20 PSI on Stock Internals
My mind kept being preoccupied during the morning. Thoughts spun round and round in ever-same circles. Not the pondering of whether or not, but the agonising over how and when. I had set the upcoming new moon as the night of my escape, and if only to have an anchorage point. Taking the time I needed to prepare, essential as it was, held the danger of my being further deprived of physical and mental strength. With every day that the inhumane ideology behind the DACC could solidify, the abuse we were subjected to would increase.
Kandrin waved a small but bright torch in front of my face, and I flinched.
“Tongue out, Seventeen, and fucking keep it out!” Continue reading
It has been over half a year since the last chapter of Pony Boot Camp, so it is high time to get back in the saddle. To kick things off again, I gratefully accepted a special offer from LapinDeFer, a 3D artist and connoisseur of all things pony.
Of course it was only a matter of time for our paths to cross, and he suggested to post his work Taken for a spin on my Word Press site. After some minor modifications it became Village Road. I had suggested a pony tail for the jockey (“not that kind of pony tail”) since she’d looked like having a bad hair day. And as this train of thoughts took up speed, my upcoming story Bad Tail Day was born.
A Good Pony
Today, Mirage was especially longing for her handler to arrive. As soon as the first rays of sunlight had lit up the barn, she had awoken with that deep urge. The same urge that was bothering her for days on end. But today was that day again, when she might be granted release from her hardship.
Pressing her haltered head against her stall’s door, she was just able to see the gate of the barn. But no matter how much the ponygirl whimpered and pawed, it remained closed. What took him so long?! Didn’t he know what day was today?! Continue reading
Right now, Kendrick wasn’t a happy handler.
As whimsical and prone to antics as he might be, the staff leader always became noticeably ill-humoured as soon as he found his charges ridiculed – the fate of the four “winners” being a prime example. Kendrick truly held up the idea of a dignified ponygirl. Personally I always experience a certain lack of dignity when I drool out of my forced-open mouth whilst having a fake tail stuck up my arse. Better, then, to approach this concept from a different angle. Continue reading
Best of Show
Welcome back to the First Annual Deepfall Advanced Correctional Centre Gymkhana, and to a most dedicated and fiery field of contestants. We left the action with pony 1308 having quite a nasty accident, which my esteemed co-moderator Tweedledum will now further analyse. Tweedledum?
You are Tweedledum. I’m Tweedledee, but never mind. And that punch looked nasty indeed. 1308 certainly has felt it all the way up to her stomach. Tail plugs always have the tendency to make their presence known to the tailee – which isn’t even an unwelcome side effect as it improves a pony’s bearing. Of course mishaps as just seen should be avoided if one does not want to end up with various sphincters busted. Continue reading
The one tacking me was of course Miss Cuntling – I don’t know why I even bother mentioning this explicitly. Soon I was tall on my hooves and ready for my harness with the high-collared leather yoke. For the ensemble an upgrade in form of a new crotch strap was available. Kandrin made sure I saw her fitting it. Replacing the simple belt was a length of braided leather, partly split like its predecessor. Somehow, in my capacity of deputy kit manager, my first thought was that the interwoven design would be difficult to clean. Those worries were quickly pushed aside by the prospect of multiple sharp leather edges working between my legs. Continue reading
Ponygirl Rescue Centre
Mirage was in a bad shape when we rescued her. There was literally no spot on her that hadn’t been whipped, flogged or cropped savagely. And the beatings had only been one facet of the mistreatment the feverish ponygirl had been forced to endure at the hands of her former stable master. Her shoulders were sprained and inflamed from the reverse prayer bondage her arms had been kept in almost constantly. Her feet showed first signs of misalignment, and she obviously suffered from pain in her knees – both evidence to ill-fitted hoof boots. She was also dehydrated, sadly a very common occurrence. An isotonic drink from a bicycle bottle took care of the worst. Continue reading
No Good Deed…
Waking up was cruel. I had received just enough sleep for my maltreated body to be teased into false repose. A drop of water whilst I was parched. Easing myself out of my bunk woke up all my pains as well. Some dull and throbbing as they were gnawing at my muscles, others playing with razor blades in my still fresh wounds.
The two and a half or so hours of sleep turned out to be a torment in disguise. Better to spare oneself the agony of awakening. One has to suffer through a day of woe anyway. In my more battle-hardened days I would party into my birthday, celebrate through my birthday, and let my birthday end with some serious clubbing. Of course this would involve ridiculous amounts of high-octane alcohol as fuel – something not easy to come by here. Not that I was able to tell whether today was my birthday. In my current state I was lucky to guess the right year. Continue reading
The following short story is based on my longer narration Pony Boot Camp and is written specifically for cpony.com. I had originally planned it as a medley of several existing chapters, but found them too entangled to be shortened. So the content in this story is all-new. It is also not entirely in sync with the main narration chronologically and canon-wise, but would have its place roughly around chapter 30.
Having read the source work isn’t necessary to enjoy Stand-Alone Stable. Seventeen, who is called Pony 17 here, is sentenced to 90 days in a special boot camp, where her group leader Kandrin shows her the darker sides of pony play.
Like the narration, the short story is meant for owners who like to be a tad mean to their ponygirls now and then.
Pony Boot Camp – Stand-Alone Stable
I gave a wince of pain as Miss Kandrin pulled my reins tight across the overhead bar just outside the tack room. Secured like this, I couldn’t even back off or lower my head without causing myself further pain. And if there was one thing bestowed upon me plenty, it was pain. So I stood straight and proud, rocking slightly in my pony boots which literally kept me on my toes.
“Don’t feel sorry for yourself, Pony 17. I told you what would happen if you show that attitude again.” Continue reading
Under my hooves the ground changed towards a more bouncy, less cushioning nature. My perfectly executed high steps caused hollow sounds, and the wheels of the sulky began to rattle in a distinct frequency. That, and the intensified noise of flowing water told me I was crossing the old wooden bridge. It was the first time Miss Cuntling had made me take this route instead of the trail that led upstream towards the Deepfall. I’d love to describe the scenery as I trotted deeper into the woods, but Kandrin had opted for the full blinkers. No distractions from the rein commands. And since this measure alone wasn’t sufficient to solve my alleged attention span problem, Miss C. had done what she liked to do best: She’d fitted me with a new bit. Continue reading