Stable Boy

The next day the weather was a shade cooler but Jim was still in his shirtsleeves as he made his way to work. There was a spring in his step as he went through the morning routine and he was bubbling with anticipation. It seemed that every day was bringing new experiences, most of them positive, and he wondered what was in store for him today. In what seemed like no time he’d got Morning Dew ready and he was standing on his box, trousers and panties around his ankles when Miss Worthing came into the stables bang on the dot of seven-o-clock.

“Good morning.” She said brightly as she went up to Jim and took his caged penis in her hands. “How are we this morning? Any chafing?”

“No… No, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied. “It’s fine.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Miss Worthing said, looking him straight in the eye. “Just fine. Now come along, let’s get my boots on.”

Miss Worthing sat down as Jim got down from his box and knelt before her. This time Miss Worthing was quite blatant about the way she was rubbing his penis with the sole of her boot and seemed to be taking fun from trying to put him off. Jim struggled to concentrate; he wanted so much just to revel in the wonderful sensations but he knew that, if he were to stop, then so would she. Much as he tried he couldn’t spin it out for long and, shortly, the boots were on and Miss Worthing was standing in front of him.

“We’re going to have so much fun.” She said. “Now, no slacking today; I want you up at the house for eleven-o-clock. I’ve got some little jobs for you.”

She turned and went off for her morning ride.

For the rest of the morning Jim was kept pretty busy; the weather might be cooler but that didn’t stop the girls from coming in to take their ponies out for a ride. There was the usual chaos as pieces of tack went missing only to turn up moments later but, by mid morning he had it mostly under control and was well in command of his daily schedule. At five to eleven he made sure there was nothing needing his immediate attention and went over to the house. Grateful for the privacy of the back garden he got undressed and, knocking on the back door, went inside.

“Ah, there you are.” Miss Worthing said as she came through from the study. She went to the broom cupboard and fetched out the apron, handing it to Jim to put on. “Mrs Brown is off for her annual fortnight in the Costa Brava and I’m without a cleaning lady for the interim.” She explained. “You’ll find the Dyson and the furniture polish in there; I want all the rooms, upstairs and down, vacuumed and dusted. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied. Miss Worthing gave him a long stare and he suddenly remembered, he was wearing the apron and she was due a curtsey.

“That’s better.” She said as he bobbed clumsily. “Now get on with it; I’ll keep an aye on the stables.”

Miss Worthing went off out into the yard and Jim was left with the intricacies of the Dyson. He’d never done any housework before, his mum kept the house clean at home and his student digs were… student digs, but it didn’t take too long to sort out what went where and he was off pushing the vacuum cleaner over the deep pile carpet. That was the easy part; as to what was involved in dusting he really didn’t have a clue so he ended up vaguely flicking the cloth around trying hard not to break anything. This, of course, gave him an opportunity to have a good look around. He’d already seen the lounge and when he got to the study and dining room they were similarly furnished. There was a lot of oak furniture, much of it, he guessed, valuable antiques. In trepidation he squirted some polish at the dining table and was pleased when, with a few wipes of the duster, it came up with an improved sheen.

And then he got to upstairs and, in particular, Her bedroom. He hesitated at the door before going in; it felt almost intrusive to be going in without her there. The bed was made and the room was mostly tidy so he vacuumed the floor and ran the duster over the dressing table. Then he went in to the en-suite and wiped around, leaving it as perfect as he could. He wanted, he wished he could do so much more; there was a delightful intimacy about cleaning this, her inner sanctum.

“Aren’t you done yet?” Miss Worthing voice came from downstairs.

“Just finishing up, Miss Worthing.” Jim wrapped up the lead for the Dyson and hurried downstairs, this time remembering to give her a curtsey as he went by. He’d just put the Dyson away when Miss Worthing called him into the lounge.

“And what’s this?” She ran her finger along the mantelpiece and held it up. Jim could see the grey smudge of dust.

“I’m sorry, Miss Worthing.” Jim started.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry or not. I set you a task and you blatantly haven’t done it, have you?” Miss Worthing was in full school ma’am mode.

“No, Miss Worthing.” Jim was crestfallen.

“And why not?” Miss Worthing asked sternly.

“I didn’t know I had to.” Jim admitted.

“It looks like this is another thing I’m going to have to teach you.” Miss Worthing said with a sigh. “Well, we’ll get to that later. You’d best get back to the stables. Come along now, off you go.”

Jim gave Miss Worthing a final curtsey and, leaving his apron in the broom cupboard went outside to get dressed again. As he made his way back to the stable block he could tell that he was going to be kept busy; there were girls and their horses coming and going everywhere and he hadn’t even got to the tack room before he was in demand to sort out a dispute over the ownership of a bridle.

He was still hard at it when, shortly after lunch, Kathy arrived but she ignored Jim and went into Truffles stall preferring equine to human company. She was still there when Miss Worthing came into the stables.

“Hello Kathy.” Jim heard her say as she leant over the door to Truffles stall. “Don’t forget you’re invited to tea this afternoon.”

“I’m not sure I…” Kathy started, reticent as ever.

“Nonsense.” Jim knew Miss Worthing in this mood; she was unstoppable. “Of course you can. Come up to the house at three-o-clock, or will I have to come and fetch you?”

“OK.” Kathy agreed reluctantly. “I’ll be there.”

“Of course you will.” Miss Worthing said before leaving to check on the rest of the stables.

Shortly before three Jim was out in the yard working when he heard a car pulling in. He turned to see a Mazda MX-5 manoeuvring across the yard. The top was down revealing the driver to be a woman, smart, well dressed and, Jim guessed, around her mid twenties. She parked up and got out, giving Jim a warm smile before heading for the house. Miss Worthing had obviously been keeping an eye out for her because she was waiting ready at the door well before the woman got there.

Ten minutes later Miss Worthing, accompanied by this woman, came over to the stable block and headed straight for Truffles stall.

“Kathy, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Jim heard Miss Worthing say. “This is Zara, Zara Thornton.”

“Hello Kathy.” Zara said. “What a lovely horse, is he yours?”

Jim couldn’t hear Kathy’s response but he knew that, by praising Truffles, Miss Thornton had got off to a good start and, when five minutes later, he saw the three of them heading off for the house Kathy and Miss Thornton seemed deep in conversation.

Shortly after this Amanda, Sandra and Karen arrived. Amanda was still driving the Punto; evidently repairs to her car were taking some time. They slouched over to the stables and, after giving their respective horses the once over, hung around smoking. Jim tried to respectively point out that smoking in the stables was not only against the rules but also very dangerous but their response was to ignore him. However, he noticed he wasn’t subjected to the torrent of derision he would have suffered previously. They were still hanging around when Kathy reappeared.

“Hey, tubby!” Amanda shouted out. “Where have you been? Get your fat arse over here.”

“I… I can’t. I’m busy.” As ever, Kathy was nervous when confronted by Amanda.

“Busy? Too busy to spend time with your friends; what on earth can you be up to?” Amanda said derisively.

“She’s coming riding with me.” Miss Thornton had arrived and came to Kathy’s defence. “You must be Mandy; Miss Worthing has told me all about you. For a start you can put those cigarettes out.”

Amanda was about to protest but there was something about Miss Thornton that made her think twice and, with all the bravado she could muster she stubbed out her cigarette and slouched off, taking her friends with her.

“What a thoroughly nasty girl.” Miss Thornton commented. “Now then, Miss Worthing has said I can take Morning Dew out.” She turned to Jim. “Would you be so kind as to get him ready for me?”

Jim went off to saddle up Morning Dew whilst Miss Thornton and Kathy sorted out Truffles. When Jim returned with Morning Dew they were still talking animatedly and Jim realised that he had never seen Kathy look so happy, so excited as she showed off her beloved pony.

“Come along then; you can show me your favourite rides.” Miss Thornton mounted up and the two of them rode off into the paddock.

It was nigh on six-o-clock when they returned and Jim was doing his final rounds. However both Kathy and Miss Thornton helped put the horses back in their stalls and were so involved in each other that they didn’t impact on his routine.

“Thank you, Miss Thornton. I’ve had a lovely afternoon.” Jim heard Kathy say as they emerged from their respective horses stalls. Whether it was the ride or the company she was flushed and excited.

“So have I.” Miss Thornton replied. “And you must call me Zara; after all we are friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes… Zara. Thank you, Zara.” Kathy said.

“And don’t forget, you’re coming over for supper tomorrow. You do know where I live don’t you.”

“Yes; thanks for the invite; I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Excellent. Now, can I give you a lift home?”

“Yes, please, Zara.”

Miss Thornton put her arm around Kathy’s shoulder and led her off to her car. As they drove off Jim went to the front gate to close it behind them and when he headed back to the yard he saw Miss Worthing coming from the house.

“Was that Miss Thornton giving Kathy a lift home?” She asked.

“Yes, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied.

“Good. It’s so nice when a plan comes together. Now then, is everything locked up for the night?”

“Not quite, just my last minute checks.”

“Then you had best hurry up; it’s time we had a quick discussion about your inability to perform the most basic of cleaning tasks. You have five minutes to be in my kitchen properly attired for housework.” Without another word Miss Worthing turned and went back to the house.

Jim finished off around the stables and headed for the house. As he undressed he wondered what he was in for; should he be scared or thrilled, or possibly, both. Whichever, his penis stirred in its cage at the prospect and he was distinctively uncomfortable as he made his way into the kitchen and knelt down.

It wasn’t long before Miss Worthing arrived but she took no notice of him and, apparently, went about her normal life as if he did not exist. She had changed out of her jodhpurs and blouse and was wearing a dark blue kimono like garment that came to around her knees; on her feet were a matching pair of high heeled court shoes. She made herself a cup of coffee and went over to the stove where a saucepan was bubbling away giving the kitchen a delicious aroma of tomato and basil. She took some mussels out of the fridge and spent some time preparing them, all the while completely ignoring Jim as he knelt on the floor. In some ways this was worse than a beating. There was an urgency coming from his loins and he wanted, craved, whatever it was that Miss Worthing had in store for him. How much crueller was this disregard; every fibre of his being called out to be allowed to worship, to serve; to be so ignored was the worst of all.

It was maybe half an hour before Miss Worthing fetched some things from the broom cupboard and came and stood before him, dangling the apron from her fingertips.

“Put this on and follow me.” She turned and went into the lounge.

“Now, take these.” She handed him a can of spray polish and a duster. “Spray the polish on, wipe off with the duster. I would have thought even a simpleton like you could manage that. Where there are ornaments you remove them, polish and replace. OK?”

“Yes, Miss Worthing”

“Well get on with it then.” She went over and sat in an armchair, picking up a copy of Horse and Hound to read. She sat back and crossed her legs, swinging her foot idly as she read. Was it coincidence that the satin material of her dress fell either side of her legs exposing ever more of her thighs? Jim tried hard to concentrate but it was nigh on impossible; he couldn’t stop trying to steal glances out of the corner of his eye. Eventually he got to the last bit and Miss Worthing stood up, put down her magazine and came over and stood right behind him.

“Now, was that so hard?” She asked. She put her hands on his hips and slid them gently under his apron.

“No, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied.

“And how about this? Is this getting hard?” Her hands slid under the waistband of his panties and the tips of her fingers played with his caged penis.

“Yes, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied hoarsely.

“But you haven’t earned relief, not today, anyway, have you?” Miss Worthing said, almost in sorrow.

“Please, Miss Worthing…” Jim started but he didn’t know how to finish. He could feel the warmth of her body, the silky feel of her dress against his back and her fingers were sweet agony as his ever swelling penis strained against the confines of its cage. Did he want her to stop; no, never, but could he stand much more; he seriously doubted it.

“Well?” Miss Worthing asked, her voice a purr.

“Please, Miss Worthing…” He tried again but it was no good. He knew he needed but he didn’t know what he needed. “I don’t know.” He confessed eventually.

“But I do know.” She said softly. “That’s why I’m in charge and you’re not. Now come along and have some supper.”

She led Jim back to the kitchen and suddenly they were back to normal again, well, as normal as it could be with Jim still dressed in only his panties and apron. Whilst Jim set two places at the table Miss Worthing boiled up some water and got some fresh penne from the fridge. In no time they were sitting down to two bowls of penne marinara and Miss Worthing was discussing plans to rearrange which horses were in which stalls. Jim found it hard to switch so quickly as he was still distinctly uncomfortable from the unrelieved tension from his groin.

“Now then.” She said as Jim cleared away the plates and stacked the dishwasher. “It’s time we got down to some serious training work. Come along.”

It was still light and Jim was a little concerned as he followed Miss Worthing across the stable yard wearing only his panties. However he had no choice in the matter and he was soon standing in the tack room watching as Miss Worthing opened the pony tack cupboard.

“Let’s see…” She said as she took out a series of harnesses. “This one…” She held the harness up against him. “Yes, let’s try this one.”

She turned to Jim and started to fit the complex strapping around him. It started with a stout collar from which straps led downwards attaching to other straps running around him at chest and waist height. Then he was fitted with wrist cuffs which had quick release clasps attached so that they could be fastened and unfastened at will. These were then attached to ‘D’ rings either side of his waist.

“Stand up straight.” Miss Worthing ordered. “I’ve told you, it’s all about posture. You can’t look you’re best unless you stand tall and proud.”

“Yes, Miss Worthing” Jim replied.

“And no talking in pony gear.” Miss Worthing snapped straight back at him. “It really is the basics for you.”

Whether he was allowed to talk or not became a moot point as the next piece of tack was the bridle. Miss Worthing chose one with a standard bit so Jim wasn’t exactly gagged but the metal fitment went into his mouth and he would not have been able to talk intelligibly even were it permitted.

Miss Worthing then helped him out of his panties before starting on his pony boots. Again, as the leather straps embraced his calves they gave him a sense of security and, once they were fitted, he did indeed stand tall and proud, just as requested. Then she reached for the tail and Jim’s heart sank.

“Come along, you’re going to have to get used to this.” Miss Worthing said firmly. “Now bend over the bench and spread your legs. Jim did as he was told and moments later he felt the well lubricated tip of the butt plug pushing against his sphincter. Oddly it did seem easier than the last time and, whilst it was still uncomfortable there was something about it that was just the opposite and, almost against his will, he found himself pushing back against it, urging it deeper inside him.

“There, I knew you’d come to like it. They all do in the end.” Miss Worthing said lightly. “Now stand up and let’s have a look at you.”

“Not bad, not bad at all.” She said as she walked round him. “Let’s see what you’re like with the cage off.”

She took the keychain off from around her neck and released Jim’s penis from its cage which she put in her pocket. Immediately his penis sprung to attention and Miss Worthing wrapped her fingers around it and gently stroked it up and down.

“There, that’s better. At least one part of you knows how to stand tall and proud. Keep him nice and stiff for me.” She let go of him and attached a rein to his bridle. “Now come along into the barn.” Grabbing a few bits and pieces from the cupboard she led him through the stable block to the barn. All the time she was correcting his gait, telling him to keep his head up and to look straight ahead. Jim did his best but she’d reinforce her points with a quick flick of her riding crop against his buttocks and, even before they got to the arena, his backside was quite sore.

At first Miss Worthing simply had him march up and down whilst she explained the difference between the ‘walk’, the ‘trot’ and the ‘canter’. There didn’t seem to be much to distinguish them as far as Jim was concerned but Miss Worthing, and her riding crop, differed and he was out of breath and sweating freely before she was anywhere near satisfied. His concentration wasn’t helped by the way his stiffened penis bounced around in front of him. Finally she called him back to stand beside her.

However, it didn’t stop there. Miss Worthing went under the bleachers and pulled out the sulky and Jim was positioned between the shafts, his wrist cuffs attached to suitably placed ‘D’ rings. Again she admonished him for not standing to attention. “How many times do I have to tell you; I want you and this” she stroked his penis again “standing tall and straight. I want you to make me proud of you. You’re a pony on display not some sort of slob.” She went to get in the sulky but stopped herself. “Good heavens this thing is dusty.” She said as she looked it over. “There’s no way I’m can use this in its present state. I want it spotless before tomorrow. Understood?” Jim nodded. “OK, I want four laps of the arena, as quick as you can.”

Even without a passenger the sulky was awkward at first and, although he was getting used to the pony boots, he still wasn’t adept in them so he was slow and clumsy around the course. Miss Worthing had produced a stopwatch and was keeping track of the times.

“Come on!” She urged. “You’ve got to do better than that. Keep your head up! Eyes front! Keep those knees up! Faster! Faster! One more lap…OK, that will do.”

She came over to where Jim was stood, panting hard, trying to get his breath back.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She said putting a hand on his shoulder. “Your lap times are pretty pathetic but we can work on those. Now, let’s get you out of this tack and sorted out.”

She unfastened him from the sulky and led him back to the tack room. There she removed his boots and harness but noticeably neither his bridle, nor his tail. Still leading him by the reins she took him through to the bathroom. There she tied off his rein to the towel rail and fetched a bucket of water and a sponge.

“What?” She said, noticing the quizzical look in his eyes. “Did you think I wouldn’t wash down my pony after his exercise?”

She filled the bucket with lukewarm water and added some shower gel. She then dipped the sponge in and started to wash him down, starting at the shoulders and working downwards. Although she was being totally matter of fact about it all Jim couldn’t help but find it incredibly erotic and when she started on his groin the feel of the sponge around his unfettered genitals was heavenly and he was as hard as he’d been all evening. However it was all to brief a spell before she moved on and was washing his legs.

That completed she fetched a towel and rubbed him down. Again the impersonal treatment was somehow far more erotic than had he not been her ‘pony’. Indeed, out of role the idea of her washing him was unthinkable; he should be serving her, not the other way around but, like this, she was looking after her possession and it reinforced her ownership. Finished at last she took him back to the tack room where she told him to bend over the bench whilst she removed his tail. Then, finally, she unfastened his bridle and he stood before her, stark naked.

“That wasn’t too bad, I suppose.” She said, looking him over. “You’re still a bit sloppy but we’ll work on that. Now, we’d best get this thing back in its cage.”

Jim’s face fell as any last hopes of getting any relief were dashed. He’d rather got his expectations up after all the work in the barn.

“What?” Miss Worthing asked quizzically. “Did you expect that, after your complete failure to do any dusting, your rather pathetic attempts as a pony were going to earn you anything?”

“No, of course not, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied.

“Then I should sue your face for slander.” Miss Worthing laughed. “Now come along.”

She retrieved the cage from her pocket and, as Jim was still semi erect, she had to squeeze him into it. He couldn’t suppress a wince as the padlock clicked tight crushing him inside.

“Never mind, who knows, maybe tomorrow.” She said and, to Jim’s amazement, kissed him lightly on the lips. “Now put your panties back on. This place needs tidying, the bathroom needs cleaning and the sulky needs sorting so that I can ride in it tomorrow. When you’re tidying away the pony tack don’t forget the clean the plug off your tail and dry it thoroughly before you put it away; it costs money and I don’t want it ruined. When you’ve done that you can go.”

Jim looked around him. He had at least an hour’s work ahead of him and it was already getting late. “Can I get dressed first?” He asked.

“Just your panties for now, the rest when you’ve finished. Goodnight, stable boy.” Miss Worthing said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With a sigh Jim watched her go.