Saddled, chapter six (Patreon)

John woke when his attempt to shoo a fly away from his face ended with him punching himself in the face. Davidson had chained his hands together with about twelve inches of slack. Half-asleep, John had tried to brush something away from his face with his right hand, but his left hand had smacked into his nose, waking him immediately. Luckily John was still wearing the soft foam hooves on his hands or he might have genuinely hurt himself. 

John jerked upright, and chains jangled. It took his brain another second or two to catch up with reality. Davidson had one hell of a kink for bondage. The bit was gone, but instead Davidson had added a padded nylon strap over John’s mouth, attaching it to the bridle. It didn’t keep him from talking, but it would muffle any sound.

After he pushed himself up to his knees, he struggled to his feet on the tall boots. His feet hurt more today, and John wondered why women wore high heels. His toes definitely objected to the footwear. Once he was up, he rolled his shoulders and generally tried to get his blood moving. The padded floor wasn’t any worse than a number of births he’d slept in. When he’d been trying to get the down payment for his own boat, he’d spent two years on crab boats out of Alaska. The floor was a palace compared to the narrow, stinking births with high sides that John had been regularly slammed against as the ship rolled with the waves. 

However the bondage was a new experience. On most of John’s jobs, he played the heavy. He would tie people up, play the role of a gangster, or in one particularly twisted case, dress up in a uniform, whip and tie up a husband and then fuck the wife with the husband in bed next to them. The control was an illusion because people paid for and specified the exact parameters of the fantasy. The guy wearing the gag and tied to the bed had made all the choices, and John saw himself as an expensive fucking machine. He didn’t improvise or make any decisions.

Weirdly, he had more control now. Davidson didn’t require him to do something or pretend to be something he wasn’t. It was strange—getting to do and feel whatever he wanted while Davidson used the chains to maintain his power.

“How are you doing this fine morning?” Davidson asked as he slid the door open.

John narrowed his eyes and glared.

Davidson laughed. “Someone is full of piss and vinegar this morning.”

Since John wasn’t wearing the bit, he could have called Davidson an ass. However, that felt like cheating. While John wanted to win this game he was playing with Davidson, he wanted to do it within the rules. He wanted to bring a horseshoe down on top of Davidson’s foot or he wanted head-butt him hard enough to wipe the smirk off his face. He didn’t want to use his signal to end the game or cheat by calling the man a piss ant and an ass.

“I thought an offer of breakfast might be enough to tame you,” Davidson said as he put a bottle into the holder on the side of the stall. John pulled at the wrist chains which were hooked to the floor, but he didn’t have enough slack to reach Davidson and he certainly wasn’t going to pull the anchor out of the floor. So he watched. “I find some animals are tamed overnight. Sleeping puts them in their place. However, you are the other sort of beast. You take the opportunity to recharge, don’t you? My Spirit still has his Spirit.”

In the eight hours since John had last seen Davidson, he’d managed to forget how much he hated the way the bastard talked about him as if John was an actual animal.

“Look at that glare,” Davidson said with a chuckle. He pulled a strap across the bottles and then ducked out of the stable again.

Hunger gnawed at John. At this point, sucking chowder out of a bottle was preferable to going hungry, but he couldn’t reach the bottles, so he waited to see what sort of torment Davidson had planned for this morning. He returned within a couple of minutes carrying a long rod with a loop at the end. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that was for. John took a step closer to Davidson so he would have as much slack as possible.

“Are you going to make this easy on yourself?” Davidson asked.

Fuck that. The call sheet said John didn’t have to play nice, and John planned to take advantage of that freedom. Sure, this was what Davidson wanted, and John knew that. However, John was a pissed off fisherman. He did battle with nor’easters and bastard captains and stoned crewmates who couldn’t hold their end of a crab pot. Davidson was small potatoes compared to all that, so John stretched his neck and waited for Davidson to make his play.

Davidson’s first attempt to get the loop over John’s head was pathetic. One jerk to the side, and John avoided it. He wasn’t even surprised when Davidson immediately flipped the loop. When John dodged that second maneuver, Davidson huffed. “Well, someone is making breakfast difficult.”

John snorted and waited for Davidson’s next move. The next few minutes passed quickly as Davidson threw the loop and John ducked and weaved. The short wrist chain and boots made it difficult and John quickly worked up a sweat. Fortunately for him, Davidson had a horrible poker face and every time he thought he had figured out how to lasso John, he got a particularly devious grin. The battle continued for fifteen or twenty minutes—long enough that John’s thighs burned from exertion and Davidson’s throws were much more clumsy. That’s when John slipped and fell to one knee. Before he could recover, Davidson had slipped the loop over his head.

When Davidson pulled John back, John could only growl as he complied, the loop tight around his neck.

“You are feeling your oats,” Davidson said. From his tone, he was in just as good of a mood as ever. John hoped the man’s arm was sore for days. “Let’s get your morning absolutions done before we turn you out to pasture for a while.” Davidson hooked the pole to one of the stall bars, and now John was on his hands and knees completely immobilized. The lasso kept him from moving forward, but the wrist chains prevented him from retreating.

“Shift over,” Davidson said with a gentle slap on John’s left hip. John considered refusing just out of orneriness, but he preferred to wait until he had a better chance at scoring real points.  He shuffled a little to the right. Then Davidson put his foot between John’s knees. “Over, boy,” he repeated, giving John’s left hip a slightly firmer slap.

John snorted. He couldn’t move with Davidson in his way.

“Over, boy,” Davidson repeated firmly. Again, John could only snort. If Davidson wanted to give a clear direction, John would probably follow it since he didn’t have any choice, but this talking to him like an animal shit didn’t improve communication.

Davidson patted the round of John’s ass. “What a stubborn boy you are. Yes, you are. I’m going to gentle break that stubborn streak of yours. But we have time, boy. Good, Spirit. Over.” Davidson added a soft slap to the inside of John’s right thigh. The butterflies came to life in John’s stomach. Right. John reconsidered whether he felt like fighting, but this seemed like a really bad time for it. He slowly shifted his right knee over so his legs were spread. 

“Good boy. Stay,” Davidson said in a tone that made John want to bring his knees together again, except Davidson now had both his feet between John’s open knees. John focused on the stall wall as he heard a number of clicks. Then Davidson patted him on the butt again. “Good boy.” 

John was going to bite the man’s finger off.

Davidson did something with the back of John’s belt, and then cool air brushed across his crack. So he had taken off the strap that held in the plug. It was strange how quickly John had grown used to it, because he felt infinitely more exposed now that the strap was gone. Davidson pressed on the base of the plug and John closed his eyes and groaned. His ass felt hot and stretched, but under that was a sensitivity that made him want to jerk off. And he couldn’t. John had never been good at self-denial. Even on the crab ships he’d had a close and intimate relationship with his hand, and now he had to wait for Davidson to decide whether or not to do something. A shiver took John.

“Easy, boy,” Davidson said. He stepped way, and John tried to move his knees together, but he couldn’t. The strap at his ankles tightened. So that’s what the bastard was doing. John was going to bite off two of his fingers. He wondered if Davidson had tied John’s feet to the ground or if it was a spreader bar. John was stretched at an awkward enough angle that he couldn’t turn around to look. Not that it mattered. Fucking helpless was fucking helpless, no matter what equipment was used. 

John took several deep breaths. Davidson was meticulous about staying on the call sheet, so John wasn’t afraid. Not exactly. He was more anxious about what part of the call sheet Davidson might wander into next. And John’s morning wood was quickly hardening into something more annoying. At least it was annoying that John had no way to bring himself off. He could only kneel in a stall while his idiotic cock got steadily harder.

Davidson’s footsteps returned, but John focused on the wall. “Good boy.” John had a vague hope that Davidson wouldn’t noticed his heavy, hanging cock, only Davidson rested one hand on John’s ass and with the other, reached under to stroke John. John groaned, especially when Davidson’s questing fingers brushed across John’s balls. But then Davidson clucked and stood up. “My Spirit is going to learn his next lesson,” Davidson said. A chill ran through John’s body. 

Davidson pulled the plug out, and John’s ass felt strange—cold and open in a way he hadn’t experienced before. However, before he could adjust, a slick thickness slid all the way into him. John had expected another round of sex, but this happened so fast that he gave a half-scream as Davidson hit John’s prostate. Before John could mentally catch up, Davidson was rutting, slamming into John’s thighs so hard that their bodies slapped together. 

John gasped, the air warm and stale as it filtered through the padded mouth cover. When Davidson grabbed John’s hips and started thrusting harder, John’s need to move overcame his common sense and he pulled against the lasso. Davidson jerked on John’s harness, pulling him back and impaling him farther on Davidson’s dick.

About the time John was whiting out from a need to come, Davidson pulled out. With both hands on John’s ass, he panted heavily, but John couldn’t tell if he’d come or stopped himself just before coming. John prayed the first because if Davidson didn’t finish the job, John was going to die of blue balls. After a few long minutes, Davidson stood.

When he walked around to the front, John could see the filled condom. “Good boy. You know just how to get your master off in the morning. I haven’t enjoyed a morning ride like that in a long time. Good Spirit.” Davidson poured salt on the wound by patted John’s head. John decided he was going to bypass biting Davidson’s fingers off and go for one of the man’s balls. Chuckling, Davidson walked out of the room leaving John trapped in place with his boner hanging. John wasn’t sure if the blue balls or the embarrassment bothered him more, but he was definitely feeling more than a little hostile toward Davidson.

The worst part was that John suspected Davidson had refused to bring John off just to annoy him. After all, a pissed man was more likely to act like the beast Davidson wanted. But he was going to pay for this.

“I brought you a present,” Davidson said as he came in. He had another tail, this one with a much thicker and longer plug and a braided tail. It had a strange s-curve where the plug and tail met. “You’re going to look so beautiful with your new tail. Aren’t you my beautiful boy?” Davidson asked.

He came over and patted John’s ass before he moved into John’s blind spot. Because John’s cock was so hard, the long plug pressing in made his eyes water. John would have paid Davidson if the man would just bring him off, but orgasm denial was on the call list. If the man enjoyed the kink, he was probably in fucking heaven seeing John suffering so much. Davidson pulled the strap tight between John’s legs and fastened it back into place.

“Now you be a good boy,” Davidson said as he walked to John’s side. He took out a key and unlocked one of John’s wrists. With the soft hoof glove, John’s hand was useless as a weapon so he didn’t fight when Davidson fastened the wrist strap to the belt. When Davidson unlocked John’s second wrist, John knelt up. His cock was dark and hard, held out from his body by the ring that encircled his cock and balls as part of the crotch strap. Davidson grabbed John’s arm with both hands, and John raised an eyebrow in silent challenge. John liked inspiring a little fear, but he didn’t do anything as Davidson locked John’s second wrist to the belt. 

John’s best weapons were his feet, and now that John had more freedom of movement, he could see the spreader bar holding those weapons captive. But Davidson had to free him eventually. 

“I think you need a little reminding about your place, my beautiful stallion.” Davidson walked around to John’s front. John expected the bit. He wanted it. If John was gagged, then he couldn’t use a safe word and Davidson would have to free his feet to use the safe signal.

Instead Davidson hooked the blinders to the sides of John’s halter. He adjusted them until John had a very narrow field of vision right in front of him. When Davidson moved to the stall door, John turned his head to watch him. The man clearly had a bondage stock set up in the next room, but none of that would matter once John had his feet free.

Davidson returned quickly and clipped something to the side of the bridle and then to the harness. When he did the same on the other side, John couldn’t turn his head. That really limited his vision. 

“Up boy,” Davidson said. 

John grunted without answering. With the spreader in place, he couldn’t get his feet under him.

“UP!” Davidson pulled back on John’s harness hard enough that John either had to arch his back and cooperate with Davidson’s attempt or get pulled to the ground. However, that pushed the longer plug into John’s prostate. John lurched forward, and Davidson grabbed him by the harness and tail.

After giving a strong yank on John’s tail, Davidson moved in front of John. “Easy boy. Easy now. Be a good boy.”

John narrowed his eyes.

“Come on.” Davidson must have removed the lasso because he urged John forward toward the feeding bottle. “Good, Spirit. Aren’t you my good boy?” Davidson cooed at him, but John had to focus on waddling forward with his legs splayed out, so he didn’t have time to glare at the man. Instead of letting him go to the bottles, Davidson moved him a couple of feet to one side. John only figured out why when Davidson got down and clipped one of John’s legs to the wall. Only then did he remove the spreader bar.

“Don’t go anywhere.” Davidson chuckled at his own joke as he left John tethered to the wall. He hadn’t even taken off the padded mouth cover so John couldn’t eat or drink. He could only stand and look down at his hard cock. He still wanted to come, but the need had turned into something dull and low, a craving he could ignore if he had to, and he clearly had to.

“That tail does wag nicely my boy,” Davidson said as he returned. He slapped John’s hip, and when John turned to look at him, he felt the plug shift as the weight of the tail swung. The dull longing for an orgasm flared to life, and John arched his back in need. Fuck. The s-curve on the damn thing meant the tail was held out from his body where it could swing freely. 

“Let’s get you fixed up for the day.” Davidson took off the mouth cover, and John expected Davidson to put the bit in his mouth. Instead Davidson hooked John’s harness to a hook in the wall right under the bottles. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, John leaned forward and enjoyed drinking without having to navigate the metal bars in his mouth. This morning he had a thick fruit something. The chalky taste probably meant it had a protein powder. He finished the fruit and then turned to the water. Because of the blinders, he could only see a narrow strip of the stall directly in front of him, but John could hear Davidson walking behind him. With one foot attached to the wall, half of John’s heavy armaments were disabled, but he listened carefully.

He kept his mouth on the straw of the water bottle and shifted his weight from side to side. He groaned when he realized that the long braided tail would torment him with every swing. His cock grew painfully hard, and John strained against the straps holding his wrists. The desire was almost enough to send him to his knees, but John forced himself to focus on the sounds behind him. The soft padding on the floor muffled Davidson’s footsteps, but John closed his eyes and visualized when Davidson might be standing.

When he was fairly sure the man was behind him, John shifted his weight, allowing the heavy tail to swing, and then he struck out as hard as he could with his free foot. He hit something hard, and then heard a body hit the ground. It sounded like when John was on the high school wrestling team and someone threw an opponent. John tried to twist around to see what damage he’d done, but his chest was right against the stall wall, and the blinders were too restrictive. 

John half expected Davidson to lose his temper and whip him. Whipping for misbehavior was allowed. Surprisingly, he heard that familiar chuckle.

“My beautiful boy isn’t about to be tamed, is he?”

John twisted around the other way, but he still couldn’t see Davidson. He only knew where Davidson was when the man grabbed John’s leg in both hands and pulled it into the air behind John. “Someone has to learn not to kick.” John waited for the pain. He had earned it, and he’d do it again given half a chance. Instead he heard a click before Davidson stepped back. However, he’d fastened John’s ankle to the harness with some sort of strap. John couldn’t put his foot down. Now he had one leg locked to the wall and the other awkwardly lifted in the air.

Davidson pressed himself against John’s back. “My beautiful boy. I’m going to break you until you eat out of my hand. But we’re going to do this nice and slow. You’re never going to fear my touch. I saw you tense up. You thought I’d hurt you. But you’re just being a stallion. Spirited animals will attack. The handler has to show more control and train them properly.” Davidson reached around and ran a finger over John’s cock. John shivered.

“Does my boy like that?” Davidson’s caress was firmer this time. John was definitely confused. “Someone needs to come. Stallions are like that—all hormones and none of the good sense of a human.” Davidson walked away, and John made an inarticulate cry. His cock was hard, and he couldn’t hold his weight on his one leg for long. And he really didn’t want to lose his balance and let the harness take his weight. That would push his hard erection into the stall wall.

“Be a good boy,” Davidson called. John didn’t have much of a choice. He was as close as he’d come yet to calling out his safe word, but he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down before his cock fell off. This time, Davidson was gone a lot longer. When he came back, he had a box and a dangerous smile. 

“My boy is such a handful.” Davidson unfastened the harness from the wall, but then he reattached it using a longer strap. “The trick with training an animal is consistent reward and punishment. You can’t reason with a beast.” Davidson patted John’s hip before he pulled something out of the box. It looked like a plastic oval that had wilted across a rod. John couldn’t figure out what it was but Davidson slipped it over John’s cock. The open curved ends were just north of John’s cockhead, and the thicker bottom pushed snuggly up against his erection. John would have thrust into it, but he didn’t dare with both his feet restrained.

Then Davidson slid a thick bag around John’s cock and balls and tightened the top before attaching it to the harness. John’s cock was now nicely hidden from sight, but the added pressure made John want to hump the nearest leg. He now understood why dogs got so obnoxious, and he pitied them their lack of hands.

“I had been planning on giving you some time in the pasture, but I think you could use a little more time on the hot walker,” Davidson said. He reached up and flipped the blinders closed so John was utterly in the dark. Only then did he release John’s one leg. John put his foot down, never before so grateful to put two feet on solid ground, not even after his months on a rolling, bucking crab boat.

Davidson grabbed John’s lip, his thumb sliding inside John’s mouth. Before John could protest, the bit went in. At least they were on familiar territory now. John knew what to expect. He had no more than thought that when the thing around his cock started to vibrate.

John gave an inarticulate cry and jerked forward. Davidson’s arms caught him before John could go down. He had forgotten that one of his legs was still fastened to the wall of the stall.

“Hush boy,” Davidson said. Still blind, John lunged forward and pinned Davidson to the wall before thrusting into him. The damn vibration stopped and John screamed when Davidson cruelly twisted his nipple. Before John could recover, Davidson was gone and John was leaning into the wood wall, his face resting against two bars from the upper portion of the stall. Damn it.

“Someone is definitely too cock focused. That’s okay, my boy. I know you can’t control instinct. We’ll teach you to focus on your master and not that silly old cock of yours,” Davidson cooed in the most condescending tone yet. John was starting to have fantasies about biting the man’s cock off, especially after Davidson unfastened John’s last ankle. 

“Let’s work on trust. Back, boy,” Davidson said. John didn’t move. A whip whistled through the air next to him. “Back, boy,” Davidson repeated. Before John could decide what to do, the whip caught John on his right hip. John jerked and the heavy tail swung wildly. When Davidson then triggered the cock vibrator, John arched his back and screamed in frustration. And then it all stopped.

Davidson said calmly. “Back boy.”

John had gotten his first point today, and it wouldn’t be his last. However, he couldn’t score right now. He could only obey and hope his cock didn’t fall off from frustration. He took an unsteady step backward. “Good boy,” Davidson said. He gave John’s tail a quick tug. Oh yeah, John was going to die of need, and when he came back to haunt Davidson, he was going to make the man pay.

“Right, Spirit.” Davidson said. He punctuated it with a touch of the whip against John’s left hip. John turned away from the whip and got another series of cooed praises. It was going to be a damn long day.

Chapter 7: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-16538533 

Chapter 8: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-16939268 

Chapter 9: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-17047062 

Chapter 10: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-17637933 

Chapter 11: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-18483089 

Chapter 12: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-18786045 

Chapter 13 and 14: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapters-18974026 

Chapter 15: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-19132781 

Chapter 16: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-19490176 

Chapter 17: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-19634666