UNTITLED (Pony OC) by TempTrip


                                            [Copied from https://pastebin.com/ixqFXXTq


                                            >from the time you were little, you were always told this day would come

                                            >what a joyous occassion!

                                            >the day you finally meet your new master

                                            >a slave can know no greater joy than to be taken in by their very own master for the rest of their lives

                                            >when you are finally purchased, it means you are wanted. You have a purpose, a place in the world - your life now has meaning

                                            >it's been barely a month since you reached adulthood, and you've already been snatched up by an eager buyer

                                            >some of the other young mares and stallions are even jealous, as they've been waiting several months to be bought

                                            >all the brood mares have gathered, as is tradition, for your big sendoff

                                            >it's sort of bittersweet that you never knew which of them was your mother

                                            >but, you know it's better this way

                                            >the humans know what's best, and you trust they have good reasons for your communal upbringing

                                            >just about all of the older mares assembled here had taken turns nursing you as a filly

                                            >and you're also surrounded by dozens of your "siblings" - foals, adolescents, and even other young adults, some of whom will also have their special day soon enough

                                            >your favorite trainer is here too, and he brought you a cake

                                            >a rare treat, which you make sure to take your time to savor

                                            >after spending time socializing and hugging, nuzzling, saying your goodbyes, his voice cuts through the chatter and everyone falls silent, as expected when a human is speaking

                                            >he tells you they'll be here within the hour to get you

                                            >you rear up on your hind legs and hug him around his waist, accidentally knocking his whip from his side, and he chuckles at your momentary lapse in discipline

                                            >that sort of unfettered affection would usually earn you a reprimand, but he always tended to let it slide more often than not

                                            >you pick the implement up in your mouth and place it in his hand, blushing

                                            >regardless of your mostly spotless disciplinary record, any of the other trainers might have given you a little pop on the rump for not controlling yourself better

                                            >but it's been at least a year since any of your trainers have had to use a whip on you

                                            "My deepest apologies, sir" you grin sheepishly, "it's just... if I may speak openly?"

                                            >"You may."

                                            "I'm going to miss you, sir."

                                            >He pats you on the head

                                            >"You'll see me again. Twice a year for your bi-annual evaluations, remember?"

                                            >you nod

                                            "Yes, sir."

                                            >when you feel his hand shift its position you sigh and your smile widens, plopping down on your rump and uncontrollably kicking a hind hoof on the ground as he starts to scritch your ear in your favorite spot

                                            "You're a good girl, 847, you're going to make your master very happy. We're all very proud of you here."

                                            >"Yes, sir, thank you sir!"

                                            >your heart is aflutter, as it always is when a human gives you a compliment, and you can't help but to give a satisfied little flick of your tail

                                            >he gives you the hand gesture to rise to your hooves, which you do without missing a beat

                                            >as you stand up he reaches around and brushes some dust and dirt off your rump and tail dock

                                            >moments later he turns his head when he hears an engine, seeing a large black truck approach the main security gates

                                            >with a whistle and a couple more hand gestures, the rest of the assembled ponies quickly form a set of parallel lines facing each other, forming a living corridor

                                            >the trainer snaps his fingers and you come to heel, raising your head proudly as your steps match his in perfect sync

                                            >as you make your exit, the ponies on either side of you bow their heads in respect, saying their final silent goodbyes

                                            >there are no tears, neither from you nor them

                                            >to cry would be disrespectful, ungrateful even

                                            >though you feel your heart start to climb into your throat

                                            >you're anxious to meet your new master

                                            >to finally have a home

                                            >and maybe even a name, should your master desire to give you one

                                            >the truck rolls up to a stop in the parking area, and your trainer softly closes his fingers into a fist at his side, prompting you to instantly halt and stand in place

                                            >you see an elderly couple get out of the vehicle, and they smile and shake the trainer's hand

                                            >you can't make out what they're saying, but it's not your place to eavesdrop on your betters

                                            >you wait patiently until the three approach you, the older man placing a leather collar around your neck and snapping a leash to it, giving it a gentle tug

                                            >you look back over your shoulder one last time as you're led away, and for the slightest moment the smile on your face falters, as it hits you all at once that you're leaving everything you've ever known behind

                                            >you know better than to let it show, but you feel the slightest sick feeling in the pit of your stomach - all the training in the world couldn't have prepared you for the reality of this moment

                                            >the old woman holds you in her lap, gently stroking your back on the ride to your new home

                                            >your ears twitch and turn, your head tilts at all the strange sights you pass as you look out the window

                                            >you've seen some of this stuff on television during your slave education classes, but this is the first time you're experiencing the outside world personally

                                            >it's marvellous, and terrifying

                                            >"So, little pony," the old man says as he looks over to you briefly with a warm smile, "what's your name? Your papers just have a number."

                                            "I don't have a name, that is for you to decide, should you choose to gift me with one, master."

                                            >he gives a hearty laugh and pats your head before turning his attention back to the steering wheel and the road in front of him

                                            >"No need for the formalities, girl, I'm not your master!" he chuckles

                                            >you give him a confused look for several moments before he speaks again

                                            >"You'll meet your real master soon."

                                            >the woman ties a large bow into your mane before adjusting the collar around your neck

                                            >"You're just the cutest little thing," she says, giving you a good squeeze and kissing your mane, "Anon is just going to love you to bits!"

                                            >you tilt your head up at her curiously

                                            "Anon?"

                                            >"He's our grandson, dear - and your new master! You're his birthday present!"

                                            >you smile and your eyes start to water ever so slightly

                                            "Y...you mean I'm a gift, ma'am?"

                                            >"I hope that doesn't trouble you too badly, sweetie, Anon has a heart of gold - he's going to take excellent care of you."

                                            "No ma'am, no trouble at all, I'm just," you hesitate, searching for the right words, "I'm flattered you chose me for your grandson."

                                            >"Well, you were highly recommended to us by your trainer. He's sold us a couple other ponies over the years, and they've always turned out to be the most wonderfully loyal and obedient companions we could have hoped for. When he told us about you, we just knew we had to snatch you up before anyone else had a chance to. There's no doubt in my mind you're worth ever penny we paid for you, probably many times over."

                                            >your ears lay flat against your head and you look away with an intense blush

                                            >you've always just done what you're supposed to do - serve and obey

                                            >you never felt like you deserved this kind of praise

                                            >that doesn't mean it doesn't feel amazing when it's offered to you

                                            >when you arrive, the old man gets out of the truck, telling you and his wife to wait here

                                            >he's gone for quite a while, and you can't help but to overhear a bit of shouting, which concerns you

                                            >"...well he's MY grandson, and if I wanna get my grandson a gift I'm gonna do it, damn you! We'll buy her food and pay for her medical care if we have to, but you're not going to dare take this away from him, we've been planning it for months! Besides, what the hell did YOU get him? Another worthless fucking tie and pair of socks? The boy's nine for christsake, let him be a kid!"

                                            >Moments later, another man storms out of the house toward a fancy looking red car and drives off angrily

                                            >the woman strokes you with a sigh, shaking her head as she opens the door and gently motions you to jump out, calling toward the house

                                            >"Anon, sweetie, come on outside! Come see what me and pawpaw got you for your birthday!"

                                            >a smaller human emerges from the door, wide-eyed with awe as he slowly approaches you

                                            >"Wow... you guys really did it, huh? You got me a pony..."

                                            >he reaches toward you hesitantly, his eyes level with yours, and you take the initiative to nuzzle his hand

                                            >he jumps at your sudden movement, before relaxing and petting you, a smile slowly growing across his face

                                            >out of nowhere he bursts into tears, throwing his arms around you and crying into your neck, squeezing you so tight you have trouble breathing

                                            >"My own pony! My VERY OWN pony! Oh, she's perfect, she's just perfect! I love her!"

                                            >he runs up to his grandparents and embraces them enthusiastically, nearly knocking them over

                                            >his grandfather hands him the few accessories that came with you - your official papers and the training manual they gave him detailing all the commands you've been taught - as well as a handler's whip - as his grandmother hands over your leash to him

                                            >"A pony is a very big responsibility, Anon, but I know you can handle it. She's going to depend on you to take good care of her, okay? Treat her right and you'll have a best friend for life."

                                            >"I will, pawpaw, I will, thank you thank you THANK you!" he cries

                                            >"Remember Anon, she's YOUR pony, okay? Nobody can tell you what to do with her," he glares at an annoyed looking woman standing in the doorway of the house, "and I mean nobody."

                                            >the three share one final embrace before the couple drives away

                                            >Anon can't seem to stop hugging you and crying

                                            >you nicker softly as you press your chin into his back and shoulder, every fiber of your being screaming out to comfort him

                                            >the woman standing in the doorway lets out a loud, exaggerated sigh

                                            >"Anon, I don't want that thing on your bed, understand? And she's to stay in the back yard when you're not home."

                                            >"Okay mom..." he says flatly before she slams the door shut

                                            >Anon turns his attention back to you, and you simply look at him expectantly, awaiting your first command

                                            >"Can you talk?"

                                            "Yes, Master," you nod in reply.

                                            >he squeals with delight

                                            >"That's so cool! Mamaw and Papaw's ponies were always friendly to me, but they never talked. I want you to talk as much as you want, okay?"

                                            "Yes, Master."

                                            >"Hey, you wanna go for a walk? I can't wait to show you to all my friends!"

                                            "I'd love to, Master" you reply warmly

                                            >as far as masters go, you seem to have hit the jackpot

                                            >this little boy adores you already and he's only known you for ten minutes

                                            >you walk in sync with his steps at his side as he buries his face in the training manual, the whip hanging limply from a strap around his wrist

                                            >he closes his palm into a fist, emulating one of your many well-known hand signals, causing you to stop immediately and stand perfectly still

                                            >Anon practically erupts as he excitedly pets you and rustles his fingers through your mane wildly

                                            >"Good girl, GOOD girl!"

                                            >you've never seen anyone so excited by your following such a simple command before in your life

                                            >the feeling it gives you is hard to put into words

                                            >anon keeps reading for several moments before issuing his next command, flattening his palm out in front of him and slowly lowering his arm at the elbow, barely able to contain his giddiness as you slowly sit on your rump in perfect unison with the motion of his arm

                                            >he reads a bit more, holding the book in his free hand, before pointing his finger toward the ground, which you respond to by lying down on the ground with your forelegs crossed in front of you, staring up at him obediently

                                            >in his excitement he accidentally gives you the signal for "up" and you jump to your hooves, startling him and causing him to fall backwards

                                            >"OOF"

                                            >he instinctively grabs his elbow, looking down at it where a nasty scrape is starting to bleed, then up at you

                                            >"HEY, why'd you do that?"

                                            >he takes the handle of the whip into his grip and reflexively swats you across the chest with it

                                            >it stings, but you remain perfectly still

                                            "I'm sorry master... you ordered me to stand up..."

                                            >"What?"

                                            "Your hand, master, you gave the signal to stand... I was just trying to obey you..."

                                            >his demeanor instantly changes and he lets go of the whip

                                            >"Oh... I'm sorry, girl... I... I hit you..."

                                            "That's your right, master."

                                            >"Did it... did it hurt?"

                                            "A little bit."

                                            >"I'm sorry girl... I'm so sorry... can you forgive me?"

                                            >you tilt your head at him in confusion

                                            "Forgive you? That's not my place, master. Your judgement is the law by which I live. You don't owe me any apologies."

                                            >"But I do. I know what it's like to-"

                                            >he hesitates for several moments, wiping away tears from his eyes

                                            >"For someone to hurt you..."

                                            >he lets out a frustrated, angry yell and flings the whip as hard as he can away from you into a neighbor's yard before wrapping his arms around you again

                                            >"I won't do that again, okay girl? I won't hurt you. Please don't be afraid of me... don't hate me..."

                                            >he's nearly hysterical, sobbing loudly and shaking as he stains your fur with his tears

                                            "Don't cry, master," you say, lifting a hoof and placing it around his back, pulling him closer to you as you press your chin down against his shoulder gently

                                            >far be it for you to judge, but he seems to be overreacting quite a bit to such a simple and relatively benign punishment

                                            >you've felt the sting of the lash before, and while unpleasant it's not like it's the end of the world

                                            >Anon doesn't seem to realize that though

                                            >it takes him several minutes to finally calm down and for his shaking to subside

                                            >you badly want to ask him what's bothering him so much, but you fear that would be out of line, so you simply stand in silence and comfort him as best as you can

                                            >he's rather quiet for the rest of your walk, studying your training manual intensely, and seems to have forgotten all about showing you off to his friends

                                            >"You didn't mean to hurt me, it was my own stupid fault for not knowing your commands," he grumbles as he reads, "I won't let that happen again"

                                            >when you finally return to the house nearly an hour later, the red car is back in the driveway, and Anon seems hesitant to enter the house

                                            >he slowly lifts his hand to turn the doorknob, and you can see him beginning to shake again

                                            >he very cautiously and quietly enters the house, motioning for you to be as quiet as possible as well

                                            >"ANON!" a gruff voice calls out

                                            >the angry man from before rapidly approaches you and snatches your leash away from Anon

                                            >"get upstairs and do your fucking homework, you know better than to leave the house before it's done..."

                                            >"sorry dad..."

                                            >Anon visibly winces and shrinks away slightly as his dad looms over him and points toward the stairs

                                            >"don't 'sorry dad' me, get up there and get it done," he pulls up hard on your leash, tightening the collar around your neck so tight it's hard to breathe, dragging you behind him into the kitchen before tying off your leash to a table leg with barely an inch of slack to spare

                                            >"after you do that and clean the bathroom you can play with your new toy"

                                            >"dad, you're hurting her..." Anon takes a step toward you, but quickly retreats when his father clenches his fist

                                            >you spend the next 45 minutes like that, tied so tight you can't lay or sit down, barely able to move your head, the tightness in your collar and stench of cigarette smoke filling the living room and kitchen making every breath uncomfortable, watching Anon's dad take gulp after gulp of something in brown bottles, adding the empty ones to a pile around him

                                            >Anon finally appears at the bottom of the stairs with papers in his hand, taking them over to his father

                                            >"I'm done with my homework, can I please untie my pony now?"

                                            >he scrutinizes Anon's work carefully

                                            >"you only did half of these math problems..."

                                            >"we were only assigned the even ones..."

                                            >he shoves the papers back into Anon's hand

                                            >"don't sass me boy, get back up there and finish the rest of them, and don't come back until you do"

                                            >Anon lets out a frustrated sigh, shooting a defeated and sympathetic glance in your direction before stomping back up the stairs

                                            >another hour later and he returns, once again handing over his work to his father for inspection

                                            >he looks it over painfully slowly

                                            >"there, see, was that so hard?" he says before handing them back to Anon, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray as he stands up and walks into the kitchen, untying you and placing your leash in Anon's hand

                                            >"take her outside, see if she has to piss, she goes in the floor it'll be YOUR nose getting rubbed in it, got it?"

                                            >anon groans and rolls his eyes as he gently tugs on your leash, speaking softly to you

                                            >"come on girl, let's go outside"

                                            >you follow behind him as he leads you into the back yard

                                            >it's much more spacious than you thought it would be

                                            >nearly a half acre surrounded by a privacy fence

                                            >Anon unsnaps the leash from your collar and sits on the top stair of the back porch, folding his arms over his knees with a sigh

                                            >"go on girl, go potty"

                                            >you hesitate, taking a few steps out into the yard before looking back over your shoulder at him

                                            >"well, what are you waiting for? go..."

                                            "I know how to use a toilet, master" you offer meekly

                                            >"I don't think dad would like that...”

                                            >you trot further out into the yard, finding a semi-private spot behind a tree and some bushes to relieve yourself before returning to Anon's side

                                            >his face is in his lap, and he lets out a long sigh as he slowly looks up at you and places his hand on your forehead

                                            >"I still don't know your name."

                                            "I don't have one yet, master. Just a number, the stable doesn't give us names, they leave that up to our masters."

                                            >"Oh..."

                                            >he looks you over for several moments in silence

                                            >"um... I'm not good at names"

                                            "There's no rush, master, I'll respond to whatever you want to call me in the mean time"

                                            >he smiles at you and rubs your ear

                                            >your faltering expression and trembling legs give it away pretty quickly that you like that a lot

                                            >in no time he's zeroed in on your favorite spot, causing you to, as always, plop down on your rump with a hind leg thumping the ground once again

                                            >anon lets out a loud laugh as your eyes start to roll back in your head and your tongue dangles out from the side of your mouth

                                            >"I didn't know ponies liked having their ears scratched so much"

                                            >you shake your head and regain a bit of your composure, trying to hide your blush

                                            "N...not all of us do, master, some of us are just sensitive there. That felt really nice, thank you."

                                            >Anon starts to untie the gift bow from your mane and sets it aside

                                            >he jumps, startled once again by his father's sudden voice

                                            >"ANON, your grandpa's here, come see what he wants"

                                            >Anon leaves you alone in the back yard for several minutes, and you take the opportunity to explore a little bit before settling down in a shady patch of grass

                                            >Anon returns with his arms full of a huge bunch of hay almost bigger than himself which he throws down on the ground in front of you

                                            >"grandpa brought a few bales of hay and a bag of pony feed, are you hungry?"

                                            >you simply nod

                                            >"go on, eat!"

                                            >he disappears into the house once again as you casually begin munching on the hay in front of you, still laying on your belly in the cool grass

                                            >he returns with a wagon, the 50 lb bag of feed being too much for him to simply carry, which he struggles to get down the back stairs

                                            >he tears the bag open and scoops out some feed into a bowl, sitting it within easy reach of your muzzle

                                            >"I don't know how much you're supposed to eat, just tell me if you're still hungry and I'll put more feed in your bowl okay?"

                                            "Thank you master, this should be plenty"

                                            >Anon proceeds to flop down onto his belly in the grass in front of you, idly humming and kicking his legs while he watches you eat

                                            >"How much did you cost?"

                                            "I'm not sure what my purchase price was, master, but it might be on my papers."

                                            >"I bet you're worth a million dollars!" he gushes

                                            >you blush once again as you continue eating your meal

                                            >you continue contently munching on your hay, and Anon scoots closer to you, eventually resting his head on your side and snuggling into you, using you as a big pony pillow

                                            >this isn't exactly how you pictured your first day with your new master going, but you don't have any complaints

                                            >before you realize it Anon is fast asleep

                                            >you take the opportunity to rest your head after munching the few stray strands of hay left on the ground in front of you

                                            >it's not long before you're fast asleep as well

                                            >when you finally wake up, it's getting dark out

                                            >Anon is nowhere to be found

                                            >you stand up and shake yourself off, stretching and yawning before calling out for him

                                            "Master? Are you out here?"

                                            >you're met instead with Anon's mother opening the back door to let you in

                                            >"He's upstairs in his room. Stay off the bed, I won't tell you twice."

                                            >you make your way up the stairs and hear sniffling

                                            >it's Anon's voice

                                            >you find the door from which the sound is emanating and gently push it open with your muzzle before stepping inside

                                            >"Master?"

                                            >he's not wearing his shirt, and as you approach him you can see 5 big rectangular shaped welts on his back and upper arm

                                            >you let out a small gasp

                                            >"Master, are you okay?"

                                            >he simply shakes his head "no"

                                            >"dad saw my last science test... I tried to hide it from him but he found it..."

                                            "I don't understand, master..."

                                            >he blows his nose and tries to wipe away the tears, which are still freely flowing, from his eyes

                                            >"I got a B minus"

                                            >you have no idea what that means, but you assume it must be bad

                                            >it doesn't take a genius to figure out where the welts came from

                                            >you had no idea humans actually did that to other humans, you thought those kinds of punishments were only for ponies

                                            "Oh master... are you hurt?"

                                            >he nods silently, sitting up on the edge of his bed

                                            >you place your head and a hoof in his lap, wishing there was something you could do

                                            >you've comforted other ponies after some pretty harsh punishments before, but - in your eyes at least - they had almost always done something to deserve it, and the punishment served a purpose - to deter them from repeating their behavior in the future

                                            >it usually worked too, there weren't many repeat offenders at the stable

                                            >but you can't, for the life of you, figure out what Anon might have done to deserve this