First thing after the big morning fall-in was corral training. For reasons nobody had bothered revealing to us we were to be fitted with full tack right from the start – which paved the way for another gratuitous dressing scene. As Kendrick pulled my crotch strap tight, I went on the tips of my toes – or, given that I was already standing en pointe, on the tips of my hooves. From another corner of the tack room our resident pervert glanced over whilst continuing the tedious task of lacing up Eleven’s monoglove. Creepy Chap might hold strange beliefs when it came to romantic interactions, but he knew a randy pony if he saw one. Continue reading
Sleep did not come easily for me. Staring at the dark ceiling I tried to blank my mind, but only opened it to the day’s grisly events. I tried to occupy it with pleasant thoughts; funny moments with my flatmate, my favourite music, the smell of a new car. Ere I knew it my silly subconscious had made sinister associations with the Maserati I’d borrowed and the odour of freshly worn leather tack. Eighty-six more days of this, and I would be in need of some serious therapy – if I would be able to lie on a couch, that was. Continue reading
Trial by Fire
There was no brazier with glowing coals. I made that up for dramatic effects, to grab the dear reader’s attention. Yet there’s no reason to feel cheated, for the branding iron was very present nonetheless. About half a metre long, with a heating coil near its business end, it waited for us on a small table next to the sawhorse – and it had brought its twin as well. Continue reading
Foresightful as I was, I had a small towel at hand as I removed Patrizia’s gag. It was a standard three inch ball gag. Defined by me as standard, that was, because I knew how Triz loathed huge gags. How they put unbearable strain to her jaw muscles. For ball gags – or ring gags not sitting too deep – three inches was the absolute limit she and her talented mouth could take.
Her chin and chest were already glistening with drool, but from experience I knew that a considerably higher amount had gathered behind the semi-sealing gag. My assumption was proven true as I worked the overly large ball out of her mouth and a gush of saliva followed. Hence the towel. Continue reading
Frequently Asked Questions about Ponygirls
My alleged luck ended on the next morning. After a night of weird and exhausting dreams, mostly about hostile individuals demanding answers from a gagged me, I dragged myself out to attend the small fall-in.
“Good news,” Miss Cuntling announced, “the results of yesterday’s evaluation are already at hand. All of you were deemed suitable to remain in the programme. Congratulations.”
Initially I wasn’t awake enough to grasp the full meaning of her words. But two kilometres in the crisp pre-dawn air got my mind back into gear. I’d tried so hard to fish for mitigation that I’d qualified myself for the full stay, despite my demerits. My trying to out-smart the system had backfired badly. A mixture of anger and self-hatred made me momentarily forget the cold air burning in my lungs. Why did I fuck up everything I came across?! Continue reading
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
The Louvre Museum has 8.5 million visitors per year. This blog was viewed about 75,000 times in 2014. If it were an exhibit at the Louvre Museum, it would take about 3 days for that many people to see it.
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