“Then I will vanquish it in a blaze of fury.”He rolled onto his side and placed a gentle kiss on my lips.“I’ll protect you, Oliver.Always.”
*
ON FRIDAY, ADAMand Kamal set up a projector that I could connect to my laptop in order to show everyone a selection of the best images.Since the weather forecast was clear the communal supper was postponed until eight, so we could watch the slideshow of the photos when the sun started to go down around nine o’clock.
I was excited.I was pleased with the photos, and I hoped they impressed everyone, particularly Adam, Kamal, and one ponyboy in particular.The ponyboy who kept shooting me shy glances and winks when nobody else was looking.
Puck had hung out with Lincoln and Alex during the meal, keeping his distance from me.I didn’t mind.I knew that even though we weren’t fooling Adam or Kamal, and likely the other ponyboys realized there was something going on, Puck got a kick out of the fact that we were fucking behind everybody’s backs.I kind of liked that, too, although it was starting to feel a bit ridiculous to deny what was so obvious.But if it made Puck happy, I’d keep up the ruse.
Once darkness fell and the meal had been cleared away, I connected my laptop to the projector, and Kamal clapped his hands together.
“All right, all right.Settle down, you hooligans.It’s time for a presentation.”
“Yes, SIR!”Someone called out.I was surprised it wasn’t Puck.
There was general laughter.But everyone did settle down, and Adam took over from Kamal.
“As you know, Oliver has been at our kinky ranch on an important assignment.And that assignment is to capture what he can of our day-to-day activities, in as artistic a way as possible, so we can post these photos to our website and social feeds in order to let people know what to expect and what the Braided Crop Ranch is all about.”
Everyone applauded and a couple of people whistled.
“Tonight, we have a selection of the most…delicious…images that I think I’ve ever seen.Oliver has taken this assignment and run with it, producing a plethora of incredible photos starring”—he gestured at the crowd of ponyboys and trainers—“all of you.”
Again, applause and laughter filled the night air.
“But nobody will know it’s you as we have been extremely careful not to reveal any identifying features in these photos.This also leads to a wonderful sense of universality and timelessness in the images, which adds to their appeal.But enough talk.Let’s get started.”
Adam nodded to me and I projected the first image onto the wall of the main house.
Gasps sounded, along with muttered curses.
I’d chosen this particular photo because it captured the sense of restraint and submission required in the arena, when a ponyboy was ready for his training session and waiting to be taken in hand.
The ponyboy in the photo was Lincoln, but that didn’t signify at all.The shot of his arms pinioned by the leather armbands, the back of his head as it bowed, with the metal buckle of the ball gag light against his dark hair, and a glimpse of the scuffed toes of his Docs over his shoulder, gave the viewer the impression of a supplicant awaiting orders.It was an affecting shot with the background out of focus and the black leather accoutrements of the regular tack sharply defined.
I took a breath and clicked through to the next one.
It was a close-up of a cock in the steel cage.I was the only person who knew it belonged to Puck.The photo was incredible, with the shine of the steel echoed in the sparkles of pre-ejaculate that dripped from the bulging red tip.A glistening pearl of fluid was stretched toward the bottom of the shot but remained connected to the glans by a spider’s silky thread.
Someone groaned.Someone else said, “That is so fucking hot.”
I clicked through to the next shot, which was the image of Kamal’s hand in mid-act of pumping a ponyboy’s cock in reward.Everyone here could tell it was Kamal’s forearm and hand by the dark hair that grew in delicate whorls there, but people who weren’t frequent clients of the BCR wouldn’t know.
I heard Kamal’s soft laughter and his muttered, “Jesus,” as the ponyboys cursed again.
“I’m gonna need Kamal’s assistance after this slideshow,” Joshua said.
Kamal turned.“I don’t give out freebies.You have to work for that.”
I risked a glance at Puck.He seemed riveted to the photo, his back straight and hands curled at his sides.But he side-eyed me and quirked his lip in acknowledgement, nodding briefly.
Image after image clicked by, detailing the life of the ponyboys at the Braided Crop Ranch in vivid colour—in the grooming barn and arena and out in the fresh air of the paddock.
I’d included the shot of Puck pissing into the grass that I’d taken that first morning, and when it went up I heard him gasp.The photo had been taken from the side and only the folded material of his jeans could be seen, outlined by the golden rays from the early morning sun.An ethereal cloud of vapour collected in front of him, looking like something out of a fairy story and not the result of Puck’s warm piss hitting the cold grass.
“Jesus, Oliver,” he said.I glanced over, worried I’d upset him by sharing this private moment.
But his gaze met mine with awe and subdued appreciation.He stood and walked to me.My finger froze on the laptop key as Puck gracefully lowered himself into my lap, surrounded me with his arms, and nuzzled into my neck.
A comforting warmth spread from Puck’s languid body sharing its heat with me, and also from his public show of affection and the soft clapping of the watching crowd.
Laughter and muttered sentiments such as, “Finally” and “I told you so” wrapped us with acceptance and kindness.
I took my hand off the keyboard and folded my arms around him, kissing his cheek and whispering words of gratitude into his ear for claiming me in front of everyone.I didn’t know what the future held for us beyond our time at the Braided Crop Ranch.But I was determined to find out if this powerful thing between us was as significant as it felt.
Because I knew by that point in my life that a connection this strong, this intense, and this unrelenting was something to hold onto with both hands and a whole, fiercely beating heart.
