Chapter Eight #2
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, ignoring his gasps, while Liv’s gloved fingers adjusted it and draped the horsehair 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 armbands and collar, small glimpses of red rope harness and the buckle of the gag at the back of his head.
His bare feet made him seem even more vulnerable and I took several shots of them 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, 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, baser 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.
“You are so fucking 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 the blood heated 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.
“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.
“Yeah.”
“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 Adrian raised his hands and shook his head.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got a boyfriend. That one’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. Maybe Puck’s issue is simply Kamal and Kamal’s brand of control.”
“Maybe.”
I started disassembling my tripod. When I was all packed up, I bid Adrian goodbye and headed out to find Kamal and Puck. I didn’t want to waste any time, since Kamal had specifically put Puck into that fancy gear for me and my camera.
Lorraine was training Justin, whose inky skin already glistened with sweat, in the corral. I gave her a wave before walking over to lean on the fence of the paddock and watch Kamal and Puck. I was so overcome by all that had occurred today, I needed to get a grip on myself before I got any closer.
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.
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.”
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. “I 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 watched 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.”
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. “I’d rather just take candids today, I think.”
“Don’t forget, the first pony show is on Saturday.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“Will you do me a favour?”
“Sure.”
“I want to impress upon young Puck here, that he is a paddock pony and, thus, not possessed of a free spirit—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 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 man.
“Sure.”
“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 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 assess 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 circled around Puck, who stood still as a statue, the only movement in the tension of his jaw. 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 curve of his ass to the delicate crease where it met his thigh. He shuddered.
“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 growled under his breath, pinned in Kamal’s grip and subject to my touch.
“Fuck,” I said again, moving my palms over Puck’s hips to glide up his belly and abdomen, so I could brush my fingers over his nipples and squeeze his pectoral muscles where they were framed by the harness. I was standing close enough to 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.”
Hearing my own words, I 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, whereas I was terrified of wanting that.
“Thank Oliver for the excellent examination, Puck,” Kamal said, as he unbuckled the gag and removed it.
Puck licked his lips and moved his jaw before saying, in a rough voice, “Thank you, Oliver.”
I didn’t know what to do. Was I supposed to reply?
“You’re welcome.”
Puck’s lips curved into a saucy grin as Kamal took his lead and led him away.
I stood there for a long moment, watching them. Then I 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.