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Previous thread: >>37556257
Archive Link:
- https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/37556257

>What is this thread about?
This thread revolves around stories about ponies getting bathed and pet.

>Can you elaborate more?
Sure! SPG (Slave Pony General) is mostly about characters dealing with the actual implications of the horrifying thing that is chattel slavery. It's more looking at how people with modern sensibilities deal with the ownership of another sentient being, and how most people aren't total cunts.

Are you new and want to write your own story but have no previous experience?
Check out these guides:
https://poneb.in/g4VpEg4f (clop specific)
We have a Discord server! https://discord.gg/b7EFmaj

Remember not to save anything of value on pastebin, use ponepaste.org
Have a broken pastebin link? Replace pastebin.com with poneb.in

Featured Story:
Changeling Lifestyle by Fireking
- https://ponepaste.org/2398
- https://ponepaste.org/2399
Most Recently Completed Story:
Getting Shy by AspiringWritefag
- https://ponepaste.org/752
- https://ponepaste.org/4185

Useful Links
Recommended Stories for New Readers: https://ponepaste.org/1587
Completed Stories [37]: https://ponepaste.org/1589
Popular Stories [Updated 2021/01/21]: https://ponepaste.org/1579
All Stories [201]: https://ponepaste.org/1590
(to be added) >>36733932 >>37561959
One-Shot Stories [43]: https://ponepaste.org/1584
Thread Archive: https://ponepaste.org/1642
Image Archive: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AiFkdye7rtydbfk0wBnid5vnFUg (outdated)
Ponepaste: https://ponepaste.org/user/SlavePonyGeneral
Skittles when?
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Fire and Sky 3 when?
A deal is a deal when?
What about shitcunt?
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That Celly requires boop and a hug ASAP.
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Bug when?
Really submissive good boy for his master cock fic when?
Fuck it, I've had this in my drafts for awhile now. May as well post it. Too lazy to go back and find the start of the story, here's the rest: https://ponepaste.org/4134

>Be Star Tracker.
>Your apprehension over meeting Maggie - err, Miss Maggie - dissolves as soon as you see her.
>She’s a 15 year old girl with dark hair and messy bangs that are so long she has to tilt her head up to peer at you from out under them.
>It takes just a glance to tell that she’s cripplingly shy, (her stooped shoulders make her look even smaller than she already is as if she’s trying to make herself nonexistent) but her brief smile at the sight of you is genuine as can be.
>You immediately feel at ease.
>It’s not the kind of work you were hoping for, but at least you aren’t going to be some sniffling child’s nanny; just the thought makes you shudder.
>The question is… What ARE you going to do?
>“Is he for me?”
>The grin from Anonymous, who finally gave you his name as you two drove up the winding dirt driveway to Heart and Soil, spreads wide across his face.
>“Well I figured if I was gettin’ some work ponies, I might as well get you a pet pony at the same time. Happy belated birthday, Magpie.”
>Her eyes widen in silent disbelief for just a moment before she leaps forward and throws her skinny arms around her brother’s neck, emitting a high-pitched squeal of pure delight.
>“Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!”
>Anonymous hugs her back awkwardly, flustered now that he’s suddenly getting more attention than he’s probably used to.
>“It was nothing. I know how long you’ve been wanting a pony.”
>The young girl’s gaze now turns to you and her light eyes practically glow with excitement.
>She approaches shyly, kneeling down in the dust in front of you and offering a hand as if you were some kind of dumb farm animal instead of a highly intelligent pony with empathetic capability.
>Does she expect you to sniff her hand like a dog??
>Suddenly you’re feeling unsure of yourself and how you should proceed with the introduction - affectionate? Formal? Like you would another pony?
>You hadn’t planned on not being somepony’s bedcolt.
>You decide to go with your gut and act as affectionately as you would have if you had been bought for bed duties, but in a less… er, overtly “friendly” way.
“H-hi Miss Maggie!”
>With an easy smile you close the gap between you two and nuzzle your fuzzy cheek against her upper arm, lifting a foreleg off the ground.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Star Tracker!”
>She giggles nervously and reaches across her body with the opposite arm to scratch at your forehead, fingers searching around until she hits the spot just behind your ear.
>Ohhhhh sweet Celestia, that feels good!
>Without thinking, you lower your eyelids and hum contentedly, pushing gently into her hand that moves from your head to under your chin where your head meets the neck.
>Subconsciously, your hind leg starts to twitch, trying to scratch the most pleasant itch being formed at the top of your throat.
>Maggie stops for a moment and you blink back at her in confusion; she giggles again, louder this time, clearly thrilled by your reaction.
>“Anon, he’s so cute.”
>“I’m glad you like him. The vendor said he was the friendliest of the bunch and I couldn’t just leave that sweet face behind.”
>He adjusts the sun-faded baseball cap atop his head and looks over towards the acres of land that make up the farm, sighing softly.
>“I need to turn off the irrigation in K5 and feed the boys before I come in for supper. Wash up and take dinner out of the oven will you? Should be just about done by now. Star Tracker, you can set the table.”
>Maggie rises immediately and dusts off her knees, heading towards the house with a committal
>She seems to be used to taking orders from her brother. Maybe these are regular chores for her?
>You scramble to catch up with your new master (mistress?) as she holds open the white screen door to your new home.
>“Don’t worry, Star, you can eat at the table with us.”

>A month has passed since your arrival at Heart and Soil and it’s been...
>Well, it’s been boring.
>Maggie has class at school for most of the week so the majority of your time is spent alone, trying to find something useful to do in the house.
>You feel like you’ve washed, folded, sorted, rewashed, and refolded every single piece of clothing in the entire household at least five times now.
>Sure, you’re glad to be inside and not sweating, pulling the plows like most of the other stallions right now, but you need more of a purpose than tidying up a house that you have already tidied to perfection.
>Not a single speck of dirt is out of place by this point.
>If you were a bit more confident you might try your hoof at cooking, but you fear wasting any of the family budget on making bad food for your Master and Mistress.
>Besides, Anonymous’ cooking is okay enough.
>All he knows how to do is cut vegetables and throw them in a roasting pan with a hunk of meat, but at least he knows how to not overcook them to death.
>The veggies at least; you don’t touch the meat, but you assume it’s suitable as well.
>You flop across Maggie’s bed (you’ll remake it later, at least it will give you something to do) and blow at the flop of your mane that keeps falling into your eyes.
>Surely this can’t be the rest of your life? Surely you were meant for more?
>The sight of Anonymous through the weathered window pane catches your attention and you smile to yourself as he drags one of the rakes through the soft soil of the garden bed.
>It strikes you as odd that he wants to be in on all the action of the farm. He apparently has enough money to buy at least 20 strong stallions to work for him and yet he’s outside with them all day, working just as hard as they are, taking care of the tasks better suited to human hands.
>Maybe Anonymous even ENJOYS this kind of work.
>The thought sends a shudder down your spine.
>If that were you, you would be sitting on the porch chair with a tall glass of lemonade writing lists of what other ponies should do to take care of the farm.
>Although you have to admit… It’s kind of attractive that your Master likes to work hard.
>He’s out there right now, lifting the cap off his head to wipe away the sweat forming on his brow, resting an elbow on the bed rake while he takes a quick breather.
>Your cock twitches at the sight of him like that - all dusty and damp and grinning that half grin while he shouts something to the stallions working on the next bed over - and you hold your breath, shifting your haunches uncomfortably to prevent yourself from dropping.
>You wouldn’t dare let yourself think dirty thoughts about your Master while in Miss Maggie’s room, much less on her bed.
>Now there’s a better thought; something for you to do, plus an excuse to go outside and see Anonymous.
>Maybe say hi to some of the other stallions - it’s been rare that you get to interact with them.
>You wiggle off the bed and trot down the old wooden staircase before entering the large, open kitchen with its huge windows that bathe the whole room in warm sunshine.
>The chipped white cupboards and coffee-stained countertops give the place a very cozy “shabby-chique” feeling and it almost reminds you of some of the Earth pony homes in Equestria.
>The kitchen would probably be a chef pony’s dream come true, but with the house’s current residents it is sadly underutilized and neglected.
>You almost feel bad for it.
>Surely in the past somepony would have lovingly kneaded bread on the wood counter topped island or had multiple pots of boiling sauces bubbling on the old gas stove. It’s a nice mental image.
>The thought once again enters your head that maybe you could be the somepony to start using the kitchen for real.
>Maybe later you’ll ask if Miss Maggie could take you to the library in town that she’s mentioned a couple times so that you could take out a cookbook.
>If your cooking is that bad you can chuck it in the compost and hopefully nopony will notice.
>You open the fridge and pull out a couple hoof-fulls of lemons, carrying them over to the kitchen island before dumping them on the counter top.
>A few minutes later you have a nice cold pitcher of lemonade sitting on the counter, with the droplets of condensation forming on the side starting to drip down.
>You’ve already snuck a couple sips for yourself so you know it’s good - not too sweet, not too sour and definitely refreshing.
>Carefully balancing a tray with the pitcher and some cups on it, you carry your treat outside, delicately stepping over the bumps and rocks in the dirt road.
>Anonymous spots you leaving the house and gives a welcoming shout, abandoning the bed raking in favor of you.
>He’s probably just interested in the cold lemonade on this hot day, but watching him drop everything to come to you still makes your heart beat a little faster.
>“Hey Star Tracker, whatcha got there?”
>You grin around the tray in your mouth and gently drop it into an open hoof now that you aren’t trotting.
“I thought you might like some lemonade, sir! Made it myself.”
>A delighted smile brightens Anonymous whole face as he tosses the rake aside and eagerly takes the pitcher and a cup.
>He gulps down two glasses so quickly that a couple droplets find their way out of the cup and roll down his throat before soaking into his dusty old shirt collar.
>You try not to stare, but can’t help a blush from coloring your cheeks.
>It feels lewd for some reason you can’t explain.
>With a satisfied sigh, Anonymous uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and calls to the other stallions.
>“You boys want some lemonade?”
>Ears pricked, the other stallions throw quick glances at each other to see if it would be appropriate to join, but it only takes one abandoning his work to get the others to follow suit.
>Suddenly the center of attention and surrounded by sweaty stallions, you’re basking in the murmured praise from your fellow… pets? Slaves? Coworkers?
>You aren’t sure what to call them.
>The other stallions for now.
>You try not to think too hard about how they must feel about you, what with you sleeping with the humans in a bed and eating human food at the table and all that.
>You’re clearly above them in hierarchy, but this situation is made less awkward by their simple desire for a cold, sweet drink during the work day.
>“Mighty fine, Star Tracker. Good boy.”
>Your master’s hand ruffles your mane and you lean into his touch, heart rate increasing again as his short nails scratch at your scalp.
>Oh Tartarus, you really need to give up the idea that you’re someone’s bedpony.
>More specifically, HIS bedpony.
>It’s just not happening.
>The other stallions begin to disperse and return to their work, licking their lips for any stray lemonade drips and politely depositing the used cups back on your tray before turning tail.
>One, however, sticks around.
>“That was pretty good. You’re Star Tracker?”
>You give him a once over: cream colored coat, freckled face like you, curly green mane parted to one side. His cutie mark is a couple of peeled nuts - pistachios, you think. He’s got a slighter frame than some of the others, but there’s lean, rippling muscle underneath that neatly kept coat of his that proves he’s just as strong as the other ponies here.
“Thanks! And yeah, that’s me.”
>He tips his head and offers a friendly smile, jade eyes gleaming.
>“I haven’t seen you around much. Guess the maid pony doesn’t like getting his hooves dirty, huh?”
>Maid pony?!
“H-hey, I’m not a maid!”
>The other stallion snickers, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
>“Oh really? Then what do you do inside all day instead of helping us take care of the fields?”
>Your cheeks burn bright red as you try to splutter a response, but in fact, you can’t dispute the fact that so far you’ve just been a companion pet and house maid.
>And frankly you’d rather be called a maid than a pet.
>He rests a hoof on your shoulder.
>“Don’t worry, I’m just grinding your gears a little bit.”
“Oh, haha, yeah...”
>You shake off, dispelling some of the awkwardness before smoothing out the flop of hair you’re using to hide half of your very embarrassed face.
>Anon, along with the rest of the stallions, has started heading back to work.
>“C’mon now, Pistachio, leave Tracker alone and get back to hoeing those radishes.”
>Pistachio - you at least know his name now - gives you a wink and quickly trots over to Anonymous’ side, getting ready to return to his task.
>You’re still feeling flustered, but you take a deep breath to steady yourself before grabbing the tray, empty pitcher, and used cups so you can bring it back into the kitchen.
>For the rest of the evening, your master’s praise echoes pleasantly around the inside of your head and you remember that Maggie let you have one of her old notebooks to write in since you don’t have your journal anymore.
>There’s a lot in your head that you want to put on paper, so you quickly excuse yourself from dinner to rush upstairs and curl up on Maggie’s bed, pencil in hoof.
>You have a lot of journaling to do.
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tfw no crystal slaves
Look really promising so far, don't look like this will end with this good boy getting what he want but maybe he can satisfy his desire for human dicks with another human that isn't anon someday
Oh damn, I remember this story from a while ago. Can't wait to see if Star gets his colt pussy bred by his master.
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So I guess I kind of owe this (plus >>37604156 from last thread) an update. I've been tinkering with some spootfur ideas, some of which are roughly 50% written. Not major stories - I still have no plans for F&S III largely because I have no plot for F&S III, and if there's one thing writing those has taught me it's not to start a story without an end in mind.

As for >>37604156 - I've actually been toying with a prequel to that story, going back to how they originally met. Iffy on it, needs some more filling out. In the meantime, I'm tinkering with some other writing.
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Slave mare comes with baking skills!
Any good cozy slave greens
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Very comf
Just write small slice of life one shots. Like the Christmas one. Where Spitfire shows her mareish side.

>As for >>37604156
Lurkernon is lurking!
I meant cozy glow
But this green looks good so thanks anyway
No there hasnt been a green of her yet.
Lot of potential there but nobody has got around to it yet.
Ya I thought there was not but I agree there is a lot of potential
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Page 10 dudes, gotta update some greens. What about the Celly rehab one? or the Cyrsi one?
So you now have 4 unfinished greens. Cmon, focus on only one. I like all, but this bedcolt one is in so early stages. The Scoots one is just barely past the intro, the Library Pone is just getting to the part where the main conflict is unraveled (Anon/Page Turner really realizing the issue), Bakery Slave is way past the intro. And now here is this gay bedcolt one, just past the initial setup.
Please please don't have this many stories open in parallel.
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awkward interactions with bug when?
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Hopefully soon. I need more of whatever's gonna happen.
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Ponni is not a morning horse.
Don't talk to her before she's had her coffee
I can't be the only one to find hind-legs incredibly sexy on ponies.
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You're definitely not.
But it's yet another mystery we'll never be able to solve. There isn't even a booru tag for it.
God bless Raps and his love of pantyhose.
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A cutie
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No update ready this week, I'm sorry to say. Vacation at parents house and flight complications meant I hadn't had time to finish it. The rest of the week sense like it will be much the same...
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Pony already had a set of tack when you caught her
Master is in danger
The only thing Master is in danger of is finding a very, very good girl.
Also back pain and dehydration.
Sorry bug bros
Need a bit longer, ive been uncharacteristically busy
All good boss
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Write more, writeslave!
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Up to the top again. Sure is quiet in here lately.
It comes and goes. Writing is hard.
Im readying staying out of trouble by mere accident browsing ponepaste, gotta say this is the longest green i have read, i like it.
will suck dick for bug
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its almost time for halloween
does pony get a cute costume, or a spooktastic one?
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How about both?
Spooky, sexy, and cute at the same time
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need bedfilly
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I mean, if you want to.
Hold bug. Hug bug. Snug bug.
I want to
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>dead story coming back to life
>super excited because it was one of my faves
>get to proofread the lewd part
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Whatcha talkin bout Willis?
now you've done and ruined their surprise. they'll never post it or trust you again.

should've kept your yap shut.
I didn't say which.
There's at least three dead writefags trying to resurrect. I could be talking about any of them.
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That's way too big for a filly.
Nah, that Anon is just a manlet.
How unfortunate.
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>tfw finally beat estrus drug addiction
>feels good man
G5 slaves when?
>humans harvest equestria's pony population
>but not all of them
>those left behind start to blame each other for not stopping it
>society fractures, G5 movie happens
>due to the universes being misaligned, thousands of years pass in ponyland when its only been a couple years on earth passage of time is synced while the portals are open, whatever
>second portal opens, harvested again though the much smaller population is disappointing
>second wave ponies are smaller and weaker due to their nearly-absent magic, get placed into supporting roles
>sunny gets sent to transport materials at Anon & Sons Fine Equine Enchanting
>and who is her manager but the one and only Twilight Sparkle, who she has hero worshipped since she was a little girl
>she has wings for some reason but it's very obviously her
>sunny starts a meltdown only for the legendary hero of ancient equestria to spray her with a bottle labeled bad horse water and give her a list of boxes to bring over from the warehouse
>twiggy has a lot of work to do today and some marelet fanfilly isn't making weightloss enchantments any easier
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cont? I'd love to see how this would play out.
hopefully never
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>pony starts watching educational stuff to learn more about hooman culture
>finds out about ancient cave paintings
>very confused horse noises
G5 poners are for punish
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I'm about a thousand lines into "Glimmer of Hope" and so far it's pretty intriguing. The thing that caught me off guard probably the most was how believable and grounded it is (save for the swearing, debatably). Its handling of religion in setting especially is almost uncannily plausible. Both in terms of ponies following human religions as well as how human religions handled ponies it feels very real.
I will say I'm curious to see where the plot will go as I haven't seen anything in particular stand out for what might end up happening like with most /spg/ stories.
Glimglam a bad girl.
The baddest girl.
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>Mama warned me about mares like you
>I was hoping she was right
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Pony is tired of being subtle
Master is gonna find himself handcuffed to the bed
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Bug eventually
Bedfillies always care about keeping her master balls dry.
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Ponies rise up against your human oppressors
This sounds awesome
If you own multiple ponies, do one get's picked as the alpha?
What happened to all the writefags? Its been days since the last update on any green.
I specially miss the celestia Rehab one, thats a Goldie
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Guess shitty green is better than no green, guess it is time to write.
To be honest this general next a break. At least for a month to see if anything change
fixing green bump
Happens whenever a new vidya comes out.
Don't know which one it was this time.
Your master let you stop taking the estrus drug why
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It's the only way.
I really cant wait to see what happens to celly next man. and also the magic going back is another bomb about to go off.
The anon who writes that amazing green left if out in a huge hanger man. hope he comes back soon
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It begins
What green is this from

And where can I find it
Shitcunt's story.
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What pony is it if it is mane 6 I am guessing twilight
Twilight thinks it’s customary for a human to have sex with their horse when anon calls twilight his horse by accident she is very scared confused and aroused is even more confused and aroused when anon does not get in the mating position from then on its a long quest to find out why anon is not taking her eventually they have sex after twilight prods a lot.
Then twilight realizes how much her trainings has got to her and freaks out
I really like these pics
I want to pet the pone
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big thonk
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Gibe me backgorund music to wirte to, now!
No, but ill give you some bomb ass infected mushrooms
This might come in handy when they reach...
You really made me believe it was going to be the Crabulon theme for a second
Depends on what you’re writing I guess
If you want something calm:
If you want the opposite of calm:
It was updated not that long ago
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>your pegamares start looking at you funny
funny haha?
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That certainly caught me off guard. Aside from it being present at all Anon wasn't too surprising.
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Freaking bird horses
Let me sleep
isn't that horse constantly in incest porn?
>making pony read the news
Cruel and unusual
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I absolutely back your reasoning for no F&S 3.
I personally feel F&S 2 got Anon and Spits the happy ending and that's that. I always find stories that go on after the happy ending has to create misery out of nowhere and it just never works.
I would enjoy some more shorts like >>37702199 suggested, just cute one offs

Always look forwards to your writing my dude
If she wants to be in my room, she's going to have to read the entire newspaper aloud. Including the advertisements, and she has to pull voices while doing it when she reads a quote.

> It turned out that Salki and the strange new female lived in a tent. Mayor Mare didn't yet have a good eye for nomad tents, but that one seemed larger and somehow more luxurious than the few she had seen so far.
> She hadn't been inside one yet, so when Salki held the tent flap open for her Mayor didn't quite know what to do.
> The first bit of strangeness was the fact that almost none of the people had set up tents, since their camping ground was so temporary. The second bit of weirdness was the interior itself.
> Mayor immediately scrunched up her muzzle in distaste as the smell hit her. There was the customary hole in the middle of the roof to let out smoke, but despite that there was a stink of sour milk, stale sweat and a scent she had come to associate with burnt meat.
> The source of it was obvious: a fire pit had been hastily dug in the middle and there were chunks of animal flesh sizzling among the embers.
> Salki soon gave up on waiting and simply reached over and tugged Mayor inside by the rope around her neck. She flattened her ears, took a deep breath, and entered the gloomy tent.
> The female sat on a cot opposite the entrance and Salki took another to the side. The rest of the floor was just grass, but Mayor didn't mind that. She took a spot by the fire opposite the female so she could watch her.
> Her first order of business, it seemed, was to take out the feathers in her mane and the bracelets from her forelegs. As she did that, the nomad spoke a few words and Salki answered, but Mayor Mare couldn't understand a single thing. She still listened intently, though.
> This was diplomacy. Her cutie mark was clear on it. Understand or not, she had to pay attention to the female and show her respect. She obviously had some important position in the tribe, especially if the way she had ordered Willow about was any indication.
> Mayor focused her ears on the lady and tried hard to understand.
> The next bit surprised her with how familiar it was: Salki extended a claw toward the mare and pronounced pretty well: "Meyermer."
> It was the closest he had been able to say her full name. He was making an introduction and Mayor immediately bowed her head. She knew from the youth that it was a sign of respect among nomads, just as it was among ponies.
> Then Salki switched his paw to indicate the female and said, while looking at Mayor: "Darga."
> It could not be clearer. Mayor made herself smile as politely as she was able and greeted the nomad:
"Hello, Darga. Thank you for stopping Willow."
> She wanted to say it better and cast an imploring look at Salki.
"Salki? Thank you?" she asked and pointed a hoof at the female.
> He understood and gave her the words she needed: "Bayar-lalaa."

> Just to make it clearer, Mayor Mare shifted herself sideways and patted a hoof on her back, where the welts from Willow's impromptu whip were quite visible on her tan coat.
"Darga, bayar-lalaa."
> The female didn't respond, but Mayor had been watching her face closely and caught a slight widening of eyes at this display of linguistic proficiency. The mare felt proud of herself and settled back down, hopeful that they could establish some kind of rapport.
> Salki spoke once more, but Mayor didn't understand his word: "Eey. Darga eey Salki."
> He pointed between the two, but the gesture with his claws didn't make sense to the mare, so she leaned her head to one side in confusion. The youth thought for a moment, then his face lit up.
> "Gol? Intor?" he said and Mayor glanced around in surprise, wondering if the two had come to fetch her. The tent was still empty and she could hear no one outside the flap. Salki wasn't finished, however. "Intor eey Gol," he pointed out, then did his paw-gesture again between himself and the female: "Darga eey Salki!"
> Mayor considered this and her eyes roamed the tent as she thought what might be a parallel between Intor and her daughter, and Darga and Salki. She glanced at the cot the youth was sitting on, as well as the one under Darga.
> Suddenly it clicked.
"Oooh, she's your *mother*! The same way Intor is Gol's mother! That was a clever way to put it! Um, thanks- bayar-lalaa!"
> Salki smiled at her and jabbered something else, but it was too rapid for Mayor to catch. He was still just as excited to teach her words as before, which was quite alright with Mayor Mare.
> She looked at his mother, who seemed content for now to simply watch the mare and listen to her picking up the language. She hadn't said a single word since she had spoken to Willow.
"Okay, now we got that, let's see if we can turn it around," Mayor murmured to herself."
> Salki stopped talking at her raised hoof.
"So - Darga eey Salki. Okay?"
> By now the young nomad understood some of her words and nodded at her question.
"Salki hmm Darga?"
> Luckily he was quite smart and understood what she was asking. He gave her the word: "Khue. Salki khue Darga."
> It was either the word for 'son', or for child. Mayor had a way to find out which. She prompted:
"Gol khue Intor?"
> At this the nomad burst out laughing and even his mother's lips quirked up in a smile. Salki shook his head and corrected: "Okhin. Gol okhin Intor!"
> Mayor grinned happily to herself and closed her eyes for a moment to commit these new words to memory. They might slip away and she wished she had paper and quills to write her vocabulary down, but in lieu of tools she just had to do the best she could with her brain alone.

> Besides, it wasn't as if there were many other things to focus her mind on. Perhaps for the first time in her life, she could dedicate all her mental effort on this one, single task.
"Okay, we're getting somewhere. Let's see what else we can learn..."
> Mayor looked around the tent for useful objects she could point out and get their names. Once she knew more words it would be easier and easier to learn new ones.
> Suddenly she was not in the least bit tired or sleepy, despite the awful couple of days she had had. Thinking about this new problem, getting excited about the prospect of establishing a proper relationship with these people, made Mayor's heart speed up and drove any remaining fatigue away.
> She shuffled her legs to bring them under her and make herself more comfortable. The female took a stick and prodded at the meat in the fire. It obviously wasn't ready to come out yet, because Darga just turned the pieces over and left them.
> Even a new gust of that awful smell didn't dampen Mayor's spirit. She kept glancing at the bronze bracelets. These people *did* value shiny things, after all. If she could entice Darga, or maybe their medical nomad, whichever of them was the leader, they might take the mares back to the portal and to Equestria.
> Gold and gems were so easy to come by that even the poorest pony could probably buy their freedom.
> Then- perhaps it was too soon to think of that, but Mayor couldn't stop herself from fantasizing, she would get the Princesses, perhaps all of them, to look at that place in the Everfree where the worlds met.
> She was still convinced it had to be closed. Salki was nice, but in general these nomads and their entire world were an awful place for ponies.
> Since her eyes were already on the grotesque lumps, Mayor decided to try for it. She pointed a hoof at the sizzling meat and looked imploringly at Salki. She would ask about something less disgusting next.

> ~~~~

> Salki was leading a rather tired, but pleased with herself Mayor Mare back through the camp. She was looking forward to sleeping off the residual ache in her limbs and to mulling over the new information she had gleaned.
> From what she could understand, it seemed that Salki's mother was some kind of a leader among the nomads. That meant Mayor had already befriended the chief's son, which was good progress.
> She had also added a few more words to her growing vocabulary, which would make dealing with the chief a little bit easier. It should also help her with Intor and Gol, and perhaps even Willow.
> That thought made Mayor wince and she hoped she hadn't abandoned Rainy Day to a beating by the angry hunter. It wasn't as if she had had much choice, but she would still feel guilty about it.

> The youth led her by the rope around her neck, but Mayor made sure to keep plenty of slack in it to show Salki she trusted him. They wound around dying campfires and the occasional tent.
> Despite the chill in the night, Mayor guessed that most of the nomads didn't want the hassle of putting their simple shelters up just to tear them down in the morning. That part told her that they hadn't yet reached whatever destination they were heading for.
> At last Salki stopped and Mayor looked around for the few people she could recognize. She spotted Intor sitting on a bundle of animal skins at one of the fires. Opposite her was another cot with Gol, but there was no sight of a pony and Mayor's stomach clenched up in fear.
> She was about to ask the young nomad about it, but then she spotted a skin-covered mass beside Gol. Mayor walked closer and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Rainy Day.
> The mare was apparently curled up on a cot, but her head was in Gol's lap and the nomad was slowly brushing her claws through Rainy Day's mane as she stared at the fire.
> Both Intor and her daughter looked up at the new arrivals and Salki held out Mayor's leading rope to the older female. He gave Mayor a quick pat on the muzzle, then left back for his mother's tent.
> That left Mayor Mare with her captors, although Willow wasn't present much to her relief. She walked over to Gol and looked down at Rainy Day. Her friend was more than half asleep, but her eyes opened fully when she spotted her.
> "Mayor? You were gone so long!"
> It was a challenge to keep the scorn from her voice when she saw the other mare's position, but Mayor remembered her own excitement while she had been chatting with Salki and his mother.
"I see you made yourself comfortable."
> Rainy Day caught a hint of disgust in her voice and her ears lowered. "You're one to talk. Where have you been?"
"I've been learning their language so I can get them to take us back."
> The other mare closed her eyes as the young nomad idly scratched her muzzle. "Well, it was either this or f-freeze do death. The fever's back."
> Mayor Mare was immediately sorry for her tone and she lowered her head to nuzzle her friend. Why should she begrudge her from taking what little comfort she could after their harrowing ordeal?
"I'm sorry. How are you feeling?"
> Rainy Day shifted her head to glance briefly at Intor. "She gave me some weird plant paste. It smelled like Aloe. I guess I'll see if it works."
> It didn't sound as if it would hurt, so Mayor just shrugged to herself and sat down beside Gol. The night's chill was starting to make itself known on her fur, but the fire kept the edge off it.
"Where's Willow?"

> "He left with some female," Rainy Day said. "I dunno what it was about, but it looked like she and Intor had a row. Actually, all three of them had."
"Maybe he'll stay with his, uh, let's call it special some-nomad," Mayor said in almost a pleading tone.
> She didn't want to see how angry the irritable and unpredictable hunter would be when he saw her. It was true that the tribe's chief had stopped Mayor's beating, but Willow probably couldn't take his revenge against that powerful female, so he would undoubtedly settle for punishing the mare some more.
> In either case, there was little the ponies could do about that, so Mayor settled down in the grass with a sigh.
"We should get some sleep. I don't think they're at their destination yet, wherever that might be."
> Mayor caught Gol's eye and decided to put some of her newfound skill to a test.
"Gol? [Walk, camp, walk?]"
> The young hunter blinked in surprise, but shook her head. "Untakh," she replied simply, but it wasn't a word Mayor knew. The mare considered how to rephrase her question, but she hadn't gotten far enough with Salki yet to be able to ask about the future, so she gave up.
"Okay, [thanks]."
> Perhaps the thanks was inappropriate, but it couldn't hurt to be civil, the mare thought. Gol shrugged a little to herself, then went back to scratching behind Rainy Day's ear.
> The fire's warmth and the stillness around them was starting to take a toll on Mayor. Her head swayed and her eyes wanted to close. She had to fight to keep them open and more than once she found herself nodding.
> There was no reason to fight it and the mare let her head lower down on her forelegs. It would be a hard day of walking when she woke up and she needed as much sleep as she could get.
> She roused briefly when she felt something settle around her, but when she saw it was just Gol covering her with a blanket Mayor smiled and closed her eyes once more.
> The blanket was an animal skin, but at that point Mayor didn't care anymore. It would keep her warm.

> ~~~~

> Mayor woke up briefly in the night when Willow came back, but the nomad just glanced at her and Rainy Day, then searched Intor's bags for a few animal skins and made himself a cot near the fire. He looked more sleepy than vengeful, but Mayor Mare kept her eye open until the hunter had settled down and drifted off.
> After that she slept without further interruptions until morning, when Gol stood up and brushed against her. Mayor stretched, pleased with how quickly the residual ache was fading from her limbs.
> Thanks to the effort of the past week or so she was becoming stronger than she had ever been in her life, even if it wasn't something she would have chosen to do voluntarily.

> She stood up and looked for Rainy Day. Her friend was awake, but she was still curled up and bundled in animal skins. Mayor walked over to check on her.
> It wasn't good. The pegasus was noticeably shivering and when Mayor pressed her muzzle against her she was burning up.
"This isn't good! Rainy Day?"
> Rainy Day focused briefly on Mayor, but then she returned her gaze to the fire as if wishing it were lit. "S-S-Soo c-cold!"
"Your fever is back. Dung! You need a proper doctor!"
> "There isn't one. I'll- I'll b-be fine."
> Mayor looked around for potential help, but Gol and Intor were discussing something quietly and Willow was still sleeping. She didn't want the hunter's help in any case. There was only one real choice.
> She folded up her own animal skin blanket as best she could and took it to the two females. They fell silent and watched her as Mayor approached.
"[Please, water?]"
> The mother said something and pointed a claw at where some of her bags were stacked on the ground. Gol went there and picked out a water skin. She untied the nozzle and cupped her paw for Mayor to drink, but the mare shook her head.
"[No.] Rainy Day?" she implored and pointed a hoof at her shivering friend.
> Gol understood and went to the poor pegasus. She repeated her trick with her paw, although she had to lay it almost on the ground to make it low enough for Rainy Day to reach with her muzzle.
> Around them the camp was waking up and Mayor Mare could see nomads dismantling their tents. Others were lighting or reviving fires and some were walking off into the plains. They didn't have bags so she guessed they were only going to relieve themselves.
> While Gol was watering her friend, Intor stood up and began gathering the things. She kept glancing at Mayor and Rainy Day, thinking hard about something. When she paused for a moment the mare spoke up:
> Once she had her attention she pointed a hoof at Rainy Day, then patted her own back as best she could reach.
"I'll carry her. Like the other day. Please?"
> She repeated her gesture a few more times, but couldn't tell whether the nomad understood or not. Her expression was neutral and difficult to read. She kept looking at Mayor for a bit longer, then she bent down and patted Willow on his cheek to wake him up.
> They exchanged a few words, then the hunter stumbled off for the nearby low bushes.
> Gol was apparently done with her mare patient and lifted what was left of the water skin to her own lips. Soon it was empty.
> Mayor wondered what she and Intor would drink, but Gol just went to pick up a few other empty water bags and headed off. She was probably going to fetch more water.

> Intor was saying something and when Mayor Mare looked up the old nomad was staring right at her and pointing at her retreating daughter. She made shooing motions with her other hand.
"You want me to follow her? Uh, what was it... [Mayor Mare Gol Water?"
> The nomad nodded to that: "Za! Za! Yavak!"
> She would get some water and she'd be able to relieve herself, so Mayor didn't argue and hurried after the younger female. She caught up pretty soon and fell in step beside her. Gol looked at her curiously, but didn't speak, nor did she pick up Mayor's rope and it simply dragged behind them.
> It wasn't particularly far and the two soon came to a babbling stream. Mayor looked up and down the direction of the water, but she couldn't see where it was coming from, nor where it was going.
> The water looked clean and some of the other nomads were already gathered around it to drink and, in rare cases, wash.
> The first order of business was to slake her thirst, so Mayor dunked her muzzle into the freezing cold water and filled her belly as best she could. It took the edge off her hunger, but it was a stopgap measure at best. Hopefully she and Rainy Day would have some time to graze before their walk started. Surely Intor and Gol and Willow would have some breakfast?
> After that she just waited while the young nomad dipped the skins into the stream one by one until they were full. Mayor saw they had a larger opening on the opposite side from the nozzle. Once they were filled, Gol dutifully tied them back up and stacked them on a pile.
> The rope she had used to tie their necks was longer and would allow Gol to hang the bags from her shoulders and arms. That would make it easier for her to carry that many. Mayor got an idea when she saw that and walked over to the pile of filled water skins.
> If she tied two of them together and made the rope very short, she could hang them across her back so they remained in balance. They weren't overly heavy and that way Gol wouldn't have to carry all of them.
> The young nomad exclaimed when she saw Mayor Mare fiddling with the bags, but when she saw the ones on her back she fell silent and simply stared in wonder.
> "[Thank you.]"
> She had understood that! Mayor smiled happily to herself. Her vocabulary was limited and her grammar was nonexistent, but she understood some things.
"[You're welcome.]"
> In the end Mayor Mare carried all the filled water skins and Gol simply walked beside her, lightly gripping her leading rope in her forepaw. Other than that simple pleasantry Mayor couldn't yet say anything more substantial, so they simply went in silence.

> They soon came back to Intor's fireplace, where the older female had packed their belongings into bags. She had even collected Rainy Day's blankets and the mare was standing on shaky legs with her head lowered.
"You okay?"
> "I'll- I'll m-manage."
"No you won't. Come on, get on my back. Maybe they'll understand I need to carry you today."
> Mayor had slipped most of the water skins to the ground near where Intor was preparing their pile, but she kept a couple. They weren't overly heavy and she could at least carry the water for herself and her friend, if she couldn't haul other things.
> She was feeling charitable now that the nomads had started actually talking to her, rather than just beating her like a beast of burden. Well, Intor and Gol had, Willow was still bad in that regard.
> Their best hope was to attach themselves to the older female for whatever protection that afforded them while Mayor learned enough of the language to convince the Chief to take them back.
> When Rainy Day didn't move fast enough Mayor went to her friend and crouched a little.
"Come, get on!"
> The pegasus opened her mouth to argue, but shut it when she couldn't come up with anything convincing. She managed to lift one foreleg over Mayor, but then had to stop for breath.
> Their fur, where it was pressed together, felt decidedly warm to Mayor and she began to worry. The fever was worse than ever.
"You need to eat."
> "I'm not hungry."
"Try anyway."
> Rainy Day was silent for a bit, then she said: "I n-need, um... I need to go."
"Me too. I'll carry you and we'll eat as much as we can."
> The only problem was explaining it to their nomad owners. Mayor cleared her throat and sought for words.
"Gol? Intor? [Go food water come.]" she tried.
> At their blank looks, she bent down and nibbled on a grass stalk, then pointed a hoof away from the camp.
"[Food. Go. Food. Come.]"
> Intor was the first to understand and she spoke rapidly to Gol. The younger nomad picked up Mayor's leading rope again and began to guide them out of the camp. Of course they weren't trusted to do it alone, but this suited Mayor just fine.
> "You- you're getting g-good with th-the language," Rainy Day commented.
"I don't have a choice. It's the only chance we got."
> She saw that the young nomad was taking them to a patch of thicker grass and Mayor's mouth began to water. She still needed to find a way to supplement their diet, but one problem at a time.
> First she needed to nurse her friend past her fever and her broken wing. Maybe Salki would understand and help her find something else to eat.
> Hopefully he would walk with them, or take her to his mother's tent once more to teach more of his language.
"Eat as much as you can," she told Rainy Day, "even if you're not hungry. We're gonna need it."

> She felt the other mare nod and crouched to let her slip off. Rainy Day was quite wobbly on her legs, but she locked her knees in place and lowered her head to pick at the coarse steppe grass.
> After seeing Rainy Day eat, Mayor bent down as well. A few moments later she heard the splashing of liquid and quickly guessed what it was.
> Weird how quickly shame was going away when it came down to survival. Mayor flattened her ears to shut the sound out, then lifted her own tail. Might as well get it over with.

There we go, more antics of the Mayor-Mare and the Rainy-Filly, two intrepid superheroes without any superpowers whatsoever, except stubbornness. Shut up, stubbornness is a super power!

Paste here: https://ponepaste.org/5389
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She bought a discount pone
how page 10?
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If he's looking short inspiration there's always the first date
>Coming up on 4 straight weeks of writers block and hating everything ive written
Fucking this. Why are we the way we are?
I'm starting to have troubles understanding all the cavespeak

Yep, that's why I'm starting to use English-translated cavespeak in square brackets. I don't intend to make readers learn a new language just to enjoy the green. I reckon adding new cave words is basically over at this point.
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Beware the tiny alicorns
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It happens.
Try writing about completely unrelated stuff that doesn't matter, just to get the wheels turning.
That used to help when I was at uni
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>written 16 lines
>so fucking tired
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>ywn drift off to sleep all warm and comfy while your cuddlepony reads to you
it hurts. a lot.
See, I have the issue of spewing a bunch of shit out on the page and it all being garbage that I hate.
>implying the 16 lines are not garbage that i hate
>ywn play with Chrysalis' face and annoy her
Close enough.
Mayor seems to not have any issues pronouncing new words.
>it clicked
Salki is a smart one.
>Oooh, she's your
And suddenly Mayor starts speaking which only she understands.
So they have gender specific words.
>dedicate all her mental effort on this one, single task
What about escaping?
>easier to learn new ones
The next one she should figure out is the what/question/substitute.
>bronze bracelets
Oh, so they figured out metalwork. That means possibly writing, and quite a few tools.
>hadn't yet reached whatever destination
Ohgod more walking.
>head was in Gol's lap
Heh. I wonder if it was forced or not.
>You're one to talk.
So it was not completely voluntarily.
Good! You can keep some simpler words without translation. Only a selected few, like yes/no and similar often used ones. If said alone.
>This isn't good!
It is not.
>I'll carry her.
Don't think there is any other option.
She used please previously in nomad language.
>water looked clean
Hopefully no one is urinating into it upstream.
>edge off her hunger
She hasn't eaten properly for a while now.
>some breakfast
Based on the fact that they have bronze, they should also have bread, cheese, honey, etc.
>lightly gripping her leading rope in her forepaw
So she did not do it on the way to the stream but did while walking back?
>rather than just beating her like a beast of burden
Only one beat her.
>she heard the splashing
God damn it, not where they eat!

I still can't put it anywhere that some of them treats them as animals and does not care at all, some just as smarter animals, and only Salki seems to treat them as conscious beings. Eg when it comes to food, they get the animal treatment.

Thanks for the update!
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Bug is for nonconsensual petting
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Master will forget everything after the usual bedfilly duties that night
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The time of ponies is now
Its hoomans turn to wear the saddle
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pony bath time
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21k letters by now.
Time to proof-read before it goes into printing.
The fuck are you writting anon?!
Chapter One.
You wanted green. You get green.
Rainy's fever is still giving me the willies bruh
More Scoots when?
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Beware the big alicorns too, but for very different reasons
CBT draws the asses so big.
Yeah, that would be a pretty nice bedfilly pic if she have better proportions.
Anyway, would totally enjoy give her some icecream
so, has there been anything similar to skittles since then?
A New Landscape, I'm fairly certain was written by the same anon, but about AJ
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>meanwhile, in vegaland
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Walkies please
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Nesting instinct or just really lazy?
Or being overly attached and she needs to surround herself with her master's smell.
god this part was hard
>spank pony so hard she passes out
>scream because holy shit did you just really is she okay!?
>turns out no, she was just so bored she fell asleep in your lap
>scream wakes her up
>pony blinks groggy eyes
>mumbles something
>"you're warm"
>pony snuggles and grins and goes back to sleep
>on your lap, of course
>well shit, now you can't stand up
>and you can't reach the remote
>your phone is over there
>can't even jack off
>pony is on your lap
>conveniently her brush is within reach
>what you were spanking her with, after all
>clever girl
>she planned this
>guess you have to give up
>and give brushies
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Sorry for the delay but stuff happened and I went over the whole thing 5 times and it is probably still shit but I did my best.
Hope you enjoy it.

Anyway this is the first chapter.

>You take a deep breath between the blurring of the siren.
>The setting summer sun dyes the houses in a warm orange.
>In the distance you can see your destination. The brick towers.
>Fifteen stories of dark orange and shadows with a few yellow light coming out of the apartments.
>As the vehicle hits another pothole you hear all the equipment being rocked back and forth.
>The shrill sound of the siren comes back to life.
"I hate this part of the city."
>"You need to let it go, man. Shit like that happens."
"Kicking a child of the balcony of the 8th floor, yeah shit like that happens."
>"Probably just a blackout drunk this time."
"When have they ever called us for some drunkard?"
"You know last time Andy and Mike were here they stole all the supplies out of the ambulance once they went inside?"
>"Look at the bright side," he says as you turn into the driveway, "just the third floor."
>The ambulance stops and both of you step out.
>You open the the side door and take out the scoop stretcher and your backpacks and head inside the building.
>Stale air fills your nostrils as you head inside the dimly lit gray hallway and up the dirty stairs.
>Even fewer lights than last time work and you hear the echo of laughter, shouting and crying of children through the staircase.
>You drag your heavy boots up the stairs and march down the corridor until you see an open door on your left.
>The apartment is dark, the only light coming from two of the rooms.
>You hear a man cursing.
>As you enter you take a quick look around. This place a mess. Trash bags are on the floor and there are beer cans and bottles everywhere. The ashtrays are filled to the brink. There is one rectangular spot in the kitchen which must have been cleaned moments ago.
"Probable D-Problem," you hiss backwards to your colleague.
>You follow the voice and notice that it is spanish.
"Sir, you called 911? What is the problem?"
>Before you is a young man wearing an undershirt and shorts, he has a below-knee prosthesis.
>He flails his arms and mutters some spanish and then points into another room.
>You head into the direction he points to and see a figure lying on the floor.
>Your feet carry you towards the person.
>It is a pony.
"We got one!"
>Your partner and you get on your knees next to the patient.
>The pony stinks of urine.
>"No blood here."
"Safe here."
>The guy in his underwear keeps on with his erratic ranting. You can make out the words "puta" and "demonio".
>You see the ponies chest rise and fall but check hair airways anyways.
"Air is good."
>Pushing your finger into the fur of her neck you feel for her pulse.
"Circulation is good."
>"Load her up?"
>You give the creature a good look and check for hidden injures. Oedema, hematoma, second degree burns.
>"You take the vitals, I talk to him."
>While your partner works on further diagnostics you get up and turn to the guy behind you.
Taking out your clipboard you ask "What happened?"
>"I dunno, man! I went to sleep and then I found her like this!"
>Behind him you see military memorabilia on the wall.
"You just found her like this after you woke up?"
>He babbles some more lies and curses as you take some notes.
>"What now?
"The pony is in serious but secure condition. We'll take her to central hospital. We'll give you a call once you can visit. Mr?"
>"San-", his eyes dart to the pony and then back to you, "Smith."
>Exhaling sharply through your nose you take down the last infos.
"Okay mister *Smith* please write down your phone number and sign on the dotted line."
>You hand him the clipboard.
>He signs and you and your partner scoop up the pony on the stretcher and carry it through the staircase down to the ambulance.
>"Lucky us, she is in stable condition!"
"Fuck off and get to driving, man."

>In the light of the ambulance you take a good look at the pony.
>A mare with a beige coat and blue hair with a green streak.
>Her butt stamp is an egg in a nest and a binoculars.
>She looks more like the loser of a bar brawl than an abuse victim.
>You clear a spot on her foreleg to place a venous access to fix her hydration.
>This is one of the worst things about ponies, you always have to shave off some of the coat to get some clean injection.
>Not that you have to deal with them a lot, most are either treated good or not worth the call.
>You check the IV and her vitals.
>Taking out your pocket flashlight you get to her face.
>As you push open the eyelid you feel her head move.
>Her green eyes try to focus you?
"You are safe here. Can you tell me your name?"
>"...tas," she says before she consciousness faints again.
>Well, good enough.
>You turn around to give the back of the drivers cabin some knocks and the motor roars to life.

>Be Anon, employee of the month at Friendly Williams's Pet Paradise
>Actually you didn't receive the title in quite some while since it is no longer handed out but you are the last one to ever receive it.
>Actually you are the only employee left, you aren't even a real employee but just a part-timer who works full-time for reasons you don't really understand yourself.
>Actually you don't sell pets, you sell slaves.
>And finally there is William.
>A fat jolly old boomer, the only hair on his round head of his being a gray mustache.
>Also a two-faced cunt. His favorite past time activities are exploitation and suing people, to relax from the long and tiring days of selling slaves.
>You started working here to cover your college tuition back when he was selling pets.
>Feels like ages ago.
>He kicked all the expensive workers out and talked you into "pitching in".
>Pitching in full time 5 days a week.
>And some weekends.
>Now you are in a video call with your fellow students.
>"So we had this exam and suddenly everything went dark."
>"And the fucking prof used that as an excuse to let me fail! Not that half the city suddenly went dark or anything..."
>>>"Prof Cupp?"
>"Yes, that cunt."
"Why go into education if you hate people?"
>>"So he ruin as many peoples lives as possible?"
>>>"85% failing rate, you might be on to something here."
>"Anyways he says that if it is not on paper it didn't happen so I need proof. Who cares if there is a giant anomaly tearing apart streets? Now I got to call the national guard or homeland security or the fucking marines or whomever is responsible to send me a fucking document that I had a fucking blackout on tuesday from 9:42 to 17:00!"
"Wow, dude! Glad I don't have to deal with this weirdo again."
>>>>"You know he fucked that bitch Stephany?"
"Imagine sinking so low. That guy is like 150 years old."
>"Should have died of a heart attack banging her..."
>>"If you can call that banging."
>The sound of the doorbell makes you look up from the screen.
"Gotta go guys, customer!"
>You close the the lid of your laptop and look up.
>Through the door stomps an angry middle aged man in T-shirt and shorts, there are scratches and bandaids in his face.
"Mr. ...Miller? How can I help you?"
>"I want my money back," he shouts as he drags something on a leash behind him.
>"Come here you little shit!", he yells behind him and yanks of the leash with all his might.
>In falls a very familiar face.
You raise a hand and wave, "Hi, Gilda. Back so soon?"
>She raises her head from the ground to look at you.
>A black eye and much less feathers than when she left three days ago.
>"Shut up, dweeb."
>"My! Money!"
>He gives the leash a strong yank for emphasis.
>"I want it back!"
"I am sorry to inform you that Friendly Williams's Pet Paradise does no refunds on discount merchandise."
>You hear both Gilda and Mr. Miller both groan.
>"But I paid 175$ for this thing!"
>You take a look at his angry and messed up face.
>Fucking hell...
>You take a deep breath.
"As goodwill of the company I can offer you an annulment of the contract."
>"YES! Take this damn harpy back!"
>You open satans drawer, take out the paper and hold it in front of him.
"Please read the paper *carefully*, put in your name, account data and sign on the dotted line."
>He whips the paper out of you hand and signs it.
>"Done! Money!"
>You take paper and step back a step.
"We will calculate the fees and send you the rest with a couple of days."
>With his mouth hanging agape he looks at you.
"You have damaged the merchandise (Gilda groans in the background), and the company insists on compensation."
>"You, YOU!"
>The leash comes flying.
>God, you hate this fucking job.
>"FUCK YOU! YOU'LL HEAR FROM MY LAWYER!" he shouts as he rushes out.
"*Friendly* William will get me killed one day."
>"Sure hope so," Gilda says.
>You sigh.
"Shit like this makes me wonder if business administration was a good choice."
>"Poor you, selling slaves must be such a hard job."
>You walk around the counter and take the leash of the big bird.
"Three days is a new record. What happened?"
>"He asked me to entertain his spawns and I told him to bite me."
>"He asked me if I could catch the mice in his yard."
>You smirk at her.
>"I told him to climb a tree and bring me some bananas."
>She looks down and touches her black eye.
>"Might have kicked the shed he was building a little."
"That's the Gilda I know."
>Both of you look at the ground for a moment.
"Guess it is back to being a shelf warmer. You want some ice-packs?"
>She looks away.
>"Yes... dweeb."
>You let the leash sink to the floor and and get to the back to get some ice-packs and two cups of coffee, yours black and one with sugar for G.
>When you return you find Gilda resting her back against the front of the counter.
>You sit down next to her and hand her both the pack and the coffee.
>"Coffee day?"
>You take a sip
"Kinda is."
>She takes a sip and presses the pack against her black eye.
>"Kinda is" - she takes a sip - "Where is the fat potato?"
"Dunno, seal clubbing for some relaxation or some business thing maybe. Something about an acquisition but I'm the last to know."
>"You're the only one to know, dumbass."
>Can't help but chuckle.
"Actually I get most of my info from customers, delivery guys or other businesses."
>You take a look at the big cat-bird carefully sipping her coffee.
"Hey, that collar..."
>"Pretty isn't it?"
"That's not the one you left with."
>"You sure know your merchandise."
"Hold still", you say as you reach for her neck.
>"HEY! If I spill my coffee I'll spill it on you!"
"Yes, yes."
>You work your finger between her messy neck feathers and gently pull on the shiny object.
>A prong collar comes to light.
>Between the feathers you see hints of red.
"Should have taken his eyes."
>You unclip the leash and remove the collar.
"You're welcome."
>Gildas head moves up and down, barely noticeable.
>Both of you enjoy your coffee slouched against the front of the counter for a minute.
"Hey Gilda, I thought of something."
>"Wonders do happen."
"We need to make you really expensive, like a hundred grand."
>"If you sell me for a million he will still give you 8 bucks an hour."
>You wave your hand.
"See some of the guys at my college are sons and daughters by profession."
>Gilda groans.
"Do you know how I treat my car?"
>A confused catbird stares at you.
"I treat my car like trash. I don't give a fuck. But they! If you just lean on their car they go crazy! The are like /oh noo you can't lean on my car because dust particles and fibres will leave tiny scratches in the coating!/"
>"So if you make me expensive I'll get treated better?"
"I hope so."
>Bird-girl sets down the cup of coffee, "sorry to burst your bubble", she says as she gives you a slight punch on the shoulder.
>"Rich people just parade you around and lock you away when you're not needed. Honestly I prefer the cages here."
"You have been around, huh?"
>"Please shut up and let me have this moment."
>She closes her eyes and rest her head against your shoulder.
>"You know the one redeeming factor about your species is how weak and soft you are."
"Thanks, G. I love you too."
>"Shut it."
>Well she had a rough day.
>On the other hand...
"You know your only redeeming factor is that you look kinda cute when you shut your beak."
>She pulls her head away and gets her hackles up.
>Got her good.
>You try to press your weight away from her as the and avian tries to pegs your arm.
>You flinch as her attacks hit.
>"I. *peg* Told. *peg* You. *peg* To. *peg* Shut. *peg* Up!"
>>"What's going on here!?"
>Ohh fuck!
"Mr William, Sir!"
>You stare down at Gilda, mouthing a 'shut up' and face fat Will.
>He slowly waddles past you.
>>"Lock it up and see me in my office."
"Alright, sir, I will bring /her/ to the back."
>He leaves the room without giving you another look.
"You heard the man, Gilda."
>"Yeah it is clearly him that is the man, dweeb."
>Taking the cup and the collar into your hands you sit up.
>She is still sitting on the floor.
>Fuck it.
>You walk to the entrance, lock it up and walk past birdcat.
"I'll check what he wants."
>You set your cup on the counter and leave the room.

>Just past the broom closet you knock on the office door and enter the room.
>"How do I start?"
>You know exactly how you are gonna start.
>"When you came here I gave you a chance," he rests his head on his hands, "I wanted to show you the ropes."
>So stagy.
>"But this display..."
>"You are supposed to sell the goods and not play with them."
>"Sales have been going down. And now that chimera is back. Why is it back?"
"Mr. Miller returned her earlier."
>"No refu-"
"We annulled the contract."
>"He damaged /it/?"
"That is why I gave her an icepack."
>His hand brushes through his mustache.
>"You took photos?"
>"Of the damage."
>Fuuuuuuck. He got you by the balls.
>"This is what I am talking about. The first thing you do is documentation and ice-packs aren't free, neither is coffee."
"It is my coffee."
>"Is it your water and your electricity?"
>He presses himself back into his leather chair.
>"I wasted enough money feeding this creature."
>He just looks at you and you scratch the back of your neck.
"Mr. Miller said you are going to hear from his lawyer."
>He takes out a small camera from one of his drawers and puts it on the desk.
>"The photos. I'm going to have a friend assess the damage."
>One mail to one of his doctor buddies and 175$.
>You step forward and take the camera.
"And Anon, please clean up the place we are closing early today. Unlike you I have been busy."
>When was the last time he sold anything? You run this goddamn store!
>You take a long deep breath.
>"You can go once you are done and please come in early tomorrow, you got an errand to run."
>You look at the clock on the wall.
>It is one hour until you close normally. The means you'll be home 30 early.
>Unusually generous of him.
>"You are a good kid, Anon. I know you can do better."
>Oh come on.
"I'll take the photos then."
>"Thank you", he says as he turns back to the his computer.
>You turn around and leave his office.
>Then you check your watch.
>You get behind the display cases and open the latches.
"Alright girls, day is over!"
>The ponies wander out of the displays one by one and start eagerly chatting with each other.
>Some of them look at you and giggle.
>A group of ponies assembles behind you and you lead them to the old lunch room.
>Since there are no more employees that use it it is now some kind of recreation room for the ponies with a TV that shows the human-equestrian-friendship channel non-stop.
>10 hours a day there are pictures of happy groups of humans and ponies and success stories of them working together.
>The recreation room is five by five yards with barred windows, a sink, some furniture and a bare minimum of things to keep them somewhat occupied.
>Note to self: Get new paper and crayons.
>Gilda is already sitting on the couch and the ponies swarm her, asking her how she is and how she was, there laughter and giggles and hugs.
>Guess ponies can even turn griffons to social creatures.
>You turn off the television and the whole gang looks at you.
"Were closing early today so have a nice evening, girls."
>"What is going on?"
"I have no fucking idea."
>"But it's so early!"
"You can just play some board games."
>>"That's boring! Silky Rose wins all the time!"
>>>"I just read the rules!"
>>>>"Bet you cheat!"
>>>"Do not!"
>>>>"Do too!"
"Girls! Girls! Listen I have an appointment tomorrow so just do me a solid here. I'll take you out this weekend okay?"
>There are some "YAY"s to be heard.
>You take out the camera and get over to Gilda on the couch.
"Hey Beak, time for a photoshooting."
>The big ball of fur and feathers groans at you.
"Hey, it's no big deal just one two pictures and we're done."
>She groans again.
"Look at the bright side, we do this to make Mr. Miller pay."
>You see her eyes dart to the top left.
>"Let's get it over with, dweeb."
>You take two pictures of her full size, then a couple of her black eye, the bruised spots.
>Pushing your fingers between the featers of her neck she bark "hurry up, creep."
>She clenches her beak shut and her eyes are locked on a spot on the ceiling.
>You take a picture of the pressure marks and comb the feathers back down.
"Good girl."
>She whips her tail at you and turns back to the couch without another word.
>You wish your ponies a nice evening and turn around to leave the room and lock it up.
>Your feet carry you to the sales room and you start cleaning up.
>Gilda's collar is still on the ground but her cup is on the counter next to yours.
>You put the collar in the drawer of the counter and continue to sweep the floor.
"Fuck this job," you say to yourself.

>You find yourself on some dirt road in the middle of nowhere.
>William gave you a satnav, an adress, exactly 23 dollar and 57 cents for gasoline, a letter and told you to go.
>Somewhere in the boonies is someone you are suposed to meet to do something.
>First it was interstates than highway and now a road that is barely a road.
>It is still quite early but you can already feel the air heating up.
>Traffic was almost dead when you were on the highway.
>But now you haven't seen a car in half an hour.
>Every direction you look is only dried brown gras or sand as far as the eye can see.
>No sign of an anomaly or a city or anything.
>After one and a half hours you finally pass a little village and take a right down a fenced dirt road with power poles with on the right and something that could be buildings in the distance.
>30 minutes early and in the middle of absolutely nowhere and satnav tells you you reached your destinastion so you stop the car to take a piss and take a look around.
>You take one of the of the old cigaretes out of the pack in the glovebox and the bottled water out of the car.
>The aging makes them rough on the throat.
>Usually you only smoke on parties or before exams but this irks you.
>The late summer sun starts to burn on your neck.
>Why drive all the way here?
>What errand could bring you here?
>Bet some hillbilly catched some runaways and is selling them on craigs list for a bottle of whiskey and a porn mag.
>You turn around and try to make anything out in the distance.
>Absolutely nothing but one dot on the horizon and the fence and the poles.
>Whatever William came up with can't be good.
>You press out your stub and get back into the car.
>Five minutes down the path you see some figures next to the fence in the distance.
>There are some fucking ponies tied to the fucking fence in fuck-nowhere.
>You hold next to them and lower your window.
"Hey! You allright?"
>They don't react.
>They just stand there. With heads hanging tied to the fucking fence.
"What the? Hey you! Ponies!"
>No reaction.
"I'm talking to you!"
>What the the fuck?
"Do you need help? Are you allright?"
>Both of them swish their tail.
>You have been around ponies long enough to get this.
"I am looking for some Robert. Is this the right way?"
>One of them tilts his head down the road.
>Pushing down the gas pedal the car start to accelerate but you stop again.
>You step out of the car with the water bottle in hand and head to the fence.
>Taking a look left and right down the road you screw off the cap and place the bottle on the ground.
"Hide the bottle later."
>The ponies look up at you without moving their heads.
>Ponies like these don't trust people anymore.
>You get back into your car and start to drive away slowly.
>In the rear-view mirror you can see one of them look after you and the other one starting to drink.
>You have been around traumatized equestrians but never met the ones who did the traumatizing.
>They ponies were delivered, you took care of them and you sold them.
>You sabotaged negotiations if the buyer looked kinda off.
>Now you are going into the belly of the beast.
>A couple of minutes and some mind cinema down the road there is a large tree bole on the right side of the road and behind that some open space and a man leaning against the fence.
>Behind him are some wooden buildings.
>Little house on the prairie with a power pole.
>One of the buildings houses some tractor or harvester or something.
>You are not a farmer.
>The guy is of medium build. Jeans, gray T-shirt, cowboy-hat.
>You stop the engine.
>The man pushes himself off the fence.
>You take letter and take a deep breath before getting out of the car.
>The loud choppy barks of dogs come from somewhere behind the house.
>A warm gravely voice shouts "Howdy! You must be Anon."
>Brown hair, brown eyes, sun-tanned skin and a short mustache and a revolver in a holster belt.
"You are, Robert, right?"
>He walks over to you and extends his hand.
>You look at it.
>You shake his hand.
>He is strong. Stronger than he looks.
>"Sorry for dragging you out here but there is no signal and lines have been dead for days."
>If he is the devil he is a charming one.
"No problem"- you hand him the letter -"this is for you."
>He takes it, opens the envelope and starts to read.
>Taking a look around you spy a few ponies walking in the distance.
>Dirty coats and hanging heads.
"So what are you doing here?"
>"Boring old farmwork but the food has to come from somewhere, right?"
"You and your family?"
>"Me, the machines and the ponies."
>Lone man on a farm with ponies! Red flag!
>"Lots of work to do."
"And too few hands to do it?"
>He looks up from the papers.
>Then he looks back down back at the paper.
>"A griffon? 250 dollar?"
>"Hard to manage..."
"They are *hard* to manage."
>"I'll have to break it in then."
>You harrumpf loudly.
"What if it doesn't work?"
>"I have my ways," he smirks.
"I see."
>"Worst case there are some guys I know. I'll make my 250 dollars back no matter what happens."
>He puts down the paper and smiles at you.
>"Im fine with the deal. Twenty five hundred for the four ponies and one griffon."
>You put on you best smile and stick out your hand.
"When can we deliver?"
>"Every day after 6 pm."
"I'll relay the message."
>He grabs your hand shakes it.
"I'll be off then."
>"Allright, gotta go back to work so you city-slickers won't starve," he says with a smile.
>You force some laughter.
"Allright, have a *wonderful day*!"
>"You too, partner."
>You get back to your car and head to drive down the dirt road.
>You see him waving and you wave back.
>As you drive back you see white dots on the backside of the bole you passed on your way in.
>Looks like...
>Are those bones?
>Not just bones.
>There are also two skulls attached to the back of the bole.
>You slow done.
>You are no biologist but one of these skulls is awfully small for a horse or a bull.
>Why do those bones face inwards to the farm and not outwards to the road?
>Your foot pushes down the pedal.
"That fat fuck..."
>Back in civilization you cough and march your way into the shop after smoking the whole rest of the pack on the way back.
>"Anon, you are back. How did it go?"
"Shit! Absolutelely shit!"
>William stares at you from behind the counter.
>"Lock the door, we will speak in my office."
>Looking around you see all the ponies watching you from their displays.
>With a too familiar move you lock the door behind your back and follow him.
>He sits down in his chair and places the arms flat on the table.
>"So? What got you so agitated?"
"First of all why do you send me away for like 6 damn hours to deliver a stupid letter? There are things like a telephones or mail you know?"
>"Lines are mostly dead and mail takes days at best nowadays."
"We are not selling him ponies!"
>He leans back.
"Because he mistreasts them!"
>"We will not tell our customers how to handle their property."
"He *breaks* them in!"
>"Did you see him do any crimes? Ponies are protected under the human-equestrian-partnership-act. If he is doing something illegal you should call the police."
"There was a pony skull!"
>"Are you a doctor?"
"Are you kidding me?! I know a damn pony skull when I see it! I'm not doing it!"
>"Listen, Anon, sales are going down and if you don't sell these ponies I have to."
"Are you doing this on fucking purpose?!"
>"Hey," he scowls at you, "watch your tone."
>You take a deep breath.
"Fine! I'll get the ponies sold somehow but not there. He'll hurt them."
>"I'm still gonna send him the griffon."
"You can't! He'll kill her or worse!"
>"I want it gone. I don't care how or where."
>You press both your hands in your face.
"I'll take her instead."
>"Three hundred fifty dollars."
>You stare at him blank faced.
"It was 175 for Miller, 250 for that guy and 350 for me?"
>"Opportunity cost, I am losing a customer if we don't deliver."
"You're kidding me, right?"
>You force yourself to shake his extended hand.
>"Take the rest of the day off."
"I will."
>You leave his office and open Gildas display case.
"Were going."
Cool so far, im already invested.
also, you repeated the post.
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Page 10 bump
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Some ponies can be very skittish.
Treat them gently and give them space.
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At least marble finally got someone, she only need to be a good girl and master will be her husband in no time
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The master's son got a cuddlepony for his birthday.
But they can't cuddle on page 10!
sorry for that but autism striked and i had to fix like a thousand small mistakes and errors
also glad you like it
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Why not all three?
The legal hellscape that human-pony hybrids would bring would be legendary
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I like the bracelet idea, though an rfid implant would work too.
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Remember to have your existing ponies train new acquisitions. It's efficient.
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Pone is for petting
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With respects to Danny Elfman, "This is /spg/", sung to the tune of "This is Halloween".

Mares and stallions far and wide,
Wouldn't you hate to be collared and tied?
Come with us and you will see,
This our land of /spg/!

This is /spg/, this is /spg/,
Ponies scream in at the whip's sharp crack,
This is /spg/, put one 'cross your knee,
Collar 'em, chain 'em, crop 'em on the back!
It's our land, nopony's free,
In this land of /spg/!

I am the one stalking free mares,
Loaded down with traps, nets, and snares!
I am the one chasing runaways,
Never giving up through all their days!

This is /spg/, this is /spg/!
/spg/, /spg/!
(/spg/, /spg/!)

In this land we call home,
Everypony bows at Master's feet,
In this land, don't we love it now,
Everyone's tugging on their pony's leash.

Waiting for you at home, stretched out on the bed,
Ready for him to pin her down and moan!
This is /spg/, whips and chains, cuffs and straps,
Ready for some fun? All the time!

Say it once, say it twice,
Buy a mare who winks real nice,
Ride her hard 'till she's lost her fight,
Everypony scream, everypony scream!
In our land of /spg/...!

I am the one who wraps them up in tack,
Bridles, panties, silks, harness on their back!
I am the pony shackled in your bed,
I am the mare curled up under your head,
I am the one with the thick lush coat,
Fingers on my belly and collar on my throat

This is /spg/, this is /spg/!
/spg/, /spg/!
/spg/, /spg!
(/spg/, /spg/!)

Tender rumps who don't want pain,
Best not fight or he'll get the cane!
That's your lot, 'cause you're not free,
In this land of /spg/!
In this land, don't we love it now!
Everyone's waiting to break one in!

Master, Master, give me a tender bath,
Wet me down, soap me up,
Don't forget beneath my tail

This is /spg/, everpony scream!
Won't you please give in and take your collar well!
They own all of us, we all know our place,
Everypony snug your owner tight now!

This is /spg/, this is /spg/!
/spg/, /spg/!
(/spg/, /spg/!)

In this land, we call home,
Everypony bows at Master's feet.
I can hear it.
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Bay Breeze is such an absolute sweetheart and I would spoil her rotten without a second thought.
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Next-level adorable.
Bootleg unicorns don't care about pride
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RIP buggo
The propeller never rests
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>13 lines in 2 hours
Feeling depressed makes you a better writer is a shitty meme.
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Most restaurants started offering a menu with pony-friendly food.
Some ponies don't care.
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I promise i'll post soonish
I finally got myself enough out of a rut to get enough to post
I just have to edit!
but dont rush yourself for my sake
id rather you like your story even if i have to wait a little longer
>Most restaurants started offering a menu with pony-friendly food.
uh huh. that menu is just some of the same shit they always had plus a couple minimally modified entriese all at a marked up price
it's exactly the same as when [brand] puts out vague, insubstantial shit to support some sjw cause or try placating rioting niggers again. minimal investment advertising for an ez markup against stupid consoomers
twiggles is one of the smart ones because she still gives zero fucks and eats big borgar like a true american
I was talking about food that swaps meat for hay and has a lot of sugar in it, don't be a twitterfag about it.
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why would a business spend money on new food supplies, new food preparation training, and potentially new staff entirely when they could just scribble "4 poniez" on a few already existing menu items, mark them up and achieve the same goal of attracting new pony customers for minimal investment in time and money?
You have a very cynical worldview, anon.
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where is the snowpity on the graft?
i don't like being right, anon. why do you think I come here to a place where 'friendship is magic' is the modus operandi instead of 'survival of the fittest' and has cute technicolor equines?
Not pictured. The alicornification process involves atrophy of the snowpity in addition to its many other physiological changes.
Poner is acting strange, wiggles and squeaks when you give her bellyrubs.
What do?

> Though the journey was not exactly pleasant, it was still better than Mayor Mare had feared. She was recovering well and after the first few minutes her muscle ache had gone away. Rainy Day wasn't too heavy to carry, so the day ended up being a pleasant stroll rather than the forced march she had been anticipating.
> Most importantly, Willow was nowhere to be seen, which had caused Intor to grumble and complain while she loaded up Gol and Salki with their belongings. At least Mayor assumed that was what the female had been muttering about. She hadn't recognized any of the words.
> The long snake of nomads wound through the flat and featureless terrain and more than once Mayor wondered what could be so important to drive these people on such a journey. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but grass with an occasional bush or spindly tree. Behind them she could just barely see the hills where they had come from.
> She kept looking back often and those slight, blurry bumps on the distant horizon felt like her only connection back to Equestria. The portal was somewhere in those hills, her home and her friends and everything she had ever known.
> Mayor Mare felt that if she lost sight of that place, that when the hills vanished from her sight, her link to home would be severed and she would truly be lost. Her heart yearned above all to head back there, but even if she could have escaped again, she didn't dare.
> Not after the last time.
> All the mare could do was look into the distance, strain her eyes against the blur, and promise herself, silently, that she would somehow return.
> Another day, perhaps, she estimated, and the horizon behind them would be just as flat as in front. She had to fight back tears at the thought.
> Were her friends looking for her? Was there a search?
> Even if they guessed she had been taken into Everfree there was very little chance anypony would find the passage into this strange world. Even if they did, there would be no way to find her in all this vast, empty landscape.
> Perhaps her friends had already given up? Would the citizens of Ponyville soon chose a new mayor? She couldn't blame them and the town needed leadership, but the knowledge still stung.
> Being taken away by the nomads felt almost like death, except it was slower.
> Mayor shook her head to try and dislodge those thoughts and forced herself to listen to Salki. He had really begun teaching her the language and he pointed out everything around them and named it.
> She repeated the words after him, but without a way to write them down Mayor was certain she was forgetting most of them. That was okay if a few important ones stuck. Luckily Salki didn't mind repeating himself when she asked.

> Mayor lifted her head and brushed her muzzle against Rainy Day's ear. The mare had been silent most of the day and Mayor hoped she was sleeping. She felt very warm and after her asking him several, times Salki had understood and gotten her one of the animal skins to cover the pegasus up.
> That made Mayor too hot and sweat tickled down her legs, but she didn't care about the discomfort. Rainy Day couldn't die! Not on her watch!
> The wing looked like it was starting to heal, or at least that's what Mayor had guessed from Intor's expression when the lady had examined her friend. If she could push past the fever she would be- Mayor caught her thought and corrected it: she would live.
> She had been about to say Rainy Day would be fine, but of course that was a lie. Neither of them would be fine and the pegasus least of all. She would likely never fly again, even if they got back to Equestria.
> Outward Mayor feigned hope, said that the new medicinal magic could do remarkable things these days, but a wing which had been broken, set improperly, and infected this badly, didn't bode well.
> That knowledge, of the other mare losing such an important part of herself, piled on top of everything else...
> Mayor paused for a moment and lifted her foreleg so she could wipe away the tears with her fetlock. Salki noticed and stopped talking for which she was grateful. Sometimes it almost felt as if he understood that they didn't belong in his world.
> Gol also glanced back, but Mayor resumed walking and the young nomad filly didn't give her a second glance. She was apparently deep in discussion with her mother. Was 'filly' the right word there? Gol wasn't a pony.
> They had barely taken a few steps when Mayor's stomach growled quite loudly. She had been determined to ignore her hunger, but her body disagreed.
> The efforts of the past few days, of the past week, were taking their toll. Already the gnawing hunger was an almost physical pain deep in her belly. She was losing weight and grass wasn't cutting it.
> She would have to do something about it. There was no time to cry. There were problems to be solved.
> The youth gave her an inquiring look.
"[Food, eat.]"
> She would have to guide him to the right question because she didn't know enough words yet to ask it directly.
> The nomad cocked his head to one side, then said: "Meyermer, [eat grass]." He said some other things, but Mayor didn't understand those words.
> He thought for a moment and then tried something simpler: "[Stop. Sleep. Eat grass.]"
> She understood. He was telling her they would stop soon and then she could feed.
"[No eat grass. Eat. No grass.]"
> He seemed confused and bent down to tear off a few blades of the coarse steppe foliage. "[Pony eat grass.]"

> Mayor nodded with patience she didn't really feel, but had no choice. She couldn't alienate perhaps the closest thing she had to a friend in this place.
"[Yes, pony eat grass. Mayor Mare, Rainy Day no eat grass.]"
> He looked down at the bit of green in his paw and then back at the mare. He was thinking hard, trying to work out what she wanted to say and Mayor searched her memory for anything that might help. She didn't know enough words! Enough concepts. Nouns were easy, but how do you learn a word like 'other'?
> Perhaps if she brought up some examples?
"[Salki eat no grass?]"
> He chuckled at the notion, but nodded. "[Yes, Salki eat meat. Pony no eat meat.]"
> It was a step in the right direction and Mayor picked her words carefully.
"[Good. Salki eat meat. Salki eat no grass. Salki eat water. Salki eat...?]"
> She raised the inflection on that last to leave it as an open question. He was thinking hard and Mayor dared to hope.
> Eventually, hesitating, Salki said a new word.
> The youth was at a loss. He tried explaining it in other terms and waved his forelegs expansively, but Mayor could get nothing useful out of his performance.
"[Sorry,]" she said and shook her head.
> In the end, Salki growled in frustration and gave up. He told her: "[Night. Rest. Meyermer see night.]"
> He would show her when they stopped. Apparently it wasn't something he could demonstrate or find while they were moving.
> Mayor decided she would be hopeful. She had been asking him about food and he said something new, something she hadn't seen among the nomads so far. Maybe it would be something she and Rainy Day could eat.
> Their only other option would be to try and digest meat.
> It was horrific, monstrous to even consider, but it might be their only way. It would probably play Tartarus on their insides, but perhaps they could get some salt and some minerals from it, especially the dry stuff she had seen nomads eat.
> Some pegasi liked an occasional fish, after all. Maybe it could also work for an earth pony.
> Even if that did work, they'd still have to stuff themselves silly with grass to get enough energy, and Mayor hoped they would be able to do that once the nomads stopped and camped again.
> Whatever it took to survive, she promised herself. Even if she had to eat meat out of sheer desperation.
> Maybe in spring and summer there would be berries or some primitive, uncultivated types of vegetables. Maybe if she taught the nomads how to grow food they'd be grateful?
> She sighed and continued plodding along. The sun was well on its way down so she thought they would be stopping soon.
> "Huh? Where are we?" Rainy Day suddenly asked from Mayor Mare's back.
"Not much further. How are you feeling?"

> The other mare groaned. "Like manure, but I'll live. Everything hurts, but I think my fever is better. Do you think I could get some water?"
> At least that much Mayor knew how to ask.
"[Salki? Rainy Day water please?]"
> He smiled at them and came closer. She was carrying their own water, but she needed his clever forepaws to manipulate the bag and trickle some of the precious liquid into their muzzles.
> They stood still during this procedure and Gol quickly felt the rope go taut. She also stopped and then crouched down to rest. Intor said something, but the young female told her to go on and they would catch up.
"[Mayor Mare, water, please.]" she asked for herself as well.
> If there was any left. Perhaps the next day Mayor should see if Intor and Gol would let her have three or four water skins.

> ~~~~

> Once again Salki had led Mayor to the tent with his mother. Perhaps it was a status symbol or something to set it up each time, the mare thought. She hadn't complained, however, not when the pleasant warmth from the fire inside drove away the chill which was already settling in.
> The evening had started like the previous one, but Mayor remembered her question and the young nomad's promise. Before he could begin teaching her new words she placed a hoof on his knee and reminded him:
"[Salki. Food, not grass, not meat?]"
> He brightened up and jabbered something Mayor couldn't quite catch. Luckily he wasn't expecting a reply, because the youth went over to the corner of the tent and began to rummage in the bags there.
> After a while he asked his mother something and she murmured back a reply, though her eyes never left Mayor. That seemed to help and Salki came back with a couple of objects in his forepaws.
> He held them out to the mare and she gasped in delight.
"Yes! That's exactly what I needed! [Thank you!]" she trilled.
> Immediately she pointed a hoof at one of them.
"That's a yam! What did you call it?"
> He gave her the word. Mayor couldn't remember if it was the same one from earlier, but she closed her eyes and repeated it to herself several times to make sure she wouldn't forget.
"[Mayor Mare, Rainy Day eat yam. Thank you!]"
> Instead of replying, Salki pushed that paw forward and bumped the vegetable to her nose. She blinked in surprise.
"Oh, you mean now? Um, sure."
> She knew that some types of yam could be eaten raw, so Mayor took the tuber in her mouth and bit down. It wasn't bitter so it was probably safe, if her half-remembered filly scouts days were to be believed. Salki was left with about half of it.
> As the mare crunched she looked at the other thing Salki held. It was another type of roots, but this one Mayor didn't recognize. She pointed a hoof and swallowed her current mouthful.

> Again it was a new word and Mayor did her best to remember it, even though she wasn't quite as excited about this one. The nomads had *yams*, which meant she and Rainy could fill out their diet and maybe not die of malnourishment. If this other thing was also edible by ponies that would be even better.
> She didn't know what kind of a plant it was and even if nomads could eat it, that wasn't a guarantee that ponies could as well. They were different enough when it came to diet. Meat and grass were just two examples where they were incompatible.
> Since there was no easy way of identifying what those roots were, Mayor decided to simply call them 'roots' until she knew better. She had the nomad word for it, but she still wanted an Equestrian one, even if it was just a stopgap.
"[Salki eat roots?]"
> The young nomad nodded and demonstrated by biting off a bit of the vegetable, then he held it out to her again.
> It had a sharp, vaguely familiar scent now that it was freshly broken. She thought it might be okay, so she carefully nibbled on the offered morsel.
> The root tasted good and Mayor relaxed. It was probably fine, but she limited herself to that small bite only. If she didn't feel ill in the next few hours she would consider both these new foodstuffs good.
> Now if only she could ask Salki where the nomads found those. They both looked wild, which made sense since the people didn't seem inclined to farm.
> She tried to gather up the words which would explain what she wanted.
"Hmm. Salki? [Mayor Mare, help, go, yam.]" she told him and pointed at the vegetable. "[Help yam] okay?"
> Maybe he understood, or maybe he didn't, but Mayor had no way of telling. She didn't catch any of his reply and sighed internally. There was still much for her to learn before she could effectively communicate.
> If Salki didn't understand that she wanted to help the people gather these vegetables, she would try to tell him again the next day.
> For the moment she had more words to learn which, incidentally, would help her in that task.
> Her mind was already working furiously. It was time to work on some basic questions. Maybe if she obviously hid an item, then pretended to look for it while asking Salki about it he would give her the word for 'where'. That would be a useful start and could lead them to 'who'.
> It was worth a shot!

> ~~~~

> By the time Mayor Mare returned to Intor's campfire the family was already asleep. The fire had nearly burned down and only a few small flames lit the scene.
> Intor had a cot of her own and Willow was lying a short distance away, as if he wasn't particularly happy to be a part of that group.

> She didn't see Rainy Day at first, but the bundle on Gol's cot was too large to be just the filly herself. Perhaps her friend was still huddling with Gol for warmth.
> Maybe he was at about the age when nomad children left their parents and moved in with their mates? That female she had seen with him sometimes could certainly be his special somepony.
> Mayor wondered if nomads married.
> More importantly, would Willow claim her and Rainy Day as his ponies when he left? They probably didn't have much choice, but Mayor would much prefer to stay with Intor and Gol. The females seemed reasonable and she felt a lot safer with them.
> She would have to make herself useful to Intor and maybe the old female would overrule whatever Willow might want to do.
> Another problem for another day, Mayor thought sadly. There were already too many problems, so one more hardly made a difference. She looked for a place to sleep, but there didn't seem to be any extra blankets set out for her.
> There was nothing for it. She would have to wake up either Intor or Gol and ask about it. Of the two, she preferred to bother the younger nomad, so Mayor walked over and stopped to stare at the sight.
> Gol was sleeping on her side, but there was a large bulge under the skin blankets in front of her. That was Rainy Day, who had her muzzle pressed against the nomad filly's barrel.
> One of Gol's forelegs was wrapped around the mare, Mayor could just see it under the blanket in the dying firelight.
> The scene was almost cute. Mayor had to remind herself that these people had foalnapped them and dragged them to this world. They wanted them to work, like slaves. Like those vacant-eyed donkeys. They probably wouldn't have hesitated to slaughter and eat the mares, if their fancy took them that way.
> Maybe not now when Mayor was proving to them that she could speak, but only a few days ago she wouldn't have thought it past even Intor to simply slit Rainy Day's throat for being too much trouble with her broken wing.
> The nomads were their captors.
> Still, Gol was young. She hadn't hurt the two mares. For that matter, neither had Intor, not really.
> Yes, she expected them to work, but Mayor had seen first-hoof that life in this world was tough and brutal. She and Rainy Day would never make it on their own. The nomads only survived because they had become as hard as the land around them.
> So far Willow had been the worst of them. Maybe she should give the others the benefit of the doubt?
> Mayor closed her eyes and let out her breath. She let her ears fold down as she deliberately followed the thought. Gol cuddling with Rainy Day for warmth was cute.

> She could be angry with Willow for taking them, for beating her. She could resent the people in general for enslaving them. All of that could be true and Gol could still be cute, wrapped up in those skins with Rainy Day.
> More importantly, the mare had to keep warm to recover from her fever, so that was another reason for Mayor Mare to accept it. Although it being cute was a pretty solid reason in itself.
> It was almost a shame to disturb them, but she nudged the nomad with a hoof.
"Gol? Gol."
> The female opened her eyes and stared at Mayor in a mix of surprise and curiosity.
"[Skin, please?]"
> She understood and sat up. The sudden loss of warmth made Rainy Day whine, but she didn't wake up. A hoof reached out, seeking for the nomad, but Gol slipped away and stretched. She said something to Mayor in a whisper and went over to where Intor was sleeping.
> A quick search left Gol empty-pawed and she turned back to Mayor. Once again her words were unknown to the mare, but the nomad pointed her claw to her brother. That, combined with the slightly annoyed look in her face was plain enough.
> Willow had taken the last of their skins. Mayor sighed in disappointment and sat down near the fire. Perhaps she could fall asleep while there was still some heat coming from the embers.
> It seemed as if Gol had a different idea. She went back to her own cot and slid between the animal skins, but then she spoke again. "[Come.]" There were more words, but that was the one Mayor recognized. She looked at the nomad in surprise.
> "[Here ... come ... lay down.]"
> She was *asking her to join*?!
> The movement and talking had woken Rainy Day up and she groaned softly. Her hoof came up to try and pull the skins back down, to recapture some of the warmth, but Gol was holding them up in invitation.
> Could she?
> Wasn't Mayor still angry with these people for keeping them against their will? For working them and starving them and beating them?
> Would seeking some comfort betray all that? Would they see it as forgiveness, or worse, acceptance?
> Mayor Mare was too tired to deal with such philosophical questions. She knew the night would be very cold and she would spend it shivering and miserable, huddled as near the fire as she could without singeing her fur.
> She needed the rest. She wanted the warmth.
> Rainy Day *had* looked pretty snug.
> Mayor heaved a sigh and tried not to hate herself as she stood up and walked closer.
> Gol was smiling at her and patted the cot where she wanted the mare. Apparently she was to cuddle mostly with Rainy Day.
> Mayor seized on that little fact. She would be sharing a skin blanket and warmth with her friend. The fact that the nomad filly would be next to her was just coincidental.

> Maybe she could square it away with herself like that.
> "Get in already, it's c-cold!" the other mare whined.
> She didn't respond. There was no need. Mayor slid under the skins and the lingering warmth immediately seeped into her chill fur. She barely held back a sigh of comfort. At the very least she would not give Gol the satisfaction!
> It was important to her for some reason.
> As soon as Mayor was lying on her side, the nomad lowered the animal skin over them and pressed against her back. They were both cold from the night air, but they quickly warmed up.
> A few moments later, Gol snaked a foreleg around the mare. Mayor didn't fight it. It was a hard thing to admit to herself, but Gol's claws twirling into the fur on her belly did feel nice.
"Good night, Rainy Day."
> The response was heavily slurred, but still recognizable: "'night, Mayor."
> Gol probably guessed what they were saying because she added her own, in the nomad language.
> Mayor Mare closed her eyes and let the combined warmth and comfort lull her to sleep.

Are things finally getting better? Is the worst behind them?
Maybe Mayor will soon be able to talk the people into taking them back! Maybe.

Paste: https://ponepaste.org/5389
Thx my man, i hope the other writefags follow your example up.
Im really hoping for the Celly rehab one to get back.
Yeees, Mayor Mare. Embrace the bridle. Embrace the tack. Learn to love the rope and the whip. Good girl.
I want to touch her speckles
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We need more scoot.
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Is pony allowed internet access?
No. She can only access the ponynet.
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>page 9
guess nobody cares anymore
Sorry anon, life is complicated right now
Maid horse!
Am writing, but I've got so much shit to do recently that I've been burnt out every night.
Shit sucks.
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>warm and supple poner pillow
Go to bed, anon. Your bedmare is waiting for you.
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Bug when
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Bug has been...
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>hfw she founds out she was bought to be a cuddlepony
>her job from now on will be snuggles, pets, bellyrubs, ear scritchies, and hoof holding
>meyermare slowly entering prehistoric bedmare status
How the mighty fall
>the first night she is so red you barely even hug her out of fear she may catch fire.
>the next day she is angry when its "you' that has to go to work, leaving her with no proper heavy liften for herself.
>"Granny always said i aint proper be sharin beds with no strange colts"
The only option is to horse marry your slave mare
Maybe in time but she is not going to be happy to not have her family there at the time, and what he heck is going to happen to the marriage if pony slavery is abolished?
Well, there's only one option isn't there?
She needs to start her own family with her hooman.
ywn strap knee pads on so you can more easily dance with her at the reception.
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I'm so fucking tired of this, I'm supposed to be the master and now my slave it's my wife. Now she's free and we're ready to get a bigger house, I just wanted some time slave x master scenario but with ponies the 99% of the cases end with marriage
>Horse marry
What exactly does this involve? I'm imagining a whole lot of nose-nuzzling...
That's a little bug.
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I miss Blocky.
She cucked her master. Her virginity wasn't taken by her master and she was virgin when she was with her master
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Pony needs to stop standing on the table
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Rehab when?
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Gently hold the mare
Make her feel safe
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Be careful to not make your other mares jelly!
>Not after the last time.
>Perhaps her friends had already given up?
Sad Mayor is sad.
>That made Mayor too hot
That's some heat fluctuation between day and night.
>eat grass
I wonder how did they manage to translate the word "grass". They were in the tent when talking.
>[Pony, meat, Good, sorry, Night, Rest]
Same here, but this is easier to find an explanation. But oh well, plot.
Also finally foodstuffs!
>sleep, rest
The difference is hard to translate with almost no common knowledge.
>Their only other option would be to try and digest meat.
They will hate it after a few days, but oh well.
I don't know how they managed to differentiate between no and not.
This word is far fetched. How did she manage to learn/come up with this during the previous night? Especially when the "where" and "who" is not yet known.
>wake up either Intor or Gol and ask about it
Hopefully none of them will take this as a bad thing. Also, Mayor seems like a teenager, going to "friends" and coming back late.
>simply slit Rainy Day's throat for being too much trouble
This would be bad. And I think now they would not do this, since they learned that these are intelligent creatures. But also humans killed each other over the simplest things back then soo...
Same. Too far fetched concept.
>cuddle mostly with Rainy Day
That wing injury makes it hard.
>Mayor slid under the skins
That's a big skin.
>Gol's claws twirling into the fur
Hm, do they had dogs or something? I guess they has some experience petting the donkeys, but sleeping with "animals"?

Thanks for the update!
A cute!
I'm kinda glad I don't have a slave pone. It'd probably be pregnant due to all the lockdowns.
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Mares are for starting a family with.
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She was trying to be cute and sexy
But now shes just stuck
Please help pony
Please stop laughing
>She was trying to be cute and sexy
succeeded in at least one of those
>Please help pony
lol no, shes getting wrapped up in a blanketburrito and deposited onto bed for a cuddle session
I can't believe the unicorn pride it's fucking dead. I guess some cuddles and bed duties is enough to make the unicorn happy with their new role in the society.
>tfw just want a nice /comfy/ nap with the poner
>tfw she insists on rubbing her face all over your crotch
>tfw starting to have wierd feelings about your poner
wat do?
Sometimes you'll get one that realizes how nice things are and lets themself be happy.
Usually it's a couple years of an uphill battle before they give in.
Check out submission is mandatory for hardcore slave stuff
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Sad bump.
Hope you'll be better soon.
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>sales start slowing down
>auction house picks up a few old computers
>ponies start making aggressive passes at humans they like via social media
Any green updates writefags?
110% would snug. I'd be a sucker for ponies doing shit like that.
"I saw you looking the other day! Why didn't you buy me? Now I'm still stuck in this tiny cage."
Sorry its taking so long, things are very busy here
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Pone is for snuggs
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at least some are still lurking around
Couldn't escape if I tried.
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Oh yeah, the famous NTR novelist roseluck, expert in cucking her master and getting a really fucking regular to poor life with her marefriend
This is my last bump in this general. Literally nothing it's happening and we even lost the bedfilly bumper because literally nothing happen.
If this thread get archived before the bump limit please considerate to create the general again one or two weeks later, at least that would give enough time to generate content for the writers.
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It's just a dry spell. They happen every so often when people's schedules all line up the wrong way. Or when theres a big vidya release.
Was there a big game coming out? I've been out of the loop for a while.
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Space heater when?
But you have to get her angry for sufficient output.
Imagine a society where the houses use kirins for heat. There are shops to buy new ones and discard the old. Every week a new one is needed as they burn out fast. And they are cloned/mass produced for only this purpose. Their life is literally created to supply a week worth of heat to a house, then discarded.
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Meanwhile, on the boat
But they left the boat in the last arc iirc.
There is no leaving the boat.
The boat stretches to infinity in all directions.
There is nothing but the boat.
We are all on a boat sailing through the universe.
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Pony cleans the house while grumbling angrily.

> The day had gone pretty much like the others, with the important difference that Rainy Day was able to walk which allowed Intor to load Mayor Mare up with her little family's belongings.
> She was still concerned about her pegasus friend, but it looked like she was getting better. The fever was still there, but perhaps it didn't burn as hotly, and although she stumbled and dragged her hooves, Rainy Day had been determined to walk on her own.
> Mayor had asked why, especially since the nomads were willing to let her carry her injured friend, but hadn't gotten an answer. Rainy Day had just stared at her for a few moments, then looked away.
> It could be that she was starting to realize that no help was coming and they had to think of their future. The ponies had to be useful to the people, or they might yet end up on the menu.
> That one seemed less and less likely, especially as Mayor picked up more of their language, but she only had to look at how the nomads lived to fear them. At their water skins, the fur blankets, their animal hide clothes and the bones they used to prop up their tents. They had no compunctions about killing and using other creatures.
> The lesson was driven home as they arrived at their destination late that afternoon. They caught up with the group of nomads who had been driving their donkey herd. The animals had to be dragged along to move and Mayor saw one of the younger nomads whacking the beasts with a thin stick.
> She wondered if Intor would do the same to them, if they refused to work. For the past hour or so Rainy Day had been lagging behind and her head was hanging low, so Mayor felt double the relief when she saw their new camping spot.
> Most nomads were putting up tents and the ground was pounded by many feet into mud. Old fire pits dotted the surface and there was a general air of joy in the camp. They had arrived.
> This was the place they had sought, Mayor deduced. Salki did not come for her that evening, she assumed because his mother needed his help. On the other hoof, Willow stayed with Intor and Gol and helped them put up their own tent.
> Gol dug little pits in the hard, packed ground, and her brother drove the bones into them in a rough circle. When he was done, he tied the tops together and Intor began plastering the construction with skins.
> One of those had been the large blanket Gol had been using on their travels. The thing was actually made of several hides, stitched together with crude thread. In a way, Mayor thought to herself, she had slept under Intor's tent the previous day. She wondered if the nomads would let her and Rainy Day stay inside through the cold night.
> Perhaps she could convince them to at least take the ill mare. It would undoubtedly speed her recovery.

> Since Salki hadn't come to fetch her away, Mayor spent the evening helping as much as she was able. One of the bone struts of the tent hadn't been driven quite deep enough and had sagged. That caused Intor to yell at her son, who just began shouting back.
> They probably wouldn't have come to blows, but Mayor made a decision and slipped into the tent during their argument. She swallowed a lump as she looked at the smooth, yellow bone, then gritted her teeth and grabbed it with both hooves.
> It was smooth and cold and dry, perhaps like polished wood, although knowing that it was bone made all the difference and Mayor felt thoroughly disgusted. She still gripped it firmly and leaned her whole weight on it.
> The bone sank a little deeper into the ground. It felt more stable and Mayor was only too glad to let go of the macabre thing. The next bit was easier and she firmly stomped down the ground around the thing to pack it together.
> She held her breath and touched the strut once more, to make sure it was no longer wobbly. It stood solid and the mare nodded to herself in satisfaction.
> When she turned to leave, she saw Willow in the entrance. He was looking at her, but she couldn't guess whether he was pleased that she had done his task, or annoyed that she interfered.
"[You're welcome.]"
> He blinked in surprise and she simply slipped past him out of the tent. Now that she was talking, at least a little, the hunter didn't quite know what to do with her, so he simply let his mother control both mares.
> That suited Mayor just fine. She didn't mind doing work in exchange for the nomads' protection and their food. That was one way she could think about it so she didn't have to use 'slave' even to herself.
> In front of the tent Intor already had a fire going in the pit and Gol was poking at Rainy Day's tied-up wing. The mare winced every now and then, but it didn't look like she was in significant pain.
> It would take a long time to heal and it might never do so completely, but the injury no longer seemed life-threatening. Even the infection was apparently on the decline.
> The sun was very nearly down, so Mayor went to Intor and waved to get her attention.
"[Please, food, water?]"
> The female studied them for a moment, then said something to her daughter. Mayor thought she recognized the words for 'go' and 'pony'.
> Her theory was soon confirmed when the younger nomad gathered their leading ropes and began to guide them through the nomad camp.
> They wove around fires and past groups of people. Here and there young children stared at them with wide, fearful eyes. Older nomads sometimes watched with curiosity too, but by then the mares were well-known and most of the people paid them little mind.

> Mayor heard some braying and yells off to one side and she saw that Gol was leading them past where the donkeys were tied up. Despite her best effort, a tiny, smug smile came to her lips.
> Already the two Equestrians were considered more than those dumb beasts. True, Gol still held their ropes, but she knew they could talk. For that matter, she had even let them sleep in her own bed the previous night to keep them warm.
> Mayor still didn't know quite how she felt about that, but not being miserable and shivering the whole night came a long way to quelling her embarrassment.
> They were almost out of the nomad camp when she became aware of some commotion behind them. She looked back to see what it was and then her steps faltered.
> A group of nomads were dragging one of the beasts from the group and a few others were using their whips to drive the rest of the herd back. The donkey they were pulling aside was braying loudly, mostly because they were hauling it by its ears and tail.
"What the- [Gol! Gol!]"
> The young female looked back. Since Mayor didn't know the correct words, she just pointed a hoof at the activity and gave her a pleading look.
> She didn't understand the answer, but Gol came back and put her paw on Mayor's head. Rainy Day was standing a short distance away and staring at the commotion, and her ears quickly folded down.
> "Mayor, what's happening?"
"I don't know. I- I-"
> She didn't get further because she saw one of the nomads near the donkey grab his stone knife. All she saw saw was a dark bit of obsidian gripped in the nomad's claw, but Mayor had no doubt it was a knife.
"S-Shit... let's go!"
> The situation was one of her worst fears, being played out right before their eyes. Mayor looked away, but Rainy Day was transfixed and stared at the scene.
"No! Don't look! Let's go! [Gol!]" she whined.
> The nomad didn't seem particularly perturbed, but she grew alarmed when she looked at Mayor Mare. She jabbered a question at her, but the mare couldn't think straight enough to even try and understand it.
> She did the best she could and transposed herself in Rainy Day's line of sight. It was just in time, too.
> She heard the awful, wet, sliding sound, the loud bray which turned into gurgling. She heard the shouts of the nomads, thrilled and joyous at their gruesome work. Perhaps the worst part was the sound of liquid splashing on the ground.
> The wet, choking remnant of the bray sounded out in the air which was suddenly too quiet and too still.
> Mayor held her breath and waited for the panic from the other donkeys when they smelled blood.
> It didn't come.

> She dared a glance, but the herd was already grazing, not much interested in what was happening mere yards away. A few of the younger ones were staring in alarm, but perhaps they didn't understand what was happening.
> Maybe they saw this kind of thing often enough to have gotten used to it.
> That was a scary thought.
> "M-M-Mayor?" Rainy Day asked in a breathless whisper. Her eyes were wide and frightened, but at least she kept her gaze locked with Mayor's. "What- did they- oh, Celestia!"
> The mare was trembling through her entire body and it looked like she was about to bolt. She would easily tear the rope from Gol's paw and she could probably outrun the young female.
> She wouldn't outrun Willow and the other hunters. She wouldn't outrun the wolves. One or the other would find her and this time, Mayor knew, her fate would be the same. The nomads wouldn't suffer them escaping again. Perhaps they would kill Mayor too, just to be rid of the trouble.
"Rainy Day! Focus on me! It's fine! It's fine! It was a donkey. We knew they use meat. They won't do it to us, okay? We're safe!"
> The pegasus began to shake her head, but Mayor gripped her muzzle with both hooves.
"We're fine! Just ignore it. It's not going to happen to us, understand? We're different!"
> It got through and Rainy Day closed her eyes. She shuddered and tears began to leak past her eyelids. Mayor Mare used the opportunity to nudge the mare and turn her away from the grisly spectacle.
"Come on. We'll get some food and water, and then we'll go to sleep. It'll be better in the morning. Just forget it. Ignore it."
> She had managed to keep her voice under control and her steady tone and quiet, solid authority was working. Rainy Day was calming down and she lifted a shaky hoof.
> Gol also understood what Mayor was doing and began to murmur her own encouragement to the distressed mare. They couldn't understand it, but her words were soft and sounded soothing.
> Together they coaxed the pegasus into walking.
> Mayor glanced back. Her vision was blurry, but she saw how red the ground was. Red stains on the nomads' legs, on their claws. There was a gray mass in the middle, but they were already peeling away the skin.
> She turned resolutely back. The donkeys were beasts, she told herself. They were mindless, they couldn't understand death. After all, the herd was already settling down a short distance away from the butchery.
> They didn't think, or feel, like Equestrians. They were mindless.
> Mayor had to keep telling herself that. She had to make herself believe it.
> Her own sanity was hanging by a thread, but she had to keep it at all costs. They *would not* die in this bucked-up world. Not to the fearsome beasts, nor to the nomads' cruel, stone knives. They would make it back.

> It all depended on her.
> They couldn't outrun the nomads and they would never be able to fight them off. Even if they did, the two mares would never survive the trip back. They would get hopelessly lost and mauled by some primal monstrosity.
> The only thing they could do was out-think their captors. Their minds were their best chance of getting out alive. They had Equestria inside them and that proud nation had never faltered. As long as they remembered their heritage they would also win.
> Donkeys were just stupid beasts of this land. They were animals, perhaps even less than that by Equestrian standards.
> The nomads did what they had to do to survive and so would the mares.
"We have to eat."
> "I'm not hungry."
"We have to. Rainy Day, we're wasting away. These people have vegetables, at least some kinds. I'll try and get us some, but we still have to eat as much grass as we can."
> Rainy Day rounded on Mayor. "How can you say that?! How can you be like that?! They just *murdered* somepony!"
"No. Not somepony. They slaughtered a beast. These- these animals are not ponies. They don't have minds."
> For a short while Rainy Day wasn't able to articulate any words. Her muzzle opened and closed in shock, but then she snapped it shut and turned away. "We should have done something!"
"We have to think of ourselves," Mayor countered. "You saw what these people are like. We can't do anything. We have to out-think them."
> There was no reply.
"Rainy Day, we have to survive. If not for us, then for everypony else."
> That got a reaction and the mare looked back. "What?! Why?"
"We have to warn Celestia and Luna about this place. They have to shut the portal. We can't risk these people getting into Equestria!"
> She was right and she saw it in Rainy Day's eyes. Her ears sagged and she let out a breath she was holding. "Fine."
"So you'll eat?"
> "Yes." The reply was listless, without warmth or emotion, but it sounded truthful.
> The pegasus resented her cold, heartless logic, she knew, but Mayor couldn't worry about that. If- *When* they came home they could spend as much time as they needed in therapy to get over it. She could break down and cry then.
> First, they had to get home. At whatever cost.

A bit of a shorter update on account of slight overworking, but it felt like a good breaking point and the next bit would be too long to include here.
Paste: https://ponepaste.org/5389

Thanks for the commentary, I don't say this enough. Here, specifically, I agree that some of the words don't make sense, but I'm taking significant artistic liberties for the sake of the pacing.
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This whole situation could have been avoided, ya know.
Celestia sent her most dangerous weapon to Ponyville for a reason.
>twiggie slave
I don't know if this would make the humanity to fuck off and not return to equestria or just nuke equestria. Twiggy would totally manipule the human to nuke both the earth and equestria
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>bug never ever
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time for mayor
getting increasingly worried theyre not making it out of there alive and I dont think I could handle that
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Fine... Ill do it myself then.

>"Its pretty late anon, you should go to sleep"
>thats thought had been playing on loop into your mind for about 2 hours now like a broken record.
>But you just dont listen to it, afraid to feel like this day, like many others, has been a waste if you rest now.
>Its not like youre going to make it productive anytime soon, but the feeling is still there, chipping you away.
>You can see yourself reflected on the old glass of whisky, staring back with a face you can only describe as.... lost.
>The same face you studied and and stare on for many minutes on a daily basis, not liking it, but at the same time, not hating it either.
>Afraid to insult yourself? Maybe, afther all you always considered yourself a coward
>"Need another one chief?"
>You slighty raise your tired eyes to the Stallion bartender, who just smiles at you in a uplifting manner, waiting paciently for a answer.
>Pity or not, you exacly cant figure out why he has been so sympatetic to you since you arrived. but at least he didt bother you with small talk.
"Yeah... i think i do"
>your voice tumble out lazily though your mouth, making you realize that the achool finally was taking some effect on you.
>"Gotcha, this one is on the house chief"
>the now familiar magical chanting coming though his horn reach your ears, but you dont actually get to see the process happen as he approach the bottle and fills your glass with just the right amount.
>You been here so long that he now knows exactly how much you like to take without even having to ask.
"On the house?"
>for what you remenber, you didt even talk properly to this pony ever since you started to frequent this pub, so he just giving away a free shot felt... weird, to say the least.
>"You seem like you need it boss. Slave or not, i can tell when a po-- person, when a person just wants the warm felling of a good drink on their soul."
>if you were sober you would think that this pony is just saying no sence, but right now, you can see that he is completly right,
>the glass slides away to your hand on a smooth movement, and just after catching it, you drink away some of it
>"No problem chief"
>His voice was warm, and even if you didt see it, you could feel like he was smiling.
>Its pretty hard to believe a slave worker would be happy talking to a human, it could be all just a farse mind you, but a part of you dosent believe that. he sounds legitimaly like a nice dude.
>"Name`s Silver Cocktail, at your service"
>He introduces himself on a playfull manner, trying to cheer some reaction from you.
"Anon... Just call me anon.."
>Anon buys Moonie
>things going quite well for several months; no nightmares, no need for spankings, no world domination plans, and some weird feelings are starting to feel
>you know, the feely feels that feel feely
>Moonie remarks that she'd like a little extra help and somepony to be friends with
>by sheer dumb luck Anon finds Luna and buys her
how does this go short, medium, and long term?
>"Anon, eh? You chaps always have weird names, if you dont mind me saying"
>for the first time since you sat down you raise your head and adjust your posture to look a bit suprised to the stallion.
>Did he just...
>"Whats the matter chief? Never heard a pony before talking like that? I always caugh people off-guard by that, and i gotta say, it never gets old"
>he says before you could even respond, laughing it off lighty as he clean away one of the glasses with his hooves.
>"You all just expect the same old "Yes sir" "No sir" "Right away sir" kind of mentality right? All cowardly and obedient like a robot"
>Even though his talk could easialy be mistaken with disobidiance of just flat out rebelious, you can cleary notice that there is no malice in his tone.
>If you didt know any better, you could bet that hes just making some jokenly remark, even as it sounds extremly morbid given the circustances theses ponys find themselfs in
"... Right. I... How did you know i wouldt just, i dont know.."
>Youre lost for words here, you never talked much to ponys, not because you didt like them or because you consider them to be just "things", and not a actual being.
>But because you always pity the poor things, to the point you felt shame on yourself and your whole species, so talking to them would result on you just feeling awfull in general.
>"Freak out and order my master to re-train me for taking like that?"
>His words are quick but they cut deep into your ears even though he said with the most calm tone.
>Imagining that treatment really wasent to your liking, so thats another reason you avoided ponys, to try to forget how fucked up your species really is.
"Coundt have say it better..."
>You responde letting out a deep sign, after all, the stallion was right. the tipical ass of a person would do just that, and there is a whole lot of them.
>"Well... because you dont give a buck chief, thats why. Im been your bartender for what? 3 hours now? and since then you didt even flitch when you saw that a horse was giving you drinks."
>The young stallion continues as he puts the clean levatating glass away, and then hops onto 2 legs resting his front hooves over the bar, giving his figure a more clear sight and getting you at the same heigh level.
>His mane was short and white like snow, and his coat had a cool tint of dark blue with some gray spots over it
>"Its like im finally a real bartander once again, and not some freakish alien with second citizen status"
>Even though the reality of his words were tough, he didt sound hurted, quite the contrary, it felt like he was cheery.
>That made you finally ease up a bit, if the being thats being slaved is taking it so lighty then maybe you could talk to him without feeling like complete garbabe
"Well, lets just say that as long i get my drink, i dont care who is on the other side"
>"Cheers for that chief, cheers for thats"
>Quickly the stallion response, with now a pretty warm up smile to his face. a Smile that really made you fell better about all this crazy reality youre living in. And you pretty sure he is felling the same way
>you follow his energy with a slight nod and raise of you glass before drinking up.
>maybe you could stay up a few more minutes... At least now you dont have to feel shity alone.
Quad Green
What a fucking chad.
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>that fresh green smell
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>space celly closure never ever
It's been years but it still hurts.
Life is suffering anon
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>Page 10
Come on people, dont let the thread die like that. Hold on until some other writefags make some updates.
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I hate how little free time I have
Every day I'm exhausted when I get off work and kind of just collapse in a chair
I need a little pone to take care of me
It only gets never endingly worse as your get older.
You could like... not do that.
If I could figure out a way to quit muh jerb and not immediately lose the house I'd do it in a heartbeat.
I just wanna poniponi.
i will have some tme in the next 24
>TFW I used to keep up to date with this thread
>Read all the stories in it religiously
>Even wrote some as well
>Knew all the writers and loved seeing them turn up
>Can barely bother to check in once every few days now
I'm sorry, anons. I don't want the thread to die, I'm just feeling a lack of any motivation.
I await to see where you'll take this. I wish I had something to say other than "check your grammar" but there really isn't enough to form an impression.
I'm writing
I swear
I'm just really bad at it
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>we'll never know how landscape wanted to continue
>or how he wanted to end the story

Landscape Appul just needs to be snuggled.
that poor writefag seemed to have some emotional and/or mental problems, I just hope that whatever they are up to they have found peace.
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Why are they so easy to catch?
Do they not have natural predators?
you've got it wrong, anon. they ARE the predators. sexual predators, but predators nonetheless
>Thinking that you are the one who caught them and not the other way
Sorry to hear that. Hope it gets better.
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Especially the bird horses.
Completely insatiable, the only species to acquire human fetishes, and the most physically affectionate of the three.
Stay hydrated, and invest in a high quality lock for your bedroom door.
anal is a bad fetish for closet scatfags
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Consider getting more than one pony so they're not lonely when you're at work
>two pegamares
RIP anon's pelvis
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too hipsterey, she wouldn't even know what a pomegranate is or what it tastes like if you ask her.
If she likes it of not she would have to drink it all before i bought her any different ones
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Good girl deserves pets and scratches after a hard days work
this is pretty cofy, require more
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Poni is for dressing up for christmas
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Pony carries you to work
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>vega never ever
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lil poners enjoy older videogames
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>writing small-to-medium story
>have most of it done
>can't allow myself to post it and installments like most writefags, because I won't ever finish it if I do
>continuing is a huge psychological strain for some reason
>but i'm staring at pages upon pages of unposted content that's just sitting there burning a hole in my hard drive

Anybody know any legal performance enhancing drugs I can get a hold of?
Hmm Lisdexamfetamine dimesylate
Who is moonie I thought it was Luna
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just get some weed.
is not hard to get and it helps a lot.
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Drugs are bad for you, it's better to work out a proper method so you can work on it on command instead of relying on outside factors.
Remember: the mares are watching, and they believe in you.

Look up"2- minute rule" it's been useful to me in the past.
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Vega when
Space Celly when
imagine when they're dancing their teats brush together isn't that funny haha
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as someone who doesn't go outside or socially interact.
I wouldn't know where to begin
>Rainy Day was able to walk
Hopefully it stays that way.
>starting to realize that no help was coming
I hope she does not gives up hope.
>wondered if Intor would do the same
Well, they basically carry Rainy.
>drove the bones into them in a rough circle
Hm, why aren't they using wood? They don't seem to be the elephant/mammoth hunter types. Where do they obtain larger bones from?
>stay inside
Only good ponies get to sleep inside.
>gripped it firmly
Hopefully not with her mouth.
>He blinked in surprise
Poor thing must be confused.
>Rainy Day was transfixed and stared at the scene
They already saw the wolves being killed. The only difference that this time its an equine.
>They won't do it to us, okay?
Probably not as food. Humanity learned quick what meat is good for food and what's poisonous. Don't think they want to experiment.
>I'm not hungry.
Every single time when they ate it either did not begin well, or they puked it out later. Not a good track record.
>If not for us, then for everypony else.
Good. Give her a reason to carry on.

Thanks for the update!
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A good girl
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Never ever
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If she fits she sits
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How does spinning magically make them so much cuter?

>prisonpones get sold across the portal to raise money for charity
>usually to fix whatever damage they caused
I'm okay with this.
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Master is gonna get jumped as soon as he gets back from work.
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> Waking up to find a package left just outside the plane wasn’t entirely unusual.
> Having a package meant for your pony, though…?
> Can’t say you ever remember that before.
> Then again, you’d not had her that long either, so there’s probably a first time for everything.
“Hey Spiiiits!”
> “Wha’izzit?” Her exhausted voice echoes from somewhere back in the plane.
“Did you order something? A, uh-”
> You twist and bend the package in your hands, trying to judge its contents.
“-a catalog or something? A book?”
> “Uh, no? I can’t order anything, remember?”
“Hasn’t stopped you from stealing my credit card before!”
> “That was once, and it was for a bottle of water from a machine. Shaddup!”
> Chuckling, you tuck the package under an arm and crawl back inside.
“You care if I open it? It’s labeled for you, ‘care of Anonymous’ - I don’t recognize the return address.”
> Hooves on metal announce Spitfire’s approach - her mane somehow already groomed into its trademark swoop and wings preened up into smoothness.
> How that pony could love mornings so much is a total mystery to you.
> “Lemme see it.”
> Expertly catching the lobbed package in her jaws, she pins it beneath one hoof and tears it open with a quick twist of her head.
> Out slides what looks like some kind of soft cover book, but Spitfire’s interest falls on the loose sheet of paper that floats out with it.
> “Eh, lemme see… ‘To, Spitfire, care of Anonymous; From, Harper Collins publishing. It has come to our attention that the enclosed work contains depictions of ‘Spitfire’... eh, someone’s trying to write about me or something.”
“Oh yeah? What do ya bet it’s a steeeeamy romance novel, huh?”
> “Hey, keep running your mouth and I’ll shed feathers in your oatmeal.” Spitfire bats a wing in your direction, and you raise your hands in mock-surrender.
“So? Keep going, then.”
> “Fine, fine. Lemme see, uh… ‘depictions of ‘Spitfire’, we are seeking your full and encompassing permission … to use the likeness of yourself in a published work… in full legal consultation, yadda yadda…”
> She tilts her head curiously, one ear flicking as she continues to read.
> “...refusal will result in no published content … will require legal authorization of Anonymous to utilize the likeness of his property…”
> Ah, shit.
> Spitfire snorts softly, but you’re already by her side - a hand descending to scratch between her ears.
“It’s probably some asshole trying to get a ‘real and true’ memoir published by sneaking it in as fiction again. Remember the guy who tried to publish the “interviews” about how we were actually evil agents of the ‘new world order’ and tried to sneak it by as fiction?”
> “Yeah, I do. Hey, I’m going to stretch my wings a bit. Burn off the last drowsiness with a little morning exercise. That okay?”
> And burn off any leftover annoyance, you knew.
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> That was just how she handled it.
“No worries, Spits. I’ll still be here when you get back.”
> “Heh. Thanks.”
“What do you want me to do with the… whatever this is?”
> Spitfire pauses, craning her neck to glance back while already halfway out the nearest hatch.
> “Eh, take a look if you want. But I’d say just throw it out. And say ‘no’.”
“Got it. Have a good flight!”
> “Thanks. Your oatmeal’s on the hot plate!”
> So it was.
> When you bring it back to the tiny desk that served as both your workspace, though, the package was still there.
> Eh, may as well.
> Not like a little bad reading was going to spoil your appetite.
> Tearing open the inner package you find to your surprise that it is not a properly-printed book but a manuscript - informal type on standard-size paper sheets, bound in nothing more than standard metal rings.
> Huh.
> Turning it over, you find a simple title on the top:
> ‘Princess Twilight and the Fiery Captain’?
> The name ‘Twilight’ is vaguely familiar - some kind of Equestrian minor ruler? - but you didn’t recognize the author’s name at all.
> You’d have to ask Spitfire who both of them are.
> Another few pages are flipped and you start in on ‘Chapter 1: Embers Aglow’.
> Spitfire had been right about one thing: This was definitely fiction.
> Not some kind of hit-piece portraying you as drug runners, terrorists, or evil agents of world domination, though.
> Just something about Spitfire meeting with this ‘Princess Twilight’, whoever she is.
> In fact, the writing here is kind of… slow? Staid? Monotonous?
> Whoever did this bit didn’t really have their heart in it.
> You chuckle gently to yourself; did Spitfire actually have fan-writers?
> She did say she was kind of well-known back in Equestria.
> A few more pages are flipped ahead and several lines scanned.
> Then you scan them again.
> Pause.
> Blink.
> Read them a third time just to be sure.
> You flip a few pages again, and find a little giggle bubbling up through your throat.
> There was no way…
> Oh my God, it was.


> “‘Please, Captain, are these cuffs truly necessary?’ Princess Twilight Sparkle cried, her eyes
tracing the pegasus mare’s trim and muscled coat.
‘Absolutely! It is clear you know nothing of discipline, Captain Spitfire barked, ‘and I will not serve an undisciplined princess! It falls to me to instruct your sorry rump in it, and by Celestia I will!’
> And Princess Twilight Sparkle’s rump was very sorry indeed, because she saw the thin but supple crop in Spitfire’s hooves and knew the fire it would kindle in her ample curves.
> “This is hardly the proper way to instruct, Captain!” whimpered Twilight. “If you want to teach, I have plenty of volumes explaining-”
> “EEEP!”
> Chains clattered as Twilight jumped on all four hooves when the crop traced its fiery touch across her posterior.
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> Though she could hardly see her haunches shackled as she was, she knew a stroke such as that would surely leave a quickly-reddening line running nearly from cutie mark to cutie mark.
> “AGH!”
“Let that be an early warning for you, ‘Princess’. Now, something for that constantly-running mouth of yours…!”
> Another round of clinking - this time not her own shackles, but of the bridle carried in Spitfire’s jaws.
> Deft and familiar gestures brought the straps around her head, buckling them into place: The cheek pieces, cutting into her soft coat. The throatlatch, almost chokingly tight under her chin. The browband, which snapped onto the heavy iron restrictor already anchored onto her horn.
Twilight gave a little fearful whinny as Spitfire tugged hard on the strap, cords of muscle standing out as she tightened each in turn.
“Open your mouth!”
> So firm was Spitfire’s command that Twilight Sparkle did not hesitate for even a second. Her mouth opened, accepting the metal bar pushed in between her teeth.
> Her tongue probed and pushed, testing the limits of the bit’s travel, and found it prevented nearly all movement.
> “Pleath…”
“ ‘Pleath’ what, Princess?”
> Her vision was filled with Captain Spitfire’s smirking, smoldering expression.
“ ‘Pleath’ this?”
> Lavender lips were met by bright yellow ones; Twilight gave a shocked ‘Mmmmmph?!’ but, bound as she was, could do little to resist.
> Little at all - with the bit secured across her mouth, her tongue was trapped beneath the unrelenting iron as well.
> Left utterly unable to resist as the Captain’s tongue invaded her mouth, Twilight was only able to whine as her mouth was thoroughly explored by the invader.
> Finally the two broke apart, both breathing heavily.
“So weak…”
> Spitfire’s whisper was delivered straight into Twilight’s ear, the little brush of hot air tickling the velveteen fuzz coating it.
> Still open-mouthed and panting from the intensity of the meeting, Twilight was caught off-guard when the bitter-tasting leather of a long, thin, supple crop was jammed in next to the bit.
> “Mmmmph…”
“Do NOT let that drop, Twilight Sparkle.”
> Cuffs clinked gently as Twilight shivered, the severe bridle preventing her from turning her head to follow the captain’s slow walk around her. But she could hear the other mare circling, stalking, peeling her apart with her fiery gaze.
> And she could feel where Spitfire’s feathers brushed her flanks, over her croup, and down along her haunches.
“A leader needs discipline, Princess! And it is abundantly clear you lack any such thing. So, you will hold this whip in your sorry mouth until I am done. Every moan, whimper, or whine you make, I will add another stroke to your sorry hide! And if you drop it, the price will be a hundred times worse!”
> Twilight tilted her head (as much as the bridle would allow) in confusion; what kind of test was tha-
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> Twilight stiffened as she felt the Captain’s dextrous tongue dance beneath her tail, wicking the dampness already spilling from her marehood.
> Her whinnying squeal almost let the crop fall from her jaws; at the last second she remembered to clamp down on it.
> Straining against the straps binding her, Twilight was however unable to reject the pleasured whimper escaping her throat.
“Failing already, Princess?”
> Spitfire purred, lifting her head from the Princess’ nethers.
“Then I guess we’re going to be having a lot of fun with that crop!”
> Ears laid flatly back, Twilight found herself struggling to restrain further moans as the Captain’s tongue returned to its dextrous work.
> She was far, far more skilled than anything - or anyone - Twilight had ever experienced before.
> Not only did her tongue delve deep within, it also proved surprisingly dextrous: Seeking out and assaulting the fleshy bud at the base of Twilight’s marehood.
> Spitfire even seemed to have developed a preternaturally-skillful sense of when Twilight was about to wink; each time that hyper-senstiive bud emerged from its hood, the Captain’s tongue was there to greet it and draw yet another whine from Twilight’s throat..
> And yet, Twilight thought, that was not even the most teasing thing about this experience.
> That, rather, was the seemingly-unfathomable endurance Spitfire displayed:
> Burying her muzzle deep beneath Twilight’s tail and pleasuring the mare relentlessly, long after she knew her own lungs would have been burning for any kind of relief.
> The tiny fraction of her brain still capable of logical reasoning told her that of course Spitfire would be quite capable of stretching her time without oxygen; she was, after all, an athlete.
> The rest of her brain told her that it didn’t matter; the only thing that mattered was the utter pleasure radiating throughout her body.
> Pleasure that resonated from her eartips to her hooves, seeming to only grow larger and larger and-


> The tap-tap of Spitfire’s hooves touching down against the plane’s skin heralded her return - a fact she didn’t bother disguising much, if at all these days.
> “Hey boss, I’m back!”
“Cool, I’m in the back.”
> More hooftaps, and Spitfire’s head emerges through the bulkhead door.
> “You’re just laying down still? C’mon, we don’t want to be too late! And what are you reading? Is that the thing we got?”
“Yeah, it is. C’mon, take a listen to this -”
> You clear your throat and gesture dramatically.
“-and Spitfire kissed her again, overwhelming her both with the aggressive approach and the overwhelming scent of her own arousal. Twilight could little to resist, her mind mostly focused on the lines of glowing heat seemingly carved into her rump by the crop.”
> “Oh, you are rutting kidding me. Please tell me you’re rutting kidding me!”
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> Squeezing down the giggle that threatens to spill from your lips, you just keep reading.
> Spitfire - the actual Spitfire - slowly lets her wings go slack, jaw dropping as she is bombarded by your words.
> “You got to be - someone wrote me torturing Princess Twilight Sparkle?!”
> You can barely hold your guffaws now, and all resistance against the incredibly wide grin plastered across your face:
“Oh, yeah. You’re ‘torturing’ her alright!”
> A few pages ahead, you find another good spot to continue reading from -
“Check this bit out. There’s something here where you twist her all around with rope, teaching her how to ‘ignore the strain’.”
> -but never get the chance.
>You’d barely noticed the twitch of her hindlegs before Spitfire tackled you, hooves scrabbling at the manuscript.
> “Give me that thing!”
“No way!”
> “Give it! I can’t believe someone wrote me doing - doing THAT with Princess Twilight Sparkle!”
“Whaaat, she not your type?”
> Spitfire fixes you with the kind of skewering glare that is absolutely zero percent sexy, one hundred percent promised pain.
> “Bite me, Anonymous. She was my Princess!”
> “And?! We - We served them, not molested them!”
“Ohohoho, if that’s what you’re worried about - don’t worry, Spits. ‘Chapter 23; Fighting Fire With Fire’-”
> A fresh look of despair crosses Spitfire’s face.
> “Don’t you dare tell me…”
“-in which Princess Twilight Sparkle, recovered from her experiences, comes back having done a whole lot of research of her own into exactly how to properly restrain a pegasus-”
> “Don’t you dare!”
“And proceeds to return everything ‘you’ had done to her with interest. H-Hold on…”
> Twisting around to whisk the manuscript away from the furious pegasus’ snapping jaws, you turn many pages further until you find approximately the right zone:
“Okay, here we go. I swear, there’s so much in here about where it’s best to tie a pegasus’ wings-”
> “She wrote about the wings?!”
“-and listen to this: ‘She strutted about the trembling pegasus, horn blazing as cord deftly wove itself around taught muscle and straining limbs. When she was done, Spitfire found herself stretched even to the limits of her lithe and limber body, suspending in the air in a strained arch which left her utterly immobile, and utterly defenseless.’”
> “I am going to rutting murder-”
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“Shhh, shh. It’s just getting good. ‘Now, Captain, I understand you have something of a reputation for stamina,’ Twilight smirked, “and fortunately, I happen to be a devoted fan of research. I hereby requisition your services for some quite specific exploration.’ ‘Mmmmmph!’, moaned Spitfire, orange eyes flicking frantically through the wide variety of toys Twilight had arranged before her. Her struggles only increased as she felt the warm tendrils of magic weaving, worming, and prickling through her feathers and along her toned flanks to’ - OW OW OW MY EAR!”
> “Then give it!”
“No, I want to finish it!”
> “You finish it, I’ll finish you!”
> Managing finally to get a firm grip with her teeth on the sheaf of paper, Spitfire pulls the entire thing from your grip and retreats back with a flap of her wings.
> Another flap and a kick of her powerful hindlegs, and she is up in the old flight engineer’s compartment, above the cabin.
> Out of your immediate reach, though not of a ladder if you cared to go get one.
> Looking at the well-toned leg she had left hanging back down (perhaps as something of a warning), you come to the conclusion that trying to follow her up there would be a short and painful endeavor.
> Instead you settle down into one of the bunks, returning to actual work and listening for the occasional moan (of despair, not the fun kind) from Spitfire’s redoubt.
> From the sounds of it, she’s actually committing herself to reading the entire thing.
> Certainly it takes long enough for her to come back, dropping back down to the floor with a harsh clang-clang as her hooves near-simultaneously touch down.
> Face and cheeks still flushed deeply red, Spitfire drops the manuscript on her bunk with a piercing slap and stares at you.
> Spitfire snorted again, nostrils flaring wide. “You know, when you’re a Wonderbolt, you get used to the idea of stallions - and some mares - thinking about you that way. You’re young, fit, glamorous, and frankly the suits don’t leave a whole lot to the imagination.”
> You pointedly keep any quips trapped well behind your teeth.
> “So.” Sighing again, Spitfire growls and shakes her head - still flushing hard. “So, I can still say this is honestly the first time I’ve ever actually found a full-on fan-fiction novella of me doing - that. And it’s… thorough. Whoever wrote it had a lot of time and a… vibrant imagination.”
“Oh, so that bit about tying the wings isn’t an to-”
> “Bite me.”
> Your smirky grin only grows wider.
“Careful, I might.”
> Spitfire once again fixes you with one of her trademark acidic captain’s glares, and you chuckle.
“So. Any idea who’s responsible? I didn’t recognize the name.”
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> “I’d swear I’ve heard the name somewhere, but winds take me if I can remember from where. I’ll say this, though - whoever they are, they must’ve at least seen Twilight Sparkle. They’re, uh-”
She blushed, deeply. “- frankly accurate about her - her build. She was not an athlete.”
“You met her? This ‘Twilight’?”
> “A few times, mostly just at formal state stuff. Knew one of her friends, though. Whoever this is, I think they were closer than me.”
“So what you’re saying is, if it’s all that accurate there’s a fair chance Twilight Sparkle is a huge closet pervert as well?”
> “It is not ‘accurate’!”
“Oh, I don’t know. It seemed to get you pretty well.”
> Sputtering, Spitfire snaps an evil eye at the innocent-looking sheaf of papers.
> “The next time we’re out over the ocean, I am going to throw it out of the plane, then get out myself and make a thundercloud for no particular purpose except to strike it with lighting.”
“You do that. But you still don’t know who wrote it?”
> “Nah. Whoever this ‘Sweetie Belle’ is, I can’t particularly place her anywhere.”

> Meanwhile, in a home somewhere very, very far away…
> “So. Explain again, sister dear…”
> Sweetie Belle winced.
“So like, I heard about this thing where you could get, like, fan-fiction published, right?”
> “Wait. Stop. Right there. Where did you hear this, exactly?”
> Wincing at Twilight Sparkle’s sharply-barked interjection, Sweetie lashed her tail nervously.
“Um. Like, there was this story, ‘Terminator: Animalia’? It’s a crossover between this kids’ book series and a post-apocalyptic story about - anyway, they made a bunch of printings. Like, actual books!”
> Twilight, for her part, simply lay down on the floor again to allow her to re-bury her muzzle between her hooves.
> Rarity steadied herself and took a very deep breath, relying on will alone to allow the headache to subside.
> “And so you concluded that you could send your own… creations-” The word was spat with such vigor as to give the impression she had recently found an inset in her mouth. “-to be printed as well.”
> “Because they’re ‘fan-fiction’.”
“Exactly. They’re fiction, about ponies I am fans of.”
> Snorting and pinning her ears back, Sweetie Belle, pawed at the floor.
“And I even used the money Anonymous set aside for me to do it! I didn’t have to sneak around him or anything!”
> “I… am ruined,” Twilight Sparkle mournfully announced, “the second they receive that package they’ll look through it. They’ll read it. They’ll read all about me getting - getting - tied down and beaten and molested! Who knows what else your filthy mind has thought up done to me, Sweetie Belle, and they’ll read about me liking it, and that’s the worst-”
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> Rarity interjected with a polite cough. “Actually, Twilight, your indignities are hardly the least of our concerns. You see, I am a mare of business, and I happen to know that unlike Equestria, printing is common enough here that the companies have… rules. Rules that are a problem for us.”
>Tail having fallen suddenly still, Sweetie replied with a trembling voice:
> “You see, dear, mostly they refuse to publish any fiction that includes living persons. Or ponies. But if someone does submit something, they would reach out and ask said persons if their permission is given. For us ponies, Sweetie Belle, they ask our owners. That is how I found out. That is why I called both of you here. So let me ask you, Sweetie Belle:”
> Rising to her hooves, Rarity marched - not approached, not even stalked, but marched - to her younger sister’s side, leaning in to touch her nose to Sweetie’s.
> “Who exactly else did you include in this story?”
“Um… oops?”

Sometimes, Vega gives me terrible ideas. Sweetie Belle is a terrible writer; Spitfire is something of a public personality; this is the horrible result. Takes place somewhere prior to F&S 2.
>swib ends up being the number one author of pony smutbooks under her name John Belleman
That was fun
It sounds to me like Swibble needs HER little tushie tanned with the riding crop, next!
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>twig ends up getting a few ideas the story
>package meant for your pony
Spitfire already taking over Anon's role. Soon it will be Spitfire's cargo corp!
>mane somehow already groomed into its trademark swoop
Sleeping face first in the pillow does that.
>wings preened up into smoothness
And a lot of sweat under the blanket does that.
>I’ll shed feathers in your oatmeal
Nice joke!
>hand descending to scratch between her ears
Only if she would stand up higher to get more! My cat does that. Stands on two legs to get more.
>sneaking it in as fiction again
>That okay?
Since when does she ask for permission?
>But I’d say just throw it out. And say ‘no’.
Not even remotely interested what it is?
>line running nearly from cutie mark to cutie mark
That's a long line!
>something for that constantly-running mouth of yours
Well, I was expecting Twi to service Spitfire, not the other way.
>Lavender lips were met by bright yellow ones
(After reading the whole thing:) Poor Swibbie watching so much lesbian action from the two.
>Every moan, whimper, or whine
She will fail miserably.
>we’re going to be having a lot of fun with that crop
Without the crop works too!
>take a listen to this
Anon is going to mock her for days.
>someone wrote me torturing Princess Twilight Sparkle?!
Oh Spitfire, you are too timid.
>“Give me that thing!”
Someone is annoyed.
>Fighting Fire With Fire
At least the author knows how to push Spitfire's buttons.
>“She wrote about the wings?!”
Future Anon will find how to use that info later.
>“You finish it, I’ll finish you!”
>she is up in the old flight engineer’s compartment, above the cabin
Hm, I have a hard time imagine where. I thought the plane only has one level.
Also seems like she knows where to hide.
>Looking at the well-toned leg
Checking her out huh?
>she had left hanging back down (perhaps as something of a warning)
Or for UNF reasons.
>“Careful, I might.”
You know you will have to follow up on this right? Right?
>frankly accurate about her
But in Vega's green Twiggles is a unicorn! Not a princess.
>thundercloud for no particular purpose except to strike it with lighting
>fan-fiction published
>I… am ruined
It only depends on Spitfire now! And it seems Vega's Anon give it a green light to publish this story about his pony.
>That is how I found out.
Oh, so they can save Twilight's esteem. But only if she will be a good girl for a while and does some favors.
>“Who exactly else did you include in this story?”
Only one way to find out!

Seems like the lot of "Lurkernon pls do shorts" which I may or may not have posted finally reached you! More pls.

Thanks for the update!
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A cute
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She'll get her bedhuman. It's only a matter of time.
She is fanning her inviting scent around to awoke a base instinct in her master and capture his attention.

> It turned out Intor didn't want ponies in the tent, but at least she had let them have a couple of animal skin blankets. If they cuddled together, Mayor and Rainy Day were relatively comfortable outside.
> Willow had still tied their ropes to one of the support struts at the entrance, so if they tried to leave they would disturb the tent and wake the residents.
> He knew, Mayor thought, that the mares were clever enough to bite through their ropes, but he also knew they wouldn't try running away again, not after their experience with the wolves.
> Intor probably agreed, especially after her little speech. It had been hard to follow, but she had understood 'sleep' and 'stay', and dutifully repeated those words back to the female.
> After that the two ponies snuggled under the warm blanket and Mayor mused quietly to herself how well they had gotten used to what would have been macabre only two weeks ago.
> They slept undisturbed and Mayor woke up when the air around them was gray with pre-dawn light. The nomad camp around them was quiet, but she saw an occasional biped wandering around on their business.
> She watched them go about their morning routines as she waited for something to happen. The nomads had arrived at their destination, for whatever purpose, so they didn't need the ponies to carry their burdens anymore.
> Mayor wondered what they would do with them now. She also worried a little about Salki, who hadn't come for her the previous evening.
> He was probably busy helping his mother with whatever she had to do as the leader of the group, which meant he might be able to visit that morning. She kept looking around, hoping to see that strange, flat nomad muzzle and his twinkling eyes and warm smile.
> She needed him to translate for her. The fact that the people had at least *some* vegetables was promising, but she had to find out where to get them. It was highly unlikely Intor would feed her tiny supply to the mares, even if the nomads subsisted mostly on meat.
> Rainy Day stirred in her hooves and Mayor cocked an ear, but the other mare just shifted a little and went still again. She had felt decidedly warm, but with how chilly the nights were getting that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, Mayor thought.
> The fever wasn't as high as before, at least, which was a good sign. They still had to be extremely careful with her wing, because every slight bump caused the poor pegasus to whimper or cry out, but at least now it seemed as if she would make it through her ordeal alive.
> With luck the nomads would stay at that camping site for a few weeks at least, so Rainy Day had time to heal before they expected her to haul their stuff again.

> Her fervent wishes were interrupted when Mayor caught sight of a familiar figure making its way toward them.
"Salki!" she called out, but kept her voice low so as not to wake Rainy Day.
> He didn't hear, but he was coming to them anyway, so she just waited. Soon he spotted them and waved his forepaw in greeting. He said some words, but Mayor didn't understand them so she just gave him a slightly puzzled smile.
> The young nomad held up one of his claws in a gesture she had learned meant he wanted her to watch him closely. Then he lay down on the edge of her animal skin and pretended to sleep.
> His jostling woke up Rainy Day, who stretched out her hooves and yawned, but Salki sat up at the same time, smiled at the pegasus and repeated his few words.
> Then he looked at Mayor and said them again.
> She repeated as best she could, trying hard to mimic the pronunciation. Salki nodded happily and lay down again. He feigned sleeping and went as far as to give a small little snore, then sat up again and said the think.
"Oh, so it's like good morning!"
> She did the same and laid her head down on her hooves for a moment, then popped up and said:
"[Good morning!]"
> Salki nodded enthusiastically and patted her on her withers.
"[Thank you.]"
> Then he stood up and beckoned for her to follow. Mayor wanted to go, but she looked at Rainy Day first.
"I'll- um, I think he wants to show me something. Will you be okay?"
> The other mare blinked a few times and her ears twitched from upright to flattened and back. "I guess. Um, is there any water?"
> Mayor looked around, but couldn't spot any of the water skins from the previous evening. She rose to her hooves and let the blanket slide off her. She walked over to the tent, nuzzled the cloth aside, and poked her head in.
> It was dark, but after a moment she saw the shapes of the three inhabitants. Intor was bending over the fire and blowing gently on an ember and Gol was still wrapped in her sleeping bag, but watching her mother.
> Willow was still asleep, at least judging by his even breathing and his closed eyes.
"[Gol? Rainy Day, water, food, please?]"
> At the sound of her voice Intor looked up and asked: "[You ... Rainy Day ...]"
> Her best guess was that the older female wanted to know why Mayor had only mentioned one mare, so she shook her head and tried to explain:
"[Me go Salki. Rainy Day Gol go water?]"
> The young nomad looked at her mother, who gave a single nod, but followed it up with some instructions. Then Intor gave some instructions to Mayor, but she couldn't quite follow them so she pulled her head out of the tent.

> He hurried over and she nudged him past the tent flap. Intor repeated her words and the young male answered, then nodded. Whatever it was, they agreed on it which was fine with Mayor.
> That seemed to settle it and Salki untied her leading rope and gathered it up in his forepaws. Mayor gave him a big smile and extended a hoof for him to start moving.
> They headed out the same way she and Rainy Day had gone with Gol the previous evening and Mayor's ears flattened without her conscious control. They soon came to the spot where the packed dirt was stained and stank of old blood.
> Just beyond was the herd of donkeys, who were braying and pushing at one another anxiously. Mayor's blood ran cold and she hoped she wouldn't have to watch another of them die, but she saw the reason for their agitation.
> Other children, all about Salki's age, were untying the beasts and driving them onward with quick taps of their sticks. They were taking the herd out to pasture to feed, which was a relief.
> All except for a couple of jennies with their foals. No adult nomad was in sight, though, so Mayor relaxed a little. She didn't think the children would slaughter the animals themselves.
> The captive jennies lowed mournfully after the herd and their foals seemed undecided between running after the group and staying with their mothers.
> Mayor didn't know enough language yet to ask for an explanation, so she followed Salki closer and watched. He stopped a short distance away and pointed a claw at the two females. He said two words, neither of which Mayor knew.
> She gave him a puzzled smile and cocked her head to one side in question. Salki didn't respond, but he looked around, obviously waiting for something.
> Soon two young nomad females came, carrying two clay pots. Mayor had seen smaller bits of crockery here and there, mostly to hold precious things like salt or ointment, but these were quite large. The nomads deftly balanced them on their heads, which caused Mayor to stare in amazement.
> Salki said some more things, no doubt explaining what was happening, but Mayor wasn't paying much attention as she watched the newcomers. They brought the pots to the jennies and for a brief, horrifying moment Mayor had an image of trying to capture the donkey's blood as it ran out.
> She pushed the thought away, though her ears did splay before she was able to bring them under control. Salki went closer and she followed a few steps behind.
> The two nomad females called out to some of the males and a few of them came forward to firmly grip the donkeys by their ropes. They needn't have bothered, because the jennies seemed entirely passive, now that the herd was mostly out of sight.

> Mayor Mare suddenly understood when the nomads placed those two pots under the beasts and knelt down behind them.
"Ooh, I get it!"
> "[Yes!]" Salki said. He mimed the motion of grabbing teats and yanking on them, and he said: "[Milking.]" Then he pointed at the pot and said: "[Milk.]"
> Mayor committed the words to memory. Equestrians had cow milk and nopony she had ever heard of would drink donkey milk, but in principle it could be used to round out her and Rainy Day's diet and keep them from dying. She'd much prefer it to meat any day!
> She watched while the two jennies were milked, after which the nomad females grabbed their pots and the males took them after the rest of the herd. They didn't need to prompt them, not with the promise of fresh grass.
> As the nomad youths walked past Salki stopped one of them by putting his claw on her foreleg and jabbered at her a little. She seemed skeptical, but eventually she lowered her pot down so Mayor could look into it.
> "[Milk,]" Salki repeated.
"[Milk,]", she said, which made the female gasp and stare in shock.
> Apparently she was one of those who hadn't heard about the ponies yet. Mayor ignored her and tapped her hoof on the pot itself.
"[Salki, what?]"
> He seemed puzzled and said again: "[Milk.]"
> Mayor shook her head and pointed a hoof at the white liquid inside.
"[Milk,]" she intoned, then tapped the pot itself again and said: "[What?]"
> That made it click and he told her: "[Pot.]"
"[Thank you!]"
> Salki explained some more to the bewildered young female and from the bits and pieces Mayor caught she guessed he was just saying they were special ponies who could learn to talk.
> The nomad still gave the mare a few weird stares, but she seemed to accept the explanation, picked up her pot of milk, and walked off. Mayor wondered what they would do with the milk.
> Maybe the wealthier, more influential nomads would drink it, or maybe they would make cheese, which would last longer. She could ask Salki about it later, but first she had a more urgent need.
"[Come. Food, water, pee.]"
> She still blushed how she'd had to demonstrate one evening to get the word for that last one. Luckily Salki hadn't thought it weird or embarrassing.
> After that she had to somehow get him to understand a much more complex question. She wanted to see where they got their yams and roots. The vague notion she had was that the women went out to pick them, but Mayor didn't know when or where or how.
> Maybe it would happen soon and she could join them. She wouldn't mind working for hers and Rainy Day's meals.

> As they walked off toward the stream Mayor glanced back at the herd of donkeys in the distance. The nomads really were using them. Work, milk and meat. Perhaps it was a good thing the beasts weren't conscious enough to understand their own tragedy.

> ~~~~

> Eventually it had worked. She had had to repeat the words to Salki a few times and even mime digging in the dirt for food, but he understood her request. He was leading her to the middle of the camp and seemed in some hurry.
> That was a shame because Gol was still not back with Rainy Day and they had not met them out at the stream like Mayor had hoped, so she had no way to let her friend know why she was gone.
> Hopefully Rainy Day would just assume Mayor was spending the day with Salki and learning the nomads' language.
> They came to where a group of females, both young and old were setting out and Salki shouted something to them. Mayor caught the word for 'pony' and 'yam', but not much else.
> The group had apparently heard of the mare, but they still looked dubious at whatever Salki was proposing to them. He patted Mayor on the back a few times and that finally convinced them.
> Her best guess was that he had offered her to carry their things and it was confirmed when a few of the younger females were sent to fetch bags and rope. Those words Mayor understood immediately.
> The rest of the group stood around and shuffled their hind legs impatiently until Mayor had her impromptu harness. Salki leaned closer to her and whispered: "[Go ... women ... yams.]"
> She understood and gave him a nod and he passed her leading rope to one of the females. He had to reassure her, possibly telling her that Mayor would help bring back their haul, or maybe that she wouldn't try to run away from them.
"[Good morning!]" she told the nomad, "[Mayor Mare go yam food!]"
> Hopefully it would reinforce whatever Salki was saying about the pony. Her speech raised some eyebrows and caused a murmur in the group, but at least they didn't seem openly fearful.
> Pretty soon they started moving and Mayor paused for long enough to give Salki a quick nuzzle on his foreleg.
> Then she was off with the females.
> They soon passed out of the camp and became lost in the vast, flat emptiness of the steppe. Mayor kept glancing back to remember the way, but then she decided to keep her eye on the sun instead. That would give her a direction.
> The group of nomads paused at a stream to drink, but it was not the same one Mayor knew. This was much further out from the camp.

> In any case, she had no real weight to carry and the path was easy, so the morning turned into quite a pleasant walk. It wasn't long before Mayor had a faint smile on her muzzle and even said a word or two to the nomads when she thought she understood what they were talking about.
> Her comments didn't elicit any replies, but she saw one female nod to herself after, which was a confirmation of her newly-acquired language skills.
> Once, when Mayor spotted a solitary tree in the distance, she suddenly became worried about wildlife, wolves in particular, but she noticed that some of the younger females had spears, just like their men.
> They were obviously ready to defend themselves if needed.
> After about two hours of walking, as near as Mayor could judge, they reached their destination. The bit of steppe looked just like the rest of it, but apparently this place was different and the older females in the group recognized it.
> They stopped, drank from their water skins, then began their work. The nomads spread out and bent down as they examined the grass from up close. Mayor didn't have much choice but to follow the one holding her rope, until the nomad stopped and exclaimed.
> Mayor hurried closer to see what it was. The female was pointing her claw at a plant, which was growing in the middle of grass. She said something to Mayor and the mare thought she recognized the word.
"[Roots?]" she asked.
> "[Yes! Yes!]" the nomad said back and gripped the stem of the plant. She scrabbled at the ground with her fingers, then gave up and plucked her stone knife from her belt. It took her a few seconds of hacking at the tough ground, then she pulled out the plant's roots.
> As Mayor watched, the female cut off a bit and put it in her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully, then nodded to herself and showed Mayor. She repeated: "[Roots,]" then pointed her claw at the ground and said something else.
> Mayor gave her a blank stare and the female heaved an exasperated sigh. She moved forward and grabbed another stem, one which had been all but concealed under the grass.
"What? There was another one? Uh, [roots]?"
> The female repeated her word over and over as she hacked at the ground with her stone knife. Mayor understood this time.
"[Oh, dig. Thanks. Roots, dig.]"
> She looked around for another, but couldn't spot anything. It probably took some training to be able to recognize the plants and the mare gave her new nomad friend a pleading gaze.
> Once again the female found a plant and pointed it out to Mayor, but this time she didn't pull it out herself. "[Dig root,]" she said.

> It didn't look too complicated, so Mayor just grabbed the stem in her teeth and scooped the roots out with a hoof. Earth pony strength came to her aid and she soon had the morsel out of the ground. She shook it a few times to get rid of the excess dirt, then laid it down.
> She had to fiddle a bit to get one of the bags untied, but eventually she had the root safely stowed away. She gave the nomad female a self-satisfied smile, then asked for the other thing.
"[Yam, please? Where dig yam?]"
> It worked and the nomad stood and looked around. She exclaimed softly and pointed. Mayor just barely had time to grab the bag in her teeth and follow. She realized that she was holding an animal skin sack in her mouth, but pushed past it. Food was more important.
> A few steps brought them to another plant and this time the leaves were taller and clearly stood out of the grass. Mayor thought she could recognize that if she saw it. Once again the female showed her how to dig out several large yams.
"[Thanks.] I think I got it."
> Unfortunately Mayor Mare had no way to assure the nomad that she wouldn't run away and get her to let her rope go, but on the other hoof she would benefit from following her closely and learning more about how to spot these plants.
> She noticed that the female had left one of the smaller yams on the ground and she pointed at it while saying something Mayor didn't understand. After a few moments and a confused look from the mare, the nomad sighed and bent to pick the tuber up. She put it in Mayor's bag.
"[Oh! Thank you!]" the mare trilled.
> She picked the bag up in her teeth again and looked at the nomad female to see where she would lead them next.
> At that pace, they would need quite some time to fill up their sacks, but that was because teaching the mare had taken some time. Mayor wondered how the other nomads were doing.
> She still had all the extra sacks, perhaps the others would come and switch them once theirs were full. Mayor didn't mind carrying their haul back, not if they let her keep some of the yams for herself and Rainy Day.
> It would be hard work, and digging around the earth for yams and roots promised to be dirty and uncomfortable, but needs must, she told herself. Her and Rainy Day's life depended on it.
> Besides, she could not let a bunch of primitive nomads show up an Equestrian!

Apologies in advance for the poor editing on this one. I had to do a bit of a rush job due to long working hours the past few days. Also laziness.

In any case, things are definitely looking up for the heroes of our story and soon everything will be satisfactorily resolved. Right?!
Paste: https://ponepaste.org/5389
Mayor working to earn her keep is a brilliant idea. She's gonna need to pass her language knowledge onto Rainy Day though, and fast... otherwise if they get separated, Rainy is screwed.
I could see it happening.

>Twig ends up getting a few ideas
>Needs to find a pony with wings to try them on
>Corner's the neighborhood pegasus
>"Okay, don't panic, but I need to try some things..."

Since they were briefly a media thing at the end of F&S, I figure they've probably had lots of "exposes" in shitty media sites.

>Well, I was expecting Twi to service Spitfire, not the other way.
Later. (Now I might have to write that.)

>(After reading the whole thing:) Poor Swibbie watching so much lesbian action from the two
She learns much from them. Sadly has no chance to implement. Imagine what Swibble would write if she found out Spitfire had a man too...

>Future Anon will find how to use that info later.
Yes, he will.

>Hm, I have a hard time imagine where. I thought the plane only has one level.
Kinda. The bit that supports the wing actually has an open space in it. Originally it was for the flight engineer, right up there between the engines. Now it's just kind of... there. Good for nesting pegasi!

>You know you will have to follow up on this right? Right?
Careful, I might too.
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>Bump before bed
>possessive mares
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Some pones know exactly what they want.
More like
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>only bought her to be a cuddlebuddy
>but she wants to help around the house
>physically impossible to say no to this face
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Let me try.

*ahem* n- n-n n- no problem!

Dammit, you're right...
>didn't want ponies in the tent
Sad times. Probably because they not used the "look as cute as possible" trick. But I don't think the nomads know what cute is.
>worried a little about Salki
Awww, someone is bonding.
>people had at least *some* vegetables was promising
Now she only has to show them how to grow them instead of just collecting.
>extremely careful with her wing
Poor girl must be in constant pain. As someone who never broken any bone I don't know how it feels. Compared to this only a week ago I had to euthanase my cat due to a broken leg.
>Will you be okay?
Aaand leaving her again. What does Rainy Day do all day?
>Um, is there any water?
Rainy Day is not even trying to learn the language.
Kumis coming right up!
That means they can maybe cook!
>good thing the beasts weren't conscious enough
And hopefully the nomads will understand sooner than later that ponies are conscious.
>give Salki a quick nuzzle
She sure sends some mixed signals. Animals do this, have she seen the nomads doing this?
>two hours of walking
That's not near. Why did they pick that spot for the camp if its far from basically anything?
>but couldn't spot anything
Isn't she farsighted?
>"[Dig root,]" she said
Good, more humans trying to communicate!
>She realized that she was holding an animal skin
Bound to happen.
>but needs must, she told herself
Hopefully they give enough of the acquired food to them.

The last post (>>37838499) is a copy of the first one.

Thanks for the update!
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Horsie bedtime
imagine the smell
That is so goddamn cute, holy fuck

Yeah, I'm half-considering getting some kind of mental disorder so i could get a comfort pony legally...
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Be mareful what you wish for
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Pone is staying up past her bedtime.
Late night b-movies are too tempting.
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We need more scoot
Fuck yeah finally time to write
Good luck anon.
may pony be with me
>buy poner to motivate you to writefag
>buy second poner to writefag for you
>regular updates achieved
Have we solved the mystery of AWF?
>You dig around on the shelf
>"So uh...are you a leather or fluffy straps kind of gir-..mare? Is mare the right word?"
>A very….very unmarelike guffaw escapes your lips followed by several sputters and coughs
"E-Excuse me?"
>He shrugs with an impish look on his face
>"Well I wanna use the right word."
>Your eyes just about bulge out of your head
>The absolute nerve of this one
"That uh… I umm."
>Noticing the look on your face, his demeanor sours
>You're not really offended just caught off guard
>"I'm sorry Chrys, I'm just used to messing with Tia."
"It's fine."
>Its not like you haven't had infinitely worse things said to you
>He looks back at the racks of collars and harnesses, his face still dower
>That fight with Celestia must be eating at him
>N-not that you care
>It's in your best interest to keep your main food source happy
>He lets out a long sigh
>You muster up an ounce of courage
"How long do you insist on pouting like that?"
"That sad look you're giving me. I'm neither a filly nor so fragile. Believe me, I've heard much worse."
>You mare up and walk around to his other side, lightly rubbing your side against his back as you do
>You can feel his mood improve a little as a tiny snort passes through his nose
>He fiddles with with the harness in his hands
>It's some sort of leathery material dyed a deep turquoise
>It's actually rather close to the color of your mane and stomach banding
"What do you have there?"
>Your words inadvertently spill out as a light coo
>The kind you'd use to comfort a hatching
>For now you let it slide, but it's not a mistake you'll make twice
>He lets out another bemused huff of air from his nose
>”Not a bad color eh?”
“I suppose not.”
>A grin is shared between the two of you
>You strut a little bit close and he helps you put it on
>It's a tad snug but not in a bad way
>You walk a small circle as Anon watches you
“Hmm, see something you like?”
>His cheeks fill with a light tint of embarrassment
>”Alrighty, don't get ahead of yourself there queeny.”
>He sure knows what buttons to push to inflate your ego
>You both giggle like school fillies
>"So you like that one?"
>His magical digits rake and massage across the back of your neck making your head shake a little from a small shiver
>Damn him
"I think it'll do just fine."
>"Of course you'd like the most expensive one."
>He gives you a sly toothy grin
"I simply accepted your offer. It's up to you really. "
>He laughs
>"You got me there. I think you deserve something nice.”
>He scratches your chin
>”Alrighty, now that you're all dolled up we should probably move on.”
>You're absolutely not blushing
>All this love is gonna go to your head at this rate
>Not that you're complaining
>This is the best you've felt in a long time, in either world
>It begins to dawn on you that love earned far surpasses love taken
>You kind of wish you had learned that earlier
”I am not ‘Dolled up’”
>A few of his fingers scratch at the top of your head
>”Maybe, maybe not.”
>He motions for you to follow him and you oblige
>Next you make your way over to find some toiletries
>Surprisingly they have stuff for ponies and other equestrian creatures, rather than just earth animal equivalent
>”So, whaddya wanna smell like?”
>You furrow your brow at him making him chuckle
“That's an...odd question.”
>He laughs again
>”Yeah that's fair. “
>You look at the bottles upon bottles that fill the shelves
>The names are absolutely nonsensical
"Mango berry blast, foxcrest, nightpanther? Who names these?"
>"I wish I knew, they probably get paid an absurd amount for it too."
"People get paid for this?"
>His warm hand rubs your withers
>"You'd be surprised what people make money doing."
>He flips open on of the containers and takes a whiff before
>"Here, try this."
>He pokes the bottle in your direction and you take a whiff
>Its horrendously sweet causing you to recoil and cough
>”Not a fan?”
“It's a bit….sweet.”
>”Alright..uhhhh how about something ...flowery?”
>His hand hovers over a few bottles before grabbing another one and taking a whiff before holding it out for you
>It's also not great and anon is clearly trying to hide his mirth at your displeasure
>"C'mon there's gotta be something you like, You didn't seem to have an issue with mine. Did you?"
>"Come to think of it...no."
>He rubs his chin and you can see the gears turning in his head
>He looks around for a moment before scooching over and grabbing a bottle from a different section
>"Try this."
>You oblige and much to your surprise it's far better than the previous.
>The smell is much more sharp and less sweet
"Better...What changed?"
>Anon points up at the sign denoting that it's the male section
>You aren't sure what this says about you but it's leaps and bounds better than the previous few
>"Wanna go with this or keep looking?"
"It's fine, I'm not particularly picky."
>"You say that."
>You scoff
"I am not picky."
>He ruffles your mane
>"Said everyone picky ever. Anyway, I've got one more thing to grab and we can skedaddle."
>You share a chuckle as you walk up to a small machine labeled 'Tag Maker'
>Oh right
>Something about seeing him prepare to tag you of all things reminds you of your situation
>Regardless of how Anon treats you, you're still property at the end of the day
>You feel a twinge in your chest
>Perhaps you got a little too comfortable too fast
>"You alright?"
“Hmm? Yeah.”
>”What's up?”
>You don't quite feel like trauma dumping here and now
>Or ever really
>If nothing else to save the minute amount of pride you have left
“It’s nothing.”
>The warm sensation of his fingers find their way beneath your jaw
"Just… forgot what I am for a bit it seems."
>His hand finds its way between your ears as he fiddles with the machine.
>"How so?"
>You sigh as you watch his other hand tap away at the letters on the screen
>He stops and looks over at you with more than a modicum of concern on his face
>"What's wrong?"
>A realization hits you that your outburst may have been a bit… stronger than intended based on the slight panic in Anon's voice
>You clear your throat
"I uh… just thought that.."
>Spit it out you insignificant bug
"Could you just leave it as Chrys? Please?"
>Your face feels like it's on fire
>Anon stares at you with raised eyebrows for what feels like eons
>Even as old as you are, time has never felt so slow
"Say something!"
>You stamp a hoof down making him…
>He's not mad but you hesitate to call his laugh nervous.
>"Yeah I can do that."
>He types a bit more, which you can only assume is his address/contact information
>A few moments of silence pass
>”So uh, any reason you don't want your full name? I mean, if you don't mind me asking.”
“Anon, I haven't been a queen in a very very long time, and you're the first to call me Chrysalis in almost as long."
>A long exhale escapes from Anon's lips as he scratches the back of his head
>"Damn… I'm sorry Chrys."
"Don't be, I've earned my misfortune."
>He leans down and gently hooks an arm behind your neck, lightly scratching at your withers
>His warm fingers lightly dig against your pliable carapace and massage the muscles beneath
>Your wings let out a quiet chirp
>You probably should feel a little embarrassed but you don't
>"You gotta stop saying you deserve whatever's happend with you."
>You start to speak up but he cuts you off
>"Even if you 'deserve' it."
>You feel like you should hate this
>Yet it's not like you're trapped in the hug
>If you wanted to pull away you could
>"You okay?"
>Are you?
"I suppose so."
>His arm squeezes you
>"That's not a yes."
"I suppose it's not. It isn't a no either."
>A reassuring smirk greets you as your eyes meet his
>Whether you want to or not you smile back
>How does he do it?
>"What do you want me to do about it, hmm?"
>Hearing that sentence said with what you assume is absolute sincerity catches you off guard
"What do you mean?"
>The machine chirps and with his free hand he grabs the freshly printed tag
>He looks at it for a moment before his gaze returns to you
>"Exactly what I said."
>You chuckle
"Such an insincere way to ask an honest question. No tact in that head of yours."
>"Maybe not but you've got a big grin on your face, and feel comfortable enough to tease me back for once."
>Your hoof flies up to cover your mouth making Anon real back in silent laughter
>"Seems like I'm doing something right."
>After a quick, soft pat on your barrel he stands up and leads you over to purchase the collection of new supplies
>He's an odd one
>Not that you aren't any less odd
>He just makes you feel...
>A way
>You really can't describe it
>Not to mention it almost feels like he wants you to miss behave
>The two of you leave the store and take a seat on a nearby bench
>"So, put any thought into where you wanna go?"
"If… If I may be frank for a moment-"
>"Sure, but only for a moment, these tags are crazy expensive and I dont wanna buy another one."
>You suppress a laugh and slowly exhale.
>Anon winks at you.
"Be honest, what is it you really want from me?"
>He just shrugs
"It has to be something right? I just don't understand what you get from pampering me like this when I haven't earned it."
>"It's just fun for me. Seeing you open up a little by little is cute I guess."
>Did it suddenly get warmer outside?
>"Plus if I'm busy helping fix your problems I don't have to deal with mine."
God fuck
Once again sorry for the long delay
Writing is fucking hard
I'll try to be more regular but no big promises
I will finish this story if it kills me

Updated ponebin
it was a nice bit of green
Cyoot story. More detailed feedback later!
I would like to purchase one (1) sentient horse please.
u gonna finish that ?
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1 horse coming right up!
Glad to see more
(4) boop
what an absolute cutie
She looks so soft
Yo, this pon is fuckin adorable and my day has been brightened for seeing her. Thank you, anon!
So cute I won't even spank her with the brushie
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Rarity needs to be paddled.
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>tfw no maidmare to dress up in different cute poofy dresses each day
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These horses are gonna get locked in their rooms until they're back to normal.
I'm too paternal for this shit.
You and me both, anon. I just want to fall asleep with my daughteru filly snoozing on my chest.
Emergency Bugbump!
Holy shit
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>sundown got a filly-complex
Bug needs love badly
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Vega writing Spitfire when?
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Careful what you wish for
I wonder if Chyrasils gets a taste of "Anon being happy to dress her up" will she let him do it.
I don't want to lewd a bedcolt... I want to lewd bedfillies
What if your bedcolt wants to double team your bedfilly?
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also, we have to create the next thread for awf to post
Just finished part 2 on ponepaste paste is there more
Why would you tell me about a story that has not been updated in serval months

I just read it and want more
Why would you subject me to this
Writefag was here a month or two ago, said a 4 part update is ready, posted 2 or 3 then disappeared again.
lets create a new thread
Is there a writefag ready to go?
Are you even following the thread?
But if a writefag doesn't start the thread with green I'm gonna call you a huge nerd.
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New ponies for sale
I have not seen this one yet.
I just checked desu archive and did not see anything under their name since September did they change their name

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