The Notnilk Prophecy

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RND authorizes Sir Jeff's Ponygirls to feature

The Notnilk Prophecy part 2 Pony Irene

The following is from a larger work that clearly establishes the story as total fantasy, and general theme as consenting adult behavior. Any valid review for censorship purposes must peruse the whole work! Although random excerpts may appear to show non-consenting themes, within the context of the larger work-of-fiction, such situations are presented only as dreams by consenting adult characters. The complete work is entirely make-believe, however, and should not be viewed as bearing malice toward any person, gender, race, or institution. Resemblance to any real persons or institutions is coincidental. All characters in this work-of-fiction are "Adults".

If you are under 21 years of age, or if such material is illegal in your community:

DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!

If you are offended by "adult" themes, non-consenting themes, B&D, S&M, or make-believe situations that would be inappropriate in real-life:

DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!

If you cannot separate fantasy from reality, or can't control your conduct:

DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!

GO GET SOME HELP!

and,...

DON'T READ ANY MAIN-STREAM FICTION;

DON'T WATCH TELEVISION,...

and especially,...

NO ROAD-RUNNER CARTOONS!

For those into this genre of fiction,...

ENJOY!

( p.s. special thanks to Sir Jeff for demonstrating how fab the web can be )

-12-

It'd taken several whacks of fluidian to quiet the pony. A duet aslant her soles; ditto for each wiggly tit; three whistling uppercuts to the privates.

And of course, they'd been wholly effective.

Suzanne once again held steadfastly still --- tears rolling; bloated jowls trembling; stifled sobs making her girlish parts joggle.

"Now,... let's try this again. Ok horsy?"

Tristin's voice was condescending, as she tapped a straight-razor against Suzanne's nose.

Suzanne responded oh-so charmingly --- eyes crossing --- scrutinizing the instrument that would make her bald; titties aggitated; nipple-bells too.

jingle! jangle! jingle! jangle! jingle! jangle! jingle! jangle! jingle! jangle! jangle! jingle! jangle!

"Like I said, horsy, we're going to shave you shiny, whether you cooperate or not! Holding still is going to be your best friend!"

Suzanne's scalp was covered with foamy lather. Or at least the top was. Donald and Tristin had already shaved around her ears and neck. Those areas were utterly smooth.

"Sob! Snort! Whiny! Sniff! Whin-n-n-n-n-n-ny!"

"Now that's a good horsy", Tristin praised. "Alright darling, back to work!"

scrape!

scrape!

scrape!

sha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ve!

"Wow! This is getting me hot!", Donald blurted, swiping a razor, reveling at the emerging pinkness.

The hover-boards had been lowered to floor-level, perfectly positioning Suzanne's scalp for a flurry of manipulations --- dozens of passes with a straight-razor --- permanent chemical depilation --- polishing to a gleaming shine!

"For Clinton's sake, Tris, the way her b-big tits jiggle w-with each pass of the b-blade is just,... is j-jus..."

"Fabulous? Is that the word you're searching for, darling?"

"I was t-thinking m-more like,... Yabba!"

"Wow!", Tris exclaimed. "Coming from a Clintonantics Professor, that's quite the testimonial!"

scrape!

swipe!

scrape!

sha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ve!

"Geeeezzze! A bald head makes her tits look so focking immense", Donald rasped!

"No question about it", Tristin agreed. "And when she's in competition, going through mandatory exercises, a shiny scalp will spotlight everything --- tit-jut, wiggliness, pony-posture, cantering, dressage --- you name it! Basically, everything equestrian!"

"Dressage?"

scrape!

shave!

shave!

sha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ve!

"Shit yes! And believe me, darling, if you're jacked by how she looks now, wait'll you see her harnessed in glossy leather; bit-gagged to the hilt! Remember how beguiling Irene's big bottom looked?"

Donald nodded in the affirmative --- with his dick!

shave!

scrape!

scrape!

sha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ve!

sha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ve!

sha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ve!

sha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ve!

sha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-ve!

"There!", Tristin exclaimed, running a finger over Suzanne's slippery scalp. "Smooth as a cue-ball! I'll bet that feels a lot better, doesn't it, horsy?"

"Sob! Glub! Snort! Glu-u-u-u-ufptfptfpth! Sniff! Whimper! Whinny! Whinny!"

Tristin frowned.

"Poon. Sniggy. Take your stations."

In a wink, the two stablehands had #3 fluidians pressed against each of Suzanne's bare soles.

"Now, how does a good pony answer?", Tristin reprised.

"Sob! Whinny! Whinny! Grunt!"

slap! slap!

slap! slap!

jingle! tingle! jingle! tingle! jingle! tingle! jingle! tingle! jingle! tingle!

The baldie hiccuped her big tits twice --- ponytalk for "yes"!

"Good horsy!"

"Errrr... Tris?", Donald inquired. "Was that s-stuff about me b-being her m-master on the level?"

"Why of course it was, darling."

"Well then let's get on with dressage! Where in blazes do you keep the harnesses around here?"

"Tee! Hee! Hee!"

"Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!"

"Heh! Heh! Heh!"

All stood laughing except Poon. He'd retreated back to his drawing tablet --- sketching Suzanne's bare feet.

"W-what's so funny?", Donald asked. 

"Why, you are, darling!'

"But you said I was her master; that that semen-load is mine!"

"Yes to both, darling", Tristin gushed. "And she will be harnessed to your exact specifications; then pressed into whatever training program you decree --- after we've finished her grooming!"

Tristin squeezed Suzanne's left tit for emphasis.

"And believe me, darling, we're not half done yet!"

"W-What-da-ya m-mean? We've just shaved her completely bald-headed! What are we gonna d-do n-next?"

"Why,... shave her again, silly! Tee! Hee! Hee!"

"Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!"

"Heh! Heh! Heh!"

Sketch! Sketch! Sketch! Sketch! Sketch!

-13-

During the next twenty-four hours, Suzanne's scalp was re-shaved two-dozen times.

And between every razoring, a glob of depilatory-gel got vigorously massaged into every pore, with the perpetrator, of course, wearing protective gloves and goggles.

Tristin made sure the implications were fully understood.

"You're going to be a baldie forever, horsy! I know that's a nasty thought to you now, so go ahead and be glum, but in the long run, when you're winning pony-shows galore, you'll come to appreciate our wisdom. Besides, up on a showing-platform, most eyes are gonna be focused on your big bottom and droopy tits anyway --- especially during flogging competitions!"

Tris had hold of Suzanne's pliable boobs --- punctuating the soliloquy with one bawdy wring after another.

"Why, I'll bet we'll even have to build a special trophy-case to display all the awards you'll win!"

When the razoring was completed, Suzanne was ordered to swallow her gooey mouthful. And with fluidian crops dimpling her soles, quim, and titties, she complied without reservation. And oh-so fetchingly!

"Belch! Snort! B-u-r-p! Sob Whinny! Whinny! Belch!"

F-i-z-z-z-z-z-l-e! Pop! Snap! Fizzle!

Burped cum-bubbles and hair-remover vapor --- both lazily drifting ceiling-ward. Man, what a sight

Next it was feeding time.

Sniggy and Poon re-gagged Suzanne with a channeled-sphere, cinching it's restraining-strap to the last hole.

A tube was plugged into the gag's conduit.

Three liters of water followed, along with a gruel of vitamins, pony nutrients, and male-cum --- all administered via feed bag.

Suzanne's bald head quivered as she repeatedly swallowed --- eyes staring blankly --- the occasional hiccup making her tits do lewd things.

Fluidian crops insured that all proceeded smoothly. So did a nearby fire-pit, and the sight of branding-irons roasting within!