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
As promised in the last post, here’s the short story inspired by the correspondence between LapinDeFer and me. Enjoy!
Bad Tail Day
Leaning against the wall of the barn’s central aisle, Émilie performed the ancient signal strength dance with her mobile in hand. Arm higher – zero bars. Turn to the right – null. Stretching to the left – why was she even trying?
Vahrenfeld was the largest ponygirl stable in private ownership; four separate barn buildings around a central coral hub, surrounded by tracks, trails, meadows and 600 square kilometres of wooded glens. And apparently not a single radio mast. The handlers’ quarters and the administrative area had Wi-Fi hotspots to satellite connections, but of course nobody could have been bothered to hand the password down to her. In vain Émilie had tried out the cardinal points of the cross-like structure arrangement. Now standing at the southern gate of the southern barn again she was running out of options and time. Her broom was waiting. Sliding her phone into the thigh pocket of her stable-issued cargo trousers Émilie shuffled back to her menial morning routine. 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
I was still thunderstruck after Kandrin had led her ersatz victim out for a private training session. If the group leader had found Eleven’s book under my mattress – and nothing other had her remark implied –, she had also discovered the newspaper. It being in my possession might or might not have any juridical significance. For Miss C. it could very well serve as pretence to search my stuff or me for contraband. And of course it was a great opportunity to mind-fuck me from behind.
“That was not good.”
Arne sounded sincere in his sympathy for Eleven. He might be game for the more smutty aspects of pony-based re-education, but blatant torture repelled him like it does any other descent human being. 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
Once again – and maybe for the last time where I live – it’s the Hour of the Horse, my favourite made-up holiday which is surprisingly still not a “thing”. And what’s the best way to celebrate such an event? Right, a brand-new chapter of Pony Boot Camp! And what is the second-best way to celebrate? Right again, a Sneak Peek of a brand-new chapter! Here you go…! Continue reading
The usual maintenance, you know the drill…
Gathering quick momentum from the waist, I brought my horse shoe armoured forehoof around and delivered a beautifully executed sucker punch straight to her left tit.
is changed into:
Gathering quick momentum from my waspie’d waist, I brought my horse shoe armoured forehoof around and delivered a beautifully executed sucker punch straight to her left tit. 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