Tag Archives: reins

A Good Pony

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


Pony Boot Camp — Part Forty-Six

Aftermath

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


Pony Boot Camp — Part Forty-One

L’Estrapade

I didn’t know how Sixteen was about to get back to the camp. I didn’t care beyond curiosity, neither. Even about my own fate I mused in a detached state of mind. In the wake of my fit of temper I was trapped in dark, almost self-destructive euphoria. I would be disciplined, that was for sure. Yet I hadn’t got the faintest idea about how harshly my actions would be dealt with. If I had attacked a staff member, things would turn extremely ugly. But another pony? I wasn’t even sure whose jurisdiction I was under in the case at hand. Kendrick’s? Miss Cuntling’s? The warden’s? Did they differ? Did it matter?

Maybe I would be long-term bridled like Eleven, maybe I would be hugging the whipping post. Continue reading


Pony Boot Camp — Part Twenty-Six

Terra Incognita

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


Pony Boot Camp — Part Twenty-Five

Miss Cuntling’s Day Off

The ridiculous honking noises startled me so much I almost fell out of my bunk. Sure as shite that wasn’t Kandrin’s whistle.

“Goooooood Morning, Deepfall!”

In the barrack door stood Kendrick, a bulb hooter in one hand. It looked original, like those brass horns on really old cars. He was obviously enjoying his toy, honking cheerfully at girls to chase them this way and that as he strode up the aisle.

“Forecast says cloudy, then clear, 24°C, light west wind. See you lovelies outside!” Continue reading


Pony Boot Camp — Part Twenty-Three

Jinba Ittai

First thing after the big morning fall-in was corral training. For reasons nobody had bothered revealing to us we were to be fitted with full tack right from the start – which paved the way for another gratuitous dressing scene. As Kendrick pulled my crotch strap tight, I went on the tips of my toes – or, given that I was already standing en pointe, on the tips of my hooves. From another corner of the tack room our resident pervert glanced over whilst continuing the tedious task of lacing up Eleven’s monoglove. Creepy Chap might hold strange beliefs when it came to romantic interactions, but he knew a randy pony if he saw one. Continue reading


Pony Boot Camp — Part Fourteen

Defiance

This was an undeniably beautiful spot, I had to admit that much. Located right at the foot of the mountain plateau, the glade was basically a cul-de-sac, with the trail being the only way in and out – at least if one was yoked to a sulky. Miss Cuntling had reined me to a relatively gentle stop near the natural pool where the water collected after its non-stop decent. A fine mist filled and cleansed the air and created ethereal rainbow effects. Even in my exhausted condition I gazed at the impressive display before me, the churning and roaring flow crashing down into the pool. Not that the Deepfall sported an extensive amount of water. The height of the drop was what gave it its might. The fall’s brink, surrounded by huge spruces dramatically clinging to the ground, lay 200 metres above us. Continue reading


Pony Boot Camp — Part Thirteen

Under Bridle

By now more ponygirls had arrived to be readied for a little tour. Handlers were busy harnessing them to the carts. A tall and thin tomboy with scraggy black hair caught my attention in particular. 1310, if I wasn’t mistaken. Despite being snugly embraced by tack her lean body still managed to show off the elaborated tattoos running intricately along her limbs and down her back and sides. The dark inkings went disturbingly well with sturdy leather. Continue reading


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.

Continue reading


Pony Boot Camp — Part Eleven

Curbed Ardour

Our fate was sealed, and no mistake. Back to the corrals we went, where preparations for the next phase of our breaking in had been made. Kandrin was leading Fifteen, Sixteen and me. On the grass next to the short path between barn and paddock area the sulkies were parked, ready for us. To say I had a sinking feeling in my guts as we high-stepped past them would be an understatement. The handlers made us stay, not quite in line, but in a somewhat looser formation. Whatever they had in mind would need a bit of space. Continue reading