Alterations for Pony Boot Camp (X)

As announced in my comment to Part LX, Pony Boot Camp finds its current continuation not in a separate submission, but in an extension to said part, because I want this special chapter to fully reflect the occasion, and because hubris is a real thing (a word count of over 7,800 may illustrate this point). You can now find the new material added to the paragraphs posted so far, or – convenient for those who have already read the original post – further down.

The lavish festivities for the 10^th anniversary are hereby concluded. So, full steam ahead to Skeleton Crew, Chapter III!

Ponygirl Vet — Part Four of Seven and a Half

Ponygirl Vet

Part 4 of 7½

With her view on the whip significantly altered by her experience between the taming posts, the treatment of her hooved patients had undergone changes as well. A believer in holistic approaches, Vera hadn’t been content with tending to the bloody stripes on a ponygirl’s body anymore. To become a better pony shouldn’t simply mean to fear the lash, but to grow in one’s abilities, so corporal intervention would be rendered obsolete for the majority of situations. Not every handler warmed up to Vera’s outlandish philosophy equally, and the veterinarian suspected Blondie to be a particularly reluctant scholar.

“Gooood filly…” Vera reassured as she made true of her promise and opened Applejuice’s reverse prayer bondage.

Pony Boot-Up

With the next part of Pony Boot Camp being of course delayed, the following short story may serve as a little appetiser which lets us revisit the D.A.C.C.’s more benign sister institution known in the ponyverse as The Orchard.

Pony Boot-Up

The cold touch of steel to her lips sparked a new surge of excitement through Firefly. Revelling in it, she willed her mouth shut to prolong the moment – and to tease her handler. Adam just kept the bit pressed against her lips, knowing that she was playing coy and would surrender to it timely.

“Feeling feisty today?”

Firefly lifted her pony-booted right foot and brought it back down for a snappy solitary hoof sound. An obedient filly, replying to her handler instantly and in appropriate fashion. That the answer itself defied this very action only added to their mutual game.

Village Road

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.

https://www.deviantart.com/lapindefer

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.

Sneak Peek: Pony Boot Camp — Part Thirteen

Chances are quite low that Part Thirteen of “Pony Boot Camp” will still be released in March. The first or second week of April appears more realistic to me. To ease the waiting time I post a little sneak peek of the chapter. Alex/Seventeen performs her first real stint as a ponygirl and in its course will be rather unwillingly confronted with the beauty of nature.

Pony Boot Camp — Part Nine

Stranger than Fiction

Like always they let us march lock-step, a circumstance we had got used to. Our handlers who walked to our left were holding the reins of their two or three respective girls with slack, at least for the time being. What made our way towards the corrals so challenging was our special footwear. When stilting on your tip toes plus eight centimetres of fake hooves you might be somewhat distracted from synchronising your moves with those of the person in front of you – who is teetering about just like yourself.

Pony Boot Camp — Part Eight

Tacked

It was surprisingly cool inside, and the smell of straw immediately intensified. The further we went into the barn, the stronger a second aroma became. Leather. It didn’t take long to discover its source. At the circular area’s far side a large shed had been erected as some sort of building within the building, big enough to hold all of us. For someone like me who had never taken an interest in horsemanship nor come in contact with equestrian equipment, the amount of leather and metal gear stored in this place was awe-inspiring. Racks and walls were occupied by meticulously arrayed belts, harnesses, bridles and stuff I could not even name. I would come to know this place as the Tack Room, and I would come to fear it.