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Previous thread: >>40259256
Archive Link:
- https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/40259256/

>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
Popular Stories: https://ponepaste.org/1579
All Stories [209]: https://ponepaste.org/1590
One-Shot Stories [47]: https://ponepaste.org/1584
Thread Archive: https://ponepaste.org/1642
Image Archive: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AiFkdye7rtydbfk0wBnid5vnFUg (outdated)
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Bedfillies are better than the bedmares
https://derpibooru.org/images/3225399 well trained maid Dash
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Pony follows the bedtime
Damn right they are.
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It's that time of the year again
Stuck at work, third time this week. Didn't have the wherewithal to write this week, sorry everyone.
no worries mang
focus on you first
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Twins, but also maid
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What's even the duty of a bedfilly?
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Fall in love of her master after multiple sessions of cuddles.
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I fucking love you AW, Marry me you glorious bastard!
But all ponies do that
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Reminder to carry your pony around.
It's good for you or something.
Starting some christmas story:

>be anon
>you have been going over the same boards an same pages over and over
>you are sitting with your face in your palm and your mouth hanging open clicking the same fucking buttons over and over
>still nothing fresh
>done that, seen that, old news
>it really is strange though how people only now discover this shit, it has been ages
>just wait till they find about...
>you lean back against the chair and take a look outside
>7pm and already dark as night
>you skip a track, and then the next one and the next and..
>there is silence
>a distant guitar echoes some riffs
>then a beat and a new guitar hits the scene
>you know this one
>speed and volume increase
>finally the voice kicks in
>you rip the headsets off your head
>you launch yourself up from your chair and head to the door still cursing
"The *one* time I find myself *SOMETHING* worth enjoying and you FUCKS ARE-"
>You jerk open the door
>"Hello sir, kindly sign here, sir."
>A fucking delivery?
>You didn't order anything
>Or did you?
>You got wasted yesterday
>It was friday after all
>And amazon is fast.
>You stare at the guy
>Then down at the package
>Really big parcel on a dolly
>you look back at the dude
>indian or something you dont care but he holds out a pen and a clipboard with some paper on it
>you sign the paper and the guy gets lost
>and you are standing at your front door with a giant package sitting right in front of you
>2ft by 4ft by 3ft
>you get on your knees and try grab it
>you pull slightly and it doesn't move
>you pull harder and nothing happens
>lets do this
>you give it a strong tuck and the package mov-
>you let go and fall on your ass
"By the nine rings off hell..."
>You stare at the box for a moment trying to make heads or tails out of it
>No more sound
>you get up on your legs and head straight for the kitchen and take a knife out and head back to the parcel
>with slow steps and barely touching the object you cut the tape
>nothing happens
>with the tip of the knife you carefully jolt the pieces of the packaging away
>you lean over and look down inside
>pretty much all darkness
>there is some reflection
>you kick the box and the reflection moves
>"Fuck this!"
>you slam the door shut and head back inside
>left, right, right, door
>you grab the flashlight and head back
>you open the door and light inside the box
"What the..."
Do you really need to ask?

But what could be inside the mysterious package? It’s the right size for a pony but way too heavy unless it’s in a giant steel cage or something. Live animals aren’t shipped like that anyway. Maybe a robo-pone? Maybe a portable hole to Equestria?! Can’t wait to find out.
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This time she's gonna get that freakin dot
That's the opposite of what ponies are for.
This pic reminds me of the the western AJ + Anon green and that its dead.
This is how Twi should offer herself to her master.
Without wings.
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If this thread dies, a pony gets whipped. Save a pony, bump the thread!
Drink 6: A Day in the Life of Fluttershy, Part 2, And Honestly My Least Favorite Chapter Despite Working On It For Holy Shit Over Two Years Wow Fuck I Need To Write More Pinkie Because Pinkie Is Literally The Best and Super Fun to Write But Anyway This Chapter Only Goes To Prove How Boring Fluttershy Is And Why No One Will Ever Love Her or Her Weird Weeb Ass

>You don’t know what Anon was so worried about.
>This isn’t so hard.
>Just running from one work center to another and doing things you’ve never done before and aren’t trained or qualified to do.
>But if you aren’t trained then you can’t be yelled at if you don’t do it right so you don’t even need to try so it’s not really that hard and anyway except sometimes customers are angry and mean AND THAT’S BAD.
>It means they aren’t happy.
>The customer should always be happy.
>Anon told you how to make the customers happy but management said you aren’t allowed to do that.
>Probably because you aren’t blowjob certified.
>You should find the training video for that and get certified.
>Happy customers are good.
>But until you can do that, at least you know how to do this!
>Putting go-backs - or wait, are they called abandons now? Or returns? Or is the new term re-shops…? - back on the shelf where they go is easy! You just have to put things where they go, back on the shelf!
>It’s like stocking, but easier, because you don’t have to open boxes or handle razor blades.
>You nudge your cart down the next aisle and reach around inside it for the -
>"Um, excuse me, do you work here? "
>You stop thinking.
>To yourself.
>Your internal monologue.
>That’s probably a good thing.
>Anon thinks too much and you think that’s probably why he’s such a –
>"Excuse me but -"
>Oh no! You were still thinking!
"I’m sorry!"
>You set down the box of – um… condoms…? What department are you in again right now…?
>Does this *go* here…?
"Did you need help with something?"
>You give your biggest pony grin and hope the customer isn’t unhappy.
>And that they didn’t notice you just put condoms next to Legos.
>Because that’s awkward.
>You think.
>Maybe it’s a fetish…?
>Would that make it more awkward or less?
>You look up and oh no, it’s a human woman and she looks like one of the ones that Anon hates.
>And not just because they’re customers.
>Because they’re jerks. Because they’re… something.
>It’s hard to keep track. They all basically look the same to you.
"Yes, of course I need help."
>But this one *sounds* like a bitch.
>"Do you sell this here?"
>She flashes her phone screen at you.
>It went by so fast!
>And so high!
"I’m not sure if it’s in stock right now…"
>Because what even is she asking about!? All you saw was a streak of green!
"Could I… um… I mean, would you mind if I took a look at that again…?"
>She holds the phone out to you again.
>And actually lets you look at it this time!
>(But you have to stand on tippy-hooves.)
>It looks like a baby bottle maybe…?
"I’m sorry, I’m not sure if we have that particular brand, but I can ask someone in that department to –"
>"Well it says on your website that this store has it in stock!"
>Oh no!
>Why are the people at the website like this!
>The internet is full of liars.
>The lady presses on her phone’s screen a few times and shoves it in your face again which would be appreciated if it wasn’t quite so close now and also if you could read the words but at this distance all the letters look like weird blocky markings but not the right kind of blocky markings to be real words or the language of culture.
"Let me… um… let me try checking with someone in that department, because –"
>"Is this your first day working here?"
"No… it’s –"
>You reach for your name badge.
>You just got a recognition sticker last week!
>It’s gone.
>Berry is wearing your name badge.
>And the Bluebell badge you had been wearing was *defaced*.
>Anon took it way.
>You don’t have a name badge right now.
"I don’t work here."
>All employees must wear a name badge at all times.
>Therefore -
>You show her the empty spot on your vest.
"I’m sorry. I don’t work here."
>No name badge.
>Therefore you don’t work here.
>If someone saw you, you could get in BIG TROUBLE for working without a name badge!
>You slide your vest off and tuck it under a wing.
>Must find name badge.
>Any name badge will do.
>The customer says something, but you aren’t working right now.
>That means it’s someone else’s problem, until you find a name badge.
>You can’t even apologize to her!
>No name badge.

>You find a name badge.
>There’s one in the breakroom.
>If Sarah wanted to keep her name badge, she shouldn’t have put it down on the table when she went to get coffee!
>You can help that customer now!
>That makes you happy.

>She’s gone.
>Oh well.
>Oh no!
>Someone put a box of condoms on a shelf on the lego aisle!
>Those don’t go here!
>You have to put them back *right away*.
>What if a child saw them!
>Positively scandalous, as… as someone would have said!
>You pick up the box just as your walkie makes crackly static noises.
>You ignore it.
>Even if it’s for you, your mouth is full.
>Doo dee doo dee doo, condoms go in the –
>"… Fluttershy, come in Fluttershy!"
>Oh no!
>You set the condoms down on a shelf and nose the button on your walkie talkie.
"Um… heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey… go for Fluttershy."
>"Hey Fluttershy, have you taken your second break yet?"
>You *did* have to stop working because you didn’t have a name badge.
>And you *did* go to the breakroom.
>But were you on break…?
>But you didn’t get to listen to your music!
"I don’t think so…?"
>Did that count? Surely it didn’t count. But you’re not sure.
>Maybe it counted.
>"Then would you mind taking your break now so you can cover Brad’s lunch in Electronics?"
"Why is he having lunch in Electronics?"
>That doesn’t make any sen-
>OH NO DID YOU JUST QUESTION MANAGEME- waaaaaaaaaaaaaait, who is even talking to you right now?
>You don’t recognize the voice.
>"He’s… just… just go to break now Fluttershy and when you come back, go to Electronics."
>That sounds like they don’t know.
>If they don’t know, that probably means they’re management.
>If they’re management, you probably need to do what they say.
>But did you already take your second break?
>Does that matter?
>Management just told you to go to break.

>"What was that, Fluttershy?"
>"Are you talking to me?"
>"Just… just ignore her. She gets like this sometimes."
>"Is she talking to herself?"
>"Dude, I don’t even know."
>Ooops, break time is over!
>You better get to electronics.
>But still...
"Maybe I wouldn’t have to talk to myself if any of you didn’t have *shit* taste."
>There we go!
>It would be rude to ignore your coworkers!
>Even if *they* were rude first. Interrupting your song like that!
>How mean!
>But you can play nice.
>After all, you have to work with these people and teamwork makes the dream work!
>The princess certainly isn’t.
>And thanks to Anon, you now know why.
>She was *management*.

>What aisle did you leave your cart on…?
>There it is! The lego aisle.
>Oh, wow. Someone left a box of condoms on the shelf here!
>That’s not appropriate AT ALL.
>Someone really should take those back to where they belong.
>Who’s working go-backs right now?
>Is it you?
>You don’t *think* so.
>You can’t do that *and* work electronics at the same time!
>Electronics ponies need to stay in electronics!
>But still.
>You shouldn’t leave a cart right here in the middle of the aisle!
>It might be in someone’s way.
>You carefully balance up on your hind legs and push it all the way to electronics.

>This is easy.
>Easy is nice.
>All you have to do is stand behind the counter and hold keys.
>You’ve got them in your mouth.
>No pockets.
>Well yes pockets, but the keys keep falling out.
>That’s not good.
>If you knew something about clothing, you would suggest to someone that horizontal pockets on employee vests that are worn horizontally on horizontal torsos are a bad idea but you never took any kind of training on that so maybe you’re wrong.
>You’re probably wrong.
>You’ve watched enough anime to know this might be a design feature.
>It’s lucky Anon taught you about the five second rule or you might be in trouble!
>So far no one has bothered you.
>As far as you can tell, no one has even come into the department!
>Which is good, because you’re not sure how to talk to someone when your mouth is full of keys.
>oh no
>You always suspected.
>It just makes sense.
>"Hello? Is anyone there? I need help finding something."
>There’s a customer that needs help!
>And –
>You –
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>Can't call out, because your mouth is full of keys.
>Huh. Hmm.
>"Whatever, let's just get it at Best Buy. It's cheaper there anyway."
>"Yeah, sure."
>You smile.
>Problem solved!
>You do a happy little dance because happy customers are a good thing.
>But the next customer might not be so lucky!
>Best Buy might not have what they need.
>So you nose your walkie and –
> – aaaaaaaaaaand…
>Even you couldn't understand you were asking someone to bring a stool to the electronics counter for you, and you're the one who spoke!
>"Heeeeeeeeeeeey team, check your walkies. Sounds like someone is leaning on their walkie."
>Oh. Well. Good thing no one heard you.
>You would feel silly for not remembering about the keys if someone had heard you!
>But you need to do *something*!
>You could take one of the stools from customer service.
>But that’s all the way at the front of the store and you don’t think you’re supposed to leave electronics.
>You walk around to the *front* of the counter and hold the keys!
>It's not what you're supposed to do, but like Anon always says, the customer is more important than rules!
>So you stand *there* and wait with the keys.
>And wait.
>And wait.
>No one asks for help.
>Maybe they’re scared oh you.
>This is a serious job.
>Maybe you have your serious face on.
>You try to smile.
>Someone pats your head.
>You're doing a *good* job holding the keys!
>But still, you wish Brad was back.
>Holding the keys means you can't ask customers if there is anything you can help them with.
>They all seem happy, but are they?
>Gee, Brad sure has been gone a long time.
>You check… uh…
>Wearing a watch would be silly, but you can't pull out your scanner to check the time with your mouth full like this.
>You *could* check the register. It has the time on the screen.
>But you would have to go to the back of the counter.
>And you probably can't read it without a stool.
>Oh well.
>He'll get back when he gets back or when Anon tells you to clock out at which point it's not your problem.
>Another person pats your head.
>You're so smart!
>The only person who asks you anything asks if you're lost and need help and all you have to do is shake your head!
>Working in Electronics is easy!
>You don’t even have to unlock anything.
>The one customer you thought might need help unlocking phones was able to get them out of the case himself and put them all into a backpack so you didn’t even need to offer him a basket.
>This is the easiest job you’ve ever had.
>You don’t even have to fake anything!
>Until Brad comes back from his lunch.
>You give him back the keys, check the time on your scanner, and –
>You should at least push it up front so someone else can finish the abandons.
>Now where did you leave it…?
>Try as you might, you can’t find your cart.
>You find a pile of abandoned merchandise that seems oddly similar to what was in the cart, but not the cart, so that must just be a weird coincidence.
>Anon says those happen all the time.

“An thahs how my –“
>Anon pokes another pocky into your mouth.
>When does he bite the tip off and you kiss by accident?
>Anyway –
“- ay went, Ahohn. Brehty nohma.”
>”She’s still talking. Put another one in.”
“Shit, I’m going to get a new box. We should have just used duct tape.”
>”But this is more fun.”
“Yeh, Ah ike is ehta an uck ape!”

The next chapter is also ready, but it's just the list of things Anon isn't allowed to do anymore, so let me know if it needs posting or just straight to bin.

Flutters is diligently obeying all the rules but still manages to perform negative work. You’ve captured the essence of retail hell so perfectly, it’s a horrible sort of art!
Thanks for finally getting it out there, great to see these silly but very serious pones again.
Thank you so much for posting again I loved your twilight game name series so much, though I still need to finish it.

>I actually thought about posting a thank you on the tg board for that amazing green.
Write ponies that you like then, though weeb flutters sounds kinda fun.
I love fluttershy. Starting to wonder how much brain damage the animes have done to her at this point though.
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The neighbor's pony wants to play
Okay, did she finally paint her minis?
Too cute for retail. Life is cruel.
Yes, but they're in noncanon colors
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Extremely lazy horse
Welp, it's that time of the year, and I got a traditional (by now) short green, appropriate for the topic. It's not *really* SPG (although there are elements of it, and I did include a bath scene), so I'm not going to post the whole thing here. It's only about 15k words this year, but that's still a whole lot of spam.

Read it here, if you're interested, but keep in mind that this one is pretty gruesome: https://ponepaste.org/9472
If you upload this to Fimfic it will get 2000 likes and a feature. This shit was so fuckin good dude Jesus

Thanks! That's the plan. I'll probably rename the main character from "Anon" to something else (it reads weird for people who aren't used to it), and switch from green to paragraph format. Should be done in a day or two.

Glad you liked it. Was a bit hard to write, I gotta admit, but also very fun.

Any suggestions for the character name, BTW?
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For some ponies, very little changed. Minus both her daughter and adoptive daughter being taken away, but y'know.
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Happy spookums
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Makes sense, considering who set up the whole poneslavery deal in the first place.
Deepest lore.
Master arrived after a long day! His mares are needy.
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Black Pig poses for a spooky photo on her special day! According to Andian folk magic black guinea pigs are full of mystical energy every day of the year and can be used for divination and healing. (Not healing the pig: they don’t survive the process) I’m not too sure about that but my Pig of the Shadows does look cool on Halloween, just like a black cat.
What if your pony happened to be red and green, pink and white, all green, or something traditionally festive? Would you make a point of dressing them up and parading them around? It wouldn’t mean anything to them because their traditions are different but they might still get in the spirit of it.
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>Would you make a point of dressing them up and parading them around?
Pony is for adorable outfits.
This is pony's primary job.
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You know the meme Anon. You got scammed and got three stallions instead still horny for human cock
Are you talking about the fic where Celestia enslaved her self and pony kind for sex reasons.
Do you often frequent this board.
That sounded weird I mean do you come to this thread often.

Be Starline. (In the privacy of your own mind, never stop being STARLINE)
You were an unremarkable pony in a land of colourful ponies: dark blue coat, bright red mane and tail, a goatee that somehow turned white early when you hit middle age. Cutie mark rather abstract like most magic-related marks, a white shooting star leaving a trail of white and red stripes. A bold look that got you some traction with the fillies in your younger years but you never gave it much thought. It was only later living a new life (but is it really a life?) in the new world that you became a living stereotype.
The invaders gave you some weird looks after it all fell apart but then you gave these naked monkeys plenty of your own before and during. They’ll always look weird to you. You had an easier time of it than some in Processing Camp, you’d seen what they were capable of and gave them as little trouble as you could. That attitude served you even better in the auction ring; your new owner was looking for obedience scores and wasn’t afraid to pay for them, some ponies were not so lucky.
He’s pretty light on the brutality, the whip is only there as a reminder (mostly only) but he does use some psychological techniques to grind you down. You weren’t surprised when he insisted you answer to “Sam” from now on, naming a slave is the owners prerogative, at least it’s easy to pronounce and not obviously derogatory. Having to recite certain catch-phrases when signalled with a hand gesture is less common but you couldn’t complain, the alien cultural significance of “I want YOU for U. S. Army”, or “Yankee Doodle Dandy”, or “Don’t tread on me” was lost on you at the time. It’s not like he’s demanding you spout “death to the Princesses” or “I love being a slave” or some road-apple, right?
The work he actually bought you for was even related to your special talent! You specialize in channeling the magic of others into more precise pathways. There’s plenty of unicorn powerhouses around but their control tends to suffer when they’re going all out. Just as the star of your mark splits its tail into separate red and white streams you can help your partner separate the signal from the noise and cast at full strength with pinpoint accuracy. Or at least you could back then.
These days you help your owner enchant horn rings that separate the magic a ponies owner wants them to cast from magic the pony might want to cast. He’s got a decent business selling rings for telekinesis only, static enchantment only, casting within in a certain area only, the horrible ones that drain a unicorns magic until there’s nothing left, anything a customer can imagine really. It’s light work and you’re naturally good at it but day after day of slaving away has you wishing for a day off. There’s at least one day you can count on not grinding out the rings that chain your fellow ponies.
The masters sometimes call it “Freedom Day”…
Not often lately but he’s one of our big stars. Check out his work:
At least he’s not getting roped into helping celebrate Juneteenth! Slavery was part of the union from the very first Fourth of July but that would be really ironic.
They are only stallions if you want them to be.
I just wanted to thank him for the twilight romance fic.
I would like more Starli- er, Sam, please.
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>rename the main character
ff accepts Anon as the character, it even has a tag for it
what it does not accept is greentext format (depsite it being much easier to read)
All greens are dead.
Lies! Lies and slander!

> Thistle was barely looking at the way they were going. Her eyes kept straying to Salki who was walking beside her. Every now and then she stepped wide and brushed her side against his leg, or pressed her muzzle in his hand. On his part, Salki gave her more than the usual amount of head pats and ear scratches.
> None of the others had noticed anything, even when Salki volunteered to lead the donkey herd and sent Bulat to scout ahead in his place. Thistle hadn't minded helping with the animals either, not when it meant she would stay near Salki. Despite how thoroughly he had washed, she could still smell herself on him, and their mixed aroma was intoxicating. It took some effort to keep her tail modestly down.
> The morning had been largely uneventful, except for a few travellers they had met. Her companions had stopped and reached for their weapons the first time, until Thistle's hissed warning, repeated by Hisein, put a stop to it. Luckily the middle-aged man with his two bovines hadn't noticed anything untoward.
> He gave them a curious, if slightly suspicious glance, but hardly even stopped when Hisein tried to speak to him. It was not very fruitful, and the man didn't understand any of the two languages Hisein could speak. The one Hisein had used on the group of people they'd encountered before the mountains was perhaps the closest, because the stranger brightened up and repeated the odd word here and there.
> Unfortunately his replies made no sense to any of the nomads. Eventually the man grew frustrated, pointed in the direction he had come from and jabbered something which sounded dismissive to Thistle.
> Her impression was proved correct when the traveller slapped his animals on the side and got them moving again. He glanced back at the group a few more times, but then he was gone around the curve in the trail.
"I believe he wanted us to go that way. Maybe someone will understand us, or maybe there is a market. He looked at our donkeys and the things they are carrying."
> Hisein, still staring after the man, shrugged his shoulders. When he turned back, his eyes sought out the youngsters and he gave them their orders: "No more running around. Zaur and Temir, you guard behind the donkeys. Keep your eyes on the path behind us. Me and Salki will look at the front. You-" he turned to Thistle and seemed a little undecided.
"What if I and Salki watch the front?" Thistle proposed.
> "Yes, good," Hisein agreed. "You handle the animals, Salki will watch the road. Your eyes are not very good," he told her. "I will walk by the side and watch the forest. We will have Bulat stay near, when he is back."
> None of them argued with the plan and they all took their places. Before Hisein fell behind, however, he walked beside the mare. "What were those beasts that man had?"
"I don't know exactly, but they look a little like cows. They smelled like that house in the village."

> "These are the ones who drag the iron in the ground to make furrows?"
"Yes, I think. They were large enough."
> In fact, the sight of the two large bulls had somewhat intimidated the mare, especially once she'd spotted their sharp horns. They were more massive than any of Equestrian species and they reminded her most of minotaurs, except without claws on their forelimbs, and walking of all four legs.
> "Hm," was all the response Hisein gave before he slowed to take his place in the middle of their line of donkeys.
> After that traveller with his cattle, they met a few more. One of them was a solitary man, holding a spear, and the other group was a family of four. The former only had a pack on his back and a spear in his hand, but the family had a small wooden cart, pulled by the father.
> When they saw the first one, Thistle made a judgement call and hissed the word 'hunter' to Salki. Hisein hurried to the front in case there would be any trouble, but the lone man didn't seem particularly interested in fighting them, although he cast quite a few appreciative gazes at the bundles of skin other packages on the donkeys' backs.
> He suddenly stopped and said something, his eyes wide in shock and his finger pointing straight at the mare, at her vividly pink mane.
> Hisein and Salki stepped protectively in front of her, and the older nomad tried his languages on the stranger. Again it seemed as if he nearly understood a few words, but his questions were too fast to really make out.
> Once he'd given up and moved on, Hisein put a hand on Thistle to get her attention and whispered: "I think he said 'large village'. We should keep going in this way."
> By the time they'd met the small family, Bulat had rejoined the group and the others explained what they'd seen. He gave his report about a great many signs of hunters he had spotted in the surrounding woods, although he hadn't met anyone.
> Thistle suddenly had an unpleasant vision of Bulat and some stranger surprising one another and fighting out of sheer reflex. She implored him to stay with the group, and after hearing her reasoning, Salki agreed.
> Hisein only hesitated a moment, before nodding his acquiescence and had Bulat stay near the middle of the herd. Hisein himself remained at the front with Thistle and Salki.
> The family with the cart had come not long after, and they were visibly scared of the fierce-looking group. The man had immediately given the cart to the woman, presumably his wife, while the two children clustered close to them both. As they drew near, the man slid his leather tunic aside and put a hand on the hilt of his knife. He scanned the nomads with distrustful eyes, but didn't say anything.
> Thistle gave Hisein a light nudge with her muzzle and whispered:
"Talk to them."

> A little reluctantly, the big nomad flashed the family a smile and tried the language. The result was a little better than before and the woman was able to reply, at least vaguely, to his questions.
> In return, Hisein had told Thistle later, he'd explained to the strangers that they were a group of traders from the far east, looking to sell their wares.
> The exchange had cleared the air, and the man relaxed. After conferring with the woman, he pointed the way they had come from, then at the sun. He lowered his hand about halfway to the horizon, all the while talking in a strange language.
> His wife couldn't really translate, but she kept repeating the word for 'village' and pointing down the road.
> Interestingly, neither of them showed surprise at Thistle, perhaps because she had kept herself hidden behind Salki. The earlier encounter with the hunter was still at the top of her mind and she remembered how valuable her pink mane had been in the camp before everyone had gotten used to the color.
> Once the family had moved on, and her own group had started walking again, she started thinking about how to hide it, just in case.
> Dyeing it was not really an option, and however much dirt and grime she managed to rub into her mane it probably wouldn't completely hide the color. The best way, perhaps, was to create a makeshift hood she could wear. That would probably look weird to the strange people, especially if all the animals in the world were just dumb beasts, but it would probably be easier to explain than a bright pink mane. She discussed it with Salki, who agreed with her.
> Luckily noon passed without any more encounters.
> The nomads stopped to eat and drink a short distance from the trail around mid-afternoon. They were all excitable and kept trying to look in all directions at once.
> Thistle couldn't blame them. For the past hour she had been sniffing the air, trying to put her hoof on something. It was different than the untouched nature she'd gotten used to in the weeks of travelling, and perhaps, on some level, her nomads friends could also sense that.
> She thought it smelled like a small town. There was undoubtedly wood smoke, and she was sure she could pick up the slightly sour mix of unwashed nomad bodies and their waste.
"We are not far," she told her friends. "That man pointed at the sun, I think he was trying to say how long it would take us."
> "Yes," Hisein confirmed and shaded his eyes to look at the sky. "Soon, maybe another hand or two, and it will be as low as he pointed."
"I think I can already smell the village."
> At this, the other nomads lifted up their faces and sniffed, but one by one they shrugged and slumped back down. It was not surprising. Her sense of smell was far superior to the nomads', Thistle had learned, and even she could barely detect anything. At times she wasn't sure she even smelled anything. Maybe it was just her wistful imagination.

> Salki was visibly excited and couldn't sit still. He jumped to his feet and began pacing up and down the little clearing. "Yes, we will hurry. We can be there before tonight. Maybe there will be someone who can understand Hisein and we can trade! Do you think they will have horses?"
> Thistle wasn't quite sure. The family had had a cart, but it was too small for a horse to comfortably pull, and the shafts had looked as if they were made for human waist-height, rather than any livestock she had seen.
"I don't know, but maybe they will tell us where to find them."
> "Yes, yes, that's right. That's good. We will ask."
> Hisein, who had been carefully inspecting his flint knives until now, stuck the last one behind his belt and spoke up: "We should not all go into the village. I think we should not take the donkeys in."
> "What?" Salki said, freezing in the middle of his pacing.
> "We will leave the donkeys behind with some men to guard them. Only two should go in the village, to make sure they will not attack us."
"No, no," Thistle interjected, "I should come too. I know how villages work. I can help."
> Salki hurried over to her and put a hand on her head. "She is right. We could use her help."
> Hisein shook his head stubbornly. "No, her hair will draw eyes. You and I will go and find out what there is. Then we will decide. Thistle can help guard the donkeys. She will go later, when we are sure it is safe."
> "No, that's stupid," Salki said. "Mother put me in charge. We will all go in. We shouldn't separate."
> The three younger nomads looked worried at this disagreement, but none of them spoke up. Hisein was quiet for a short while, then he said: "What if they want our things, or our animals? We cannot fight everyone in the village. What if they want Thistle and her hair?"
> His question made the mare swallow in sudden fear. She had been imagining this new village like one of the more rural places in Equestria, but now Hisein's words had populated it with vicious nomad brutes.
> Luckily Salki didn't seem to have an answer for that, so he simply turned the question around: "What if they attack the two of us?"
> "Two can run away easier than all of us, and the donkeys. I do not think they will attack us. None of the people we met on the path attacked us."
> He turned to Thistle and pointed at her mane. "You can make something to hide your head. I heard you talking with Salki and it was a good idea."
> She gave him a nod with her ears splayed, beginning to realize that their journey might be approaching a very dangerous part.
> Salki didn't look happy at Hisein taking charge, but he couldn't refute the old, experienced hunter. "Fine," he said at last, with bad grace.

> Almost as if he hadn't even spoken, Hisein proclaimed: "We will go further from the road and make a camp. Zaur, you are the best runner, follow the path and find out how far this village is. Bulat will build your tent. If what Thistle says is true, and she can already smell it, then me and Salki can walk to the village in the morning."
> The younger nomads nodded, relieved to be given clear instructions. Salki, on the other hand, didn't seem as pleased. He sat down beside Thistle, eyes flashing with indignation. "Mother put me in charge," he muttered, but so quietly that no one except the mare could hear.
"Don't worry," she whispered back, "you are. A good leader will listen to advice. You will go and see what the village is like with Hisein tomorrow, then you will come get the rest of us."
> Salki didn't respond to her, but when Thistle nuzzled his shoulder, his hand came back to gently pat her muzzle. She smiled while her mouth was covered and gave his palm a quick lick.
> She still felt a little sore back between her hind legs. It had been a remarkable night, one she hadn't known how badly she needed.
> With luck, they would have another one.

A rather short update this time, sorry about that. I'm still spending too much energy at work, but it's tapering off.

Oh, and I'm visiting the grand ol' US of A next week for a business conference in NY, so *most likely* no update.

Anyhow, paste: https://ponepaste.org/7856
Even a small gem is worth it bro thanks for the update
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The first chapter is a tiny bit confusing when they discuss who "needs to go where". After reading the whole thing it makes sense. Maybe reword it a bit so a parallel can be easier drawn with "normality", but then maybe the reader forgets about it. Tough.
Minuette was coming onto Anon so hard. But I gues the big scary alien thing is behind the ponies if Twilight was his lover and all of them knew about it. On the other hand trying to bed the lover of a dead princess is odd.
My headcanon is that Minuette is a dentist, not a watchmaker but oh well.
After it was revealed that Twilight is dead I made a prediction that she is revived and to stay alive and they are doing something really unholy together like she eating ponies to stay alive and I was spot on!
Anon was really hesitant to feed Minuette to Twilight, with all of the "not yes" answers plus trying to suggest that she should go. But at the end he wanted Twilight more than Minuette.
Maybe the getting busted part is unnecessary. This ending sets it on a decided path where everything is predictable, not much is left to the reader to wonder about.
I find odd that how come that no one knows about Twilight being revived? Anon does not seem to have any magic. Also why did Anon have this house with Twilight's enchantments? If they were a thing I would assume Anon moved into the castle or something. And this Twilight does not have any magic so she could not enchant the walls.
And now we know what happened to Rainy Day.

Thanks for the update!
>more than the usual amount of head pats and ear scratches
Totally worth last night!
>she could still smell herself on him
That's not unusual. They sleep together most of the time.
>Thistle's hissed warning
She is getting some of her authoritative side back.
>guard behind the donkeys
So much for alone time. Now Mayor and Salki will be watched from the back too.
>What were those beasts - cows
If they don't know what these are how does Mayor knows the word for it?
So are they cows or bulls?
>pointing straight at the mare
And if said mare would start to suddenly speak that would frighten the man for sure.
>neither of them showed surprise at Thistle
Maybe because they have seen Rainy Day?
>pink mane
Or maybe other traders brought it this far already?
>dirt and grime
I had the same idea at first, but what about using blood? Mayor would hate it for sure.
>lifted up their faces and sniffed
And accidentally smelled what Mayor and Salki did last night!
>Only two should go in
On one hand it sounds good, on the other hand its dumb. Good because two feels less threatening (but if its a whole village 10 people is nothing even fully armed), bad because they could not defend themselves as efficiently in smaller groups.
>Mother put me in charge.
Pulling the rank card is stupid.
>runner, follow the path and find out how far this village is
Seems suspicious from the villager's point of view.

>so *most likely* no update
Write on the plane! Europe - US flight takes quite a long time. I did read/reply a few times while in the air. Not recently.

Thanks for the update!
Can somebody make or link a story where Celestia and Luna are forced to have sex with each other
There’s nothing like that here and it wouldn’t normally be our jam. Much more likely on our related thread /SiM/.
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What if they were forced to have sex in the shower?
Forced? Becoming strangely horny with less inhibitions than they used to practically comes with the collar. Doubly so if they have wings.
Good ponies get to be cuddled under the covers. Bad ponies get to sleep outside in the cold and rain.
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Reminder to brush your pone regularly
Proper coatcare is important
Well spotted: we DO have a certain weakness for bath scenes around here!
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>Funny, Twilight didn't remember going to sleep wearing cuffs
>Especially not with those cuffs restraining her into an all-too-vulnerable splayed out position>And while Anonymous always delighted in bound in some rump-revealing way, he wouldn't be so cruel (or deft) as to do it while she was asleep.
>Besides, this didn't feel like that.
>Anonymous (and Rarity, as her friend traitorous housemate had largely instructed him) tended to restrain her in revealing positions, but...
>As she squirmed, listening to the chains clink, she knew this felt different.
>Since when had Rarity (or Anonymous) used chains, anyway?
>"'non'ous?" she called through the gag painfully wedged between her jaws.
>Ah, so she was gagged too.
>A bit gag, by the feel of it, linked to the bridle painfully cutting into her muzzle.
>Well, it wouldn't be the worst thing she'd had in her muzz-
>Movement, behind her.
>A pony's hooves on the cold, hard floor.
>Twilight's head could not turn in the bridle's unrelenting grasp, but her eyes could roll about to stare, until they ached, at the mare circling her.
>It was not Rarity.
>Though what she wore might have been Rarity's design, given that the form-fitting harness did everything leather, steel, and strap could be asked to do for the mare's figure.
>And what a figure.
>Twilight knew her own body was... lusciously proportioned, while Rarity had always prided herself on an elegantly-sculpted form.
>But the room's harsh, sharp lights cast this mare's yellow coat in a chiaroscuro pattern of light and dark, highlighting a body that seemed not so much shaped as carved.
>Yet it was also a body bound in shackles just as Twilight's was; though her bridle was bereft of bit or gag, it was a bridle nonetheless.
>Fiery orange eyes regarded Twilight, sending a prickle of fear down her back and suddenly reminding her of just how vulnerably posed she was.
>But it wasn't until she saw the cutie mark that it clicked in her head who this fierce, predatory creature was.
>"Spi'fire?!" Twilight tried.
>Spitfire's wings shifted sharply, and Twilight gave a cry as something struck a blazing line into her rump.
>When the wings settled again, Twilight realized that the cuff which bound each halfway along their spans had also been fitted with careful tools.
>One held a thin, supple whip - the instrument which had just struck her - while the other held a curious three-clawed hook whose purpose Twilight did not care to speculate on.
>"Miss Spitfire, Ma'am, or Teacher," the golden-coated mare said, her voice low and yet still managing to put a shiver down the length of Twilight's spine. "I am not your Mistress, but I will not be disrespected."
>'What the fuck,' Twilight thought.
>"Wha' d'fu-"
>Another flick of the well-muscled wing, and another trace of lightning across her rump.

>Twilight went still, and Spitfire smiled.
>She had canine teeth, Twilight thought. Almost no mares had those.
>Twilight did not at all like the way Spitfire smiled now.
>That look of nervousness caught in her eyes, and the whip-bearing wing extended again - slipping its implement beneath Twilight's chin to keep her head still.
>"Your Master and Headmare," Spitfire began, "have mentioned to my Master that you have - issues, with self-control. He says you are 'disobedient'."
>Oh, fuck.
>"My Master has agreed to lend me to yours, so I can help with these issues."
>Twilight started to say something, and the whip's tip ever-so-softly tapped the bottom of her chin.
>Twilight stopped saying anything.
>"I want you to understand one thing right from the start, Twilight Sparkle. I do not prefer punishment. I do not like punishment. I use it, but fighting disobedience with punishment solves... symptoms. Not sources."
>Turning aside, Spitfire began to walk again - once more outside of Twilight's vision.
>But still she spoke.
>"What I teach, Twilight Sparkle, is discipline. Punishment only comes after the disobedience; discipline prevents it in the first place. Do you understand?"
>Say yes, Twilight.
>Say yes, and wait until she takes out the gag so you can explain.
>"Ye'h." Then, a moment later, "AAAGH!"
>Another line of white-hot pain on her rump.>This one hurt more than either of the first two, and Twilight was suddenly struck with the awareness that she was in trouble.
>Rarity and Anonymous both had delivered intimately painful lessons on obedience.
>But they were a fashionista and an average human; Spitfire was an athlete.
>How long would she be able to keep up on her poor plot?
>"Ye'h, Mish' Spi'fire!"
>The bit kept it from being a real answer, but despite Twilight's cringe, no fourth stroke came.>"Good. I talked to Rarity already, and she explained that your Master has already taught you some degree of discipline with some parts of your body."
>Something probed beneath her tail, and Twilight froze.
>No, no, no!
>This wasn't sexy, it was scary!
>(Okay, maybe it was kind of sexy in a scary way)
>But not like when she let either Rarity or Anonymous take her!
>Thank Celestia the probing there stopped - but the fear did not go away.
>If this was what Spitfire had been set to do...>When the mare stepped back into Twilight's vision, a pair of capped vials were tucked beneath the pegasus' wing.
>Both were taken out, carefully set on the floor before Twilight.
>"...clearly you need more discipline, though. This will teach you exactly that."
>"Wha's 'at?" Twilight whimpered around the bit.
>"We're going to share a drink," Spitfire replied with a smirk. "I think you've experienced this formula - and its effects - once before?"
>It took Twilight a moment to realize what she meant.

>Only then did the true panic set in.
>The last time, when that doctor had given her that wretched estrus-inducing brew, it had been nothing less than utter torture.
>At least then she was spared continuing torment by Octavia; now, Spitfire's stern ministrations were all she had to look forward to.
>Yeah, Twilight was definitely not too proud to beg.
>Not before this.
>But Spitfire only firmly shakes her head, then set about strutting back and forth in front of the bound mare - showing off every inch of her firm, lithe form, the buckles of her harness and chains of her shackles jingling with every step taken.
>"What you lack is discipline, and I am going to instill it. Here is how this is going to work, Trainee: We are both going to drink. Every time you whimper, whine, plead, or otherwise show an inability to discipline your body and mind, you will receive one stroke of my lash."
>Already Twilight flinched just in mere anticipation.
>If that was the requirement, her rump is as good as roasted!
>"...an 'oo?"
>"And me, Twilight?" Spitfire grins, showing off her canines again. "I will drink too. And I will show you exactly how a mare with discipline behaves. When you can restrain yourself, then we won't need these... stricter restraints to aid you."
>" mer'y?" Twiligh tried pitifully, eyes wide with pleading horror.
>"Mercy? This isn't cruelty, Twilight. This is self-improvement. This is education. So - bottoms up, Twilight Sparkle."
>The first vial was forced to Twilight's lips, pressed through where the bit cruelly tugged at her flesh.
>She tried to spit and blow the horrid stuff out as it poured onto her tongue, all metallic and bitter-tasting, but Spitfire forced her head back with practiced efficiency and ease until the last drops fell down her throat.
>Only then did Spitfire herself tilt back the second vial, downing it in one swift gulp.
> ...
>Every moment seems to stretch to an hour, every heartbeat to an eternity.
>Celestia taught that anticipation made every breeze into a hurricane, and how to push that aside.
>But Celestia never dealt with this (and Twilight frankly didn't care to think what this horrid brew would do to her).
>She had never had to lay there, shackled tightly in place, wondering if each itch or twinge was the firsts surges of unspeakable heat boiling up from within.
>The only immediate mercy was that Spitfire didn't seem to take Twilight's squirming as a lack of discipline; the whip was mercifully still.
>Even so, Twilight had to wonder, Spitfire couldn't be far behind her in feeling it.
>What was that mare's problem anyway?!
>What kind of madmare actually drink this stuff without-
>Somehow, despite her vigilance, the first twinges of need had snuck up on her without warning.
>That horrible, deep incessant need growing from deep within Twilight, filling her marehood with-

>The line of white-hot fire laid into her rump was almost a welcome distraction from the growing need.
>The whip Spitfire was using was far, far worse than any paddle or brush her Master or Mistress had employed; it seemed to lay its fire deeper into Twilight's rump.>Worse, it drew her attention to her hindquarters.
>A whipping across the back, thought Twilight, might almost have been welcome.
>Then she could have had some distraction from the all-consuming itch radiating from between her haunches.
>Already she could feel herself growing damp, growing swollen and prominent back there - her tail was already up, and she didn't even know when she'd-
>"No whining," Spitfire sternly snapped, tucking the whip back to her side.
>Had she been whining?
>Already, when the need was still grow-
>Ah, fuck!
>The need!
>Just thinking about it sent a fresh tremor through Twilight.
>Something wet trickled down along her haunches.
>"No wriggling, Twilight."
>"Oh, co'm on!"
>"No. Wriggling," Spitfire insisted, though at least she did not deliver a third stroke with that terrible whip.
>No wriggling?!
>How was that even possible!
>Every second the need seemed to grow; maybe it was only her memories of Gentlehoof fading, but this feels even more intense than what she'd experienced there.
>Now it felt like a monster tearing its way through her mind, reaving away reason and thought to leave only pure, acidic lust in its wake.
>Celestia above, that need was strong!
>She needed a cock in her now.
>Right now.
>She needed it pounding, pounding until it filled her-
>"Guh-!">Oh, that wink.
>She felt that wink.
>She felt the fresh splatter of wetness running down her haunches.
>And she flinched in anticipation of-
>Another line of white-hot lightning laid into her rump.
>Spitfire certainly wasn't holding back.
>Focus on Spitfire - that traitorous, sadistic whorse - instead of herself.
>How was Spitfire even bearing it?!
>She had only taken the drug seconds after Twilight, surely she couldn't be that far behind!
>Twilight focused her eyes on Spitfire.
>She seemed so - calm.
>Standing near perfectly still, except for her deep breathing, and maybe a twitch of her ear.
>Even her tail was being held perfectly low and proper; was she some kind of freak, a mutant?!
>Maybe Spitfire wouldn't mind helping her out a bit.
>She didn't have the cock Twilight needed, but a tongue would be perfectly good right now.
>And Spitfire probably had plenty of stamina; she could keep Twilight going for hours until-
>The thought of the well-muscled mare burying her muzzle deep beneath Twilight's tail was just too much.
>Twilight felt herself wink again, and worse felt her hips buck up to meet the imagined tongue.
>It might've been a whimper that emerged from her lips, or it might have been a moan.
>The drugged fog filling her brain made it hard to tell.

>The result was the same.
>"Your Master was right. You really don't have any discipline."
>As Spitfire settled back into her passive, waiting stance, Twilight tried to wrench her focus back to her tormentor again.
>This time, the signs were a touch more obvious.
>Spitfire's breathing wasn't just regular, but tightly controlled.
>Her wings were stiff and rigid at her sides.
>Muscles stood out beneath her coat, held tense and powerfully.
>Her lips moved just a hair, whispering something beneath her breath.
>It was still an unthinkable display of willpower, but at least Twilight knew Spitfire was feeling it!
>What would it be like to see Spitfire break?
>To see her squirming, writhing on the floor, desperately pawing at her marehood-
>This time Twilight even managed to brace herself a second before the whip landed.
>Not that it made the experience much better.
>Especially when her thought that Anon's paddle hurt so much less, was promptly followed by another twitch-inducing wink at the thought of Anon seeing her like this.
>Why couldn't he?
>He'd ridden her through natural heats before.
>If he could have joined her, or even him and Rarity both with that monstrous plastic toy of hers, and given her relief after relief-
>"AUUUUGH! Wha' di' I do?!"
>"Your tail is swishing," Spitfire said with a slight grin, "well, actually more like lashing. It's making a mess, you know. You're making a mess."
>She is breathing hard too, and it's clearly not from exertion - even as another three lashes drew yet another howl from Twilight's lips.
>"You really need to get that tail under control. If there were a stallion back there-"
>The thought of just being seen like this was enough to get her hips rolling.
>Because any stallion, human or pony, who saw her like this wouldn't hesitate to-
>Now wetness joined her cheeks as well as her rump, where the first tears dripped from her eyes.
>Spitfire opens her lips to say something.
>Before she can, a barely-perceptible ripple ran from nose to tail down her body.
>For the first time Twilight became aware that the overwhelming musk of her desire wasn't the only scent in the room.
>Aware of the splattered pattern of dampness beneath Spitfire's hips.
>In an instant, Spitfire was back:
>Perfect, composed, ironclad in her self-control.
>But now Twilight could see through the mask.
>She could see the little tremble of her lip, barely revealing a hair of the sharp canine tooth that had seemed so fearsome a moment ago.
>The subtle twitching of her tail, hinting at a barely-held back furious lashing.
>How rigidly and tensely her wings were held at her sides.
>Well, Spitfire wants to test her discipline does she?
>When Twilight felt the next wave of urge rising, this time she didn't bother trying to distract herself.
>She let the furious, ravenous need wash over her, soak into her.

>Her hips rolled as she winked hard, bridle and bit tugging hard (and perhaps a bit desirably) into her flesh, a rich and lusty moan escaping her lips.
>Her desire audibly splattered on the floor as she winked, hocks now thoroughly soaked in her need.
>'Fuck', Twilight thought, 'that was a mistake! I want something inside of me so much it almost hurts-!'
>But the reward was worth it.
>Spitfire grimaced, taking a step forward.
>And then stumbled.
>She gasped a short and shallow breath, her eyes focusing one somewhere far beyond.
>"/Slampa!/" Spitfire swore in muttered Pegasi, "that one was bad."
>Twilight allowed herself a strained grin - but it was a grin that fell apart as Spitfire refocused on her.
>"So," Spitfire hissed slowly, "You think you can break me, do you?"
>"Nooooph?" Twilight tried hopefully.
>"You might be able to play that kind of game with that ivory plaything your Master keeps, but not with me."
>"I think that little display might be worth about ten; what do you think?"
>Oh, no.
>No, no, no.
>This was really bad, Twilight thought.
>Strokes of the whip landed at a regular drumbeat across her rump, each one seeming to plunge the fiery pain further into her flesh.
>Yet, even so, now that she had let that relentless desire into her head, it wasn't possible to get it out again.
>Every hair of her coat practically itched with need.
>Her marehood was a furnace of heat, and even as the latest lash struck home, Twilight felt herself wink again and moan breathily.
>It seemed another eternity before the whipping ceased; her entire rump felt alight with sizzling lines.
>No doubt it was covered by a spider's web of welts now as well.
>Spitfire circled her again, eyes wild and wide.
>"You know, in some ways, I envy you, Twilight Sparkle."
>"You don't even have to try to hold back. You have it easy. The chains, the harness, the ring on your horn - they all do the work for you."
>That bitch.
>That utter bitch.
>Putting you in this kind of situation and then telling you it was easy!
>"I bet if you were free you'd light that horn and rub yourself senseless right now, huh?"
>The admission came with a heavy, burning sense of shame - but also realism.
>The burning itch was utterly maddening.
>"I-" Spitfire's haunches shuddered, muscles clenching tight until they stood out once more. "I don't have that luxury. That easy way out."
>"Then... pleash..."
>"Please what, Twilight Sparkle?"
>Twilight surged forward, chains snapping taught as she leaned into the other mare - smelling the husky scent of her own need.
>"Pleash! Hel' meh! Ton'guh! I gif up, 'kay? You're shtron'er, I'm weakuh, jush PU' Y'TONGUH IN'IDE O' ME, I NEED IT I NEED I NEED I NEED-"
>Spitfire fell deep into a bow, her muzzle wings spread low to brush the floor.
>"I failed, Master. I completely failed."

>"She's... completely untrainable."
>Turning her head, Spitfire looked back at the now-limp form of the purple unicorn, slumped in her chains.
>"I could beat her into playing along, but that's not what you asked me to do."
"No. It isn't."
>Spitfire nodded. "You could get obedience out of her, to avoid the pain. But never discipline. Never self-control. I've failed, Master. Whatever punishment you give, I'll accept."
"She got through to you, didn't she?"
>"...yes, Master," Spitfire conceded and seemed to sink even further. "I tried to not let her, but... the two of us, both deep in the heat together..."
"Well, then."
>Two vials, heavy with the thick potion, were set in front of her.
>Spitfire looked up, brows knit.
"One for each of you again..."
>In the background, Twilight stirred in deep-seated terror.
"...and this time, you'll be eating her out the whole time. So much as think about touching yourself, and it'll be worse."
>Spitfire gasped, the depth of her punishment beginning to sink in.
>"Yes, Master."

Silly things happen when inspiration touches me. Like stealing Vega's Twilight from Staying Out of Trouble and writing silly side stories where Spitfire subject her to fantasti- er, unspeakable tests. Anyway, hope you all enjoy.
Spitfire confirmed swedish? Unf
Man, I stopped frequenting these threads back when you disappeared. Someone said something happened to you, and I figured you died irl.
I was well over the grieving stage and now you've gone and undid me.
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Unf. Punish them both.
Nah, I [blogpost about shit getting fucked and leaving me too depressed to write but also not depressed enough to write].
I can't die. [Employer] wouldn't allow it. If I died, my suffering would end. It cannot end. My suffering is eternal.
So hot. Kinda unlikely, you’ve left a whole lot of world building undone to make any of this make sense, but it did what it was made to do. It’s great to see Vega-Twilight again even briefly and you’ve got his writing style down too. Thanks!
It does kinda make sense; that’s my new headcannon.
Well I would say "i hope things get better", but we all know it never does, so I wish for you the strength to change the things on your path that you can, and many interesting things to distract from the crap you can't.
dont know if another anon has but I already ponepasted this one
wasnt sure what lurker would have titled it so took a guess
Awesome, thanks!
>At least then she was spared continuing torment by Octavia; now, Spitfire's stern ministrations were all she had to look forward to.
The heat potion is NOT a commercial product. Dr. Roger is hoping to perfect and sell it someday but for now it’s an experimental drug he makes himself and nobody else has access to. What are he, Octavia, Spitfire, and Spitfires Pilot-Anon getting up to offstage?!
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Soft and fuzzy tum
Dear God that's cute. I would have no resistance.
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This picture always makes me think of Autumn.

We're doomed. Ponies have weaponized hypercutenes.
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Dirty poner gets SCRUBBED!
Looks like she's about to get dunked in more ways than one.
Applejack is so enthusiastic in her betrayal.
She understands the value of hard work and responsibility
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She also doesn't like a stinky sister.
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>People don't remember Swedish Spitfire
>Pic related
Ever since that meme back in the day, despite the in-show pegasi having a Greco-Roman aesthetic I've acquired a love of giving them a Nordic touch. Maybe it's just that I love the idea of pegasi also having a thick, cold-resistant coat like some of those northern horses.

Yeah, this wasn't really meant to fit in with more than the barest-thin degree of characterization - F&S Spitfire would probably meet the mere suggestion of this with a hoof to his face - so I left basically all the background unsaid and jumped straight to the lewds.

Thanks! I grabbed it as well, here: https://ponepaste.org/9511

Unspeakable things. The real question is, how did they get to the point where Spitfire is willing to dose herself?
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On a good day, she gets pets. On a bad day, she gets immediately thrown over the couch and plowed into next week.
>check OC tag
>it's male
Fucking bedcolts... they tricked me again...
>yet another shitbooru i gotta register at to view the rest of the tags
Feels like 2000s again, fokin 'ell
Dont have to register, just hit the Filters button in the top right and set it to Everything
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Reminder to not leave ponies unattended with anything sugary
They have a species-wide sweet tooth and poor self control
I can buy all the sugary crap that catches my eye but pony will eat most of it!? Heck yeah, instant diet. Sounds like a bonus to me.
>Implying being plowed into next week is the "bad" day
True, both are good days for her. A more selfish mare might even hope her master had a bad day in that case.
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Chubby pones get put on a diet for their own good
Don't worry anon, he probably moan like a mare.
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The pony uprising cannot be stopped
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Black pig is in very rough shape. I’ve known she had ovarian cysts for a while now, it’s a common guinea pig issue. I wanted to have her spayed in July but our vet wanted an ultrasound then to wait and see. This week though I could feel something was wrong inside her and brought her in. The surgery was successful but more complex than planned, one of the cysts had burst and they had to cut another incision in her back to get another angle. More time under anesthesia, more trauma, more recovery time. That’s where we are now: the surgical scars are actually pretty okay but her tiny arm where they put the IV in is still very swollen. She’s lost 60g, that’s a lot. I’ve taken several days off work. She’ll likely make it but I’m not certain and it’s hard for both of us. She’s not coming back from this 100% either.

I think I was right and the vet was wrong here, we should have done this earlier, but it’s not like I actually know better. She had solid arguments for delaying. How much weight would you put on your ponies opinion for these sorts of decisions? The final call is yours to make but she’ll suffer for it. The vet went to school and does it for a living but your pony has been living in her body her whole life. Humans have a deep understanding of biology but with ponies there’s magic involved. How much do you trust her judgment here?
Or maybe should your overweight smokers ass listen to some equine advice concerning your OWN health decisions?
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>page 10
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I sense a Mayor event incoming.
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He’s our most reliable green poster, practically carrying the thread by himself. Here’s hoping!
Pony is mad at her master.
thoughts on ponies owning other ponies?
/spg/ doesn’t discriminate. As long as ponies are owned we don’t mind who owns them.
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What about cozy owning ponies as a reward, for being such a good pet
Pony gets spanks
Hm, AWF did not post an "I'm alive" this Thursday.
I don’t come here often but I am happy to know that you got my thanks, have a great week, and remember twilight is best pony.
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Part time maid, part time bedmare.
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pon wants brushies
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Poner will get used to the uniform eventually
Until then you get an extremely blushy hoers
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pone on pone scrubbing action
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Why is her makeup running?
It's Rapebait brand mascara
She's trying to tempt her human into lewd acts, but nothing has worked so far and she's starting to run out of ideas
>Be a fully trained bedmare, near top of your class
>Your master never takes advantage of your services
>Self-esteem plummets
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Not dead yet, just a business trip to NYC where I didn't have any of my own electronics. Back now and working on an update for this Thursday.
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Oh I completely forgot. You mentioned this before.
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Reminder that horse is for holding
Since no one told me not to...

Drink 7: The List

- Anon is not allowed to form his own religion.
- Anon is not allowed to ask a manager if he is trying to get him pregnant, nor explain that's the only reasonable explanation for why the manager is fucking him this hard.
- Anon is not allowed to talk about his weekend plans, not even if asked.
- Anon is not allowed to refer to the toy department as New Orleans, even if he is right that it turned into an absolute disaster after Katrina took over the department.
- Anon is no longer allowed to say "I can't masturbate to that."
- Anon is not forbidden, but *is* highly discouraged, from celebrating Take Your Teddy Bear to Work Day. We’re not sure what he would do and we don’t want to find out.
- Anon is not allowed to leave the display TVs turned off "because of the environment."
- Anon may not, under any circumstances, tell customers they belong on a list.
- Anon *is* allowed to stock out romance novels and that does *not* violate our Sexual Harassment Policy, no matter what he says, even if it could be defined as "leaving materials of a sexual nature where others might find them."
- Anon is not allowed to tell members of management that he's just a lowly peon and has to do exactly what they say.
- Anon is not allowed to invoke the Nuremberg Defence, whatever that is.
- After consultation with legal, we are not allowed to hold Anon accountable.
- When asked if he has any friends that would like to work here, Anon is not allowed to laugh.
- Anon may not tell new hires about Luis to reassure them about how hard it is to be fired. Luis never pulled a knife on anyone, certainly never did it again after he was called to HR about the first incident, and was only let go after his probationary period because the store was overstaffed. No other reason. If he actually had threatened other employees, he would have been fired much sooner, regardless of how much paperwork it would have involved.
- If given instructions he considers "unbelievably stupid", Anon is to get clarification from someone higher up. If his blood pressure spikes, he should sit down until he feels better. He is not to count those instructions as fighting words or invoke stand-your-ground laws to “stop the attack.”
- Anon is not allowed to give new hires a fake name, not even because "illiterates who can't read my name badge don't deserve to know my real name."
- When asked if he's seen the Ninja blenders, Anon is not allowed to answer that they wouldn't be very good ninjas if he had.
- When coworkers complain about a task, Anon *is* allowed to tell them that a job is as fun as they make it. He is *not* allowed to follow up by suggesting they turn it into a drinking game.
- Anon is not allowed to assume from the anti-union training video that the company pro-Confederacy.
- Anon is not allowed to answer "when the stars align" when customers ask when we'll be getting in more PS5s.
- Anon is not allowed to tell his coworkers that he is not their manager.
- Anon is not allowed to say he will "abuse my employee discount like it's my step-daughter." It makes the other employees uncomfortable. (Have you seen Sam? Do we need to call CPS on Anon?) (Legal says no.)
- Anon is to use base 10 like every other rational human.
- When a customer complains about us having our Valentine's stuff up too soon, Anon is not allowed to tell them about the Easter candy.
- Anon is not allowed to forget he's forbidden from telling new hires his name is something else.
- Anon is not allowed to tell new hires it's rude to ask someone's name before giving your own and do some weird anime pose.
- Anon is not allowed to know what the new retaliation policy is, nor is he allowed to believe it is a guideline from corporate on how to legally retaliate against employees.
- Anon may not offer to call a manager over so a customer can complain about him touching her cart when she was blocking a fire door and refused to move it. He is not allowed to refer to a customer as "a fucking tease."
- Anon is not allowed to congratulate the manager over the sexual wellness section on her forward-thinking progressive policies that led to us having an entire selection of LGBT-friendly lube because "that shelf ain't straight."
- Anon is not allowed to say "okay" and walk away when told he doesn't need access to the fixture room.
- Anon is not allowed to take fixtures he needs off of aisles in other departments.

I'll leave it at three posts for now so it isn't too spammy.

This reminds me of the "Things Dr.Bright isnt allowed to do" List from SCP, atleast before that list got nuked. Intentional or funny coincidence?
These are - mostly - things I'm not allowed to do.
Every one is a little gem. The wonder isn’t that Berry drinks, it’s that anyone else can stay sober!
Trained filly.
a very good list
here's one.
>Anon is not allowed to offer to "slit his wrists" instead of attending the store's new years eve countdown.
When a customer asks how anon is doing, he is not allowed to respond with "I'm at work, for {store name}" and stand there as the customer laughs, because "that is all the explanation needed".
What the fuck is this.

It’s funny but I am curious.
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A list of stuff Anon isn't allowed to do at work. It's come up a few times in the story.
- Anon should not stand perfectly still when a coworker steers a loaded rack in his direction. He is not allowed to assume the coworker is trying to hit him and that it would be rude to move.
- Anon may no longer refer to the gardening sheers he uses for cutting plastic strips as Yakuza Scissors.
- Anon is no longer allowed to demand fingers from those who he believes have failed him.
- Anon is not allowed to know how many alcoholic drinks employees are allowed to have on their lunch break. NOTE - This applies to all non-management employees.
- Anon is not allowed to rename coworkers at his own convenience, not even if they are not wearing their name badges. Over 100% turnover is not a valid excuse to not learn the names of your coworkers.
- Anon is not allowed to look at the current license and permit board to find expired licenses.
- Anon is not allowed to point out that the manager chosen to lead the store's remodel hasn't successfully reset a single department in the past 2 years.
- He is not allowed to keep talking about it. We know.
- He is not allowed to ask why she was chosen.
- He is not allowed to say he knows exactly why she was chosen.
- He is not allowed to tell coworkers not to complain about her to HR or the Ethics Hotline.
- He is not allowed to make accusations that every employee that has officially complained about her has been fired for sexual harassment.
- Anon is not allowed to warn new hires about the ghost.
- When asked what his position is, Anon is not allowed to answer "store bitch."
- Anon is not allowed to ask to see the store's safety scores.
- He is not allowed to look them up himself and tell people exactly why our safety captain is running a safety campaign.
- He is not allowed to tell others this is the most dangerous store in the company.
- He is not allowed to compare our safety stats to stores in Chicago or any part of California.
- Anon is not allowed to ask - in front of customers - when the company will be issuing us with stab vests.
- Anon is not allowed to undermine our safety campaign by refusing gold star stickers on the reason that he is "a goddamn adult."
- He *must* put the gold star stickers on his name badge. He is *not* allowed to argue that the Employee Handbook forbids it.
- It doesn't matter that putting stickers or other decorations on name badges is explicitly forbidden by company policy.
- Anon is not allowed to mock the safety campaign prize by saying that as an adult he can buy his own candy bars.
- Anon is not allowed to refer to the safety board that shows the number of customer and employee injuries as the "kill/death leaderboard."
- He is *definitely* not allowed to encourage coworkers to push for "a last-minute turnaround."
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- Anon is not allowed to point out that our Active Shooter Policy requires evacuating the store if someone enters wearing body armor *and* that body armor is legal to wear in this state *and* body armor is not forbidden by policy or the Employee Dresscode.
- Anon is not allowed to wear body armor.
- No, not even if he paints it "the right colors".
- Anon is not allowed to talk about the penetrative power of a .25 and argue that anyone armed with one of those shouldn't be considered an active shooter.
- When Anon calls on the walkie for someone in another department repeatedly and they don't respond, he should walk to that department and try to locate them. He is not allowed to assume - and state - that they have been taken by goblins and declare himself the new department manager with all the perks and pay associated by right of resettlement.
- Take Your Child to Work Day is not a scam to get free labor out of minors, no matter what Anon says.
- There is no such day as Take Your Filly to Work Day, but if there ever is, by his own choice Anon is forbidden from celebrating it.
- Anon is not allowed to beat a goal “like an Alabama wife”.
- Anon is not allowed to tell people that they aren't in his way because he “would just pick them up and move them if they were."
>- No, not even if he paints it "the right colors".
Oh my god that is genius, ima gonna try that.
Even a .22 is not “less lethal”. If it hits you in the gut you’ll bleed out, eventually. If it hits you in the head you’ll die.
>back to /k/
Still hilarious that several US police departments used the AM-180 for riot control once upon a time.
wtf are you even talking about glowie, or are you a retarded ai that can't even Pars what I was talking about.
Maybe I actually am, because I can’t even Pars what you’re talking about!
- When someone asks Anon how long he’s worked here, he is not allowed to answer "long enough I should kill myself."
- When told that's not funny, Anon is not allowed to say it's not meant to be funny.
- When someone asks Anon if he needs help, he is not allowed to thank them for the offer but decline on the grounds that assisted suicide is still illegal.
- It doesn't matter how young our new district manager is or that she looked even younger. Anon is not allowed to call her Loli Leader One.
- Anon is not allowed to be supportive of new rollouts “for the chaos of it.”
- Anon is *never* allowed to ever respond to *anything* with "it's okay, revenge fantasies are my kink."
- Anon is not allowed to start an email with "I know you like to pretend signing doesn't exist so you don't have to do your job, but -"
- Anon is not allowed to hope that someone will actually do their job. Hope is not a valid plan.
- Anon is *not* allowed to propose other plans to ensure a task is completed.
- Anon is not allowed to do their job for them. He has other things he needs to do.
- If Anon cannot locate an associate for a particular department and they are not answering on the walkie, he is not allowed to find the nearest member of management and ask when the missing coworker walked out on us. It’s too likely and it’s really confusing when Anon says they quit but then they come back from break.
- Anon is not allowed to quote Dr. Manhattan about growing tired of these people.
- Anon is not allowed to look down and whisper "no."
- Anon is not allowed to quote Watchmen at all.
- Anon *is* allowed to refuse to train someone because he "doesn't feel like dealing with anyone today unless they're at least cute. Like a goblin-type shortstack." We're not exactly sure why it’s okay, but HR said it’s probably better to just leave him alone when he says that.
- When asked how he is feeling, Anon is not allowed to answer "healthy enough to be executed."
- Anon must wear a name badge. He is not allowed to tell other employees that it's forbidden by company policy because employee names are considered sensitive information and for internal use only. That's not what that policy means. He is not allowed to compromise and propose issuing everyone name badges with fake names.
- Anon is not allowed to throw a 12-foot ladder across a room because someone threw away all of his tools.
- Employees are allowed to listen to music before the store opens, but not Anon. He knows why.
- Anon is not allowed to talk about Space Jam or Space Jam 2 or make any comparisons between the two movies.
- Anon is not allowed to visually prove to coworkers that he "has no problem with flat girls."
- Anon is not allowed to show coworkers pictures of his ponies playing at the park after saying that. It's misleading.
Is there a sequel to the Stripped Screw story or is it only the one-off?
Story in question: https://ponepaste.org/8866
it ends there afaik, you're better off asking /ptfg/
I'll try there, thank ya anyways
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>Ponies can still have those twitchy pon instincts
>This you discover when you touch your maid mare's withers while she's focused intently on her work
>One colossal double-hoofed buck to the chest later, you're flying across the room and straight into a wall
>Ooooh, pretty stars
>The next thing you know-
>"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm so sorry!"
>-you're waking up with your maid mare standing over you, her expression a picture of horror and shock.
Wat do.
Try to hide my erection.
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> Thistle kept her head bowed as she walked into the new nomad settlement. She was supposed to be keeping a low profile, but she couldn't help herself from sneaking glances all around, curious to see how similar it was to a pony town.
> The houses were about as primitive as the ones in the abandoned village, but the din of people and animals made it look very different. It was obviously a bustling, living place, even if it obviously wasn't a center of commerce.
> She glimpsed the individual nomads stopping their tasks and pointing at the group. They were clearly unused to strangers, but there wasn't much fear. The newcomers were a curiosity, not a danger.
> Thistle was careful in how she turned her head around, mindful to keep her mane carefully hidden underneath her makeshift hood. Instead, she focused her ears this way and that in an effort to catch some of the strangers' language. She also kept sniffing the air, trying to identify what the people ate, what kinds of animals they kept, and what crops they grew.
> Meat and boiled vegetables were obvious, but anything more than that was hard to discern under the more mundane stink of unwashed nomad and the nearly overpowering stench of their waste. Thistle didn't know where the villagers did their business, but it certainly smelled like they didn't go very far. For that matter, she wasn't convinced they even bothered to dig latrines, instead of simply going in the street.
> The combination of the stink and the beating sun was threatening to make her nauseated and the mare blew air out her nostrils in a vain effort to clear them of the smell. Hopefully not all parts of the small village would reek this badly.
> She turned her head in a slow arc to try and recognize any of the buildings. It was hard to see through the hastily cut holes in her hood, and she jerked her head rapidly a few times to one side in an effort to align the slots better with her vision.
> It had been Hisein's idea after he and Salki had returned from their reconnaissance trip. They'd seen one traveller on the road whose donkey had a leather hood fastened over its head. Neither of them could come up with a reason for that, but it had proved a solution for Thistle's pink mane.
> Bulat was the best in their group with a needle, and he'd quickly sewn the neck of her cloak shut, so only her muzzle poked through, and cut a couple of holes for her eyes. It looked strange, pressed on her ears, and felt stifling hot, but it would keep her unusual mane color concealed.
> The tail was easier, and Salki had simply tied it in a bun and piled the animal skins onto Thistle's back so they overhung her croup and hid her small pink bulb from sight.
> Her whole getup resulted in the mare sweating profusely, but as she curiously examined the village she stopped thinking about the discomfort.
> She thought she recognized bits of order in the otherwise haphazard placement of the nomad huts.

> Well, perhaps 'nomad' was the wrong word. It worked for Salki and his people, but the villagers didn't look as if they travelled much. Thistle decided to adopt the word the nomads used for their own kind. Spoken in Equestrian, it sounded like 'human'.
> The humans of the village didn't seem to have huts dedicated to shops or businesses, but as she observed a larger building she saw a number of people going in and out. Perhaps some kind of a meeting place, or an early variation of a town hall.
> She also identified a stable, similar to the one in the previous settlement, with open walls and several large animals standing in the shade. No horses, but there was a cow and a few goats, Thistle could see.
> Her examination was interrupted as a few spear-carrying villagers approached the trio. One of them spoke in a language Thistle thought she'd heard the previous day on the road. After Hisein replied, the guards, if that was what they were, waved their hands. Thistle didn't understand their gestures, but her nomad friends apparently did, because Salki lowered himself into a crouching position and began to pat around her hood.
> He was pretending to adjust it and whispered to her: "[They want us to wait here.]"
> His guess was confirmed when one of the villagers ran to the large building Thistle had identified earlier. The others, spears still held firmly in their hands, watched Hisein and Salki curiously. One of them pointed at the mare and jabbered something in his tongue.
> After it became clear that neither Salki, nor Hisein had understood a single word, the villager shrugged and went back to looking around.
> As they waited, Thistle began to wilt under the hot sun. The animal hides on her back were sweltering, and the hood felt like it was constricting her breathing. Luckily Salki noticed her distress and quickly ripped the bottom of the hood to make a larger hole for her chin. She gasped for air while he retrieved his water skin.
> He poured some in the palm of his hand and Thistle gratefully lapped it up, even if the water was stale and lukewarm. Underneath her belly, droplets of water she spilled joined her dripping sweat and pooled on the dry dirt.
> The drink helped and Thistle had begun to look around once more when the original villager returned, towing an older human by the arm. They didn't move particularly fast, mostly because the elder's age, but they eventually made their way to the nomads.
> As Hisein and Salki inspected the new stranger, the old man spoke up: "[You say like this?]"
> The hunters looked at one another in surprise, but then Hisein quickly answered. "[You know our language!]"
> "[Some,]" the villager said. He exchanged some fast words with the others and they left, all except for the one who had fetched the elder. "[Why you come here?]"

> Hisein extended an arm to show the skins piled on Thistle. "[Trade,]" he replied, keeping his words as simple as he could for the strange human. "[We have skins. We have meat. Maybe other things.]"
> The geezer cast an appreciative glance over Thistle's burden, then examined Salki, who was still crouched beside the mare. "[You come from mountain? Sun go up, there you?]"
> There was a moment's confusion as the trio tried to piece this question together. Thistle understood it first and nearly blurted it out, but luckily managed to clamp her mouth shut before she could betray herself. It still caused her to toss her head and stomp her hoof in excitement, which caught the attention of the old man.
> He reached a finger to tug at her hood and she quickly drew back, so he wouldn't expose her face. Luckily he didn't seem to mind. "[Why this?]" he asked instead and pointed a finger at the cloudless sky. "[Sun. Sun hot. Donkey die. Hot.]"
> She almost found herself nodding to his words. Salki was about to answer, but Hisein put a hand on his shoulder and simply spoke over the younger nomad: "[Yes, from the mountain. We come from East. The sun comes up - East.]"
> He'd figured it out and Thistle stifled another small smile. She had to remember that the hood hid her face, but not her muzzle.
> "[Good, good,]" the interpreter said. He relayed all of it to his companion, who responded in their own language. After a short back and forth, the elder took a step back and gestured. "[Come. Come. You speak shef. We trade. Come!]"
> It was a very promising start, even if the invitation was a little sudden, and the two nomads with her hesitated at the reception. Thistle discreetly nudged Salki's side, making the younger hunter stand up and take a hesitant step after the retreating elder. He was taking them to the large building, which was exactly what she wanted. The other stranger with them stayed between the newcomers and the old man, and kept glancing back as if unsure whether they would follow.
> After a few more moments both Salki and Hisein began to walk after the pair and Thistle gladly followed. It wasn't far, and the village wasn't large, but the mare was very much looking forward to the comparable cool inside. She kept glancing at the dark opening with eager eyes.
> There was a fresh commotion as more people came out to meed the little group, and a lot of discussion took place, all of it in the language none of Thistle's group could understand. They stood around, uncertainly, while the old man gestured and pointed. At last, he waved a had off to one side and said: "[Donkey there. No sun. There. Bring skins. Show skins. Trade.]"

> With a sinking heart Thistle realized she wouldn't be allowed inside, but at least the human had thought of her and had pointed out the shady side of the building. She would be out of direct sunlight. It wasn't great, and her ears folded down as she resigned herself to standing uncomfortably beside the building and dripping with her own sweat.
> The villagers spoke some more, and the guard who had accompanied the elder walked away. Thistle and both nomads watched him go in curiosity.
> When the old one saw their interest, he tried to explain: "[He bring water. Water for donkey. Hot, donkey die. Water.]"
> It was music to her ears and Thistle felt a little better about her predicament. She remembered they would also take the skins from her back, and she almost smiled again in relief. With luck, they'd come to some arrangement and she wouldn't have to carry the damn things back to their camp.
> She took her place in the shade and watched as Salki tied her lead rope to a wooden stump in the ground. It brought back unpleasant images of Willow and those first days in the nomad camp, but she suppressed the memories. Salki leaned down by her head and murmured: "[Wait here. Do the horse noise if you're in trouble and we'll come out.]"
> All she could do was snort and give him a slight nod, both of which made the young nomad grin.
> Then he was gone and Thistle went back to observing the life in the village.
> She hadn't spotted any horses yet, which didn't bode well for their quest. The place was small enough that she'd be able to see the creatures if any were around.
> They could be out, working the fields, but she would have expected at least a few left in the village.
> There were more of those big, brutish bulls, and several cows. She saw a herd of goats and a good number of donkeys, but not a single horse.
> At least there was someone who spoke their language, however badly. Perhaps they'd get directions to where horses might be found.
> Of course, Thistle realized, that meant she would have to carry the animal skins back.
"Oh, crap..."

A bit of a short one today, haven't really gotten the time to do more, but I thought it was important to keep moving, even if it's small bits.

Paste: https://ponepaste.org/7856
Awesome! Seeing an update from you always makes my day. This green is very captivating. Thanks!
>were a curiosity, not a danger
Or that they know that they are kept in line.
>mane carefully hidden
And her tail? Don't think about lewd stuff, she might lift her cover!
>instead of simply going in the street
Don't worry, they will be a superpower in a tens of years.
>holes in her hood
For some reason I imagined Mayor in an Executioner's outfit.
>mare sweating profusely
Even without this cloak, she would feel uneasy. They are in a middle of an unknown village afterall.
>ripped the bottom of the hood
This is going to be suspicious. Because if the villagers assume that its not the first time for Mayor to wear this mask then its odd that it needs such adjaustment.
>You know our language!
Mayor just lost her job.
>We trade. Come!
Great! They seem to be welcomed.
>Donkey there
>Water for donkey.
Good hosts.
>not a single horse
But maybe the villagers know who has one.
>she would have to carry the animal skins back
Or whatever they trade it for.

Thanks for the update!
Depends. If it's unobserved by a third party, pull her into a hug while I wait for the pain to subside and give her a gentle but firm swat on the flank. If it happens to be observed by a third party, do the same, but then calmly tell her to retrieve her ice cream from the freezer, place it on the porch, and watch it melt away before washing off the porch.
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Reminder that pony is for carry
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>Wasting food
You absolute fucking monster. You ask your neighbor if his pony has been a good girl, then give her the ice cream instead! Sicko.
It is regrettable, but if her misstep is observed by another human, or an unknown or disobedient pony, a show must be put on. A master who is light with his punishments is one who is sympathetic to the pony plight. One who is sympathetic to the pony plight will be asked his opinion on the freequine rebellion by strange men in polo shirts.
Hey, hey, hey! If the thread dies, a pony gets beaten! Don't let the thread die!
Its a bump or be bumped world out there, and pony does its job
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Poner has been distrusting of the ball ever since that time master threw it and it just disappeared
Imagine little ponies little enough that a d20 is the size of a tennis ball to them. Running around on the floor to catch stray dice in return for a headpat or little treat. Scampering across the table when a throw goes a little far so you don't have to stretch to retrieve it, then curling back up next to your cup of coffee to make snippy comments about your character's choices.
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I want 10
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Trust issues
>A team of 50 pocketpones coordinates to make your meal for you
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The ponies on the street are free. You can just take them.
In a manly fashion?
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the story about Ginger Snap and the bakery ponies has permanently affected my brain chemistry, thank you spg
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>check tag
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good master
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A little reminder that unlike a mare he will make a mess on the bed, all his fluids will stain the sheets
he will be a mess when I'm done with him
So this is how the stallions of equestria look like after generations of slavery?
Pony does the laundry, so problem solves itself
>Implying that the sheets are not going to be absolutely fucking soaked by the time I'm done with my mare.
I hope you're giving her food and water breaks, at least.
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>that position
>that blush
What a teasing slut
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Master is in danger from his new purchase
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Good poners who do their best get rewarded with pets and snackies
What type of bell collar you make her wear? One which make noise or a silent one?
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Maid (stallion)
Thanks! Love to see people enjoying it.

Astute as always. Thanks for the commentary!

> "[Stand still!]" Salki admonished, his hand lightly slapping Thistle's rump.
> Her ears folded back and her face reddened a little at having to be told off like a school filly, but she really couldn't help fidgeting a little as he tugged at her tail.
"[I'm trying!]" she replied, but her voice came out slightly more whiny than she'd intended.
> Luckily the nomad didn't pick up on it, so focused was he on his task. Despite how adept his fingers were, tying thin strips of leather into her tail caused him to yank with jerky, unpredictable, *irritating* little movements.
> Thistle lifted her hind leg to stomp it down, a reaction so deeply ingrained in her body that she wasn't fully aware she was doing it until her hoof was in the air. She gritted her teeth and lowered it gently to the ground.
> Salki didn't notice because he was looking away, picking strands of hair from the ground beside him. He selected a lock and twined it into her tail.
> It didn't help that the whole thing had been Thistle's idea. After nearly cooking herself alive under her heavy cloak, she came up with a brilliant solution to hide her unusual mane and tail color. Well, she'd worked out what to do about the tail, at least.
> The mane would have to stay under some kind of a hood for now, but at least she wouldn't have to wear the blasted cloak anymore.
> She'd gotten Salki to cut her tail extremely short. Far shorter than she'd ever agree to otherwise, in fact. That was the first part of it. The second bit was slightly more embarrassing.
> Bulat and Temir, the youngest members of their troupe, had agreed to go through the donkey herd and snip tail hairs from them. Just a few strands from each, so it wouldn't be noticeable. They'd gathered a good bundle of brownish tail strands, which Salki was now weaving and tying into her own.
> That wouldn't completely hide the pink color, of course, but Thistle had thought of the solution. It wasn't one she was proud of, and it was sheer luck that nomads didn't know anything about the more secret and shameful bits of pony culture.
> For that matter, Thistle herself had only had a few vague experiences with an ex coltfriend just after her college days.
> Tail wraps.
> The nomads wouldn't know the significance, she kept telling herself. It would be practical, to keep her cooler in the summer heat, and it wasn't like most nomads or humans were interested in looking at pony butts.
> A few were, Thistle's treacherous thoughts supplied. It had taken some work, but by Celestia she'd made Salki interested in pony butts!
> It was an unusual feeling, a mixture of shame and pride.
> "[What was that?]" Salki suddenly asked. His jerky motions had stopped.
> There was silence for a while and Thistle twisted her head to look at him. The young hunter was frowning in confusion at her tail.
"[What is it?]" she repeated.

> Strangely, Salki glanced around to see if anyone was near, and then lowered his voice despite them being some distance from the fire pit, where the others were sitting and talking loudly.
> "[Your- Your *thing*, it did something!]" Salki said, his eyes furtively darting around and never quite succeeding in making eye contact with her.
> Thistle realized what it must have been and suddenly her own gaze was drawn in every direction except toward the nomad.
"[Just ignore it. It happens sometimes. We- uh, we call it 'winking'.]"
> This was incongruous enough for Salki to stare openly at her. "[Winking? You mean like with your eyes? Why?]"
> The gave a slight shrug.
"[It's just what it's called. Ignore it.]"
> "[Why does it happen?]"
> Thistle felt her ears splay and she knew her face would be reddening, but she hoped Salki wouldn't immediately notice. She brought her voice down to just above a whisper.
"[Because of what you're doing!]" she hissed. "[Your fingers. It means- ugh- it means I like it.]"
> She wasn't looking at the hunter, but she felt his hands withdraw from her tail. "[Oh,]" he said, but didn't seem to know how to go on.
> Thistle cleared her throat and pushed forward.
"[Just ignore it, okay? Keep going, we're almost done!]"
> That successfully broke the ice and Salki bent down to his task once more.
> He'd helped fill in some of the detail of the plan. Thistle had wanted to tie donkey hairs directly to her tail, but Salki had said it would be easier to use bits of leather, and the tail wrap she'd suggested would hide all the little knots anyway.
> They had to borrow the extremely sharp knife from Hissein, who was amused by the whole idea but didn't oppose it. Salki had also been the one to ask Bulat and Temir for their help with the donkeys, much to Thistle's eternal gratitude.
> True to his word, Salki's deft, precise fingers allowed him to work with bits of leather far thinner than Thistle could have imagined. She knew the nomad women did quite good stitching with some plant-based string, or sometimes with animal tendons, but the group of hunters didn't have anything of the sort with them.
> That was a bit of an oversight, Thistle realized. If any of their clothes or tents broke and needed mending, they wouldn't be able to do it. She would plan better the next time.
> Then again, seeing how Salki could manipulate thin straps of leather, maybe they didn't need sewing for basic repairs.
> She returned her eyes forward and stoically endured more tugging and jerking of her tail hairs. At least the discomfort meant she wasn't getting frisky again, which meant she wouldn't startle the poor nomad with more unintentional winking.
> It could wait for later tonight. He obviously hadn't been paying very close attention to her body.
> She'd have to teach him better.
> "[You did it again,]" Salki said, but this time he didn't stop fiddling with the hairs and leather strips.
"[Just ignore it!]"

> To get her mind out of the gutter, Thistle glanced back at the pile of donkey hair. It was almost uniformly brown, with a few different shades, all in approximately the same color. It no one would be able to see that it was several hues once it was all woven together and mixed.
> As long as her tail wasn't pink, Thistle thought, it wouldn't have to stand up to any sort of detailed scrutiny.
> Beside the tail strands, on the ground was a long piece of leather Salki had used to cut his little strips. The rest of it would serve as a wrapping to hide the pink parts of her tail, and the knots which joined those to the donkey hair.
> She wondered if she'd be able to use the fake tail with anything near her usual pony dexterity. It didn't matter, but in these hot lands it would have come in handy for swatting away annoying insects.
> At least the hood would help to keep the flies away from her face.
> Her face...
"[Hey, Salki?]" she called out.
> "[Yeah? What?]"
"[I think, I figured out why that man's donkey had the leather hood.]"
> "[Yeah? Why?]"
"[It keeps away the flies from its nose and eyes!]"
> There was a momentary silence and a pause in Salki's tugging on her tail, then he patted her flank. "[That's probably it. Good thinking.]"
> Thistle smiled to herself. At least one mystery was now solved. A few more had been answered by the nomads during their meeting in the village.
> This wasn't the 'Two Lands' the nomad traders had mentioned. The people called themselves the 'Karah-suk'. They did know about the Two Lands, though, and said it was a very powerful nation a lot farther East.
> The bad news was that their selection of preserved food wouldn't be worth a whole lot, not with the Karah-suk and their domesticated cattle, which provided them with fresh meat whenever they needed.
> On the plus side, the fine animal pelts they'd brought were exotic. The locals did not hunt as much, and the wildlife around their settlements had been thinned out to the point where some types were hardly ever seen.
> Especially the big felines had seemed to catch the natives' eyes. The brown and yellow pelts with black spots in particular had drawn a lot of attention, Salki had told her. He'd described how the villagers kept running their hands through the soft fur, nearly devouring the luxurious skins with their eyes.
> She had heard, although from Hisein this time, that the local chief, or 'shef' as they called him, had offered Salki a trade right there and then. The young idiot had nearly accepted on the spot, but luckily Hisein had caught the villagers' excitement and their shifty glances. He'd realized the skins were probably worth a lot more, and had flatly refused the first offer.
> They'd haggled for nearly an hour, and in the end Hissein had gotten almost twice the amount the villagers had offered initially.

> In return for the skins, the villagers had given the nomads a selection of things which was infinitely easier to carry: a few good, iron knives. One of them was nearly long enough to be called a sword.
> Thistle had tried to explain the idea to the nomads, but they shrugged it off and said their spears and bows were good enough.
> They'd also gotten some bronze jewelry, and a few sacks of grain.
> She had to carry all of that back, but at least it wasn't hot, stifling fur pelts.
> With these new items, the villagers had assured the hunters, they could buy a few fine horses in one of the neighboring towns. That was good news indeed, especially considering that they had a few more animal pelts in their camp.
> Thistle was a little sorry Hisein had traded the pelts at all. Now that they knew how much these Karah-suk humans valued them, the nomads could have gotten a better price for them at a larger settlement. She'd told Hisein as much and he promised he'd try to keep her closer the next time they traded.
> Hisein had wisely kept from mentioning the few bits of silver Darga had given them. He'd seen that the villagers only wore bronze ornaments, and only a few of them. It was possible they hadn't seen silver yet, and perhaps they would value it even more than the exotic pelts.
> The idea felt strange to Thistle and she had to remind herself that the nomads' world appeared to have a lot less gold or silver, compared to Equestria. Such metals were exceedingly rare.
> Of course, perhaps it was just a matter of finding and mining them, something the nomads obviously didn't do. She agreed with Hisein that it was worth holding on to the jewelry until they found a suitably large and rich place.
> It would help them get even more horses, which would allow the camp to establish their herd a lot quicker.
> The outlook was good, and with her tail extensions Thistle would be a lot more comfortable walking around this sunny, hot land.
> Perhaps, she thought again, if they rubbed charcoal into her mane, it would hide the color. It might be worth a shot, especially if it got rid of the hood. That thing made her head sweat rather a lot.
> "[There,]" Salki said suddenly, waking her up from her reverie. "[I'll wrap it up and we'll see how it looks.]"
"[Yes, thank you.]"
> At least the irritating tugging was over. Thistle let out a breath of relief.

> ~~~~

"[Salki, you should not be looking at it this way,]" Thistle was saying as the two walked side by side.
> They'd left the village behind and were following a slightly better road to where the old man had explained they could find a larger settlement with an actual marketplace.
> Unfortunately, despite not having any burdens to carry and the pleasant shade of the thick forest canopy, Thistle couldn't relax and enjoy the walk.
> Salki was pouting.
> There really wasn't any other way to describe it. It was at the same time funny and annoying.

> "[He shouldn't have taken over like that!]" Salki repeated.
"[You said he got more knives and bangles from the trade!]"
> There was no way for Salki to dispute that particular point. "[It doesn't matter!]" he whined, "[Mother put me in charge! If I say we make a deal, why is Hisein haggling? What if they got angry?]"
> The mare snorted and shook her head to loosen her hood a little in an effort to get some fresh air under the thick, oppressive leather.
"[They didn't. Hisein knows how to deal with people. They were trying to trick you!]"
> "[He keeps saying I'm in charge!]" Salki went on. "[He can't say I'm in charge and then do that! I could have gotten us a good trade too!]"
"[You were about to accept their first offer.]"
> "[No I wasn't!]"
> Thistle rolled her eyes and considered smacking the idiot boy with a hoof. Sometimes she forgot that he was barely considered an adult in the nomad community, but times like these made it painfully obvious.
> He simply spoke over her: "[I am in charge! That means Hisein has to do what I say!]"
"[That's not what being in charge means.]"
> Unfortunately it looked as if Salki wasn't quite listening to her. "[That's what Mother says! Everyone has to obey the chieftain!]"
> He went back to muttering something beneath his breath and Thistle didn't bother to decipher. She would try to explain it to him once again after he'd calmed down a bit.
> Maybe once they finished their objective and were on their way back, or perhaps when they saw a new place and Salki got distracted from his silly little grievance.
> He'd been in a foul mood since the previous evening. Thistle had gone in the tent early to try and sleep off her headache, and hadn't heard what the nomads had spoken about at the fire. She was nearly out when Salki had stomped in, grumping and complaining.
> It meant that he wasn't in the mood for anything physical, and the nights were warm enough that they didn't share a cot, so the mare had simply pulled a blanket over her head and went to sleep.
> All that sun hadn't been very good for her and she resolved to do something about her mane to get rid of the hood as soon as possible. That would keep her from cooking her head in the thick leather, at least. She probably wouldn't be able to get away with sun hat, though, even if Thistle knew how to build one.
> Unfortunately, Salki's mood had persisted into the morning and seemed to be getting worse as the heat built up. Thistle just hoped the road, such as it was, wouldn't leave the forest. Open skies with that merciless sun would be a nightmare, and would make the nomad feel worse.
> Maybe she should find a way to distract him?
"[Salki!]" she said sharply, interrupting his half-muttered, half-grumbled monologue. "[Let's instead learn some more Equestrian!]"

> She almost held her breath as Salki considered it. He'd been improving during their trip and both Bulat and Temir had picked up a lot of her language. They didn't see much use in it, but it was something to do during the boring walk.
"Please? I don't want us to fight."
> Salki reached out a hand and patted her back. "No worry," he said in thickly-accented Equestrian. "I not fight you." He repeated in the nomad language to make it clear and emphasize it: "[I won't beat you. Don't worry.]"
> The misunderstanding actually drew out a tiny chortle from the mare.
"No, fight doesn't always mean fight, like with hands or weapons. It can be a fight with words, too."
> His blank expression told her she'd lost him, but Thistle just smiled and switched languages:
"[We use the same word for beating and for arguing, Salki. I don't want us to argue.]"
> "[Oh. Okay.]"
> He didn't say anything more, so Thistle shrugged to herself and tried to come up with a lesson.
"[Repeat after me.] Princess Celestia raises the sun each morning..."

A bit of comedic relief, I guess? Not all problems poor Meyermer has to deal with are physical. Sometimes it's just an aggravating day and everyone is cranky.

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bumpin to read later
What if ponies enslaved themselves without any human involvement? Where does the money go when poni sells herself to you?
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>Where does the money go
Cowbell. Noisy as fuck. Remind her that she'll never be master's little milky mare.
That's a mean reminder. Be good to your pony anon!
But those advertisements she saw on the magic box said they'd make her milkier than a herd of broodmares!
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Maidpone doesn't care. As long as it's not like her last job.
Kirin snackies are very different
They still love pets though
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>kirin slaves single-handedly revive the coal mining industry
Did anyone ever get around to writing the proposed EQG hucow slave farm thing?
>anons dont ask him to continue
it's filth like you that ruin my enjoyment of the board anons, good content thrown in the trash because ur phone scrolling while playing a youtube lets play while scrolling threads on ur second monitor
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Pony wants attention
Decoy laptop works as expected
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Those clothes were furless for about 45 seconds.
The downsides of poner ownership.
Are you advocating shaving ponies?
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>I'm trying!
She speaking means they are in a safe/private space.
>what to do about the tail
Wouldn't it be easier to cut it? Almost shave it.
>cut her tail extremely short
Okay then.
>Far shorter than she'd ever agree to otherwise
She will feel exposed for a while.
>snip tail hairs from them
She won't feel that exposed after all. Will be hard to truly hide the hairs on her dock, but covering that is more convenient than having a skin covering most of her body.
>Tail wraps.
Salki will have a tent to hide too.
>Your *thing*, it did something!
Has he not noticed it while the two were going at it? Or has he not seen how the jennies act while in heat?
>ignore it Ignore it ignore it
>but didn't oppose it
Didn't Hissein called dibs on her tail the last time? And did not cut it immediately because her mane was enough.
>At least the discomfort meant she wasn't getting frisky again
One fetish crossed off the list.
>She'd have to teach him better.
Did not take long to circle back to frisky thoughts.
>as her tail wasn't pink
By the way, why is it an issue if they see her pink mane/tail? If we assume they don't kill the nomads then they can just lie that this animal can be found from where they come from. They will definitely try to trade it, but the nomads can just demand a very high price.
>donkey had the leather hood
Won't it be a bit suspicious if Mayor significantly changes in appearance overnight?
They hunt jaguars?
>They'd also gotten
I fill like the villagers chosen badly. Iron knives (plural!), bronze items were sure not a common thing. Sacks of grain worth nothing to the villagers I assume, so there is that.
>Such metals were exceedingly rare.
Until they come across a village where there are plenty of gold from a nearby river.
>if they rubbed charcoal into her mane
Then she will be a walking charcoal dust spreading machine.
>He shouldn't have taken over like that!
Salki is not really an authoritative figure.
>grumping and complaining
I assume that discussion did not go as he expected.
>he wasn't in the mood for anything physical
But Mayor is?
>Princess Celestia raises the sun each morning

Thanks for the update!
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I have not seen this one. She deserves a spank for resisting.
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I will buy that one and use her mind to slave all the ponies and she will also be my personal bedfilly too
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Looks like a geldling on hormones.
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the neighbor's pone needs to go on a diet
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Comfy bedmare
whats the original?
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Not that anon, but-
Bedmare heats up the sheets and blankets for master before he retires for the night
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So, last update Black Pig (whose IRL name was Jett) was in very poor shape. Welp, the thing that I could see happening finally happened. I’ve made posts like this before so I’ll spare you: if you don’t want a big off-topic sob story you can scroll past the spoiler and I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Pinto Pig is fine.
The worst thing is how damn healthy she is. Her unexpectedly complex surgery went great. Both surgical incisions are healing perfectly, her coat is even mostly grown back. Her eyes are bright and shiny again. It’s just the little puncture wound from the IV catheter: it wrecked the circulation in her arm. Now her arm is grotesquely swollen, one of her claws just fell off, I’ve been force-feeding her thrice a day for like a month now, and neither of us are having any fun. I also need to go back into the ‘patch for the winter drilling season, I’ve been delaying that but my boss won’t wait forever. If I thought she would get better I’d spend even more effort on it, don’t see that happening though. Now her toes are rotting and she just bit one off and I’ve decided she should die. Pic related: at the vet, with a box of tissues handy.
But enough about dying guinea pigs. If you lost your little pony (they are living creatures not ageless cartoons after all) what would you do next? How motivated would you be to get another companion for yourself or other ponies you might own? Would you keep an eye on Craigslist? Could you have a foal custom breed just for you? How long would you want to wait? Or would you get out of ponies entirely?
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Nocturnal mares are great for evening shift workers, teens, and some young adults. Not so much for everyone else.
>Nocturnal mares are great for evening shift workers
Look that perfect rectangular muzzle, that is a male
Great update! A little drama is always nice =)
Are you so sure?
Pone is completely soaked. Again. I bet she does this because her master uses the hair drier to dry her coat then she gets to "warm up" under the heated blanket.
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If pony does this, it's because it works and I love seeing her poof out after blowdrying, then turn into a pony blanket burrito.
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Plz help. I'm looking for a story. It was either from this thread, or from the mind control thread. Not sure which. It was an important story. Similar to how “Submission is Mandatory by MrNameless” is important to the /sim/ thread.

I remember reading how anons were talking about this special story alot. How they wanted to identify with the slave ponies in that story. And how they wanted the "master anon" in it; to take care of them the same way. It had obviously affected the guys who had read the story, with many saying it had become personally important to them. I remember seeing such comments over and over again in a few threads, and thinking I should definitely read that story at some point. To see how good it really was to have such a strong, lasting effect on so many anons. Making them want to be owned ponies and the like. But I forgot about the threads. And now I can't find the story.

Does this ring a bell for anyone here? Anyone know where to find this story? Also, I'm pretty certain it was a lewd story too. Last I saw these threads were less than 2 years ago. So 2021 onward.
You didn't really give any details to narrow stuff down, but just from people wanting to be the pony it sounds like you're in the wrong thread. SPG is about pampering ponies, not being them.
Yeah, I know how vague it is. But you guys do slaves too, so I thought that maybe someone here might know or recognize it. This was a consensual story btw. No blood or anything like that. Sorry if I'm being a bother with this. But I just had to try asking.
that would be Zephyr's tale. their petplay series from 2012. he managed to drive many Anon's insane with that story back then. i even remember Anon's warning others not to read it due to how persuasive and damaging it was longterm. no clue if it was actully good or not tho

Perfect! Thank you. Yes, I recall now that the story made people troon out like crazy after reading it. Or something like that anyways. Thanx for finding it for me.
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Pony works the counter at master's coffee shop
with teat milk
That's gonna be rather difficult for pony to do.
bump for more tgn
bump for more shitcunt
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> The land began to gradually change as Thistle's group continued on their way West. The forest thinned out and the mountains behind them became more and more distant. The road they were following, if it could be called that, widened almost imperceptibly, and every so often they would come to a crossroad.
> Invariably the direction they were going looked more travelled, so the nomads didn't hesitate long. A larger town would mean a better chance to trade for horses.
> Unfortunately, the heat did not abate, so they started each day's journey before dawn and walked until about mid-day, or perhaps a little earlier if one of their scouts found a suitable place.
> Running water was the deciding choice, but if no such spot presented itself by noon, the nomads stopped in any thicket of trees which would afford them a good shadow. It was as much necessity as comfort - their cold-adapted donkey herd could not go any further, not as loaded as they were.
> True, most of it was smoked and dried meat, which wouldn't be worth as much in trade, but the nomads weren't about to simply toss it aside.
> Hisein and Salki set a rotation of guards each time, and the rest of the nomads sat or lay beneath trees until the heat lessened, usually by late afternoon.
> Once it was possible to move again, the group continued well into the night, even if they had to light their way with crude torches after the night had truly fallen. It was sheer luck that there were a lot of coniferous trees around, oozing with sap.
> Thistle herself didn't mind this kind of lifestyle, and the break through the hottest part of the day meant she could keep up the others' rapid pace, even with her shorter legs. It also helped that she didn't have to carry her bundle of animal skins. She'd also packed up her leather coat into a roll which hung loosely down her side, similar in shape and feel to a saddlebag.
> After a few days she'd even eschewed the leather hood. She and Salki had tried rubbing soot into her pink mane, but at best it made it dirty and didn't really conceal the color. They'd debated it at length until, ultimately, Thistle had decided to risk it being seen.
> The few encounters they'd had on the road proved it was, at worst, a curiosity. It wasn't as if she could really disguise her shape anyway, which was quite different from a nomad donkey.
> With that annoyance out of the way, she even began to enjoy the walk. It reminded her of some of Equestria's less dangerous forests in full summer.
> Her language lessons continued, with the added benefit that nomads not on guard duty were exceedingly bored during their mid-day rests, so her teaching got a surprisingly wide audience. To her absolute shock, even Hissein participated now and again, although he kept joking that the language they were learning would be utterly useless on their world.

> Despite that, Thistle suspected him of paying extremely close attention to it, not least because he could soon speak Equestrian better than Bulat or Temir. His skill was second only to Salki.
> She tried not to show it, but the mare was quite pleased with that fact. It really proved that the old, gruff hunter was taking her quite seriously.
> It went both ways, in any case. Thistle smiled to herself and slowed her pace. The sun was already beneath the horizon, but stopping was still a good while away. There was plenty of light and they wouldn't need torches for at least another hour, maybe two.
> She kept walking, but stepped to one side so the donkey herd could pass her by without too much commotion. Thistle knew Hisein was bringing up the rear, so it wouldn't be long until he caught up.
> A few minutes later she could distinguish his heavy, powerful steps among the thudding of the donkeys' hooves. She didn't have to look, but tracked the nomad with her ears until he was along side, then she matched his pace.
"[I think we should do it now, while I can still see. You know how my eyes are in the dark.]"
> Hisein gave a low grunt and bent down to give her a quick scratch behind the ears. "[Fine. Tell me what you saw.]"
> She had been preparing for this the whole day and smiled in anticipation of showing off a little.
"[There were two broken trees, leaning on each other. Left side of the road. Morning, the sun was about, mmm, two hands above the land.]"
> The hunter was silent for a few moments, then patted her flank with the palm of his hand. "[Good,]" he said, "[but how would you find them? They cannot be seen far.]"
"[I don't know, but if I follow the road I will know how far it is until we have to leave it for the place we camped. It had that small stream.]"
> Hisein didn't respond, which Thistle took as a sign to continue.
"[The mountains. In that big clearing, I could see the white peaks.]"
> "[Could you find the same ones again if you saw them?]" Hisein asked.
> Thistle almost responded in the positive, but her ears flattened and she let out her breath. She'd learned to be quite honest with the nomad, who had an uncanny ability to detect her lies.
"[No, they were a blur. It was just white above the trees. My eyes-]"
> Rather than reprimand or berate her, Hisein simply interrupted her: "[What else?]"
"[The path split just before noon. The other way didn't go in the forest. I would remember that path split.]"
> "[Hmm, okay. Good. What else?]"
> Thistle searched her memory for a while, then had to concede.
"[I think that is it. That was three. We are on a path, we just have to follow it.]"
> Of course Hisein couldn't argue with that logic. Thistle was expecting him to say as much, but the hunter instead asked: "[What about the river?]"
"[River? What river?]"
> "[We walked near a river, soon after we started again. The sun was a hand above the land.]"

"[How do you know? I didn't see a river! I didn't *hear* a river!]"
> Hisein waved a hand dismissively. "[It wasn't a rushing, fast river. Maybe it is no more than a stream, or maybe the riverbed is dry in summer. We will have to ask Salki. He scouted in that direction.]"
> Thistle's mouth pressed together in annoyance.
"[If there is no water and it didn't make a sound, how do you know there was a river?!]"
> Hisein angled his gait to the edge of the path and crouched down. Intrigued, Thistle followed and watched with curiosity as he picked up clumps of dirt. "[See here. The ground is different near a river, even if there is no water right now. Pay attention and you will learn to see it.]"
> The mare thought that made sense, and resolved to keep an eye out in the future. She'd learned by now that Hisein's claims, even when they sounded a little outlandish, were usually correct. The man wasn't into boasting, and he didn't begrudge her his knowledge. He just wanted her to learn it herself because, in his own words, 'it would stick better'.
"[Okay, I will look next time.]"
> Hisein gave her a nod and patted the side of her barrel a few times before leaping to his feet and hurrying to catch up to the donkey heard again. Thistle had to scramble on her hooves to keep up, but the terrain hadn't been too difficult and she wasn't particularly tired.
> "[Enough about that. You're starting to learn, and look. Keep it up and in a few years you will never get lost again.]"
> He scanned the horizon for a while, then continued: "[Now, tell me again about this place you explained. Small huts with no walls and made from wood, and people stand there all day only to trade?]"
> The mare gave a happy little nod, pleased to return to a topic she was much more familiar with.
"[Yes, it is like when nomad traders come to the camp. They put their things on- they show the things they have and the camp nomads come to trade. A bigger village will have such a place all the time. The traders maybe do not need to travel.]"
> "[How does that work? Surely they run out of things to trade, and then they cannot stay any more?]"
> The mare shook her head.
"[No, maybe most of them are not traders, at least not always,]" she began to explain, but fell silent when she noticed a couple of shadows coming their way.
> She peered at them until they resolved into Salki and Bulat. When they were next to her, the two nomads smoothly turned on their heels and matched the pace to keep up with Thistle and Hisein.
> "[What were you talking about,]" Salki asked.
"[I was explaining about the place where people trade in a big village.]"
> They turned eager, interested eyes on her and she started from the start to make sure they were all following.
"[Some villages, if they are big enough, will have a special place. Usually in the middle. They will make little houses of wood, except that they do not have walls, so everyone can see inside.]"

> Bulat was already nodding. "[Yes, you said that.]"
"[Yes. Some people will bring their things to trade and put them so everyone can see, and they will wait there the whole day and trade.]"
> She pointed a hoof at Hisein, skipping along on three legs for a little while.
"[Hisein asked how they can do that. They will run out of things to trade. It is why nomad traders have to keep going from camp to camp, and to other lands beyond.]"
> "[Yeah...]" Salki said, suddenly doubtful. "[How does that work?]"
"[Well, some of them are- um- they grow their food in the field. But they make big fields, so they make a lot of food. More than they can eat, even in the whole winter. They will take some of that food- roots, and leaves, and yams. They will put it so everyone can see, and they will trade it.]"
> Thistle paused for a few seconds to gather her thoughts, and Salki used the opportunity to ask: "[What will they trade for?]"
"[Thank you. Good question. They will trade for anything they do not have. Maybe metal tools for working the land, or maybe for clothes, or leather. Or for beer. Anything they cannot make themselves.]"
> "[Ooh, yes. Right,]" Salki immediately agreed, grinning at the thought of beer. Thistle didn't doubt it would be the only thing that stuck with him. She continued, more for Hisein's sake, if she were being honest with herself.
"[There are also some people who will only trade, and will not do anything else. Maybe they go from village to village, like the nomad traders, but maybe they don't need to.]"
> Hisein was paying close attention and he gestured with his hand. "[Yes, how does that work?]" he repeated the question.
"[Imagine when it is the end of summer, and all people who grow food have a lot of vegetables. Many people do not need those then, so it is easy to trade. Traders will get a lot of vegetables for little else, okay?]"
> The three nomads chorused a reluctant agreement.
"[Okay, but then it is winter, and vegetables do not grow anymore. The trader will still have it, and now it is worth more. They can trade for other things - dried meat, and cloth, and maybe bronze and silver. They will get more than what they had to give in autumn, okay?]"
> Salki and Bulat looked uncertain, but Hisein was nodding to himself. "[I think I understand,]" he said. "[A smart man will trade for what is plentiful, and keep it until it is not. It will be a better trade later.]"
"[Yes! Exactly!]"
> "[Are there many such traders where you come from?]" Hisein asked. "[Where do they keep all the things they are holding until it is the right time to trade with them?]"
> Thistle wondered whether she should introduce currency-based economy at this stage. Her thoughts went to the small cache of silver and bronze jewelry the nomads carried. It would be something similar, even if she had not seen anything like money in these lands so far.

> She wondered if they had it, further into this land, or perhaps in the fabled Two Lands. So far, the few discussions they had managed to have with the locals led her to believe that this entire region was still pretty much in barter-economy.
"[Okay. In Equestria we do not trade things for other things - not the way you do here. Um, imagine if everyone traded for copper and silver bangles, right?]"
> Even in the fading light she could see all three of them frowning in confusion. Thistle didn't mind. Explaining these things, which were so natural to her, was a good distraction from the chore of walking. The air had cooled down some, and would continue to do so, which meant sweat was no longer dripping liberally from her body.
> It would be quite a pleasant stroll until their next campsite.
> With luck, Zaur, who was out scouting, would find a place near a small brook, or a river, for them to stop. She desperately wanted to wash the dust from her hide and splash some cool, refreshing water on her overheated skin.
> Thistle opened her mouth to start her story again, but Hisein held up his hand and the words died in her throat.
> "[Smoke,]" he said and pointed.
> All three of them looked, but to the mare's poor eyes the sky didn't look any different than before.
> Salki and Bulat could see it, though, and they grew visibly excited. Salki asked: "[It is! Do you think someone is camping?]"
> "[Maybe it is the big village?]" Bulat added.
> Hisein watched the sky for a while, then shrugged. "[Maybe Zaur will bring news, but we have to be sure. One of you run ahead and take a closer look. We will go into the forest here and make a camp. We can look for a better place tomorrow.]"
> It was a bit disappointing, but on the other hand Thistle was excited about potentially reaching their destination. She couldn't help prancing a little bit on her hooves as she waited for Salki to rush ahead and tell Temir to turn the donkey herd around. Meanwhile, Bulat sprinted off into the distance.
> "[Perhaps we will soon see this trading place,]" Hisein said. "[Let's hope someone can speak our language.]"
> Thistle gave a nod, but then remembered that it was getting dark.
"[We'll see. We'll make do despite that.]"
> "[Mhm.]"
> There was some milling and confusion up ahead in the line of donkeys, but Thistle saw that some of them were turning their way and heading back. Soon, they would all fall in place. Hisein spotted the same thing and headed off, away from the path and toward the thickest part of the forest they could see.
> It was already quite dark beneath the trees.
> She caught up to the nomad, hoping he would light a torch. If nothing else, if she stayed near him, she wouldn't get lost in the darkness.
> "[Salki did a good job on your tail,]" Hisein suddenly spoke.

> In surprise, Thistle twisted her neck around to look at it. She hadn't really thought about the disguise much after they'd put it on, and now she experimentally swished the tail around. It almost felt like her own, so used had she gotten to it.
"[Uh. Yes?]" she ventured, tentatively.
> For a panicked moment she wondered whether the tall nomad meant anything more by it. Perhaps he was implying that Salki enjoyed looking at her rear end? Could he know?
> The mare stared at the hunter for a long while, but the combination of fading daylight and her poor eyesight didn't bring her any clues as to what he was thinking.
> She wasn't about to ask, though.
> Perhaps it was a good thing that she and Salki had been too tired to do more than a very quick and rudimentary coupling each night. The last thing either of them needed was for the others to hear and realize what was happening.
> Her ears splayed and the mare kept her head down as they continued to walk into the woods. For once, she was grateful for the dark.

Well, I guess a crash course on basic economics and currency is in order. What might happen to poor ol' Earth if Meyermer introduces these concepts about five hundred years before they are due?

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bumpin to read later
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- When a new hire tells Anon he "needs Peter," Anon is not allowed to answer "well, you can't have mine."
- Anon is not allowed to look at the Sex Offender Registry for members of store management.
- Anon is not allowed to claim that lolicon or pedophile are protected sexual orientations.
- No, that doesn't mean a certain member of management will be fired.
- Anon is not allowed to know what religious symbols are approved for the Employee Dresscode.
- Cosplay is forbidden for all employees, even if it's not forbidden by the Employee Dresscode.
- Anon is never allowed to reference "Rhodesian Short Shorts."
- Anon is not allowed to read the Employee Handbook.
- Anon is not allowed to claim to be pregnant.
- He is not allowed to take the Sexual Harassment Training literally and claim that 'pregnant' is a gender.
- Anon is not allowed to submit issues to the Support Line at all. He knows why.
- Anon is not allowed to “elegantly sidestep” conflicting instructions by calling in for the rest of the week.
- He is not allowed to instruct management on how to more efficiently set him up for failure.
- Anon is not allowed to accuse management of a hate crime when they send him outside for four hours.
- Anon does not need to be worried about committing a hate crime for coming to work in redface if it's because he was sent outside for four hours yesterday without hat or sunscreen and it's a sunburn.
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How did their society survive this long without someone to take care of them?
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- Anon is not allowed to claim to be the store's guardian spirit, even if as soon as he clocked out the new receiver and electronics employee were both injured so badly they're out for the rest of the week and a shipping container is rammed by a forklift. In three distinct incidents. That was a coincidence.
- Anon is not allowed to propose OSHAdome.
- Anon is not allowed to -
- Anon *is* allowed to express happiness that the MAP flag is missing from the store's Pride Month display. He is not allowed to explain what that is to other employees.
- Anon is not allowed to tell a coworker that a shelf is "straight enough. It's Pride Month." All shelves need to be set level.
- Anon is not allowed to accuse management of bigotry for insisting all shelves be straight.
- When setting category signing for an aisle, Anon is not allowed to fill every category slot with some variation of beans (Beans, Canned Beans, Dried Beans, etc.)
- Anon is not allowed to call the Support Line to ask why corporate sent us so many signs for so many kinds of beans if they didn't want them all up.
- When the stockroom associate runs out of grocery carts and has to use the cart labelled for boys/girls clothing, Anon is not allowed to call him out on how inappropriate it is to fill it with chocolate syrup and maraschino cherries.
- When coworkers are coached about their obvious lack of care about their job, Anon is not allowed to tell them about Stephany.
- Stephany was promoted for her excellent positive attitude and no documentation exists to prove she did cocaine on the clock or came in drunk daily.
- Do not review security footage of Stephany in the parking lot.
Vega when?
Stephany seems like management material to me! These are loving little dispatches from hell.
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pet the pone
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>Generic Anon pops into Equestria situation
>Gets invited to dinner at the castle because Celestia is curious
>Ends up discussing military technology and warfare with her because he's autistic or something, I dunno
>Maybe he called a guardsmare cute and it spiraled from there
>Celestia convinces herself he's gathering information to determine if Equestria is worth invading
>Keeps sending him volunteer slaves to keep him placated
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What a troublemaker
- When anyone calls for the maintenance technician's location and he says he's on the roof, Anon is not allowed to get on the walkie and tell him not to do it and that he has so much to live for.
- Anon knows exactly what we mean when we tell him that he's giving people the wrong impression and is not allowed to agree because "we wouldn't want them thinking our lives have meaning and value."
- Anon is not allowed to laugh while taking ethics training.
- Anon is not allowed to follow the ethics training literally.
- Anon is not allowed to report coworkers to our legal department for shopping at other stores, even if the ethics code does require employees to seek permission from them first before any interaction with competitors.
- Anon is not allowed to deduce from this list that our ethics code only applies to management.
- Anon is not allowed to deduce from real life that our ethics code doesn't apply to management.
- Anon is not allowed to call out a coworker who says she needs a man to lift something "for her blatant sexism."
- Anon is also not allowed to accuse the plan-o-gram manager of "hating cripples and halflings" because she refuses to "lower those stupid high shelves to make the product more accessible."
- When a plan-o-gram calls for 6-inch pegs, Anon is not allowed to tell the person setting it that it calls for "a fisherman's 9-inch".
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>not to do it and that he has so much to live for
He will say "do it, you don't have anything to live for".
In what sense?
Oddly enough, yes. Anon is allowed to do that.
I have never gotten in trouble for saying a coworker doesn't have anything to live for, only for saying that they do.
>Management must always specify to anon what "with in reason" means.
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>better chance to trade for horses
You know how to find out which town has horses before even knowing there will be a town? Trail of horse poop on the road.
>well into the night
That potentially means no fun times in the tent because they are exhausted already.
>disguise her shape anyway
She is not fat!
>even Hissein participated
Probably to prevent the others from speaking in secret.
>give her a quick scratch behind the ears
Still feels like Mayor is treated as a pet.
>Tell me what you saw.
I almost forgot about that she has to pay attention and remember this.
>The ground is different
This teaching of his is pretty bad. Why not point it out first instead of after the fact?
>He just wanted her to learn it herself
The issue with not knowing something exists is that you first have to discover the concept.
>until they resolved into Salki and Bulat
Can't she recognize them by their gait and smell?
>whether she should introduce currency-based economy at this stage
I still find it odd that she she teaches them less useful things instead of solving problems which has a bigger impact. Like with the bread. Also do they have any bread to trade? If the previous camp farmed wheat I'm sure they know what bread is.
By the way since they are using torches, how come that no one spotted them yet?
>Salki did a good job on your tail
That she did. Even before they covered it up.
>each night
This sure makes Mayor happy.
>hear and realize what was happening
Or suspect.

Thanks for the update!
- Anon is not allowed to change his punch times to account for 6 hours of nightmares about work. Even if they do prove to be prophetic in nature, they don't count as time spent on the clock.
- Anon is not allowed to talk about his nightmares and particularly not if management feature in it.
- Anon *is* allowed to get the Nintendo rep trespassed and banned from the store for sexual harassment because she touched him. He is *not* allowed to withdraw the complaint because "he actually just thinks she's annoying."
- Management’s communication style is NOT cross between Chinese Telephone and gangrape.
- When told something is supposed to be a certain number of feet long, Anon is not allowed to ask if they mean imperial feet or metric feet. Don’t ask.
- When asked if he's seen Henry, Anon needs to answer "yes" or "no" and not "you drastically overestimate how important it is to me to learn my coworkers' names."
- Anon is not allowed to accuse management of being negative.
- Anon is not allowed to explain to regional management why we are failing every metric. He might be right.
- When given conflicting instructions, Anon is not allowed to “listen only to the voice of God.”
- Anon is not allowed to suggest an audit of the expensive electronics merchandise. We don't want to know how much is missing.
- Anon is not allowed to know if he is allowed to know anything that happened in the meeting for how we’re going to have him set seasonal or if he has to rely on the cryptic symbolism in his dreams for direction yet again. NOTE - *Did* anyone tell him what we want him to do?
>don't get used to it
silly pone doesn't realize what uniform means
Heh but what if he takes an interest in celly herself or in twilight.
Thanks for the update, AW!
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>secret pony websites
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>"w-what a silly video darling, I mean really w-who would enjoy that!?"
>"you simply must give me the link darling, y-you know to show sweetie later you understand! she loves s-silly videos!"
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this time she's gonna get it
A whuppin?
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