Page 11 of Tell No One
As they left the room, Tag watched the way Nasir and Juma walked and copied them. Left side legs forward together, then right. The feel of the tail brushing against his arse and his thighs was weird and he didn’t like it. It felt as if someone was touching him up. The butt plug was a mix of pleasure and discomfort. He didn’t want it left in for too long. If he’d been on his own dressed up like this in front of a crowd of people, he’d have felt very different, but being one of ten made it easier. He was a little worried that he wanted to do this right.What the fuck is up with me?Maybe he’d got caught up into the whole fantasy. Or maybe he was imagining getting paid tomorrow.
It might be nice to be stroked and treated well, even if the person doing it was pretending Tag was a horse. The idea of being looked after appealed. If the man who bought him was kind, then maybe—a big maybe—Tag might just accept this. He’d been on his own for so long, and even when he’d not been on his own, no one had cared about him. After…ithad happened, Tag had built a defensive wall around himself, fronted by his cheeky confident smile that was anything but. No one was going to break through that. Not today. Not ever.
They were led into a large room with an elaborately painted ceiling of cherubs and angels. Though when Tag stared up at it, Joshua yanked his head down. Large paintings of land and sea battles hung on the walls. Tag let his gaze wander over the masked audience that stood holding drinks. All were male and a mixture of races and ages. He had no idea what the one who was going to bid for him looked like. Tag just hoped thathewas recognisable under all the leather straps.
The ten of them were led onto a stage and positioned in a line behind a long wooden pole that ran across at waist height. Kareem was there with a crop and Tag just knew he was going to use it on him.
“Up!” The Master snapped his crop and when Juma and Nasir draped their arms over the pole, Tag and the others did the same. Except doing that made the butt plug push against his prostate. He sucked in air past the gag just as Kareem smacked the crop on his arse. The strike was hard enough to bring tears to Tag’s eyes.
It took a moment before he could tune in to what the Master was saying. Then he tuned out again. Some bullshit about their pedigrees and experience. Tag could look out properly at the audience now of maybe thirty guys. Most were in casual clothes. Some wore suits. As well as holding drinks, they also held paddles with numbers.
What if the wrong guy buys me? What if the one who’s supposed to buy me hasn’t come? What if something happens that I don’t like and I’m trapped in this stuff? What if… Oh fuck.
Pony One was led round to the front of where Tag and the other ponies stood. His bit was taken out, his teeth examined, his tail lifted, his cock and balls talked about—bloody hell, his backside rubbed, his muscles stroked. The bids were staggering. No wonder they could afford to pay a thousand to each of them.
Juma was number five—described by the Master as “an experienced thoroughbred” and “a delightful ride” and he went for forty-one thousand pounds. Tag was shocked. It was hard to swallow with this bit in his mouth. Swallowing was his comfort reflex and it was lost to him.
Billy went for thirty thousand. The Master had made a lot of his natural mane and it being something to hang onto. Billy was led back to the pole, and then it was Tag’s turn. He dropped his arms so his front hooves were on the ground and walked round to the front where his bit was taken out. He was swallowing compulsively now.
“This one is spirited,” the Master said and smacked Tag hard on the backside with the crop. Twice.
Fuck that! I’ve done nothing!Tag swivelled round and tried to bite his hand. That earned him another strike. The Master caught hold of the harness on his cheek and yanked Tag in close. “You know what I have in my pocket,” he whispered.
“Fuck you,” Tag said.
He jerked free and raised his front legs in the air as if he was going to bring them down on the Master, who stepped back as Tag slammed them onto the stage, but Tag caught the look of encouragement in his eyes, the mouthing of ‘Good pony’. He pawed at the floor and shook his head from side to side. They wanted a bloody pony, did they? Well, they could have a fucking stallion.
The bidding started at twenty-five thousand and the Master put the bit back in his mouth. Tag glared at the audience, not that they could tell. Then he spotted a face glaring back at him. Even with the mask, Tag could see the stranger’s irritation. Was this white-haired man the one who was going to buy him? If so, what had Tag done to piss him off? As the bidding went up to thirty-five thousand, Tag realised exactly what he’d done. The Master might be happy with him, but the other side were going to kill him. He wasn’t exactly blending in and maybe they wouldn’t get their money back.
But the guy who’d glared hadn’t yet bid, so maybe Tag was wrong and it was that older one with dark hair who’d been bidding for him from the start who was supposed to buy him. But then the grumpy guy raised his paddle and several bids later, he’d won. Forty-five thousand pounds.Fucking hell. I should have asked for a percentage.
Tag and the others were led out of the room by their reins and taken downstairs—negotiating those was tricky—then outside to a ringed enclosure where they were walked in circles. It wasn’t very warm and Tag shivered. His hands and feet were hurting, so was his back, and his arse where he’d been hit, and the harness was cutting into his chest.
“’ow ’at?” Tag mumbled at Joshua’s ear.
“Shut up. You’re not allowed to speak,” Joshua snapped.
It was impossible to make himself understood with the bit in his mouth. He’d tried to move it with his tongue but it was too firmly in place. How would anyone hearno? Panic surged and Tag’s breathing turned ragged.Don’t panic now. Calm down.
Those who’d been at the auction arrived holding glasses of champagne.
“Walk on,” Joshua barked and flicked his and Billy’s reins.
The Master strode over to Tag, took his reins from Joshua and smiled. “Good pony.” He bent his head to Tag’s ear. “Like to make a run for it?”
Was he serious? How far could he get in this gear? Tag snorted.
“I’ll get you an extra five hundred.”
Tag shook his head. It wasn’t worth the broken ankle or the beating he’d undoubtedly get when he was caught.
The Master laughed. “Next time you’ll fetch even more.”
Next time?There wouldn’t be a fucking next time.
“Would the owners like to come into the enclosure?” the Master called. “Feel free to take out your pony’s bit. You can stroke him, pet him, fellate him if you wish. The races will start in ten minutes. Miguel will take your bets.”
Tag’sownerwas the last to come into the circle. He sauntered over to Tag and took Tag’s reins.
