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
We Interrupt this Ponyplay Porn to Bring You More Crap about Wood Elves
“You look like shit.”
“Yeff, ma’am,” I mumbled meekly.
No-one could argue with her statement. That Miss C. had brought it up during the group fall-in showed bad form, yet held nothing new to the other girls. More than once I had woken them up with my groans during the night. Having them witnessed the effects of my punishment fell in line with Kandrin’s “show, don’t tell” doctrine.
“You have my permission to see the doctor.”
“Fhank you, ma’am.” Continue reading
It is not without pride that I announce that with the last chapter, Part Forty-One, Pony Boot Camp has broken the 100,000 words barrier. According to my processing program, the current version including chapter headlines and so on is sporting exactly 102,520 words!
[pause for applause] Continue reading
Day two after Ten’s flogging began as a carbon copy of most others. Kandrin’s whistle. Small fall-in. Morning run. But this time I took a closer look at the fences. The rolls of razor wire on top of both the inner and the outer barriers made climbing them a bit tricky. Maybe I could dig a shallow pit under each fence and squeeze myself through. It was still way too dark to determine if and how the wire mesh was secured to the ground. In the eastern and southern section where buildings stood close enough to the perimeter to shed some light, I found the bases either overgrown by grass or covered in wet leaves. Continue reading
Originally I had planned for Part Thirty-Nine to be released this month, but as so often before my writing routine was messed up by an annoying reality. Since I am now aiming at the first week of October, here’s something to shorten the waiting time: Continue reading
The fifth instalment of “How not to write a story”…
It was a bitter mockery that pony training was scheduled as our first activity.
is changed into:
It was a bitter mockery that pony training had been rescheduled to be our first activity. Continue reading