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.
Click here to see the complete report.
For once I was lucky, or so I thought: the late afternoon’s outdoor training had been cancelled. My group was due for its “initial evaluation”, whatever that meant. It couldn’t be nearly as painful, degrading and generally mind-searingly mistreating as pulling a sulky plus whip-happy driver through the woods (the term “outdoor” always referred to activities outside the camp’s perimeter).
When we gathered in front of our barrack, I already saw myself under bridle again. Then Miss Cuntling made one of her upbeat announcements.
“We make a trip to the main building, where you’ll be undergoing your initial evaluation. It’s a standard procedure, and I want to see spotless behaviour.” Continue reading
Show, Don’t Tell
Lunch was light, as expected. Fruits and lettuce with a site of more lettuce. Our feast was supervised by the same two guards I’d encountered in the mess before. It struck me as odd that Tweedledum and Tweedledee regularly worked the same shift together. But hey, love always finds a way! As usual they hauled their ready-to-burst egos up and down the aisles, barking at inmates for no reason at all. Self-important yet intellectually ill-equipped, they were prime examples of common thugs. They bullied and hassled alright, but lacked the refined sadism of, say, a Seva Kandrin. Continue reading
Greetings, fellow pony enthusiasts! Of late I was a bit busy with parallel projects, some of which being other literary endeavours (those in the know can tell why “Return to Skyrim” and the sixth Part of “House of Cthulhu” had to be released on their respective dates). But “Pony Boot Camp – Part Eighteen” is on its way, and there’s even a sneak peek! Continue reading
Return to Skyrim
A stranger had arrived at the tavern. What could be seen of her under her cloak’s hood as she was sitting in the inn’s far corner put her origin into the devastated province of Morrowind. From the other tables she received the well-known array of looks, from quick glances to dismissive steers.
One patron in particular seemed to take offence at her presence. A rough article he was. Not nearly in the midst of his years, he already carried the careworn look of a man having seen too many winters.
Akatosh knew, three of four seasons in this Gods-forsaken land were winters! Continue reading