Stable Boy

What with one thing and another it was quite late before Jim had finished all his tasks and, by the time he had got home, he was straight off to bed. However it was quite a while before he could sleep. The cage around his penis seemed extra troublesome that night and that, combined with the way that, in his mind, he could still feel the flick of Miss Worthing’s riding crop against his buttocks, meant that he was tossing and turning for quite a while. The frustration was really getting to him; his testes were aching and he wished he could do something about it and he wondered vaguely if she appreciated his sacrifice.

His frustration level had hardly diminished when Miss Worthing came to inspect him the next morning and she noticed that his penis was semi erect, or as much as it could be within the cage.

“Hmm… You look a little… uncomfortable.” She commented as she fondled his testes. “Am I cruel to keep you caged up like this? It is for your own good, you know.”

“Please, Miss Worthing…” Jim started but again, he wasn’t sure what to say.

“Hmm…?” Miss Worthing’s fingertips stroked him gently.

“Please, I want to wear the cage… for you, I mean… but… but…” Jim stammered.

“But a young man like you finds it hard not to have relief every now and then. Is that it?” she suggested.

“Yes, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied, relieved that she understood.

“Then you had best try asking nicely.” She let go of him and stood back pointing to the ground in front of her. Jim got down off the box and knelt before her, leaning forward to kiss the toes of her shoes.

“Please, Miss Worthing.” He begged. “Please take pity on your stable boy. I need to come so badly. I don’t think I can take another day without…”

“Do you deserve to come?” Miss Worthing asked.

“No, Miss Worthing.” Jim admitted. “I only ask… beg… because I need to come so badly.”

“Well, you can go on needing, at least for a while.” Miss Worthing was suddenly stern. “Your housework was distinctly below par yesterday; maybe this will be an incentive for you to do better today. Now I’ve wasted more than enough time on this.” She sat down and stretched out her legs. “Come along, sort out my boots.”

Jim shuffled round to fetch the boots and kneel before her. Once he had slipped off her shoes she wiggled her stockinged toes against his groin making Jim's penis strain uncomfortably against the cage.

“Maybe, if you’re good today, who knows, maybe I will take pity on you.” She smiled down at him. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Of course, Miss Worthing.” Jim replied as he reached for her boots.

For the rest of the morning Jim was far too busy to care about anything but keeping up with the demands of the girls as they arrived to take their horses out. It would seem that, now that they were in the school holidays, many of the girls planned on spending nearly every day down at the stables. Jim, off his own bat, set up a holiday list so that he would know which owners were away so as to be able to schedule the stables around this.  He ended up with a piece of paper tacked to one of the uprights in the main stable block and, at half past eleven he was chasing up yet another lost bit of tack when he found Miss Worthing reading it.

“Did you organise this?” She asked.

“Yes, Miss Worthing; I hope you don’t mind.” He replied.

“No, not at all; it’s very good, very good indeed. Who knows, maybe you will get lucky tonight.” She laughed. “Now, I want you up at the house. You’ll find a basket of washing in the utility room and, whilst that’s on the go, you can wipe down the bathrooms. OK?

“Of course, Miss Worthing” Jim hurried off to obey and, five minutes later he was standing in the utility room dressed only in his panties and apron staring at the basket of washing. He knew even less about this than about ironing but he found the instructions on the back of the box of powder and, after sorting the dirty clothes into suitable piles, soon had things on the go. Then he went to the downstairs bathroom and, after a little searching, found the cleaning things in the cupboard under the sink.

As he scrubbed away he found that there was something about cleaning Miss Worthing’s house that felt… right. He’s never been much of a one for housework and, if his mother had asked him to clean the bathroom at home he would have objected strongly but this was very different; he really wanted to do his best and not just because he had hopes of some relief later. He was still scrubbing away when he heard the washing machine go into its spin cycle and he went downstairs to empty it. He took the clothes out to the back garden and was hanging them on the line when Miss Worthing appeared. He turned and gave her a curtsey.

“How are you getting on?” She asked.

“I’m about half way through.” Jim replied. He wished he could say that he was finished but he knew he had to tell the truth.

“Good. I’ll be back in an hour to check up on you.”

“Yes, Miss Worthing” Jim said and, with another curtsey, he went back to the washing.

He was pretty pleased with the state of the bathrooms by the time he’d finished. He’d got all the porcelain gleaming and the chrome taps as shiny as new. He went back down to the utility room and was tidying around there when Miss Worthing came in through the back door.

“All done?” She asked.

“Yes, Miss Worthing”

“Well, stop and have some lunch with me. Don’t worry, the stables will look after itself for five minutes. The girls know to come to the house if there’s a real panic.” Miss Worthing went to the bread bin and fetched out a crusty loaf. Then from the fridge she found white wine, cheese and butter whilst instructing Jim to find the Branston in the larder. They had barely sat down when there was a knock at the back door. Jim jumped up, more than aware of his state of undress.

“Don’t worry.” Miss Worthing laughed. “There’s only one person who comes to the back door with a knock like that. Go and answer it.”

Jim got up and nervously went to the door, opening it a crack and peering round it. Mrs Johnson stood there waiting patiently.

“Please come in, Mrs Johnson.” Jim said, giving a curtsey. Mrs Johnson swept past him into the kitchen.

“Love the apron.” Mrs Johnson said to Miss Worthing. “Let me guess, you’ve got him doing the housework now.”

“Only while Mrs Brown is on her hols.” Miss Worthing replied. “Have some bread and cheese.”

Jim fetched a spare plate and glass as Mrs Johnson sat down at the table.

“My, you have got him trained.” She said. “How about lending him to me again; I could do with having the housework done.”

“Housework! That’s what you’ve got that au-pair for. You’d want Jim for something quite different and, no, you’re not having him.” Miss Worthing was mock stern.

“Spoilsport.” Mrs Johnson retorted. “Anyway, I came to check up on whether you still wanted me for training tonight.”

“Yes, please. Around about eight if you can.”

“No problem. Now what’s the goss?”

Miss Worthing and Mrs Johnson discussed the news of the village almost as if Jim weren’t there and he felt a bit of a spare wheel so he finished off his sandwich and stood up from the table.

“Please, Miss Worthing.” He said when she looked up at him. “I think I ought to be getting back to the stables. I’ll do the washing up later, if that’s all right with you.”

“OK, off you go.” Miss Worthing said.

“Priceless, just priceless.” Jim heard Mrs Johnson laugh as he headed for the back door. 

Miss Worthing may have been happy to leave the stables unattended but when he got back there Jim found more than the usual amount of chaos and a couple of girls searching through the tack room looking for the leather polish. He sorted them out and then went around checking for other trouble spots. He found that Kathy had arrived and was busy in Truffles’ stall and he went over to ask her about her holiday plans.

“Err… Miss Brown…” He started, nervously.

“Hi Jim.” Kathy said as she looked up. “What’s up?”

Jim explained about the holiday list and Kathy agreed that it was a good idea and promised to bring her holiday dates in as soon as possible. Jim was amazed at the change in her. Whereas before she had been distant at best, often to the point of surliness, today she was bright and cheerful and surprisingly friendly.

“Have you seen Miss Thornton?” She asked, vigorously brushing Truffles’ coat in an unsuccessful attempt to appear unconcerned.

“No, she’s not been around today.” Jim replied.

“She said she might come over for a ride…” Kathy seemed disappointed. “Of course.” She suddenly brightened up. “She won’t be here until after work. We’re going out riding together; she’s really nice and she’s a smashing horsewoman.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for her.” Jim promised before being called away to another minor emergency.

It was gone four-o-clock when Miss Thornton arrived and Jim found her wandering around the stable block.

“Oh, hello.” She said brightly. “Is Kathy Brown around?”

“I believe she’s out in the paddock.” Jim replied. “Shall I fetch her for you?”

“No, don’t trouble yourself. Maybe you could help me saddle up Morning Dew and I ride out and find her.”

“Of course, Miss Thornton.” Jim went to fetch the saddle from the tack room and took it to Morning Dew’s stall where she was already getting things ready. With the two of them working together it was only five minutes or so before she was mounted up and riding out into the afternoon sunshine. As he watched her go Jim saw Mrs Johnson coming over from the house.

“Hi there, puppy dog.” She called out brightly.

“Please, Mrs Johnson…” Jim started.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe from me. Celia’s marked my card and no mistake. Now, where’s that daughter of mine?”

“She’s out in the paddock.” Jim answered. “Shall I fetch her for you?”

“Yes, please.”

Jim went out and called to Kirsty and her friends to come back in. Reluctantly the four youngsters rode their ponies back to the stable block and Jim had his hands full as he helped them settle their horses down for the night. Mrs Johnson stood by and looked on with an amused smile on her face until, with all done and dusted, she chivvied the girls towards the waiting car.

“I’ll see you later.” She said to Jim with a mischievous grin. “I can hardly wait.”

As the afternoon wound down the girls returned their horses to the stables and Jim was once again in heavy demand. It was almost six when Miss Thornton and Kathy returned but, as before, they kept themselves to themselves and didn’t hinder Jim. Finally, at nearly quarter past he was able to close the gates to the yard and head off up to the house. Once he had stripped off down to his panties he knocked and went inside but there was no sign of Miss Worthing. He was just about to kneel down and wait when the sight of the washing flapping in the evening breeze caught his eye so he put on his apron, gathered the basket and went out to fetch it in. Once he had done so he set up the ironing board in the utility room and set to.

“Well, well, well.” Miss Worthing remarked when she found him hard at work. “Someone’s a bit keen.”

“I just thought…” Jim started.

“You just thought that if you got in my good books you might just get some relief tonight.” Miss Worthing cut across him. There was an awkward pause. Jim hadn’t even thought of that, he just wanted to serve and the suggestion that it was otherwise had hurt him and this was written across his face. “Maybe I’m being a little unfair. It was sweet of you to do it without being told.” Miss Worthing conceded. “Now, you’ve still got quite a bit to do. I’ll make supper while you finish off.”

It almost felt homely with Jim working away at the ironing in the utility room and Miss Worthing busy in the kitchen preparing salmons steaks in a white wine sauce, and, to add to the air of normality Miss Worthing used the opportunity to discuss some of the issues from the stables and how some of the horses belonging to the less active owners would need exercising from time to time. Jim finished off the ironing and came through to the kitchen in time to lay the table and, on Miss Worthing’s instruction, he opened a bottle of wine from the fridge. Then they sat together at the kitchen table and enjoyed their salmon steaks. Once the meal was over and Jim had done the washing up they went over to the stable block ready for the evening training session.

Once Jim was back in full pony tack Miss Worthing once again removed the cage and, once again, Jim’s penis sprung to attention. She reached down and took it between the tips of her fingers and played with it gently. Then, still holding his penis she led him out along main aisle of the stable block and into an empty stall. She attached a rein to his bridle and tied it off to a loop attached to the wall. Then, without another word, she was off.

There was nothing Jim could do but wait. He could hear Miss Worthing pottering around in the stables and he fervently hoped that she would find nothing remiss. Then, after what seemed like hours but was probably only fifteen minutes or so, he heard the main door open and the sound of female voices. He remembered that Mrs Johnson was due to arrive and he assumed this was her. A few minutes later Miss Worthing returned, untied his rein and led him out of the stall. There, waiting patiently in the centre aisle, was Mrs Johnson in full pony gear. Whilst, in Jim’s opinion, no woman could match Miss Worthing for style, grace or sheer class, Mrs Johnson looked superb; the pony boots emphasised her shapely legs and the straps of her harness showed off her charms to good advantage. She stood tall and proud and showed not a trace of modesty; she knew she looked good and had no reason to be ashamed in any way. However, Jim didn’t have time to gawp; Miss Worthing led him over and arranged him standing next to her.

“Hmm… Not so bad.” Miss Worthing conceded as she stood back and looked them over. “Now, if this is going to work, I want you two perfectly in step all the time. OK, walk on.”

Mrs Johnson led off and, half a second later, Jim followed. Miss Worthing immediately stopped them and explained to Jim that they were to start on the word ‘on’ and that they were to lead off on the left foot. With an ‘OK, let’s try that again’ she started them off for the second time and this time they managed to keep some semblance of synchronisation. The difference between the two of them was immediately apparent; this was far from the first time that Mrs Johnson had been Miss Worthing’s pony and she had the high-stepping gait off pat as if it were her normal way of walking. Jim, on the other hand, was getting a constant barrage of instructions to keep his knees up, to keep looking forward, to stop slouching, to keep in step, to keep his chin up… each point reinforced by a flick from the riding crop. As they came to the main arena Miss Worthing had them split with Mrs Johnson going round one way and Jim going the other. Fortunately Jim had seen enough real horse shows to realise what was wanted but, even so, he was struggling to keep up. As they came together at the far end of the arena they were facing each other and Mrs Johnson gave Jim a big smile and a wink. His face, by comparison, was a study in concentration. Once they had rejoined Miss Worthing had them trot over to the centre of the arena where they stopped.

“It’s a start, I suppose.” Miss Worthing said reluctantly. “Come along, let’s try it again.”

She led them back out into the aisle of the stable block and put them once more through the same routine. Then she had them circling the arena, sometimes at a walk, sometimes at a trot, constantly using her riding crop to keep them in time and keep them in line. Jim seemed to switch off, lost in the rhythm of the dance, for that was what it was, as he and Mrs Johnson were paraded time and time again around the arena. The exercise, Miss Worthing’s liberal use of the crop as a training aid and close proximity of Mrs Johnson’s all but naked body made the whole experience deeply erotic and, when they were finally brought, puffing and panting to a halt Jim was, if anything, as aroused as he had been at the beginning. He could also tell that, although the signs weren’t as obvious, there was a sparkle in Mrs Johnson’s eye that spoke of her similar arousal.

“OK, that will do.” Miss Worthing said and, still in formation, she drove them out of the arena and back to the tack room. There, as with the previous night, she took off their harnesses and boots but left on their bridles and tails. Having done so she led them to the bathroom and filled the bucket with soapy water.

She started off washing down Mrs Johnson and, as she worked away, Mrs Johnson made no pretence about what this was doing for her. Maybe Miss Worthing spent a moment or two longer than was strictly necessary washing her groin and, with her eyes fixed on Jim she rubbed herself against the sponge, wantonly enjoying what it was doing to her.

Then it was Jim’s turn and, as Miss Worthing washed him down, he realised that he was going to need all his self-control. Somehow, whilst superficially just washing him down, she was far more sensuous than she had been the day before and, when she got to his penis she was extra thorough, soaping him up and down, up and down until the pressure was almost more than he could bear and, when she stopped, he couldn’t prevent a whimper of disappointment escaping.

“Is this what my pony needs?” She asked taking his penis in her soapy fingers and sliding them up and down his rigid shaft. Jim pleaded with his eyes; he felt overwhelmed, his Goddess stroking him like this and all the while Mrs Johnson looking on with an amused smile on her face, this was more than he could take, his senses reached overload and he lost all self control as a massive spurt of jism shot from his penis, followed by another, and another and…

Shaking with emotion he stood there. Was this what she wanted or had he failed some sort of test? He felt weak and foolish, losing control like that but, for the life of him he couldn’t have done otherwise.

“You did need that, didn’t you?” Miss Worthing said looking down at the mess on the floor. “Now, let’s finish off here.” She plied the sponge on his groin and legs and in no time she had finished off and the three of them returned to the tack room. She bent the two of them over the bench and removed their tails before unfastening Jim’s wrists and standing back.

“It’s time we got your cage back on.” She said. Obediently Jim stood on the box and put his hands behind his back as she reattached it. “There, that’s it for tonight. You can sort our the rest. Don't forget to clean the bathroom; I want this place spotless before you leave and you…” she turned to Mrs Johnson, “You’re coming up to the house.”

She led Mrs Johnson away, still in her bridle leaving Jim unfastening the straps around his head and contemplating the mess that he knew needed clearing up before he left for the night. Part of him felt used and manipulated, he’d danced to her tune all evening and his reward had been… his reward had been heaven. Sure he wished he was up at the house with Miss Worthing and Mrs Johnson rather than back here clearing up the mess but he knew that overall this is what he wanted. The thrill of being used was a heady medicine, one he would return to time and time again.