Ponygirl Vet — Part Six of Y

Ponygirl Vet

Part 6 of Y

The tethered ponygirl remained docile when Vera eventually directed her attention towards the animal’s bum. Still, the vet registered the slight shudder in her patient, that tell-tale shift from arousal to distress. Anal insertion was part and parcel of pony training – those tails wouldn’t stick by themselves. Well, actually, they did. In tack-lingo the term “tail” referred to the unit as a whole, comprised of the insertable portion and the strand segment. Applejuice did not fight the removal in the slightest, yet had no full control over her fundament. The complex array of muscles flexed and relaxed around the pear-shaped rubber bulb it was trapping with its very own grip. Vera maintained a constant pull action, under which the taut ring finally opened.

Alterations for Pony Boot Camp (XI)

It comes to little surprise that the final part of Skeleton Crew will take some time, and I honestly see January of next year as the soonest possible release date. One cannot rush art (so why rush rubbish then?). To fill the void, let’s do some more tinkering with PBC, as Alterations X was of course a chapter in disguise.

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!

10th Anniversary of Pony Boot Camp — “It was either this, or…”

Yep, 10 years sounds about right. Although for Seventeen it would feel more like 26 days. 7^th November, to be precise, as I cunningly use a chart with dates, key events and so on to keep track of what’s going down at the DACC.

Right now everybody’s favourite ponygirl is still stuck in Part LX, not that this is a bad thing. Much effort I put into this, the so far latest chapter to celebrate the 10^th anniversary of Pony Boot Camp. In passing it also cracked the 160,000 words barrier, which may serve as an answer as to why it took me a decade to get our anti-heroine to where she is now. My initial layout predicted about 20,000 words, and featured next to none of the intricate character relationships which now carry the narration (together with the occasional fetish overload, that is). Had I known what I was getting myself into, I would have probably opt out and done something else with my leisure time. Breeding ponies, for example.

Pony Boot Camp — Part Sixty

The Hand that Holds the Reins

(Pony Boot Camp 10^th Anniversary Chapter)

I made it back in time and slipped into the barn through the mild chaos the arrival of the Twoers had raised. Leather gear collected next to spit-dripping steel bits and of course ponysuits. More than one fellow filly needed my assistance to get out of the snappy material, as exhaustion, pain and roughly two hours of sweating rendered the procedure significantly more difficult for them as it had been for me a short while ago. We unbuckled, unlaced and unbridled for twenty minutes until the last pony was stripped down and under the outdoor showers.

Pony Boot Camp — Part Fifty-Nine

Steal the Look

With Zero-One’s taste on my lips I sent my thoughts out again into the dark, onto those well-trodden paths of my escape scheme. The ease with which I had obtained the coil of wire had made me confident that I could salvage my ponysuit, if it really was my suit that I had seen in the chest. All it needed was good timing and a bit of dare. Not that there was much of a choice. Even when completed by the non-hoodie (a “noodie”?), my DACC-issued clothes were too thin to keep me warm at night, especially during rests. Yep, I would have to rest in between crossing heavy terrain at night, and I would prefer doing so without running the risk of hypothermia – or gleaming like a snowman.

Pony Boot Camp — Part Fifty-Five

Weird Turned Pro

Dawn would not come lightly. After the near-perfect disaster that had been last night I woke from a mockery of sleep more exhausted than I had ever felt. Half-dreams filled with Zero-One’s sobbing, with thorns and haste clinged to me as I dragged myself to the little fall-in. An invigorated Kandrin gloated over our misery, yet spoke no word of the incident. She did not have to. Judgement would be upon the red-haired girl come eve.

Sneak Peek: Pony Boot Camp — Part Fifty-Four

Month’s end has once more snuck up on me and had me faced with the choice of either hastening my writing or postponing the next chapter into the first week of September. Guess what? Right: One cannot rush art. Part LIV will be more plot-oriented again, giving the story arc of Seventeen’s escape plan another boost.

Pony Boot Camp — Part Fifty-Two

Hierophant

As awe-inspiring as my driver’s tailing technique might be, it left me quite unsurprisingly with my tail sticking out of my bum, marking me as a demi-human at best. In that regard I was the same to H-Beard that I was to Kandrin, only his attitude towards such an entity was hopefully more benevolent. He did, however, believe in a well-split vulva just as everybody else around here. The thin leather belt, though oiled, brought fresh pain. But Kendrick’s delegate had earned so many bonus points during the last five minutes that he could use the electric branding iron on my clit and still win a popularity prize.

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.