Seven Tails: Tail 02

3-20-12

Reposted by request

Seven Tails

Tail Two: Manhunter

(Nathan and Introducing Gael)

One

Two years. I had behaved myself (more or less) for two years and now it was time for some more fun. My little pony girl Sarabeth was now the reigning dressage champion and I was flying high. She was so sweet and so submissive and so sexy that the judges all fell in love with her from first sight. Of course, her awesome talent and that great dancers body didn't hurt, either.

Even though her home was a cage out in my stables, she never seemed to spend a whole lot of time there. We were always out in the arena or on the track or trotting around in my little sulky cart having a picnic out in the country or in bed together.

Sarabeth was, at this moment in time, my only pony and bed partner and companion. I imagine that if I weren't such a greedy bastard and a pervert, I could have just moved her in the house and maybe even married her after a few years and we could have lived a long happy domestic life together.

But that just wasn't me. I had gotten a taste of the whole sexual slave / human pony thing and I liked it. It had been one of my secret fetishes for years and when I finally found myself with the resources to get what I wanted, I decided to go for it all the way.

Besides, I had six cages out there in the stables. Five of which were currently empty. Even though Sarabeth was about as perfect a pony/partner/companion as a man could hope for, I wanted more variety. And more ponies. And more champions. I had also gotten a taste of the envy of the other pony owners when they looked at Sarabeth and watched her dance in the arena. I wanted more of that. The respect in their eyes and the pride of owning such a perfect and beautiful pony.

Even though I had taken her on a whim after picking her up hitch hiking one day, I had decided that I would stalk and research my next acquisition a little more carefully. Choose just the right one. Someone who would be a perfect fit in my stables. A fitting companion for both Sarabeth and myself.

After giving it much thought I came to the conclusion that my next pony should be a man. My only sexual experience with another man up to that point had been with Randy, my very first pony. I had purchased him and his mate Amanda at my first pony auction several years before I took Sarabeth. I was only really interested in her at first, but they were being sold as a "breeding pair" with the agreement that they would be kept together. The phrase didn't really mean what it sounded like. I had no intention of getting her pregnant and waiting eighteen years to raise a potential pony. When ponies were advertised as "breeders" it meant that they were not only exhibition stock but willing to have sex with their owners willingly as well.

Some did and some didn't. Amazingly enough, for some people the mere fact of being an owned pony was enough to satisfy their fantasies and their inner drives and there was either no need or no desire for sex to be part of the act. Just dressing up and playing the part was enough.

Me, I was in it for the whole enchilada. I was so turned on by the whole pony/owner thing that some days it was difficult to actually get out and train and not spend the whole day in bed.

Anyway, by Randy and Amanda being listed as breeders it meant that not only would they willingly give their bodies to me individually and together, they were also willing to have sex with each other for my entertainment. And they were well versed enough in the erotic arts that sometimes just watching them together was satisfying enough. In between, anyways.

The first evening they were in my home I took Amanda to my bed and made Randy stand in the corner with his hands cuffed behind his back and watch while I spent a couple of hours making love to his mate. Then after she had recovered, I had her tease him unmercifully for almost an hour before I uncuffed his hands and allowed them play time together. That had been entertaining.

The following evening after training I had taken them both to my bed for my first threesome. At one point during the evenings fun we had been little more than a tangle of bodies on the bed when I suddenly came to the conclusion that it wasn't Amanda that was sucking my cock. I stopped and watched for a while as Randy worked my member in and out of his very talented lips and realized that it didn't matter who was doing it as long as it felt that good. Later on I fucked my very first pony boy and enjoyed it immensely. I laid him on his back with his feet up almost to his shoulders and drove my prick into his tight little ass while his mate leaned her head in between our bodies and sucked his prick.

That was an interesting night and it had opened many doors for future fun.

I had kept them in my house (the cages still being under construction at the time) for four years. During that time I had come to the realization that what I wanted more than just submissive bed partners, was exhibition ponies. The training and the gatherings and showing off my pets to the other owners. I wanted more than just sex. I wanted a sense of accomplishment.

Plus I wanted a chance to show some of those blue blooded "old money" owners that they weren't the only serious contenders in the world. I had money and lots of it, I just didn't flaunt it the way they did. It took more than money and status to make a champion and champions were what I wanted.

Sadly, my two ponies were only mediocre contenders, having no real drive in the competitive arena. They were more "comfort and service" creatures than they were athletes. So after a long discussion and a somewhat sad farewell, I put them back up for auction and disappeared from the competition scene for a while.

Taking Sarabeth when I did turned into the biggest single stroke of luck in my entire life. I had been immediately struck by her beauty and her lithe sinuous body as soon as she had climbed into the cab of my pickup truck. And not long after I installed her in the first cage her true submissive nature had blossomed and she became the light of my life.

It only took six months of training to get her in shape for the gathering and at her very first one we took third place in the sulky race and second in the dressage. Six months later we took first in both events and I rewarded her lavishly.

I should have been content.

But I wanted more. Sarabeth understood that and sometimes I think she understood my nature better than I did myself. Just because she was sweet and extremely submissive to my will did not mean that she was in any definition stupid. Though she was lacking in formal education, Sarabeth was incredibly intuitive.

Hell, it may have been her idea for my formal campaign to acquire more ponies. I don't really recall. We did discuss it quite often.

I had feelers out in several different directions. Both in person and through the internet. Twice a month I would head out to Springfield or even as far as Bay City to prowl some of the local BDSM clubs. I had memberships under different names in all of them. As I was now actually a kidnapper, I took precautions. I had fairly short hair but kept it just long enough to be able to comb or mousse it into several different styles. Adding glasses and a mustache or goatee out of my kit changed my appearance just enough to make any sketch by a police artist vague enough if it came down to that.

I had a certain "type" that I was hunting for, of course. There was no point in taking a new pony if I wasn't physically attracted to them. This was, after all, about me and what I wanted.

My physical attraction ran towards those smaller than me. I guess you would say "petite". Fully adults, of course. I wasn't into teens or children. That kind of thing made me grind my teeth in anger.

So I preferred them small, say in the five foot range, give or take a few in each direction. They had to be attractive and athletic or at least healthy enough to get that way with some training.

They also had to have that submissive spark in their soul. That deep seated need to be dominated. I had learned to recognize those from a distance. I was all about body language and learning how to read it. It helped weed out the pretenders and the merely curious. Especially at the clubs. It amazed me the first time I went into one of the clubs and realized how many people there were that were there just to appear "hip" and weren't really into the lifestyle at all, aside from wearing leather pants and hanging a pair of handcuffs on their belt.

I'd scoped out and checked out and even taken out so many young people from the clubs only to find them lacking in one way or another it was starting to get discouraging.

And doing the same task over the internet was even more difficult. It was so easy to learn to mouth the right phrases in a chat room and harder to tell who was actually who. An eighteen year old sub girl could in truth be an eighty year old man and vise versa. I'd invested a lot of time and money tracking down leads only to be disappointed time and time again.

Through it all, Sarabeth was there, rubbing the frustration out of my shoulders when I returned home or left my computer in disgust.

"Patience, Master." she would whisper in my ear. "Patience. Soon your stables will be full and you won't have to look anymore. You will have all the beautiful ponies you need, I know it." We would always end up in bed together after one of those nights. She knew exactly how to release all my frustrations, even if it meant returning to her cage with her bottom still pink from a brisk spanking and some lively sex.

There had been one young man that I had been keeping my eye on in one of the D/s chat rooms. His online handle was "Time Lord" and I knew right away he was a computer geek. He'd managed to get himself in through an anonymous server and had his tracks covered pretty well. I hadn't paid that much attention to him at first, as he had touted himself as a Dom in his profile.

But the first time I actually managed to have a conversation with him in a private side chat room, I knew that there was very little about his psychological makeup that was actually dominant. He deferred to me and addressed me as "Sir", even capitalizing the word on each usage. He intrigued me enough that I managed to plant a little bug on his profile that let me know whenever he was online and where he was. Of course, I never showed up anywhere but in the D/s chat rooms so he wouldn't get suspicious.

About a month after our first real meeting, Time Lord started showing up online just to meet with me. It was about that time that I started slowly introducing the idea of exploring his true submissive nature. The first time I mentioned it he rejected it out of hand with extreme prejudice. He swore up and down that there was nothing submissive in him and the whole idea was ridiculous and somewhat insulting. Wasn't he a Dom, after all? But the fact that he was showing up online just to talk with me belied his claims.

I pressed and backed off, pressed and backed off. Each time gaining a little ground and once in awhile losing some. Chipping away at his online armor and each time learning more and more about his mind and his psychological makeup. He intrigued me in a way that none of the others I had met lately had managed to and I was determined to pursue him further.

One evening during one of our chats I pressed him a little too hard and he logged off in a huff. About twenty minutes later I got an angry email from him that was little more than a page and a half rant about what a "sick bastard" I was and suggesting that I seek therapy for my "obvious mental defects". I sighed deeply and sent him a very calm and studied reply stating that when he was done being childish I would still be here, willing to talk again. He didn't speak to me again for a month.

Of course I wasn't idle during the moments in between chats. He had caught my attention and I wished to discover exactly who and where he was and what he looked like. From the very first time I spoke to him I set things in motion to discover his identity. My own crude and simple methods got me as far as finding out he lived in Cape Placid, just north of Bay City. That was fortunate. If he'd have been too far away things wouldn't have worked out as well as they did.

From there I put it in the hands of some people I had on the outside who were very good at that sort of thing. Professionals. Most of them present or former government employees who thought they were grossly underpaid for their talents and were always eager to earn a little tax free cash on the side. I always paid quickly and tipped lavishly for good service and they were always eager to hear from me. Since nothing I requested ever even hinted at subversion or espionage they never saw anything wrong with "helping out a friend in need."

There are some things that money can't buy, but information, especially in this digital age, isn't one of those things.

Each of my sources found different pieces and I put them together into a composite picture myself. Since I tended to pay well for good service, they all gave me more than I asked for and so there were many overlaps in the information which just helped to verify the data. And, after all, if you are doing a deep background on a normal average citizen there just really isn't all that much information.

A week before "Time Lord" had his little temper tantrum and cussed me in an email, I knew more about him than he probably knew himself.

His name was Nathan Terrazano, 18 years old. His grandparents had immigrated from Sicily. I had their names and a complete family history going back quite some time. Nathans parents had been killed in a fire when he was three and he had been raised in a Catholic orphanage. He'd done well and had gone to St Mary's High (of course) and graduated when he was only 16 years old, being exceptionally bright. He was presently halfway through a four year degree in Computer Science at the local community college in Cape Placid.

While going to school, Nathan was working part time for a company called Memetech, a software development firm based out of Kansas. He helped develop games and other software that they were trying to market. Working from his apartment, or the local internet café, or the park, or anywhere he could jack into an errant wi-fi signal, Nathan was earning enough money to pay for his college with enough left over in his pocket to live fairly comfortably, if not lavishly. In the folder on my desk was bank statements and paycheck receipts from the accounting office in Kansas. And there was lots more.

One of my people had managed to get me pictures. Oh..... My. He was gorgeous. A little skinny, perhaps. Overworked and underfed. Nathan spent a lot of time in the internet café drinking designer coffees and eating very little in between. Mostly pizza and Chinese takeout, like most young men his age, I suppose.

But aside from that he was beautiful. Small, as I had hoped. About 5'5", maybe 130 tops. Beautiful long brown curly hair that reached just past his shoulders which he kept back in a tight pony tail most of the time. Dark brown eyes and a slightly olive complexion that represented his southern Italian roots. And despite being a bit on the thin side, he was very well built. He stayed active enough walking and riding his mountain bike back and forth to and from the college and around town to keep himself in decent shape.

My operative had almost completely filled a digital disk with pictures taken over the space of a week. He'd even managed, by renting an apartment across the street, to get pics of Nathan coming out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel and one or two almost out of frame of him wearing nothing at all. I nearly drooled. The first time I opened the pictures I had been laying in bed with Sarabeth, my laptop on the sheets between us.

"Ooohh... He's pretty, Master! Is that going to be your next pony?"

I nodded. "If everything works out to plan, anyway. I sure hope so." We watched more pictures flipping by on the screen. When the pics of him coming out of the shower flicked past I whistled softly. Sarabeth laid a hand against my forearm and tickled my skin with her nails. "Are you going to let me play with him too?"

I shrugged. "If you can behave yourself...... perhaps." A small grin twisted one corner of my lips. She managed to look shocked. Her hand went to the center of her chest, right between those small perfect breasts. "When have I not behaved myself, Master? I think I've worked pretty hard to be the perfect pony for you."

I relented and slipped a hand behind her head and kissed those little cupid lips then patted her cheek gently. "Of course you are the perfect pony, Sarabeth. I could ask for none better and I would be nothing without you." I pointed back at the monitor where pictures of Nathan were still flipping by, over and over. "And when I take him you will have plenty of play time with him. I promise."

"So you decided to take him?"

"Oh yes. His fate is already sealed. He's young, athletic and pretty. Smart and, above all, he's submissive. Even if he won't admit it to himself, he wants to be dominated. And I am going to take him and make all of his dreams, and mine, come true. Nathan will be my next pony."

Sarabeth frowned a little in concern. "I hope he doesn't mind it too much."

I almost laughed out loud. Let's see... I was going to kidnap him and keep him naked in a cage and turn him into a fetish object and a servant and a sexual plaything. He'd already told me that he had absolutely no interest in other men so I was going to have to force him to give himself to me sexually against his wishes.

I suspected he was going to mind that quite a bit.

Two

While Nathan was away having his little temper tantrum, I missed talking to him and decided that I had to see him in person at least one time before I took the next step. It was a gamble, but one I was willing to risk. And I needed to make sure in my head that he was the one I wanted. After all, I couldn't just kidnap him and then say "Oops. Sorry. My mistake." and then let him go again. If I took him it was going to be forever and I wanted to make the right choice.

After some long discussions and some careful coaching I decided to take Sarabeth with me on her very first "free world" excursion. She'd gone with me to the gatherings, of course. We spent hours and sometimes days traveling in my RV getting there and back with no problem whatsoever. But this was going to be the first time I had her out among the non-fetish people since I had taken her. This too, was a gamble. After all, there was nothing keeping her from running off and screaming for the police saying that I had kidnapped her once we made it outside the walls of my ranch.

Nothing except her professed love for me and her own submissive nature. I had faith in her. I just hoped it was enough.

As Cape Placid was about a five hour drive from home we decided to make a weekend of it. Packing a case for me was no big deal, but for Sarabeth it was problematic. When I took her she had nothing but a small pack with cut off shorts, tight t-shirts and underwear. Except for the sweats I had her wear outside on chilly days or when we traveled, she had not worn a stitch of clothing other than a collar or a harness since then. So we spent a few hours on the way, buying her four dresses in varying lengths and colors to bring along for the trip. Since we were not really sure of what situations we might find ourselves in, we also picked up a couple pair of tight blue jeans and some very snug and revealing t-shirts. My very favorite of the dresses was a short black velvety strapless number that looked like it was going to fall off of her at any moment. I very much enjoyed seeing her in it and I enjoyed even more taking it off of her when we got to the hotel.