Saddled, chapter seven (Patreon)

I am recovering from oral surgery and on antibiotics and pain killers that are making me miserable.  If you find typos, please let me know.

Clive rubbed a hand over his thigh. The swelling was sore to the touch, and every time Clive took a step, he could feel the tightness in the muscle. His Spirit had nailed him good. Even with one foot attached to the wall and wearing blinders, he still took Clive by surprise. He was quite the animal. Clive would be sucking down anti-inflammatories and limping for days. It was exhilarating. 

Right about now, Clive was usually regretting the agency’s fees. He would take his high-priced sex worker and turn them loose in the pasture while he got some work done. The agency always sent him beautiful assistants so at least Clive could enjoy the aesthetic beauty of a bound body, even when he had buyer’s remorse. He’d work in the shade and wonder what the hell was wrong with him that he paid men and women to let him dominate them. He’d swear that he would never pay for sex again, and he’d mean it.

For a few weeks or a few months or in one remarkable period of his life, for three years. And then the old needs would return.

Back when Clive had still tried to make relationships work, sex had been one more obstacle to finding happiness. Lately it had been an itch to scratch. But for the first time in years, John made it exciting. John was not some well-trained actor in a harness; he was a genuinely powerful man intent on killing Clive. Avoiding death was one hell of an aphrodisiac.

And it hurt. Clive rubbed his leg again. Unfortunately, Spirit was facing him, and his eyes narrowed at the sight of Clive’s gesture. The bastard liked causing pain. Clive lifted the vibrator’s control and let Spirit see it before he triggered the device around Spirit’s cock. Spirit screamed through the bit and did a quick series of half steps before he settled. Beautiful. Clive dropped the remote back into his pocket.

Clive was definitely going to have to watch his back tonight. And his feet. And any other extremity Spirit might try to take off. Maybe he should invest in an umpire’s protective gear. It might come in handy.

In some ways, John reminded Clive of his late wife. Sharon would kill him for making that comparison, but they both had a deadly core that Clive respected and feared. It was a heady combination. Of course, if Clive had ever tied Sharon up, she would have found a way to figuratively, financially, and literally gut him. Their incompatibility in bed hadn’t been apparent when they’d married in their early twenties. Back then, any sex had been good sex.

And by the time they had started first resenting each other and then hating each other, Sharon had developed ovarian cancer. Ironic. They’d both sworn that they never wanted children, and it turned out the organs she didn’t want had killed her. When she’d first gotten the diagnosis, they’d both devoted themselves to hating cancer instead of each other, and Clive had made so many promises in his prayers. He’d vowed to never role play, never tie up a partner, never dominate anyone ever again if God only let him keep Sharon.

He sometimes wondered what promises she’d made. None of it had worked.

By now he’d witnessed enough friends suffer catastrophic divorces that he could see the writing on the wall.  Even if she had recovered, they never would have made it. Clive wanted control. He wanted to make decisions, and show other people how good it could be when they gave him that right. Unless Clive was reading the situation wrong, John was certainly learning about a few new kinks, and Clive was determined to make sure the man enjoyed himself. 

But Sharon had been equally adamant that she wouldn’t allow anyone to control her. She’d been a visionary—a brilliant writer at a time when women couldn’t even get in the back rooms of the studios. The executives paid lip service to equality without ever giving women any real authority. Assholes refused to read Sharon’s scripts until Clive put his name in front of his wife’s, and she had never forgiven him for that. After all, Clive’s talents had never included creativity. Not in storytelling. And yet he had the connections behind the camera to get someone to read a script, and she couldn’t get talentless hacks to use her scripts to wipe their butts.

After she died, Clive had turned to men for a long time because when he tied up a woman, he heard Sharon’s condemnation. Taking power away from a woman had felt like stabbing Sharon in the back. These days Clive was a more egalitarian dominant. However, sex had gotten so boring that he had feared he was edging toward asexuality. That would be fine for others, but the absence of real sexual gratification left him hollow. He wondered if that’s how asexuals felt when they gave in to a partner’s interests and had sex that didn’t interest them.

Well Clive was just happy that John had changed the equation. Instead of looking forward to sending some random assistant home, Clive hated the idea of giving John up after another day and a night. However, short of keeping John captive, Clive didn’t have a lot of options, and the Agency frowned on actual slavery. Clive was pretty sure they had a significant security team to discourage that sort of thing.

“Knees,” Clive called out. Spirit lifted his knees more, and the change made his tail swing merrily. Even with the bit in, Spirit made his displeasure clear in a series of muffled profanities. Clive fingered the vibrator’s controls. He wanted to trigger it, but he wasn’t sure Spirit could handle more. Clive wanted to hire him again, and if Spirit suffered too much, John would never go under Clive’s control again. 

To distract himself, Clive opened his laptop and tried to focus on his work. His gaze kept drifting up to Spirit. The man had power in his every move. Giving up on email, Clive dialed Ralecia’s phone number. If anyone could get the project back on budget, she could.

“Talk,” she said in her normal brusque manner.

Since she had never appreciated small talk, Clive opened with, “Take over the Uninvited shooting schedule.”

There was a long pause, and Clive watched Spirit. The tail was swinging rhythmically, the long braids whipping up at the very end. Spirit wasn’t lifting his legs anymore, and Clive picked up his quirt from the table and headed over to the circle where the hot walker forced Spirit to travel. If Ralecia ever found out that Clive had called her while he engaged in a sex scene, she would channel her own inner Sharon and kill him.

“Excuse me?” Ralecia asked.

“I detailed all the ways Robinson violated our contract and told him to keep his face off the set unless he wanted my lawyers shredding him.”

“You kicked him off his own set?”

“Our lead has invoked his right to exclude Robinson from production.”

“Oh, you bastard. You cold-hearted bastard. Robinson is going to know in a heartbeat who had him banned from the set, and I would not want to be in your shoes. That man treats every slight, every insult, every unreturned call as a declaration of war, and the only weapon he owns is nuclear.”

Clive rolled his eyes. “That’s a little dramatic. I did warn Robinson to beware of giving talent too much authority because those contracts can be a bitch on the back end. Robinson’s contract still gives him a percentage of the final profits but shuts him out of the creative process.” And the actor in question was arrogant enough that he would never admit that Clive had talked him into excluding Robinson. He would want everyone to think he was the power behind the throne. Most of Hollywood would even believe the story.

“More than one person in Robinson’s way has suffered a significant setback. Are you prepared to work with a broken leg or cracked skull?”

While Clive had heard those rumors, he suspected Robinson was the source of most of the rumors. The man wanted to think of himself as some sort of gangster like that asshole who had knocked his mother up and run out on the family. It was just part of Robinson’s mythos. However, Clive didn’t need stories and fantasies to get things accomplished at work. “I believe Robinson is going to be tied up in other legal issues. I doubt he’ll give this production a second thought.”

“Uninvited is his love child.”

Clive laughed at the word choice and stopped the hot walker. Spirit breathed heavily, the sweat running down his shoulders. It was going to be a hot, muggy day, and a sluggish breeze failed to offer any relief. Clive ran his hand over John’s sweat-slick chest while he watched all the magnificent beast’s weapons—specifically his teeth and feet. “Love child. That is a good choice of words. It’s possible Robinson has a rather politically incorrect love child—one whose mother is barely legal and determined to use her child to make her own life more comfortable.”

“You’re paying her to go after Robinson?” Ralecia sounded horrified, but she had done far worse. She’d once confiscated an actor’s small dog, returning it only after the woman finished her scenes. Clive might screw with a man’s children, but he would never touch a dog.

Clive tugged on John’s nipple. “Quite the opposite. I have been paying her to keep quiet and not sink this production. However, I informed her last night that I was done paying her, and if she wanted more money, she could figure it out herself. I suggested getting a job.”

Ralecia’s voice was flat. “A job?”

“Considering that I found her because she had told a number of people she planned to go to the tabloids, I suspect that’s where she’s going to land this time. Robinson is going to have a difficult time explaining why he cheated on his beautiful and pregnant wife with the daughter of a friend.”

“What?” From Ralecia’s tone, Clive suspected he’d broken her. Good. Sometimes Clive needed to remind people that they should not fuck with him. Clive saw a leg muscle twitch and he darted back out of range. Spirit’s smile was beautifully vicious, even with the bit distorting it.

“So, you’re hiring one black producer to replace another? Are we all interchangeable?” Ralecia demanded. Clive did appreciate her blunt approach. At least he never had to fear was she was saying behind his back because she said it to his face first.

“I want to hire a competent ball-buster with a reputation that will terrify my talent to replace an incompetent ass who made empty promises.”

“And when your talent calls you up to whine about me?” Ralecia asked.

“I’ll point out that they have percentages in their contracts and if they want the film to make a profit so they have something to take a percentage of, they need to you.” And if that failed, Clive would threaten that same actor with bad publicity. The stereotype suggested that dominants were people who had no power in real life who wanted to act out their fantasies. In Clive’s case, he wielded significant power in all parts of his life.

Ralecia was silent for a long time. “Robinson won’t forgive either of us, and he’s dangerous.”

“Fuck him.” Clive considered Spirit’s body straining against the harness. “Or don’t fuck him because sex is far too enjoyable and that ass doesn’t deserve any. So shit on him.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not do either,” Ralecia said drily. “If you have any dirty laundry, he’s going to find it and air it. If you don’t have a body guard, he may just send someone to break a bone or two. Wherever you’re undefended, Robinson is going to aim for maximum damage.”

“Aw. Do you care?”

“You’re an asshole, but you’re one of the few honest assholes around. Don’t blow me off on this because I fully intend to tell Robinson that I never campaigned for this position and you called me. That’s going to point the gun right at your head.”

The metaphors were rather over the top, even for Ralecia who tended toward disturbingly specific threats. “I live in Maine. Even if he could find Maine on a map, he wouldn’t be seen dead here. And as far as dirty laundry goes, I could dress in a tutu and drive a team of human ponies while riding a cart made of donuts, and in this field it’s only going to make me more unique and interesting.” Clive grinned at Spirit as he took hold of the reins. Spirit stomped a foot, and Clive jerked back, barely saving his toes from a serious mashing. All Spirit’s chains rattled.

“What are you doing?” Ralecia asked slowly.

“Exercising the horses,” Clive said. He slapped Spirit’s ass and restarted the hot walker. John could have embarrassed Clive by many a sound that could not have come from a horse, and yet he had not. He had chosen to play the game. Interesting. 

“I don’t want to get sucked into a sinking ship. If Robinson digs, is he going to find anything that could take this movie down? Human ponies is interesting, but as you pointed out, barely legal girls and the daughters of friends puts you into the creepy old man category. Robinson would love to turn the same accusations back at you.”

“I don’t have friends, and my tastes don’t run to barely legal individuals of any gender. Are you taking the job?”

She didn’t answer for a long time. Another day that would have infuriated Clive, but he was too busy watching Spirit. The man was definitely judging distances every time the hot walker brought him back around. He wanted to get another kick in. Well Clive would have to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Send me the contract and the schedule,” she finally said.

“The one we’re supposed to be on or the one we’re actually on now?” 

“I’m going to regret this.” Ralecia hung up.

“Yeah, probably,” Clive said to himself. However, Clive still believed in the project, assuming they could get the budget and schedule under control. And Clive didn’t have the patience to do that work himself. He headed back to the computer and sent Ralecia the documents he’d prepared before he turned his attention back to his primary project.

“You are far easier to manage, and that’s saying something because you are a wild one, aren’t you?” Clive said to Spirit. Spirit jerked his head, fighting the bridle straps. The movement made his tail twitch and dance. Clive gave the remote in his pocket a quick flick, and the vibrator’s action made Spirit lose his balance. He fell forward, and the chains on the harness caught him so his feet dragged until Clive could turn off the hot walker.

Spirit snorted before getting his feet under him. Since the hot walker was still, he had a little more room and he half turned to glare daggers at Clive. Clive smiled sweetly. “Does my boy need a good rub down?” Clive asked. Arena dust and sweat clung to Spirit’s body. Spirit lowered his head in an unambiguous warning. The man was determined to kill Clive or at the very least maim him.

Clive was definitely going to have to watch those feet. Inching closer, Clive watched Spirit’s feet even as he ignored the throbbing pain in his leg. When Clive caught Spirit’s harness, Spirit snorted loudly. However, Clive quickly shifted his grip to Spirit’s hard cock. Now Spirit froze.

“Does my boy want something?” Clive cooed at his boy and then he jerked back as Spirit tried to stomp his toes. Of course that meant that Clive gave Spirit’s cock a good pull.

Spirit screamed.

“Oh, my poor boy.” Clive soothed the insulted flesh by stroking it. Two strokes in, Spirit decided to give up on killing Clive and hump him instead. He thrust forward so hard that he hit Clive’s hand and knocked off the vibrator. For a half-second, Clive considered picking it up, but putting his head within striking distance of Spirit’s foot seemed stupid. So Clive ignored the toy, even when Spirit lifted his foot and stomped it into pieces. Four, five, six times he brought his heavy iron shoe down on top of the plastic and electronic gadget. And then he kicked the pieces away, throwing up a cloud of dust in the process.

“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” Clive teased. He’d never had an animal quite so talented at expressing himself. Clive gripped Spirit’s cock, and he shivered. “You are definitely dirty. I need to get a rag and wipe you down.” Clive backed away, careful to keep an eye on those feet. Spirit was getting more dangerous as the weekend went, which was not the norm. Clive had stocked the arena, so he grabbed a few terry cloths before heading back.

When Clive returned, Spirit had quieted somewhat. At least he had retreated to watching suspiciously rather than actively attempting mayhem. Clive ran a cloth over Spirit’s strong shoulder, brushing the dirt away. “Be a good boy and you may get a treat.”

Clive wasn’t even a little surprise when that inspired another foot stomp, this one dangerously close to Clive’s toes. He continued cleaning his beauty, finding a new set of scars on Spirit’s hip. John had said he’d been a commercial fisherman, and Clive wondered if all his old injuries had come from that job. Since Clive had never examined other fishermen for injury, Clive had no frame of reference.

He was older than most of the assistants the agency sent. The hair around his cock had a few silver threads. Of course, he could simply be going gray early. People rarely guessed Clive’s age. They usually put Clive in his thirties, which fed Clive’s vanity on the one hand and sometimes led to people being dismissive on the other. When Clive had been younger, he’d actually had his temples dyed gray to give him a little extra gravitas. Now days he had a body of work to provide that, so he didn’t bother.

But Clive found himself insanely curious about John. How old was he? He’d clearly had knee surgery, not that it slowed him down much. The man could still mule kick like a horse. Clive chuckled at his own joke, but he didn’t allow himself to get distracted. When Clive moved around to Spirit’s rear, Spirit tensed. Clive grabbed Spirit’s tail and gave it a hard yank. Spirit lunged forward, and the attack Clive had feared never materialized.

While Spirit was still off balance, Clive pressed himself against his back and reached around to grab Spirit’s cock. The man stilled. “Does my obstreperous stallion need to come?” Clive asked. Spirit was large, and the tall boots gave him several inches on Clive. It meant Clive couldn’t see over Spirit’s shoulder, but he could feel the strain as Spirit fought the harness. His whole body was taut, and his cock was rock hard in Clive’s fist. 

Clive ran his thumb over the moist slit. “I think I should go get some lube. Does that sound like a good idea?” Clive stepped back, and this time he didn’t see any of the silent tells that suggested Clive needed to fear for his toes. Spirit’s head was down, and his back heaved as he drew in long, heavy breaths. Clive had planned to make Spirit wait, but he was clearly too worked up to enjoy himself. Clive never wanted his partners miserable, but this time he had an incentive to make sure John had fun. Clive wanted him to take another contract, and if Clive was too much of an asshole, that wouldn’t happen.

Clive wondered what financial burden had pushed John to take a job as a bottom when he clearly had no experience. The Agency would fry Clive’s ass if he invaded John’s privacy, but it had to be a significant need. Clive could provide significant resources.

Assuming Clive didn’t need the money to pay for an E.R. visit, that is. Clive had set the lube out, so it only took a second to grab the bottle. He approached Spirit carefully. The promise of a hand job didn’t guarantee that Spirit would remain cooperative, and Clive’s leg still throbbed painfully. With the blinders on, Spirit couldn’t see Clive, not that he needed to see in order to do damage. Clive moved quietly, easing his way through the danger zone. When he pressed himself against Spirit’s back, Spirit shivered so hard that the chains rattled.

“You are beautiful,” Clive said. He pressed a kiss against Spirit’s shoulder. Spirit’s skin tasted of salt and musk and dust. Clive rested his head against Spirit’s back, soaking up the warmth the other man generated. “Such a beauty.” When Spirit remained silent, Clive rewarded him by stroking his side and then reaching around to Spirit’s heavy cock. Spirit stomped his foot and a cloud of dust rose. For one second, fear made Clive cling to Spirit. He thought John might use his safe signal, but then Spirit went still again, and Clive stroked Spirit’s hard dick.

He quickly added a little lube to his fist, and now he stroked Spirit. Clive felt awkward at first. He usually brought men to the edge when he wanted the body under him to strain and buck, but he didn’t focus on his partners. However, he knew his way around a cock. Clive found the right pattern of pressure and speed, and Spirit started gasping, his hips jerking forward. Spirit had so much power in his frame that he pulled Clive with him with each thrust. When Spirit started to moan, Clive tightened his grip. One last stroke and Spirit shuddered and jerked. An inhuman scream cut through the air and chains rattled. One of Spirit’s legs came up, and Spirit twisted. The unexpected pivot nearly sent Clive to the ground, but he clung to Spirit. 

For a few minutes, Clive leaned against Spirit, savoring every shiver and tremor as Spirit fought through his post orgasm haze. Clive pressed a few soft kisses along Spirit’s spine, and then he decided to not press his luck. He stepped back and got out of kick range.

“I’d better get my boy walking or he’s going to take a chill,” Clive said. He walked around to the front of Spirit and held up the hot walker’s remote. The other remote was now useless since the vibrator was in a thousand pieces, but it was a small price. Or it was a reasonably expensive price for such a small toy, but worth it in the end. Clive wouldn’t want to win a game if the other side never had a chance to score any points.  

Spirit narrowed his eyes, but when Clive hit the remote and the hot walker started, Spirit didn’t have any choice. As the machine pulled Spirit past Clive, Spirit kicked out. Clive jumped back so he only caught the tip of the horseshoe. Spirit gave a triumphant cry and then lost his footing. Stubborn beast. 

Since Clive had attached a second chain to the harness, Spirit’s arms were only taking some of his body weight, so Clive let the machine continue to drag Spirit around. He could get his legs under him or let himself get dragged around until he ruined a painfully expensive pair of horse boots. Clive waited to see which Spirit would choose. He was almost surprised when Spirit pulled his legs up and then recovered his stride. The end of his tail was gray with dust and he’d scored deep lines into the arena, but he was upright again.

Clive shook his head. He never could predict what Spirit would do.

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