What I Kept Quiet About My Summer Job at the Stables

The summer I finished high school, I decided I wasn’t going to spend three months sprawled on the sofa at home. I wanted to start university with some money saved, enough to pay for the first month in student housing without asking my parents for it. I had just turned eighteen and had a very naïve idea of what working meant.

I searched for a couple of weeks and found nothing. Nobody wanted to hire a young girl with no experience. The only sure thing I had was walking the neighborhood dogs in the mornings, but that barely covered my bus pass.

One morning, while I was running in the park, my phone rang. It was the temp agency. They told me a position had opened up for an assistant at some stables on the outskirts of town and that my résumé had seemed like a good fit.

—I’m sorry, but I don’t know the first thing about horses —I replied, stopping dead beside a bench—. I only walk my neighbors’ dogs.

—Don’t worry, we already know that —the girl on the other end answered—. It’s to cover for an employee who was injured. It would only be for a week. You’d have to brush the animals and get the equipment ready for the riders. Nothing else.

I spent a while trying to convince her that they had the wrong candidate, until she told me how much I would earn for those seven days. Then everything changed in an instant, and I was the one insisting on starting as soon as possible.

—Tomorrow at eight, at this address —she texted me minutes later—. Enjoy it, and do everything they tell you.

Do everything they tell you. I didn’t attach any importance to that sentence. I should have.

***

I didn’t have a driver’s license, although I’d put on my résumé that I did. Since it was Saturday, I asked my father to drive me there. The grounds were enormous, far bigger than I’d imagined: there was even a practice field and an extremely long row of white stalls gleaming under the sun.

Daniel met me, a guy my age who had worked there for a year. He was friendly, talked quickly, and laughed at his own jokes. He explained what my duties would be, showed me where they kept the brushes and saddles, and took me on a tour of the facilities.

—Let’s hope you don’t end up like Núria —he said, with a smile I didn’t quite understand.

—The woman at the agency told me she injured her leg —I replied—. How did it happen?

Daniel kept smiling, but something in his gaze turned cold.

—By not following instructions. Things work a certain way here. If you respect the rules, nothing happens. If you don’t, things can happen. And they happened to her.

His answer was so strange that I didn’t want to ask anything else. But I remembered that, whatever this place was, it was best to do what I was told.

—These three will be your horses this week —he added, pointing to the stalls at the back—. Brush them and get the saddles ready. Their owners are coming this afternoon to ride them.

He showed me how to do it with the first one, an enormous chestnut horse named Brío, and left the rest to me. Good luck, he wished me before leaving. I admit Daniel knew a hell of a lot about horses, much more than his jokes suggested.

***

The hours passed peacefully. I learned to move through the straw, not to frighten the animals with sudden movements, and to tighten the girths as far as Daniel had shown me. When the sun began to sink, all three horses were gleaming and the saddles hung perfectly aligned. I felt proud, as if I had been doing it all my life.

I was putting the brushes away when someone knocked their knuckles against the stall’s wooden wall.

—May I come in?

—Good afternoon —I said, turning around—. Who are you?

—Brío’s owner, the chestnut. I’m here for him.

The man came in and approached the horse. He stroked its neck, and the animal responded with a calm snort, as if it had known him all its life. I snorted inwardly too, but for another reason: he was incredibly hot. He must have been in his thirties, with dark hair tied back in a short ponytail and riding clothes so tight that every muscle showed. And something else showed too: a thick, heavy bulge hanging over his thigh, impossible to conceal beneath that stretchy fabric.

—So you’re the new girl everyone’s talking about —he said, without taking his eyes off the horse.

—Excuse me?

—Don’t take it the wrong way. They’re talking about you because you’re beautiful. —At last he turned toward me—. But don’t worry. Here, I’m the only one who’s going to touch you. I don’t want a repeat of the other day.

His words left me rooted to the spot. What happened here the other day? What does he mean, he’s the only one who gets to touch me? It took me a few seconds to react, and when I did, I wanted to leave the stall. But he blocked my way without touching me, simply with his body.

—Where are you going? We’re still talking.

He was so close that his scent undid me. I don’t know what he was wearing, but he smelled of leather, clean sweat, and something else I couldn’t name. Every feature of his face became sharper the longer I looked at him.

—Sorry if I sounded harsh —he said, lowering his voice—. But when I saw your photo on the agency’s file, I called my HR manager so they would hire you that very day.

I can’t believe this, I thought, not daring to say it aloud.

—Last night I was looking through your social media. I have to admit you kept me awake. With my cock hard while I looked at your photos, to be precise. I came twice thinking about that mouth of yours.

If any other guy had said all that to me, I would have kicked him and been dialing the police. But coming from him, it only felt like a dangerous compliment. And the worst part was realizing that my body had made up its own mind. I could feel the heat rising inside me, my clothes suddenly too tight, my breathing short. My pussy throbbed beneath my jeans, wet without having done anything, and my panties clung to my skin in a way I couldn’t ignore.

—I see I’m not the only one having trouble concentrating —he said, looking me up and down, stopping undisguisedly at my nipples outlined beneath my shirt.

—I’m sorry, but I can’t. I have a boyfriend. —It was a lie. I was single. But what kind of impression would I make if I slept with a client on my first day at work?

—All right. I respect that. —He stepped back—. But first I want to show you something.

***

He put his hands on his belt and yanked down his riding pants without any ceremony. He was hard and thick, a vein running along him pulsing slowly against the taut skin. It was an enormous cock, much bigger than any I had seen before, with a swollen tip gleaming with a drop of pre-cum threatening to fall. His heavy balls hung beneath it, shaved and tight. I kept looking at it longer than I should have allowed myself to, and he noticed.

—I hope your boyfriend’s is like this —he said, almost amused, gripping the base with one hand and slowly stroking it so the vein stood out even more.

I don’t know what came over me. I raised my hand to place it on his chest and stop him, but instead of pushing him away, I dropped to my knees on the straw. It was as if a force outside me had taken control, as if the sensible girl who had arrived that morning had stayed outside, in my father’s car.

I took him into my mouth all at once. He was so hard that at times I struggled to take him in, stretching my jaw and stealing my breath. The tip hit the roof of my mouth and went even deeper, hitting my throat and making my eyes water. I dug my hands into his hips and pulled him toward me, wanting him to reach the very back, thinking of nothing but that moment. I began sucking his cock hungrily, moving my head up and down, letting saliva escape from the corners of my mouth and run down over his balls.

—Fuck, you suck it so well —he growled, gripping my hair—. Take it all, slut, swallow every inch.

I obeyed without thinking. I opened my throat, breathed through my nose, and swallowed him to the base, feeling his balls strike my chin. I stayed like that for a few seconds, my nose crushed against his stomach, choking and unwilling to let go. When I finally pulled him out, a thick strand of saliva connected my lips to the tip. I took him back into my mouth, this time more slowly, sucking only the head and playing my tongue around it, feeling him shudder. I licked the entire vein from bottom to top, kissed his balls, took them into my mouth one by one while stroking his cock with my hand, never stopping looking him in the eyes.

—Look at you, tits out and my cock in your mouth. —He had unbuttoned my shirt without me realizing it, and he pinched one nipple between two fingers—. I knew you were my kind of girl.

—Do you want me to fuck you? —he asked afterward, his voice hoarse, one hand tangled in my hair, the other pulling my nipple until I gasped.

—Yes, please —I begged, barely a thread of sound, my lips swollen and my chin soaked—. Fuck me, please.

We were both at the limit, as if one more touch would make us explode. With a movement I hadn’t expected, he lifted me off the ground almost effortlessly and pressed me against the wooden wall of the stall. He ripped off my jeans in one tug, along with my soaked panties, and left them lying on the straw. He forced my legs apart with one swat and crouched between them before I had time to do anything.

—Look at you —he whispered, running two fingers over my pussy and holding them up, glistening—. Dripping for me.

He buried his face between my thighs and drove his tongue into my pussy. He slowly moved it up to my clitoris and began sucking it with such force that I bent over him, grabbed his hair, and bit my lip to keep from screaming. He pushed two thick fingers into me at once, driving them deep and curling them inside me while he kept eating me. He pulled them out and pushed them back in, coated in my juices, while his tongue danced over my clitoris. I came in his mouth in less than a minute, pressing his face against my pussy with both hands, trembling from head to toe.

—That’s the first one —he said, standing and wiping his chin with the back of his hand—. Let’s go for more.

The smell of hay and animal surrounded everything, now mixed with the heavy smell of sex. He lifted me again, held me by the ass, and pinned me against the wood. I felt the tip of his cock searching for my entrance, rubbing against my soaked lips, playing with them.

—Now listen carefully —he said, his mouth against my ear, never stopping rubbing his glans against my pussy—. I’m going to fuck you, we’re going to come, and when this is over, you’re going to call your agency and tell them you want to work here permanently. In return, you’ll have all the money you want. On one condition: that you take care of my horses and that you’re mine whenever I decide. When I want to fuck you, I fuck you. When I want to come in your mouth, you swallow it all. Understood?

Instead of bringing me back to my senses, his words turned me on even more. So that was it. Maybe that was why the position had opened up, maybe it was what had really happened to Núria. At that moment, I didn’t care.

—Okay —I said, surrendering—. But tell me your name, please. It’s the only thing I ask.

—You can call me sir. That’s what I’m going to be to you. And you’re going to be my girl.

—Okay… sir.

***

He kept every one of his promises. He thrust into me in one hard stroke, all the way to the back, without pausing, and he muffled the cry that escaped me with his hand over my mouth. He was so big that I felt split open, his cock hammering a spot I hadn’t known existed. He began fucking me against the wall with hard blows, my legs crossed behind his back and my nails digging into his shoulders. Every thrust tore a moan from me, which I tried to smother against his neck so no one outside the stall would hear. Everything could be heard: the wet smack of his cock going in and out, the sloshing of our bodies, the creaking of the wood every time he slammed me against it.

—Your pussy’s so tight —he panted, never stopping his thrusts—. It was made for my cock.

He lowered me to the floor, turned me around, and made me lean over a bale of hay with my ass raised. He spread my cheeks with his hands, spat on my pussy, and pushed into me from behind again, this time even deeper. Every thrust made me arch my back; he gripped my hips with both hands and rammed into me as if he wanted to split me in half. He slapped my ass, the sound echoing through the whole stall, then did it again and again, leaving my skin red and burning.

—Tell me you’re mine —he demanded, pulling my hair back.

—I’m yours, sir —I moaned, my cheek pressed against the hay—. All yours.

He changed my position again. He lay on his back on the straw and told me to climb on top. I did it trembling, gripping his cock with my hand so I could impale myself, sinking down slowly until I was sitting all the way on him. I placed my hands on his chest and began moving, up and down, feeling him fill me more and more. He grabbed my tits, pinched my nipples, and looked at me with that half smile I could no longer tell was one of desire or possession. I rode his cock the way the riders rode their horses outside, my thighs burning, my breathing broken, my vision clouded.

—That’s it, slut, that’s it. Ride me. Show me what you can do.

I didn’t recognize myself. The girl who had arrived that morning to tend horses had disappeared, replaced by someone who only wanted to obey, someone who only wanted more cock, more thrusts, more of him inside her. I leaned forward, braced my hands on his chest, and let him take control from below, ramming into me at a brutal pace, splashing my ass with his balls and making me bounce on him.

We came almost at the same time. He held me against his body and buried himself to the hilt, and I felt hot spurts filling me inside, one after another, while an orgasm swept through me from the nape of my neck to my heels and squeezed me tight around his cock. I screamed against his shoulder, biting him so I wouldn’t wake half the stable, trembling with spasms I couldn’t control. When he finally pulled out of me, a thick stream of his cum ran down my inner thigh, dripping onto the straw. It was so intense that the last thing I remember from that afternoon is the stall’s ceiling spinning above me before everything went black.

I woke up the next day in a hospital bed. My parents were on one side, pale and asking how I felt. On the other, sitting with a calm no one else understood, was him. He held my gaze for a second and, without my parents seeing, silently mouthed a single word: tomorrow.

I called the agency that same week. I told them I wanted to stay at the stables permanently. My parents thought it was because of the money. And, in part, I wasn’t lying to them.