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When we returned to the stables, Gabriel gently lowered me from Sapphire’s saddle. I felt sore and tired but gathered my resolve, proving I was up to any challenge. My discomfort worsened when I helped tidy the stables and put the horses to bed at the end of a long day.
I was exhausted from the fine fucking I had in the saddle, but that wasn’t all. My pussy lips felt sore because I ground them and my clitoris hard against the leather stimulation patch, possibly going at it a little too enthusiastically. After my first use of a fuck saddle, I well understood how much wear and tear those dimples received daily.
As I worked hard, glancing around the stables frequently, I noticed all the girls had zips in their riding breech crotches. The fuck saddles saw far more wear and tear than I had initially imagined. There was a scheduling system on a small whiteboard outside the riding master’s office, where girls booked their day and time, named a horse, and wrote their name beside it.
Late in the day, Gabriel did his rounds, checking on horses and grooms as they finished work and left for home. He made his way up to me, helping shift the last hay bales from a late delivery.
“You look exhausted, Olivia.”
“It’s been an enjoyable couple of days.”
“You mean tiring, right?”
“Yes, but my stay here has been great fun and very rewarding.”
“You’ve been here almost three days and completely transformed. I haven’t seen that happen so profoundly before.”
“This environment is what I needed.”
I swelled with pride at his casual praise. Gabriel’s view of me had become my life’s most important influencing factor. He was kind, firm when needed, and fearless in dishing out a thrashing one minute or a compliment the next.
He nodded towards his stable’s administrative hub.