainer. But once they have their first session with Lorraine, they’re won over to her particular brand of discipline and control.” He smiled.

“Yes, I can certainly appreciate it myself,” I said, recalling what I had seen that morning.

Adam chuckled. “She’s one in a million and I’m keeping her.”

I raised my glass of water. “Here, here.”

When we’d finished eating, Adam stood.

“I must get back to my office. Lots of paperwork to take care of when a new session begins.”

I stood as well and shook his hand. “Thanks for bringing me in. I can already tell this is going to be an incredible assignment.”

“I can already tell you’re going to be up to the challenge, Oliver.”

I glanced at my watch. According to what I’d been told, the afternoon ponyboys would be arriving at the grooming barn right about now. I was sorely tempted to shoot the second set of young men in the showers and getting tacked, but decided to go to my room instead, for a short rest. I’d be shooting Puck and Kamal in the arena or the paddock, and I wanted to preserve my artistic energy for that.

Upstairs, I unplugged my phone from its charger and sent a text to Grif to see if he was available for a phone call. It didn’t take him long to answer.

YES. Just let me close my door. I’m in my office.

Grif worked as a financial consultant at CIBC. Kind of the farthest thing from what I did, but maybe that was why our friendship worked so well. Plus, I had access to free investment advice.

He sent me a thumbs up emoji a moment later and I hit the call button. He didn’t even let it ring fully before he answered.

“Ollie! Hi! Oh my God, how is it? Have you ridden a ponyboy yet? Gotten one to eat sugar out of your hand? Tell me!”

I broke out laughing. “Uh, no. I don’t think they actually put saddles on the ponyboys here. Or ride them.”

“Oh. That’s kind of a bummer.”

“If you say so. And the one ponyboy I’d love to feed sugar cubes to would probably spit in my face if I tried.”

Grif inhaled a sharp breath. “Oooh! Tell me more!”

“Never mind. Anyway, the ranch is fantastic. It’s huge and there are—“

“No, no. Go back to the ponyboy that would spit in your face.”


“What’s his name? I mean his real name, not his pony name. Oh, wait, what’s his pony name? Is it Lightning?”

I sat down on the loveseat and rested my forehead in my hand.

“You’re too much.”

“I’m not the one at a ponyplay fetish ranch who wants to talk about the landscape, my friend.”

“Fine,” I said, hesitating for a moment before I continued. “His name is Puck.”

“That’s his pony name.”

“No, that’s his real name.” I blinked. “Well, I don’t know if it’s his real name, but it’s the name he’s using while he’s here. It’s not his pony name.”

“Cool. What’s his pony name?”

“I don’t know! Jesus, would you let me talk?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I just spent the morning going over financial forecasts with four different clients. Can we please talk about sexy ponyboys?”

“If you shut up, we can.”

“Fine. Zipping it. Go on.”

“Thank you. So, his name is Puck, and I swear he is the sexiest motherfucking thing on two legs at this place.” I grinned, now recalling Kamal’s authority and stature. “Although, his trainer, Kamal, is damn hot also.”

Another loud inhale. “Kamal. Oh my.”

“And knows just how to get Puck to behave himself. Which seems like a pretty big ask, actually.”

“Oh good Lord. A naughty ponyboy? I’m feeling faint. Good thing I’m sitting down.”

“Anyway,” I said, not wanting to talk about Puck anymore because I didn’t want to jinx things. Not that there was anything to jinx at the moment. But, still. “I spent the morning in the grooming barn.”

There was a pause. “The, what now?”

I cleared my throat. “The grooming barn.”

Another pause. “What the fuck is a grooming barn? And, are you serious?”

I laughed. “Yes, I’m serious. It’s a barn where the guys are showered, rubbed all over with a loofa, their cocks put in cages, while they’re bound by their wrists to an overhead rail.”

Grif didn’t say anything, but I heard the creak of his desk chair. “What. What.”

“Mm hmm. It’s something to see. Oh, and then they get tacked into their harnesses and collars, and I know sometimes they get bridles and butt plug horse tails, but I haven’t seen that yet.”

Oh, wait a second. Yes, I did see that. But I wasn’t going to tell Grif what I’d seen in the paddock the day before or he’d probably mess his pants.

He sounded breathless when he replied.

“Oh Lord, Ollie. You’re killing me here. My pants are a little tight.”

“No doubt. Anyway, I got some great photos.”

Anyway, I got some great photos,” he imitated me in a sardonic tone. “Bastard.”

“Oh, come on. Can’t you be happy for me?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

“Uh huh.”

“Suddenly, my life seems so very boring and conservative. I need to up my game.” There was a pause. “Where do they find their trainers?”

“Not at CIBC.”

“Fuck you.”

I laughed. “Fuck you, too. Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’m shooting Puck’s training session this afternoon, and I want to chill for a bit first. It’s been a busy day.”

“Mm hm. You mean you want to enjoy a quick wank.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“I know. I wish I could do the same thing. I officially hate you, by the way. Keep me updated. Please, keep me updated.”

“Sure. Bye.”

We ended the call and I got a glass of water and made sure I had some lube before I sat on the edge of the bed and took myself in hand, recalling the things I’d witnessed this morning and yesterday. It didn’t take long, and I was glad to take the edge off before lying down and trying to read a chapter of the book I’d brought with me.

I couldn’t concentrate, and gave up after ten minutes.


The weather was cooler today. In fact, I had found the outdoors a little chilly that morning, so I grabbed an orange, plaid button-down, and threw it on over my black tank top. I rolled the sleeves up and didn’t button it, using it more as a sweater than a shirt. I’d forgotten to wear my baseball cap earlier, but put it on now, in case Kamal had Puck in the paddock again.

As I approached the arena, I noticed two figures in the nearby corral. When I got close, my heart-rate sped up as I realized who they were.

Kamal. And Puck.

They were in the far corner of the paddock. Kamal stood close behind the young ponyboy, who was tacked in the standard gear–body harness, arm bands, collar, cage and boots.

No tail as of yet, which, to be honest, was a bit of a disappointment.

Kamal leaned close, his hand wrapped around Puck’s wrist, next to the armband which fastened to the one on Puck’s other forearm. He seemed to be speaking to Puck, who nodded occasionally, and concentrated, his brow furrowed.

I kept my distance, as they seemed to be enjoying a private moment. I chose a spot by the nearest fence and busied myself setting up my tripod and camera, which only took a few moments.

When I glanced up, they were in the same position, but Puck’s wide-eyed gaze was on me as he listened to Kamal’s words. 

When my gaze met his, the electric shock of cellular-level recognition hit me like a mack truck. We barely new each other, but there was a biological pull between us, that was for damn sure. Chemistry, attraction, allure, animal magnetism—whatever it was, it left no room for denial. 

My dick, which had become interested upon my spotting of the mostly naked ponyboy, now went full-bore at the same time my gut churned with agitation. The potent current between us even attracted Kamal’s attention, as Puck’s chest rose and fell more quickly and he shifted his feet nervously.

Kamal looked up and followed Puck’s sidelined gaze to me. The intimidating trainer narrowed his eyes, but nodded and lifted a hand in acknowledgement of my presence. 

I gave him a quick salute and returned my gaze to Puck’s. He had turned his head now to watch me. But Kamal said something else that made him wrench his gaze from mine and glare straight ahead, nodding in acquiescence.

Puck seemed determined to behave himself this afternoon and I wasn’t about to disrupt that honourable intention. I’d remain as inconspicuous as possible in order to get the shots I needed, even though my body and mind thrilled to see him being a good little pony.

I hadn’t gotten involved in the kink scene officially, even though I’d been exposed to it through my photography business. It had always fascinated me, though, and I’d encountered enough men who wanted to play casually at power dynamics. Even during my twinky twenties, when I’d yet to fill out and most men assumed I was a die-hard bottom, I’d discovered a natural inclination to dominate. Bottoming didn’t automatically indicate submission, and over the past five years I’d discovered the joys of topping. I considered myself a switch, now, with my preferences fairly evenly distributed.

So as I watched Kamal step back and give Puck a hearty slap to the backside, which propelled the ponyboy into a jerky trot, I felt an equal desire to fuck, and to be fucked, by this beautiful creature. 

I didn’t care one way or the other. I’d take what he had to offer.

But I knew I had to have him.

And now that I was here, at The Braided Crop Ranch, in this heady environment where domination and submission was the entire point, I couldn’t help a gut wrenching need to explore the dynamic in ways I never had before.

Over the next thirty minutes, I watched Kamal put Puck through his paces, and took dozens of photos of them working together. Puck seemed determined to perform to Kamal’s satisfaction, and although I caught occasional glimpses of the contrary attitude I’d witnessed previously, he tamped it down and gave it his all. 

Kamal was pleased with him, and when they finished an extensive lesson on form and comportment, the trainer brought his ponyboy closer to where I stood so I could get some better shots and hear the praise he doled out.

“Very good, Puck. I’m so pleased with you today. You’ve done incredibly well and I’m happy to reward you for your hard work.”

As I looked at the viewer I realized what Kamal meant by that innocent-sounding comment.

My gaze flew to find Puck’s. We locked onto each other as Kamal’s fingers deftly unlatched the cage around the ponyboy’s swollen tackle.

It was different from watching Lorraine and Teagan. Because this was Puck, the ponyboy who made my heart race to see step out of the bunkhouse and do nothing but piss into the grass.

Now, as Kamal freed his cock, Puck kept his gaze on me and lifted his chin as if to say, ‘Yeah, you want me? Can’t have me right now, but you can watch me get jerked off into the dirt.’.

Fuck. My shorts tightened as Kamal pulled a rubber glove from the pocket of his jeans and put it on, then added lube from a pump bottle near the fence. As he rubbed the slick substance on his fingers, he glanced at me and grinned.

I started to feel lightheaded and wondered if I should leave. Maybe this would be too much for me.

“Aren’t you going to take some photos, Oliver? I thought that’s what you came for.”

Ah fuck.

I was standing there beside my expensive photographic gear, staring wide-eyed at Puck, completely oblivious to the purpose at hand.

“Oh. Yes. Of course. Yes. Sorry.”

I cleared my throat and fumbled in my bag for my handheld, feeling like I should move closer but terrified Kamal would notice how this was affecting me. By the time I’d got sorted out and approached them, Kamal had moved in behind Puck and slung a powerful arm across the ponyboy’s chest, keeping him steady, as he lazily jerked his cock with his gloved hand. Puck’s head lay on Kamal’s shoulder, his eyes shut and his lips slightly parted, as if he’d completely given up fighting the man and decided to willingly surrender to his dominance.

At least for today.

“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath as I raised my camera and started getting the shots I needed–close-ups of Kamal’s thick bicep against Puck’s heaving chest; the ponyboy’s bare legs framed by Kamal’s clothed ones; and, Puck’s bare ass pressed against Kamal’s clothed groin. The juxtaposition of their bodies was beautiful and almost poetic.

The noises that came from Puck’s throat sent tremors through me as my dick ached and heart pounded. And Kamal’s hushed commentary was just as arousing.

“Good boy. That’s it. Relax, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to make you feel good.”

Puck whimpered as I took photo bursts of Kamal’s skilled hand job. When he groaned with sudden volume I made the mistake of glancing up, to find his dark gaze on me, as Kamal kept his movements slow and steady. The trainer wasn’t making this quick, but extending the ponyboy’s pleasure at the same time as he made him wait for release.

My mouth dry, I held Puck’s gaze for several moments, then turned back to the viewer. I wanted to capture the moment of release, when it happened. The money shot, so to speak.

My heart beat fast and sweat gathered on my neck, but it was too late to take off the plaid shirt. I swallowed thickly as I crouched on one knee with my camera aimed at the action.

Puck began to squirm as he got closer to his orgasm, trying to push his cock into Kamal’s tight hand at the rhythm he craved. But Kamal held him still and continued his slow, steady tease. Puck whimpered and gasped, his struggles becoming more desperate. Kamal’s arm strained to keep him still and the older man’s lips pressed together with determination as he murmured soft reassurances into Puck’s ear.

Finally, when I thought the poor kid would scream from frustration, Puck stiffened and a stuttering wail erupted from his throat, as semen gushed over Kamal’s moving hand.

“Good boy, that’s a good boy, so very good, Puck, that’s so good.”

If I’d been closer to Puck’s age I probably would have creamed my jeans at the sight of this. Instead I used the monumental will I’d gained from so many years of practice, and locked my desire down, continuing to take photos as Puck sagged against his trainer and shuddered through the remnants of his orgasm.

Kamal held him until Puck regained his energy and stood stiffly, cheeks flaming with embarrassment as he tried to avoid my gaze.

Kamal peeled off his soiled glove.

“Oliver, I’m going inside for a moment. Can you keep an eye on him? I’m sure he won’t be any trouble,” Kamal said.

“Uh, sure. I’ll stay right here,” I said, watching Kamal walk past and out the gate.

Acting on sudden impulse, I lifted the camera and took a burst of shots of Kamal from behind as he strode toward the arena with a the soiled glove clutched in one hand.

As I lowered my camera, I watched Kamal for a few more seconds before turning to meet Puck’s challenging gaze. He stood there, spent and satisfied, with a scowl on his face and lines in the skin of his forehead. He was still the most beautiful thing on two legs.

I shrugged and smiled. “He’s hot.” But nothing compared to you.

Puck’s eyes narrowed and he snorted, sounding like a real pony for a second.

“If you like bossy assholes who use their power against you.”

His comment sounded ridiculous in the circumstances and I couldn’t help laughing.

“What did you think you were gonna get at a pony play ranch? A pushover?”

He nodded, cheeks darkening. “Fine. Yeah, sure. Laugh at me. I know you think I’m stupid.”

That sobered me, and quickly. 

“Puck. What?”

He squirmed, like he wanted to leave but knew he had to wait here for Kamal and if he didn’t, he’d be in major trouble that he probably didn’t want to think about.

“I mean, what kind of guy would want to do this, right?” he muttered, gazing at the paddock around him as if it were full of refuse.

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

He glared at me.

I continued. “I think that any man worth his salt, would give alot to be standing in your shoes.” My gaze drifted along his body to his scuffed Docs. “Boots,” I corrected.

He didn’t say anything, but his gaze very deliberately roamed over my body and back to my eyes. “Would you?

I felt my cheeks heat. Would I? I didn’t know what to say, so I took off my baseball cap and slapped it against my thigh. The sound made Puck jump. Which was more telling than anything I’d seen so far.

He covered his startle with a sneer, though, and repeated his question.

“Would you?”


“Yeah, right.”

I stared at him, wondering how long Kamal was going to be. I felt abandoned and put on the spot. But maybe I should take advantage of the privacy we had.

“I’d be open to trying it,” I said.

“Awesome. Next time I see Adam, I’ll let him know that our expert photographer wants to try life as a ponyboy.”

“I’d rather be a trainer,” I said slowly, glancing to see if Kamal was making his way back yet, but there was no sign of him. 

Puck to see him watched me, his eyes bright with interest. I moved carefully, cautiously, closer, as if he were a wild horse and not a human ponyboy on his way to being domesticated.

He held my gaze as I got closer. I stopped in front of him.

“I’d rather be your trainer,” I said, lifting my hand slowly. I held it in the air near his face, waiting for a sneer or a curse or even a wad of angry spit. 

He glanced at it briefly, then returned his gaze to mine and remained still as I lowered my fingers to his head. I stroked my fingers over his dark locks as he closed his eyes and sighed, like the weight of a thousand tons had been removed.

“I think you’re beautiful,” I said, savouring his perfect bone structure and pale skin spattered with lovely brown beauty marks. 

He said nothing as he stood beneath my touch. He kept his eyes closed, but his chest rose and fell with quickening breaths.

I leaned in and placed a soft, chaste kiss against his cheek. He turned his face enough to press his against my lips and expose his neck, as if asking for more, when a throat cleared nearby. We jerked apart.

I stepped back and gazed apologetically at Kamal. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Kamal’s expression was one of pleased surprise. He only shook his head. 

“It’s quite all right. I told you to watch him. I just didn’t think you’d watch him quite that closely.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I couldn’t help it.”

Kamal grinned and gestured to Puck who stared at the ground and scowled.

“I completely understand. For such a contrary ponyboy, he’s astonishingly beautiful.”

Puck snorted and scuffed at the dirt with his boot.

“Good luck,” Kamal laughed and raised his eyebrows, shaking his head at me.

“Thanks,” I muttered, retreating to pack up my gear.

I was officially done for the day. I needed to get some space, re-assemble my thoughts and emotions, and decide what the hell I was going to do now.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s