The old manual chain block hung beneath the lifting beam, its hand chain pooled on the polished concrete below.
Beside it waited the cross-frame, spreader bar and leather harness Bryce had built months earlier.
Elara stood beneath the beam while he worked from the platform ladder, one arm hooked around the timber as he removed the last bolt from the chain-block trolley. The socket cracked sharply against the steel. Dust drifted from above, turning gold in the light.
“Clear.”
She stepped back.
Bryce lowered the old block with a rope rather than letting its weight swing free. It settled onto the floor with a heavy clunk, the loose hand chain collapsing around it.
Elara nudged it with her boot.
“It did the job.”
“Slowly.”
“You never complained when it was holding me.”
“I complained every time I had to stop touching you to pull that chain.”
Elara smiled. “Fair.”
The new hoist waited on the workbench.
She picked up the pendant and looked at the buttons.
“Slow and fast.”
“That’s all it needs.”
“No middle?”
“You’ll survive.”
She looked toward the equipment waiting beside them.
“That remains to be seen.”
Bryce climbed again.
The trolley and beam stayed. The new hoist went where the chain block had been, Bryce lifting it into position while Elara steadied the ladder below.
He tightened the final fastener, checked it, then checked it again.
She felt the ladder shift under his boots.
“You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“Pretending the bolt changed while you weren’t looking.”
Bryce gave it one more pull.
“It didn’t.”
“Good.”
He climbed down and switched on the supply.
The motor answered with a low hum.
Bryce pressed one button. The hook rose smoothly beneath the beam.
He stopped it, then brought it down again more slowly.
Elara watched.
“That’s better.”
Bryce pulled hard on the chain.
Nothing moved.
He tested it once more, then looked toward the cross-frame.
Elara was already reaching for the harness.
Bryce took it from her.
“Shirt off.”
She looked at him.
“That part of the installation procedure?”
“No.”
Elara unbuttoned her work shirt anyway.
She let it fall over the back of a nearby bench, then stood while Bryce wrapped the harness around her. His hands moved with remembered certainty, settling the leather beneath her breasts, around her waist and under her hips.
He tightened one strap.
She shifted.
“Too much?”
“No.”
Another settled against her thigh.
Bryce ran his fingers along the edge, checking nothing had folded beneath it.
Elara watched his face.
He connected the harness to the cross-frame.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
Bryce took up the slack slowly. Leather tightened around her body. The cross-frame steadied above her, then her heels left the polished concrete.
He stopped with her only a few centimetres clear.
Elara shifted her weight.
The harness moved with her and settled again.
Bryce placed both hands on her hips and pushed gently from side to side.
“Better,” she said.
He raised her another half metre.
This time he stayed in front of her, one hand on the pendant and the other resting against her waist.
Elara looked down at him.
“That’s what you wanted.”
“Yes.”
“You can keep your hands on me.”
“Yes.”
She wrapped one leg around him as far as the harness allowed.
Bryce lowered her slightly.
Not much.
Just enough to bring her against him.
Elara felt the change immediately.
She smiled.
Bryce shifted the trolley a short distance along the beam.
Elara drifted with it.
“Stage?”
“Later.”
“Stockade?”
“Later.”
She looked around the barn, then back at him.
“Here, then.”
Bryce stopped the trolley.
His fingers found the fastening of her jeans.
The harness complicated removing them, but not enough to stop him. He worked the denim down over her hips while she lifted and twisted within the leather. One leg came free. The other remained caught until she kicked the jeans away across the concrete.
Bryce’s hand returned to her thigh.
Elara opened around him as much as the harness allowed.
The cross-frame held her weight. The pendant remained in Bryce’s hand.
He touched her slowly.
She was already wet.
“That quick?”
“You’ve had me hanging here while you played with buttons.”
Bryce slipped two fingers inside her.
Elara’s breath broke.
She tried to press herself closer, but the leather held her where he had put her.
Bryce touched the slow control.
A few centimetres.
Elara gasped.
He stopped and watched her.
“Again.”
He lowered her another fraction.
The next movement of his hand went deeper.
Elara gripped the straps beside her shoulders. Her feet hung clear of the floor, Bryce close enough that she could feel the heat from him whenever he leaned in.
He added another finger.
Her head tipped back.
Bryce changed the pressure when her breathing changed. When her hips tried to roll, he altered her height slightly and watched what it did to her.
Elara looked down and found him watching her face, pendant loose in one hand, the other buried inside her.
Her body clenched.
Bryce held the pressure.
The orgasm hit hard enough to pull a cry from her. Fluid ran over his wrist and scattered across the polished concrete below.
Bryce kept going until her thighs shook against the harness and her grip tightened around the straps.
Then he withdrew.
Elara hung above the mess they had made, breathing hard.
Bryce glanced down.
“Drains work.”
“Eventually.”
He lowered her until the balls of her feet brushed the floor.
She could have stood.
He did not release the harness.
Elara reached for his belt.
Bryce caught her wrist.
“Not there.”
She looked at him.
He pressed the fast button.
The sudden lift made her stomach drop before the hoist stopped well short of the beam.
Elara laughed, startled and breathless.
Bryce guided the trolley farther down the aisle, walking beside her.
“Show-off.”
“You wanted fast.”
“I asked if it had a middle.”
He lowered her slowly until her hips aligned with his.
Elara opened his jeans.
Bryce stepped between her legs and entered her in one controlled thrust.
The harness shifted under the force but did not swing away. Bryce caught her hips.
Elara gripped his shoulders.
His first movement pushed her back slightly.
Bryce touched the control and lowered her a fraction.
Her own weight brought her back onto him.
Both of them stopped.
Elara’s eyes opened wider.
Bryce adjusted her once more, then let the pendant hang loose in his hand.
He moved into her without interruption.
His hands stayed on her, controlling the small movement of the harness and drawing her back each time it tried to carry her away.
Elara wrapped her legs around him.
Bryce increased his pace.
The barn threw every sound back at them: the faint hum above, leather tightening, his boots against polished concrete and Elara’s breathing as the harness held her around him.
She tried to lower herself onto him.
The straps stopped her.
Bryce felt the attempt.
He reached for the pendant and pressed slow down for barely a second.
Elara cried out as her weight settled more firmly onto him.
“There?”
She nodded.
He kept moving.
Elara’s hands shifted from his shoulders to the straps above her. Her body tightened.
Bryce watched the change and held her steady.
She came around him with her legs locked against his sides, the harness carrying her when the strength left them. Bryce continued until her contractions pulled him over the edge with her.
For several moments he remained inside her, Elara suspended against him while the equipment held them exactly where Bryce had left it.
Eventually he lowered her.
Her feet met the floor, then her weight returned fully to her legs.
Bryce kept one arm around her while he disconnected the cross-frame and loosened the harness.
Elara leaned against him as the leather came away.
The old manual block sat near the workbench, its hand chain coiled around it.
She looked from it to the new hoist overhead.
“You were right.”
Bryce hung the pendant beside the controller.
“About?”
“The old one interrupted everything.”
He glanced at her.
“You doubted me?”
“I doubted that it mattered this much.”
Bryce gathered the harness and placed it beside the spreader bar.
Elara retrieved her jeans from the floor and stepped into them.
“Tomorrow?”
Bryce looked at her.
“What about tomorrow?”
She nodded toward the spreader bar.
“This was the harness test.”
A smile moved at the corner of his mouth.
“No.”
“No?”
“This was the hoist test.”
Elara pulled up her jeans.
“Then tomorrow we test everything else.”
Bryce switched off the supply.
The barn fell quiet.
Above them, the electric hoist hung beneath the old beam.
Elara looked up at it.
“Tomorrow.”
Bryce picked up the old chain block.
“We’ll see.”