Horsemaster's Bride

It was beyond foolish, what she was doing. Shani knew that. She was risking everything...her job, her freedom, her life.

All for a bath.

But not two hours ago she'd been shoulder deep in a bay mare's birth canal, struggling to turn the foal and she smelled like it. But both mare and foal were thriving, thanks to her Master's quick thinking and Shani's small arms.

Shani tried to limit her trips to the oasis to new moons and dark, cloudy nights. But tonight the moon was half full and only partially obscured by drifting clouds. The desert sky was twinkling with millions of stars, shining like the Sheikh's bejeweled tack. Only necessity drove her to take such risks.

With her precious sliver of goat's milk soap clenched in one hand and a small dagger in the other, she crept around the palm trees, timing her steps with the cloud cover, darting from shadow to shadow until she reached the water's edge. There she slowed and stripped, eyes darting from shadow to shadow.

Shani eased into the chilly water, careful not to splash and draw the attention of one of the guards on night watch. This was going to be a quick wash. Already, her teeth began to chatter. She splashed and soaped her body, cleaning away blood, dirt, horse hair and other smelly detritus and feeling markedly more human. She unwrapped her turban at the last minute and unwound her braided hair. After cleaning the rest of her body so thoroughly, it felt sinful to leave the sweaty locks unclean.

The hot, tangled mass tumbled down her back to her waist, and she spent a few more frigid moments washing, rinsing and oiling her hair. It wasn't her favorite jasmine fragrance, but the spicy oil the men used. It helped her hide better.

"Ajay! Where are you, boy?"

Her Master's call sent a bolt of fear through Shani. She scrambled for her clothing, frantically pulling it on. He was too close! What was he doing out here?

The moon chose that moment to peek out from behind the clouds. Reflecting off the water, it illuminated the entire oasis. Shani saw the moment her Master saw her, half dressed and dripping in the moonlight.

He moved a few steps forward, hand going for his blade. Shani then saw, in perfect clarity, the moment he figured it out. Shock froze his bold features, then anger and some other emotion brightened his eyes and cheeks.

She forgot she was indecent, breasts still exposed, forgot how to breathe, forgot that she should be running, taking her chances in the desert instead of facing the sheikh's wrath, until her Master said something.

"Ajay?" His eyes darted from her face to the rest of her, staring a moment too long. She started dressing quickly, her skin flushing red. "Yes, the build is the same. And the face. What's your given name?"

She'd been this man's assistant for five years, living in close quarters, working and eating together daily. She knew his moods and temperament better than she knew her own. Why was she frightened? Why couldn't she speak? He knew Ajay, but Ajay was a man, with liberties and rights. She was now a dead woman walking.

He took a step forward, his frown severe. "I asked you a question and expect an answer, woman."

Shani flinched but managed to whisper her name.

"Shani," he rolled her name on his tongue, like tasting a fresh cup of coffee and nodded to himself.

An unusual flutter went through her at the sound of her name on his lips, one she'd felt more and more around him. She should have left when the flutters first started, but he was the fairest master she'd had thus far. Now, it appeared her luck had run out.

"You know I have to take you to the sheikh. My position demands it." Shani shook her head and took a step back, ready to plead her case or run, if the situation warranted it. "You know that impersonating a man is a death sentence." She took another step back, he took two forward. His eyes held hers, capturing her like a flute charms a cobra. "But I can help you."

"How?" The question came out without her permission and he smiled, fishing in his robe for a few seconds then holding up a leather thong. It looked like a broken rein.

"I can take you before the sheikh and he'll have you stoned at dawn. I'll be out an assistant and you'll be dead. Or," he was too close now, smelling of horse, and sweat, and spice, close enough for Shani to feel the heat of him. She hadn't realized he'd moved. "Or you could become my wife. The choice is yours."

Shani couldn't breathe. Death or marriage? Both were permanent sentences, though one could be a much longer source of misery for her. But she knew her Master, didn't she? He was kind and patient to the sheikh's horses, never drinking to excess or prone to violent outbursts. But a woman had far less value than a horse...

She held out her hand in response, her jaw set, determined to survive another night. She would run if she had to. She'd done it before. Her Master shook his head. "I need to hear you say the words."

Shani took a deep breath and forced the words to sound firm. "I will be your wife... on one condition."

"If it is in my power to give, it is yours," he smiled. His rough hand closed around hers. Shani fought the urge to pull away. She wondered if she could. "Consider it a wedding gift."

It was Shani's turn to smile. "I want to remain your assistant, Ajay, throughout the day. I love the work and the animals. It is why I donned the disguise in the first place. In exchange, I will be an obedient, submissive wife at night."

She hadn't realized his hand was in her thick mane until he tugged, tipping her head back to meet his stern gaze. "You will be that always, if the sheikh agrees to your proposition or not."

Shani shook her head slowly, tugging at his hold like a horse with the bit in its teeth. He didn't budge. "No, my lord, I would not." She gave him a sweet smile. "I will make that chestnut mare look an angel in comparison to my behavior if you do not convince the sheikh I am of value working in his stables."

Her Master shuddered and rolled his shoulder, the one the chestnut mare in question had almost bitten a chunk out of when he'd turned his back on her. That had been a few years ago, and now he refused to train any chestnut mare. Any born to the sheikh were promptly weaned and sold off.

"Should the sheikh not agree, I will enjoy breaking you in much more than I did the mare." He held his hand out, palm up, in challenge. "She accepted her rider eventually, just as you will."

Something hot flashed through her, along with a strong dose of fear. Shani swallowed thickly and replied, "And I will enjoy making you regret this." She had no choice but to align her palm and arm against his, and together they wrapped the cord from wrist to elbow, seven times in total, and tied it off.

Her husband to be watched her tuck her mass of hair back into her turban, before shaking his head. "Braid it first."

Shani tried, but with one hand turned and tied, it was useless. Before she could ask, her Master ran his fingers through her hair, mindful of their bound hands and the way he stretched her arm and shoulder as he worked through tangles and braided the hair. When it was to his satisfaction, he tucked her braid under the turban and lead her away from the oasis, weaving through the tents that was their camp until they reached the biggest. The sheikh's.

Shani's knees threatened to give out as they crossed into the front room. He could tell her master no and have her killed. A servant went to announce them to the sheikh and returned a minute later, beckoning them through another chamber. Shani hadn't realized their twined hands were hidden until she and her Master were bowing before the sheikh. He stepped aside, exposing their bound hands and tugging off Shani's turban in one movement.

"You've put me in a predicament," the sheikh said, frowning at Shani even though he spoke only to her Master. "And you want this harlot?"

Her Master nodded gravely. "I do, and she has agreed. I have one request, however."

The sheikh motioned her Master to a small, screened alcove, where they got comfortable on cushions and lit pipes provided by silent servants.

Shani was made to sit just outside the alcove, where she could hear but not participate in the negotiation, thanks to her bound hand. It chafed, hearing them discuss her merits without any input. They discussed the herd in more favorable terms! And Ajay would have been included in such talks!

Her Master drove as hard a bargain as any man, and it did not take long for him to get his way. Shani almost smiled when the alcove opened; the sheikh did not lose a negotiation often. And then the sheikh addressed her and her fears returned.

"Impersonating a man is a grave offense, one I cannot allow to go unpunished. Before you leave for your wedding night, you will be caned ten times to remind you of this. Raise your robes to expose yourself and bend over."

Her Master had only beat her once in her entire time as his apprentice. She'd yanked too hard on a young horse's bridle, trying to control the fractious beast. But even then the blows had been over her clothes and not as severe as this. The worst part of the punishment was spending the night outside the tent with no blanket while the colt was brought inside. She'd never reacted to a horse in anger again.

The sheikh picked up a thin cane and Shani did as she was told, knowing her Master would be of no help. To her surprise, he pulled her against him, so their bound arms resting between their bodies and his other arm wrapped around her back, holding up her robe.

Fire erupted across her backside and thighs, a continuous, agonizing rain. Shani yelped, sobbed, and screamed, hopping from foot to foot, but thankfully, the sheikh didn't draw the blows out. She could feel him watching, eyeing her dancing flesh. Her whole body flushed red. After all these years as a man, now two men had seen her nakedness... in the same night! The humiliation was almost as bad as the pain.

The blows kept falling for what felt like hours. Her Master held her up and in place the entire time, and when the blows stopped, whispered soothing nonsense as her tears fell while he readjusted her robes. The scratchy cloth rubbed her skin raw from buttocks to knees. The blows had been hard and well placed. She wouldn't sit comfortably for a week. She shuddered to think how she'd hurt exercising the horses in the week to come. Shani wanted to leave, hide in her tent and never show her face again, but the sheikh spoke once her sniffling stopped.

Shani's master and now husband turned her around so they both were facing the sheikh.

"Omar, this is your wife. Protect and care for her as is your duty. Shani, this is your husband and master, honor, obey and care for him in all things. Show him the respect he deserves. May your marriage bed be fruitful and your years together long."

They both made the appropriate responses, bowed low and backed out of the tent, Shani seething from the vows as much as the punishment. She'd gotten used to her freedoms as a man. But she remembered her and her... new husband's bargain. She would be obedient even if it went against every freedom she'd learned to enjoy.

It didn't take long to return to their tent, even with Shani's wobbly knees. Her heart threatened to stop when her Master... husband turned her to his room instead of her own. She knew she couldn't fight him; she had a bargain to uphold. So she struggled out of her robe until it dangled from both of their hands.

Her husband stared at the cloth tangled around them then at her as he withdrew a knife, cutting the obstruction away. When it fell to the carpeted floor, Shani slowly sank to her knees, pulling him down with her. She couldn't breathe. Her body was taught and trembling as he settled down on top of her.

His breath was warm in her ear. "Eager to have me?"

She flushed hotly, her body burning red. "I have helped you breed many mares. I know how this works."

Instead of mounting and rutting her, his free hand slid between her legs. Shani tried to close them, but a knee kept them wedged open. Her startled gasp was loud when she felt his finger there, had her bucking, trying to get away. His hand smoothed from shoulder to hip, his soothing sounds familiar. He used the same motions on spooked horses. His other hand didn't move.

"Yes, I have a cunt," Shani grunted when she couldn't dislodge him, trembling in fear. "Get on with it."

"So eager to be made mine," her husband laughed. He rolled them over so he was lying next to her on top of his cushioned bed. "You may know about horses breeding, but humans can do it that way, or others. I'm going to show you another way that you'll enjoy."

Shani snorted. The mares squealed and screamed when the stallions mounted them. Why should this be any different?

With his larger body curled around hers, her bound arm lodged underneath them, Shani couldn't move much at all. Her husband's hand kept stroking from shoulder to hip until her eyelids began to droop. It took her a few drowsy minutes to realize his hand had moved, drifting over her breasts. Horses didn't do that. But then again, horses didn't have breasts either. When her shock waned, a warm tingling sensation spread from her breasts to her cunt. Her nipples tightened into hard, aching points and she wanted to press them into her husband's hand as it circled, twisted and tugged at them and pull away. The growing feeling in her cunt scared her.

She pulled away, but that only caused her rear to brush into something long and hard and warm. Shani hadn't seen her husband's cock and it wasn't, to her relief, as big as a stallion's, but there was no way it would fit inside her.

When their flesh touch her husband groaned and pulled her tight against him, his free hand moving from her breasts to her cunt, holding her trapped as he rubbed his cock in between her cheeks, his hips moving up and down, the tip of his cock pressing against both openings. Her cheeks heated and she struggled, trying to break free. "No, not there. I can't fit you."

His fingers parted her cunt, holding her in place as his fingers brushed up and down, parting her folds. Shani didn't know if she wanted to pull away, which would press her harder against his cock, or push forward. His fingers felt good. They brushed against something that sent hot bolts of pleasure through her.

The slit between her legs felt hungry, restless. Her hips jerked, searching for something, needing more. Her husband understood her wordless need and Shani gasped when his thick finger breached and stretched her.

"So slick," he whispered in her ear. "You want me." Before she could deny it, his finger moved and a long moan escaped. He did it again, and again. Soon it wasn't enough and her need grew.

There was a stretching feeling that wasn't entirely unpleasant and then her channel stretched wider. "Almost ready for me."

Shani couldn't respond if she wanted to. Her husband's thumb hit that sweet spot again and the fire blazing inside her expanded. She cried out, her body stiffening and then relaxing as her whole body jerked under his fingers.

She was floating and then the world tilted. Shani's knees were pushed under her, her arm wrenched behind her back. A weight pressed her down as a slick hand traced the marks from her beating. The gentle brush burned and then soothed while the room filled with the minty warm scent of the liniment they used on the horses. It soothed her welts and again, she relaxed. This wasn't so terrible.

Until her legs were spread wider and her husband's cock brushed her again, the head stretching her cock. Shani tried to jerk and move away, but she was stuck fast. "No!" She bucked and writhed, trying to get away. "You won't fit!"

As if to prove her wrong, her opening burned as his cock pushed inside. "Try to relax," he murmured, moving with her as her hips bucked and body strained to either push him out or keep him in. "It's a tight fit but you'll stretch around me."

Shani felt his steady thrust, the sharp pressure that made it hard to breathe. Tears pricked her eyes. She felt so full, her body fighting the invasion but losing ground. With another thrust that made her cry out as something sharp gave way, Shani felt her husband's hips press flush against her backside. He'd done it.

They were both breathing heavily, and then his weight dropped. The hand supporting him moved to touch her again and Shani felt trapped with his weight laying on her. She could feel her body flexing and clenching, muscles she didn't know she had burning with the strain of accommodating his length and width. Shani still wasn't sure if she liked the feeling, despite the pleasure that started to bubble with every clench.

He groaned. "You're going to unman me. The next time will last longer, I swear it." His hand moved, brushing against that sweet spot between her legs. Pleasure grew to overwhelm the pain, making her almost glad to have him inside her. This thickness was what her body wanted, but the way she clenched and gripped him wasn't enough.

She keened as his finger pressed harder. Pleasure burst again inside her, not as explosive as the first time... until her husband began to thrust. The pull and glide of his thrusts prolonged the explosion and then built to another. Her hips thrust against his, even as her head shook from side to side, little whimpers and cries betraying her. She didn't want to like it. She wanted to fight him, refuse him. He forced her into this relationship and she wanted him to pay. But she hadn't known what she was up against, how her body would betray her.

Now she knew. She could brace herself, learn to resist him. And then when he thought her content, leave and start over somewhere else. Ajay would die and a new boy be reborn.

His thrusts grew harder, more frantic, which only fed her pleasure. His hips slapped against her bruised cheeks, the little sparks of pain adding another sensation. Her vision swirled when she finally got her release. Had she not already been pressed into the cushions, she would have collapsed.

Something hot spurted inside her, filling her and she felt another, smaller explosion that had her crying out. When her husband's jerking ceased, he eased them onto their sides, still buried deep inside her.

He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck that made her shiver and then his breathing deepened, his arm tightening around her middle.

Shani stayed awake all night unable to sleep even when he shifted and softened, falling out of her body. She felt a rush of liquid fall from her and she flushed and a hot sting at her entrance. Her husband's arm relaxed and again, Shani searched his tent for a weapon, anything she could use to cut the cord that bound them and flee for another tribe.

Then she remembered her own blade. Her robe was just out of arm's reach, but with a little careful stretching, she pulled the ruined cloth closer with her toes, freezing every time her husband shifted. The blade was still there!

It took slow stretching but the tent was just starting to grow lighter as she sawed the cord free. Shani slid out from under him and briefly considered killing him. She already knew she couldn't do it, even if it would make her escape easier for a day or so. But once the sheikh found her gone and his Horsemaster dead, he would search the desert for her, not resting until her head was on a spike outside his tent.

No, she would leave, let him live, and hopefully avoid capture. Her cunt twitched, remembering their night together, but she ignored the pain and the lust, refusing to be weak and ruled by her body.

She crept to her room, dressing and packing provisions, most of which was dried food and plenty of water. Perhaps she would find a caravan or another tribe to work for, blend in and disappear, again.