Reparations (12)



A Change of Attitude

We did meet the next night. And the next. And then Puck had to take a break because, between the horse-tail butt plug and the pounding I was giving him every day, he was getting a little sore.

“Kamal saw me wince when he put the plug in and he questioned me about it. I implied it was only his rough treatment making me sore, but I think he knew there was more to it. He didn’t make me wear it, anyway. Which I was very thankful for.”

We had met at the bunkhouse and walked to the lake, and swum out to the dock in the moonlight. The water felt heavenly cool and crisp on my skin after the humidity of the day. We’d goofed around in the water, laughing like eight-year-olds and trying to dunk each other. Finally, we’d climbed onto the platform and now lay on our backs, staring up at the stars.

“When did you first realize you were gay, Oliver?” Puck asked, reaching down to take my hand and stroke his finger over my skin.

I turned my head to look at him because Puck, naked and wet in the moonlight, was a sight to behold. His pale skin shone in the silver light and the beads of water on his shoulders glistened like promises.

“Oh, I don’t know. Seventh grade, I think? You?”

Puck laughed. “In the womb? No, really, I think I always knew. I was drawn to girls as friends, not sexual partners.” He shuddered. “Yeah, no.”

“Is your family okay with it?”

“Sure. It was like they always knew, too. I’m not sure how, because I don’t think I’m girly. Do you think I’m girly?” he met my gaze and raised the eyebrow with the barbell in it.

“Well, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with femboys. But you don’t strike me as being one.”

“Hmm. That sounds like a challenge.”

My gaze drifted along his slim, sleekly muscled body. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d rock a plaid skirt and some thigh-highs.”

He laughed. “Fuck. You know I look fabulous in anything I put on.”

“Oh, do I ever,” I said with a smile, twining our fingers together. “Especially the ropes.”

“That was fun. I liked it.”

I grinned. “I could tell.”

Puck met my gaze. “Did you?” he asked, grinning, because he knew that fucking answer.

“I loved it. So much.”

We gazed at each other for a long time, until Puck’s smile faded and he turned back to the vista of tiny lights above us.

“I think…I think I want to call Elijah.”

I waited several moments to see if he had more to say. 

He continued. “But I really don’t want to call him from the front room or the washroom,” he murmured, glancing at me.

“You want to use my room? I’m sure Adam wouldn’t mind.”

Puck sat up halfway. “Would that be okay?”

“Sure. I’ll let you in and then disappear for a bit. No problem.”

He blinked quickly then brushed at his face with the back of his hand. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” He stayed propped on his elbow for a bit, then rolled himself over and climbed on top of me. He put his hands on either side of my shoulders, supporting himself on the wooden planks.

“How come you’re so nice to me?” he said, gazing down, his damp hair falling forward. He shook his head and showered me with water droplets.

His sudden move had surprised me and I didn’t know what to say. I decided to go for humour.

“Because you have a great ass. Looks good with a tail in it.”

Puck grinned. “Most of these guys have nice asses.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

He raised his eyebrows. 

I slid my hands along his sides and cupped the globes of his absolutely perfect behind.

“I only like this one.” 

I lifted my hand and gave that ass cheek a firm slap that shoved Puck against me in a wonderful way and caused the muscle to jiggle. It also made his firming dick push against my stomach. His eyes fluttered shut for a second and, when they opened, the pupils had blown wide and dark.

“Oh, Oliver. You’ve started something now,” he said softly, his gaze floating over my face like he was trying to memorize it.

“Good,” I breathed, gazing up at him like he was the brightest star in the sky. His beauty was blinding.

“Fuck,” he cursed, then kissed me softly and moaned against my lips. 

I encircled him with my arms and nudged his pretty mouth open, so I could delve into his warm, wet depths, while my cock filled and strained against his thigh. I groaned and thrust against him.

“Oh, Puck.”

“Nope. You can’t fuck me, Oliver. I’m too sore.”

“I don’t want to fuck you.”

He pulled back and lifted an eyebrow. “What? Why not?”

I laughed at his wounded expression.

“Because I love this. I could do this all night.”

I pressed against him again, and he shoved his cock against my hip, grinning.

“Yeah, okay. That’s true.”

“I don’t even want to come. I just want to feel this way forever,” I murmured, astonishingly content.

He kissed me again, and we lay together and made out like teenagers, until the muggy heat and relentless mosquitos forced us into the water again. 

Finally, we headed for shore, got mostly dressed and walked hand-in-hand back to the bunkhouse, where I kissed Puck good night and returned to my lonely room, floating on the oppressively humid air.


I spoke to Adam about letting Puck use my room to call his friend, and Adam said that was fine. So, after Puck’s morning ponyboy session the next day, he met me on the porch and went to get his phone.

He checked his emails as soon as we got to my room.

“Oh. Elijah’s parents have brought him home. Maybe things are looking better,” Puck said. He flipped about on his phone for a few minutes, then asked if he could use my shower, since he’d only gotten a quick hose-down in the grooming barn.

“Yeah, of course.”

I tried going over some of the images I’d posted to my computer while he was in there, but it was difficult to concentrate knowing that Puck was naked and soapy and right the fuck there. But I was an adult and didn’t act on my impulses. He probably needed to psyche himself up for this phone call.

After what seemed like eons, he returned to the main part of the room, fully dressed, with damp, tousled hair that made my heart ache. He looked so vulnerable and delicate, his forehead creased with concern.

“Do you think I’m making the right decision?” he said. “What if I call and it just makes me feel worse? Or, what if it makes Elijah feel worse? What if he’s sleeping and I disturb him?”


“Maybe I should just wait and see him when I get home.”

I was silent for a moment, and then put my words together very carefully. 

“I think…that Elijah will probably be very glad to hear from you.”

Puck nodded, avoiding my gaze. “But what if I say all the wrong things? I’m no good at this stuff, Oliver.” He picked up his phone and turned it on. Then put it to sleep and returned it to the table. “Fuck. I don’t know.”

I stood from my chair, going over and gently pulling him against me, holding him tight to give him what encouragement I could offer. His arms wrapped around me in an automatic gesture that made me disproportionately happy. 

“You’ll do fine. He’ll be glad to hear your voice.”

Puck nodded and took a deep breath. “Right.”

I released him and grabbed my keys. “I’ll be back in a half hour. Make yourself at home. You can lay on the bed if you want.” 

I lifted the corner of my mouth and winked, taking hold of the door knob.

“Wait. Oliver.”


He stood where I’d left him, in his ripped jean shorts and the LEGO Star Wars shirt.

“Can—can you stay? Please?”

“Yeah, sure. Of course.” I was stunned he’d asked. But I would do anything he wanted.

“Okay,” he said, appearing relieved. “I need…moral support. Or something. Or someone to help if I start to panic.”

“Sure,” I said. “I can do that.” I put my keys back on the dresser and sat on the edge of the bed. 

Puck nodded. “Okay. All right.” 

He picked up his phone again, staring at it with trepidation. “Oh, God, why am I so nervous?”

“It’ll be all right.”

“Geeze, I hope so. But what if he’s pissed that I took so long to actually call and talk to him?”

I grinned. “Well, in a way, that would be a sign that he’s well enough to get pissed with people. Right?”

Puck shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe. But how will I explain?”

“Hey, It’s okay to admit you were scared and full of feelings you didn’t understand. It would be better for him to know that his situation affected you strongly than for him to think you don’t care.”

Puck nodded soberly. “I do care. Of course I fucking care. I hate that this happened. If he’d just listened to me when I’d told him—“

“Yeah. He probably realizes now that he should have listened to you.”


“Puck. Baby,” I said, because he seemed like a little kid right now and I wanted to use the endearment. “Can I say that?”

Puck met my gaze and blushed. It was the sweetest thing in the world. He was the sweetest thing in the world. “You can say that to me any time,” he said, keeping his gaze averted.

Warmth spread inside my chest. “Call him.”

He met my gaze and nodded once. He woke up his phone and put the call through, then held my gaze nervously as he waited for a response. After several seconds he raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

“Maybe they can’t get to the phone right away,” I suggested.

“I don’t want to bother—“

His gaze broke from mine as the call was answered. I couldn’t hear what was said but I could hear a voice.

“Oh, hi Mrs. Alderman. It’s Puck…Yeah, I know, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call…okay…yes…really?” 

Puck seemed to brighten. He glanced at me just for one second but I could see the relief there.

“That’s amazing…yes…I know he is…I’d love to speak to him if you think he’d be up for it?”

There was a pause while Puck shifted his feet and waited.

“Hey Elijah,” he said, when a deeper-toned voice came from his phone. “I know, man, I am so, so sorry…yeah…I feel like such a douche.” He laughed. “You should…definitely.”

His gaze flashed to mine with such affection and relief it warmed my heart.

“Yeah, I met this guy, actually. And he made me feel strong enough to call you…yeah…oh, he’s so hot. You have no idea. And you wouldn’t believe where I am right now…nope…I’ll tell you when I see you in person…I’m here for another month…I know…but I needed to get away.” Puck laughed again, and it was such a wonderful sound. “I’ll call you again in a few days, okay? I’m so glad to hear things are going well, man. Stay strong, okay? I love you…I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner…okay…bye.”

Puck ended his call and blinked back strong emotion, his breaths shaky. “I could really use a hug right now, Oliver.”

I jumped up from my spot on the bed and wrapped him in my arms.

Puck snugged his forehead into the crook of my neck, holding onto me. He spoke then, his voice muffled against my shirt.

“He’s got feeling in his legs now. He’s going to be able to walk. It’s going to take some time and lots of rehab, but he’s going to be okay.”

I hugged Puck tighter and pressed my lips to his cheek. “I’m so glad you called him. That was very brave.”

“Yeah, me too. He basically told me I was a dick and a chicken. But you know what? It felt good to hear him cuss me out. Like you said, he sounded like his old self, y’know?”


Puck pulled away and seemed to collect himself.

“Is it okay if I use your room to call him again in a few days? I guess I could just call him from downstairs, since everything seems okay, but—“

“Of course you can. Any time.” 

Puck shoved his hands in his pockets and gazed at me with gratitude. “Thanks, Oliver.”

“Well, y’know, it gives me an excuse to get you into my room, so—“

“Hmm,” he said, smiling shyly. “I suppose I should thank you somehow.”

I laughed. “You don’t have to thank me.”

We gazed at each other. Then Puck took his hands from his pockets and moved toward me, fingers going to my shirt. He untucked it from my pants.

“Maybe I want to thank you…”

I rested my hands on his narrow hips. “Well, if you really want to thank me.”

Puck grinned from ear-to-ear. “I really want to thank you.” He glanced at the door. “Did you lock it?”


“Good. Do you think Adam will care that I’m up here…thanking you?”

I took Puck’s chin in my hand and planted an eager kiss on his lips. “I think Adam will probably mind his own business. If we’re circumspect.”

“What the fuck does that mean, Oliver?”

I laughed. “It means if you can keep from screaming my name when I make you come.”

Puck winked. “No promises.”


He did fairly well, but I ended up stuffing a pair of clean underwear into his mouth to keep him quiet, which he seemed to enjoy. This was after he’d given me a soul-destroying blow job and I’d had to bite my own tongue to keep quiet. Now I was licking him all over his balls and ass and driving him completely crazy, especially because he couldn’t give way to unhindered vocalizations.

His muffled groans made me hard all over again. He was completely malleable today, after the good news he’d received. He was open and vulnerable, and able to relax for the first time in what was probably ages. And I took advantage of that, breaking him apart until he panted my name against the wad of fabric in his mouth. 

“Okay, fine. Do you want to come?”

“Uth, uth!” he groaned, voice harsh and desperate, words strangled by the impromptu gag.

“Stick out your ass for me, ponyboy.” I said, shoving his knees forward so his rear went up and I had plenty of access to his cock.

“Fug,” he mumbled indistinctly, spreading his legs and grasping the bedcover in his fists.

“Good boy. Such a good boy. Such a delicious pony.”

I lapped at his hole a bit more, then lubed up my fingers and got to work, pumping him and stretching him gently. I wasn’t going to fuck him, but I wanted to get him off like fireworks on Canada Day.

I felt cocky and in control. I liked it. “Say, ‘I’m such a good boy, Oliver’.”

“Um gugged,” Puck moaned.

“Try to say it.”


“Because I love to hear you struggle.”

“Ur a thug mah.”

I interpreted that as You’re a sick man, which was accurate. I laughed. 

“Yep. Now say it.” I had two fingers in Puck’s ass and I’d located the spot I wanted to tease and stroke until he shouted my name and came all over my bedsheets.

“Am shug uh—“ he cried out as my hand circled his cock. “—dud voh!”

“Oliver,” I prompted, pumping his cock with one hand and fucking him gently with my fingers.

“UH—UH—UHDUVER!” he shouted through the gag, spurting hard and shaking under my hand.

I truly hoped none of the trainers were on the floor at this time. They should have been either getting some lunch or preparing for their afternoon sessions. 

Puck rode the pleasure of his orgasm and collapsed to the bedding, right into his own wet spot.

He grunted with exhaustion. I quickly removed the gag and kissed him.

“You bastard,” he murmured.

I kissed him again. “Sweet baby.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, a smile on his sweaty face.


We didn’t meet the next day because I actually had work to do. Real work, involving polishing some images and putting a slideshow together for the weekend. I had let him know I’d be busy all day and he’d said he didn’t mind, that he had a good book to read in the bunkhouse. And that maybe he should show a bit more interest in the other ponyboys. I’d raised my eyes, and he’d stressed that it would be a purely platonic interest, as his ass only had the strength for one sexual attachment at a time, apparently.

The following morning, I wandered over to the arena when I knew Kamal would be training my beautiful boy. Or attempting to train him. I brought my handheld, since I already had enough from the tripod to keep my busy for awhile.

The day was stunning—bright and hot—but the hanging humidity had dissipated. Still, sweat beaded on the back of my neck as I approached the second paddock. 

Puck was in his basic ponyboy gear, but his arms had been left unbuckled. Probably because there were a couple of low oxers in the paddock this afternoon, and Kamal was having Puck jump over them—a task that would prove extra hard with one’s arms pinioned.

Kamal saw me before Puck did. He waved me over and came to meet me at the fence. It was difficult to drag my gaze away from the beautiful young man in leather harness and dirty boots, muscles moving sinuously beneath his familiar skin, as he maneuvered over the small jumps.


“Kamal.” I smiled.

Kamal folded his arms on the top rail of the fence and assessed me silently for a moment. 


“Hmm. I don’t know what you did, but our ornery little mess of a ponyboy is performing exquisitely today. He’s done everything I’ve asked, without issue.”

“What I did? I don’t know what you’re—“

“Although I sincerely doubt a good fucking is what brought on this good behaviour.” Kamal checked me out in a slowly sexual way and smirked. “Although, you never know.”

“Oh please. I’m good, but I’m not that good.” I laughed, then realized I’d basically admitted my interest and involvement with Puck. “Shit.”

Kamal grinned lazily.

We watched Puck, who continued his task, although he had noticed me. He almost lifted a hand to wave but thought better of it and kept his gaze forward, concentrating on what he was doing.

I ran my fingers through my hair. “Anyway, I didn’t do anything.” 

Puck had been the one to initiate his phone call. And I wouldn’t be surprised if his agreeable behaviour was due to the weight of his guilt and the precariousness of Elijah’s predicament being lifted.

Kamal nodded. “Adam said you let Puck make a phone call from your room.”

“He needed some privacy.”

“So he made a personal call?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t giving Kamal any other info. He’d have to ask Puck if he wanted details.

“Uh huh. So, do you think that had anything to do with his change of manner?”


“Well. That’s good. I won’t ask you anymore questions.”


“Okay, Puck,” Kamal called out. “You can come over here and take a break.”

Puck had just gone over one of the low jumps. He jogged over to us, breathing heavily and rosy with exertion. And…smiling?

“Puck, if you want to keep your relationship with Oliver a secret you need to use your poker face,” Kamal suggested, laughing.

“Oh, shit,” Puck said, immediately affixing a fake scowl to his face that didn’t quite succeed.

“Sorry, but you don’t look pissed. Just constipated,” I said.

“Fuck it. Whatever. I don’t care who knows, anyway,” he said, breaking into a grin and glancing shyly at Kamal.

“Uh huh,” Kamal said.

“Like it wasn’t completely obvious,” Puck said. “Even before I started smiling in the training ring.”

Kamal ruffled Puck’s dark hair. “I’m glad you’re feeling more congenial. But don’t lose that fighting edge completely. I’d like an excuse to punish you once in awhile.” 

“Fuck, I knew it. You’re hoping for mistakes, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” Kamal grinned. “You’re a most beautiful mistake if I ever saw one.”

“Don’t try to butter me up, now,” Puck said, coughing and blushing. He scuffed his boot in the dirt. “You’re a cruel, cruel master, Kamal.”

“Mmm. And you love every minute of it.”

Puck glared at Kamal, a bit of his former attitude resurfacing. “What now, Sir? Or am I done?”

Kamal gazed back and forth between the two of us, then threw his hands in the air. “Take him to the grooming barn, Oliver. He’s done well today and deserves some time off. Maybe you can go for a swim or something.”

Puck’s gaze flashed to me with excitement as I took the lead that Kamal fastened to Puck’s collar. 

Voyeuristic Intentions (8)

Voyeuristic Intentions


Prelude to an Unavoidable Reckoning

I dreamed of a giant gnat choking me on its huge, human cock. 

When I woke I was very hard and extremely confused, until I recalled inhaling a bug in the woods just before I’d stuck my dick down Puck’s willing throat. 


My hand drifted to my erection and I teased myself, remembering the way his pretty lips had felt around me. The sensation of the steel ring had added to an all-around stellar experience. Even the humiliation of the cock-blocking insect-inhale didn’t matter in the long run.

And now…now, I was going to have a quick lunch and head to the grooming barn with my equipment, so I had an excuse—a very good one—to watch Puck and his two ponyboy shift-mates, buffed and caged and shined in preparation for their afternoon training sessions.

Watching the grooming procedures the previous day had been tantalizing. Watching the object of my intensifying obsession being carefully and tenderly prepared for training would be something else entirely.

I happened to pass Kamal on my way downstairs.

“Are you taking photos in the grooming barn this afternoon?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m just getting something to eat. I’ll head over there soon.”

He smiled. “Good. Planning a special treat for you. I hope your camera battery is charged.”

Oh my fuck. 

“Okay, thanks?”

He chuckled as he went on his way.

I grabbed a sandwich in the cafeteria and ate it quickly, then washed my hands and headed upstairs for my equipment. 

A short time later, I stepped into the grooming barn and closed the door behind me.

I had miscalculated and, even with eager anticipation for this session, I wasn’t early enough to see the ponyboys come around the partition. The three young men were already standing naked under hot water, their wrists bound above, cocks caged, gags placed, with the stable hands doing their work. I stopped dead, mouth going dry, gaze immediately captured by the slimmest ponyboy bound between the other two.

Puck was facing the other way, but I would recognize that sweet plum of an ass anywhere. My mouth pooled with saliva as I watched Liv rub the loofa aggressively over Puck’s back and buttocks as if she were a prison warden—rough and pragmatic. From his little grunts of pleasure, I could tell he was enjoying the procedure.

She noticed me and smiled. “Oliver. You’d better get your stuff out. We’ll be done soon.”

“Sure. Sorry, I’m late.”

I fumbled with my gear as my gaze kept returning to delicious Puck under the shower. Finally, I slotted the Canon into the holder on my tripod.

The very moment I looked at the viewer to make sure the camera was aimed properly, Puck turned his head and stared at me, his gaze pinning me with an energy I tried to decipher. It was the old Puck, the one who seemed angry at everything, gazing at me with his chin held high, his short hair plastered to his head, the ball gag spreading that beautiful mouth.

All the breath left my body as my dick jerked in my shorts and I recalled feeling those lips around me that very morning.

I lifted my gaze from the viewer and met Puck’s angry stare with a similar force. I wasn’t backing down. I knew this was either a way he responded instinctively to submission, or a personal quirk that made those moments of sweetness even more valuable.

As I watched, he turned his gaze away from me as Liv ran the loofah over the rest of his luscious body. Perhaps he was embarrassed to have me see him like this. But he knew I would have to photograph him in the grooming barn and the stables as part of the agreement I had made with Adam. Hopefully, it wouldn’t affect the affection growing between us. But I couldn’t worry about that. I had a job to do.

I focused on the other two ponyboys, although it was torture to ignore Puck, especially with water coursing over his pale skin and the way he looked while bound to the ceiling of the grooming barn by his slim wrists. I got close-ups of other bare arms and legs, caged cocks and wrists in bondage, all while my heart pounded and memories of my morning encounter with Puck cycled through my brain.

“All right, Puck darling, let’s get you outfitted,” Liv said.

I lifted my gaze from the viewer and watched as Liv released Puck’s captive arms and led him to stand by the table. She glanced at the whiteboard and did a double take, saying “Oh,” as if something surprised her.

I glanced at the board, found Puck’s name and drifted my gaze over Kamal’s written instructions.

Basic plus rope halter (red) and tail (black).

I blinked hard and felt my cock swell as I recalled Kamal’s words to me this morning.

Surprise! Holy fucking hell.

My suddenly clammy hands trembled as I prepared to photograph what was about to happen—hopefully without the camera sliding out of my excited grip.

I took a deep breath as Puck scanned the whiteboard. His eyes widened and he swivelled his head to look at me, cheeks flushing and muscles tensing. His gaze moved to Liv with something like panic in his expression.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’ve had the tail before and the halter’s not a big deal. It’s not a bridle so there isn’t a bit.” 

She petted Puck gently on his shoulder and walked to the cabinet, opening a drawer and shuffling stuff around before retrieving a bundle of red rope that was knotted to steel rings to make headgear resembling a horse’s halter.

She held it up in front of Puck. “See? It’s nothing, really. Just makes you look like a pretty pony for Kamal. And…” she glanced my way. “Anyone else who might be looking.” She winked at me.

I stared self-consciously at the viewer, embarrassed, because I couldn’t fucking wait for Puck to seem even more pony-like.

He seemed to settle and finally nodded quietly. 

“Good boy. First, let’s get the regular gear on you, okay?” 

As she placed Puck’s leather harness and pelvic belt, fastening the buckles deftly and quickly, she continued to give him reassuring strokes and pats to make sure he was all right. 

I had to give it to the Braided Crop Ranch. Their employees were consistently kind, efficient and perceptive—and so very professional, even in this kinky, boundary-pushing, kind of environment.

Once he had his regular gear on, Liv picked up the rope halter.

“Okay?” she asked. “It’s really not a big deal. I promise.”

Puck stared at the halter, his gaze sliding to me, then back to Liv. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded.

I didn’t take photos of this because I had promised not to identify any of the ponyboys in my images, and Puck wasn’t masked as he would be in the pony show. So I stood there, pretending to fiddle with my settings but watching as Liv placed the halter over Puck’s brown hair and rested the rope pieces over his forehead and behind his ears. Another red strap came up under his chin to connect to the ones in front of his ears on each side.

The soft red bondage rope used to form the halter looked incredible against Puck’s hair and pale skin. Kamal had been right to specify the color, although black would have looked good, too.

“How does that feel?” Liv had removed Puck’s ball gag in order to fit the harness. “You can speak.”

He frowned, but said, “Fine,” in a quiet, chastened voice. He was behaving himself like a good little ponyboy and I drank it up, because I knew once he was with Kamal his attitude might change.

I wonder if he’d be a good ponyboy for me? 

The thought came from nowhere and took the breath out of me. I pushed it aside because if I focused on that, I wouldn’t have a hope of concentrating on photography or anything else. 

Liv had Puck open his mouth so she could place the ball of the gag between his teeth. His gaze kept flitting to me and I couldn’t tell if me watching made him uneasy or excited. I glanced at his cock in its steel cage and it, at least, seemed on board—swelling and straining in its confines.

“All right. Bend over the table, now,” Liv directed, finding the pony tail designated for Puck in the drawer and holding it up for him.

Puck’s chest, framed by the leather straps of his harness, rose and fell rapidly, like he was panicking again.

“It’s okay. You’ve had your tail before. It’s going to look so pretty, you know.” She winked at me as she settled Puck once again with her kind words and matter-of-fact manner.

This time he didn’t look at me. He fixed his gaze on the table as his forehead creased and he obeyed Liv’s instructions.

I couldn’t help a tiny gasp escaping me as he folded himself fluidly over the edge of the large table, presenting his bare backside to Liv and the others in the room. Adrian, who had finished tacking Andrew and was working on Justin, glanced over and smiled. 

“Oooh, that’s a perfect ass, Puck. Don’t worry about showing it off.”

I silently agreed, my gaze transfixed by Puck’s gorgeous globes as Liv gloved up and prepared the tail for insertion.

My breathing ramped up and pretended to be unaffected as she used the fingers of her free hand to part Puck’s cheeks and then pressed the tip of the plug against his sweet, pink hole.

“Open. I’ll be gentle and slow,” she murmured.

Puck had been facing away from me, but now twisted his head around and pinned me with a hooded stare as Liv gently eased the tip of the plug into his ass.

I met that gaze as my lips parted and a small noise left my throat, covered quickly with a pretence of throat clearing. I tore my gaze from his and watched the plug spread him, then flitted it back to see if he’d observed my reaction.

His pupils were blown and his steady gaze caused small explosions to go off inside me as I struggled to pay attention and not dissolve into a million lustful pieces.

“You should probably get some shots of this, Oliver,” Liv commented. “Why don’t you come closer?”

Oh fuck. “Yeah. Yes. Good idea.” I said, clearing my throat again and grabbing my handheld.

Focus, focus. This is your job. Treat it like one.

I moved in close to where Liv stood at Puck’s hip. The plug was halfway in and I lifted my camera and focused on that, forgetting about that hot gaze and the memories from this morning. I clicked images of the plug seating itself between Puck’s cheeks, Liv’s gloved fingers adjusting it and draping the horse hair over his thighs. I hoped my heavy breathing wasn’t too obvious.

“Stand up and face the showers.” 

Puck obeyed, rising gracefully with his back to me so I could get photos of him in all his glory, with the harness and arm bands and collar, small glimpses of red rope harness and the buckle of the gag at the back of his head. He was barefoot at the moment and that made him seem even more vulnerable. I photographed his bare feet against the wood of the grooming barn floor.

Liv brought over his socks and boots. “Turn around and put on your trotters, Puck.”

Puck did so, his body swivelling in place with the fluidity of a dancer. Now I could see the soft red rope framing his face, the ball of the gag between his lips, the shiny slide of drool over his chin, and those expressive, desire-filled eyes that seemed to have a direct line to my soul and other, more base, places. 

As he bent to put on the grey work socks, and then the Doc Marten boots, I took photo after photo. Close-ups of his fingers on the laces, his bent head, and full body shots of him while his face was hidden. When he stood before me again, now in all his ponyboy gear, I lowered the camera and just stared.

“My God. You are so beautiful.”

I’d said it without thinking, without caring for a moment who was witness to this declaration. It was my truth and my reality and why should I deny those feelings?

All eyes turned to me as I felt the blood heat my cheeks. Puck made a choking noise and coughed, but his gaze remained alert and intent. He looked away but came back to me, blushing but not shying away from my interest at all.

“I can’t argue with you, there,” Liv commented, taking pity on me and pretending this happened every day.

I regretted it now, because we were supposed to be keeping secrets. So I kept my damn mouth shut and simply watched as the last ponyboy was outfitted and the three men were led out of the grooming barn.

“You okay, Oliver?” Adrian asked, when we were alone. 


“That Puck is an interesting fellow,” Adrian said, picking up a cloth that had fallen and placing it back on the table. “Pretty as a picture but nasty in the paddock. Or so I’ve heard.”

I licked my lips, playing it cool. “I’ve seen him with Kamal. It’s true.”

Adrian laughed. “Still. I like a spicy ponyboy.”

I narrowed my eyes and must have channelled some big keep-away-from-my-boy energy, because Adrain raised his hands and shook his head.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a boyfriend. He’s all yours. If you can handle him.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.” I ran my free hand through my hair and blew out a puff of air. “I’m not used to feeling this way about…about anyone. Especially about a kinky, gorgeous, oppositional kid with issues.”

“Puck has issues?”

“So says Adam.”

“Hmm. I suppose we all have issues, really. Maybe Puck’s issue is simply Kamal and Kamal’s brand of control.”


I started disassembling my tripod. When I was all packed up I bid Adrian goodbye and headed out to find Kamal and Puck. Kamal had put Puck into that gear specifically for me and I wasn’t going to miss watching him, at least for a little while.

At least until I couldn’t take it anymore.

Lorraine was training Justin, whose dark skin was already glistening with sweat, in the first corral. I gave her a wave before walking over to lean on the fence and watch Kamal and Puck in the second paddock from a distance. I was so overcome by all that had occurred today, I needed to get a grip on myself before I got any closer.

I wasn’t planning to stay long. I didn’t think my heart could take the sight of Puck prancing around the paddock with his flowing black tail and red halter, knowing that this very morning he had been on his knees for me in the woods only a handful of hours ago. I started to feel jealous of Kamal and proprietary over Puck, which was ridiculous, because Puck was here to serve Kamal, not me. For the duration of Puck’s time at the Braided Crop Ranch he was under Kamal’s experienced hand.

If he let me take control of him during his off time, well, then I was just lucky. 

I watched them together, and I could already tell Puck was giving Kamal attitude. He didn’t like wearing the tail. Or, he did like it, but hated how much he liked it. Something told me it was the latter.

When Kamal noticed me, he waved. He gave Puck a slap on the rear to propel him on another circle of the paddock.

“Oliver,” Kamal said as he neared.


Kamal flourished an arm at where Puck trotted with some attempt at speed and grace along the edge of the enclosure. “So? What do you think? He looks pretty good kitted out like that, hmm?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Pretty good is an understatement.”

Kamal shrugged. “Maybe. I can see you appreciate the aesthetic.”

“Ah, fuck,” I swore. “I’m already gone for him. What the fuck am I gonna do, Kamal?”

Kamal gazed at me with affection and skepticism. “That didn’t take long. I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

“Probably not. But I can’t seem to help myself.”

Kamal gazed at his recalcitrant ponyboy, now slowing as he neared us and not putting as much effort into his form. 

“Fair enough. Do you want me to set up any particular shots for you this afternoon? He may be itching to show off for you.”

Puck returned to Kamal, scowling as much as he could with a ball gag in his mouth, and stopped in front of us, breathing hard and drooling. His hair was already damp with sweat and the sheen on his skin glistened in the afternoon sun. I was pretty sure Puck had heard Kamal’s last remark.

I shook my head. “Nah. I got so many yesterday and in the grooming barn today, I’m a bit overwhelmed, to be honest. I need to spend some time with the images I already have for a few days, before I add any more.

“Don’t forget, the first pony show is on Saturday. You’ll probably want to get some then.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Puck was regarding me relatively calmly and Kamal noticed. “Will you do me a favour before you go?”


“I want to impress upon young Puck here, that he is a pony at the moment, and thus not possessed of a free spirit. He needs to realize he is merely a pretty pet and nothing more.” Kamal grinned. “If you would come in here and examine him—“

My eyes widened and I started to decline but Kamal kept speaking. “—a cursory examination, Oliver. You won’t need gloves.”

Still, I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. But Kamal seemed to think so. And Kamal was the boss in this paddock. I bowed to his authority, as a secret part of me thrilled to the prospect of getting my hands on the beautiful, captive, boy.


“Get in here, then,” Kamal said, whipping a leather lead from his pocket and attaching it to the ring on the chin strap of Puck’s rope halter.

I slipped through the fence and stood beside them. “What do you want me to–”

“Stand,” Kamal said to Puck, who widened his stance and lifted his chin, gaze moving off me to some object in the distance as he quivered with emotion. “Steady.”

Kamal reached out and took my hand, laying it on Puck’s bare shoulder. “Just touch him. However you like, but stay away from intimate areas, if you don’t mind. Baby steps. He needs to learn to tolerate others. Not just me.”

“Okay,” I said, my heart pounding and sweat gathering on my nape.

“Pretend you’re in the market for a strong, beautiful pony. You want to check its muscle tone, the smoothness of its coat, check for any problems.” Kamal paused for effect. “So you can make an appropriate offer. Hypothetical, of course.”

I cleared my throat. “Uh huh.”

I really hoped Puck wouldn’t hold this against me. I let my fingers trace over his leather harness and along his side as he continued to avoid my gaze. Mine followed my hand where it drifted over his skin and across the swell of his belly over the pelvic strap. Puck’s muscles tightened and his pores pebbled as I did so. His breath hitched and he seemed filled with tension.

I couldn’t deny the pleasure I received from being able to touch him at Kamal’s command and knowing this was all a part of what Puck had signed on for. The fact that he and I had begun a clandestine interaction outside of his role at the ranch only added to my excitement. I could only hope he felt the same. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin what delicate thing was happening between us. But it would take a stronger man than me to resist Kamal’s request and refusing it might have seemed suspicious.

I walked slowly around Puck, who stood still as a statue, the only movement in the tension of his jaw where it was held open by the gag. This entire situation was a study in submission and objectification, and I didn’t want to disappoint either of them.

My hand drifted over Puck’s hip and along the delicious curve of his ass to the delicate crease where it met his thigh. I felt him shudder.

“You can touch his tail if you like. Just not the plug.”

I nodded, unable to speak as I threaded my fingers through the long black hairs of the tail that cascaded over the backs of Puck’s thighs. He made a sound low in his throat.

“Easy. Good pony. Stay still,” Kamal encouraged. “You’re doing very well.”

I glanced at Kamal. “Is this what you want?”

Kamal laughed. “Well, you can be a little rougher. He might like it.”

My gaze jerked to Kamal’s.

“He’s an animal, Oliver. Touch him like one.” 

Kamal placed one hand under Puck’s chin and raised it higher, exposing his long throat. He cupped his other hand around the ponyboy’s neck, keeping Puck’s head angled back and his gaze forced to the sky.

“Now, examine him. Don’t hurt him, obviously, but you don’t have to be so gentle. You’re trying to assess him, remember?”

“Fuck. Fine.”

I was breathing hard now, but I did as Kamal asked and cupped that beautiful ass in my hands, squeezing Puck’s firm glutes as he gasped and swallowed, pinned in Kamal’s grip and subject to my touch.

“Fuck,” I said again, moving my palms over his hips to glide up his belly and abdomen, so I could brush my fingers over his pebbled nipples and squeeze his pectoral muscles where they were framed by the harness. I was standing so close now I could smell the tang of his sweat and hear his quickened breathing.

“So? What do you think?”

“Incredible,” I breathed. “His muscle tone is…it’s perfect.”

Kamal chuckled.

I fought my own responses to this intimate examination and started to panic. I needed to get away from what this was doing to me. It was fucking with my body and my head. I was loving it and I didn’t know what that said about me, except that I wanted this boy with my heart and soul and I was starting to feel like I would die if I couldn’t get closer than this. 

“All right, Oliver, that’s good. Thank you,” Kamal said, as if aware of my struggle.

I backed up and glanced at Puck’s face. His eyes were wide as he stared upward, cheeks flushed and jaw tight. He strained to be still in Kamal’s strict hold.

When Kamal removed his hand from Puck’s throat, the ponyboy’s head lowered into a more natural position and his gaze met mine with a raw desire that surprised me. He seemed desperate for more, which was exactly how I felt.

I needed to get him alone again. And soon.

I took my leave of them and walked back to the main house fighting a hard-on that didn’t want to go away and an ache in my gut that required more than physical intimacy to soothe it.