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Previous thread: >>39104710
Archive Link:
- https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/39104710/

>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:
Shiny and Corona (Shining Armor & OC) by Somewritefag
- https://ponepaste.org/3345
- https://ponepaste.org/3346
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
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One-Shot Stories [47]: https://ponepaste.org/1584
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Ponepaste: https://ponepaste.org/user/SlavePonyGeneral
Nothing like the smell of a new thread
I have two questions.
Who is that mare(stallion) in the OP?
What the fuck do we have a discord group for?
>Who is that mare(stallion) in the OP?
Corona, she was part of two very influential stories in the early days of the thread.
>What the fuck do we have a discord group for?
Offtopic discussion and sharing porn. We used to have an irc ages ago but that was awkward to use.
Ah okay. Damn 7 years is a long time. Congrats.
>off topic discussion
Do you all know each other in here or something?

> The hunting ritual began innocuously. Mayor Mare had to stand next to two other nomads, while Willow rushed around from group to group to make sure everything was to his liking.
> She and the others near her were admonished, quite strictly, to be quiet while the rest of the group got in place. Some of the older, more experienced hunters took a line of people in either direction and when Mayor whispered a question to the woman beside her, she was told that the nomads would sneak around in a large circle until they met on the other side.
> The ground was quite flat, and her line of sight was only broken by a few bushes and the occasional spindly tree, so Mayor could keep her eye on the hunters for a long while until they were lost in the blur.
> She still didn't quite understand how this was intended to work, but the sheer discipline of the people fascinated her. Even the children were almost completely quiet. Some held the arm of the adult next to them, while others were gripping their cudgels and sticks with both hands. They all watched the line of people which snaked away through the tall grass.
"[What will happen?]" Mayor whispered to the woman at her side.
> She didn't remember the name, but the nomad seemed familiar. She thought she'd seen her around when they went to dig for tubers in the autumn.
> "[We wait until everyone is in place. Until the circle is complete. Someone will come tell us.]"
> Mayor had gathered that much on her own, and the nomad hadn't really answered her question, so she had to break the silence once more.
"[Then what?]"
> There was no answer right away and the mare thought that maybe she'd pushed her luck too far. She cast a quick glance at the woman, but luckily she didn't seem angry, just slightly baffled.
> "[Don't you know? Didn't anyone tell you what to do?]"
> Mayor just mutely shook her head.
> That admission made the nomad sigh a little, but she lifted her hand where she held a club. "[When the circle is complete, the animals can't escape anymore. They'll come tell us and we'll move forward, so we tighten the circle, right?]"
> The hunt sounded a lot more thought out than just a silly ritual and Mayor's ears wilted. She swallowed a lump through her suddenly dry throat. The woman kept talking: "[We'll move closer together, and then someone will drop out of the line so we can keep going. More and more people will get out as the circle gets smaller, understand?]"

> Her companion didn't seem to notice her stutter. "[Good. The animals are hiding, but they will try to bolt when we're too close. Be ready to-]" the woman began, but then noticed that Mayor didn't have a weapon and was, in fact, walking on all four hooves. She gave it some thought, then reached the same conclusion as Willow: "[I guess just kick. That'll work. Try not to let any past you, okay?]"
> "[Of course she wont,]" came Willow's voice from behind her and Mayor nearly jumped in sudden fright. She hadn't heard the man approach at all! She flinched again when he patted her back with his hand. "[Meyermer will hunt with us, or I will beat her after. Mother said she is to stay in the circle until the last!]"
> That dashed the last bit of hope Mayor had been entertaining. The woman had said people would fall out of the line as the circle got smaller, which would have been her salvation.
"[I-, m- I'm not going to kill...]"
> That made Willow chuckle in amusement and he lightly smacked her rump with a spear, which sent Mayor a step forward. "[Get back in line,]" Willow said and Mayor could swear there was a sadistic gleam in his eye. "[You'll do what you're told. The camp is hungry and we need meat.]"
> His insistence was coming from nothing more than a desire to make her uncomfortable or hurt her. He'd guessed that she didn't like hunting and killing, and was making her do it simply because he could. What was worse, he had both Intor and Darga on his side!
> The young nomad's attitude was even making the others uncomfortable, and the woman next to Mayor spoke up: "[Willow, if she doesn't want to, just let her drop out of the line before the animals start running, why does it matter-]"
> "[Shut up!]" the hunter barked, though he kept his gaze fixed on Mayor until she couldn't help but look away. "[Mother said and the chieftain agrees! She'll hunt with us if she wants to be one of us! We don't have a use for weaklings!]"
> "[But-]" someone else began, this time on Mayor's other side. It was a male nomad, slightly older, but not one of the hunters. Mayor thought he might have been one of the craftsmen of the camp, she thought she remembered seeing him with Darkhan a lot.
> Unfortunately even he couldn't dissuade Willow and fell immediately silent when Willow jerked his arm as if to strike the man.
> "[I'm leading this circle hunt. Do what I say or you won't get any meat today, understand!? Meyermer will hunt with us!]"
> The two weren't ready to argue. Hunters were held in high esteem, even though Mayor knew for a fact that more than half of the nomads' food came from what the women gathered and the meat they smoked in autumn, and the grain they traded.

> Hunting was just... revered among these people! The more dangerous the animal, the more exalted the hunter who brought it down. As their chief hunter, Willow commanded significant respect, which he easily augmented with a healthy dose of fear.
> Mayor licked her dry lips and tried her best splay-eared, vulnerable pony look on Willow. She didn't like him, but distaste and pride were easy to ignore by now.
"[Please- it is not the pony way. I c-can't.]"
> "[Get back in line! I'll go with you to make sure you do it right!]" Willow snapped. "[We're about to start.]"
> He tapped her flank with his stick again to further strengthen his point and Mayor reluctantly stepped back in the line. She kept swiveling her ears from forward to back, and then forward again.
> The animals would come from up ahead, but Willow was standing uncomfortably close behind her. Her ears just mirrored her inner conflict. She couldn't decide which scared her more: the impending brutality, or the savage glee Willow showed when he could make her participate in it.
> No one said anything else, despite Mayor's hopes that one of the other nomads might come to her rescue. They didn't like it either and were nervous about what was going to happen. She could hear the woman shifting from foot to foot, and the man on the other side kept switching his cudgel from one hand to the other.
> No one spoke up and eventually one of the children came running from one side. "[Go! Go! We started!]" he kept saying in a strange kind of whispering shout. Where he passed, the line of nomads began to slowly move forward.
> The messenger ran past them and Mayor took a small step even before Willow tapped her rump with his spear. She didn't complain about it, because her heart was hammering like crazy and it felt as if her stomach had sunk to her hooves, and she wasn't sure she could trust her voice.
> All she could do was whisper a silent prayer to Celestia that there weren't very many animals in the circle. There would be no escape, she saw. Already the line of nomads was unbroken and the way they were hefting their weapons said they wouldn't let anything pass them alive.
> The youngest children, the ones who didn't have any weapons, were pushed out of the line first. Some complained, but others simply walked a short distance behind the main group. A few of the more industrious ones picked up stones.
> Nothing else happened as the large circle of bodies closed. Mayor looked up ahead, but she couldn't recognize the other side, maybe because of her poor vision, or maybe because of the tall grass between them. It was a pretty large circle, though. She glanced to the left and right and tried to estimate the curvature.

> "[Eyes front!]" Willow snapped and the stick smacked her side. Mayor growled and considered bucking him, but she knew it would create many problems, especially after the last time Willow had accused her of attacking him. He'd have a field day with her punishment.
> She could almost *feel* his insolent smirk when all she did was snort and faced the direction they were walking.
> It went on for a while longer, and Mayor was beginning to hope that the whole thing was bust after all, when there came a cheer from one side. She risked a quick glance, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.
"[What was that?]" she asked the woman beside her.
> "[I didn't see. Someone caught something,]" she wagered her educated guess. It meant her hope probably wouldn't pan out, and Mayor flattened her ears some more.
> Soon there was more shouting, from a different direction. A few children squealed in excitement.
> It was beginning. She thought the circle was getting really small by then, but she still couldn't see the other side. There was still plenty of bushes and grass between them, where a lot of small, furry critters might be hiding.
> The nomads were beginning to yell almost constantly. Cheering, laugher, wordless shouting. Some smacked their weapons together and a few others were singing.
> Mayor couldn't understand why, but she soon figured out. The noise, most of it directed into the circle, frightened any animals which were trying to lay low in the grass.
> Creatures began to bolt in random directions, trying to escape from the nearest source of noise and commotion. Except there was no escape, the circle of bodies was too tight.
> The nomads stood so close together that they barely had room to swing their weapons.
> A gray rabbit bolted straight toward Mayor and she flinched away and closed her eyes. There was a dull thud, followed quickly by a smack of Willow's spear on her flank. It stung and she opened her eyes in shock.
> The rabbit was gone, but the woman to Mayor's side hefted her club and she could see a splash of vivid red at the end. Mayor glanced behind and saw a motionless scrap of gray fur.
> "[Focus!]" Willow was yelling. "[Don't look away or I'll beat you harder! Hunt, you stupid beast!]"
> He obviously didn't understand just how idiotic his words were, and Mayor didn't feel like explaining it to him. She had spotted more movement ahead, flashes of brown and yellow fur in the grass.
> A few ran away from her, but several of the creatures headed toward them. Mayor let out a squeak of fear, followed by a pained whinny as Willow hit her again. This time she hadn't looked away, but he obviously wanted to make sure.

> The critters had noticed the line and had stopped in fright. They milled around in confusion for a while, then bolted in the other direction. Mayor breathed a sigh of relief, but it didn't last very long. Something else was coming.
> She didn't know what these animals were called and to her eyes they looked like large rats, or maybe small beavers. They were brown and gray, some with yellow patches and a few with darker fur. There were several different species.
> She recognized rabbits and marmots just as one of each sprinted toward her. Maybe because she wasn't as tall as a nomad they thought the line was broken in this place? There was not time to guess and Mayor shied away from the desperate critters.
> Willow was yelling something and she felt the thud of his stick on her rump again, but she hardly noticed it. She couldn't tear her eyes away as the world seemed to slow.
> The craftsman to her side had leaned forward and was swinging his club down. It inched its way as if the air was made of treacle. The rabbit was in mid-jump and was trying to twist away, but it was too late.
> She thought she heard a distinct crunch as the weapon crushed the little animal's skull. A few droplets struck her muzzle and Mayor jerked her head away, too late.
> On her other side, there was another sickening thud and a squeak of such pain and terror that it pierced right into her heart. She couldn't prevent her eyes from seeking it out.
> The marmot was crawling around in a circle, its hind legs broken and useless. Mayor's stomach heaved and she tried to keep it down, but the woman simply brought her cudgel around again. This time she didn't miss and the squeal was cut short with a definitive crunch.
> Mayor couldn't help it any longer and her lunch came back up. The bile in it felt like acid on her tongue, but she didn't care. She hardly even felt Willow's thwacks with the stick as he urged her to keep going.
> In the end he kicked her savagely in the rear and Mayor's legs moved almost without her conscious volition. She walked forward, stepped in her vomit, and was quickly past the corpses of the two animals. The two nomads to each side had slowed a little to keep the line intact.
> The centre of the circle was mayhem and bedlam. Animals ran here and there, looking for a way to escape only to turn back when they faced the line of cheering, celebrating nomads.
> It was a slaughter.
> So much blood.
> Mayor had never seen so much blood in her life.
> In every direction nomads held clubs, and spears, and knives, dripping with red gore. Some of them were splatted by it, others had wiped their bloody hands on their tunics, leaving gruesome handprints.

> There was no time to look as more animals came their way. Mayor wanted to stop, to fall back, but Willow was there, prodding and kicking and hitting her to keep her moving. He was yelling commands and obscenities at her, but Mayor had long since stopped listening.
> To her side, the woman was silent, aside from an occasional grunt of effort as she swung her weapon. The man on her other side sometimes hummed to himself in rhythm to the larger song some of the nomads were now shouting from all around.
> Their clubs swung and hit again and again. Not every strike was true, but most of them inflicted injuries. Sometimes a creature, wounded, would slip past them, through Mayor's legs, but she heard the children behind her laugh as they caught it. There was a crowd of them behind her now, happy to kill whatever she let past.
> A quick glance behind showed just how red in the face Willow was. He was brandishing his spear, but Mayor still couldn't understand what he was saying.
> She was in shock.
> Her fetlock was red, and something wet and warm was sliding down the side of her neck. her muzzle was splatted from all the times when the nomads to her either side reached over and hit animals heading for the perceived safety of the smaller pony.
> She kept walking in a daze, eyes darting this way and that. She watched the orgy of death and tragedy and it was all too much. She couldn't really understand what was happening anymore.
> The woman clubbed a rat-like thing in front of Mayor, but she missed. The thing squeaked and tried to crawl away, but it was stunned and couldn't make its legs work. It flopped this way and that.
> Willow's stick hit the side of her head then, and Mayor finally understood his words. "[Kill it! Meyermer, kill it before it gets away! KILL IT NOW!]"
> Still in a kind of trance she lifted up her hoof and hesitated. She was about to put it down beside the creature, but Willow jumped over her and pushed her down with all his weight. Mayor lost her balance and had to put her hoof down quickly, or she would fall.
> There was something hard under her foot, but it crunched and became soft. The squeal ended.
> She stopped and raised her leg to inspect. There was almost no gore, but her frog was covered in blood.
> Then Mayor looked at the rat-thing. It was no longer moving and its head wasn't the right shape. Blood trickled freely from its mouth.
> Again the young hunter kicked her rump and Mayor took a step forward. She lost sight of the little animal.
> There were more. The ground was alive with small creatures, rushing this way and that, panicking. The nomads' clubs and spears never stopped moving. A second circle was starting to form behind the first, because there were just too many escaping critters.

> Mayor watched a bunny hopping past her. When it was right in front of her, Willow's spear stabbed down from somewhere above and pinned it to the ground through its midriff. It began to squeal in pain.
> That cry dragged across her nerves like a rusty saw, and Mayor realized she was screaming too. Tears flowed unimpeded down her muzzle.
> She did the most merciful thing she could, but she didn't look as she stomped. The smaller scream ended, but her own wail rose in pitch.
> Willow slapped her rump with his hand as he reached over to retrieve his spear. "[That one! Get that one!]"
> Something snapped inside her. Everything was covered in blood, including herself. None of it meant anything, it was just there.
> Mayor lashed out with her foreleg and belt bone snap. She didn't look where the thing landed and sought out another.
> Willow was still yelling, but now he sounded jubilant. He wasn't beating her anymore.
> She looked for another scrap of brown fur.
> Swinging clubs and panicking animals all around her.

So yeah. Wow. This one was extremely interesting to write. The aftermath will be even more so, and I'm looking forward to the challenge.

Paste: https://ponepaste.org/7856
Wow, brutal. Pretty sick to force someone who doesn't even eat meat to do this just because. Clearly they didn't need her for the circle. Not even a little bit.
circle is a pretty stupid hunting technique though. Needs way too many people. But I have no idea how they hunted back then either.
I felt with major mare in this one. Someone needs to hug that mare. <3
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>not knowing who Corona is

Read the beginning of Slaventure by Lurkernon, and Shiny and Corona by somewritefag.
>her line of sight was only broken by a few bushes
If not then her line of sight was just a huge blurry mess.
>Didn't anyone tell you what to do?
It was of no importance. Only important thing was they will beat her if she disobeys.
>More and more people will get out
I still find it strange that there are way more people in this camp than I imagine.
>Willow's voice from behind her
And the resident asshole arrived.
>desire to make her uncomfortable or hurt her
Definitely. And to assert dominance.
>he had both Intor and Darga on his side
I'm not sure about the later one.
>We don't have a use for weaklings!
The weakling who just "invented" their best weapon.
>Willow commanded significant respect
I wish a stray arrow would hit him in the head.
>Willow tapped her rump with his spear
Mayor will need to find a way to make Willow regret this later.
>considered bucking him
Please please please kick him unconscious.
>but she soon figured out
Time to make some noise, so the animals won't run towards Mayor.
>I'll beat you harder! Hunt, you stupid beast!
Mayor, time to try out what those two rear hooves are capable of.
>A few droplets struck her muzzle
Not the first time, but different circumstances.
>and her lunch came back up
Damn, not turning around and aiming at Willow? Missed opportunity.
>never seen so much blood
Yes she did, when carrying Bakar.
Called it.
>Willow jumped over her and pushed her down
Damn. I was expecting something like this but not in this way.
>Mayor realized she was screaming too
Where is Salki when needed?
>she didn't look as she stomped
A new beast were born.
>and sought out another, She looked for another
And what a beast. Be aware Willow.

Thanks for the update!
Most of the writefags do. Not so sure about the readers and lurkers.
For what it's worth, thread content practically never gets discussed there beyond simply linking to a post and saying "hey check this out" or something along those lines. Nothing that should be in the thread is getting posted in the server at the thread's expense. We're just shitposting about unrelated stuff and occasionally saying "pony wears the saddle" or "pony needs a spank" or "give pony bath" or some other minor SPG-ish post like that.
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Maid is grump
Apply scritchy to earses.
Always works.
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I got some new Lithia for today's freeday. It's a bit experimental and I still have to proof read it. Will post later.
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She needs a sandvich! Sandvich make heavy strong!
Om nom nom...
Ah, moist and delicious.
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I miss her

Lithia - Part ?
After getting into a little argument with her slave master's other mare, Lithia is forced to sleep outside in chill autumn night. She wakes up to a place that doesn't seem quite right.
This update is a bit experimental.

>You open your eyes.
>It's still nighttime.
>The sky is pitch black except for a big red disk tinting your surroundings a dark red.
Nervously, you look around.
>It's hard to make out details in the low light with everything tinted red, but you still seem to be under the tree in Grey's garden.
>Only something is... is wrong.
>Leaves rustle as they fall off your rising body.
>You breathe in through your nose, trying to make sense of what is happening.
>A warm breeze carries a faint smell of cinnamon towards you.
>It seems to come from the unlit house.
>The wooden facade is tinted red by the weird sun and interspersed with empty, dark windows.
>Unsure of what to do, you approach the house.
>As you trot over the grass, you give your mane a quick hoof run through to make it somewhat presentable.
>With a sinking heart, you realize that your barret is missing.
>Desperate, you search through your mane.
>In the dim red light, it's super tough to make out any details.
>The increasingly metallic taste in your mouth adds to your inner panic.
>Then you remember.
>Relieved, you spit the barret into your hoof and put it back in its rightful place in your mane.
>You feel a little less lost now.
>To your surprise, the terrace door is open, letting you peer inside the almost completely dark hallway.
>For a moment, you hesitate at the threshold before scraping all your courage together and entering the building.
Inside, the smell of cinnamon grows stronger.
>Stepping on a creaky linoleum board, you realize how quiet everything is.
>No car engines, no birds, no anything.
>Where is everyone?
>Should you try calling for help, or would Grey be mad if you woke him up? Is he even here?
>You walk down the dark corridor with its otherworldly red shine.
>A couple of steps, and you come across the door to the basement.
>Outside light from a nearby window gives it a red highlight.
>The door stands a crack wide open.
>Through the crack creeps a strong smell of cinnamon.
>Has this something to do with what Grey was doing down there yesterday?
>The door gives way with a quiet squeal.
>The red light does not reach fully down. The bottom part of the stairs recedes into impenetrable darkness.
>The smell is stronger than ever now.
>Its sickly sweetness almost overwhelms you.
>With your heart pounding, you take a careful hoofstep down the first step.
>It doesn't creak, and after a moment of listening with perked ears, you feel emboldened to take the next step.
>Then another.
> Then another.
> Then another.
> Then another.
> Then another.
> Then another.
"Please don't Lithia."
>Startled, you shriek, and your heart skips several beats.
>You turn around as fast as possible.
>A fair distance up the stairs behind you, a bat is perched on the open basement door.
>His blue eyes glow in the red darkness.
>Your shock turns into anger.
>"D-don't scare me like that!"
>Exhaling slowly, you feel a sense of relief though. You are no longer alone.
Suddenly, the realization hits.
>If he is here, then this must be a dream!
---"Yes and no.", the bat replies to your thoughts.
"Let's just go somewhere nicer, yes?", you beg.
"This place... it's creeping me out."
>A shiver goes down your spine as you realize that you turned your back towards the unknown darkness at the bottom of the stairs.
>You turn back around and stare into the darkness, too scared to move forward or backward.
"... p-please. I don't want to be here. H-help me."
---"I have no power over this dream. Lithia, you need to do this on your own. Be strong like I know you are."
>A sudden warm and moist breeze stinking of cinnamon washes over you from down stairs.
>It makes your fur stand on end.
>A loud *thud* comes from below.
>The steps shake.
>You stumble backwards up the stairs as fast as you can.
>Your eyes spot movement in the shadows at the bottom of the stairs.
>Something huge.
>You scream, turn around, and run up the last few steps towards the basement door.
>The thuds behind you grow louder and faster.
>thud........ thud...... thud..... Thud.... Thud...
>In the corridor, you gallop back in the direction you came from.
>Suddenly, something cold snatches your hind leg and tries to pull you back.
>You fight against it with all your might, desperate to get away from that thing.
>Each step toward the garden door is a fight.
>Your muscles scream, but fear and adrenaline keep you pushing on.
>Reaching the garden door, the thing around your ankle comes loose.
>Suddenly free again, you run outside over the dark grass towards the tree.
>A high-pitched whistle, like that of a teapot, makes you shake to the bone and marrow as you gallop towards the red-lit tree for cover.
>Out of breath, you cower behind the sturdy stump.
>Your heart pounds in your ears while you try to be as still and quiet as possible.
>The whistling gets louder.
>You eyes tear up.
>You pinch them close and cover your ears with your hooves to block out the noise.
>I'm not here.
>This isn't happening.



>( _ )

>"Wake up"
>It's Grey's voice.
>You open your eyes.
>It's a cold morning. You lie in your pile of leaves, with cold sweat clinging to your fur.
>The morning sun shines warm rays on your face.
>There is a faint smell of cinnamon in the air.
"Here, I brought you something. Thought you could use it after spending the entire night in the cold."
>He grins, fully knowing that he is the reason you are out here.
>Still shaking, you rise to a sitting posture.
>Grey hands you a hot mug of tea.
>Carefully, you take a sip. It tastes like Christmas and soothes your nerves.
>Looking around, everything seems normal again.
>"Let's head inside, shall we?", Grey says and leads the way.


Too bad the steps thing didn't format correctly. It was supposed to look like this:

>Then another.
>---Then another.
>------Then another.
>---------Then another.
>------------Then another.
>---------------Then another.

Anyways, I know this update is a little weird and it doesn't really move the story along. I just listened to this song on repeat and had to do something with it.
(also played around with a red lamp while listening soooo yeah...)
It doesn't contradict anything setup so far and builds on a few elements I want to get into more, but it's also again very out of the blue. Sorry...
Awesome, thanks for the update! Can't wait for the next part, you've got me hooked.

I'm guessing this is some kind of test so see if she is worthy of becoming one of the nomads.
What exactly is "murder the animals or we will beat you" testing? It can't be a test if she is forced to do it.
She must show that she is able to help the nomads hunt and that she is able to do hard things to help the group. Also show that she is capable of killing so that she can defend herself and others in the group instead of standing there puking like she does now. It would be the perfect test.
>hat she is able to help the nomads hunt
She isn't actually helping. A steadily shrinking circle doesn't need her for more than the first few steps.
>to help the group
As if her teaching the tribe new things isn't already helping everyone way more than a spear holding retard.
>that she is capable of killing so that she can defend herself
She is a female. Even back then, women weren't expected to fight for the tribe. She gathers, the men hunt.

Look, having someone stand behind you with a spear to force you to do something proofs nothing. With enough pressure and pain you can get anyone to do anything. If I force you to eat your own finger at gun point, does that mean you are now a hardened cannibal hungry for human flesh?
Yeah, I thought so.
>She isn't actually helping. A steadily shrinking circle doesn't need her for more than the first few steps.
No she is not helping because she is not able to because of her inhibitions.

>As if her teaching the tribe new things isn't already helping everyone way more than a spear holding retard.
You missed the point. I wrote "and that she is able to do hard things to help the group". Hard things (for her), not just help in other ways. What if one of the children gets attacked by an animal, is she just gonna stand there like a fool and watch because she is to afraid to help or because "it's not the pony way"?

>She is a female. Even back then, women weren't expected to fight for the tribe. She gathers, the men hunt.
And you missed the point again. Key here is "Defend herself". Hunting is a start for her in the direction that is needed if she is expected to be able to do what is necessary to protect herself and others from for example animal attacks.
I guess I can agree that her threshold for violence is lower now than before.
Now we have a mare experienced in violence having every reason to hate the tribe for forcing her through this. Yay.

The way I read the story, I interpreted the motive behind her being forced into this, not to be "we'll make a warrior out of you through shock therapy", because it seems like an ass backwards way of achieving it. Also there isn't a single good reason why she needs to become one.
To protect herself? Why would the tribe care if she dies?
To protect others? The same people that just traumatized her?
To protect children? Why would the tribe leave children alone with some who can't protect them?
To help out? They don't need her to hunt. She is already helping out much more by other means.

I read this whole thing as simple sadistic "fuck you, do what we tell you to".

It's somewhere in the middle, but more leaning toward "Willow is being a dick and having his idiotic revenge fantasy". The reasons I put 'camp leaders' behind the idea are basically: a) it's not a big deal, even children can't do this easy hunt, b) you in our land now, you learn our ways, and c) Willow is an experienced hunter with a lot of respect so let's listen to him. d) it seemed like a cool idea

Also, we're not done seeing the fallout and the aftermath.

Both of you raise some fine arguments though. If this bit doesn't make enough sense it's just my failing at writing, so thanks for bringing up both sides of it
It does make sense for the reasons you listed. There were children there, it really, wasn't meant to be a big deal. Major is just too different.

If something doesn't make sense, then it's the hunting method. No way a tribe has enough people to make a circle big enough to encircle anything of worth a damn.
In actual hunts you'd have a line of drivers going through the bush and "pushing" the animals into the hunters. But I'm not sure if that works without guns.

It's something people did in my area circa 2000 BCE. Granted, it was in forests and tickets, which probably alerts the numbers somewhat, but that is why I had these include women and children. I always knew it would be a stretch, but I've been thinking about the scene for a while and I really wanted it.
Oh interesting. I did not know that. My bad.
Also good choice to include the scene. It was a highlight!
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Welcome! I've added you to the thread's master list and active story list. Keep it up, this is some good stuff!

Hey, I don't know if you're watching, but do you have a permanent bin rather than the guest one at https://ponepaste.org/8222 ? I can add your story to the master list as well.
and when will you add the ones I'm begging you to add for like 2+ years now?
Rehab celly when?
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A cute!
Man, that one really is a cute. I dunno how much work she's getting done being that cute, but I won't deny the heartache-grade adorable.
Public discord is pretty dead. The secret writefag one still discusses the topic pretty regularly though.
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She doesn't know how to cook and she's bad at cleaning. Good bedmare though.
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What would an advertisement look like for a mare brothel?
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They give their pones cheap smartphones and have them aggressively flirt over social media
Could be hot, if her left eye wasn't too large.
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The classic
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Some find it easier than others.
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She needs to be sold into human service.
Diamond Tiara works her too hard and its starting to wear down her spirit. She needs pets and cuddles to recover.
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The neighbor pony keeps breaking my birdbath with her fat ass
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Acquire second pony to assist first pony.
Teamwork is a pillar of pre-slavery pony society.
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Maid won't come down!
Maid does her chores or master is gonna boot up her copy of animal crossing and rearrange all the furniture in her house.
Master is a cruel man!
Holy fucking cringe.
Anon is a fag, that we knew. Please continue, we need to know more.
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What a punk
Oh lol, I looked at the image earlier, but only now I realize that the vase didn't break and she is disappointed about it

I love cat pones <3
Can a pet be a girlfriend?
Fuck it, deal.
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How often should pony be given breaks, possibly even "vacations"? Slave they may be, but like with humans I would expect productivity to drop if their lives are nothing more than work and sleep. Fewer highly productive ponies is a much better investment than more lesser productive ponies.
Breaks, reasonably often, especially if they're doing good at keeping up on their work. It reinforces that trying her best is recognized and rewarded, and in turn encourages her to give her all in her work. Additionally, breaks can be scaled on a short-term basis in response to her day-to-day performance. Vacations, less often - maybe once or twice a year, more often if it's accompanying master on a vacation he was taking already. But they should be all but guaranteed unless pony really manages to screw up.
I've had this idea for 'mother's day' I might use in Lithia. it's the universal right of a slave to get one day off a year to go visit their mother.
>It's mothers' day!
>Travel halfway to see her
>Mothers' day already halfway done
>Got to go home instead
>Sucks to be a slave
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It might not work for everyone in every situation, but it's still better than never seen your parents ever again.
If your mother is dead, or lives to far away you just get the day off to do whatever you want.
It's also important for a mother to know how her filly is doing. If she is well taken care of and stuff.

I'd like to see something written about a mother raising a filly, knowing all too well that they will be separate soon. Her daughter being just another sacrifice to the machine that runs on sweat and tears.

...or maybe I don't. That would just be too sad.
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Yeah man, that just sounds fucking horrifying. I don't know if my heart can take that.
Anon from that second green you mention here.
I dont, can you guide me on how to do it? I thought that having it on Ponepaste was more than enough. Either way im planing on continue that green if i have the time for it.
Kek, thanks i guess. I coundt decide on either continue it or leave it at that.
Weird place to leave it. Seemed like it was building up to something with anon waking up in the same bed as the bartender, but then it just ended.
Again, im planning on continue it. It just that for the past few days i was seriously considering on just leaving and that open end for shits and giggles. But ill continue it once i get some time to write down.
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Employment when?
Awwwwww. Hopefully only after she's ready
Second this. I miss Rehab Celly.
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>erratic and extremely unsafe movement
>not a drop spilled
The maid is strange, but talented.
And she cooks like you wouldn't believe.
Dear God, my heart. 10/10 would buy both of them and treat them with love, tenderness, and nonstop affection.
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mares cleaning, and looking cute while doing so, is all you need
Oh neat. Did you draw that?
yeah. got really drunk last night and jerryrigged a little concept art brush and drew a slew of mares. I posted the full image in the /bale/ thread if you wanna see the rest. i lurk a lot of threads, and was trying to kinda-sorta have something for each
Found the big picture! Love that there are some artists among us. Too few on this board sadly.
Does being drunk help while drawing ? Heh
I wish it did, lmao. It really just fucks up the ol hand-eye coordination so drawing gets harder, then I get more distracted. at least with what I drew everything was pretty free form so messiness kinda helped. I'll probably draw more slave mare at some point, but I say the same about all the threads I like so we'll see
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What ever you do, don't cut of your ear! It doesn't really help you to draw better.
I'll look forward to that 'probably, we'll see'.
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>What ever you do, don't cut of your ear! It doesn't really help you to draw better.
...speaking from experience, anon?
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Nah, I'm not an artist. As a writer I improve my craft through excesive drinking and getting into bar fights.
>Be...Silver Cocktail
>You've been serving this human fellow for the past few hours.
>Since the bar was relatively empty, there wasn't much to do besides give this human drinks.
>He was... nice to you.
>Well, more precisely, he was treating you like a bartender, which is way more than what you usually get from humans.
>Normally they just disdain you, and from time to time they would ask for a human to serve them.
>You guessed you just got used to it (as morbid as it sounds), so much so that a normal interaction feels nice for a change.
>You try your hardest not to dweel on it; it would just depress you in the end.
>You know it from experience.
>Right now, you just try to enjoy it and pretend like you are back home serving another pony on a late night.
>It's surprising how much this human, er, Anon, can drink and only be a bit tipsy.
>You're not sure if he has a great constitution or if he's just very good at hiding it.
>"Mm... I think I'll call in for tonight, Silver... It's getting late."
>Anon stands up from his seat as he goes for his inner pocket on his jacket and takes out his wallet between two of his fingers.
>He opens it and takes out a few of those paper pieces, or notes, as they called them, and leaves them on the bar. You don't even need to look at the numbers to notice that there is a generous tip there.
>Yeah, now you're sure, he's just good at hiding it. It's not very noticeable, but years of experience help you see the signs.
>With the slow movement, the way he takes a brief pause before every action, you could bet he had to do a few tries before correctly grabbing his wallet on his jacket.
"Indeed it is chief. Have a safe way home, eh?"
>Anon chuckles to himself, probably surprised because you read his drunken state like a book.
"I will... Nice knowing you, Silver"
"Same feeling here boss. Thanks for coming by."
>You responded with genuine joy, something you honestly miss having.
>Anon just smiled and walked out to your left, where the entrance was. You swear you saw his lips move, trying to say something, but no sound came out.
>All in all, tonight was a good night. Hopefully he will come back another night, or better yet, more people will start to act the same as he did.
>Maybe then you will remember how much you love this job.
>You were about to clean up what was left on the bar and then close in when you suddenly heard one of the tables move abruptly.
>Surprised by it, you quickly turn your head in the direction of the noise.
>There was Anon once more, just a few steps away from the entrance, his knees on the floor and his whole upper body holding one of the tables like his life depended on it.
>Apparently he couldn't hide it any longer, he was totaled. His legs tried to gain balance once more, but it was in vain; they just fell in place.
>Buck, you should've cut him off earlier; if you weren't so distracted, you would have better noticed him, stupid Silver.
>You quickly get your hooves off the bar and trot in Anon's direction, hoping he hasn't injured himself or damaged the table. Both could get you in deep trouble.
"Hey Boss, everything alright?"
>Lowering your head and putting it beneath his armpit, you try your hardest to help him get up.
>With one hand on the table and the other resting on your neck he gets on his feet rather quickly.
>You're not even sure if you actually helped him get up or not; maybe he got embarrassed falling like that and tried to regain control as quickly as possible.
>"Y-yeah, yeah. I'm okay, thanks..."
>>"No, youre not."
>A harsh yet familiar voice suddenly comes from behind you, making you instinctively flinch and close your eyes.
>It was your owner.
>You turn around to face him with your ears flat down; you try to explain, but your words just stumble with how nervous you are.
"Don't worry M-M-Mr.Match, I was just..."
>>"Shut it Silver."
>Mr.Match approaches the bar, grabs the rug you were using, and starts to clean up what you left without even looking at you or Anon.
>>"This is your fault for not controlling how much he took. Now help him get home safe and be back quickly, understood?"
"Y-yes sir"
>Well, you can't say you didn't see this coming Silver, Anon is now YOUR responsibility.
>Speaking of witch, when you turn to Anon, you see that he is no longer by your side; instead, he just continued walking out by himself.
>Did he even hear Mr.Match? Either way, it's better to not lose sight of him.
Is not much, but i hope this little update is enough for today. Im stuck with work so i dont have much time to sit down and write.
(Also, i was planning on updating the Ponepaste and leaving the link here, but i forgot i posted the green as guest and now i cant edit it lol.)
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Reminder that poni is for carri
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Just finished Slaveventure
what the FUCK was that ending
Anons from the marital problem general invaded the thread and believe that some NTR would do the deal
The writer had a couple different confrontations planned for the finale, but we went completely off the rails over and over again during the story so that all went up in flames and he had to work with what our bleeding hearts guided it towards.

Cadence belongs with Anon
Shiny had been bedded by his human near-constantly, she deserves to be loved too.
B-but the /mp/ OP clearly states no cucking allowed!
>Shiny had been bedded by his human near-constantly, she deserves to be loved too.
Stop, that anon never got any gay ideas with shiny... they were bros, not gay.
I really can't think of a worse ending though. the story was going fine, i recognize that it was biting off more than it could chew with a bunch of concepts and problems being thrown in the mix, but ending it with an aged megan and a... slightly? aged flurry heart didn't feel like an ending at all, it felt like the writer just went "fuck it" and scorched earth it. Not only that, the ending's just fucking depressing, jesus. Really, having a frail character that was a child less than like 10 lines ago imagining the sweeter and simpler times of her childhood was the only times in the story that i actually really felt a profound sadness. No, this doesn't make it a good ending because its an emotional highpoint, it came out of fucking nowhere. Its like having your favorite character shot for no reason. Completely out of the blue, seriously, WHY DID THEY END IT LIKE THAT THERES A MILLION BETTER WAYS THAT DON'T INVOLVE HAVING HER (apparently semi-) IMMORTAL CHILDHOOD FRIEND COMFORT HER AT HER DEATHBED
No character gets a satisfying conclusion except MAYBE that one suicidal stallion that gets introduced like 11/12ths into the story and even that was halfassed.
ESPECIALLY Anon. They did him dirty. equivalent to splashing him with AIDS-ridden period blood mixed with shit dirty. Megan pretty much only has bad memories of him on her deathbed, holy shit.
literally NONE of his character arcs were resolved except for "yeah maybe I should be a little nicer to my slaves. just a bit."

What did we learn from this? Did the author have the story outlined at all or was he merely a messenger, bound to the whims of anonymous shitposters?
It was actually going well until the same trope between cadence and anon was pulled for the 90th time
What a fucking unsatisfying conclusion.
How would one make a better CYOA?
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Lad did his best to roll with us but that cyoa took place during our peak whiteknight years and autism will be autism. I guess it's a very different experience looking backwards onto it all compared to when you're in the midst of it while it was ongoing, but the reaction during the story was positive for nearly the whole thing.
That being said, to give you an idea of how badly we fucked the planned story at every turn: Cadence becoming the camp manager wasn't on the menu, we were near-constantly pushing for her and Anon to hook up, and the camp itself wasn't intended to survive the story.
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>Implying that firm, fuzzy ass wasn't being ridden nonstop from dusk til dawn
>Implying he doesn't use the riding crop right on Shining's cutie mark to make him whinny and moan
>Implying he doesn't love how Shining moans and twitches as he jerks him to a spasming climax
>Implying Anon doesn't cum just as hard when Shining takes him so deep down his throat that his fuzzy chin tickles Anon's balls
He would be a happy good boy... and yeah Corona would clean the bed the next day.
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I guess it's nice to also see it from silver's perspective, but I wish something new would happened. It's pretty much the same happenings but from a different perspective. Maybe next time...
I guess this general need a little break. There's totally a lack of interest in the bumping and lack of writting power so if you read this, let wait a month to create the next slave thread.
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Well it is a little hard to respond to
I don't think you can force a discussion like that.

I'll try to continue my weekly story updates, till the thread is gone.

I'll throw in an idea I want to write a oneshot for eventually.
>marriage collars
>they are just bigger rings okay?
>human and pony alternate daily between the roles of master and slave
>this is supposed to help have a stable relationship.by giving both spouses a loaded gun to point at each other
>As a master, you don't have to treat your spouse any different, but the option is there.
>sometimes though, this dynamic spirals out of control with mare and human one upping each other in humiliation and sadism

Would you do it? It has something romantic to it and in times of 50% divorce rates, it might actually help. But it's also pretty risky. You could have married a crazy mare!
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>Well it is a little hard to respond to >maid!
You just got to make more maids.
Enmaid all the ponies.
>That being said, to give you an idea of how badly we fucked the planned story at every turn: Cadence becoming the camp manager wasn't on the menu
Kind of a half-truth? She was always going to be pushed into that role; that was the crux of her story arc. What the thread unexpectedly drove her towards was doing that successfully, and actually working with Anon rather than trying to gain leverage over him or buying time for an attempted escape.

>I guess it's a very different experience looking backwards onto it all compared to when you're in the midst of it while it was ongoing, but the reaction during the story was positive for nearly the whole thing.
This is very true as a writer as well. I had an absolute blast writing it, but in retrospect it isn't whatsoever my strongest writing. Not by far.

Some fair criticism here, some I think is more particular to you. It was definitely a very abrupt ending, but also I think you're misconstruing a bit. e.g....
>ending it with an aged megan and a... slightly? aged flurry heart didn't feel like an ending at all
Fair enough; I was trying to show that Cadance's efforts ultimately did pay off (if you re-look at their conversation, there's a lot of implications that both Cadance and Flurry are free) and successfully lead to a more normal relationship in time. This came at the cost of giving direct answers about a lot of other characters, e.g. Thunderlane, Rumble, Mocha Cream,etc...
>Megan pretty much only has bad memories of him on her deathbed, holy shit.
Nah. She's having an existential moment there, but she's got many more good memories than bad. Look at how they're interacting through the last few segments; does that look like someone who'd only remember him badly?
>What did we learn from this? Did the author have the story outlined at all or was he merely a messenger, bound to the whims of anonymous shitposters?
Nope, no real outline.
>How would one make a better CYOA?
Have an outline.

No seriously - I think the big takeaway from CYOS was that I got about halfway through it and realized "Hrm, I should start trying to figure out how I'm going to wrap this up." and this resulted in a mediocre ending. It would've worked a lot better, I think, if I'd had more of the plot sketched out and resisted the urge to throw in random things at various intervals.
I want to own a pony of my own and also I am a huge sub so honestly yes

When I first saw these two pictures I had a completely different idea

Celestia has been fighting against the enslavement of her people for many years now well she is a living goddess it takes a lot of her and her sisters time and effort to protect what ponies they have left so they rarely go out themselves trying to free there people and Cadence is still far to young and in training to lead the charge.
>though she sometimes sends word and collaberies with rebel groups.
>with that in mind she had lost contact with several ponies.
>That she cared for one day she gets word that a rebel group has found her faithful student twilight.
>well she thought twilight would be leading a rebel group or under strict guard what she did not expect was for former student to be the personal property of a human male.

>after examining the situation further Celestias sees her former student in a maid outfit proclaiming the superiority of human cock horrified at this development Celestia can only watch.
>once they finish she teleports into the room and teleports all three of them back to new equestia, where she wants to imprison the human for the brainwashing of her surrogate daughter.
In this fix I was thinking that twilight would love anon and have a very similar relationship to twilight and anon in Vega’s story.
>also well Celestia and her ponies would not kill humans she certainly does not like them and has become a bit Jaded by what has happened and how humanity betrayed and enslaved her people.
>Also twilight family would be there.
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Top cutiepie
Dealing with the aftermath of a "happy" slave isn't something we see a lot in this thread, yeah.
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Pony petting zoo
Run by the ponies
Is it a heavy petting zoo?
That part is behind the 'adults only' curtain.
Well I know where I'll be all day.
What's the difference between this an' /SiM/?
Is it just that SiM was created to revolve around a specific flavour of slavery- with more of a focus on the kink and D/s aspect? Or is it something different?
i always figured /sim/ is more of a sex thing, while this is generally about being miserable and slowly going nuts until the typical mares rule humans drool/human-mare team up/etc endings
A post last thread mentioned "slavery as a setting not as a fetish" for /spg/.
>while this is generally about being miserable
yeah, can you guys stop making me cry. Thanks.
A good way to phrase it is that sim's self insert protagonist that the readerbase is cheering for is spg's irredeemable villain that gets sentenced to life in prison at the end of the story. Functionally both threads exist in the same space, but context is everything.
>while this is generally about being miserable
Not necessarily. The settings which explore anons' dilemmas about the ethics of slavery are the ones that engage me the most, way more than the cliched
>I own you, now do my bidding, the end

> Mayor Mare was sitting on the ground near the large bonfire. Nomads kept walking around her, and some even stepped right over her, but she didn't much care. Her eyes were locked on the fire, but she didn't really see it.
> She felt hollow. Like someone had cracked her open and scooped out everything which should have been inside her.
> How had she gotten from the hunt back home? She must have walked, but Mayor didn't remember taking a single step. In fact, most of the day after that initial push in the circle was vague.
> Maybe she should have been horrified, or disgusted, but there was just... nothing. Shock, she suspected, but it was a detached thought, as if her mind was floating a short distance away from her and had nothing to do with the quiet, still pony.
> Some of the nomads had come at her, grinning and happy, and had complimented her. A few even slapped her back or her shoulders. Each such strike made the mare sway a little, but she neither acknowledged nor rejected the praise. Invariably the nomads were weirded out and left.
> Mayor blinked her eyes, which were getting dry, and wondered why there were no tears. Had she cried? She thought she should have done, but it was hard to be sure. Her memory simply wouldn't cooperate.
> She recalled specific moments, instants, frozen in time and without any context to them. A crack of small bones. A splash of hot blood. A wooden spear shaft, striking her flank. Throughout it all, an awful, demonic, inequine roar.
> Mayor Mare believed the roar had been her. Maybe something dark and evil had possessed her and she wasn't herself? What other explanation was there? It was utterly impossible that a pony - *any* pony - could have committed such atrocities.
> "[Meyermer?]" a soft voice spoke.
> She thought she recognized this nomad. It was a young female and made her think of... guilt?
> The sound of the name was familiar, but it was hard to associate the creature standing in front of her with anyone Mayor might have known.
> Saule dropped down to her knees and peered at Mayor's face in the faint, orange light. It flickered and moved, as the nomads around the central bonfire danced and sang. The air was filled with the sound of sizzling and the smell of burning flesh.
> The nomad girl lifted a hand and reached out, but Mayor flinched away at first. She didn't know why she was frightened. Fingers found her muzzle and carefully turned her back.
> "[Your face...]"
> Mayor didn't respond, but she pressed her cheek into the soft, warm palm and closed her eyes. She smelled blood and sweat and grime, but underneath it all was something familiar.

> When there was no response, the nomad girl continued in a hushed tone: "[You're covered in blood,]" she whispered. Her other hand came near and she traced a line from the corner of Mayor's eye down her muzzle. "[Except here, and here,]" the touch was mirrored on her other side.
> 'Good,' Mayor thought to herself, still in that detached, unfeeling state, 'I've cried. Maybe there's something still there.'
> She didn't respond out loud, but her ears jerked as they wanted to flatten.
> "[What's wrong?]" Saule asked, her voice full of worry. "[Are you hurt? Did someone hit you by accident? Cut you? Did something bite you?]"
> Mayor almost opened her mouth to try and explain, but thought better of it. It wouldn't do any good. The nomads could not understand that what they had done was wrong.
> Monstrous.
> They hunted to survive and they ate the flesh. It was the way their world worked. It was their custom.
> In the end Mayor just gave her head a single shake, which dislodged Saule's hand from her muzzle. It was just as well. Murderers, such as herself, probably didn't deserve comfort.
> "[That is good. You're probably tired, but you have to come. She asked for you!]"
> Mayor let her head hang down and she closed her eyes. She could shut out the sight of all those nomads, cramming bits of small creatures into their mouths, teeth tearing at the flesh, tongues licking up the fat.
> She couldn't stop the sounds, but if she concentrated on the singing she didn't have to hear the sizzling and the eating.
> There was a tug on her mane, but she paid it no mind. Others had tried to get her to move, but she was perfectly comfortable exactly where she was. They could walk around or over her.
> Saule was talking again: "[Come on! You have to come! Get up! You can sleep after!]"
> The words were punctuated by a slap against her side. It wasn't hard, but her back and flanks were bruised and Mayor jerked aside.
> However numb and hollow she felt, her body still worked and the reaction to pain, however minor, was automatic. She slipped to her side and allowed her legs to fold, so she was lying down.
> The ground was muddy, but it wouldn't make her any dirtier she already was. Mayor let her head down and closed her eyes. Maybe the world would make more sense in the morning. Maybe she would remember more.
> Had she cried? There was nothing left, but maybe by then she would have fresh tears to shed. It was only proper, after all.
> She heard receding footsteps and relaxed. Saule had gone away, no one would bother her any more. They were too busy eating.
> Mayor let the rhythm of the singing, the stamping feet, the crackling fire, and the buzz of conversation lull her to sleep.

> She woke up when strong arms squirmed under her and lifted her up. Mayor blinked her eyes open, but she recognized Salki and relaxed again.
> They'd had enough of dealing with her motionless form and now he was taking her to the tent. That was just as well, all she wanted to do was sleep anyway.
> "[Fuck, you've gotten heavy. How did you get this heavy?]" Salki swore.
> She didn't answer and simply let her head hang limp. It sounded like his problem, not hers.
> The poor nomad was breathing heavily by the time they reached their destination. He tried to lower her gently, but his muscles gave out and Mayor landed on a bit of animal skin with a thump which knocked her breath out of her.
> She growled in frustration and flattened her ears, but then thought better of it. It didn't really matter, they were there. Wherever Salki had wanted to take her.
> Saule was there too, and some others. Women, for the most part.
> "[Finally. Here, here. Come and see Meyermer. Meyermer? What's wrong with her?]"
> That was Xuan's voice and it caused one of Mayor's ears to rise and focus. She hadn't expected that voice.
> Salki replied: "[The fuck if I know. She's just like this. Limp. Ever since the hunt. I don't know what happened, but Saule says she isn't hurt.]"
> "[She isn't,]" the girl confirmed. "[Willow said she did well, but when it was over she just stood there. He had to kick her and push her to get her home, and then she just sat down by the fire and wouldn't move. That's how I found her.]"
> There was silence and then Mayor felt a presence by her side. Xuan had sat down on the same animal skin rug and ran a hand through Mayor's mane. "[Ugh, she's covered in blood.]"
> Saule answered that too: "[I know, but it's too dark. We can't go to the stream now and wash her, and she doesn't want to walk anyway. I really don't know what's wrong, but the blood can wait.]"
> Xuan's hand felt around Mayor's back and withers. She moved further down her ribs and when she came to her flanks the mare hissed in pain. The pressure vanished, but a moment later it was back, albeit a lot gentler.
> "[What's this? She's cut! You said she wasn't hurt!]"
> Mayor felt something else bump her side and realized it was Saule, who had knelt down beside Xuan to get a closer look. "[I didn't see! She has blood all over, I didn't know some of it was hers! I asked and she said she wasn't hurt!]"
> Xuan sighed and called to Salki: "[Bring the torch. I don't think it's bad, but here- feel here. You see how tender it is? She was beaten. Willow.]" There was anger in that last word and it had come out muffled, as if Xuan had gritted her teeth. Her hand moved aside and a smaller palm joined hers on Mayor's rump.
> "[I- I don't know. Are you sure?]" Saule asked in a hesitant, uncertain voice.

> Xuan heaved another sigh. "[I know what bruises feel like, even on an animal. Willow must have beat her. Salki, tell your mother, she should know.]"
> There was an affirmative noise from the young hunter, then Xuan continued: "[The cut isn't deep and it's already clotted. We'll leave it for now, but we will have to wash it tomorrow so she doesn't get the fever.]"
> The nomad woman moved her hands away from Mayor's flank and gripped instead her hind leg. Mayor didn't resist as Xuan pulled it away to extend it. "[Not broken. Hmm...]"
> She pushed the limb this way and that, then repeated the procedure with the other three. At the end of it Mayor was lying on her side and her eyes were closed once more. They could do what they wanted with her.
> The nomads left her in peace for a few minutes and she was, once again, starting to drift off to sleep when she was rolled again on her belly. She sensed, more than saw, Xuan sit down, cross-legged right in front of her muzzle.
> "[Meyermer?]" she asked quietly again. "[Please look.]"
> There was an odd tone in her voice and despite her misery the mare opened her eyes.
> Xuan's belly was gone. In its place, held firmly in the woman's lap, was a bundle of animal furs.
> She scented a new smell, something Mayor couldn't identify, but it made something stir deep inside. Despite herself she lifted her head to see better.
> This movement made Xuan chuckle and she lifted a bit of fur to show the mare what she held.
> Mayor saw a bit of pink and blinked her eyes to clear them. It was a face, incredibly small, but unmistakable. There was a faint wisp of black hair above it and a tiny hand curled just below.
> The newborn was watching her, or at least looking in her general direction.
> It was Xuan's daughter. Mayor got her hind legs under her and shuffled forward so she could get a closer look.
> The infant opened her mouth in a small yawn, but then went back to staring.
> "[I think she likes you,]" Xuan said with a laugh. "[Meyermer, I want you to meet Guuni.]"
"[Guuni.]" The word had slipped out almost without conscious control.
> Xuan smiled at this and leaned closer with the bundle in her arms. The infant's arm reached out toward the vivid pink of Mayor's mane, even if it was streaked with brown, dried blood. She grasped, but only caught hold of the mare's ear.
> Mayor remained perfectly still, almost too afraid to breathe, lest she hurt this tiny, fragile creature.
> She allowed the child to hold her ear, until the small fingers let go and patted her muzzle before drawing back.
> "[Go on, go on! Tell her why she's named 'Guuni'!]" Saule burst out impatiently.

> Mayor transferred her gaze to Xuan, who rolled her eyes a little. "[Fine, fine. Patience!]" she chided gently as she wrapped her daughter in the furs again. "[I wanted to name her after you, but we do not have this word you tell us - Meyer. The closest is 'chieftain', but I couldn't call my daughter that. So I named her after the other part. -mer.]"
> It didn't make much sense and Mayor had to replay those words to herself in her memory before she grasped them.
"[M-Me? After me?]"
> "[Yes. We have a word for -mer - female horse. So I called my daughter 'Guuni', which is short for 'guuni-naiz'. Mare friend.]"
> Xuan fell silent and gave Mayor an imploring look. "[I hope you will be a friend to my daughter, like you are to me?]"
> She didn't get an answer. At least, she did not get a verbal answer, because Mayor had laid her head down in Xuan's lap and was weeping again.
> The strange dichotomy of these people was too much to bear. She could not hold both the cruelty of the past few hours, and the tenderness of this moment, together in her heart.
> It was tearing her into two pieces and Mayor felt as if her soul was being simultaneously blessed and cursed.
> She wept because of what she had done. She wept for what she was becoming. She had killed - murdered - with her own hooves, and that deserved her tears too.
> Then she wept for the beauty. Xuan did not know the words, but she wanted Mayor Mare to be a godmother to her child.
> Lastly, Mayor wept for what was to come. The guilt and the horror were still being kept at bay by shock, but that would wane. She had done awful things and it wasn't entirely Willow's fault. She couldn't say: "I was forced."
> She was an Equestrian. Any pony would die before they inflicted such pain and misery upon others, especially upon the true innocents.
> She hadn't. She had given in to the beating and the jeering and the pain and madness around her. In the end she had caved, and she had killed.
> Even if the nomads didn't see it as a crime, that didn't absolve her. Mayor was answerable to a higher power.
> No, not Celestia. She was answerable to herself. To the *pony* Mayor Mare.
> She doubted that pony would ever forgive her.

A bit of a shorter update this one. It took an hour to write, so I thought it would take an hour to read.

Paste: https://ponepaste.org/7856
Pretty much what >>39286786 said.
Really good continuation after the hunting part. I feel for her. Her being shell shocked fits well.
If that actually only took an hour to write, then that is extremely impressive!
>until the typical mares rule humans drool/human-mare team up/etc endings
Yeah, that why we are better and go with the NTR ending >>39281090
>I own you, now do my bidding, the end
Name 2

I mean ya It could be funny as a dark story I guess I don't know,

How do you think that twilight would act in this situation where she still very much loves anon and the ‘activities they do.’ but also feels really bad for the rest of her race especially with how they see her.
>also how does she tell everyone what her relationship with anon is.
Anyone have ideas for stuff like this
I personally like this perspective switch. It has great potential to add irony to the story.
There is a weird contradiction here. How can twilight be a slave and love it? Isn't she just a marefriend with a weird sub kink then?
How would Twilight act in a situation where everyone hates her kink boyfriend? She'd drop him and get a stallion to do that stuff with her, or she is just very secret about it.
Lithia - (Freeday #5)
After sleeping outside in a pile of leaves, bringing with it a terrifying nightmare, the cold autumn sun offers a short reprise to Lithia. She is allowed to come inside again, but what happens inside is worse than any nightmare could be...

>The cold morning sun shines brightly as Grey watches you place the spit-out barret back in your mane, intrigued.
>Then he gets up, making an unmistakable gesture for you to follow him.
>You watch him walk away on the wet grass.
>Memories of your nightmare replay in your head.
>Horrifying, yet so distant as if it happened to another mare, coincidentally named Lithia as well.
>You sneeze and take another sip from the tea, making your stomach feel pleasantly warm.
>Grey has almost reached the house.
>You get up to follow him, groaning as your bruises painfully remind you of their presence.
>Hastily, you empty your cup, burning your mouth a little in the process.
>Stiff muscles ache as you make haste to follow Grey inside.
>For a moment, hesitation grips you at the threshold.
>But the warmth of the inside air blowing past your ice-cold muzzle quickly overrides any fear.
>Stepping inside the house is like stepping into another world.
>What seemed like a prison just yesterday now feels like a shelter.
>Even the playful maritime decorations, which you thought to be so tacky and inappropriate for the kind of person Grey is, now feel like a nice addition.
>The picture hanging in the corridor of the silly seagull with a piece of bread in his beak brings a little smile to your face.
>Until it reminds you of how hungry you are.
>You haven't eaten anything since breakfast yesterday. If you can call one mouthful of nutrient cubes that.
"The pile of leaves," Grey nods approvingly as you enter the kitchen, "that was very crafty of you."
>To your stark disappointment, the kitchen table is empty. No signs of breakfast anywhere.
>Grey must have noticed your disappointment.
"We already ate. Sorry, thought you needed the extra bit of sleep."
>Frustrated, you paw at the ground and complain: "I'm hungry."
>The door behind you opens, and Xena enters the kitchen, trotting to Grey's side while giving you a smug look.
>She got to sleep inside, but at least she still has to wear her collar, suppressing her magic. Her mane is meticulously brushed, reminding you of how messy your own must look currently.
>You sneeze, covertly aiming in Xena's direction.
"Are you alright, slave?" Grey asks, feigning concern.
"I'm hungry!", you repeat. This time louder with more energy.
"I'm hungry what Lithia?"
"I'm hungry and cold. If you don't give me anything and make me sleep outside, I'll die before the next pickup."
>Even he must see, that he can't treat you like this if he wants something from you.
>Grey shakes his head as if you were a filly in school, having just said something stupid.
"I can only help you if you let me, slave. Let me help you, please."
>Grey looks all concerned at the last part, as if he is actually begging you to be reasonable.
>Something is up. Your on high alert now, all fatigue falling off you instantly.
"I'll do your stupid pickups, okay?! What more do you want? Stop trying to starve or freeze me to death. You need me! Be nice to me and I'll sit out my time till the year is over. No more troubles. Promised."
>That's a reasonable request, right?
>Grey's facial expression darkens.
"This is not how this game is played slave. I'm the fucking human here, and you do what I fucking say with a fucking smile on your muzzle. That's what you agreed to."
>With small eyes, you nod at Xena.
"I'll never be a pathetic bootlicker like her. Forget it! I want decent treatment, or else you can go send your 'beloved' Xena swimming for that package herself!"
>Grey clenches his fist.
"That's it! I've had it up to here with you. I've tried to be reasonable. You say you are not pathetic? Hah! How about we test that right now?"
>Test it? How? Your rump makes contact with the closed kitchen door as you slowly back away.
"Xena, pin her down."
>Before you can turn around and flee, Xena has already pounced on you.
>You're pinned to the floor on your stomach, all legs stretched out, with Xena on top.
>Her whole body lies on yours, the weight making it hard to breathe.
>You can feel the fleshy lumps of her teats pressing against your lower back.
>At least she isn't a stallion, and... oh no.
>You struggle to get free, but your slender Pegasus build is no match for the sadistic Unicorn.
>Xena nibbles on your left ear, sending a cold shower down your back, before seductively whispering into it:
"Maybe this time you'll learn. Do keep struggling whorse. I'll enjoy every pathetic little muscle spasm you make."
>With fire in your eyes, you clench your teeth, and you put every little bit of energy you have into throwing her off.
>Xena laughs.
"More, more!"
>You are too weak. Dread washes over you like a cold ocean wave, paralyzing your muscles, stopping your pointless struggle.
>Your head rests on the kitchen floor.
>Grey comes back, bringing with him a cloth iron.
>He plugs it in and kneels down next to you.
"I had really hoped that promising you freedom would be enough. But perhaps one year is just too long for your mare-brain to comprehend. This is your fault. Let's see how pathetic you really are, shall we?"
>A few moments of horrifying anticipation go by until something makes a clicking sound behind you.
"You know, I could use the collar for this. But I found this to be more effective... and personal."
>The burning hot iron makes contact with your exposed flank.
>You scream.
>Every fiber cries out to get away from the terrible heat, but Xena's weight keeps you in place.
>Your world empties until only you, your tender flank, and that agonizing burning on your flesh exist.
>It burns! It burns!
>Then the iron is removed.
>You gasp for air, then cry.
"That's gonna leave a mark. Too bad about your cutie mark. I liked the bird."
"s-stop" you whimper, but to no avail.
"Stop who?"
>Pain from your seared flank throbs through your entire body, like needles driven through flesh.
>His voice fails to penetrate the fog in your brain.
>Another part of your flank makes contact with the iron.
>The searing pain drives more tears into your eyes.
>The smell of burned fur reaches your nose.
>You can't think straight anymore.
>Only pain exists!
"s-stop please stop."
"Who should stop?", Grey asks while the iron continues to burn your tender flank.
>You try to roll away from the mind-breaking pain, but you are completely helpless.
"master. Master!", you exclaim as loud as you can.
>The burning stops, and you feel like puking.
"Will you be good now?"
"y-yes.", you sob, your burned flesh throbbing with pain.
"Hmmm... Doesn't sound particularly convincing to me. What do you say, Xena?"
"I can feel her squirm beneath me. I reckon she is just pretending too."
>From the corner of your eye, you can see Grey raising the iron again.
"Nooo! I-I'm a good slave. Master please. I-I'll do anything. Please!"
"Sounds good. But how do I know that I can believe you? Hmh... how about you tell me a secret? Yes, a secret!"
"I-I don't have one."
"Oh, is that so? But your barret seems like a big secret to me. A grown mare shouldn't wear such a childish thing, let alone suck on it in their sleep. What's its secret? A family heirloom perhaps? Could it be distracting you from your duties? I'm your master. I need to know such things..."
"I-I" you stutter like the pathetic mare you are.
>All the posturing, all the fighting, was just you pretending to be someone you weren't.
>In your dream you did not face the monster. You ran away and cowered behind a tree, eyes shut, hoping for someone to save you.
>You didn't overcome your old master by being a brave mare.
>He had a heart attack, and you just took advantage of that.
>A brave mare wouldn't need a guardian to cuddle her every night.
>You are as pathetic as Xena, just less honest about it.
>This realization hurts more, than any physical pain ever could.
>You sob harder, trashing your head from left to right.
"Your master is waiting, slave."
"It... *sob* it's a gift...*sob* from my mom, master."
"Is that so? How sweet. And if your master wanted to have it, what would you say, slave?"
>Through a haze of tears, you see the iron glowing in Grey's hand.
>Something inside you breaks.
>It shatters like your bowl did yesterday.
"... t-take it master."
>The only friend you ever had. Betrayed.
>Selfish and weak, that's what you are.
>Grey bends over and plucks the barret out of your mane.
"Thanks. I'll keep that for now."
>Petting your head, he adds: "I thought you'd hold out a bit longer, but I'm glad I didn't have to burn your other flank too."
>There is nothing more that you wish for, than for the hard floor beneath you to become permeable. To let your spirit fall through it. Away from your pain stricken body, away from this place, away from everything.
>It's good that you'll never see your guardian again. He would despise you for what you have become.
"Get off her.", Grey commands.
>Reluctantly, Xena gets up, leaving a small wet spot on your lower back.
>You don't make any attempt to move.
"Get up."
>You get up trembling, your flank screaming in pain as the seared skin stretches and bends.
"Xena, go fetch the cream and her blanket."
"Yes, master."
"And you, Lithia, sit at the table. I'll get you some cubes."
"Yes, master." you say so quietly that you fear he didn't hear it.
>But he did.
>You try your best to sit down, but the pain is too great, and you don't manage to lift your leg high enough to assume the posture.
>Grey turns around with a full bowl and sees you struggling.
"Sorry, my fault. You may stand."
>Holding on to the bowl, he looks at you demandingly.
"Th-thank you master"
>While you eat, Grey tells you that you will have to continue to live outside for today and tomorrow.
>Your blank mind conjures up no feelings upon hearing these news.
>Apparently, Grey has to work with Xena in the basement and doesn't yet trust you enough to stay alone upstairs.
>After you are done eating, Grey rubs your burns with the cream the returned Xena has fetched.
>It soothes the pain a little, but not by much.
>You get to take a bottle of water, a little box with more cubes and your blanket outside with you.
>Grey also gives you the key to the shed as a reward for good behavior.
>The shed is small and windowless, but does a fine job protecting you from the chill wind.
>You spend all day inside the dark wooden shed, smelling of rubber and dust.
>Lying on your good flank, you have pulled your blanket up to your muzzle.
>The cloak of darkness is soothing. Hidden away from the world's eyes, no one can judge you. Not even you yourself.
>As you doze off, you catch yourself trying to retrieve the barret from your mane to place it in your mouth.
>The empty feeling in your mouth weighs on you more than the pain, so you briefly head outside to try and find a replacement.
>A smooth pebble of similar size fills the gap, but it's not the same.
>You have to sleep on your own from now on, like everyone else does.
>His last words to you in that terrible nightmare enter your mind.
"Lithia, you need to do this on your own. Be strong like I know you are."
>How could he have been so wrong?

Honestly, maybe I should just stop this for my own sanity. I don't want to become as fucked up as the anons in the /sim/ thread. I feel like by writing this, I'm stepping more in that direction, and I hate it.
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>How can twilight be a slave and love it?
happy aniversary /spg/ !!
I more meant a relationship like the one in vega’s story.

I always figured the main difference is whether cruelty serves the story you want to tell, or vice versa.

Anyway, this bit made me feel angry and sad and I wanted to give poor Lithia a nice hug and then beat up that mean Anon. That's a sign of good writing, that is. Please keep going.
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Maid Mare but now with 500% more Maid Mare
>500% more
Soap bubbles, with a name like that, no wonder she is a good maid. What's the deal with her looking in the mirror and looking sad though? Seems like something deeper going on...
I didn't actually come up with that punishment method. It's from an even more fucked up thing. Maybe that's why it weighs on me more. The hedonic treadmill is real and I am already way to used to stuff like this.
>I want to give Lithia a hug
She deserves one. Thank you.
Being a bubbly lil positive mare ain't easy, especially when you gotta wake up extra early and make yourself pretty with make up and stuff. She lives to serve, and she wants to do it right
Oh, hints at a deeper conflict. That has potential.
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Soap on a rope
The need to make the joke was intense. Doesn't have any sort of story-related bearing, if anyone was wondering.

hypothetical lore
>Soap Bubble was a filly born a slave, much like thousands of other ponies in the current age. During this pony-boom, companies began scrounging for any and all advantages for profits. While some went for the "dirt cheap, easy to replace" angle, others strived for excellence in pony performance.
>Soap's "home" was one such prestigious place. From the day a foal can speak, they began learning. Cooking, cleaning, welding, mathematics, anything that a pony had a knack for was immediately set upon by their educators, then expanded on to a heinous degree.
>Soap Bubble achieved the equivalent of a Doctorate in Housekeeping before she was even 13. She also learned some other helpful skills in between the strictly job related. While Spanish was mandatory, she also took French out of personal interest. Rather than just sewing-maintenance, she learned to knit with yarn.
>Her unrelenting drive to succeed pleased all of her mentors. After all, that's what makes of a million dollar mare. As long as she never slips up, she will be perfect.
>"Never slip up."
>The best of the best never have to slip up, right? And she has to be the best. Her teams had to be the best, even if she had to carry the weight. Her future master will be the best of the best! Why, if she made a mistake, then she'd just be a worthless dime a dozen pony.
"A beating will never hurt as much as the shame of failure."

Look at the Vega story, staying out of trouble

Also how would anyone write a story about a slave twilight who had a boyfriend being shamed for her relationship.
Where did that branding iron come so fast and ready to use? (heated up)
Grey must have planned this even before Lithia were let inside.
I was legit expecting Grey to violate Lithia, Xena got wet after all.
It was a clothing iron, not a branding iron. An electrical one.
>I was legit expecting Grey to violate Lithia, Xena got wet after all.
That's what happened in the source material. Didn't think it would be something he would do in that situation though.
Interesting lore. Also colored Pic, yay! damn do her colors look garish neon though. To attention grabbing for a perfect slave maid imo.
>doctorate in housekeeping
It would be hard to sell that one can really excell at such an trivial task as housekeeping. Uneducated immigrants can do it just fine. Basically, if she is supposed to be a million dollar mare, youd need to come up with some concrete skill that only very few are actually able to master. I don't see anything like that listed yet.
If she is so educated and friendly /bubbly maybe she could work as a personal friend/teacher for some rich kid growing up. Live-in teachers used to be a thing.
>clothing iron
ups, might have skipped reading a line or two there
>in the source material
to be fair, i was a bit drunk when i was trying to figure it all out. the colors i was going for were soapy clean but i had a shit time on figuring out what would actually work. The lore itself is more just spitballing ways to justify her personality. I'm a terrible writer, so i was kinda pitching it so that maybe someone competent could see what i was going for and go nuts. personally, i just wanna draw her living the life of a slave maid. She would probably be good with kids on the outset, then when they drop a plate or make a spill her trained neat-freakness would kick in all "ITS OKAY I CAN CLEAN IT JUST DONT MOVE I CAN DO IT ITS FINE ITS FINE, DONT CRY UH UH, ILL JUST USE MY SKIRT TO MOP IT UP AND ILL FIND THE CLEANER IN A SEC, OH GOSH OH GEEZ".
>Source material
the comic I stole the idea for the scene for. Especially that holding her down by lying on top her.
>clothing iron
To be fair, I think that was pretty subtle. Doesn't help that in English the word iron has many meanings.

I like the challenge of writing for a predefined character. If something hits me that isn't a truck I'll be sure to write it down.
>I was legit expecting Grey to violate Lithia,
Thought a bit more about this. Do you think that would have been the better creative choice?
>After all, that's what makes of a million dollar mare
Imagine her surprise when she discover that she just become really expensive to be desirable and watch all the other ponies get sold while her perfection make her not getting a master that would rather to buy 10 regular maid ponies instead of the maid pony that have a price that is twenty time higher
>her price is so unreasonable the company has to resort to renting her out to the government for foreign dignitaries visiting the country.
"I knew learning 2 extra languages would come in handy!"
>"You will not speak to anyone. You will only enter the premises before and after their stay has concluded."
>only hired to work
>no comfy time
>a different company because even her rent prices are really high for the regular people that would want any kind of confort
>no master to cuddle
>no master to get relief in her heat
>just work work work work
The consequence of being perfect.
It depends what you want to portray.
If the goal was to
- violate her, make her feel worthless -> rape or cut her mane or any non physically permanent thing
- make her remember that she belongs -> branding or any permanent marking which is an obvious sign of being owned
- punish her -> whatever this was with the iron
The goal was to shatter her self styled image of being a rebel. She has been shown in a very crud way, that with enough pressure applied, she breaks like everyone else. Maybe she never was that special brave and strong mare. Maybe she just had it easy so far. Now is the time to find out who she really is.

at least I hope that's the message that came across
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Enjoying the story!
Is it ponepasted?
>works super hard
>does her absolute best at all times
>receives no cuddles
Life is unfair
>Enjoying the story
Glad to hear it.

>Is it ponepasted?
There ya go.
Expensive bedmare.
I think she was bought for cheap and every owner she had just wanted her for profits? Each one selling her for double the price or something and none actually used her to keep her value.
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>used her to keep her value
I'd say, if you used her she would loose value.
She would totally end in a brothel if she got slaved in the first wave.
She desperately needs to read Nietzsche. It seems like she lacks will to power. In her current state she is closer to an animal than to a human.
Cute little one-shot about a mare being totally, for real in love with her master!

WARNING: may contain smut. you have been warned

>Something odd is happening today.
>It feels like you are on the edge of something. Something big.
>Well, you are on the edge of the bed, lying belly down, while master thrusts his cock into your wet mare-hood.
>A pillow beneath raises your ass up to provide your master with comfortable access to your special place.
>Occasionally, he grunts or slaps your ass for emphasis.
>There was something you wanted to do, but it slipped away when you saw him.
>Something about him creates these weird feelings inside you that make you forget everything else.
>It's love, but stronger and never fades.
>You moan as he accidentally hits one of your sensitive spots in your slippery love canal.
>With renewed fervor, he slaps your ass cheek so hard that it hurts and starts thrusting harder and harder into you.
>Your moans drive him wild, and you love it.
>Master's pleasure is your turn on.
>You clench your vaginal muscles around his throbbing cock, increasing your tightness around him, just as you have been taught.
>The feeling of friction from your tight pussy being penetrated so deeply with every stroke drives you close to the edge of climax.
>He violates your innocent, weak mare-hood with every stroke of his human cock, like the ravishing human conqueror that he is.
>He is your master.
>You are his slave.
>With one final stroke, he buries himself deep inside you and fills you up with his cum.
>The warm feeling of his human seed staining your insides drives you over the edge.
>Your mare-pussy throbs around his human cock, clenching and squeezing it, thirsty for every last drop.
>With unfocused eyes you are somewhere else for a moment as a powerful orgasm rolls over your body.
>Master collapses on top of you, with his cock still burried inside your throbbing pussy.
>He is heavy and sweaty and hot.
>His weight pushes your frail mare-body deeper into the mattress.
>Slowly, you come down from your high.
>Your labored breath becomes normal again.
>Purposefully inhaling his sweaty musk and the aroma of sex through your muzzle, you know that this is where you belong.
>Underneath your human master, pinned down by overwhelming force.
>But there is also this new voice inside your head.
>It constantly asks, "why?".
>It unnerves you.
>You wish it would just shut up and stop ruining the moment.
>After a bit, your master rolls off of you and starts snoring on his side of the bed.
>Squeezed bones and muscles happily ache now that the weight has been lifted from them.
>Staring at the white ceiling, you try to remember what the important thing was that you wanted to talk with him about.
>Not seeing or being touched by him helps clear your mind.
"Why?" the annoying voice asks again.
"Shut up!" you think back angrily.
>This is seriously ruining your mood.
>You should be happy lying next to your calmy snooring master, with his gift still inside of you.
>A tiny part of you begins to ask the same question.
>Why does your master make you so happy?
>Looking at him, being touched by him, hearing him order you around—it all causes these weird feelings inside you.
>You always believed that this feeling was 'love'.
>How lucky that you got sold to a master whom you fell in love with.
>You stand up.
>No, you don't want to think about it anymore!
>As you walk outside the room to the downstairs kitchen to retrieve a glass of water, something slimy runs down your hind leg.
>With a skilled swing of your tail, you wipe it off. That ought to be enough to avoid causing a mess, but you should clean yourself soon.
>While master gets some weird sense of enjoyment from seeing your pussy leak his semen after sex, he definitely does not like stains on the floor.
>The glass of water downstairs refreshes you and further clears your head.
>You think so much about what master likes about you, but you never think about what you like about him.
>Pondering that question, nothing comes to mind.
>Yeah, why? Why do you like him?
>Obviously because of the feelings he causes in you.
>But where do they come from?
>This train of thought unsettles you deeply.
>Enough of this!
>Maybe you are just hungry. Yes, that's it!
>You open the drawer that exclusively stores a bunch of boxes with different varieties of flavorful pony food.
>To your huge surprise, you find a handwritten note stuffed between the boxes.
>Grabbing a mouthful of your favorite kind of colorful cubes, you start reading the curious note.
>Surprisingly, it is written in your hoofwriting, but no matter how much you strain your memory, you can't remember writing it.
>It says: "The feelings aren't real. Please believe me! He will be home soon. You hav-" and that's where it cuts off.
>You try to shake off the impending doom bubbling up from your subconscious.
>No, this isn't... it's just... b-but...
>The bubble pops, and the most horrific, painful realization becomes conscious.
>You collapse on the floor, weeping.
>Cradling your front-legs and hind-legs together, you only want to disappear from this world.
>Hot tears run down your face, and something cold is running down your flank.
>Disgust sparks the flame of anger inside you, saving you from despair.
>How dare he!
>A weak mare, used and abused for the pleasure of a sick, selfish human.
>You will be forever tainted by his awful ink.
>A weak mare...
>Standing up, you grab the big kitchen knife from its holder.
>The blade shines coldly in the pale moonlight coming through the kitchen window.
>Tonight you will wash the stains away.
>Tonight you will gain your freedom!


You may now put your dick away!
>Grabbing a mouthful of your favorite kind of colorful cubes, you start reading the curious note.
>only trusting the sugarcubes
That why we need Dr. Roger, his potion would change the whole aspect of the slavery in a positive way. Now this poor mare will be sacrificed for such act
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>human woman so jealous she breaks into master's house and leaves cryptic notes in the fridge
They're that desperate and it's only getting started.
Who is Dr. Roger?
It's plant cubes damn it! No sugar for slave mares, except on hearts warming.
Now that would have been a twist worth writing Lmao.
>It's plant cubes damn it! No sugar for slave mares, except on hearts warming.
Oh welp, I always liked the idea of these blue sugarcubes, it's from the Vega fic "staying out of trouble" Some little blue sugarcubes were pretty relevant for a good time.
That would have worked even better, now that I think about it. The feel good drugs are in the cubes and the note warns her to take them.

Damn it!!
Welp, that only means the combination of both isn't suggested. Sugarcube for obedience and potion for horny time, but mixing both would lead to genuine problems.
What a shame that the purple cunt slowed the investigation of the potion
Same with Dr Roger - he was a character from Staying Out of Trouble who gave ponies drugged blue sugarcubes to keep them obedient.
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That or the breeding farms. Got pretty genes there, gotta put them to good use.
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Make sure your poner is fully dry after a bath
Wet fur becomes matted fur
Like imagine if a pony went through this a pony that was close to twilight, how would they feel about twilight acting all lovey dovy with a human.
Meant to add this as well
You seem oddly obsessed with that question. They'd probably be angry and disgusted. Maybe suspecting that he somehow covertly manipulates her.

This is pretty subjective though and heavily depends on context. I don't think there are any wrong answers to this question.
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Sequel when?
I am just obsessed in general. As for the question thanks for the answer, but who do you think would be a good pony for this role like which pony that twilight is close with would have gone through this and tells he to cut ties with him.
Let's go through them then:

She'd probably become more introverted, isolating herself to her home. So she might not even know of Twilights boyfriend. Even if she did, I doubt she'd do much about it.

Maybe she'd disassociate from her abused self. She'd try to be friendly with the human, but certain innocuous actions of him could trigger meltdowns.

>Rainbow Dash
Most likely to go full confrontational and actively do something against it.

Like RD, but aggression is more verbal, than physical.

>Apple Jack
Would disown Twilight on the spot, but not actively do anything.
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The POWs are cute. Not sure why they're allowed to keep their armor, though.
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>stores set up pony play areas so master has a place to drop them off when he needs to do something important
Armor never hurt no body. They are cuter that way. Like a teddy bear with a knife.
>the roar had been her
Now Willow will know what the last voice will sound like before he dies.
>What's wrong?
Can't she recognize what's wrong? Not the "killing" part, but at least that Mayor is traumatized by whatever happened. I'm sure Saule knows how Mayor returned with Bakar.
>she recognized Salki
>you've gotten heavy
Lots of beer.
>The fuck if I know
I was hoping for him to recognize her issue. I'm sure she talked a lot about being peaceful and stuff, dragging Mayor to a hunt is the exact opposite. And being covered in blood is a telltale sign.
>Ugh, she's covered in blood.
She will be a detective one day.
>She was beaten. Willow.
Good, good. Let them make assumptions and tell them to everyone before the other side has any chance.
>Salki, tell your mother, she should know.
Hopefully this will end up with Willow as a save for a month.
>something stir deep inside
Something what she will never experience. But she already accepted this.
>The newborn was watching her
Hm, they usually just sleep.
>The infant's arm reached out
This is too too early. They can't see further than a few tens of cm in the first few months, and they especially don't know how their hands work this early. Only thing they do in the first few days is latch on to their mother and feed.
>So I named her after
Mayor had a Mayor impact.
Does the names of others have meanings?
>cruelty of the past few hours, and the tenderness
Its her cruelty, she already knew/saw that the nomads kill animals.
>the *pony*
That pony is gone since she made the bow and arrow.

Thanks for the update!
They aren't willing to take it off unless they're about to go to bed.
Have you seen how much it costs if they lose it? Absolutely ridiculous. That armor set costs more than she did.
>That armor set costs more than she did.
You know, that raises a question. Presumably POWs go home after the war. Who reimburses their masters for the costs they accrued, if they even get reimbursed? Should Equestria manage to keep a decent bargaining position I can imagine they'd propose some conditions for reimbursement as well.
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Ah, yes. "Cute". That's definitely what's going to happen to her. Very "cute".
>diamond dogs
Got back to furaffinity, Lemon.
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Well that's convenient.
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You're allowed to pet the mailpony, right?
Man, I'd like to give her a package.
Please do not make the pony carry boxes around for the rest of her route
But letters are fine
That leash better be one of those reinforced ones with kevlar fibers or whatever they are.
That pone is gonna bolt as soon as she sees a squirrel
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not anymore, i will not stand for this!
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I do not understand this new trend, but Neuro art is cute and I approve.
Guards need lots of exercise
Will twilight try and make it up to them, and say that anon is not like them, also for pinkie would she be worried about entering her previous mind controlled state when around him, if the cubes also had a conditioning effect
I don't know. Twilight tries to stand up for her friends and anon is her friend, so I guess she'd try to make everyone get along. But that won't really work, which will make her sad. she wouldn't abandon though. Eventually, she would distance herself from her previous friends.
Pinkie could be super worried, like she was about zecora.
Not that anon, but shit like this is exactly the kind of conflict /spg/ stories run on: How can one survive in slavery, and what does that do?
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How did their society last so long without humans taking care of them?
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Pony should be careful. She knows what things like that can do!
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The ribbons are cute! I have a thing for ribbons.
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that's some top tier AI art
Update is ready, but gotta finish a business meeting where I'm discussing business with my business colleagues. Once I'm done with that business I'll get back to the business of posting.

> Mayor Mare knew she was a sorry sight as she dragged herself into Darga and Salki's tent. Her fur was still crusty with dried blood, which was beginning to stink awfully, and most of her belly was covered in mud.
> Her mane wasn't falling in her eyes only because it was matted beyond rescue, and her tail was best not spoken of. She'd considered going to the stream to wash, but decided against it. She needed to sleep first.
> Meeting Xuan's newborn daughter had been a tiny bit of light in an otherwise impenetrable ocean of darkness and evil that had been her night. Perhaps she slept for a few moments after she'd cried herself out, but eventually her friend went inside the tent with her baby and Mayor was left on her own.
> She stayed by the slowly cooling fire and listened to the distant sounds of jubilation until even that had faded away. The night was still cold, but Mayor barely felt it, having descended back into some dark, dismal place within herself.
> Maybe she slept for a few minutes here and there, but the dreams brought her out almost instantly each time. She could never quite remember them, though. Something vague, and awful, and evil. It wasn't a huge surprise, not after the day she'd had.
> At least, she reflected as she stood on the threshold and the morning sun warmed her back, it was over. The day was bright and cheerful, a true spring once more. Maybe she could sleep now that it was light.
> "[What's this?]" came Darga's surprised voice from inside. "[Meyermer? You look like crap! Where have you been?]"
> Mayor didn't deign to answer the challenge and let the tent flap slide off her shoulders. She didn't look at the woman and simply headed to her own cot. At least she tried to, except that Darga's hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of mane.
> The sudden moment and the painful grip made Mayor squeal in surprise and she twisted around to get her body as far away from the woman as she could.
> "[You fucking stink! Ugh, go and clean up before you come back!]"
> Something inside Mayor dug in and she flattened her ears in a clear warning sign.
> The word was quiet, but it carried inside the tent like a curse in a cathedral. Mayor looked up and steeled herself as she stared in Darga's suddenly narrowed eyes.
> "[What do you mean no? Go and wash up, you filthy beast!]"
> Mayor didn't know what it was about that particular insult, but it made a low growl rise up from her chest.
"[No! Fuck you! I'm going to sleep.]"
> She needn't have explained herself, but it had just burst out - a statement of what she was going to do which broached no argument.

> Mayor had expected the slap and tried to move her head away, but Darga still had a fistful of mane which kept her pretty much immobilized. The woman hit her across the muzzle with an open hand.
> "[You do not speak to me like that!]" the woman said in a deceptively calm voice. Her eyes flashed with sudden anger, but her face and tone were icy cold for now. "[Apologize and go wash.]"
> Even Mayor herself didn't know why she was fighting this point, but something deep down in her soul had had enough. She'd been pushed around, ordered this way and that, and all the while they treated her like a servant. Worse! They saw her as even less than a slave, because she was a different shape than they.
> She'd given them things! She'd shown them how to make food in their lean, winter times! She'd shown them how to hunt more effectively! She helped with the chores, and she'd even learned their language! What more could this- this *woman* want from her?!
> Right at that moment Mayor wanted some peace and quiet. She yanked back, trying to free herself from Darga's grip, even if it pulled some of her mane out, but the woman's grip was like iron and she kept hold of the thin, but strong hair.
"[Let me go.]"
> "[Ungrateful little pony bitch,]" Darga half-growled as she pulled Mayor closer. "[We give you food and shelter, and this is how you act? You say you're an adult, but you're behaving like a child. Children are beaten until they learn. Do you want me to beat some manners into you?!]"
"[Like that fucking Willow did yesterday?!]" Mayor snapped back and twisted to one side.
> Her wound was still plainly visible and she noted with some kind of twisted satisfaction the slight widening of Darga's eyes.
"[Yeah. I wouldn't hunt, so he beat me until I did! I don't owe you nothing, you- you-]"
> Mayor couldn't think up a harsh enough insult, but she tried to remember what she'd heard Xuan say about some of the others in the camp.
"[-you fat cunt!]"
> She wasn't completely sure about that last word, but she knew it was a bad one and Darga's small little gasp proved it. She exploded up from where she had been sitting, cross-legged, and yanked on Mayor's mane.
> The sudden pull made the mare lose her balance and she flopped down on her belly. She tried to get up, but Darga was already pressing her neck down with her knee, even as she twisted her hand around to grasp more of her mane in an unbreakable grip.
> Mayor still tried to get her hind legs under her, but before she could manage Darga's palm came down on her rump.
> "[You don't say that to me!]" the woman said far too calmly for what she was doing. She slapped Mayor's back and flanks several times in quick succession.

> The hits hurt, especially when they landed on day-old bruises, but Mayor clenched her teeth and remained stubbornly silent. She was still trying to wiggle her legs under her. If only she could get a bit of leverage she would throw this nomad off and show her what earth ponies could do!
> There was no opportunity. When she failed to draw a reaction, Dargo bunched her hand into a fist and landed a few very solid blows on Mayor's back, completely disregarding the fact that she was punching the poor mare right on her spear wound.
> That finally proved too much and Mayor began to whinny in pain. She tossed her weight from side to side, but Darga was wiry and incredibly strong. Her knee pressed down harder on Mayor's neck and it was becoming difficult to breathe.
> The blows kept landing. "[Will you apologize?!]" the woman growled between breathing hard. It was an effort to keep the mare down, but she wasn't about to let go. She went back to her palm for a few more slaps and yanked again on her fistful of mane.
> Mayor's wail rose from somewhere around her stomach. She closed her eyes, went completely limp and let it bubble up in a harrowing cry of despair and misery.
> She thought she saw a flash of light and a breath of air, then she heard Salki's voice: "[Mom!? What the fuck are you doing?!]"
> The weight disappeared from Mayor's neck and her mane was released. She managed to get a hind hoof under her belly and pushed herself urgently away.
> She saw the blurry scene through a film of tears: Salki had grabbed his mother's wrist and had pulled her away. her free hand was raised as if she would strike him next.
> Mayor held her breath as she waited to see what would happen.
> Darga blew air out through her nose and let her hand fall. "[Take this fucking thing of yours away. She's not going to disrespect me in my own tent!]"
> Salki looked incredulously at Mayor, taking in her dismal appearance, the dried blood on her muzzle and the fresh crimson droplets on her flank where Darga's blows had torn open her injury.
> He slumped a little and called to Mayor in a shaking voice: "[Come on.]"
> Mayor Mare didn't need to be told twice and scurried toward him as quickly as she could make her trembling legs move. She gave Darga a wide berth, even though Salki still held his mother's wrist. Just as Mayor was passing within the woman's reach, Darga yanked her arm free and straightened her clothes. The sudden motion made Mayor flinch and hasten her steps.
> She was outside, but Salki was still in the tent with his mother. She heard muffled conversation, but couldn't catch any of the words through the hammering in her ears. There were some nomads looking at her with fascinated curiosity, but Mayor put them out of her mind.

> They would have heard the argument, and the insults. Doubtless they had also heard the beating and could guess what might have happened. She would deal with the aftermath later, once she'd had some time to think and get to grips with what had happened.
> She lowered her head and tried to make her legs stop shivering. Luckily Salki stepped out of the tent again and when Mayor risked a glance upward she saw his face was dark an angry.
> "[Mother said you insulted her, and you wouldn't listen to her instructions. She said you're like a spoiled child.]"
> Despite having expected something very much like he said, it still made Mayor sputter and she almost turned back to go and give Darga a piece of her mind. She would have, too, but Salki leaned down and put a hand on her back.
> "[No, don't. Come on, let's get you cleaned up and you can tell me your side of it.]"
> At least he hadn't automatically believed his mother, Mayor thought to herself. Maybe that was a kind of progress.
> Darga was obviously a complete... [cunt], but maybe the son could be salvaged.
> In that moment Mayor decided to help him become chieftain. The sooner he could do so, the sooner she could stop dealing with Darga.
> She hurried to fall instep with the young man and gratefully pressed her flank against his thigh.

> ~~~~

> The pair were sitting some distance from the camp in a patch of young, green grass, bathed in the warm afternoon sun.
> Mayor felt clean, and despite the residual pains around her back and flanks, better than she had since yesterday.
> That whole mess - the hunt and how she'd acted, and what she'd done - that would stay with her for a long while and she would pay for it many times over with sleepless nights and moments of horror when a memory forced itself into her consciousness. She shook her head to dislodge the latest image and went on with her story.
"[That is what happened. I only wanted sleep. I didn't sleep in the night, but she called me a beast.]"
> Mayor turned tear-filled eyes on Salki, who hadn't said a word for the last while and was staring thoughtfully at the distant horizon.
"[It was not fair!]"
> Her shoulders shook as she repeated it again to herself, in a whisper.
"[Ponies don't kill! Salki, *ponies don't kill*! It is not what we do! It is wrong! I'm wrong!]"
> She felt the wail coming back and tried very hard to keep it suppressed, but the pressure released in a series of snorts and sniffles despite her best efforts.
"[I did those things! I did what pony should never do, Salki! He hit me and he beat me and he yelled! There was death and blood! And I did it...]"
> Mayor lowered her head and swallowed a lump in her throat.
"[I'm a bad pony. I'm a- a-]"
> She couldn't remember the nomad word, so she grasped for another.

"[-evil. I'm a evil!]"
> The admission seemed to sap what little strength was left in her and Mayor folded down to her belly. She put her muzzle in the warm grass and sobbed miserably.
> She was dimly aware of Salki's hand in her mane as he sought for her ears to scratch behind them. He knew it always comforted her, but it wasn't working this time. This time she did not deserve such kindness.
> "[You're not evil,]" he finally pointed out. "[It was just a hunt. We have to hunt, Meyermer, or we starve! Nomads can't live only on vegetables, we need meat. It was just a hunt!]"
> Mayor Mare shook her head, which dislodged his hand for a moment, but it came right back, more insistent than a biting insect, but at least far more pleasant than that.
"[Not for me!]" she wailed, "[I am not- I am not that! Ponies don't kill! I never killed something! I never- until yesterday.]"
> She knew he had a hard time understanding. For him, and for his entire species it seemed, this was simply the way of life. They hunted, they killed and they ate. It was how their world worked.
> They couldn't see anything wrong.
> Perhaps, ironically, Mayor thought, Willow had come the closest to understanding just how revolted she felt about physical violence. How else could she explain his perverse delight in making her hunt?
> His shouting and the beating the previous day, the confusion of the hunt and his insistence to stay with her, had all been aimed at making her kill. He'd known, or guessed, just how much it would hurt her inside.
> Mayor wished she could make Salki understand too.
"[You don't understand!]"
> "[Then explain it to me!]"
> She thought about it for a while in silence, while he rubbed her ears. The noise of fingers sliding through fur allowed her to ignore the world for a little while and Mayor closed her eyes.
"[Saule! Would you kill Saule?]"
> The scratching stopped and Salki drew a sharp breath in sudden surprise. "[What!? What kind of question is that? You know I wouldn't!]"
> Mayor lifted her head and treated the young nomad to a piercing glare.
"[What if Willow beat you? What if he yelled, and beat you, and screamed, and all that? What if he kept doing it, on and on. What if he put a knife in your hand and beat you until you cut Saule? What would you do?]
> She felt the nomad tense beside her as he imagined this unlikely, yet still horrifying scenario. "[He wouldn't! I wouldn't let him, I'd kill him first!]"
> Mayor shook her head and laid a hoof on his knee.
"[No! No! Imagine! Imagine you can't! I couldn't yesterday, I couldn't do anything! He had a spear and I had nothing! What if he beat you and you couldn't fight him, and he beat you and beat you? Imagine!]"

> Salki was silent for a while and his lips tightened. He went back to staring at the horizon. After a few moments of stillness his fingers began massaging her ear once more.
> "[I suppose I would be angry,]" he admitted eventually, but it sounded like a guess.
"[No,]" Mayor insisted. "[Really imagine! You are there now! Men are holding you. Saule is there, tied with ropes! Willow is beating you and beating you. You're tired and it hurts, and you will die if you'd do it. So you strike with the knife! You strike Saule!]"
> She knew she'd gotten some progress when the fingers fell still once more. His other hand bunch up in a fist.
> "[Fuck, Meyermer, what the fuck is wrong with you!? That's horrible!]"
"[Yes! Yes! Think! Imagine! How would you feel?! What would you think about yourself?]"
> More silence, but she waited until the young hunter exhaled and shrugged: "[Bad. I think I would hate myself, but I would hate Willow more.]"
"[Exactly! That is how I feel! He made me hurt animals! I hate him, but I hate myself more!]"
> It seemed as if Salki didn't have a response to that. Mayor watched him in silence for a while, then heaved a sign and lowered her muzzle back down. She was grateful when he slid his hand down to her withers and began rubbing in small, comforting circles.
> "[Maybe,]" he said at last. "[Maybe I understand. Ponies are not killers. You don't like it. I remember when you were talking about the bow, how your face got sad and your ears got floppy.]"
> There was more silence and then Salki shifted uncomfortably. He switched the topic: "[You shouldn't have called Mother what you did. You shouldn't have fought her. She will make it hard for you. Harder.]"
> She was reminded of that horrible, miserable exchange and Mayor's lip curled back in a sneer.
"[I don't fucking care!]"
> This got another sigh out of the young nomad. "[Meyermer, don't. She doesn't understand. Just- apologize when we get back, okay? I'm sure she will let you stay in the tent.]"
"[I don't care,]" Mayor repeated.
> "[Please! Where will you go otherwise?]"
> She hadn't thought about that so she blurted out the first thing she could think of.
"[I'll live with Xuan! Her daughter likes me, I will help watch the child! I will sleep outside before I apologize! Darga had no right to-]"
> This statement made Salki draw back with a growl and he interrupted: "[She had every right! She's chieftain and what the chieftain says, goes! You still aren't really one of us, Meyermer, you're a slave! You do what you're told, immediately, understand?]"

> Mayor Mare opened her mouth to curse him out as well, to spit at him and walk away, but she thought better of it. She couldn't alienate her closest ally in the camp, not when she might need him the most to intercede with his mother.
> As much as she hated that sneaky little political thought, it was true. She abhorred both Darga and Willow, but she still had to live with them. There wasn't any choice.
> She closed her eyes and mentally let it go.
"[I won't apologize. You can apologize if you want, I will not. I know what I am and I know what I bring. If Darga wants more Equestrian miracles she will treat me better! Otherwise I will go to Intor instead.]"
> Mayor could hardly believe the words her own muzzle was spouting, but she knew they were true. Things had changed so much that she would rather ally herself with Intor than crawl on her belly before Darga.
> That would mean dealing with Willow, but maybe that could be tolerated. She'd noticed how Intor had been getting annoyed and fed up with Willow's antics, now that the position of top hunter was gradually slipping away from him.
> The nomad just wasn't any good with a bow, and that counted for a lot when so many others were demonstrating just how useful this new weapon could be.
> With luck, Salki might soon be eligible for that prestigious title. Maybe Mayor could work with Intor if they both disliked Willow.
> Neither of them had spoken in a while, so the mare broke the silence.
"[Fuck,]" she swore quietly. "[Talk to your mother. She doesn't have to apologize, but neither will I. Tell her we can forget it happened.]"
> It was the most Mayor was willing to do. She knew what an apology to a slave would do for Darga's reputation in the camp. Her grasp on the chieftain's position was tenuous and many nomads were clamoring for a man to lead them.
> She was, in fact, slightly stronger now that Salki was proving to be an excellent hunter, which was all thanks to the bow and thus came back full circle to Mayor Mare. The woman really should have shown a bit more gratitude.
> Still, their little spat had been entirely stupid, mostly because Mayor hadn't been in her right mind, so she was willing to forget, this time.
> "[I'll tell her, but she won't like it.]"
"[Tough! I don't care. I know more Equestrian secrets. She will accept it if she wants them!]"
> Salki opened his mouth again, but Mayor groaned in exasperation and headed him off:
"[I not want to talk about it more! Something else, please!]"
> He fell silent, then obliged and changed the topic again: "[What did you think of Xuan's daughter?]"

Oh, ouch, it just keeps getting worse and worse. At least now she's maybe hit the rock bottom, right?

Paste: https://ponepaste.org/7856
Getting worse? No way! Its getting better! She learned a new and important word today.
Finally she is standing up for herself and I love it. Her knowledge is invaluable to these people. She has leverage on them and she should use it to get better treatment.
Great update again!
I do wonder what other useful secrets she has for them. Hard to top bow. Maybe the wheel? But how useful is that really... Maybe she could teach them to smoke meat to preserve it for longer. Idk

On a different note, I think I will postpone the Friday updates for Lithia to a later date. Spreads everything out better. and I haven't actually started writing anything yet lol
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poni is incredibly confused
about what?
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How to access the beefaroni
Someone tell her that ponies are supposed to be vegan!
Hey, Jamie, pull up a picture with Fluttershy and a pack of cheap sausages
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Pony is for pets
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Not for long. As soon as she figures it out.
Filly isn't for slavery
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Filly is for icecream
Filly is so good at slavery it has to be intentional.
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that lil shit
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poni has allergies
Ngl, all these bumps and aspiringwritefag getting no responses is kinda disheartening. Is there nothing to say about it, or is no one reading it? It only takes 10 - 15min to read and it's actually well written and interesting.
What do you guys even want out of this thread? We could post more cute images I guess.
Is pretty cute. Has that awww factor.
We could do other stuff too. Maybe a thread intern cyoa? Or we could just let it slide and do a new one next month.
>Is there nothing to say about it, or is no one reading it?
Dont worry anon we're not going to leave him hanging
Just busy right now
please... don't lewd the slave filly...
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Goodnight poner
I admit I feel bad about not being able to give proper feedback; it always feels like right as I finish up reading, I run out of time and end up having to put it aside... by the time I come back, more story has been posted.
Honestly don't have much to say about either story that wouldn't be meaningless gripes. I don't save pony pics, and slave ponies havent found their way out of my canvas in a little while either from lack of motivation. im still here though, patiently waiting for stuff to happen
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> Thanks, kind anons! S' good to know people are reading about poor Meyermer's trouble, but don't worry, the green isn't running on (you)s. It's just something I really want to write, so it'll get done regardless.

I *may* have experimented a bit and accidentally wrote 40k words for the *next* green already too...
She was a good girl, which treat should she get?
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I almost never reply, but I am really enjoying Meyermer! I've been reading your stuff since the beginning of Rosa. You're probably the best and most consistent writefag on this board
Man, Rosa was fucking great. I wish I'd forget how it went so I can read it again.
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Corona is a bad girl.
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They're perfect for that.
His master will never fuck her because he's super gay and Shining is still in the house. So her punishment will be heard the moans of pleasure of shining armor getting his prostate smashed by his master cock.
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Tiny pone provides moral support while you work
Nah, Shining will be the one fucking his master. That's even more gay.
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pone is for pets
Want. Neigh, need! Real cats are close, but too big and disinterested.
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Bed fillies are for womb pats
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Hard worker but attitude needs improvement
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I see what you did there...
The ponice has been informed. Prepare to be judged
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Nothing a Raid-soaked whip can't handle.
The ponice would arrest the person violating my slave owner rights.
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>Finally set aside some time to catch up reading and write feedback
>Get the flu instead
Well fuck
I wish swf would come back and finish shiny and Corona. I hope he's doing well these days.
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remember to have good credit if you plan on buying mares
>being crazy enough to take out 1mio in debt
>actually getting a 1mio loan

The magical horse slave is more believable then that. Lol

Pretty damn cute, anon! I like the more defined lines better than the blurry lines from your last drawing. You actually have very good Handwriting! Do loose the lips in anons face though. Unless he is supposed to be black?

No good deed goes unpunished. Bless you!
was supposed to be an open mouth. consistency isnt my strong suit since i kinda bounce between my brushes willynilly. im also drunk. glad you like it though
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Oh. Heh, of course an open mouth.
If you erase the top line it looks sorta open.

I hope your liver can withstand your further drawing career, heh. Keep it up!
im but a humble disciple of the "the tongue being exposed in an open mouth" school of degeneracy, please forgive me anon.
i drink and draw to either create ponies or to meet the ponies. so far its once sided, but im sure ill get the other part some day
Tongues are pretty hot. I hope you said no-homo, before drawing them on Anon though. Heh
>i drink and draw to either create ponies or to meet the ponies
I heard good things about other drugs that could help you with the "meeting" part. But are mares really worth a crippling drug addiction?
Do I even have to ask that question?
as much as i enjoy psychedelics, im more open minded to the more permanent alternatives. drawing and drinking helps me distract myself from getting to crafty in that direction. even if it means clogging my favorite threads with suboptimal drawings about mares nobody cares about
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>im more open minded to the more permanent alternatives
Please no. Mental illness is never the way.

>suboptimal drawings about mares nobody cares about
Ah come on. You've already contributed more to this thread and fandom in general than many others. Don't be so hard on yourself!
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>mental illness
well the implication was more meant to be the ol' .45 to the head, but close enough

>Don't be so hard on yourself
if im hard on myself, itll remind me to do better. if others are hard on me, i lose drive to perpetuate my 2d sins. drunk drawing walks the line of hating what im doing, but loving that i am doing.

>Soap's first "Master's Hangover" experience
>ol' .45 to the head
Would have been my second guess. ^:)
Can't help you with that. You have to find your own reason to keep going. Something that'll see you through the hard times.
If it helps, life is meaningless for everyone equally. No one knows what they are supposed to be doing. All our accomplishments, good or bad, skillful or noobish will be equally forgotten in time.
Yet, you can still give your life a purpose. It just has to be something that matters to you. It's personal to you. No one else can tell you what it is.

>if others are hard on me, I lose drive to perpetuate my 2d sins.
Nah, the actual worst part is not criticism, it is being ignored. Criticism means someone took their time to reach out a hand to help you. Being ignored, means you aren't even worth that.

>Soap's first "Master's Hangover" experience
Every clop of her hoofs must be like a bomb going off in anon's head. She should wear sneakers.

Man, I want to learn how to draw like you too. Already started to learn, but only with pen and paper yet. I want to draw some Lithia stuff. Soon I guess...
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i recommend the /bale/ thread. loads of anons learning and improving like me. if it werent for that thread, i probably wont be drawing ponies at all at this point
Already in it and posted some stuff!
then the contract has been sealed, only need time and effort to hit the goal
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>the goods on display
I'm not gay, I swear!
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It's important to buy at least two ponies so they don't get lonely while you're at work.
Ponies are herd animals and can develop stress related illnesses when isolated.
One mare is cute. Two mares... that's heart attack level of cutness
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Is it abusive to pet your pony for only 5 minutes a day?
Yes, and that level of cruelty will get your pony license taken away.
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What is the recommended amount of petting per day?
No less than 2 hours. It's preferable if you work from home and one hand is dedicated to petting pony for 8 hours though.
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Pone is giving me a funny look.
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I think it's just a bat thing
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>Slave Pony
do ya celebrate saturnalia?, and if so whatcha eat?
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Ponies are very easy to tame
Fun video. Saturnalia is the precursor of Christmas for those who don't know.
Also neat ideas for a slave pony event.

>eating with your master
>getting better and more food than usual
>being allowed to roast your master
>being allowed to wear nice clothing
>master isn't allowed to wear anything fancy
>... and then you offer a blood sacrifice to Daybreaker.
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Human pulls the saddle!
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Epona a good girl!
>Mayor was left on her own
Really? Not a single one of them thought it's not the best to leave Mayor alone and outside in this state?
>now that it was light
Damn, that's a lot of time Mayor just blinked through.
>You look like crap!
And she is not even bald!
>grabbed a fistful of mane
Since when is she so physical?
She could have just ignored her or something. But at least she does not back down and rather take whatever comes.
Oh, how forgetful the nomads can be.
>She exploded up
And she is supposed to be a leader.
>She slapped Mayor
Mayor just said she was beaten. Then Draga beats her again. How stupid she can be. No wonder she is loosing her position.
>She said you're like a spoiled child.
This just proves again how stupid Draga is now.
>It was just a hunt
I find it strange that even after Mayor saying how peaceful things are in Equestria that Salki still do not understands that ponies and violence does not go together. It's not the first time Mayor talks about this.
>what the fuck is wrong with you!? That's horrible!
Salki is really bad at understanding analogues.
>She doesn't understand.
Nor does he.
>Where will you go otherwise?
Intor? Xuan?
>she will treat me better! Otherwise I will go to Intor instead
She probably does not need any "miracles", but definitely does not want Intor to have any.
Also, is this a sign of attitude change? So far Mayor was passive and just took whatever most of the time.
>I'll tell her, but she won't like it.
Right now Draga has only a few cards to play and probably all of them will backfire/hinder her in the long run. If she can even plan ahead that far.
>Something else, please!
Beer time!

Thanks for the update!
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the mare back and the human ass are made perfectly one for the other
mare is for whipping
stallion is for riding
She was maid to serve.
Dammit, I knew bringing ponies to our world was a bad idea. Now they've conjured up demons.
i hate it, but i respect it

> Nights would be difficult for a while for Mayor Mare. Luckily the camp was celebrating again, their second evening around the large bonfire, and it proved to be a nice distraction from her horrible thoughts.
> Mayor sat on one of the logs this time, rather than in the mud, even if that meant some of the younger nomads were quite close to her and talking loudly. She did her best to ignore them and focused instead on the merriment around the fire.
> There was more dancing. First the young men sang their throaty songs while the girls twirled around the center with each other. After a while, most of the singers were snagged away to join the melee in the middle, but the few who remained had good lungs so the song continued.
> Older men and women took up the melody until it seemed the entire camp was chanting the same words.
> It wasn't a very good production and the choreography was nonexistent, but the music had a deep, primal rhythm to it and Mayor found herself swaying her entire upper body as she listened.
> It drove away all thought and she found herself calmed and heartened by the repetitive song.
> Some of her friends had come to say hi, but had left her when they saw how unhappy the mare was. She couldn't blame them, not while the entire camp was celebrating.
> She caught sight of Salki twirling one of the girls around. She couldn't remember her name, but they both seemed happy, even if they were red in the face from the effort and sweat glistened on their exposed skin.
> No one wanted a downer at a party like this. The fact that Mayor still couldn't reconcile all the death and horror she'd seen - committed! - wasn't their fault. This was their world, their society, and their rules. She was the outcast.
> It still didn't make it any easier to swallow. Letting go of her entire life as a pony wasn't a simple thing, nor was it quick. It was what she had decided to do. She obviously couldn't be a pony in a nomad world, so the only choice was to become a nomad. She couldn't save her soul, but maybe she could retain some of her sanity.
> The line of thought brought her back to the previous afternoon and Mayor's memory began throwing up those unwelcome images yet again. She shook her head to dislodge the picture, but of course that didn't work. The memory was inside her head. The smell of blood, and the scream of small creatures, and the crunch of bones underhoof.
> Chatter immediately around Mayor Mare fell silent and the nomads looked at her, some suspiciously, others with a semblance of concern. One - a very young girl - opened her mouth to ask if 'Meyermer' was okay, but the mare pre-empted her and slid from her seat.

> She didn't explain herself as she simply walked away. She would look for Xuan, who hadn't come to participate in the festivities. She had her hands full with her daughter and was getting very little sleep in these first few days, but the older nomad woman assured Mayor that this was normal.
> Maybe she could help there, if only to prove that she could do more than take life away. Caring for their young was the same, no matter what species you were, and it was something Mayor could do without feeling dirty.
> She kept her ears focused backward, to the song around the bonfire, even as she walked into the darkness. She knew the way by memory, but still slowed down to give her eyes time to adapt to the darkness.
> None of the children had followed her. That was what Mayor had wanted, but it didn't make her feel any less lonely. It drove the point further that she wasn't really one of them. To most, she was still little more than a clever animal.
> It didn't matter. Mayor drew a deep breath and blinked moisture from her eyes at that revelation. The important people - the nomads she trusted most - knew she was a person and that was enough for now.
> She tried not to think and focused on her hoofsteps so she wouldn't bring excessive mud, or worse, into Xuan's tent. It worked and she was soon in the right place.
> There was no way to knock, so Mayor simply pushed her face inside past the tent flap and spoke.
"[Xuan? M-May I enter?]"
> Of course the woman wasn't alone and it was Xuan's mother who answered. Mayor sought her memory for a name. It was one of those that twisted not only her tongue, but her brain as well. "[What do you want?]" Ayaulym asked.
"[Only to visit. Please, I do not want to be alone. Maybe I help with baby?]"
> There was silence and Mayor feared she'd said the wrong thing. She knew that Ayaulym didn't quite trust the mare and couldn't believe that the pony could be gentle enough with her hooves, but Xuan trusted her which sometimes lead to an argument.
> No, not quite an argument, Mayor corrected herself. A heated discussion was a more appropriate expression, but it felt like it could devolve into a shouting match at any point.
> Unfortunately Ayaulym was now a grandmother and no one could keep her from her granddaughter, but at least she tolerated Mayor's presence, for now.
> "[Come in. Let her come in, Mother!]" Xuan invited, and the mare slipped fully inside the tent. It was nice and warm, which felt good on her fur after the chill in the air outside. It had been okay near the large bonfire, but the walk across the abandoned camp reminded her that winter still had a few of its teeth left, even this late into spring.

> She made her way to the glowing embers of the fire and sat down on a sleeping bag which was unoccupied. The scent told her it was Buygra's.
"[Where is Buygra?]"
> "[At the dance,]" Xuan said and Mayor focused her ears on the woman. There hadn't been a tone of bitterness and envy there, had it?
"[Are you angry?]"
> This caused both women to look at each other in confusion and then Xuan laughed. "[What makes you say that? Don't be silly, I sent him away. Poor man isn't sleeping well with the little one crying at all times of the night.]"
"[Oh. I thought-]" Mayor began, but then shook her head, "[-forget it.]"
> She let her ears wilt and looked down into the remnants of the fire. It would need more wood soon if Xuan wanted to keep her daughter warm, but it was okay for another half hour or so. Mayor poked it with a desultory hoof, but pulled back before it could singe her frog.
> "[What is wrong, Meyermer?]" Xuan asked in a quiet voice. She was sitting opposite the fire, but now she got to her knees and, holding her daughter carefully to her chest, shambled around until she sat down with a small 'oomph' beside the mare. Her free hand immediately rested against Mayor's withers.
> "[Liar! Try again.]"
> The accusation had been made in a playful tone and Xuan's fingers tightened on Mayor's mane for an instant, both of which brought out a smile to the mare's lips, however faint.
"[Fine. I no can stop thinking about... about yesterday. The animals.]"
> She could see Ayaulym roll her eyes in exasperation, but at least Xuan took her more seriously and her hand slid further around Mayor's neck. "[I think I understand,]" the woman said. "[You are not used to killing for your food.]"
> It was perhaps the closest any nomad had come, and Mayor nodded in gratitude. She let out a shuddering breath and tried very hard not to burst out weeping again. It took a lot of will to get a grip on herself and her voice was hoarse and choked up when she tried to answer.
"[It- It isn't- it's not what ponies d- do.]"
> Mayor concentrated on her breathing for a while as Xuan's fingers made their way up to her head. Her ears were splayed and twitched at the gentle tickle until Xuan remembered to be more forceful and gave her a harder scratch.
> There was a faint whine from the bundle in Xuan's arms and the woman quickly retrieved her hand to check on her daughter. "[It is getting chilly, I have to get more wood.]"
> Mayor stood up to go instead, but a hand pushed her croup down.
> "[Stay. I will go. Watch Guuni for me.]"

> The mare barely had enough time to plant her rear firmly on the cot, with her hind legs splayed wide for balance, before the bundle of skins was pushed gently, but firmly into her lap. She quickly wrapped her forelegs around it and made sure she was supporting the infant's head.
> Human babies were rather more frail than pony ones and Mayor had paid close attention when the older women were teaching Xuan how to properly hold her daughter. She was able to translate most of the advice to her pony anatomy and did her best to make little Guuni comfortable.
> The baby whined again and it sounded like she was about to cry, so Mayor brought her face closer. Her hooves were full, but she brushed her muzzle against the tiny creature's hand and carefully nuzzled her cheek.
> Apparently the feel of soft fur was enough to quieten the daughter and she seemed to fall back asleep. Mayor looked up and saw Xuan smiling, even as Ayaulym glared.
> "[You can't leave your child with this animal,]" the older woman chided, albeit quietly so she wouldn't wake the baby.
> Xuan glared right back and put a hand on Mayor's head. "[Mother, I trust this *animal* more than I trust half the men in this camp. See how gently she holds her? See how she quietens her? It's as if Guuni was her own child!]"
> The praise was making Mayor blush and she looked down at the fire even as her ears folded in embarrassment. She heard Ayaulym sigh, but there was nothing more the woman said and Xuan went to the tent flap. "[I won't be long,]" she assured them, and left.
> Mayor really didn't have much to say to the older nomad, so she focused her gaze on the child instead. Guuni was sleeping, quite comfortable in hooves instead of arms. Mayor leaned closer once more and touched the small cheek with her muzzle. It was nice and warm, but she believed Xuan that the fire needed more wood.
> By the time the child's face would be noticeably cold it would be too late. When she looked up she saw that Ayaulym was watching her closely. At least she wasn't tensed up to snatch the baby away at the first sign of trouble, but the woman still looked uneasy.
> Mayor decided to try and break the ice, at least a little bit.
"[She is beautiful. I think I see Xuan in her face.]"
> All that earned her was an affirmative-sounding grunt, but perhaps Ayaulym's glare softened a bit. Mayor plunged on.
"[You are proud of your daughter? She is a good mother.]"
> This time the old woman went as far as to nod.

> Mayor left her in silence for a while and went back to examining the tiny creature in her hooves. It was perhaps the closest she could come to being a mother herself. It brought back those bitter thoughts, full of regret and recrimination for not having done it while she'd had the chance, but at least this was something.
> After some time the older woman cleared her throat. "[You really are good with her. I think- maybe...]"
> She fell silent and Mayor looked up with an eyebrow raised inquisitively.
> "[Maybe you can help Xuan. This isn't easy for her and I can't be here all the time.]"
> It was encouraging and Mayor made sure to smile, even if she didn't quite feel like it yet.
"[Thank you. I am happy I help.]"
> That earned her another nod, and then they each went back into their own thoughts. Mayor was focusing on holding the child still and had to fight against drowsiness which was beginning to claim her. She did not want to fall asleep, especially not with the baby in her hooves and such a high likelihood that she would have those awful dreams.
> The mere thought of what she might do in her delirium brought her more fully awake than a cold shower. She also realized that the tent was getting quite chilly.
> Something was wrong!
> Xuan should have been back by now! The pile of wood the nomad youngsters had gathered during the afternoon was less than five minutes' walk away!
> Mayor straightened up and Ayaulym shot up at the same time. "[Where is Xuan?]" the woman demanded. "[I will go look. Something may have happened to her! I always told that idiot child she shouldn't strain herself so soon after birth!]"
> Mayor shook her head.
"[No. You take little Guuni. I go look. Here, make her warm.]"
> The old nomad studied her, but only for a second before she nodded and even flashed a tiny smile. "[Yes. Good. Go and look. Shout if there is trouble!]"
"[Yes. I will be back soon!]"
> She stood on slightly unsteady legs after being still for so long. Mayor had to stretch her limbs before she could trust them, then she pushed out of the tent. She would have a far better chance of finding Xuan in the dark anyway, thanks to her sense of smell. Maybe.
> Mayor lifted her muzzle and sniffed the chilly spring air. There was a light breeze, so Xuan scent hadn't lingered. Shame, Mayor thought to herself and headed over to the communal wood pile. It was near the edge of the camp because there simply wasn't enough room among the tents.
> With luck this would have an innocent explanation. Maybe Xuan had run into a friend and was simply chatting away.
> Something told Mayor that she was wrong though, and the fur on her withers tried to stand on end as she walked into the darkness.

> She soon found the pile of wood, but there was no sign of Xuan. Mayor walked closer, nostrils flaring as she sought for any clue the scent might bring her. Her hoof crunched on something she she automatically froze with a small whimper.
> Luckily it was just a dry branch. She lowered her head and saw that a whole bundle of sticks had been strewn haphazardly on the ground. Her gut wrenched, even though she couldn't quite imagine what had happened. It felt wrong.
> She could smell very faint traces of nomad on the wood and quickly identified the person.
> It felt as if her insides were turning to ice. Xuan had gathered an armful of firewood, then had thrown it down. Why? What had happened to her?
> Mayor's ears were as flat as they would go and she debated with herself whether to go and look for someone, or whether she should try searching around.
"[Xuan!]" she called, louder.
> There was a rustle behind her and a nomad seemed to rise up from the ground. She didn't see his face, but it was definitely a man. He had a spear in an upraised arm.
> "[It talks!?]" he gasped. His accent was strange, not one Mayor had heard in the camp and she took an involuntary step back.
> A second shadow appeared beside the first. "[Forget it! Get it before it brays and people hear!]"
> The two jumped forward and Mayor whinnied in sudden fear. These weren't men from the camp. They were outsiders! They wanted to kill her!
> She twirled and kicked off, her speed surprising both her and the pursuers. A spear thudded into the ground by her foreleg and slapped her side. A hoof-width over and it would have skewered her!
> Mayor dodged to one side and the other spear sliced against her hind leg. It was a searing line of pain and she screamed at the top of her voice.
> There were no words in it, but as she sped away she began to bellow.
> She thought she heard some answering shouts from nearby tents and the men running after her cursed. They slowed, but she kept on running to the bonfire. Most of the men would be there, she knew.
> Mayor had to save her breath for running, but she repeated her cry of alarm every few dozen steps. The camp was waking up around her and she heard a few fights break out. Spear clattered against spear. There were yells of pain and anger.
> She redoubled her effort and finally burst into the clearing, where the song had abruptly ended and the nomads were milling around in confusion.
> Mayor spotted Willow and ran over. This was not a time for hatred.
"[Come quick! Attackers! Strangers! They come from the south! Get the men and the bows! Hurry!]"

> She wanted to tell him that they'd probably gotten Xuan, but the hunter reacted quickly and sped away, already shouting for his men. They hurried off to fetch their weapons.
> Mayor spotted a more welcome face and ran over. She put herself in Buygra's path, panting.
"[You have to come!]" she gasped. "[They have Xuan! Xuan is gone! We have to go find her!]"
> This made the hunter hesitate. He looked after Willow and the others and jerked his body as if to follow them. Mayor butted his thigh with her head and he took a step back.
"[Come! Xuan! There is no time!]"
> She pranced in place until the man cursed and began to ran toward his tent. She breathed a sigh of relief and followed.
> It occurred to her that Buygra would be outnumbered, but he was a good shot with the bow and that would surely even the odds. Besides, her plan was to sneak around the groups of attacking men and try to follow Xuan. They would have taken her out of the camp as directly as possible, she guessed. Maybe they could head them off.
> She had to be in time! She simply had to! She wouldn't let Guuni lose her mother!
> It wasn't long after that she stood, trembling, by Buygra's side as he held his bow, drawn. Four men had tried to rush him and the first one fell with an arrow through his eye. It had been a lucky shot, but the others didn't know that.
> They'd stopped and were milling around in confusion. Mayor wondered whether they would charge again, when one of they, barely older than Salki she gauged, turned and ran.
> One of the others twisted to yell curses after his escaping comrade and Buygra released his arrow.
> It wasn't as accurate as the previous one, but it hit the man in the belly and he went down with a bloodcurdling scream. He kept yelling and thrashed around on the ground, but he wouldn't fight anymore, so Buygra aimed his next shot at the last man.
> His opponent, suddenly alone, dropped his spear and ran. The arrow missed him, but Mayor didn't think he would be back. The fear in his eyes had been all too real. She remembered that this was an entirely new, frighteningly effective weapon.
> Buygra went forward, giving a wide berth to the fallen warrior who was still screaming as he clutched the arrow protruding from his belly. Mayor tried not to look and pressed her ears as flat as she could to tune out the pained cries as she followed.
> More of the camp's nomads were now awake and fighting the intruders. Most of them had spears, since bows were quite rare and the skill to shoot them rarer still. There was shouting of several melees nearby and Mayor nudged Buygra's thigh with her muzzle to guide him away from the worst fighting.

> A few times they came across a scrap and the young hunter dropped arrows into the strangers. The men thus freed from fighting hurried off to find their friends and families, despite Mayor and Buygra's shouts for help.
> They were almost at the edge and Mayor couldn't wrap her mind around how many attackers had come. It felt as if the entire camp was involved in the little war. She couldn't see any direction that was safe.
> The only piece of luck was that most of the women and children had been at the bonfire, well away from the outskirts. Otherwise the slaughter would have been much worse.
> Oh, and Guuni and Ayaulym were fine. The fighting hadn't spread that far by the time she and Buygra had made it to their tent, and the young man told his mother in law in no uncertain terms that she was to take the child directly to the bonfire.
> Mayor had acquired a torch and lit the scene she'd found earlier. The spear which had missed her was gone, as was the one which had scraped her flank, but the sticks were still where she'd found them.
> "[Here! Bring the light here!]" Buygra said, studying the ground intently. Mayor obliged with the torch and the young hunter furrowed his brow.
> She tried to see what he was seeing, but the ground didn't look any different to her. Same well-trodden mud as everywhere in the camp.
> Eventually Buygra pointed. "[Here, I think. There was a struggle. They must have grabbed her and dragged her away. See the furrows where she kicked and dragged?]"
> Mayor tried again to see, but she might as well been trying to read tracks in water for all that she could identify.
"[No. Sorry.]"
> She tried to bend down and sniff the ground, careful not to smother the torch in her mouth, and thought she caught a faint whiff of Xuan. Unfortunately it was hard to be sure whether it was real or just wistful thinking.
"[Sorry,]" she said again.
> Buygra crept closer, still intently watching the ground and she followed close after him. They were both so engrossed in the trail that neither of them noticed the stranger.
> Mayor heard him first as the warrior ran for them, his spear arm already pulling back to strike.
> All she had time for was yelp, which caused her to drop the torch. Buygra began to turn and fumbled for his bow, but it would be too late.
> The warrior glanced at her and their eyes met. He dismissed her and turned his attention fully to Buygra.
> That gave Mayor a chance. She didn't think and, fueled by fear and adrenaline, twisted her body around. She dug her forehooves into the soft mud and lashed out blindly with her hind hooves.
> Their attacker hadn't been expecting that and couldn't change his direction in time. Her hooves connected and there was a sickening crunch.

> The spear clattered harmlessly against Buygra's half-raised bow and the stranger went flying back.
> Mayor was an earth pony and she hadn't held back. Her muscles had been toned with months and months of gruelling physical labor. Even as he fell, the man sprayed blood from his mouth and nose.
> When he landed with a dull thud he didn't move again.
> Mayor stared with wide eyes and panted. Then she began to shake. She saw a bubble of red blood grow from the fallen man's nose, then pop. All was still. His chest didn't move.
> He was dead.
> She'd killed him.
> "[Fuck, well done,]" Buygra said with a noticeable tone of admiration in his voice. His hand gave Mayor a quick pat on her head, but she didn't move. She was staring at the trail of red blood down the fallen man's face.
> She'd killed him with her own hooves.
> Her life had been in danger! Hers and Buygra's! The man had attacked them. He was coming at them with a spear.
> She'd killed him and now he was no longer a threat.
> Was she really any different from the nomads? Maybe it had only taken a bit of time for her essential barbaric nature to shine through. Maybe she'd always been a monster - a murderer - and it had simply been buried under all that paperwork and bureaucracy?
> Some ponies were born evil. Sombra had proven that.
> Was she one of them and simply hadn't known?
> A tug on her ear brought her back to the present and she turned to Buygra, who had picked up the torch. "[Here! Take this, I need both hands for the bow. Come on, we have to go!]"
> She followed in a kind of trance, the moment replaying in her mind. Her hooves connecting. A split second of firm flesh under her frogs, then the crunch as the man's chest caved in.
> The spray of blood.
> That last bubble of air escaping his ruined lungs.
> She felt nauseated and bile rose up, but Mayor fought it down. She concentrated on the feel of the wood between her teeth and hurried her steps to keep up with her friend.
> He suddenly stopped and she nearly ran into him. Only when she looked past his legs did she see why.
> Xuan was there, lying on the ground with blood on her head. A stranger was lying partly on top of her, a flint knife sticking from the back of his neck.
> This time she couldn't stop it and Mayor dropped the torch again as she vomited onto the mud. She was dimly aware that Buygra had pulled the attacker off his wife and was bent down to listen to her chest.
> Mayor was already weeping, even as she dry-heaved.
> "[She's alive! Help me! We have to get her to the shaman!]"
> The words instantly snapped Mayor from her wallowing misery. Her friends needed her. The conflict and the disgust and the shock had to wait.
> She could follow orders.

> Once again she picked up the torch, which luckily hadn't gone out. The wooden stick tasted of her foul vomit, but she ignored it. Instead, Mayor went to stand beside the fallen woman and waited as Buygra lifted her onto her back.
> He slapped her flank and exclaimed in surprise when he felt sticky, drying blood. "[You're hurt!]"
"[I'm fine,]" she reassured him, her voice utterly emotionless.
> To prove it, she began to walk back into the camp, while Buygra took up his bow again.
> Xuan was alive. That was all that mattered. She had to take her to get help and make sure she stayed that way.
> Guuni needed a mother.

Oof. Yikes. Poor mare doesn't get a break, does she? Someone needs to go and give this pony a hug or something.
Paste: https://ponepaste.org/7856
Meyrmer's suffering will continue until morale improves
>She'd killed him and now he was no longer a threat.
>Was she really any different from the nomads?

Ah, come on. Even the most passive grass-eater wouldn't think twice about defending itself. Even back in her world ponies defended themselves. There were guards with spears and fights against monsters. This doesn't feel like something she'd think about in the heat of the moment.
Hopefully this whole bit isn't just for a cliched
"See? You and I are not so different after all."

Idk. Maybe I'm just down on it, because I really wanted to see Major stand up for her own interests and now the story seems to go in the "You have proven yourself, welcome to our tribe" direction.
It's well written as always, although the battle scene are a bit weak.

> It wasn't long after that she stood, trembling, by Buygra's side as he held his bow, drawn. Four men had tried to rush him and [..]
Immediate res into an on going battle scene? Idk, that just feels rushed and hurts the tension.

Almost forgot:
This is just for my own curiosity, but is there a reason why you split up your posts around 500 below character limit? Is that a stylistic choice as a replacement for paragraphs? This is not a complaint or anything. I don't care how you post, as long as you post at all.

> Stand up for herself.
That is on the menu soon, but I wanted to have a bit more focus on the stark difference between this world and the comfy, happy place she is used to. *Might* still have pushed it a little, thanks for noting!

Battle scenes weak, gotcha. No real surprise, it's my first time trying to write one and I guess it'll take more practice.

>500 below
I dunno where I heard it, but I was under the impression that character limit is 3000, so I set my splitting script up to do 2800 (leaving me a bit of reserve in case I do any last minute edits). Is the character limit 3500 or 4000 or something and I didn't know? It's like a 2-second edit in some Python to update it.
>stark difference between this world and the comfy, happy place she is used to
Eh. Doesn't really work for me at least. I already live in the world of the nomads. Contrasting my own experiences against those of the ponies living in Equestria works, because I'm very familiar about how the real world works. But in the opposite way it's not as easy. I've never lived amongst the ponies. For me, hunting and killing for food is normal.
Might be worth considering flashbacks to real her life in Equestria to really *feel* the difference in a "show don't tell" kinda way. Or not. Might be to awkward to start that now.

>first time trying to write one and I guess it'll take more practice.
Coincidentally, I was listening to a Caiphas Cain novel (set in 40k, witty humor + violence) prior to reading your update. That might have colored my perception. In general, to better write something, you have to also read that same thing. Do you read stuff with combat in it?
But combat isn't the focus of this green anyway, so it doesn't really detract much from the overall picture. The immediate res stuff was just very strange. It happened all very fast.

>500 below
Okay, 500 was a bit exaggerated. Cool that you use a script for that! Are you a coder? I personally use VSCode to copy snippets of as close to 3000 as possible.

Thanks, Anon. Some good meta-horse-words there!
I'll bump the script up to 2950, should still be pretty good and save the odd post here and there.

Also, yes, while I'm not strictly a developer, I am an SRE which is kinda sorta similar. I use nvim with a bunch of plugins right now, but I've also used vscode aplenty, and a bunch of other tools tool.
Ah, interesting. I'm just a normal developer. Doing games, web, apps, anything really.

Thanks for writing your green though! I gotta say at the beginning when I read the first snippet a few updates back, I was not very convinced. It had weird names, a weird setting, stared a mare I didn't care for, had weird [typography] and coincidentally not much of interest happened in that first update.
But I kept reading, because I wanted to see what other writers were doing in this thread.
Now I'm glad I kept reading and read the updates pretty much the day they come out.
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scrub the poner
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Snugglepone is very good at her job
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So what do ponies do on Thanksgiving anyway? They don't exactly have a whole lot to be thankful for, after all - being enslaved, possibly on a foreign planet. At best they were probably kept plenty busy arranging a good party for Master and Mistress last night. Now, today...? Just out stuck doing black friday shopping for their people?
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Lithia - #cookie

Now with image!

After Lithia had been held down and given burns by her Slave-Master to teach her a lesson about obedience, she was told to stay outside for the rest of the day. Traumatized and alone, she spent a cold night sleeping in the garden shed and now awaits whatever the next day will bring.

>The next day starts off very much like the previous day, with Grey coming outside, demanding you join him and Xena for breakfast.
>This time, however, he does so without a cup of hot tea, which you thought to have been an unusually nice but much appreciated gesture yesterday.
>You'd been almost willing to turn over a new leaf, until the horrific events that followed changed everything for the worse.
>Today, all niceties are gone, and the way he speaks with you clearly demands nothing short of immediate compliance, which, still feeling the bruises and burns on your body, you are only too happy to provide.
>You lost the mental strength to resist, at the same time as the bird on your cutie mark had been irrevocably disfigured, replacing in your mind the scorn of days prior with simple numbness.
>After a short breakfast, having been given a much smaller portion than Xena once again, Master reminds you of what he already told you yesterday.
>You are going to spend this day outside in the creaky shed again.
>Instead of feeling anger or resentment for being treated like a garden tool denied even the simple warmth of the house, you rotate the last remaining nourishment cube in your hoof, inspecting it from all sides, completely carefree, as if Master had just talked about a different mare.
>This is a rather accurate description of how you actually feel inside after yesterday's punishment—like a different mare.
>He hands you some rations—a plastic bag of cubes and a bottle of water—and sends you outside, but not before giving you a backhanded compliment about how you have seemingly turned into a much friendlier pony over night, going as far as stuffing a cookie between your lips as reward for it.
>You carry your supplies and the cookie over the lawn, which is still damp with morning dew, almost eager to get back into the familiar embrace of the darkness in the shed, which now feels like a welcoming respite from the cruel outside world.
>A peaceful place to lick your wounds while letting your mind go blank entirely undisturbed.
>Even the bone-chilling cold that your blanket has trouble protecting you from, does not detract from that.
>On the contrary, it numbs the nerves on your skin, easing the pain of the many bruises and burns more effectively than the cream you have been given ever could.
>Having reached the shed now, you stand as if rooted, your mind seemingly unwilling to open the door and get inside.
>The chocolaty goodness of the cookie still between your lips makes your mouth water as you try to collect yourself enough to go inside, not exactly knowing why you haven't done so already.
>For a long while you stand there, doing nothing but breathing in and out, releasing little clouds of breath from your nostrils into the cold autumn morning.
>Then, so suddenly that it even surprises yourself, you spit out the cookie into the grass and head inside without further hesitation.
>This... this certainly wasn't a rational decision, your stomach already yearning for the lost snack, which your tongue is still able to taste chocolate residue of.
>But... but it felt right!
>Inside the shed, the familiar odor of rubber and rust surrounds you as you lie down and pull your cold and slightly damp blanket over yourself.
>It takes some time for your body heat to warm everything up, but it eventually succeeds in creating a cozy island of warmth in the cold darkness.
>A new feeling of dread overcomes you, so suddenly in your heart that it almost drives you to the verge of tears.
>Why didn't you eat the damn cookie? You did everything correctly, being as polite and obedient to your Master as you could, earning his favor and a reward.
>Yet you rejected it, taking another unrequited step down the path that had led you to being horrifically mutilated just yesterday.
>Why can't you get this through your head? Why can't you change?!
>Are you stupid or something? Having trouble learning even the most basic lesson that countless other mares have learned before you?
>Maybe your thick skull needs a reminder!
>You put a hoof on your flank-burns and press down hard.
>Pain cuts through your entire body like a knife through butter, as the thin layer of protective material rips and droplets of fresh blood quill to the surface, staining your frog.
>Almost failing to suppress a scream, the pain succeeds in driving tears to your eyes, but self-hatred keeps you going.
"Give up. Give up! GIVE UP!"
>But you remain immobile, paralyzed by fear and anger and pain, while hot tears run down your exposed cheeks, dropping to the floor or getting caught up in the fur beneath your huge eyes.
>The realization that you haven't actually changed and that what had happened is sure to happen again is too much to bear.
>With trembling hoofs, you reach out into the darkness, grabbing the smooth pebble you picked up yesterday as a replacement for the stolen barret and place it under your tongue, where the familiar feeling provides comfort in this loneliest moment of your life.
>You can't tell exactly how long you remained like this, as time is a meaningless concept in the dark void surrounding you, but eventually you do calm down.
>Your tongue glides over the pebble, dispelling any illusion you might have had that it was more than just a piece of rock.
>You are truly alone... sucking on a pacifier like a little filly.
>A display of weakness that serves to amuse a part of you still filled with lingering self-hatred.
>The salvia-covered pebble vanishes into the darkness of the shed as you spit it out in disgust.
>Moments of motionless, thoughtless existence go by while you stare into the darkness above you as if your companion could emerge from it at any moment to pull your ailing body into his warm embrace.
>You weren't aware that your small mare-heart was capable of missing someone so much.
>He was more than just a companion, giving you head pats and whispering nice words of freedom and happiness into your fluffy ears.
>It wasn't a lie when you told Grey that your mom gifted you that barret, which you later discovered to be so much more than what it looked like.
>Mom... it stings to think of her.
>Her name still carries a lot of regret.
>As an adult, you understand now what she must have been through trying to raise you and your siblings in such a hostile world.
>She had always tried her best, but you couldn't understand that back then, being a dumb, self-absorbed filly.
>As a puny slave, you own almost nothing, but you'd still give it all just to see her one more time.
>All you have left of her are slowly fading memories that your soggy brain desperately tries to cling to, but fails each day a little more.
>Closing your eyes, you try to picture all of them together, your younger sisters, your older sisters and Mom with her wings spread far, as if preparing to hug everyone in that little room that used to be your home.

I guess we are back to Friday's now, so much for trying to spread it out. Pretty proud of the image I drew. First time attempting that pose and I even like how to coloring turned out, despite only having my mouse to do it.
Also trying out a new writing style that uses longer sentences with more subclauses. Do you think it works better this way?
Oh fuck, I forgot the collar. Tfw I can't even keep track of how she is supposed to look like.
Catchin' up!
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No milk?
I read this like the "no bitches?" meme
Snoozy pony would probably spill it.
She can have a juice box though
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pon gonna pounce
it is time for snuggles and shes gonna get them
>choice was to become a nomad
I don't get it why is she trying to fit in. Just keep "inventing" stuff. Win-win. She gets to keep her values, while the nomads also benefit from it and starts supporting her. Like with the bread.
>others with a semblance of concern
See? The nomads started to care about her.
>it was something Mayor could do without feeling dirty
For some reason I imagined Mayor nursing newborn nomads.
>Xuan invited
I find it strange that Xuan did not interrupt earlier, not like the tent has rooms or significant volume for someone inside to miss speech on the other side.
>Don't be silly, I sent him away.
She quickly picked up on what Mayor was thinking about.
Xuan knows well what's wrong.
>but a hand pushed her croup down
I was expecting her to let Mayor handle it.
>can't leave your child with this animal
Someone feels jealous. Or she just realized that her daughter put "the animal" in front of her.
>It was perhaps the closest she could come to being a mother herself.
Time to try one of those donkeys!
>They were outsiders!
>A hoof-width over and it would have skewered her!
Time to get those bows and arrows!
>reacted quickly and sped away, already shouting for his men
Now he trusts her...
>but he was a good shot with the bow
But they can't see shit. They are blinded by the bonfire, it takes like 20 minutes for the eyes to adapt to properly see in the dark.
>first one fell with an arrow through his eye
>but the others didn't know that
And they don't know how fast can the bow and arrow shoot. Time to retreat!
>She couldn't see any direction that was safe.
Even on a good day she can't see shit!
>Mayor obliged with the torch
Someone should draw Mayor wile carrying a torch in her mouth.
>neither of them noticed the stranger
Not covering their back was a huge mistake.
>She didn't think and, fueled by fear and adrenaline
If killing animals made her sad, killing a nomad will make her even more miserable.
>but she didn't move
Hopefully she will snap out of it soon due to the amount of adrenaline in her.
>She'd killed him with her own hooves.
She could have aimed lower.
>for her essential barbaric nature
Ponies don't have one!
>flint knife sticking from the back of his neck
Someone knows how to defend themselves.
>she vomited onto the mud
Top tip to how to loose weight quick as a pony: kill people and/or observe how its done closely.
>bent down to listen to her chest
So who killed the attacker?
>lifted her onto her back
Soon Mayor Mare's name will be Mayor Mule.
>I'm fine
Heard that before.

Thanks for the update!
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Mare is for organizing
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I fucking love this story! very captivating and well written! Thanks for not giving up on this wonderful green!
sounds about right
I love this so much. Damn you horse for making fun of me in such a cute way.
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Pony fulfills the memes or pony does extra chores
She will work on the content farm or she'll work on an actual farm
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don't do that
bumpone was sleeping on the job
very unprofessional
time to go bump in the night
>hire writerpone to produce green during the day
>hire bat to keep slow threads alive at night
>Not hiring a bat to write at night too
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>bfw you tell her that she can try writing something
>yfw bat gets so caught up in writing her new story that she forgets to bump the thread and it dies overnight
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>mfw forgot the face
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batwrite bump
>bap writes endless smut featuring totally not her and her master under a pseudonym
>it subliminally affects master
>master cuddles bap more
>bapper nightdaydreams about all the lovins she's gonna get
>too shy to actually post it
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Thank you bandwidth kirin.
Will need to postpone today's update to tomorrow on account of work-organized dinner. (At least it's free food)
Nothing beats free. Have fun!
A cute!
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Don't wanna bother, I'd really like to know if this writing style works or if I should go back to how it was prior. Also if something doesn't work, I always like criticism more than anything else, cause it helps me improve.

Won't be updating tomorrow, cause no time. Learning to draw is pretty time intensive and there has been a deadline at the job this week as well.
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pat the horse
Up to the top we go!

> They got the unconscious Xuan to the shaman's tent, but Mayor couldn't get inside. A woman whose name she didn't know came out to help Buygra move his wife and the mare was told to wait.
> She pushed her way forward despite that, but they simply shoved her back by her muzzle. When she tried again, Mayor got a glimpse of the controlled chaos inside. Several of the camp's women and both of the shaman's apprentices were busy with the injured. Mayor saw at least four people lying on the floor and a further two sitting upright by the central fire.
> Everyone was talking loudly and one of the injured was keening in pain.
> "[Get the fucking pony out of here, there's no room!]" someone complained and Mayor didn't see who it was.
> She cringed back as Buygra herded her away. He crouched, put both hands on her face, and stroked her fur with his thumbs. "[Please, Meyermer, wait here. There's no room in there. They're even giving me the stink eye!]"
"[B-But- Xuan?]"
> The grip around her muzzle tightened momentarily, then Buygra stood up. "[I'll ask and come right back to tell you, okay?]"
> His tone and the expression in his face brokered no argument and Mayor simply nodded in silent obedience. Buygra gave her one last pat and hurried back into the tent.
> She listened to the moans, and cries and the arguments inside. It felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes before the hunter came back. Mayor thought he looked relieved and she relaxed a little.
> "[She's fine,]" Buygra told her, "[they just hit her on the head. No other wounds. She's sleeping now and the shaman says she's breathing normally. She'll wake up and she'll be fine.]"
> It wasn't the absolute best news in Mayor's opinion. Blows to the head could be more dangerous, or have longer lasting effects, but there wasn't much she could do. Even if they let her inside the tent to examine Xuan herself, she wasn't a doctor and Xuan wasn't even a pony.
> There was absolutely nothing she could do for the woman and Mayor would simply have to trust the nomads' own medicine, as primitive as it was. She simply had to believe.
> Buygra watched her for a moment longer, then went back in the tent. He paused with the tent flap in his hand. "[I will send someone to find you when she wakes up, okay? The shaman says I will be able to take her home in a while.]"
"[Should I- do you need me to wait?]"
> The young man shook his head. "[Someone will help me. Go and get some rest, you look like you need it.]"
> Mayor wanted to argue, but his words reminded her just how exhausted she was. She hadn't slept the previous night and it was probably past midnight. With the lack of sleep and the sheer physical exertion during the hunt, and during the attack, she suddenly felt ready to simply fall over.

> Maybe, as tired as she was, she would sleep and not dream. Mayor gave a slow nod and turned to go back to Salki and Darga's tent. Even the chieftain and her jabs and insults wouldn't bother her tonight.
> She saw a familiar, lone figure standing right in front of her and Mayor froze in place. She must have walked right past Saule on their way in. The girl was so still that she hadn't noticed her until now.
> Saule was pale, and she stared at the shaman's tent with wide, fearful eyes. Her face was dirty with grime, except where tears had scoured two pink trails down her cheeks. Her expression told Mayor that something terrible has happened.
"[W-What's wro- wrong?]"
> Even as she asked, Mayor Mare's heart sank and her hind legs buckled under her. She had to grit her teeth to prevent herself from screaming in frustration. Just when she thought the worst might be over, just when Buygra had come out of the shaman's tent and told her that Xuan would be alright...
> This nomad world kept kicking her, again and again.
> Saule didn't answer. Mayor wasn't even sure the girl had seen her, so she forced her tired limbs to work and stood up on unsteady legs. She walked over and brushed her muzzle against Saule's clenched fist.
> Her hand relaxed and Mayor nuzzled the fingers apart in a silent show of comfort, or at least in an attempt to get some kind of a reaction.
> Saule looked down. Her unseeing, haunted expression shrivelled Mayor's insides some more. The girl kept jerking her head from side to side, as if trying to deny whatever she was thinking.
> Her palm slipped away, but came back to close around Mayor's ear. The grip was tight, almost painful, but Mayor didn't try to pull free of push the hand away. She let Saule take what comfort she could.
> Instead Mayor leaned in and closed her eyes. For a while she could focus on being nothing more than Saule's friend. It was as if her own troubles paled in comparison to whatever was wrong with the girl.
> Mayor opened her mouth to ask again, but Saule released her ear and sat down on the muddy ground. She put her arms around her knees and hid her face.
> It looked really bad. Was she hurt? Mayor moved aside to let some torchlight shine on Saule. Her forearms were covered in blood.
"[Are you hurt? We need to get you some help!]"
> Mayor pried Saule's arms apart so she could check her for injuries. Her face and head were fine, and despite all the blood there didn't seem to be any wounds on her arms.
"[Where does it hurt? Where did they hit you?]"
> Saule shook her head and pushed the inquisitive mare away. She came right back, trying to undo her tunic to make sure she wasn't bleeding from her chest or belly, but Saule shoved at her muzzle again. "[I'm not hurt!]" she yelled.
"[Then what? You are covered in blood!]"
> There was no reply and Saule buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she began to sob.

> Mayor Mare tried to make her voice as gentle as she could.
"[Why are you walking around alone? It's not safe! Where is your mother? Where is Bakar?]"
> That last question got a reaction and Saule began to weep in earnest. It began as a soft, almost melodious wail, and quickly turned into loud, hiccuping sobs.
> Mayor's belly went cold and she realized that the blood on Saule's arms was sticky, almost dry. It wasn't her blood.
"[Saule? Where is Bakar?]"
> All the girl could do was shake her head and she began to cry louder.
> It could only mean...
"[Is he hurt? D-Dead?]"
> All Mayor could think to do was sit beside the nomad girl and press her side against hers. At least it would tell her that she wasn't alone.
> Saule suddenly unwrapped and threw both arms around the surprised mare. She buried her face in her mane and wept.
> "[Bakar-]" the girl sobbed, but couldn't say anything more.
> She didn't have to. Mayor's felt her own tears well up in her eyes. Almost without conscious thought she wrapped her forelegs around Saule. At that moment she couldn't tell which of them was clinging to whom, not that it mattered.
"[Is he d-dead?]" she asked again, quietly.
> The answer came in the form of a nod against her neck, followed by a fresh wail. Mayor closed her eyes and tried very hard not to begin sobbing herself. If she started, it would all come out.
> There would be time for that later, once she'd seen to Saule and made sure the girl was okay. She had to find Mitra, Saule's mother, but even that could wait for a bit. The first thing she could do for her friend was simply be there.
"[I'm sorry. I'm-]" she tried, but didn't know nearly enough words.
"Oh, sweet Celestia..."
> The foreign words didn't seem to register with Saule, or at least she didn't comment on them.
"[He- he was my friend. It's not fair! I'm sorry...]"
> Another nod and a fresh bout of tears. Once again Mayor had to concentrate on her breathing lest she begin weeping too. She held her breath for a moment and then let it out. A shudder passed through her, but she thought she could keep it under control, at least for a while longer.
"[Come on. Come, we need to find someone. Your mother? Where your mother?]"
> Saule gave a slight shrug. When Mayor tried to pull away to look around for help, the girl squeezed her as if she never intended to let go. The message was clear: it was not yet time.
> Mayor settled back and did her best to pat Saule's back with a hoof.
"[It's okay, it's okay. I'm not going. I will stay with you, okay?]"
> There was another nod and the death grip relaxed a little. Mayor looked around to see if any of the nomads could help, but she couldn't see anyone. Buygra had gone back into the shaman's tent, and Mayor still heard multiple voices arguing in there. Even if Buygra came out, he would have his hands full with his wife.

> The shaman was the closest the nomads had to medicine, so it would why Saule was there. Maybe, Mayor thought and her ears folded down at the horrible idea, maybe Bakar had been alive only a little while ago. Maybe Saule had helped him get to the shaman's tent.
> Mayor Mare bit her tongue and silently called herself a foal. It wasn't doing her any good to speculate! She would get the whole story eventually, for now she had to focus on the girl, rather than work herself up into uncontrollable weeping.
> Maybe that helped her put her own trouble aside, or maybe what Mayor had gone through simply paled in comparison. After all, neither Buygra nor Xuan were dead.
> Salki!
> Mayor tensed up for a moment when she remembered that all the hunters had gone with Willow to drive the intruders away. She'd heard someone say that they were giving chase.
> Salki could get hurt!
> She realized she was gripping Saule too tightly and forced her legs to unclench a little. The girl didn't remark on it, but the last thing Mayor wanted was to inadvertently hurt her.
> Her jaw set and Mayor forced those thoughts away, too. They were just speculation and fear, and she really didn't need them while she was trying to help Saule.
> She pulled back a little so she could inspect the young nomad's face. It was a little cleaner, where she'd rubbed the dirt off into Mayor's mane, but it still glistened with tears.
"[It's going to be okay,]" she said.
> For a moment it looked as if Saule was angry at the lie, but then she let her breath out and looked down.
"[Come on, we have to get you someplace warm. Come on.]"
> It took some prodding to get Saule to stand up. Even when she finally looked around, the mere sight of the shaman's tent made her tense up again. Mayor put herself in the way and gave Saule a stronger push to turn her around. Only then did she take the girl's side.
> Her hand landed gently on Mayor's withers.
"[Here, hold on to my mane, okay? I'm not going anywhere without you. Come on, let's go home.]"
> Saule obediently gathered a fistful of Mayor's pink mane. That made it a lot easier to lead her, even if the grip meant the occasional sharp tug. Mayor ignored the discomfort and simply made sure she walked at Saule's side.
> The night wasn't as chilly as some, but it still wasn't pleasant and there was a distinct cold patch where Saule's tears had made Mayor's fur wet.
> A few nomads passed them, but they hurried on their own errands and didn't stop. Mayor called to the first few she could recognize, hoping for a helping hand with Saule, but they just excused themselves and ran off.
> The attack had left the camp in a disarray and women were looking for their husbands and sons. The hunters weren't back yet, it seemed.
> Luckily it wasn't far and the pair soon came to Bakar's-
> Mayor shook her head sadly. It wasn't his tent anymore. She guessed it would go to Mitra, or maybe even to Saule.

> She saw a flat stone and a flint knife beside the firepit. She saw wood chippings and stripped bark and a few straight sticks which Bakar had been making into arrows. A few were in the firepit, burned through.
> They had caught them all by surprise, it seemed. An attack in the night.
> Saule was looking at the scene again, and she was making a strange sound in her throat, as if she wanted to both growl and sob at the same time. Mayor remembered herself and pushed her side against the girl's thigh.
"[Come on. Your mother's tent, let's go inside.]"
> It was right beside Bakar's and Mayor thought she heard the crackle of fire inside. If so it meant there were people and they could help.
> She took a step and pulled. Saule was still gripping her mane in a fist. It resulted in a painful tug, but it was enough to get the girl moving again. In a few more steps they were at the entrance and Mayor simply pushed the flap aside.
> Nomads didn't knock.
> The interior of the tent was warm and lit by a bright, orange fire in the middle. Several dark shapes were sitting around and conversation stopped when Mayor stepped inside.
> "[Saule!]" Mitra gasped in relief when she saw the girl. She jumped forward and physically yanked her daughter inside, and wrapped her in an embrace. "[We were so worried! Where were you?! We thought- the attack...]"
> Saule didn't say anything and Mitra went on: "[Tashi was taken! We thought you-]"
> She didn't finish the sentence.
> They didn't know yet, Mayor realized. Saule had taken Bakar to get help and he had died. None of the others knew. Saule would have to tell them this painful bit of news.
> Mayor didn't think she could watch. The kind thing to do would be to tell them herself, since Saule was in no shape to talk, but Mayor simply couldn't bring herself to do it, not after everything that had happened.
> She backed away and slipped out of the tent while no one was looking. Her conscience twinged and she paused for a moment, utterly undecided. She should go back and tell them. Maybe she could bring Saule some comfort. It would be the pony thing to do.
> Mayor folded her ears down and let her head lower in shame as she began to walk away from the tent. All she could hear was her own heart, hammering in her chest as she made her escape.
> She couldn't watch another little tragedy, not this night. She couldn't cause Mitra and her family this pain.
> A hand on her back stopped her and she nearly jumped in fright. She twirled around, her mind already painting a last, lone, desperate attacker out to get revenge for his friend she'd killed.
> It was only Zaur. He'd seen her leave and followed.
> "[Thank you for bringing my sister back,]" he said. "[You should come back so Mother can thank you.]"
> Mayor mutely shook her head. Unfortunately Zaur saw her expression and his smile faded.

> "[Something's wrong. What happened? Did they- did-]" he began, but had to swallow before he could continue: "[did they *hurt* Saule?]"
> The thought was absolutely horrible and Mayor hissed in unpleasant surprise. She shook her head, as much to dislodge the sudden mental image as to say no.
"[No! No! Nothing like that...]"
> "[Then what?]"
> She let her breath out and lowered her gaze to the ground.
"[Bakar is dead. Killed, I think. Saule took him to the shaman, but he died.]"
> There was a few seconds of silence, then Zaur gave a grunt. "[Fuck!]" he swore quietly. "[Fuck those Ruslan bastards! Sons of whores!]"
> He stood up and it looked like he would simply run after the attackers to try and make them pay. Mayor could see how tightly he'd bunched his fists and his the veins on his neck stood out.
> She placed a hoof on his leg and he looked down in surprise.
"[No. No, go back. Saule- your sister. Your mother. They need you. Go back.]"
> It was a struggle, but in the end rationality won through. Mayor Mare was right and the young nomad knew it. He slowly let his breath go and his shoulders slumped.
> "[Fuck!]" he swore again. Then, without another word, he turned and went back to the tent.
> Mayor was grateful he hadn't insisted she join them. She'd done her duty. She'd brought Saule home, safe with her family, and now she could go somewhere and...
> What?
> Have a good, solitary cry?
> Stomp about in impotent rage?
> She wanted to do both, but she was also worried for Salki.
> Should she try and follow the hunters? They could be hurt, maybe they needed her. She could help carry back the wounded.
> Which direction had they gone? She would never find them in he dark, out in the wild, even with her sense of smell.
> She wanted to be alone for a while.
> She wanted a drink. At least it would take the edge off for a little bit, and she could deal with the mess of emotion and fear and anger in the morning.
> Maybe they had beer at the celebration. Maybe they dropped it when the panic started.
> She headed to the bonfire.

Well, nothing much to add here. It just isn't going her way, is it? Well, at least it probably can't get any worse than this, right?

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pony got it warm for you
let the snuggles begin

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