Horsemaster's Captive Pt. 03

Hey y'all. Again, thank you so much for all of the feedback on pt. 2. Even with all of your great guidance, I'm still unsure about how this section will be received. The Horsemaster and Shani's relationship shifts, as does the story's perspective. Writing from the Horsemaster's point of view was enlightening. He showed me another side of himself I hadn't expected. I hope I hit the mark and turned the story into something with a little more hope. If things seem a little too sweet right now, don't worry, there's more kinky stuff coming ;) As always, thank you for reading and leaving suggestions!

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Omar seethed as he walked the colicking gelding, sweating and cursing under the midday sun. His sorriest attempt at an assistant yet had overfed the pack animal, bringing him to this predicament.

The boy tried to tend the horses, but he was duller than sand and had the work ethic of a gnat. The boy should be walking the horse, while Omar rested from a long night of foal watch -the boy fell asleep halfway through- but he couldn't trust the boy not to muck the job up somehow.

He never would have had problems like these with Ajay.

The thought, and the situation had him cursing all over again. He almost wished he'd never went looking for Ajay that night. Wandering by the oasis had been a spur of the moment decision, one that despite the fear, frustration, and anger his discovery caused him, he wouldn't change for all the sheikh's horses. She was worth so much more, even with her infuriating stubbornness.

Right now, his little captive was naked, waiting for him and the thought was delicious. Since the night he'd left her hanging on the tent pole, they'd seemed to come to an accord of sorts. But even as she sucked him whenever he demanded, didn't fight him or disobey his orders, something was missing.

Despite having her whenever he wished, Omar missed the conversations he used to have with Ajay. Now that her secret had been exposed, his little captive had been obedient but not talkative. It seemed to be her last form of rebellion.

He supposed she had reason for her stony silence. Dragging her back and chaining her to his tent might have been a little excessive, but when he'd woken from their wedding night, ready to properly please her before starting the morning chores only to find her gone and their leather tie ripped apart, he'd been furious at her deception. Then when the guards he'd paid to follow her told him of her plans to join another caravan, of the attack and how she fought to defend herself, he was afraid for her. He'd only waited so long to retrieve her because he'd hoped she would turn around and come back to him on her own.

The fact that she hadn't still pricked his pride.

In retrospect -the silent tent gave him a lot of time to think and plan and fantasize- he should have talked to her on their wedding night instead of falling on her like a wild dog. He'd had his reasons; if they hadn't consummated their marriage, anyone that discovered her secret after the fact could have taken her from him. And that was unacceptable. But his actions were inexcusable.

And, he ruefully admitted, they should have talked before he punished her. Omar knew they could reason things out; Shani was intelligent for a woman to hide undetected so long, especially living with him for as long as they did!

And maybe that was why he was so hard on her; he was punishing her for fooling him.

But it felt as if they were stuck on this course now, Master and captive. At least, he thought, until they learned to trust one another. Earning and giving trust were his hardest tasks yet.

The gelding groaned, pawing at the ground, bringing Omar's focus to the immediate problem at hand. The horse stretched, and to Omar's relief, had the bowel movement that signaled the worst of the colic had passed. Omar waved over one of the guards. "Watch him. If he tries to roll, start walking him again. I'll be back by dusk."

The guard bowed. As Horsemaster, his word was as good as the Sheikh's and his orders would be followed just as completely.

It was mid-morning now, and the long night gave him time to formulate his next plan. They needed to build trust and not just for sexual reasons. It wasn't practical to keep Shani tied and bound as much as he enjoyed it. Eventually, he'd need her cooperation, her dedication to stay with him, her skill with the animals. Which is where this afternoon would help. She'd been good. His little filly deserved a reward.

She was just as he left her, kneeling but not bound, save for the chain on her collar. And wonderfully naked. The gold rings topping her nipples and clit a highlight to her soft skin. She knew he was there as soon as he entered but kept her head bowed, the dark brown hair in tangles. She could use a proper bath, something he knew would feel good. Just like that, seeing her here, where she belonged, soothed away all the aggravation the long night brought.

Omar opened a trunk and pulled out a length of fabric, a blue silk dress. Probably the first she'd worn in years. "Put this on, little filly. You've been on your best behavior and so I have a reward for you."

She tentatively took the cool fabric from his hand, a wedding gift he'd planned on giving her the morning after their wedding night. Seeing her slide it on now, covering her lithe body just made him want to rip it off her again. Patience.

Omar busied himself as she dressed, unclipping the chain to her collar to assist her, but otherwise not touching her, even though his fingers itched with the need to smooth the wrinkled dress down the length of her body. His little captive tried to act unaffected by his scrutiny, but she was frozen in place, trying her best not to shift under his gaze. He held up a head covering... and a gag to go under it.

Shani flinched and something in his chest hurt. He felt the urge to explain and didn't fight it. Communication built trust. If he wanted to keep her as something outside of a slave, they would both have to make an effort. "We're leaving the tent, little filly. I want to believe you're going to be good and not cause a scene or try to run. The gag is only insurance." Omar stalked toward her slowly, noting the clenched, trembling fists, red cheeks. She didn't try to run.

When he squatted down to her level, his hand tangling in her hair, she whispered, "No. I'll be good." She swallowed hard and whispered, "please." He nearly groaned at the word. If all went to plan, she'd be saying that word a lot. Omar stood, dropping the gag into his pocket, a silent reminder he could silent her at will. Hopefully it would be enough. He'd hate to not treat her today.

"Do not make me regret this." He held her gaze with a glare, and she nodded, looking only marginally fearful. At least there was no sign of mischief on her face.

When the head covering was secure, leaving only her eyes uncovered, he led her to the entrance of their tent. He did it more for himself to preserve Ajay's identity than for modesty's sake. If she truly was his slave, he'd parade her around naked, showing off his lovely possession. But the thought of another man laying eyes on her had his blood boiling, hand tightening around her waist.

At his urging, they left the tent, her stumbling, grabbing at his arm when the light hit her eyes. Omar used her disorientation to his advantage, mounting the horse waiting for them in front of his tent and pulling her up in front of him. They had to go without a saddle to ride this way, but Omar was afraid that if she rode behind him she'd jump and try to hurt herself. There was still a risk of that riding this way, but if she went down, she'd take him with her. And then she'd be sorry.

He pulled her into his chest, wrapping one arm around her to keep her secure, using legs and seat to urge the horse into a swift canter. In his peripheral on either side, Omar noted the guards, the same men he'd paid to help him find his wife. Now, they would ensure no one disturbed them.

The ride was short and enjoyable, the sun nearing it's zenith, the heat not yet unbearable. Omar slowed his horse as they rounded an eroding rock formation, enjoying the way his and Shani's bodies rocked together. Surely she felt how much she affected him. He focused on their sliding bodies, promising himself he'd wait until after they talked... and then he'd pleasure her, give her what their wedding night should have been. Or maybe he should pleasure her first, make her more agreeable to their talks?

He'd have to see how she reacted to his surprise, first.

Omar heard her gasp of surprise when the small oasis came into view. Ringed by date palms and grass, it wasn't until they reached an opening in the underbrush that she saw his real reason for bringing her out here.

An airy white tent had been set up, the front panels open to reveal a low table full of food in the middle, the ground covered in thick carpets and cushions. Baskets lined the sides of the tent, full of more surprises. When they drew close, Omar slid off, scooping Shani up and carrying her to the tent. One of the guards hobbled his horse where it started to graze, then disappeared.

He stood in between the small body of water and the tent, resting his hands on her shoulders. "What do you want first? To eat or bathe?"

Her head whipped back and forth, caught in indecision. "Bath. Please."

Omar tugged at her clothes, giving into the urge that had gripped him since she put it on. But gently. He didn't want to ruin the dress. The silk sliding off her skin was an erotic caress itself, touching her just as reverently as he wished to. The softness would come soon if his plan worked.

In moments that passed far too quickly, she was completely bare, skin glowing in the sunlight, like it absorbed and reflected the light like a brilliant gem.

He nudged her toward the water, breathing slowly to control himself. "Go on, I'll join you in a moment." He wasn't a young stud. He could wait until she'd been pleasured before seeking his own.

Shani didn't hesitate, running to the water like she was afraid he'd change his mind. Omar turned his back on her, gathering soaps and oils, soft cloths to dry themselves with when they were done. Once he had everything, he stripped as well, joining her in the water as she swam and splashed in the cool water.

Omar waded up behind her, splashing loud enough that he wouldn't startle her. She turned, saw he was naked and blushed, which was just endearing, considering she'd seen all of him, serviced him many times in the past days. Then she looked again, noticed the soaps and oils he carried in small jugs on thongs around his neck, and her face lit up with a genuine smile.

"Turn around and wet your hair. Let me wash you." His request came out more as a command, but she listened, the soft skin of her wet back skimming his front as she ducked under the water, rising moments later. Omar poured soap into his hand, rubbing it into a lather and worked his fingers through the length of her hair, scratching and massaging her scalp.

Her body seemed to melt against his as he worked, moaning her pleasure. Omar couldn't stop himself from growing hard at the feeling of her, the sound. His hands kept moving, pouring more soap into his palms to wash every inch of her body, his fingers stroking the slick folds between her legs until she was moaning in his arms, then moved on, listening to her hiss as he brushed her clit. Not quite healed yet, but he'd planned for that.

He left her panting and unsatisfied, working quickly but thoroughly over the rest of her body, reminding himself he had a plan that didn't include fucking her in the middle of an oasis, no matter how good that sounded.

When she was clean, Omar turned away, diving into the clear water to put distance between them. He surfaced on the other side, and began scrubbing himself, more briskly than he'd touched Shani, trying to tamp down his arousal.

The slight splash of water was his only warning before smaller, gentler, hands brushed his back. Omar stilled almost immediately, waiting to see what she'd do. Shani swam around to pour some soap in her hands, smoothing the fragrant liquid over his chest and shoulders, down his torso. Circling around, she repeated the process down his back and legs. He assumed she was done when she rose from washing his calves, but her front pressed against his back and her hands reached around to clean the one spot she'd skipped.

He stopped breathing, frozen in place as she explored him just as thoroughly as he'd washed her. Omar was painfully hard when her hands stopped moving, one stroke away from being unmanned, chest heaving, heart racing like he'd just ridden a bucking horse and stayed on.

Again he retreated, rinsing under the water, desperately grasping for the last of his control, but it was slipping through his fingers. So he exited the pool of water and started plating his lunch. Shani appeared a few minutes later and knelt next to him, waiting.

"You can get a plate." Again, there was surprise in her eyes and her hesitation hurt. He'd done that to her. "While I enjoy feeding you from my hand, it's not practical for every meal. There will be times I'll insist on it because we both enjoy it, but not now. Today is about rewarding your good behavior, not demanding more than what you want to give."

Her shoulders slumped in what he wanted to believe was disappointment but more likely to be relief. He watched in amusement as she piled her plate high with meats, cheeses, vegetables, dips, and desserts. Apparently he hadn't been feeding her enough.

Omar patted a cushion next to his and without hesitation she sat, digging into her food. He enjoyed watching her enjoy the food more than he enjoyed his own meal. She went back for more, stuffing herself until her stomach rounded. He'd stopped eating long before her, only interrupting her long enough to pull her into his lap and start working the tangles out of her wet hair, twisting the strands into a long braid. He wanted her comfortable with him. If that meant pampering her a bit, that was fine with him. When she put the plate down with a content sigh, Omar started the third part of his plan, reaching for a bottle of perfumed oil. "Lie down on your back, get comfortable." He assumed the sharp gasp was fear, and resolved to remove it from her body.

Wide eyes met his, muscles tense as he leaned over her, holding up the ceramic jug. "Scented oil much more suitable for a woman than the spicy stuff Ajay always wore." He started with her feet, long soothing strokes, feeling wiry muscles tense and release under his fingertips. Slowly, the air between them filled with the exotic scent of orange blossom, vanilla, and cinnamon. Omar focused on finding those tense spots, gently working them to the sound of Shani's appreciative sighs.

As her worked, Shani's eyes closed, the only hint she was still awake was the small sounds she made as he eased sore muscles. Now was a good a time as any to start talking. "My assistant is useless." She stilled under him and he knew he had her attention. "He knows less than nothing about horses and has the work ethic of a gnat. I wind up redoing his chores or not bothering to fetch him at all. He's underfoot, unwilling to learn." Omar released his frustration as he worked her thighs, hoping she heard the truth in his voice. "I've had six such apprentices in the twelve days we've been married. None of them compare to Ajay. I need him back. I need you back, and I can't have that if we don't work together, trust each other."

A riot of emotion crossed her face, too fast to categorize. "Trust? You coerced me into this sham of a marriage, let the sheikh beat me in front of you, forced yourself on me... and that's just the first night! The list goes on after I ran and you hunted me down. How am I to trust you?"

Omar didn't hide his flinch. He regretted most of those actions. "I didn't force myself on you. I had intended to have this discussion before we consummated our marriage." His hands kept moving up her stomach, sides, to one hand, working the joints there. She stayed relaxed under his touch. He didn't dare look at her face. "I lost control, which is one of my regrets. And then when you ran and broke our vows." He shook his head, working up her arm. "You didn't think I'd let you get away, did you?"

There was the spark of challenge in her eyes he'd missed. "I would have been fine."

Omar snorted. "You barely survived the first attack. The next time you might not have been so lucky. Fortunately, my men ensured that man would never attack another boy or girl again."

"You had him killed?"

He gave her a grim smile, moving to her other arm. "He only wishes he were dead."

She blinked at him, looking dazed. "So what do you want? If it was to break me, train me to like serving you, you've done that."

His laugh was low and warm. His hands moved to her chest, circling her breasts, the already hardening nipples. She was so responsive. "You're nowhere near broken. Punished and a bit more respectful, yes. I've only awakened a side of yourself you hadn't known existed. As for what I want, I want Ajay and Shani, my assistant and wife. I want your trust, and for you to trust me. Your submission in our marriage bed or help outside of it." He smiled down at her, thumbs just brushing the tips of her nipples. She shivered. "Nothing unreasonable. Keeping you tied up all the time is. Roll over."

Again she obeyed him. While her head was turned, he grabbed the next part of his plan, a short, fluted toy with a flared base. He massaged the back of her thighs, letting her get used to the feel of him back there, drizzling oil on her skin as he needed it. Her inner thighs and hamstrings demanded a lot of his attention, and Omar could smell the musk of her arousal melding with the perfumed oil. His mouth watered.

"You expect me to go back to being Ajay? And then your wife at night?" her voice was muffled by the cushion.

"Yes. You miss the work and I need his help." His thumbs brushed the cheeks of her ass, digging into the muscle there, making her toes curl. "And you may not admit it yet, but you enjoy my husbandly attentions."

She didn't immediately deny it, which stroked more than his ego. Omar decided to push her a little harder, see if he could get her agreeable to his plan. He drizzled oil between her cheeks, chasing it to her back hole. She tensed almost immediately. "You're always pushing me to do things I don't like."

His finger froze at her puckered entrance. "What have I done that you don't enjoy?"

"You beating me is pretty high on my do not likes."

"Which time? For running off into the desert woefully unprepared or for biting me?" His voice was deceptively calm but on the inside he was shaking with rage. "I warned you what would happen and you know now that I keep my word, especially when it comes to punishing you."

"The piercings?"

A smile touched his lips but it wasn't kind. "You destroyed the leather tie that bound us together, signifying our marriage. I had to think of a permanent way to remind you of our vows. Branding my initials into your skin seemed a little extreme."

She paled and he laughed. "I'm not serious. Anything else you're uncomfortable with?"

"Everything?" Her voice is uncertain, her body still slick.

"Everything I've done is new to you. There's so much more I want to show you, too. I want you to try it. But if it ever becomes too much, I'll stop if you say so." He lightly pushed against that ring of muscle. She pushed against him, not away, and the tip of his slick finger slid inside. "Starting now."

Omar didn't think she breathed for the first couple of strokes. She was probably trying to decide if she liked the feeling. He didn't give her time to decide she didn't, keeping his strokes slow, especially when he added another finger, making her tense and moan when he worked it inside. "Good. Stay relaxed. It'll make this next bit easier."