Seven Tails: Tail 01

9-13-14

Reposted by request

Seven Tails

Tail One: More Than The Heavens

(Sarabeth)

*****

One

Three months. Three whole months. I was getting a little crazy from being alone, even if I didn't prefer the company of most other people. I was far from used to behaving myself for so long. It was time that I did something about this situation.

Three months ago I sold Randy and Amanda at the pony auction. It had been sort of a sad farewell, as they had been my pets, servants, ponies and bed partners for almost four years. They understood my reasoning and agreed to it. But it was still kind of sad to see them bought by a new Owner. I had words with him after the sale and it sounded like they were going to a good home. That did ease my heart a little bit.

Of course the fact that I sold them for close to twice what I had paid for them originally didn't hurt matters either. I'd taken them as a brand new recently indentured couple. Little more than slightly kinky swingers. They had only had a minimal bit of experience and I was their first full time Owner. When I put them back up on the auction block after four years in my household they were sold as a well trained domestic breeding pair. They were both now well-schooled in domestic service and how to entertain and please a Master or Mistress.

Even though he had paid twice what I had for them, their new Master and his wife were getting a bargain. They just didn't know it yet.

What Randy and Amanda didn't know was that I had taken the money I had gotten from their sale and set up a trust fund through one of my attorneys. If they stuck out the lifestyle for five more years the fund would have grown to three quarters of a million dollars. If they decided to retire after ten years it would be worth three times that. Enough to live on comfortably for a while if they were careful.

I was a sneaky bastard like that.

Don't tell anybody.

At any rate, I was in the market for a new pony or two. A good friend of mine had given me an introduction to the fetish pony world several years ago and I was now completely hooked. I flew or drove all over the country attending pony Gatherings and learning all that I could about training methods and the ins and outs of the trade. Two years ago I splurged and bought an immense recreational vehicle to travel in style here and there.

Being rather wealthy did have it's advantages, after all. And I was all about my own comfort.

Of course one of the afflictions of being wealthy was the greed that tended to accompany that condition. Since I could afford anything short of buying a small country, I was accustomed to getting what I wanted when I wanted and to hell with the consequences. Whatever I had my mind always craved more. Even though I was often content with my condition, the spoiled rich kid that dwelt in my subconscious always had it's greedy claws out grasping for more. I had to fight that sort of indolence in all of it's definitions daily.

But enough psychoanalysis.

What I wanted was champion exhibition ponies. At least two, maybe more. I'd been watching and studying the events at the Gatherings and there were four events that really caught my interest:

The Dressage: Three minutes of freestyle dance and compulsory skills preformed in full pony regalia in the arena. I had seen some absolutely riveting performances in this event. Even mediocre performers got me aroused and the best of them nearly made me weep.

The single and tandem sulky races: One or two ponies pulling their Owner or trainer in a small lightweight cart around the track, trying to outrun the other teams. Those ponies were always lithe and quick and I just loved watching their faces as they raced. I rarely even noticed who was riding behind in the cart.

The Steeplechase: One or more laps around a track jumping over obstacles. None of them as high as hurdles, just high enough that the ponies were compelled to leap over them at top speed and still maintain their footing as they raced each other. It looked to me as if that might be a bit hard on the knees and back, but it was an entertaining event.

The Chariot race: Much like the tandem sulky race but more intense. Two ponies pulled a mock chariot around the track against their opponents. The Owner or trainer in the chariot, rather than being just a weight to pull against in a sulky, actually had to help steer and guide his team around the track. It looked fun and challenging as hell.

I set my mind on having at least two ponies with an eye towards many more. Perhaps even starting my own training academy if I could get my methods down pat. With that goal in my mind, I had started remodeling the barn into a stable to keep my ponies in.

Sure, I could have kept them in the house. After all, I had plenty of room. But that sounded too soft. I wanted them to always be reminded of who they were and what they were meant for. Aside from keeping my bed warm on occasion, that is.

The competition. I wanted champions. Not just for my own aggrandizement, but to also prove a point to those old money blue blood Owners that assumed they had the best because they had the finest training facilities and all of the newest equipment. Most of them had looked down on me because I was new to the scene and scoffed when I mentioned my intention to enter into the events once I had trained a pony or two.

"Really, young man." Chuckled one. "Are you serious? That sort of thing takes years of training and practice. All sorts of hideously expensive equipment and the like. Go ahead and try, but I'm sure you will find it is more than you can afford. In both time and... assets."

He had no idea that my accumulated wealth was probably three times what his was. I didn't wear silk suits and have a chauffeured Bentley and wear my bank balance like a boutonniere on my lapel as so many of them did. Sure, I came from family money. To start with, anyway. I'd worked and invested until I didn't need to rely on the family coffers anymore. In my mind, my money was a tool to get what I wanted, not who I was or a reflection of my status.

My accomplishments, or those of my ponies, were going to be the deciding factor in my position in the fetish pony world. Not the size of the checkbook I had swinging between my legs.

They'd managed to piss me off, if you can't tell.

Another thing that I had decided was that I wasn't going to be content getting ponies from the auctions. There was rarely any of champion caliber put up for sale. Those were usually snapped up by the rich insiders before they ever made it to the auction block. I hadn't managed to make it anywhere near that inner circle yet. So if I was going to find a pony, it was going to have to be from outside.

But just how was I going to do that? Find a champion fetish pony out on the streets? Quite a conundrum. But I did love a challenge so I sat awhile and pondered.

I believe the word I was looking for was "Serendipity." While I was sitting around trolling the internet at BDSM websites one of my email accounts chimed announcing I had new mail. It was the Alex Winters account that I used when I was writing fiction and looking for hard to find items. Over the years I had developed a good list of contacts with people on the lookout for things that I might find interesting.

One of those contacts was a middle-level government employee in a certain agency that I won't name here. Early in his career he'd been an up and coming rising star in the agency and had thoroughly immersed himself in all the pay and perks that had accompanied his ascension through the ranks. But as these things often go, he'd managed to piss off someone who ended up being senior to him and his rapid rise had turned into a quick fall and he found himself more or less permanently marooned in the lower middle levels of the agency.

As such greedy and avaricious people often get, he'd grown accustomed to the opulent lifestyle and his new found status and equivalent pay left him completely unsatisfied. So he'd turned to alternative sources of income. Brokering things not readily available to the general public. So far he'd never stepped close enough to the line to be accused of espionage (as far as I knew), but he was definitely selling information and bits of tech that his agency would find severely uncomfortable.

At any rate, his latest email had a list of the things he was offering to myself and what ever other clients he might have at the time. Quite a lengthy roster this time. He must be desperate for money. Most of the things were nothing I would have a use for, unfortunately.

But there was one item about three quarters of the way down that caught my eye. A new combination drug invented by one of the agency's science labs for use on enemy agents and certain foreign nationals. It would render the subject unconscious in under three seconds, last about six to eight hours and allow them to awaken with little or no side effects.

Except for the inclusion of the second drug, that is. I smiled. It was a time release aphrodisiac that lasted for about three days. My smile got even wider.

I transferred the money to his account without another thought.

Two

Three more months had passed. I'd given the new drug combination that I had acquired a thorough testing and it had passed with flying colors. I'd woken up with only a slight headache and a bit of fuzziness and a raging hardon that had lasted for a solid three days.

Ouch. I was pretty sure I never wanted to try that on myself again. I was also pretty sure that I had very nearly rubbed all of the skin off of my cock in those following three days.

When it finally wore off it was the first time in my life I could ever remember being happy about not being horny. Yikes. I slept for a couple of days straight and it was several more days before I could get a hard on without a sharp stinging in my poor abraded skin.

But the thought of using that on someone else made me smile. It would be a perfect tool to capture a new pony and train them right.

It must have been serendipity again. Or the God that watches over fools. Whatever it was that had me driving down that stretch of road at the exact moment. In my old beat up pickup truck in my comfortable clothes. Not in a hurry to get anywhere in particular. Sure, I was on my way to Salem to hit a book store that catered to certain... esoteric tastes in literature, but it wasn't like they were expecting me and it wasn't like they would never open again. And if I really wanted to, I could just have ordered the books online as I usually did.

But I was bored in the house and I wanted to get out and drive. I was in the middle of remodeling the stables and I had three of the six cages almost complete. Each time I stepped in there my heart ached for the time when I would have even one pony housed there, let alone six. The closer I got to completion the more I wanted to move forward.

Whatever the combination of circumstances, gods or fate that had me driving down that road at that time, I owe them my life. I was several miles out of Prineville and hadn't seen another vehicle on the road in quite some time. That suited me just fine. Being able to make my own schedule and being free to go where I wanted when I wanted made it that I could be traveling during the week when most everyone else was at work. I didn't really like most people as a rule. And almost everybody else in the world was a dangerous jackass behind the wheel of a car. I avoided them whenever I could.

It took me a moment to realize what it was I was seeing. At first it was just a distant speck of movement coming slowly closer and sometimes disappearing as I drove up and down the slow hills.

The first conscious thought that popped into my head was "Legs."

After that it was "Mmmm... nice..."

As my foot was stepping down on the brake trying not to appear too eager my mind was thinking "Holy mother of god, that girl is gorgeous." She'd turned as I approached and looked at me with the most beautiful cornsilk blue eyes that I had ever seen in my life and smiled like she was genuinely glad to see me. And as she turned even more of that wonderful body came into view.

The girl was small, just the way I like them. About 5'4" or so. She had firm legs poking out from almost obscenely short cut-off shorts that very nearly showed me the bottom of each ass cheek. The rest of her body was obscured by a cheap nylon frame pack slung over her shoulders and a large baggy flannel shirt which had seen better days. She wore scuffed and worn hiking boots and thick socks. Dangling down one side of the backpack I could see a long blond braid hanging down almost to the small of her back if it had been straight.

When she turned as I pulled over I could see a firm compact body and was acutely aware that she was not wearing a bra under her tight t-shirt. I immediately hardened and was glad I was wearing fairly loose jeans. That would have gotten quickly uncomfortable. And when she smiled at me I felt my both my blood pressure and my temperature rise several degrees.

"Would you like a ride, or are you happy just walking?" I tried to sound cool and unconcerned, but my heart was racing around in my chest like a wild thing trying to claw it's way out. And I was painfully aware what I had just said sounded really stupid. Good grief.

Ten seconds and I sounded like a teenager on his first date. Wow. Nice going, Max.

"Oh no, Sir! I'd love a ride. I've been walking like forever! Thank you, Sir!"

Each time the word "Sir" left her lips it was like a small lightning strike in my brain. I could even swear she capitalized it when she said it.

My brain sort of locked up for a few seconds. Luckily for me, she spent those few seconds taking off her pack and sliding it into the back of the truck. I came to just in time to hit the button to unlock the door as she opened it and slid into the passenger seat. She shot me another sunny grateful smile as she closed the door and even remembered to buckle her seat belt around her waist.

The girl must have been raised right.

"Thank you so much, Sir! I really do appreciate it..."

I swear to god if she calls me "Sir" one more time my pants are going to rip right open at the fly..

Nonchalantly I wave my hand and put the truck back into gear. "Don't worry about it, miss. It's my pleasure. You are the prettiest thing I have seen on this road in decades." She blushes and laughs softly. It's a nice blush. And it makes it just a little warmer in the cab of the truck. "So.. where are you headed?" She blushes just a little once more.

"You'll... probably think I'm an idiot if I tell you..."

"I'd never do any such thing. I promise. Even if you told me you were going to the moon I'd think you were serious about it." She sat and looked at me funny for just a moment.

Then she said "That is probably the most straightforward compliment I have ever heard in my life. Thank you... Sir." My heart skipped a beat again. She was silent for a minute or two. I was good with that. We just watched the road as I drove. Or I did, anyway. I could see out of the corner of my eye that she was looking about a thousand miles down the road. Or trying to look inside her own brain. Either way, the girl wasn't there in the truck with me for that moment.

Finally she nodded just a little and said "I'm going to California. Los Angeles, to be specific."

"Gonna be in pictures?"

"You're laughing at me."

"Nope." I shook my head. "I never would do it, miss. I'd never laugh at you."

There was another moment of silence. Then she muttered "You are the oddest man..." After a brief pause she continued.

"You might think I'm foolish, but I want to act. I've never... done much of that, but... something inside me really wants to perform for people. I think it would just make me glow from the inside knowing that I could make people happy like that. Although..." Another slight pause... "The thought of being up on a stage in front of people makes me really nervous. I'd need a lot of training first, I know. But..." She looked at me across the seat.

The word "Training" echoed back and forth in my brain, seemingly for hours before I realized I was still in the truck and driving and she was talking to me.

"You think I'm silly, don't you..." I shook my head again.

"Not one bit miss... um..."

"Sarabeth... Sarah... Sarah... Andrews." I grinned and shook my head a third time.

"Got a stage name already, huh? You need to practice it more." That got a little laugh to pop from her lips.

"Abernathy. Sarabeth Quinn Abernathy." She stopped suddenly and said "I haven't told anybody my full name in ages. How did you do that?" The she continued. "From Martensdale, Iowa." This time she shook her head with a little chuckle. "Isn't that just the most nowhere place you have ever heard of?"

"Smaller than Powell Butte, Oregon?" I waved a hand out the window. "Home of the Boring Lava Fields?"

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Would I kid you?" She looked at me.

"You probably would." Her stomach made a little growling noise.

"When was the last time you ate anything?" Her face reddened and she waved her hands.

"Don't worry about me, Sir. I'm..." Before the word "fine" could leave her mouth her stomach rumbled again. Loud and long. A deep flush spread over her cheeks.

That settled that.

We stopped in the real town of Powell Butte, just over the hill from the Boring Lava Fields, and had an early lunch at a little cafe I stopped at now and then. I had some kind of sandwich and she ordered the chicken and dumplings at my recommendation. Just the mention of that made her face light up. It was, much to my everlasting surprise, her very favorite meal. In truth I was so captivated by this girl the waitress could have served me an old shoe or some wet cardboard between two slices of bread and I wouldn't have noticed. Under the thin guise of chivalry I had allowed her to walk ahead of me and what I saw made my heart race even faster. She was athletic without being too pumped up to look soft and beautiful at the same time. Her legs were nicely muscled and she had a grace to her movements that almost made me drool. She looked and moved like the kind of girl who would get up and run three or four miles every morning, just to clear her head.

If this girl wasn't a perfect pony I'd eat my hat. Whole. Raw. With onions. And I hate onions.

She was drop-dead gorgeous in my eyes. Not Playmate of the Year material, but those girls weren't real, anyway. They were all makeup and silicone and botox with a dash of photoshop thrown in for good measure. Sarabeth was real and sweet and small, just the way I loved my girls. And the fact that she called me "Sir" at the end of almost every single sentence was driving me wild. There was a burning need in my heart to have her say it and really mean it.

My mind and my thoughts became crystal clear in a flash. Sarabeth Abernathy was going to become my first champion pony. Hopefully the first of many. But she was going to be my first. And the greatest achievement of my life.

There was a small argument about the check when we had finished eating. She drew a small handful of rumpled bills out of one pocket and I waved her away and paid it myself. I eyed the small wad of cash and figured she maybe had thirty dollars there. Nowhere near enough to make it all the way to L.A. If things were going to turn out differently, I would have found a way to slip a couple of hundred bucks into her backpack before she got out of my truck.

How is it that I could be such an incredibly nice guy and such an evil bastard in the same breath? I shrugged. It was a mystery.

My hands shook with excitement just a bit as we both climbed back into the truck and started down the road again. Sarabeth was smiling and content sitting in the passenger seat with her belly full. She had thanked me several times for her lunch and had called me "Sir" each time. I had noticed that she had this way of lowering her eyes when she called me that name. So very submissive the girl was, whether she realized it or not. I was pretty sure, from the reactions or lack of them to my subtle little dropped hints during our conversation, that she had no idea that the BDSM world even existed.