He’dwantedto be an engineer. But engineering classes were hard and the programs were difficult to get into. He wasn’t an engineer because he’d been afraid to try to be one. And since he wasn’t one, he was afraid to propose his ideas at work.
“I’m afraid?” It sounded an awful lot like the truth. “How do I get unafraid?”
“That’s what we’re here for. Over the next two weeks, you’re going to try a lot of new things, and you’ll most likely fail at some of them. But the more you try, the better you’ll get, and the truth I’d like you to see, Peyton, is that it’s the work itself that’s important, not the result. Just give me your honest effort.”
“But what if you want me to do something I can’t do?”
“I’m only going to give you tasks I think you can complete, and I’ll be right there guiding you through them, but if you can’t, you can’t. There will only be trouble between us if I find you quitting.”
“I don’t want to quit.” He said it in a whisper because it felt so huge. He didn’t want to quit. And yet, he always did. “You can help me?”
“By the end of our time together, you’re going to be as fine a specimen of manhood as one could wish to meet. Now get your ass in that barn, and let’s get moving.” Tex released the hold on the back of his neck and he oozed slowly in the direction of the barn until Tex dropped a swat on the seat of his pants to hurry him along.
“Ow.” He rubbed his ass cheek with one hand as he trotted forward with a little more alacrity.
“Like I said, if you make an effort, the two of us will be fine. But if I catch you slacking, there’ll be consequences.”
Punishment. He’d been expecting it, thanks to the warnings from both Bettina and Greg. But if mucking out stalls was work, then what would the punishments be? He didn’t ask, figuring his best bet was to avoid them. He would be a dutiful worker. Nothing he couldn’t handle, Tex had said. All he had to do was try.
But ugh. Mucking out stalls was both as smelly and as sweaty as he’d expected it to be. Stalls, it turned out, were the places horses slept. And horses, it further turned out, didn’t understand about not shitting where you sleep, requiring humans to step in and remove the piss-covered, feces-strewn straw and replace it with clean straw.
The clean straw was relatively light and smelled way better than the dirty straw, though it tickled his nose. Nevertheless, the first stall pretty much did him in. His back and shoulders ached from the strain of repetitive motion, and he felt as filthy as the used straw. But when he threw himself down on a bale of hay in resigned exhaustion, Tex crossed his arms, raised his eyebrows, and generally made him feel like a loser. So he stood up again.
The second stall went faster than the first. Tex had been right—both about him being capable of doing it and him getting better at it. But two stalls was his limit. The point had been proven. Mucking out more stalls would just be work. Boring, smelly drudge work.
“I’m done.” He dropped back onto the hay bale, which was conveniently bed height and had a sweet smell he would forever associate with spreading hay over a plank wood floor.
“You’ve still got three stalls to go.”
“Three?” He could maybe be talked into doingone, just to see Tex’s dimples, but three? Not a chance. “My back hurts. My arms hurt. My everything hurts.”
“Not your everything,” Tex said. A little ominously, if Peyton was being honest.
“Everything that counts, unless you want to make my ass hurt.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. This hay bale was not only the perfect height for sleeping on. It was the perfect height for bending over.
“That’s exactly what I’m fixing to do if you don’t get on with those other three stalls.”
Well, count him lucky. If his choice was between mucking stalls and having Tex’s cock in his ass, there wasn’t even a contest. Could sex really be what The Bars and Stars doled out for punishment? They understood about their clientele being gay, right?
“Let me make that easier on you, cowboy.” His joints cracked and his muscles screamed as he clambered to his feet, but the pain of getting vertical again would be worth it. “I hope you’ve got everything we need to keep this safe,” he said as he presented Tex with his backside and reached for his fly.
“This ain’t my first rodeo.”
“Good to hear I’m in capable hands.” He dropped his drawers and leaned over to brace himself on the hay bale, pressing his ass back invitingly. His ass could probably use a shower after all that mucking, but the funk was Tex’s fault, so Tex could deal with it. “Lay it on me, babe.”
He wiggled his rump, eager to feel Tex’s hand on it. And then he did.
Chapter 4
“Ouch!” Peyton looked over his shoulder at Tex who was standing behind him with his hand drawn back to smack his ass again. “Whoa there, cowboy. I don’t mind a little slap and tickle once we get going, but you gotta warm a girl up first.”
Tex smacked him again.
“I said ouch.” He yanked up his trousers as he whirled. He’d had a good stiffy from thinking about what Tex was going to do to him, but it was wilting now. “What the f—?”
He didn’t even get to finish his question before Tex spun him around, planted a hand in the center of his back to bend him over, and landed another wallop.
“This isn’t funny,” Peyton protested, unable to rise because Tex had him so firmly pinned.
