Any hopes Kim had of the weather being nicer in Kentucky were dashed when she realized her destination was in the mountains. The uber dropped her off outside a wrought iron gate hung between a pair of brick pillars and topped with bronze horses. Across the top arch, the words Cnoc Áine Stables were rendered in an elegant scrip, framed by bundles of wheat. On the other side, a decently thick woods carried on back, with only a twisted driveway showing any signs of humanity.
She'd just begun to shiver again when the whining of an electrical motor reached her. Moments later, a bundled up man in a golf cart appeared around the corner, spotted her, and waved. Cautiously, she waved back.
For the next year, this man would technically be her owner. Gerald Desmond, formerly of Ireland, had come to the United States seeking freedom from persecution, or so he claimed according to Wade. He worship a faery queen named Áine, whose domains were fertility, horses, healing, sovereignty, and a few other things. Part of that worship, for some reason Kim could not guess, had to do with ponygirls. Given UK laws did not recognize the idea of "consensual harm" apparently, that had put his practices in a very vulnerable spot. Fortunately, he was rich enough to pack up and move to the Kentucky mountains, favoring a state known for its horsecraft because of his beliefs.
Her host, she didn't like to think of him as her owner, climbed off the cart. He was a bit under six feet, and even under his bundled coats, Kim could tell he had extra weight around his gut. His features were not quite aristocratic, but they were good looking, and his graying beard was neatly trimmed. All in all, as he gave her a smile, he made her think of a middle-aged, friendlier Sean Connery.
"G'day to you," Gerald said as he opened the gate. "I take it you're Miss Kim?"
"Yeah," she said, fighting back nerves. "That's me."
"A pleasure," the man said, a bit of brogue to his words. "A right pleasure. Let's get you up to the farm and sorted out, shall we?"
"Uh, yeah," Kim said, following him to the cart. "That would be great. I'd like to get out of the cold."
She blushed as Gerald looked her over. Unable to go home, she'd been left with just the spare clothes Wade had given her, plus a coat he let her borrow. The next day, he'd arraigned for her to fly to Kentucky and take an uber here. Other than the clothes on her back, she could reasonably claim to own absolutely nothing. Now she was giving herself away.
"I'm sure you would," Gerald said as they sat down. He pulled a thermos from the floor and handed it to her. "Hot chocolate. I wouldn't get used to it, but Wade said you'd had a hard time of it, so we'll start you off as easy as we can."
Kim nodded, not looking at him as she uncapped the thermos and carefully sipped the warm beverage. Gerald wasted no time, zipping them up the drive way at a jolly pace.
"I'd have put some fine local bourbon in there for you," the man said cheerfully, "but your friend told me you had a bit of a drinking problem and one of the things we need to do for you is some detoxification."
"Drinking isn't my problem," Kim said sourly.
"Aye, is it no then?" Gerald said, giving her a roguish smile. The man was old enough to be her father. Hell, he might be old enough to be her grandfather, depending on when he started. Still, it sent something through her.
"No," Kim said, not wanting to admit she was blushing. "Life is my problem, drinking is my solution."
Gerald let out a belly laugh that shocked and comforted her.
"Ach, a bit of the Irish in you after all then, Miss Kim," he said jovially. "Still, if I might offer a bit of advice."
"Sure," Kim said, feeling warmer and a little bit more comfortable.
"Don't go thinking of liquor as a solution. Drink is the curse of the land," Gerald said. "It makes ye fight with your landlord, it makes ye shoot at him, and it it makes ye miss."
In spite of herself, Kim giggled, making Gerald's smile a bit bigger.
"Aye, there's a pretty lass under all that mess," he said confidently. "Well get you fixed up, don't you worry."
Some of the cheerfulness left Kim.
"I don't know," she said softly. "I'm sick. Really sick."
Her host slowed the cart down and put his hand on her knee.
"Don't ye be worrying yourself none," Gerald said, gently. "Aine's a right powerful faery. She'll be able to fix that which has made you ill. I shouldn't think it take more than a month for the flesh. Ye mind may take longer, depending on the damage. Wade said you faced something might fierce. That sort of thing takes time, sometimes a lot of time, but if ye stick with it, ye'll be right as rain again deary."
"Okay," Kim said. It wasn't like she had a choice, but his words did make her feel better. He believed. Maybe that would be enough.
The cart cleared the trees and they entered a fairly large cove, surrounded on all sides by mountains, giving it shelter, with forest running around the edges. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, but otherwise the place was mostly just gently rolling hills, with a rather large one rising up in the center. At its peak, a bronze statue of a woman rose into the air.
"That be the Cnoc Áine," Gerald said, pronouncing it Knock On-ya. "I named it after a place back home that was sacred to Aine. When I first came here, I felt this place was right for it, and dedicated all my lands to her."
"I see," Kim said, trying to hide her skepticism. "And why her?"
"She came to me in a dream," Gerald said, good naturedly. "Some say I can even trace my family line back to her, though I'm not sure. Still, a few years ago, I began to have dreams of a red mare, racing through the hills. After a time, she turned into a woman who did the same. At some point, the woman became the horse and the horse the woman. I felt her calling to me, telling me to build her a sacred place so that she might return some day. So, I started looking for a place to do just that. Eventually I found this place and when I laid to sleep upon that hill over there, I saw a farm and myself raising horse women, so I set about to do just that."
"Uh huh," Kim said, her skepticism slipping out. Still, if he was offended, Gerald didn't show it.
"Tell me," the older man said. "I know we agreed to keep who you are a private matter, but how did you get your start doing what you do?"
"I got a request on my baby-sitting website," Kim admitted. "It just seemed like the right thing to do."
Gerald nodded and squeezed her knee as they drew up to a set of buildings. All three looked like they'd been plucked from the Irish country side, with white wattle sides and thatch roofs. One was big house, two stories at least, with a pair of chimneys at either end. The second was a small cottage, probably the size of a one bedroom apartment. The last was obviously a barn, also two stories, and dwarfed even the house.
"How we receive our calls changes," he said. "But the fact is some of us are called none the less."
Kim nodded and put the empty thermos down. She wasn't even aware she'd drunk all of it till it made the hollow sound on the floor. Gerald gave her a smile and led her into the barn.
Blessed warmth wrapped around her, the smell of fresh straw hit her nose, as did the smell of people. It looked like a fairly normal barn, or at least she figured it did. Down at one end was what looked like a small communal shower across from what looked like a tack room, with a set of stairs going up to the second floor. At the other end were the stalls. Twenty in total if she had to guess, ten on each side. Most of them had the doors open, but she could see five with wooden signs over the top.
Luna. Windrider. Gumdrop. Sugardrop. Amber.
"We're still in winter," Gerald said, leading her over towards the shower and tack room end. "Which just means we have the ones on permanent at the moment. Luna belongs to Missus Rostropovich. Ye'll be working with her for your show training. She's a nice lady, lives in that little cabin you saw. Windrider belongs to Jimbo. He's in the big house with me. They do most of the farm work around here. You'll be with him for strength training and helping out with the labor if ye fit for it. Gumdrop and Sugardrop are mine. I'll be teaching ye the basics of racing. We'll find ye specialty, don't worry."
"I see," Kim said. She didn't, not really, but figured it was like any new thing. Eventually you'd learn what it was about. "And Amber?"
"Amber is what we'll be calling ye." Gerald said, giving her a gentle smile as he stripped off his coat. Jeans and a flannel shirt gave him a farmer's look. "Now, I'll be needing ye to strip, Miss Kim."
"Oh," she said, blushing. "Look, Wade said..."
"Given ye condition, ye'll nay behaving any sex for the first month," Gerald said gently. "So you don't have to worry none about that. Ye friend sent over your medical records, but I still be needing to do an examination myself."
"Oh," Kim said, blushing harder. "Right."
Reluctantly, she stripped off her clothes and stood naked. Thankfully the barn was warm enough it didn't matter too much, but it was still kinda cool. Her skin tightened, along with her nipples, making her blush.
Gerald just gave her that look again as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves and medical mask. His hands were warm, firm, gentle, and inexorable as they gently started to examine her. First her hair, checking for anything living in it. Thankfully that had been dealt with at the detox center. Next her eyes, ears, and mouth. Down her neck and shoulders to her chest, where he checked her spine, ribs, and breasts. She giggled slightly as he checked her belly, her arms, legs, and feet. Then blushed hard and looked away as he parted her labia and inspected her most intimate place.
"Aye, there be a couple infections alright," Gerald said. "Nothing we can't take care of though."
He stood up again, peeled off the the protective wear and threw it in the trash, before washing his hands. Kim started to reach for her clothes again.
"Aye, none of that, lass," he said firmly. "Ye starting a new life. Nothing of the old remains."
Kim blushed and looked at the ground. Wade had warned her she'd have to be nude, but she'd hope for a little more time. She settle for trying to cover herself up as best she could.
"Alright, first things first is we need to get you groomed." Gerald said.
"Groomed," Kim said, blushing. "Right. Sure."
Gerald pulled out a stool and threw a towel over it.
"Have a seat," he said, going over to a cabinet and pulling out some clippers, combs, and cream. Reluctantly, Kim did as ordered and sat down, crossing her arms over her tiny breasts. One of the combs started working through her hair, parting it.
Then the sound of clippers started up.
"What are you doing?" she asked, twisting around. Gerald gently put his hand on her head and made her face forwards.
"I'm trimming your mane," he said, as if it was the plainest thing in the world. "We'll use the cuttings to make your tails. You've got good hair. Long and thick. Now don't move."
Kim tried to process his words. Mane? Tails? Before she could collect herself, the clippers were already sliding along the side of her head in smooth, steady motions. Red locks fell by her side.
She wanted to protest. Wanted him to stop. Tears welled in her eyes as the side of her head was shaved bare. This was so wrong, so humiliating. Why had she agreed to this?
Because there wasn't any other choice.
Before she knew it, Gerald had switched to the other side of her head. Kim closed her eyes and tried not to think about what was happening. It was just a haircut. She wasn't going to be bald, that was obvious by the long red locks that he was leaving. It felt like he was giving her a mohawk. She'd never wanted one of those, but at least she still had some hair.
"Good girl," Gerald said, the palm of his hand bushing her mouth. There was something hard in it, and she tasted sugar. "Good girl. Good pony. Good."