Chapter 5

I lay quietly in my little bed, blankets up around my shoulders, arms down the front of my body, knees parted, thighs open. The fingers of my left hand were as deep within myself as I could get them. The index and middle fingers of my right hand were vigorously agitating my desperate nerves, having gravitated from my hard nipples down to either side of the button between my thighs.

My mind was as busy as my fingers, a whirlwind of thoughts and fantasies, a mixing pot of need and guilt.

Mostly, I was thinking about the encounter with the Stablemaster, Paul, almost a week ago. In the meantime I'd seen my boyfriend Dominic four times, and every time I'd basically jumped on him, willing him to wipe the memories away, to make me complete with his loving tenderness. Every time, he'd managed to bring me to a stunning climax, wracking my body with wonderful seizures, his throbbing erection deep and delightfully inside me. On each occasion, he'd enquired as to my eagerness, then succumbed to the inevitable, and taken advantage of the situation.

He had no idea what had happened, no inkling of how I was feeling, and no ability to distract me sufficiently. Despite his attentions, I'd gone back to my bed late every night, and abused myself, just the way I was now, alone with my fingers, and my thoughts.

The thoughts were the problem. I loved Dom. I wanted to be with him every minute. I wanted him inside me. I wanted to please him, love him, be everything I could for him. But whenever I was anywhere near a climax, I thought not of him but of Paul.

As I climaxed, hard and fast, and calmed down with my fingers sliding slowly inside, so differently to the frantic race that had got me here, I realised I had to do something about it. That I couldn't carry on like this, that I needed to see him again, that I wanted him badly.

Then I slept. Deeply.

The next morning, I couldn't sit still and decided to have it out with him. Right away.

The stable was quiet. I could see Paul over in the corner, forking straw for the horses, working calmly in the heat, his shirt off, his muscles ripping with the effort, his back a sheen of fresh sweat.

As I walked up to him, he looked up briefly, and returned to his work. I had to speak.

"Paul, you said soon. You said you'd let me know."

"Yes," he said to me in response, not looking up, and continuing to move the straw. "I did, so what are you doing here, discussing it?"

"Well, you didn't... I thought you'd..."

"Alys, it doesn't work this way. I've been busy. I said I'd come and get you, and I will."

"You haven't decided against it?"

"Not at all."

"I... I'd better go."

"Not so fast, little Miss." He looked up then. "I'm nearly finished here."

"Oh?"

"You think you understand about obedience though? I can't do this unless you can keep your word."

"Oh, I will, Paul. I just thought something was wrong."

He stood watching me, leaning on his fork, and smiled. "Do you like being told what to do?"

"Not normally, no."

"But now?"

"You haven't told me to do anything."

"But if I did, Alys, would you like it? Would you do as I say?"

"I... I like the way you control things, yes. Would you hurt me?"

"You want me to?"

"No, I want to know that you wouldn't."

"I couldn't hurt you, Alys. I'm sure you know that."

"I feel that you wouldn't, Stabl... Paul."

"I would not. Will you do as I say?"

"I will."

"No reluctance, Alys?"

"Well... no. Not at all. What do you want me to do, Paul?"

"I want you to take your clothing off. Hang it on the rail there."

"My clothing?"

"Yes, Alys. Now."

"But what if..."

"You said you would do as you are told. Will you, or will you not?"

I didn't answer, instead taking off items of my clothing, until all that remained was a thin shift. I looked up, and Paul had returned to his forking. Without looking over at me, he spoke quietly. "All of it, Alys."

"All?"

"All. Are you ashamed?"

"Only scared, Paul." I reached down and took the hem of the shift, and raised it over my head. Completely naked now, I let him turn and stare at me. He was motionless for a while, looking me up and down, staring intently, as though he wished to memorise my body.

Eventually he turned again, back to his work. I stood there, in the middle of the stable, without a stitch of clothing on. It wasn't terribly warm, but the whole situation had turned me on, and I didn't mind. After a few minutes, he spoke again, without facing me. "Climb the ladder, Alys."

I was relieved, and disappointed at the same time. I had been scared that someone would come in and discover my nudity, but I liked to be on display for him at the same time. My relief was short-lived, as I only got my feet on to the first rung of the ladder up to the loft before he spoke again, matter-of-factly, and without interrupting what he was doing: "Stop there, Alys. Right there."

"Here? On the ladder?"

"Yes, there. I won't be long."

As I stood, feeling more exposed than ever, my feet and hands on rungs of the ladder, I turned and watched Paul at work. After a few minutes, he finished what he was doing, and turned back to me.

"Don't face me like that, Alys. Turn around."

I said nothing, but turned back to face the ladder.

"Ah. You know, Alys, you have a delightful body, both from the front and the rear."

"Thank you Paul. Can I go now?"

"No. Stay there."

"I must?"

"Yes, you must. Stop asking."

"Yes... Sir."

"No, no. It's not like that. Call me Paul. Just don't question my decisions. Unless you don't like this game."

"I like it, Paul. I like it a lot."

"I thought you might."

"I had no idea."

"I thought that too, little Miss."

"I like that, too."

"You do?"

"Indeed."

While we were having this discussion, Paul had quietly removed all of his clothing, tossing it over mine, on the rail, and had walked up behind me.

"Promise me something else, Alys dear?"

"I'm not sure I should, Paul."

"I can understand that. But it's this. If anything is going to happen that you don't want to, tell me so, and call me Stablemaster. I will stop."

"Oh, I can promise that, Paul."

"Short of that, do not question me."

"Yes, Sir."

Paul had been speaking in my ear, but he hadn't touched me, until now. I could sense his heavy body behind me, but didn't dare turn around. His large hands reached up and rested for a moment on my shoulders. The weight was nice; the warmth of his body seeping into mine. I could smell him, too. A mixture of horses, and straw, and man. Fresh sweat, with hard work.

His hands didn't rest there long, sliding down my back with a precise gentleness, over my ribs, and reaching around just enough to slide past the sides of my breasts, causing my breath to catch, my body to jump, and his fingers to dig into the sides of my torso.

Down the hands slid, as though they were recording me the way his eyes had before, slipping around and over parts he might have missed, down to the base of my spine, and down further, firmly taking my cheeks into his large hands. He squeezed them firmly before returning to the sliding action he'd started with, and bent his legs a little to allow his hands further down my body, around my warm, damp thighs and on down the back of my legs to below my knees.

He scraped his fingernails around to the front of my legs now, and started a return journey, and as he straightened his body I could feel him pressing against me, the tip of his erection sliding up the crease between my buttocks, his chest against my back, his lips greeting me in various spots before settling at the base of my neck.