The Stable
Okay, since you have horses, here's something to get you started.
I like my show horses clean, so I think I would start first by cross-tying you in the wash rack and bathing you. I'd make certain it was at the busiest time of day at the barn so everyone could watch.
You wouldn't know if anyone was watching you or touching you unless they spoke, because you would be hooded. I generously lather soap over your wet, nude body. I stroke you mercilessly with a soapy hand until you're rock hard but then retreat. You thrust your hips, seeking contact, but rather than finding it, you receive a hard lash of the crop on your flanks. You instinctively jump away from the offending sting and receive another sharp lash across your hind. I continue until you've set your feet apart to stand perfectly still, open, and completely submissive to me.
Pleased that you've done what I've trained you to do, I go back to lathering soap along your beautiful skin. I avoid your groin area at first, concentrating more on your chest, your stomach, your back. My fingers trace the red stripes along your ass and then slide easily between your butt cheeks.
You tense a bit as my soapy finger teases your anal opening. You know damn well that I'll take you there if it pleases me and I won't care who is watching. I can almost hear what you're thinking as your cock swells, begging to be touched.
A second set of hands are now on you and you know for certain what you already suspected: There are others around. And they're getting turned on by your display.
Fingers gingerly trace the length of your cock as I slip my finger into your anal opening. You let go a breathy moan. You are in desperate need of release.
On any other day I might just give in if you begged me sweetly enough. But not this day. I've taken notice that you're harder than I've ever seen, and I suspect it's because of the attention you're receiving from the other ladies. Part of me is jealous, and the other part of me is irritated because I am so damned aroused by the sight of you like that.
My finger retreats and I brush away the other roaming hands so I can rinse the soap off your body. It's a beautiful, warm, sunny day outside, so I decide I'd rather dry you in the sunshine than towel you off. I lead you outside. A gentle breeze tickles your bare skin, reminding you of your vulnerable state.
Curious ladies, faceless hands to you, follow us out to the grassy paddock. I've cuffed your hands behind your back to prevent you from getting into any real trouble and to encourage others to approach. My hand lovingly strokes your shoulders, biceps and back. I'm so proud of you.
Soon other are joining in. Hands, some aggressive while others tentative, explore your frame. They are all sizing you up. A petite woman seems oddly fascinated with your bum and takes to spanking it a bit to see how you'll react. A taller, older woman is massaging your muscular arms and thighs. They are all pleased with my prize steed and I am beaming with pride. The petite woman begins to talk out loud to me about you. Others do the same. It seems that they are all very taken with you.
One woman reaches down and begins stroking you. I warn you not to come for her. You nod weakly. All the attention has brought you to the edge. Your jaw is tight as you strain to keep from coming.
I sense that the task is becoming extremely difficult as the woman's strokes are becoming more intense.
My crop lands across your backside and this startles the woman into releasing you. I've had as much as I can take. The throbbing between my thighs is driving me mad. I lean close to your ear and speak in a low growl.
"I'll allow you to come, my pet, but it will cost you."
You release a whining noise and nod your head. You are desperate to come.
I walk you to my saddle rack. On it is my brand new, custom, black leather dressage saddle. I tell you where you are and order you to mount my new saddle on the rack. You groan as you lower yourself onto the cool, smooth leather. It feels so good against your hot scrotum. Your feet are still firmly planted on the ground so your weight isn't fully resting on the saddle.
"If you want to get off, you're going to have to fuck my saddle."
You shake your head violently. You know how much the saddle means to me.
Even though I know you're only protesting out of respect for me, I whip you anyway. Three swift, hard lashes across your bare bottom.
"How dare you argue with me. I'm giving you this gift. Take it."
You stand perfectly still for a moment, hesitant to comply but not fully committed to refusal, either. You tilt your pelvis slowly forward. Your blood engorged dick is now lying beautifully along the shiny, oiled leather.
"That's it. Good boy."
Your hips rock forward at the sound of my approving voice, sliding your lovely hard cock over the slick leather surface. I bite my lip so as not to betray my own arousal over watching you.
It doesn't take long for you to release. With a lingering moan, followed by a loud grunt, you thrust your hips forward until white ribbons of cum spew over the pommel of my saddle.
Your chest is heaving as you strain to catch your breath. You feel my fingers on the back of your hood and the release as I remove it. You quickly glance around but no one is in view. We appear to be alone.
"Now, you have a bit of a mess to clean up."
You look down and spot the dots of cum that have landed along the edge of the pommel.
"Lucky for you, most of it shot beyond the saddle. Because I'm not releasing your hands to help you. You're going to do this with your tongue. And if you do a good job, I'll let you use your tongue on me next. It's the least you can do for getting so aroused you had to come on my new saddle."
My Weekend
We'd worked it out in advance. It was my weekend to have you do whatever pleased me. I'd been thinking about it all week, all the things I wanted to do to you and have you do to me. My mind was running through an endless array of possibilities for the two of us, and all of them promised to be memorable.
I instructed you to meet me at my house after work. You would arrive before me, so I told you to let yourself in, and upon entry, remove all of your clothing. The only other directives I left you was to use the facilities, and not, under any circumstance, get yourself off.
About 30 minutes after you arrive, my front door opens. You're expecting it to be me, but your smile soon wanes when you are standing face-to-face with a strange man.
He reaches out his hand to you, "Hello, I'm Robert. Dee sent me here to get you ready for the party."
All sorts of questions are swirling in your mind.
"Party?"
Robert nods but offers no further explanation. He sets his duffel bag down on the sofa and begins a visual examination of the ceiling beams, glancing at you occasionally, as if he's sizing you up.
You're not sure what he's thinking. You search your memory to try and recall if we'd ever discussed inviting a man into our play. You can't remember it coming up in conversation. We'd never set boundaries in that area, and you wonder just what I've cooked up for you. Furthermore, you start to imagine what might happen next and how it might excite you.
It becomes apparent each time he glances at you that his gaze lingers on your manhood. Beyond your control, you respond to his attentive glances by growing stiffer. Your rising cock is noticed by Robert, spreading a slow smile across his face.
It's not your usual cup of tea. You've always worked with men and played with women, as you liked to put it. But Robert was an exceptional man; pretty, like a woman, with straight white teeth, sparkling hazel eyes, and soft curly hair. The only thing manly about him was the defined muscular lines under his shirt, and the now bulging mass in his jeans.
"How much do you weigh?"
His deep voice snaps you out of the momentary trance and you stammer your reply, not even sure how accurate the number is.
Robert nods, takes one long look at your beautiful, hard cock and licks his lips before turning his attention to the door beam over the hall entrance.
"I think this one will do."
You shake your head, not sure what he's talking about and still finding it difficult to think rationally.
Robert rummages through his duffel, placing lengths of rope in neat piles on the sofa cushions. He pulls out three spring-loaded clamps and secures them in place along the beam. Then he walks to the sofa and chooses one of the piles of neatly tied rope and begins to unravel a length of it.
"Come here and stand in front of me with your feet shoulder width apart."
You obey without question, knowing that he is there on your Mistress's behalf.
Without a word, he begins to wrap the soft rope around your torso in an elaborate design, securing you completely in a tight web. His hands move swiftly and expertly over your body. It is evident by his demeanor that he is highly skilled at this artform, and this settles your nerves.
He finishes with one rope and starts on another, moving to your wrists next. Each one is tightly wrapped; long cuffs extending to your forearm. Robert drops to his knees to wrap your thighs in a similar fashion and you try not to think about how close he is to your raging hard-on, and how you can practically feel his hot breath on your balls as he leans in to run rope between your legs.
Robert looks up at you and smiles appreciatively at your response and your cock twitches involuntarily at him. The anticipation of what is going to happen to you next is delicious.
Your are directed to stand in the doorway beneath the secured clamps so Robert can run suspension ties from your wrapped body up to the clamps.
As he moves around you, working the rope through the devices, his tee shirt and jeans often incidentally brush past your sensitive organ. You let go a breathy gasp.
Robert stops what he's doing and chuckles, "You better get used to that. This is the only way to the restroom and there'll be no way to get past without touching you."
Your eyes widen as you recall him using the term party earlier.
