Tag Archives: Whipping

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-Two

Vanilla Dreams

Sleep did not come easily for me. Staring into the dark room I tried to blank my mind, but only opened it to the day’s grisly events. I tried to occupy it with pleasant thoughts; funny moments with my flatmate, my favourite music, the smell of a new car. Ere I knew it my silly subconscious had made sinister associations with the Maserati I’d borrowed and the odour of freshly worn leather tack. Eighty-six more days of this, and I would be in need of some serious therapy – if I would be able to lie on a couch, that was. 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 Four

Flogging a Dead Horse

I was glad for the lunch to be light, because our afternoon saw something called “further physical evaluation”. It was basically extensive circuit training followed by a run along the camp’s inner perimeter. I am quite sporty, always have been, so the whole affair wasn’t too big a problem for me. Nevertheless, they sweat us nicely at the different exercises. Continue reading


House of Cthulhu — Third Night

~Third Night~

Consequences

Balogh László was pissed off. Not about the task as such, although he had had better things to do than carrying his arse through half the city in the middle of an autumn night and running errands.

No, it had been the implication which had been wrapped into Albert’s order. “Balogh goes” had meant “You are responsible for her training. Whenever she screws up, it’s to two thirds your fault”. Continue reading